by Feral

Disclaimers: See Part 1.

Dedication: Always for Slim.

Feedback is always welcome: This is an original piece based on things I’ve done and experienced. I own these characters and these words. The world I live in isn’t shiny, but it is interesting. I don’t flinch from gross. Don’t steal. Do comment. Please...feral@e-scribblers.com.

Copyright © 2008 by C. R. Johnson. All Rights Reserved.

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“It stinks.” Tim scrunched up his face, eyeing her suspiciously, mimicking her as she worked on the second gasket.

“Yup.”

“I like it though,” he announced.

She tossed him a look and a smile, and watched his face light up. Not bad for a rug rat, she thought, then had to reassess. He was growing fast, getting long and sort of stretched in that grade school kind of way.

“Yeah,” she admitted, “you’re right, it stinks. But it works.”

“Will this fix it?”

“This is part of fixing it,” she pointed out. “Without these the metal won’t seal tight and it won’t run right at all. How does that o-ring feel anyway? Is it fat and smooth all the way around, or are there any places that are flat or squashed or cracked or anything?”

He took his time answering, the little gears almost visible behind his eyes. “It feels okay. It’s hard though.”

“Okay, put it on the paper so it will dry and we’ll try to clear the carburetor again.” She smiled at the obvious excitement in his eyes, wondering how much trouble she’d be in when he got a load of the black smudges on his upper lip like the last time she’d let him do this. Watching as he lifted the carburetor to his lips with all the care of Louis Armstrong and his horn, she raised a brow, silently reminding him to swallow and carefully clear all the spit from his mouth. When she nodded, he took a deep breath and blew, creating a weak bleat of noise that batted ineffectually at the inner walls of the garage. His eyes nearly popped out with the effort.

She lifted her brows, coaxing him to draw out the note until he turned red, before she said, “Enough.”

On principle, she should probably feel guilty for the small amusement- but damn, it was funny! Instead, she held her hand out with solemn dignity, and nodded approvingly as he handed over the weight of machined metal.

“You did good,” she said softly.

And, despite promising herself she wouldn’t, she laughed when he grinned from ear to ear, and the grease mustache on his upper lip stretched out until he looked like Inspector Clouseau.

“Yeah?” he asked, eyes shining brightly with pride.

“Yeah.”

“So, what, it’s your turn this time, huh?” Tim was watching the fire, wondering at the amount of ice that could build up in such a small area. Soon there wouldn’t be room for the firemen, and the feather plant would be nothing but a molten mass encased temporarily in ice. In this kind of cold, he supposed suffocating the fire in ice made sense – especially considering the stink that usually rose from the rendering plant - but he wasn’t so sure that was actually what the fire chief had had in mind…

“Forty-seven,” Rae said softly. She rested her head against the seat back and tried for the umpteenth time to try and cross her legs in the tiny space Ford had allotted in the cab. Christ! No wonder all the tall guys raced to drive. She sighed, but it turned into a snarl of frustration.

Tim chuckled at that. “I got forty-eight.”

“Musta missed one while I was taking care of Barnes.” Her eyes narrowed in displeasure. This was an old game for her, and one she’d long ago taught to Tim: Count the number of times firemen played in the puddles. It was Rae’s contention that firemen were a cross between little boys and ducks. They gravitated toward water even more than fire, which, of course, explained why they always came equipped with rubber boots. There were various iterations of the game: pick a fireman and bet on the number of times he purposely paddled across the puddles rather than stay a straight line on dry ground; guess the number of puddle jumps in any given fifteen minute period; pick a puddle guess the count… Right now they were doing a simple tally, and had bet on the outcome of a six hour period. Easy money. Tim had bet the ridiculously low ball of twenty-five. Rae had gone with fifty-three. She’d won long ago, but now it was a matter of gathering additional data. Despite the depth of cold, which Tim had bet on keeping the number low, the rate of puddle plodding had actually increased; man’s fascination with liquids at the edge of solid state had won out over brains. Every one of the guys in turn out gear was indulging his inner child. They had 2 hours to go before shift change.

“Wilson came back again.” He reached out and adjusted the heater controls, expression deceptively mild. “You gonna answer my question?”

She sighed, and thought about killing him just to break the monotony.

“She’s gonna cry when you give her that… especially if you just spring it on her.”

She shot him an exasperated look. “I’m not just springing it on her! We talk you know!”

“Not about this, you don’t.”

She grit her teeth and tried to ignore the fact he was right.

“How are you gonna...?”

Narrowed eyes warned him not to go there, then she felt bad at the obvious discomfort she found staring back at her. Swallowing, she got a grip on her temper. “Donor.”

He looked away then, so he wasn’t looking at her when he asked what came next. She hoped he wouldn’t. “So it is your turn then?”

The unstated message behind his words fell between them and spread like blood, with the same metallic scent of trauma, and Rae closed her eyes for a moment to form a response.

“Whatever El wants.”

She barely made a sound as she spoke: she meant the words, but was afraid of what they implied. God, she thought, I can’t believe I’m actually going to do this! It had been so simple before, pretending this subject was closed.

His jaw worked, and there was a note of steel in his voice when he asked, “and if she wants to carry this one too?” He didn’t let anything else show: none of the pain or hurt or loss. Just steel.

For a long moment, Rae concentrated on how much he’d grown over the years, how much she loved him, and how proud she was of the man he’d become. It was better to think of that than to think of Elsa pregnant again, or of what that thought did to her insides, and the bleak terror that settled on her with the weight of a six by three foot grave.

“I think,” he began carefully into the silence, “that if she wants to, you need to not fight her. And I think, whether you can say the words or not, that’s what you’re trying to say by giving her that ring.”

Rae said nothing. She stared through the windshield but saw only her own memories. Tim had been a beautiful kid, all big blue eyes, and ears too big for his head, with blond hair and a goofy grin and gapped teeth. Yet somehow, now, balding and surly and grizzled with stubble, she loved him all the more. In all the world, she had El, and she had Tim: and knowing that made this both easier and harder. “You see too much.”

“Yeah,” he said, “I know.”

She watched as another fireman moved toward the new pools of water, the reflection of golds and reds shattered by the splashing of heavy bunker boots.

“Forty two,” she whispered, ignoring the count.

“Forty two,” he agreed solemnly.

El was playing with Rae’s hands, tracing them.

She always did that when something was bothering her. It drove Rae crazy: her hands sensitive, and El’s play was so overtly sensual that it had taken time and familiarity for Rae to realize what she should be doing rather than reacting on an animal level. Today she waited.

“We need to talk,” Elsa whispered, letting go of Rae’s hand and rolling over onto her back, her body now several inches distant across the mattress.

Oh, this can’t be good.

“Where are we going, Rae?” El curled back onto her side, only a fraction of an inch closer, her head propped on her hand, elbow bent, looking down on Rae. “As a couple, I mean?”

Rae had preferred waking to the hand play, but blinked anyway and gave El her full attention. “Can I have forever?” she asked simply.

El’s expression changed from pensive to stunned, and somehow that bothered Rae more than had the naked concern in El’s question.

“What?” Rae asked. “Did you think I’ve just been fooling around here?” She reached out and took El’s free hand, bringing it to her lips to kiss her knuckles. “I told you, I love you. I haven’t held anything back since your sister tried to split us up before Christmas. I want forever with you, El… But if that’s not getting through, then maybe…” she swallowed. Shut up Rae.

El’s expression had slid back to a kind of pensiveness, her stillness presaging what Rae could only see as heartache. This is gonna hurt…

“Do you mean that?”

Huh? “It’s what I want.” Rae mustered up enough spit to form the words. “I want us.”

Again El went silent.

Rae waited, recognizing the slight tightening of El’s eyes that spoke of deep thought. Somewhere behind those eyes, one very large brain was busy weighing probabilities. It didn’t matter that the bulk of Rae’s hopes were being distilled and calculated… or so she told herself.

At last, Elsa nodded. “I suppose moving in together is a first step we should take then.”

Breathe idiot, breathe.

“There are things we need to discuss…” El posited softly.

“True.”

“And you know how I feel about lesbian ‘marriage’.”

“Yes.” El’s was a strange, but principled position, espoused loudly after much wine and teasing from Tim and Tammy. It had hurt to hear, but Rae had chosen to respect it, never thinking to discount or adjust it as the months had rolled by. Deciding to move in together, well that alone scared the living hell out of her, and she didn’t doubt El was just as frightened. They were going to need time to relax into this, letting brains and hind brains catch up with emotions. Rae felt like she was backing into a new universe, blind, her ass naked and waving like a flag in the wind. How could she not allow El the room to deal with her own uncertainties in her own way?

“I’ve been thinking…”

Once again losing herself in the contemplation of Rae’s hand, El actively avoided Rae’s questioning gaze.

“I may have been… mistaken…”

Huh?

“There are things I want, as well, Rae: things that I want with you - because of you.”

“Hi.” El’s kiss felt strangely stiff, nervous energy rolling off her as she tugged Rae into the entry. A small, almost frightened smile arched El’s lips, not reaching her eyes, and then El was sweeping around in a grand gesture, urging Rae’s gaze toward the open kitchen and the woman standing within.

“Rae, my sister Jane.” El’s touch eased as the words flowed from her, seeming to take courage from the simple act of speaking. “Jane, this is Rae.”

Jane… second to El in birth order, society darling, climber, and, from what Rae could sense in that first instant, smeller of bad smells.

Oh fuck me!

“Hey!” Elsa grabbed Rae’s wrist, catching her before she could get out the door. “What are you talking about? What games?” When El caught sight of Rae’s face, the raw shame there stunned her. “Rae?”

“Maybe next time I say I’m staying home. I’ll be smart enough to listen.” Rae whispered.

“What happened?”

“I’m not good around families, okay? I don’t know how to behave, what the rules are, and I don’t think you really want to drag me home to yours.”

“This is because I asked you to go home with me?” El blinked, owl-like. How had they gone from ‘fuck me baby’ to a conversation almost an hour old in the matter of an instant? It didn’t make sense… but Rae actually looked wounded, even her shoulders were slumped, and the way she was moving…

Actually, El realized, Rae had been subdued most of the night. Ever since…

“What happened when I was in the bathroom?”

Rae was good at hiding her emotions, but El noted the tightening of her lips at the question and knew, just knew…

“My sister is a self indulgent spoiled bitch who married into more money than god. She’s living in her own mink-lined hell and copes by being the most shallow, conceited, ill-tempered and crass human I’ve ever been forced to spend time with! She plays with people for comfort Rae! If she said something to you to upset you…”

“Don’t worry yourself, okay? I’m a big girl. I can deal!” Rae hadn’t intended for the words to come out as a growl, but, then again, she didn’t intend for the hardness she felt in her heart to show in her eyes either. When she caught sight of the expression on El’s face, she was pretty sure she’d failed on both counts. Well, why not? This was bound to happen sooner or later…

“Don’t w…” El practically deflated where she stood, sitting down hard on the stairs, watching in disbelief as Rae pulled her jacket on and reached for the door handle. “You know her for a few minutes, and you hear her over me?” Something in El’s chest was crumbling, something essential. And then she got angry.

“What the hell, Rae? I’m the one who’s in love with you! I’m the one you say you love, but you listen to her? What about ME?!”

Rae didn’t look around, didn’t dare. Instead she pulled open the door and stepped out into the bitter night air. She was half way down the walk, hot tears blinding her, before an answer formed in her mind. What El didn’t seem to understand, was that this wasn’t about her at all. But what THIS was, was going to break them just the same.

“Rae!”

The call was like a slap, bringing Rae around just as Elsa collided with her, burying her face in Rae’s shoulder and clinging to her like a child.

“What are you doing?! You’ll freeze!” Rae choked, lifting El into her arms, bare legs and feet dangling as she hurried over the crunch of snow to the house. “Have you lost your mind?” she demanded.

“I’m not going to lose you!” Elsa hissed into her ear, practically strangling Rae as she stumbled across the porch and over the threshold. The door slammed and the warmth of the house enveloped them as Rae set her onto the stairs once more, shedding her jacket to cover El’s legs, lifting El’s feet one by one to examine them.

Rae was panting, practically sobbing. “That was stupid!” she managed, dropping back onto her heels once she’d assured herself that El’s feet weren’t damaged. Both hands were shaking as she buried her face in them, willing herself to get up, to turn and to leave – and completely unable to move. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and snow was melting off her boots through the seat of her jeans, and she didn’t have a clue why she wasn’t running as she’d intended. She was afraid, she realized - terrified. The stupidity of El running out into killing cold in nothing but a shirt… Rae shuddered at the thought.

“You love me!” The words were thrown up as a challenge, El’s voice imperious and sure. “You love me!”

Rae hung her head, unable to deny the words.

“Say it, Rae!” El demanded, not daring to move. Her voice gentled as she continued, appalled by the defeated bow to Rae’s neck, and by her own willingness to capitalize on that weakness. “Tell me you love me, Rae.”

Rae sobbed, and El leaned forward, pulling Rae’s hands from her face, forcing her chin upward.

“Don’t let her touch us. There’s nothing she can tell me that I don’t already know,” El said softly, not letting Rae turn her face away. “Do you understand?”

Holding Rae’s wrists in one hand, knowing that she’d never force herself free because it would hurt her, she watched Rae try to collect herself, to catch the clear meaning of El’s words through the jumble of out-of-control emotions fogging her brain.

“I already know…” Elsa said softly.

Rae blinked, snuffling to control her breathing, staring into green eyes and seeing something she’d been afraid to see before. “But…”

Elsa shook her head. “Tell me you love me, Rae.” Quiet, insistent. “Say it.”

Swallowing, Rae sniffed one more time, blinking back tears, the questions swarming in her head being beaten back by that one, pure request.

“I love you.”

“And I love you,” Elsa murmured softly, letting go of Rae’s chin to sweep a hand back through her hair before releasing her wrists to smooth away her tears. “That’s all that matters, you know. The rest we can survive, so long as we remember that one thing.”

Rae stared up at her, new tears chasing after the old, as El tried to keep up.

“Now come on, up! You’re getting soaked and I’m cold. I want you to hold me and make all this fear I’m feeling go away.”

Was it really that simple?

‘That’s all that matters…’

Stop living in your head Rae. Look at her! Look at Elsa!

“I don’t…” Rae stammered, wanting, and yet fearful of getting lost in those blue eyes, feeling their pull as surely as the beat of her own heart. “You can’t…”

“Then you can tell me, and it won’t make a bit of difference in how I feel.” El’s hands stilled at Rae’s cheek, waiting for her to surrender, to close her eyes and turn into the touch with a shudder that would signal El had won.

When that surrender came, Elsa felt her self control unknot, and she leaned into Rae for just a moment, letting time wash over them, nearly losing her grasp on what she’d requested of Rae.

“’K.” Rae whispered, grabbing hold of the rail and dragging them both upright. “El, I’m…”

“…a putz.” El finished for her. “Yes, you are. But what you have to remember from now on, is that you’re my putz.” She took Rae’s hand in her own, listened as the boots clunked against the tile floor, and led Rae past the abandoned jacket, up the stairs toward the bed. “And there’s nothing my family, or your fears can do to change that.”

“I don’t like your sister,” Rae managed with a half-hearted smile.

“Why should you? No one else does!”

“Talk to me,” Elsa whispered into the solace of their embrace.

Terry had excused himself long ago and the storm of tears had passed, leaving Rae drained, vulnerable. Though impossible, she tried to push herself even further into El’s arms, willing the rest of the world, and the shame she’d ordinarily feel at having wept in front of her boss, away. If not for the arms around her, and the solid bond of love they shared even when apart, the sudden gulf of loneliness that had opened to swallow Rae would have won.

She shook her head, and tried to breathe while El held her and brushed away the remains of her tears.

“He’s really gone?” Rae whispered.

“Yes baby, Tim’s really gone.” Elsa murmured. “I’m so sorry.”

Rae was moving into a kind of numb acceptance. She let out a deep breath, seeking out Elsa’s face with her good hand, finding tears to sweep away, a smile to coax from soft lips. She wished she could see her, but realized she already knew what was resident in El’s expression even without the use of her eyes. “I love you,” she said simply and managed a tiny smile as she felt El’s lips quirk beneath the light touch of her thumb.

“What are you thinking?” Rae asked a bit later, the silence having settled about them, her fingers still gently exploring El’s face.

A heartbeat later Elsa asked. “Can’t you tell?”

And Rae realized that she could. That El was to her just as much now, as always, an open book.

“Yeah.” Rae whispered. “I can.”

Nearly a ritual, this.

Certainly a knowing.

How many times had she asked this same question? Always at a quiet, gentle look from El. Always with that smile, that slight cant of the head that bespoke promises and possibilities.

“Good.” And then El kissed her. “Don’t let go.” She cautioned: a part of the ritual.

This, this Rae never questioned. “I promise.”

Chapter 21

“Strip,” Rae ordered.

Tim didn’t even argue, ducking into the back of the van as the primary rig pulled away. The sound of the band on stage warming up was lost for a second in the sound of the clattering diesel, and the few rubber-neckers were busy watching the light bar and strobes on the big slant side to care about them or their less conspicuous, and darkened, transfer rig.

“Here.” Bless his pointy little head, Tim was offering her his uniform shirt.

She shook her head, still carefully undoing the buttons on her own shirt. “Give me the T.”

“Oh.” A second later he handed out his undershirt and Rae, holding her own uniform shirt at arm’s length, gingerly accepted.

“Be right back.”

With the unhurried stride of the truly afflicted, Rae sauntered toward the crowd near the stands, and headed over to the washrooms. Whereas, not long before, she’d had to push through the crowd so she and Tim could get to their patient, now the crowd parted before her as if she were a prophet …or a leper.

The line was long. She walked past it, and stepped through the doorway without hearing a single protest. Commandeering a sink, she shoved her vomit-covered shirt into the basin, and turned the faucet on.

A look in the mirror made her groan. She took inventory: beer and onion rings… all thanks to the fireman from the metro and his crappy heart. the fireman who apparently didn't know how to chew! chunks! there were actual chunks of onion, complete with breading in her hair! She’d gotten it full in the face, standing one row down as Tim turned the old guy away from him and directly onto her. There had been a scramble around them, bodies moving away, but she’d had no time to do more than blink as their patient had gone from flushed and vomiting, to grey and collapsed onto the seats.

She was already clearing his airway with a sweep of her fingers, and locating an irregular, sluggish pulse as Tim reached for the defib. A few seconds later, she had a clear oral cavity to work with and the patient was moving air, but he wasn’t fighting, and the next round of emesis pretty much sealed the deal. The crowd got an eyeful, and of course there was the obligatory “Don’t just stand there, do something!” from the peanut gallery, who clearly had no idea exactly what she and Tim were doing. A steady diet of “reality” shows on TV had everyone expecting a thunderous soundtrack and voice-overs from William Shatner any time they saw a uniform or a cot!

Personally, the fact they had him intubated, stuck, drugged and externally paced in a six minute window was pretty good in her eyes. She was surprised he didn’t rouse and start swinging on the way to the rig. In fact, she would have preferred it if he had. A nice, happy, healthy ‘pissed-off’ would have been just fine with her…

Damn it! Her favorite pen was ruined! It made a lovely bell tone when she tossed it into the bin on the other side of the room and she not so quietly began to hum an off key version of taps. a few women eyed her suspiciously and she smiled pleasantly.

She rinsed off the collar devices, name tag, badge and pins, and then got to work on the shirt, adding her own t-shirt to the mix. Jesus, what a mess! She left both to soak while she used a second sink for her face, arms and hair.

Chunks! Fuck! Was that one still whole? Gah!

“Open,” Rae said, holding out her right hand as best she could, the emotional weight of the velvet box disproportionate to its actual mass.

The silence that followed was heavy with expectation.

“Tim helped think, Donna helped choose.”

Very gently, Elsa extricated herself from the embrace they shared, and Rae could hear her pulling herself back together, wiping the tears from her face, settling herself with a deep breath.

“I brought one of yours with me. It’s in my purse.”

“Can wait.” Rae’s tone was gentle, but sure. She swallowed, her throat still tight, and found it still wasn’t any easier to breathe when Elsa lifted the box and left a kiss in its stead. She listened, desperately wishing she could see El’s face as the paper rustled. The hinge gave a soft creak, and El’s breath caught…

She could see in her mind’s eye the curl of the white gold setting and the brilliantly cut aquamarine stone, not in the box, but as she’d imagined it - on El’s hand. But what she wanted to see was El’s expression. She needed to know, to gauge her reaction, to ease any hurt or misgivings this gift - so charged with grief and hope - might bring. She had been so sure when she’d decided, and wracked with worry ever since. And now…

“Our Birthstone: Aiden’s and mine.” Elsa’s voice carried the brittleness of new tears, and Rae reached out instinctively, finding her face to cup her cheek, sweeping her thumb lightly beneath El’s eye to gather the tears.

“More stones go,” Rae managed. “Aiden’s larger, because…”

There was an inscription on the band, and Elsa read it aloud.

“Someday is now.”

“I didn’t know how else to tell you I was ready…” Rae began, and then stopped. There didn’t seem to be a reason to fight for more words. She’d never been good with them anyway, and now she barely managed to string together a combination of them to sound less than retarded. El would understand, or she wouldn’t. They would talk – well, El would, and Rae would grunt and nod – and what would happen from here they’d decide together. And so Rae waited…

Her answer was a very enthusiastic, very messy, and altogether uninhibited kiss, that told her it was time to shut up now…

“It stinks in here!” Tim made a face.

She ignored him and watched the crowd. It was getting darker, and the floods had come on, the warm up band almost finished.

“I can’t decide if it’s better with the air on high and freezing my ass off, or with the windows down and being stewed in the stench!” he continued to bitch.

“Windows down isn’t an option,” Rae pointed out. Between the mosquitoes and the gathering of flies, she was getting grumpy. As far as she was concerned, Tim was her butt boy for the rest of his natural life!

“You know, it is kinda funny!”

As soon as she leveled her eyes on him, he stopped grinning.

“Okay, so not so funny…”

Oh but apparently it was! So far, just about every damned security guard and rent-a-cop had sauntered by to laugh, and - better yet, - the head of security himself had made a special trip from the casino floor to tell her that at least four security cameras had documented the entire ‘incident’. She was a legend! It was going as the winner on next year’s bloopers tape for the casino Christmas party.

Fucking terrific!

They’d already handled one other medical ‘emergency’: some guy who’d swallowed his girlfriends earring. An earring! Who goes to an ambulance because they swallowed an earring? He was talking, ambulatory, and drunk as a skunk. It had taken her longer to do the paperwork than to explain to him that they “don’t do earrings”. When his 'girlfriend suddenly found said earring in her bra, Rae duly noted it on her run sheet and told herself not to throttle the fool.

“If you’re gonna be a bitch about this, give me my shirt back,” Tim whined.

She grinned.

“You know, that is not a nice smile.”

“I’m not nice,” she said softly.

Tim stared. “It’s not like I aimed him at you on purpose!”

“Tim!” She leaned toward him, not altering the look on her face in the least. “Shut. Up.”

“I did say I was sorry, you know.”

She sighed and leaned back into the seat.

“This is more than getting heaved on, isn’t it?” he asked, as the first guitar riff brought ten thousand people to their feet. “You want to tell me why we’re out here tonight?”

Closing her eyes, she willed him to just stop talking.

“You’ve been on edge ever since…”

“Every time the floors creak or the windows rattle, I’m up chasing shadows,” she admitted quietly. She was changing the subject, but she needed the neutrality.

“Since when are you so paranoid?”

She shrugged.

Tim was staring at her, she could feel it. “It’s an old house. They creak.”

“I noticed.” Sarcasm dripped from the words.

For a long time, she got her wish and he was quiet, the cacophony of hillbilly rock gone to seed roaring over the rig, competing with the noise of a too old, too drunk, overheated crowd.

When security waved them over next, it was for a drunk who’d fallen off the bleachers. He’d apparently taken it into his head to body-slide from the top to the bottom, and had broken his wrist at the bottom trying to stop.

An hour later Rae was trying to explain to the three guys peeing on the rear axle of the rig that there were actual facilities off to the east. She waited, the picture of personal affront, while they relocated to the fence line.

It wasn’t until the fourth encore that they were paged to the parking lot for a woman who’d passed out. Luckily, Rae checked the back step of the van before they rolled. A couple of indeterminate gender had been unnaturally attracted to the waffle grating of the step. Rolling with them attached, she’d decided, would be – well, it would be hilarious, but bad, very bad…

Rae just wanted to go home, and a few hours later, as she and Tim finished putting the rig to bed, she climbed into Tim’s car and thanked him for the lift home.

“If you’re eaten by flies, El will never let me hear the end of it,” he remarked with a smile.

She snapped. “El isn’t your concern.”

It got very quiet in the car after that, and when he pulled up to the curb in front of the house, Rae launched herself out of the seat, slammed the door, and headed for the house in a very black mood.

“How do you do that?” El asked, separating herself from the fog of sensation just long enough to reform her thoughts. Jesus, the woman was insatiable!

“Do what?”

Elsa shook herself, like a dog leaving the water, and refocused on what she’d been aiming to say. “Rae, this is serious! We need to talk.”

“Mmm.” Rae hummed against El’s thigh, settling in with her face in a place that was not conducive to discussion!

“I mean it!” El tugged at Rae’s hair, finally getting her attention. “Come up here where I can see you,” she demanded. Honestly, it was like dealing with an over grown kid, which was strangely appropriate, she supposed.

Watching as Rae had slowly meandered up her body and settled in along her side, Elsa took a moment to admire her. “You are such a strange person.”

Rae just grinned, and licked El’s face.

“Oh jeez, quit that! I’m trying to be serious here!”

With a quirk of her brows, and the same damned grin, Rae propped her head on her hand and gave Elsa her full attention. “Speak,” she intoned, her voice sounding like a high priest. Strangely, it reminded Elsa of Tim.

Rolling her eyes, Elsa swallowed, and reached out to wipe Rae’s chin. “You’re a mess.”

When the grin widened, El clucked her tongue in exasperation. She took a deep breath, collected herself once again, and launched in.

“I want children.”

The light wasn’t good, but Elsa could make out the slight widening of Rae’s eyes and the waver of the grin she’d been wearing. It was Rae’s body, though, that told El that whatever Rae was thinking – if she was thinking, because there was always the possibility at this close range that Rae wasn’t – the subject of children was open for discussion.

From out of the shadows, Rae’s hand swept through El’s hair, and arms gathered her in, closer along Rae’s body.

“This is one of the things you want with me, right?” she asked, recalling their earlier conversation.

“Because of you,” Elsa added. Hands were running over her back, fingers tracing, and from where she’d been cuddled close, she could hear the increased pace of Rae’s heart. She closed her eyes, listening to the steady rush of air in and out of Rae’s lungs, waiting.

“So this is something new - you’ve never thought about it before?” Rae asked quietly.

Tightening her own arms around Rae’s waist, Elsa gave her answer some thought.

“I did when I was a child.” She paused, wondering when she’d last thought of being a mother, and realized she couldn’t remember so much no longer wanting, as more ‘settling on not’. That had changed though, in the year they had been together. “I don’t mean right this minute, or even this year…” she thought aloud.

“But someday?” Rae kissed the top of El’s head, listening.

“Yeah. Someday,” Elsa sighed. “Not a figurative someday, but a real one.”

Rae chuckled at that, and the sound seemed so incongruous to Elsa that she lifted her head from where it nested against Rae’s chest, just to make sure she was hearing right.

The smile that Rae was wearing was gentle, and her eyes were almost luminous with the sheen of unshed tears.

“Love, every one of our ‘somedays’ will be real. I promise you that.”

She stumbled over Fog while she was trying to slip out of her boots. Swearing under her breath, Rae headed for the kitchen and the fridge, scarfing down a glass of juice so fast she didn’t even taste it.

For a moment, she let herself stare at the room, taking in the hard lines of wood and steel and linoleum. Hard lines, and none of them straight. The floor sagged to the northwest corner. The countertops were shit. The floor was the most heinous pattern of dimpled linoleum she’d ever seen. The walls were an equally awful shade of flat blue, and the two dinky windows let in so little light she was sure either she or El would wind up lopping off a finger. That thought brought her eyes up to the bare circular florescent fixture above her. It had to be the most willfully ugly ceiling lamp in Christendom, and it was smack dab in the middle of the room.

A creak of the floorboards swung Rae around to find a very sleepy, tousled Elsa watching her from the archway that led back toward the rest of the house.

“I waited up, but I fell asleep,” El muttered, shuffling forward, eyes closing in anticipation of a hug. A few shuffles later, blue eyes snapped open and El was staring, not prepared to come any closer. “Jesus! What the hell happened?”

Fog trilled in response to the sound of El’s tone, and Rae glared at the fuzzball. Why did it always seem like she was bitching about her?

“Rae?” Elsa asked, bringing Rae’s attention back to her, puzzling over the closed look she was getting in return. “What’s wrong?” She was really looking at Rae now, peering through the darkness to see her. “What happened?”

“I need a shower.”

Careful not to overreact, Rae placed her empty glass in the sink and stepped past El.

Elsa was frowning. “You smell like Tim.”

Barely through the arch, Rae rounded on her in disbelief. “Tim? I smell of vomit and stale drunks and sweat, but you smell Tim?”

Taken back by the angry expression Rae wore, Elsa spat back, “Yes, I smell Tim! What? You think I don’t know what you smell like, even covered in sweat and booze and vomit? Have you been paying attention the last two years?” El’s eyes narrowed as her response moderated. “Why are you wearing his shirt?”

Rae didn’t hear the underlying concern in El’s last, just turned and headed for the upstairs.

“Rae!”

She stopped half way through the dining room, angry with her body’s betrayal in response to that singular commanding tone. “What?”

Padding on bare feet, Elsa was blocking her, one hand flicking on the overhead lights so she could see more clearly.

Both blinked in the new glare.

Rae watched as El’s gaze swept over her, tasting a second’s bitter regret at the obvious concern in the blonde’s perusal.

“You’re not hurt?” El reached toward her but stopped herself.

“I’m fine.”

El’s expression grew more pointed. “Want to tell me what happened, or should I just assume the position?”

Rae stared, appalled.

“You’re acting as if I’ve done something…”

Which was exactly how Rae was feeling, and without a shred of justification. Jesus! What the hell was wrong with her? Taking a deep breath, Rae hung her head, and sighed.

“I’m an idiot.”

The change in tone wasn’t unexpected, but Elsa knew they weren’t done yet. “Yeees.” She drew the word out, watching Rae as she waited for her to elucidate. Defusing Rae had always been surprisingly easy for Elsa, but that talent did nothing to ameliorate whatever had set her off, and whatever this was, she sensed the need to handle it gently. “You’re my idiot, but an idiot none-the-less.”

Rae practically trembled at the claim, and Elsa moved closer, despite the smell.

“Talk to me,” she coaxed.

Shrugging, unable to articulate everything she was feeling, Rae made a face. “It’s been a really shitty night.”

Chapter 22

“You idiot!” Elsa sounded exasperated, though more at herself than at Rae. “Did I hurt you?”

Rae very nearly grinned, stopping short as the stitches in her face tightened. This was the first time since the crash that El had truly flung herself headlong into Rae’s arms, every trace of tentative caution abandoned in favor of pure joy.

A gentle touch swept the hair from Rae’s face, and the quiet that spread through the room felt light as mist after the wash of so much emotion.

“I love you,” Elsa said softly.

Nodding, Rae imagined El’s face, let her eyes trace El’s features in her mind.

“Too,” she managed.

El laid a kiss on Rae’s extended hand, and held it close to her cheek. “How did you know?”

Rae thought for a moment, carefully forming the words in her head, and then losing most of them somewhere between her brain and her lips.

“Room watching.”

Elsa’s confusion was brief, and, where before she would have seen it swept away as realization sparked in El’s eyes, Rae now felt it dissipate.

“I’ve been imagining what it would feel like to wake her up for school in the mornings.” The admission was soft, a mere brush of breath passing El’s lips.

But Rae heard, just as she had seen the pause in Elsa’s steps along the upstairs hall, eyes sweeping through the door to the spare room with a wistful glance, before moving on.

What would that room have looked like now, had Aiden lived? How many toys would they unconsciously stoop to gather? How many loose socks and wayward treasures would be fished from beneath the bed? How much more laundry would be carried up the stairs to be put away? What garish print would hang from the clothesline as sheets, alongside tiny clothing? How might the room, the house, and their days, have been changed, ringing with laughter, incessant questions and squeals of demand?

“Rae?” Elsa tugged Rae back from her thoughts, leaving her wondering just how much time had passed since El’s admission.

“Hmmm?”

Voice husky, the register dropping to preclude anyone overhearing, El said very simply, “I need this…”

“I know.”

“We need this… you and I.”

Rae swallowed.

“I know it scares you…”

And it did.

“It scares me too, if I’m honest. But I want this…”

Rae let her talk, knowing that right now her words were less necessary than ever, understanding that the need to articulate was simply El’s way of working through her feelings.

“Now more than ever.”

Now…

“I don’t want to ever lose you, Rae.”

No. No more losses…

“I see Donna, and she’s devastated, but she’s got little Rae and the boys. And I…” She stopped, unwilling to say what she was thinking, unable to rend open that wound by adding another. Her losses and fears were a burden she didn’t want to place upon Rae. Not now.

But Rae knew anyway, and so Elsa skipped forward in the series of conversations they were yet to have, to a truth which cut through them all.

“I need you to come home soon.”

“Yes, dear.” Such a normal thing to say. So easy…

And then El’s giggle, tear-laced as Rae knew it was, felt like wings on Rae’s heart.

“Rae?” El’s call was hushed, drawing Rae’s attention just long enough for her to lose track of what she was doing, and move her hand too close to the hide as she withdrew. Of course, that was just asking for trouble, and the snake inside, who’d been acting like a garden hose on crank, stuck.

“Fuuuuuck me!”

“Oh Jesus! Don’t do that!” Elsa squealed. “You’re scaring it!”

Pulling her arm from the tank, and dropping the lid back into place, Rae examined her wrist. God damn it! This was the last time she was going to let Tim and the boys talk them into watching this cold-blooded menagerie!

“Rae?”

Damn it, she was starting to bleed!

“Rae?” More insistent this time.

“What?” she asked curtly.

“Something is wrong with its eyes.”

Rae, still examining the bloody chevrons on her wrist, gaped at Elsa.

El’s lips narrowed in that ‘I’m not buying this shit right now’ look which Rae knew too well. “I mean it, I think something is wrong! Look at its eyes…” She bent toward the glass again, peering in.

“Don’t look in its eyes!” Rae squeaked. “That’s how they mesmerize you! Do you want to be snake food?”

With a cluck of her tongue, Elsa dismissed her fears. “Don’t be silly! Look. They’re… odd…”

Rae checked the top of the tank to make sure it was sealed and latched, then moved to the sink to wash her arm. Gah! What was the deal anyway? All she did was change the thing’s water!

“It’s a snake,” she grumbled.

“I think it’s blind.”

Huh? Feeling her heart clench, Rae rejoined El at the tank.

“What do you mean it’s blind?” No no no! “They’ve only been gone four days! How does a snake go blind in four days?” They’d promised the boys they would take good care of these damned things! Water on Thursday, that’s all they’d needed to do. How do you fail at water?

“Maybe it scratched them?” Elsa thought aloud.

“On what?” Rae asked.

“I don’t know! But look!” El stood back, allowing Rae free access to the tank.

Rae looked. She had to admit, out of all the snakes Donna and the boys had, this one – an African house snake named Kenji – was undeniably the most attractive, with a rich deep brown color and creamy underside. But that color had gone… off, somehow. And its eyes… since when did snakes have blue eyes and eyelids?

“Oh shit!”

“See?!”

“All I did was change the water!”

“Which it isn’t even touching!” Elsa observed tartly.

“No way could I have broken a snake!”

Elsa snorted. “How do you break a snake?”

“Like I’m supposed to know?” Hell, Damien and Mike were going to think she was the worst aunt ever! “God!”

“Why is it twitching?” she asked from behind Rae’s shoulder.

Bending closer, Rae watched, hoping El was wrong. She waved a hand along the face of the tank and sure enough, the thing spasmed.

“Snakes twitch, don’t they?”

“Hon, I think we need to go to the vet.” El was still peering past Rae, worried.

“Huh?”

Elsa straightened, the issue decided. “Veterinarian… you know. Animal doctor!”

“Do vets do snakes?”

“Who else would do snakes?”

“Good question…”

Arms folded at her chest, Elsa frowned at the snake in the tank. “She looks pissed.”

“Sure, I swiped her bowl, probably put it back in the wrong place. She’s blind, and pissed off and broken! I’d be murderous if I was her!” Rae blew on her wrist, willing the stinging away as she promised herself to ask the vet what kind of diseases snakes might carry. If she’d been infected with anything she didn’t want to pass it on to El.

“What’s wrong with your arm?” El was staring at Rae now, as if seeing her for the first time.

Rae promptly dropped said arm to her side and looked innocent.

“Nothing.”

El’s eyes narrowed again, this time on Rae, but she apparently chose not to pursue the question.

“Okay,” she said, “I’ll get the car, you bring the snake.”

Jaw dropping, Rae stared.

“Oh fine, you big wimp! You get the car, I’ll get the snake!” El began to look around the room, searching for something.

“Oh no you won’t!” Rae interrupted. “I’ll get it…” She looked back at the snake, her brow lowering in thought. “Just don’t go anywhere! I might need help.”

“It’s only an inch and a half tall!”

“And 3 feet long… with teeth!” Lots of lovely, fucking teeth, complete with bacteria, and germs, and dead frozen mouse particles, and who knows what else – all coursing happily through Rae’s blood stream with every contraction of her heart! Rae shuddered. At least none of the things were poisonous.

“Oh fine! Let’s just get something to take it in with…” El wandered off to seek out a container. “We’ll have to keep it warm I suppose. You might have to keep it in your coat…”

“I’m gonna look like a damned fool, sitting in the waiting room with a snake!” Rae groused.

“You’re going to look like a monster if it dies!”

“True.” Wincing, Rae tried not to think about that, and began to plot how she was going to survive wrangling a twitchy snake.

“Well?” Elsa asked expectantly, a flat Tupperware container in hand.

Rae blinked. “What?”

Exasperation colored El’s expression. “The snake?”

Oh, yeah… snake, right…