RA Adventures (C) KV 2000
If you're offended by sexual activities between men, or if you're younger than 18, it is my (sad) duty to ask you to leave. If you're over 18 and meant to be here, please, kick back, relax and enjoy!
Chapter 10
I came home from work exhausted. I walked up the steps to the apartment and tried the door. Locked. I shrugged and let myself in wondering where Clint was. I walked in and dropped my briefcase on the floor and proceeded to change into something more comfortable. I felt like I could go to bed and sleep for two or three days.
Two or three days...I thought about the previous two or three days and I sighed audibly. I'd had so much work to finish. It was the week of Thanksgiving, so I had to get a week worth of work crammed into three days. It wasn't pleasant. I walked into the kitchen and poured myself a glass of water and sunk into one of our dining room chairs. I didn't want to get too comfortable. I might not get up.
It had been two weeks since we saw Chris off at the airport. She'd been more apprehensive at the last minute than I anticipated. She said she never thought it could be so difficult, that her intentions were to leave the state in not more than a few years. She just hadn't thought it would be so soon. Neither had I. Clint obviously hadn't either.
The pain was raw on his face as her plane took off. He generally tried to mask it with anger, but he appeared to have simply let himself feel the pain. I remembered how vulnerable he looked, how almost innocent. I felt genuinely bad for the guy, but there was nothing I could really do. The pain was his to sort through. They had left things on their terms. I followed Matt's advice about staying out of the middle as close to the letter as I could.
I finished my water and lumbered back to my room and pulled out my suitcase. I went through my drawers pulling out a variety of socks and underwear not aware that I was calculating how many days worth of clothes I would need. That was the nice thing about having traveled so much when I was young. I could just go on autopilot and avoid the stress. Usually. Packing made me so pensive...then again, it didn't seem to take much these days. I felt like a nerd. Why I was suddenly so conscious of the minutiae of my life, I really didn't know, and it made me pissy. I concentrated on folding my clothes as neatly as possible and began arranging them in the suitcase.
I looked up to see Clint leaning against the frame of the door, muscular arms crossed over his chest, watching me.
"Hey. Didn't hear you come in," I said.
"I know," he said chuckling. "Do you want a folding board to make sure your corners are exactly ninety degrees?" He smiled. I wasn't amused.
"Shut up. The neater they're folded, the less they wrinkle in transit and the less I have to iron them later." He didn't need to know that it was easier to be overly meticulous about things like that when I was trying to avoid thinking too much. The thought did nothing for my nerdy feeling.
"I think I'd feel better if I gave you a dollar or something. That kind of work just shouldn't go unpaid."
"Are you *trying to be obnoxious, or is it spontaneous?" Damn. It sounded snotty even to me.
"Um, I was just gonna tell you that I put some lasagna in the oven. It takes forever to cook, but hopefully we'll at least be ready to eat by the time it's done." Great. He was being nice.
"Great. Thanks," I replied brusquely. He nodded and walked back down the hall. It didn't sound convincing to me either. I didn't like feeling like an ass and I really hated when it was entirely my doing. I finished loading my neatly folded clothes into the suitcase and laid it aside. All that was left was whatever I was going to throw in the next morning before we left.
Finished, if not satisfied, I walked back down the hall and found Clint sitting on the couch watching TV. He had one leg pulled up to his chest and one leg curled on the couch with his arm was lying across the top. He was wearing a white t-shirt and navy blue gym pants and I wondered what it would feel like to rub my hands along his sculpted chest. I eased onto the loveseat and propped my feet on the glass coffee table. His eyes never left the TV. I should apologize, probably. I didn't.
"Long day?" he finally asked, turning his eyes to me only after he'd finished the question. I sighed.
"Yeah, dude. It's been hell. I've been an asshole all day." It was as close to an apology as he was going to get that night.
"Damn. Now I don't feel special anymore." He grinned softly and I smiled in spite of myself. The tension being broken between us, we both directed our attention back to the TV.
Comfortable silence. Mmm...comfortable sofa. I felt sleep tugging at the edges of my awareness and I eventually succumbed and let it take me under.
I woke up feeling pressure on my shoulders and neck. As I regained consciousness I realized how very good it felt. I finally woke up enough to realize it was the feel of Clint's strong hands massaging my shoulders and kneading my neck. I moaned contentedly.
"The lasagna's ready, if you want some." His voice was soft and low. Combined with the magic fingers it felt like silk running up and down my spine. I nodded, still letting the massage send pleasure signals to my brain. His fingers slowed and stopped, and he lightly squeezed my shoulders with his hands before letting go.
I lifted my head and followed him with my eyes into the kitchen. He poured two glasses of red wine and set them down on the table next to the already served plates of steaming pasta. I was impressed. I pushed myself up off the sofa.
"I'm gonna wash up real quick. It looks really good." He smiled and nodded and I walked into the bathroom and splashed cool water on my face and washed my hands. I felt much more human.
I went back to the dining room and joined him at the table. His eyes met mine as was sipping from his wine glass. It was a strong contrast...the gray blue of his eyes against the deep red of the wine. The only light was coming subdued from the kitchen and it made his eyes appear to glow. The effect was intense.
"What's the occasion?" I asked, draping the napkin over my lap.
He lifted his glass toward me, his eyes never leaving mine and said, "To good friends."
I smiled and nodded before clinking his glass with mine and taking a sip. It went down smoothly and the flavors danced on my tongue. Combined with everything else it was sensory overload. I took another swallow of the wine, as if it would somehow help.
"Merlot?" I asked.
He nodded. "You like?"
"Very good. If the lasagna can compare, then I think you may have missed your true calling."
He chuckled and took a bite of lasagna. I did the same. "I won't quit my day job just yet," he finally added. It was pure modesty...the food was great.
"Well, it's great. Thanks."
"You're welcome. Every now and then I get these streaks where I feel like cooking."
"I'm glad you don't get them too often. I'd be as big as a house." He laughed and it was a warm laughter that caressed my skin.
I didn't know what was going on. I was normally so good at not being affected by Clint. We had lived together for months now and I hadn't felt this way since we first became friends. All my previous impressions came flooding back like some unseen door had opened. I remembered the tight feeling in my stomach every time I looked at him, the way his masculinity was an almost tangible force that surrounded him. I looked in his eyes and there was no guile, no pretense, just Clint. I looked back into those eyes, and for a moment, I felt like I was falling in. He must have noticed because his brow tensed in a questioning expression.
"You okay?"
"Yeah, sorry. Didn't mean to get all weird on you. I've just been thinking too much lately."
"Me too. It's been a hectic semester," he said letting out a sighing breath. "Sometimes it feels like too much stuff has happened for the amount of time it happened in. You know what I mean?"
I nodded. "I know exactly what you mean."
"Hopefully we can just let it all hang out this weekend. After Thursday it'll all calm down and we can chill, just us guys."
"Sounds good. Really good."
After we had finished eating I convinced him to let me clean up while he did his packing. It seemed only fair. As I loaded the dishwasher I realized how comfortable we had grown with each other, and for the first time I was glad he hadn't moved to Boston with Chris. It was ridiculous, but this was home now and it felt right. I hated getting attached to people, though. It always made it that much more difficult when things changed. Things always changed.
I finished cleaning up the kitchen and got ready for bed. Sure it was four hours earlier than I normally went to bed, but I needed it. I told Clint goodnight and, after setting my alarm clock for what was probably too early, I drifted off to sleep.
I woke up of my own accord the next morning and glanced over at the alarm. I was fifteen minutes early. I switched it off and jumped in the shower to clear my head. After shaving and dressing I walked into the kitchen and felt much more refreshed.
I fixed myself a bowl of cereal and ate in silence while reading the morning's newspaper. It was terribly quiet and terribly nice. I finished up and went back to my room to add my toiletries and close up the suitcase. I heard Clint's door open and he staggered sleepily out. He turned to face me and stopped.
"Morning," he said.
"Morning!" I sounded chipper and I immediately resented it.
Clint smiled sleepily, gestured toward the bathroom and said, "I'm gonna...shower." I nodded and laughed at his sleepy haze.
I heard the water turn on and after finishing my cereal and closing up the suitcase I went back to the kitchen to start a small pot of coffee. Me, I hated the stuff. I only drank it when there was absolutely nothing else to drink. Liquid poison -- but I knew it would do wonders for my roommate, so I fixed a pot. I was loading my breakfast dishes into the dishwasher when Clint stepped into the kitchen wearing just a pair of faded jeans. The jeans hung nicely on his hips and yet were loose around the waist. His hair was damp and a few water droplets still clung to his well-formed pecs. I could just imagine licking them off.
"Coffee?" he asked smiling as I handed him a mug. "Don't tell me you finally joined the ranks of the civilized?"
"The opiate of the masses -- wait, wait, that was religion, wasn't it?"
He just laughed. "No," I finally answered, "but after your efforts with dinner it seemed only fair."
"You know me too well, Kev."
"Let's just say you're better fully awake, even if you are pretty funny when you first get up."
He smirked at me. "You just lost all your brownie points."
"Oh, did I need them?" I asked.
"You need all the help you can get."
"Is that a fact?"
"Mm hmm," he assented. I rolled my eyes and shook my head, smiling.
We finished chatting, cleaning and packing and were loading our luggage into the trunk of a cab within no more than an hour and a half. We were ahead of schedule, and had plenty of time before our flight was to leave. It was exactly the way I liked to travel...unhurriedly. It was so rarely the case. We calmly walked up to the counter and got our seat assignments and boarding passes. I could see a lot of pairs of eyes following us as we walked. I couldn't blame them. We made a decent pair to look at. Clint alone was enough to attract attention, and with both of us together, I was betting we could get almost anybody we wanted. I hated when people said things like that, but I thought it anyway. The best part was that Clint seemed oblivious to it all.
We piled on to the plane with the other crowd of passengers once our row had been called. I took the window seat and Clint took the seat next to me. The aisle seat was left open. Having finished our conversation, I picked up one of the magazines sitting in the pouch on the seat in front of me and began flipping through it. It was incredibly boring, as most airplane magazines tend to be. I decided to revert to my childhood days and just look at the 'pretty pictures'. There were some times in life that it was just better that way. This was one those times.
I flipped the pages rather slowly and noticed Clint was trying to read over my shoulder. I looked up and he had a disgusted look plastered on his face.
"What?" I finally asked.
"Are you actually reading that?"
"Nope. I was just trying to find something to do."
"Yeah, we shoulda brought a book."
"I know. Oh well...I think I might crash until we get there."
"I'll probably do the same," he said, leaning back in his seat. Soon we were taxiing down the runway getting ready for take-off. I relaxed back in my seat as soon as we were airborne.
I dozed for a while and was awakened a while later by the flight attendant coming down the aisle offering everyone a beverage and the obligatory bag of peanuts. I looked over to see Clint completely out of it. His legs were spread wide and his left leg was touching mine. His jeans hugged his thighs and the white shirt he had worn contrasted sharply with his deeply tanned skin. Just the small amount of contact gave me all kinds of nefarious thoughts. Ok, so I did want his body. Fine, I could admit it.
Lust is a funny thing.
He stirred awake as the flight attendant came closer. His eyes fluttered and he stretched his neck and sat a bit straighter, but his leg never stopped touching mine. I acted as nonchalant as possible. This was normal, right? Yeah. I mean really, we were roommates, we were friends, and we'd been through a hell of a lot together. It stood to reason that we'd feel comfortable with one another.
Fortunately, I was distracted from my thoughts by the flight attendant.
Clint and I both asked for waters and pretzels. Ah, the modern conveniences of flying. Pretzels...I had found, were *one thing the airlines could manage to not screw up.
Airplane conversations were always a little stilted, so we didn't talk much on the descent. I wondered what his family would be like. I realized I really did not know very much about them at all. I knew he had one younger brother, and that his parents, like mine, were still together. It was unusual, to say the least. His mother had sounded really pleasant on the phone, and I hoped it would be the same in person. It was always strange going to someone else's family functions. You got to see all the internal family politics, struggles, embarrassments and anything else one normally keeps under wraps. Well, I suppose it all depended on how open one's family was. Mine was very open, and if Clint's mother was any indication, his was too.
Our plane touched down uneventfully and we were soon making our way down the corridor to the main terminal. Clint said he didn't know who would be there to pick him up, but that it would be somebody from his family, probably. We got to the front and Clint spotted who I only assumed was his brother. We walked up to him and they gave each other a big embrace. His brother, again presuming that's who it was, was just as genetically gifted, so to speak, as was Clint himself. He was a few inches shorter, which put him right at my height. His hair, as opposed to Clint's sleek black, was a sandy brown and his eyes were a darker shade of blue. The bone structure in his face bore similar traits...the strong jaw, chiseled features and rugged masculinity. He looked several years younger than us, but he was a hottie in his own right. My appraisal took a whole three seconds, and they released their embrace about the time I finished my assessment. The young stud walked toward me and extended his hand.
"You must be Kevin," he said. Clint put his arm around him and smiled at me as I took his brother's hand.
"Kev, this is my brother Danny," said Clint.
"Dan," he corrected him.
"Dan, nice to meet you, man." I said, gripping his hand firmly.
"You too, finally. We've heard a lot about you. Besides, you must be a pretty cool guy to put up with all Clint's shit," Dan said smiling. Clint playfully punched him in the arm.
"Yeah, well, it works both ways, I guess," I said.
"You don't have to be polite, dude. I'm his brother, I know what an asshole he can be."
"What is this? Pick on Clint day?" Clint asked, picking up his bags. "Anyway, c'mon Danny...er, excuse me...*Dan...we have to get our bags."
The two brothers' playful banter went on all through the trip home. They were the epitome of sibling squabbles turned into a solid friendship. Dan, I learned, was finishing his senior year in High School, but would not be joining his brother down South for college. Picking up that Clint hadn't been overly informative about his family, Dan proceeded to fill me in. Their father ran a consulting firm, which from what I gathered, was highly successful. Their mother was a lawyer. Clint indicated that she'd left a lot of her practice behind in recent years. They said she could afford to be as selective as she wanted with what cases she decided to take on.
We chitchatted back and forth as Dan drove us to the house. The scenery was spectacular. The Tuckers lived outside the city itself. The northern foliage was breathtaking. If Fall in the South had been something to look at, here it was all the more. The conversation in the car felt nice and comfortable...the typical strain of meeting someone new wasn't there at all. It felt as if Dan had already accepted my presence there as if it were something completely normal.
We eventually pulled into what seemed to be a large estate complete with the wrought-iron gates and huge grounds. It was really incredible. I hadn't guessed that Clint's family was that wealthy. The house looked to be a three-story home that was absolutely fantastic. It was one of those houses straight out of a movie. The lands around the house were perfectly manicured. A few evergreens dotted the landscape. I took it in stride as well as possible.
Dan pulled the car in front of the house and we quickly unloaded our bags from the trunk and piled in the front door. The entrance was all black marble with white veins. It was impressive. The foyer led into a large...living room...well, I didn't know what else to call it...with a fireplace and some really impressive furniture. I expected a butler or something of the sort to come greet us. It was *that nice.
Clint and Dan dragged me upstairs. We walked into Clint's room...my feet sank into the light gray carpet. His room was done mostly in shades of gray. The drapes were a medium shade while the comforter on the king-size bed was almost black. He pulled back the drapes and showed me the incredible view he had of what looked like a rolling countryside. I knew the city was not far off, but the effect was the same. An oversize black leather sofa sat in one corner across from the entertainment center.
Clint's room was separated from Dan's by a bathroom they both shared. It was equally impressive...and the size of my bedroom in the apartment. The counter was done in white marble that seemed to glow with a light of its own. A glass encased shower stood in the corner while a large hot tub was placed on a raised ledge in front of the window. It looked big enough for four people. All the fixtures were brushed silver.
I couldn't help myself.
"Wow..." was all I managed to say.
"Nice, huh?" Dan asked walking up to me.
"To say the least." I tried to play it cool, but I was truly impressed.
I wanted to say something ridiculous about what fantastic taste his family had, but it seemed redundant.
"Mom knows what she's doing," said Dan. I just nodded my agreement. Clint walked in the bathroom and laughed at us.
"If we're done socializing in the ladies' room I'll introduce you to Mom." I chuckled and followed him down the hall. The hall overlooked the living room below us. It was equally impressive from above. Clint led me into an office done in all light colors. It looked like it belonged on the Mediterranean. It was refreshing. A slender woman with curly black hair pulled to the back of her head faced away from us and was poring over a series of papers on the desk. The thick carpet had masked our entrance so she didn't turn to greet us. Clint crept up behind her and wrapped his arms around her from behind. She made a surprised noise and turned laughing. She quickly got up and hugged him to her. He finally released her and she turned to face me. She walked toward me and exuded class and grace in her step. She had the same commanding presence that Clint had -- if one of them walked in the room, you noticed.
She was stunning. Her perfect black curls were pulled loosely back away from her face and cascaded down her back. She took her glasses of and looked at me with gray eyes. Her features were all aquiline and yet still soft enough to be very feminine. Her skin was the same tone that gave Clint his perpetual tan. The resemblance was striking. She held her hand out and smiled warmly at me.
"Kevin, it's a pleasure to finally meet you." I took her hand gently.
"Mrs. Tucker, the pleasure is mine. Thank you for the invitation."
"It's Martina. Our house is yours and you are always welcome." I smiled and nodded.
"Let's go downstairs and have some tea, shall we?" Clint and I agreed and followed her downstairs.
I still expected a housekeeper, but thus far there was nobody. I knew there had to be someone...there was just no way to keep a house that large without help. Mrs. Tucker surprised me by knowing her way very well around the kitchen. In past experience, when someone owned a house like this they generally left the mundane duties to other people, but she was no stranger to any of it. Soon the three of us were sitting comfortably in the living room sipping tea. It was, as they say, most civilized. Mrs. Tucker wanted to be completely filled in on the goings-on of our lives. Being that Clint was the more accustomed to this treatment, I let him go first. He did and I had my turn immediately following After satisfying herself she shooed us off to relax before dinner.
As soon as we were out of earshot Clint turned and grinned at me. "Sorry about Mom, dude. She's a little...um...curious.'
"She's just being parental. No harm done." He laughed as we climbed the stairs up to his room. He was just in front of me and just high enough that his tight jean-covered butt was about a foot away from my face. I fought hard and kept my eyes focused somewhere on the middle of his back. I was glad lust wasn't something immediately tangible...I'd have been toast.
"We have a little while before dinner. We usually eat a little later in the evening...Mom prefers it that way."
"Oh really?"
"Yeah, one of those Mediterranean things, I guess." He collapsed on his bed and leaned against the headboard with his hands behind his head. I straddled a straight back chair that was sitting in the corner. He must have seen the look of confusion on my face because he continued.
"Mom's Greek...I did tell you that, didn't I?" I shook my head.
"Oops. Well anyway, she is. She and Dad met while they were studying at Oxford." I rolled my eyes. "What?" he asked.
"Oh nothing...I just suddenly feel like I should crawl back to my country little mouse- hole." He laughed until he was actually crying. Personally, I didn't see what was so funny.
"God, that's priceless. Someone finally succeeded in making *you, of all people, feel like a country mouse."
"What do you mean, *me of all people?" The only response I got was more laughter and Clint shaking his head at me. I was really feeling out of the loop.
He finally did stop laughing and we chatted and sparred back and forth until Dan showed up in the doorway.
"What's up?" he asked.
"Kevin's just being a little dense...nothing out of the ordinary." It earned a roll of the eyes and a mock yawn from me. Clint and Dan both found it amusing.
"Whatever," Dan finally said. "Anyway, Dad's home, so come say hi."
"Kay. We'll be right down," Clint said.
"Anything I should know about your Dad? Wait, wait...lemme guess, he's royalty or something, right?"
"Smart ass. No, nothing terribly unusual about Dad. Let's go downstairs and be social," he said flashing me his pearly whites. I smiled back and we followed Dan downstairs.
When we got downstairs I could hear a very low powerful voice booming through the kitchen. It wasn't that Mr. Tucker had raised his voice, it just resonated terribly well. We walked in and I caught sight of the head of the Tucker family. I now knew for sure where the remaining good looks came from. He was a couple inches taller than Clint, which made him the tallest of the three. His body looked to be that of somebody fifteen years younger. He was one of those men that were just striking at any age. He had powerful blue eyes and the same sandy brown hair that Dan had, with just the slightest bit of gray at the temples. Something in his looks also reminded me of Michael, which I suppose was logical. He took his arm from around his wife and stepped forward, hand extended, to greet me.
"Kevin. Nice to meet you, finally. Adam Tucker."
"Mr. Tucker," I said, taking his hand. He had a firm grip that felt like it could crush my hand if he wanted. That wasn't something I was used to. He exuded that same masculinity the Tucker family was known for. "Thanks for having me here."
He smiled and his eyes were warm with it. "Our pleasure."
He and Clint embraced once we had finished shaking hands, and we all chit-chatted for several minutes...long enough to find out that we'd be ordering in pizzas that night. I as pleased...even Oxford educated people at pizzas. Once we had the plan of action, we went back up to Clint's room where I plopped down on the black leather sofa across from his oversize TV. Clint sat on the bed and flipped through the channels for a while. I relaxed and soaked up the feel of the room, of the place, of the house, of Clint. This was where he was from. I was seeing more of him than I ever expected to.
I felt the inevitable sleepiness that I get whenever I sit down and fought it away. I tried to concentrate on the movie we had finally landed on, but it was no use. I blacked out.
I cleared the fog from my eyes a little while later and noticed that the TV was off. Clint was walking toward the sofa and plopped down near the end.
"Nothing on?" I asked.
"Nah. You know how it is...a million channels and still can't find anything to watch." I chuckled and sat up enough to prop my back against the arm of the sofa. His eyes locked onto mine.
"Yeah. So, what's up?"
"Nothing. Just been doing some thinking."
"About what?"
"About what you said at the beach." I raised my eyebrows questioningly.
"You know," he continued. "You said that there are some things in life that you just have to do or you'll always wonder what it would have been like...and you'll forever wonder about the what-ifs." I nodded. "I think you were right."
I gave him a small smile. "Having second thoughts, huh?"
"A lot. I just keep talking myself in circles."
"I know the feeling, but Clint, if that's how you feel then you have to go for it." I hoped I wasn't pushing my roommate out of the house.
"I want to. I'm just not sure how I need to get to where I eventually want to be."
"Eventually? Dude, don't think so far ahead. Deal with what you're feeling now and then just see where the chips fall."
"Would you believe me if I said it was easier said than done?"
"Clint, you know that the good things are worth fighting for...or at least trying. When you have something good in front of you, you don't just let it go."
He put his head in his hands. "I know."
I scooted over and put my arm around his shoulder. "You know what you want, now just do it."
He looked up at me slowly. "You don't think it's too late?" I remembered the expression on his face when Christi's plane took off...and I remembered the look on her face when she left.
"No. No," I said. "I don't so."
"Good," he said sitting up. I smiled and shook my head at him. I started to slide my arm off his shoulders and he pulled me into a hug. He leaned in to my ear and his voice came out low. "I was worried it might be." He pulled back a little farther and locked his gaze onto mine. I smiled at him. Then he started to lean back in. I tightened my arms around his back to hug him again but his right hand came up and pushed on my chest. He then lifted it and smoothed it across my cheek. My eyes must have widened because he let a warm smile spread across his face. From where I was I could smell his cologne and it was intoxicating. I felt heat creep up my body and face. His smile never wavered. He started moving toward me slowly, and I closed my eyes. I could suddenly feel the heat from his skin and his breath on my lips. He closed what had to be the last two inches and his lips lightly brushed mine. My stomach tightened and my heart threatened to pound out of my chest. I could hear my pulse in my ears. He pressed his lips firmly against mine and I kissed him back. God help me, it was all I wanted. I lay down on the sofa and he pressed against me.
I moved a little to get comfortable under him and then suddenly I was on the floor. I opened my eyes and I was sitting alone on Clint's floor. My heart was still pounding ninety to nothing. I looked around, dazed and confused. Clint was lying on the bed, breathing peacefully. I ran my fingers through my hair and it was drenched in sweat. I pushed myself to the sofa and did my best to catch my breath. My head was spinning and I just didn't want it to be true. It could still smell how his cologne smelled, and I could taste how his lips tasted. Surely it hadn't been just a dream!! I got up and went into the bathroom. I grabbed a towel from one of the shelves, stripped and got in the shower. I let the water needle down on me. I just didn't want it to be a dream. I remembered the feeling of his warm breath on my lips and I ached.
A knock at the door startled me out of my reverie. "Come in," I called. I then suddenly noticed that I was in a glass enclosed shower. Oh well.
Dan walked in. "Hey, sorry to bust up in here. Are you ok?"
"Huh?" I asked confused.
"I heard a thud from my room and when I went in there, Clint was on the bed. You were the only other person that was in there, so I thought you might have fallen or something."
"Oh," I chuckled. "I feel off the couch. Other than a bruised ego I'm fine." Dan laughed with me.
"Must have been a hell of a dream!" he said as he walked out the door.
"If you only knew..."
There it is, guys. This one took a little longer to write. Thank you all for your patience. Also, thanks to those of you who've written and shared your thoughts with me. I appreciate it *greatly. If you haven't written, please write and let me know how you like (or don't like) the story's progression. Feedback is crucial! Farscape20@hotmail.com