By D.W.Gavin
Author's Note: I don't own the Recess characters. This story takes place seven years after the Main Kids graduate from Washington High School. It is rated 'R' for content; sexual situations, strong language and violence.This isn't a 'kids on the playground' story.
All planes, weapons, places and fighter tactics described are real and are represented in this story as accurately as possible, within the limitations of the information freely available on the web. Most of the information on the fighters were taken from "The Great Book of MODERN WARPLANES", edited by Mike Spick (yes, that's his name!) and printed by Salamander Press, blah, blah, blah...
A little background information:
1. Spinelli flies an F15-A-D Super Hornet in the story, although the designation is F-18 for that fighter class, the F-15-A-D is the NAVY designation of the F-18/F Super Hornet (due to the fact that the F-15-A-D Super Hornet is bigger and badder than the F-18F/F) and boasts a two-seater version of the F-18/F.
2. Also as the location changes frequently; a new location is designated by me as having two tildes () before the location.
3. TOP GUN was located at MIRIMAR but in 1996 was converted into a Marine base. TOP GUN is now located at NAS FULLON, located approximately 60 miles outside of Reno, Nevada (where the Pylon Races are also held.
Lyrics from Star Trek: Enterprise main theme "Where My Heart Will Take Me" by Dennis McCarthy. All Rights Reserved.
PROLOGUE
From Ashley Spinelli's Diary:
Who ever said dreams don't come true?
Washington High School Senior Prom, Seven Years Ago...
"Come on, Spinelli! Just one more for me!" Gretchen smiled from behind the camera, "Pull T.J. closer and give me a big smile!"
Ashley Funicello Spinelli blushed furiously as T.J. slipped one strong arm around her slim waist, holding the side of her beautiful face. Her dimples outlined the corners of her mouth as Ashley broke into a huge grin, her face flush from the embaressment of being held so close as Gretchen clicked off two more candids of Spinelli and her date. Spinelli's body was pounded in time with the dull thumps of music that came from the gymnasium, which filled her more with trepidation than with excitement as she cast a shy glance sideways at her boyfriend. Spinelli was nearly two inches taller than T.J., and just an inch shorter than Gretchen Grundler. Her long, ebony hair was worn loose, with bangs with accentuated her classical features. Her flawless tan skin, now a bronze color, was highlighted by the off white evening dress she wore, with just a hint of sequins that sparkled in the gymasium lighting. Her lucious red lips, glistening with only a touch of lip gloss, turned upward in an amused grin as her dark, shimmering eyes darted from the floor in front of them, to her boyfriend and back again.
Spinelli ran a hand along the side of her evening dress, slit up the right about mid-thigh, exposing and ample portion of her long, well-muscled legs. Four years of being the state swimming champion for the Washington High Cougars had kept Spinelli's figure not only fit, but very pleasant to behold.
"That's it!" Gretchen teased, as she tilted her head to one side, "And say I'm sexy!"
"Okay," T.J. shot back easily, "You're sexy!"
Spinelli laughed as Gretchen snapped the camera's shutter once, then twice; before she knew it, T.J. had pulled Spinelli around and gave her a deep heart-felt kiss, while their friends looked on. T.J. returned Spinelli's hungry, longing stare with just as much enthusiasm, admiring for himself the beautiful, sensual girl Ashley Spinelli had become.
"T.J.!" Spinelli playfully patted the side of T.J.'s face, "Behave!"
"You should have said something a little bit sooner, Spin," T.J. teased, stealing one more kiss before turning back to Gretchen Grundler and her date, Gustav P. Griswold.
"Okay," he said, motioning for Gretchen's camera, "now it's your turn, Gretchen."
"Oh, no!" Gretchen objected politely, blushing herself, "that's quite alright-"
"Come on, Gretch!" Gus insisted as he took her hand in his, "After all, it's our Senior Prom!"
"You'd better do what he says, Gretch," Spinelli advised, as she continued to gently fend off T.J.'s kisses with playfull swats to his chest, "Gus has been hanging around T.J. for too long; he won't give up easily."
"Oh...alright," Gretchen feined her surrender, as T.J. took the camera from her. He motioned for Gus and Gretchen to get as close as they could while he brought the camera into focus. Gretchen giggled as she pulled Gustav close, laying her cheek on the top of Gus's falt-top hair cut, one slim hand lovingly caressing his face as they both gazed at T.J..
"Hey, Monkey Boy," Spinelli teased, holding onto his waist from behind, "are you sure you know what you're doing?I don't want you taking a picture of your thumb, okay?"
"What?" T.J. pretended to be hurt by Spinelli's accusation, "It's me, Spinelli! Trust me!"
Spinelli rolled her eyes, as though she hadn't heard that line a million times, as she noticed Mikey Blumberg and Ashley Quinlain, aka Ashley Q., returning from the punch bowl, Mikey's strong, protective arm around Ashley Q.'s slim waist. Ashley Q. waived herfingers at Spinelli, who waved them over and jestured to T.J., who seemed to be having some problem with the lens.
"Mikey! Ashley Q.!" Spinelli called out, "Come on and get into the shot; I'll get one of the teachers to take a group shot of us!" Spinelli excused herself and made off into the crowded gym of graduating Seniors from Washington High School.
Ashley Spinelli had done remarkably well; she graduated third in her class, with T.J. comming in fourth. Gretchen Grundler, of course, had taken the top honors and graduated with the highest grade point average in Washington High School history. Gus was seventh, and Ashley Q. and Mikey both tied for tenth place. Vince had done reasonably well, within the top twenty percent, which was more than sufficient to guarantee his football scholarship to Princeton in the fall. Spinelli knew that if it had not been for Gretchen Grundler's tutoring with her and T.J., Mikey and Ashley Q., she would have had little to look forward to after graduation.
As she walked away, her dark, fathomless eyes drank in her boyfriend's visage; tall, lean and well-muscled, T.J. Detweiler had grown into one of the most handsome men Ashley Spinelli had ever known. She never would have figured that he would grow up to be so damn beautiful, especially when she remembered back to grade school at Third Street Elementary. He still had that shaggy look to his hair; the same light sprinkling of freckles across his cheeks and bridge of his nose that drove Spinelli wild. But where once had been puppy fat in elementary school, was now replaced with hard, lean muscle. His wash-board stomach, strong legs and tight glutes came from four long years of playing fullback for the Washington High Cougars, which had seen them go from fourty-seventh in the state to number one. Ashley stole another glance at T.J.'s butt.
Yeah, she thought slyly, feeling her face grow hot, he's got the best damn gutes in the whole fraggin' state.
The state championship had not been won by T.J. alone, of course. Vince LaSalle had become Washington High's star quarterback, and there was already talk of a professional football team ready to take him on when he graduated Princeton. Still, over the last two years, Vince and the rest of the gang had grown apart; especially after the incident just after football try outs at the beginning of their Senior year.
Vince and T.J. had both gone out for the quarterback position, with Vince coming out on top by a sizeable margin. If that weren't bad enough, Vince had seemed to have gone out of his way to rub T.J.'s nose in it. At first, T.J. had taken it all in stride; but as Vince, in his traditional way, decided that just beating out T.J. for the position of quarterback wasn't good enough; he had to rub T.J.'s nose in it. But rather than confronting Vince about his egotism, T.J. had withdrawn into himself. It had taken Ashley several weeks to get T.J. back to his old self, but she never forgot how bad Vince made T.J. feel. Ever since that time, Ashley Spinelli no longer considered Vince part of the gang as she once did; she still talked to him, when she had to, but she steered clear of him whenever possible. Just because she may have forgiven Vince for his wrong doings, Ashley had never forgotten. Despite the fact that Vince LaSalle was conspicuously absent from the group, Spinelli pretended not to notice.
"Are you lost, Miss Spinelli?" the gruff, gravelly voice of Coach Wedermeyer asked, which caused Spinelli to jump involutarily.
"W-what?" she asked dumbly.
"You're wandering around the gym floor as though you were lost," he pointed out with an amused grin on his round face, "can I help you?"
"Um, yeah," Spinelli shook her daydreaming off, "in fact you can, Coach; I need someone to take a couple of pictures of my friends and I before they announce the King and Queen of the Prom. Would you mind, sir?"
"Not at all," he said, "where are they?"
"This way," Spinelli took him by the arm as she led him back to her friends.
"How do I look, Micheal?" Ashley Q. asked her gentle giant. Mikey kissed her hand in reponse.
"If there is any maiden here more fair than thee, I have seen them not," Mikey posed, as Ashley Q. sent him a quick kiss as his reward.
Mikey 'the Bomber' Blumberg was the biggest offensive tackle in Washington High history. Mikey was now over six foot two inches and weighed in at over two hundred and thirty eight pounds, most of which was muscle. Despite his gigantic size, however, Mikey was still Mikey at heart; he was the the Big Guy, Lovable Lumox, the Big Kahunna. He was still as gentle and as poetic as Spinelli had ever remembered him, even when they were at Third Street, but now he was the other half of Vince LaSalle's ticket to fame and fortune. But unlike Vince, Mikey had tried out for Wshington High school football after he considered the 'zen' of the game and how it would help him to deal with life since his step-mother had past away when he was at Third Street. Although those events had happened years ago, it was a wound which was still very much a part of Mikey Blumberg's life and probably would be for many years to come. But with friends like those he had in school and the deep, pure love of Ashley Q. to support him, Mikey had finally managed to push past the loss and set his sights on the future.
Ashley Quinlain, or Ashley Q. as she was still known, still dated Mikey and their love was stronger than ever. Ashley softly smiled as she thought of the countless double dates that she, T.J., Ashley Q. and Mikey had gone on together. Now with graduation upon them all, Mikey and Ashley Q. had stunned the gang by announcing their pending engagement later that summer, with a wedding date set for sometime the following year. Mikey worked for Ashley Q.'s father directly, as a Worker-Management Relations negotiator after Mikey had helped Quilain Industries avoid a potentially crippling strike. This single stroke of genius had forever endeared Mikey Blumberg to the Quinlain family, so Ashley Q. decided to press their advantage; she and Mikey announced their engagement, which now had the whole-hearted blessings of the Quinlains. As far Ashley Q. knew, she and Mikey were the only offically engaged couple in Washington High.
Gus and Gretchen stood close, their arms wrapped tightly about one another, as T.J. Detweiler took several snapshots of the couple, then turned to Mikey and Ashley Q., who comically posed with each other while T.J. snapped several more pictures. Ashley Q. stood on her tip toes, pulling Mikey's chubby face towards her and planting several kisses on his cheeks, grinning as T.J. snapped off a few more pictures.
"Hey, guys!" Spinelli called out over the buzz of the music and talking to be heard, "Coach Wedermyer said he'd take some pictures of all of us!"
Spinelli took her boyfriend's arm and led T.J. over to Gretchen and Gus, who made room enough for four more, as Coach Wedermyer held the camera close, taking aim.
"Okay, kids," the coach said, waving his hands to them, motioning the three couples to move closer together, "smile! This is it! This one is for the history books!"
T.J. Detweiler stood on the outside, farthest to the left, with Ashley Spinelli next to him, her arms wrapping around his own, as he pulled her close while Spinelli leaned her head back slightly into T.J.'s shoulder. Gretchen Grundler was to Spinelli's left, holding her long, slender arms around Gus as she planted a warm, inviting kiss on her boyfriend's cheek, who smiled and blushed. Ashley Q. stood to the opposite of Gus, nestled comfortably into her fiancee's massive arms as Mikey gave a wave at Coach Wedermeyer and the camera.
CLICK!
"Great!" he said, as Gretchen came over and thanked Coach Wedermeyer as she gently took the camera from him and swapped out the exposed film for a new roll from her purse.
"Gee, Gretch," Gus said, "how many rolls of film did you bring, anyway?"
"Enough to ensure that everyone will get a set of these after graduation, Gus," Gretchen said matter-of-factly.
"Make sure you hold onto those negitives, Gretch," Spinelli said, "I'll want some copies to send to my relatives; and I did promise Mrs. Detweiler I'd get her and Teej's dad their very own set, too."
"My mom and dad want these pictures, too?" T.J. asked, mildly shocked.
"Of course," Spinelli replied, "and so do my parents."
"Just as long as I get mine," T.J. said dismissively.
"Don't worry, boy of mine," Spinelli cooed, stroking the side of his face gently, "I promise you'll get yours, too."
She finished with a wink, which caused T.J. to pause, wondering exactly what she meant, but before he could question her further, the music ended as Principal Haskell took the stage, tapping on the mike in front of him.
"May I have your attention, please?" he asked as the murmur of the couples died down, "it's with a great sense of pride that I announce it is time to unveil our King and Queen of Washington High School, Class of 2004!"
Applause and excited chatter filled the air as the lights in the gym dimmed to near total blackness, a single bright spotlight now focused on Principal Haskell alone. Spinelli pulled T.J. around to her side, wrapping one arm around his waist as she leaned close to her date.
"I wonder who got elected?" she asked, glancing about, "I'll bet it was Mikey and Ashley Q.."
"Why's that, sweetheart?" T.J. asked.
"Are you kidding?" Spinelli looked at him with an amused grin, "Everyone's been talking about their engagement for the past several months; they're like the 'Romeo and Juliet' of school."
"It would be cool to see them get it," T.J. nodded, "but we're in the running too, you know."
"Mom always said never get your hopes up too high," Spinelli admonished him gently, "but yeah; that would be cool."
"May I have the envelope, please?" Principal Haskell asked, as Miss Jones, the biology teacher, appeared from the darkness and handed it to him in a flurry of clapping.
"And the King and Queen of Washington High, Class of 2004 are-Ashley Spinelli and T.J. Detweiler!"
Spinelli was blinded by the sudden and intense spotlight which shone upon her and T.J. as she turned and threw her arms around her King. Mikey, Ashley Q., Gretchen and Gus all crowded around the royal couple as Spinelli wiped the tears from her eyes, while T.J. held her close and waved his thanks to his friends, while leading his Queen to the center of the gymnasium to accept the honors.
"Congradulations!" Principal Haskell crooned, as Spinelli was doned with a tiere' and given a bouqet of roses, while T.J. whispered to Principal Haskell as to what song he and Spinelli would dance to.
"Come on, my Queen," T.J. said, kissing Spinelli squarely on the mouth, which illicited cheers and clapping from the massive crowds, "let's dance."
"S-sure, Teej," Spinelli replied shakily as her date led her to the dance floor as the mirrored ball high above reflected thousands of tiny white lights all across the gym floor. Spinelli no longer fought back the tears that fell, but just looked at her lover as the music began. She took him into her arms, still shaking, as T.J. held her close. As the music began, a shiver went down Spinelli's spine, as she began whispering the words to her favorite song:
- Where My Heart Will Take Me
It's been a long road, getting from there to here.
It's been a long time, but my time is finally near.
And I can feel the change in the wind right now. Nothing's in my way.
And they're not gonna hold me down no more, no they're not gonna hold me down.
Cause I've got faith of the heart.
I'm going where my heart will take me.
I've got faith to believe. I can do anything.
I've got strength of the soul. And no one's gonna bend or break me.
I can reach any star. I've got faith, faith of the heart.
It's been a long night. Trying to find my way.
Been through the darkness. Now I finally have my day.
And I will see my dream come alive at last. I will touch the sky.
And they're not gonna hold me down no more, no they're not gonna change my mind.
Cause I've got faith of the heart.
I'm going where my heart will take me.
I've got faith to believe. I can do anything.
I've got strength of the soul. And no one's gonna bend or break me.
I can reach any star. I've got faith, faith of the heart.
I've known the wind so cold, I've seen the darkest days.
But now the winds I feel, are only winds of change.
I've been through the fire and I've been through the rain.
But I'll be fine ...
Cause I've got faith of the heart.
I'm going where my heart will take me.
I've got faith to believe. I can do anything.
I've got strength of the soul. And no one's gonna bend or break me.
I can reach any star. I've got faith, faith of the heart.
Cause I've got faith of the heart.
I'm going where my heart will take me.
I've got faith to believe. I can do anything.
I've got strength of the soul. And no one's gonna bend or break me.
I can reach any star. I've got faith, faith of the heart.
From Star Trek: Enterprise main theme, "Where My Heart Will Take Me"
by Dennis McCarthy, all rights reserved
As they danced, Spinelli snuggled with T.J., her face next to his, as they swayed gently to the music, while Mikey and Ashley Q. made their way out onto the dance floor. Spinelli gave Ashley Q. a smile and wink as Ashley Q. smiled in return, being overwhelmed by Mikey Blumberg's massive frame. Gretchen and Gus followed right behind Mikey and Ashley Q., as Spinelli continued to whisper the lyrics to herself.
There was something special about that song, she thought; something that made her feel better about herself whenever she heard it. T.J. could feel Spinelli's breath on his neck as she sang softly along, the words drifting to his ear. He smiled, satisfied.
"Why did you choose that song, baby?" Spinelli asked.
"Because it reminds me of you," T.J. said seriously, "it always did. Like when you once told me that you wanted to be a fighter pilot back in the fourth grade. When I hear that song, I picture you flying through the sky."
"It's just a dream," she said quietly, looking away.
"Dare to dream, Spin," T.J. said. Spinelli looked at him quizically, her dark eyes, filled with tears, shimmered like two black diamonds.
"Do you really think I could be a fighter pilot?" she asked timidly.
"You could if you wanted it bad enough," he replied seriously, "you've got the grades."
"But that would mean-" she began.
"Yeah, I know," T.J. said, "it would mean that we would not see each other for a long time; maybe forever."
"I don't know if I could deal with that." Spinelli shook her head, a cold, wet feeling in the pit of her stomach.
T.J. stopped dancing and gently took Spinelli's face in his hands, holding it as though he were holding a newborn baby.
"I love you, Ashley," T.J. told her, "and if that means I would stand by you what ever you decide. That's what love is all about; it's not about me...it's about you."
From light to dark...as though the sun itself had been seized and thrown to the ground, the western sky exploded in a firey crash that heralded the end of the day; boiling reds, golds and ambers set fire to the clouds above, burnning like brimstone in deep redish hues. The crimson scar of the setting sun, which split light from dark, day from night, earth from sky, slowly faded as the full moon rose over the horizon, shining once more on the world below. The soft chirpings of crickets filled the evening air like a favorite melody which buzzed in the ears of Ashley Funicello Spinelli as she walked hand in hand with T.J. Detweiler through the parking lot of Washington High School, to get some fresh air.
She could feel her heart racing in her ample chest, causing her to occassionally fight for a deep breath as she and T.J. made their way along the rows of parked cars, headed for T.J.'s broken down, rusted out station wagon which had brought them to their Senior Prom, intent on spending some personal time together...possibly for the last time.
"Hey, Teej?" Spinelli whispered softly as she stopped in her tracks, pulling gently on his arm. T.J. stopped immediately.
"What's wrong, Spin?" he asked, "Is my bow tie on crooked?"
"No, it's not that," she smiled, "I was just thinking...why don't we skip the rest of the dance?"
T.J. just looked at her for a moment, dumbfounded.
"Baby," T.J. said softly, "this is the last dance of school; our Senior Prom. Don't you want to stay?"
"Of course I do, you crazy monkey boy," Spinelli playfully punched his chin, causing him to laugh, "I was just thinking that maybe we could do a little celebrating of our own for graduation...if you know what I mean."
"What are you? Oh!" T.J.'s eyes suddenly grew wide, "I...uh...I think I know what you mean."
Spinelli said nothing in return, but simply winked at him.
"How much money have you got?" Spinelli asked, as she began to dig through her purse.
"About three hundred dollars," T.J. answered, thinking about it.
"That should be enough for a nice room at the Lakeside Bed and Breakfast, don't you think?" Spinelli reasoned.
"Are you sure about this, Spin?" T.J. asked, his throat suddenly dry.
"I've never been with anyone else, and neither have you," she said, as the two started to walk again, "and you've never pressured me into doing it before I was ready; which by the way, I want to thank you." She kissed him squarely on the mouth, feeling the moistness of her lips against his.
"You don't have to-" T.J. began, but Spinelli placed a finger on his lips.
"I want to, Teej," she said honestly, her face hot, "I mean, we're both adults now; so it's not like we really need anyone's permission. And there's nobody else I'd rather be with tonight than you."
"Right," T.J. exhaled, his own voice shaking, "but I always thought we would wait until we were...you know...married."
Ashley Spinelli looked away from him for a long moment, then sighed.
"Teej," she began slowly, "I'm going off to Berkley in the fall, and you've already got an appointment with the Naval Academy. Those places are on the opposite sides of the country."
Spinelli's heart winced when she saw the expression of sadness in her boy's eyes; but she also saw resignation as well. T.J. stopped again and brought Spinelli around in front of him, taking her hands in his, rubbing them gently.
"Just make me a promise first," he said.
"What promise?" she asked slowly.
"That if you ever decide to get married," T.J. said, looking directly into her dark eyes, "that you'll at least give me first shot at it."
"Baby," Spinelli grinned, "if I ever do marry, you'll be the one...I promise."
The countless stars twinkled in the heavens as if a thousand firey diamonds were sprinkled in the night sky while the old Detweiler family stationwagon made its way slowly up the narrow, winding road. A light breeze had begun just after sunset, and now softly whistled through the evergreens as Ashley Spinelli took a deep breath and listened to the old rock and roll station on the radio as her lifelong boyfriend, T.J. Detweiler, guided the creaking and sputtering car to a stop in front of a quaint Victorian styled house set near Indian Lake.
The Lakeside Bed and Breakfast was a turn of the century Victorian home which had been converted into a bed and breakfast after Thaddius T. Third the Fifth had bought all of the lakeside property in one, massive land deal, to prevent its development. Indian Lake was nearly two miles straight across at its widest point, lined on all sides with a forrest of evergreen trees and thick, green grass. Along the north shore was an old time swimming hole, which legend had said been opened during the Great Depression, to give the common people somewhere to have fun. The Lakeside Bed and Breakfast was located on the western shore, facing east, so that its patrons would catch the first rays of a new morning.
Ashley Spinelli reached across T.J.'s lap and squeezed his left thigh as she seductively kissed the side of his neck, while T.J. brought the old family car to a stop. The wheezing engine died down and sputtered once more, before T.J. turned off the headlights and pocketed the keys in his jacket. He turned and wordlessly pulled Spinelli close to him, caressing her cheek and running his fingers along her jaw, while he sampled the sweetness of her lips.
"I got a little surprise for you, Ashley," T.J. confessed, kissing her lips ever so softly.
"If you're wearing Señior Fusion underoos, I'm gonna kill you," Spinelli teased. T.J. blushed and laughed.
"Even better," he said, "Come on."
T.J. and Ashley got out of the stationwagon, Spinelli having to throw her bare shoulder against the rusted passenger door, while T.J. went around to the back of the car and removed a portable CD player. Spinelli came up to him, a curious expression on her face.
"Making love to the Top 40?" Spinelli asked, which illicited yet another blush from her boyfriend.
"Something very special," he said as he reached for Spinelli's slim hand. Spinelli took it eagerly as the two teenagers made their way across the sugar white sand of the parking lot towards the front of the Lakeside Bed and Breakfast. A warm glowly light came from the windows and the front porch as T.J. helped Spinelli up the steep stairs. Spinelli waited as T.J. opened the door, then stepped inside the cozy inn.
The lobby was done in turn of the century style, with a thick red rug trimmed in gold which ran up the spiral stairs to the bedrooms above. Off to their left was a dark stained oak front desk, its surface polished to a high shine. There was an old guestbook which was off to one side, and an antique brass bell in front. Spinelli tapped the brass bell twice, while T.J. pulled out his pen and signed them in. He paused, looking back at Spinelli uncertainly.
"Should we say that we're newlyweds?" T.J. asked in a hushed whisper. Spinelli giggled.
"Sure," Spinelli cooed, "why not?"
"Mr. and Mrs. ?" T.J. asked, waiting for an answer.
"Detweiler," Spinelli finished, a quirky smile on her lips, "or have you forgotten?"
The door behind the front desk opened while T.J. took delight in signing himself and Ashley in as a married couple, when he felt Spinelli tap him on his shoulder.
"What?"
Spinelli's face was ashen white, her mouth open in shock as she pointed to the desk clerk who stood before them. T.J. looked up...and dropped his pen.
"Miss Finster!" T.J. wailed.
"Well, well, well," the hulking form of Muriel P. Finster hovered over the two young lovers like a gargoyle, "T.J. Detweiler...we meet again. And I see you brought Miss-"
She took the sign in book and turned it slightly, so she could better read what fabrication Detweiler and written down.
"I'm sorry!" she mocked, "Mrs. Detweiler; my, what a beautiful name! Ashley Detweiler. Kind of rolls off the tongue, doesn't it?" She cocked a penciled eyebrow at the two lovers.
"I-er-uh-that is-we," T.J. fumbled.
"What are you doing here, Miss Finster?" Ashley asked, mildly irritated.
"I've been retired for a number of years, Mrs. Detweiler," Miss Finster replied easily, leaning on the front desk with a meaty arm, "so I decided to buy this cute little bed and breakfast."
"Oh, how...wonderful," Ashley quipped dryly, "for you...I mean."
"So, Detweiler," Miss Finster glanced back at the sweaty form of her old elementary school nemesis, "I don't suppose you have a marriage licence to go along with that name?" She stabbed a clawed finger at the scribbling.
"Well, you see Miss Fisnter-" Detweiler began, but Muriel Finster held up her hand, not wanting to hear any of his little white lie.
"Spare me the swan song, you truant little hooligan," Finster broke in, "just make sure that you treat Mrs. Detweiler with tenderness; got me?"
T.J. nodded, "Yes, ma'am. Always."
"That'll be-" she did some quick mental calculations, "one hundred bucks even."
Detweiler started to unfold the cash, mostly in small bills, when Miss Finster placed her gnarled hand on the cash.
"For anyone else, a hundred bucks," she continued with a wink, "but for you two-fifty bucks; and I'll throw in breakfast in bed."
"I-er-" T.J. began to stutter once more, so Spinelli stepped in.
"That's fine, Miss Finster," she said politely with a geniune smile, "and thanks." Spinelli removed the cash from T.J.'s hand and gave it to Miss Finster, who stored it in a lock box below the front desk.
"You take good care of him, Spinelli," Finster jerked a thumb at the still stunned T.J. Detweiler, "and go easy on him; I hear young boys break easy."
"I'll take good care of him, Miss Finster," Spinelli winked back, "but I can't promise I won't break him."
As Ashley Spinelli and T.J. Detweiler made their way up the winding staircase to their private room, Miss Finster's cackle could be heard echoeing throughout the inn. T.J. shivered.
"Talk about a major turn-off!" he complained, but Spinelli just laughed.
"I think I can get your little motor running again, boy of mine," Spinelli purred, as she and T.J. walked down the dimly lit hallway towards their room at the far end. Spinelli unlocked the door as T.J. glanced back over his shoulder once more, half expecting to see Miss Finster stomping up the stairs after them.
"Will you relax, Teej?" Spinelli giggled softly, "It's not like she gonna send you to the Box or anything."
"What are the chances of Muriel P. Finster!" T.J. quietly started to complain, but a sudden and deep kiss from Ashley Spinelli melted away his fears. They held each other tightly for several long minutes, tasting the forbidden fruits for the first time. When their lips parted, T.J. exhaled slowly.
"I'm gonna slip out of this dress," Spinelli said slyly, "why don't you put on some of that music and get out of that tux?"
Spinelli paused, then added evilly, "Not all the way; after all I want to have some fun, too."
"O-Okay," T.J. still stood in front of Spinelli, too stunned by her kiss to move for a second or two.
"And you might want to close the door, lover," Spinelli waved a hand at him, while she made her way to the bathroom, "after all, this ain't no peep show."
"Great whompin' bobbula..."
Ashley Spinelli closed the bathroom door, her small, round nose scenting the light fragrances that came from the potporri dish on the sink, as she removed her shoes. She turned one way then the other, as she looked at herself in the mirror, as she realized she was no longer the pig-tailed little girl she once was; she was a woman now. The thrill of finally giving herself to T.J. sent shivers all over her skin as she wondered if this was what it felt like to be married. To go to sleep with T.J. every night, to spend the rest of her life with the one boy she loved more than anyone else in the whole universe was a nice dream.
So, why hasn't that rockhead ever asked you to marry him? she lamented to herself as she stared at her own reflection in the mirror, Was it your 'tough as nails' attitude?
Did you make him wait too long for this night?
Why did you make him wait so damn long!
Why won't he ask me!
Maybe it's because you never gave him the chance...
This was it, Spinelli thought; no more school dances. No more double dating with Gretchen and Gus, or partying the whole weekend with Mikey and Ashley Q., only to come home and be grounded for a week at a time. No more secret rendevous with T.J. after school for a little personal time; no more summers just lying around and having fun. No more sneaking out of her bedroom widow to meet T.J. in the middle of the night at his treehouse and no more trying to sneak him past her parents, who always waited up for her whenever Spinelli went out on a date.
There was a certain sadness to it all, she thought; life would never be the same again as it was when she was in school. Still, it had been a good time; four years of high school had made Spinelli grow up in a hurry. Now, T.J. was scheduled for the Naval Academy in the fall, thanks to Gus's father, Major Griswold. A word here, a favor there, and T.J. was in. It was just that simple, when you knew the right people.
Spinelli smiled as she thought about how much T.J. Detweiler had changed since Third Street Elementary. All those years of being around Gretchen Grundler seemed to have rubbed off on the boy, she thought; T.J. was now one of the most driven people Ashley Spinelli had ever seen, once he knew what he wanted. As for Ashley Spinelli, the University of Southern California at Berkley was her first stop on an ROTC scholarship; then right into the Navy. But not tonight; she thought, licking her lips anxiously.
Tonight belonged to them alone...
T.J. Detweiler folded his tux on the chair nearest the bed, his heart beating so rapidly, it pounded in his ears. He cast a glance back at the bathroom where Spinelli had disappeared into some twenty minutes before. All T.J. could see, at the moment, was the light from beneath the bathroom door.
And on the other side of that door...was Ashley Spinelli.
"Okay, Teej, old boy," he fought to keep his breath steady, "just relax and don't pass out on her. No jokes; no wise-ass remarks. Not tonight. Just be your usual charming self."
He sampled his own breath, quickly grabbed a breath spray and doussed some mint on his tongue, while he desperately fought to keep his hands steady. He put the spray into the nightstand, then realised he had not turned down the bed.
Should he? Or would that be assuming too much?
She's not here to play hopscotch with you, you big dope, Detweiler admonished himself.
T.J. paused at that moment, as he reached into his jacket which hung on the back of a chair and removed a small velvet box. He glanced back at the closed bathroom door, to make certain that Spinelli wasn't about to open it, as he looked at the engagement ring he had bought for her.
It was a simple ring; a one carrot diamond mounted on a beautiful gold band. T.J. gazed at it sadly.
How many months had he worked to buy it? He couldn't even begin to guess.
How long had he carried it around with him, every day, always waiting for just the right moment to ask Ashley Funicello Spinelli to marry him? But that moment never came?
He had no clue.
Now, it was too late, he thought; Spinelli had finally voiced what she really wanted to do with her life.
Become a fighter pilot. She'd wanted to be one ever since the fourth grade.
T.J. forced his growing sense of despair back into the shadows once again, where they belonged. He tucked the ring back in his jacket.
After all, he realised wistfully, why would a girl like Ashley Spinelli ever want to marry a bum like you?
Nodding in silent agreement with himself, T.J. jumped up in his briefs, and turned down the bed. Not satisfied, he smoothed out the blankets, hoping that he didn't seem too eager. He sampled his breath again, then realised he had already done it, when the bathroom door suddenly unlocked with a click, and the bathroom light went out. Like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car, T.J. Detweiler froze...as his heart stopped.
A bluish light cast an amibent glow into the bedroom as Ashley Spinelli emerged, her own heart racing like mad, as she walked slowly towards him, a shy, uncertain look in her dark eyes, as T.J. slowly took in every curve of Spinelli's figure. Her long, tan legs gave way to curvacious hips; her stomach, slim and taut, sparkled with a diamond stud in her navel. Spinelli's mouth was dry, her lips parched. She licked them quickly, trying her best not to bite her lower lip which was her habit since grade school.
"So...what do you think?" she asked breathlessly, well aware that she stood before T.J., with nothing hidden. She turned slowly around, giving T.J. a view from every which way, her mouth dry.
"I-I never knew you...were so-" he began, "I mean, you're so...you're an angel, Ashley."
Ashley Spinelli blushed at the compliment, as her dark, fathomless eyes glanced over at the CD player, which was playing Spinelli's favorite song.
"Come here," she said, pulling T.J. in front of her, wrapping her arms around his bare chest and closing her eyes as she felt his strong arms hold her gently close to him. The heat from T.J.'s bare skin against her own sent Spinelli's senses reeling; she took in a deep breath, sampling his scent as she kissed his neck and chest.
"Love me, my crazy monkey boy," she begged, pulling him down.
And still the music played.
Just one song.
Her favorite song.
And all night, Ashley Funicello Spinelli followed where her heart would take her...