The Last Time Ever I Saw Her Face
Pesky Legal Stuff: I don't own Blind Justice or any of the characters from that show and am really upset that I don't. Boo Hoo
Please read and review.
Day and night have special rhythms he never noticed before he was blind. Tempos relaxed as the sun went down. It was as though the city let out a long, slow sigh and prepared for sleep. Even those nights when its frenzied pace ratcheted up and bars, bands and booze caused New York City to twitch and spasm with a glamour that dazzled its inhabitants; it still wrapped around Jim Dunbar differently than during the day. Was it an internal clock or a drop in temperature? Jim never could figure it out, but every time his fingers traced the face of his watch they told him the hour, but his intuition added the am or pm and it was never wrong.
Right now, it was 9:00 pm and those fingers felt raw from reading the book lying heavy on his lap.
"What'cha reading, Jimmy?" Christie said while she settled on the couch beside him.
"Playboy. Damn the centerfolds ain't what they used to be," he leered and waggled his eyebrows.
"Stop," she laughed.
"Actually, it's the DaVinci Code. I wanted to see what you were so interested in."
"And?"
"I like it… but I have got to admit that Braille is a bitch." He gently rubbed his hands together. "I'm being a good boy and I'm Braille-ing but books on tape are so much easier."
That was when he felt Christie take his hands in hers and gently raise them to her face. One by one, she kissed each fingertip then leaned forward and kissed his lips. "Jimmy, I've never heard you say anything like this before. Thanks, for letting me know you're not a superman."
He slipped out of her embrace. "You don't want Super Blind Guy?"
"I want you, even more when you're open. You would never admit you weren't a macho man before the shooting." Christie put on a sing song tone she knew annoyed him. "You're connecting with your feminine side, you sensitive new age guy."
"Please, shoot me now." He deadpanned and then went very still. How could she shoot him when there was no gun here, never would be again. He shook himself mentally. Jim Dunbar wasn't going to let self pity back into his life.
Christie laid her head on his shoulder. "Would you like if I read it to you?"
"But you've already read this book once."
"Twice, actually. It's a good book and I wouldn't mind reading it again. It'll be our bedtime story."
"I can think of other things to do in bed," he whispered to his wife.
"I hope those fingers aren't too sore to Braille other things tonight," her voice was sultry and warm as she pulled Jim close to her.
"You could kiss them better again," Jim leaned closer and gently traced the contours of Christie's face.
"Among other things," she purred.
The slick feel of sweat on skin, the silken tangle of her hair, salty kisses and satiny thighs, their lovemaking was richer, fuller than it had ever been. Jim lost himself in Christie now, gave himself fully to her in ways he hadn't before the shooting. Would he change things back to the ways things were before? In a heartbeat… except this sensual world he now shared with Christie.
"Penny for your thoughts," he whispered as he nipped her ear.
"Mmmm, I don't know. Things are good right now. Don't jinx it."
"Never," he traced her cheekbones with the end of his nose then kissed her cheek just as sleep captured them both.
How Could YOU! You BASTARD…
Christie. Honey! I'm so damn sorry.
DON'T YOU TOUCH ME!
Christie! CHRISTIE! It didn't mean anything. It was NOTHING!
AND WHAT ABOUT ME! AM I NOTHING TOO! GOD DAMN YOU, JIM DUNBAR…. God damn you
Christie! CHRISTIE! DON'T LEAVE ME!
"Christie!" Jim jerked awake.
"Jimmy," warm arms surrounded his shaking shoulders. "Shhh, sweetheart. It's alright."
He held her tight, reassuring himself that she was still there. "I've been such a bastard."
"No, never." Christie whispered as she gently pulled him back down on the bed.
"Whenever I get too… complacent, too smug, too happy I remember…"
"What? What's so bad?"
"The fight, when you found out about Anne Donnelly." Jim felt her stiffened beneath him, but he had to continue. "I know you wanted to slap me, belt me right in the face. You were crying, your eyes were red and your face was so… contorted, so pale. All I could see was hurt, betrayal and anger. And I never, ever saw you again. Now, when I think I've got all the answers, when I let myself think I've got it made… that image comes back… and I know I'll never be good enough for you. And I swear, I'll die before I do that to you again."
Christie didn't know what to say. She remembered the fight. God, she would have killed him if she'd had a gun in her hands. Now, though, it was a part of the past she had neatly dealt with stored away.
"That's how you see me." Her voice was ragged.
"No, not now," Jim levered himself on his elbow. "Now I see your blue eyes, your smile." His questing fingers reached for her. "There's that bump on your nose. Your chin, cheeks and forehead, all smooth and soft, this is the 'you' I see here," he touched his forehead, "and here," he extended his fingers to show them to her. "I just can never forgive myself for taking that beauty away from you for even one second."
"I've forgiven you. I just wish I could erase that image of me from your mind."
"Don't ever try. I might need a good kick in the pants if I'm ever tempted to hurt you again."
Jim held his wife as the rhythm of her breathing changed. Sleep relaxed her hold on him and gentled her in his arms. He remembered what he had been told in rehab, that someday the memories of sight would slip away. Jim would lose the blue skies, the streets he walked each day and the faces of friends and family. Damn, somehow he was going to hold on to the beautiful face of his Christie until the day he died.
FIN
