Disclaimer: Scarecrow and Mrs. King is the property of Warner Brothers and Shoot the Moon Productions. This story is the property of my own imagination and is for entertainment purposes only! I retain the right to the plot, not the characters! No copyright infringement is intended!
Thank you to my longtime beta friend Lanie for her always useful help and for finding the perfect title for this first chapter.
A/N: This is the first chapter from a series of One Shots I plan to do. Each one will get it's own rating and title. There won't be a defined timeframe or count on chapters. I plan to publish them they way they cross my mind. I hope you enjoy.
Say Uncle
Rated T for some language.
"Are you sure we won't get into any trouble?" she asked as he ushered her into the room of the impressive building and locked the door.
"Don't worry, I've got everything under control," he reassured her huskily and began to nuzzle her neck, setting her on fire anew as he pressed her slender figure against the door with his body. A shiver of excitement and of 'getting caught in the act' flooded through her as his lips found the little spot behind her ear, while his hands wandered under her light blouse to caress her braless breasts.
She let out a gasp. "Oh, I knew the first moment I saw your hands that they would work magic on me."
He chuckled and whispered seductively in her ear, "My hands aren't the only magical parts of my body."
With that he pulled her away from the door toward the bed when a loud sound interrupted the intimate atmosphere.
She jumped a little. "Was that a jet fighter?"
"Yes, air corridor," he murmured as he drew her body back against his.
"How exciting!" she gushed. "I've never been at a place like this be-"
He silenced her with his lips before he replied, "And I promise you won't forget this place."
"Show me," she whispered and kissed him back provocatively.
They moved to the bed while kissing, touching and pulling on each other's clothes until there was nothing more left. He let go of her to bend over, and opened the drawer of his nightstand. In it was a little casket with a false bottom. He reached for it, opened it and pulled out a condom. His nervous fingers fumbled with the wrapper. He needed to be careful; otherwise it would be over before it had even started.
"Let me?" she asked and took the contraceptive from his trembling fingers and helped him to put it on.
Fifteen minutes later both separated under heavy breathing.
"That…was...wow," she said, still catching her breath.
"Yeah. I'm surprised myself," he puffed out; "It's been a while and with my trembling fingers," he paused and blushed slightly, "almost didn't happen. Thank you," he smiled sincerely at her.
She winked at him "You're welcome. It wasn't entirely selfless thinking of me, was it?"
"Nope," he replied with a chuckle as he got out of bed to dispose the used contraceptive.
She watched in fascination as he walked over to the wastebasket and mused, I didn't even know he had dimples there, too. Indeed a night I won't Forget…
Meanwhile outside the room …
"Right here, Sir. That's where I heard the voices and noises coming from."
"Thank you, Ripley. I'll take it from here. You can leave."
"Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir." The younger man saluted and left.
"You better batten down your hatches, Buddy" he quietly said as he fumbled with his set of keys in order to find the right one. Eventually, he'd found the fitting key and inserted it in the lock…
Inside the room …
"Oh shit! Hurry up, trouble is on its way!" he rushed her while throwing on his tee, boxers and jeans, almost losing his balance as he fought with the offending garments.
A look of pure shock crossed her face as she jumped out of bed to throw herself in her clothes. "What? Why? I thought you'd say we would be safe. Didn't you lock the door?"
"Of course I locked the door." He pointed with his finger to the key sitting in its lock.
Both had just managed to jump back in their clothes when they watched in horror as the key slowly turned to the side and in the next moment, the door was flung open...
"What the hell…?" The voice of an older and obviously far-beyond-furious man demanded to know, as he entered the room.
While she blushed and looked down in embarrassment, the younger man stepped instinctively in front of her, with his arms crossed in front of his chest.
Their eyes met. The older man spoke first. "You shouldn't be here and you know it, don't you, Skip?"
"Skip? Didn't you say your name is Lee?" she asked confused.
"My name is Lee," he sternly replied through clenched teeth, without looking at her, but addressed at the other man who stood a few meters across from them, "and if I had known that he would be here today, I would have never brought you here." He turned his head and apologized in a softer voice. "I'm sorry."
"It's okay, Lee," she gently reassured him.
Robert Clayton cleared his throat and came a few steps closer. "Don't you think you owe at least two another apologies, Skip? How about one for not being at the college where you should be and one for breaking in here."
Lee's head snapped around and his tone was hard as he argued, "I didn't break in here, did I? I have a key. You gave it to me, do you remember? And what are you doing here anyway?"
"Plans have changed," Robert explained coolly. "I got a call from your college when I arrived here that you – for the third time this month – neglected it and then I run into our rookie Ripley, who told me about noises and voices coming from this room. Care to explain?" He asked with a pointed glare.
"Your rookie is a damn backstabber!"
"Watch your language, Son!"
Lee's jaw clenched as he spat out hatefully, "I'm not your son and I will never be!"
"He's not your father?" she asked carefully, almost whispering.
"NO!" both men firmly exclaimed simultaneously.
The tension in the room rose further as both men stared at one another like two animals ready to fight.
"I…uh…should...I better," she stammered and gestured to the door, "… go."
They almost had forgotten that they weren't alone.
"Where are my manners? I'm sorry. My name is Robert Clayton, I'm Lee's uncle," he said friendly and held out his hand while Lee stepped aside to cool down his temper. "And you young lady are?" he asked.
"Sandrine, Sir. Sandrine Du Lac," she replied shyly.
"And you are how old, Sandrine?"
"I turn seventeen in a few weeks, Sir
"Well, at least you aren't much younger. But shouldn't you be also in school instead of here?"
"No, I'm not from here. I'm from Europe. France, Sir. My parents and I are spending the fall holidays here in Washington visiting relatives.
"I see," Robert replied and added, "Look, I'm sorry you got caught in the crossfire between my nephew and me. The circumstances are … complicated. I'm responsible for Lee," he tried to explain the precarious situation.
Lee's facial expression hardened as he turned to face his uncle. "Responsible, yeah, that's the fitting word for it, is it? I have never asked you to take responsibility for me, have I? Why couldn't I have stayed with Grandma? She, at least, was always there for me, when you weren't."
"Because she got sick and she wasn't able to take care of you any longer. I've explained this to you countless times, haven't I? Do you think I was asked when Grandma got sick? No, I wasn't, but I jumped right in the cold water, no matter the circumstances. After all, I promised it when I buried your parents."
Tears began to form in Lee's eyes. "And where were you when you weren't dragging me from one Air Force base to another, huh? Can you explain this to me, too? But please spare me the 'I had a job to do' speech. I can't hear it anymore!"
Robert sighed deeply. "Look, Skip…Lee, I…uh…know how you feel about this but-"
"You don't know a damn thing about how I feel!" he shouted. "You weren't the one who lost both parents, were you? So don't tell me you know how I feel."
The first tears were rolling down his heated and reddened cheeks and he brushed them defiantly away with the back of his hand. His uncle hated tears! He always had said tears are a sign of weakness and weakness makes you vulnerable and your enemy only stronger.
"No, I wasn't. But I have lost my one and only younger brother. A brother I loved with my heart and my soul and I also lost the most wonderful and caring sister-in-law I could have ever known. You weren't the one who had to identify their horrible battered bodies, were you? I wished I could remember them just the way you do and not the way they were when I had to go down into the cold morgue. Have you ever considered it from my point of view? No, you haven't because I have never told you the truth until now. I wanted to protect you from the brutal reality!" Robert shouted back.
Lee's face took an ashen color as he processed the words he just had heard.
Sandrine watched the scene with mixed feelings. Just as she was about to walk to the door to leave them alone, the mentioned one sprang open and two men burst into the room, guns in hand.
"Oh my God," she first jumped, then screamed and her face took on an ashen color as well.
"We heard the screaming and we thought you might need help, Sir," Ripley explained and lowered his gun. Jefferson, who was with him, lowered his gun as well.
Lee, his face still pale, grabbed for his shoes as a feeling of nausea overwhelmed him. He pushed his way past Sandrine and the two men. "I'm going to be sick; he managed to choke before he started to retch heavily and bolt from the room.
"Thank you, Men. Would you do me a favor, Ripley?" Robert Clayton addressed the rookie who stood at attention.
"Yes, Sir. What can I do for you, Sir?"
"Please make sure this young lady here makes it home to her family safe and sound," he nodded in Sandrine's direction, "I have got to look after my nephew."
"Yes, Sir," Ripley replied and offered Sandrine his arm to lead her out of the room.
"And Ripley?"
He turned his head. "Yes, Sir?"
Would you please skip the 'Sir'? I'm fine with Mr. Clayton," he said, smiling at the younger man.
"Yes, Sir, err … yes, Mr. Clayton. He smiled back at his superior.
Both men saluted and then Ripley eventually left the room with Sandrine in tow, followed by Jefferson.
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Later at the Arlington cemetery…
Lee stood in front of his parents' gravestones, his eyes still red and glassy from crying. He sensed the presence of a person standing next to him, but he didn't turn around; instead he stared blankly in the distance.
"I couldn't find you anywhere else, so I figured you would be here, Skip," Robert softly said as he bent down to lay a fresh bouquet of white and violet wood asters in front of the gravestones. He fingered the engraved names carefully as he reflectively spoke, "These were their favorite flowers. They loved the colors of them. I remember their garden was filled with them and it looked so beautiful in fall when they were blooming."
He rose and kept his nephew company. Both men stood there for a moment in absolute silence.
Out of the corner of his eye, Robert saw tears glistening down Lee's cheek. He wanted to take his nephew in his arms, just to hold him. Hesitantly he reached out with his left hand, but pulled back in the last moment, afraid of doing something wrong. Wasn't he the one who taught him over and over again to keep your emotions locked deep inside? Oh my God, what have I done? He thought and shook his head. He was so engrossed with his inner turmoil that he didn't realize that tears had formed in his own eyes. He sniffled automatically.
That sound caught Lee's attention and he turned around. His once so hard and cool uncle had tears in his eyes! He couldn't even remember if he had ever seen him so emotionally broken and vulnerable, not even at his parent's funeral. Lee swallowed hard and bit down his lower lip as he saw the tears now streaming down his uncle's face. What should I do now? Should I do or say something at all? He wondered and before he could think any further, he felt himself being pulled in the strong arms of his uncle. Instead of trying to struggle out, like he would usually do in an uncomfortable situation like this, he put his arms around his uncle and let out all the pain, fears and frustrations that had accumulated over the years. Lee's body trembled heavily as he cried.
Robert rocked his nephew gently in his arms. He was overwhelmed by his own emotions, but it felt good. He felt as if a burden of rocks he had been carried around for years had been now taken from his sore and exhausted shoulders. He needed to do something before he would fall back in old habits. First of all for Lee, he owed him that! He straightened his shoulders. Lee felt his own body stiffen and he already regretted his moment of weakness as he braced himself to meet his uncle's familiar hard and cool face, the face of a career military officer. But what he saw shocked him... His uncle's face was soft, the tears he had shed still visible, but there was nothing more left of his usually emotionless expression.
"Lee," he began softly, his voice choking with emotions, "I'm so terribly sorry for everything I've done and I've said to you in the past. I didn't realize how much you'd suffered over the losses and …" he paused, "and over my very bad attitude. I should have been the father figure for you when you needed me the most, but I was so damned focused on my own pain and self-pity that I blocked everything around me out, including you, because every time I saw you, I saw Matthew, your father and when I couldn't hold up the façade any longer, I didn't allow you to show any weakness," he finished. "I hate myself for that and I can't blame you for hating me even more now." He dropped his head.
"I don't hate you," Lee replied quietly, "Well, maybe just a little, but not that much. I hate myself. And I'm sorry, too, for all the trouble I caused. I … I was so damn bull-headed and a very big pain in the ass. "
"You still are, Skip, aren't you?" Robert lightly chuckled to lighten the tension. "Like father, like son," he said.
"Yeah, I guess so." Lee chuckled back in relief.
"Well, then," Robert said, "what do you think of a nice little vacation? Just the two of us and you can choose the place?"
Lee looked perplexed. "What about your job?"
"I'll take care of it. As soon as we are back at the Air Force base, I'm going to make the arrangements to request my transfer here to Washington. This time, permanently," he promised and waited excitedly for his nephew's response.
Lee blinked a few times before he opened his mouth. "Are you serious?"
"Yes, Skip. I am. You have my word and … " he paused and motioned to the gravestones …," two witnesses."
Touched by his uncle's words and gesture, Lee smiled for the first time in ages sincerely at him and this time; he got the same sincere smile back.
"I'm aboard," he said, "but only on one condition," he pointed out.
"Shoot!"
"Please stop calling me Skip, would you?"
"That's going to be a tough cookie, but I'm willingly working on it but only if you stop calling me 'Sir'. Its Uncle Bob from now on" Upon seeing Lee's lightly shocked face he said with a smile. "No panic, Uncle or just Bob is fine as well."
Both men burst out laughing heartily, and then Robert's face turned serious.
"Lee, if you want to know more about your … uh … parents'… uh … past, then let me know and I will tell you as much as I'm allowed to let you know."
Lee swallowed hard. "Thank you, but I don't think I can handle it right now. But I'll let you know when I'm ready, okay?"
"Fine by me. Shall we go back," he asked.
"Yeah."
After both men had spoken their silence goodbyes to their beloved ones, they walked peacefully side by side into a new period of their lives…
