DISCLAIMER: Once again, I do not own any characters, blah blah blah. Thetitle of this chaper is a songcalled "Love On the Rocks" by Neil Diamond. I thought this would be a one-shot, but it's turning out to be a more-than-one-shot. Hope you likes.
Love on the Rocks
"Come home with me, Emma."
Sean had both of my hands in his own, both of us leaning over the high cocktail table at Gauge, the club where we…ran into each other? Yeah, that's what happened, but it felt much more cosmic than just a run-in.
I looked in to Sean's blue eyes; I never knew how much I missed those eyes looking at me until that night, when I removed the "Handsome Stranger's" sunglasses and confirmed what my heart already knew: Sean Cameron had found me at a dance club in Vancouver after more than 3 years of no communication. Now here he was, on the other side of Table 15, kissing my palms and…asking me to go home with him.
"Sean," I laughed lightly, "I'm here with Manny and a bunch of my dorm mates. I can't just leave them here." Sean grasped my hands tighter.
"Please Em," he pleaded, "I'm not trying to…I'm just…I just want to talk, Emma. I want to get out of this loud-ass club and catch up on the years that I haven't seen you."
Maybe it was the half hour of non-stop shot-taking, maybe it was the fact that my heart missed Sean so bad that it actually overruled my head, or maybe it was his eyes misting over with tears again. Whatever it was, it made me grab my cell phone out of my purse and text Manny.
"'I am leaving'" I typed. I looked over at the DJ booth where Chris had escorted Manny at some point. I saw her pull her cell phone from her cleavage (EW!) and read my message.
"'?'" she texted back.
"'Look our table'" I sent. I pointed at the booth so Sean would look over there. He smirked a little and waved at Manny. She frowned but waved back.
"'Going home wit a stranger?'"
I rolled my eyes and sent her a message back.
"'We know him.'"
"'Name?'"
"'Sean Cameron.'" I looked up at Manny in the booth and saw her eyes widen as big as disco balls.
"'OMG! Call me laterz! Be safe!'"
"'I will. Hugz.'" I flipped my phone shut and looked up at Sean, who was staring at me expectantly.
"Ready to go?" he asked, reaching for my hand.
"Yeah," I said breathlessly. H led me through the crowd of clubbers and out the big door on to the street. He turned and looked at me, a smile on his face. I smiled back shyly. Even though I'd known Sean for years, it was still a little weird and butterfly-inducing to be with him after more than 3 years without ever talking to him.
Sean walked up to a shiny motorcycle and unhooked a helmet from the handle bars.
"Put this on your noggin," he said. I took the helmet from him.
"Where's yours, Biker Boy?" I asked as I clipped the massive thing under my chin. Sean dug a pair of riding goggles out of some saddle bag-looking thing.
"I typically don't have company on my bike, so I leave the extra at home." He turned around to face me and laughed abruptly. I mock frowned.
"You haven't seen me in years and now you're laughing at me? THAT'S polite." I stuck out my bottom lip and crossed my arms. Sean stopped laughing and a serious look took over his face. He reached up and ran his right thumb over my boo-boo lip. The hungry way he was looking at me was exciting and unsettling at the same time. I was unable to move from my spot on the curb; his touch was sending pin pricks of heat and burning cold through my body.
Suddenly, Sean's arm fell back to his side. I snapped out of my daze and smiled nervously. Sean's eyes were burning with…I physically shivered at the thought.
"Hop on, pretty lady," Sean said, gesturing to his bike. Just then, I remembered my attire; if I sat on this motorcycle, I'd flash downtown Vancouver from here to Sean's place, wherever that was.
"Uh, Sean," I said, "I'm sort of…in a miniskirt." Sean furrowed his eyebrows and looked down at my clothes.
"Oh," he said, "Well…um, not to be a pervert, but uh…are you wearing…anything…" he trailed off, blushing. I could feel the heat rising to my own face. It occurred to me that, as long as Sean and I had been together, we'd never come remotely close to being naked. Except for that one time during my "Clean the Ravine" campaign (ugh…the ravine…) we'd never even really made out very heavily. At least Sean had the decency to be embarrassed about our current predicament.
"Well yeah," I answered, "But…I'm wearing a thong, Sean. If it's not one end, it's the other." At the word "thong", Sean threw his head back and closed his eyes tightly. I could only imagine what he was thinking.
"Ok," Sean breathed, "Um…ok, I have an idea." He tugged his shirt over his head and handed it to me. This left his entire upper body exposed. I'll admit it right now: I stared. His chest was so smooth and his skin looked so soft; it beckoned to my hand, just wanting me to run my fingers across his heavenly pectorals… I balled up my hands in to fists, clutching Sean's shirt.
"What should I do with this?" I asked stupidly. Sean smirked at me. Damn that cute mouth, I swore to myself.
"You…put it on?"
OH. Duh. I untied the shrug that Manny had lent me and shimmied it off, handing it to Sean. I was left in the red tube top and 4 inches of denim that was serving as a skirt. I didn't dare look to see if Sean was watching. I pulled his grey Flaming Lips shirt over the helmet and slipped my arms in. It fell past my knees. Smart boy.
"Now," Sean turned and threw a leg over his bike and settled into the seat, "tuck your purse and that black thingy into the pack on the back of the seat and hop on behind me." I did as I was told. Sitting behind Sean, I still felt a little "exposed", so I scooted up close to his back. I didn't know what to do with my arms, so I just them hang at my sides as Sean cranked up the engine. He turned to look at me.
"Better hold on," he said. He pulled away from the curb slowly. I threw my arms around his waist; what can I say? I am a bit of a wuss. I felt him put a hand on my arm and squeeze, reassuring me.
It was about a twenty minute ride from the club to Sean's flat, which was above a shop of some sort just outside of the downtown area. He pulled his motorcycle into a dark alley. I must've tensed up in apprehension because he turned his head back a little to see my face.
"It's ok, Em," he said over the loud engine, "I have indoor parking." He pulled up next to a small garage door and punched a code into a key pad on the door frame. The door rose up and Sean slowly drove inside. Hanging up on every wall and lying all over the floor were parts to either a car or motorcycle. There was barely room enough to park the bike.
Sean turned off the engine and kicked the kick-stand down with his heal. I scooted back on the seat to give him room to get off the motorcycle. He swung his right leg over and held out his hands to help me down. I grabbed them and wiggled my way off the seat, trying hard not to be too indecent. Sean took my purse and shrug out of the seat pack and handed them to me.
"C'mon," he gestured towards a doorway, "Let's have some tea or juice." Tea or juice? Bizarre offering, I thought, but I'd rather have one of those than more alcohol. I followed him through the doorway which led to a narrow, carpeted staircase. Sean smacked the wall garage door button and locked the door behind us. Taking my hand, he led me up the stairs and into an apartment kitchen. It was small, but then again, I didn't even HAVE a kitchen in the dorm. Sean pulled out a 50's style metal and vinyl chair and I sat down. He walked over to the fridge and stuck his head in.
"We've got peach or green tea," he listed, "or cran-apple juice, apple-apple juice, lemonade iced tea –"
"Is there an entire beverage isle in there?" I laughed. I saw Sean's shoulders shaking in laughter.
"Almost," he chucked, "There's also chocolate milk. Not genetically modified, of course." I rolled my eyes.
"Funny boy," I said dryly, "Can I have some lemonade-iced tea with ice, please?"
"Coming right up," Sean said. He pulled a pitcher out and shut the fridge door. While he poured me a beverage, I looked around the room. It was sparsely decorated, but whose kitchen wasn't? There was a drying rack on the counter next to the sink, which prompted me to look for a dishwasher. There wasn't one. Weird.
I looked back over at the fridge and noticed some pictures stuck on the front with magnets that looked like miniature tools. I got up and walked over to take a better look.
The pictures were of a baby. A little girl with curly brown hair, darker than Sean's, and blue eyes. Oh my God, I thought. Sean has a baby, Sean has a baby…
"Who's this?" I asked, my throat constricting. He looked at me and smiled.
"Isn't she the cutest?" he asked, turning back to the drinks, "Her name is Miley."
She was adorable, I had to admit. In one photo, she smiled big at the camera with all four of her little baby teeth; two on top and two on the bottom. Her curly hair was a mess around her face, and it looked like she had grape jelly smeared on her cheeks. But I was still in awe at the prospect of Sean being a father.
"Here you go, Em," Sean said, holding out a glass to me. I took it from him and started back to the table.
"Let's have a tour, shall we?" he asked in a British accent. I smiled weakly and followed him out of the kitchen, the image of the cute little girl on the fridge who had to be Sean's daughter burning in my head.
I don't know why it surprised me. I mean, it had been YEARS since I'd even talked to Sean. So much had happened to me during those years, why did I think that Sean had stayed the same? And so what if he did have a baby? I love babies. I could handle him having a baby.
WHY would I need to be able to handle Sean having a baby, anyway! What am I thinking, I scolded myself, I'm not even WITH Sean that way…yet.
YET! Slow down, turbo!
"This is the living room," Sean said, knocking me out of my private reverie. I looked around. We had obviously come in the back way, because there was a thick front door on the wall opposite where we were standing, with a peep hole and a chain lock as well. On the wall to my right there was a black leather couch with deep red throw pillows in each corner; a tall black floor lamp beside one arm, and a chrome and black wood end table beside the other arm. Next to the front door was a leather overstuffed chair with a matching ottoman. On the wall opposite the couch was a wide chrome and black wood entertainment center that held the TV, DVD player, stereo and various videogame systems. Some shelves held knick knacks, like model cars and motorcycles, and other shelves held pictures in silver frames. It looked like most of the pictures were of Sean and Miley, but some were of Tracker and some chick, some were of his mom and others were of Sean leaning against an old remodeled classic car. Above the entertainment center hung two black and white electric guitars. In the middle of the hardwood floor lay a large, zebra print area rug and on top of that, a glass and chrome rectangular coffee table. It was a very modern, very manly looking room.
"What do you think?" Sean asked with a grin.
"I think it's great, actually," I said, impressed, "It's very….you." I smiled up at him.
"Thanks," he said, walking to his left, "There's a bit more left." He led me through a doorway into a hall. In front of us was a modest bathroom with similar décor to the living room. Down the right end of the hall was a room that held a twin sized bed with a khaki-colored bed set and a computer desk. It was a small-ish room, so there was only room for those two things, and a play pen. Oh boy, I thought, I'd almost forgotten about the baby.
On the other end of the hall was the master bedroom, where Sean and I stepped in. Sean had a full-sized bed with a black bedspread, crimson pillowcases and a crimson, straight bed skirt. The bed was angled in the corner of the room, facing the doorway. Beside the bed, on the right, was a black nightstand with a silver lamp and an alarm clock. On the left side was Sean's dresser, also black with silver knobs. On top of the dresser he had a jar of change, some cologne, and a silver picture frame. I walked in further and noticed a walk-in closet, which wasn't messy at all. Also bizarre, I thought. I stood in front of the dresser.
"Your place is so nice, Sean, I'm impressed," I said. Sean smiled humbly.
"I got sick of living like a pig," he said, "So I went out and got furniture and bedding and I tried to make it look like something. I was sleeping on a mattress on the floor for a long time." I laughed, turning around to look at his dresser. I picked up the bottle of cologne and smelled it. Mmmm, I thought, I remember this scent.
"Smell familiar?" Sean asked. I blushed.
"Maybe a little," I replied. I set the cologne back down and noticed the picture in the frame.
"Wow," I said, picking the frame up and turning to face Sean, "That's an old picture. I can't believe you have it out." It was a picture of me and him, his arm around my shoulders, sitting on the front steps of Degrassi Community School, circa grade 9. He had his stupid black beanie hat on under his grey sweatshirt hood, and I still had braces and one-length hair. I laughed.
"I look like such a dork," I said. Sean walked up and took the picture out of my hands gently.
"It's my favorite picture of us. I'm actually smiling in it," he said, setting it back down on the dresser. I noticed a pink baby doll lying on the floor near the closet.
"Playing with dolls again, Sean?" I asked, pointing at the doll. He walked over and picked it up, smirking.
"Miley's," he replied, "She thinks she owns the place." He walked out of the bedroom and I followed. He threw the doll in a basket by the front door.
"Who's got custody of her?" I asked, sitting down on the overstuffed chair. Sean sat on the ottoman, facing me.
"Her mom," he said, leaning forward to take my hand.
"What's it like to be a daddy?" I asked. Sean gave me a puzzled look.
"Hell, I dunno," he said, "Ask Tracker." I stared at Sean.
WOW am I an idiot.
