Henderson woke with a start, cold sweat drenching her and the sheets. She looked around wildly, trying to remember where she was. She turned to her right and saw her husband, Mike Pritchard, sleeping peacefully. Her breathing slowly returned to normal as she realized she was at her home in Berkeley, California with her husband and three kids. But... her dream had been so real, so vivid... She had dreamed about a man with black, spiky hair and crystal blue eyes. He was wearing ragged clothing and had a cigarette poking out of the corner of his mouth and he was smirking faintly. But in her dream, she hadn't been watching this boy, she was reliving a memory. One of a younger version of her. A version of her with her bleached blonde hair covered in red, pink, and black dyed streaks and her bangs falling into her brown eyes. She was, also, dressed in ragged clothing. The two were laughing and running around, obviously in young love. The memory had been so real, it had felt like she was back with him.

Henderson shook her head and shakily scrambled out of bed and looked at the clock, 8:37AM. Well, it's not too early, maybe I could drive by there... She bit her lip and wrote a quick note to Mike saying she was running a quick errand and that she loved him before jumping in the shower and washing her hair. She rushed through her shower, brushed her teeth as she was pulling on a pair of jeans and a tight black tee shirt and Converse and ran out to her car. She wouldn't see him. No, he couldn't still be there, could he? It had been sixteen years since they'd seen eachother... would she remember him? Quit it, Henderson! You're not going to talk to him! You're just going to... see him, that's all. She told herself.

Henderson was surprised at how quickly she came upon the Streets of Shame. She parked her car near the 7-Eleven where she had spent so much time. She smiled and walked inside and up to the counter.

"Hiya, can I have a pack of Marlboro Reds please?" She asked. Before, when she was living on the Streets, she'd've stolen them and no one would've said anything. The girl behind the counter didn't look any older than eighteen. Henderson took in her appearance and smiled nostalgically at how she was when she was that age.

"Here you go," she sighed, handing her a lighter and her cigarettes.

"Thanks, keep the change," Henderson smiled, handing her a $10. The girl's eyebrow rose but took the money without complaining, every little bit counted when you were on the Streets. Henderson smiled as she walked out of the gas station, cigarette in between her lips as she lit up. Her smile grew as she inhaled the smoke for the first time in sixteen years. Mm I miss this. She looked around and kept her head held high, the generation of people here were too young to remember who she was, she wasn't worried about people staring open mouthed at her as she passed, though, there were a few to whom she nodded and waved at.

"I fucking told you, pay me today or you're cut off, find someone else to fucking buy from!" Henderson froze as she heard a voice she knew all too well. A voice that continuously haunted her dreams. She spun around, keeping herself somewhat hidden (though doing a poor job, part of her wanted him to see her). She was standing twenty feet away from a tall, thin man with shaggy, shoulder length black hair, blue eyes, and week old scruff. He was in the clothes she remembered, torn jeans and a torn tee shirt with a flannel over top of it. Henderson's heart went out of sync as she stared at him. Memories came flooding back, happy ones, sad ones, painful ones, fun ones, everything and anything to do with him. The younger girl in her sprang to the surface and wanted to leap out and cling to him, telling him how much she missed him. Suddenly, the ring on her left hand felt a bit heavier.

While she was lost in thought, he had looked up after telling off some kid. His jaw dropped as he stared at her, not daring to believe his eyes. Could it possibly be...? Was it really... her? Could she be back? Why would she be? She had no reason on the Streets anymore. Jimmy stared at her, taking in her appearance. She was just as he remembered her, though older. Her face didn't look it, none of her did, but the way she carried herself and dressed was different. Thin, petite, long bleached blonde hair in waves past her shoulders with bangs just above her big, curious brown eyes, her full rosy lips... it took all he had to stand there and look at her. "I have to be dreaming," he murmured. He pinched himself and winced, he was awake. He had to do something. What if she just walked away and he never saw her again? It pained him to even think of that.

"Whatsername?" He breathed. He meant for it to be loud and strong but... he couldn't make his voice work properly. Her head snapped up and a smile broke out on her face.

"Jimmy," she said, equally as quiet as him. Her throat was tightening making it impossible for her to talk without tears spilling out of her eyes.

Without thinking what she was doing, Henderson ran over to Jimmy and threw her arms around him. His response was with equal enthusiasm as he held her tightly in his arms, never wanting to let her go. Henderson hugged him so close, there wasn't an inch of space in between the two bodies. "Jimmy," she whispered again, her face buried into his neck.

"Whatsername," he smiled, blinking back the tears that were threatening to escape his eyes. Her heart sped up tremendously as he spoke her name in the same husky voice he'd always had. Reluctantly, slowly, he released her and held her at arms length. "Wh-what are you doing here?" He asked, looking her over. "Not that I mind or anything, I was just curious because it's been sixteen years and-," she pressed her finger to his lips, playfully smiling.

"I'm not sure why I'm here actually, I.. er...," she looked away from his face as the color rose in her cheeks. "You were actually in my dream last night..," she mumbled, feeling silly.

"I.. I was?" Jimmy stammered. Henderson nodded and bit her lip, returning her gaze to his face once more."You... you were in mine too..." he whispered, looking into her eyes. Something flickered in Henderson's eyes that Jimmy registered as pain, confusion, love, and want. He knew her so well, though sixteen years had passed he still knew her every move. "We... it was when we were up at Tight Wad, when we had that huge rain, you remember?" She merely nodded, her eyes filled with tears and her throat to constricted to speak. "It was when the top of Tight Wad flooded and we went swimming," he forced a strained laugh.

"I remember," she managed to choke out.

"I miss you, Henderson," he whispered, so softly he wasn't positive she'd heard him at all.

"I miss you too, Jimmy," she whispered back, tentatively looking up into his eyes. A flicker of hope flashed across them.

"D-did you ever marry er... what's-his-face...," he tried to remember the guys name that had stolen her away from him.

"Mike," she whispered.

"Right, Mike..."

"Er... yeah, I did... we have three kids. Estelle, Alex, and," her voice dropped barely above a whisper. "James." Jimmy's eyes widened to the size of golfballs when she'd said the name of her third child.

"Y-you named him... James?" He struggled for the words. She nodded.

"I...," she ran her fingers nervously through her hair, something she had always done when she was stressed and tried to avoid making a point, but in the end she always spoke what was on her mind. Jimmy waited patiently for her nervousness to pass. "Jimmy not a day goes by where I don't wonder how different my life would've been if I hadn't left. How our children would look," she didn't have the heart to tell him right now that Estelle was his, not Mike's. "Not a day goes by where I don't wish I was still here. Not a day goes by where I don't think about the memories we share. And, for the past month you have haunted my dreams every night. Maybe I should have come here sooner. I still have the notes, letters, pictures, poems you sent me when I had left, when you thought I was coming back," the tears were pouring freely out of her eyes now. "Not a day goes by where I don't love you," she whispered. Jimmy couldn't say anything, he just pulled her into his arms and held her, tears streaming down his face as well. She had said everything he had wanted to hear, everything that had kept him alive and moving for sixteen years, the hope that she would come back. Of course he still loved her. No one had ever come close to her. He'd dated after she left but... he gave up, he couldn't be with anyone without picturing her.

Henderson clung to Jimmy's shoulders as he supported her. Her wedding ring had been moved into her pocket while she was talking and she felt completely at home in Jimmy's arms. She had said everything that had been bottling up inside her for sixteen years. She probably shouldn't've said anything but when Jimmy tilted her head up, his face streaked with flowing tears, and gently pressed his lips to hers, everything felt right. Everything fell into place. The sixteen years seemed to dissolve and it was how she remembered before she'd left. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he wrapped his around her waist, pulling her closer and deepening the kiss. Henderson poured everything she had bottled up inside out, causing a soft moan to escape his lips as he picked her up and carried her to his house. They had done this so many times he knew the way with his eyes closed.

He kicked down the door and rushed upstairs, laying her on the bed without breaking the kiss, without loosing his hold on her. Henderson kept pulling him closer, even though they were already as close as they could get, her heart needing to be closer to his. She needed him. She needed him it pained her. Jimmy tried to take things slow, but Henderson tore off both of their clothes and pressed her hips up into him. He couldn't resist. He slid himself into her and Henderson wrapped her arms and legs around him tightly. The feeling of him inside her again was a thought as good as the act itself. Jimmy moved in her hard and rough, kissing her with each stroke. Making her pleasure last as he held off. The first time was the heat of the need and want between them. The second time... the second time was slower, more delicate. They made love, they didn't fuck. Jimmy made sure Henderson was in as much pleasure possible throughout every second, as did she to him. The two made love for almost an hour before they slumped against the sheets, too exhausted to move or speak, their mouths so dry from breathing and gasping.

Jimmy pulled Henderson into his arms, holding her closely as both of their chests rose and fell rapidly. Henderson would her arms around him out of instinct, suddenly amazed at how perfect their bodies fit together. Like they were made for eachother.

"I love you," he whispered, pushing a sweaty piece of hair behind her ear.

"I love you, too," she whispered back, overwhelmed by the truth in those words as she looked up into his eyes. He leaned down and kissed her softly before his hand slowly slid around her body. The slightest touch caused her to gasp and they made love for another hour before falling into an exhausted and well deserved sleep, together again.