April 1982
When I opened my eyes, it was still dark. Rolling over, I sat up and shuffled my legs out from under the blankets. Stretching with a yawn, I decided to go downstairs and grab a glass of water.
Pausing at the bottom of the stairs, I noticed the light on in the lounge. Entering the room, I glanced at the recliner. No Stan. It didn't even look like he'd slept there at all tonight.
But I knew where he'd be. It hadn't taken me long to realise that Stan spent most of his nights trying to figure out that portal in the basement.
Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I ambled into the old workshop. Slipping down through the concealed passage and stairs, I headed into the elevator.
Travelling downwards, I shivered.
"Probably should have stopped and put pants on." I muttered, glancing down at my bare legs sticking out from under the baggy sweater.
Leaving the elevator, I made my way to the control room. A loud, familiar snoring greeted me. I smiled slightly as I saw Stan fast asleep and slumped over at the workbench. Peering over his shoulder, I could see Ford's journal open under his head. The workbench was littered with paper covered in Stan's untidy scrawl... I picked one up and tried to read it in the dim light. It looked like pretty advanced stuff.
Stan snorted and shifted in his sleep. Dropping the piece of paper, I crouched down and gently shook Stan's arm.
"Stan? Come on big guy. You can't sleep down here." I said softly as Stan jolted awake.
"Eh? What? Carla?" he mumbled, raising a hand to rub along his jaw.
"You fell asleep in the basement. Come on." I stood and tugged his arm. Stan got to his feet groggily.
"I- I should keep working..." He yawned as we walked back to the elevator.
"Don't be ridiculous. The portal isn't going anywhere. Plus, you need a proper night's sleep." I said firmly as we emerged at the stairs. Stan allowed me to lead him back up the stairs.
"But I was sleeping Carla..." Stan pointed out as we entered the lounge.
"In a cold, damp sub-basement. You need to sleep in a bed." I replied.
"Nah, the recliner is fine." Stan said complacently. I shook my head, frustrated by his lack of self-care.
"I don't think sleeping on that thing is any good for you Stan." I chided.
"Where else am I going to sleep?" Stan asked bluntly.
"With me." I answered, my mouth operating with no control.
A shocked silence spread through the room. Stan stared at me, dumbstruck. My mouth dropped and my eyes widened as my brain caught up to it.
"I meant in your bed! I'll take the recliner. I'm smaller than you, I'll fit better." I babbled desperately, hoping that maybe Stan would just ignore what I'd said.
Stan looked at me, taking in my appearance for the first time that night. I raised a hand to my sleep-mussed hair self-consciously. I was well aware of how I must look... Hair falling out of the bun I'd dragged my hair into before bed, the baggy sweater that only reached mid-thigh, bare legs with bunched up fluffy socks around my ankles... Really should've put pants on, I thought.
The silence thickened.
Jolting forward, I made a move toward the recliner.
"Go upstairs Stan. You still have time to get a decent sleep." I muttered, pulling the blanket from his unresisting hands. As I flicked the blanket out, I heard Stan shift his weight behind me.
His arms reached around me and grabbed the blanket, pulling it from my hands and tossing it back onto the recliner. I froze, butterflies fluttering in my stomach as his arms wrapped around my waist.
"Only if you come with me." He murmured close to my ear.
"Stan..." I whispered, heart thumping erratically. Stan stepped closer until I could feel him against my back.
"All that time apart, now we're back together... tell me you don't want this too." Stan nuzzled my neck softly. My mind went blank. I did want this. So much. But after so long...
Throwing caution to the wind, I turned and kissed him hard. As my hands slid into his hair, Stan tightened his grip around my waist in response. Stan had lost none of his ability to make my weak-kneed from a simple kiss. I felt the desire to melt against him, my mind going numb and stars bursting behind my closed eyes.
Lifting me as easily as he had all those years ago, Stan grinned against my mouth. I wrapped my legs around his hips and broke away from our kiss.
"Upstairs now." I ordered, a smile spreading over my face. Stan gave me a rakish grin and my stomach flipped. Still carrying me, Stan headed up the stairs. I giggled, giddy with excitement.
"Guess you're not that out of shape." I smiled. Stan huffed a laugh.
"You still weigh next to nothing." He replied.
When we stopped on the landing, I could feel how heavily Stan was breathing and realised it had been an effort to carry me despite all his put on bravado. Pecking his lips chastely, I slid out of his arms and took a hold of his hand. Walking backwards, I smiled shyly as we stepped through to the bedroom.
I flicked the light on and Stan stopped before tugging me back to him.
"You know... It's been a few years... I don't look the same anymore..." he said nervously. I resisted the urge to laugh and instead, I tilted my head to look him in the eyes.
"So? We're not eighteen anymore. I don't care that you've changed." I patted his stomach lightly. "Besides, now there's more of you too love." I teased.
Stan stared at me, seemingly astounded by my casualness. I giggled and quickly pulled my sweater off, leaving me standing in front of Stan wearing just a camisole and underwear. Reaching out, I took a hold of Stan's hand and tugged it. Stan took the hint and kicked the door shut before facing me again. I smiled nervously, catching my lip between my teeth.
Without another word spoken between us, we tumbled back towards the bed, sleep the last thing on our mind.
X
I woke with a start as I felt a weight slide off of me. Glancing around the room with half-open eyes, I spotted the clothes strewn over the floor. The events of last night came back in a flash. I clutched the blankets to myself, sitting up with a lazy grin. There was a loud snort from beside me. I turned and saw Stan still asleep on his front.
Gritting my teeth, I suppressed the urge to giggle in happiness. You're not eighteen anymore Carla, I reprimanded myself.
Stan shifted slightly and the early morning light highlighted a strange mark on his right shoulder blade. Leaning down, I gently laid a finger tip against the mark. It was a scar of some sort, pink and shiny, the skin still healing. It seemed to be a symbol... what of, I had no idea.
"What is that?" I breathed, trailing my fingertip along it softly.
"I got it when I fought with Ford." Stan muttered into the pillow.
I pulled my hand back with a start.
"I didn't mean to wake you." I said apologetically. Stan responded with a yawn.
"Ah it's ok. Best wakeup call I've had in years." He said happily.
"So how'd it happened?" I asked, tracing my finger over the scar.
"Ford pushed me back against a hot panel and it burnt through my jacket."
"God Stan, that's awful." I leaned down and planted a kiss against the burn mark. Stan huffed a quiet laugh and rolled over. Shuffling as far over as I could, I watched as Stan pushed himself into a sitting position. Stan smiled softly at me.
"Best way to wake up in the whole world." He repeated. I smiled, feeling my cheeks flush. Leaning over, Stan dropped a quick kiss on my shoulder.
"I've missed this." He murmured. I draped my arm over his shoulders and gently played with his hair.
"Hmm? Me in particular or just having a warm body next to you?" I asked lightly.
"Both. You. All of it." Stan said resting his head against me. A soft chuckle escaped him. "Do you remember that time under the boardwalk?"
I burst out laughing.
"Oh god yes! I got that huge bruise from the rocks." I shook my head. "What were we thinking? It was so uncomfortable!"
Stan laughed louder and sat back up.
"I don't think we were thinkin'. At least not with our brains." He winked. Giving his shoulder a playful shove, I smiled happily.
"We were young and dumb." I said, leaning back against the headboard.
"And in love." Stan added.
"Yeah," I glanced over at him, "stupidly and hopelessly in love."
Stan gave me a small smile. We fell into silence, that particular conversation yet to be had.
Reaching out, I took a stand of his hair and softly tugged.
"So can we talk about the mullet now?" I teased, glad to change the subject. Stan glanced down at the blanket awkwardly.
"Heh, yeah... I guess it's pretty bad." He smiled.
Tucking my knees under me, I got up and climbed onto Stan's lap. Seeming rather taken back, Stan automatically grabbed my hips. The blankets pooled around my waist, causing me to shiver slightly in the cool air. Stan's eyes dropped to stare at my naked body before quickly looking at me in the eyes again. Pretending I hadn't seen his opening ogling of me, I slid my fingers into the back of his hair.
"Pretty bad? Stan. I think I could braid this." I giggled. Stan rolled his eyes before leaning forward and kissing the tip of my nose. I scrunched my nose up and he laughed.
"Do you want me to cut it for you? I offered, twirling a strand of the brown curls around my finger.
"I guess so. But you have to promise I'm not gonna lose an ear." Stan grinned as he leaned back.
"Hey!" I protested, swatting his chest lightly. "I know how to cut hair mister."
"Yeah yeah," Stan caught my hand in his, "tonight sound ok?" he asked. I smiled and nodded.
"Good." Stan closed his eyes again. "So, not a fan of the mullet then?" he asked.
"No one is a fan of the mullet Stan." I replied, leaning forward to tuck my head against his neck. Stan sighed contentedly and wrapped his arms around me.
"I suppose you're right," he muttered, "personal care just kinda got away from me over the last few years."
I smiled and patted his stomach. Stan chuckled.
"Not quite the muscle I used to have."
"No, but I bet it's comfier to lie on now." I said playfully. Stan just laughed and stroked a hand lazily up and down my back. Shuffling further back, I bent over and rested my head on his stomach.
"What the hel-" Stan opened his eyes and stared down at me. I waved a hand impatiently, still buoyed by a childish excitement.
"Shhh, shh. Can you hear that?" I asked with wide eyes. "I think I can hear the ocean!"
"Holy Moses Carla." Stan groaned. "What is wrong with you?"
"Me?" I sat up, feigning hurt. "How could you say something so mean?" I gasped theatrically and slumped forward, sprawling out over Stan's chest. "My poor heart... I think I'm dying!" I exclaimed.
Stan laughed as I let my tongue fall out of my mouth.
"Come on... Get off me." He said jovially, jostling my arm.
"Can't hear you, I'm dead." I protested. Stan chuckled and resumed his stroking of my back.
After a few moments, I tucked my arms into his sides and nuzzled into him.
"I've missed you so much... and to be this close to you again after how things ended between us..." I trailed off.
"Yeah, I know." Stan finished. "Feels like we're young again."
"Exactly." I sighed.
The morning light began to spill through the curtains.
"Guess we should get up." Stan murmured.
"Or we could not and stay in bed all day. Together." I suggested before sliding off of Stan reluctantly.
"I can't, not matter how good that sounds." Stan got up, stretching briefly. "I gotta get this place in shape."
Curling up up onto my side, I watched as Stan collected our clothes from the floor.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Remember the gift shop idea?" Stan replied. "I wanna make this place a proper tourist trap. Less of a weird nerd hut ya'know?"
"Can I suggest changing the name then?" I pulled my sweater back on. "Cause the 'Murder Hut' just doesn't scream tourist attraction."
"You reckon?" Stan paused and looked at me.
"Really Stan. It needs to be something that makes people curious... not vaguely threatened." I stretched and got out of the bed.
"Got any ideas?" Stan asked.
"I'll get back to you on that one." I said as I walked toward the door. Stan followed close behind.
Walking into the kitchen, Stan made a beeline for the coffee machine. Smiling to myself, I opened the fridge and examined the shelves. It seemed pretty empty. Bending down, I checked the lower shelves.
"Whatcha looking for hotstuff?" Stan asked from behind me, patting my ass playfully.
"Food." I replied standing up. "You know, stuff to consume to gain energy from?" I quipped with a snarky smile as I faced Stan. He slid his arms around me and rested his chin on my head.
"Yeah... I guess there's not a lot left." He sighed. "I was not prepared for a house guest."
I shrugged and placed my arms around him.
"Wanna go to that diner in town then?" I asked as Stan closed the fridge door.
"I don't have a lot of money..." Stan said in an embarrassed voice. I leaned back and placed a hand on his cheek.
"How have you been surviving Stan?" I asked, concerned.
"You want the truth?" Stan tried to laugh it off.
My heart sank a little. Things really had gotten bad for him I realised. Stan's face got serious when he saw I was still waiting for an answer.
"Look, there's been times where I've gone without a meal or two." Stan said quietly. "Or three... or maybe a couple of days..."
"Stan..." I murmured. "I'll pay for breakfast."
Stan blinked at me.
"I can't let you do that..." He protested weakly. I moved my hand over his mouth. My stubborn Stanley, I thought. Always too proud to accept help. Well, he didn't have a choice now. I could be just as stubborn as him.
"I'm not going to take no for an answer." I said firmly. "Let's get dressed and then we can go eat."
Stan tilted my chin back with his hand and gave me a sweet smile.
"You're the best McCorkle." He said softly.
I pecked him on the lips and slid out of his arms.
"Tell me something I don't know Pines." I winked as I walked out of the kitchen. "Oh and don't think I didn't hear that hotstuff remark. You'll pay for that later." I said, popping my head back around the door frame. Stanley laughed and rubbed the back of his neck.
"Figured it might be a little soon for that." He admitted gruffly. I grinned.
"Give it another couple of nights. Then, if you can remember your own name... we'll talk nicknames." I winked suggestively and ran for the stairs.
A loud guffaw of laughter echoed from the kitchen and the sound of pounding feet followed as Stan chased me.
