A/N: Hey, guys… Long time no see. I'm not gonna waste a bunch of time with a rambling author's note. Just know I appreciate all of your support immensely, and no… This story is not dead ;) It is very much alive, and will continue to be.
Really hoped to have posted this by Halloween, but ah well—think of it as a late treat :)
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I had yet to come to terms with the overpowering smells of the typical aromatics that comprised parts of Beau's dinners—the heavy smell of oil, the burning stench of onion, the sour tang of garlic. Despite the many times I'd sautéed these same ingredients together in a pan, time and time again they remained as obstinately repugnant to me as ever.
The only thing that could possibly be worse than the smell of cooking vegetables was that of cooking meat. I eyed the fleshy bits resting on the plate beside the stove contemptuously as I added the mushrooms to the pan and stirred.
The object of my cooking had become such a controversial topic in the home that Jess and Archie had taken to completely leaving the premises whenever I pulled out a frying pan. That particular detail was fine with me, however, as it left the entire estate to mine and Beau's disposal for at least an hour.
Just now, I heard his socked feet pad across the kitchen, and then felt his arms wrap around my waist from behind. He kissed my temple, and then rested his chin on my shoulder, inhaling through his nose deeply.
"Smells good."
"Does it?" I fought to keep my expression neutral, but couldn't quite veil the contempt.
"Anything you cook always smells and tastes amazing."
I smiled softly as I rolled the wooden spoon amidst the steadily shrinking mushrooms, and then reached for the plate holding the chicken breasts.
"Food Network," we said together then, and laughed. It had become something of a running joke between us.
I'd already seasoned the meat, and so only needed to add them to the pan. There was a pronounced sizzle as the flesh came into contact with the hot metal, and the inescapable pong of burning flesh reached my nostrils.
Beau must have seen the look of total disgust on my face and chuckled. "Here," he said, reaching for the tongs, "Let me."
I tightened my grip around the handle, refusing to give up my position at the stove. "I know what I'm doing," I assured him.
Again, he attempted to hip bump me out of the way, but only succeeded in knocking himself sideways a step or two. "That might be true," he conceded, "But you are most definitely not enjoying yourself over there."
"Who says?" I challenged, assuming an expression of faux outrage. "I thoroughly enjoying cooking dinner for my husband."
"Thoroughly?"
"Thoroughly."
Our gazes didn't waver from each other's for longer than half a minute, and I was suddenly acutely aware of the exceptionally alluring scent coming off Beau's skin.
Something changed in the color of his irises, the blue darkening just slightly, and his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard.
A warm, electric feeling originated from where his arm still rested around my waist, steadily extending to circuit over the entire surface of my skin, and detonating deep within my abdomen, a palpable force.
"Where are Arch and Jess?" Beau asked then, his voice quiet and intense, in that familiar way.
"Hunting," I told him, which I wasn't exactly sure about, but I knew they'd be out of the house for at least another hour.
Beau's gaze shifted between the pan on the stove and my face. He drew a breath. "You know, I'm not really that hungry yet—"
Before he could complete voicing his suggestion, I'd flipped the breasts, covered the pan, and turned down the heat.
I coiled my arms around his neck, pulling his chest flush with mine and touched my lips to his, just barely. "We have twenty minutes," I breathed.
Beau combed his fingers through my hair with one hand, the other tracing a white-hot line down my back and over the curve of my hips. "Not much to work with," he murmured breathlessly as I deftly undid the buttons on his flannel shirt and pushed it over his shoulders to reveal the plain t-shirt underneath.
"Maybe not for you," I purred, and slid my hands underneath his shirt to feel the hot, pulsing muscles of his abdomen and chest.
A moment later, I'd freed him of the t-shirt as well, and then steadied my hands against his bare shoulders, lifting myself so I could wrap my legs around his waist. I locked my mouth against his and dragged my fingers through his thick, fragrant hair, tracing his bottom lip with my tongue and inhaling his perfume greedily.
"Now, please," I whispered into his ear, "Get me out of this kitchen so I don't have to smell that chicken anymore."
"You don't have to ask me twice."
It took far longer than I would have liked, ascending to the second level of the house at Beau's pace, but we finally made it to the master bedroom and toppled onto the king sized mattress at the far end of the suite.
We'd been married for almost three and a half months, and our passions were still stoked with the flames of discovery, invigoration and desire. But it was difficult to indulge these longings, to extinguish the seemingly never-relenting lustful fires, amidst a full class load, and in competition with not only living aside two of my siblings, but also Beau's migraines—which, though he tried not to let it become obvious continued to bother him.
As ever, I could not read his mind, but I had become quite adept in reading his face, his eyes, his body and his emotions. As much as he would have liked to hide his discomfort from me, I knew better—even though I knew he wished I didn't.
But for now, in the eye of the storm, in the midst of this sweet reprieve, there was only this—us, the thousand-thread count of the sheets beneath us, the heat and the silk of Beau's skin, and the saccharine taste of his lips against mine.
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"Is this absolutely necessary?"
It was exactly a week later, and I was not the only one who suspected that Archie's plans for his first Halloween party in decades had inflated just a little too much beyond reasonable measures.
Beau stood in front of the wide mirror affixed to the wall in the corridor outside our bedroom, his expression severely plaintive and unerringly critical.
"Absolutely," Archie said from over his shoulder, a huge grin on his face. Again, my visions—both literal and creatively—have come to fruition. "You two are absolute perfection."
Beau cocked an eyebrow at his fake-bloodied white, buttoned shirt, crimson-dotted jeans, and severely disoriented hair—gelled to stay that way—in the mirror. He turned his head to examine the painted-on wound in the side of his neck, and tried not to grimace.
"My wife's an absolute visionary with the makeup, don't you think?" Archie urged.
"Uh…" Beau hesitated, his eyes tracing the contours of the sharp-edged bite marks engraved into the fake skin Jessamine had plastered over top of his carotid artery, and this time he visibly flinched. "Sure?"
He drew his gaze away from the bite replica—which, to be fair, Jessamine had done incredible justice; takes one to know one and such—and turned to look at me.
I watched him take in the outfit—the long black gown with the plunging neckline, the black nails filed into the shape of a stiletto, the blood—again, fake—which caked my chin and upper chest, and the makeup which Jessamine had had more fun with, still. The ruby lips and shadows beneath my eyes, coupled with the smoky effect and the marbling around it all, gave off a supremely scary effect. My eyes, however, remained the color of rich butter, which took the edge off some, and added to it in different ways.
Beau turned back to Archie. "You don't think it's a little too…?"
"What?"
"Uh, I don't know, accurate?"
Archie snorted, and gently socked Beau on the shoulder. "She may have tried to eat you a couple years ago, dude, but we all know that temptation has long since passed."
Beau rolled his eyes, possessing no patience for Archie's theatrics. "I know that," he grumbled, "It's just… Don't people at school already think we're a little… different? And doesn't—"
"Beau, my man," Archie interrupted him, "People in college don't pay near as much attention to us as people in a small-town high school did. Don't worry. No one's going to suspect anything. It's like… Fight fire with fire, right? If we were actually vampires, would we actually be dressing up as them for Halloween?" He gave Beau a conspiratorial wink and turned to watch Jessamine stride toward us.
She, too, was dressed as the heavily stereotyped female vampire—and Archie her all-too-willing victim. She came to a stand-still at Archie's side, wrapping one arm around his waist.
Stop worrying, the both of you, she thought as all tension and hesitation was suddenly released from my shoulders. It'll be fun.
To be completely transparent, I hadn't even realized I'd been feeling any reservation about Archie's mega Halloween party at all until Jessamine had replaced it with ease and just enough excitement to get things moving.
While Archie set to work putting the finishing touches on the 'haunted halls' of the house—complete with cobwebs, dark corners and creaking sound effects—Beau and I were sent to the kitchen to finish up the 'horror d'oeuvres', as Archie had dubbed them.
Just as I was arranging the pumpkin-shaped cheese ball in the center of its platter, two familiar minds came into range, and I smiled in anticipation.
It wasn't long before Eleanor and Royal came through the back door, dressed to the nines in their twenties-esque outfits. Of course, this wasn't a far stretch from the wardrobe we'd all been used to only half a century ago, but it would remain a get-up to the barely-adults soon to arrive on our doorstep.
El was dressed to the nines in six inch pumps, fishnets, and pinstripe skirt and jacket, complete with scarf and matching hat, holding a demure pistol at her side. Royal was equally as impressive in his own 1920's gangster apparel, toting a bigger rifle over his shoulder.
"You guys really pulled it off!" she called out, grinning, as they came into the kitchen.
Beau jumped, startled, having not heard their entrance. But I turned and beamed at my brother and sister, mostly happy to see El, but quite enjoying Roy's presence as well. It had been a long time, too long under happy circumstances, to have spent this much time and not have seen them.
El embraced me tightly and then turned to clap Beau on the shoulder. "Got the short end of the stick, didn't you, kid?" she said severely.
"No, I just—it was—"
Eleanor laughed as Beau stammered, and laughed harder when his face flushed pink.
The set of his jaw changed, the blue of his eyes glinting with something like resignation, carefully crafted hostility, and mirth. But, of course, I couldn't be sure.
"You know Archie," he finally conceded.
"I do what I want!" said vampire-hiding-in-the-open boomed as he entered the kitchen, his arms spread wide. "You guys made it!"
"Of course! You haven't thrown a shindig like this since eighty four!" Eleanor crowed, crossing the floor to embrace him, too. "Wouldn't miss it for the world, little brother!"
Archie smirked at her and ducked just in time to avoid her would-be human-skull-crushing noogie. "Little brother," he scoffed. It had been a point of well-known, friendly contention between the two since we'd all come together in 1950. It didn't matter to Eleanor that Archie was older than her in the ways that counted. I'd tried to tell him on more than one occasion that she obstinately referred to me as her little sister, even though I was the oldest of us all aside from our mother, but Archie had never learned to accept El's claims and still insisted on arguing against the title.
Royal and Archie greeted each other then, and I was surprised when my blond brother spoke not only to me, but made an effort to acknowledge Beau as well.
This seemed to take him off guard as well, because his ears went pink once more when Royal nodded in his direction before heading into the front room.
With two more pairs of hands on board, the party preparations went much faster, and we were ready for our guests not fifteen minutes later. The black lights were employed, the decorations hung, the food set out, and the music blaring.
"And," Archie said, crossing into the living room with two kegs in each hand, "What would a college party be without beer?"
Royal followed with two more kegs, and Eleanor came in toting a seventh.
"A lot of beer," she said, setting it next to Archie's. "Apparently, we're either trying to drown these college kids in it, or poison them to death."
Archie glared at her. "Sorry if I want to show these kids a good time. And on a side note, no one's going to die at my party." Archie's face looked almost scary in the purple-hued lighting.
Eleanor raised her hands in defense. Jesus, can't the kid take a joke? "Even Death herself would not dare cross this threshold."
Her words seemed to satisfy Archie, and he began to arrange the kegs in a semi-circle next to the fireplace, which he'd filled with black-painted pumpkins and paper-mache'd skulls, humming 'This is Halloween' to himself.
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The party proceeded with no apparent near-poisonings or drownings.
People ate, drank, chatted and danced to their hearts' contents, and I was happy to report to Beau that there were no apparent wonderings about the true origins of our nature, nor any suspicion regarding our costumes.
In fact, on the part of some of the students, there was maybe a little too much fascination, especially with Beau's costume.
"Oh, come on, Edy, don't be jealous," Eleanor cajoled, following my gaze across the room, where a certain young female—while not blonde, popular and vile-minded—reminded me painfully of Forks's own McKayla Newton. She was practically breathing the same air as Beau was, using the poor excuse of loud music to get close to him.
Ugh, how can someone who's covered in blood still be soo hot? That jaw line—I just can't!
"I'm not jealous," I told Eleanor as the girl chattered on relentlessly, unceasingly. I watched them for a moment longer, only growing increasingly more irritated. "I mean, how much is there really for them to talk about? They share one class."
Maybe you should go over there.
"Can't she see his ring?"
I wonder if I can make up an excuse to get him out of here? It's kind of loud in here, and I'd really like to get to know him better… Even though I feel like we've been friends forever anyway…!
"How much less can you know him? I mean, you don't even know he's married?"
I wasn't aware I'd muttered the words aloud until Eleanor laughed.
So get your cute lil butt over there and show her who's boss!
"Maybe I will."
"Maybe I will," Eleanor mimicked, and snorted again. "Yeah, I can just see it—" Oh, shit. She's actually going over there.
"And I mean, that just, like, totally resonated with me, y'know?! 'Cause everything Professor Goldman says is just… well, gold, y'know?" the girl was saying, talking so animatedly that she was in serious danger of spilling her drink all over Beau's shirt.
I hoped the indistinct, rabbit-trail manner of her thoughts was a by-product of how much she'd had to drink tonight, instead of an actual facet of her rudimentary personality.
"Uh, yeah, I do," Beau was saying now, clearly uncomfortable as she took a swig of her drink. As she half-buried her face behind her cup, he looked up, scanning the room for a moment until he caught sight of me.
The relief was a concrete non-negotiable on his face, and the anger abruptly cooled, quickly replaced by the calm assurance that came with knowing I was his, and he was mine.
My steps slowed as I came up on the two of them. The girl didn't notice my approach, laying her hand on Beau's arm as she laughed in a shrieking, grating sort of way.
"See!" she crowed, "I knew you'd get it! Nobody ever gets me, but you're just… You're different, Beau… You're special."
"Um… Thanks, Brittani? You're, uh… you're pretty… different? Too…?"
Her eyes were bright, a little too bright, and I could smell just how much she'd had to drink. Brittani Peterson wasn't very wide or tall at all, and the party had barely been going on an hour, but it was clear her blood alcohol level at least exceeded the basic inebriation levels.
She probably wouldn't remember much of this conversation in the morning. Her thought processes were steadily mangling—and unfortunately for Brittani, she was an honest drunk. I could hear her building up to confessing her very shallow and probably brief feelings for Beau, and I just couldn't possibly let that happen. For her humiliation's sake as much as Beau's.
I didn't want to put him in that sort of situation, having to turn down a girl who'd had too much to drink and had just laid her heart out on the line.
"That's why I'm so glad we're such good friends, Beau," she was saying now, picking at the collar of his shirt while he practically cringed against the wall. "Because there's, like, this unspoken thing between us, where we can just be honest, you know? And I really appreciate being able to be honest with you…"
"Hey, Brittani?" I said, right beside them now.
She gave a little start, and turned surprised hazel eyes on me.
Across the room, Eleanor would have been suffocating to death if she'd had the need to breathe.
What is she, a hamster? That squeak was hilarious! Whoo… Okay, now, Edy. Show her what you've got; show her what your momma gave you.
I ignored my obnoxious sister's urgings and smiled as sweetly as I was able to at the young, misplaced girl.
"I think you might have found yourself in the wrong place, Brittani," I told her softly.
An abrupt mask of confusion fell over her face, and she glanced around the room. "Wait, isn't this Archie Andrews' Halloween party?"
"Archie—?" Beau began.
In the doorway a few feet away, Archie cleared his throat loudly, catching Beau's attention.
"Just go with it," he hissed.
I shot Archie a condemnatory glower that both humans missed entirely, and then turned back to Brittani. "Yes, Archie Andrews' party. Who did you come with?"
"Oh, um, I came with Lily and Noah, and Melody."
"I think they were looking for you," I told her, quickly scanning the crowd for the barely familiar minds of the people she had mentioned, "Out on the front step. It seemed kind of urgent to me."
"Oh," Brittani said, and glanced past me toward the front door. Then she fixed her eyes back on my face, and her mind registered my name, but she genuinely had no idea that Beau and I were married. "Thanks, Edythe."
She turned and smiled at Beau. "I guess I'll… see you in class on Monday, Beau."
"Yeah," he said, "See you." He lifted his left hand to wave, and one of the strobe lights caught the band of white gold encircling his fourth finger.
Something in Brittani's mind suddenly cleared, and I heard her heart skip an audible beat.
Wait. He's…? He's married? Ohmigod, I didn't even know. And…
She noticed me, then, and put the pieces together.
Hold on… She's Archie's sister, right? And her last name wasn't the same as his… S… S, something… Oh god…
Her gaze dropped to my waist, trying to catch a glimpse of my left hand, but failing in the ill-lit common room.
I think I've… Oh, no. Oh no, oh no, oh no… I'd better just go…
Her gaze lingered a couple seconds longer, and then she turned, stepping through to the front entryway.
"So, that was…" Beau started.
"Painfully reminiscent," I finished, smirking up at him.
Beau gave me a patronizing look. "That was nothing like—"
"That was everything like high school."
Beau sighed, shaking his head.
"But I would venture I might have come to terms with it by this point in time," I confessed.
His brow crinkled. "What does that mean?"
I grinned and stretched up on my toes to kiss him. "It means you're only going to become more devastatingly handsome than you already are when you become immortal," I murmured, "And it wouldn't be fair to all of the unsuspecting, innocent teenage girls for me to go around ripping their heads off when none of them are honestly aware that they're flirting with my amazing, clever, and passionate husband."
He grinned, his palm flattening against the small of my back and pulling me closer to where he was leaning against the wall. His lips, warm and soft, touched mine, and I melted into his chest a little, sighing contentedly.
Holy, and I thought me and Roy were bad… Get a room!
I snickered against his mouth.
"What?" Beau mumbled. His eyes were electric in the darkness of the living room, his skin warm from the crowding of human bodies within the house.
"El thinks we're displaying just a little too much PDA."
"El thinks—?!" Beau started, his face heating.
"If she does, then we must be pretty bad… As bad as they were."
"At least. In fact, I think we might be worse."
He kissed me again, and for a minute, the party around us fizzled into non-existence.
"Definitely worse," I sighed.
Oh. My. God. Seriously! I didn't know vampires could feel nauseated!
I pulled back again and turned to grin in El's direction. She hadn't moved from where she'd been standing before this conversation had taken place.
"If you don't like it, don't stand there and watch like some sort of voyeur," I said to her under my breath.
Voyeur?! Yeah, right!
"You know you played a part in creating this, don't you?"
I—What?! How dare you even suggest—
"All your teasing… all your jibes, your jokes, your innuendos… Well, dear sister, it's time for payback…"
I turned away from her indignant expression and slipped my hand into Beau's. "Come on. We're making my sister nauseous."
I led him from the room, as he blushed beet red as ever, and up the stairs. But as we reached the landing, the cell phone in Beau's pocket began to vibrate and sing. Somehow unaware of it, Beau pushed my hair aside and laid his lips at the nape of my neck, murmuring something about my dress.
"As much as I'd love to hear more about that," I said, slipping my hand into his pocket, "You might want to answer this."
I held the little silver device in front of his face, Renee's name flashing on the screen.
Beau's expression cleared, and he took the phone from me, flipping it open and putting it to his ear.
"Mom?"
"Phil, actually. Sorry, kid. I don't mean to interrupt your Halloween plans or anything… You guys having a party?"
"Uh, kind of… Not really. What's going on? Is Mom okay?" He moved down the hall toward our bedroom door, opening it and slipping inside. He didn't look over his shoulder, and so I assumed he didn't want to be accompanied.
I hesitated on the top step of the staircase, not knowing whether I should follow or not, but ultimately decided to remain where I was.
It was a few minutes before Beau emerged again, and when he did, I searched his face for any sign of distress or anxiety. Surprisingly, he showed none of it, and I chastised myself for overreacting, for suspecting the worst-case scenario.
"Is everyone okay?"
"Oh, uh, yeah. They just, um, won't be able to make it down for Thanksgiving after all. Renee got put on bed rest for the foreseeable future." He shrugged. "I guess she was having some bleeding and something with her blood pressure… Not exactly sure. Phil wasn't a hundred percent, either. But he asked if we could fly out there instead, if that works for you?"
"Of course it works for me," I told him. "I'm just glad it's not something more serious."
"Yeah, me too." He eased his arm over my shoulders, and pressed his cheek to the top of my head. It was then, as I listened to the gradual slowing of his heart rate, that I realized he maybe hadn't been as calm and collected as I assumed he had been.
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A/N: A little bit of a longer one for you guys. Thanks for sticking around! I'll see you all next time! Leave me a review if you've got time—I'd love just to read a hi, hello.
*EDIT: Just had such a scare. Went to proofread back through this first draft without saving. My Word froze halfway through and I had to Force Quit without saving the NINE PAGES OF WRITING I DID IN ONE SITTING! Thank the HEAVENS auto-save saved my butt. Phew! Scary few seconds there, kids. But we're good now. Thought you'd all like to know. See ya next time!*
