(See first part for disclaimer, notes, spoilers, etc.)
Chapter 35: "Us Eternal"
Whisky? Scotch? Maybe bourbon? Or vodka?
Gregory slammed the door of the liquor chest shut, turning away with a frown. He clenched his fist open and shut several times, willing the dull ache in his chest away. Liquor would help. The heavy loneliness that suffocated him during the day evaporated at night, replaced by something entirely new. Loneliness. Warm, born-of-alcohol loneliness.
How did alcoholics do it? Sit alone and drink themselves into oblivion until there was nothing left?
He reached for the cabinet again, grabbing a hold of the brass handles and opening it. Two glasses he turned right side up, dropping the cubes in with a reassuring clink. The aged scotch lapped over the ice, the cubes bobbing to the top like buoys in the harbor.
Taking a long sip out of one, he leaned against the arm of the sofa and stared blankly at the floor. A thick fibered carpet, the kind that a person could lose their toes in if they walked through it barefoot. Were he and Olivia barefoot in here ever? He couldn't remember. She went barefoot in the bedroom often, her chilled feet tucked under his legs for warmth. She giggled when he pointed it out and just shrugged innocently as she burrowed deeper into his embrace.
He sighed as more scotch ran down his throat, sending a pulse of heat through his stomach. So they may not have been barefoot in this room together; what else hadn't they done? He rubbed the back of his neck in thought and took another sip out of the thick-bottomed glass.
A knock at the door distracted Gregory. It was a knock he'd know anywhere. Soft, with a light and cautious hand, as if she was afraid of drawing anyone's attention with it but his. With another sigh, he pulled open the door and leaned against it. "What haven't we done?" he asked.
Olivia's forehead wrinkled in confusion as she frowned, her eyes narrowed behind her sunglasses. "What?" she asked as stepped into the suite.
Gregory pushed the door shut and gestured in between them with his glass as she tucked her sunglasses into her purse. "What haven't we done together yet?" He turned to the open bar and passed her the second glass of scotch.
She dropped her bag on the coffee table and cupped the glass, following him to the sofa. She folded one leg underneath her and faced him, grimacing as the scotch touched her lips. "Is this a trick question?"
He shrugged and finished the last of his scotch with a large gulp. "I didn't think it was." He glared down at the empty glass and pushed it onto the coffee table so that it slid across the surface, coming to a stop when it crashed into her purse. The sofa was firm, giving just enough as he leaned back against it before he turned to her. Meeting the blue eyes that were narrowed in thought, a slight frown disfiguring her face. "What?"
Olivia set her still full glass aside and took his hand. "Are you alright?"
Her slender hand was cool and soft against his as she squeezed it slightly. Concern echoed from the depths of her blue eyes as she shifted closer to him.
"Talk to me," she pled in a whisper.
Her knee was a soft pressure on his thigh, a reassurance that she was here with him now. Was it fair to be brutally honest? To admit that he was madder than hell that nothing had changed between them. That everything was the same as it ever was. She was still Olivia Deschanel and he still traveled three thousand miles once a month to see her. That he felt like a three year old when he decided that it just wasn't fair that they still had to see each other like this. Hidden away like clandestine thieves. Damnit, they deserved better than that.
She grasped his shoulder, turning him more to her. "Gregory?" She leaned in and examined him close up, her face a scant inch away from his. His jaw was working, as if his teeth were clenched tight inside his mouth. "Please?"
His eyes snapped forward and met hers, the hard ice in them thawing as he felt her sigh on his cheek. The air rushed out of his chest in a long sigh as he shook his head and removed her hand from his shoulder, brushing his lips against her knuckles. "Bad flight," he covered as he forced a smile.
Olivia tilted her head as he leaned forward for a quick taste of scotch from her glass. "Is that all?"
It had to be. It wasn't fair to either of them to get into the forbidden aspect of their relationship, not now. Not when their time together was so short. Not that the relationship, in and of itself, wasn't forbidden. Didn't adulterers wind up in the second level of the Inferno? He shuddered and hugged her tighter. For now, it had to be. "Airports are crazy at this time of year. There were small children in the lounge whining about Santa and presents."
She chuckled and sat back, resting her elbow on his shoulder. "Christmas is still a week away."
"Tell that to them," Gregory muttered as his fingers trailed the length of her spine and back again. "You've got no idea how much I've missed you," he stated after a few moments.
The pad of her thumb skimmed the flesh of his neck as she rested her head against his. "I can guess." Her lips pressed a gentle kiss to his temple and she sighed softly. His hand found her hair, tangling it within the dark waterfall down her back. She swung her legs into his lap and his free hand cupped the back of her thighs.
As her head shifted to rest on his shoulder, he asked, "What is it that you want for Christmas?" Her giggle was infectious and he couldn't help but smile as he glanced down at her. Her eyes turned up, laughter ringing there now too.
"It's a valid question," he insisted. "Assuming, of course, that you've been a good girl this year."
The dare had been laid. Olivia sat up, an amused smile on her lips as she straddled his lap. "What do you think?" she asked demurely, her skirt riding up on her thighs as his hands rested on her hips.
Her arms went around his neck as he eyed her critically. "I don't know," he decided after a moment as he rubbed his palms against her hips. "I did tell you once that there were equal amounts of angel and devil in you."
She smiled as their original conversation whispered to her from the shadows of her memory. "You did, didn't you?" He nodded his head deeply, reinforcing that he was right and she laughed softly as she bent her lips to his.
This is what he remembered and longed for. This quiet intimacy. Being able to kiss her, simply because he could. Because she was here and he was here and that's all that ever mattered when they were alone together. He wrapped his hands around the middle of her back, pulling her closer. She shifted in his lap as her fingers cupped his face and her lips showered it with feather kisses.
His hands crept up and tugged on her blazer, pulling it off her shoulders. As the blazer bunched around the middle of her back, his hands found her flesh, left bare by her sleeveless blouse. She pulled her hands away from him long enough to shake her arms out of the sleeves and wrap her arms back around him. They were cool against his warm neck, a contrast to the slow burning heat building between them. And as her lips became more insistent and hungrier against his own, he pulled back.
"Wha- Why?" she groaned softly, her lips a dull aching red. She started to lean back to him, but he braced her shoulders back.
"I need to give you something, before it's too late."
"Late for what?"
Gregory grabbed her hips and held her in place. "Stay put." He reached behind him, to the long table hugging the back of the sofa. He felt around and found the square box next to the base of the flower arrangement.
She looked down quietly as he held out a box wrapped in glossy white paper. "Gregory…" she whispered
"Merry Christmas Liv." He watched as she blinked and glanced up at him, a broad smile stretching across her face. She caressed the side of his face with the back of her fingers and kissed his lips again. A soft kiss, absent was the burning desire from just a moment ago. Gone at the present, but not forgotten.
She sat back and grinned in the way a child would on Christmas morning as she looked down at the small package. "Thank you darling." With careful ease, she wedged her finger into the paper folds and peeled back the shiny wrapping. In one smooth movement, it slid off the box whole. Leaving only a jewelry box of deep red in her palm, gold trim around the base. She wedged her nail into the gold clasp and popped it open, the hinge creaking slightly as she lifted the top. "Oh God," she gasped, bright pinpoints of light dancing across her face. "Oh God," she trailed off as Gregory gently pulled the top all the way back and pried the box from her hand.
He tucked her hair behind her ears and removed the first earring from the box, fastening it to her lobe gently. When it was in place, he went back for its twin and said softly, "Just a little something that I saw in the window of a little store on Fifth Avenue."
Olivia turned the box up as he clipped the second earring to her. She glanced at the name of the jeweler embossed in gold script on the inside of the top cover and arched her eyebrow. "Little store?"
He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. "I can't be concerned with details. But do you like them?" he asked. The large ruby studs sat on her ear lobes, a double vine of small diamond leaves falling from each one.
She nodded, the entwined diamonds swaying slightly. "I love them," she whispered as she bestowed another kiss on his lips. She broke away and smiled softly. "They're absolutely beautiful." She glanced down and bit her lip, her hand fidgeting anxiously against his. "My gift for you pales in comparison."
Gregory's hand was warm as it encircled hers, squeezing gently as he smiled confidently. "No it doesn't." He gestured her close with a crooked finger and whispered in her ear, "You've got it backwards."
She shook her head unsurely and reached across for her bag. The small hunter green satchel was tied off with twine. With a bashful smile, she handed him the velvet pouch and whispered, "Merry Christmas darling."
The twine gave easily with one tug and he shook the contents into his palm. A small gold ring tumbled out, landing face down in his hand. He picked it up and examined it in the light.
"It's called a Claddagh ring. Well," she broke off and laughed nervously, "it's my Claddagh ring, to be exact." She watched as he turned the ring over in his palm, still staring at it. "It's the Irish symbol of love. The hands are for our friendship, the crown is for our eternal loyalty to one and other, and the heart- the heart is for our undying love." As she gently closed his fist over the ring, she said softly, "I thought that it could keep my place…until I could be with you."
He didn't quite know how she managed to do it. How she managed to be so utterly sweet to him when he was ready to drown their sorrows in scotch. How one little gift could set his mind at ease and set the demon feelings at bay. How her heartfelt words could create such a lump of emotion in his throat. How she could make him love her more than he did five minutes ago. She would, for him, eternally be a mystery.