September 12th,
I had a dream last night.
Thoreau once wrote that 'dreams are the touchstones of our character'...if that is the case I must be a very boring person indeed. I usually sleep like a log, and if I do dream the images are lost to me when the alarm goes off in the morning.
I have always considered this a blessing, for given my nature I would most likely be plagued by nightmares. As it is when I do 'dream'...if you could call it that...they are most often vivid recollections of actual events in my life. I needn't tell you it is not the pleasant memories that are dredged up by my subconscious!
As I have mentioned previously, there are times when I wake up screaming from the events my mind recalls.
In any case, last night was different. At first I thought it was a simple remembrance, as the scene was familiar in a strange way. But as it unfolded, I realized that certain details...subtle nuances...were different.
I am standing in a cemetery...the day is gray and damp, and I remember pulling my coat tight around me to drive out the wet cold. The rain is coming down lightly but persistently and there is water dripping off the rim of my hat. In a few more moments I am sure my dress uniform will be soaked through.
It is quiet. The only sound that of the minister's voice droning and the rustle of the wind blowing through the trees that surround us. Around me are my teammates...all dressed in their best...all equally wet and miserable, while in the distance I can see the American flag flying at half-mast. There is a lone man standing on a hill far to the right...Black Watch, I note as I notice his traditional highland garb.
I remember thinking to myself 'this must be Ito's' funeral' as the familiar feeling of loss washes over me. Quick Kick was with the Joes for such a short time, but he really wormed his way into the hearts of those he worked with. He had a way of drawing out even the sourest of characters, getting them to crack a smile at his good-natured teasing.
I was one of the first people he worked with when he joined the Joes, and although I was a bit taken aback by his unorthodox gear (who runs around barefoot with no shirt on in the middle of a battlefield?) I soon looked past it and marveled at his abilities. I can fight...but like Lady Jaye I am more of a brawler...no finesse. People who master the martial arts, well...I have always admired them. I lack the patience for it.
In any case, back to the dream. I'm at Arlington.
You know, it doesn't matter how many times I have been to the place...how many of my fellow soldiers I have buried...it never, ever gets easier. If anything...it gets worse. You keep thinking to yourself...how much longer until it is I they are honoring? How much longer until my luck runs out? As I look at my companions standing about, heads bowed...I know they are wondering the same thing.
Suddenly the mournful sound of bagpipes cut through the silence and I look up to see the lone Black Watch soldier playing a funeral dirge. Was there a piper at Quick Kick's funeral? No...and come to think of it, it wasn't raining.
I begin to feel a bit confused...a bit afraid. I fight the emotion down, as I am certainly not going to let the others know that I am anxious...not even in a dream. But there are some people I can never fool.
I remember feeling Roadblock's hand on my shoulder, steadying me...steadying himself as they began to lower the coffin. Pain and sadness shot through me like a knife and unconsciously I reached out to grab a hand...her hand.
But all I grasped was air.
Suddenly, I felt my heart seize in a frenzy of panicked beating as I quickly swung my eyes around to find her missing from my side. Where is she? I wondered as I began to search the crowd.
It was then that my eyes fell upon the small gray monument and took in the name etched in the stone.
I woke up at that moment...disoriented...lost...empty...
It took me a full ten minutes to calm my heart and reassure myself that it was only a dream. Even then the uneasiness continued to haunt me throughout the day, so much so that I was beginning to become frustrated with what I saw as my own idiocy. Here I was, a man grown...a soldier...a Joe for Christ's sake, and I was letting myself be distracted by a mere fantasy. You can well imagine that this little inner conflict, combined with the simmering anger caused by the situation with Duke left me a tad short tempered.
Was it any surprise then that I snapped at Duke the minute he and his team descended from the transport?
So intent was I in our little 'tete a tete' that I did not notice the odd look on Jaye's face, the slight unsteadiness to her gait, until I turned around to find her collapsed in Roadblock's arms, moaning in pain.
I am not a religious man, nor am I the superstitious sort, but that moment...that very second...the dream came back to me and I honestly thought...no, BELIEVED...that it was a premonition...
...I thought that Alison was going to die right there and then in Marvin's arms, with me standing over her with a look of complete terror on my face.
I am sure both Lifeline and Duke though I had lost my mind as I paced about the examination room like a mad man...this after I panicked and rushed a semi conscious Jaye to the infirmary in my arms. In fact, I didn't believe Lifeline when he first told me that she was going to be fine, and although he looked amused as I kept hammering him with questions, I was sure he was irked as well. No matter how long he has been with the team, or how he has proven himself a worthy successor, I know he fights a constant battle against our memory of Doc. In retrospect, I should have told him that I used to drive Doc crazy as well. That time Jaye went down in Iowa the good doctor banished me from sickbay!!
It's funny, when Snake Eyes went ballistic at the hospital in New York it was I who pulled him aside and lectured him about not taking out your hurt on other people. If he could have seen me yesterday I think he would have shook his head in quiet exasperation.
He tried to tell me then...even as Scarlett lay in a coma with no hope that she would ever wake up...he tried to tell me. I wouldn't listen. I played dumb...for all intents and purposes at that point I was dumb.
And yet it was so clear...it was so very, very clear.
Sometimes, as Virginia Woolf once wrote, 'it is in our idleness, in our dreams, that the submerged truth sometimes comes to the top.' Last night that truth was practically shouted across my subconscious...I love this woman.
Not only that...I was IN love with her.
That very same dream also drilled home the precise reason why I can never succumb to that emotion. Why I can never tell her.
Yet as I lie here next to her on this narrow little hospital bed, watching her sleep (every so often checking to make sure she is still breathing...yes...I'm an idiot), I can't help but remind myself that, like a fool, I succumbed to it long ago.
I think it is because the whole thing snuck up on me...gradually building so that by the time I actually noticed it was already to late. It wasn't like the last time...which hit me full force the first time I laid eyes on the woman in question. Love at first sight, I guess...although I know now that there is no such animal. Learned that lesson the hard way.
No...my relationship with Alison was a slow and steady escalation, an unhurried buildup of trust and friendship...of affection and love...so that before I knew it we had been together for four years and despite the denials, my heart was hers.
I am a master of denial, however...as it was some time after we became lovers that I realized what was happening...and some time after that realization that I admitted those feelings to myself.
Oh god...what is she reading? Could it be?
"Claire Randall is leading a double life...she has a husband in one century and a lover in another...blah blah blah...James Fraser, a gallant young Scots warrior shows her a passion so fierce and a love so absolute that Claire becomes a woman torn between fidelity and desire..."
It is! Great googly-moogly, it's a romance novel! A bodice ripper! Oh boy...I can't wait for her to wake up...I am so going to enjoy teasing her about this. This stuff is like porn for women!
Hmmm...it's set in Scotland. That figures for despite her East Coast upbringing, Allie is a Scot through and through...right down to her accent, her temper and her capacity to hold liquor. In fact, her father named her Raonaid...the gaelic variation of 'Rachel'...although from what she tells me that was relegated to an initial when her mother decided that she should be named for some long dead Hart matriarch.
Another little Highland quirk of hers, as I discovered one fall evening, is that she has a thing for men in kilts!
What an evening that was...I don't remember ever having a better time! We had just completed a hugely successful mission in Scotland where we obtained the much sought after plans for COBRA's terrordrome. We had to work side by side with Destro in order to accomplish this goal...something I was not very keen on...but as a soldier you learn to take whatever advantage that presents itself.
This was the first time Lady Jaye and I had been teamed up together, and I am sure I have mentioned already that it was a really good fit. That is not to say we didn't have I our moments...she was a little too friendly with Chrome Dome if you ask me...but at that point we were pretty close friends and I understood her motivations even if I didn't show it.
In any case, here we were, finished the mission and ready for a night at the pub. Allie had contacted her cousins and through various contacts had managed to wrangle tickets to see the Chieftains at the Red Lion. She had gone on ahead, having left me to wrap some of the paperwork while she stopped by to visit with relatives, and I was to meet her at the pub with Sgt Day and Jingles in tow.
"You aren't going to wear THAT now, are you old boy?" Jingles stated as he looked me over with a critical eye. More than a critical eye...to this day I am convinced he was hitting on me.
What can I say? I'm irresistible!
I was a bit taken aback by the comment, as I thought I was dressed quite nicely. A pair of black jeans, a nice black shirt...I was ready to hit the bar and pick up some local lassies!
"You look like you are about to go clubbing in London, chap. This is Scotland and we are going to see the Chieftains..." Day nodded his agreement.
"Wait a minute...you can't possibly mean..."
The next thing I knew I was in a jeep and on my way, feeling a very cool breeze in area of my body unfamiliar with that particular sensation, and red faced with aggravation and embarrassment.
A skirt...they've got me in a skirt!
Ok...a kilt...borrowed from one of the other officers. I was dressed up in the whole nine yards...the sporran, the brogues, the wool socks, the skindoo...on top I was wearing a tight fitting black shirt (which, I dare say, showed off my physique quite well...vanity thy name is Dashiell).
All I remember thinking as we got closer and closer to our destination was that I was about to be laughed right out of the bar and that Lady Jaye is never going to let me live this down! That and, 'oh crap Jingles is eyeing my legs'!
I was going to be the laughing stock of the Joe team for the next few months I just knew it. The cross-dressing jokes are going to be flying fast and furious.
Well...was I in for a surprise!
First off, when we arrived I scanned the bar only to discover about 90% of the male patrons were dressed in similar garb. Huge sigh of relief.
But more unexpected than that was Alison's reaction.
I tensed as she approached me from the other side of the room, stopping short as she took in my new look. I braced for laughter...but it never came. Instead, I looked up and saw something burning in her eyes...something I had rarely seen before. Was it? It was!
Desire.
I swallowed hard as she licked her lips while she looked me up and down. For a moment I didn't quite no what to do, but it soon passed and I decided to take advantage of the situation with a little teasing.
"I bet your itching to find out if I am wearing anything underneath..." I smirked as I saw her eyes darken. That smile certainly disappeared quickly when I heard her reply.
"Is that an invitation?"
To say that I was thrown off by this would be a gross understatement. I mean you have to understand...up until that night she had shot me down every chance she got. We were friends, and although I continued to flirt, I was just getting comfortable with this kind of relationship. I had never had a girl who was 'just a friend' before...it took me a while to adapt.
Now she had thrown out a curve ball and I wasn't quite sure how to react. Mind you, she didn't give me much of a chance as she turned and headed back over to our table before I could reply.
We all had a wonderful time, however. Good music, dancing, drinking...her cousins were a blast. Super sense of humor and very easy to get along with. It was obvious that the three of them were very close...almost like brothers and sister...complete with the sibling tendency to tease and roughhouse.
Jaye's unusual behavior continued on and off for the rest of the night. I would catch her staring and me from across the table, and then once, while I was chatting up a red head at the bar, she came over to order drinks and muttered something under her breath in Gaelic before sauntering back to the others.
As she was leaving, the girl...who I am sure I would have charmed into my parlor given a little more time...looked at me oddly and made her excuses before wandering off. The bartender just laughed as he poured me another Guiness.
"Ach...laddie...that lass of yours has got ye on a short leash..."
"Leash? No...I don't think so...and she's not my lass. She's just a friend...a worki..."
He cut me off with a broad smile.
"Believe what ye will, lad...but the Lady Burnett just staked her claim as bold as brass. Being a gentlemen I willna repeat what she just said to the Daergh that left, but I dona think ye will have much company tonight!"
Needless to say I sought Allie out immediately, and was swept onto the dance floor as soon as I reached her side. Now, I am not a bad dancer, but Jaye...she is something to watch! Professionally trained from the moment she was able to walk, the woman moved with a grace and fluidity that mesmerized. Dancing WITH her was even better...there was something sensual...almost sexual...about how we moved to the music.
Somehow I found my voice.
"What did you say to that woman?"
"Which one?"
"You know which one! You said something to her and she took off like a bat out of hell..."
"Did you ever think that maybe it was your sorry lines which drove her off..."
"Hey...my material is tried, tested and true. No...the bartender said you scared her off. "
"She's not your type."
"Not my TYPE? Since when have you taken an interest in who I chose to date..."
"...sleep with..."
"whatever...although thanks to you I am most probably going to be sleeping alone tonight."
At that she smiled mysteriously.
"Don't count on it."
"Wha!?" but she was off with Sgt Day before I could get another word out.
I didn't get a chance to confront her for the rest of the evening, as we were both too busy dancing and mingling with the locals...but the bartender had been right. I couldn't get any of the other female patrons to even flirt with me. Irksome to say the least, but at that point I was too distracted by my partner.
She looked beautiful that night. Who am I kidding, she always looks great, even in cammies...but that evening the sudden change in her attitude made her all the more appealing. Look, I'm a guy...opportunity was knocking and god knows I certainly wasn't going to turn away.
That said, as I walked her back to her room, I couldn't stop repeating the same lines over and over again in my head.
"She's just a friend...it's the alcohol talking...don't screw this up, Faireborn...keep it in your pants... be a gentleman for once in your life."
I tried... I really, really did...but she pulled out the big guns as I turned to leave her at her door and I knew I was as good as gone.
"So what ARE you wearing underneath that kilt?" she smiled a sultry smile as she moved towards me, and before I knew it we were rolling around naked in her bedroom.
And so began the physical side of our relationship. I recall being a pleasantly surprised by her confidence in the bedroom. I guess I always thought she was a bit of a prude. She did have a short moment of indecision and shyness right at the beginning, probably because I was too shocked to react to her sudden and very forward advanced...but that ended as soon as I collected myself enough to turn the tables and become the aggressor.
It was a wild ride...and from that evening forth it has been just her and me. It wasn't planned that way. I made it very clear, as I always do, that this was temporary... light ...not commitment...just for fun, and she agreed. I honestly thought that it would fizzle out the moment we touched down at the PITT after the mission...that we would go back to being just friends.
It never did...and eventually, one terrible, wonderful night in the Caribbean...it ceased to be just sex and became something much, much more.
I guess you might call it the 'point of no return', but I think that happened more recently, and that is a moment I would rather not recall...
She is mumbling something in her sleep and I just bent over to kiss softly on the head. I know I am not going to be able to rest tonight. Lifeline might have convinced the others that it was just a mild concussion and that she could sleep safely now that he has done the proper tests, but I remain skeptical. Jaye NEVER shows pain...ever...she's like me that way. For her to fall over in that hallway meant something serious was wrong. If I have to I am going to stand watch over her until the sun comes up.
Sigh*
Duke was right, Fairborn...you are going soft.
At least I have something to read. I should pick up Kundera before this Gabaldon chick messes with my literary sensibilities.
...and I will...right after I finish this chapter...
I had a dream last night.
Thoreau once wrote that 'dreams are the touchstones of our character'...if that is the case I must be a very boring person indeed. I usually sleep like a log, and if I do dream the images are lost to me when the alarm goes off in the morning.
I have always considered this a blessing, for given my nature I would most likely be plagued by nightmares. As it is when I do 'dream'...if you could call it that...they are most often vivid recollections of actual events in my life. I needn't tell you it is not the pleasant memories that are dredged up by my subconscious!
As I have mentioned previously, there are times when I wake up screaming from the events my mind recalls.
In any case, last night was different. At first I thought it was a simple remembrance, as the scene was familiar in a strange way. But as it unfolded, I realized that certain details...subtle nuances...were different.
I am standing in a cemetery...the day is gray and damp, and I remember pulling my coat tight around me to drive out the wet cold. The rain is coming down lightly but persistently and there is water dripping off the rim of my hat. In a few more moments I am sure my dress uniform will be soaked through.
It is quiet. The only sound that of the minister's voice droning and the rustle of the wind blowing through the trees that surround us. Around me are my teammates...all dressed in their best...all equally wet and miserable, while in the distance I can see the American flag flying at half-mast. There is a lone man standing on a hill far to the right...Black Watch, I note as I notice his traditional highland garb.
I remember thinking to myself 'this must be Ito's' funeral' as the familiar feeling of loss washes over me. Quick Kick was with the Joes for such a short time, but he really wormed his way into the hearts of those he worked with. He had a way of drawing out even the sourest of characters, getting them to crack a smile at his good-natured teasing.
I was one of the first people he worked with when he joined the Joes, and although I was a bit taken aback by his unorthodox gear (who runs around barefoot with no shirt on in the middle of a battlefield?) I soon looked past it and marveled at his abilities. I can fight...but like Lady Jaye I am more of a brawler...no finesse. People who master the martial arts, well...I have always admired them. I lack the patience for it.
In any case, back to the dream. I'm at Arlington.
You know, it doesn't matter how many times I have been to the place...how many of my fellow soldiers I have buried...it never, ever gets easier. If anything...it gets worse. You keep thinking to yourself...how much longer until it is I they are honoring? How much longer until my luck runs out? As I look at my companions standing about, heads bowed...I know they are wondering the same thing.
Suddenly the mournful sound of bagpipes cut through the silence and I look up to see the lone Black Watch soldier playing a funeral dirge. Was there a piper at Quick Kick's funeral? No...and come to think of it, it wasn't raining.
I begin to feel a bit confused...a bit afraid. I fight the emotion down, as I am certainly not going to let the others know that I am anxious...not even in a dream. But there are some people I can never fool.
I remember feeling Roadblock's hand on my shoulder, steadying me...steadying himself as they began to lower the coffin. Pain and sadness shot through me like a knife and unconsciously I reached out to grab a hand...her hand.
But all I grasped was air.
Suddenly, I felt my heart seize in a frenzy of panicked beating as I quickly swung my eyes around to find her missing from my side. Where is she? I wondered as I began to search the crowd.
It was then that my eyes fell upon the small gray monument and took in the name etched in the stone.
I woke up at that moment...disoriented...lost...empty...
It took me a full ten minutes to calm my heart and reassure myself that it was only a dream. Even then the uneasiness continued to haunt me throughout the day, so much so that I was beginning to become frustrated with what I saw as my own idiocy. Here I was, a man grown...a soldier...a Joe for Christ's sake, and I was letting myself be distracted by a mere fantasy. You can well imagine that this little inner conflict, combined with the simmering anger caused by the situation with Duke left me a tad short tempered.
Was it any surprise then that I snapped at Duke the minute he and his team descended from the transport?
So intent was I in our little 'tete a tete' that I did not notice the odd look on Jaye's face, the slight unsteadiness to her gait, until I turned around to find her collapsed in Roadblock's arms, moaning in pain.
I am not a religious man, nor am I the superstitious sort, but that moment...that very second...the dream came back to me and I honestly thought...no, BELIEVED...that it was a premonition...
...I thought that Alison was going to die right there and then in Marvin's arms, with me standing over her with a look of complete terror on my face.
I am sure both Lifeline and Duke though I had lost my mind as I paced about the examination room like a mad man...this after I panicked and rushed a semi conscious Jaye to the infirmary in my arms. In fact, I didn't believe Lifeline when he first told me that she was going to be fine, and although he looked amused as I kept hammering him with questions, I was sure he was irked as well. No matter how long he has been with the team, or how he has proven himself a worthy successor, I know he fights a constant battle against our memory of Doc. In retrospect, I should have told him that I used to drive Doc crazy as well. That time Jaye went down in Iowa the good doctor banished me from sickbay!!
It's funny, when Snake Eyes went ballistic at the hospital in New York it was I who pulled him aside and lectured him about not taking out your hurt on other people. If he could have seen me yesterday I think he would have shook his head in quiet exasperation.
He tried to tell me then...even as Scarlett lay in a coma with no hope that she would ever wake up...he tried to tell me. I wouldn't listen. I played dumb...for all intents and purposes at that point I was dumb.
And yet it was so clear...it was so very, very clear.
Sometimes, as Virginia Woolf once wrote, 'it is in our idleness, in our dreams, that the submerged truth sometimes comes to the top.' Last night that truth was practically shouted across my subconscious...I love this woman.
Not only that...I was IN love with her.
That very same dream also drilled home the precise reason why I can never succumb to that emotion. Why I can never tell her.
Yet as I lie here next to her on this narrow little hospital bed, watching her sleep (every so often checking to make sure she is still breathing...yes...I'm an idiot), I can't help but remind myself that, like a fool, I succumbed to it long ago.
I think it is because the whole thing snuck up on me...gradually building so that by the time I actually noticed it was already to late. It wasn't like the last time...which hit me full force the first time I laid eyes on the woman in question. Love at first sight, I guess...although I know now that there is no such animal. Learned that lesson the hard way.
No...my relationship with Alison was a slow and steady escalation, an unhurried buildup of trust and friendship...of affection and love...so that before I knew it we had been together for four years and despite the denials, my heart was hers.
I am a master of denial, however...as it was some time after we became lovers that I realized what was happening...and some time after that realization that I admitted those feelings to myself.
Oh god...what is she reading? Could it be?
"Claire Randall is leading a double life...she has a husband in one century and a lover in another...blah blah blah...James Fraser, a gallant young Scots warrior shows her a passion so fierce and a love so absolute that Claire becomes a woman torn between fidelity and desire..."
It is! Great googly-moogly, it's a romance novel! A bodice ripper! Oh boy...I can't wait for her to wake up...I am so going to enjoy teasing her about this. This stuff is like porn for women!
Hmmm...it's set in Scotland. That figures for despite her East Coast upbringing, Allie is a Scot through and through...right down to her accent, her temper and her capacity to hold liquor. In fact, her father named her Raonaid...the gaelic variation of 'Rachel'...although from what she tells me that was relegated to an initial when her mother decided that she should be named for some long dead Hart matriarch.
Another little Highland quirk of hers, as I discovered one fall evening, is that she has a thing for men in kilts!
What an evening that was...I don't remember ever having a better time! We had just completed a hugely successful mission in Scotland where we obtained the much sought after plans for COBRA's terrordrome. We had to work side by side with Destro in order to accomplish this goal...something I was not very keen on...but as a soldier you learn to take whatever advantage that presents itself.
This was the first time Lady Jaye and I had been teamed up together, and I am sure I have mentioned already that it was a really good fit. That is not to say we didn't have I our moments...she was a little too friendly with Chrome Dome if you ask me...but at that point we were pretty close friends and I understood her motivations even if I didn't show it.
In any case, here we were, finished the mission and ready for a night at the pub. Allie had contacted her cousins and through various contacts had managed to wrangle tickets to see the Chieftains at the Red Lion. She had gone on ahead, having left me to wrap some of the paperwork while she stopped by to visit with relatives, and I was to meet her at the pub with Sgt Day and Jingles in tow.
"You aren't going to wear THAT now, are you old boy?" Jingles stated as he looked me over with a critical eye. More than a critical eye...to this day I am convinced he was hitting on me.
What can I say? I'm irresistible!
I was a bit taken aback by the comment, as I thought I was dressed quite nicely. A pair of black jeans, a nice black shirt...I was ready to hit the bar and pick up some local lassies!
"You look like you are about to go clubbing in London, chap. This is Scotland and we are going to see the Chieftains..." Day nodded his agreement.
"Wait a minute...you can't possibly mean..."
The next thing I knew I was in a jeep and on my way, feeling a very cool breeze in area of my body unfamiliar with that particular sensation, and red faced with aggravation and embarrassment.
A skirt...they've got me in a skirt!
Ok...a kilt...borrowed from one of the other officers. I was dressed up in the whole nine yards...the sporran, the brogues, the wool socks, the skindoo...on top I was wearing a tight fitting black shirt (which, I dare say, showed off my physique quite well...vanity thy name is Dashiell).
All I remember thinking as we got closer and closer to our destination was that I was about to be laughed right out of the bar and that Lady Jaye is never going to let me live this down! That and, 'oh crap Jingles is eyeing my legs'!
I was going to be the laughing stock of the Joe team for the next few months I just knew it. The cross-dressing jokes are going to be flying fast and furious.
Well...was I in for a surprise!
First off, when we arrived I scanned the bar only to discover about 90% of the male patrons were dressed in similar garb. Huge sigh of relief.
But more unexpected than that was Alison's reaction.
I tensed as she approached me from the other side of the room, stopping short as she took in my new look. I braced for laughter...but it never came. Instead, I looked up and saw something burning in her eyes...something I had rarely seen before. Was it? It was!
Desire.
I swallowed hard as she licked her lips while she looked me up and down. For a moment I didn't quite no what to do, but it soon passed and I decided to take advantage of the situation with a little teasing.
"I bet your itching to find out if I am wearing anything underneath..." I smirked as I saw her eyes darken. That smile certainly disappeared quickly when I heard her reply.
"Is that an invitation?"
To say that I was thrown off by this would be a gross understatement. I mean you have to understand...up until that night she had shot me down every chance she got. We were friends, and although I continued to flirt, I was just getting comfortable with this kind of relationship. I had never had a girl who was 'just a friend' before...it took me a while to adapt.
Now she had thrown out a curve ball and I wasn't quite sure how to react. Mind you, she didn't give me much of a chance as she turned and headed back over to our table before I could reply.
We all had a wonderful time, however. Good music, dancing, drinking...her cousins were a blast. Super sense of humor and very easy to get along with. It was obvious that the three of them were very close...almost like brothers and sister...complete with the sibling tendency to tease and roughhouse.
Jaye's unusual behavior continued on and off for the rest of the night. I would catch her staring and me from across the table, and then once, while I was chatting up a red head at the bar, she came over to order drinks and muttered something under her breath in Gaelic before sauntering back to the others.
As she was leaving, the girl...who I am sure I would have charmed into my parlor given a little more time...looked at me oddly and made her excuses before wandering off. The bartender just laughed as he poured me another Guiness.
"Ach...laddie...that lass of yours has got ye on a short leash..."
"Leash? No...I don't think so...and she's not my lass. She's just a friend...a worki..."
He cut me off with a broad smile.
"Believe what ye will, lad...but the Lady Burnett just staked her claim as bold as brass. Being a gentlemen I willna repeat what she just said to the Daergh that left, but I dona think ye will have much company tonight!"
Needless to say I sought Allie out immediately, and was swept onto the dance floor as soon as I reached her side. Now, I am not a bad dancer, but Jaye...she is something to watch! Professionally trained from the moment she was able to walk, the woman moved with a grace and fluidity that mesmerized. Dancing WITH her was even better...there was something sensual...almost sexual...about how we moved to the music.
Somehow I found my voice.
"What did you say to that woman?"
"Which one?"
"You know which one! You said something to her and she took off like a bat out of hell..."
"Did you ever think that maybe it was your sorry lines which drove her off..."
"Hey...my material is tried, tested and true. No...the bartender said you scared her off. "
"She's not your type."
"Not my TYPE? Since when have you taken an interest in who I chose to date..."
"...sleep with..."
"whatever...although thanks to you I am most probably going to be sleeping alone tonight."
At that she smiled mysteriously.
"Don't count on it."
"Wha!?" but she was off with Sgt Day before I could get another word out.
I didn't get a chance to confront her for the rest of the evening, as we were both too busy dancing and mingling with the locals...but the bartender had been right. I couldn't get any of the other female patrons to even flirt with me. Irksome to say the least, but at that point I was too distracted by my partner.
She looked beautiful that night. Who am I kidding, she always looks great, even in cammies...but that evening the sudden change in her attitude made her all the more appealing. Look, I'm a guy...opportunity was knocking and god knows I certainly wasn't going to turn away.
That said, as I walked her back to her room, I couldn't stop repeating the same lines over and over again in my head.
"She's just a friend...it's the alcohol talking...don't screw this up, Faireborn...keep it in your pants... be a gentleman for once in your life."
I tried... I really, really did...but she pulled out the big guns as I turned to leave her at her door and I knew I was as good as gone.
"So what ARE you wearing underneath that kilt?" she smiled a sultry smile as she moved towards me, and before I knew it we were rolling around naked in her bedroom.
And so began the physical side of our relationship. I recall being a pleasantly surprised by her confidence in the bedroom. I guess I always thought she was a bit of a prude. She did have a short moment of indecision and shyness right at the beginning, probably because I was too shocked to react to her sudden and very forward advanced...but that ended as soon as I collected myself enough to turn the tables and become the aggressor.
It was a wild ride...and from that evening forth it has been just her and me. It wasn't planned that way. I made it very clear, as I always do, that this was temporary... light ...not commitment...just for fun, and she agreed. I honestly thought that it would fizzle out the moment we touched down at the PITT after the mission...that we would go back to being just friends.
It never did...and eventually, one terrible, wonderful night in the Caribbean...it ceased to be just sex and became something much, much more.
I guess you might call it the 'point of no return', but I think that happened more recently, and that is a moment I would rather not recall...
She is mumbling something in her sleep and I just bent over to kiss softly on the head. I know I am not going to be able to rest tonight. Lifeline might have convinced the others that it was just a mild concussion and that she could sleep safely now that he has done the proper tests, but I remain skeptical. Jaye NEVER shows pain...ever...she's like me that way. For her to fall over in that hallway meant something serious was wrong. If I have to I am going to stand watch over her until the sun comes up.
Sigh*
Duke was right, Fairborn...you are going soft.
At least I have something to read. I should pick up Kundera before this Gabaldon chick messes with my literary sensibilities.
...and I will...right after I finish this chapter...