One kiss for Francisco, one for Dario, one for Estaban, one for Isabel, and one for Lorena. One kiss for his forgotten father, one for the father who left him. Move down from his lips and kiss where lips start and chin begins. Kiss for the education he never had. Run your hands through his hair for the family he wishes still knew him. Move to the left and kiss up his jaw for the street rats he's never been able to help.

Run your fingers through his hair again for the faith he holds so blindly, let your fingers go down to the shirt collar and move them to the front, go over the frayed edges. Help him forget. Let your kisses trail down his neck for the faith that you both grasp to in desperation. Let your fingers caress the buttons suggestively for these acts that keep you in confessional for far to many Sundays.

Gently un do the top button letting your fingers brush over the skin, teasing him, let your lips rest at his collar bone and look up at him. Kiss the sensitive flesh because no one else would before you. Let your fingers and mouth catch his, telling him how much you care, even if you can not ever speak the words aloud.

Let his hands fall from their place nestled in your hair to the curve of your breasts and moving over them, teasing you, telling you that he thanks you for doing this with out words being necessary. His fingers make quick work of your buttons, and you smile remembering the first clumsy time you two were together. His first your, well god knows how many. He starts to kiss you and you tick off each of his kisses.

One kiss for your abdula, one for your mama, one for your aunts back in Spain, one for the rosary you always have. His kisses go slowly but surly down, morning for the fact your father was the first to have you. He gently peels your shirt off and you shrug it off, it falls neglected on the bed. His hands unlace your corset and he kisses the skin that is left above it, Because of every night he wasn't the one in your bed.

You reach down and with one hand undo his buttons, kissing every inch of exposed flesh because of the nights that he was alone. His fingers are pulling out your strings quickly and your corset drops. Surprising you both into smiling, he shrugs out of his shirt as you pull away from the corset. You trail your fingers along his chest because of the nights he wandered the streets. He does the same because of the nights you jumped from bed to bed, running away from jealous wives.

You move your fingers to his pants and he moves to your skirt, for the same reason. To forget the people you were, to discard Adriana Maria Garcia and Socorro Jose Fernando. Two sad people, two people trying to escape. His hands help you, guide you and you hate the world you were born into. Hate the world that made this happen, wonder how god could be good if he did this. But you love him.

You lean down and kiss him, your mouths and tongues meeting in a passionate cycle. Thanking one thing, and it isn't the god that has seemingly abandoned you. Not your friends back home, not the money you might earn someday as this is America. But one thing and one thing only.

Thanking Spot. For taking you in that night and taking you to Manhattan. For making you go back when you ran from your feelings, for letting you use his room for one night. Thanking him to agree to give you away. Thanking him for your new identity, for the fact that he doesn't judge you. For being a protector when you were too stubborn to be protected.

You thank Bumlets silently and pity Socorro. You kiss him sweetly in memory of the boy he once was.

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Disclaimer: I own Magic and Bumlets family, Magic's Grand mother and aunts, Disney owns Spot and Bumlets and I give them Magic's father.

Author's notes: Dude, Look I can still write! I'm just going through a really hard time in my life. I feel like an untalented dolt (Like I always do around performance times) and there is a lot of shit going on about the war and my step family and my friends. I'm really worried about two of them in particular. So can ya send some prayers/ whatever you do to them?? Its really getting hard for me to write, especially with the very few reviews I have gotten as of late. So please, I can not stress enough review, please for me?

Cards On:

Peace: We need more of it.