Thanks for all of the nice feedback so far, you guys! Tpel, I never really watched "Buffy" (only saw it once), but the storyline with Spike sounds interesting.
*******************************************************************************************************
Chapter 2
"You have things to say to me?" he said, surprised, his eyes wide. "Like what?"
"Don't you know?" she said.
He shook his head. "No."
"Oh," she said. She laughed, embarrassed. "I keep thinking you can read my mind or something." He stared at her silently. "Robert?"
"Still here."
"I know," she said, her face flushed. "I see you, but I just don't know how this works--"
"Lizzie, you keep thinking I do. I don't know what I'm doing."
"Oh."
"You sound disappointed," he said, slightly amused.
"Well, I just thought--"
"With death comes wisdom?" he finished for her.
"Something like that," she admitted.
"Maybe I can read your mind after all," he joked.
"You're enjoying this, aren't you."
"Not really," he said defensively. "You think this is what I want?"
"No," she said. "No, I don't. I'm so sorry--"
"Don't," he said firmly. "Don't say that."
"I know. I'm sorr- I'm -"
"Yes," he said, nodding. "I know."
She nodded.
"Can I sit down?" he said.
"Of course!" she said. "Sorry. I mean, please, sit down."
"Thank you." He sat down on the couch and she sat down on the other end.
"Robert," she started. "Oh. Can I get you, anything?" She felt awkward. She didn't know if ghosts drank coffee, tea, anything, and she didn't want to ask him, because he'd say again that he didn't know how it worked.
"No. Thanks."
"Okay," she said. She looked at him. His deep brown eyes seemed to burn a hole in her soul. She couldn't believe they'd ever been apart. He was so close. At the same time, he felt distant, disconnected. Elizabeth felt a chill run over her. Maybe soon he'd be gone, and she'd never see him again, he'd be just a memory, a photograph, a lost piece of her past.
"Lizzie, you okay?"
"Yes."
"I'm sorry," he said. "Should I not have come here?"
"No. Yes. You should have, I mean. I'm glad you did."
"I feel like I'm freaking you out," he said. She laughed nervously. "Am I?"
"A little," Elizabeth said. She smiled sympathetically. "I don't mean to hurt your feelings. I'm sure it's natural, the way I feel."
"None of this is natural."
"No," she agreed. "It isn't." She felt that chill again, and ran her hands over her arms to warm them.
Robert noticed what she was doing and looked down at the ground. He looked back up at her, sadly. "I guess I don't know what I'm doing here," he said.
"I do," she said. He looked at her, waiting. "Unfinished business?"
"Well, yeah, but--" he broke off, shrugging. "I don't know what to say. I thought I did, but then it goes away."
"Well, maybe it will come to you," she said.
"Maybe." he said. "So, what did you want to say? You said you had things to say, to me."
"Yes," she said.
There was a long pause.
He smiled. "Well, Lizzie - any time you're ready."
"Okay," she said. She smiled a little and he smiled back.
More silence.
She reached out her right hand, and stroked his left cheek. He stared at her, surprised, but didn't say anything. "Robert," she said, her hand still on his cheek. "Do you remember that night in the hospital, when you touched my face?"
"I could never forget that," he said. "As long as I live," and he let out a little half-laugh.
"I could never forget it either," she said. "Robert, when you touched me that night, I felt so strange."
"I said I was sorry for that," he said hurriedly. "I was having a weak moment. I wasn't trying to take advantage of you."
"No," she said. "I don't mean I felt strange like I didn't like it."
"Oh."
"I just wasn't prepared for it," she said. "That time - that was a strange time. Mark had just died. It felt like he had just died, anyway. I was a widow - I still am, but at that time, it seemed so recent. I didn't feel like a single woman, like someone who should be touched. So when you touched me, I felt like it wasn't right. Not that it was wrong, but that it wasn't right." She looked at him. "I'm not explaining this very well, am I?"
"Go on," he said wearily.
"Are you sure you want to hear this?"
"Yes."
"You look a little tired."
"I am tired," he admitted. "Comes with the territory, I guess."
"Right," she said. "Well. So, anyway, it just felt odd. I had to escape, so I did."
"You said you were being paged," he said.
"Right, I had a page," she said slowly. "Mostly though, I was in shock. So I went out of the room, and stood against the wall."
"I saw you," he said. "I felt like the biggest heel. I wanted to come out and tell you I was sorry, but I didn't think you'd want to talk to me."
"Robert, I wasn't mad," she said. "I was - overwhelmed, and when I stood outside the lounge, I felt dizzy. My heart was pounding, and my cheeks were so hot. I thought about going back in to see you--"
"Because you felt sorry for me," he said.
"No," she said. "No, I didn't. I mean, I did, but it was a lot more than that. I wanted to be with you. But I didn't, and yet I did. Do you understand?"
"I don't know," he said. "Not really, I guess."
"I had a thought that night," she said, "That I wanted you, but I pushed it away. Because I was married. Widowed, but I still felt like I was married. Anything else seemed out of place. Everyone felt so sorry for me, the poor widow, the single mother. Going trick or treating, without the farmer."
"The what?"
"The farmer," she said, and laughed. "Mark was the farmer."
"Oh."
"It's hard to explain," she said. "I loved Mark, I really did, but that night in the lounge, with you, I felt something I'd never felt with anyone else before. When you touched me, I felt this electric spark, and just for a moment, I thought we should be together. Then it went away, and I felt overwhelmed and ashamed."
"Ashamed," he repeated quietly. "I see."
"No, you don't see," she said. "I had this idea in my head of what I needed, and I couldn't let it go. With you, I had this feeling of, 'This can't be happening,' so I didn't let it happen."
He stared at her.
"I wanted you," she said.
"But then you didn't."
"But then I did." She put her hands on his shoulders. He turned his face away from her, looking downward. "Robert, look at me."
"No," he said, his lip trembling. "I don't want to. None of this matters anymore, Lizzie, I don't know why I thought it did--"
"It does matter, Robert," she said firmly. She tried to look him in the eyes but he still wouldn't look at her. "It does!"
"It's too late," he said, starting to cry. He looked at her, then put his hand up to his face, and brushed the tears away. "I'd do anything to change things, but I can't, I never can--"
"Come here," she said softly, and she pressed his body against hers in a gentle embrace. "I think it helps to talk about these things, to get them out, finally. If that's all we have - then we should take it, right?" He didn't answer. "I have more things to tell you, if you want to hear them."
"I don't know," he said. "Not right now."
"Robert, I think you have things to tell me too. That's what you came here for, isn't it?"
"The words don't come," he said. "I don't know what to say. I wanted to talk to you, but now I don't know how."
"Okay."
"And I can't listen any more to these confessions of yours," he said. "I'm too tired. I didn't know I'd be so tired."
"Maybe coming here has made you tired," she said. "Seeing me, re-living things you didn't think you would."
"Maybe," he said.
"So, is that it?" she said, disappointed. "Are you going to leave now?" He started to open his mouth but she stopped him. "Please don't leave."
"Lizzie--"
"I need you," she said. "I need you to stay."
"Okay," he said. "I'm really tired though. I think I need to lie down."
"Oh," she said. "Are you going to---"
"Sleep?" he said. "Believe it or not, yes. I know it doesn't seem like a very ghostly thing to do, but I'm exhausted, and I don't know all the rules."
"Okay."
"Is it?" he said. "You look scared."
"Will you wake up?" she said, her eyes wide with worry.
"I think so," he said. "I told you, I don't really know how this works."
She nodded, looking anxious.
"But I know that if I don't get some rest, I'm not going to make it," he said with a little laugh. "I'll tell you what, I'll sleep right here, on this little couch."
"I have a guest room," she said weakly. "You'll be more comfortable--"
"Nah," he said, waving her off. "This is fine." He looked at her, his eyes large. "Don't worry, Lizzie."
"I'm trying not to," she said, with a small smile.
"You get some rest too," he said. "Good night."
"Good night," she said. He smiled at her, closed his eyes, and was asleep instantly. She looked at the sleeping face and felt a wave of tenderness wash over her. She went to the hall closet, took out an afghan, and laid it over his sleeping form. She didn't know if he needed it, but it seemed wrong to her to leave him sleeping uncovered, ghost or not. She got a pillow, and placed it under his head. She felt his quiet, even breathing.
"Robert," she whispered. He continued to sleep. A tear trickled down her cheek. She hoped that in the morning he'd be awake, and would be better able to talk to her. She felt instinctively that their time wasn't up yet, and that they both had a lot more to say.
More soon......
*******************************************************************************************************
Chapter 2
"You have things to say to me?" he said, surprised, his eyes wide. "Like what?"
"Don't you know?" she said.
He shook his head. "No."
"Oh," she said. She laughed, embarrassed. "I keep thinking you can read my mind or something." He stared at her silently. "Robert?"
"Still here."
"I know," she said, her face flushed. "I see you, but I just don't know how this works--"
"Lizzie, you keep thinking I do. I don't know what I'm doing."
"Oh."
"You sound disappointed," he said, slightly amused.
"Well, I just thought--"
"With death comes wisdom?" he finished for her.
"Something like that," she admitted.
"Maybe I can read your mind after all," he joked.
"You're enjoying this, aren't you."
"Not really," he said defensively. "You think this is what I want?"
"No," she said. "No, I don't. I'm so sorry--"
"Don't," he said firmly. "Don't say that."
"I know. I'm sorr- I'm -"
"Yes," he said, nodding. "I know."
She nodded.
"Can I sit down?" he said.
"Of course!" she said. "Sorry. I mean, please, sit down."
"Thank you." He sat down on the couch and she sat down on the other end.
"Robert," she started. "Oh. Can I get you, anything?" She felt awkward. She didn't know if ghosts drank coffee, tea, anything, and she didn't want to ask him, because he'd say again that he didn't know how it worked.
"No. Thanks."
"Okay," she said. She looked at him. His deep brown eyes seemed to burn a hole in her soul. She couldn't believe they'd ever been apart. He was so close. At the same time, he felt distant, disconnected. Elizabeth felt a chill run over her. Maybe soon he'd be gone, and she'd never see him again, he'd be just a memory, a photograph, a lost piece of her past.
"Lizzie, you okay?"
"Yes."
"I'm sorry," he said. "Should I not have come here?"
"No. Yes. You should have, I mean. I'm glad you did."
"I feel like I'm freaking you out," he said. She laughed nervously. "Am I?"
"A little," Elizabeth said. She smiled sympathetically. "I don't mean to hurt your feelings. I'm sure it's natural, the way I feel."
"None of this is natural."
"No," she agreed. "It isn't." She felt that chill again, and ran her hands over her arms to warm them.
Robert noticed what she was doing and looked down at the ground. He looked back up at her, sadly. "I guess I don't know what I'm doing here," he said.
"I do," she said. He looked at her, waiting. "Unfinished business?"
"Well, yeah, but--" he broke off, shrugging. "I don't know what to say. I thought I did, but then it goes away."
"Well, maybe it will come to you," she said.
"Maybe." he said. "So, what did you want to say? You said you had things to say, to me."
"Yes," she said.
There was a long pause.
He smiled. "Well, Lizzie - any time you're ready."
"Okay," she said. She smiled a little and he smiled back.
More silence.
She reached out her right hand, and stroked his left cheek. He stared at her, surprised, but didn't say anything. "Robert," she said, her hand still on his cheek. "Do you remember that night in the hospital, when you touched my face?"
"I could never forget that," he said. "As long as I live," and he let out a little half-laugh.
"I could never forget it either," she said. "Robert, when you touched me that night, I felt so strange."
"I said I was sorry for that," he said hurriedly. "I was having a weak moment. I wasn't trying to take advantage of you."
"No," she said. "I don't mean I felt strange like I didn't like it."
"Oh."
"I just wasn't prepared for it," she said. "That time - that was a strange time. Mark had just died. It felt like he had just died, anyway. I was a widow - I still am, but at that time, it seemed so recent. I didn't feel like a single woman, like someone who should be touched. So when you touched me, I felt like it wasn't right. Not that it was wrong, but that it wasn't right." She looked at him. "I'm not explaining this very well, am I?"
"Go on," he said wearily.
"Are you sure you want to hear this?"
"Yes."
"You look a little tired."
"I am tired," he admitted. "Comes with the territory, I guess."
"Right," she said. "Well. So, anyway, it just felt odd. I had to escape, so I did."
"You said you were being paged," he said.
"Right, I had a page," she said slowly. "Mostly though, I was in shock. So I went out of the room, and stood against the wall."
"I saw you," he said. "I felt like the biggest heel. I wanted to come out and tell you I was sorry, but I didn't think you'd want to talk to me."
"Robert, I wasn't mad," she said. "I was - overwhelmed, and when I stood outside the lounge, I felt dizzy. My heart was pounding, and my cheeks were so hot. I thought about going back in to see you--"
"Because you felt sorry for me," he said.
"No," she said. "No, I didn't. I mean, I did, but it was a lot more than that. I wanted to be with you. But I didn't, and yet I did. Do you understand?"
"I don't know," he said. "Not really, I guess."
"I had a thought that night," she said, "That I wanted you, but I pushed it away. Because I was married. Widowed, but I still felt like I was married. Anything else seemed out of place. Everyone felt so sorry for me, the poor widow, the single mother. Going trick or treating, without the farmer."
"The what?"
"The farmer," she said, and laughed. "Mark was the farmer."
"Oh."
"It's hard to explain," she said. "I loved Mark, I really did, but that night in the lounge, with you, I felt something I'd never felt with anyone else before. When you touched me, I felt this electric spark, and just for a moment, I thought we should be together. Then it went away, and I felt overwhelmed and ashamed."
"Ashamed," he repeated quietly. "I see."
"No, you don't see," she said. "I had this idea in my head of what I needed, and I couldn't let it go. With you, I had this feeling of, 'This can't be happening,' so I didn't let it happen."
He stared at her.
"I wanted you," she said.
"But then you didn't."
"But then I did." She put her hands on his shoulders. He turned his face away from her, looking downward. "Robert, look at me."
"No," he said, his lip trembling. "I don't want to. None of this matters anymore, Lizzie, I don't know why I thought it did--"
"It does matter, Robert," she said firmly. She tried to look him in the eyes but he still wouldn't look at her. "It does!"
"It's too late," he said, starting to cry. He looked at her, then put his hand up to his face, and brushed the tears away. "I'd do anything to change things, but I can't, I never can--"
"Come here," she said softly, and she pressed his body against hers in a gentle embrace. "I think it helps to talk about these things, to get them out, finally. If that's all we have - then we should take it, right?" He didn't answer. "I have more things to tell you, if you want to hear them."
"I don't know," he said. "Not right now."
"Robert, I think you have things to tell me too. That's what you came here for, isn't it?"
"The words don't come," he said. "I don't know what to say. I wanted to talk to you, but now I don't know how."
"Okay."
"And I can't listen any more to these confessions of yours," he said. "I'm too tired. I didn't know I'd be so tired."
"Maybe coming here has made you tired," she said. "Seeing me, re-living things you didn't think you would."
"Maybe," he said.
"So, is that it?" she said, disappointed. "Are you going to leave now?" He started to open his mouth but she stopped him. "Please don't leave."
"Lizzie--"
"I need you," she said. "I need you to stay."
"Okay," he said. "I'm really tired though. I think I need to lie down."
"Oh," she said. "Are you going to---"
"Sleep?" he said. "Believe it or not, yes. I know it doesn't seem like a very ghostly thing to do, but I'm exhausted, and I don't know all the rules."
"Okay."
"Is it?" he said. "You look scared."
"Will you wake up?" she said, her eyes wide with worry.
"I think so," he said. "I told you, I don't really know how this works."
She nodded, looking anxious.
"But I know that if I don't get some rest, I'm not going to make it," he said with a little laugh. "I'll tell you what, I'll sleep right here, on this little couch."
"I have a guest room," she said weakly. "You'll be more comfortable--"
"Nah," he said, waving her off. "This is fine." He looked at her, his eyes large. "Don't worry, Lizzie."
"I'm trying not to," she said, with a small smile.
"You get some rest too," he said. "Good night."
"Good night," she said. He smiled at her, closed his eyes, and was asleep instantly. She looked at the sleeping face and felt a wave of tenderness wash over her. She went to the hall closet, took out an afghan, and laid it over his sleeping form. She didn't know if he needed it, but it seemed wrong to her to leave him sleeping uncovered, ghost or not. She got a pillow, and placed it under his head. She felt his quiet, even breathing.
"Robert," she whispered. He continued to sleep. A tear trickled down her cheek. She hoped that in the morning he'd be awake, and would be better able to talk to her. She felt instinctively that their time wasn't up yet, and that they both had a lot more to say.
More soon......