To the Moon and Back
A/N: Sorry for my long absence...glad you all enjoyed chapter seven. I really have no excuse for my long lack of an update...other than the fact that inspiration had simply left me. It's been so long since I've seen the movie, and I'm working on memory here, people. That, and this story is almost finished, so I'm having trouble letting go. :) And I am sorry if I disappointed anyone in the last chapter...but it all needed to be done. Now, on to the story!
Disclaimer: See chapter one. (sigh) We all know I own nothing but Eve. And Mike. But do I really wanna own Mike? No. (shudders).
A/N 2: Important! This chapter contains violence....just an advance warning. It isn't anything graphic (at least I don't think it is), so it shouldn't be too bad. Just letting you know.
Chapter Eight
Eve had been worth the trouble, as he had well found out that night. Don Juan smiled wryly at his reflection in the mirror. But there was something else....he rubbed his eyes, his fingers clenching around the mask in his right hand. He'd revealed it all to her. And she had left. Albeit, she had gone with a smile, and a promise to see him again in the afternoon when she got home from work...but he could feel the tension between them. And it wasn't the kind of tension he encouraged.
Falling into his chair by the window, John Marco stared out across the busy streets, to the small public park across the avenue. He couldn't understand why it bothered him so much. It wasn't like he loved her....Eve was just another notch on his belt....right? His brows furrowed. That was the problem. He couldn't understand his own feelings for her. He'd only been in love once...and it had burned him so badly he thought he'd never recover long enough to pick up his old lifestyle. Eve had proven that wrong, and he'd been able to charm and bed her without any nagging love pangs....until now.
But it wasn't love. It couldn't be, he told himself. It didn't feel the same as it had with Doña Ana. He bit his lower lip in concentration, trying to figure it all out. He knew he did feel something for Evelyn...why else would it have hurt when she had left after he told her his entire life story? She had seemed to accept him....hell, she had acted as if she were in love with him! He stood, then, anger radiating off of him.
Had she been playing him all along? Had he tempted and seduced her to no avail? Was she....the thoughts ceased abruptly. No, it wasn't possible. His Evelyn was too innocent and naïve to do something so wicked. Although she'd been plenty wicked that night in his arms....Don Juan shook his head with a smile. Was it impossible for him to stop thinking of her like that?
He loved her, he knew. But it was in the way he always loved women. They were beautiful treasures, each one unique. Eve was no different than the rest, in that respect. He'd shown her love, and when she'd had her fill, he'd move on. Again, his brow furrowed and he slipped back into the chair. He couldn't bring himself to think about moving on....and that scared him more than anything in his messed up past ever had. Could it be possible that he was falling in love?
Eve shut the door quietly behind her, sighing as she leaned against the cool wood. She'd just had the most amazing night of her life, with a man that she knew she loved, and then he'd come out and told her his life story. True, it had been a bit fantastic....a little to fantastic....but she believed him nonetheless. Why would he have a reason to lie to her? Eve bit her lip and tucked her hair behind her ear, looking across the small hallway into the mirror above the mail stand. She hadn't seen herself with her hair down in a long time; had she always looked this different with it down?
Running her fingers through the strands, she walked into the living room, setting herself down on the couch. She'd gone into work, and then come home. She had promised Don Juan...or was it John Marco?...that she'd go to visit him when she got off. But something had made her come home instead. Eve sighed, leaning her head back. She didn't regret last night, and she certainly wasn't afraid to see him again....her whole body ached with a need to be touched by him again.
To hear his soft, accented words, to feel his lips against hers....and to watch the sunrise through his window, and the play of light across his face. Eve smiled, hugging her arms close to her body, remembering everything as if she were still there. Why wasn't she there? Her eyes snapped open and she frowned. For once, she agreed with her voice. She had no reason to avoid him. Except for the awkward silence she had left him in. Eve paused mid-rise, her brow furrowing in contemplation. What if he didn't really want her to come back? What if he was sighing with relief that she wasn't there at that moment, pestering him with her presence.
She sank back into the couch, eyes sliding shut once more. Realization had hit her, and it stung.
Their roles had reversed.
She was the one pursuing him now. She was the one who had put the moves on him, she was the one who had begged him not to stop. She was the one who was solely responsible for creating the idea that he might even dream of loving her. Eve covered her face with her hand, fighting back a sob. She'd been so stupid! How could she even imagine that this....this wonderful man could ever love her? He could have anyone he wanted. What was so special about her?
Eve pulled her knees to her chest, resting her head against them. It wasn't that she didn't want him to love her. She just didn't want to get hurt, again. Her life had finally settled into a normal, everyday routine. Then she'd met Dr. Mickler, and then Don Juan, and now....now, Eve didn't know which way was the right way anymore. She'd been so sure last night, but this morning, when he'd gotten upset with her (not that she blamed him. She admitted that she had overreacted.) everything she'd forced herself to accept and adapt to had come crashing down around her.
What was it about him that made her moods switch so drastically? Eve began to chew on her nail, trying to sort everything out in her head. All she wanted was a normal life....right? But what was so special about normality? Security? Safety? When she was little, her dream had been to be princess, or maybe a queen, and to be married to the most handsome prince, or king, in the world. He would love her like no other, and take her for long rides along the beach....
Eve felt a tear slip down her cheek. It had been a stupid dream, made by a silly, naïve little girl who was now buried somewhere deep within. Things like that didn't happen to people like Eve. Why not? That annoying little voice asked. Why don't those things happen to us? Eve glared at herself. Because. But the voice would not be silenced. Give me one good reason. Of course, there was no good reason, but Eve wasn't about to admit that to anyone, let alone a voice that existed only in her head.
The truth is what you make it. Eve bit her lip again, standing up to pace around the room. Even in her arguments with herself she couldn't escape him. You still haven't answered me. The voice persisted. You know it's what you've always wanted. He is what you've always wanted. Eve couldn't argue that. She ran a hand through her hair, contemplating that simple statement. He was what she'd always wanted, and he certainly wasn't normal...so what was keeping her from running to him and accepting his offer? To make the truth her own. It was something that intrigued Eve. She could clearly see what he had turned into truth, and it was his own truth, not the world's, that she had fallen in love with.
She loved Don Juan Demarco, not John Marco. Eve grinned. It suddenly all made sense! The way he had turned around an unhappy life to make something for himself, the way she could escape the hum drum and hide in the shelter of his world and finally free the part of her that was shoved under the image of a modern woman....
Eve wasted no more time in grabbing her keys and leaving the apartment, all the while the voice saying 'I told you so.'
A soft knock on the door jarred Don Juan from his sleep. He opened his eyes slowly, brushing the hair from his face lazily. He'd replaced the mask to his face soon after she'd left, lest he forget that he deserved to wear it for the pains of his past. The knock sounded again, causing him to groan and roll his eyes as he sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. On his way to the door, he glanced at the clock, noting that it was near nine. He'd given up hope hours ago that Eve would actually come through with her promise to visit him, and instead had settled himself in for a nap.
Again, the knock sounded, this time louder and much more demanding. He growled, smoothing out the wrinkles in his clothing. Impatient bastardo, he mentally grumbled, a scowl across his handsome face as he yanked open the front door....and immediately froze, as a strong whiff of alcohol reached his nose.
"What do you want?" He asked, his voice level and calm, though his eyes shone with annoyance and malice.
"Where is she? I know she's here. I told you she was mine, and I meant it!"
Don Juan rolled his eyes and went to slam the door, but Mike stuck his foot in the way, sliding in before the act could be completed. Don Juan's eyes narrowed as he glared at the slightly taller man.
"Get out of my apartment." He ground out. Mike just replied with a sick grin, his eyes glazed over.
"Not until I get Eve." Mike said in a sing-song lilt. He then lifted his hand, a gun pointing straight at Don Juan's face.
Not sure exactly what to do or say in response, Don Juan backed up slowly, hoping he was remembering it's location correctly. In the meantime, he had to keep Mike distracted. The less the man knew about Don Juan's newly formed plan, the better.
"I cannot help you with that. You see, the fair Doña Evelyn is not here." Don Juan said, his hand moving behind his body as he backed away slowly toward the side cupboard.
"You lie! I know she's here! I can smell her!"
Don Juan raised a brow at that comment. This man was simply obsessed. There was no other word for the madness that consumed the man before him....who was steadily advancing, his hold on the gun unwavering.
"She was here," Don Juan said, his fingers grasping the handle of the door. He pulled it open slowly, sliding his hand inside to grip the familiar leather and steel. "But as I said, Doña Evelyn has already left."
"Liar!!" Mike bellowed, his fist coming up to connect with Don Juan's jaw. Or, it would have, had Don Juan not used the moment to duck, yank his sword out of it's scabbard, and jump back up. The blade connected with Mike's gun, sending the weapon flying out of range. Mike growled, moving toward his gun, but the edge of the blade against his throat ceased his attempts.
"I told you once, and I will tell you again, señor. Get out of my apartment." Don Juan flicked the sword an inch, bringing the steel into contact with Mike's throat. The drunk man let a look of fear pass his face for a moment, before he grinned wickedly, and ducked under the sword for the gun.
Unfortunately for Mike, Don Juan had anticipated, and whirled. The sword arched through the air, slicing through flesh. Mike hissed, clutching his arm as he stumbled back. A long, thin cut ran from shoulder to elbow, the blood slowly beginning to seep out. Mike glared up at Don Juan from his place on the floor, but any further movements were hindered as the tip of the sword was pressed against his throat.
"Surrender." Don Juan said, his chest moving with each breath as he kept his eyes focused completely on his enemy. How dare he? He had no right to come barging into the apartment, demanding Eve. She was his Eve...not this mans! At that thought, Don Juan nearly lost control of the situation. Eve was his. A loud crash sent him back to reality, causing both himself and Mike to look at the now open door.
Eve stood there, her eyes wide, mouth open in an 'o' of shock. She'd dropped her cell phone onto the tile floor. Both men stared back at her, Mike with a look of adoration and longing, Don Juan with a look of possession and surprise. Eve just stood there for a few more seconds, before bending down to retrieve her (thankfully) undamaged phone. Punching in a few numbers, she never let her eyes leave the two men. In any other situation, she would have burst out laughing. There was Mike, sprawled on the floor, with blood soaking his t-shirt, with a Spanish nobleman standing over him, holding a sword to his throat. And then there was the gun that was within feet of Mike's hand. In all honesty, Eve was just grateful that she wasn't fainting.
"Eve, darling, I can explain...." Mike started. Don Juan rolled his eyes, and using the man's distraction to his advantage, he switched his grip on the sword and smacked Mike over the head with the hilt. Mike slumped back onto the floor, completely unconscious. Placing the sword back in the cupboard, Don Juan turned to face Eve, who had just hung up from the talking to the police. He smiled at her, and held out his hand. Eve, not knowing what else to do, finally gave in and fainted in his doorway.
A/N: Ha! How was that? That's for everyone who wanted a sword fight...and it finally got me over my block as well. Next chapter should be within a week of now...will be within a week from now. :) So sorry for the delay you guys. Promise I won't do it again. (considering there are only two more chapters anyway...)
A/N: Sorry for my long absence...glad you all enjoyed chapter seven. I really have no excuse for my long lack of an update...other than the fact that inspiration had simply left me. It's been so long since I've seen the movie, and I'm working on memory here, people. That, and this story is almost finished, so I'm having trouble letting go. :) And I am sorry if I disappointed anyone in the last chapter...but it all needed to be done. Now, on to the story!
Disclaimer: See chapter one. (sigh) We all know I own nothing but Eve. And Mike. But do I really wanna own Mike? No. (shudders).
A/N 2: Important! This chapter contains violence....just an advance warning. It isn't anything graphic (at least I don't think it is), so it shouldn't be too bad. Just letting you know.
Chapter Eight
Eve had been worth the trouble, as he had well found out that night. Don Juan smiled wryly at his reflection in the mirror. But there was something else....he rubbed his eyes, his fingers clenching around the mask in his right hand. He'd revealed it all to her. And she had left. Albeit, she had gone with a smile, and a promise to see him again in the afternoon when she got home from work...but he could feel the tension between them. And it wasn't the kind of tension he encouraged.
Falling into his chair by the window, John Marco stared out across the busy streets, to the small public park across the avenue. He couldn't understand why it bothered him so much. It wasn't like he loved her....Eve was just another notch on his belt....right? His brows furrowed. That was the problem. He couldn't understand his own feelings for her. He'd only been in love once...and it had burned him so badly he thought he'd never recover long enough to pick up his old lifestyle. Eve had proven that wrong, and he'd been able to charm and bed her without any nagging love pangs....until now.
But it wasn't love. It couldn't be, he told himself. It didn't feel the same as it had with Doña Ana. He bit his lower lip in concentration, trying to figure it all out. He knew he did feel something for Evelyn...why else would it have hurt when she had left after he told her his entire life story? She had seemed to accept him....hell, she had acted as if she were in love with him! He stood, then, anger radiating off of him.
Had she been playing him all along? Had he tempted and seduced her to no avail? Was she....the thoughts ceased abruptly. No, it wasn't possible. His Evelyn was too innocent and naïve to do something so wicked. Although she'd been plenty wicked that night in his arms....Don Juan shook his head with a smile. Was it impossible for him to stop thinking of her like that?
He loved her, he knew. But it was in the way he always loved women. They were beautiful treasures, each one unique. Eve was no different than the rest, in that respect. He'd shown her love, and when she'd had her fill, he'd move on. Again, his brow furrowed and he slipped back into the chair. He couldn't bring himself to think about moving on....and that scared him more than anything in his messed up past ever had. Could it be possible that he was falling in love?
Eve shut the door quietly behind her, sighing as she leaned against the cool wood. She'd just had the most amazing night of her life, with a man that she knew she loved, and then he'd come out and told her his life story. True, it had been a bit fantastic....a little to fantastic....but she believed him nonetheless. Why would he have a reason to lie to her? Eve bit her lip and tucked her hair behind her ear, looking across the small hallway into the mirror above the mail stand. She hadn't seen herself with her hair down in a long time; had she always looked this different with it down?
Running her fingers through the strands, she walked into the living room, setting herself down on the couch. She'd gone into work, and then come home. She had promised Don Juan...or was it John Marco?...that she'd go to visit him when she got off. But something had made her come home instead. Eve sighed, leaning her head back. She didn't regret last night, and she certainly wasn't afraid to see him again....her whole body ached with a need to be touched by him again.
To hear his soft, accented words, to feel his lips against hers....and to watch the sunrise through his window, and the play of light across his face. Eve smiled, hugging her arms close to her body, remembering everything as if she were still there. Why wasn't she there? Her eyes snapped open and she frowned. For once, she agreed with her voice. She had no reason to avoid him. Except for the awkward silence she had left him in. Eve paused mid-rise, her brow furrowing in contemplation. What if he didn't really want her to come back? What if he was sighing with relief that she wasn't there at that moment, pestering him with her presence.
She sank back into the couch, eyes sliding shut once more. Realization had hit her, and it stung.
Their roles had reversed.
She was the one pursuing him now. She was the one who had put the moves on him, she was the one who had begged him not to stop. She was the one who was solely responsible for creating the idea that he might even dream of loving her. Eve covered her face with her hand, fighting back a sob. She'd been so stupid! How could she even imagine that this....this wonderful man could ever love her? He could have anyone he wanted. What was so special about her?
Eve pulled her knees to her chest, resting her head against them. It wasn't that she didn't want him to love her. She just didn't want to get hurt, again. Her life had finally settled into a normal, everyday routine. Then she'd met Dr. Mickler, and then Don Juan, and now....now, Eve didn't know which way was the right way anymore. She'd been so sure last night, but this morning, when he'd gotten upset with her (not that she blamed him. She admitted that she had overreacted.) everything she'd forced herself to accept and adapt to had come crashing down around her.
What was it about him that made her moods switch so drastically? Eve began to chew on her nail, trying to sort everything out in her head. All she wanted was a normal life....right? But what was so special about normality? Security? Safety? When she was little, her dream had been to be princess, or maybe a queen, and to be married to the most handsome prince, or king, in the world. He would love her like no other, and take her for long rides along the beach....
Eve felt a tear slip down her cheek. It had been a stupid dream, made by a silly, naïve little girl who was now buried somewhere deep within. Things like that didn't happen to people like Eve. Why not? That annoying little voice asked. Why don't those things happen to us? Eve glared at herself. Because. But the voice would not be silenced. Give me one good reason. Of course, there was no good reason, but Eve wasn't about to admit that to anyone, let alone a voice that existed only in her head.
The truth is what you make it. Eve bit her lip again, standing up to pace around the room. Even in her arguments with herself she couldn't escape him. You still haven't answered me. The voice persisted. You know it's what you've always wanted. He is what you've always wanted. Eve couldn't argue that. She ran a hand through her hair, contemplating that simple statement. He was what she'd always wanted, and he certainly wasn't normal...so what was keeping her from running to him and accepting his offer? To make the truth her own. It was something that intrigued Eve. She could clearly see what he had turned into truth, and it was his own truth, not the world's, that she had fallen in love with.
She loved Don Juan Demarco, not John Marco. Eve grinned. It suddenly all made sense! The way he had turned around an unhappy life to make something for himself, the way she could escape the hum drum and hide in the shelter of his world and finally free the part of her that was shoved under the image of a modern woman....
Eve wasted no more time in grabbing her keys and leaving the apartment, all the while the voice saying 'I told you so.'
A soft knock on the door jarred Don Juan from his sleep. He opened his eyes slowly, brushing the hair from his face lazily. He'd replaced the mask to his face soon after she'd left, lest he forget that he deserved to wear it for the pains of his past. The knock sounded again, causing him to groan and roll his eyes as he sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. On his way to the door, he glanced at the clock, noting that it was near nine. He'd given up hope hours ago that Eve would actually come through with her promise to visit him, and instead had settled himself in for a nap.
Again, the knock sounded, this time louder and much more demanding. He growled, smoothing out the wrinkles in his clothing. Impatient bastardo, he mentally grumbled, a scowl across his handsome face as he yanked open the front door....and immediately froze, as a strong whiff of alcohol reached his nose.
"What do you want?" He asked, his voice level and calm, though his eyes shone with annoyance and malice.
"Where is she? I know she's here. I told you she was mine, and I meant it!"
Don Juan rolled his eyes and went to slam the door, but Mike stuck his foot in the way, sliding in before the act could be completed. Don Juan's eyes narrowed as he glared at the slightly taller man.
"Get out of my apartment." He ground out. Mike just replied with a sick grin, his eyes glazed over.
"Not until I get Eve." Mike said in a sing-song lilt. He then lifted his hand, a gun pointing straight at Don Juan's face.
Not sure exactly what to do or say in response, Don Juan backed up slowly, hoping he was remembering it's location correctly. In the meantime, he had to keep Mike distracted. The less the man knew about Don Juan's newly formed plan, the better.
"I cannot help you with that. You see, the fair Doña Evelyn is not here." Don Juan said, his hand moving behind his body as he backed away slowly toward the side cupboard.
"You lie! I know she's here! I can smell her!"
Don Juan raised a brow at that comment. This man was simply obsessed. There was no other word for the madness that consumed the man before him....who was steadily advancing, his hold on the gun unwavering.
"She was here," Don Juan said, his fingers grasping the handle of the door. He pulled it open slowly, sliding his hand inside to grip the familiar leather and steel. "But as I said, Doña Evelyn has already left."
"Liar!!" Mike bellowed, his fist coming up to connect with Don Juan's jaw. Or, it would have, had Don Juan not used the moment to duck, yank his sword out of it's scabbard, and jump back up. The blade connected with Mike's gun, sending the weapon flying out of range. Mike growled, moving toward his gun, but the edge of the blade against his throat ceased his attempts.
"I told you once, and I will tell you again, señor. Get out of my apartment." Don Juan flicked the sword an inch, bringing the steel into contact with Mike's throat. The drunk man let a look of fear pass his face for a moment, before he grinned wickedly, and ducked under the sword for the gun.
Unfortunately for Mike, Don Juan had anticipated, and whirled. The sword arched through the air, slicing through flesh. Mike hissed, clutching his arm as he stumbled back. A long, thin cut ran from shoulder to elbow, the blood slowly beginning to seep out. Mike glared up at Don Juan from his place on the floor, but any further movements were hindered as the tip of the sword was pressed against his throat.
"Surrender." Don Juan said, his chest moving with each breath as he kept his eyes focused completely on his enemy. How dare he? He had no right to come barging into the apartment, demanding Eve. She was his Eve...not this mans! At that thought, Don Juan nearly lost control of the situation. Eve was his. A loud crash sent him back to reality, causing both himself and Mike to look at the now open door.
Eve stood there, her eyes wide, mouth open in an 'o' of shock. She'd dropped her cell phone onto the tile floor. Both men stared back at her, Mike with a look of adoration and longing, Don Juan with a look of possession and surprise. Eve just stood there for a few more seconds, before bending down to retrieve her (thankfully) undamaged phone. Punching in a few numbers, she never let her eyes leave the two men. In any other situation, she would have burst out laughing. There was Mike, sprawled on the floor, with blood soaking his t-shirt, with a Spanish nobleman standing over him, holding a sword to his throat. And then there was the gun that was within feet of Mike's hand. In all honesty, Eve was just grateful that she wasn't fainting.
"Eve, darling, I can explain...." Mike started. Don Juan rolled his eyes, and using the man's distraction to his advantage, he switched his grip on the sword and smacked Mike over the head with the hilt. Mike slumped back onto the floor, completely unconscious. Placing the sword back in the cupboard, Don Juan turned to face Eve, who had just hung up from the talking to the police. He smiled at her, and held out his hand. Eve, not knowing what else to do, finally gave in and fainted in his doorway.
A/N: Ha! How was that? That's for everyone who wanted a sword fight...and it finally got me over my block as well. Next chapter should be within a week of now...will be within a week from now. :) So sorry for the delay you guys. Promise I won't do it again. (considering there are only two more chapters anyway...)