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AUTHOR'S NOTE:
This Chapter corresponds to Chapter 8 in the story.
Chapter 7 is rated M for Mature Situations and is stored as a gap filler story under the M Rating.
To find Chapter 7, go to the Main GAH Story List and sort for "M Rating" using the drop-down menu at the upper right.
The story continues here.
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"Damn it."
Her eyelids fluttered open and she blinked up in confusion.
"That's what a girl likes to hear first thing in the morning," she said to the ceiling. "A good, hearty 'damn it.'"
She sat up and found Bill sitting at the edge of the bed holding his injured side with his opposite hand.
"Hey," she said, scooting across the sheets to kneel at his side. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," he said, his voice gruff. "Just stiffened up while I was sleeping. With busted ribs, I usually manage to get up a couple of times during the night and work out the kinks, but, well…"
He shot her a look over his shoulder.
"I guess I was too worn out," he said.
He flexed his shoulders and grimaced.
Pam pursed her lips.
"Okay," she said. "I'm going to choose to think you just need coffee and you'll be human again in a few minutes."
"Yeah, yeah, sorry," he said, running his fingers through his tousled hair. "The blinding pain is making me a little cranky. Plus I was trying to get up early and get the awkward leaving bit over with while you were still half asleep in case you wanted to pass it off as a really vivid dream."
Pam exhaled slowly. Then she scooted to the foot of the bed and fished around among the scattered clothing there. She held up a navy blue t-shirt, torn neatly down the middle.
"I think the ship sailed on the dream thing about the time I did this," she said.
She saw him struggle to keep from smiling and lose the fight.
He grinned.
"Lady," he said. "You're an animal."
"Thank you," she said, dropping the shirt to the floor. "Now, I'm going to find you some aspirin and make you some coffee."
She slid off the bed and scooped her white silk robe off the floor. Draping it over her arm, she moved toward the door.
"Why don't you freshen up and 'work the kinks out' before I get back," she said. "Then I'd like to talk about how much time I've got left on my night, since I didn't actually manage to wear you down until about 4:30 am."
She walked out into the living room and pulled the bedroom door shut behind her.
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They made love again before breakfast. And almost once again while Pam was searching for another t-shirt for Bill to wear home.
At last they sat at the bar in the living room, Pam pushing the last few bites of french toast around her plate, while Bill took a long pull at his coffee cup.
"Did you get enough to eat?" she said, pushing back her plate.
He nodded.
"I did, I feel a little gypped though," he said.
"Because?"
"Well," he said, leaning back on the high bar stool and adjusting the drape of the white pocket-t she'd found at the back of her closet. "Somebody still owes me a homemade desert."
She grimaced.
"Well, despite the fact," she said, "That a cheesy line like that doesn't deserves any response at all except a loud groan, in the interest of fair play…"
She slid off her stool and fished around among the dusty bottles under the bar. She came up a few seconds later with an ancient bottle of maraschino cherries.
With a sharp twist and the 'pop' of the vacuum being released, she pulled off the top of the jar and scooped out a sticky red cherry.
She stuck out her tongue and balanced the cherry neatly on the end.
Bill looked at her for a long moment.
"What," he said, "No whipped cream?"
The cherry bounced away across the carpet as she dissolved in a fit of giggles.
He watched it roll under the sofa.
"Uh, sorry about the carpet again," he said. "I'm really not safe to have in here."
"I'm moving soon anyway," she said, sitting back on the stool with a sigh. "But shame on you for making me laugh when I'm trying to be sexy. That's not fair."
"Beautiful," he said, sliding off the stool and coming around the bar. "The day you have to try to be sexy…"
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They woke again to the sound of the phone ringing in the kitchen.
"Oh, damn," she said, sitting up and shooting a glance at the clock radio by the bed.
"I'm not gonna say a word," Bill said, levering himself up on his elbows. "Although you know I could."
"Just stay put," she said, "Don't move until I get back, it's really important."
She grabbed her robe off the foot of the bed and slipped it over her shoulders as she dashed toward the kitchen.
When she reappeared in the doorway a few minutes later, Bill still lay in the bed, a vaguely apprehensive look on his face.
She rolled her eyes.
"Don't panic," she said. "I haven't decided I should leave Ralph and run off with you."
He raised an eyebrow, but didn't move.
She cocked her head to the side.
"I've had this picture in my mind for a while now," she said, "And I'd like to have a real memory to go with it.
The stared at one another across the room for a long moment, then Pam felt a wide smile spread across her face. In answer, Bill grinned back.
"There," she said, smiling. "That's it. That's it exactly. Now you can get dressed."
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They rode down in the elevator a half hour later. Pam's hair was still wet from the shower.
"I'd ask you to go with me to pick him up," she said, "But…"
"Yeah, no," he said, nodding, "Let's not do that. It would be too…."
"Right," she said.
The elevator chimed and the doors slid open on the ground floor.
They walked out to the parking lot in silence.
He walked her to her Beetle and waited while she fished the keys out of her purse.
"So tell Ralph, Merry Christmas for me," he said.
"I will."
She paused, looking down into her bag. She looked up at him and he cocked an eyebrow.
"Lose your keys?" he said.
"No, I-"
She took a deep breath and reached into her purse.
"This is kind of corny, I know, but…"
She pulled out a square of red silk.
"I found this while I was looking for another shirt for you and…"
She took a breath and pushed the piece of fabric into the pocket of his t-shirt. The corners stuck out in an approximation of a pocket handkerchief.
"For the chivalric Guiomar," she murmured.
He didn't speak, but his eyes were shining as he bent and gave her a long, lingering kiss.
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Pam stood at the arrivals gate waiting for Ralph's plane.
At last the boarding gate doors opened and the first passengers trailed out into the lounge. Soon there were cries of welcome and hugs all around the room.
Ralph was among the last to debark. When his butter-blond curls appeared in the doorway, Pam was gratified to feel a swell of love in her chest.
He grinned and waved, trotting across the space to sweep her up in a fierce hug.
"Oh, I missed you," he said, burying his face in her hair. "Mmm, let's go celebrate Christmas. My place or yours?"
"Yours," she said, "Let's go to yours."
"Sounds good," he said.
He adjusted the strap of his overnight bag and looped an arm around her waist.
"Maybe later tonight we can start working on clearing some space for your things," he said, leading her out into the terminal.
"I'd like that," she said, giving his waist a tight squeeze.
"Oh, how was your evening with Bill?" he said as the stepped out into the tiled breezeway. "Everybody come out unscathed?"
"Um, not exactly," she said and proceeded to give him a slightly edited version of the events at Abrazo.
"Wow," he said when she finished the story. "That was all last night?"
"Uh, huh," she said, pushing open the door to the parking deck.
"That's Bill," he said. "Nothing's ever simple."
"No," she said quietly. "It sure isn't."
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- continued -
el Tango de Los Angeles
(Tango of the Angels)