A/N: hi all! Sorry for not updating in forever. My computer had been a right bitch so I had to replace it. And the new computer wouldn't read my floppies so I've had to start anew. Well, I'm back!

Disclaimer: I own nothing!

Chapter Eight: Couldn't Wait Any Longer

There she was. Standing a mere three steps from him in tight jeans and a baggy shirt with a ripped collar revealing the straps to a black sports bra, her long hair in a low bun: Meg.She had whispered his name, in a voice he thought was weary, worse for wear. Ray stood there for a moment, making sure it was her. He slowly walked up the few steps that separated them.

What could he say? Ten years of pent up emotions fought for control of his heart. He had so many things he could say. But he couldn't decide what to say. Should he start by saying how much he still loved her, how he still dreamed about having her as his wife? Or how he had been hurt by the long years spent waiting, how he had put his heart and soul into whatever he did just to push the pain away. In a way, he owed it to Meg for his success, he suddenly thought.

"I…" he began, looking at her; "I couldn't wait anymore, Meg."

Meg withheld a sob, and covered her mouth with her hands as her eyes squinted to avoid tears.

"I… Ray," Meg said, so quietly it barely passed as a whisper; "I'm so, so sorry."

They say history repeats itself…

…

And in this case, it does…

And Ray held her, held her close as she fell into him and cried into his shoulder, or more so his chest. She had not grown much since the day she'd left, while Ray seemed to tower over her to a certain degree. He kissed her forehead gently, and sighed as he held his head to her head, to steady her as she had begun to shake with every sob. He wanted to cry with her for some reason, out of happiness and uncertainty, but resisted the urge. He was just content to know that Meg was here, with him.

Meg sniffed and backed away, her hands on Ray's arms as she looked up at him. He smiled kindly and wiped away a tear that was rolling her cheek. She smiled a weak smile but a smile none the less.

"Meg, what's the matter?" Ray asked worriedly, looking from one smoky grey eye to the other. Wait, since when were her eyes grey? What had happened?

Meg shook her head; "Wanna come in?" she asked, stepping away.

"Sure," Ray said, sighing inaudibly as he followed Meg inside.

He took a moment to look around, nodding at the modest beauty it held, and then he followed Meg into the kitchen. She motioned to a stool at the bar, and he sat down. Meg busied her self pulling out a pot and filling it with water. While it did, she went to a cabinet and pulled out a large jar full of leaves soaking in water.

"Mama mailed it up to me," Meg said when she saw Ray staring at the jar; "Her own special tea leaves, the ones she grows in the backyard…"

Ray nodded, and for a moment, there was nothing but awkward silence. Meg moved the pot from the sink to the stove, and set the heat. She turned off the faucet, and then went to the jar. Ray just watched her, her graceful movements around the kitchen capturing his gaze. She picked through the leaves, finding the best. She put them in the pot, and then went into the cabinets again, this time trying to reach the spice rack.

"Here, let me help," Ray said, getting up and walking around the bar.

Meg was standing on her tiptoes, trying to reach the spices. Ray stood over her and got them, setting them down on the counter.

"Thanks," Meg said, blushing as she looked up at him and smiled.

"What are you doin', anyway?" Ray asked, bending down and looking over her shoulder like a small child.

Meg giggled; "Well, I'm makin' mama's special tea," she said quietly.

"Ohh," ray said, nodding; "So, how do you make it?"

"Well, ya start out by boilin' the tea leaves," she said, "Then; you get the vanilla, the ginger… a few other things…"

Ray listened to her explain, though he really didn't pay attention. He was a love struck teenager again, too glad just to hear her voice. He was so weak when it came to her, she had him under his power and she didn't know it. Maybe she did. Maybe she was relishing in it. Or maybe she did know and was ignoring it, embarrassed by such attention. Soon he had to back out of the kitchen though, as she moved the pot off the stove and onto a chopping block. Steam rose into the air, wafting into the air with a pleasant odor. Ray sat back down and watched Meg move around the kitchen, sprinkling this and that into the pot of steaming liquid. After stirring it for a few minutes, she fished the tea leaves out, and then, got two mugs down from a cabinet.

Roberto shifted his weight from one foot to the other anxiously. He watched the large sign explaining arrival and departure times. In one hand he held a bouquet of white lilies, in the other, a precious black box that within held a twelve karot ring. He hummed as he decided to walk around the airport. Hey amused himself with watching people coming in and out of the United States, but quickly lost interest. Finally, he found himself at Gate 34, just in time to watch a plane land, her plane. It wheeled over to the gate, parked, and a staircase was lowered. Passengers began filing out, but Roberto was only there for one.

And then he saw her. Her long brown hair was being blown about her face, her curvaceous figure tightly concealed beneath a tight red dress and a black coat. She walked down the steps in expensive black heels, and Roberto swore he heard her light laughter as she dropped her carry-on bag and a man gave it back to her. Deep red stained her skin as she blushed, but kind words from the man had her laughing soon again

Janette.

Roberto rushed to the entrance, again shifting his weight from foot to foot. He saw people going through the metal detectors, all strangers to his eyes and his heart. But then he heard her call his name. He ran to her and she ran to him, and they embraced.

"Oh, I missed you, mi amor!" Janette said, looking at him and smiling as they parted.

"I missed you too, Janette," Roberto said; "Here, these…" he presented the flowers to her, "Are for you."

She gasped at their beauty, delicately holding the bouquet in her hands; "Ah, mi amor, they muy bonita!" she said, her English mixing with Portuguese as she hugged him again.

Roberto laughed and returned the embrace. When they parted, he took her hands in his, and said in quiet Portuguese; "Janette, I have courted with you for five years. Remember when we met, at my cousin's wedding? I thought, 'she is beautiful, she is amazing' and I knew from right then that you were something special. You have changed me, helped me become a man so that I may be better at caring for you, protecting you, and making you laugh;" At this Janette giggled and blushed, and Roberto smiled more; "And as our time together grew and grew, I realized that you were the one…" he got down on one knee, never losing eye contact.

Janette smiled, tears gathering as her hand covered her mouth. Roberto smiled, then continued; "I wanted to wait and do this at dinner," he said with a nervous laugh; "But I couldn't wait any longer;" he held out the black box, and opened it with one hand. The diamond glittered in the terminal lighting, and Janette gasped. "I want you to be the one I spend the rest of my life with. Will you?"

"Oh, Si, si!" she squealed, and Roberto rose and placed the ring on her left ring finger. He kissed her, and she eagerly kissed back. When they heard clapping, or when it registered, both separated and blushed. Roberto took her hand, and they went off to get her luggage, hurrying past the small crowd that had gathered.

Ray found a mug in front of him, full of a steaming hot amber liquid. The smell was nice, so he took the mug in his hands and sipped. He looked over and Meg was doing the same, leaning against the counter opposite of him.

"So," Ray said, "I uh, saw a boy through the window," he paused, "Uh, I don't want to be rude but… is he…?"

"Mine?" Meg finished, giggling, "No, he's my friends'. I'm just baby sitting," she smiled and shook her head; "Nope, he ain't mine… why?"

Ray shrugged; "Just curious," he said; "I—we… haven't spoken in what seems like forever, Meg…"

"That's my fault," Meg said, looking down; "I… tried to make you forget about me."

"Why?" Ray asked, perplexed.

Meg looked up at him; "To be honest, now I ain't so sure," she said; "At first, I blamed myself for so many things, Ray, and then, I found myself thinkin' 'Why am I here? What did I do?' then I think about all the times I'd messed up, all the trouble I got into at home and at the institute. I thought about what I was-what I am…" she looked away, "I knew—I thought—it was better off. I had to leave…"

Ray got up, and walked over as Meg sat her mug down and wrapped her arms around herself. He embraced her, held her so close and yet so gently. She laid her head against his chest and sighed, overcome again. She closed her eyes, but opened them slowly as she heard Ray whisper in her ear.

"What ever you did in the past, I've probably done so much worse. Whatever you've seen or heard, I've probably heard or seen just as bad. I see you for so much more of you are, so much more than you think you could ever be. I see you in everything and anything, I always have, and no matter what you are or who you become, I will never lose faith that you will see all the things I do…"

A tear slowly escaped Meg's eye and she felt like crying again. She had never thought of bringing so much pain. But she heard it in what Ray said, could feel it through the beating of his heart so attuned to her own. She gripped Ray's loose shirt in her hand and buried her face in his chest, crying. She'd cried so much and they both had been on such a rollercoaster. And it was all her fault.

"Meg, I love you," Ray said.

Joey whistled as he walked into his apartment. He tossed his jacket onto the back of a chair, and heading for the kitchen, he first went to the phone and checked his messages, choosing to put them on speaker so he could go about his business.

"You have four new messages," the phone chimed.

"Play!" Joey hollered as he went to the kitchen.

"Uh yah Joey this is Mack. Just thought you wanted to know d' meetin' got switched from tooooosday t' Saturday. Be dere."

"DELETE!" Joey hollered, beginning to search the contents of his ice box.

"Hey baby, it's Cammie--"

"DELETE!"

"Hey Joey it's Roberto just callin' to make sure you know about the meetin'--"

"Delete!" Joey hollered again, opening a beer.

But as he was taking his first swig of Corona, he froze; "Joseph, it's yor fathuh."

Oh Shit, Joey thought.

"Look, I am not very pleased with a certain indevidual's performance, this indevidual being Ray Crisp. Now, I treat this boy like family, and what does he do? Nothing. What shoudl Ibe doing to please this kid? Nothing. He should be showing me the respect I deserve. I gave him everything! Tell him he needs to shape up, or else I'll shape him up myself."

"Oh God, Ray, I love you too!" Meg said, her arms going around his neck as she tried to stay standing up. She suddenly felt so weak and helpless.

Ray had longed to hear those words. He felt his shirt's damp spots and knew her statement was true. And as he heard her "i'm sorry's", all that mattered to him was that they were holding onto each other for what seemed like forever, but there was a knock at the door and a dog barked, hence ruining the moment of granduer. They separated quickly, and Ray said he would get the door.

When Ray opened the door, he saw Tyson standing on the stoop, looking at his watch; "Ray," he said, nodding to Ray in introduction; "My son around?"

"What? Uh, yeah," Ray said, backing up and letting Tyson in.

Jason saw his father, and smiling ran to him. Tyson bent down and scooped his son up in his powerful arms; "Hey," Tyson said to Ray; "Take care o' her, okay? I don't want her cryin' on my doorstep."

Ray nodded, and closed the door when Tyson and Jason left. He turned and saw Meg standing at the counter, in front of the sink, and saw she was pouring the tea into a glass pitcher. He walked over to the counter and sat down again.

"Jason's dad was here," Ray said idly.

"Oh, okay," Meg said, looking at him for a moment; "So," she said, placing the glass pitcher on the counter; "What… what happens now?"

Ray looked at his hands on the counter, moving the digits as he thought; "I…" he paused; "There's gonna be a band playing at one of my clubs… you're coming, right?"

He looked up at her, and she saw how the hazel eyes she'd often thought of were laced with blue. "Of course," she said, smiling.

Three hours later, after talking with Meg the entire time and feeling very content, Ray got into his car. He sighed and smiled for no reason. He felt lightheaded, relieved, saved, like a heavy weight had been lifted. He was pulling up to his apartment complex when his phone began to ring. He dug it out of his pockets as he gave the valet his keys, and answered it.

"Hello?"

"Ray? It's Joey."

"Yeah Joey, what's up?"

"I uh… got a phone call from dad today, man, an' he ain't too happy."

"'Bout what, our grades?"

"This isn't funny, Ray! He's upset with you, thinks you don't respect him ,that you might be turning traitor on 'im or somethin'."

"But I'm not!"

"Yeah, I know, but he thinks cuz you won't kill anyone that you're too soft, that you would give in easy should the cops find you."

"Your dad knows me better than that, man…"

"Yeah, I think that too, but Ray, you need to honestly get it together man."

"…You know I can't have blood on my hands, Joey, I couldn't handle it."

sigh "I know, man, I know…"

"What'll I do?"

"…I dunno… gimme a day to think. I'll come up with somethin."

"Okay."

Click

…Click.

TWO WEEKS LATER

They stumbled into the house loudly. It was easily two in the morning. They laughed quietly and tugged at each other's clothes, kissing each other and trying to make it up the steps. They kicked their shoes off once they reached the second floor, and coats had been left at the front door. Elbows and a nervous hand pushed the door open, and they entered a clean and darkly colored room. A hand shot out and electric sparks lit the wicks to candles. Another jolt of electricity turned on the radio.

Meg kissed Ray and he shamelessly kissed her back. They moved to the bed and Meg pushed him gently down onto it. She pulled off her shirt slowly, knowing his hungry eyes were on her. Ray leaned back on his elbows, knowing his mouth was slightly open, knowing his breathing was a little loud, knowing his lustful eyes were trying to take in all of the pale skin being offered. She was beautiful, for lack of a better word, and he couldn't believe she was his.

Meg slowly walked over, and crawled onto his lap. Kissing at his neck while she slowly pushed his shirt down his arms, she elicited a moan from the young man. Ray felt a stirring in his groin and knew he was at her mercy, he always had been. But as the reality of what was happening sank slowly in, he sobered. Ray's eyes snapped fully open and he sat up, holding a startled Meg from falling onto the ground.

"Meg, do you realize what we're about to do?" he asked her, setting her to his side and looking at her. Strong hands still held onto pale skin, contact still needed to keep a drunken mind calm.

Meg nodded; "I haven't been drinking, either," she said, "I want this, Ray, I want you…"

She began kissing him, and he wrapped his arms around her, laying her down slowly. Breaking away for air, he then whispered; "Let me make you feel like no one else has ever made you felt…" he began kissing her again.

FOLLOWING MORNING

Sam groaned as he woke. Looking over he saw David snoring quietly beside him. What a night, he thought as he rose, groaning again. His head was pounding, he felt like he would throw up. At the thought, he rushed for his bathroom, and paid homage to the porcelain god.

With disgust he wiped his mouth with toilet paper, flushed what had once been the contents of his stomach, and then rose. He put on pajama bottoms, and then exited the room. As he headed for the stairs, he saw that Meg's door was partially open, and a pair of shoes not her size and not for her gender outside it, one stuck between door and frame. With curiosity like that of a child, he walked over, quiet as a cat. Pushing the door open with his fingertips, Sam then smirked, letting the door glide on open as he leaned against the pane.

Meg and Ray were in the bed, both naked. The sheets were drawn up around Meg, who rested against Ray's chest. Ray, who was lying on his stomach with an arm under Meg, mouth open slightly. Only the quilt covered his… buttox, and this caused Sam to hold in a chuckle.

"Well, welly well well then!" he said airily and loudly, elated at how it caused Ray to jump and Meg to squeal.

"What the…?" Meg began, looking around; "Sam? Get out! Out!"

Sam laughed as Meg threw a pillow in his general direction, shutting the door and laughing all the louder.

David came out of Sam's bedroom, tying the strings to his pajama bottoms; "What was that about?" he mumbled, scratching the side of his head.

Sam began to head for the stairs; "Woke up Meg is all…"

"Sounded like she had somebody in there," David said idly as he followed Sam downstairs.

"Oh, she did," Sam said, looking at David with a knowing look.

"Was he fit, then?" David asked, his native British accent coming into play.

"Hmm, yeah, suppose so," Sam said as they went into the kitchen; "He's a bit too buff for me, though."

"Well lucky me, then," David said, rolling his eyes.

"Oh, honey you're built fine," Sam said; "You're not bone skinny, if that's what you're thinking."

"Well duh…"

Meg waited for the sounds of her room mate to fall away to the distance, and then she groaned and put her face into the pillow. Ray rearranged the blankets, blushing at the fact that a gay man might have caught a glimpse at his package was more than unnerving for him.

"Well, good morning," Ray said, smiling as he leaned against his elbow beside Meg.

Meg said something, but as the pillow was in contact with her face, it was muffled and therefore he couldn't comprehend it. Ray chuckled and began to play with her pale blonde hair, finding that he liked it more than he had ever liked her with red hair. Meg turned to face him, smiling. Ray leaned down and kissed her forehead, but she brought his lips lower and for a moment they were connected.

When they separated, Meg sat up, letting the blankets slide without a second thought; "Let's go out for breakfast," she said; "I know where there's a Waffle House..."

Ray smiled; "This early? C'mon, Meg, let's just go back to sleep…" he laid down, looking at her innocently.

Meg stuck out her lower lip; "No, you c'mon," she said, playfully shoving him; "Besides, it's like, ten o'clock. It ain't early no more."

There she went again with her broken dialect. Ray smiled, how could he say no?

"Okay," he said, rising; "But… can I take a shower?"

Meg looked at him seductively as she slowly rose; "Well, I was going to take one, but, if you wanna join me," she began walking to a side door Ray hadn't noticed before.

And like a well-trained puppy Ray got up and followed her into the bathroom.

Sam and David, who had settled down to read the paper and eat breakfast, both stopped to look up at the ceiling as they heard a moan.

"Do we make that much noise, love?" David asked, looking at Sam quizzically.

Sam, still looking up at the ceiling, replied; "Oh I bet we could make more," he said, nodding with indemnity.

David laughed as he went back to the paper; "Whoa, listen to this!" he said with surprise; "'Another body was found washed up on the shores of Staten Island late last evening when a passing boat noticed a white Nike against the black rocks. The remains were male, and cause of death was blunt force trauma of the head. Police officials have reported that the death was more than likely a mob hit. The body was missing hands, feet, nose, lips and eyes'…" David grimaced and made a sound of disgust, "Oh nasty, I can't read anymore…"

"Well I can," Sam said as he snatched up the paper and continued reading, aloud; "'Without the missing body parts, identifying the remains is next to impossible, as there were no fingerprints decent enough to lift'… Well damn, someone's thorough!" Sam said, looking up; "It had to be a mob hit!"

"Well duh, but which one? The Italian, the Japanese? The Irish? Which?"

"Hmm, The Irish mob hasn't made a move in weeks, Davie," Sam said, "And the Japanese aren't so thorough…"

"Wow," David said; "Wonder if… nah…"

"What? What! Don't leave me out!"

"Well, you remember that one guy you bumped into?"

"Yeah…"

"Well, you said he seemed to be snooping around, right? Maybe he was coming the area for a victim!"

For a quick second Sam glanced upward, then shook his head as he looked at David; "Nah, couldn't have been."

A/N: well there yall go! sorry once again for the delay! please review!