A/N:
Virginia State University
I recently recieved a review that sent me searching for something online. Although I wrote this a long time ago, I was fairly certain I hadn't made up Virginia State University out of thin air. So I double checked (and I truly appreciate all reviews, good, bad, ubly and ESPECIALLY nit-picky! Nit-pickey reveiws are the very best.)
Virginia State Univeristy, however, is located in Petersburg, VA. Their mascot is the Trojan (sort of appropriate to our favourite CIA officer) and...yes, if I had done more than just a Google search the first time around, I would have realized that chances are Sands wouldn't have gone there, but the place *does* exist. Given that it is an historically Black college, I'm a little offended to be told that it doesn't exist, like that somehow makes it unimportant or not real. The website, by the by , is VSU dot EDU.
Chapter Forty Nine:
Endings and Beginnings
If Tonto thinks anything of waking up to find Emma and Cicily sleeping with me in the chair, he wisely keeps it to himself. Likewise, if he happened to overhear any of that last night, he keeps that to himself as well, and just gives me a rather sedate "Good morning," once he realizes I'm awake.
I just kind of nod in his direction, as I'm trying to figure out how to get up without disturbing either of the girls; my movement wakes Emma, however. "Morning," she says in a sleepy voice.
"Hey there, Kiddo," I manage a genuine smile at Em. I'm not much of a morning person – but there are a lot worse ways to wake up than this. and yes, that is really coffee I smell brewing – looks like my boy there really does have a nice healthy survival instinct. He's gonna need it too, if he really plans to keep working with yours truly.
Emma manages to crawl off me with damaging either of us in the process – all the movement has woken Cicily who just hangs on as I slide the recliner back into a sitting position. Yeah, there are definitely worse ways to wake up…
"Do you have to go to work today?" Cicily inquires in a quiet little voice. It doesn't really sound like she wants me to say yes.
" 'Fraid so – I still have a lot of work to do."
"Can we come with you again?" she wants to know – and – yeah, she sounds kinda scared to be left alone.
"I think we can manage that."
She hugs me for a real long moment – and – I swear, she's just a kid, but sometimes it's real hard to breathe when she does that, and it's not because she's squeezing too tight… what the fuck did I do to deserve this? I'm the bad guy – the villain of the story. I have brought down kings and lain waste to small countries (one big giant enema…) I deal with the scum of the earth because I am the scum of the earth – but here I am, with this little kid in my lap. Not only is she here – but I really dig it that she's here. Un-fucking-believable…
"Can we go see Mama today, too?" Cicily's question brings me out of my thoughts.
"Yeah – yeah I'm sure she'd love to see you," I tell her – I only hope Beth doesn't mind seeing me, because I still remember the way she was so happy to get rid of me yesterday… not that I blame her, I wasn't exactly Mr. Sunshine. I just can't make myself believe she's ever going to walk again. I don't know how to have so much faith…
"You want me to take Spencer down for a quick walk?" Em inquires, as I'm getting myself a cup of coffee – I think that translates to: do you think it's safe for me to go down by myself?
"Let me throw on a shirt – I could use the fresh air myself. You two be ok for five?" I ask Tonto and Cicily – she seems to have taken a bit of a shine to the boy, having toddled into the kitchen to lend a hand with getting breakfast sorted out. (Just as well, if Emma were helping him cook, I'd be afraid to eat it…)
I excuse myself to the bathroom to put on a t-shirt and my shades, taking just a few seconds to scrap the fuzz off my teeth while I'm at it. When I come back out again, I find that Em is already by the front door, dressed and getting Spencer's harness on for me. "I thought women were supposed to take longer than men to get it together," I grumble in her direction.
"You're worse than any girl I've ever known when it comes to getting ready, Shelly," Em teases me.
(I didn't really think I was going to end up hearing 'Dad' out of her all the time, but honestly, I never expected to hear it at all, so I don't mind. It was just really just kinda groovy to hear it that once.) And I give her a bit of a smirk for that little comment and slip into my shoulder holster, pull on my coat and grab my smokes from the coffee table. And I can't help it, my hand falls right on that hat Beth got for me, so I slip it onto my head. "Be back in a flash," I say into the kitchen. It sounds like Cicily's going to be ok with my little assistant while I go downstairs with Em for a few minutes.
We're just about four feet out the door when I hear the elevator open up at the end of the hall. Ok, no real cause for concern there, it's morning, people are coming and going – but the person coming seems to be coming straight at me… hmmm… but what I really don't like is the way Emma scoots just behind me and the way Spencer moves out in front… nope, I do not like this at all. My hand slides into my coat to rest on that Browning…
"Officer Sands?" Asks a voice – male – fifty-ish, maybe. Slight Texas drawl.
"Who's asking?" I query – I can't quite believe that the Texan fuzz would trek all the fuck out here just on that little B & E job I pulled.
"Chief Deputy Marshal Samuel Gerard – "
Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck… Ok, keep cool – nice easy breaths. Just think a minute –
"You are Sheldon Jeffrey Sands, right?"
"Guess the dog and cane pretty much gives me away, huh?" I manage a grin. Barely. (And why the fuck is this guy alone? They wouldn't send in just one man to bring me in – I'm a fucking menace, a loose cannon, a lunatic – and my daughter is standing right behind me, and while she isn't in the line of fire, she is an easy resting place for any stray bullets that happen to go zinging past me. Or through me.) "So – what can I do for you, Marshal?" I manage to keep my tone light. Just keep it cool until you know for sure you're really screwed…
"Marlina Eddas sent me –"
Ok – yup, this is it. I just didn't fucking see it coming – I mean that, I really didn't see this one at all. (And why the fuck would she send them to get me here? And where are the rest of them, anyway?)
And – I suppose I could take down Mr. Marshal there without any real trouble, he really does seem to be all by his lonesome, and my hand is still resting on the grip of that Browning... Yeah, right, real slick – like he won't see that coming a mile away. Fuck me. Just fucking fuck me. I really fucking trusted her (that would be Eddas.) I really believed every fucking word she said to me. I was even starting to believe I might be more than just a good little rat – and fuck it, I have been a good little rat! I've played by her rules, I've given her everything she asked for, done everything she fucking told me to do…! Why is she turning on me? (Maybe Collins really did give her everything she needs…) But why now – why here – why like this? Why would she put Emma and Cicily into the middle of it – unless that was the only way she could think of to get me to surrender quietly (news flash: I am not going to surrender quietly.)
"Marlina sent me to get you –"
"Yeah. Yeah, I got that much." I will not go to prison, not after all this – not after Beth getting fucking shot. I won't spend the rest of my life in an orange jumpsuit – I just – I won't. I can't. (And – Eddas can't be that pissed about what I did to Collins, can she? Fucking weasel deserved what he got.)
"She thought you might like accompany me to the airport – "
"Airport? What – ?" airport?
"Officer Suarez is on her way into the country – I thought you'd been briefed –?"
What… Suarez… Eddas told me… oh fuck me but good is right. I do believe Eddas has a sense of humour after all… I manage a smile. A real one. It's still probably pretty wan. "Just – give me a minute to – to put on some real cloths." Fuck. Fucking fuck. But at least I think I can almost breathe again, because – because I suppose it could be a set up – but it makes just a little more sense for it not to be.
"Shelly?" That's Emma. I think all she's registered so far is Marshal and me going with him,and she probably has visions of orange jumpsuits dancing in her head too.
"It's ok," I tell her, amazed that I actually sound reasonably sure of myself. I'm not saying I feel sure – but hey, putting on a good show is half the battle, right? Besides, there are easier ways to throw me into the pokey than to have a single, lone, solitary Marshal show up at my door – Tonto's door. What-the-fuck-ever. "You wanna step inside a minute?" I say in the direction of that solitary, single, lone Marshal.
He seems a wee bit hesitant – probably realizes I'm packing (I wasn't exactly being subtle about it) – but finally he says sure, and follows me back towards Tonto's apartment. (I get the impression Mr. Marshal is as much the butt of this little bit of early morning humour as I am, although hopefully someone at least warned him what a live wire I can be.)
"Suarez's plane is due to land in an hour," the Marshal tells me, as we hit the threshold, "I figure you'll want to ride out to Langley with her – "
Well that stops me in my tracks. "They're sending her home?"
"Jeff – ?" of course that's Tonto, probably wondering what I'm doing back so soon – and why not only am I not alone, but no body is shooting…
"Moss," I barely manage to use my boy's actual name, "This is Marshal – Marshal – " oops. I guess after I heard that word Marshal, I kinda blanked to the little details… needless to say, I never did so well at those 'how to influence people and make new friends' seminars…
"Chief Deputy Marshal Samuel Gerard," he introduces himself to Tonto – sounds like he holds out his hand – Tonto steps forth – but he seems a little leery.
"Ryan Moss – DOJ – I'm Mr. Sands' assistant."
Ooh, don't I feel special…
I imagine they shake hands – but yeah, my little Tonto is definitely hanging back a bit. "So what's going on?" he wants to know – only I'm quite not sure if that's directed at me or Marshal Billy-Bob, and damn if Tonto doesn't sound a little – defensive. Of me. I swear, I will just be gosh-darned all the way to Heck and back again… yeah, I'm being flippant. But it is pretty amazing if you really think about it – I mean, me inspiring loyalty. Isn't that like one of the plagues of the Apocalypse or something?
Billy-Bob speaks: "I was just explaining that Rebecca Suarez is due in, in about an hour – Marlina Eddas wanted Sands here to be there when I pick her up."
"And Langley?" I kinda wanna know.
"CIA gets first crack at their own – although all things considered, I should have you back to your office by lunch. We really don't expect it to take very long in Virginia."
"Spiffy." And – it strikes me that if the Boss was in a good enough mood to arrange this kind of fun and games for my early morning amusement, things must be going ok down in Mexico… more to the point, Milo must be doing ok. Hell, for all I know, this was his idea… yeah, yeah, I can picture that. I turn towards Tonto, "Mind taking charge of the girls while I go take care of this little bit of business?"
"Sure – no problem – we can – go to the hospital maybe –?" (That seems to be directed at them – and it seems to be a very good idea as far as they're concerned.)
"I'll catch up with you at the office just as soon as I get done at Spook Central," I promise them, then head into the bedroom to change. I pull on the first button-down shirt I lay my hands on, and button it about half way up, so I can get to my guns if I need to. I also arm myself with that little piece I keep locked up with the family jewels before sliding into a pair of clean(ish) jeans. I have no idea if anything even begins to match – but according to most people I know, no one would notice the difference anyway, even if contrary to popular belief, I really did used to put a lot of thought into my wardrobe. No, really, I mean that. I did. (I swear, everybody is a fucking critic…) What, you really think all those outfits were accidents? (And although I don't like it quite so much any more, I did look good in that orange shirt – but – these days I think I'll avoid orange, thank you.)
I take five minutes to shave – wanna look my best for Rebecca, after all – and when I get back into the living room both Emma and Cicily have good-bye hugs for me… and damn, it feels good to hug them back. I promise again that I won't be long – and it's off into the wild black yonder. With a God damned Federal Marshal.
…"Nervous about something, there, Kid?" Marshal Billy-Bob inquires when we reach the lobby.
I'm not sure what gave me away, the way I'd been chewing on the end of my finger the whole way down in the elevator or the fact that just as soon as we clear the elevator doors, I'm lighting up that cigarette. (Nope, I didn't wait to clear the building, although the doorman is just bright enough not to say 'boo' to me about smoking in the lobby. Really, I am just passing through… He just holds the door and I just give up one of those little smiles of mine.) And – who is that kodger calling 'kid' anyway – oh yeah, wait, right, I look about ten years younger than I really am. "I dunno, Gramps – I'm about to get into a car with a U.S. Marshal – and you've gotta know about that little warrant I had on my head not so long ago."
He just chuckles, "You're armed – I'm armed – let's just call it a draw and try to have a pleasant drive without anybody getting trigger happy."
"I think I can dig it," I tell him. Hey, at least the old fart isn't holding the fact that I can't see against me. I take a nice long drag off my smoke, trying to force myself into believing that this is just exactly what it looks like. Of course from where I'm standing everything looks the same as it would if it was a set up. Everything is black. Everything is always going to be black, for the rest of my God damned life… Still, the thought of Suarez in an orange jumpsuit is really almost enough to make me want to smile. Just as long as there isn't another one of those jumpsuits hanging in somebody's close with my name on it...
"I'm parked just about a block down – finding a place to put a car around here's a real bitch," Gramps informs me.
I just shrug – that much longer to savour my freedom… I know, I know it probably isn't a set up. It's probably just Eddas' warped idea of a joke because I told her how I felt about marshals showing up to cart me away. I told Milo, too, and I can really believe he'd conspire to set this up. And that has to mean that he's at least doing well enough to have a laugh at my expense – which makes me very happy. Really, it does. But he's still gonna get his, just you wait and see. As soon as I find out that I'm right and he's the one behind this little production number, his ass is so fucking mine – and not in any way he's going to enjoy (although, honest, I will refrain from permanent damage... I don't know what I'm going to do, but I guarantee, it's going to be good. Real good.)
… The ride to the airport is mostly pleasant. Gramps favours country western music; it's a little twangy for my taste (real old school stuff), but what the Hell, it beats Diamanda Galas. Someone oughta just strangle that woman (I think it's female at any rate) and put the parents and room mates of all of its fans out of our collective misery… but I'm relaxed enough to muse about little trivial things as I listen to the road go by.
"She coming in on a commercial flight?" I inquire of my companion, because if I'm not mistaken, this really is D.C. Metro we're pulling into – although it seems like we just pulled off the main road onto one of those side roads…
"Not exactly. Small private jet – friend of a friend of a friend lent it out to – what is it you inside guys call it – oh yeah 'the Company.'" Gramps says – and no, I don't think he thinks he's fooling anybody playing dumb.
"What friend is that?"
"My understanding is that the Mexican President was in a bit of a hurry to extradite matters."
Fuck… but I doubt Corazon is on that plane. I mean – that doesn't make any sense – of course the AFN might be – fucking ducky. Even if this isn't a set up, it could get unpleasant – of course I am in my own country here…
"You ok there, Kid – you've gone a little pale."
"Just peachy keen, Gramps."
And that gets me a little bit more of a chuckle out of the old coot. You know, I may just be starting to like this guy, just a little bit. Hell, at least he hasn't tried to clam me in irons yet, and his driving doesn't leave me praying for Dramamine, either. (Milo is a fucking scary driver, boys and girls. I try not to bitch when he's behind the wheel, because, really, it's not like I could take over anyway – but he can take a four hour drive through the back roads of Ecuador and turn it into a two hour drive that had me practically kissing the ground when I finally got out of the jeep… And fucking Tonto is just the opposite. He'd take a four hour drive and turn it into a six hour drive – I swear, we had little old ladies honking at us to move out of the way when we were on that little road trip out west.)
However… Gramps gets us to just where we need to be right about the same time I become aware of a small jet landing. I have just enough time to smoke a cigarette while we wait.
Thankfully, there's little excitement as Suarez is walked onto the tarmac and in our general direction, although I'm gratified by the sound of chains clinking with each step she takes. I imagine they've got her in the full body shackles – and I really hope that's an orange jumpsuit she's wearing because orange just was never her colour.
"Fucking Sands," Suarez has to yell a little to be heard over the ambient noise of the airfield – or maybe she's just that pissed, it's kinda hard to tell. Me, I'm just smiling. Suarez continues: "I should've known you wouldn't have the good sense to just die like you were supposed to."
"Tisk, tisk, Darlin' – you of all people should know I never do what I'm told. How many of those disciplinary forms had your signature on them?"
"Well – I see you two know each other," Gramps seems amused. "I'll go handle the paper work – be just a holler away if she gives you any trouble." He says and ambles off – yeah, I'm starting to like this guy. At least – as much as a guy like me is ever going to like a U.S. fucking Marshal.
"How is it that you aren't in prison by now?" Suarez wants to know. "Even if you didn't end up worm food – there is no way you should have walked out of there a free man."
"You need to learn to pay better attention to the playbill, Sweet Cheeks," I pull out that DOJ ID and flash it at her, along with the very sweetest smile I can muster – which is pretty sweet because I am just in a real good mood over here. This makes my day, it really does (which isn't going to get anyone off the hook for earlier – but I'll enjoy the snot out of this before I start figuring out how to even the score with Eddas and / or Milo.) "Surely you've heard the rumours by now," I keep on grinning.
"I heard it – but I didn't believe it. Come on – who are you trying to shit here? You are not one of the good guys."
"Yeah. Funny the way things turn out when you're just not looking. Kinda like how I calmly waltzed away with all 'your' dough down in Bogotá a few years back."
I can almost hear her teeth grinding – however, "How long have you been in bed with the DOJ?" is what she really wants to know.
"Long enough to know just how far your little op really goes." Snow job time…
"Than – you've gotta know this won't last long – I'll be out this in no time."
And – I'd say I almost believe her – but there's just too much of a nervous edge in her voice. "I think you're about to learn what it feels like to be burned. Slow fucking roasted, even." This is almost as good as setting them up and watching them fall, and I don't even have to see it to know that Suarez has landed flat on her keester right into a pile of rotten kim chee. And you know, despite her bravado, I think she knows it too. Just the same, "You know Collins is gonna squeal like a pig," I tell her. "Or did you really think I'd kill the star player in my little production number here?" Like I said, snow job time.
"You – your – !"
"I set them up. I watch them fall. Just like fucking Bogotá." I light up another cigarette. Yeah, Eddas has handed me a real sweet piece of cheese here and I think I'm going to savour the moment a little.
And – sounds like Gramps has wrapped up the paperwork, and those nice Mexican officials haven't even given me a second gander. Hot damn, we're on a roll. "We good to go, Chief?" I ask him when it sounds like he's close enough to hear me without my having to shout.
"All set on this end – they were pretty much happy to be rid of her."
Heh – what a shock. Frankly, I'm getting the idea the Company's got real egg on its face over this one. Oh well – not my problem…
"Hey, Jeff – I heard you left something behind in Mexico," Suarez says in my direction as Gramps gets her settled into the special passenger seat of our little vehicle. (I can hear him locking her shackles into place – gotta love all the little extras you can get these days – well, gotta love 'em if you don't happen to be on the wrong end of things…)
"Yep," I just shrug at her. I refuse to be bated. (Besides, I know she's just trying to regain a little footing for that Bogotá comment. I hurl my smoke to the ground and resume own seat up front, with Spencer at my feet.)
"So what's it like – the whole world just black? No more sunshine, no more – no more anything. Of course, I suppose the side benefit is that you'll never have to see what people really think of your face. I heard all about what Guevara did. Sounds like an improvement if you ask me."
"Well nobody's askin' you," that's Gramps. "Now pipe down back there before I forget all about how you're not technically my prisoner yet – unless that makes it ok to stuff a sock in her yapper?" that last is directed at me.
"I dunno – I guess that all depends on how you look at it, but I suppose it could be taken that way. And what the Hell – I can't see anything anyway," I smirk in Suarez's direction.
Yeah, we have ourselves a nice quiet ride all the way to Virginia, just the hum of morning traffic and Conway Twitty to see us on our way…
At Langley we get we get Suarez settled into a 'safe room' – i.e., a room safe to leave a prisoner in because of all those nice bars and the big thick door that locks from the outside. And I gotta admit, I'm feeling pretty good about life just now, even when I hear Douglas Mitchel's distinctive footsteps…
"Fucking – Sands. I should have known."
"Hey there, Big Guy – lookie-see what I brought you – a nice little souvenir from Mexico," I grin at Mitchel. (Gramps is in the room too – and I honestly have no idea if Mitchel was expecting us or if this is as much of a surprise to him as it was for me this morning…)
My compatriot introduces himself – and I swear I can just about hear my former boss's eyebrows hitting the roof. No, I did not misspeak, if I'd meant the 'ceiling', I would have said ceiling. I meant roof.
"That cute little ex-partner o' mine gonna handle this one too?" I hate bringing Paula's name up – but I know it's what Mitchel would expect. "I haven't seen her since that little incident the other day – well, I mean really I haven't seen her in eight years – and oh, how is ol' Danny-Boy, by the by? Think I could go up and say 'hello' –?" And if you're imagining me wearing a shit-eating grin, you've got the picture just about right there, amigos.
"Cut the crap," is the best thing Mitchel can come up with to counter my attitude.
"Yes, Sir, whatever you say there, Boss Man," I light up a smoke – no there isn't smoking allowed in here either. Now ask me if I care. "Oh. Wait. You're not my boss any more are you? In a bizarre round about, twisted, sort of way you might almost think of me as your boss – " ok, so maybe that's pushing it – which of course is the whole idea (although I have to remind myself to mind the poor guy's blood pressure, there. I don't think giving him a heart attack where he stands would be the best career move on my part.)
"Is there anything else?" Mitchel wants to know.
"Dunno – is there?"
Gramps places a friendly hand on my shoulder, "Why don't you and me go get a cup of coffee – I think the director has it from here."
"Only if you're buyin'," I grin over in his general direction.
"Deal. Director," he says to Mitchel. "Call me when you're through. I expect this won't take all day." And that last does not sound like a request there, Kemo Sabes.
… "So tell me, were you always so popular around here?" Gramps inquires, as we exit the building and make our way towards a little coffee shop that is still standing across the street.
"Popular – do you really think I'm popular?" I ask in a (fucking obviously feigned) hopeful tone. "I always thought they hated me."
My companion just sighs, and yes, it is one of pure and utter exasperation. I think he's real glad he doesn't have to work with my sorry, annoying ass. I toss my smoke to the ground as we reach our destination. Like me, Gramps just drinks plain old ordinary coffee – cuppa joe – java – none of that fancy crap my daughter orders. Neither of us has much to say, but I can't really call it an uncomfortable silence, either. Surprisingly, I'm the one to break it, "So – you know the Boss Lady long?"
"Marlina – we go back a few years," his tone is affable enough. "You gonna stick around?"
"Haven't quite decided yet," I tell him the truth. Like I said, I think I kinda like the guy. For a marshal.
"Well – I think I can probably handle the rest of this from here – if you've got other things you need to be taking care of – "
"Probably a few things I should get to," I finish my coffee.
"Need me to drive you anywhere? They probably will be all fucking day," yeah, he sounds thrilled.
"I can take a cab," I give him a smile that's pretty close to sincere. And it has occurred to me that Eddas really sealed the deal as it were. I've not only shown up here with her, but now I show up with Deputy Chief Billy-Bob – and I'm still walking out a free man. Fuck me, but the lady is good, because I will forever be the rat they go chasing after any time someone thinks a little cheese has gone missing…
I should probably mention that it's real fucking hard to be back at Langley and not go up to see Marcus Lewin. He really used to be the second person down on that not-so-long list of people I didn't think would ever screw me over – so what do I do? I give him a real swift kick in the nuts, for his trouble, that's what – you know, all that shit I laid on his kid. He really was trying to help – I just couldn't accept it, not if I really wanted to walk out of this in one piece, and fuck me, but I really think I have. I still have to get through that thing on Friday – but – I really think I've done it…
"Well – I'm sure I'll catch you around," Gramps says by way of good-bye.
"Not if I run faster," I smirk in return.
And that gets me an honest to goodness laugh out of the coot…
I listen to him go back across the street into Spook Central – but I'm sure at least a dozen sets of eyes are watching as I pull out my cell and call for a cab. I'm walking away. I'm going free. And there's not a damned thing the CIA can do to stop me.
And I know just where I want to go.
…………………………….
Beth is asleep when I get to her room – I can tell by the soft breathing I hear coming from the bed, so me and Spencer make our way real quietly towards where I hope – nope – nope – ah-ah, there's that chair. I slip out of my coat sit in the chair so I'm facing the bed. I can't really see her – but I can pretend. I can pretend she's really going to stay with me – I can pretend that she isn't going to wake up one morning and tell me to get lost – I can even almost pretend she might love me… maybe. Some day.
And I have absolutely no idea how long I've been just sitting there, listening to her breathe before I hear her voice – and – and I swear, it sounds like she's smiling at me, "Hey there, Cowboy – you been here long?"
I just shrug – but now that she's awake, I can scoot that chair closer to her without having to worry about the noise – and yes, that is her hand I feel on mine. Her touch is so warm, and even if she doesn't smell like orange and floral and musk – I just love being near her like this. (I admit it, I kinda wanna savour every second she gives me, just in case she doesn't give me much more.) I lift her fingers to my lips and give them just a little kiss. "How you feeling?" I ask – yeah, I feel like a fucking asshole the minute I hear my own voice – I mean, she was fucking shot, I know how she feels – but – I really just don't know what to say… that's the real reason I never called my mother when she was laid up. I just – I didn't know what to say…
"Not too bad. I got to eat scrambled eggs for breakfast and I had this soft mushy stuff for lunch – I'm not real sure what it was, though."
I can't quite help but laugh, just a little – Christ, I feel so good – only – only I know I took this beautiful angel and –
"Shhh, Sheldon, don't – "
"Beth – " it's my fault, I know it is.
Beth pulls me a little closer, "You have got to stop beating yourself up, Sheldon. I don't blame you – I'm not mad at you. But – I want you to know that – you're not stuck with me either."
"What?" not stuck with – why does it kinda feel like the floor is dropping out from underneath me here?
"I have other friends – other places I can go – you know – if it's going to be too much."
"If – if I think what is going to be too much?"
"Shel – I'm not going to be the only having a tough year. You've got a lot going on. I heard about this morning. Although it's kinda good to see you're not wearing orange," it sounds like she's trying to smile.
"Yeah – but – but what I'm interested in is – is you – leaving?" That is what she's getting at, isn't it? That she – might – leave? I mean – I know I told her she should but – but – I take it back. I don't want her to leave.
"I'm just letting you know you're not stuck with me, that's all. You don't have to take care of me – "
"I want to be stuck with you – "
"Listen to me, Sheldon: I'm going to be in physical therapy three days a week for most of the next year. I can't do that alone – and I'm going to have to work on it at home too. I – I know you've got a lot going on with this whole thing with – with everything. I understand that you – won't have the time for me – "
"I'll make the time." Yeah, like I made time yesterday to even pick up the fucking phone and call…
"Sheldon – I'm going to be stuck in a wheel chair for at least the next few months. Maybe more. That's not going to be easy for anyone living with me – anyone – trying to take care of me. And it's not your fault," she says again (which isn't to say I'm believing her), "But there's a real good chance that some of the damage in my left leg is – it's permanent."
Oh fuck… "How – how bad – ?" I asked her to stay with me so I could keep her safe – or at least that's what I told myself, what I told her. I really wanted her near because I'm a fucking selfish prick and when she's around – when she's around I don't wake up screaming in the middle of the night. When she's around I'm happy. But – I knew – I had to know – that someone would come after me sooner or later, that she'd get caught in the crossfire. Only that didn't matter. The only thing I cared about was what I wanted. And now – now she's never going to walk…
"I will walk. But I'll end up using a cane or maybe a crutch. It's not going to be pretty – and it's not going to be easy. There are a lot of things I'm going to have to learn to do all over again from scratch, because I won't be able to do everything I used to, at least not the way I used to do it."
God – no. Not – not my angel…
"My physical therapist thinks there's a real good chance I might regain my right leg completely – but – it's really going to take a lot of hard work. I won't be able to focus on much else for a while."
"And – and so you don't want me around – " you don't need the constant reminder of how you ended up this way…
"That's not what I'm trying to say. I'm trying to offer you an out – no hurt feelings – just – it's a matter of what's practical. You have a very full plate – and I have friends who work two days a week. I'll be up to playing again in no time, as long as I take it easy between shows. I don't even have to play at every show if I'm not up to it – but getting out into the world again would probably be good for me. Even though things are a little rustic on the road like that, I've done enough PT work that I can train just about anybody to do the exorcises with me, so it's not like I really need to be near a hospital. I just need to have a person who can be there."
(Yeah, I guess I'm not exactly Mr. Fucking Dependable, huh? Look at all those fucking broken promises… everything just feels like it's just – just crumbling, right around me, too. She's obviously put a lot of thought into this. Like all day yesterday, when I didn't call or stop back up to see her… Beth is still speaking:)
"I don't want to put that much pressure on you, not knowing what you've got going on in your life right now. Maybe – maybe we can try picking this up again when – when – you know, when things are a little more settled. If – if you want."
"No." No that isn't what I want at all… only I'm just barely aware that the word has slipped out…
"So you've got your out. No hurt feelings." (Except it sounds like she's trying real hard not to break down – and me? I'm not sure I know how to hold it together at this point…)
"You asked me not to leave – " she fucking asked me not to run out on her… and now, now she's going to run out on me… only she can't fucking run, can she…?
"I was wrong to ask something like that before I told you I was – partially paralyzed. I should have told you I couldn't feel my feet. I'm sorry – really, really sorry."
"Beth – I don't care about that any more, ok. I just – I don't want to pick this up in a year, because that means – that means I'd have to lose you now." Just tell me you don't hate me… "None of the rest of it – it's just not worth anything if – if you go away on me like this." I love you; you told me it would break your heart if I ran out on you… "So just – just don't go. I'll make the time – "
"Sheldon – please – I can't expect you to make that kind of a commitment. It's – it's going to be a long hard year and – I can't have someone who's going to bail half way through, even if it's just because their life just gets too crazy."
"I won't bail on you. I know you've got no reason to believe that, but I meant it when I said you had me, today, tomorrow, the next day – every day after that. If there's any hope of some kind of 'second chance' to prove that to you – just tell me what I have to do to get it, because I will do anything you ask me to, if I just get to keep the girl."
"I'm – not the same person I was two days ago," she tells me quietly. "I – I may never be that person again, because – bravado aside, I am scared, Sheldon. I'm scared you'll – you'll end up resenting the attention I'm going to need – scared you'll end up resenting the time – and the effort – and – and I will walk, but it's not going to be the same."
"You'll still be my angel – you're still the woman who held me in the dark. The woman who – who made off with my heart."
I hear – just the tiniests of gasps there, and it's followed by a whisper even I can barely hear. "Do you really mean that?"
"I'm not good with words, Sweetheart – I'm even worse when it comes to – feelings. Emotions, whether it's mine or anybody else's. Every shrink I've ever seen – and there have been quite a few – they all called me emotionally under-developed, which is pretty much just psycho-babble for really fucked up in the head. And ah – that was before the good Dr. Guevara got done with me – these days I'm not sure what a shrink would have to say about the shit that goes down in my head. But for all it's worth – all it really means, I do love you. I'm not gonna bail on you – even if – if I said I'd come back and we both know I wasn't going to – I won't bail on you." Yeah, I'm shaking. I've never said anything like this out loud before. I never asked Holly not to go. I never told her I loved her. I may never know if it would have changed anything if I had, but – but I can't just let Beth slip away without at least trying… and it would really fucking help if she'd say something here… anything, even if it's just to tell me to go to Hell.
Finally, just when I don't think I can take this silence much longer, I feel her hand on my cheek (she's shaking too – shaking just as much as I am, I think). Beth doesn't say anything, but she draws me forward until her lips meet mine. She has to coax them open – coax my tongue into her mouth, coax it into playing with hers. She has to coax me into accepting the hope I think she's offering me here… She still hasn't said whether or not she could ever love me (yeah, I just laid on her exactly how fucked up my head really is – ok, so let's be real, because even angels have their limits. But – she's kissing me. She's holding me. And I'll take whatever she's willing or able to give.)
It is a very long while before she finally pulls back from me. I don't want to stop, I don't want to let her go – but I don't want to ever scare her either. I really don't want to scare her now, because I'm not quite sure where I stand, if this limb I'm clinging to is going to hold up or crack and land my ass right on the cold hard ground underneath me.
Beth's voice is a soft, frightened sounding whisper, almost in my ear, "The night before – before the Day of the Dead, I had the strangest dream. I ah – I just chalked it up to – you know, la Dia de los Muertos, All Hallows, all of that – I didn't take it seriously."
I'm not sure which one of us she's trying to convince, because it sounds to me like whatever it was, she took it real seriously – even if I have no idea where this is going. But – I'm kinda getting used to this. My little angel doesn't always make a whole lot of sense – I don't really mind. I just nod and scoot in a little closer to her – because – she hasn't quite told me she's staying – but she hasn't said she's leaving either, and if that kiss was any indication… "So what was that dream?" I ask after I get a few more seconds of silence.
"I ah – I saw Death. You know, the typical guy in black with ah – you know."
"Skull for a face?" I have to force that smile. Only – only then I feel her hand on my face – she turns it just a little and kisses my cheek and – yeah, it's not so hard to smile after all.
"He was – not so tall – kind of thin – and – there was this river of blood behind him – but I wasn't afraid. I mean – Death is just change and change can be good. But then – it got a little weird."
"Weird how?" Ok, she's got my curiosity piqued if nothing else, because – well – yeah. I'm sure you get what I'm thinking.
"Erotic weird," and I do believe the lady is blushing. "I – I don't have dreams like that."
"Ever?" I'm mostly teasing.
"Not really – and not – so vivid."
"Was he good?" I favour her with a bit of a mischievous grin – oh come on, I can't help myself.
She giggles, just a little. "He was very good. And then – then he just held me in his arms a while, and I felt safe. Really safe, for the first time since I ran away from Neal I honestly felt like no one would ever hurt me like that, ever again. And I felt – needed. Wanted. And then – then he showed up."
"Neal?"
"No."
"Beth – "
"I didn't fall in love with a dream, Cowboy. I fell in love with a man – a very real, very solid man – a man I happened to dream about the night before he showed up in my garden, trying very hard to bleed to death in my petunias."
………………………………………….
In that book which is
My memory,
On the first page
That is the chapter when
I first met you
Appear the words . . .
Here begins a new life
- Dante Alighieri -
……………………………………..
Look at the sky tell me what do you see
Just close your eyes and describe it to me
The heavens are sparkling with starlight tonight
That's what I see through your eyes
I see the heavens each time that you smile
I hear your heartbeat just go on for miles
And suddenly I know why life is worthwhile
That's what I see through your eyes
That's what I see through your eyes
Here in the night, I see the sun
Here in the dark, our two hearts are one
Its out of our hands, we can't stop what we have begun
And love just took me by surprise, looking through your eyes
I see a night I wish could last forever
I see a world we're meant to see together
And it is so much more than I remember
More than I remember
More than I have known
Here in the night, I see the sun
Here in the dark, our two hearts are one
Its out of our hands, we can't stop what we have begun
And love just took me by surprise, looking through your eyes
Looking through your eyes
……...
Looking Through Your Eyes
Lyrics & Music By: Carole Bayer Sager & David Foster
Sung By: The Corrs & Bryan White
I just want to again say THANK YOU to everyone who's read this, whether you've reviewed or not. I appreciate you sticking with me through the roller coaster… ;)
Give me a month before you start looking for that sequel because I sorta skipped out on doing my homework to finish this today (I was just more driven to this than Russian…) But… I've really gotta get back on top of school…. There are at least two sequels to follow, one decidedly short (by comparison) with the working title Three Weddings and A Funeral (yes, a direct rip-off of that Hugh Grant flick from a few years ago, just minus one wedding because I couldn't think of a fourth couple.)
Movie References
Finding Neverland – there are any number of Peter Pan references scattered through out, including a couple of quotes and of course the book Peter and Wendy
Pirates of the Caribbean – the fact that Sands favourite part of Peter Pan is the pirates. I also put a few of Jack Sparrow's words into Sands' mouth ("Easy on the goods," "…we have ourselves and accord,"… "all by my/his onsey…") and that little resort Milo is so fond of is built on the site reminiscent of Port Royal. Also, Sands likes rum just as much as Captain Sparrow, although we didn't see him drinking too much of it, he did talk about it.
Don Juan De Marco – speaking of that resort, Eros Island is the quasi-mythic island paradise in Don Juan De Marco.
Blow – Thirty million dollars in a bank in Panama
Donnie Brosco – "Forget about it," in Sands' best (or worst) Brooklyn Mobster Accent
Cry Baby – when Sands is lamenting civilization, he thinks about Traci Lords, who co-starred w/ Depp in Cry Baby
The Astronaut's Wife: Spencer is the name of the character Depp played in that one. Also, Sands refers to himself as "a real peach" which is something Spencer (in Astronaut's Wife) would say (isn't he/she a real peach).
What's Eating Gilbert Grape: Arnie is the name of Gilbert's brother (it's the name of that other half brother Sands has, the one that actually talks to Tonto. And if all goes well, he'll end up in one of the sequels – so I might as well let the cat out of it now, I have in my head Orlando Bloom to "play the part" as it were… although I have a hard time pinning the name Arnie on Orlando, he's just too damned sexy to be an Arnie… oh well… I just like the picture of Depp and Bloom together on the page.)
Chocolat: Hot chocolate is Sands' favourite – it's also Roux's. Imagine that. ;)
The Libertine: I used a line of John Wilmot's (the Earl/Duke of Rochester) poetry at the start of Chapter 10. (I can also really see Sands digging the Wilmot's poetry – some of it is truly, truly raunchy. And just maybe the Libertine will see a U.S. release in March, they've only pushed it back, what four times already?)
Sleepy Hollow: it's no accident that the false ID Sands uses to get back into the States is "Mr. Crane." And there's more than a passing similarity between the way Ickabod Crane describes his mother and Beth – although I didn't really have that in mind when creating her, I just noticed it later.
It's also no accident that Sands refers to his "male bits" as his "Johnny" (as in short for Johnson, but you know I couldn't resist using that particular bit of slang for the bits in question.)
Benny and Joon: really obvious one, when Emma is chatting with "Jay", Joon is one of the "J" names Sands conjures up to convince himself that Em's Jay is really a girl.
Once Upon a Time in Mexico, the deleted scenes: Sands references to Alaska and taking Beth to a rodeo
Once Upon a Time in Mexico, DVD extras, 10 Minute Cooking School: Robert Rodriguez comments that cooking is like fucking, something you're going to do all your life so you might as well get good at it (or something to that effect, I'm paraphrasing from memory.) At any rate, that's something Sands said to Beth while they're in her garden. Not only was it something I could just see Sands saying, but it seemed really appropriate to steal a quote from the guy who actually created our favourite CIA operative.
Iggy and Bela are Emma's cats, named after Iggy Pop and Bela Legousi. Depp has starred opposite Pop a couple of times and opened for him at one point back before he became an actor and was trying to have a career as a musician. Bela Legousi of course was a very good friend of writer / director Ed Wood (another Johnny Depp movie.)
Erasmus – that raven of Emma's. Erasmus is the name of the raven in the movie based on E A. Poe's famous poem, The Raven. In the movie Vincent Price plays a man who gets himself turned into a raven – and of course we all know that Vincent Price co-starred in Edward Scisorhands. (Yeah, I really went digging for that one, although I too am a fan of the old horror movies, so it wasn't that much of a dig… )
Even more indirect – when Sands is talking about his favourite alcoholic beverages, he mentions something he can't get in the States but really likes – he's speaking of absinth (which is utterly yummy, it's really sad we can't get it in the states). Absinth is the drink of choice of Inspector Fred Abberline in From Hell. I'd hoped to elaborate more on Sands and absinth in this one (because the reference was more in my head than on the page) but will get to it in one of those sequels.
Unintentional names: I ended up using the name Tom for Alison's police officer husband just as a 'working name' but never renamed him. So I didn't really mean to refer back to Tom Hanson from 21 Jumpstreet, it just kinda happened. (And there's another possible sequel idea floating around my head, because would you believe that there's another Tom Hanson in the world of video… I love cross overs and that would just be too much fun, especially given that Christian Slater plays the other Tom Hanson and he is also rather yummy… I just have to sit down and actually watch the movie to see if I can make it work. By all accounts the flick wasn't that good… )
Likewise unintentional, apparently Depp's first wife's maiden name is Alison – I didn't know that when I started writing this (contrary to what my husband believes, I'm not a "drooling fan girl," ;)
Unintentional line: somewhere in here I wrote the line "could / would end up a dead man." As soon as I wrote it, I caught it myself – Depp starred in a movie called Dead Man. (Iggy Pop was also in that, along w/ a couple of other really great actors.)
Some other movie references: Emma invites Cicily to play a computer game based on a movie about the adventures of juvenile spies – i.e. Spy Kids, directed by Robert Rodriguez and starring Antonio Banderes. Sands refers to artist Frida Kahlo – Selma Hyak played that role in the movie Frida. Milo Perry Gives is "played by" Robert Sean Leonard, who played Neil Perry in Dead Poet's Society. I'd already used the name Neal for Beth's ex., so I gave Milo 'Perry' as a middle name. (And ok, ok, I have too much time on my hands here… DPS was the first time I saw Leonard on screen and I just fell for the guy. In a non-drooling fan girl sort of way … heheheh.)
And… that U.S. Marshal, Marshal Samuel Gerard – that's Tommy Lee Jones in the role he played in both The Fugitive and U.S. Marshals, because I love cross overs and couldn't quite resist.
Cheers, and thanks for reading!
Helen