This chapter and the next (Chapters Six and Seven) follow the events of Amelia and The Bee's Knees. Please enjoy!
Cooper and the Temporal Nexus
Chapter Six
'Well, this is a fine kettle of fish.'
Sighing deeply, Cooper leaned his head back against the hard brick wall of the basement before immediately pulling it away again, remembering all that dirt Amelia had gotten off of its grimy surface to smear on her arms. Taking another deep breath, he looked around the space.
It was good to have his lungs fill with oxygen again. It felt like he had been holding his breath for far too long, several minutes surely, while he listened to Amelia struggle to get out of the basement window, the soft but certain thumps of her body against the pavement of the ally, and the terrifying seconds that the policeman's flashlight lit up the exact spot her invisible form was resting. But then the light was gone and Cooper had only heard a few barely audible soft thuds of her shoes as she walked away. Amelia was leaving, Amelia was invisible, Amelia was safe. All that mattered was completed: Amelia was out of the speakeasy and moving away from the policemen who had come to raid it. Before long she'd be safely back in their hotel room, hopefully taking a long bath to wash off that wall dirt.
Now, he needed to formulate a plan for himself. Time was of the essence. What he wouldn't give to have his time machine tucked away in this room, not the forgotten storage room in the basement of Grand Central Station!
Oh, Grand Central Station. What smug fools they had been when they landed! This was, technically, all Amelia's fault. She read all those F. Scott Fitzgerald books, she wanted to travel here so badly, she looked so alluring in all those dropped-waist dresses, and she was so very, very happy. It's not that he hadn't wanted to come. After all the work Amelia had been doing for the past year to pass her GED and get accepted to college, he wanted her to have fun, to enjoy some carefree days without worries or stresses. And it had been carefree, hadn't it? Somehow, she even made diving into the ocean at Coney Island fun.
This time, this decade seemed to suit Amelia's impulsive nature. It was just as brash and as headstrong and as forward as she was. Nothing was so beautiful as his thrilled and pleased wife, and he basked in her joy and smiles all week. Even the mysterious birth control malfunction hadn't been able to dampen their spirits. No matter what happened here, he knew he'd always carry the memory of Amelia sashaying down the streets of New York City in all those breezy dresses, whenever he may find himself.
Amelia was young and the city was vibrant, both of them shimmying like dancers, bright as neon signs, brassy as trumpets.
Until she insisted on this cockamamie speakeasy plan. He'd already told her no, back at home, before they ever left. Numerous times he had said it. And yet her research and determination hadn't let up. That was just like Amelia, wasn't it? Once they were here, she seemed to be having so much fun he thought it was forgotten. But it came up again and she couldn't be dissuaded. He had only given in because it was clear she would go alone if he didn't agree.
But, over the next day, he made peace with his decision. It was true that Amelia's research had been thorough and rigorous. Plus, he knew he'd already disappointed her when he refused to take the Staten Island Ferry (a boat!) out to see the Statue of Liberty or to walk across the Brooklyn Bridge (so high!). The more he thought about it, the more he talked himself into it. They should go to the speakeasy, they would laugh and dance and Amelia would get it out of her normally reasonable system. What a fun story it would be to tell their friends when they returned! There was little Cooper enjoyed more than listening to Amelia regale others with her tales. By the time they'd dressed that evening, he was feeling a bit excited himself, especially when Amelia put on that breathtaking black beaded number. But then . . .
No, he couldn't be angry with her. Besides, he didn't have time to dwell on any possible mistake now. How was it possible that he - a time traveler, able to create time by leaving, spending weeks somewhere, and then coming back to the present only five minutes later - found himself with a serious shortage of that crucial commodity just at this moment?
Shaking his head, chastising himself for wasting even a second reminiscing about the lovely creature that was his wife, Cooper crossed the room and bent down to look through the keyhole at the speakeasy's main room, the one he and Amelia had had to tango their way out of under the protection of his new cloaking device.
The police were still there, and he watched them for a minute and listened to their conversation. It didn't sound like they planned on leaving anytime soon. And surely they would come to investigate what was behind this locked door sooner rather than later; it was probably shoddy work that they weren't already searching it.
"Focus. A plan," Cooper mouthed to himself, standing upright. He didn't have the cloaking device, having sent it out with Amelia - not a regret, her safety was far more important to him than his own - and he seemed to be trapped, so perhaps he would just have to use his sparkling wit and superior intelligence to talk his way out -
"Officer, officer! Oh, thank God!"
His head snapped toward the window as he gasped. No! No, it couldn't be! She had promised! What was she doing?
Growling, Cooper strode swiftly to the window just in time to see a fully visible Amelia, tears running down her cheeks, her voice suddenly higher pitched and with a slower drawl than normal, throw herself at the policeman standing at the end of the alley.
"Oh, officer, I'm so lost and frightened! A man tired to accost me on the street and he wanted to violate my person and I threw my purse in his face and I ran and he chased me down a dark alley and now I'm so lost and frightened and you've got to help me!"
Cooper groaned and felt his jaw tighten in frustration. Why was she doing this? He had explicitly warned her not to, he had clearly instructed her to only run away, to think only of herself, and she had promised to do just that! But here she was, drawing attention to herself, babbling foolishly like someone with much less intelligence than she possessed, telling some sort of unbelievable story about being accosted by a stranger -
But - Cooper wrinkled his brow. He found he wanted to let out a low whistle of appreciation. Amelia was actually good at this. No, she was brilliant. She sounded exactly like what she claimed to be, some young and naïve and frightened maiden from Kansas. And, at that moment, maybe she was. Well, not the maiden part. Cooper listened, half in outrage and half in awe, as her story became both more implausible and more compelling with every word. It wasn't even realistic, that such an overweight man could chase her down and remain unnoticed despite his singular appearance. Whatever possessed her to come up with such a description?
It was only when the policeman put a protective arm around her shoulders and they started to walk away - Cooper noticed with a little smile how Amelia kept him moving even when his steps seemed to want to stop - that he understood. The villain in her little tale looked nothing like Cooper. Amelia was giving him an escape; she was defying him to save him.
Once Amelia and the policeman weren't visible anymore, Cooper reached down for Amelia's forgotten handbag to dig out her compact mirror again. Just as he had before, he used it to check the alley in both directions. All clear. He took a deep breath. But for how long?
Just then, he heard a loud noise behind him, something crashing close to the door. The policemen in the speakeasy were getting far too close for comfort, and that simple lock wouldn't be enough to stop even one determined man. Cooper reached in for the last of the subway tokens, dropped Amelia's bag, and slipped off his shoes, setting them just outside the window. Taking one more breath, he lifted himself out to what he hoped would be safety.
He, too, landed on his stomach, but he moved swiftly, pushing himself upright, grabbing his shoes and running silently down the alley towards the veil of darkness at the other end. He refused to allow himself to think about rats or garbage or pickpockets or hobos or even the dirt caking the bottom of his socks. It didn't take long, all those workouts for just this type of situation fulfilling their need, and, without a pause, he ducked sideways into the first cross alley he encountered.
Stopping and catching his breath, Cooper looked around, hoping his eyes would adjust further to the pitch black space. Unlike Amelia, he truly had no choice. This lonely and dark alley was his only means of escape. Kneeling down, he put his shoes back on and laced them up. As he stood, he swiveled his head. No, he couldn't risk crossing the main alley again, even though he could see street lamps in that direction. He'd have to head the opposite way, through the lengthy east-west alley to the opposite end of the block.
Cooper put his hands up in front of him, not really as fists, but close enough that if he thought he needed to protect himself on short notice he'd be able to do it. It really was very dark and only seemed to be getting darker the closer he got to the center of the block. He felt he had no choice but to walk slowly, to make the minimum amount of noise. If Amelia had been believed - and she really was so convincing - the police might be out looking for an attacker, not just people in evening dress that looked like they'd escaped an illegal speakeasy. Twice, his foot touched something unexpected and unseen in the dark and he stumbled slightly, his stomach churning at the possibilities. And was it his imagination or was it actually colder here in the depths of this alley? He shivered slightly, somewhat relieved that Amelia had not trod this dangerous, dark, and cold space alone. Not that he was condoning her actions.
He slowed even further once the alley started to lighten as he approached the end of the block. There was a small knot of people gathered there, and he strained his eyes to make them out. How would it look for a man to suddenly emerge from an alley, dirty and with, he imagined, wild eyes? No, he needed to be careful about who saw him exit. Once he was out on the sidewalk, moving among the masses, that was a different story. He would blend in by faking a careless nonchalance he didn't feel.
The tallest person in the group of three turned in the light, and the badge on his chest reflected off the street lamp.
"Frak," Cooper murmured, ducking behind some metal trash cans he saw along the edge. The cops were this far down. Perhaps it was reasonable, being on the same block, although the east-west blocks of New York City had seemed interminable while he'd been walking and squinting and shivering down one.
Crouching and watching, Cooper's legs started to ache from the tension and the position. What was taking so long? How much could there be to talk about? Either these other two people had been in the speakeasy or they hadn't, either these people were Amelia's fake attacker or they weren't.
Surely Amelia was back at the hotel by now. Surely, once she'd drawn the policeman away, she'd found a way to extricate herself as swiftly as possible and had hurried down the steps of the subway station just across the intersection to take the quick journey back. Only one stop. Cooper longed to be back there with her. Not just for his own safety, although his rapid heartbeat told him that was still of paramount importance, or even to relieve the tension in his legs, but rather to hold his beautiful wife close once more.
He'd tried and, he thought, succeeded in being strong for her in the basement of the speakeasy. He hadn't wanted her to doubt his plan, he had pretended to be confident that he would escape unharmed, without the cloaking device, without her. But, in reality, he was terrified. What if they were discovered and arrested, what if the hotel room was linked to them and searched, all their counterfeit money discovered? They'd be tried and imprisoned, lost to time, and, worst of all, separated from each other.
Now, at least, thanks to her disobedience, Amelia was safe. She'd escaped, she'd seemed to succeed in convincing the police that she was only a victim of an unrelated crime, and she had probably already returned to the hotel. He didn't doubt that his brilliant and resourceful wife would understand his instructions for the time machine, that she would be brave enough to return home without him as soon as possible.
Or would she? Cooper's fingers clenched the metal edge of the trash can. She had already defied him once tonight, putting herself in danger for his safety; would she dare to ignore his pleas yet again for the same reason? "Frak," he murmured once more. Of course she would. The type of woman who bravely steps into a time machine with a virtual stranger is not the type of woman that meekly leaves that same man behind, stranded alone in time. Nor would he want her to be. Cooper wanted to see Amelia jut her chin out every day for the rest of his life, to challenge him and contravene him. Oh, it was infuriating, he wasn't denying that. But he wouldn't have traded it for the all the time in the universe.
"Hey, mister. Can you spare a nickel?"
Startled out of his reverie, Cooper jerked downwards but managed not to upset the trash cans he was hiding behind. He hadn't even noticed the approach of a young man in the threadbare clothes from the darkest end of the alley.
'Please, please, please, go away,' Cooper silently begged, refusing to move or make any further eye contact in hopes the hobo would leave him alone and not reveal his presence.
"Hey, you there!" A man, perhaps the policeman, called from the sidewalk. A thin shaft of weak light pierced the alley, illuminating the stranger. Yes, of course, the policeman's flashlight. "What are you doing?"
"I just need a nickel for some food, sir," the man said. "I thought maybe this gentleman would give it to me."
Cooper held his breath as the light arched along the bricks above his head.
"There's no one there. Either be on your way or I'll have to take you in for loitering."
Without reply, the man turned and ran back down the dark alley. Although he was relieved to be hidden so well, Cooper couldn't help but feel sorry for him. After counting to three hundred, he slowly lifted his head just enough to peer over the top of the trash can again. He let out a deep breath as the sidewalk was now clear.
Standing and smoothing out his new suit as much as he could, he straightened and stepped out on the sidewalk. The couple approaching him gave him a funny look, but he merely put his hands in his pockets, nodded at them, and whistled his way down the street.
It's not that he didn't consider staying in the hotel room that morning. He didn't really want to be separated from Amelia again so soon, especially after how upset she'd been. But, then, it truly seemed all the danger was past. Amelia was normally a strong, brave woman and he was certain she was just overwrought for some reason the night before. And she knew about his meeting with Tesla, it had been an integral component of their plans; he was looking forward to it the most and she knew that. Cooper also knew she'd never begrudge him this, his own adventure, meeting one of his idols, getting to sit down and spend an entire day discussing science with him.
It's not that writing a note hadn't crossed him mind. But Amelia looked so peaceful sleeping in bed that he tried to spend as little time as possible in the bedroom so as to avoid waking her. And, again, she knew what his plans were. Best to let her sleep in and do whatever she wanted today, whether it would be what he suggested or not.
But, somewhere around lunch in Telsa's hotel room, a creeping feeling started up the back of Cooper's neck. Amelia. It was a rotten thing to do, he saw then, to leave her to wake up alone without him, without any reminder of his appointment. She had been so terribly upset last night. Cooper hadn't even told her the whole story about hiding behind the trash cans and how close he'd come to being discovered because he didn't want to upset her further. Instead, he'd only told her about the subways stops, and he'd even left out how many stops he'd passed and how many trains he'd changed on purpose just in case he was being followed.
Amelia. He'd never seen her so frightened as she was last night. She'd stepped into his time machine with nary a tear and she'd stood up to her father for him without a second thought. What kind of man, what kind of husband, was he to leave her alone in that state? Yes, she'd seemed much calmer telling him the story before bed, but if it really was post-adrenal stress, it could, as he'd told her, last up to forty-eight hours.
Losing threads of Tesla's conversation now as his mind wondered, Cooper even allowed himself to imagine what it would have been like if Amelia had followed his directions, if she had immediately left the hotel room to go to the time machine and leave. He'd been delayed enough, it seemed, that he could have completely missed her. It wasn't being stranded in this time that worried him so much, it was being stranded alone without her. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He needed to find Amelia and confess what a horrible, horrible man he was and beg her forgiveness.
"I need to go," he said suddenly, standing, as one of his favorite scientists of all of time looked up at him in surprise. "I'm sorry. Thank you so much for your time. This has been wonderful but - but - there's a girl, you see. I love her and I need to tell her so."
Tesla's thin face broadened into a smile beneath his mustache. "Ah, there is no love like that of a gentle woman. May you be worthy of her." But then his face darkened and his accent, already almost impenetrable, thickened even further. "Although, I hope she is not one of these new women, giving up her gracious femininity and cutting off all her hair."
Cooper gave a small smile. History remembered Tesla as a thwarted and bitter man, but he had only been the most genial of hosts today. But, no, he didn't hold with a liberated woman, and his rages against flappers were famous. Another good reason Cooper hadn't offered to bring Amelia along. Not that he hadn't been tempted to watch his two favorite people battle each other . . .
"Don't worry. Amelia would never cut off her hair." He grabbed his hat and fled before Tesla had time to say anything else.
Amelia had cut off her hair.
Cooper knew his mouth was hanging open, but he couldn't help but stare as she smoothed the dark tresses with her palm. It was so short with heavy bangs and little curls coming forward on her cheeks. It made her look older, wiser, more experienced. Which he supposed she was.
"You hate it," she said with a frown.
"I - uh - well, I didn't expect it." He still couldn't seem to close his mouth or form a coherent sentence. This was really the last thing he expected. It completely altered the appearance of his wife.
"You hate it," she said again, the frown deepening although there was no emotion in her voice to give away what, exactly, she was frowning about. His reaction most likely, but was it possible she regretted it?
"Do you?" He managed to lick his lips and force them closed.
"I don't know. It was a split second decision. And I loved the feeling afterwards, the lightness, the breeze on my neck, but now . . ." For a moment, a spark had flared in her emerald eyes, and he discovered that the dark shape of her bangs and the hair around her face framed them in the most beguiling fashion. "I think maybe I overreacted, thinking I was proving something after last night that didn't need to be proven." She shrugged and looked down at her shoes. "You love my braids."
"Amelia," Cooper said softly, throwing his jacket aside with one hand and reaching for her cheek with the other, "I love you for far more than your braids. It's your hair and if you want it like this, well, who am I to stop you?"
There was a pause, a beat, and Cooper hope she believed in his sincerity. Tesla may have been correct that there was no love like that from a gentle woman, but Cooper wouldn't trade the love he got from this sharp and opinionated woman for a second.
"I'm glad you realize that." Amelia lifted her chin in that defiant way she had, and Cooper's heart pounded. Oh, yes, her eyes!
He chuckled in relief and wrapped his arms about her waist. "Besides, now I can see your neck. And the bangs emphasize your beautiful eyes." Bending down, he traipsed down her chin and neck with his lips.
"Mmmmmm," Amelia moaned.
One thing lead to another and, before he even knew how, he was facing Amelia's beautiful backside, her dark hair sharp and high her neck, the creamy line of her spine only broken by the rows of pearls about her neck, thigh high stockings, her heels, and that garter! It's frilly white straps did nothing to hide her posterior from him, it only accentuated her curves.
Then, later, he watched her, that hair bobbing - surely not a coincidental synonym - forward and back on her cheeks in time with her head, and she looked up him, her emerald eyes large and flashing beneath those straight, heavy bangs, as her lips curled around . . . He begged. He, Cooper Shelton, begged for her body, and he was not too proud to admit how much he wanted her. When he buried himself into her, he groaned just as loudly as she did, her body only more sweet for the days it had been denied to him.
It was a memory he would carry with him for all of time: making love to Amelia on the floor of that hotel room, the long strand of pearls gently bouncing between her breasts, the feel of her garter straps under his hands, the sharp points of her high heels when she wrapped her legs around him and pressed them into his lower back. But mostly, it was the sight of her eyes beneath that newly bobbed hair.
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