Disclaimer - Maria Frank is my own creation. Some slight warnings, but nothing too serious.

Chapter 6: Night of packing

Later that night, they both sat there on her apartment steps, sitting in silence. Earlier, Maria had handed in her paperwork, knowing it was going to hurt doing so. It felt like she was signing her death warrant. Now, they were both there. Neither wanting to speak; just ponder what they had left.

An hour after they sat down, Maria wanted to break the silence, but she didn't know how to. Instead, she leaned over and placed her head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry," She whispered. "It's just what I have to do."

John sighed and reached over to hold her hand. "I know and it's alright. You don't have to apologize every time. That's something that I'm not used to, really."

She wrapped her arm around his, as if clinging to him. "Get used to it, my man. I'm going to be saying it until the day I leave."

Wanting to find something to do, John thought back to her second day he had helped her unpack. "Want me to help you pack?" She lifted her head and looked at him, pondering that question.

Leaning over, she pressed her lips to the corner of his mouth. When she did, he couldn't get the muscles in his jaw to work. All that did work was his eyelids as they closed from the contact. "Please, I would love for you to help me with that."

Working their way up the stairs, John's mind began to wonder. From all of the his girlfriends and wives, none of them were this caring of him. He knew that Maria cared deeply for him and she had shown that. At the start of last month, she had tackled him down onto his bed and undressed him herself. It was the first time she had taken charge and control of their nights together. She had controlled everything that night and he remembered that he had indeed lost control of his mind. No one had ever done that to me before.

Entering her place, Maria reached over and pulled a box out from under the table. "I was working on putting more books in here. Never thought that I would be leaving with more stuff then I arrived." She said as she picked up a book with a picture of John F. Kennedy on the front. John had given it to her four months in. "You're sure that I can have this?" She asked softly, holding the book up.

John looked up from what he was placing in the box. "I gave it to you. Trust me, I have five more just like that." He gave a small smile, adding more books to the box.

Packing boxes was the usual thing that night. Four boxes sat in the corner, filled with papers, files and books. Within a few hours, all of her books were packed, except for one. In her hand was a large book that she had owned for many years. The Mysteries of Amelia Earhart gleamed in the bright light of her lamp. She bit the inside of her bottom lip, wondering if he would accept it. "John, I have something for you."

Looking up from the box he was sorting out, he looked down and saw the book being held out to him. "But...you love this book." He said, looking confused.

She shook her head. "This is the book that got me into this subject. I have three more at home. Please, take it. I really want to have it as a gift from me to you." Sighing, he took it from her hand and flipped through it. "I had taken some side notes about certain points. They might come in handy."

"Thanks," was the only word he could say before pulling her into his arms. He took a deep breath, taking in her easy and calming scent. Peeking over his shoulder, she saw that it was almost ten at night. She could feel her exhaustion taking over her sights and she could feel John's weight sinking into her arms.

"You can always stay the night." She whispered, his head pulling back to look at her. His eyes showed the exhaustion and his face showed how truly tired he was. "Go on. I'll be in a little bit."

From the smile on his face, he really didn't needed to asked twice. As she closed the last box and shut off the lights, he undressed to his boxers and climbed into her warm bed. He wrapped his arms around her pillow and took in her smell again. The scent was comforting enough to lull him to sleep.

Walking in, Maria couldn't help but to sit on her side of the bed and stare at his face. He looked so young even at his age of mid-forty's. His blackish hair draped over from the usual place. His bangs, always combed back, hung down almost over his eyes. Looking down by his blanket covered legs, Alex had made himself comfortable, resting his head on John's calf.

Smiling at the both of them, she changed into a loose t-shirt and snuggled close to a sleeping John. His arm moved in his sleep and draped over her, pulling her closer. Kissing his sleeping lips, she hid her face in his neck and drifted off.

To be continued...