Hey guys,

I'm still going with this, even though it's not getting such a good response. Not too many shuis fans? Anyway, thanks a bunch MahoganyMiss for your review and support.

Enjoy, and please review:).

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by: dandelion

Chapter One

"Thank you." Was the greeting she received that morning as her blue eyes left the swirling coffee only to rest upon his handsome face. She acknowledged him quietly for a moment, wondering what it would be like for him to shave the slight stubble off his cheeks. He would look clean-cut, she decided, perceiving that her scrutiny unnerved him.

"For what?" She asked finally, returning her gaze to the expensive mug that had her name imprinted on it with a fine layer of gold. Out of the corners of her eyes, she could see him shift uncomfortably and attempt to fix the dark tie around his neck.

"For the aspirins."

Sheridan nodded with recognition, raising the mug to her lips and downing a healthy sip of her black coffee.

"I'm leaving." He announced upon earning no response from her. With a deep breath, he lifted his briefcase off the ground. "Aren't you going to give your husband a kiss goodbye?" He posed dryly, his pulse racing slightly at the thought of her lips touching his skin.

The chair's legs screeched as they scratched against the ground's tiles. She took four short steps to stand directly before him, a juvenile inch separating them. Luis blew out a wavering breath turning his cheek towards her, but that obviously wasn't her idea of a goodbye kiss. Trailing a manicured finger along his jaw, she turned his face towards her and leaned up, pressing her lips against his. The kiss was short, but good. He liked it—a lot—and knew that he'd never admit it.

Clearing his throat, he took a step backwards and dropped the hand that had unconsciously rested at the curve of her waist. His gaze met hers for a minute before he opened the door and slipped out quietly, slamming it behind him.

"Goodbye darling," She muttered sarcastically, her fingers unconsciously feeling her warm lips. Good kisser that husband of hers, even when he didn't want to kiss—or be kissed in that case. The heavy rock on her finger caught the light as she slid it off and carelessly dropped it on the kitchen counter. Martha should arrive soon, she noted silently, wandering out of the overly expensive kitchen and into her room. Hers and Luis'. Only he rarely slept there. Most of his nights were either spent on the couch, drinking himself to oblivion or in the guest room. Oddly he left all of his possessions in their room, and showered and shaved in the master bedroom's bathroom. It was as though he did it for show, and she wouldn't have been surprised if that were the case. Their life was just one colossal façade, fed by fibs, lies, and the crumbs of the epitome society. She was sick and tired of it all.

The achingly wonderful scent of shampoo, soap, shaving cream, and deodorant lingered behind like a token of his presence, attacking her senses in a powerful army of soldiers facing a submissive victim. It was a difficult task to ignore it; the aroma was fabulous—so clean, so fresh, so manly—so Luis. Lifting the note he'd left her with distaste, Sheridan rolled her eyes. Couldn't he have just told her?

Davidsons' Gala Dinner tonight at 8:30. I'll be home late. Please be ready when I'm here.

Luis

She crumpled the senseless note and tossed it into the trashcan. It was final; she would never understand that man.

Groaning, she picked up the shrilling phone and brought it to her ear. "Hello… Monica! Lovely to hear from you. Yes, darling, it's exquisite thank you… last night… yes I believe he did… again I adored the design, thank you… Luis just left for the office… I'll tell him… sure… you can call him at the office, he should be there by now… yes… alright, darling, see you tonight then. Goodbye." She slammed the phone down with an impatient huff. She couldn't possibly withstand any more of that… flirting. It wasn't flirting. It was bitching--pure and true. The woman could not make it more obvious that she wanted her husband. Vulgar as it was, it slid by unnoticed by everyone she knew because they all knew that Luis was a willing participant in the show of infidelity.

Her nails dug into her palms when the phone rang again. Mustering her politest voice, she answered. "Hello… hello darling… I assume Monica called you… I don't… don't hold your breath then… I'm not being snappish… last night was noth-… I should have figured you'd want something… yes I did get your note… wouldn't it have been much easier for you to tell me than to leave a note and then have to check back that I actually got it… you know what I take that back, I'm in no mood to argue with you… Good…" But he had already slammed the phone. Certainly not by any means what she would call a civil conversation. It was anything but. The night before had been glorious, she'd felt so close to him, yet so detached. Her husband was the first to ever decline an offer of a night of passion… from her at least. She'd really had him there, right where she wanted him: on top of her, leaning into her, kissing her. If she'd pushed just an inch further she knew he wouldn't have ever said 'no'. But she had to be at her most decent behavior, always. That alone was tiresome and required more of an input of effort than anything else. For once, she'd want to throw caution in to the wind and push that juvenile inch too far.

Sheridan never would though. She knew it far too well, and so did Luis which was precisely why she posed no threat to the guise he fought so viciously to maintain. He could wear his mask, and she would gradually wither away.

They walked in together with glamour, his hand just barely touching the naked flesh at the small of her back. The feathered contact sent shivers running down her spine. Their smiles glowed in the light of the camera flashes present to cover the posh event. Her blue eyes glowed with the gap in her pretense. She felt ill to the stomach, but she was too accustomed to the whole ordeal. Survival wasn't an option. It was a necessity. To belong, to exist among them, you must survive.

His hand dropped back to his side the moment they were safely introduced into the ballroom. The warmth it had provoked slowly wilted away as an elderly couple approached them questioningly.

"What a beautiful couple, Ralph!" The woman exclaimed gushingly, finding the perfect way to impose her sudden appearance.

Her husband, a fairly healthy old man, smiled and his shiny black pipe dangled thoughtfully from his parted lips. "Lovely." He agreed, his eyes lingering for a moment too long on the stunning blonde.

Luis laughed sociably, stretching out a strong hand to shake the older man's hand. "I'm a lucky man." She would have burst out laughing had she not spied Monica Simmons heading towards them purposefully. Deciding to ignore her for the moment, she settled her gaze, alight with humor, upon Luis. He had just finished introducing them to the pair of welcome strangers.

"Sheridan, a divine name. So rare. So familiar." Ralph Wilson, as his name turned out to be, commented with what she thought was once a charming smile. "What's your maiden name?"

"Crane." She uttered in response, her eyes fluttering towards Monica who was exchanging glances with her husband.

"She's Alistair and Katherine's daughter, Ralph." Mariah pointed out helpfully. "You look fabulous, but I'm sure your husband has already told you that."

Luis smiled amiably at the mention of his name, but she doubted he knew what the woman was talking about. "He has." Sheridan lied readily, sliding her arm through his.

"We'll leave the two of you now. It was a great pleasure meeting you…" A few more words were shared before they walked away to set another victim.

Luis stepped forward deliberately to free his arm of hers. The notion was cold even as a faux smile strode onto his lips. Monica Simmons finally stood before them, her pale blue dress baring an indulging view of her cleavage. Her husband made no secret of his admiration as his dark eyes lingered on the exposed skin.

Sheridan cleared her throat, stepping forward to stand beside him. "Monica…" She acknowledged pleasantly, glancing sideways at his achingly handsome profile.

"Sheridan, Luis! What a pleasant surprise!" Her dark hair was arranged in a chignon and her pouty lips twisted into a lustful smile. The puff to her rose-tinted mouth was definitely the handiwork of an operating room.

"Nice to see you." Luis added, grabbing a drink off a passing waiter's tray. "I loved the tablecloths. The colors are wonderful. Thank you."

"Oh, Luis, I'm glad you liked them. I thought they would suit your taste." She laid a delicate hand on his inner arm, an act too comfortable to be made in front of his wife. Sheridan brushed away the sickening feeling in her gut and watched as the woman slowly slid her hand away, never breaking the eye contact she had with her—clearly—unfaithful husband. Right then, she was glad when she spotted Matthew Laurence weaving his way towards them. Despite the fact that his presence and obvious feelings for her unnerved Sheridan, she felt it was appropriate for him to arrive right then.

Luis turned his attention away from Monica when Matthew reached their side and smiled cordially. "Luis," Sheridan interrupted. "This is Matthew Laurence, an old friend." Smiling, Matt's blue eyes glittered as he hissed a silent 'hello' and brushed a friendly kiss to her cheek. "Matt, this is my husband, Luis Lopez." So strikingly opposite in appearance, the two men shook hands firmly, an undeniable look of recognition passing between them. It wasn't a pleasant one at that. Matt's sandy-colored hair was fixed to perfection and his blue eyes were proper even by the way they surveyed. Luis, on the other hand, was on an opposite drift. His dark hair wasn't messy, but there were no severe attempts to make it look good. He had just combed it after his shower and left it. His brown eyes sparkled with virtually unveiled shallow emotions to everything around him. Shallow emotions, she thought bitterly. With her husband, she couldn't possibly plunge deeper than shallow emotions.

"It's nice to finally meet you." Matt admitted, looking away from Luis to settle his gaze upon Sheridan's glowing face. "I wanted to make sure I gave her away to someone who was worth it."

She knew that the comment angered Luis and it gave her an odd sense of pleasure. Monica lingered about for a bit after Matt's arrival, but then left to have a drink at the bar. Her husband tensed, closing his fist tighter around the flute of champagne. His dark eyes glittered with what she deciphered as suppressed rage. "I'm sure you did." Luis said tightly, raising the drink to his lips and downing the final gulp of the tart liquid.

"I sure hope so." Matt repeated. "It was just so sudden, the marriage and all. I wasn't around the last few months that it happened, so I feel like I haven't really absorbed the entire thing." Being self-explanatory came with the territory for Matt. It was utterly adorable at times but downright annoying at others. Right then, it just made everything all the more uncomfortable.

Luis winced, cleared his throat, and seized another flute of champagne. "I guess the live proof will help with the absorbing stage." He shot snidely and took a sip of his beloved drink.

Sheridan shifted uneasily and pinned Matt with an even gaze that wasn't hard, only scrutinizing. "How was your trip?" She asked in an attempt to cast the topic of conversation away from her marital life.

"Successful." He conceded with a dimpled charming smile.

"As always." She commented with no particular meaning behind her words.

"Are you up for a dance, Miss Crane?" Matt invited good-naturedly, setting his drink aside.

"I certainly am, and it's Mrs. Lopez." Her smile emphasized the sparkle in her eyes as she slid her hand into Matt's outstretched one. Luis nodded in mute agreement at Matthew's inquisition if 'it was alright'. In fact, it wasn't. Far from it. It felt horrible to have that… specimen of a man hanging all around his wife.

They made their way across the dance floor and stood amidst the crowd. Matthew drew his arms around her, and it only took them a few seconds to fall into the rhythm and dance like they'd done it dozens of times before. And they had—often. If she hadn't met Luis and married him so quickly, she would've been married off to Matt eventually. That wasn't so bad, she conceded.

"Is everything alright?" Matthew posed in genuine concern.

"Were you really upset about the wedding?" She turned the question to him, satisfied at the glimmer of uncertainty that appeared in his eyes. Beautiful eyes, she thought. Such a light color.

"About you not being single or about not being here?"

"Both." Sheridan prodded, quietly studying the handsome angles of his sharp face. He had a pointed nose which often gave the impression that he was a hell of a showoff. And he was… sometimes.

"Yes, I was." The reply was curt but honest to a fault.

"What about?"

"Both." He said evenly, meeting her blue eyes with his own. "I had a hard time believing you'd given up on us for the hope that you'd found something everlasting." She averted his gaze as her eyes momentarily filled with tears. They disappeared almost as quickly as they appeared. Matt smiled. "Was it as good as you thought?"

"Even better." Her voice didn't wobble as it uttered the worst lie of all.

"That's good." He swallowed—hard. "I hope all goes well for you. God knows you deserve it."

She smiled slightly, pondering whether it was good or bad that she deserved this. Bad, she decided moments later. Very bad. Luis appeared when the song hit its final note, breaking them apart to 'dance with his wife'. His hold on her was a tad too tight, his demeanor slightly harsh as he stared at her face for a moment only to look away when she smiled at him.

"You know I would have never figured out you were the jealous type. You don't come off like that." Sheridan observed calmly, watching with the corners of her eyes as Matt nursed a lemon-flavored vodka on the terrace… alone. He looked lonely and she felt dreadfully responsible for anything he went through.

"I'm not jealous." He snapped impatiently. "Laurence and I are just not exactly too warm about each other. I'd rather you stayed away from him."

"I'm not going to stay away from a lifelong friend because you don't warm up to him." Her tone was so icy, it was almost mocking. "Don't be ridiculous."

"My concerns are not ridicule." He said angrily, glaring at her smug face. "Stay away from him." There was a threatening undertone to his usually empty voice.

Sheridan leaned up, pressing her lips to his cheek closest to his ear. She could feel his mild shiver at the intimate contact and felt a shrill of satisfaction bolt through her. "Would you stay away from Monica if I asked you to?" She hissed heatedly, bathing the sensitive organ with a rush of warm air from her throaty laugh.

"Stop that." Luis demanded, fighting to keep his sensations under control. "Monica is a relative."

"Obviously not close enough to keep you out of her bed." Her offhand implication left him speechless for once. He even felt a bit humiliated himself. He hadn't exactly made an effort to keep his affairs from his wife, but he'd assumed she'd be torn about it… not so callous. It was just as well, he thought. The 'couldn't-care-less' attitude certainly bounced both ways. So he said nothing in reply. There was just nothing to say. The song came to a close and she slipped out of his arms and very apparently made her way to the balcony. His temper flared, but he said nothing. He couldn't.

Monica turned up a few minutes later and hung all over him. He wouldn't have minded had he not been so determined to keep an eye out on his wife. Even though the dark haired woman was quite the distraction, he witnessed the chaste kiss his wife bestowed upon Matthew Laurence's lips. It drove him to rage with jealousy. The truthfulness it represented and the lack of lust in the kiss was what had honestly set him off. It seemed driven by emotion and not just a spur of the moment kind of thing.

He wouldn't cause a scene. It just wasn't him to do so. Luis would handle it when they got home and that was right at the very moment. The decision was abrupt, thought Monica who hadn't noticed the closely huddled couple. It had taken Luis a whole five minutes to have Sheridan wrapped in her mink coat with her farewells said and in their dark limousine.

Not a word was spoken during the fifteen-minute ride back to their mansion.