GUNPOWDER SHOWER

January 24th - 9:40 AM


Somewhere a clock was ticking. Somewhere a phone was ringing. But he couldn't stop either in his head. The ticking met the ringing and they both met the heat that burned even more gaping holes in his body. Eventually, he just forced himself to wake up, however that seemed to be anymore without eyes to open, and hunted for the phone that was half buried in dust in the pocket of his jeans nearby.

Lily stirred against him as he moved around, but she remained mostly content as he answered the call and lay back down.

"Yeah, what?"

The voice of reason, anger and disgust hit him like he knew it soon enough would.

"Do I even want to know where the fuck you're lost at?"

"You assume too much for your own damn good, you know that?"

"It's my job, you moron. You're blind."

"Right, don't forget to remind me of that every chance you get."

He heard Shane sigh and then soften her tone.

"Where are you? Are you with Lily?"

"Why?"

"Jeff."

With a grumble, he lightly rolled the base of his palm where he felt Lily's shoulder.

"Yeah. With Lily. In the middle of…"

"Nowhere," he heard a tired whisper under his chin when he felt a kiss.

"Yeah, nowhere."

Shane didn't sound pleased but it wasn't something new to him.

"Any idea when you all might decide to come back to somewhere…? We still have a drug lord on the loose."

Sands felt Lily slide away from him and sit up. It sounded as if she were getting dressed.

"Tell her we're heading back now," she murmured as she pulled on her t-shirt.

"We're heading back now."

"I need you at the hotel, Jeff. Andy has a full tape of the guys from last night. You've got to decipher these voices."

"Okay, alright."

His jeans and shirt landed on his chest as he worked to get them on as Lily stumbled between him and the truck with the leftover beer.

"We're on our way."

With a satisfied snap of the phone, he shoved it into the pocket of his dirtied jeans again and stood up to shake out the blanket, fold it, and follow the sound of Lily's boots on the rocks to get back to the truck. They both got in and she started the engine, rubbing her eyes with a yawn.

"I'll drive you back to the hotel to meet Shane."

"No."

Lily sat frozen as he reached over and felt for her cheek to hold it in the palm of his hand.

"Shane can wait."

"But she needs your help."

He wished he could roll a pair of eyes, "She didn't need it when she tried to haul ass out of D.C without me. So she can wait. I'm not ready to leave you yet."

Lily smiled as he leaned closer toward her seat, the heat from his mouth covering her all the more when his full lips came within mere inches of hers. She didn't close her eyes, she let them stay fixed widely as she watched him kiss her delicately, like the very first time he ever did. His mouth was searing and still gentle, like the brush of a feather on fire. And surprisingly, she never once felt his tongue beg entrance. Something about his kiss was refreshed and childlike, as if he were lost and ready to admit her eyes were his own.

He pulled away and she felt her heart strings being tugged at the same rate.

"I can't stop thinking about how much I love you. I can't stop thinking how you're all mine finally."

She said nothing, only leaned back into her seat as he did, holding her hand tight.

"Let's go back to the motel. I want to be with you all day."

"What about Tuz--"

"I don't care." He cut her off directly as she gasped into silence. "It doesn't matter anymore."

"You can't mean that. All these years you've wanted to catch him…"

As he sighed, he muttered, "Twelve years."

"What?"

"I said twelve years. You asked for twelve more of what you had last night. It starts today. Screw em', screw Tuzla, I'm about you now. Twelve years, twenty years, fifty, this is what matters to me."

Lily didn't know what to say, so she just pulled back down the dirt path to the road, and set off to find her way back to the city outskirts again. There was silence from the both of them, as each one thought about the other for miles and let Hotel California and Margaritaville fill in the spaces leftover. She could hear him hum and he could hear her tap her fingers on the wheel as she slid down Cactus Road all of a half an hour later, but neither one said anything, still.

She pulled into the motel parking lot and nearly ran over a young guy in the process. With his hands in his pockets and a baseball cap hiding his face, she couldn't make out how young he was, but he seemed to be aimlessly wandering the area. After he crossed in front of the truck, she sped up toward the room and parked. Standing at the door of her room though, smoking a cigarette and eyeing them suspiciously, was Carter.

She turned off the truck and jumped out first, still anxious about what had happened between them the night before. She hoped he wouldn't say anything to Jeff, but she didn't know for sure.

"Morning Danny."

He winked at her and crushed the smoke butt under his boot toe with a grin.

"Harvard. What are you doing driving an armored vehicle around town?"

She turned the key into the door half behind him as she heard Jeff stumbling close.

"I was hungry."

"A huh," he teased, having already noticed the gold band shining on her finger in the sunlight. "And you didn't bring me anything?"

"She wasn't hungry for breakfast tacos, genius," Sands shot back as he reached the door.

Lily's face turned red when Jeff caught her hand in his, with his freakish sense of direction and sound.

"Alright, alright I can take a hint. As you were…"

Carter held his hands up in defense with a wide smile, stepping back as Sands pulled on Lily's arm. Once inside the room safely, they shut and locked the door.

"Think you could be a little more of an asshole to him?"

He turned back to her voice, where she was standing near his side.

"He wants to fuck you. I can tell by the way he breathes."

'Don't say anything, Lily. Keep your mouth shut' she thought desperately.

"So what? You're not jealous are you?"

Her teasing instantly rattled him and he stalked blindly upon her, making her feet move backwards, leading a path toward the tiny bathroom of the room.

"Wife." He pointed at her.

Then he pointed to himself, "Husband."

Lily giggled a little and grasped his t-shirt, pulling him along until her bottom hit the bathroom counter and he growled, "I already won."

Sands lifted her onto the counter and fell between her legs, squeezing the tight denim of her thighs as she worked with the button on his jeans. She pulled his shirt off, he did hers the same, and somewhere in amid the madness of tearing off clothes again, Lily turned the faucet of the shower on. He could taste the steam, smell it, feel it covering the both of them as the moisture beaded and rolled down where their skin touched in between.

He kicked off his boots as he trampled in the direction Lily was leading him by nothing more than the waistband of his boxers.

"What do you say we get cleaned up?"

He chuckled darkly and let her pull his boxers away as she pulled him through the shower curtains.

"Scrub a dub dub, baby…"

Lily giggled and threw him against the tiled wall, reaching for a nearby box of motel soap. She lathered it under the heat of the water and replaced it to the dish below, while her hands hit the burning and taut ripples of his stomach, rubbing smoothly.

"Feel good?"

She watched through the steam, as his bottom lip became trapped in his teeth. She knew she had him. Lily let her fingers and palms trace over the curve of his waist, down over his hips and around until they moved through his legs, gripping his inner thighs as he grunted out overhead in the rushing water.

"Sounds like a yes."

"Well, it's a hell yes."

"Glad to hear it," she whispered, moving her mouth down to kiss the soft skin just above the crop of tiny black curls on his lower stomach. Her tongue wove inside of his navel and he laughed out, unnerved completely, and pulled her up and against the next closest wall in the shower.

"You would make one hell of an interrogation specialist for the agency, darlin'."

"Would I?"

He nodded and bit at her lower lip, when he had found it. "Terrorists wouldn't stand a chance lying to you."

She smiled, grasped at his hair and let him lift her body higher against the wall. And no sooner had the water begun to wash away the soap, no sooner had Sands growing desire met the heat and resolution of hers with a single inching thrust, than everything was put on hold with a pounding on the door of the room.

Both of their heads turned to the noise, stopping their movements.

"Carter?"

He shook his head at her soft questioning and let her feet hit the floor of the shower again.

"Jeff, who do you think--" she was quieted by his wet hand over her mouth. Then he found the dial of the shower and turned it off.

Lily tried to voice a mumbling concern under his hand, but he didn't listen to her. He only managed to help get her out of the shower, wrapped in a towel that took him forever to locate on the counter, and to keep her silenced against the angry pounding and shouting from outside of the room.

"We know you're in there, sweet thing! Open the door!"

"Get dressed," he finally commanded, harshly, but protectively.

She flew from his arms and rushed to her bag on the bed, pulling out a clean pair of jeans and a plain black tee. Lily got dressed, still dripping wet, faster than she ever had, and only saw flashes of Jeff from between her own movements and the sound of kicking boot heels and guns on the door. When she threw her wet hair into a tie out of her face and felt his arm wrap around her waist, tugging her toward the door only seconds later, she also saw a gun in his free hand.

And then, she saw him hold it out towards her.

"You have to do it."

"Jeff…"

"Lily, you have to."

He shoved it at her until she took hold of it, wearily. Somehow he was able to follow the perfectly common floor plan of the small motel room until they were standing together in the corner near the yellow curtains. Sands leaned against the wall, holding Lily against him tight with his hands over hers on the gun.

"Can you see anyone?"

His voice was anxious sounding, serious and silent, and it made Lily focus hard on the shadows of movement through the window of the room. There were two men, possibly three, darting from one end to the other, trying to see inside at her, at them, but failing from their hiding place in the corner.

"Two men."

"Shit, okay…"

"No wait." She interrupted him, eyeing the curtains view more carefully and feeling his fingers twined with hers over the trigger of the gun. "Three, there's three of them."

Her head rested in the crook of his shoulder and neck. Lily could feel and hear his heart beating like crazy next to her ear, she could feel his hands growing stiffer with every shout from outside by the men and every failed attempt they made to knock down the door of the room. And then, she heard the sound, recognized the scent and acknowledged the sensation of a gun from the outside, trying to shoot its way inside.

Sands held onto her tighter, moving the gun higher in the air, masking his complete ignorance of the situation with his memory of other moments in his life like this.

"Think you can hit one of them?"

Her eyes grew wide with fear. Lily had prepared for this with beer bottles and flat tires. Not moving, living, breathing targets.

"I can't…I…"

"You have to," he growled nervously. "You can do this, Lily. I'm right here. Just aim and shoot."

"Jeff."

"Lily, please. Do what I say."

She could hear the frustration in his voice, the uncertainty, and she wanted to change it. She wanted to make him proud, and prove that all the training and arguing and begging to come along had been for something.

Lily found her focus then, under his hands, under her perfect view of the black shadows of men outside.

"Aim and shoot, I know you can…" he whispered peaceably, with a hopeful sigh.

And then, when the shorter shadow moved close to the window, peeing inside, she pinched down on the trigger that housed his thumb and hers together, and released the fierceness of smoke and fire through the window, stirring a whirlwind shatter of glass all around them.

Lily screamed with eyes shut to the world, listening as the man who she'd shot, the one she'd killed with an instant bullet to the head, fell to the ground near his comrades.

"She's got a gun! Get in there, get her!"

She knew there was more ammo in the gun, but in fear for her life, she turned and pulled at Sands, trying to somehow cover him and her at once.

"They're coming inside…Jeff…they're coming to get me…"

"No they're not."

His voice was fearless and ready for a fight, as he pulled on her hand, leading the blank way toward the opposing wall of the room, facing the doorway that was nearly falling off the hinges.

"You have to kill the other two."

"I can't!"

"Yes."

He shoved her to the wall, the way as before, his hands safe on her waist as she held the gun alone this time.

"When the door falls you have to fire the gun!"

"Jeff, I can't do it."

He heard the tears, the relentless sobbing and choking on her words. But he couldn't let it hurt him. Not yet.

"You have to do it. You will do it. Just focus…" he hands were soft as they reached up, sliding down hers until they held onto hers on the gun, ready and able, soothing and reassuring, "…I'm here, like I promised. I'm right here to shoot with you, Lily."

It was the last sane thing she heard before the brass hinge on the door snapped off and flew inside of the room with the tilting door itself. Gunfire and smoke blew across the open area in front of them, Sands felt the heat of the moving bullets and desert air from outside on his face, and heard the terror of Lily's screams, which broke down and melted every one of his bones, his muscles, his strength.

There were at least two dozen bullets fired before he even realized that he'd been hit. And at least another five, before he fell down with Lily in his arms, and realized that the warm blood he felt on his bare chest wasn't the same as the blood from his leg.

It was hers.

"Lily…Lily!"

There was no answer.

He shook her underneath of him, tossed her head about in his hands, felt her chest, listening for sounds of breathing and got nothing but the silence of three fallen bodies, two of which were enemies.

"Lillian, answer me…wake up! You're fine, you're alright!"

The source of the blood was evident as it trickled through the torn hole in her shirt, where he held his palm, trying to relieve the pressure of the bleeding from her abdomen.

"Answer me…Lily please, baby talk to me…"

She wouldn't though, because she couldn't. And although he wanted to cry a full length ocean of tears, he couldn't either. That's what hurt the most. The fact that he wanted to, and couldn't now.

Sands fell down across her body, letting the blood gush from his leg to the carpet, unconcerned for his own well being, or loss of consciousness, or paleness as he fell into a dreamlike state. He whispered with continuous begging, hugging Lily close to him, brushing back on her hand under his nose and chin, kissing her cheeks and forehead like mad, all in a somber attempt to bring her back to him.

He didn't know if she was dead or unconscious, shot or killed completely. Nor would he know, when only minutes of agony later, he found he was losing his sense of reality as fell, drifting out of the world of awareness and into his nightmares, right where he always seemed to belong.


Jeff's Apartment – February 28th, 1996

6:32 am


He had sat there, in the chair at the foot of the bed, watching her late into the night as she slept. He counted her breaths, and studied the way her chest rose and fell with such deliberate peace. He learned habitually how often and at what intervals she would toss her head in an opposite direction on the pillow, and how she would twist her legs under the covers, and how she moaned softly at whatever was going on in her dreams.

Outside, the thunder and lightning had rolled throughout the city most of the night, teasing his head as he sat with it in his hands, glancing up a few final times as the light came to the room. He'd gotten the call he had dreaded after Lily had fallen asleep. It was the one he had hoped wouldn't come for at least a few days, the one that was going to do serious damage. He could feel it as he got up to take a quick shower.

Tom was meeting him in the State House at quarter after 7, and from there they would be driving to Brooklyn. Tuzla had been spotted there overnight, boozing and hounding at a small club, only streets away from the hotel room he'd rented out. Tommy had told him not to say anything to Lily, not to even wake her up. Jeff didn't particularly like the thought, especially after what he had gone through just to get her to his place the afternoon before, but he didn't have a clue what to say if he did wake up her, so he had to go along with it.

He jumped out of the shower minutes later, dried, and threw on a clean pair of jeans and an old t-shirt. After he messed with his damp hair a little in the mirror, watching his eyes grow red with the need to cry and not knowing when or how, he pulled on his hooded sweater and turned out of the bathroom.

The second he opened the door though, he wished he hadn't.

He was stopped dead in his tracks by the sight of Lily, sitting on the edge of the bed facing the bathroom door, wrapped in a sheet and holding a scowl that moved mountains. He tried to take a breath and found he forgot how to.

"You lying bastard."

Her eyes were as red as his were, but she didn't hesitate to cry and let them slowly soak themselves as she spoke.

"I can't believe you were going to run out of here without saying anything."

Jeff stepped in to say something then and she leapt down to the wood floor to meet him, looking up into his eyes with a fierceness and determination newfound from the night before, even stronger than she had been in the café.

"Was it good, Jeff?"

He looked at her confused and sick to his stomach at what he was doing to her, "What?"

"The fuck I let you get off on!" She yelled up at him as she swung her arm out and hit his broad shoulder. "I hope it was!"

"Baby…"

"Don't…" she held up a finger in his face, stomping in front of him on her bare feet, tears covering her face, "Don't you dare, baby me."

She held onto the sheets tighter and moved out of his face and away from his warmth to gather her clothes off the floor.

"Would you stop?!"

He begged, coming in behind her to attempt to bring her into his arms. She only flinched and pulled away as she bolted into the living room in search of her purse.

"Lily!" He shouted out as he followed after her, catching a short glimpse of his white sheet as she stormed out of the door of his apartment. It nearly slammed shut before he slid his hand through it and ran out behind her. "Lily…you can't go out there like that, it's freezing…STOP!"

"Stay away from me, Jeff. Stop following me!"

She ran down the hall with him on her heels, brushing the sheet along the tiled floor of the apartment building as she quickly ran down the stairs, Jeff's shouting waking up a dozen or more people before they poked their heads out of other doors.

"I'm not letting you go, this is crazy! It's my job!"

With a handful of clothes, her purse and shoes, Lily ran faster, shouting behind her as she got closer to the front doors of the building.

"I'm done with you and your job…"

He grumbled with a stomp of his boots onto the bottom step, rushing as she fell through the front glass doors in a daze, the sheet just missing the doorway as it shut behind her. He reached it and pulled hard as he ran out into the cold, completely shocked at how she could manage to stand there, in the middle of public on the coldest day in February, in nothing more than a sheet fresh with the scent of passionate lovemaking. Her hair was a tumbling, tangled mess of curls down her back, her skin glistening in the hazy, storm ridden Boston morning, and all of this a show for curious onlookers all heading to work.

She stood on the curb in her bare feet, jumping up and down as she held the sheet tight, begging for whatever taxi would stop for her.

"Taxi!"

"Lily!"

She whipped her head around, hair flying and eyes brazen up at him. "I said, leave me alone!"

"Not a fucking chance."

Her head shook, angered and tense, but not caring that crowds of people were forming on both sides of the midtown street. Her arms wove through the air as she shouted.

"Just get in your car and go, Jeff! Get the hell out of here and don't ever bother coming back!"

"I'm not leaving you like this…"

"As if you care." She replied silently, too broken to raise her voice at the note. She instead saved it for her cab hunt, "Taxi!"

Jeff came towards her and took hold of her arm gently, not meaning to cause a scene, but forgetting momentarily just who he was dealing with. "Let go of me!" She yelled, shifting away and further down into the icy gutter. "I don't ever want you to touch me again. Just leave and don't bother letting anyone inform me when you get yourself killed…"

He bit his lip in the cold, watching her shuffle as a yellow cab finally pulled up for her. The crowds of people were all deathly silent as Lily threw her things inside of the backseat, talking to the driver for a moment before twisting the sheet more securely at her chest and glancing back at him on the curb. She didn't say anything. She only looked him straight in the eye to see that he was unwavering, and that he had truly intended to run off without even mentioning it. He had planned to leave her asleep in his bed, dreaming of him, so that she could wake up to another empty, abandoned morning in his apartment.

But she didn't and he couldn't, so she shook her head quietly and moved inside of the taxi, letting it slowly pull away from him for good.

Jeff stood there watching until he couldn't see the yellow roof anymore down the street and it turned the corner toward her apartment's block. He thought about how he should have ignored her brother's insistence and just woke her up, made her breakfast, kissed her a million times to prove he was coming back and that he was coming back for real. She might not have been happy, but she would have at least crawled back into his bed after he had left.

It didn't truly register then, on that street corner in Boston, but years later it would come to his mind in silence, while he made love to a stranger from a bar, the one Lily had tried to be for him, that his bed sheets had never felt so good, or smelled so good, or been slept in so well since she had run off with them wrapped against her bare skin.