Chapter 5

You Talk Too Much

Mark found Abby up on deck about an hour later, hunched over a steel tub of soapy water. The sleeves of her shirt were rolled up over her elbows, and her hair was in a messy ponytail. She lifted one soapy hand to wipe the sweat from her forehead (the sun was beating down like crazy) and continued scrubbing what looked like one of Bob's scarves. She was completely engrossed in what she was doing, rhythmically lathering the material, squeezing out the excess water and then smelling it to make sure it was, indeed, clean. As she reached for the next item, he cleared his throat and she turned to him.

"Abby?" She looked at him with a smile on her face, but he could see that it didn't quite stretch all the way up.

"Hey Mark. What's up?"

"I...I," he suddenly forgot what it was he had meant to say to her. He stood there stupidly and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand.

"Are you just gonna stand there, or do you have something to say?" Her tone was snappy, but he could tell that she was trying her best to control her anger.

"I want to talk to you about those girls earlier."

"What girls? Oh, the ones you were bringing to your room? How did they enjoy their especially private tour with Midnight Mark? Never mind," she said as she lifted her hand to stop him from speaking. "I'll probably hear it from one of the guys later."

"Listen, Abby, I just wanted to tell you I feel really bad about what happened."

"Why? I'm nothing special to you. I mean, it's not like we pledged our undying love for each other or got engaged or something. You just said you like me. That's all," she said as she grabbed the basket of clean clothes that was beside her and stood up. She turned to leave him but he grabbed her arm. "Let go of me," she muttered heatedly. He looked around and dragged her behind the smokestack so they were out of view to anyone who might come up on deck. Once there, he took the basket out of her arms and tossed it to the floor. He grabbed her shoulders and pressed her to him, kissing her roughly. Abby pushed herself away and slapped him in the face so hard, that he nearly toppled over.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" she yelled.

"Abby, it was the only way I could think of to let you know that you're not just some..."

"What? 'An attractive female you've caught in your sights'?" Abby quoted. He seemed to remember that Gavin had told him that once and now had the decency to look ashamed. "I've been kissed a hundred times before and none of them made me feel as disgusted as I feel with you right now. And to think, I nearly fell for your crap about 'Oh, I want to be friends with you, Abby'!" She mocked his tone and movements; if it wasn't for the fact that she was ready to kill him right then, he would've laughed. But he stood in place, his hand absently rubbing his reddened cheek. "I hope you had fun with those whores from before, or maybe next time Carl's mom comes for a visit it'll be easier for you to get her in bed because you won't take you thirty minutes like the last time. Just leave me alone, Mark!" She grabbed the forgotten basket and ran off, but not before Mark saw tears beginning to form in her eyes. This was the worst he had ever felt about a girl rejecting him. Not even rejecting him; she practically spit in his face. And he actually cared.

"Lovely night, isn't it?" Dave greeted the other deejays as he stumbled into the dining room. He sniffed the air, and gasped lightly. "What is that heavenly smell?"

"Pizza. Mom's special recipe," Abby said as she knelt down to open the oven. She wiped her hands on her apron and took the pizza out, placing it on two mats she had put on the counter. The Count was the first to get up and attempt to take a slice, but Abby lightly slapped his hand away.

"Did you just hit your father?" Count scolded jokingly.

"It's hot! Besides, what if you burned your tongue and Gavin ends up doing all of your shows?" Count looked to Gavin, who was grinning at Abby's comment.

"Go on, mate. Have a slice." Count backed away from the counter and slumped in his chair, defeated. Over the speakers, Mark's intro was heard but he didn't say anything. In fact, he didn't say a word for over an hour, which was odd even for him

"Well, sounds like something's got Mark feeling a bit down. Or," Gavin looked to Abby, winking, "Someone." Abby pretended she didn't hear him and took off her apron. She touched the pan, satisfied it was cool enough, and brought it to the table.

"Eat up guys," she said, hands on her hips. Each deejay grabbed a slice and ate it with zeal. Even Quentin had emerged from his office at the smell of Abby's cooking and grabbed a slice. She smiled as he sat down (she hardly ever saw him), and he gave her a brief nod of approval when he took a bite.

"Getting back to Mark," Simon mumbled through a mouthful of pizza. "He's actually been acting kind of weird for a few weeks now."

"What do you mean, 'weird'?" Count asked, reaching for another slice.

"Well, he hasn't had any 'visitors' on board, if you know what I mean," Simon said, with his head tilted and his eyebrows raised.

"And he's been kind of quiet, hasn't he?" Everyone seated at the table looked to Kevin, who was eating the pizza the wrong way around.

"Kevin, he...just put your fucking head down," Count said, frustrated. He didn't bother to explain that Mark is always quiet. "But you're right, Simon. Something's up. He's even playing depressing songs when he's on the air." Their conversation was silenced when they finally heard Mark's low voice on the speaker.

"Now, something for someone very special." There was dead air for a split second, but Abby's ears perked up when she heard the familiar opening guitar chords.

Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away
Now it looks as though they're here to stay,
Oh, I believe in yesterday

Suddenly, I'm not half the man I used to be
There's a shadow hanging over me
Oh, yesterday came suddenly

Why she had to go
I don't know, she wouldn't say
I said something wrong
Now I long for yesterday

"He's playing the Beatles? Uh oh," Simon remarked as he slowly took a bite of his new slice of pizza. Abby sat down beside News John and discreetly whispered to him.

"Doesn't Mark like the Beatles?"

"Yes, I believe he does. But he only plays them when he's in a serious mood. The fact that he's playing this particular song means that he's putting profound thought into something important."

Abby leaned away from him when he turned away and listened to the tune. She had no doubt in her mind that he meant to play that song for her. She looked at her dirty sneakers, deep in thought. Just when she thought she finally had Mark figured out, he does something completely out of left wing and mixes things up again. She decided that it was time to make up her mind once and for all.

Abby's jaw was set firmly as she made her way down the hall to Mark's room when he was done his show. Making sure no one saw her, she turned the handle and stepped in, closing the door behind her. She saw him lying in his bed, with a scarf over his face to block out what little light there was left in the room. As she approached the bed, he lifted his hand in the air and pointed to the door.

"Whoever it is, out. Now."

"Is that how your Auntie taught you how to greet guests, Mark?" Abby teased, grinning. He shot straight up, and moved the scarf out of his face.

"Abby? You...you heard—"

"Yeah, I heard the song. Care to explain?"

"It was the only thing I could think of. You wouldn't talk to me, and I had to get your attention somehow."

"Well, it worked. I'm here."

"I know." He looked at the ground as she moved to sit beside him on the bed.

"So?"

"I'm sorry."

"I've been hearing that a lot from you," she said as she crossed her arms.

"I mean it!"

"Do you really?"

"Yes."

"I'm still not sure if I can trust you. Look at what happened with those girls, and after what happened between us..." Abby shifted her eyes away from him to look at the floor.

"Abby, I said I like you," And you kissed me, he thought. "As for those girls, nothing happened."

"Nothing? The famous Midnight Mark is losing his touch?" Abby joked, but stopped chuckling when she saw the wounded look on his face. "Do you mind explaining what 'nothing' means?"

"They left. I sent them off after I saw the look on your face when you walked out of my room. Until then, I never realized how many girls I must have hurt over the years," he looked at her guiltily. "But ever since you showed up, I'm realizing things about myself that I've kept hidden away from everyone else, because you let me be myself when we're alone together." His eyes held a vulnerability that Abby had never seen before. It's like he was taking off his mask for her, so she could see the real Mark behind Midnight Mark.

"You're telling the truth, aren't you?" Abby asked softly. He nodded and looked to the ground. Silence hung in the air around them for a long time.

"Abby?"

"Mark, I think..."

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" Mark stood up and threw his arms in the air in frustration. "Stop thinking, Abby! Feel! Do what you feel and not what you think for once in your life!" He saw a flash in her eyes as she stood up to her full height.

"You want me to feel? Fine!" She grabbed his face and brought his lips down to meet hers, nearly sending him into shock. When he realized she wasn't pulling away any time soon, he wrapped his arms around her and pressed her as close to him as possible. He felt her tongue searching for his in their frenzied kiss and he willingly obliged her, feeling her begin to slump against him.

Abby couldn't believe the effect Mark had on her. He infuriated her, he made her cry, and sometimes he even made her sick. But there was always that dangerous longing that she tried to keep buried down, and seeing him expose himself like that to her was more than she could take. She couldn't deny her attraction to him anymore; it was starting to make her go crazy.

Her eyes rolled in the back of her head as she felt one of Mark's surprisingly soft hands slide just underneath her shirt at her waist. She grabbed the back of his head as if to try and push their lips closer together. She kissed him hungrily, her head swirling as he moved against her, pressing her gently up against the wall. While he moved down to kiss her collarbone, she began unbuttoning his shirt.

"What are you doing, love?" he breathed into her right ear. She groaned lightly.

"Clothes...too many." She could barely form a full sentence and he chuckled, but then sobered. He looked into her large eyes with all the seriousness he could collect, despite the situation.

"Abby, I hope you know what you're doing. I don't want this to be a regret for you later, and I don't exactly know how experienced you are-" He was cut off mid-sentence by her lips on his again. He felt her smile and when he pulled away, there was a playful glint in her brown eyes.

"You talk too much, you know?"