Rain slanted against the window and tapped across the ledge, causing a tapping sound to enter Misha's mind. Behind the closed eyelids of the sleeping actor he envisioned his wife typing away on her computer. It irritated him, somehow, that she was typing instead of crawling into bed with him and wrapping her long, tan legs around his waist. She looked so beautiful wrapped around him and smiling as he kissed down her smooth neck with softly chapped lips.
"Carse," Misha spoke out. The typing continued in an almost hurried manner. Fervently the keys tapped tapped tapped as her long, elegant fingers flew across them and created a vision only seen inside her mind. Her mind was a work of art that mesmerized her husband, who could never quite place where her mental finger would point next. Tap Tap Tap.
Carson tip toed across the beige carpet with a silent smile playing across her lips. The soft light coming from the hall outside the married couples bedroom splashed over Misha's adorable sleeping face. His mouth slightly open, arms tucked under his pillow with one leg out of the blanket and the other curved underneath the comforter. Misha's back was lean and muscular, curving down to a round, firm butt that Carson was about to jump on. Stepping close to the edge of the bed; she leaned back onto her hunches and pounced onto her husband. Tap Tap Tap.
"Carson, love," Misha called once more to his always-working Wife. Her deep blue eyes finally turned to look at him but her fingers never stopped moving over the keys, "Come to bed," That sentence echoed loudly around him and mingled with her typing. Carson smiled, her fingers moving faster, Misha turned his head and sighed against the tapping, the ever present tapping. "OOF"
The actor's unearthly blue eyes flew open as his breath left his body in a woosh, "Oof," his mouth opened further, before closing once more and shutting his eyes, "Its raining," The tapping slapped against his window and he shifted under his wife's weight.
"Yes, that's what they call water falling from the sky," Misha's eyes opened and rolled up to look at his wife.
"Smart ass," at the word 'ass' Carson pinched Misha's who jumped and turned himself under Carson. Carson's legs shifted so that they draped on either side of Misha's pelvis. She smiled down at him, flipping her hair to the left side of her neck and winking at the Russian man. Misha winked back and lifted up so his chest pressed against hers and his arms wrapped around her back,
"Morning," Carson whispered before pressing a kiss to Misha's lips. Misha kissed back before suddenly pulling away and looking at the alarm clock flashing next to him. 5:27 flashed back in neon blue letters, "Why are you awake so early?"
Carson shrugged, "Aid starting crying and I remembered you had to wake up at seven anyway so I just stayed up. I walked in here and you looked so appetizing that I couldn't resist taking advantage," She smiled seductively but ended up bursting into laughter. Misha kissed her neck and made Carson's laugh turn into a sensual purr. She tilted her head back further and lightly scratched her nails across the shoulders of her husband. Misha kissed his way back up to her lips and held her flush against him, flipping them so that she lie on her back and Misha snuggled himself between her legs. A moan escaped the golden blonde as she felt a hardening member of her husband pressing against the inner side of her thigh. Her hands traveled down his back, leaving light scratch marks in her wake, her fingers touched the edge of his boxers before sliding under and pulling the boxers down. Her nails bit the flesh of Misha's ass and caused a moan to escape him. Pulling the rest of his boxers down, Carson let her husband slide her sleeping shorts down, her panties going with it. Misha bit her lip when his fingers slid across the heat of Carson's sex. He kissed her once more as his right hands middle and ring fingers slid inside her warmth. Carson let out a sigh that turned into a groan when the door opened further and a little boy entered the room.
"Mama, Daddy," Maddox called to them as he walked towards the bed. The mother and father rushed to make themselves appropriate as their oldest child climbed onto the bed. His mess of golden blonde hair sticking up everywhere, blue eyes weary and a yawn escaped his lips.
"Madd, what's wrong, baby," Carson shifted her undergarments quickly before taking her son in her arms. The little boy snuggled against her bosom and looked at his Dad, who was wiping his fingers across his boxers.
"The monster is back, Daddy, I saw it," Maddox frowned. Carson looked at Misha who sighed at his son's words. A few months back Maddox's stuffed alligator fell under his bed and was left there. The little boy woke up in the middle of the night and saw the shadow of the stuffed animal, he freaked out and ran right to his Mother and Father. Misha had taken the alligator from his son's room for a few days before returning it back to his rightful place next to his son's head. Lifting up from the bed Misha reached for his son, "Madd, buddy, why don't you show Daddy where the monster is," the father and his son exited the room as Carson fell back on the bed and sighed.
The kitchen smelled like toaster strudels and chocolate milk, a strange kind of concoction that Misha normally never placed together. Aida was in her high chair with honey nut cheerios scattered across her white table. Her small, nubby fingers would pick one up and pluck it in her mouth, letting drool fall onto the pink fingers with a smile around them. Maddox let go of his father's hand and rushed to his seat at the table, his booster letting him reach the table top and plate placed on his Iron Man mat. Carson turned his way and laid a toaster strudel before him then smiled up at Misha and winked.
"What time are you leaving for the airport?" She took a bite of her own strudel.
" 'bout 8. When are you suppose to come up again," He stepped around the table and over to the coffee pot.
"Not until Friday. Anna is coming over Thursday to take the kids and then she'll fly up with them about Tuesday," That was their usual work time conversation. When did Misha have to film? When was Carson on meeting schedule and how was Annalane going to get the kids up there to see their parents. It wasn't an ideal kind of schedule, but it was theirs and they couldn't ask for anything more or less. Misha took a sip of the coffee and swallowed down the dark liquid. Carson made a face but didn't say anything to him, she just chewed on her strudel and let the comfortable silence sit where it was. The small family finished up their breakfast with little problems. Aida threw her cearel at her brother who just stared at her while she gave him a three toothed grin. Misha couldn't help but feel his heart swell with joy at the image before him. This was his family, his life and he couldn't ask for more.
The airport was stuffed full with people trying to get where they needed to go and Misha felt like his world was standing to a crawl. Nothing unusual happened that could have explained this occurrence. He wasn't feeling ill or anything it just felt like the time bubble around his person was slower then the rest. One moment he was kissing Carson goodbye and waving kisses to his children, the next he was watching the airport move in slow motion. Maybe it was from lack of sleep or to much coffee. Carson always complained about how much of it he drank. He had to pull his limbs along to keep walking and even then the invisible molasses around him kept him stuck. Kept him from moving at a normal speed and slowed him to snail pace so that the world around became a frozen mirage. Misha lifted his left hand to his temple, feeling it pull through the air before it rested against his head. Rubbing the best he could he tried to pull a semblance of normalcy back to him and that's when he saw it.
The man stood off to the side of the terminal with his head bent so that his long black hair just brushed his chest. He was taller, nearly as tall as Jared himself, except he was very lanky. His arms were bent at the elbow with his thumbs hooked in the belt loops of his paint stained pants. Misha tried to look closer and see what was so peculiar about the random man, why this dream liked state seemed to point him out amongst all the people in the building. The man looked up, his eyes black. No white, almost like the demon eyes the show used. His lips curled into a Cheshire cat smile that sent shivers down Misha's spine as he continued to stare, unblinking, at the actor. Misha stepped towards him slowly just as the man sent a wink his way and everything clicked back in place. Suddenly Misha was staring at an empty row of chairs as people zoomed around him. One person knocked into him and nearly sent the actor sprawling before he caught himself. He never got to see who it was but a string of cuss words were evident. Looking back to where the man once was Misha shook his head and continued making his way to his flight. His mind slowly faded the entire experience that just happened and erasing any memory that the black eyed man was even there.
"I'm confused," Mark pulled one of the Styrofoam containers out and started packing food on it. Misha stood beside him and did the same.
"Confused about what? Its to raise money and I was really hoping I could convince you to do it," Mark shook his head as he dropped a pineapple slice. Misha continued to explain his latest idea for Gishwishes. Mark continued to give Misha raised eyebrow looks, but it was what needed to happen and Mark needed to be the one to do it.
"So what you are wanting me to do...is make a ten year deal with a bunch of fans...they do know I don't actually make the deals," The British man was starting to cause Misha to want to punt him in the head.
"No, see, you'll answering the request for help on doing some of the ideas. It'll be things as simple as saving a dying child or ending world hunger,"
"Oh, only those simple things," Both actors shared narrowed eyed looks before Misha cracked a smile and laughter ensued from them both, "Okay, I'll do it," The British man agreed before departing to his trailer and leaving Misha to his own devices. Looking around for a person to sit with, Misha either saw people on their phones or crew members trying to make last minute adjustments before the next scene. Jensen and Jared were nowhere in sight. With a simple shrug, the Russian man made his way to his trailer whilst shoving some of the mango salad into his mouth. Entering the trailer, Misha placed his food on the built in plaid couch before digging into his pocket he procured his cellphone and dialed his wife's number.
1...2...3...
"Carson's phone,"Anna's voice sounded winded which raised curiosity in the man.
"Where is my wife," There was a loud bang in the background before Anna answered.
"The Newman's came over to see the new lines for the commercial..well they brought their pet poodle and it turns out Maddox doesn't like poodles," Misha didn't know whether to groaned or laugh when he heard a high pitched squeal then his wife throwing profanities at what he would guess was the dog.
"Carson having to catch it,"
"Carson is having to get Aida off of it," That did it. Misha broke into booming laughter at the image of his baby girl on top of the dog while his wife chased it down trying to rescue her daughter. Misha went to tell Anna he'll call back later when there was a muffled 'oof' then an exchange of the phone before his wife's voice sounded.
"We are never getting a poodle. I think I broke half my body and found a way to be an acrobat without any of the training," She paused, "Hey Babe," That caused a smile to form on his lips.
"Hello, love, I was just making sure everything was alright, but seems that is moot now,"
"Moot is a vague way of putting it. I got an extra pay on the lines though thanks to three bite marks across my leg and an unfortunate broken vase that was "a family heirloom" They felt bad and now are banking me on the next three interval commercials, score!" He could literally see his wife fist pumping, but wait family heirloom vase?
"What vase?"
"Oh..uh...the one your Mom gave us for the wedding," Misha did a face palm.
"Bet you were happy about that,"
"I plead the fifth. How is the set?" The went back in forth about the show and when Carson will be up there. A knock at Misha's trailer door pulled him from the blissful phone call and reminded him that they'd be filming soon.
"I have to go, I love you, "
"I love you too and will see you Wednesday," With that they hung up and Misha made his way to the door. He swung it open before reaching over to grab his coat of the counter. Stepping towards the door he froze when he finally looked up. The person before him wasn't Tracy, the p.a. who led then to their assigned places. No she was someone from Misha's past that he had deftly resigned to thinking he would never see again. Ever.
"Hey, Meesh,"