I have to say, this Remembrance Day is not turning out to be very memorable. Probably my fault. Sort of. I didn't sleep very well last night. It's been a long time since I've had nightmares like that, and Kristoff spent a good portion of the night calming me down. I can't even remember what they were about, but I kept waking up in a cold sweat after something bad. Something tells me it might be related to that minor PTSD I was telling Joan about. Yeah, so I don't like admitting it, but it's there. And sometimes shit like this happens. Alright, I gotta focus now.
There's honestly not a whole lot of ceremony. We stand around, we say a few words. Some people have speeches that I listen through patiently. I don't have anything to add—at least not out here in the chill wind next to the graves. Everyone pays their respects. Those who have jobs they can't avoid filter out of the cemetery. Myself and a handful of others walk to a cafe just down the road. A cafe we once shared breakfast at, after a midnight ride. It makes today more special, somehow.
I sit next to Lefou, opposite Adam. Belle isn't here. Neither is Christian. Or Kristoff. A couple of the other cops sit with us, and we just eat in silence. Eventually Lefou opens a conversation.
"So, memories on film, or in megabytes?"
"People still use film?" One of the other cops laughs.
"I like pictures," I fish the locket out from beneath my jacket. "It lets me keep her close."
"Digital," one of the others declares, flicking through pictures on his phone. "One picture would never be enough for my brother."
"If you'd seen her…" I shake my head, looking at her picture in my locket. "Nothing could capture a beauty that sublime."
"Or this idiot." And a different guy shows me a clip of him and his partner doing something hilarious in the patrol car as the chief walks past. I almost spit out my drink when the chief leans in through the side window.
"You two got so busted."
"It was worth it. Somehow he made living that life so much easier."
"It's been a long time though."
"It has, but it's not all bad. I remember you told me that."
"That sounds way too wise to be me." I look surreptitiously at my drink. "I have a reputation to uphold."
"Just because you think you're a clown…" Lefou's fixing me with that look. "Doesn't mean you can't also be wise about these things."
"Yeah," I lean back in my seat. "It just took a while longer to learn them."
There's a chorus of agreement around the table. I give them a mockingly hurt look, and they just laugh. The rest of the morning is just all of us telling our stories. I listen, and try to make appropriate comments. I'm supportive, as much as I'm able to be, but this has never really been my greatest strength. I leave somewhere between Lefou and a cute young officer who I shouldn't be thinking about like that. I'll make it to the workshop by lunch. At least, if the traffic's not too heavy. I've got my bike here, and putting on my riding leathers it looks like traffic is starting to build up for the lunch rush from the offices.
I check around me quickly and kick the starter, the bike roaring to life with a satisfying growl. I twist the throttle and pull out into the flow of traffic, following a semi-trailer most of the way to the workshop. Kristoff is outside, leaning against the roller door to greet me.
"You're late."
"Stuck behind a semi most of the way here. Anyway, anything on in town, seemed heavier than usual for lunch."
"Couple of accidents, minor, but blocking the main road," we walk inside. "Had lunch yet?" I nod.
Ten minutes and I'm up to speed on the project. Simple. Custom work platform to go in front of some machinery. I spend a little time to make a cutting list, then get busy on the drop saw. The rest of the day is cutting steel and linishing sharp edges before welding. By closing time I've welded and re-squared the top frame, and set up the legs for welding tomorrow. It's been a good day—nothing especially memorable, but it still feels good. It was like a lot of our days together, really.
It's a lot later in the day now—or night, whatever. I'm lounging at the foot of Joan's bed, and she's half hanging off it next to me. Upside down. We still haven't had that talk about children, but she's decided she's not ready for it yet. 'Give it a few more years' she says. I'm thinking more of a decade, but just because it happened later for me doesn't mean I should try to influence her. Too much. So instead of a serious talk, I'm talking to her about you. I think it was a week before your treatment was due to start.
"So, I'd just gotten my license back…"
"Hey, you were driving—riding, whatever—to work."
"It was provisional, okay; only to and from work."
"Oh, okay. Keep going."
"I'd just gotten my license back…"
—∞—
I was in the garage, up before noon. I'd actually taken a couple of days' leave, to help Elsa deal with some final physio stuff before really getting back into her dancing. I think she found the fact I was up before noon more incredible. She was still out, and I was tinkering just a little with my bike. And by tinkering I mean I'd just finished installing the pillion seat. I had a grand plan to take her for a ride around town, with her wearing my spare set of leathers and a helmet I'd 'acquired' from another friend. So of course it was raining, the noise deafening against the roof of the garage. By lunch time it had eased off, and I made my way back into the house.
In the kitchen I looked warily at the tide marks from my blood. Today there wasn't even a twinge of fear—even holding the knife to slice some ham. Part of me wondered if it was just a one time thing, and maybe I'd be okay from then on. But from what I'd read, PTSD wasn't exactly a predictable thing. There was a memory—the flash of pain from getting stabbed—but that was it. A couple of minutes later and my ham and cheese was sizzling nicely in the sandwich press. I knew I'd regret having to clean it later with all that extra cheese, but I was mysteriously hungry that day.
I'd also forgotten that tomorrow was Halloween, and that Elsa was looking for parts to finish a costume. That, however, wasn't important until rather later in the day. The most important thing at that point was lunch, and trying not to spill melted cheese all over the city map. I'd already decided that our ride could easily take the better part of two hours, maybe three. If the weather played nice, I would show her the sunset from bald mountain. We wouldn't spend the night there though, because a) I lacked any kind of camping supplies, and b) I quite liked the idea of us poetically riding off into the sunset.
I also made sure my phone was fully charged, just in case. I wasn't sure what I might need it for, but I figured it was probably a good idea anyway. It was about an hour later that Elsa got home, looking a little frazzled, several shopping bags hanging off her arm. I had opened the door for her, and she leaned over to kiss me on the cheek. She also sniffed experimentally at the air, as if there was something she couldn't quite place. She frowned at me.
"Did you have bacon for lunch?"
"Uhh, ham and cheese toasties, actually."
"That will be it. Did you save any?"
I waved my hand noncommittally. "Nope. Didn't know when you'd be back."
She pouted at me.
"But I guess I can make you something if you want to freshen up a bit."
"A BLT would be nice. And we'll see if you've learned how to make tea properly yet."
"Yes, sir." I gave her a mock salute as I turned away, and I heard her laugh as she walked up the stairs. It didn't take long to make the sandwiches, and this time I let the tea brew just a little longer. With a plate in one hand and a mug in the other I felt like a '50's waitress. I actually kind of liked the feeling. I sat next to Elsa as she ate, and told her about my plan for the afternoon. She was a little apprehensive, but seemed interested enough. Looking at the clock, I was surprised by how late it was. I decided it was time for us to get ready.
"Come on, lets suit up." I grabbed her hand and led her to the garage, getting only slightly wet in the persistent rain. The weather still wasn't playing ball.
I started with the pants, nice, thick leathers for winter—it was getting colder after all. As I leant over to grab my jacket I felt playful smack on my backside. I turned around to see a smiling, blushing woman who portrayed the very picture of innocence. Or so she thought. I wasn't sure how I felt about it, but I knew the spirit it was given in, so I just played along, making a grand gesture of very slowly pulling my jacket on before doing a hair-flick as I turned around to face her, jacket undone—along with two buttons on my blouse. Her blush was suddenly much deeper.
"Anniken, must you tease me so?" I could hear the edge of desire and frustration in her voice.
I gave her a playful wink. "You started it."
She sighed, shaking her head in embarrassment, taking the pants I was holding out for her. She pulled them on slowly, over her jeans, making a show of it. I wasn't about to complain. I re-buttoned my blouse and zipped up my jacket, then opened the garage door as Elsa was pulling on the jacket. It was a little tight out front, but that rather worked in her favour, being leather and all. I felt my cheeks burning as she locked eyes with me, knowing exactly what I was thinking.
Letting her hair down, I almost didn't notice how close she'd moved to me. Or maybe I'd moved closer to her. Our lips met in a fiery kiss, and our hands roamed across each others' bodies. There was grabbing, and somebody may have gotten bitten. It took us a minute to compose ourselves. I gave her a searching look as she took in my leather clad figure with a lustful gleam in her eyes.
"I didn't know you were so into leather, miss Frostad."
"It is not just the leather," she smiled brightly. "It is what is inside the leather."
We kissed again, more softly this time, and donned our helmets. The rain outside had eased to a gentle drizzle. I straddled the bike and wheeled it out onto the driveway. I kicked the starter and the bike roared to life, the engine pitched at a satisfying growl while I idled in the driveway. I felt Elsa getting on gingerly behind me, her arms crossing just beneath my breasts. I turned slightly to see her better.
"Don't squeeze too hard, they're the only ones I've got." And with that I turned and took us down the driveway, roaring up the road to the next intersection, following the planned route in my head. I could feel Elsa hanging on for dear life, close to crushing the breath out of me. I decided to take a left, off the planned route, and down some of the older industrial roads. They weren't used as much, so I could let off the throttle a bit, allowing us to talk a little better.
"Are you doing okay back there?"
"It's still a little scary."
"Well, as long as you let me breathe, we'll be fine."
"Oh…" she sounded chagrined. "Was I really squeezing you that hard?"
"Nearly," I admitted. "I've come back here so you can get used to riding for a little while, okay?"
"Thank you." There was a long pause. "Hey, is your work along here?"
I had no idea why she was asking. "No, almost the other side of town, actually."
There was quiet as I spent about five minutes going up and down the road, weaving through a couple of oddball intersections at the abandoned warehouse. I was even tempted to try a little drift in the lot there, but probably not the best idea with a passenger. I also upped our speed along the main back road, the engine roaring between my legs as we shot down the straight. I rode back into town, dodging most of the cross traffic to get us to the larger park on the outskirts of town—the one with the lake—and then back towards the city centre. It was getting late, and by now both of us were getting a little hungry. Thankfully I knew a little out of the way bakery near work, and pulled into a space just outside.
I pulled my helmet off and tried smoothing down my helmet hair to little effect. Elsa did the same, her hair much more manageable than mine. I looked up before going in, finally noticing that the rain had stopped, afternoon sun breaking through the clouds in shining rays. I turned Elsa so she could see it too. She smiled at me and we went in hand in hand. The owner made no comment, and I bought a neenish tart and a small ginger slice, while Elsa bought herself a large chocolate donut, and a small bottle of iced tea.
We sat on the bench outside, enjoying our food. We talked—or tried to—but there was so little to say. I had a sip of her iced tea—really not my thing—and she tried a bite of my neenish tart—finding it far too rich—and after finishing our afternoon snacks we saddled up again, helmets on, and rode out into the work traffic making its way home. Luckily we were going against the flow for the most part, and made good time. Half an hour later and it was open roads to get to bald mountain, and I could really open up the throttle on the bike, roaring along the asphalt, Elsa holding on not quite so tightly any more, finally enjoying the rush as we sped down the road. I was scanning the road ahead carefully for any vehicles, but none were present.
I twisted the throttle even further, and now Elsa was really holding on tight, watching the speedo over my shoulder. She didn't say anything, but I could almost feel her wavering between exhilaration and grave disapproval. It wasn't often I had the freedom to do something like this on an open, empty road. After a few minutes I slowed us to a reasonable speed and pointed ahead, towards the mountain. I knew we could never reach the snow-capped peak, but there was still an amazing overlook several hundred feet up, and that was, for some reason, a less visited tourist spot.
We rode up the switchback roads to the overlook, perhaps a little slower than usual, as I could feel Elsa twisting around behind me, trying to take it all in. Wonder seemed to be overtaking her fear, and as we made it to the overlook she stepped off, her legs not even shaking this time. I slapped her on the back as I took my helmet off, hanging it over the handlebars. I even tried finger-combing my hair, but it didn't go well. Elsa was too busy looking out at Universal City to notice. It was too far to make out individual lights, but there was a glow to the city in the early evening as offices and houses switched on lights as the sun grew low on the horizon. I pointed that out to her too, over the lake.
"It is a pretty sunset," her hand found mine as we stood at the edge of the overlook. "But I think there is more you wanted to show me."
"What, riding like a maniac wasn't enough?" She laughed as I gave her a devilish wink.
"That may be too much, but I know you—I think I know you—by now, miss Anniken."
"Well, I really did want to show you the sunset from up here. It's just a pity about the weather. I mean, there's a couple of cans of coke in the saddlebags, and couple of chocolate bars, but it's nothing special."
"Maybe we can eat somewhere nice on the way back, my shout," Elsa smiled at me. "But I would also enjoy just spending this time with you, while no-one else is around. I think it might be dangerous for you to keep wearing that leather jacket."
I smiled warmly, completely missing the innuendo at first. It finally registered as I was taking out the second can of coke after stuffing the chocolate bars into a pocket. It quite surprised me, actually, that right then and there was where she would admit to wanting it. I felt it when I handed her the can, her fingers lingering far too long against my own. We were both sitting on the crash barrier at the edge of the overlook. There was a little patch of grass just below, but it would be quite a hike to get back up.
"I don't think here is the best place, if what you want is what I think you want."
"And what is it you think I want?"
"Sex." I found it very hard to hold back a laugh at her sudden blush.
"I would," she admitted. "But here is not right. I'm just… well… it's… not for a long time now. Not with anyone who cared about me half as much as you do. But if you start wearing those leathers around the house I cannot be held responsible for what my body does to you."
I swallowed heavily. She was no longer blushing about anything. "It's been a long time for me too, but I've never… not with… not with another woman."
"Well, it will be a learning experience, no?" Her lust was so obvious it was almost painful.
I practically threw the chocolate bar at her. "Here, stick this in something."
"Is that a suggestion or an order?" She moved closer to me as she spoke.
"Maybe I should leave you here so you can cool off overnight." I swung back and forth on the rail, hoping she saw the humour in my words.
"You would not be so cruel." Her arm was around me, and I didn't want to fight it. Or the fact she was not so subtly feeling me up.
"Maybe not," I stood slowly, and headed back to the bike. "But this place is appallingly public—and you did promise me dinner first."
She sighed, standing behind me. "I did. Shall we go and devastate some rich snobs with our leather clad beauty?"
I gave her a withering look. "You don't have a single ounce of shame, do you?"
She smiled brightly. "Not tonight. Not with you. I think you are a bad influence on me."
I got the feeling she was right—and that she liked it.
