"Filling the void: The story of Sierra"

Quint had been very excited when he'd heard that Martin and Ellen were moving to California. At last! Another male to spend time with! He had been around women so often, lately, that he felt his eyelashes would curl! He felt uncomfortable constantly around women. Bored. Always having to watch his language, his manners and not drink too much. Elena was always complaining that he was spending too much time on the Orca 2, Lizzie always wanting him to take her or her friends somewhere...which was a pain. There was only his old truck and Elena's classic Kharmengia, a tiny two-seater made of tin! Hauling anywhere from three to eight giggling, sceaming teenage girls in a small, enclosed vehicle was pure, unadulterated torture! But the slumber parties were the worst! Teen girls running through the house screaming, packing into the bathrooms and dominating the phone line every second caused Quint to question the choice he made about becoming a father! But, he was retired and he really didnt have anything else to do. He got his pension check from the Navy. He'd pay the bills and usually spend what was left at the Harbor bar. Elena still had her money and Quint was still adamant about not spending a penny of it. But even when he could go fishing without Elena bitching at him, he still found himself quite bored. Actually, he felt more unfullfilled than bored. He missed his Maria fiercley. She always knew how to fill this emptiness he so often felt for so many years. She was exciting, never boring, never 'same-old-thing'. Whenever she saw that he was feeling 'down' or 'out-of-sorts', she'd break out doing something crazy! Like, the time she stripped down naked and threw her fringed tablecloth around her. She got up onto a chair and did a little peek-a-boo dance for him. Then there was the time she snuck up behind him and put her silky soft hands over his eyes and made him guess which famous actress she was pretending to be - and then what room he was going to have to chase her into! With Maria, it wasnt always about the sex. In fact, he had more sex with Elena than he ever did with Maria while he was seeing the two. It was simply the fact that she knew exactly what it took to make him feel good. He felt good just being with her. She knew how to listen, what to say, what to do. With fondness, he reminisced about the weekend he was left home, alone, when Elena had been invited to fly to New York with Ellen to attend Ellens sisters wedding. Lizzie was spending spring break week with a friend and Mikey was staying at school. Maria had a friend of hers, who was a carpenter, turn the lower storage area of the Orca 2's cabin into a "captains quarters", complete with a queen sized bed and opening portal windows. Then she fixed it all up with colorful. exotic, sheer scarves draped all over the inside of the lower cabin, then had strewn large, velvet pillows all around before leaving a note for him from "some sailor named Joe" asking him to go and check his boat because "someone was seen messing around it". When Quint got to the Orca 2, he found her below, waiting for him...wearing a silky, see-through 'harem-girl' outfit, a bottle of chilled wine and a plate of fruits and cheeses on a stool at the end of the bed...the exotic aroma of incense burning, soft music playing on the portable radio, the oil lamps burning... Oh, he would never forget this night. Especially since it was the night that he had made her pregnant with the child she was carrying when she died in that car crash... No. He would never forget that night. *********************************************************************** It was now the middle of june and summer had come early to Bodega Bay. It was hot and sticky and just plain miserable. Elena was laying in a chaise lounge under the sprinkler on the lawn, over beneath the willow tree in the front yard. ("In Amity, they say 'yahd'", he heard Brodys voice say, then smiled to himself). They were alone. Lizzie had went with some friends to Lake Berryessa. Quint sat himself down on a chair on the front porch, out of the sun. Elena had insisted he stay home today. She was afraid he would get sun-stroke if he went out on the boat. It was too hot to argue. It was only ten in the morning, but it was already 80 degrees. He let out a sigh, wondering what he could do today to keep from getting so bored that he'd get cranky and start nipping at everyone. He couldnt go visit Martin. Ellen flew to Boston to see thier son, Michael, graduate. Martin claimed to have a head cold and couldnt fly so he could stay here and spend time with Dawn. Quint was going to have to find somewhere to go - anywhere - before he was just simply bored to death. He didnt care where..just anywhere away from this house. It was making him stir crazy. He finally decided to just go into town and mill around, try to find something to get into. "I'm goin' on a beer run", he told Elena, stepping down off of the porch onto the walkway, "..Want anythin'?". "You shouldnt drink so much in this heat", she nagged, not taking the cool cucumber slices from her eyes to look at him, "...youre going to get sick!". Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. "I didnt ask for instruction, woman", he growled, "I just wanted to know if you wanted anything from the bloody store!". "No thank you", she replied curtly. "Fine!", he snapped as he walked down the path past her toward his truck. Jesus H christ! It seemed the older she got, the bossier she got. It drove him crazy, but...he loved her. She'd stood next to him through some tough times, she was the mother of his children and...Lord!...she was great in the sack! That, alone, made him stay with her when he felt that everything else just wasnt so important anymore. When he began to feel like he was ready to give it all up and he couldnt get his hands on Maria, he'd just, literally, grab Elena up and carry her off to the bedroom. Ten minutes in the sack with her and it would satisfy him for a day or two. He'd had her only an hour ago, but, today, it didnt seem to work like it usually always had. He was just too restless today. He was hoping he'd find something in town that would take his mind off of his swelling restlessness. He parked his truck in front of the Bay Cafe and went inside, hoping to find some sailors inside having lunch that he could spend a few hours chatting with. It was pretty empty, but he stayed to have a sandwich and a glass of beer, anyway. Frank McClaridge, the cafe owner, greeted Quint a few minutes later. "Kinda slow today, eh, Frank?", Quint grinned, a mouth full of corned beef and sauerkraut, winking at Kate the waitress, as she passed by. "Oh, its still early yet...and hot", Frank replied, "...I'll get 'em in for the lunch hour, though, even if its just for the air conditioning!...I just turned it on...can ya feel it, yet?". "Sure can", Quint chuckled, "...Nice and cool". Frank walked back into the kitchen wearing a satisfied grin. "Can I get ya something else, Mr. Quint?", Kate grinned. She was a middle aged woman about 45, red hair poufed up like they wore back in the '60s, always wearing a smile. Quint often wondered if she was smiling because she was happy or had just learned to do it over the years because of her job, dealing with people. After Quint left the cafe, he wandered down to the docks. Just about everyone except old man Casey, the harbor master, was out on the water, trying to escape the heat. Quint sat and talked to Casey a bit before heading to the Harbor bar. A couple of local fishermen that Quint knew were there, Pete Abernathy and Rick Strickland. Rick was telling Pete about this new girl that had just moved into town about a week or so ago. "I hear she's Casey's daughter!", Rick said, "...His youngest. Shes got this real strange name, but, boy! Is she a babe!", he winked as he lifted his beer in a toast, grinning like a fool. "Whats her name...?", Pete asked, curious. Pete didnt seem too bright, Quint thought, but he was a damned good fisherman and he had a wife who loved him...therefore he couldnt be doing too bad in life! Rick was the smarter one...he was alot sharper than Pete and a womanizer with a wife who always seemed to be pregnant...which made Quint like to hang around with him. Next to Rick, Quint didnt seem like such a big whore. But Rick liked to hang out with Pete for almost the same reason...he hung around Pete to make him look smart and for a handy alibi when his wife went looking for him when he was out with other women. Quint ordered himself a beer, then sat down on the other side of Rick. "You two dont mind if I listen in, do ya?", Quint grinned, "...sounds interesting". "Not at all, Quint!", Rick grinned back, "...I was just tellin Pete here about this new girl in town...". "...But whats this funny name she's supposed to have?!", Pete prodded impatiently. "Lets see....its something sort of 'western' sounding...", Rick contemplated, "...hmmmm...". Pete started giving him hints, "...Dallas?....Er, Annie?". "Annie?!", Rick sneered, "How the hell is that western?!". "You know!", Pete looked suprised that Rick didnt get it, "...As in Annie Oakley?". Rick and Quint burst into laughter. "Pete, yer a dumbass...you know that?", Rick chuckled, "...Anyway, NO, fool!...Gimme some more hints....maybe we'll hit on something!". "Annie Oakley...", Quint giggled, grinning like a fool as he sipped his beer. After Pete gave Rick several ideas and none hit, Quint started in with his own ideas. "Raylene?...Betty Joe?...Bobbie Joe?", his curiosity now peaked as high as Pete's. "No...no...", Rick shook his head, getting frustrated himself, now, "...let me think...". Suddenly, he got it. "Her ex-husbands name is French...", Rick said, snapping his fingers, "...Deveroux!...Thats it!...Her name is Sierra Cheyenne Deveroux!". "Wow", Pete commented, "...That is an odd name...". "To hell with the name", Quint snorted, "I just wanna know of she's cute!". "Youre a dog, Quint", Rick said, "You know that?". "Bow-wow!", Quint smirked. Rick laughed, shaking his head. "Besides", Quint retorted, "You've got alot of balls calling ME a dog". "But I dont have a babe at home like you have, either!", Rick replied. "Maybe if you wouldnt keep her knocked up all the time so she'd be too sick or tired to follow yer cheatin' ass around town, she could get her figure back and look better to ya!", Quint shot back in his best smart-assed manner. "You shouldnt be like that, Quint", Pete said, sounding sympathetic on Elenas behalf, "Your missus is a really sweet gal". "Ah, to hell with the both of you!", Quint snorted, guzzling down the remainder of his beer. "Anyway", Pete continued working on Rick for more information about what Quint, in his mind, was now referring to 'fresh meat', "...So you say she's old man Caseys youngest daughter?". "Down, boy!", Rick laughed. Quint listened intently. "Listen", Rick told them, "...All I heard was that she got into town about a week ago. She's twenty-nine years old, no kids and freshly divorced after about three years. She came to Bodega Bay to be near her dad because her moms dead and she just wanted to be near some family and that her names Sierra Cheyenne Deveroux. Shes got an older sister somewhere outside of California. Now, if you wanna know anything else, go over and ask Casey". He then ordered another beer. "I just came from seeing Casey", Quint said, "And he didnt mention anything to me about having any daughter". "Of course he's not going to tell YOU!", Rick snorted, "Youre a damned womanizer!!...He wouldnt want his baby girl to get hooked up with the likes of YOU!!". "Who the hell says I'm a womanizer?!", Quint looked legitimately shocked. "Everybody says!", Rick shot back. "Yeah, Quint", Pete added sheepishly, "...everyone knows about that girl you brought to Santa Rosa to cheat on your wife with...". Quint sat silently, but his eyes were wide and angry. He suddenly slammed his mostly empty beer mug down hard on the bar, "...Is that all anyone in this bloody town ever do is set around and talk about everyone else?!!". He gave the two guys a glare that would've curdled milk, then stormed out. He walked swiftly toward the store. He was going to get himself a couple of six packs and a half pint of brandy and just go home. He'd get drunk by his damned self! He walked straight through the store, to the coolers in the back and took out two chilled six packs of cheap beer, then walked up and sat them on the counter. The hard stuff would be on the shelves behind the counter. "Good morning", the girl behind the counter smiled as Quint sat the beer down in front of her, "...is there anything else I can get for you, today?". Quint perked up. Smiling, he thought of a reply he could make to that question, but, noticing her sweet, innocent smile, decided against it. He looked her over thoroughly. Her sweet, innocent smile harbored a little shyness behind it. He was impressed with her 'happy' eyes that seemed to dance and sparkle, yet they didnt seem to match her face. Although a pretty face, it showed signs of wear that only emotional pain could cause. She also looked like she had a strong spirit, which intrigued him immensely. He checked the rest of her out. She was about as tall as Elena, tanned skin, shoulder-length, reddish-brown hair. She had 'apple' cheeks, full lips and hazel eyes. She wasn't 'skinny', but she didnt have much of a shape. She wore a halter top and a long skirt and had a habit of constantly putting her hair behind her left ear. "Sir...? Are you okay...?", she had to ask. He was totally lost in thought, a mischevious little grin hiding beneath his wirey moustache. "I'm sorry, Miss", his smile grew, "...I guess its the heat...what was that you said again?". "I just asked if this would be all for you today...", she smiled nervously, gesturing at the two six packs between them on the counter. "Er...no...", he scratched his head, "...I'd like a half pint of apricot brandy, if you please...". "Let me look...", she turned away from him, still smiling. She looked through the shelves, then shook her head as if she couldnt find what he wanted. Suddenly, with one last sweep of her eyes, she spied a bottle on the bottom shelf, setting off by itself behind the Seagrams gin. "One bottle left!", she exclaimed, bringing the bottle to the counter after retrieving it from way down there, "...looks like this particular type brandy doesnt sell much or Mr. Bradshaw wouldve reordered more, by now...ok...will this be it?". Her smile beamed, but it was a phony sales-type smile. Or...was it? "Yes...for now...", he grinned, his eyes twinkling. 'Back off!!', he silently scolded himself, 'no more!!'. He made a snap decision to talk to take his mind off of these wicked thoughts and tingling feelings of sudden, explosive desire, "...You know....", he cleared his throat nervously, "...Bradshaw usually only orders me a couple of bottles a month...seems I'm the only one in this area who drinks this stuff...if thats my last bottle then I guess I'm at my limit!", he grinned, "...I guess you'd better tell him we're out...time to reorder". "I'll do that", she let out this little laugh that made Quints head a little swimmy and a little 'tingle' in the pit of his belly... Uh-oh. Quint knew he had to get out of there quickly. He had planned on going back by the harbor again to see Casey about this mysterious 'daughter' of his, but he was just suddenly not interested anymore. He'd had enough for the day. As he got into the truck, a pain hit him in the groin area. He looked down. "Sonofabitch!", he grimaced, noticing the throbbing erection that had just sort of appeared out of nowhere. He went straight home. "Martin's called twice", Elena greeted him at the front door, "Theyre having a barbeque tonight and want us to come over..I told them we didnt have any other plans...you wanna go?". "Sure...why not...?", he said, looking at her as if she were a thick, grilled steak covered in mushrooms and sauce - and he was a starving man. He felt the stirrings of passion back at the store and his 'manhood' had come to attention, ready for battle. When he came home and saw Elena, still amazingly firm and curvy after all these years and two children, wearing that skimpy bikini and covered in coconut oil, his desire overtook him and he took her, right there on the hall floor, barely inside the front door. She was barely able to shove the door closed with her foot before he had her pinned down with his hungry body... "Wow!...what got into you?!", she gasped afterward, so weak from the love making that she was shaky, reaching over, feeling around for her bikini top. "I think its the heat...", Quint grinned madly, leaning over, kissing her neck before getting up on his knees to zip up his trousers. "Well, I sure hope it stays hot for a long while, then!", she giggled. "Wanna take a shower with me?", he smiled, playfully. "No", she said, now standing, putting her hands on her hips after tying the last tie on the side of her bikini bottoms, sporting a pouty bottom lip. "Why not?", Quint asked her, puzzled, usually, she loved showering with him. "Because I like dirty old men!", she giggled, slipping her arms seductively around his neck, waiting for a sizzling smooch, which he gave her, his laughter muffled by her mouth on his. This all felt good to Quint...and it was a damned sight better than her nagging! They did take a cool, lingering shower together anyway, then Elena made them cold-cuts for lunch. "When's Lizzie coming home?", Quint asked, stuffing his mouth full of salami and black olives. "Probably tomorrow", she answered, sipping her iced tea, "...that is, unless she calls to ask if she can stay another night with her friend, Tessie". "So we can stay as late as we want at the Brody's tonight...?", he asked. "...Yessss...", she answered slowly, a grin spreading slowly across her face, expecting something being on her husbands mind that may or may not be wicked...but surely fun, "...Why? What have you got on your mind?". oh, I dont know...", he grinned, not taking his eyes from the food in front of him...a sure sign he was thinking of something he didnt want her to get a hint of, "We'll just see what 'comes up'...!", he chuckled. "You are so bad!", she laughed. There were quite a good number of people at the Brodys house that night by the time Quint and Elena got there at about seven. "Well...", Elena sighed, stepping out of the truck, standing next to her husband, the both of them looking at the brightly lit house with the dozens of people milling around inside and out, "...Martin did say they were having a few friends over....but I didnt know there was going to be a crowd...you wanna stay or go back home and call back and tell them that we just cant make it...?". Quint contemplated the situation a moment, then sighed, "Oh, what the hell?...Lets stick around awhile...". He slipped his arm around her shoulders protectively, pulling her close as he walked her toward the Brodys front door. "Okay...", she sighed...unsure. Martin had been waiting for Quint. He grabbed Quints arm and dragged him off to the side the minute he walked in through the door. "Elena, lovely dear...", Martin smiled impatiently at her, "...I need to borrow your husband for just one minute, okay?...I've got some people over here that dont believe how big that shark was that we caught together back in '75...". "Shark talk!", Ellen rolled her eyes at Elena, "...Now we may not see them for the rest of the night!". Elena looked disappointed. "Dont worry, woman", Quint looked at her, his expression telling her that he didnt really want to be away from her for too long...not now...now that they were getting along alright, "...I'll be back with you as soon as I'm done confirmin' the chiefs story...okay?". He lifted her hand to his lips, kissed it then winked at her and gave her a half-hearted smile before he walked off with Martin, stopping once to look back at her. Ellen pulled Elena over to the side of the room with her to introduce her to some friends from New York, out for a visit. Martin had taken Quint over to a group of guys who actually were discussing 'the big one', but the moment Quint verified Martins story, Martin got Quint quickly outside. "What the hell are you doin' Brody?!", Quint demanded to know, wondering why he was being pulled around like a rag doll. "I've been waiting for you to get here, all damned day!!", Martin hissed, impatiently. "What do you mean, 'all day'?", Quint asked, puzzled, "You told 'Lena to be here about seven-thirty...we're early, fer christs sakes!". "Thats what I told Elena!", Martin said , just above a whisper, looking around to make sure no one was nearby - particularly one of the women, "...I wouldve told YOU different if you'd have been there to answer the damned phone!". Martin was obviously agitated. "Whats going on, chief...?", Quint asked tiredly. Martin leaned in close, still afraid someone might overhear, "Dawn thinks she's pregnant...", whispering that last word as if it were a dirty little secret. Well, actually, it was. Martin scanned the area once more, visually, before continuing, "...She went to the doctor today...I've been waiting to get over there and find out wether she is or isnt, but I need your help to do that...will you help me...?", his eyes pleaded. "Brody...youre not serious...?!", Quint winced. "Deathly serious, Quint", his expression confirming it. "Okay...", Quint said, finally. "Thanks, buddy", Martin smiled, relieved. He tapped Quint on the arm in a friendly manner before heading back toward the house. Martin leaned inside the front door and hollared for his wife. "Ellen?!", Martin yelled. Someone called something back to him that was inaudible to Quint. "Then when she comes out of the bathroom, tell her Quint and me are going to the store for a few things and we'll be right back, alright?". Elena called to Martin to tell him to bring her husband back quickly and he promised he would. Then he ran past Quint toward the driveway, "C'mon...before Ellen comes out and tells me that we dont need anything [from the store]!". Martin seemed excited, like a happy kid. When they pulled up in front of Dawns, Quint knew the drill. He settled back into his seat and turned on the radio, prepared to wait an hour or more. But as Martin exited his newer SUV, Quint sternly reminded Martin not to be long...he didnt want to screw up things with Elena when they were starting to go good again and he didnt want to get caught in the middle of a fight between him and Ellen, either. "I wont be long...", Martin said, "...I just want to find out wether or not I'm going to be a dad again...I'll tell her I'll find a way to make it back later to talk about it, if she is..well, you know...". "Ok, then", Quint sighed, crossing his arms over his chest, leaning back into the plush velour seat as Martin closed the door behind him. Martin had been gone so long that Quint had nodded off. Martin woke him getting back into the SUV. Hearing the quiet 'whoosh' 'click' sound of the new SUV's door made Quint hate his old truck. When you closed the door on it, it was a loud, tin-sounding, creaky embarrassment. Quint looked over at Martin. He wanted to read his expression. Martin looked older than his 50+ years. He looked tired...haggard. "I take it the news isnt good...", Quint sighed. Martin sat silent a few moments before taking a cigarette out and lighting it. He drew in a deep drag, then spoke as he let it out, slowly, "...You know, Quint...you'd think that, by the time a man reaches our age, he'd be smart enough to keep himself out of trouble...", he turned to look over at Quint, "...after all, doesnt everyone always tell us that 'with age comes wisdom'...?". "She's pregnant", Quint commented dryly. "By nine weeks", Martin groaned, his face in his hands, rubbing his tired eyes. "What are you going to do now, Brody?", Quint asked him, genuinely concerned. "Oh, I dont know, Quint", Martin sighed, "...Dawn asked me the same thing. I told her I needed to think...". He paused a moment, then looked back at Quint as if he were preparing for what he was about to say next. He finally deep-sighed and let it out, quickly, "...She wants me to leave Ellen...". "Youre not even seriously going to consider that request, are you?!", Quint asked, suprised that he even brought it up, as if looking for his friends opinion. But Martin sat silent. "ARE you...??", Quint repeated. "I dont know...", his words came out on a long, deep sigh. His elbow rested on the window sill of the door, his chin resting in his hand. He was staring out of the window, but he wasnt looking at Dawns house. "...All I know is, I cant let her go through this alone...". Both men just sat there, silently, for a long time. Finally, Quint mentioned that they should probably be getting back to the party, but had better stop at a store and pick up some things to make thier trip look legitimate. Martin reached down to turn the ignition key, then stopped. He looked up at Quint. "Quint, how would you have handled...you know...if you'd have gotten Maria pregnant...?", Martin asked Quint with a pleading look on his face that Quint couldnt ignore. But Quint was stunned by the question. He sat back, fighting his aching heart, trying to put it aside to help his friend with as honest and as clear thinking advice as he could give him without letting his own emotions rule his words. He turned to look at Martin, meeting Martins pleading gaze with a very emotionally tired one of his own. He thought about how he could word it without making Martin sorry for asking, but couldnt think of any really polite way to ease the truth out, so he just blurted it out, risking Martins reaction. "Maria was pregnant, chief...", Quints tone low and sad, his eyes staring at the floorboard, "...when she was killed, she was just about as far along as your Dawn is, now...". "Oh, sweet jesus...", Martin hissed under his breath, rubbing his mouth as if he had just spewed forth venom, squeezing his eyes shut, sorry for having asked such a question, "...I'm so damned sorry, Quint...honestly...I didnt know...christ...I'm really sorry...". "Never mind about it, Brody", Quint told him, sternly. He'd suddenly found his emotional strength reserve, "...Now, listen to me...what I would have done with Maria has absolutely no bearing on what you should do with your own life, chief, no matter what the circumstances...you've gotta do whats best for you. Now, I'd like to be able to tell you something that would help you, but, I'm sorry...I just dont know what to say. When I was with Maria, I played everything by ear. When she told me that she was expecting, I was happy as hell...but I knew, in my heart, that I couldnt leave Elena because I had Lizzie at home...". "But...would you have left Elena if Lizzie had been grown and gone...?", Martin asked, quite interested in his friends reply. "We probably would have seperated, but I think I would have fought a divorce...", Quint answered quickly. "But...why?", Martin was curious. "Its like this, Brody", Quint explained, almost as if he were a father talking to his son, "We're in love with our wives. Thats why we married them. We only really have our 'other women' because we're missing something from our wives that the 'other women' can only provide and thats why we love them. But...our wives...they can only provide about seventy-five percent of our needs, whereas our 'other women' can only provide about twenty-five percent. But, together, they make a whole woman. Your Dawn, my Maria...theyre like accessories for a nice suit...our wives make up the shirt, jacket, slacks...even the socks and shoes. The basics. But Dawn, Maria...they are the tie, the belt, the kerchief and the fancy cufflinks. Without the accessories, you have a plain, boring suit...understand?", Quint glared at Martin seriously. "I think so", Martin nodded. "Well", Quint went on, a little less urgent than before, "my point is, we belong with the seventy-five percent, not the twenty-five percent. At least, with the seventy-five percent, we have most of our needs fulfilled. After all...what good is having the accessories if you dont have the suit to put them with?". The two sat silent awhile, Martin looked at Quint in amazement. "You know something, Quint?", Martin smiled, "...for being a hard-ass, you certainly are profound...!". "Thats why I'm a hard-ass, chief...I know too much and I dont like what I know", Quint grinned. The two cracked-up, laughing. "We've gotta get going, Brody...or our seventy-five percenters are gonna kick our hundred-percent asses!", Quint grinned, mischeviously. Martin giggled like a schoolkid...mostly out of relief, but also because Quint was such a smartass that it tickled his funnybone sometimes. It felt good to Quint to hear his friend laugh. He was worried about him for awhile there. They stopped by the first store they found. A mini-mart. They had no idea what they should get, so they just started grabbing things. Martin wound up with two fifths of bourbon, a six pack of Coors and three bags of potato chips. Quint grabbed up a half gallon of vanilla ice cream, some M&M's, a six pack of diet orange soda, tortilla chips and a jar of salsa. He looked for apricot brandy, but they didnt have it. They did, however, have sloe gin. "Yick!...A bad combination...", Quint thought to himself, about all the stuff he just bought. This stuff would really send him to pray to the porcelain god! When they got back to the house, however, it didnt really matter what they had because the women were out of thier minds with anger. Well, after all, they had been gone almost four-and-a-half hours... Ellen quietly demanded that Martin come upstairs to "talk" the minute he walked inside the door. Elena met her husband outside as he tried to unload his purchases from the back of the SUV. "You lied to me, Michael!", she hissed under her breath so that no one would hear. "What are you talking about?!", he demanded to know. "When you went to the Brodys house in New york?", she stood there, glaring at him, her arms crossed in front of her chest, tapping her foot nervously, "...And you came back from supposedly fighting that 'bear'?". "I did fight a bear...but, what about it?!", he leaned against the side of the SUV, preparing for the battle, his hand on his hip, tipping his cap back onto his head. "Before you left, you told me that Ellen was having an affair. That was your whole reason for going and it was a lie!...Ellen told me that she'd had an affair, but it was a long time ago, before we ever even met them, when they still lived in New York!...Why did you LIE to me?!". "Because I FELT like it!", he snorted, sarcastically. "You felt like it?!!", she shrieked, "Why?!!". "Because I'm damned sick and tired of your NAGGING me about everything I say and do!!", he yelled, "...I just wanted to go and visit a friend, do one thing important to me, but I knew that if I told you, you'd bitch at me till hell froze over about it if I didnt lie to you about it!...JesusHchrist, you've become a bloody crank since the kids got older!!...I swear, if I could put a meter on your mouth, I'd be a rich man!!". "DAMN you!!", she yelled, before running back inside the house. Quint gave up. He was determined not to fight with her all night tonight - and this was definately shaping up to be an all night fight. He unloaded the groceries, sat them on the porch (he kept back one of the fifths of bourbon that Martin had bought...he didnt think Martin would mind too much), then he got into his own truck and left Elena at the Brodys. "What the hell?", he thought, to himself, "She and Ellen can spend the night comparing notes and if that gets too boring, she can always have Martin bring her home. He would be happy to do it...it would give him a chance to get back to see Dawn". He went straight home, straight to bed - and not once did he feel the slightest bit of guilt about it, either. The next morning, he awoke to find that Elena had never made it home. Well...he wasnt going to stick around and wait for her. He showered and dressed (carrying around the remainder of the bourbon with him as he went), then went to the Bay Cafe for a light breakfast. Afterward, he walked over to the harbor to find Casey. He was going to find out, exactly what he could about this Sierra Deveroux that all the guys were talking about, once and for all. "Casey!", Quint called to him when he saw him, standing at the end of the pier, arguing with one of the fishermen for not properly anchoring his vessel to the dock. "Be right with you, Quint!", Casey waved as he called back. Quint went inside Caseys piershack to wait. Several minutes later, Casey returned. Quint was setting in his favorite rocking chair. "How can I help you and get out of my damned chair!", Casey grunted in his crusty old seamans way. Smiling knowingly, Quint relinquished the chair. "I'd like you to confirm or deny a rumor that concerns you", Quint said, finding himself another chair. Casey laughed, "...Okay, so, tell me...what have I done this time?", as he made himself comfortable in his rocker. "I heard tell you have a daughter who just came to town...", Quint got out of his mouth before Casey cut him off. "I do and you keep your damned hands off of her!", the old salt snapped. "Relax, Casey...", Quint waved him off, "I just heard a couple fishermen talking about some lovely young lass who was new in town and they said she was your daughter. Instead of listening to second-hand information, I thought I'd come directly to the source...thats all". "Who was talkin' about her?", Casey demanded to know. "Strickland and Abernathy...why?", Quint asked. "Rick Strickland!", Casey spat disgustedly, "...and here I am, worrying about what you got in mind!". He rocked a moment, a worried expression creasing lines into his face, "Listen, Quint...SiSi's my little girl...my baby. I dont want her hurt anymore, you understand?...Let me explain...you see, I've always felt a bit more protective of SiSi than my other two daughters because one, shes my baby and, two, my missus passed when SiSi was only about two years old. She didnt have the advantage of growing up with a mother. Oh, my two oldest girls, Martie and DeeDee, helped care for her, but it still wasnt the same. A sister cant give you the same kind of love and care a mother can. Anyway, my SiSi got herself engaged while she was away at college. She brought the boy home with her to meet us all that first christmas...Quint, I tell you...none of us could stand him. He was rude, ill-mannered and sass-mouthed! We couldnt, for the life of us, figure out what she saw in him. But...she loved him, for whatever reason, known only to her and our Lord. And he was her first, real love...the one love in your life thats the most almighty powerful. Quint nodded in agreement, remembering his first real love. Hell...remembering his last! "But he treated her bad, Quint...", Casey went on, "...he beat on her, yelled at her, always running her into the ground, killing her self esteem, telling her she was stupid and worthless and ugly...always trying to break her spirit down so he could control her better...she wasnt even allowed to finish school, go out without him or have any money of her own...". "Thats no way to treat a lady", Quint agreed. "Well", Casey nodded, "...Luckily, for SiSi, he found someone with less spirit than her and he dumped SiSi. But all the while, he'd keep coming back to Sierra, apologizing, telling her she was his only love and how he wanted to get her back, no matter what it took...all the while, filling out the divorce papers". "Sounds like a prize winning bastard", Quint grumbled. "Sure was", Casey chuckled, "...Well, anyway...she was just feeling very poorly about herself and about life, in general, so she come to stay with her daddy for awhile. Her sisters are all married with lives of thier own and SiSi feels like she'd be disruptin' them if she went there, so she came to where she knew she could feel needed and wanted". "Where is she now?", Quint asked. "Work, I s'pose", Casey sighed, "I got a spare room for her upstairs, but she wants to eventually get her own place. I guess after all that repression, she needs the freedom, so I let her be. Shes got her a job and she see's friends and goes to movies...I try not to be such a father and ask her all the time where she's going...I dont want her to think ALL men are like the little prick she married!" "Where does she work?", Quint asked. Casey eyed him suspiciously. "You just leave her be, Quint...! I've heard of your reputation with women around here and I also know you got a wife and kids!...Youre a big feller...take me too long to cut ya up into the chum bucket if'n ya hurt my little girl!". Quint chuckled...but he knew Casey was serious. He knew he would be serious, too, if some sailor went after his Lizzie! "Listen, Casey", Quint assured him, "...my 'so-called' reputation just isnt what its been reported to be...I dont know how it got so pumped up, but I promise you, it isnt anywhere near what everyone says it is". Casey looked at him again with that same, suspicious expression, "...Besides your wife, didnt you have a woman in Monte Rio, another in Santa Rosa, one in Dillon Beach and another - with your illegitimate child - up in Stewarts Point?". Quint threw his head back, laughing hysterically. "No!", he laughed, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes, "Casey, I'll be honest with you. I did have a woman that I was very much in love with come to Santa Rosa to be near me...I met her when I had hit my head falling out my boat on a fishing trip back in Amity...I washed up on her beach on Sable Island and she saved my life. I had amnesia from the bump on my head, didnt know who or where I was, so I didnt know that falling in love with her was wrong. By the time I figured it all out, it was too late. I was too deep in love with the girl by the time I remembered I had a wife and kids back in Amity. I never took too much time away from family, never humiliated my family, never hurt anyone...I kept everything very low key, respecting all of the women in my life. But she was...killed (Quint choked on that word. He still wasnt over it) in a car wreck about a year ago...but, other than my missus, she was the only woman I ever touched, so help me!". "Still", casey argued, "...I hear tell you flirt alot!", rocking back and forth in his rocker, lighting up his corncob pipe. "Well", Quint leaned in, flashing his most charming smile, a mischevious twinkle in his eyes, "...I do try not to! But, when I do, I assure you, its completely harmless". Just then, a girl came down the stairs. Quint recognised her right off. "Morning, dad", she said, leaning over to kiss her father on his forehead, "...I'm on my way to work...you want me to bring you anything when I come home?". She paused and smiled when she recognised Quint. "Oh, hello!", She smiled, "...I told Mr. Bradshaw about your apricot brandy...he put in the order yesterday afternoon...should be delivered sometime today". "Thank you very much", he returned her smile, "I'll be in to get a bottle this evening...". "I take it you two know each other already...", Casey looked nervous. "Not by name, dad", she gently placed her hand on his shoulder, "I just saw him in the store yesterday, is all". "Well, this here is Mr. Quint", Casey reluctantly introduced him. He still felt quite uneasy about Quint even being in the same house with his baby girl! Quint stood up to take her hand, "Michael Quint, at your service", he smiled, removing his cap. "Hi", she smiled back, sweetly. "...And this is my daughter, Sierra", Casey finished the introduction. "Its a pleasure", Sierra stated. Quints first reaction was to offer to walk her to work, but he was still trying to convince her father that he wasn't the womanizer he thinks he is, so he sat back down and just kept quiet. He had to. Those 'tingling feelings' were coming upon him again and, this time, he was having to fight them hard. Damn! What a time to be fighting with Elena! He was in a tough spot. He broke out in a cold sweat as his mind chanted over and over, 'hurry!' 'hurry!' 'hurry!', wanting her to leave quickly, to hurry from his sight. "She's quite pretty", Quint choked nervously, trying to appear as calm and as collected as he possibly could under the circumstances. But Casey noticed, anyway. He smiled as proudly as any father would when his daughters beauty is profound enough to make the men perspire, but she had already attracted one 'wrong number' already and Quint was no prize if he could have such little respect for his wife that he'd cheat on her. No matter how he tried to justify it. Therefore, Quints reaction to his little girl made him nervous. "Quint...", Casey started, "I'm asking you as one old seaman to the other, leave my girl be...?". He knew threats of physical violence wouldnt work. He was just too old anymore to carry them out! So he tried relying on the honor system. That usually worked better, anyhow. And Quint responded to it well. He thought of his own little girl and how he will be dealing with the boys coming around after her. And, the way she was growing and turning out as beautiful as her mother, that time was approaching quickly! So he sympathized with Caseys position. "You have my word", Quint assured him. "Thank you", Casey shook his hand - then offered him a drink to celebrate. (Well, celebrating in Caseys mind, anyway!). They sat there for hours, drinking and telling stories of the sea. After all, there wasnt anyone at home waiting for either of them. Quint decided against going by the store on his way home. It took him getting laid to get rid of those enormous feelings of desire the first time...and he wasnt going to have Elena at home to take care of them if they started up again after seeing Sierra, so it was a good idea to avoid it, altogether. He was going to try very hard to keep his word to Casey, even if he wasnt sure if he could keep it up for long. But, when he got home, Elena was there. He walked into the kitchen, where she was making a pitcher of iced tea. She turned to look at him...her icey cold stare caused the temperature in the room to drop twenty degrees. "I'm sorry for leavin' ya last night", he apologized, trying to make up. Oh, but she was far too angry for that, this time. It wasnt the lie he told her that she couldnt forgive. It wasnt the 'meter-on-the-mouth' insult, either. And it wasnt even him leaving her at the Brodys the night before that was causing her anger. It was the fact that he never came back for her that hurt. Martin and Ellen sat up with her long after everyone had left because she had insisted Michael would come back for her, that he would never abandon her. She insisted that at all it would take was to give him time to cool off and he would return. But they waited and waited, until about 4am, until they just couldnt stay awake any longer and Ellen made up the guest room for Elena. The humiliation Elena felt far surpassed any anger she could feel. And it hurt alot more... She didnt know of she could ever forgive that. Humiliation was even worse than betrayal. "Go to hell!", she hissed back at him, storming out of the kitchen, past him. She stormed up the stairs, to thier room. She pulled everything of his out of the closet, the drawers and even his bedside table. Everything she could see that belonged to him, she'd pick up and throw out of the bedroom window, into the front yard, below. "What the hell are you DOING?!!", Quint yelled up at her from the bottom of the stairs, when he noticed his belongings flying passed the livingroom window. He ran outside and began picking up his things. "Alright, woman!!", he yelled up toward the open bedroom window from the yard, "I tried to apologize!!...if you dont want to accept it, the YOU can go to hell!!". She threw his water glass down at him with deadly aim. It smashed down right on the back of his head. "You BITCH!!", he yelped. "You prick!!", she yelled back, throwing his wooden fishing clogs down at him, the first one bouncing off of his back, the second hitting his leg. They hurt, too! He picked and gathered until he got everything into the bed of his truck, then he got in and started the engine. Just as he was pulling out of the driveway, the Brennans pulled up, bringing Lizzie home. God, he was thankful that she missed this fight. He pulled the truck up alongside the drivers window of Mrs. Brennans stationwagon. "Lizzie", he called, his booming voice causing everyone in the wagon to freeze and stare wide-eyed, as if Lizzie were in trouble for something. Lizzie noticed thier reaction to her fathers voice and let out a little laugh, "Dont be scared", she grinned, "...he's always that loud". They took a collective sigh of relief. "What, daddy?", she answered, leaning in front of Mrs. Brennan to look up at her father. "Your moms not in too good a mood today...", he answered her, a painful expression on his face, "...wanna go have lunch with me, then go out on the boat for some fishin'?". "What did he do this time?", Lizzie sighed, under her breath. "What?", Joan Brennan asked. "Oh", Lizzie sighed, "...Moms usually a pretty calm person...dads the only one who can really get her into a 'bad mood'. He really knows how to push her buttons!..The only thing is, I dont think he means to, most of the time...". Joan Brennan laughed, "Yes, Lizzie...husbands can do that sometimes....you just remember that if you ever decide to get married!". Lizzie gathered her overnight bag and said goodbye to Tessie and thier two friends, Heather and Kayla, then remembering to apply the proper manners that her mother had taught her, she thanked Mrs. Brennan for a nice evening and for driving her home. She waved back to everyone as she walked around the front of the stationwagon, to her dads truck...the big old bomb that silently embarrassed her. It was big and old and noisy. It rattled and banged...but the worst part was the drawing of the shark on the side. It caused Lizzie great humiliation, but she never mentioned it to her dad. She didnt want him to feel as bad as she did about it. She loved her father and, if it didnt bother him, then it shouldnt bother her. So why embarrass him about it? When she threw her bag over into the bed of the truck, she saw all of his things in there. "Looks like a big one, this time", she sighed, as she got into the truck beside him. She settled in and looked over at her dad to say something else, but she noticed blood trickling down his sun-withered neck. "Daddy!!", she squealed, "...Youre bleeding!!". "I guess I must have bumped my head gettin' into the truck", he lied. He decided it was better than telling her the truth. He didnt want her to know that this fight had came to physical violence. It might scare her too bad. It was enough that her mom and dad were fighting. She reached down and began rummaging under the seat. "What're you doing?", he asked, watching her. "I'm getting the first aid kit and dont you argue with me!", she told him, authoritively, knowing he had a tendancy to hate being fussed over. "Youre gettin' more like yer mother ev'ry day!", he mumbled. But he sat there patiently, anyway, while his daughter doctored his painfully throbbing head. When she was finally through, they drove off. "Shouldnt I have told mom that I was going with you?", Lizzie asked, "You know shes going to freak out when she cant find me". "You can call her from the cafe", he told her, "...If she says you cant go, I'll just take you back home...so...did you have fun?", trying to change the subject. "Yeah", she sighed, "...We had a great time...". She went into every detail about how they'd spent the day at Berryessa, swimming and barbequeing and playing games, what all Tessie had gotten for her birthday (it had been Tessies 14th birthday party), the hiking trip, the slumber party with all the ghost stories that were told and roasting marshmallows. She even told her father a couple of them. Quint smiled as he listened, enjoying the fact that his little girl had enjoyed herself so much. By the time she was through talking, they were already seated in a booth inside the cafe and Quint had already ordered for them - two giant cheeseburgers, two baskets of fries, two pieces of coconut creme pie and two large cokes. "I guess I should go call mom, now...", she sounded hesitant, afraid her mom would make her come home. Lizzie really didnt get to spend all that much father-daughter time with her dad, so she was looking forward to today, "...I hope she's still not so mad that she yells at me!". Quint brought two dimes out of his pocket and handed them to her, "...Naw...she wont yell at you, berries...shes mad at me, not you...". "But she might yell at me for being with you", Lizzie said, standing, "You know how she is...she might think I'm taking your side in this argument, or something...she's so insecure...", she sighed, rolling her eyes as she walked off toward the payphone over in the corner. Quint let out a hearty giggle. Oh, she might be getting more like her mother as she grows older, but she's got plenty of her father in her, too! Kate had brought over thier order while Lizzie was on the phone. "Youre little girl is sure growing up, Quint", Kate smiled, nodding her head in Lizzies direction. "Yeah...too fast!", he grinned cautiously, looking back at Lizzie. "How old is she now?". "Goin' on fourteen...". "Well, you better save your strength, then", Kate said, matter-of-factly, carefully removing the large cokes from her tray to the table, "...Cuz youre gonna have to be beating those boys off with a stick, pretty soon!". "Dont remind me", he sighed, starting to feel worried at the prospect. Kate giggled as she walked away. Quint took another look back at his Lizzie, his baby girl, his sweet little daughter. He had always seen her through a fathers eyes...that cute little girl with the pink, chubby cheeks, who run to him on short, chubby little legs whenever he called for his 'berries', her little chubby hands out, a huge smile on her face...the sun reflecting off of her golden-red curls making it appear that she was wearing a halo... Now, she was tall enough for his chin to rest on her head when he hugged her. Her body had thinned down and there were places on her that were filling out that made him nervous as hell when he took her out in public...especially around his fishing buddies! Her lovely golden-red curls were now a long, thick, wavy mane that she puffed up in front and pulled back with glittery ties. And she was wearing makeup now, too...something Quint fought, hard. She wasnt wearing alot of it, but even a little was too much for Quints little girl! He fought her and her mother tooth and nail about her wearing it, but gave in when he saw how badly she felt one night when she had some friends over for a slumber party. All of her friends were putting on makeup and nail polish, but she was the only one who couldnt. He didnt want his little girl to feel like an outcast simply because her father was an out-of-date old fart! But when she learned how she got to wear makeup and nail polish, she pushed for too-tight, skimpy clothing...and no matter how bad she tried to make her daddy feel about not letting her, he never give in on that one! It was bad enough that she's inherited her moms great shape...he wasnt about to let her show it off! Yet, he did come to a compromise when Elena made him take her to buy her school clothes the summer before she went into junior high and Lizzie took him over to the ladies wear department to purchase a training bra! Oh, he puffed out his chest and swallowed hard, telling himself he could handle it...but when she held up two bra's and asked him which one was she was 'allowed' to have, he choked up and lost his nerve and made a hasty exit! Today, she was wearing tight, black jeans, a red 'belly-top' and platform sneakers. Dear Lord. Give me strength, Quint thought. He just couldnt bear to think about what they boys when they looked at his 'berries'...the same things that he was thinking when he was thier age! Hell! The same things he was STILL thinking about! He made up his mind not to let her out of his sight till she was 40 - or he was dead! "Well", Lizzie sighed as she slipped back into the booth across for her dad, "...You were right...shes pretty mad at you, but, at least, she didnt yell at me!", she reached for her cheeseburger and took a bite. "What did she say?", Quint asked, trying not to seem as curious as he actually was. "she just said that she wanted you to have me home for dinner by six o'clock...". Lizzie ate a few fries and sipped her coke slowly as she contemplated on wether or not she had the right to ask about her parents personal life. Curiosty eventually got the best of her. "Daddy...whats going on between you and mom?", she tried to act nonchalant, "I mean, you've got all of your stuff out in the truck...are you and mom splitting up or something?". Quint and Elena had made a pact when the kids were little, around the time she had found out about Maria and he had found out about Rob Damon, that they would keep thier personal situations away from the kids. They wanted to present a normal, loving home to thier beloved children, no matter what was going on. But he never liked lying to them, either. He had found that he was pretty good at bouncing around the truth without actually letting on that there might be any trouble, so, now, he decided to tell her as much of the truth as he felt she could handle without going into too much detail...to give her just enough information to satisfy her. "No, berries...we're not splitting up...". he grinned nervously. "Lizzie, dad!", she corrected, "Lizzie!!". "Okay! Okay!", he said, defensively, "Look...your mom and me went to Uncle Martins last night for a barbeque. Your uncle Martin and me took off to go get some things at the store and we were gone too long and your mom was mad about that and we had an argument. I didnt want to argue with her, so I went home and left her there with uncle Martin and aunt Ellen. She couldve got a ride home, but she expected me to come back for her but I fell asleep". "But, is she mad cuz you left her or because you didnt go back for her?", Lizzie asked, confused. "I dont know, berr- Lizzie...take your pick", he was starting to feel irritated. "And you two call me a child!", she popped off. "Hey!...Watch your tone, missy!", he growled quietly. "But you two act so immature sometimes!...I swear!", she moaned, "...How do you guys expect me to grow up and be able to handle relationships rationally with this example to go by?!". He sat there and glared at her. He didnt like her lipping off, but she was sounding awful grown up for her age and, to Quint, it was astounding. "What do you want me to do, little girl?", he asked her, "I tried apologizing to her, but she threw all of my things out in the bloody yard, fer christs sakes!! I cant fix this thing by myself, you know!...But you seem to know so bloody much, so you tell me how to handle it!", he sat back, crossing his arms over his chest. She'd gotten him irritated. "How am I supposed to know?!...I'm just a kid!!", she whined. That remark made him smile. There was his little girl, trying to be all grown up, then admitting that she want as grown as she was trying to be. "I'll just do what I always do", he said, a mouthful of fries, "I'll stay out on the boat a couple of days, she'll start missing me, then I'll go back home to her. She'll be so glad to see me that we'll make up and everything will be okay, again". Lizzie sighed and rolled her eyes dramatically. Quint leaned over the table and pointed his finger at her, his voice low and intimidating, "...This might come a sa suprise to you, little girl, but your parents are just two normal, imperfect people with problems just like everyone else. We're only human!...So take us or leave us!". "I love you both, daddy", she pouted, "I just wished you wouldnt fight so much". "Me, too, Lizzie", he sighed, "But your mother and I happen to have both been cursed with high spirits and short fuses. Two things we have in common that causes problems every now and then. Its a fact of life, Liz...something that cant be changed. Now...you through eating?". "Yeah...I'm full". "Okay", he grinned, happy that this intense discussion was over, "Then lets go get some fishing done before I gotta get you home". All the time he and Lizzie were out on the boat, fishing, he thought about what he and Elenas volatile tempers were doing to thier daughter. He never heard any complaints from his son before he went off to college, so he figured it didnt bother him much. He also thought about what it was doing to himself. He knew he started most of the fights and was thinking how great Elena was to have put up with him all those years. It tok three wives to get it right. But he just couldnt help how he felt. He had a bad temper and a womanizing heart. He knew it. He just couldnt help it. He honestly tried to change, but it was just too difficult and he felt life was just too short. He thought about Sierra. He didnt want to get her all tangled up in his complex life, but...the way he felt about her...it was reminiscent of the way he felt for Maria...he thought about what he had told Martin about needing that "twenty-five-percent-woman" to fill in the gaps that a wife just couldnt fill. He also thought of his promise to casey...and wondered if he could keep it. And, as he watched Lizzie, staring down at her line in the water, waiting for a bite, he wondered how he would ever managed to hide another affair from his quickly maturing daughter. After all, they were in a small town, now. Smaller than Amity and Sierra is the daughter of a man that everyone knows, not to mention a wife who is already suspicious after one affair. And how would he explain an affair to his daughter if she found out about it? She'd already let him know that she thought they were'nt being good enough role models as it was...and he was sure that the same advice he'd given Martin just wouldnt work for his daughter! Well, he knew one thing for sure...that he had to make up with Elena, quickly, if he was to avoid an affair. Every time he got a glimpse of Sierra, he would become extremely aroused and he need Elena to work it off! That sounded selfish, but, to him, it was a rationalization...he figured he and Elena being back together would be best for everyone concerned, even including his reputation! He also thought of talking to Elena about those times when he felt restless and see if she would be willing to work with him on satisfying them. He wondered of she would be receptive to his suggestions or just think he was a dirty old pervert? Would she try to be spontaneous and, sometimes, a little outrageous to keep him from getting bored and restless? He sure hoped she would, but, at this point, he didnt think she would. She was starting to get fed up with him and he knew it. He didnt blame her, either. Though she was no perfect princess, he had her beat by a mile at causing trouble. Lizzie broke his chain of thought. "Dad!...Dad!!...", she whispered excitedly, "I think I've got something really big!!" Quint jumped out of his captains chair and ran over to her. She only had a 25-pound line and it looked like she had something that weighed more than 30 pounds on it. The line was taut and stretching. "Pull back slow and careful", he whispered near her ear as he leaned over her shoulder, "...dont yank on it, dont reel in just yet...let it fight till its tired!". Lizzie hung on as whatever was at the end of her line tugged and yanked and fought for its life. "Okay", Quint said, finaly, "...try reeling her in slowly, now". Lizzie reeled in slowly, waited, pulled, then reeled in slowly a little more. "Ya want some help, girl?", Quint asked her. "I..think I can...get it to the...surface, dad..", she was straining with all her might, "...but get the hook just incase I cant get it on board, okay?". "You got it", Quint smiled, turning toward the cabin. He came back holding the hook, standing behind her, watching proudly, grinning from ear to ear. "I got it!!", she squealed, pulling the pole back further and further, straining under the weight of her catch, "I...got...it!!". Quint reached under into the storage cabinet for his leather gloves. "I'll take the pole, now", he said, stepping it in to take it from her before whatever it was that she had pulled her into the water with it, "You put these gloves on and pull your catch up by the line...mind that you dont break it, ok?". She hurriedly put on the gloves so that the line wouldnt cut through her hands as she pulled her heavy catch up close enough up to the edge of the boat so that her dad could get that hook into it and bring it aboard. She pulled slowly and very carefully, praying that the line wouldnt snap. She finally got it up close enough to see what it was, but before she could make out what it was, her father brought his arm down swiftly and forcefully in front of her and buried that steel hook deeply into it. As he drug it aboard, he chuckled gleefully. "Looks like you got yerself a four-and-a-half-foot bull shark, little lady!", his heart swelling with pride. His baby girl had just caught her first shark! This was a milestone in his parental book! A very profound, proud moment for Michael Quint. If only her grandmother could see this... Lizzie was overjoyed, jumping around, yelling, laughing. Whatever Quint thought about women not being able to hold thier own out on the sea was just shot down...and he was loving it. "Youre certainly a Quint!", he laughed, hugging her, "...no doubt about it". "But...", she suddenly looked bewildered, "what am I gonna do with it now?". "What do you want to do with it...?", he asked, stepping back as not to get hit by the big, flopping tailfins, pulling Lizzie back with him. "I dont know", she contemplated, looking up at him, "What do you usually do with them?". He thought about that. Usually, he'd immediately start clubbing the bloody thing to death the minute he got it aboard, but he didnt want to do that, this time...not in front of his little girl! "It depends..", he said, thinking about how he should handle this. But there was no way to handle this situation delicately, "...See, I usually go for the really big sharks, so if I caught one under ten feet long, I'd usually just cut its head off..for the jaws, you know...then throw the bleeding carcass back into the water to attract the bigger sharks...". He looked over at her to see if he wasnt saying so much that it was going to make her sick. "Well", she said, matter-of-factly...apparently not bothered with the greusome descriptions at all, looking at her watch, "I dont have enough time to catch another one...its five-twenty-five, now...so, I guess we keep the jaws, throw the rest back - unless you want to save it - then go home...". He looked at her in amazement, grinning, "..You like this feeling of catching big sharks, dont ya?". "Its a rush, dad!", she grinned back up at him. Quint laughed heartily, "Thats my girl!!...Well?...Lets get to cutting up yer catch!...Youre a bonafide sharker, now and that includes more than just catchin' 'em!...Lets get to work!". But Liz didnt exactly have the stomach for cutting into the big fish. Quint understood. After all, this was her first time so he didnt make a big deal out of doing it for her. But he did ask her to watch him do it, so that she could learn how, at least. Only the sight of all that blood and fluid, the sound of tearing skin and the smell, caused her to dash over to portside and deposit her lunch overboard. Quint watched her, stifling a chuckle. He remembered his first time, too. "Daddy", she said, stumbling over, clutching her stomach, "...you keep the jaws, okay...?". "But dont you, at least, want to watch me remove them and boil them dry...?", he asked, a devilish grin spreading across his face. He couldnt resist teasing. She looked as if she's passout. He couldve sworn she was turning green! "Er...thats ok, dad", she stifled a gag, "...you take them home and do it...its getting late and I dont want mom any more mad at you than she is now", trying to get out of it diplomatically. "My little girls first catch!", he bellowed gleefully, "...Theyre going right up on the bridge of the Orca two for all to see!". He looked over at her. She was grinning madly. He got the carcass over the edge and the scraps into the chum bucket to 'ripen' properly for his next trip, then he washed his tools in the water, then mopped the deck while Lizzie sat cautiously close to the edge...just incase... "Okay", he sighed, tired but happy, "Time to get goin'...wanna set up on the bridge with me on the way back?". "Okay". Halfway home, a thought came to her. "Daddy", she had to yell into the wind and also try to be heard over the marine engine, "...are you going to talk to mom when we get home...?". "If she wants to talk to me, Lizzie...", he yelled back, "You know her as well as I do...if she doesnt want to talk to me, then theres nothing I can say or do is going to do any good...you know that...". She nodded in silent agreement. She knew that if her mother was angry enough to have thrown all of his things out into the yard, then it was way too soon to try talking to her! Her mom could hold a grudge forever, it seemed. But, in the truck, Quint noticed Lizzies sad expression, She had been silent ever since they got off of the boat. He assumed he expression was because of he and Elenas fighting, so he made a conscious decision to make a much determined attempt to try apologizing once more to Elena. He wanted this over with and he didnt want his little girl feeling badly. "You know, Lizzie...", he smiled, not taking his eyes from the road, "Your old dad used to be able to make the girls swoon...". "Swoon?!", she wrinkled her nose, "Whats that mean...?". He chuckled, "...Lets see...how do I explain this...Oh!...I know...its what we used to call what you and your girlfriends do when you see those singing boys on TV...the ones who's CD's youre buying all the time...". "Thats swooning...?!", she asked, suprised that her father would even know about such things. "Well..thats what we used to call it, anyway", he grinned. "Well I call it going crazy over!", she rolled her eyes, grinning. At least, it looked to him, that he'd made her feel better. "Anyway", he went on, the mood lightened, "I used to be able to just smile at a girl a certain way and maybe pay her a nice little compliment and the girls would 'go crazy over' me...its how I got your mom in the first place. My point is, maybe I can try working that old smile on your mom tonight, when I get you home and see if it still works for me...what'd'ya think?". "But, if she's used to it, will it still work...?". "It worked yesterday!", he snorted, mostly to himself, remembering that little 'session' on the hallway floor. Of course, Lizzie had no idea what he was referring to. She simply assumed he was talking about 'love stuff'. "Dad!...I really dont want to hear about such things about you and mom...!". "And what do YOU know about 'such things', young lady?!". "Oh", she started, quite nonchalantly, "Mom gave me a very long talk about it all way back when I got my first period...". "Ah!!", he made a disgusted sound, "I dont wanna hear about that!!". She laughed. "Anyway", he began, feeling a little creeped out over his daughters menstrual cycle and facts-of-life discussion, "...I just want you to know that I'm going to make every effort tonight to make up with your mom, okay?...I miss her just as much as you miss having us together, you know...". Well, ok. So he wasnt exactly telling the whole truth. But his daughter didnt know that...and he didnt want her to know that, either. "Okay, dad", she smiled, "Thanks...", she leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "No problem, berr- I mean, Lizzie". She smiled. Well, she thought to herself, at least he's trying. She was proud of him. So, as Quint and Lizzie pulled up in front of the house, he mentally prepared himself for this encounter with his angry wife. He knew, down deep, that it was way too soon, but he was grasping at straws hoping she wouldnt pull anything in front of thier daughter. At least, while Lizzie was standing between them, he had a fair shot. Wrong. Elena met them at the front door, "Did you have a good time, sweetie?", she asked Lizzie. Quint was standing behind his daughter, holding her overnight bag. Only Lizzie didnt stand between them like he had hoped she would...she walked inside, past her mother, to watch her dad. She wanted to see what he was talking about, ealrier, about that special smile he had. She wanted to see what it looked like, if it was any different and how. She watched her parents interactions intently. "Good evening, missus", he said, tipping his cap, giving her his best 'knee-weakening' smile, a sparkle in his eyes, sex dripping from his voice, "May I come inside and set with you and your charming daughter and bask in your enchanting beauty?", he bowed slightly at the waist. Lizzie rolled her eyes at her fathers corn-ball act, but she was smiling...enjoying it. In fact, she thought it was kinda romantic. She hoped it would work. After all, why shouldnt it? All 'old' people got a kick out of that corny stuff! "NO!!", Elena snapped, slamming the door in Quints face. Looks like he's lost his touch, he thought. "MO-THER!!?", Lizzie yelped loudly, running back to the door, taking hold of the doorknob, but turning back to look at her mother before opening it, "How can you act so mean?!". She opened the door and ran out to her dad, who was now walking down the steps. "I'm so sorry, daddy!", Lizzie was on the verge of tears. "Dont fret about it, Lizzie", Quint stroked her hair, "I told you not to expect much, didnt I?". Lizzie hugged her dad and nodded her head. "Moms just still angry", he said, quietly, "But she'll get over it, soon enough". "So?", Elena snorted, standing there, watching Quint and Lizzies exchange of affection, "Youre turning my daughter against me now?!". "Back off, 'Lena", Quint shot her a mean look, "Lizzies upset...dont make it worse!...but dont worry, I'm leavin'!". "I wont worry!", she snapped back. "Bye, daddy", Lizzie sniffed, fighting her tears of disappointment, "Thanks for today". He whispered into her ear as he hugged her back, "Youre welcome, kiddo...we'll do this again soon..I promise. And donr worry about your mother and me. It only looks bad now...we'll work it out. We've been doin' it for years...". "I sure hope so", she sniffed, putting a break in Quints heart. "Elizabeth...?", Elena called to her daughter. Liz knew when her mother called her by her full name, that she was getting serious. "O-kay!", Lizzie answered her, going inside, pausing to take one last, forlorn look at her father before Elena slammed the door shut behind them. Quint headed back to the docks. He figured he'd take up residence on the Orca II until such time as when he could figure out where he was going to stay on a more permanent basis. Elena was in this one for the long haul. At this rate, he figured he'd be lucky if she would let him visit christmas day! He wished he still had his piershack on Amity. At least he'd have a warm place to sleep tonight. He briefly thought of going back...until he remembered that bastard Vaughn had it torn down a few years back to make the cove look "more presentable" for the islands rich who were docking thier yachts there. Besides. He couldnt leave his 'berries'. (Even is she didnt like being called that!). But he really had some great times on Amity. He really missed it. He suddenly found himself heading out of town instead of to the docks, where he originally intended to go. He was going to go see Martin. But, wait...would he be at home or at Dawns? He figured he'd better call and find out, first. He doubled back toward town. He pulled into the parking lot of the gas station, up next to the phone booth. He called Martins house. Ellen answered. That really wasnt a good sign. He knew Martins habits well enough to know that he was always answered the phone...when he was there to answer it. "He's not here, Quint", Ellen told him, "He supposed ly went bowling in Healdsburg...". So thats what he's been telling her that he's been doing. "You dont happen to have the phone number to the alleys handy, do you...?", he asked, more to find out of he was really at a bowling alley or not. Chances were that, if he gave her a number to call, then he was most likely there. "Not off-hand", she said, "Buts its probably in the book...the name is something like 'Lucky Lanes' or 'Lucky Alley' or something like that...", she said. Nope. He wasnt bowling. "Anything I can do?", she asked. "No, thanks", Quint said, "I was just missing Amity and looking for someone to get drunk and reminisce with", he chuckled, trying to sound light-hearted. "I know how you feel", she sounded tired, "Well, if you do happen to run across my absent husband, will you please remind him that he's still got a wife at home who's almost forgotten what he looks like?". "Will do", Quint tried sounding sympathetic. Only he didnt have any sympathy for Ellen Brody. She was a bigger slut than he was! In fact, Quint mused, it would probably take three lengths of two ton chain to keep that womans legs closed! He never would understand how Martin could forgive her for boffing Matt Hooper. But Martin forgave them both. He was a much bigger man than Quint could ever be, because both of them wouldve ended up in his chum bucket if they'd have done that to him! Quint chuckled. He bet Ellen never told that little secret to Elena!! As he hung up the phone, something across the street caught his eye. Sierra Deveroux. The store was directly across the street from the gas station. He could see right through the window next to the cash register, where she was standing. He could see her clearly. But she didnt see him. He watched her. She was sexy enough to watch all night. But...he promised Casey he wouldnt go near her... Oh, he had to do something to get his mind off of her. Should he call Dawns for a 'non-emergency' reason? Martin had given him her number so that he could call and warn him if Ellen went on the prowl after him or if there was some other emergency and Martin needed to know about it. Suddenly, Quint was hit with an inspiration. "Hello?", Dawns sultry voice came through the line. "Good evening, miss...", Quint couldnt recall her last name so he passed over it, "This is Michael Quint...". "Oh, hello, Mr. Quint...I remember you...", she bubbled. "Is the chief there, by any chance?...I'd like to speak with him, if I may...", he asked politely. "Sure...here ya go", she said. Quint heard her tell Martin that he had a call. He asked who it was, sounding worried. Quint hadnt even thought that Martin would think it was an emergency. Jeez. Where was his head at? Oh. On Sierra. He smiled. "Whats up, Quint?", Martin asked nervously. "I just had a brilliant idea that I think you might like to share with me!...", Quint grinned, "...That is, if we can work out the details...". He heard Martin let out a huge sigh, "Quint...are you drunk?!", he asked dryly. "Drunk on passion, Brody!", Quint was staring at Sierra from inside the phonebooth, those tingling feelings of arousal burning in his loins. "Not for me, I hope!", Martin said, smartassed. Quint laughed. "No way, Brody...", Quint chuckled, "Your chest aint big enough for my liking!". Martin laughed. "Ahhh...I think I got it", Martin said, grinning, "...You've found another twenty-five percenter, havent you?". "Thats riighhtttttt", Quint said melodically, as he watched Sierra's every move, every facial expression. "What about your seventy-five-percenter?", Martin asked. "She threw me out on my head!", Quint told him, rubbing the aching lump on the back of his head. He wanted to change the subject...he didnt feel like going into details. "So?...You interested in my idea or not?". "Sure...what about it?". "Wanna take a run back to Amity with me?", Quint asked, waiting curiously for his answer. "What?!", Martin exclaimed, "Amity island?!...What the hell for?!". "I guess I'm getting nostalgic in my old age!", Quint sighed, "So?...What about it? You wanna go? Be the perfect excuse for you and Dawn to be alone together...". "If she and I spent all our time together, then whats the purpose of us going at all?", Martin asked, "I thought you wanted someone to go with you to reminisce?". "I want to reminisce", Quint grinned as he watched Sierra smile at a woman at her counter who looked like she was saying something exceptionally funny to Sierra. Sierra was smiling and looking lovely, youthful, healthy, vital...desireable. "But", Quint continued, "...I need to rescue a damsel in distress, as well...", referring to Sierra's hard times and sadness - her distress - over her divorce. "You think you could work it out with your missus, chief...?". "Its a possibility...", Martin told him, "...Let me get back to you on that". "Can you do it tonight, Brody?", Quint asked, sounding urgent, "I already called her looking for you, so the idea's fresh in her head...you can tell her youre going with me to keep me out of trouble...tell her I'm despondant because Elena threw me out...I dont care...anything that you think will work...". "You've got a good argument, there", Martin told him. After a long pause, Martin told him, "Well...alright...I'll call Ellen and see how I can work this out. If youre not home, then where do I call you...?". Quint gave Martin the number of the phone in the booth. "Okay", Martin sighed, "Give me an hour or two". "Why so long, Brody?!", Quint asked impatiently. "Because you interrupted something I want to finish!", Martin finally told him. "Sorry 'bout that, chief!", Quint chuckled nervously, trying to hide his embarrassment, "I'll just go back to my truck and wait for your call...". The minute they hung up, Quint left the phonebooth and headed directly across the street. "Hi, Mr. Quint!", Sierra greeted him, "You come after your apricot brandy?". "That...and something else...", he smiled such a wicked smile at her, that it made her uneasy. Like the Cheshire Cat - in heat! "...First off", he instructed her, "Please...either call me 'Michael', or, just plain 'Quint'...just drop the 'mister' part, okay?...I like things informal with pretty young girls...". He was turning his charm meter on full blast. He thought he'd try his best 'knee-weakening smile' once more tonight. After all, what did he have to lose, now? But, judging by the flash of reddish-pink in Sierra's cheeks, it looked like it was working...which gave his sagging ego a much needed boost. "Okay...umm", she hesitated, flustered, "...which name do you prefer...?". "How 'bout just plain old 'Quint'?...Its what your father calls me...", his blue eyes flashing fire. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the counter and spoke in a low voice, "Liten...I promised your father that I would stay away from you because he doesnt think I would be a good influence on you, but...how would you like to run away with me for a few days?...Have a little fun?". "I - I dont think I can...", she said, quite flustered, by now, trying to fight her shyness, trying to hide her bushing. Quint was going in for the kill and it wasnt fair to this innocent girl...she hadnt been prepared for anything like this. He was relentless when it came to something he wanted. And he wanted her."Why not?", he asked, sweetly...enjoying watching her go down for the count. "Well, I...well...I just started working here and all...", she stammered nervously, "I...dont think...Mr. Bradshaw would, you know...let me have a few days off...". She swallowed hard. What was he doing to have this effect on her?! "Well", he stood erect, pushing his cap back on his head, showing some curls as he grinned, the corner of his mouth curling up devilishly, "What if I could fix it with Bradshaw, or, better yet...get you an even better job?". "I dont know....", she hesitated. She didnt want to make any rash decisions right now...not when she was feeling so funny...so confused. One look at her and he knew he had laid on the charm just a bit too thick, this time. After all, he had forgotten what it was like with 'fresh meat'. He had been having to turn the old 'charm meter' up a notch higher every few years, trying harder and harder to impress a woman who was becoming immune to his attractiveness. Even Maria had been getting tougher to charm those last few years because she had come to know him and the way he did things...what he meant and didnt mean, the way he did things. So the 'untested' woman really didnt require much by way of his already strong, magic charm...now, he was afraid he might have over done it with Sierra. He didnt stop - or even slow down - to remember that she had been an abused woman who had been emotionally battered, her self esteem almost murdered. He almost felt guilty for laying it on too thick. He realized he shouldve taken it more easy with her. Well, too late now. What could he do but back off and give her a chance to breathe and get her senses back? "I tell you what...", he smiled, taking her hand into his to hold, a dramatic gesture, "You think about it and I'll be back here around nine to pick you up...in the meantime, you hand me that apricot brandy...". "How do you know what time I get off of work?" she asked, trying to sound put off by his knowing her personal business, but secretly enjoying the fact that this handsome man took enough interest in her to find these things out. She hid her bashful grin as she turned her back to him to retrieve his apricot brandy. "This is a small town", he grinned, "everyone knows everything about everyone else". "Might I ask the details of your trip?", she asked as she sat the bottle on the counter. "Such as...?", he smiled, pulling his billfold from his back pocket. "Such as, when are you going, where and when will you be returning...?", she avoided eye contact, still trying to hide a smile as she took the ten dollar bill from his hand...shivers shooting up her spine as the backs of her fingers brushed against his rough palm. "I'm ging back to my hometown", he smiled, watching her make change and trying to hide the smile that she didnt think he could see, "...a little island off of the Massachussettes coast called Amity and I'm going as soon as possible. Probably tonight...I dont know when I'll come back, maybe never...unless I take someone with me who needs to return to this place...". She looked up at him. She couldnt help it. He'd been waiting for her too glance up. He winked at her. Deep pink coloring flushed through her cheeks like wildfire. Damn..she hated when that happened! Transaction completed, he put the change back into his billfold, then shoved it back into his back pocket. He picked up the little brown bag containing his bottle, then pulled his cap down over his eyes, never taking them from hers. "See you at nine", he smiled brightly as he turned toward the door to leave. "Tell me...", she called out to him as he was walking out of the door, "Why, really, did my father ask you to stay away from me?", now she was leaning over the counter. "He thinks I'm going to break your already damaged heart", Quints smile wasnt as bright this time. He wasnt as sure of himself at this moment. He wasnt going to lie to her and he was afraid, if she was a daddys girl, that she'd honor her fathers wishes and he would blow his chance of getting her to go with him tonight, "He doesnt want his little girl hurt again, is all...I dont blame him. I have a little girl of my own". He paused and put his hand over his chest, patting himself just above his left shirt pocket, "...but he doesnt know just how tender this old heart is...", giving her his best 'sad-little-boy-expression', "Cause, if he knew, then he wouldnt have anything to worry about...". After a moment, he pulled in his pouty lip, dropped his eyebrows, then winked and smiled at her...as he walked out the door, singing "Show me the way to go home". "I dont think your heart is so old...", she said to him as she watched him, through the window, as he crossed the street, knowing he couldnt hear her, now. He sat inside of his truck, next to the phonebooth, waiting for Martins call. He turned on the radio and tuned it in until he found some old Beatles tune, then he sat back and broke the seal on the bottle and took a swig. "I hope you call in before nine, Brody!", he said to the air, "Cause I'm goin'na be mighty busy after that!", he chuckled, making a mock toast to the telephone. He had already been determined to go to Amity with or without Martin, but he was hoping he would go. If he could get Sierra to go with him, he didnt want to come on too strong, too 'pushy', as he had a tendancy to do, because, if she was as sweet as she seemed, then he wanted to keep her and he hadnt really done any serious courting since he courted Elena, more than twenty years before. He never really had to 'court' Maria. He and she had been like two powerful "sex-magnets" just drawn to each other without will. So he was really going to need a 'coach' with Sierra. He looked down at his pocket watch. It was only quarter past seven. He sat back to listen to the radio, to drink and relax while he waited. He nodded off, totally unaware that, now, Sierra was watching him...just as he had done earlier to her. Ten minutes of nine, the phone rang, startling Quint out of a sound sleep. He rushed to the phone and picked it up. It was Martin. "Whats the word, chief?". "I'm home, packing, now", Martin told him, "Where do you want me to meet you and when?". "Give me two hours, chief", he told Martin, thinking about the things he should have done while he was sleeping, "Got a few things to get done first...then meet me behind this little store...you know the one...I'll be leaving my truck here...we can take your van to the airport, ok?". "See you then", Martin said, hanging up. Quint got back into his truck, started it, then drove around the corner so he could park in the alcove behind the store. Sierra's heart sank as she watched his truck round the corner. She thought he had left without her. He parked his truck and got out. It was time to get around to the front of the store and meet Sierra as she locked up for the night. His heart raced with anticipation. "Hello", he purred, standing very close behind her as she concentrated on getting the door lock to latch properly. She jumped...startled. She turned quiickly to see Quint standing so closely behind her that she could feel his breath on her neck. "You scared me!", she gasped, "I..thought you had...left already...". "I'm sorry I scared you", he grinned, his heart pounding with excitement, "but I'm glad you looked so sad when you said you thought I'd left...that must meean you care...". He was making her blush, again. He had to be careful not to overdo it. "Let me make it up to you for scaring you by walking you to your destination?", he purred again, taking her arm gently to guide the way. She smiled up at him, leaning into him, "...And just where might my destination be?", she asked, shocked that she would even entertain the idea of putting herself into the hands of an almost perfect stranger! She had never done anything like this before. She had always minded her father - except for the one time when he had told her not to marry Alan...and she realized, now, that she would have been better off minding her father like she should have. She was a responsible, concientious woman, not known to partake of whims. But there was something different - special - about Quint. He was so sure of himself. He was relaxed, comfortable, friendly, outgoing, open and seemed honest, enticing and exciting. But she knew there had to be something pretty bad about him, however. She had only know her father to tell one other man to stay away from her - and that was her ex-husband, Alan. She'd had plenty of boyfriends before Alan and her father was always polite and fair to every one of them. She made a concious decision to talk to he father about Quint before she left with him, tonight. Yes. She had already made up her mind to go. She couldnt help it. Quint was so forceful and magnetic, so powerful and charming...it was as if her will were not her own when he was around. She just prayed she want going to be making another mistake, as she had with Alan... "Youre going to a seashore resort with me", he smiled down at her, his nose mere centimeters from hers, his eyes searching her soul, "...moonlight walks along the beach, a sail out under the stars...", he leaned in, closer, to whisper the last line into her ear, "...making love in a hammock above the warm sand...". She felt she would swoon. Wait!...This was crazy! It was as if she had awaken this morning to find herself inside of a snow globe. When Quint turned on the charm, every breath, every thought, every ounce of will swirled around her, just out of reach. She was thoroughly hooked. "I...er...uh...", she stammered, unable to take her eyes from his, unable to move away...unable to catch her breath, "I...have to...go...pack...some things...". Quint felt it. He had her. She took the bait, fought the line but was now being reeled in. He hadnt lost his touch, after all! He slipped his arm tightly around her waist and gently, but firmly, pulled her tightly to his body. So tight that she could feel his heartbeat. His expression was a serious one as his rapidly beating heart caused him to take short, quick breaths, his nostrils flaring with excitement. He laid his warm cheek against hers, now rough with stubble but it still felt good to her. It had been so long since a man had held her this way. He whispered into her ear, "....Where are you going to tell your father youre going, my love?", his growl deep and animal-like, provocative and screaming with desire, his breath hot against her cool skin. She fought harder to maintain her sense of self control than she had ever fought in her life! "I'l, tell him I'm...going...to...", she was losing consciousness to the little kisses he was planting on her neck, cheek and earlobe, "...stay with...a...friend....". Her breathing was shallow and she was getting light-headed. If she didnt break away right now, then she wasnt going to be able to make it home to find out from her father what she was getting herself into! Somewhere, from deep within herself, she found the strength to shove him away. "If I'm late, dadwill come looking for me...", she rasped. "You want me to walk you home?", He asked, a bit glassy-eyed himself from passion. "No", she said, her hand still firmly on his chest, holding him back, "You just go on over to the Harbor bar and wait for me...I'll meet you there in a little while...". "You'd better make it by eleven", he informed her, "...because we're meeting a friend of mine over behind the store, near my truck...then its off to the airport". His tone was forceful. "But...I dont even know yet if I can get time off from my job or if I'm going to have trouble with dad...", she rationalized. "I'll take care of your job...you just see to your father...now, go!", he swung her around, grasping her tighlty once more, kissing her passionately on the mouth. He patted her bottom and winked at her as he turned to walk away, grinning like a mad man, leaving her standing there, thoroughly dumbstruck. Quint knocked at the door in the back of the store building. He had to knock loudly and several times before he got an answer. "Whos out there?", Bradshaw called from the inside. "Michael Quint!". "What do you want at this hour, Quint?..The stores closed and I aint openin' it!". "I dont want nothin' from your bloody store, man!...I want to talk to you about Sierra Deveroux!...Its personal...can we talk with a little more privacy than this, please?". There were a few moments of silence befor Quint heard the chains coming off and the latches being clicked. "You really ought to keep up with the times, Bradshaw", Quint told him sarcastically, "...Theres a new invention called a 'peephole' that comes in mighty handy". "Alright...alright!", an irritated Bradshaw complained, "Enough of the smartassed remarks!", he walked out into the little alcove of a parking area where Quint had parked his truck, tying the belt on his worn, old plaid bathrobe, smoking a cigar, "...So?..What do you wanna know about Deveroux?...She dont have no kids, shes divorced, shedont have a husband who'll come after you for making passes at her - though I'm not too sure that her father wont do that, himself and, if she had any money, then she wouldnt be here...Now, that ought to answer yer questions, since I'm sure yer only out to get in her pants, anyway!", he snorted. "I'm shocked!", Quint gasped sarcastically, "I'm really hurt!". That smartassed grin was priceless. "If you dont want to get in her pants, then what DO you want?", Bradshaw huffed, "C'mon, Quint...suprise me!". "Alright. You got me", Quint admitted, chuckling, "...I wanna know if you'll give her a coupla days off so I can take her out of town a few days". "Shes got tomorrow and friday off, already", Bradshaw snorted, "Hell!...How much time do you need??. "A week", Quint said, seriously, "Let her come back a week from saturday". "No way!", bradshaw wouldnt budge. "Come on, Bradshaw", Quint pleaded, semi seriously, "...do it for love!". "I'm keepin' her HERE out of love, already!!", Bradshaw grunted, "...my love of eating, my love of paying the bills, which I cant do if she aint here working for me, selling my wares!...And if YOU want 'love', then I suggest you go home and get it from your wife!!". At that, he slammed the door in Quints face. Damn! Quint was really getting tired of having doors slammed in his face today!! So what? He would lie to her. He'd just tell her that he fixed it with old fart Bradshaw for her to have two weeks off, then deal with the consequences later! By then, he should have worked enough of his magic on her so that she couldnt get pissed at him. But, no...it wasnt fair. And if he wanted to keep her around, a lie would only ruin it for him. His lies always had a tendancy to come back and haunt him. But what else was he going to do? He wanted this badly...well? Quint always got what he really wanted...no matter what the price... He had an idea. He got into his truck and tore out of that parking alcove like he was running from the law! He headed straight to the old highway and drove halfway around the bay until he got to Frank McClaridges house. Frank had mentioned to Quint a number of times that he needed to hire a second waitress to be on hand when the summer tourists came into the cafe. Kate would literally run herself ragged during the summers and, if he had a second waitress during the off-peak seasons, he could promote Kate to bartender, which would give him more time off. Well. Quint was just about to deliver him that second waitress! "Quint?...Whatre you doing here this time of night?!", Frank answered the door in his pajamas and bathrobe, his wife standing behind him, waiting to find out what in the world was going on. "I'm very sorry, Frank", Quint apologized. He felt both guilty and selfish for disturbing Frank this late for something that really could have waited until tomorrow, but that Quint wanted tonight. Frank had been good to Quint, which made Quint feel even worse. "I'm sorry but I dont have alot of time, here...or else I wouldnt make such an imposition as this...". "Come on in...", Frank held the door open for him. "Can we talk...er...private...?", Quint asked, his eyes jumping between Frank and his missus. Frank turned and asked his wife to leave them alone awhile. When they were comfortably seated in Franks livingroom, he laid out the whole, sordid situation. *********************************************************************** "A little late tonight, arent we?", Casey mentioned as Sierra walked down the hallway, past his room. "yes, dad...I know", her mind suddenly shifted into overdrive, set to hide what shes been doing and to appear as normal as possible, "I ran into an old school chum and we got to talking and lost track of the time...I hope I didnt disturb you...". She was now talking from her room, only a few feet away, packing her suitcase. "Who was it, dear?", Casey asked, trying, in his own way, to verify her story. "A girl I was friends with way back in the fourth grade...Rhonda Nyland...dad...she invited me over to her place in Guerneville, and, since I'm off work the next two days, I said I'd go...she's having some big barbeque bash...I might take saturday and sunday off, too...", she waited for her fathers reaction. "You sure youre gonna be alright...?", Casey asked, "...People do change, you know...". He was worried. He was a father. It was his right to be. He didnt want to say too much. After all, he wanted her to get out and have friends...a life. "I know, dad...", she smiled to herself, feeling secure with his concern, "...but I promise...I'll be alright. Tell you what...I'll call you when I get there, ok?". She wondered about asking about Quint. She didnt want to make her dad suspicious about that and go looking for Quint and her and not finding either of them then putting two and two together. Her dad was a pretty sharp guy. She wondered if he would catch on to where she was really going? And with with whom? Oh, he'd go through the roof! But he was in his room, in bed, tired and sounding sleepy. He was pretty easy to get over on when he was that way. She came and stood in his bedroom doorway. "Dad...", she leaned against the doorjamb, crossing her arms over her chest. "What is it, dear?", he asked. He was propped up on pillows and had his newspaper in one hand and had removed his pipe with the other...the way he looked every night of her life that she could remember. It was a comforting sight. "After you introduced me to that Mr. Quint this morning, I overheard you asking him to stay away from me. I wanted to ask you why this morning, but I was running late. Why do you want him to stay away from me? Is he an axe murderer or something?!". Casey chuckled, "Nothing that dramatic, dear...he's just a big time 'womanizer'...he's got a wife over there on LightHouse Cove road. He's got a daughter in junior high school and a son in college. He had been keepin' a woman over in Santa Rosa who, its suspected, had his illegitimate daughter...not to mention the fact that he's been chasin' every skirt since he's been here. He cant go spend too much time at the tavern because theres alot of men after him for flirtin' with thier wives. His own wife cant even have any friends over or he's on them!". He knew he was padding the story, but he figured the worse Quint sounded to her, the less likely she would fall for his bullshit lines when he flirted with her. Oh, but it was already too late! ...Or...was it...? "Dad...you've got to be exaggerating!", she huffed, "...You know, I've heard alot of gossip in that little store the couple of weeks I've been here and I havent heard anything like that about Quint. I think I'm a reasonably fair looking girl and eveyone knows I'm single...dont you thik someone should have warned me about the 'big wolf on campus' by now?!". "You've got a point", Casey chuckled at the 'big wolf on campus' remark. It fit Quint! But he was losing the argument, "But I dont know why people wouldnt talk to you about 'old Quint...they talk to each other enough about him...I suppose its cause you're still new to town...nobody knows you well enough to gossip with, maybe?...Sure...you're my daughter and you were born and raised here...but, you left. Its like you told 'em all this place wasnt good enough for you...they dont trust you, now...so, you take it from your old dad and stay away from Quint. He'll just end up hurting you before you can even get over Alan, all the way...okay?". "Sure, dad...no problem", she gave him a fake smile to reassure him, hiding her disappointment. Old men were as bad as old women when it came to gossip, "...he's too old for me, anyway!", just to reassure him further. He laughed...until he remembered that he and "old" Quint were about the same age! "Hey!", he frowned. Then she laughed. But her heart was heavy. "Oh, Quint couldnt be that bad", she tried reasoning with herself. She wouldve surely heard something bu now from someone else of Quint was that awful! The people of Bodega Bay surely loved thier gossip and whenit was about something as 'juicy' as a 'coastal casanova', tongues would wag from Sausalito to Crescent City, stranger or not! And if she's such a stranger, then why does she know about how old Mrs. Olsen likes to set out on her back stoop in her under garments on hot days? She doesnt even know Mrs. Olsen! And she knows about Mr. McKracken at the post office having an affair with Mrs. Chierburg behind HIS wifes back...thats WHEN Mrs. Chierburg isnt stepping out Barney Cummings from Bodega Boat Works, who is the brother of Carl Cummings, Bodega Bay councilman! So, she reasoned that if she had been told all of that, then there was no reason why they would hide something about Quint. Her dad just probably didnt like Quint. Maybe Quint beat him out on a card game a long time ago or made a pass at her mother way back when? Who knows. She couldnt find a reasonable reason to believe her dad. But she didnt know Quint all that well, so she would go on this trip with him but she would (try to!) keep her distance from him until she could figure him out. She wasnt dumb. Being married to Alan had taught her alot about men. Also, Quint said a friend of his was going along. She could talk to this friend and see what he had to say...if anything. She'd also found that men do lie for each other. But there was the chance that, if she got him alone before Quint could, he might say something that he didnt know Quint didnt want her to know about. Even if this friend acted 'nervous' when she would ask about Quint, she would know Quint was hiding something, so he didnt even have to say anything at all. Besides...she was bored here. She had come to refer to Bodega Bay as "The Retirement Village". It got so boring for her here that she sometimes was sorry she came back. She sometimes cried herself to sleep. There was nothing to do, nowhere to go...they rolled up the streets at night, it seemed. You could go into San Francisco, if you had a car, but she didnt. Didnt really need one in Bodega Bay. You could walk everywhere you wanted to go, the town was so small. And so what if Quint wanted to 'use' her? At least, this time, she would know it was coming and could enjoy it if she so chose! The way she saw it, she was going to be useing him. She needed a little excitement in her life right now and she could certainly use a little positive attention from a man for a change. Anything was being better than constantly being told she was 'worthless' and 'stupid' and 'ugly'! The only real harm she could find in any of this was lying to her father. But his love for her was suffocating her and she needed a break anyway she could get it! "I've got to meet Rhonda back at the store at eleven, dad", she told him, "so I have time to get you a snack or something...you hungry?". "Naw", he said, "...I was just about to turn down the light and get some shut-eye..thanks, anyway, dear", he smiled. "Okay, dad", she smiled back, "pleasant dreams and I'll see you when I get back, okay?". "Okay, dear...come home safe". "Will do". She pulled the door to as she went out. She went back to her room. She couldnt believe how easy that was, but her guilt was starting to get to her. "No!", she said to herself, "I'm not going to feel guilty about this! This is something thats going to make me happy and I wont feel guilty about it! So what if I have to lie to daddy about it? I'm a grown woman, for Gods sakes! I dont have to answer to my father everytime I want to go out with a man!". It was now only 9:45pm. She had more than an hour before she had to meet Quint at the Harbor bar. She picked up her suitcase, her jacket and her purse, then turned her light out. She tip-toed quietly down the hall, down the stairs and into the livingroom. She sat on the divan, contemplating on wether she should turn on a light or not. A light on this late might attract attention from some of the fishermen who docked just outside...who might come knocking at the front door to find out what old Casey was doing up this late, wanting to play a game of poker or drink and jabber all night. So she decided she would just set in the dark until it was time to go. It wasn't really dark with the lights off, anyway...she could still see fairly well inside the house. This house, a converted piershack, faced right onto the docks. In fact, the pier was thier front porch. So the lights strung across the tops of the poles to light the pier at night, illuminated the inside of the house, as well. However, it was a soothing illumination. One that brought back many warm, comforting memories from her childhood. As she leaned her head back on the divan and closed her eyes to think of those memories, she slipped into sleep. *********************************************************************** Frank McClaridge, much to Quints delight, happily agreed to hire on Sierra Deveroux the minute QUint brought her back from "thier vacation"...and to keep quiet about it - especially to Casey. "But what about your missus?", Frank asked suspiciously, trying to, someway, justify in his own mind, why he would be helping Quint to run off with another woman. "You see this...?", Quint bent forward to show him the bandage that Lizzie had put there, "...My missus gave me this when she threw me and all my stuff out of the house". "And just why did she throw you out, Quint?", he asked, a suspicious grin on his face. "A friend of mine and I - a man, I might add...", shooting a grin at Frank...hr knew Frank was assuming the fight was over another woman, especially since Casey had told him about how everyone assumed he was this huge womanizer, "...took off from a party one night and were gone too long...I guess she's no different than anyone else around here who believes I'm a 'womanizer'...", Quint gave Frank a good natured 'shot'. 'Well...what the hell were you doing for four hours, anyway?!", Frank asked, "...There aint nothin' to do around here that long...especially at night...legal or moral!". "He and his missus is having trouble, Mac...". Everyone, at one time or another, referred to Frank as 'Mac', short for MCClaridge. It was what he was called back when he was in the Air Force and it was still what his wife called him and a buddy he had from the Force who also lived in Bodega Bay. "...I took him out to sit and drink and let him get it all off his chest...you know how it is". He wasnt going to tell Frank that he was hanging out with a guy who was in a full-blown affair...besides it not being any of Franks business, it may have thrown a wrench into the gears. "Well, then...what about this woman in Santa Rosa I've heard about?...Wont you be cheatin' on her?". Quints expression grew somber, "That 'woman' died in a car accident over a year ago, Mac...", wishing he just didnt have to talk about Maria anymore. Every time he did, it was like a knife through his heart. "Er...would you mind telling me about her?", Frank asked hesitantly. He knew it was none of his business, but he was still just as curious as everyone else, "...I really dont mean to be so nosey, but, well...people around here gossip so much that if the Pope stopped here to get gas on his way to Sacramento, within a week the story would be that God, Himself, sat him down here to build a holy shrine and save all of us tongue-waggin' sinners!". They laughed heartily. It was so true! "The point is, Quint", Frank continued, "that everyone around here wants to gossip thier asses off, but nobody wants to keep thier facts straight. Maybe they dont even have the facts in this case? I'm sure you dont go around tellin' people yer business...and, since I make it a habit only to listen and not to talk, I thought I might get you to give me the low-down so, at least, one of us will know the real deal...". Quint knew he was right. Maybe if someone around here knew the truth, the rumors would, at least, be correct. And Quint had no problem telling Frank the truth. Hey...the guy was helping him out. The least he owed him was the truth. So, quint laid out the entire story for him. Everything, not missing one tiny little detail, even including Elenas affair with Rob Damon. He even included the baby that Maria was carrying when she was killed, clearing up little Rosa being thought of as his illegitimate daughter. He pointed out that he loved Rosa like his own, but Maria had been married and he (Quint) wasn't even in the picture when Rosa was concieved. "And since I've been married, she was the only one I slept with..ever...swear to God", though he winced when the memory of those two gals came to mind, when he had 'run away', during his duration as Amity mayor... "You know, its funny", Quint smirked, "I've got the biggest reputation as a womanizer since Valentino out of this one affair...", he took a long guzzle of the beer Mrs. McClaridge had brought him when they first sat down about an hour before, finishing it off. "Yeah...the 'rumor mill'...", Frank sighed, "Its really the only bad thing about living here. Ya can't fart around here without the rest of the town knowin' about it the next day...honest to God!...But ya either get used to it and deal with it, or ya get the hell out". He finished his beer, now. "Oh, damn!!", Quint winced, "Look at the time!...I've got to meet this gal and my friends in five minutes!!...Listen", Quint said, standing up, extending his hand for a shake, "I appreciate everything you're doing for me, Frank...it means alot to me...thank you". "Hey", Frank grinned, "Youre the one helping me out!...I can now go up and tell my wife that we can go on that vacation cruise anytime now!". Quint hurried to his truck. Martin should be pulling up behind the store at any minute, now...and he didnt want to keep Sierra waiting. When Quint got to the store, it was dark and deserted. He looked at his pocket watch - the watch that had belonged to his grandfather and that still kept perfect time. It was ten past eleven. "Where the hell is everybody?!", Quint said, to himself. He sat there, all sorts of thoughts ran through his mind. What if Sierra had let it slip that she was leaving with him and she and Casey had it out? What if Dawn decided that she didnt want to go and Martin couldnt find him to call him? He couldve called the phone booth while he was over talking to Frank... He was so hyped about making this trip that he hadnt thought about possible 'snags' in the plan! He supposed he'd go back to the boat and get ripped and pass out. Maybe he would go to Amity on his own? Maybe he would even stay there! At this point, he was feeling pretty low about it all. He sat there about fifteen minutes before he's realised that Sierra had told him that she would meet him at the Harbor bar! Damn! What was he doing here, setting on his ass?! He quickly exited the truck, deciding he would just walk over and leave his truck there, so Martin would know he was around somewhere, incase he showed up while he was getting Sierra. But just as he was clearing the back of the truck, he was suddenly blinded by bright car lights, coming into the parking lot. "Quint!", Martins voice called out the SUV window, "I'm sorry we're late...Dawn wanted to stop and get a few things at the store, but we ran into a friend of mine and Ellens while we were there and I had to ditch her...". Quint had walked up and leaned on the door. He was never happier to see anyone in his life. "Dont worry about it, Brody", he looked across Martin to Dawn and smiled, tipping his cap to her, "It only gave my date a little more time...". "Where is she?...I'd like to meet this one!", Martin grinned, lighting a cigarette, much to Dawns distaste. "She never made it...", Quint sighed, "Guess I was just an old fool, thinking I still had what it takes to make the young girls blush...". "I thought you had everything set?", Martin asked. "Guess not", Quint sighed, "...but how about goin', anyway?...I still miss the old homestead same as I did before her...". "Okay, pal", Martin said, feeling sympathetic for his friend, "...get your things and put 'em in back and lets get going...". As they drove toward the docks, an idea popped into Quints head. "Pull over for a second, Brody". "What for?", Martin asked. "I just wanna go over and find out why I got stood up", he got out of the van, "I wont be long", he grinned as he shut the door. Martin knew that grin and he knew Quint. That was one of his 'determined' grins, meaning he wasnt coming back until he got what he wanted and he was like some kind of a psychotic bull when there was something he wanted! He would persue it until it either gave in or died! "Set back and relax, babe", he told Dawn, "...this might take awhile". He watched Quint as he walked down the pier toward the house, his head down, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. Martin shook his head and sighed, "Quints had more trouble with women...". "I dont know Quint all that well, but...", Dawn said, careful of her words. She knew they were tight friends...she didnt want to tread on sacred ground, "...maybe he brings it on himself, somehow?". "Maybe youre right", he sighed, turning from looking at her back to watching Quint, who was now standing there, looking in the windows of the house, "You know, if we were back in Amity, right now, I'd arrest him for what he's doing". Once a cop, always a cop. When Quint knelt down and peered into the livingroom window, he saw the top of Sierra's head on the back of the couch. He tapped gently on the window. She didnt move. He tapped a little harder. Not a stir. He didnt want to knock or tap any louder. He didnt know if Casey was a light sleeper or not. He checked to see if the window would open. Nope. He then walked around, checking all the first floor windows that he could get to (that werent over the water), to see if any of them would open. He found a small one, around the side, to the kitchen, way up high. "Shit!", he hissed, his hands on his hips, staring up at little window. He wondered of his large frame would fit through it...or how he was even going to get up there, to it. He spied an equipment locker on a nearby boat. "(heh!)...I'll get to her, yet!", he chuckled, retrieving the locker and placing it under the window. It was damned heavy and it strained Quints old, tired back muscles, but his sheer determination got it there, nevertheless. "Hey!", Martin chuckled, nudging Dawn, "Check this out!", he pointed at Quint. She had to lean over Martin and strain to see in the dark. "Whats he doing?!", she whispered, watching Quint get up onto that locker, then grabbing onto the little window ledge and trying to heave himself up into it. "I guess he saw her in there and he's trying to get in after her...", Martin grinned, not taking his eyes off of 'the show'. "But what if she doesnt want to see him?", Dawn asked. "That doesnt matter to Quint!", Martin laughed, "You should see that old certifiable bastard when he goes after something he wants!...You'd just better get out of his way and let him have it!", Martin was still laughing. "Well...he certainly does look determined...", she remarked. "Determined!", Martin snorted, "Now thats a word I never would have thought of when referring to Quint...psycho, maybe, but not 'determined'!". "Martin!", Dawn scolded, trying to hide a grin. Quint finally got inside, after a major struggle, a bruised hip and knee and a cut on his hand from the knife somebody left in the sink. Thankfully, the lights from the pier lit up the inside of the house enough for him to navigate through it to find her. When he made it to the livingroom sofa, he knelt down beside the sleeping Sierra. He tugged on her pinky finger. She didnt stir. "JesusHchrist, she sleeps soundly!", he whispered to himself. He leaned forward and kissed her gently on the mouth. That startled her awake. She screamed. He quickly put his hand over her mouth. "Its me!...Quint!", he whispered, smiling, "..I'm your knight in shining armour, who hath cometh to rescue his fair damsel...". She smiled back at him, though his hand covered it. "How did you get in?", she whispered when he took his hand away. "I cometh through yon window, my maiden fair!", he pointed to the open kitchen window in the other room, grinning madly. She was eating up this Shakespearian bit...and he was thoroughly enjoying that. "You are so romantic...", she purred, slipping her arms around his neck. She had only meant to hug him, but her face being so close to his, in the shadows of the darkness, the intoxicating aroma of his "Pacific Light" aftershave permeating her senses, she couldnt help putting her mouth onto his and kissing him tenderly...passionately. Her fingers found thier way into his curls, caressing the back of his head, as she lost herself in his kiss. His hands grasped her waist tightly, holding her firmly to him. She was setting on the edge of her divan, while he was on his knee's on the floor in front of her. The thought of being between her thighs intensly excited him... He stood up, not taking his mouth from hers, then gently forced her backward before crawling atop her. He made love to her with an excited passion. When they were spent, he still didnt want to let go of her...nor she, him. But he remembered that they had people waiting for them. "We've got to go, lady love", he whispered seductively into her ear before kissing it. "My friends are out in the car, waiting for us...are you ready?". "Yes", she whispered...completely entranced. Yes. He had her hooked, for sure. "What the hell is taking so long?!", Dawn whined, impatiently. "I know what they're doing...", Martin chuckled, lighting a cigarette as he gave her a 'knowing' glance. "Oh..!...But, he wouldnt be in there doing that...not while he knows we're out here...waiting...would he...?!", Dawn gasped. "Quint can't help himself, babe", Martin told her, "Quint is...well...Quint. He's spontaneous, impatient...and certifiable!", he laughed. "He's a horny old bastard!...But, he's my best friend. He's a good, honest, hardworking guy who'd give you the shirt off of his back if you asked for it. We've been through alot together and I've got to know him pretty well over the years. I put up with his shit, but, God knows...he's put up with alot from me, too". "You two deserve each other", she sighed, rolling her eyes, her impatientness getting the best of her, "...I think youre both certifiable!". "Here they come", Martin said, setting up straight in his seat, ready to get the SUV started, ready to go. "Thank christ", Dawn uttered. Martin gave her a funny look. ########### "Its about damned time!", Martin said to Quint as he and Sierra got into the back of the van, as he turned the ignition on and started the engine. "We, er...got a little carried away with our...'discussion'...", Quint grinned. "Yeah...and I know what you were discussing, too!", Martin chuckled, under his breath. Quint heard it and laughed. "Listen", Quint said, "...Martin, Dawn...I want you to meet my...'friend'...Sierra Deveroux...SiSi, this is my very best buddy in the whole world...my partner in crime, my confidant, my cohort...Martin Brody...and this is his lovely lady friend, Miss Dawn Kelly". "Christ, Quint", Martin uttered as he pulled the SUV away from the docks, back toward the road, "Youre introducing friends, not handing out an academy award!". "Yeah, yeah, yeah...", Quint laughed at his pal's good natured sarcasm. "Nice to meet you both", Sierra smiled shyly. "Hi", Dawn greeted her warmly, "Hey, Quint...nice to see you again". "Same here", Quint smiled, tipping his cap. "Hello, Sierra", Martin said to her via the rearview mirror as he drove, "...I'd like to gove you one word of caution...if you plan on hanging on to this guy, youre going to need seatbelts, 'cause he lives his life at a hundred miles per hour!". "Er...uh...okay...", she smiled...wondering what she'd just gotten herself into. Quint looked down at her, flashing one of his infamous grins, raising his eyebrows. "I think I'm in trouble...", she grinned nervously. "Oh, she catches on fast!", Martin quipped. "Just as long as ye keep me from gettin' bored, we'll do alright", he grinned. To Sierra, he looked like he was just kidding. But Martin knew just how serious he was. He glanced back at Quint in the mirror to take note of his facial expression, just to make sure. Yep. He definately was quite serious about what he'd just said. Quint saw Martin looking at him. "You sure dont take much time getting to the point, do you, Quint?", Martin smiled, shaking his head. "I just believe in bein' honest and up front about things, chief", he smiled, sighing, "I like to get all the serious crap out of the way so I can get right ot the fun parts", he chuckled as he removed a half pint of apricot brandy from his pocket. ########## Quint offered to pay for everyones plane fares. He'd planned on it from the beginning, but Martin insisted on paying for him and Dawn. It was a "guy thing", so Quint didnt argue too much about it. They caught the red-eye to Hyannis, then they located a motel so they could catch a few winks before taking the ferry over to the island and get a fresh look at Amity in the daylight. The motel they found had a geat view of Cape Cod Bay. It had taken them a couple of hours to find a place with rooms available. After all, this was june - touists were crowding all the seaside resort towns - AND the motels. They had to rent a car at the airport and drive north, all the way to Sagamore, before they could find a place to stay. ##### Quint sat in the chair, in the dark, as Sierra lay in bed, staring out the window out over the bay. The memories this place brought back to him...his childhood, his grandparents, his father, his first two wifes, who had sailed many a time into this port to visit his grandparents with him, his grandfathers funeral...they had sailed from this bay to the ocean to bury him at sea...the cemetery where his grandmother was buried wasnt too far from here...time, life, goes by too painfully quick. ########## Sierra laid there, watching him. He was only a silhouette in the darkness, though she could clearly see part of his face from the glow from the lights of the harbor, down the small embankment outside the window. She saw tears glistening down his cheeks. She knew this place held special importance to him. It was clear to see. And any man who could feel so sentimental about his home town - a man who could feel sentimental about anything, really - couldnt be as bad as her father tried to make him out to be. She decided she would continue to pretend to be asleep. She didnt want to embarrass him in any way, to interrupt his stroll down memory lane. It was important to him and he should have it. ########## But, the next day, she noticed that, instead of acting happy and relaxed, like a man who was happy to be back in his hometown should be, he was instead tense and moody. Many times during the day, she lost track of him. He kept wandering off, alone. She had no clue as to what was going on behind those cool, blue eyes of his. She wished she did...sometimes he looked so...forlorn. ########## That night, in the motel room they had gotten for themselves on Amity Island, he was edgy, frustrated and restless. He obviously had something on his mind that bothered him. He wasnt paying any attention to her, at all. His physical body was there, but his mind and soul were a million miles away. At first, she began to feel guilty, as if, perhaps, she might be the cause of his troubles. Maybe she was boring him already? Maybe she wasnt the company he had hoped she would be? She was beginning to feel badly for being a damper to what should be an exciting vacation for him. She remembered what he had said as they were leaving for the airport: "As long as you keep me from getting bored, we'll do alright". Only she didnt think he was actually 'bored'. The more she thought about it, the more it seemed that he was sad about something. He was a most perplexing man...but, with a sigh, she decided it wouldnt hurt to try something outrageously hilarious or just downright crazy, if only to find out if he would respond to it. He was so different from any man she had ever known, so, getting his attention would require something different, as well. Besides, anything was better than this, she thought. She had expected an exciting, romantic adventure with an exciting, romantic man. Instead, what she was getting was a self-absorbed, reclusive, bitter, old man on a solitary vacation. She didnt like it at all. It was sort of frightening, actually. So she needed to either change it - or get on the next plane, home.##### "I'm going out for a few minutes", she said, abruptly, getting up from the bed where Quint lay, on his side facing away from her, listening to the Beatles on the radio playing "In my life". He ignored her. She went out and closed the door quietly behind her. She paused just long enough to sigh, "I hope this works!". ########## She went walking, almost all over the island, trying to find a place where to get her paycheck cashed. he finally had to go get Martin to help her. He took her over to Harold Jefferson. He was a former Amity councilman who knew Martin well from the days when he was sheriff. He now owned the only bowling alley on the island. Martin personally gauranteed her check for Harold, so he took her check and gave her cash. After ward, he and Dawn drove her to the store. Sierra bought three cases of sheap champagne (she knew it wouldnt be enough to fill the bathtub, but it just may be enough to play in!). She also bought candles, strawberries and chocolate syrup and confectioners sugar to dip them into, potpourri - and even a dirty magazine, just incase she couldnt quite make the mood work, by herself. As Martin helped her load the things into the back of the SUV, he commented, "Looks like a pretty hot night". "I've got to do something...", she sighed, "...He's been in this quiet, sad mood ever since we got here...he either lays in bed, listening to the radio all day or just stares out over the water...its frustrating...he told me not to let him get bored, but now I'm the one who's bored!".##### On the way back to the motel, she asked Martin about Quint. "Well...", Martin sighed, "...I can only tell you about Quint from back when I met him in '75, when I was sheriff and we had to hire him because we were having a problem with a huge shark, eating up the tourists...". "Oh, gross!!", Dawn crinkled her nose in disgust. Martin just rolled his eyes. "Me, the mayor and some of the town council had this meeting to try and figure out what to do about this shark, when in walks Quint, scraping his nails across the chalkboard in the back to get everyones attention, so he could tell us that he hunted sharks for a living and that he was offering up his services...for seven thousand dollars more than what was being offered up...". "Did you pay it?", Sierra asked, curiously. "Wellll...", Martin hesitated, "...we were going to...but it didnt quite turn out as we expected...". "What happened?", Sierra asked. "Well", Martin sighed, "that shark had attacked a swimmer while the mayors kids were only a few feet away, freaking the mayor out...you see, mayor Vaughn wasnt about to pay one guy the three grand that he was in charge of - the mother of a boy who was killed by the shark put it up for the capture and killing of the shark, but put the money into tight-fisted Vaughns hand - anyway, when Vaughns kids were too close for comfort with that big-finned bastard, I got him to sign the contract to hire Quint to go get the shark, like he said he could do. So me, Matt Hooper - a kid from the oceanographic institute on the mainland - went with Quint after the shark. Damn. That thing was huge, too!...Anyway, me, Quint and Matt were out on Quints boat for two days...us chasing that shark, that shark chasing us...the damned thing was actually CHASING us!!...well, after it finally decided to stop screwing around with us, it came crashing up onto the deck after us...". The women sat listening, entranced. They hung on Martins every word. "I guess", he continued, "After tearing apart that metal cage to get at Matt, then Matt getting away from him, really ticked that shark off, so...he came after me and Quint. He got Quint, too...". "WHAT?!", Dawn shrieked. "Quint slid down the deck, right into the sharks mouth", Martin said, matter-of-factly, looking at her with a nonchalant expression. "Wait", she held out her hands, "I'm missing something here...if a shark that big got Quint into his mouth, then how could he be alive, now?!". "I'm wondering the same thing...", Sierra said, looking completely confused. Martin looked back at Sierra in the rearview mirror, so he could read her expression, "Have you seen Quint naked yet?". "Martin!?", Dawn gasped, "I hardly think thats any of your business!!", she was mortified at his rudeness. "Okay, okay...", he sighed, rolling his eyes, "...So maybe I should have presented that question a little differently...what I'm trying to get at is, if she's seen how scarred up he is?...I saw this guy covered in blood, going down into the water between the teeth of that shark...I swear to God I thought he was dead. Thought Hooper was, too...thought that shark had got him out of the cage...". "You poor baby!", Dawn said, rubbing his arm assuringly, "With your fear of the water, you must have been terrified!". "Oh, fine!...tell the whole damned world about my fear of the water!..Jeez, you women have big traps, you know that?!", he hissed under his breath. "Its alright, Martin", Sierra assured him quietly, "...I know how to keep it between us....". They pulled into the motel parking lot, then Martin stopped the engine. "Anyway", he continued, "I was trapped in that sinking cabin with the shark crashing in after me...". He watched thier faces. He had never been able to go into this much detail before, while telling this story to women. Ellen could never bring herself to listen, nor could any of his friends wives. He wasnt sure how far he could take it or what would or wouldnt...well...make them puke or pass out. So, he watched thier faces for signs of anything that should tell him to stop. Then he would cut out the details and go straight to the point. But he never felt like any story was complete without details... He went on, "...I grabbed the first thing I could find to try and beat the shark away from me, which happened to be one of Hoopers air tanks that he used when diving. Beating with it wasnt doing any good, so I rammed it into his mouth, hoping he would think he got something to eat and get the hell away fro me, at least, long enough for me to get away from it...it swam off, luckily, long enough for me to climb out of the cabin and up onto the mast...I found Quints rifle on the bridge, so I took it with me. I had to climb the mast...it was just about the only thing that hadnt went under water at that point...it was also a good thing I grabbed the boat hook, too, I had to jab at the head of that damned big thing to keep it from biting through the mast and sending me into the water, with it...", Martin sighed, lighting another cigarette, "...Anyway, I positioned myself so I could get a good shot at that air tank hanging out of this things mouth...I remembered Matt telling me to be extra careful with them, because they could explode...so, I took a couple of shots at the tank, about the third one hit, the tank blew up in the sharks mouth, blowing up the shark...end of shark. And, since it was me who actually killed the shark, Quint didnt get the ten grand...but I did get the three grand, at Mrs. Kintners insistence. I put it into the bank for my boys college education, but when I saw that Quint and Matt were alive, I split it three ways". "But how did Quint and Matt make it?", Dawn asked, curious. "Well", he went on, "Matt had escaped from the cage while the shark was ripping it apart and swam over and hid behind some rocks while the thing was all caught up in the twisted metal of the cage. He heard the underwater explosion and came up to see what happened. We made a make-shift raft, of sorts, and paddled back to shore, thinking Quint was lost. There wasnt any reason not to believe that, at the time...but, a few days later, I get this call to investigate some loud, horrible moaning noise coming from behind some of the tourists cabins on the beach...I went out and found Quint, washed up and half dead, all bloody and chewed up...", Martin let out a little laugh, amazed at Quints sheer will-power, "...I swear I dont know how he survived...NO one does, actually...but this is why I asked Sierra if she'd seen him naked yet. At least, from the waist up...because, if she had and had asked about those huge scars, then she had probably heard this story, already". "Poor Quint...", Sierra muttered, almost on the verge of tears. Martin went on with the story, pushing it alittle further than he probably should have, telling her about Quint finding Elena after all those years, which is probably what Quint was hanging onto life for. He also told her about Quint fighting with those hoodlums, about becoming mayor, the accident that had landed him on the island where he met Maria. He covered just about everything he knew up to the fight he and Elena had at his house two nights before. Quint was probably going to be ultra-pissed at him for running his mouth like that, but he didnt care. Quint did it. He just saved Quint some talking time. After all, didnt Quint say that he liked to get all the serious business out of the way first, before he could enjoy the fun? Well...the way Martin saw it, he just saved Quint from all the serious stuff, so, nopw, he could get right to the fun! "So...", Martin sighed, his mouth dry from talking two-and-a-half hours, "...If Quint is acting moody, then its probably all of those memories hitting him at once, being here, where it all happened. Quint has led one hell of an eventful life just since I've known him...theres no telling what his childhood was like, so maybe its from something from that period, as well...ah, who knows with Quint, anyway?", Martin smiled, trying to break the seriousness of the moment, "He ought to be back to his usual, boisterous self after what you've got planned", he gestured at all the stuff in the back. "I hope so...", Sierra mumbled, her mind still on Quint between the sharks teeth. "You okay?", Dawn asked her. "Oh...yeah...I'm fine", she forced a smile, snapping out of her deep thought...for the time being, anyway. ##### Quint had, indeed, been through an awful lot in his life, which left her feeling both proud of him and sorry for him. But what interested her the most was the way that Martin had described the strong way that he had seen Quint love... Maria was gone and Elena had thrown him out of her life, so, maybe, just maybe, it could be her 'turn' to get some of that strong love... ##### "I'd better get this stuff inside...", Sierra said, opening the van door to get out, "You two want to come inside for a glass of champagne?". "No, thanks", Dawn grinned, not taking her eyes from Martin, "Seeing what youre doing is giving us ideas!". She giggled like a school girl. "Okay", Sierra smiled along with them,"Then, here...". She reached over the back of the seat and brought back a bottle of the bubbly, then handed it to them. "Have a toast to Quint and me...hope it all works out for us...then, toast yourselves, in hopes of a very interesting evening!". "Thank you!...We will!", Dawn smiled, taking the bottle from Sierra. ##### Both Martin and Dawn helped Sierra carry everything from the back of the SUV and set it just inside the motel room door, careful not to wake the sleeping Quint. "Thanks for everything tongiht, Martin", Sierra said to him, "I really appreciate the two of you giving up your evening together to help me out...". "Just dont forget that you two have a lunch date with us, tomorrow", Martin smiled, placing his hand gently on her shoulder, "...and dont forget to remind Quint that we're going to rent a boat and go out to the spot where we encountered that shark...". Dawn leaned in to whisper, "I apologize, Sierra...he is just wayyyy to obsessed with that shark thing...". "Anyway", he went on, turning to give Dawn a brief disappointed look before returning his eyes to Sierra, "You just let me see Quint his happy, loud, boisterous self and that'll be thanks enough for me, ok?". "I'll do my utmost best, Martin...I promise", she said, glancing back in at Quint, "I just hope he's not carrying so much emotional baggage that I can't help him lighten the load, you know?". ########## So, she carried the champagne inside, bottle by bottle, since the cases were just too heavy to carry all at once. She carried them straight to the bathroom, set the candles all around, sprinkled the potpourri all around, poured all but two bottles of the champagne into the tub, then set the paper plates with the strawberries, chocolate and powdered sugar on them along the edge of the tub. She had forgotten about champagne glasses, so the plastic ones on the dresser would have to do. Then she went into the closet and into her suitcase. She had brought along the little sheer, pink teddy with the satin ribbons and maribou trim and matching slippers that she had bought earlier this year to try and coax Alan back into a reconciliation the night he came to dinner - before she knew he was going to hand her the divorce papers before the meal was even laid on the table as he coldly announced that he would be getting married again. So the teddy and slippers were never used ------ until now. ########## She didnt know if she should wake Quint or if she should wait until he woke on his own. At first, she decided to let him sleep. She didnt want him to wake up in a bad mood. But she noticed that it was almost ten-thirty and she considered the idea that he just might sleep through the night, so she didnt want to take the risk. #She climbed into the bed beside him and snuggled against him. She ran the tip of her finger around the edge of his ear as she kissed the back of his neck and shoulder. #"Quint?", she called him softly, "...hey, sweetie...you wanna come take a bubble bath with me...?". #He grunted sleepily. #"Quint...?". #"I'm not in the mood", he grumbled, jerking his shoulder from beneath the arm she was resting on it. #"You know, I dont understand whats got into you...", she yelped painfully, the tears welling up in her eyes, "It was really nice between us before we got here...why did you even bring me here?!". She jumped up to change clothes. She suddenly felt used and cheap, strongly suspecting that all that bullshit charm he laid on her back in California was only to get into her pants and, now that he has, she was just another cheap thrill to him. #Quint had purchased two round-trip tickets for them in California and she was just about to make use of hers. #He jumped up and ran to the bathroom, "I'm not going to take this nagging bullshit from YOU!!". #But he stopped at the door. #When he saw the romantic little situation she had set up for them in the bathroom, he suddenly felt like a shit-heel. #He turned to apologize to her, but, seeing her standing there, in the soft glow of the candlelit bathroom, looking extraordinarily beautiful in that little pink nightie, he just went soft-hearted. #She was watching him with curiosity...wondering wether he was going to blow up, storm out, kiss her -- or what. #She had this pouty look on her face that stirred him around inside... #He was suddenly excited...and it was more than simple physical excitement, too. She had succeeded in peaking his inner interest, the interest that came from the same place that usually always left him feeling so restless and unfullfilled... #"When did you set this all up?", he asked, eyeing her with a cautious grin. #"Earlier...while you were asleep", she said, her own grin growing, feeling the Quint that had swept her off of her feet back in Bodega Bay slowly returning. #He walked over to her and took her into his arms and kissed her with a hot, searing passion. #He held her after the kiss, "I'm sorry, Si...", he was feeling guilty about letting the pain from the past interfere with the pleasure of the present, "Ive just had second thoughts about bringing you here...after all, I gave my word to a brother of the sea...we're supposed to be a tight group, you know...and I had givine him my word of honor that I wouldnt screw around with his little girl...I feel guilty about that...". #"Dont worry too much, love...", she smiled up into his eyes, "...when he see's how happy you've made me, I dont think he's going to be too upset...". #"You think so?", he grinned, looking down at her. He laughed seductively, his forehead pressed against hers, looking deeply into her eyes. #"Uh-huh", she giggled. #He lifted her up and sat her over on the bed, "Well...lets see just how happy I actually can make her!", he growled playfully, as she giggled madly. ######################################################## @#The months went by swiftly after the foursome left Amity to return to Bodega Bay. Dawns taut, firm figure rounded as the child grew within her while Martins weary body wore down from running between the woman he loved and the woman he lusted for. In fact, Martin was hospitalized briefly for exhaustion -- and Ellen had accidentally run into Dawn in the waiting room...Ellen knew who Dawn Kelly was, but there were alot of "little things" between Martin and Dawn that seemed suspicious, such as Dawn calling alot, the suttle changes in Martins voice when he talked to her, his sudden interest in forestry...but she had thought they had left all of that back in the Adirondaks. She was under the impression that she and Martin had moved to California to be near the Quints, but, when she saw Dawn, her suspicions were set ablaze once more. And to see her there, at the hospital, where Martin was, only fanned the flames. Her heart sank when she saw how pregnant Dawn was and realized, in her heart, that this was why Martin brought her here...after Dawn had told her that she had been transferred to California, she knew he came to be with her and thier child. #Though she didnt have facts or real evidence - as a policemans wife should - she knew, from her womans heart, what was going on, here. #Though Martin still denied it, Ellen knew. She felt she couldnt handle an affair or even the thought of one, so, once Martin was home and doing well, she decided to go stay with her sister, Erika, in Westchester, New York, until she could sort through her heart and her head what she should do about her married life. #And Martin let her go. He;d already hurt her enough. He denied any affair vehemently, but he knew, deep down, that she knew about it. He also knew that they had spent a lifetime together and neither one of them would ever throw that away over something as trivial as an affair - although having a child with the mistress was pretty bad, in itself. But he knew that Ellen would call him when she was ready to talk, to make demands...whatever it took to get them back together, which he was sure would happen, he would do. #But he would never leve Dawn. He wouldnt leave his child. He would just have to learn to be more careful about it all... #The choice was made for him when his daughter, Martina Dawn Brody was eight months old. Dawn left him after having enough of pleading with Martin to leave Ellen and his continued refusal to do so...and learning that Ellen was finally coming back to California to work things out with Martin - and he was going to be with her to do so. Dawn "went down hill" after that. She'd really loved Martin and realizing that it wasnt she who held his heart but his wife, sent her over the emotional edge. She lost her job a forest ranger and got herself hooked up with a guy of questionable background. Concerned for his baby daughters welfare, Martin did some digging and found that this guy that Dawn was now living with not only had been arrested on many drug charges spanning the previous ten years, but was also a registered sex offender...that, alone, scared the living hell out of him. #He sat Ellen down that evening and spilled his heart out to her. He finally admitted to the affair and the child, then told her what was happening. He pleaded, begged, bribed, conned and cried for five hours, praying that her motherly instincts would kick in and that she would help him to get his daughter, though illegitimate, from this dangerous situation and help him to raise her. She eventually gave in. #Elen never told Martin that she was secretly happy about it because she had always wanted a daughter, because she didnt like the idea of her husbands mistress having to provide it. But, once Ellen convinced herself that Dawn was nothing more than a cheap surrogate, the better she felt about the whole situation. Martin sat into motion one of the dirtiest, scandalous custody battles of all time, pulling in favors from friends who were high profile New York judges and police officials and even people who worked with Mayor Koch. Dawn never stood a chance with her inexperienced public defender. #So, life at the Brody house ended up peaceful and mostly serene...what wasnt worked out immediately, came in due time. #But there were times when Martin sat out on his back porch, staring out over the lake, thinking about Dawn and how he once felt for her. He couldnt forget her. Everytime he looked into his little girsl face, he saw her. Martina was the mirror image of her mother. Bu, he was lucky. He was always able to drink away the pain when it got just too bad to deal with, sober...unlike his best friend, who, no matter how much he drank, could not ever hide from the excrutiating heartbreak of losing his Maria. Martin was mystified over Quint. He'd had three wives and two lovers and God knew how many other women in his life, but something about Maria had managed to touch him in a place where no other woman could even find, much less touch. Quint didnt even know what that place was or where it was, or maybe he could tell another woman about it. Martin felt sorry for him, but knew there was nothing he could do to help his friend, so he always pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind before getting on with his own problems. He was thankful that Quints troubles werent his own, however. #################################################### Quints own daughter had her work cut out for her. She had been getting edgier as the weeks passed, afraid that her parents were'nt going to get back together, this time. Her dad had stopped coming around at all after her mother slammed the door in his face (Liz didnt blame him, though). He'd called a few times and, once, her mother had even invited him to dinner, but he never came. Something else came up. After he didnt come for diner, her mom got mad at him again and chewed him out on the phone and he never called again. #One day, Lizzie and her two 'old' friends, Kayla and Heather and a 'new' friend, Meaghan, stopped into the cafe for cokes and fries after school and inadvertantly found out why her dad wasn't coming around anymore...Liz saw her dad in a rear both with his arm around some lady, kissing her and laughing. Lizzie ran out of the cafe extremely upset. Quint never even knew she was there - until Kate told him. He jumped up and ran out, looking for her. He found her, crying and tried to comfort her. He tried explaining to her that, once her mom made it clear to him that she didnt want him anymore, he found this other lady who did. #Lizzie argued and cried, but Quint held his ground. He knew he hadnt done anything wrong and she was just going to have to accept how things were. But she stormed off away from him, leaving an extraordinarily painful emptiness in his heart. #But, determined Liz...when she got home, her face swollen and pink from crying and still sobbing, refused to tell her mother the truth about what was wrong with her and luckily enough, her mother assumed she was crying over some boy. She knew if she told her mother what really had happened, there would be a huge fight and it would end any chance that her parents would get back together. Lizzie knew that they had problems, but she refused to believe that they didnt belong together. She wanted them together and thats the way it was going to be. She had her fathers stubborness. #She called her brother Mike at his dorm at USC. She told him what was going on and that she wanted his help...and he was more than willing to give it. #The plan was for him to get dad out on the boat, sail down to the Farlon Islands and go sharking, giving Lizzie all day to "talk" to that "other woman". #The plan worked. After Liz was through with her guilt-trip, she had Sierra feeling so guilty for being with her father, that Sierra packed up her belongings and had called her older sister, Martie, in Miami and asked of she could stay with her for awhile. She left that day, before Quint got back from sharking with his son. She left Quint a letter telling him that she 'didnt feel it was right to stand in the way of a reconciliation of a family', with her boss, Frank McClaridge. #Quint was hurt. Almost to the point of devistation. Now he had no one. He didnt want to go crawling back to Elena. Elena had thrown him out and even slammed the dor in his face! She made her point clear! But, when he found out that his kids were the reason Sierra left, he was downright livid. He went to Elenas house and yelled at the kids...at Liz for having the nerve to butt into his life, at Mike for helping her as well as turning against him and even at Elena, accusing her of putting them up to it, calling her a 'selfish bitch' and insisting she was nothing more than vendictive...even though Elena had actually been in the dark about the entire matter. #Then he left Bodega Bay altogether, taking to his boat and sailing out and staying there. Being out on the ocean was the only place he really felt at home, anyway. #But, when christmas rolled around, dark, cold and bleak, he began missing his family more than ever. He suddenly felt so...alone. Sure. There were no constant reminders that he would have if he were on land...bright lights and tinsel everywhere, christmas carols being sung from every street corner nor anyone sappily greeting each other with 'merry christmas!' all the time, but just knowing it was christmas was bad enough. Thinking about how Lizzie would be arguing to be the one to put the star on the top of the tree even though it was her brothers turn, how Elena would give her the "christmas pickle" to hide (an old German custom passed down through the generations in Elenas family) instead, then how Mike would stick his tongue out at his sister to antangonize her because he got to put the star up, after all. This was stuff they should have outgrown years ago, but it was just as much a tradition, now, as the christmas pickle. #He wanted to find Sierra. He wanted to make things right by her, but she told no one where she was going and he certainly wasnt going to go ask Casey. She had told him, eventually, about her affair with Quint and the old fart damned near had a stroke. He found out about it two nights later when he walked into the bar and Pete Abernathy rushed him into a corner and strongly suggested that Quint leave quickly...that Casey had been in there several times over the previous two days looking for him with a gun. So Quint knew that there was nothing he could do to get SiSi back. He'd just have to wait and see if she would come back on her own...and pray that she would. After all...she would never slam a door in his face. #But, right now, he wanted...needed...to be with his family. He needed to be with people that he loved and felt comfortable with. He needed to feel good for a change. #He just didnt know if his family would take him back. #But, they did, when he came back bearing gifts, asking for forgiveness for the hurt he caused. They welcomed him home with open - and somewhat injured - arms. Elena took on her share of the blame, as well and Quint was just as understanding - and forgiving. ######################################################### One warm, fresh evening the following spring, the Quints and the Brodys got together once again for a barbeque. #As Ellen and Elena sat in the Quints kitchen comparing old marriage war stories and as Lizzie sat on the livingroom sofa with little Martina, reading her a story, the two old "war heroes" sat out on the front porch, sipping on nothing stronger than lemonade and just 'shooting the breeze'. #"Well, Brody", Quint sighed, "We may only have seventy-five percent now, but...thats okay, because I've learned something out of all of this...". #"Whats that?", Martin asked. #"That seventy-five percent is enough, after all...". #Martin nodded his head in agreement. #"I still feel that 'void', but I figure its less painful to learn to live with that void than to live without it". #Martin took another swallow of the lemonade, then pulled the glass back to look at it, making a face of disgust, "I wished I could learn to live with this...", he sat the glass on the railing in front of him. #"Bad...isnt it?", Quint stifled a laugh. #"Tastes like it was strained through a dog brush!", his face still crinkled in disgust, now sticking out his tongue in a gagging gesture. "Bleh!". #Quint let out the laugh he'd been holding back. #"Who made this stuff, anyway?!", Martin demanded to know. #"I did, uncle Martin!", Lizzie said, standing just outside the front door, only four feet from the guys, her hands on her hips in a defensive manner, "And my lemoade may taste bad, but I can gaurantee you that its a far sight better for you than that RAT poison that you and daddy buy from the STORE!!". At that, she turned and went back into the house, slamming the door behind her. #Quint flinched, then turned to Martin, grinning like a madman, "Damn, its good to be back home!". #The two friends shared a hearty laugh...both knowing, quite well, just how true that statement was. #####Yes. It was good to be back home. It may have only been seventy-five percent fulfilling, but it was exactly where Quint wanted to be. ##########################THE END############

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