The sheriff rocked her gently as she rested her head and shoulders against his broad chest. Large, tender hands enveloped her waist, then fondled her breasts which were bare beneath her sweater. The chill had finally lifted as John slowly massaged her body, so the trembling had lessened, but an occasional tear trickled down her cheek as she listed to the sounds around her. The nightingale's songs were fading; seagulls were taking up the refrain, almost in rhythm with the waves. And even nearer, a soothing baritone sang compassionately in her ears.
"'It's amazing how you knock me off my feet, '
Everytime you come around me I get weak,
'Nobody ever made me feel this way,
'You kiss my lips and then you take my breath away
'So I wanna know
'I wanna know what turns you on
'So I can be all that and more
'I'd like to know what makes you cry....'"
John paused, swallowing the lump in his throat, then continued, "'So I can be the one who always makes you smile.'"
It was their song. On the second evening of her initial visit to the CrowesNest, they had made it so. He had such fond memories of that: dinner; Tina trying to teach him how to dance, and 'I Wanna Know' by Joe was playing on the radio...They had made love for the first time, and if there had not been a connection between them before, there was one then....
"'Girl he never understood what you were worth,
'And he never took the time to make it work.
'Baby I'm the type of man to show concern, yes I do,
'Anyway that I can please you let me learn....'"
His singing voice was different from Russell Crowe's - it was much quieter, albeit strong, and there was only a hint of John's accent.
Fingertips massaged her waist and hips until a soft moan emanated from Tina's lips. John smiled bashfully, allowing one hand to drift further until the smooth curls between her thighs were within his reach. When she made no protest, he kneaded her soothingly, listening as she whimpered and moved slightly, an indication she desired him inside her. He kissed her behind the ear, continuing the massage.
"Do you really feel up to it, darlin'?"
"Hmm," she mumbled, lost both in his touch, and the sound of his singing. She felt more relaxed than she had for a couple of hours.
"Usually when you move like that, you want me inside you. I just...Well...are you sure you're up to that now?"
Tina smiled, touched by the Alaskan's thoughtfulness. "Just...keep doing what you're doing, love."
Nodding, John continued, letting his hand glide about her mound, but never entering her, listening to her tiny gasps of pleasure. Those sounds alone were enough to touch his heart. The song was right. He would do anything to please her, and he was still kicking himself for convincing her to come with him to see Hando. True, she felt regret at seeing another person near death, but they were still talking about a Russell Crowe incarnation who represented the epitome of hatred.
John shut his eyes, moving his stiff neck a bit as he remembered the details of Tina's nightmare. Little by little she had managed to tell it in graphic clarity, from the feel of the cotton plants, to the smells, tastes - and unfortunately the sights. The sheriff shuddered, recalling the last part of the dream. The idea of his Tina enslaved, about to be misused sexually and physically by Hando.... Biebe felt sick at the stomach. He had not even been able to save her. How in God's name had he allowed them to get...? John paused. None of it had been real. He was alive; Tina was safe, and Hando he assumed was healing under Syrena's gentle care. But Tina would never have had the damn dream, if he had not insisted....
/Shit Biebe, shit. You and your fucking ideas. You knew how she felt about Hando, but you kept on and on, and because she cares for you... Because she loves you, you damn fool, she agreed. Doesn't matter if she said she *did* feel sorry for him. You shouldn't have made her feel like her better instincts.... //
"John," a quiet, calm voice said.
"Yeah darlin'?" He realized she was lifting the hand lingering about her intimate area so as to hold it within her arm.
"You mustn't blame yourself, John."
Puzzlement tugged at his eyebrows. "Eh?"
"You're blaming yourself for my bad dream," she said more clearly, the sleepiness fading. "It wasn't your fault, love, it really wasn't."
Biebe held her tighter, kissing one side of her forehead. He didn't question how she knew. It wasn't mind reading. There had been a connection between them from the second they looked in one another's eyes, shaken hands, and felt the electricity pass between them. True, Maximus had been the initial reason she came, but John knew - as did Tina eventually - that his incarnation had brought her there as well. And kept her there -- and loved her, he considered, wanting to enter her body yet again. He listened as she sighed, feeling his manhood grow semi-hard against her backside. She shifted some, moving so that the sheriff groaned slightly in delight.
"I shouldn't have forced you," he said, trying to concentrate on the matter at hand.
"You didn't force me to do anything, Johnny. I wouldn't have gone if part of me hadn't *wanted* to check him out. I still don't trust him any further than I could throw him, but...I don't know...I'm tired of trying to read his mind, John. I just want to forget the whole freaking thing happened."
John nodded. "I'll do my best, darlin,'" which earned him a peck on the mouth as Tina cuddled against him. Both his hands now switched to a massage of her waist again, until they clasped above her stomach. Momentarily, he thought of the details of her dream, and his mind wandered a bit. /Wonder what she would feel like... Our baby growing right...// He let one finger trace the abdomen. She would never conceive by him in either the CrowesNest or the real world, that was an impossibility, but it was nice to think.... /Ah, quit dreaming, Biebe! Geez. After all this... You're *really* in a fantasy world now, pal.//
Listening, Michelle heard the creak of the steps as Colin descended the staircase. She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling, her bloodshot eyes stinging as the tears continued to flow down her cheeks. She ached to go after him, to call out to him - begging him to come back. Longing for him to come running up the stairs and wrap his arms around telling her it had all been just a horrible nightmare. But she knew it wasn't and she knew she couldn't call out, not after the way he had hurt her.
She noticed the sun filtering through the dark curtains, sending a trail of light across the bed. She closed her eyes, blocking out the offending brightness. What she wouldn't give for it to be night again. Daylight meant the arrival of a new day. Everyone would be going on with their lives and Michelle didn't know how she could go on with hers -- a life without Colin. A sob erupted from her throat as she thought of what her future held. She longed for darkness, seeing it as a welcoming blanket of comfort and security. She covered her eyes and willed the darkness to return.
After 3 hours, Bud had finally stopped pacing the grass. He stood slumped now against the tree, his eyes casting a sleepy gaze towards the second floor of the Tavern, where he was certain Michelle was resting. His whole body ached, muscles tight under his skin. His fists were bloody and raw from using the tree trunk as punching bag and his head pounded with each breath he took. He slid down to the ground, folding his legs against his chest as he sat himself on the cool grass. He held his head in his hands, rubbing at his eyes as he tried to close out the images that flashed themselves across the bed of his eyelids. Colin's angry face at the top of the stairs, Michelle's unconscious body laying on the hardwood floor, the look of shock on everyone's faces, the cold look in Tina's eyes as she chastised him.
And then suddenly there was Lynn. Bud blinked, his heart leaping in his chest as he gazed into her anguish-filled eyes. He could feel the cool rain on his skin and he could picture her look of apprehension as he approached her house. He was seething with pain and anger. He couldn't even recall what she had said to him to try and pacify him. He just remember the feeling of her face against his hand as he struck her. And the look in her eyes afterwards. Bud's stomach wretched and he shuddered, opening his eyes to stare at the front of the tavern, it's look un-welcoming in the early sunrise. He had loved Lynn deeply, only wanting to protect her and despite all his efforts and despite his reputation as a hard-edged cop who had a soft-spot for helping women, he had become what he had despised - his father.
And now it had all come around again. He hated himself -- for letting himself become drunk, for being foolish enough to try and step between Michelle and Colin, for being the catalyst that could have caused the death of of someone, an unthinkable thought here at the CrowesNest, and because he knew that everyone, especially Tina and John, was disappointed in what he had done. The hollow ache in his stomach grew and Bud knew he had to do something, he couldn't wait any longer. He had to talk to her... and to Colin too if he was with her. He pulled himself to his feet and stumbled awkwardly towards the Tavern's front steps, willing his legs forward.
Colin stepped out the main door, his head down and his eyes brimming with tears. Barreling forward he stumbled into Bud White as he was coming up the front steps.
"Sorry, mate..." Colin mumbled instinctively, offering only a fleeting glance as he continued down the stairs. Bud stopped at the top of the stairs, his eyes noticing Colin's defeated posture, the slumped shoulders, the sullen face, the tired step.
"O'Brien..." Bud called after him. Colin stopped, his head lifting slowly as he realized who he had just passed. He turned slowly and met Bud's gaze. They stared at each other for several long seconds as if gauging each other.
"How is she? Have you seen her?" Bud spoke finally, his voice low and tense.
Colin came to the top of the stairs, his eyes suddenly blazing. "That's none of your fucking business, White..." He hissed between clenched teeth. "You stay the hell away from her!" Colin's finger poked Bud's shoulder. Bud squared his shoulders as he took a step forward.
"I was just asking how she was doing."
"You bloody son of a bitch." Colin shook his head. He had been through enough tonight... facing Bud White was the last thing he needed.
"I think I have a right to know..." Bud lifted his chin slightly as he gave Colin a steady gaze.
"Right? You have no bloody right, mate!!" Colin lunged forward suddenly, grabbing Bud's shirt collar and tossing him back against the wall. Bud fought against him, but all energy had seeped from him in the last couple of hours and all he could do was match his grip. It seemed that neither of them had much strength as they stood face to face, breathing heavily.
Colin reached into his pocket and Bud flinched, his cop instincts kicking in. Colin shoved him back with one hand, "Hold up!! You see this?!" Colin produced a photograph, holding it up for Bud to see. "This was us... Michelle and me... Colin and Michelle. That's the way it was supposed to be. The two of us... happy... forever" Colin's grip on Bud's shirt loosened and Colin gazed at the photograph. "But not anymore...."
Bud's gaze moved from the photograph to Colin and back again. He saw the look of happiness and love in the worn picture and he recognized the look of loss on Colin's face. "It's going to be all right, Colin... just give it time. Maybe if I talked to her... apologize...
"NO!!" Colin looked at him, his eyes wide. "You stay away from Michelle." Bud felt the hairs on the back of his neck bristling as Colin pressed him against the wall. "And you want to apologize, you bloody bastard?" Colin's voice dropped to a low growl. "Do you actually think that by saying you are sorry that everything is going to be all right? Or are you hoping that she will fall for your advances again, White? That is will be like old times?!" His grip on Bud's shirt tightened once more.
"What happened in there, O'Brien? Huh?" Bud shoved back, his temper flaring. "Did she suddenly realize what a schmuck you were?!" Colin stumbled back, releasing Bud's shirt as he swung his fist at White's chin. Bud ducked out of the way, grabbing Colin's left arm and swinging him around and sliding him in a head lock with the arm tucked awkwardly against Colin's back.
Michelle breathed deeply, her heart tight in her chest. She wiped her face with her sleeve and blinked away more tears. Alone in the room, she heard male voices outside her window and her eyes grew wide as recognized them and the angry tone each of them held.
"Oh God no...please." She moaned, rolling over and forcing herself up on the edge of the bed, feeling her stomach protest as she stood on her feet. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath she willed herself towards the door.
"Fuck you, White!" Colin hissed through his teeth as a sharp pain shot up his twisted arm. Bud tightened his grip around Colin's neck, causing him to gasp as pressure was placed on his throat, threatening his ability to breath. Colin fought back with a solid elbow to Bud's ribs. With a growl, Bud released Colin spinning him around with a fist in the kidney. Colin fell against the porch railing in pain, the spasms in his gut overwhelming his senses.
"I don't know what she saw in you in the first place, O'Brien.... why she picked you over me...." Bud stepped forward, daggers in his eyes. "You've got no spine..." Colin lunged at him, fists swinging. Together they stumbled back into the Tavern, falling through the main doors and rolling to a stop at the bottom of the stairs.
"You're a bloody son of a bitch, White... You're dead..." Colin glared up at Bud, who had him pinned to the ground. A growl of a laughter, erupted deep from within Bud's chest.
"What are you going to do... kill me?" With a malicious grin, Bud tightened his grip on Colin's throat. Neither of them heard the gasp at the top of the stairs.
Tina stirred a bit, stretching languidly. "Mmm...what time is it?"
"Time...Time..." John glanced at his watch. "Uh let's see...Oh, six on the dot."
"Didn't realize we'd slept so long before...well before I...woke us up."
"A few hours actually." He started gently swaying her again, listening to her soft moans, the sounds turning him on almost as much as the feel of her curves.
"So, guess that's why...." She nodded at the scenery before them, and John concentrated, realizing, as had she that the first whitish-gold rays of sunlight were piercing the blackness. She sighed. "I love this time of morning. When I've taken cruises, this was the one thing that would drag me out of bed this early."
"Knew you weren't a morning person," the sheriff laughed, and then he quieted. "I have to take you further north of here sometime, up near the mountains. Let you see the Aurora Borealis CrowesNest style. We'll camp out under the stars...."
"I've never been camping. You know what I've told you about my ideas on camping."
"Yeah. You'll need your microwave, portable CD, VCR or DVD, a TV, a laptop." Tina laughed. "That's your idea of roughing it?"
"That's *my* idea of roughing it, yeah." John's deep chuckle caused her to smile as the sensation vibrated her body as she still reclined against him. "I'd love to go camping with you sometime."
"I'll teach you all the basics, darlin'. It'll be fun. We'll do it before it gets too cold up that way."
"But that could be even more fun if you think about it. Cuddling together in a tent in the middle of winter; keeping each other warm in a sleeping bag."
Biebe laughed bashfully. "That's *my* idea of camping all right,especially with just the right lady to cuddle with."
They spoke some more: of favorite dawns and sunsets; Tina's preferences for nighttime (always a night owl at heart); when they might actually go camping; the constantly changing colors in the eastern sky. Little by little her fears due to the dream faded, and all she could think was how perfectly content she was at this moment. She had never known anyone like John, a man who completed her so well, and she regretted everything that the Hando incident had brought about. How could she have doubted John's feelings for her after all these months?
Shifting a bit, she suddenly sat up. "Ow."
"What?"
"Cramp." She jumped up, shaking her left leg. "Geez, last thing I need is a Charley horse."
A glint in his eyes, Biebe mischievously asked, "Want me to massage it out darlin'?"
Tina smiled, but shook her head as she stomped her leg, attempting to work off the prickly sensation running down from her calf. "I'm okay. I need to stand up for a while anyway." She moved off the incline, lowering to the sand and walking several yards to where the waves were just barely kissing the beach, but it was enough to get her feet wet. It was a welcoming feeling, the ocean water tickling her skin and cooling it as well. Glancing back over her shoulder, she gave her companion a charming, inviting, but shy smile, a hint he immediately understood.
Biebe tugged his sweater on over his jeans, chuckling as he did. Sometimes he wished he'd had a body like Maximus', so tanned and rock hard, instead of being so pale, and with love handles, too. But Tina (and judging from some of the other women at the CrowesNest - Laura, Michelle, Syrena, Loria, Trisha, Kel, Karlee) never minded. He might be well-fed, but hardly fat, and his thighs, legs, chest and arms... Tina was constantly complimenting him on how strong they were, so powerfully built. This was how he had evolved - nothing he could really do about it, and honestly, he liked himself this way, enjoyed the subtle differences that made John Biebe so different from his 'brothers'.
He jumped down to the sand, eyes sparkling as he looked at Tina. She was wearing only her sweater, and she looked so alluring as she timidly gazed at him. The pinkish streaks on the horizon were nearly the same color as her cheeks. "Come here," he said huskily.
"You'll have to catch me first!" she laughingly replied, as she ran away from him. John sighed, laughed quietly and shook his head. She was in playful mode now, huh? Okay, if that's what she wanted. A split second later he was chasing after her, and then was ahead of her, blocking her path. Emitting a joking scream, Tina tried to avoid his block by zigzagging left, right, forward, then faking him out by running back the way she came. He caught up to her moments later, tackling her in a way she wouldn't be hurt. They both laughed as they landed in the sand, Tina playfully struggling as John picked her up with the greatest ease.
"You're not getting away *that* easily, Ms. Stewart," he said, carrying her back to their spot, while she good-naturedly hit his chest and squirmed her legs. She was laughing so hard, tears in her eyes, the sheriff thought she'd turn blue. When they reached the incline once more, he sat her on the high spot, then - after climbing up the short distance - pulled her to her feet so she was standing before him. Her laughter subsided as she placed her arms about his waist; felt him lean down to cover her face and collarbone with one kiss, then another, and another, the edges of his long hair sensually sweeping her flesh each time he moved.
Like all of Russell's incarnations, John Biebe was almost six-foot tall. Compared to her 5'2" there were times - like these - when she prayed for just a few extra inches. Right now she felt very small in his presence -- not intimidated, just small as she looked up at him, and he got the hint. Quickly looking about, he located a rise. He lifted her again, carried her several feet, then placed her on the spot so they were nearly at eye level.
Breathless, she could now place her arms easily around his neck, taking a moment to touch his beard, then his lips, right before she pressed her mouth against them. It was more an innocent kiss - slow, tender, as if they had all the time in the world, their obvious passion for one another evident as they pressed closer. John barely touched her to feel her nipples stiffen in anticipation. His hands drifted to her behind, massaging her bareness until she moaned into his mouth. Skillfully, gently moving, he discovered her mound yet again, but this time unlike earlier, he allowed one finger to tease her clit - an action that garnered another deep moan - then discovered how quickly she had grown wet for him. His ring finger sought her opening, and he slid it inside, his own breath increasing when he heard her groan, felt her twist a little, then toss back her head, her eyes seeing but unseeing. The Alaskan grinned. He was getting hard just watching and listening to her, but he knew - although his private organs were eagerly swelling - he could hold off a while.
"John," she moaned, her gasps growing short, and he probed deeper, teasing her.
"What...do you want...me...to do?" he impishly asked with an almost Sid-like smile.
She recognized that look and giggled, which was difficult with Biebe's finger changing moves according to her reactions. "You're bad...Don't ever...deny...you're all...brothers."
"Guess there's a little Sid in all of us, eh?" he joked, causing Tina to laugh. "Now...give darlin'. What...do you want...me...to do?"
Tina leaned to his right ear, whispering some suggestion. When she looked at him again, he seemed very delighted. Placing both hands behind her, John carefully lowered her to the ground, letting her relax - almost sitting - against the softness of the natural formation. Tina sighed as she got comfortable, while Biebe propped himself above her, almost in her lap. They kissed again, and then gazed at each other.
"You cold?" he inquired. She slowly shook her head, her eyes lost in his. "You shivered - that's why I asked."
She shook her head again, then caressed his face. Her voice was tentative, but containing a quiet passion. "Are you hungry?" She watched John's cheeks become crimson as he bashfully lowered his head, averting his eyes. "I know you're hungry." One hand on his shoulder, Tina felt him tremble. "Teddy Bear," she softly called, and he looked back at her, longing in his blue-green eyes. She could even detect those hazel specks in the quickly changing light. "Time for breakfast. It's been hours since you've eaten. I don't want my Teddy Bear hungry."
John nervously whispered, "Sunny," but then his hesitancy vanished. He kissed her, and pushed the sweater upward towards her waist. Parting her thighs, the air fragrant with her, he dropped down between her. Tina's body relaxed, one arm above her head, and her remaining hand stroked her companion's thick auburn hair. She smiled blissfully, tears wetting her cheeks, and she swallowed hard, savoring the feel of John's tongue in her nether regions. Could he ever understand how much he meant to her?
********
John glanced at his watch a while later. Seven-fifteen. Okay, he laughed to himself, so they didn't get much sleep last night. They had a lot of making up to do. She had been away from the CrowesNest for two weeks, and /Face it, John. We were both horny. I don't know who's more insatiable, her or me. Probably a close tie. But hell - at least I've been married; I know what it's like. Tina's had no one; no one who cared. She's told me how lonely she was before she found this place - and me// He sighed. "Beautiful morning, isn't it darlin'."
"Perfect. We've got to do this more often."
"Absolutely sweetheart. Nothing like dawns at the CrowesNest."
Tina cuddled in his lap, intently watching the last of the pinks; reds and yellows splash themselves against the rapidly dissipating dark. Biebe's eyes drooped a little. Guess they would take a nice long nap later. Hell, they hardly slept anyway when she visited, and when she left, he couldn't sleep for missing her. Sometimes he was more tightly wound than the day they played the Rangers, he ached so badly for her.
He remembered those long weeks when he first came to the CrowesNest. It had been a difficult adjustment: he missed Donna, his sons, his whole life which was wrenched from him because -- /Because I'm a character in a movie, and didn't know it until I came here//. He didn't remove his wedding band until New Year's Eve 1999 (a couple of months after his arrival), a way to start things fresh. He had not remained celibate either - there were a few ladies who were quite attracted to the Alaskan. But none of them awakened his heart and soul as Tina had that night Bud introduced them. He still was unsure why except that she filled a void in him, as he had for her. For the first time in a long while, John Biebe felt that his life had purpose again.
"Sweetheart," he cautiously began. "Sweetheart...there's been something I've been meaning to tell you for the longest. We've known each other since what? May? I don't know why the hell I haven't before, but now's as good a time as any. And when I think how close I came to almost losing you last night because of...." He paused, then finally managed, "I love you, Tina. I loved you the moment I laid eyes on you, darlin'. I don't even think... I don't know. I don't think I even felt like this in Mystery and I loved.... Well...I never want to lose you, darlin'. I - I love you Tina."
Was she dumbfounded by his pronouncements? She hadn't moved or spoken. Puzzled, John looked at her. "Tina?" Still no answer. "Tina?" He looked closer at her face. Her eyes were shut, and he sighed, running a hand over his beard as he shook his head. That figured. Well, a few quiet moments had passed since they had spoken about the dawn. No wonder she'd fallen asleep. All right, this could wait until both of them rested. She was going to stay at the CrowesNest about a week. Maybe he could even do something special for her before he gave her his happy news.
Kissing her forehead, caressing her, John softly sang:
"'I wanna know what turns you on,'
'So I can be all that and more....'"
Michelle jumped when the two men came barreling through the front doors of the Tavern. Her heart pounding in her chest, she watched in horror as they tumbled to the ground, their hands at each other's throats. She gasped as Bud's hands tightened around Colin's throat. She saw Colin's eyes narrow and then widen as he fought for breath. She could not believe that they were at it once again. She had thought that both of them would have had it out of their system by now. Leaning against the railing, Michelle attempted to scream at them, but her voice caught in her throat and over their fighting her quiet pleas went unheard.
Colin rolled, throwing Bud off his chest, but their grip on each other still held and they fought relentlessly. Michelle watched them, her body shaking as she tried to think of what to do. Her knees felt weak beneath her and she gripped the railing for support. Pushing away any thoughts of attempting to climb down the stairs after them, Michelle glanced around for something to get their attention with. If she had been wearing shoes, she would have tossed one of them down the stairs. Although just the thought of having to bend over to take them off caused her stomach to tighten.
Her eyes fell to one of the framed pictures on the wall and she pulled one off it's hook. Closing her eyes and fighting back more tears, she flung it down the stairs without looking.
The picture shattered as it hit the hardwood floor, the glass spraying everywhere. Colin and Bud flinched, looking up with startled faces to see what had interrupted them.
"What the fuck?" His hands still around Colin's neck, Bud glanced over at the broken picture frame.
"Oh shit...." Colin stared up from the floor, looking over Bud's shoulder to the top of the stairs. Bud turned his head and instantly his grip loosened. Colin pushed him off and they both stood quickly, brushing off their clothes, neither of them daring to look up at her again. Michelle watched them stammer and fumble over themselves and she felt her heart breaking for the umpteenth time that night.
Bud braved a quick glance and winced when he saw her tear-strained face and bloodshot eyes. "Michelle... it was nothing... we were just..." Michelle reached for another picture, wrenching it off the wall and throwing it down the stairs. It landed at their feet, forcing them to jump back as the glass shattered around them. They looked up at her, eyes wide.
"Do you think I'm stupid, White?!" Michelle yelled as loud as her sore throat and lungs would allow. Colin stood silent, his gaze falling to the floor, his face flushing red as she spoke.
"Chelle... please..." Bud raised a hand in peace. Michelle glared at him and reached for another picture.
"You want this one too, Bud?! Huh?" She held it like a frisbee, ready to throw it at a moment's notice. "I'll aim a bit higher this time, maybe it will knock some sense into you two...."
Bud took a step back, pulling Colin with him. "Chelle! Don't... C'mon now. Let's talk about this..." She let the picture fly and Bud ducked as it when sailing over his head, smashing against the wall behind them. Michelle turned and limped back down the hall.
"There is nothing to talk about... it's over." Michelle mumbled between fresh sobs. She returned to the bedroom, slamming the door behind her.
Hands stuffed in his pockets, Colin stared at the floor, flinching as if Michelle had slammed the bedroom door directly in his face. Both he and Bud stood in silence -- the desire to continue fighting wiped out of them by the single look of disgust on Michelle's face and yet neither of them seemed to know what to do next.
Michelle leaned back against the door, her anger and frustration quickly fading away under an overwhelming feeling of hopelessness and loss. The morning sun in the curtained window made her feel ill. She longed for the darkness of night -- pitch darkness and the sleep that came with it, the comfort and warmth of its soothing embrace. But even more than that she wanted the feeling of nothingness that came with it. The physical and emotional anguish she had experienced had melded together into a heartbreaking and gut-wrenching ache, and Michelle felt like she was splitting in two and she just wanted it to all go away.
She stumbled her way over to the bed and buried herself in the fluffy duvet cover, pulling it high over her shoulders and hiding her head under the pillow to block out the offending sunlight. Let them kill each other, she thought, what do I care? But that was the trouble, she did care... Despite her anger, she wanted it all to be over and she wanted Colin next to her. She wanted to soothe away his guilt and his sadness. And, more than anything, she wanted him there to hold her and kiss away the tears that stung her cheeks. And yet, she was lying here alone. She had been the one to kick him out, rejecting his blubbering apologies in anger. Michelle rolled onto her back, holding the pillow to her face, her whole body shaking as she sobbed into its softness.
Bud slouched down on the stairs, his head in his hands. "Colin..." His whisper reverberated throughout the Tavern.
"Don't White..." Colin lifted his hands out of his pockets, raising them in front of him in a surrendering gesture. "I've got to get out of here for a while." He ran a hand through his hair, giving a weary sigh. He felt like he'd been hit by a Mack truck, and the thought of another fight made him even more exhausted. He turned towards the door, his shoulders drooping even more than before.
"O'Brien?" Bud's voice was firm, but soft. Colin looked back, his eyes meeting Bud's and for the first time in the last 6 hours, there wasn't a hint of anger between them. "Man, I'm..." Bud hesitated and glanced away. "I'm...." He shook his head. "I know it's 'Chelle that I should be saying this to, but... and I will, when I get a chance... when things...." Bud stood up and awkwardly stepped forward. "... later." His face reddened as he fumbled over his words. "Shit, Colin... if.... I never thought... all this would happen."
Colin looked away, sighing heavily. "Yeah..." He bit his lower lip as he spoke. "Well, I'm sorry too, Bud... But that doesn't seem to be changing anything at the moment." A soft smile crossed his face, but quickly disappeared as he kneeled and picked up the crumpled old photograph at his feet. He unfolded it and gazed at the couple that smiled back at him -- mocking him now. He let it fall from his fingers back to the floor. He walked out the door without looking back.
Bud watched him go before retrieving the photograph and slipping it into his jacket pocket. With deep concentration, he set about cleaning the shattered glass that littered the floor around him, thankful that he had a menial task to take his mind off the unpleasant day that lay before him.
