Caroline was standing in the changing lockers, her
shirt already half-way off to reveal an all white one piece bathing
suit. Gemma
almost snickered in the irony of her mock "purity" suit. I mean,
Gemma giggled, how pure does she get? The lockers smelled heavily of
chlorine
and wet towels, but it was better than leaving their clothes in heaping
puddles
on the floor, so Gemma packed up her pride and stuffed her jeans and
sweater
into the nearest locker, wrinkling her nose. Caroline did the same, her
face
contorted in dislike. After they had gotten themselves wrapped in their
towels
and had finished complimenting the other on their swimsuits, they
walked out
into the frigid air to get into the pool. Gemma's jungle green suit was
a two
piece, a tank top with stringy ties in the back, revealing her navel
and most
of her back in all its tanned glory. As Gemma walked out onto the pool
deck,
she suddenly felt like she couldn't have been wearing any less.
There were their guys, sitting in the hot water
already, shallow end, faces knit up in mild pain as the hot water
reddened
their skin. Caroline draped her towel over the edge of a small deck
chair
before joining them, leaving Gemma alone on the side of the pool,
wrapped tight
in her cotton towel, shivering slightly with the cold. Amir was sitting
cross
legged in the shallowest part of the pool, his glasses gone leaving him
almost
unrecognizable, but Mike was of more concern to Gemma at that point. He
was
standing knee-deep in the water, shoulders pulled back as Rich splashed
him,
his back twisted away from the heat. He scrambled to the side and
pulled
himself out of the water, rubbing his shoulder furiously, a small smile
on his
face nonetheless.
"You coming in?" Amir asked jauntily,
squinting to see better.
Gemma let her towel drop, the cold air washing over
her like some sort of paranormal experience. She shivered but held her
shoulders back as the towel around her body dropped to the ground in a
defiant
sort of way, letting anyone within seeing distance have a fair gander
at her.
Panic! Mike shook his head briskly, a few drops of
warm water flying off in all directions before he looked again at the
nearly
naked girl before him. Was it just him or was the air in the open range
suddenly stuffy? He gulped a few times, looking her over. Volleyball
had done
wonders for her legs, toning them, tanning them in the constant use and
time in
the sun. She had a very slim appearance, only moving when she breathed,
and
that was hardly accountable for. The thin straps covering her proud
shoulders
were so skimpy, and tied to the rest of the suit, that Mike almost
thought they
were painted on. She took a deep breath before turning to see what Mike
had
done to busy himself. He was staring at her, jaw flapping slightly in
the cold
wind, his shoulders covered with tiny beads of water.
Holy mother of God! Mike wasn't just standing there
in your run-of-the-mill way, he was looking her over in an open-jawed
way that
could only be mimicked on Gemma's part. Shirtless? Good. Wet? Very
good.
Staring at her in a begging way? Christ, why doesn't she just throw
herself at
him? He was wearing what he wasn't wearing well, and he was usually
adorable
just sitting in a school-boy manner, almost always behaving himself,
almost
always innocent. Fully clothed...good thing he wasn't fully clothed
now.
They looked at each other for a moment before Gemma
felt a foreboding teasing rise up; she kicked him lightly in the shin.
She smirked. "Cat got your tongue?"
He snapped his mouth shut and tried to fight the
blush coming to his face, the only word he could come up with being,
"Gah,
er-"
"Oooh!" Rich howled, Caroline sitting
pretty on his lap in the water, her cheeks red from the cold, her hair
not yet
wet.
Mike turned to Gemma, and in a confidential tone,
said, "Wonderful, just wonderful."
"You better not be complimenting me," she
warned, shaking a finger in embarrassment.
He nodded, stepping away to preserve his shins.
"Unfortunately I am; what am I supposed to do?"
"You-"
"Don't answer that," he retorted, eyes
smiling in a way his face couldn't. Gemma's eyes lit up mischievously,
and she
strode toward him, causing him to back up toward the deep end of the
pool
quickly, though he did pause before he could fall in. She stood, her
face
inches from his, in a teasing way. Pecking him on the cheek lightly,
she gave
his shoulders a gentle push, laughing as his arms windmilled and he
toppled
backward into the water. Instead of rising the surface a sputtering
mess, he
somewhat launched out of the water and grabbed Gemma's arm. Yanking her
in
after him with a war cry, Gemma fell in and shrieked with the warmth of
the
water. Her skin tingled in the sudden contact, but there was a cool
body behind
hers as she surfaced, shaking bangs and water out of her face with a
cough.
"Oh! I'm going to kill you!" She splashed
him.
Reaching out clumsily, trying to tread water at the
same time, he dunked her, not expecting her to swim around him in a
flurry and
appear next to the side of the pool, a vengeance in her eyes. As he
swam up
behind her to see what it was she was doing, she planted her feet on
the side
of the pool and shoved off, hitting him square in the chest, relishing
at the
"oof!" that she heard and screaming bloody murder as his hands
immediately retaliated with a harsh pinch in her sides. It was lucky
she made
it to the side before he did so, or she might have drowned, but as she
snaked
along the side of the pool to Rich and Amir, she did manage to get
water in her
nose and hair in her face. She stood up and shook her head like a dog,
feeling
her hair fly all over, most likely showering all in the close
proximity. When
she was done she dunked herself backwards to wash her hair out of her
face,
smiling as she resurfaced, her episode of canine antics done.
Amir shook his head slowly. "Too bad we don't
have a Jacuzzi, I'd love to see that."
Rich smiled wickedly. "Oh, they do."
All three of the other faces twisted up in a sort of
face that proclaimed, "I didn't need to know that."
"Yeah, when we get cold we could go hang out in
the Jacuzzi." Amir sounded strangely mechanic suddenly. Caroline
reappeared from wherever she had been, a plastic bottle of water in her
hand.
Gemma grew bored with the trivial babble that ensued
and began to swim rushed laps in a freestyle swim routine. She bobbed
up and
down, loving the feeling of weightlessness that came with swimming.
When she
grew bored with the laps, she floated on her back in the middle of the
large
rectangular pool, feeling the occasional wave pass over her legs as the
others
moved or splashed each other. A rather vicious game of Marco Polo was
started
by none other than Michael no more than ten minutes later, roping Gemma
into it
by pulling her under from below the surface, a very tricky maneuver. He
had
fled for his very life, swimming like he had never swum before, and
barely
escaping her wrath as he threw himself into a snowbank to cool off and
let the
steam roll off him. Minutes later she had been stalking him only in the
pool as
they joined in on a game with a new group of kids, these kids ranging
from
seven to fourteen years of age.
One little girl by the name of Genevieve was there
with her parents, a tired looking couple with four kids, only one of
which was
a girl, and she was the youngest at seven years old. Gemma had taken it
upon
herself to keep an eye on Genevieve to make sure that she didn't get
bullied by
one of her three brothers, especially the eldest, an eleven year old,
Nick. He
was fierce looking, and had pushed her into the deep side of the pool
twice
with Mike there to catch her with a disapproving look to Nick both
times. With
these seven new kids to their five, they immediately became engaged in
a rough
game of Marco Polo, pegging out one person to catch, and only them most
of the
time. Nick's little brother Keith proved to be an agile swimmer, and
was like a
minnow to the adults. They tried to catch him but he seemed to wriggle
out
between their fingers every single time. Gemma caught Rich and Caroline
staring
at Mike as he once again swam to the side of the pool to retrieve
Genevieve
from Nick's bullying, almost scowling as he hauled her to Gemma's side
of the
pool, leaving the child in her arms as if it were her own.
Finally, nearly an hour of rejuvenating child's play
later, Gemma had asked if Caroline and the others would continue their
offer of
the Jacuzzi, though it was agreed that if a sauna was found, it would
be much
better than stewing in more water. So Gemma had offered to go find the
sauna,
which was promised on a small directory inside the indoor pool area,
but Rich, Caroline,
and Amir had insisted that Gemma and Mike find it and they'd be along
shortly.
Not seeing whatever it was they were planning, the two walked off
together,
talking pleasantly about the time with the children, comparing them to
cousins,
nieces, nephews, anything meritable.
"I almost told off that Nick kid, if only his
parents hadn't been there!" Mike whined, making a strangling gesture
with
his hands.
Gemma wrinkled her nose. "I agree, why the hell
was he trying to slaughter his little sister like that? She was such an
angel!"
Mike shrugged and shook his head before stopping
before a heavy cedar door. Looking back to the long empty hallway, they
knew
that the others wouldn't have a hard time finding the rather obvious
doorway.
They crept inside the hot, damp room and immediately sank into somewhat
of a
stupor induced by the hot and heavy air. Gemma felt her skin prickle
again,
only in a sleepy way, relaying to her mind that it was time to rest up
and
enjoy the heaviness that pulled on her very bones. It was heaven and
hell at
once, the heaven being the rest she wanted, the hell of having only
wooden
slats to rest on. As if deciding something, Mike cast his towel into
the
corner, sitting carefully on the scalding hot wooden bench behind him.
There
was a light hissing but it soon stopped and his eyes closed in an
ecstasy of
warmth and rest. Gemma followed suit and shed her second skin, curling
up into
a small ball next to Mike, her knees resting under her chin, arms
wrapped
around her legs to keep them from falling off the bench in her sleepy
state.
"Sleeeepy," she crooned softly, picking her
head up out of her arms to look at Mike. His eyes were open, but just
barely.
He turned to her, smiling weakly, a tiredness emanating from him. It
was a few
moments before Gemma groaned and tried to move, only managing to slip
her legs
out of her grasp and take a bottle of water from her towel where she
had stored
it. She gulped some of the water to restore her hydration, and offered
some to
Michael, who gratefully took the bottle and took a few gulps before
tossing it
back to the towel. The awkwardness that followed was strange but
normal. They
both sort of resumed staring where they had left off outside, but this
time
they were alone and in a dark room with no possibilities. Gemma
retrieved her
towel and wrapped it around her shoulders to mop off some of the water,
but
remained too lazy to remove it. Mike shifted a few inches to his right
so he
was leaning against the wall of the sauna, hot cedar pressing on his
skin
lightly. His towel was at his feet, so he grunted and picked it up,
following
suit like Gemma was, enjoying the satisfaction of having moved, but
loving more
that he could stop. Gemma stood up and wrung out her hair onto the
coals across
the room, grinning in an impish way as a loud angry hiss emitted into
the room,
startling the near sleeping man in the corner. The heat wasn't becoming
an
issue anymore, it was the issue of wanting to feel warm and safe on the
inside.
Gemma could tell even from across the room that no
sauna or furnace would replicate the strange warmth that seemed to fill
a
person out like a hot coal dropping into one's stomach. The only time
Gemma had
ever felt that had been when her song had ended on the record so many
days ago
and she had realized she was wrapped up tight in Mike's comforting
embrace, on
his lap and so very shaken. She sighed in memory of the startling
discovery
only to realize that it had been what she needed since she'd lost
Jonas. Mike
was looking at her. She was looking at him. Crossing the room quickly,
Gemma
slipped up onto Mike's lap and wrapped her arms around his shoulders,
letting
out a quick sigh. Mike smiled slowly before allowing his own arms to
jump up
around her shoulders. With a small amount of rearranging his legs were
thrown
out over the cedar bench, his back to the wall, Gemma in his lap and on
the
wood itself, half-asleep with giddy warmth and security. Nothing could
hurt her
there, she was sure, and Mike grimly told himself he'd never let
anything
happen to her. Not like he'd let Helen die, never again. The kiss was
welcome
to Gemma, though it had surprised her to feel her mouth being abducted
from her
half-awake state. With a small squeak she had allowed herself to float
into a
sort of steam cloud where she could only sigh and refuse to move the
towel from
her shoulders even in the immense heat.
After the kiss ended, Gemma was left with not an
empty feeling of teased desires, but a sort of satisfaction in what she
received; it made her wonder if what she had had with Jonas had been
real or
what she thought was real. Maybe she had just been a stupid kid. Her
parents
had always said she was happy when she got anything, even if it was the
bare
minimum of what kids needed to be happy. Birthdays when money was tight
could
be fixed with hand-made cards from brothers and sister, and a few more
hugs
than usual. But now was something different. She could have pushed Mike
right
off whatever cliff he clung to, it wasn't like she knew it but there
was some
part of her that was very cautious around him. Something about him made
her
care a bit more than normal about him. Even with Jonas she'd taken what
she
wanted when the situation came about. If he put himself into the
situation
willingly, she took what was rightfully hers, be that money or physical
affection. Now it was like taking what he wanted to give and giving
back all
that she wanted to. The scale wasn't unbalanced either, which opened
Gemma's
eyes to see she wasn't as selfless as people thought. She was demanding
in that
stereo-typical feminine way, demanding love and affection from all
those that
have offered.
Mike was a different story. He kept telling himself
that he could do anything he wanted now, he kept telling himself he
wasn't tied
to anything, but a sort of worry leapt up in him that she'd pull away
before he
and sort of give him that look that said that she just couldn't do
anything
yet. He cared enough not to push her in any way, but certain things he
did and
certain things he said would give him away. Even his heart betrayed his
body
like some cultish freak teaming with his throat. They boycotted
whatever it was
his mind and body decided, heart pounding to reveal his true feelings,
face
letting all the extra blood to be shown out in public, and his throat
tended to
tighten right up when nervous or excited. Now was one of those times he
was
grateful he and Gemma could go hours on end without talking.
A cool breeze wafted over the two, but they only
squirmed in mild discomfort before the heat restored; they did not
bother
themselves in finding out who had chanced upon them.
"What are they doing?" Came a small child's
voice.
"Sleeping, I think. Maybe they was kissing
though," another replied.
"Why would you say that?" An older, amused
voice asked.
There was a slight pause before, "She's on his
lap and he ain't no Santa Claus,"
Gemma snorted loudly, pulling her head with a great
effort off Mike's chest to peer at the three strangers. There were
actually
four, and one was little Genevieve, standing with her mother and two
brothers,
her eyes wide in wonder.
She smiled. "Gemma!"
With another great exertion of her tired muscles,
Gemma lifted a hand as if saying, "WHOO!"
Mike made an indignant noise, arm lifting up to make
Gemma's arms disappear again behind his back with a soft smack. She
nuzzled her
face back down onto his soft skin and felt the familiar grips of
nothingness
flood her mind. When she opened her eyes again with another cold draft
of air,
there was no small cute family of four in the sauna with she and
Michael, it
was Amir, glasses and all, with Rich and Caroline, exchanging bemused
looks.
Instead of forcing this revelation onto Gemma, Caroline simply made a
face at
Gemma to make her point that yes, Gemma could sit on the bloody man's
lap and
get away with it. Rich leaned forward to look at Mike, whose eyes were
shut in
silent rest, though he was very much awake. His eyes flicked open.
"Having fun?" Rich snickered.
Gemma shifted herself from her side in between Mike's
legs to her feet, springing up and over Mike's lap to land on the hot
cedar
slats. Mike rubbed his face without answering Rich and continued to sit
on the
bench without even acknowledging anyone's presence except Gemma's, and
that was
nothing more than a small smile aimed at her.
With a heavy yawn, Gemma wrapped her towel around her
and started out the sauna door. Mike was up behind her in seconds, both
ignoring the three Americans whole-heartedly. They walked to the
changing
lockers and changed back into their clothes, Caroline making small
faces and
smiles at Gemma all the while, as if applauding her. Gemma could only
snort in
annoyance and eagerly await her turn to walk out the freezing cold room
and see
Mike again, so cute when he was sleepy. Sure enough, he was sitting on
a small
iron bench in the hall, Joe standing next to him talking with him quite
animatedly, though he didn't seem all that interested. In the cold
Gemma's
ankle began to ache, and when it popped she had pulled a face and began
to limp
suddenly, grimacing as her fussy ankle started to bitch and moan. She
smacked
it once to straighten it up, but it refused to be taken back into line
and
irked her more. It was a magic button to Mike; he jumped to his feet,
hastily
finishing his conversation with Joe and walking to Gemma's side with an
accusing glance at Caroline.
"What happened?" He sounded tired for
Pete's sake!
Gemma yawned and shrugged pitifully. "Trick
ankle, it's just acting up; don't worry about it."
It was still hell going from the warmth of the pool
to the freezing changing lockers to the equally as cold lobby, but the
straw
that broke the camel's back had to be walking outside into the twelve
degree
weather. Her ankle gave out in the most dramatic way, having her
stumble to her
knees in the snowbank, laughing at herself through the pain. Amir
helped her to
her feet, but it was Mike who once again lifted her off her feet and
carried
her the five minute walk back to their house. The rest of the day,
spent with
both closed ski runs and aching joints, was filled with men waiting
hand and
foot on both girls. Gemma accused Caroline of milking some of Gemma's
benefits
at her injury, but Caroline had just shrugged and made a pouty face
when Rich
returned with a mug of tea for her. He kissed her on the cheek and
exited, only
to sit down within shouting range of his fair lady.
Looking both ways, Gemma lurched to her feet and
limped to the kitchen to drop off her empty mug, but was quickly chased
back
into the living area by an almost rabid Mike. He shook his fist at her
as she
dived over the back of the sofa and landed lightly on the seat of it,
curling
up into a tight ball.
He scowled. "You just can't let me do anything
nice for you!"
She stuck her tongue out at him, smiling playfully.
That night was almost completely uneventful, unless
they counted going up to the restaurant to eat and make fools of
themselves on
stage with the live karaoke bar. Lots of drunk couples were getting up
together
and singing such songs as "She Loves You" and "Piece of My
Heart." Gemma was no exception, and after convincing Michael she didn't
need him to carry her to the stage, she limped up and sang a rendition
of
"A Day In the Life" that made her sound curiously like John Lennon
himself, which only prompted her to do "Lovely Rita" just because.
Mostly because she wanted to do a song by both, but also because it was
the
first time she'd found that song fit for playing in a bar. Only Joe
would find
it, and she knew it. The song itself was on the corny side, slightly
ridiculous
and highly unbelievable. Even she had a skeptical look on her face as
she sang
the lines, "Lovely Rita meter maid, nothing can come between us, when
it
gets dark I tow your heart awaaaay!" Mike had almost forced himself to
get
up on stage to sing "When I'm Sixty-Four," but the moment seemed far
too friendly for him to go up there and expose himself to the entire
skiing
community at that point. He settled himself down and waited for her to
return,
limp and all, smiling broadly at her as she sat next to him, fingers
lacing
into his gently.
It was just like a date too, when they returned Amir
and the Rich had exited straight for bed, Caroline only pausing to put
her coat
on a hanger in the entryway closet before walking up the steps after
Rich, her
face showing all the things that Amir needed to know. He seemed
relieved they
were both absolutely wiped, so he sort of fell into bed too. Mike
walked Gemma
all the five feet to her door and held onto her hand like he was going
to have
to drive away in the end anyway.
"You are having fun, right?" She asked him
as he smiled at her, looking her face up and down quickly.
He nodded furiously. "Absolutely! I don't think
I couldn't have a great time, Gemma!"
She grinned at him. "I'm glad,"
Mike smiled at her again, his face not cooperating
with his tiredness very readily. Gemma unexpectedly leaned forward just
to rest
her forehead on his, her arms wrapped around his neck in a sleepy
manner. No
music was playing, but it was like magic as they both began to sway
back and
forth, smiling in their own silliness. Their feet were sluggish and
their minds
sleepy, but both conceded to the dancing, much appreciated by both. The
door
open, Mike lead her through the door with a clever box step, turning a
tricky
maneuver even trickier as he dipped her onto her twin bed, laughing
softly as
she went limp onto the sheets, her eyes barely open anymore.
He sat on the side of the bed for a moment to rest,
leaning forward to place a kiss on her forehead, but his hand had
floated over
to her other side, leaving him in the perfect position to just lie down
right
over her, and he was tired enough to do it. If only he had the energy
to lift
his legs onto the bed... All rational thought gone, he pecked her cheek
and struggled
to his feet, muttering a very unintelligible goodnight to his fair lady
before
stalking off to fall asleep, in his clothes, in an almost coma-like
sleep.
That would have been the end of the week really, if
the events of the day following had not drastically changed things.
Five o' clock was rolling around, and the fifth day
was coming to an end, almost making Gemma feel an odd sense of
depression rise
up in her, but the disaster was that of the worst kind. Having her room
just
next to the bathroom proved to be a nuisance late at night, but it
proved to be
worse when a frozen pipe that had been turned off was involuntarily
switched
on, and flooded both the bathroom and Gemma's room through a small
crack under
her closet door that fed through her closet into the bathroom. She woke
up with
sopping wet carpet and even her bedsheets had soaked up some of the
water. Joe
had hired some help and had the pipe fixed, but her room would not be
fit to
sleep in before she left. So, heading to the living area to sleep that
night
she was surprised to find Caroline still there at midnight.
"What are you doing here, Caroline?" Gemma
asked, sitting down on the loveseat across from Caroline. The woman
sniffed
discreetly, covering her face with a tissue. She waved her hand to show
it was
nothing but continued to sniff and mop at her face.
Gemma squirmed. "Did you and Rich get in another
fight?"
Caroline nodded, her face screwing up into a tight
ball of agony. "He said he doesn't want to get married anymore!"
"Aww, he doesn't mean it, you know that! He's
just worked-up, a little angry. Let him cool off and be nice to him
tomorrow." She consoled. Caroline shrugged and gestured at the open
living
area, the wide cool air filled with stony silence. "I'm here until
then."
Gemma nodded and sort of floated back upstairs,
utterly at a loss at what to do. Placing her foot on the carpet of her
room,
she cringed to feel water seep up into her pajama pants and soak her
foot, even
with the fans blowing on it and the ceiling fan on. The loveseat
downstairs was
not an option; it was tiny and lumpy, not suitable for Gemma at all.
Just as
she was considering stripping her mattress from her bed and dragging it
into
the hallway, but she noticed that Mike's door was open and his light
was on.
She cursed mentally as his light turned off as she neared the door,
though
there was a sort of panic now. If she had intended to say anything, it
was lost
now that he was about to hunker down for sleep.
Still, sleep deprivation and a certain level of
fearlessness roused Gemma's determination, and she pushed open his door
and
sauntered in, trying not to smile as his shadowy figure slid up to a
sitting
position with a wide-eyed expression. Before he couldn't even ask her
what she
was doing, Gemma slid onto the corner of his bed and kissed him, loving
the way
he abandoned his inquisitive nature and just let her do what she was
doing.
Finally she decided he needed to know her ulterior
motives and pulled apart. "Can I stay with you tonight? Caroline's got
the
couch; she and Rich are in a row."
Slightly taken back by this question, Mike only
stared. Why was he over-reacting? She just needed to sleep, right?
Nothing more
would happen, right? He nodded dumbly. "Yeah, I suppose. Do you want me
to
sleep on the floor, or-?"
She shook her head slowly, wondering if the option
she was asking for wasn't possible for him. "Well, I was hoping no one
would have to sleep on the floor, or I wouldn't have bothered, I'd be
in the
hall already." She smiled weakly.
Shyly he kissed her cheek and scooted himself over,
suddenly aware that his jeans were on a heap on the floor, his shirt
rumpled on
the floor. He squirmed, wanting to pick up suddenly, wanting to show
her he could
take care of himself when the need be. She swatted him lightly and sat
nervously on the edge of the bed, wondering just how to navigate her
way under
the covers. Finally deciding that the worst that would happen was
nothing at
all, she slipped under the cool cotton sheets and tried not to feel
awkward. In
truth she felt nervous and a bit worried that Mike was going to move
further
away, not realizing he was fretting the same thing. With an exasperated
sigh,
Gemma threw her feet towards Mike and giggled when he hissed and tried
to poke
her back. When he had wrangled her arms and legs down with his own, he
couldn't
help but kiss her, glad she had initiated whatever it was that had lead
them to
that point.
The best part was the fact it was nighttime and she
was in his room, in his bed, nowhere to go. Nothing on the stove. She
was all
his for as long as they wanted to do whatever they decided to do. It
was like
some sort of planned event. They kissed and hugged, words passing
between them
like nothing at all.
"Stop poking-"
"No,"
"Pleeease-"
"Gemma, shut up-"
"You shut up!"
"Oh, so you'll poke me right back, eh?"
"Damn straight! Hey! Don't put your foot
there!"
"Honestly, you can't tell me your shins are
ticklish too-"
"Noah told me my hands are ticklish,"
"Alright, no more talking."
"But I like talking, besides, if I don't talk
you'll just keep licking my face."
"Boxer isn't here, nice try though."
"I have reason to believe you are the dog."
"Only during the full moon,"
He snorted and kissed her again, ignoring her fake
panting noises as they parted for breath. She wondered what morning
would
bring, or even if she would be able to get to sleep when he was there
for her
amusement both in teasing and talking.
His shoulders were already situated above hers in an
almost pinning manner, though his body was supported by his own arms,
holding
him from putting any weight on her. This was remedied only by reaching
up to
pull him down into a tight hug, surprised at the weight that was so
comforting
on her as soon as he gave up on his stony position. With their torsos
nearly
completely covering the other's, Gemma shifted her attention to his
legs. With
simultaneous nervous tics between them, they had successfully shifted
into a
very comfortable position, legs and arms all intertwined like some
freakish rag
doll. Gemma could see her own hand, but when she clenched it into a
fist,
it didn't move. Trying the other one she discovered that she had been
looking at
the wrong hand. She tried to vocalize her amusement to Mike, but he was
sort of
not there anymore, playing with her hair ever so discreetly.
Oh bloody hell, he managed to think at last. For that
past few minutes not even a rational sound had crossed his mind. It had
been a
series of strange grunts, impulses, even a few strange cries that he
was sure
that no human could make. When that thought finally did cross his mind,
it was
because Gemma had moved again, and it was just when he thought he was
in the
clear! Her hip was now pressed up against his leg, which meant even the
tiniest
movement would sort of magnetically pull them together in the worst way
possible. Lucky for Mike, all movement stopped, he was given the chance
to
relax and just smile in amazement at Gemma, who was making him do
things he
never would do on his own, or with Terry to be quite honest. It was
funny what
girls could make you do, but this was becoming much more than just a
girl, even
if he didn't know it himself just yet.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Mike remembered nearly nothing about what had
happened the night before, he only realized, eyes shut and breathing
steady,
that there was something or someone tucked up in his arms like some
sort of
teddy bear. He jerked himself awake unwillingly, mouth opening slowly
as he
recognized Gemma's serene face. Various girl-like noises crossed
through his
mind. It was only intuition to make fun of himself like that, and how
could he
not? She had what Eric had come to call "a morning face." They were
these ragged and peaceful faces you could only find on truly beautiful
women in
the early morning, after sleep, sometimes while they slept. If Gemma
was still
sleeping, she had the perfect face for Eric's little term. She didn't
sleep
with her mouth open, it was shut to show off her full lips, her cheeks
weren't
tight from clenching teeth, and her hair wasn't all frazzled like she
always
seemed to look when she walked downstairs in the morning. It was curly
out
behind her, just sort of flowing off the pillow like a red stairway,
and God!
He could stare at it forever! Instead he tore his gaze from the golden
red
stair and kissed her forehead, praying he didn't wake her up in case he
ruined
that perfect face. He went against his own instinct and nestled his
face up
next to hers, sighing happily as she lolled around in a sleepy way.
Hours later it was Gemma's turn to awaken, her sight
greeted less joltingly. He was there, just as she remembered, only he
wasn't
pressed up against her in a warm and protective way, he was sort of
clinging to
her on his back, face tilted back to lean out of light sneaking in
through his
curtains. The result gave her a profile of his face, which was nothing
short of
the cutest thing she'd ever seen. She wasn't one to swoon, even when
she met
her idols the Beatles, but this was something to reel over. Paul
McCartney
commenting on her guitar and bass slung over her shoulder, no big deal,
waking
up to see some sort of God lying next to her with his arms around her,
big
freaking deal. She grinned at her own stupidity, but couldn't bring
herself to
move in case she woke him up, and he was so cute when he was sleepy,
which
included sleeping.
Ten minutes later Gemma grew restless, and she could
hear a soft voice in the hall. Slipping carefully and regretfully from
Mike's
hug, she slipped to the floor and tried to silently open the door and
exit. She
managed to open the door silently, but on her backward exit out, she
heard a surprised
gasp from at least two parties. She knew her hair must look like she
went
through a hurricane, and her clothes rumpled, but she was more apt to
shrug
this off because she knew what really went on last night.
Turning slightly she saw Amir and Caroline frozen in
shock. "What?" She snapped, tossing her head back to shake her hair
from her face.
"So THAT'S where you went!" She closed her
mouth and grinned with tiny devil's horns seeming to creep right up out
of her
hair. "You little minx you!"
Gemma rolled her eyes and managed to dodge the blush
that was creeping to her cheeks. "Please! Nothing happened!"
As if he knew, Amir nodded and looked soberly at
Caroline. "It's true,"
She made a face. "How would you know?"
He nodded wisely, suddenly taking on a very
convincing Indian accent. "The wisdom of the cow has taken my mind into
a
place above yours; I have asked them time and time again in my own
stupidity
and wisdom about their sex life, which even Mike says is non-existent."
He
paused. "Which means," his American accent back, "that even Mike
tells me he hasn't done anything with her, and any man in the world
would brag
about that, trust me."
Gemma smacked him with an anger that was only partly
fake, but the door behind her opened and a bleary-eyed Mike stepped
out. He
blinked several times at Caroline and Amir, his hand inching up to his
neck to
rub it in the way that told Gemma he was uncomfortable or nervous. She
made a
face at Amir before she walked over to Michael and gave him a morning
hug,
which he gratefully accepted, trying not to yawn more than necessary.
Caroline
choked out an odd noise which sounded like a cross between "Awww!"
and "Oooh!" making it a sort of "Aooooh!"
There was no need to ski that day, it was day six, their
last night there. With a pang of disappointment, Gemma watched as Rich
came
down the stairs and pulled a sneer at Caroline, who immediately
collapsed to
her knees in front of him and apologized endlessly for about ten
minutes on
end. It wasn't yet four o' clock and the couple were reconciled,
leaving Gemma
no reason to curl up in Mike's room again. She pouted her lip, but Mike
appeared from nowhere to kiss her neck once and keep on walking like it
was no
big deal. Once again Gemma sort of swooned, but this was just a calm
sort of
sigh that revealed that she really wanted to do, which was curl up in
the hug
and to some extent, die. Dinner came and went, Amir offering to make
some
homemade Indian food that proved to be very good though incredibly
spicy. Food
eaten and minds blank, they gathered up around the pool table
downstairs about
six thirty and awaited some excitement.
"Hello?" Joe's voice echoed down into the
basement. As he appeared around the corner, a sort of loud roar went
up.
"Ayyyy!"
He smiled at the group and walked over to the ancient
beasts in the corner, the snowmobiles. "I realize this is the last day
for
most of you, or the last night, per se, so I'd like to school a few of
you in
snowmobiling. How about it?" He pulled the covers off two very large
very
brightly colored vehicles.
Gemma cocked an eyebrow as no one leapt at the
chance. "Alright, but don't kill me," she warned, walking towards the
entryway to put on her winter clothes, returning and pulling her
mittens from
the dryer in the corner of the basement. These on and the others
following suit
rather lazily, she clamored on the back of one of the snowmobiles and
waited
for instructions. When Joe had filled the thing with gas and started
it, he
hopped on and gave her the needed instructions before pulling Rich onto
the
second, knowing he knew how to work it. Caroline on the back of Rich's
and
Gemma on the back of Joe's, they took off at a nice pace and circled
the six
paths around the mountain. Half an hour back Gemma grinned to see Mike
giving
Amir a whitewash in the nearest snowbank. Joe hopped off the back, and
Rich
hopped off the back of his, both driving from the rear. Now Joe let
Mike get on
the front of the snowmobile, telling Gemma to take it easy with Mike
and not to
scare him, which caused Mike to pout and scowl a bit. The ride had been
uneventful, but it had been somewhat entertaining, so they had vowed to
do more
of it tomorrow when it was light out.
When they curled up in the house together, Rich
putting on his favorite scary movie. There were many times that
Caroline
shrieked and clamored onto Rich's lap for comfort or somewhere to hide,
and
even Gemma jumped a few times, but her eyes remained glued open, her
hands
covering all of her face but that part, arm looped through Mike's as he
sat
there with raised eyebrows, Amir laughing whenever the girls screamed.
He snickered especially hard when Caroline fell off
the couch. "You guys are fun to watch movies with!" He teased.
Mike was a bit jealous as he watched Gemma once again
choose to bury her face in her hands than turn to him for comfort like
Caroline
turned to Rich. She kept drawing her knees up but never squirming
closer than
she already was to her boyfriend. He felt a bit like she was giving him
the cold
shoulder. When midnight rolled around and Gemma was curling up to
sleep,
however, she felt an odd sense of insomnia and loss well up in her. She
wondered if thoughts of Jonas would plague her mind all night and
prevent her
from sleeping, or the other possibility was she was now unable to sleep
without
Michael there to wake up several times in the night and kiss her
anywhere in
reach. She began to feel that familiar hot coal drop into her stomach
as she
thought so.
Upstairs Mike was lying on his back, his eyes open
and his light off, a stick of Amir's Indian incense burning in the
lonely
corner of his room. It was sandalwood, a particularly musky smelling
incense
that reminded Mike of the Egyptians tombs and the hot deserts. So like
Amir to
have all the Indian relics and be born and raised in Detroit. He
started to
roll over but felt like he was intruding in some space that was
forbidden.
Where Gemma had slept the night before. It was her space now, he had no
right
to roll over it, that would be like defaming some holy sacrificial
site. It was
blasphemy in the making! He tried to remember the feeling he had when
he first
awoke in the middle of the night, thinking he had squirmed away from
Gemma in
an unsure way, maybe not used to having anybody within reaching
distance for
nearly three years, and the dog didn't really count since it licked him
and he
shoved it away when it was a puppy. Waking up with her, face inches
from his in
the dark, her legs tangled up in his with her arms wrapped around him a
sort of
comforting vice, it had been magic. He had felt like for once in his
life he
did just what was right and not what was easy or close enough. He had
done
something that had felt like it was the right thing to do, it was just
right to
hold her for the night. Now he wasn't sure if he could go without her.
She stood up and started walking towards the steps,
remembering the strange strength that she seemed to feel when he hugged
her. He
felt like he was some sort of invincible being and yet he seemed so
helpless
when she kissed him. Always as kids she used to joke around that until
she
found a guy that would fawn about her like a queen and her slaves she'd
just
hold to her own. Jonas had been a mutual sort of thing, they both
served each
other and it was just fine. They were both so selfless they ended up
being
selfish for each other. Now she could only think of Mike, dear sweet
Mike who
would always be there for her when she needed him. Every crack in the
empty
hallway was another zombie coming to get her; Gemma's pace quickened.
He stretched and sat up, trying hard to think of a
way to use words to express what he was feeling. He was mumbling under
his
breath as he stood and tried to think of what he wanted to say. He
wanted to
tell her that she was always welcome in his room, but make an
invitation, not
exactly desperate, but not too laid back or she'd think he was just
being
polite. Maybe he could just curl up with her? Of course, if they
routinely
became entwined together like a ball of string, it was best it be in a
private
room.
Gemma walked up the steps and began to skitter faster
but there was something strange. Music from Amir's room, a strange
silence from
Rich and Caroline's room, and Mike's was stock-still. She cursed out
loud,
praying he wasn't asleep yet before crossing the hallway and lifting
her hand
to open his door.
Mike decided that words weren't important just yet;
he'd be able to weave some sort of poetry when he saw her, maybe she'd
appreciate that. Hell, her body and mind were just like poetry in the
writing.
It was an unfinished tale of modern times, and he was the one to tell
her about
it. Prose was just getting too hard to prepare for anything anymore. As
he
pulled open the door, he frowned at a pair of feet on the carpeting. A
vague
thought somewhat close to "Hey, I didn't leave a pair of feet there"
crossed his mind before they stepped back and he snapped his vision up
to see
Gemma standing there, a nervous smile on her face.
Drat! The door opened by itself! Gemma stepped back
as Mike stood in the doorway, hoping he would just let her in. Instead
he
slowly looked at her feet, frowning slightly until she stepped back
again and
then he snapped to attention and stared open-mouthed at her.
They began to talk a mile a minute while Rich and
Caroline stared on, glad they had had the foresight to plan this
escapade.
"I really don't want to sleep down-"
"You don't really want to stay alone, do
you-?"
"If it's not too much trouble-"
"It's no trouble, really, I'd rather have you in
there than alone-"
They stopped instantly, staring at their own feet
before Gemma let out an exasperated sigh, always the one to notice when
they
were being immature.
She took Mike's hand. "Last night was groovy,
right? We had fun, I had a more comfortable place to stay, and quite
frankly
I'd rather be in there than my room anyway, so how about it?"
He grinned. "I was just about to say the same
thing."
With a curt step back, he allowed her to float into
his humble abode and sit with him in the darkness, both on their
stomachs as
they watched the small red dot of the incense burn to the stick. They
talked
about the night before and about how much they had enjoyed it, and for
some
reason there were no blushes, no choked up sentences, and no kicks to
the
shins. There wasn't any affirmation however, and there still hadn't
been even
the simplest "I rather like you" between them, which was frustrating
to common spectators like Rich and Caroline, who were a few more of the
many
that seemed to want to shove the two closer together before they could
realize
that they had the perfect second chance coming for both of them.
"Gemma," Mike finally started to speak in a
different tone, which at first concerned Gemma.
She looked at him. "Hm?"
Thankfully the tone turned amused at once. "I
should probably call Terry in the morning to tell him I'll be in town
tomorrow,
I'm not sure if he knows how long the week I was talking about is. He
might
drag me off somewhere for Christmas without his wife. In fact, I'm
pretty sure
the guys are all getting fed up with me disappearing all the time with
you." He grinned boyishly, kissing her on the mouth quickly.
Gemma snorted. "I'll get them on my side, don't
you worry."
Suddenly remembering something, Mike asked, "Did
you ever have a pet name?"
"Just 'Gem,'" she replied. "Why? Did you?"
He scrunched his face up. "Between Mikey-kins
and Mikela I was normally just me,"
"Are we talking nicknames or pet names here,
Michael?" She teased.
"Seriously, the wife called me Mikey-kins in
front of the guys and now I'm that person, whoever he is." He
complained.
Gemma snorted again. "That person happens to be
here right now,"
He laughed. "I suppose that is my style around
women; sweet and ignorant."
"To you men, that's what we called
'whipped.'" She retorted.
He groaned. "Oh great, now I know what to expect
the next time I say I can't go out with them because I've got a date
with
you."
Gemma imitated a whip cracking and laughed as Mike
groaned again in despair. "Don't worry Mikey-kins, I'll get them on my
side, don't you worry."
"Wonderful, Love, just wonderful." He
muttered, kissing her cheek.
Gemma grinned at him without saying anything before
saying her goodnights and feeling that wonderful security arise as he
arranged
her in his arms and kissed her again. She didn't want to wake up ever
again,
and that was the God-honest truth.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Morning came, and Mike had cursed himself mentally
for running out of time. He was about to take Eric's idea up and get
her alone
to do whatever he wanted, but he kept seeing her looking at him with
this sweet
smile like she just thought he was the cutest thing ever, and he could
never
talk when she did that. A vague thought of something he'd mused earlier
rose
up. Something like, "Damn these estrogenically enhanced bitches!" Of
course, Gemma had always cursed testosterone when she got jumpy,
accusing
nearby males of exuding it into her pores ("Is it bad I smell of
man?").
Their last meal together with their house-mates would
be a sort of brunch, and Amir had told them he needed to announce
something to
them over the meal, so they were all obligated to attend now, even Rich
and
Caroline, who had lost sleep eavesdropping on Mike and Gemma, and were
now
getting antsy.
"Come on," Mike whined as Gemma finished
packing her bag and threw it into the hallway on top of Mike's things.
Her
guitar was thrown hastily on top before she snapped her door shut and
stepped
on the dry carpet in the hallway.
She sighed and slipped on her purple shoes before
Mike literally dragged her outside, grabbing her coat as she went.
Hitching a
piggy-back ride since her shoes never did get all the way on, Gemma
arrived
with Mike at the restaurant late, just in time to see the entertainment
stage
open up and a crowd of teenage wannabes jump up to start playing. She
wrinkled
her nose at the whiny sounding guys as she sat down opposite of Rich
with Mike
quick to sidle up to her side.
Amir grinned at them as they sat together, holding
out a pen mysteriously. "As you know, Gemma, I went to journalism
school
with Jonas Whittaker, your ex-fiancé at Cambridge. Well, I'm
still a
journalist, but a professional one at the L.A. Times, and I would
really
appreciate it if you four could give me consent to use your real names
in my
article."
Gemma took the pen and grinned.
"Excellent!"
"It's fun, and I'll send you all a copy of the
article if I can have your addresses-" Amir nodded and started. There
were
several shouts as they clamored for pens to sign their names and write
their
addresses, but in the end it was all settled.
"What is there to write about, Amir?"
Caroline asked nervously before she signed her name.
He shrugged one shoulder. "I was thinking mostly
about how I came to live with two couples for a week and I ended up
leaving on
my own just the same as I was. I'll include little fun parts. You know,
a
melodrama; the thrills, the spills, the hidden cameras."
Mike's eyes widened as Rich grinned impishly and
pulled out a large piece of poster-board completely covered in small
cropped
photos from a Polaroid and black and white photos from another camera,
all
surrounded by Caroline's girlish handwriting with captions, little red
hearts,
and a huge sign across the top that just said "G & M" like a
billboard. Gemma started to turn pink as she looked at the photos, but
she was
relieved to see she was holding her own better than Mike, who had
resorted to
hiding his face behind his hands. Gemma could hear his voice grumbling
out
about not being able to trust people for a few minutes before he jumped
up and
started off for the restrooms. Gemma frowned, tossing the posterboard
down with
a meek thanks before leaping up to catch Mike's shoulder. He was beet
red when
he turned around, but his face started to visibly cool off as a song
from a
record began to play. He smiled warmly and seemed to tell himself
something
calmly before allowing her to drag him off to the table where Amir and
the
others waited patiently.
Sitting on the same side as Rich and Caroline, Mike
and Gemma posed while Amir took a photo, enlisting the help of a
waitress to
take another of the five friends together, smiling as though sharing a
joke
between them. Gemma dreaded getting back on the plane, getting back to
London,
and having to go home alone again. Mike said he'd be gone on Christmas
Eve and
he'd be gone through the twenty-eighth visiting family. He'd almost
asked her
to come, because in his family's eyes a three month relationship was
serious,
but for some reason Gemma seemed to stiffen when he brought up his
sister or
his parents; he thought it best to leave her be when she was this way
though it
bothered him. If she would only reconcile with her own family; surely
they
couldn't still want to have nothing to do with her? Surely they'd like
to hear
how their daughter was doing? It pained Mike to watch Gemma stare on at
family
activities, but he couldn't just give up on his only time with his
sister in
six months, and she said she'd be fine along, the way she had been the
previous
year. It was time for her to get used to it, she had said, to which
Mike had retorted
that she shouldn't get used to it at all.
As they boarded the plane, Mike noticed that his feet
were dragging and that Gemma was looking at the runway in a forlorn
way, on the
inside this time, gazing out the window, lonely. Mike lifted the arm
rest
between them and slid over so he was mostly on her seat before slipping
his hand
into hers. Instead of the usual slight smile that crept up on her lips,
her
face remained stony and distant. She seemed almost like a statue; she
was
expressionless even as he kissed her cheek in a desperate attempt to
awaken her
from her frightening indifference. She sighed contemptuously before she
felt
her head clear slightly and she forced a smile to her face. It won't be
THAT
bad, she told herself. On the second of January she'd be in Moscow for
a week
with Ximena, Jeremy, Kerry, and a few other paramedics on various
shifts at the
hospital, accompanied by one nurse and Brad Jameison. It sounded like a
promising tutorial that would help her in all sorts of ways; updates on
the
legalities that occur on the job, newer proved modus-operandis for
various fractures
and emergencies, but most of all it would bring out the listing of
alternative
medicinal prognosises and treatments. This meant she'd know whether or
not
aromatherapy could be prescribed for sinus infections, whether or not
she could
medically suggest that someone with a back ache buy a product that
concentrated
on their feet. It was almost exciting, if it weren't for that pit of
gloom in
her stomach. Why must she be alone for Christmas again? She told
herself not to
bother with decorations and started to plan all the various ways she
could
avoid people during the day.
Valentine's Day was a no-go anyway; she never really
thought about holidays. Three big holidays; her birthday, Christmas,
and
Jonas's birthday. Well, Jonas now had a birthday and a deathday, and
Gemma was
left for her own. June was coming around and she'd be twenty-five,
hardly an
age to be excited about. Maybe it was a yay time that she was another
year
older, another year closer to being a spinster the rest of her life. Or
maybe this
year she'd have a few more things to celebrate. Bitterly she explained
to that
dying ray of sunshine inside herself that if Christmas merited some
time away
from her, than why not New Years, Valentine's Day, and even St.
Patrick's Day?
Hell, if her best friend had been stolen from her like she'd
practically stolen
Mike from Terry, every single tiny holiday, even American and German
holidays
would bring her to her senses and force her to start taking that friend
out for
every single "holiday" she encountered.
Someone, she begged mentally, please, save me from
myself.
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