Walking on Thin Ice: Chapter 18

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.

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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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