He went.
Of course he went.
*She* called.
The only reason she knew that *she* called was because she was there. A random occurrence, that she would happen to be there when the phone rang. They all were there. Just playing poker. A normal Friday night. Nothing out of the ordinary. Until the phone rang. And it was *her*. And he went.
No explanation. He just grabbed his coat and was out the door. He would have won the hand, too, but he left.
She wouldn't have even known who called except that after he was gone, they were cleaning up, and his phone was still sitting on the counter. Where he had slammed it down before grabbing his keys. She picked it up to return it to the cradle, and that's when caller ID came on to display the last caller. *Her*.
It all made sense at that moment. She really couldn't imagine who- besides the people in the room or someone they all knew- could make him fly out the door like he was on a mission to save the world. It was a look she knew well.
She took the two alien members of the team back to the base and drove by his house to see if he had made it home- 0200. He hadn't. The thought of going in and waiting for him occurred to her for the hundredth time in five minutes, but the terrifying thought that he might, just might, be coming back with *her* stopped her blood from flowing. It was too cold a night for that. So she went home instead, to wait for a sleep that wouldn't come. She remembered that feeling.
Three hours later she decided to give up the pretense that she could go to sleep and crawled out of bed. The coldness permeated her body, and deeper, if she told the truth to herself. But no need to do that. Why start now?
The coffee she was drinking did little more than warm her hands temporarily as she stared at the steaming brown liquid in the mug that she clutched. Deciding something abruptly, she changed into jogging pants and a sweatshirt and went running. Fast and far. Without stopping. Without thinking. Until she couldn't run anymore. She looked up to find herself standing in front of his house. Of course. If she wasn't thinking, if she wasn't guarded, every step she took would lead to him. Every time.
He still wasn't back. He had spent the night with *her*.
Oh god.
She ran back home. Taking much longer than before. She took a hot shower that nearly burned her skin, but did little to warm her body. Stepping out of the tub, she wiped the foggy mirror with her hand, and for the first time in a very long time- maybe since the last time she had felt this frozen- she wished she were someone else. *Her*.
Dressed back in what she had worn to bed the night before, she laid back down on the mattress and closed her eyes, exhausted. Sleep coming in jagged, bitter pieces.
She almost didn't hear the knock at the door. Or rather, she thought it was part of another dream her mind had concocted to trick her into thinking he had come for her. Then she heard it again, and still not quite believing it was real, got up to convince herself that it was a dream. Only to find he was actually there.
No words were spoken as she opened the door and let him in.
He stood in the hallway. Looking as awful as she did. Both looking better than they felt.
No tears. No questions. No explanations. Nothing. Just two people who weren't quite ready to give themselves to each other yet. And weren't quite ready to give up on each other either. Maybe that was something after all.
"I didn't... I mean we didn't... I couldn't..."
That was more than before. And even that had taken three months to happen at all.
She nodded. Understanding what he was saying without him having to say the words. Relief washed over her in massive waves. The thaw could begin.
"I should go."
So he went.
Of course he went.
It was really her call all along.
*****
lisayaeger@hotmail.com ALl feedback welcome and appreciated:->
DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognisable characters, settings, etc, are the property of their respective owners. Any original characters and plots are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended. ... [ read more ]