Monday, August 22, 2011

Clear and Bright: Chapter Twenty Three: Welcome Home

                                       

I'm hungry.

There's a breakfast tray sitting in the corner, where I put it, as far away as I could get it... yeah... not eating that.

But I'm hungry.

And my birthday-spankings-sparing, expensive-building-buying, cake-so-beautiful-it-made-me-cry-making, brilliant chef boyfriend is sleeping peacefully. In my bed. Where he lays with me every night, much to the annoyance of the nurses...

Like I care about them. I don't. Especially not the ones whose annoyance is fueled by jealousy. Yeah... that's right... he's mine. Note that on your chart!

I have to keep myself from jumping up and down and actually doing a cheer at this. Because he's sleeping. And this is a big deal.

I have to resist the urge to touch him. To run my fingers through his silky, dark hair. To brush my lips over every inch of his beautiful, peaceful face. To sneak a peek at...

He. Would. Beat. Your. Ass.


It might be worth it.

Masochist.


Am not.

Unless you want to stay in this hospital forever, DON'T.


Yeah... I guess she has a point. He definitely would not be amused if he woke up and caught me helping myself to an eyeful.

I have to keep myself from giggling like an idiot at how full I suspect my eyes would be. Women just don't lie about those things.

He did say soon. Maybe you'll end up right back here anyway.


I have to resist the sudden urge to pound my chest like a warrior ready for battle...

I'm brave!

Or just too stupid to be scared.


My stomach growls my response, but luckily it doesn't wake him. He's still sleeping like a baby.

And I'm still hungry.

And I know just the thing, so I put show and tell on the back burner for now.

Then we're definitely safe, because you don't even know how to turn that on.


Well, isn't she just hilarious? Not.

I stick my tongue out at her and go to get the fork from my breakfast tray. I can't think of a better breakfast. Well, maybe... but since he's sleeping... cake it is!

I unwrap it as quietly as I can and dig in...

Pure. Heaven.

I cried last night when he cut into it, it broke my heart to see it destroyed. He thought that was adorable, and the love I saw...

But the damage is already done.

And I'm hungry.

And it is mine...

"CLAIRE."

Uh oh.

I turn around, with a shameless mouthful, and as sweet of expression as I can muster. At least I hope it looks sweet. "Good morning." It's what I say, though it doesn't sound like it...

His face is somewhere between stern and amused. "Well, good morning, chipmunk."

I laugh at his endearing acknowledgment of my overstuffed cheeks, and, like an idiot, start to choke. Nothing life-threatening, but enough to send him flying off of the bed and straight to me. I regain my composure after a brief moment, a large swallow, and a sip of water, and he relaxes. A little.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes."

"Can you try not to scare the hell out of me?"

"Sorry."

"I'm sorry I made you choke."

Something tells me it won't be the last time... "You didn't mean to. I'm okay."

"Is something amusing you, Claire?" he asks with a wary expression.

I think I'll keep my amusement to myself. "No. Want some breakfast?"

"Don't lie to me. And cake is not breakfast."

"No, Sir, I wouldn't dream of it. And, in my defense, I didn't have much choice. You were sleeping and I was hungry."

"Then you should have woken me."

"You needed to sleep, I didn't want to be selfish."

"Next time be selfish. And take smaller bites, please."

"Okay. To selfish, if that's an order... but as far as smaller bites goes... since you said soon, I was just trying to prepare myself a little. You know... for you. Well, without the bite, of course."

I smile at him sweetly, but wickedly, and I see him struggle to keep the corners of his own mouth from turning up. He's not entirely successful.

But he composes himself quickly. "The things that come out of your mouth."

"Excuse me, Sir, but if I may correct you, it's your mouth, and I'd much rather something was going in it. Or coming... "

"Oh... just wait until I get you home."

I squeal with delight, ignoring the "Your ass is mine" look in his eyes, and throw my arms around him.

He laughs, because he just can't help it, and shakes his head, "You exhaust me, woman."

"Hmmm... well, I'm not sure that's possible, but I'll try my best." I flutter my lashes innocently and he winks at me. And I'm done. Oh, how quickly the tables turn...


He chuckles and kisses my forehead with a small sigh.

I know why. "Am I good?"

"You're perfect," he says softly.

"Then you should stop worrying," I murmur back.

"Maybe someday."

"That's not a lie, is it, Mr. Guillory?"

"No... just an unlikely maybe."

"Well, I love you. And I'll never leave you again. No maybe."

"Please don't."

I never could have imagined that two simple words could mean so much. But the way he whispered them... the way he's looking at me... the vice that his arms have become...

It takes everything I have to whisper one word back to him. "Never."


                                                  ~


More cake, a cup of magic milk- at my master's insistence, and three hours later, I am getting released.

To my master.

And I am on top of the world.

The stitches have been removed from my foot, and my out-of-nowhere-and-baffling-to-the-experts fever has taken a one-way trip back to where it came from. Good riddance and please stay there.

The gifts have all been loaded into his truck, as well as all of my flowers and get well goodies, and what's left of my cake, and I am waiting for him to take me home. Ready and waiting. Dressed in my bad-ass bomber attire, complete with hat that I really do look adorable in, and little Claire and bunny us in my arms. Waiting patiently. To go home.

Home.

My new home.

Our home.

Where he's waited far too long to take me to.

Because I put him through a battering storm.

Do NOT blame yourself.


Well...

Well, nothing. You're not responsible for the behavior of those two psychopaths. And what happened here... a person can only take so much. Your body had reached it's limit. That's not your fault.


But my mind...

Just misses them. Forgive yourself for leaving him. You came back.


And there's nowhere I'd rather be.

"Ready, beautiful?"

"Yes. Are you?"

"To take you home? What do you think?"

"I don't want to assume... "

"ASSUME. That's an order."

"Yes, Sir. Well... I think you are. I hope."

"You'd think that hat would keep your silly brain in place, but I guess I'm back on guard duty after all."

"You're probably getting pretty tired of that."

"It is exhausting, but I'll endure it. For you."

"I don't want to exhaust you."

"Careful, Claire. Lies are my interpretation."

"Well, not that way." I give him a small smile and look into his eyes, "I really and truly don't. I want to make you happy."

"You do that by existing."

"It's a good thing I'm sitting in this stupid wheelchair, Mr. Guillory. Or I'd probably be on the floor."

There's a wicked gleam in his eyes, "I have very fond memories of you on the floor. And the bed."

He licks his lips and warmth spreads over me, and I feel the blush on my face. He leans down and covers little Claire's ears as he whispers in mine, "I really can't wait to get you home."

Holy. Fuck.


Then what are you waiting for? Oh... that slower than molasses witch. Well, I'll take care of her... "Nurse! I've been released! If policy is to wheel me out, then do it! NOW."

"That's my girl," he chuckles, and gives me a playful kiss. "So, I take that as a yes?"

"Silly brain clear and in place, Sir," I laugh back at him.

He winks at me again, just as the nurse comes to man my chair, rolling her eyes at me before she moves to take her position behind me. "May God help you, Mr. Guillory," she sighs, clearly referring to me, "and saint you. You deserve it."

"I'll miss you, too," I say in a smart tone, without turning to look at her. "And for your information, he adores me."

"And that smart little mouth," he smirks, ignoring her.

"I'm very fond of yours, too," I say with a contented, yet anxious sigh.

She picks up her pace as he responds, "Soon."

Doesn't this thing go any faster? Doesn't she? Run, Forrest, run!


                    ... tick tock... tick tock... tick tock ...


My heart pounds faster and harder the closer we get to home. My anticipation is shameless.

And he is fully and completely aware of it. "Anxious about something, sweetheart?"

"Hell yes!" I squeal, much too loudly for the close space of his truck.

And then I realize my faux pas, and start to panic that I may have just blown my chance at impending bliss.

He knows this, too. "I'm feeling generous today, so I'll let that slide," he chuckles.

"You really should be sainted... "

"I'm pretty sure what I'm about to do to you will destroy any chance of that, kitten, but thank you for your gracious thoughts about me. And since I am feeling generous, I'll also pretend you didn't just lie."

Have mercy... "It wasn't a lie. It was merely my interpretation. Of you. Which I meant wholeheartedly," I say sweetly, "and... ummm... meeeeeeeeeeow."

"I have no doubts that a part of you meant it, but I don't think it was your heart," he replies with a cocky smirk. "And... very nice, mon petit chaton."

"Can't you drive any faster?" I ask brazenly.

"You're adorable. But no, my love, my cargo is far too precious to risk. You'll have to be patient. We're almost there."

"Patience isn't my best virtue."

"Perhaps not, but try for me."

Thankfully, I don't have to try for long, because we were almost here, and now we are. Hallelujah!

I usually wait for him to open my door, but I'm really anxious, so I have my seat belt off and am jumping out of the truck before he even opens his. I hear his deep chuckle behind me as I run towards the building. "Sweetheart? I'm flattered by your shameless impatience and excitement at your pending predicament, but it won't do you much good without these."

I turn and see the keys dangling from his finger and pout.

He decides to play with me. "Don't you think we should unload everything first?"

Evil bastard.

"No, actually, I don't."

"As you wish, kitten."

"In that case, kitten wants you to haul ass."

"I hear you, and kitten should watch her pretty mouth."

"Kitten would rather watch yours."

He reaches me where I stand waiting and the cocky smirk he was wearing dissolves into a sweet smile as he takes my face in his hands. "Welcome home, Claire."

I forget my selfishness for a moment as I smile at his words. "Thank you. I'm sorry it took so long."

"So am I," he whispers against my lips.

I hear the key slide into the lock behind me as his mouth begins nipping at mine. He opens the door and I let him guide me through it, trusting him completely. He kicks the door closed and turns the lock with one hand, as the other takes little Claire and bunny us from mine and sets them on the table. He trails sweet kisses over my face as he pulls the silly hat from my head and tosses it to the floor. "Are you hungry?" he asks, as he slides my coat off and drops it, as well.

"No," I whisper softly, "but I'm hoping you are."

"So hungry it hurts," he murmurs low and sexy, his mouth against mine again.

I sweep my tongue over his bottom lip and murmur silkily back, "I can't bear for you to hurt."

"I'm honored that you feel that way," he begins to walk me backwards again as his hands move to slither slowly up my back underneath my sweater. My breath catches sharply at the heavenly sensation his touch floods me with. "I'm a blessed man to have such a sweet, selfless woman love me so much to want to take away my pain."

"Selfless?" I giggle, as he pulls my sweater over my head and tosses it over his shoulder.

"You are," his eyes blaze as he undoes the button on my jeans and slides down the zipper, "because you're going to surrender yourself completely to me."

"Yes, I am... " I'm breathless as his hands move to squeeze my ass inside of the denim. I watch him as he savors the feel of his prize in his hands and hear a sound rumble low in his throat. In one fluid motion, he lifts me with his current hold and drops me onto the plush, over-sized couch, and rips the jeans down my body. I giggle again as he eyes my boots evilly, having forgotten them in his plan. He winks at me as he removes each one, tossing them to the floor with resounding thuds, and pulls my jeans the rest of the way off. His eyes travel over me intently as I lay gazing up at him in hopeless adoration.

I want to pull him to me, his mouth to mine, his body against me, but he wants me to surrender, so I don't move. I wait. He seems momentarily distracted by my mere presence in front of him. I'm here. Waiting for him to take what's his. I'm his.

His eyes look deeply into mine and he smiles a brilliant smile. Because he knows. I'm his.

"I never want you to hurt again," I whisper, my voice speaking the words straight from my heart.

"I won't let go again, Claire. Never again. Complete surrender."

"You have it. I promise."

He wanted those words. Wanted to hear them. Wanted to see them. It wasn't hard for me to give that to him. It was easy. So easy...

And now... as his mouth claims mine... I know that all that is left is for him to feel them.

I let him wash over me...

The delicious scent of him...

The sound of his breathing...

The intoxicating taste of him...

The feel of him... strong and unyielding above me.

His soft lips on mine.

His hands around my neck, his thumbs grazing over my throat.

Claiming.

Asking for trust.

Taking all of it that I give.

Complete.

Absolute.

I'm fearless in his hands.

His thumbs stroke one last time over my throat before his hands move across my shoulders and under me to the clasp of my bra. He unhooks it effortlessly as his lips move down my neck. His fingers slowly slide the straps down my arms until my breasts are exposed, pulling it free and tossing it, too, to the floor. His mouth continues to move and his lips place soft kisses over my breast, before sucking my aching nipple into his mouth. He swirls his tongue around it gently, making me moan softly. His hands snake down my stomach agonizingly slowly as his lips trail kisses to my other breast where he evens out his adoration. His every movement is gentle. His pace unhurried. Demanding my patience.

My body melts under his every touch. His lips, his tongue, his hands.

His hands... they're on my hips now, sliding between my skin and the last piece of thin fabric that covers me. He pulls it from me as his lips and tongue lavish down my stomach, and my legs begin to shake as the anticipation rises to the surface and does the Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy... or something like that.

His hands are around my thighs now, and he chuckles against my skin as he opens me before him. That only makes them shake harder, because he's so close... to giving me what I ache for... to taking my surrender that will come from my getting it...

He grips my thighs firmly in his hands, and pulls me past the edge of the couch, as he moves to kneel on the floor beside me. His hands move up my legs and under my ass to hold my unsupported weight. I smile as he squeezes the rounded flesh and his eyes close briefly. His fascination will never cease to amaze me. He can't even see it, but just the feel of it in his hands...

"Relax. I've got you."

I didn't realize I was tensed until he spoke. My position is somewhat awkward, not feeling the couch beneath me where he holds me, and my muscles were straining to hold myself up. It was a subconscious reflex, but now I know that he wants control of that, too. Complete surrender.

I let go and my body trembles in response.

And then I am his.

"Good girl," he murmurs, as he kisses me tenderly... right... where... I want him.

My breath escapes me in a whimper as his tongue gives me my reward for good behavior. I am dripping wet for him, the anticipation of this gift crying it's own tears of joy. And he couldn't be more pleased. And his mouth couldn't be more thankful. Ho... ly... fuck.


The gentle swirling of his masterful tongue sets me on fire from the inside out. Or the outside in. Or, I think, perhaps I'm not even whole anymore. Not solid. I'm liquid beneath him. Molten. I think. But then I feel his hands roughly on my ass and know that I am. Solid. In his hands. Liquid only to myself. Because my self is his. I surrendered it.

I gave him my liquid self... and he is drinking every drop. Hungrily. He is gentle no more. His pace is no longer slow. His mouth no longer controlled. Because his hunger is now controlling him. Driving him. Driving his fingers into my flesh. Driving his tongue inside of me. Over me. Every pulsating inch of me that is his. Claiming it. Wanting more. Devouring it. Needing more. Needing all that I have. Needing all that I am. Needing all that I surrender to him.

And surrender I do. As his fingers seem to penetrate my skin. As he sucks my throbbing bundle of nerves into his mouth. And doesn't let go.

He sucks.

Hard.

Desperate.

Demanding.

Complete.

Surrender.

Mine.

His.

I am his.

Trembling. Panting. Gasping.

Liquid.

His.

He is gentle again.

Thanking.

Adoring.

Knowing.

Telling me.

Showing me.

I am owned.

He lifts me back into place on the couch, his loving mouth never leaving me, as his fingers trail up my still-parted thighs. Still parted for him. Still offering what lies dripping between them, until he decides he's full. Because it's his. He decides. And he's not full yet. Bless his heart. And his mouth...

Such. A. Lucky. Girl.

I'd cheer if I wasn't so completely exhausted. A sigh will have to do. And mine isn't the only one I hear...

He sighs deeply as he leaves his delightfully ravaged feast behind and tenderly kisses up my still-trembling form. Solid only to him.

He kisses my parted mouth sweetly before I feel his warm lips on each of my eyelids. "Can you open for me?" I peek through the slits that are all I can manage at this moment, and he smiles sinfully at me, "Good girl."

"Hmmm... " I murmur, "Good obedient or good tasty?"

He chuckles his reply, "What do you think?"

"I don't want to assume... "

"ASSUME. That's an order."

"Yes, Sir. Well... I think... both. I hope."

"You're absolutely right about that."

"Which one do you like better?"

"I think you know," he smirks.

"I want you to tell me."

"Greedy girl. But since it gives me great pleasure to indulge you, maybe I'll just show you after lunch."

The man is insatiable... I smile shamelessly at him, "Whatever you say, Sir."

"I'm getting used to that, sweetheart."

"Well, if my obedience gets me indulged...  and it is just a term of respect, after all... and I have the utmost respect for you... "

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

"Welcome home, Claire."

"Thank you, there's nowhere else I'd rather be." I pull his mouth to mine and kiss him deeply, and the taste of me reminds me that I haven't thanked him for his gift. "And please accept my apology for my poor etiquette upon being welcomed into your home so hospitably... "

"OUR home. And no apology necessary. My hospitality was made of you. I'm a selfish host. And I offer no apologies for that."

"I should hope not. If you won't accept my apology, then please allow me to at least thank you properly. For being a selfish host. I loved my housewarming present more than words can say, but I really like to open things. And I believe you have another present that I'm dying to unwrap... and since I brought no gift for my gloriously selfish host... "

"You'd like to ask for another one?"

"Yes, Sir."

"As a means of thanking me?"

"Yes, Sir. Precisely."

"That's a bit unorthodox, don't you think?"

"Perhaps I'm not making myself clear... "

"I assure you, you are. In your adorable way. You want me to feed you."

"Yes, Sir!"

He climbs off of me and pulls me into a sitting position, and stands in front of me. "And you will swallow everything I put in front of you?"

Yikes. Ummm...

I thought you were brave?

I am. I just don't want to lie. You know... in case I can't.

"I'm waiting, Claire."

Why is that arrogant smirk so sexy? "Yes, Sir?"

"Is that a question?" he chuckles, lifting my chin.

"No... "

"Let me help you... because I think you may be concerned about lying to me. Unintentionally, of course. But you need not worry, beautiful. I won't be angry with you if what I give you is too much. I just want you to try."

"You're very kind and understanding. And I promise to give it my best effort. You have my word."

"I believe you." He gives me a soft kiss and winks at me before releasing my chin and walking away.

"Where are you going?"

"You want me to feed you. I'm going to the kitchen, silly girl. But I guess I shouldn't be surprised that you wouldn't make the connection between the two... "

"Jaimin! That is not what I meant and you know it!"

"That's Sir to you, sweetheart, and I know exactly what you meant. But I just got you home in one piece, and as much as I would love to let you thank me, I'm going to keep you that way. For a little while, at least. So, sit tight like the obedient little girl that you are, and I will be back to feed you. And you might as well stay like that, since I promised to show you which one I liked better."

He's still chuckling as he leaves my line of sight, and as much as I'm mad at being denied again, my pout turns to a smile as I settle in to wait for my lunch. And the promise I know he will selfishly keep after.

Such. A. Lucky. Girl.

Welcome home, Claire!



                                                ~ ~ ~

My girl's been through enough, don't you think? She deserved this. Now, if I can just get him to give it up...  But, sadly, he doesn't take orders. Not even from me. Arrogant bastard.    ~CM

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

Clear and Bright: Chapter Twenty Two: Everything

                                   

I feel the cool, wet cloth gliding softly over my face.

Gentle fingertips on my cheeks, my lips, my hair.

His tortured, exhausted voice murmuring my name...

"Claire... Please wake up... "

The subtle trickling of water.

The cool cloth on my neck.

Soothing, now that the cold has released me from it's icy grip.

I'm no longer trapped.

I was found.

Dug out.

I fought.

To dig myself out.

But not alone.

They gave me guidance.

His pain made me strong.

Gave me strength to keep fighting.

To come back...

"I love you, Claire. Can you hear me? I love you. Please hear me. Please wake up. Please open your eyes for me... "

To come back to the beautiful life that's waiting for me.

There won't always be a storm.

I saw sunshine...

I saw peace.

Another trickle. The cool wetness on my forehead.

"That feels nice," I whisper softly.

"Oh, Claire... "

His hand cups my face, his thumb moves tenderly across my cheek. I open my eyes and the love I see warms me from the inside out.

He rests his head gently against me and starts to cry. He's trembling.

"Don't cry," I reach up weakly and stroke his hair. "Everything's going to be okay now. Please don't cry."

He doesn't stop. He can't stop. The pain and fear and exhaustion batter him. My strong, beautiful, chaotic storm has been thrashed too hard. His body begins to shake violently with his tears.

My heart constricts. To be loved so much...

To have hurt that love so much...

Because I didn't fight hard enough...

Because I didn't fight soon enough...

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, but I'm here now. I love you. I love you so much... "

He buries his face in my neck and his tears fall like rain on my skin. I wrap my arms around him and hold him to me. I did this to him. I promised him I'd never leave and I left. The storm he endured was far worse than any I've suffered through for him. So much harder...

He doesn't speak. This man so full of beautiful words has been silenced... reduced, for these moments, to agonized cries.

We move as one as the waves of emotions rack his body. They pummel us. We are thrashed around. Pulled under and heaved up, only to be pulled under again. Together. They have no mercy on him. They have no mercy on me, my heart. I hold him as tightly as my weak arms will let me. We will endure this together. It's my turn to be strong. It's my turn to take care of him, for once. To protect him. To give as much as I take. More.

"It's okay," I murmur, again and again, "It's okay. I'm here. I'm right here. It's okay... "

I hear a soft knock just before the door opens and Caressa and Aricin walk quietly into the room. I see their affection for me as our eyes meet, and they see that I've woken up. Caressa puts her hand to her heart and starts to cry. They both smile at me, but their love for their son, lying broken in my arms, is vividly clear as they witness the intimate scene. He is hurting. His pain is like a knife through their hearts. I know it's not the first time they've seen it, they've been here, they tried to comfort him when I couldn't... when I wasn't ... when he was broken in a different way. But this...

What he thought he lost returned to him...

The complete surrender that they see from him now that he has it...

Their strong son that they long hoped someday would feel...

Someday would love...

This...

Right here, right now...

Caressa starts to move towards us and Aricin quickly grabs her hand, pulling her back, but she won't be stopped. She can't break free, so she pulls him with her. Because he lets her. Because it's hard for him, too. She ignores her own tears as she reaches to wipe mine away. She smiles as she rests her hand for a moment on my slowly cooling skin. She leans down to kiss my cheek and whispers softly to me, "Thank you."

Those two little words go straight to my heart with the depth of their meaning. They give me strength and my arms tighten harder around him. He's oblivious to their presence as his tears continue to flow freely, soaking me with each vulnerable drop from his beautiful eyes.


His beautiful eyes... I've been a prisoner to them since the fist time I saw them. Maybe even before that... but that was something different. This is something different. Now they cry for me, holding me captive with their pain.

Aricin places his hand on top of mine, his palm covering it completely, his fingers touching his son's heaving back. Caressa kisses his hair with so much motherly love that my tears start to fall again. Aricin reaches up this time to wipe them away, and for the first time, as he looks at me now, I see Jaimin in him. He takes so much from his mother that I never saw it before, but it's there, in the eyes. They speak for him, words that he doesn't have to say. Like with Jaimin, words that I see. There's no if.


I bite my top lip, trying to contain my emotion, and shake my head. He smiles at my understanding and mouths the words "We'll come back" as he takes his wife's hand and they walk together from the room. They trust me to take care of him. They trust me to give him what he needs.

Because I came back.

For him.

Because I gave them what they hoped for... he feels. He loves.

And that love is cherished.

They know it.

And as much as I hope he does, I want to tell him how much. To make sure he knows.

I want him to know that I didn't choose to leave him.

I got scared.

I got confused.

I just needed to see them.

And that I'm sorry...

I didn't understand what finding them would mean.

My silly  stupid brain ran away again...

But he didn't know...

He couldn't see...

He didn't know he needed to chase it down and bring it back to us again.

They knew.

They didn't let me make another mistake.

I didn't understand that I could stay too long.

That I could stay too long and it would be too late.

I was being selfish...

I knew he'd wait for me...

I wanted more time...

But more time would have been too much.

More time would have been too long.

I didn't understand, but they did.

I didn't listen right away...

His words come back to me in this moment... You always listen eventually.

He was right. I did listen... eventually.

And it wasn't too late.

And once I saw...

I ran.

To get back here and take away his pain.

And I'll hold him until my arms give out.

And I'll tell him until my voice fades away.

"I'm here. It's okay. I love you. Je suis ici... "


                                               ~



I'm disoriented when I wake. I don't know if it's day or night. I don't know how long I've been asleep this time. There's very little light in the room to tell me anything, the curtains closed against whatever lies outside. It's quiet, and there's a lovely scent of flowers in the still air, though I don't know where it's coming from.

I feel my hand nestled in both of his. I feel the prickly scruff of his cheek on the top of it. I think he's asleep. I move the backs of my fingers softly against his face as my eyes adjust and focus. He's not asleep. He's looking at me. I wonder how long he's been doing just that, sitting silently watching me sleep? How long until he's not afraid to close his eyes?

"You look so tired," I whisper.

"I'm fine."

I move my fingers against his cheek again, and he moans softly and smiles. I smile back and he kisses my hand and gets up from the chair. He bends to place his lips against my forehead and murmurs "So much better."

"I do feel much better. I'm sorry if I slept too long... "

"Don't be sorry. You needed your rest."

"So do you."

"Don't worry about me, sweetheart."

"I am."

"I know, but don't." He strokes my hair with a soft sigh, "Just get better for me."

I nod my head and he smiles at me, then turns to walk to the window to draw the curtains open. It's a sunny day, for now, and the room fills with warm light. Now I see them. Everywhere.

"So many flowers... where did they all come from?"

He expels a breath and looks to them and back to me, "Well, the ones that were already here withered and... " His face contorts painfully, and he shakes his head regretfully at his almost words. "You kept saying something about flowers... and I realized that I've never given you flowers... I'm sorry about that... Just one more thing I've been doing wrong... I don't even know what your favorite is, so I just asked her to get some of everything... my mom. I wanted to do it myself... but I didn't want to leave you. You were asleep when they came."

"They're all beautiful, thank you. But you're wrong. You gave me a rose once... the day I came for breakfast and made you angry... "

"That doesn't count. I was an asshole that day."

"I was a brat."

"You scared me, Claire."

I know he's not talking about that day. "I know."

"You left me."

"I know... I'm sorry... I came back."

"I know."

"I came back and I'm here."

"I know."

"For you."

"Are you sure?"

Oh no. He doesn't know yet... I didn't say it enough... Or I said... Oh... "I said other things? Besides about flowers?"

"Do you love me more? Than him? Or even as much?"

The vulnerability in his question, in his voice, is heartbreaking. What did I say?...  "I love you different."

"I see."

"I'll love you forever."

"What if you don't? Maybe... "

"I will. No maybe."

"You may have thought that about him once, too. But you left him anyway... "

"He wasn't you."

"But you're you."

Ouch. "Jaimin, I... "

"I'm sorry, Claire. That was... I'm...  Fuck." He rips his hands too roughly through his hair.

"It's okay."

"No, it's not... "

"I know how hard it was. I saw you. I ran... I ran as fast as I could to get back to you. I wanted to take your pain away."

"Saw me? What do you mean?"

"I saw myself. And I saw you. And them... " my voice trails off wistfully.

"Them? Your grandparents? You were talking to them... "

"Them too, but no. Different."

"And him... "

Oh no...  "Jaimin... I don't know what I said, but please don't think anything about that. I love you."

"You said them?"

The smile plasters itself unstoppable on my face as the beautiful vision floods my mind. "I did."

"Who? Who makes you smile like that, Claire?"

"You."

"You said them."

"I did."

"I don't understand. Who, sweetheart?"

"You will."

"You're making me jealous. Tell me, Claire. WHO?"

"Don't be jealous."

"Then tell me."

"I will. When it's time."

"It's time now."

"Not this time, Mr. Guillory, I decide when. You'll have to be patient."

"Claire."

"Is not going to give in this time. But I promise you... some things are worth waiting for."

I see something flicker in his eyes, smolder there for a moment. His voice is low when he speaks, "We shouldn't take time for granted. There's no way to know how much of it we have...  Please tell me."

"I'll never take it for granted, but I promise we do have time. Trust me. Please. You'll see. You'll understand."

"I don't understand much of anything right now...  but that I love you, and I don't want to lose you. Ever. And I don't want to waste any more time... "

"Storms and silly brains might have different plans for us."

"Silly brain. Singular."

"I disagree. You have one too, it's just different. Mine runs away, and yours stays and fights. Then the storm hits."

"I'll try to work on that."

"So will I. And may I request that you put unnecessary jealousy at the top of your list of storm prevention?"

"Tell me who them is."

"I will, just not yet. I promise you they're no one to be jealous of. Actually... you should never be jealous of anyone. Ever. There's no reason, and I'll never give you one."

"You have. And you did."

Damn it, what did I say? "Listen to me, please? I said different... because it is. But it is more. It's whole, and it's complete, and it will be forever. I'll never take it away from you. I'm me, but believe me when I tell you, your me is a different person. You make me different. You seem to bring out the brat in me, but you make me better, too. At least I want to be. I'm trying. I want to be better. I want to give more. I want to give you everything. I never wanted to do that for anyone else. Only you. I love you more."

"I love you only."

Oh... "Okay. I understand that. I know what that feels like. Our pain is just a little different... but, Jaimin, please... Don't be jealous of anyone that came before you. Don't. There's no reason. I love you only too. There's no one else in my heart. Only you. It belongs to you. I was young then. It was so different... "

"You're still young."

He's listening. He's letting it go. For now. So, so will I. "Not for... oh... what day is it?"

"Your birthday is tomorrow."

"Oh. Well... I'll be officially old tomorrow."

"Twenty six is not old."

"It's officially closer to thirty than twenty."

I shudder as I say the words and he laughs. For a moment. A brief one.

"Watch it, adorable."

I giggle, as I know his thirty is just a couple of months away, and he narrows his eyes at me.

But I'm not deterred... "You know... you really should make love to me before you get too old to. I mean... thirty is like...  ancient."

"Be careful what you wish for, Claire."

"I threw careful out the day I met you. And it is my birthday tomorrow. I do get to make a wish. And since you probably won't leave me, you won't have any way to go buy me presents, and I really like presents... "

"I know."

"Good. So, since you already come equipped with one... "

"You really are adorable."

"Adorable wants your... "

His hand moves quickly to cover my mouth before I can finish, but instead of looking angry in any way, he winks at me and smiles. Mercy.

"I promise you, I know exactly what you want. And you will have presents tomorrow, but this is today, and I actually have something for you now... not for your birthday... The whole time you've been here everyone's been bringing you things... flowers, balloons, cute little animals... and I haven't done anything... "

"You didn't want to leave me. I don't need more than that. But you still did, you filled this room with flowers, and I love them."

"I'm glad, but the little girl in you popped her head out and smiled each time someone gave you something cute, and it made me jealous... " He grabs a fairly large gift bag from the chair in the corner and puts it gently in my lap. "I hope you like it. Both of you."

I glance at my assortment of cute little stuffed animals around the room and try to imagine him buying something like that. It makes me smile before I even open the bag. He looks vulnerable and unsure. I wonder why?

I move the tissue and pull out my present. It's two soft, plush bunnies. A boy bunny in a chef's jacket and a girl bunny in a paint-stained sweatshirt. He's giving her a bouquet of carrots. It's the cutest thing I've ever seen. The little girl in me jumps and squeals and twirls. The rest of me melts. "I love it. But how did you?... "

"Well, I found the bunnies that day that I left you with Loring... " He stops and his brows crease together, his eyes sad.

I reach up and grab his hand and pull him down to sit on the bed with me, and lean up to put my lips to that spot. "Don't think about that day, I'm better now." I murmur against his skin and place a tender kiss there, and I feel his tension slowly slip away beneath my lips. "Tell me how you did this."

He looks into my eyes and takes a deep breath, stroking my hair softly, and then continues. "Well... I wanted it to be us, but I wasn't going to find that. I remembered this shop that my mom used to take my sister to. It had dolls and stuffed animals, and she would make clothes... anything you asked for. Alaina was always obsessed with clothes, even as a kid. She would draw what she wanted, for her dolls, but my mothers sewing skills weren't up to the task, so they would take the drawings and the fabric she chose to this woman at this shop. I asked my mom if she knew if it was still there and she said it was, she'd been by there to say hello just a few weeks ago. I stopped by the apartment and grabbed your favorite sweatshirt and one of my jackets and went to her shop. She said her customers were usually children, or parents for their children... I think she was just giving me a hard time because I had to take Alaina there once and was highly annoyed... a teenage boy with better things to do did not want to be in shops with doll clothes and teddy bears and shit... " I laugh, but he winks and goes on, "So, I buttered her up. I gave her my most charming smile and apologized... she was toast."

"God, you're so arrogant."

"I did it for you."

"Thank you. I really do love it. And I'll overlook the carrots, since Bunny Claire may actually like them. Though I doubt it."

"I asked her to make that part special... and I told her it couldn't be less than three."

His voice and face are innocent and vulnerable again. It takes my stupid brain a minute as I turn my gaze to the carrot bouquet. Three carrots.

Not for less than three carrots. Your words, remember? You asked him to write it down and not forget.

Yes. But what... oh. Oh! 


"The things you say and do, Mr. Guillory... "

"Too silly?" he asks, unsure.

"No," I whisper quietly, shaking my head.

"Too... anything?"

He's still unsure. I move to my knees and take his face in my hands, and look deep into his eyes. "What do you think? I'll answer if you need to hear it, but what do you see?"

"Everything," he answers after a long look. "I see everything."

"Good. Oh... and I was wrong. Bunny Claire loves carrots."

"Good. And what does real Claire love?"

"You."

"Hmmm... I'm definitely going to have to find a way to get you some extra presents now. I may have to leave you after all."

"You already have what I want. You just have to let me unwrap it."

"Such a naughty girl."

"I'm trying... "

"Believe me, I know. Soon, I promise."

"Soon? Really?"

"I wish you could see your face," he laughs, "and yes, really."

"Why are you laughing at me? Do I look stupid?" I pout.

"You look beautiful. And very happy about soon. God, I adore you."

"Well, of course I am. Happy about soon. And thank you. Twice."

"You're welcome, twice. And since we're on the subject, unfortunately, I think your birthday is going to happen here, but we'll make the best of it. Any special requests?"

"Just you."

"That's a given. Cake?"

"Yes, please."

"Of course, yes. What kind, beautiful?"

"Chocolate."

"I thought you might say that, but I didn't want to assume."

"It would have been a safe assumption."

"So... " He gives me a sweet but unsure smile. "Chocolate that looks like snow?"

"How do you?... Oh. I must have really been talking a lot... "

"Just a little. At least I got to hear your voice. So, snow? Or is that something special that should be left alone?"

"No, but you don't have to go to so much trouble. Anything is fine."

"I'd do anything for you, Claire. It's not any trouble if it makes you happy. Would you like that? Snow? With flowers peeking out?"

That he heard me...

That he paid attention...

That he remembered...

With all of the fear and pain he was in...

And the adoring way he's looking at me now....

Tears fill my eyes, and I can only nod.

"Don't cry, sweetheart. I told you, I'll give you everything, but sometimes I need a little help knowing what that is. You can ask me for anything. If you want your cake covered in diamonds, you can have it. Anything."

"Snow looks like diamonds sometimes. I like diamonds. I do want diamonds in my snow. Not real ones, of course... sugar, maybe? I don't know. Not really my field of expertise."

"Chocolate cake covered with diamond snow and flowers. Got it."

"Peeking out. That part's important."

"So they can breathe."

"I guess that's kind of silly now... "

"It wasn't to her. And it's not to me. I think it's beautiful. Any particular kind of flowers? I don't want to screw it up."

"Just look at the painting. Of her. You can't screw it up."

"Did she have a favorite?"

"Daisies."

"And now?"

"Still daisies."

He looks around the room now, at the flowers on every surface. I know what's coming.

"I guess I blew it... I'm sorry."

"No, you didn't. They're all beautiful."

"But there's no daisies... "

"That's okay."

"I told her to get something in every bright, vivid color... because you... "

"It makes perfect sense that you would think that, and my field of flowers is that. They're perfect, I love them."

"What color daisies are your favorite?"

"White ones. And please stop stressing, you had no way of knowing that. Why would you for a second think that your difficult brat loves something so simple?"

"You're not difficult. And I should have known. Not because they're simple... because they're sweet. And innocent. Like you."

"We'll see how sweet and innocent you think I am after soon."

His eyes blaze and his voice is low and sexy, "I look forward to it."

I feel the stupid happy return to my face, perhaps accompanied by a few shades of red, and he winks at me. Evil bastard...


"Back to the birthday plans, beautiful. Ice cream?"

"Strawberry. And chocolate. And vanilla."

He smiles and cocks a brow. "All three?"

"I don't like to choose. I want them all."

"Of course you do," he chuckles.

"I'm a little spoiled."

"Just wait until tomorrow. Spoiled will have new meaning."

I squeal like an excited child and he laughs as he pulls me into his arms. A real laugh. A genuine laugh. A laugh that's pure and full and no longer laced with worry. And he doesn't know it, but that sound is better than any present he could give me.


                                                 ~


Today is December 14th, and I'm spending my twenty-sixth birthday in the hospital. Though you'd never know it, my room looks anything but like a hospital room. And I'm now convinced that Caressa Guillory is not human. With a little fabric, okay... a lot of fabric, some ribbon- because crepe paper is tacky, strings of blue lights that are supposed to represent my birthstone, and the aide of Emilie and my designer friend, Genevieve, this place is fit for a princess. She's still trying to get me to wear the tiara...

Add to all of this the flowers Jaimin had filled the room with yesterday... and did I mention balloons? My God, are there balloons... they're everywhere. And as if all of the ones she ordered weren't enough, which she decided weren't, of course, poor Jaimin, Aricin, and Loring had to blow up the new additions. It was necessary, she said. For Claire. Who's stuck spending her birthday in this dreadful place. I smiled sweetly from my royal bed, which she had magically transformed into a reclining throne, and they all started blowing without complaint.

The hospital staff is none too pleased with the festivities, not to mention the decor, but my doctor was affected enough by my pout at not getting to go home today to wish me a "Happy Birthday and have fun, but don't overdo it, and have them page me immediately if it gets to be too much for you." And we had to promise to return the room to it's previously dreary state when the party is over, which he informed me would be immediately if my temperature went up so much as a point. And as a belated birthday present, maybe, just maybe, if everything went well, I might be able to have the irritating stitches removed from my foot tomorrow. My fingers, and toes, are crossed for that.

As for now, so far so good. The party is in full swing, and it's time for the opening of presents, because the Bouchards need to be going soon. Things have been very difficult for them, and they've closed down the gallery indefinitely, and are headed to Montpellier, travelling back with Mrs. Bouchard's sister, who came just after the incident. It makes me sad that they're leaving, and still struggling so hard even to look at me. They blame themselves and it breaks my heart. They were planning to leave a few days ago, but stayed when I got ill. Now that I'm out of the woods, they're going, because they just can't bear to be here any longer. At least for now.

They came in with an armload of gifts, and I've just opened two large boxes containing an insane pair of red suede boots with killer heels and a coordinating over-sized red suede bag.

"I love them! Thank you."

"I thought they were sassy. It made me think of you," she smiles at me.

Everyone laughs and Mr. Bouchard hands me a tall box. "She thinks mine is silly, but I have my own ideas about you."

I know it's going to be something sweet before I pull the lid off of the box. I take a deep breath and open it, and pull out a heavy frosted bottle with an intricate gemmed butterfly stopper. Inside is nothing but soft, golden light, as if the butterfly flew straight into the sun and bottled it up tight just for me.

My eyes fill instantly with tears and the room goes quiet. "It's not silly," I whisper, and he wraps me in a fatherly hug.

"Now, now, none of that. This is a happy day. No tears allowed." His voice cracks with his words, and I know he's talking to himself as much as to me.

He clears his throat and I whisper "Thank you" and kiss him sweetly on the cheek as he lets go of me.

He whispers back "No, Claire, thank you" and wipes the tears from his face. Mrs. Bouchard lovingly strokes his arm, and hands him a bag.

He sets it on my lap and clears his throat again. "This isn't a present... just something you've been looking for... that should never have been taken from you. We're so very sorry... "

I look inside and see the dark brown hair and I know what it is before I pull it out. The replica of five year old me that my grandmother had specially made. The doll that disappeared from my apartment a year ago, on a night that I really needed her. I hold her in my hands and stroke her hair and smooth her dress. Now that I know who took her from me, I'm more than surprised that she's in one piece, but she is. She's perfect.

And I'm angry.

I look at the Bouchards and see the guilt they feel at what she did.

I look at Loring and feel my own.

"I thought Leal took her. I accused him... He said he would never... He was hurt that I could even think...

And the whole time she was right there... right there calling him a liar. And after what he'd done to protect me... How could she?... How could she take her from me and hurt me like that and blame him? Let me blame him? That's evil!

I didn't see... How could I not see?... I should have seen! And now I can't even tell him that I'm sorry...  That's just not fair! How dare she do that to me! How dare she take that from me, too! Damn her!"

"Claire... honey, you shouldn't... " Caressa's tone is pleading as she looks from me to the Bouchards. "I know you're upset, and even though I know nothing about that, now is not... "

I see their pained faces, I see the others that are now uncomfortable. Jaimin comes to sit on the edge of my bed next to me, ready to defend me and my selfish rant. But I don't need him to.

"Now is not what? I shouldn't what?"

"Even when they do things that... " She struggles with her words, "We aren't always proud... but even then... a parent will always love their children. They... "

Jaimin's arm moves to wrap protectively around me, and I see Loring's and the Bouchards' expressions change, and I know they're all about to stop her, but I won't let any of them speak for me.

"Well, Caressa, I wouldn't know about that. You think I'm being insensitive, but I was an innocent child who never did a damn thing wrong but be born and my parents did not love me. It's completely ridiculous that we're even celebrating this day. I assure you, if they could have undone it, they would have. So, forgive me for my lack of understanding of what I shouldn't say, but that's all I know."

"That's not all you know," Jaimin whispers softly to me, kissing the side of my face, "and there will never be a day more worthy of celebrating. Don't ever say that again."

"Claire... I... I'm sorry... I didn't mean to... I didn't... I just... they... "

"Mrs. Guillory," Mrs. Bouchard interjects, "Claire has the right to be upset. She doesn't have to walk on eggshells for us. Our daughter did horrendous, unspeakable things to her. We know that. Everyone in this room knows that. She doesn't have to sweep it under the rug because we grieve. Nadine chose her twisted path. She chose to hurt someone who is good and pure and no less like a daughter to us than if we'd brought her into the world ourselves. There are many levels to our pain, but hearing her tell you that a celebration of her life is ridiculous is the only thing that she's said to hurt us." She turns to me now, "And as for you, young lady, someone ought to turn you over their knee for even thinking such a thing."

"I couldn't agree more," Jaimin mutters.

You knew it was just a matter of time. Our poor little ass...


I look at Jaimin, and know he has every intention of carrying out my punishment. "Loring?" I say in a high voice, "ummm... I'm calling now. Help?"

"Hold you down while they take turns? If they need me to... before I take mine."

"That's assault!" I whine.

"Only if I say it is," he says with a chuckle.

"Your present better be good or I'm not going to talk to you ever again!"

I cross my arms over my chest and glare at him and he laughs. "I forgot how much of a brat you were. Any spankings you have coming have been earned, I'm sure. And it is good."

"I want it now."

"I think Jaimin is playing executioner, tell him you want it now," he laughs again.

"That never works, and I meant my present! And no one can do anything to me, I'm sick."

Jaimin chuckles in my ear and Loring rolls his eyes and goes to grab a large box from the stack of gifts. I notice Caressa's confused gaze as he walks past her, and hear Mrs. Bouchard whisper to her. "When Claire needs to move on, we move on."

I know Jaimin heard her, too, when he gives me a gentle squeeze and kisses my hair. I hug little Claire to me as I think about the truth of her words, and the glaring exception to them that is the Guillory family. They're going to make us grow up.

My gaze is pulled back from Caressa as Loring places the box in front of me. "Now I'll never have to arrest you for theft," he laughs. "Happy Birthday, brat."

"Theft?" I ask incredulously, "What are you talking about? I would never steal anything!"

"Stop perjuring yourself and open it."

I have no idea what he's talking about, so I rip it open and pull the lid off of the box. As soon as I do so, I squeal and know exactly what he meant. It's a very vintage looking brown leather bomber jacket, almost identical to the one that he has. The one that I had an irrational want of and did, indeed, try to steal from him every time he took it off.

He laughs as I unzip it and, with Jaimin's help, excitedly put it on. "Thank you!" I screech, and lean forward to give him a hug.

"I told you it was good," he laughs again, "and you're welcome. But you better let go before someone's head explodes and makes a mess all over it."

Taking my position into consideration, I laugh back. "Oh, don't worry about him, he's probably too busy looking at my ass to notice anything else."

Everyone else laughs now, with one exception. One very unamused exception. "Unpredictable weather could ruin your party, Claire. And your ass, if it's not back next to me before I finish speak... "

I scramble back to him and pull his arm around me before he can, and pick up my doll, before looking up at him. "I was just saying thank you because I like my present. You know it's not more than that. Don't be jealous."

"You know me" is his only response. His jaw is so tight, I'm surprised he could mutter any.

His jaw and his grip around me now. Really, really tight.

The only person paying close enough attention to notice is Aricin, who is now walking towards us. Loring is thankfully too distracted to realize my predicament, my friend Genevieve entrancing him from a few feet away. But I can handle this myself.

"I'm not going anywhere... " I whisper quietly to him, "including home if you crush my arm. I'd really like to go home with you. There's nowhere else I'd rather be than in your gentle arms."

He expels a breath and his arm falls slack just as Aricin reaches the bed. I smile at him and declare "This coat is pretty thick."

"Good against intense elements," he replies, looking more at Jaimin than me.

He's tense beside me, his hands balled into fists at his sides. I think I can distract him from his thoughts. Or at least my mouth can. And it's the truth, so why not?...

"And it makes me look pretty bad-ass. I don't need a mirror to know that."

Aricin smiles and I watch Jaimin's jaw twitch.

"That it does, Miss mouth."

I feign surprise at my slip of the he-wants-sweet tongue, and cover my mouth.

He shakes his head at my plot to pull him from his self-beratement and nods towards the box. "There's something else in the box. And I implore you to thank him for it from here."

"Okay. I hear you. And I know doll stuff annoys you, but will you hold her for me?" I hold the doll out to him and his eyes go wide.

"I think she's too delicate for me to touch."

"She's tougher than she looks."

"She's beautiful. I don't want to break her."

"You won't. And she's not afraid of you." His eyes are sad, but I don't let up. "Please?"

He looks at her like she's the most fragile thing he's ever seen, then to me, then up at his father, who's still standing beside the bed quietly.

"You've already made that decision, Jaimin. You just have to never lose focus of how much you don't want to break her. And how much she trusts that you won't."

I smile at Aricin and look at Jaimin expectantly, willing him to do this for me, willing him to understand how important it is. He doesn't hide his fear as he looks at me, but moves his arm from around me and holds his hands open for her. I place her in them and watch as he looks at her for a very long time.

"I love you, Claire," he whispers softly, "I'm sorry I do it wrong... "

"You don't," I whisper softly back, leaning up to rest my forehead against his for a moment, before kissing it sweetly.

He sighs quietly, but doesn't argue. For this I am thankful, and turn my attention back to the box on my bed. What I didn't see in the box, due to my excitement over the coat, is a faux fur lined chocolate leather aviator hat, ear flaps and all. Smart ass! Loring is still distracted by Genevieve, who I now see can't seem to take her eyes off of him, either. Interesting... but this is about me. I lean forward and smack him with the should-be-offending hat and he snaps out of his trance.

"What?" he laughs, "You want to add police brutality to the list now? Because of a hat?"

"I'll hit you if I want, and you only put this in here because you think you're funny and that I'll look stupid in it. Well, you're wrong."

I stick my tongue out at him and pull it on my head with a conceited Humpf, and everyone laughs, the lighter mood bringing their attention back to me.

"Only you could pull that off, Claire," Genevieve says with a shake of her head.

"Don't encourage her, I think the seams are already splitting," Loring smirks.

I throw the now empty box at him and turn to Jaimin. "What do you think?"

"Absolutely adorable," he smiles lovingly.

I kiss him on the cheek and look at Little Claire, still in his hands. "Do you think you have any charming smiles left? She wants a bad-ass coat and a silly hat, too."

"Well, since it's for her, whose mouth is probably much sweeter than yours, I think I could muster one more."

I squeal, and then move to whisper in his ear, "There are different kinds of sweet, and my mouth is anxiously waiting to prove that to you."

His breath hitches and he mutters a low Fuck, then he moves quickly to cover Little Claire's ears. I giggle and turn back to my ignored guests. "Next!"

Everyone laughs again and Caressa scrambles to start piling presents on the foot of my bed. Jaimin sits Little Claire in my lap and pulls the hat from my head. "I know you like your new presents, but you're going to get hot."

"Okay," I agree easily, and let him take the coat off of me. I think he was worried that I might have taken it as a jealous gesture, the gifts being from Loring, but I know it's not. "Thank you, I was getting too warm."

He strokes my hair tenderly and makes a not-so-subtle gesture of feeling my forehead before he drops his hand and gets up from his place next to me. I look at him for any signs of concern, but don't see any. I really am better, he just needed to make sure. He holds up both of my cups, and I point to the Coke, making him roll his eyes as he puts the straw to my lips. I giggle as I take my drink, and start tearing into my pile of presents before I've even swallowed.

Based on most of my gifts, it would appear that everyone, Jaimin included, thinks I have a fetish for expensive footwear. And clothes. They're right, I suppose, and we may have to buy a bigger place just to house them all. I'm down to the last two gifts, both from Jaimin, even though I've already opened several from him. He said spoiled would have new meaning today, and he clearly meant it. I open the larger of the boxes first, and my mouth falls open when I pull the lid from the box and unveil my treasure from it's silken wrappings. Nestled inside is a first edition of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, illustrated and signed by Salvador Dali.

"Jaimin... "

"I know you have a collection of various editions of that story... I was hoping to find something you didn't have. I admit I didn't know that existed until I found it, and I don't even know if you like his work... "

His words are cut off by my leap into his arms, and turn to laughter as I smother his face with kisses and thank yous.

"You're welcome, beautiful," he chuckles, wrapping his arms around me. "So, you like it?"

"The man was downright strange, but we artists all have our eccentricities. I've wanted that for such a long time, but have never been able to find one in good condition that wouldn't put too large of a dent in my shoe fund," I glare at him as I say this and he feigns innocence at the fortune I'm sure he spent. I don't want to know. "But what I like most is that you even noticed my collection of Alice and would go to such lengths to add to it. You pay attention to everything. I love you."

"I try to, Claire, and I'm glad you love me. Now, try to remember that when you open the last one."

"Curiouser and curiouser!" I exclaim, eyeing the small box.

He laughs and plops me back on the bed, and I re-situate myself and start to open it. I can't imagine what could be in it that would make me forget I love him, but he's watching me with a somewhat nervous expression. And a somewhat smirk.

I pull the lid off of the box, and inside is a single key on a red satin ribbon. I hold it up and the key swings slowly from side to side like a pendulum as the realization settles over me of what it must be for.

"What does this open?" I ask through clenched teeth, already knowing the answer.

"A door," he answers simply.

"Now who has a smart mouth?" I ask, narrowing my eyes at him.

"Still you," he smirks.

I ignore his cocky answer and ask my next question, "A door where?"

"A door on my our block." His tone is arrogant now, any nervousness he felt before long gone.

"Jaimin."

"Yes, Claire?"

I truly wish we didn't have an audience, but I'm not going to back down. They're about to get an earful.

"Why is the key in your possession?"

"It's not. It's in your possession."

"This isn't funny."

"It's a little funny."

"That's up to interpretation. Mine. And it's not."

"Well, it's true you're not laughing, but I did hope it would make you smile."

"You did not buy me a building!"

"Didn't I?"

"You better not have!"

"That's up to interpretation. I, of course, used mine. And I did. And it's not just a building. It's a whole corner, technically. And it's all yours."

"Damn it!"

"MOUTH."

"Isn't finished!"

"You better watch what comes out of it."

"I'll say whatever I want. I'm MAD."

"THINK AGAIN. And I know you are, but you'll get over it."

"You can't do that!"

"I already did."

"You can't!"

"Sweetheart, it's done. You wanted it, now you have it. I want you to calm down."

"What you want is control over everything I do. That is why you did it."

"No, Claire, I did it because I wanted to make you happy."

"I told you I wanted to do it by myself."

"And I told you that wasn't an option."

"I'm so mad at you... "

"I wish you weren't."

"You knew I would be. You did it anyway. Because you're cocky, and arrogant, and... "

"And I love you. You used to love me, too, cocky and arrogant and all... but you seem to have forgotten that."

Damn him... "I didn't forget."

"Changed your mind?"

"If it were up to my mind, you might have something to worry about, but since the arrogant, controlling bastard that is you has a vice grip on my heart, I think you can breathe easy."

"That's good to know, but the arrogant, controlling bastard that is me wants your mind, too."

"Jaimin... "

"Don't be angry, Claire. You shared a dream with me, I just wanted to be a part of making it come true. Don't blame me for that. I meant it when I said I wanted to give you everything."

I can't believe what he did. He'd called the realtor that day, but we never even went to see the property. Because we never had the chance... because...

He wants to make my dreams come true. He thought he'd never have the chance to do that. He thought it was taken away from him. Then he got it back... and didn't waste any time. Because who knows how much we have. How can I be mad at him for that? But he bought me a building... an insanely expensive piece of property... so how can I not?

I sigh and shake my head and he gives me an innocent smile. "Everything, Claire."

He's good.


That's up to interpretation. God help us.

Okay...  "This conversation is not over, but thank you for your infuriatingly controlling sweet generosity. Now, where's my cake?"

"You are most welcome, brat  sweetheart. And just to be sure... you asked for a carrot cake, right?"

I gasp and cover Little Claire's ears. "I damn well did not! You think I was mad before? If you... "

He gives me a cocky smirk and shakes his head, "You'd think the twenty six spankings you have coming would be enough... not to mention the others... but your naughty little mouth has other plans for your pretty little ass."

"My?"

He chuckles wickedly and gives my hair a gentle tug, "You know better than that. I'll be right back with the cake."

"It better be chocolate!"

"There are carrots in your future, but not in the cake, I promise. I know what you want."

His words didn't escape Caressa's attention and she can't help herself, "I'll come and help you!" she practically screams, and she runs quickly to follow him as he heads towards the door.

"She sees and hears everything, Jaimin. You walked right into that one. Good luck," Aricin laughs.

They both smirk at him and I laugh at his predicament, then say the words I can't keep in any longer. "I would just like it to be known that I hold you both responsible for the epic pain in my ass that is your son."

They very quickly and simultaneously point to each other, neither in the least bit interested in taking all of the blame, and Jaimin blows me a kiss. I sigh, because I'm mush, and because I know...  I wouldn't have him any other way...






Caressa is giddy as they come back a few minutes later, and can't stop smiling at me for whatever information she got out of him, but I don't see for long, as my eyes blur with tears the moment they fall to my cake. How did he?... It takes my breath away. It's so realistic... my field of flowers alive and vibrant, their vivid blooms peeking through a blanket of sparkling diamond snow. And in the middle of it are three figures, detailed to astonishing perfection... a five year old me, and my grandparents, just as they looked then, each holding one of my tiny hands and looking at me as I smile at my flowers that I know can breathe.

I'm overcome with how much he understands... the things he does... I clutch Little Claire to my chest as the tears pour from my eyes.

He parks the wheeled cart at the foot of the bed and comes to where I sit, taking my face in his hands. "Don't cry, beautiful. I wanted it to make you happy, not sad."

"I am happy. You don't know... you can't... but you do... " my words trail off, lost inside me.

"I'm trying."

"I know."

"One of these days I might even get something right."

"Don't say that. You already do. Every day."

"I really do just want to make you happy... "

"I know."

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

"More than love you, Claire... "

He does. He doesn't have to tell me for me to know. His eyes scream it at me. The things he does. The way he touches me. The way he holds me. Even when it's too tight... I know.

I look again to my beautiful cake. His more is in every vivid detail.

His hands are still on my face. The hands that I love. The hands that give me so much. The hands that ask for nothing in return but to get to hold me. I close my eyes and just feel them on my skin. I feel the more. I feel the...

"Everything, Claire."

Yes... Everything.