|Life with My Girl, Reyes|
|These Dreams - Chapter 5|
|Home | Scully & Reyes at Work | About Gish/Reyes | About Scully/Anderson | SRR Artwork | SRR Photo Album | SRR LoveSongs/Music | Stories by MyGirlReyes | Send A Card | Awards/Codes | Contact Me|
Monica's Dining Room/Kitchen Area – A Half A Minute Later:
Monica pecked on the dining room window again getting Eric's attention while he waited patiently outside on the back porch, then pointed towards the French doors giving him permission to come inside the house.
He nodded then entered the kitchen through those same doors while little Xena scampered along behind him.
"Meo," she chirped then dashed off for the dining room in search of her second most favorite human being, the little redhead. She found her then rubbed her furry little cheek in against her calf.
"Oop," Dana startled somewhat then glanced down and chuckled at the affectionate little kitty's show of concern for her.
Monica chuckled, too. Xena loved the little redhead, flustered or not. And she had only just met the flustered little redhead yesterday afternoon. But little Xena loved her already. Moreover, the little cat wasn't stupid. She was a very smart little cat. And she knew that the little redhead was quite anxious and hesitant indeed to meet Monica's ex-boyfriend, Slidell Police Sergeant Eric Mason, so soon after the federal agent and Slidell police officer's initial breakup. Under these highly dubious circumstances, things could go either way. Their formal introduction could become a very nice, pleasant and quick meeting of the minds. Or it could spiral into a nose dive of embittered contempt towards one another. Either way, it could turn into a tedious situation. And, no, Xena was not stupid. Consequently, her little feline heart was feeling much concern for the little redhead—her newest, most favorite human companion—along with her other number one most favorite human companion, Monica.
Monica glanced down at her empathetic little cat again then smiled, "It's all right, girl, she's okay with me," she reassured her then squeezed the little redhead's hand again. "I'm not gonna let anything happen to her, you just watch, I promise," she grinned then winked at Dana again.
…You promise?... Dana cocked an eyebrow nibbling on her lower lip for a moment then glanced down at the affectionate little cat again. …Hum… She twisted her lips in concern. …And what do you know that I don’t, girl, hum? What do you know that I don't?... She found herself quizzing Monica's little cat inside her head.
"E-owp," Xena chirped again then rubbed her cheek in against Dana's calf once more.
"Ah," Dana grinned then chuckled glancing back up at Monica.
Monica grinned too, then squeezed her hand again. "You ready?"
"Yeah. Ready," Dana responded. No. Actually, she was not. Actually, she was very shy and a very private person with situations like this. Hence, to be meeting Monica's ex-boyfriend under such dubious circumstances was quite nerve-wracking indeed to the shy and private redhead.
Monica then leaned in and gave her a quick little kiss on the cheek then led them into the kitchen.
Eric was standing by the countertop, facing the back porch, with his right shoulder and side facing towards them. He glanced up.
"Hey," Monica smiled then eased Dana in next to her, still reassuringly holding her hand. "I um, Dana Scully? Meet Eric Mason," she formally introduced them, then let go of her lover's hand long enough for the redhead to clasp Eric's proffered if she chose to do so.
And she did. The shy and bashful redhead reached out and shook his hand.
"Hello there, Ms. Scully," he smiled greeting her warmly. "It's a pleasure," he added clasping her hand and squeezing it gently.
Dana smiled then firmly squeezed back, just out of habit. She had always done that—used a strong and mighty handshake with a man. She had intentionally developed that habit—a strong, mighty and powerful handshake—when greeting another man, so she could convey a strong, powerful and steady air of confidence towards them. Given her small stature, she used it to demand nothing less than the utmost of respect from any of her other male counterparts.
Eric grinned then squeezed her hand a little more aggressively too, respecting her strong and mighty handshake. "Reckon I should a said Agent Scully then, huh?" he joked, smiling warmly at her again.
"Oh. I um, no," she smiled. "That's fine. Dana's fine, acceptable," she responded, pursing her lips somewhat then looked away, bashful as ever, and quite surprised indeed that he was being so warm and friendly towards her. Under these unusual circumstances, he was being quite the gentleman. Polite. Warm. Kind and friendly. No wonder Monica had dated him for a few months. He was a doll, just a sweetheart of a man.
Monica cleared her throat somewhat then smiled, subtly winking at the little redhead.
Eric looked at her then at Dana again. …Hah… He grinned. That reassuring little look and wink had not gone unnoticed by him coming from his ex-girlfriend towards her new girlfriend. But it didn't seem to bother him. Actually, he had almost expected it. Monica most always did that—wink at someone when one was in need of a little reassurance. "Well. I uh—"
"Eric? Gosh, I'm sorry but could you hang on for a minute?" Monica hesitantly interrupted him.
"I uh, well. Yeah, I reckon." He knitted his brow.
"I'm sorry. But I really need to make a quick phone call, if you don’t mind." She instantly looked at Dana then nodded towards the telephone.
"Yeah, right, you need to make that phone call," Dana nodded understanding the situation.
"Well alright, we can wait then," Eric responded, too.
"Dana?" Monica questioned her again watching her very closely for any increasing signs of uneasiness.
"Yeah, I—Do what you have to do," Dana agreed watching her just as closely with an increasing expression of growing anxiety spreading across her face.
…Oh baby, it's gonna be all right... Monica smiled, her extrasensory perception picking up on the redhead's growing uneasiness. …Honey, I'm not going anywhere. I'm not gonna leave you in here with him all alone. I'll be right here, just a step away… She smiled again then nodded towards the telephone again, just a mere step or two away.
"Yeah, okay," Dana responded to her subtle movements and unspoken words.
"Are you sure?" Monica smiled again.
"Yeah, do what you need to do," Dana nodded again then grinned.
"Okay." Monica grinned, too. "It won't take me but a minute," she said then stepped towards the telephone.
Dana nodded again.
"All right, you two carry on," she said looking at Eric and then at Dana again. "I'll be right here," she reassured her with another little wink and a smile.
Dana nodded confident that she would stay right there and not leave the room on her. She then looked at Eric. She was also confident that Monica would take care of things, if things began to get out-of-hand with him. Besides, Monica was standing only a few feet away from her. She had only stepped maybe four feet to the left, picked up the telephone and had begun to dial "information".
The brunette still had high hopes that she could get a mere delay on those dinner reservations anyway, and not a full-out cancellation. She knew the chef and was personal friends with his wife. So she was confident that they could work something out and delay those previously set dinner reservations by maybe a half hour, maybe an hour at the most. And too, either way, Eric would soon be leaving. Then she could take a quick shower, get cleaned up, and then treat Dana to a very nice dinner, whether it were in downtown New Orleans, where she had originally planned to take the little redhead, or in Slidell. Either way, they would soon be in for a nice treat of dinner.
She then began to converse with the "information operator". Eric began to shuffle around on his feet somewhat. Dana just stood there, silent, and waiting to hear what more the fidgety man had to say to her. Her heart was beginning to pound inside her chest again as she listened to Monica converse on the telephone. …God… A part of her wanted to run outside and into the backyard completely away from them he was watching her so closely. The intense scrutiny coming from him was beginning to unnerve her and break through her cool exterior.
"I uh, so you're from Washington, D.C. right? Main headquarters?" he queried again.
"Yes. That is correct," she smiled guardedly, affirming his inquiry.
"Yeah, saw it on the badge, last night."
"Right," she said remembering their brief encounter on Monica's front porch yesterday afternoon quite well indeed. He had practically slammed the door in her face when she had inquired as to where Special Agent Monica Reyes might be. Hence, she would not soon forget.
"So uh, Mon tells me you drove down, came all the way down from D.C."
"Yes, flew part of the way, drove the rest," Dana confirmed again, remaining very calm and cordial. She was not necessarily being friendly with him, but was remaining quite the warm and gracious woman all the same.
He nodded. "Impressive, flyin' then drivin' the rest a the way down. You had some drive there, didn’t cha?"
"Oh yes, quite indeed," she smiled again. …But worth every single moment of it… she mused, absolutely convinced that every single moment of her rushed trip, the hurried flight and her long drive down, had been well worth the effort to spend more quality time with Monica. They needed the quality time, to get to know each other a little better. And wow, were they ever. But she would not say much more than she had already said about her quick trip to Eric. That would not be very nice, to rub it in his face, her exciting new relationship with his exciting ex-girlfriend, and how that her charming ways had charmed his ex-girlfriend into her clutches. No. That would not be a very nice thing to do at all.
"Ya'll been gettin' a blizzard up there, haven't cha?"
"Oh yes, last I heard. And it's still coming down. Solid."
"Yep, that's what I heard," he nodded again.
"Um, I almost didn’t make it, I—" …Wow… She hesitated. …Weird... Why was he being so nice to her, and asking her so many questions about her quick trip? She heard Monica finish her first telephone conversation then presumably dial the restaurant. She glanced over at her. …Darn baby, hurry up, come on… she mused. Although she could feel the brunette's vigilant gaze on her, vigilantly watching over her, and watching over them, making sure that Eric did not saying anything out of the way to her.
Monica was quite aware of what was going on inside her kitchen. She may have been on the telephone, making a quick couple of phone calls, but she was very much aware of the delicate situation going on inside her kitchen. Things were going along as smoothly as she could hope for though, at the moment. No problems had arisen yet. But if she heard even the slightest gasp from the little redhead, or saw the slightest recoil from her body, she would instantly hang up the phone, pounce on Eric if need be and come to her rescue. Dana was her priority now. Not Eric. Dana. Always Dana.
"Yeah, heard they grounded all the flights up there, all the way down to the Carolinas," he said.
"Yes, correct. They did, as far south as Raleigh," Dana responded then glanced down at little Xena again rubbing against her calf. She smiled then glanced over at Monica again then back down to little Xena.
…Crap… What was taking her so long? And what was Eric wanting to talk to her about? And why was he making so much small-talk with her? What did he want? What did he really want from her? …What do you want from me, Sergeant Mason, what do you really want from me? Hum? An apology?... she mused. …Are you expecting me to give you an apology? Hum?... She glanced back up at him. …Not gonna happen… she mused cocking an eyebrow at him then inhaled a deep, settling breath.
He just smiled then glanced over at Monica himself.
Well. …Hum… The redhead wouldn't say that it would never happen—her giving him an apology. But she certainly doubted that she would ever feel the need to give him an apology for stealing his girlfriend away from him while both had been on an out-of-town case. Besides, in the final analysis, she was not sure that she had actually stolen his girlfriend away from him. If Monica's heart had truly been his to keep, then no one would have been able to steal her heart and affection away from him. No one. Monica's heart had obviously not been his in the first place. Or Dana would have never been able to steal it away. But then the redhead really did not get the impression that he was playing any sort of head-games with her anyway. He seemed sincere enough, standing there in the kitchen with them, and intermittently conversing with her. Maybe he really did only want to meet her, and get to know the woman a little better whom had stolen his girlfriend's heart and now held the key to that same woman's heart in the palm of her hand. But then maybe he had never held the key to Monica's heart in the first place. Maybe Monica had never truly given it to him. Maybe Dana had always been the one holding that special key to Monica's heart in the palm of her hand, from the very instant that she had been born, and had taken her first breath. Then it had only been a matter of time before they would find each other again, fulfill their destiny, and their two separate and lost souls would reunite, recognize and claim each other again, claiming each other's very hearts and unlocking the great mysteries of their two lonely hearts, then filling them with all the love, passion, honor and zest for life either could ever want or need, all over again, this lifetime around as well.
…Hum... She pursed her lips, dropped her gaze down to his tanned chest for a moment, and then glanced away. She could hardly fathom what she had just been thinking, that maybe she had been the one that had been holding the key to Monica's heart, since the very moment she had been born. …God, Moni, did I? Did I really already hold the key to your heart, even then? Did I? Did I already have you? Hold you? Love you? Was I already holding you, in the palm of my hand, even then? Was I? Oh my God... She glanced over at the slightly distracted brunette again, her heart tingling and melting inside her chest with the mere possibility.
Monica looked up, grinned a half smile then winked at her.
…Oh God… That cute little wink and half smile had just melted her heart once again making flip, flop and go pitter-patter inside her chest once more. …Oh God… And if she were to believe in Monica's dreams, the love affair between Devin and Anna, and the possibility of those two lovebirds really actually existing, then yes, she had. She had held the key to Monica's heart—just as Monica had held the key to her heart—the very moment each had been born and taken their first breaths. …Oh God, the possibilities... She was almost breathless. Which meant—if she were to carry the reincarnation theory a step further—that they would each hold the keys to each other's hearts forever, unlocking their love and opening their souls to each other forever, so that they could continue to love, honor and cherish one another, all the way through, from here to eternity. …Oh God… What an awesomely wondrous and comforting thought that was, to know that your love-mate was always there, holding the key to your heart, and was going to love you, honor you and cherish you, time and time again, over and over again, lifetime after lifetime, so that you would never have to be alone—not for very long anyway, compared to eternity—but that you would always have your love-mate out there somewhere—waiting, watching and searching for you—waiting for that cherished moment in time, when your two souls would find each other again, recognize each other, and then reunite, to be renewed in love with each other all over again for another lifetime on earth. …God. The possibilities. What a wondrous thought… She looked at her love-mate again, her heart flipping, flopping and pitter-pattering inside her chest. She felt like a teenager again—all giddy, helplessly and hopelessly in love.
Monica looked at her, grinning and cocking an eyebrow.
Dana just grinned, too, shaking her head. …Oh God… How she wanted to rush over there and plant a big, wet, sloppy kiss on that scrumptious mouth of the brunette's all of a sudden. …Oh yeah… And then just shower her with kisses, making her moan and gasp and pant, until she had no other choice but to hang up that phone, so the amorous little redhead could devour her right there in the kitchen. …Mmm, oh yeah, baby… But that would probably not be a very good idea with Eric still standing there in the kitchen with them, too. …Mmm… But later, when they came home. …Oh yeah baby, I'm gonna fuck you inside of this kitchen. Do you hear me? I wanna fuck you inside of this kitchen. Can you hear that? Do you know what I’m thinking?… She mused.
Monica cocked an eyebrow at her yet again then grinned the most lascivious smile.
…Whoa, my God… Dana smirked. Had she heard those amorous thoughts of hers bouncing around inside her head?
Eric then looked at the grinning brunette himself for a few seconds.
She looked at him, shrugged, then looked at Dana again, while still on the phone with the restaurant waiting to speak with the hostess about delaying those dinner reservations.
He then looked at the redhead again. "Well, I reckon you're wonderin' why I wanted to talk to ya, huh?" he smiled.
"Hum, yes. The thought had crossed my mind," Dana smiled herself, confident as ever, as she arched that legendary little red auburn eyebrow at him once again.
…Aw man, what a flirt… He grinned. …Gawd, what a flirt… He smirked. Now that was a very nice and mischievous little grin she was wearing on her face right now. Very flirtatious indeed. …Hum… So maybe he had just witnessed one of the many adorable things this woman did that had made his ex-girlfriend fall so helplessly, hopelessly in love with her. …Hum… He smiled again then shook his head glancing down at the floor for a moment.
Dana just watched him, observant and attentive as ever.
"Well, ya see, I thought, I thought that Monica and I here, I thought that we had somethin' kinda special goin' on you know? And, well, but after—Shit. Jesus, Mary and Joseph! I reckon we didn't after all, did we?" he said looking up at the little redhead again.
…Uh-oh. Yikes… Dana cocked an eyebrow at him then inhaled another deep breath trying to settle her own uneasy emotions from the sudden tension in the room.
"Well, ya see, I thought, I thought that, I thought that she—well—oh hell. She probably ain't never gonna tell ya about this, but…" he suddenly paused, lowering his voice and glancing over at the slightly distracted brunette again, then pointed towards the dining room, silently communicating to Dana to lead the way into the other room, so they could talk more freely and out of Monica's earshot.
…Hah. Whoa. What the—? No way… Dana wrinkled her brow. …No way in hell... she mused. No way would she leave this room, not with Monica just standing a mere few feet away from her. Why in the world would he want them to go into the other room anyway? Just so they could talk? …No way. Shit. For Crissakes… She glanced over at Monica again then back at Eric.
He cocked an eyebrow at her, silently petitioning her yet again to lead the way into the other room.
…Hah. For Crissakes. Crap. No way… She watched him. …Shit. No way… She stood her ground. …Crap… Did she really want go into the other room and leave Monica in this one all alone while she and Eric possibly resorted to verbal blows and had it out in the other? Did she? …Oh shit… She hesitated for a few seconds then decided to go ahead and do as he had asked her to do after all. What could it hurt? He obviously had something on his mind that he wanted to say to her without having Monica around to hear it. She could take it—whatever derogatory comment he had ready to sling her way.
She then led the way into the other room.
She was a federal agent after all; and she could take care of herself. She didn’t need Monica's help to do that. She could stand her ground with him.
She then turned around to face him.
"I uh, thanks, for comin' on in here," he smiled again.
"Right." …Whatever… She smirked raising an eyebrow at him.
"I uh, well look. All I wanted to say was, don’t hurt her."
"Huh?" Dana's lower lip about dropped to the floor.
"Yeah, I—Don’t hurt her. That's all I wanted to say," he repeated, with genuine love and concern written all over his face.
"I—" …Whoa! For Crissakes!… Dana's heart tightened inside her chest. "I—I wasn't planning to," she stammered, stunned at what he had just said to her. She would have never anticipated that.
"Well, all I'm sayin' is, don’t hurt her. Alright? I don’t wanna see her gettin' hurt. And I ain't just sayin' that to hear myself talk," he said then suddenly narrowed his eyes at her. "So don’t you go and hurt her now. You got that?" he reiterated. "Cause I'm tellin' ya right now, she's been through enough already. And I don’t wanna see her gettin' hurt no more. Got it?" He narrowed his eyes at her once again then glanced back up into the kitchen, checking to see where Monica was and if she were still out of earshot.
"I. Well—Jeezus!" Dana gasped. …For Crissakes!… She just stood there, stunned, and trying to catch her breath. …Jeezus!… "I—" …Shit!… "Eric? Damn. What makes you think—?"
"I mean it, Agent Scully. Don’t you go and hurt her now. Cause I…" He hesitated again then glanced up into the other room.
Monica was still on the phone conversing with the restaurant hostess, yet was watching them from the other room like a hawk—obviously wondering what in the hell was going on.
…Shit. Damn… Dana's heart skipped a beat inside her chest. "Eric? I—I'm not planning—I—I won't! I—God! But—" …Jeezus!… "What makes you think—?"
"Look. Just hear me out, alright? New York," he lowered his voice, barley whispering, then put his index finger over his lips. He then motioned her to step in even farther into the room and out of Monica's eyesight, too. "Look. Hear me out. Somethin' real bad happened to her up in New York, alright?" he paused then glanced back up towards the entranceway leading into the kitchen. "And I figure. Well. That's all I gotta say."
"What? No! Eric? For Cris—No!" Dana grabbed at his forearm staring into his eyes. How dare him say something like that to her and then just stop with his revelations.
"Look, I ain't gone say no more, wouldn't be right. I already kinda broke her confidence anyway, but, shit. She don’t even know that I know about it, but. I kinda asked around, couple a cop buddies a mine, and well. I finally figured it out—"
"Whoa. Wait right there, you figured what out?" Dana glared at him squeezing his forearm tight in her palm. Damn him. How dare him to go behind Monica's back like that and ask questions about her on this bad situation—whatever it was—behind her back. How dare him.
"Look. All I’m sayin' is, somethin' real bad happened to her up in New York. And it hurt her. Bad. Real bad. And if you're gonna be her girlfriend now then—"
"No. Please Eric. Tell me. Please," Dana stared into his eyes.
He glanced up through the doorway and into the kitchen again to check on Monica's whereabouts. "Look. I done told ya all you need to know. She got hurt. Real bad. And she, well. You just remember, Dana Scully. She's got a good heart. Real good. And very tender. Tender as a lamb. And it got broke. Real bad. So don’t you go and break it on her again. Or I'll be a holdin' you accountable. You got that?" He narrowed his baby-blues at her once again.
…Whoa. My God. Jeezus!… Dana's eyes widened at him yet again. …Is that some kind of a threat? You have the audacity to threaten me, Eric Mason? For Crissakes!… "Hah. Eric? For Crissakes," she huffed then let go of his arm, turning around with her back facing him, her thoughts spinning into overdrive.
"Gawd, I—I didn’t mean for it to come out quite like that, but. All I'm sayin' is, don’t hurt her, Dana. Don’t hurt her. Okay? Don't hurt her. Don't do her no wrong. She's done been through enough already. Alright? That's all I'm sayin'," the sternness in his voice completely fading away. He just cared about his ex-girlfriend, that was all. He loved her. And he didn't want to see her get hurt again—by Dana or anyone else.
"I—Wow," Dana reacted to his comments, running her fingers through her hair and then cupping the back of her neck. …Shit… She was flabbergasted. …Crap… She rubbed the back of her neck for a few seconds then turned and glanced up into the other room again catching the discerning brunette's eagle eye. …Oh crap…
Monica had moved in closer to the entranceway and was watching them like a spurned eagle, ready to instantly hang up the phone and pounce on Eric if need be.
Dana just shook her head, silently communicating to her that everything was fine, and that there was no need to pounce on Eric.
The discerning brunette cocked an eyebrow at her yet again then said something to the woman waiting on the other end of the line.
Dana then moved out of the discerning brunette's vigilant eyesight yet again motioning Eric to follow her farther into the room as well.
She then grabbed his hand. "Eric? Please. Tell me. You've got to tell me more. Please. I need to know," she said, her eyes pleading with him to tell her more about whatever he knew about a painful time in her lover's past.
"I reckon I can't say, without—"
"Eric? Please. You've got to tell me. Please," she pleaded with him again grabbing at his forearm and squeezing it tight.
He just looked at her. He wanted to. He really wanted to. But he felt that he couldn’t—not without breaking Monica's trust. But then Monica didn't even know that he knew about a particular event that had happened to her back in New York.
Dana's eyes began to glaze over with tears. She was staring at him with the most intense, sincere and heartfelt expression on her face—her eyes pleading with him to tell her more about this mysterious event that had occurred in Monica's past. …Please Eric. Please, please, please. Tell me…
He could see the immense love, passion and concern the redhead had for Monica spilling over through those watery ocean-blue eyes of hers. …Aw Gawd… There was no doubt in his mind now, how much the little redhead loved his former girlfriend, for her watery eyes were telling him everything he needed to know. And that gave him some sense of solace. But he still felt that he could not tell her everything she wanted to know about what had happened in Monica's past, and chance breaking Monica's trust. But then, hell. Monica didn’t know. She didn't know that he knew about a few moments in time that had scarred her heart for life.
"Eric? Please," Dana pleaded with him again squeezing his forearm a little tighter.
"What in the hell is going on in here?!" Monica barked, suddenly breaking into the serious conversation going on between them and walking into the entranceway.
…Oh crap… Dana instantly let go of his arm and turned away.
"What the—? Are you two—? Dana? Is everything okay?" She looked at her—her gaze piercing right through to the redhead's very soul.
"I—Yeah, fine, fine, we're fine, just getting to know each other a little better," Dana quickly covered for the both of them then inhaled a deep breath.
Monica watched her for a few seconds, not believing a word of it, then looked at Eric.
He nodded, then began to walk towards the entranceway and around the probing brunette.
"Eric?" Monica barked again as he squeezed by her through the tight doorframe then walked back into the kitchen. …What the hell?... Tears were in his eyes.
He didn't respond.
"Mon? I um, did you get that situation taken care of?" Dana quickly covered for the both of them again.
"Huh? Oh. Yeah. Thirty minutes. Got us an extra thirty minutes," she said looking at Dana then back at Eric again. …What in the hell is going on between you two?... She furrowed her brow. It was hard to keep secrets from the inquisitive, ever-perceptive brunette.
"Good, great, sounds great," Dana replied then squeezed by the baffled brunette herself and followed Eric back into the kitchen.
"Hah." Monica spun around then leaned up against the doorframe, watching them quietly, as she crossed her arms over her chest in a very self-assured move. …Shit. Fuck this. What the hell is going on?... She knitted her brow again in consternation, keeping an eagle eye on both of them, and baffled by their subtle, yet not so subtle, behavior. Something was up. Something was most definitely up. Something had happened. Something had been said. Something had most definitely transpired between them. Although she really did not get the feeling that it had been something bad. Maybe only shared? Between a lover and an ex-lover? …Shit. What the fuck?... She knitted her brow again in consternation.
Eric then looked at Dana and smiled. "Yeah well, I reckon I need to be gettin' outta here, so you two can finish up doin' whatever it was you was doin'."
"Right," Dana smiled, too. "I think someone still needs to take her shower?" she chuckled then glanced over at the frustrated brunette once again and winked.
Monica just cocked an eyebrow at her, continuing to watch them like a spurned eagle, and wondering what the hell had just transpired between them to cause such secrecy. …Shit. What the fuck?… She looked at Dana then at Eric again. …Shit. Fuck this shit!… She hated secrets, especially when she knew that somehow her name had been involved.
Dana then walked over to him, obviously still wanting to ask him more, but knowing that she couldn't—not with Monica still standing right there, watching them both like a hawk, ready to see, sense and hear every single element of subtle communication they might try to share between them. …Damn… "Well um, I hope to see you again some time, very soon?" she queried.
"Yeah sure, real soon. Been a real pleasure, Ms. Scully," he smiled then clasped the back of her hand and kissed it.
…Whoa. What the—? Fuck!... Monica could have about fallen out of the doorframe and into the kitchen floor, shocked at what her ex-boyfriend had just done, had she not been so determined to just stand there quietly and observe.
"Ah, but the pleasure was all mine, Mr. Mason," Dana smiled again, charming as could be, then nodded and closed her eyes giving him a slight bow.
…Hah. What the fuck?… Monica sucked on her lower lip. …You're flirting with him! My God! You're flirting with him!… She was stunned. …For Godsakes!... Her lover was flirting with her former lover.
"And…" Dana paused, staring into his eyes, "I'll … remember," she barely whispered, reaffirming her statement to him that she would remember what he had said about Monica and Monica's past.
He nodded, understanding her silent communication, then glanced back up at the ever-perceptive brunette.
Monica was still watching them like a spurned eagle. She then cocked an eyebrow at him then wrinkled her brow again in consternation. What in the hell was going on between her present lover and her ex? …Shit!... She did not like this at all—all of this subtle, secretive, and almost blatantly flirtatious behavior going on between them with her standing right there in the same room watching. …Shit! What the fuck?... She wanted them to like each other but this was ridiculous—flirting with each other right there in front of her. Especially when she knew that all of this subtle, secretive, and almost blatantly flirtatious behavior had something to do with her, hidden just underneath the surface. …Shit!… She hated being in the dark about things, especially when it came to herself and someone else. "I um, so, I'll walk you out?" she said grabbing his forearm and then leading him out of the kitchen and into the living room.
He chuckled, "Yeah, where ya takin' her?"
"None of your damn business."
"Nope. None of your damn business," she said frustrated.
"Nope, not telling," she finally giggled—her feelings of consternation and uneasiness finally beginning to dissipate.
Dana just watched them quietly from the kitchen as Monica then led him towards the front door.
…Oh my God… Her heart was pounding. Her thoughts were racing. Her whole body was tingling with emotion. …Oh my God. Jeezus… What more had he wanted to say? What more had he intended to say to her about Monica's past, and whatever had happened to her back in New York, to have caused her so much distress? What more had he wanted to say? …Damn… And what in the hell could have happened to have caused Monica so much distress that she had presumably chosen to leave her assignment in New York and transfer to New Orleans? …Oh baby, what happened?... She watched them for a few seconds then closed her eyes rubbing her forehead. …Ohhh… And, at this rate, she would never lose this relentless headache pounding inside her head. …Ohhh… She then opened her eyes again, glanced back up into the living room and resumed watching them.
The two former lovers were talking about something by the front door, seemingly okay with everything that had just transpired between all three of them. Eric had taken the news that his ex-girlfriend had left him for another woman quite well indeed, considering.
Dana sighed. …Crap… What else might he have said, had Monica not so abruptly interrupted them? …Shit… What else might he have said? …Crap… She may never know. For when would she ever see him again? The likelihood was doubtful. …Damn… So. Would he have ultimately told her everything she wanted to know about whatever had happened to her lover back in New York? Would he have finally trusted in her enough to tell her everything he knew about what had happened to Monica that had presumably been so hurtful and detrimental to her it had caused her to leave and find a new assignment in New Orleans? Would he have?
…Oh Moni, crap. Shit! Eric was about to tell me something. Extremely important! About you! About your past, baby! About your past. Crap!... She shook her head. …Damn it!… Only a few more seconds and she might have been able to use her charms to persuade him to tell her everything. She had sensed that he had wanted to. He was just afraid to—afraid of breaking Monica's trust. And that was understandable. But now, as he left, he left her reeling with emotion. She glanced back out into the living room again to observe the two ex-lovers interacting with one another.
They were still standing by the front door talking about something somewhat more seriously again.
…Oh baby, God, I wish I knew more about what he was going to say to me. God. He wasn't going behind your back, sweetheart. He was trying to protect you, take care of you, and let me know something very important about you. God… She was so frustrated. But she certainly had a warm and friendly opinion about Slidell Police Sergeant Eric Mason now. He was a very good man, and obviously still loved and cared about his former girlfriend very much. He was not trying to do her any harm. He was only trying to protect her, and take care of her, in his own subtle way, by giving her new girlfriend a heads-up on a bad situation from her past. And that was very sweet. Not vindictive at all, but very sweet.
She looked at them again then instinctively reached down and stroked little Xena sitting just next to her foot. Little Xena had stayed by her side practically the entire time that she had been conversing with Eric inside the dining room. And now, here the little kitty was again, staying faithfully by her side. Dana grinned. Usually, she did not like cats, or get along very well with them at all. But this little cat was different—quite different indeed. She was Monica's. And she was very intuitive to those around her, seeming to know exactly how to charm others into her clutches as well.
Dana rubbed her little chin again then glanced back up into the living room. She smirked as she watched her lover smile and giggle at something Eric had just said to her. They were still obviously very close. Their body language said it all. She cocked an eyebrow as she watched the brunette reach up and tenderly stroke Eric's cheek again with a thumb.
…Hum. Okay. Calm down… Dana internally chided herself. She wasn't going to allow herself to get jealous. Not now. Not after she understood more about Monica's innate sense of kindness and tenderness towards another. She was happily learning more and more about how Monica related to people, and how she handled difficult situations with other people—especially bad situations like a breakup from a former lover. Observing Monica and Eric together right now told her so much about Monica's temperament, character and very essence as a person. Monica was good—gentle, tender, loving and kind—even in the worst of times. And that said it all. No wonder Eric had felt such a need to say something to her about Monica's past. She could see how Monica could get so easily hurt and easily taken advantage of by another. Even in the worst of times, Monica appeared to respond with kindness and goodness instinctively. Actually, watching the two of them interact and converse with each other right now said so much about each of their personalities. They were both good, decent, kindhearted people—not yelling, screaming and arguing with each other, trying to hurt one another, only to make things more difficult than necessary. Watching them together right now renewed her faith in the goodness of people—especially Monica. Not all reacted like screaming banshees when a relationship fell apart. Some actually had the ability to maintain a sense of courtesy, kindness and respect towards one another, even in the most hurtful of times.
She smiled again, so thankful that she had found her soulmate again. She had forgotten how good, to the very core, her soulmate truly was. She was special. So special. They both were. And together they made each other even more special, enhancing the goodness locked away in each other's very souls.
In the Living Room by the Front Door:
Monica smiled again then clasped her big, brawny former boyfriend's big, brawny hands. "So. Still friends?" she asked then reached up and clasped his big, brawny shoulders.
"Yeah but, you gotta give me some more time, Mon," he said as his eyes began to water up again.
"Oh no, Eric, don’t. Don't do this. I really want us to be friends, okay? If that's possible—"
"Yeah, I know. It is. I just, you gotta give me some more time, Mon. I can’t do that right now," he repeated.
"Okay. Alright. I understand," she nodded then leaned her forehead in against his. "But I really do want us to remain friends. I don't want to lose our friendship over this," she said again reaching up and cupping his cheeks once more.
"Yeah, I know," he smiled. "We can work it out, in time," he agreed. He felt the same way. He didn’t want to lose their friendship over the breakup of their relationship either. Good friends were hard to come by. He then glanced up towards the kitchen. "She's alright, I like her."
"Yeah? You do?" she giggled. She knew he would.
"Yeah. Got yourself a good one."
Mmm, the best. Best in the world."
"Naah, she got that in you."
"Oh now," Monica pursed her lips somewhat then looked down for a moment.
He then gave her the biggest, tightest hug. "I love ya, Mon. Always will. But I'm alright with what ya told me. You gotta follow your heart, no matter where it leads, alright?"
She nodded just as a couple of stray tears began to trickle down her cheeks as well.
He then squeezed her a little tighter in his arms. "I love ya, babe. You're the best, and—"
"Shhh. Don't." Breakups were hard. And this was so hard—hearing Eric say all of the right things to her, and holding her so tight, even when she knew that she was doing the right thing.
"And—if things don't work out, then—"
"Eric? Please." …Don't do this…
"I love ya, babe."
…Oh God… She sighed. "I love you, too. But not—My heart belongs to Dana now, okay? It belongs to Dana. I love her. I need her. And I belong to her. And she—"
He nodded then caressed her cheek gazing into her eyes.
He understood. He could see the love for this woman standing in the kitchen waiting for her burning in her eyes. She'd never looked at him the way she looked at Dana. He knew. He understood. And there was no use in him trying to deny it either. But he'd still wait for her for a little while—just in case—before he moved on with his life.
In the Kitchen:
Dana continued to watch them from the kitchen for a few seconds then leaned up against the kitchen counter again. …Oh God… She had overheard that last little bit of conversation between them. …Oh for Crissakes… They seemed so close. And yet Monica was saying all the right things to him—telling him that she loved her, needed her, and that her heart belonged to only her. …Oh God… She shook her head again closing her eyes for a few seconds. …God… Monica's words felt so good—bathing her heart and assuring her soul. Hence, she would not allow her jealous streak to rise up and read anything into her lover's body language or the way Monica was still allowing him to hold her so tight. …Oh God… But she really was ready to go in there and claim her woman, before things got too unnecessarily cozy between them.
"Ohhh," she sighed again, ready for this quick little meeting with Monica's former boyfriend to end. But, he was leaving. It was just a matter of time now.
…"Don’t hurt her. Don't hurt her. Don't you go and hurt her now,"… his words began to ring inside her ears again.
…No. No, no, God, please, don't… she fussed back at the persistent words relentlessly ringing inside her ears since they had left her alone inside the kitchen.
…"Don't hurt her. Don't hurt her. Don’t you go and hurt her now. You got that?"… his words rang out again.
…Oh God. Please. Stop. I won’t, I won't, I won't!... she finally yelled inside her head burying her face inside her palms. …Oh. For Crissakes… Why were his words haunting her so?
…"Don't hurt her. Don't hurt her. Don't you go and hurt her now. You got that? But you're hurting her now."...
…Nooo! No! No! No!... she yelled again, inside her head, as another eerily familiar voice and phrase suddenly echoed inside her head as well. …Nooo! Damn it, no! Stop!... she yelled.
…"Don't hurt her. Don't hurt her. Don't you go and hurt her. But you're hurting her now."...
…"Nooo! No! No! No! Please! Stop it!"… she screamed inside her head. …Jesus! Please! Stop it! I can't take this! I can't! I can't! I can’t! Please!"…
If any more unsolicited phrases from earlier today, or last week, or hurtful, sorrowful visions from earlier past-lives continued to materialize inside her head this afternoon, out of nowhere, she would burst into a fit of tears from all the pain, sorrow and remorse bouncing around inside her heart. "Oh God, please," she whimpered again holding her head inside her palms. "Please don't. Stop, stop, stop—"
"Dana!" Monica yelled from the living room. "Honey, what's wrong?" She dashed into the kitchen instantly pulling the redhead into her arms.
"Oh Moni. God, I—I don't—I—Nothing. Nothing," she panted burying her head in against her chest.
…Bullshit… "Honey? Now don't. Tell me what's wrong," Monica tried again. She had been sensing the redhead's inner turmoil and distress off and on since leaving her upstairs in the bedroom to come downstairs and deal with Eric. And now—just moments ago, while saying goodbye to him—the sensations had grown even stronger.
"I—Nothing baby, I—I'm fine. Really, I—"
"Dana? Stop. Don’t lie to me," Monica stated firmly pulling her out from her chest and looking at her.
"I—I'm not, I—"
"I—But I'm not, I—" Dana stammered again. …Holy crap…
"Dana? Dammit! Don’t lie to me." Monica slammed her fist down against the kitchen counter. "Dammit! For Godsakes!" she yelled again. "Don't! Okay? Don't!" …Don’t lie to me. You can’t. You can’t lie to me now. Don’t you know that by now? You can't!...
…Whoa!… Dana jumped cocking an eyebrow at her sudden outburst. …Holy crap… "I—But, I'm n—"
"Dana? Don't! Don't, baby. Don’t lie to me. Why do you feel the need to lie to me? Why? Damn, honey. It breaks all trust," she said, her eyes watering with unshed tears.
"But—" ...Whoa. My God… "I—" …Holy crap!…
"Dana? God," Monica groaned, her heart overflowing with anguish, as she turned towards the kitchen counter and grabbed onto the edges. "Ohhh, jeez." She felt sick. So sick. Nauseous. And she couldn’t believe it that her soulmate would lie to her over something as trivial as this—something over Eric. "Ohhh. God." She felt sick. So sick. "Ohhh," she groaned again quickly grabbing onto the edge of the counter again, with both hands, then leaned in against it, closing her eyes and willing the nauseousness in her stomach to go away. …Oh God, baby, please, don’t do this. Don't do this to me. Please. You can’t lie to me. You can't. You're my soulmate, and you can’t lie to me because of that. You can't. Because I'll know, every time. I'll know, if you try. Jeez… Just one of the many challenges she had learned to live with due to her overly-active sensitivity towards another's heart. "Ohhh." She felt so sick—like she was about to vomit.
"I—But Moni? I—"
"Honey, don't. Please, please, please, don’t lie to me, okay? Please," she pleaded with her as her unshed tears threatened to trickle down her cheeks.
"I—But—God! I'm not! I—Christ!" Dana gasped, frustrated, as she reacted to the brunette's obvious signs of physical pain and discomfort. "I—Moni, I—"
"Dana, no. Just tell me the truth, baby, tell me the truth. That's all you've gotta do," Monica said gazing into her eyes.
"I—But—" the redhead stammered yet again. "I—I am."
"No! Dana? No! For Godsakes," the pained brunette argued again then looked away. "Jeezus! You're not. And it's hurting me," she said clutching at her pained gut and heart again.
…Oh Christ… "But—I—" …Jesus!… Dana instantly grabbed onto her forearm realizing the overwhelming physical pain her lover was in. "I—But, I'm—" …Damn!... All she wanted to do was protect Eric's revelations and keep his words to herself, and then keep her own inner turmoil and feelings of guilt, remorse and trepidation to herself as well. His stern words had rocked her. No doubt. But Monica didn't need to know that. Nor did she need to know about what he had revealed to her inside of the dining room earlier about the brunette's gut-wrenching days back in New York. …For Crissakes… Maybe the telepathically-gifted brunette really could read other people's minds and thoughts at times as well as their emotions. "Oh God Moni, I—God." …Crap!… All she wanted to do was protect Eric's trust and confidence in her to reveal such things to her. But all she seemed to be able to do at the moment was stutter and stammer around. Now this could potentially become a problem—a big problem—if one needed to keep a few things to oneself. "I—Baby, I—"
"What?! What Dana? What the fuck did he say to you?!" she yelled again panting with pain.
"I—Who?" Dana bluffed.
"Eric!" she yelled again. "Who the hell else?! Dammit! What the hell did he say to you to cause you so much pain?" the extremely-sensitive-to-another's-inner-hurt-and-pain brunette yelled again.
"I—I—" …Holy crap!... "He—I—God!" Dana was flabbergasted. "He—I—God!" She was utterly, completely, beyond words flabbergasted. How could she know? How could Monica know what she had been feeling inside her heart?
"Dana, please, you've got to tell me, before—"
"But—I—God! He—He didn’t do anything, Monica. He didn't! He just wanted to know where I stood with you. Where my heart was, concerning you," she said, quickly telling her some of the truth and hoping to soothe some of the brunette's inner pain and frustration.
Monica nodded, still lightly panting and clutching at her chest. "And?"
"And—God, baby." Dana grabbed her, wrapping her arms around her, then held on tight. "God! I—God!" she stuttered and stammered again. …For Crissakes… She needed to just hold onto her—tight—after everything else she had been envisioning, hearing and experiencing inside her head over the last forty-five minutes or more.
"Oh Jeezus, what did he say to you? What happened?" Monica grabbed onto her, too, tears beginning to roll down her cheeks in increasing pain and frustration.
"I—Nothing. He—Nothing," Dana repeated shaking her head. "God. Nothing, Monica. It's not about him," she mumbled again, determined to somehow not break Eric's confidence and trust in her. And yet how could she continue to hide her own feelings of inner pain, sorrow and remorse from Monica, if Monica was so psychically in tune with every little feeling and emotion she held within her? …Damn!... This could get to be a very real and major problem for them. Monica's extrasensory gift could become her worst nightmare—when it was not her greatest refuge.
"Then what is it, baby?" Monica tried again, kissing her on the crown, and allowing Dana's tight hold around her gut and torso to wash away those painful, gut-wrenching sensations away—the redhead's.
Dana just held on tight closing her eyes and forcing all of her inner feelings of guilt, pain and sorrow away. Monica could feel her guilt, pain and sorrow. She was feeling it right now—sensing so much, from deep, down inside of her. …Crap… Eric's words had really rocked her. And so had that older, familiar female's voice, from last week, rocked her as well. But she was going to have to relieve her gut feelings somehow. She didn't want to hurt Monica. And yet, she already was, in some ways. Even when she desperately tried not to, somehow she did. …Damn!... But maybe that was part of their destiny. Maybe she was destined to occasionally hurt Monica, no matter how hard she tried not to. …Oh crap. That's a load of crap. Ridiculous! Simply ludicrous! Copout, Dana. What a copout. Crap!... She squeezed the brunette a little tighter in her arms.
"Honey, what is it? What in the world has happened to you? I can feel—"
Dana just shook her head burying her cheek in against the taller woman's chest.
"Dana?" Monica pulled her out from her chest again to look at her. "What is going on? What is wrong? What is causing all of this…?" She paused then placed her palm over her chest, just above her heart.
…Oh my God… Dana just looked at her.
"I. Well. For one thing…" She decided to tell her part of the truth. "Something happened. Upstairs. While I was taking a shower."
"Really?" Monica furrowed her brow in concern, gazing into her eyes and combing her fingers through her hair.
"Yes. And—I would like to talk to you about it. Maybe over dinner?"
"Of course," Monica stared into her eyes—her gaze penetrating her right through to her very soul. "Of course, honey. We can do that," she said then leaned in for a kiss. "We can talk about it, over dinner," she whispered then leaned in for another kiss.
"Mmm," Dana moaned into the gentle kiss. …Oh God, yes… Maybe that was all she really needed was a few more gentle kisses from this woman. "Mmm."
They held each other for several more seconds as Monica continued to shower her with gentle little kisses—kissing her over and over again, and gently tonguing her, sucking and tugging on her lower lip as well.
"Mmm," Dana moaned again into the sweet and gentle little kisses. …Oh God… All of her feelings of guilt, fear and remorse were beginning to disappear thanks to Monica's skillful lips, tongue and kisses.
"Mmm," Monica moaned as well then slowed her gentle kisses and smiled gazing into her eyes. She was beginning to feel much better herself. The sick and nauseous feeling inside her gut was already beginning to go away. And the ache inside her heart was almost gone as well. Dana must have been feeling better as well. "But, Dana? Are you sure that he didn't—?"
"No, I mean, yes, he—he didn't do anything. He's very sweet. Just delightful." Dana smiled.
Monica smiled, too. "Okay, so. What made you so—? What was wrong, just moments ago?"
"What makes you think something was wrong?" Dana asked, curious for the answer.
"I—I know what I was feeling, inside my heart, and—"
"What were you feeling?" Dana asked—extremely curious of the answer—as she reached up and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear.
"Fear. Anger. Trepidation."
…Oh my God. Holy crap… Yep. That'd be about right. Dana continued to stare into her eyes—her heart pounding inside her chest. "I um. So. What are you feeling right now?" she asked inhaling a deep breath and trying desperately to calm and soothe her mind, thoughts and rapidly beating heart back down.
Monica gazed into her eyes—the intensity of that look about to knock her to her knees. "I, um—Love," she smiled, her eyes sparkling with renewed joyfulness.
"Really?" Dana grinned chuckling, too. "Love?"
"Yeah. Bunches," Monica replied giggling happily.
"Hum. Well." Dana chuckled again, too. "Bunches," she repeated. …Yeah… That'd be about right, too. She was focusing so intently on all the love she felt so deep inside her heart for this woman until she was about to burst at the seams. "Hum. You know what?"
"That is exactly what I am feeling, too, right now, at this very moment, this very instant, as we stand here inside your kitchen. Did you know that?" she chuckled again already knowing the answer.
"Yep. So much, I can hardly breathe," she said then leaned in for another kiss.
"Mmm," they both moaned into the gentle kiss—kissing each other for several more seconds.
"Wow," Monica gasped, practically weak in the knees.
Dana chuckled again realizing she had made her practically weak in the knees. She wasn't supernaturally gifted like the brunette. But she didn’t have to be to know that. "So. No more bad feelings inside your little tummy or chest?" she teased, placing her hand over the brunette's heart.
"Nope. No more," she giggled again.
"Good. Well alright. We fixed that." Dana grinned again. She was learning how to distract Monica's extrasensory gift from bad things she didn’t want her to know or feel. All she had to do was kiss her, passionately, and concentrate on all the love she held so deep inside her heart for her. That seemed to work. "Now. You need to go and get your shower baby, or will never make those dinner reservations."
"Oh yeah, right, okay, I'm on it." Monica let go of her just as Dana playfully slapped her on the butt.
She giggled at the playful gesture. "I um, by the way…"
"Yes?" Dana smiled.
"Um, me hitting the kitchen counter like that, I—"
"God. You've seen me do worse." Dana knitted her brow.
"Yeah, but you jumped and, I swear Dana, I would never hurt you, I swear I wouldn't," Monica said pulling her into her arms again.
"Oh God, baby," Dana groaned. …Gosh, baby. I know… If only she could say the same thing. She had already hurt her, bad enough to leave bruises on her last week. "I know, baby. And I don't doubt that. I don't."
"I wouldn't baby, I swear. It's just that, I don’t do too good when I know that someone is trying to hide something from me," Monica said then pulled the redhead out from her arms again so she could look at her. "Dana? I need to tell you something. I—You—You can't hide things from me, okay? You can’t. Nobody can. Not if I really love them. And, with you, it's different. More pronounced. Because, I love you so much. And because, we're soulmates. And because of that, it's different. And—God. I don’t know how to explain it exactly, but—it's different. And, something inside of me knows, okay? It knows. Whether I want it to or not, it knows. And then, I know. And then..." she shrugged.
"Okay," Dana nodded, understanding better now than ever exactly what her lover was talking about after what they had just experienced together. …Holy crap… Monica's extraordinary, extrasensory gift could really, potentially become a real problem for them, if she ever did want to keep secrets from her on a regular basis. …Holy crap… "Um, Moni? Can you read people's minds? Another person's thoughts?" she asked, a little wary of the answer.
"Um, nope, not really. Um, maybe, sometimes. I don’t know."
"You don’t know."
"No. Not really, I mean, yeah, I think so. Maybe. Sometimes. Gosh, I don’t know. Not all the time."
Dana nodded again pursing her lips. "Okay. Fair enough."
"Well. Wait a minute. What I'm trying to say is—I'm not trying to hedge the question, but—It's just that—Sometimes I can, sometimes I think I can, and sometimes I don’t have a frickin' clue. You know? Okay? Does that make sense?"
Dana looked at her for few seconds then burst into a fit of giggles. "Oh God, not a frickin' clue, huh? Join the club." She laughed, bending double and snorting with some more comedic relief.
Monica then followed suit, snorting herself with some much-needed comedic relief.
They both just stood there laughing and giggling at the prospect of Monica's intermittent abilities to read other people's minds.
"Oh God, thank God. I didn’t want you knowing every single thing I might be thinking. Jesus Christ," Dana said. "I need a little space."
Monica snorted again then bent double with more laughter. "Well, if I ever do perfect the skill, I'll never tell," she laughed again.
"Oh please. Don’t tell me that. Shit." Dana laughed again.
Xena then jumped up onto the kitchen counter to join in on all the fun.
"Oh my gosh, reading my thoughts, and my mind." Dana laughed again stroking the little cat. "Holy crap. Did you read my mind just a little while ago, when I thought about, doing something to you inside of this kitchen?"
"You mean fucking me later, while I was on the phone?"
"Oh my God! You did!" Dana's eyes widened in disbelief. "Holy shit! You—"
"No, I didn't read your mind. I didn’t have to. All I had to do was read your eyes, your lips and body language, and—rrrrrroaw," she growled seductively.
Dana giggled again. "Oh wow. Was it that obvious?"
"Hell, yeah. You were about knocking me down over here with that lusty look. So you wanna fuck me inside my kitchen, huh?"
Dana laughed. "Yep. As soon as we get home."
"Oh God." Monica giggled again shaking her head. There were no curtains or blinds up on her French doors or the window in the dining room. …Oh well… The neighbors might be in for a good show. She giggled again shaking her head. "So, baby, are you really okay? How's your headache?"
"Oh. Fine. Almost gone."
"Sweetheart? Go get that shower."
"Oh yeah. Right. I'm on it."
And with that, Monica was gone, headed for the stairs and up to her bedroom, headed for the master bedroom shower.
Upstairs in the Master Bedroom – Five Minutes Later:
Dana rolled over in the bed again thinking about everything that had just transpired between them downstairs, her quick meeting with Eric, all that he had said to her, then Monica being so determined to find out what he might have said to her—only because she had sensed the redhead's frustrations and uneasiness—then more about the two visions she had experienced while taking a shower and then getting dressed for the night.
"Good grief. Holy crap." Her words echoed throughout the large bedroom. It was crazy. Wild. Unfathomable. And yet—real.
Monica was still in the shower.
Dana glanced up towards the bathroom door again. She had decided to wait for the brunette upstairs in her bedroom. She didn’t want to wait downstairs in the family room. She wanted—no—she needed to be near the brunette right now. She couldn’t really explain it. She just knew that she needed to be near the brunette right now. And what was she going to do when it came time for her to leave, and fly back to DC?
"Oh gosh. Crap." Her words echoed yet again throughout the large bedroom. It was unfathomable. Unimaginable. Unthinkable. And yet—real.
She'd think about that later.
Xena then hopped up onto the bed from out of the blue.
"Well, hey little girl. Where have you been? Were you looking out for me earlier today? Hum? When that man, that used to be your mommy's man, wanted to talk to me? Hum? But now she's chosen me? Hum?" Dana baby-talked to the little cat.
"E-ow," Xena chirped then purred rubbing her little cheek up against her hand.
The redhead then reached down inside her jeans pocket and felt for her little touchstone. She then pulled it out from its warm and cozy home. She grinned rolling and tumbling it around with her fingers inside her palm. She loved this little stone. It was so special. And tingled in her hand almost every time she held it. …Weird… She wasn't afraid of it. Just intrigued. And Monica had yet to tell her the whole story behind it—the "family legend", as Monica had phrased it. …Maybe over dinner… she thought.
The phone began to chime.
She glanced over at it.
…Hum… She wondered if she should answer it.
She quickly decided to just let the answering machine get it.
"Hello. You've rea—Beeeeeeeeeep."
…Whoa… She cocked an eyebrow. Whoever it was knew how to bypass the message machine.
"Baby girl. Call me. Pronto. Te quiero." Click.
…Whoa… Dana about fell off the bed dropping the little touchstone to the floor. It then rolled off to somewhere underneath the bed. …Holy crap… She stared at the answering machine. That voice. That voice. That voice. It was so eerily familiar. That voice. That voice. It was the same voice. It had to be. That was the same older female's voice that she had heard just minutes ago and last week inside her head when Monica had been so sick. …Holy crap!...
She then eased up and leaned over looking at all the various buttons on the small machine.
Should she? Would she? Or should she not? What if she accidentally erased the message? But she really would like to hear that voice again, just to be sure.
She glanced up towards the bathroom door and shower again.
Monica was still in the shower, by the sounds of the running water still echoing from the shower stall into the bedroom.
…Hum. Well… She could wait until Monica got out of the shower, then tell her about the phone call she had missed. Then Monica would probably hit the playback button so she could listen to whomever had called. Then she could listen to the eerily familiar older female's voice again herself. …Hum…
She then leaned down over the edge of the bed looking for the little touchstone. "Well crap. Where the hell?"
She looked and looked. Nowhere was the little touchstone to be found. Now where in the world had that little rolling rock rolled off to? She looked and looked then leaned over a little farther and began to feel around on the carpet just underneath the bed. She then felt a small wicker basket. …Hum… Surely it hadn't fallen off and rolled into the little basket. But, it might have.
Dana smirked then pulled the small basket out. It had a wicker cover attached at one end by two hinges. But it did not fit very well over the rest of the belly and contents of the little basket. …Hum… There was about a fourth, to a half an inch of space all around the edge of the cover, between it and the thin walls of the little basket all around the three sides that were not attached.
"Hum." …Well… It could have easily fallen off and rolled off into the little basket. "Hum." …Oh, good grief…
Should she? Would she? Or should she not? But her little touchstone was most likely inside the little basket now, hidden cozily underneath Monica's side of the bed. …Oh, what the fuck?... She opened it, looking for her little touchstone. …Whoa! Oh my, my!... "Oh my God!" she gasped instantly glancing up towards the bathroom again—feeling as if she had just been caught with her hand in a warm and buttery pot of cookie dough. "Holy shit." Her heart skipped a beat. "Oh my, my. Moni, Moni, Moni."
Monica was still in the shower washing up—thank God.
"Oh baby." The redhead began to giggle. "Oh my, my. Moni, Moni, Moni. Yes, indeedy." She giggled again. "Um-hummm." There were all sorts of nice little rubber toys, wrappers, condoms, lubricants, gels, batteries, breath mints, vibrating wands, eggs and bullets, different shapes and sizes of G-spot wands, dildos and other vibrating thingies inside the little basket. "Oh my, my. Yes indeedy. Moni, Moni, Moni." The redhead licked her lips, giggling again, then nibbled on her lower. "Oh my, my. Yes indeedy. Um-hummm." She pulled one of the nice, life-sized, six, maybe seven-inch (she guessed) phallic-shaped silicone toys out. "Oh my goodness. Um-hummm. Fuck-n-ay." Yep. That's generally what one did with one. "Oh my, my. Moni, Moni, Moni. So you do use them on occasion." She giggled again. "Oh yeah. God." Her heart skipped another beat. …Hum. My, my, my. Any straps or harnesses in this thing?... She giggled again, beginning to search around in the very bottom of the little basket for a harness. …Nope. Darn… "Hum," she grunted.
Suddenly the water in the shower stopped.
"Oh fuck. Shit." She quickly shuffled everything back together again inside the little basket—hopefully the way she had found it—and then shoved it back underneath the bed—hopefully near the same spot. "Hum." She then eased herself back down against the bed, smiling. …Oh yeah. Holy crap... "Ohhh," she groaned. She had just remembered. She had left her little touchstone inside the basket. …Damn…
"Hey. Whatcha doin'?" Monica suddenly cooed from the doorway—stark naked.
…Oh my God… Dana's eyes widened. Her heart fluttered inside her chest. "I um—" …Holy crap… Water was dripping down onto the bathroom tiled floor from all over the stark naked woman's luscious body. …Um, um, um… "I um. Oh my," she barely mumbled under her breath. …Oh my goodness… Her eyes instantly dropped down to the tall, dark and gorgeous, stark naked woman's crotch. …Oh yeah… She felt a twinge in her groin. That dark-as-midnight, damp patch of pubic fur brought back good memories, of an old motel room back in Helena, Montana. She couldn't help it. Something about that dark raven, damp, black-as-midnight, patch of pubic hair. …Oh my, my… "Um, um, um," she moaned again. …Jesus… "Shit baby, you need to get dressed, dried off and dressed, or we're never gonna make it, to those—Ohhh."
Monica had hopped up onto the bed and on top of her straddling her and sprawled out all over the top of her.
"Ohhh, God. Monica?" Dana panted creaming herself so fast she could hardly breathe. And she was still creaming herself. "Ohhh, baby."
"Maybe we should go for some carryout."
"Huh?" Dana panted again. "Wha—Whatever, you wan—Oh fuck, Moni."
"Hum?" Monica just as quickly hopped off the bed again and was now standing in the middle of the bedroom quickly toweling herself dry. "Yeah, on second thought, Tee wouldn't be very happy—"
"Tee?" Dana panted running her fingers through her hair and readjusting her crotch, squeezing her legs together for a moment and trying to rein her rising libido back in.
"Yeah. Tee's the hostess tonight, and she did me a favor, setting those dinner reservations back a half hour."
"Um. Well. You think we're even gonna make it, this late in the—?" Dana glanced at the clock.
"Oh yeah, we'll make it. I know a shortcut. God, baby, I didn’t mean to get you so wet."
"Huh?" Dana just looked at her. …Wet? Oh yeah. I'm wet all right… Soaking.
"Your top, and jeans, I—"
"Oh. I thought you meant, somewhere else." Dana cocked an eyebrow at her.
Monica just looked at her for a few seconds, towel-drying herself off, then blushed three shades of red bursting into a fit of giggles.
…Good grief… Dana smirked. Between finding that darlingly sexy and alluring little sex toy box underneath the bed, and then having that darlingly sexy and alluring owner of that darlingly sexy little sex toy box jump on top of her, stark naked and soaking wet. …Good grief!… No wonder she was so wet. Soaking. "Um. Somebody called, while you were taking your shower," she panted.
"Really?" Monica threw the damp bath towel back inside the bathroom onto the tiled floor then skipped over to her chest-of-drawers and pulled her underwear drawer out.
"Yeah. Some woman."
"Anyone important?" Monica rummaged around in the drawer—stark naked—her back and butt shining and swaying in the subdued light.
…Oh Gawd… Dana was getting so aroused the more she watched the stark naked woman move and sway around in the subdued light. "Mmm." She nibbled on her lower lip. "I um, I don’t know. She just said, she wanted you to call her back."
"Oh. Well, was she younger or older?"
"Older." …Oh baby, God. Please get dressed, before I—Um, um, um…
Monica then skipped over to the message machine and hit the playback button. After a few seconds of listening to the sweet, older woman's voice, "Oh yeah, that's Grams, my grandmother," she said. "I can’t wait for you to meet her. You're gonna love her, Dana. And she'll love you, too. She already knows about you, you know," she giggled.
Dana smirked curling her lower lip. Who didn’t already know about her and Monica's relationship in Monica's life? …Wow… The brunette had been so open and forthcoming about their relationship to almost everyone that really mattered in her life already—except for maybe Doggett. She wasn't sure if Monica had mentioned it to him yet or not. But she was sure that in time she would.
Now that could make for a tedious situation—working with John Doggett and him knowing about their long-distance relationship. But maybe it wouldn't be so bad. He seemed to already know that something was up between the two of them anyway, by the way he had acted the other night at the funeral home and then the next day at Mulder's memorial service. He seemed rather giddy and almost overly protective of her—almost as if Monica had put him up to watching over her or something. She wouldn't doubt it. Monica was extremely protective of her—almost overly protective of her. She wondered if that would change in time, or if it was just part of who Monica was—extremely diligent and almost overly protective of those she loved. …Hum… She smiled again. "So that was your grandmother?"
"Yep. Did you talk to her?"
"I—No." …Not directly. But I think she's already been talking to me. Indirectly. Telepathically. Spiritually. Something… Dana pursed her lips.
"Oh gosh okay, are you ready?" the brunette said, hurriedly zipping up her jeans. "Oh frig, I can get this in the car," she said referring to her still unbuckled belt.
Dana grinned again, cocking an eyebrow at her still unbuckled belt. …Mmm. Maybe I can "get it" in the car… "I um, yep. I'm ready." …Been ready, baby. Crap…
Monica stopped for a moment to look at her.
"What?" Dana noticed her scrutiny.
"About—I know I've kept you waiting. And then with Eric and all."
"Oh no, gosh baby, it's okay, that was fine. He just wanted to talk to me and…" she shrugged.
"Yeah, well, as long as he didn’t say anything—"
"He didn't. He was very much the gentleman. Everything was fine," Dana said then got up from the bed and reached up wrapping her arms around her. "But, only one thing..."
"Why didn’t you tell me that you'd been sleeping with Brad Pitt?"
"Huh?" Monica grunted then eased back from her arms to gaze into her eyes. She then burst into another fit of giggles. "Well. He does kinda look like him, doesn’t he?"
"Kind of? Good grief, Mon, he's gorgeous! He could be his twin brother!"
"Yeah, I guess."
"You guess? He does! It was like, talking to Brad Pitt! It was—unnerving! Stunning! I couldn't quit thinking about it. But you—?"
"Well. I've never been much of a Brad Pitt fan, I mean he's a cutie and all, but I like the, I don’t know. I like—I guess it's more in the personality for me."
"Well, for me too, but, he's rock-hard gorgeous!" Dana said again.
"Oh yeah, he can be," Monica agreed slipping her car keys into her front pocket.
…He can be?... Dana looked at her again then snorted into another fit of giggles from the implications. …I bet so… She giggled. She had been referring to his rock-hard body, rock-hard shoulders and chest. Not something else.
"Oh my God." Monica quickly realized what she had just implied. "Well. He'd like that now, wouldn't he?" she giggled.
"Oh yeah. Was he good in bed?"
"Dana? For Godsakes."
"Well? Was he?"
"Why? You wanna sleep with him or something?"
"No. But—" …Whoa!... Where had that little comment come from? "I um—No. Good grief."
"Well? You two surely were flirting with each other like hell in there for a couple of—"
"No we weren't."
"Yes you were."
"No we weren't."
"Dana? I was standing right there. And I know a flirt when I see one. Especially when—Jeez." …It's happening between my lover and my ex. Jeez...
"Hah. No we weren't. We were—"
"Dana. You were flirting with him."
Dana stood their quietly for a few seconds thinking about it. "Hum. Well. Maybe. I guess. Maybe a little. I don’t know. I liked him. He's—"
"A sweetie pie."
"Yeah," Dana agreed then bit on her lower lip rolling her eyes. …Good grief!… To think she had been flirting with Monica's ex-boyfriend. …For Crissakes... He had to have been a good man for her to warm up to him so quickly. No. Actually, she had just admired his sense of loyalty and friendship towards Monica. He was a good man. And she had sensed that, almost immediately.
"Well, as long as you two weren't discussing a threesome, cause I am not gonna go down that road, especially with my ex. Shit!"
"Oh, don’t be silly, Monica. Gosh, I wouldn't—Monica? I was just making an observation. He's gorgeous! Stunningly handsome! And it's rare for me to think that of a man."
"Okay," Monica smiled then took Dana's hand and then began to lead them out of her bedroom, down the hallway and towards the staircase. She wasn't jealous, just intrigued with Dana's openness about her scrutiny and observations towards Eric.
"Well what?" Monica furrowed her brow.
"Was he good in bed?"
"Hah. Dana? For Godsakes."
"Well? Was he?"
"Why do you care?"
"It's been a while, since I've had a man, and—"
"I don't know."
"No. More, concerned, I think."
"Concerned? About what?"
"Well. You like men."
"Monica? You might—"
"Honey? A man's cock is nothing to get all excited about, alright? At least not in my opinion. Jeez." She locked the French doors in front of her then led the little redhead back into the kitchen. "I've had enough cock in my life to do me for a while anyway, alright? No more. Jeez."
Dana arched an eyebrow at her then guffawed with laughter. "Well, my, my. Okay. Good. I am so glad to hear that. I've been a little—"
"Honey? Shhh," Monica pulled her close in her arms then whispered into her ear, "Baby, you are everything I need. Okay? Everything. You're little hand and fingers fit inside of me just fine," she teased her, winking at her, kissed her, then led them into the living room.
"Aw. Okay," Dana practically blushed. "Oh wow. Oh. Wait a minute." She stopped.
"I left something upstairs."
"Well okay, go get it, while I get the car, and pull it around."
Dana then skipped back up the stairs in route for her little touchstone while Monica left for the carport in route for her big SUV parked inside.
After about a minute Dana opened the front door, smiled, then locked the door behind her, then hopped off the front porch making a beeline for the waiting vehicle idling just in front of Monica's mailbox.
Monica giggled, opening the passenger's side door for her, from her side of the big vehicle. The little redhead then hopped in just as she leaned over to give her another kiss.
"Yeah. Ready." Dana grinned. Yep. She was ready to go out on the town and enjoy life for a change.
"Okay, baby. Buckle up and settle in, cause we're gonna go for a little Nightlife, in Cajun Town," the brunette chuckled.
Finally they were on their way to Cajun Town for some of the best Nightlife, Blues, Music, Dancing, Gay Bars and Cajun-Creole cuisine in Southern Louisiana.