Headers in Part 1
Rating: NC-17
THURSDAY
Having arrived home before Bobby, Lindsay decided to spend the time, awaiting his return, packing. She got as far as placing her case on the bed before realizing, without knowing their destination, she had no idea what to put in it. While, up to this point, she has found the suspense mildly amusing, she is now well and truly annoyed. The very idea of not yet being packed and ready goes against her nature. It isn't like her to leave things to the last minute and she can't help believing that, in rushing it, she'll miss something important that, had he allowed her a week to plot and plan, would never have been overlooked. Bobby is in for a serious tongue lashing when he gets home and not the kind that he'll enjoy either.
In a last ditch attempt to discover their destination, Lindsay, again, searches the apartment only to find nothing. She's just about pulling her hair out in frustration when she hears the sound of their front door and hurries out to meet Bobby, her fury building with each purpose filled stride. The rat has the nerve to smile endearingly at her as she rounds the corner, holding up a pizza box as if it's the holy grail... actually, it smells really good. She'd forgotten how hungry foraging makes her.
Before she has a chance to say a word, Bobby's brushing his lips over her cheek and walking towards the kitchen, saying, "C'mon, I'm starved."
Lindsay turns and follows him, "Bobby, we are going on vacation tomorrow..."
"Yeah, I know," he says, grinning over his shoulder, "I can't wait, can you?"
She's all ready to start her diatribe but his question stops her short as she feels her answer well up inside her. "I can't wait either," she says, feeling herself smiling at him in return. Her face is starting to ache from all the smiling she's done this week; any minute now, she expects her features to instigate a mutiny, saying that they didn't sign on for this type of treatment.
"Bobby, where are we going?" she asks as they fall into their time-perfected routine in the kitchen. She watches him reach up to the cupboard for the plates, then turn and smile at her. Sensing he isn't going to answer her questions, she says, trying to avoid whining, "I need to know so that I can pack."
Laying the plates and napkins on the table, he pulls out her chair, before turning to take the drinks that she hands to him. He places them beside their plates as he says, "We're not packing now, we're eating, so you don't need to know yet."
Lindsay's about to protest when Bobby flips open the pizza box revealing her favorite. Eyes opening in delight, mouth watering, her attention is suddenly diverted from their conversation to their meal, almost spellbound, she moves to take her seat.
Bobby takes a seat as Lindsay serves them each a slice. She looks up at him, to say thanks but he grins at her and says, "You're so easy to please."
Punching his arm softly, she retorts, "Like you'd know."
He acts horrified, but his hunger soon wins out over theatrics and he, too, turns his attention to their meal. "Talk to me," he mumbles around a mouthful.
Lindsay looks at him sternly and says, "Bobby, my present opinion of you... I don't think that you'd really want to know."
His face shows surprise but his eyes are pure delight, "What? Even after I bought ~your~ pizza?"
She smiles cagily and nods, at least one of them has the manners not to talk with their mouths full, besides, if he keeps yakking away then, for a change, she may manage to get the extra slice.
~~~~~~~
Having avoided telling Lindsay of their destination during dinner, and continued to evade it as they had tidied up afterwards, Bobby has run out of time and excuses, at least as far as Lindsay is concerned. They need to start packing and they need to start now! Enough is enough and his assertion that his silence isn't stopping her from packing, is getting beyond tiring.
"Bobby, how am I supposed to pack if you give me no details?" Lindsay says for the tenth time, each one having been louder than the last.
"I'll pack for you," Bobby replies as if it is the most brilliant suggestion ever.
Lindsay laughs derisively, her face telling him exactly what she thinks about that idea. "Bobby, please!" she begs, "You've had your fun but this isn't funny anymore. It's late and we need to pack, tonight... now."
"Okay, then lets pack together."
"What?"
"I'll put something in my case and then you put something similar into yours," he says as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Not at all impressed with that idea, Lindsay says, "Or... you could just tell me where we are going."
"Or I could... not."
"Arrghhhh," she growls frustrated with his mulishness.
Taking her hand, Bobby tries to lead her from the room, "C'mon let's go pack, it will be fun."
Digging her heels in, trying not to let him drag her, she insists, "Not until you tell..."
Lindsay doesn't get to finish her demand as Bobby picks her up, puts her over his shoulder in a fireman's hold and, much to her disgust, begins carrying her down the hallway. When, despite her insistence he do so, Bobby doesn't lower her, Lindsay tries another tactic. It really is his own fault, hanging over his shoulder like that, she was given an inspiring view of his ass and just had to reach out and touch it. Allowing her hand to drop, she snakes her fingers under his waistband and along his skin until they are curved over his cheek, then gratingly trails her nails along the tender skin as she withdraws her hand. Bobby's laughter soon turns into a loud exclamation and she's unceremoniously lowered to the ground again.
"Minx!" he declares when their laughing eyes meet.
"Brute!" she retaliates.
Stepping into her personal space, he grins as his mouth lowers to hers. They'd stopped less than a foot away from the bedroom doorway, so continue the rest of the way as they kiss, only breaking contact when Lindsay's knees hit the bed and she tumbles to the mattress. Bobby follows her down onto the bed and lies beside her as they resume their previous activity. When they again break, only this time for air, Lindsay purrs, "I thought we were packing."
"I am packing," Bobby leers as he rolls onto her.
Lindsay laughs loudly when the evidence of his claim is presented. "Bobby, at this rate, we'll be getting on the plane tomorrow without taking any clothes at all."
"And this would be a problem, why?" he teases.
Pushing him up, she commands him to obey. Smiling smugly, he rises from the bed and reaches his hand out to help her up, "Ready?"
"You're really still not going to tell me?" Lindsay asks as she rises.
"I'm really still not going to tell you."
Lindsay gives him a vexed look that fails in its attempt to show annoyance, when she breaks into giggles before he'd been suitably chagrined. Damn him for enjoying this so much that she just can't stay mad at him. "Fine," she groans.
Grinning, Bobby walks to the cupboard, pulls out his case and lays it on the bed beside hers. Opening his, he then goes to a bureau drawer, rummages for a few seconds before turning and depositing a week's worth of socks and underwear into his case. Finished with his task he looks at Lindsay expectantly. Shaking her head and huffing dramatically, she turns to the bureau. Five minutes later, she returns to the bed to place her items into her case, ignoring Bobby's none-too-subtle exasperated look at his watch. Just because he grabbed the first items he touched doesn't mean she has to. No, she's not going to be rushed in this. She'll remind him on their last day, when he doesn't have a clean pair of socks left that don't clash with his outfit, that a little extra time and thought could have prevented such a calamity.
Seeing that Lindsay is ready for the next step, Bobby begins collecting clothing. He returns with a mix of T-shirts, cotton shirts, jeans, shorts and lightweight pants.
'Yay, warmer weather' Lindsay thinks, it is the only thing that has kept her sane this week, the thought of again becoming acquainted with the sun. She walks to the wardrobe and returns with a pair of jeans, a couple of T-shirts and three blouses. Bobby's mouth opens in surprise when that's all she places in the case until she returns to the wardrobe. This time he hears hangers being shuffled and curiosity has him walking over to stand behind her. Lindsay looks over her shoulder and smiles, she hands him two skirts and returns to choosing items. Turning back to him, she holds up two summer dresses, offering him a choice, leaving his choice with him, she returns the other and continues shuffling through some more. After three more dresses are chosen, she seems happy with her load and takes them from Bobby before placing them in her case.
Lindsay can't help smiling at the thought of a week without business suits, a chance to relax in softer, more feminine clothing. It always gives her a sense of freedom and sensuality to dress like a woman. Without her weekday armor it's easy to leave Lawyer Lindsay behind. She's ready to ditch her for a week, and can't wait for the chance to just be herself for a while. She wonders if Bobby will even recognize her without her work clothes on. It seems that long since they've done anything but work together. The excitement builds as she realizes that this time tomorrow they'll be where ever this elusive place he's taking her is.
"We done?" Lindsay asks. Bobby shakes his head, looking from her case to his. "What?" she asks, unsure what exactly he's looking at. Bobby walks towards her with a serious expression on his face; Lindsay feels anxiety creep in as he takes her hand in his, looks at her with compassion and says her name in a soothing, consoling voice. "What!?" she asks again.
"You do know that we are only going away for a week, right?" he asks.
"Bobby! You scared the hell out of me," she says, pushing him away. He smiles as he again looks at her case and shakes his head. "Shut up," she grins, then adds, "If I knew exactly where we were going, I might eliminate some things, as I don't, I have to cover all possibilities."
"Nice try," he laughs, then looking at her case again, says, "Surprisingly, there is something missing."
"Oh, and what's that then?" she asks.
"You'll see," he tells her and turns again to rummage through his drawers.
This time when he returns he holds swim wear in front of himself and shimmies across the room humming. Lindsay rolls her eyes at his comical performance. "Is it getting hot in here or what?" he asks when he stands in front of her.
Lindsay giggles, mumbles, "Maybe when compared to Alaska," as she takes them out of his hands, dropping them into his case.
He pouts and she steps forward, drapes her arms over his neck and purrs, "You are the hottest, sexiest, silliest man I know."
He grins and they look at one another, his arms wrapped around her back as their smiles raise and fall, a hundred conversations passing in a moment of silent enjoyment.
"Your turn," Bobby says waggling his eyebrows as he steps out of the embrace.
Lindsay walks to the bureau drawer and returns with a one-piece suit that she places in her case, then looks at Bobby for his next move.
"You're kidding?" he screws up his nose and shakes his head.
"What?" she asks, surprised by his reaction
"We're going on a holiday not trying out for the Olympic swim team."
"That's the only suit I have, Bobby, so if you don't like it, I just won't go swimming with you." She's annoyed with him now, like his suit was anything to write home about.
Bobby rubs her arm apologetically, then walks to her drawer, shuffles a few items around until he finds what he was looking for. "Now this... this is holiday swimwear, Linds" he says holding out a bikini, totally unashamed at demonstrating his knowledge of the item even though she knows that she'd never shown it to him.
Lindsay stares at the scraps of material in his hands, knowing that there is no way she'll ever go out in public in that suit again. It was once a favorite but she hasn't worn it in a long time and couldn't possibly wear it now. There was a time when she would have loved to wear it for him, it's a flattering suit, or it once was because she certainly cannot say that anymore. "Bobby, I can't wear that," she tells him quietly, suddenly all the joy has been sucked out of the moment as he holds before her a reminder of the person she'll never be again. She doesn't even know why she has kept it, why she tortures herself by holding on to the past like that.
She hears Bobby saying, "Sure you can, you'll look incredible," and looks up at him. He's smiling broadly and she can see the curiosity and desire in his eyes.
Knowing how much he longs to see her in it, she considers, for a second, that she could, before the emotions steam roll her. "I can't!" she says more forcefully.
"Why not?"
Lindsay looks at him, she doesn't want to feel the emotions that he's causing to resurface and becomes angry with him. Why should she have to explain? She'll wear what she wants, when she wants, who is he to tell her differently? "Bobby! Just forget it," she says stepping away from him, not wanting to discuss it further.
Realizing that she's distressed, he softens his tone, dropping his arm to his side, he asks, "Lindsay? What's going on?"
"Nothing, we're packing," she replies pushing past him to place more items in her case.
"Why are you angry?"
"You know why," she insists.
"I don't."
She looks at him in disbelief and says, "I have scars and you... you want me to wear that!"
Bobby's mouth opens in surprise, then taking a step towards her, he says, "Lindsay, don't you know how beautiful you are?"
Although she tries to push him away, when his arms surround her, she finds that she wants him to stay. She sighs as she allows him to hold her, her own arms not quite able to rise to return the gesture, instead they clutch at his shirt as she listens to the rapid beat of his heart. His opinion of her isn't her concern, if there's one thing she is sure of, it's that Bobby likes what he sees when he looks at her, but she knows that he is biased. Looking at her he doesn't only see a body, he sees their history too and their future. He looks at her with love's eyes; blind to the truth, to flaws and the aversion of reality. As wonderful as that is, it isn't a balm or protection from the perceptions of others.
Those are the eyes she's hiding from, the ones that are more critical in their assessment of her, which, upon seeing her then turn to the side as their owners mutter disparagingly and draw further attention to her. She knows that it is exaggerated but the vision she sees has her stepping onto the beach only to have the lively chatter instantly still into hushed silence, then secretive murmurs, while she, mortified, walks by. She doesn't want this for herself and she doesn't want it for Bobby. The thought that he may then look at her with eyes no longer blinded to the truth terrifies her.
Lindsay feels herself being walked forward and is too busy trying to fight off her emotions to put up any resistance. Bobby's body slides down hers as he sits on the bed and holds her before him. She looks down at him and meets his concerned eyes. Shaking her head, she whispers, "Bobby, I can't. I'm sorry but I just can't," and hates the disappointment that she sees on his face.
His hands begin undoing the buttons on her blouse, working their way up, they stop low enough to only expose her abdomen. Parting the material, his hands slide along the marks that he has uncovered, he looks at her again and asks, "Why?"
"Why, what?" she challenges.
"Talk to me," he pleads and she sighs, knowing that the conversation can no longer be avoided.
A lone tear escapes her tight hold and slowly trickles down her face as she quietly says, "I don't want to be seen."
Sighing, Bobby leans forward and rests his forehead against her chest; his lips trail along the pale lines crisscrossing her stomach. "I don't understand why not, they're nothing to be ashamed of, Lindsay," he says having anointed each one with a kiss.
"I'm not," she declares, her body tensing as she pushes him away.
Bobby looks up at her, the distress evident in his eyes. Lindsay knows that the lie is wasted on him because he doesn't believe her, knows, too, that he is hurt by having asked her to talk to him only to be pushed away. She has been that person; the one watching the other suffer in silence, alone, and doesn't want that for him. Softening her stance and tone, she concedes, "Well, not really."
Bobby draws her back between his legs, guiding her as she sits on his knee. With his right arm supporting her, his left continues to play across her skin, hoping to show her that there is nothing there that he doesn't love. "I don't know what's going on, Lindsay," he looks at her pleadingly, and asks, "Explain it to me?"
She looks down at his hand as it crosses her skin, "I don't... I don't want pity," she replies before, again, meeting his eyes.
"What? Pity? You?" Bobby almost laughs at the idea but the stricken look on Lindsay's face prevents it.
"When people look at me, when they see this..." her hand waves towards her stomach, "it's in their eyes, Bobby, they..."
"Who?"
Momentarily thrown by the question, she narrows her eyes, then, shaking her head, responds, "Just... people."
Not satisfied, Bobby asks, "Like who? Your doctors? The nurses?"
"No, but they're used to this, they've seen worse, it's their life."
"Well, who?" he insists, then nervously adds, "Not me?"
"No, Bobby, not you," she assures him with a grateful smile, "Never you."
"Well, who are these people, Lindsay? It isn't like you show anyone..." When she still offers no names, he tries guessing again, "Helen?"
"No."
"Your parents?"
"No," she replies, her annoyance becoming obvious but Bobby persists, questioning on.
"Someone from the office?"
Angry, Lindsay pushes off of him and walks away. "No!"
"Who then?"
Turning to face him she shouts, "No one, all right!"
"Exactly!" Bobby says triumphantly.
"That means nothing, Bobby. Those people know me, strangers don't, I just don't want to wear that damn bikini, I..."
Standing, he says, "Forget the bikini, Lindsay, this isn't about that." His words stop her mid-argument and she stares at him. "It's about how you feel," he says, then remorsefully adds, "and that I never knew."
"Well, now you do," she snaps.
Bobby looks down at the floor, trying to decide what to say next, what can he possibly say to get through to her? When Lindsay's defenses are up, she's an impenetrable wall. He hates to see her hurting and can't believe that she has held this in the whole time. When he looks up again, she's turned her back to him but he doesn't need to see her face to see her misery. Now that it has been pointed out, he realizes that there are a lot of things that she used to do that she hasn't returned to since the stabbing. He wonders how many are as a result of not enough time and how many because of some unspoken fear or emotion. He realizes, too, how much he has let her down by not giving her the chance to talk about it. It had been too painful for him to face, but had he known that, in not doing so, he was adding to hers, by God, he would have tried. It's just, she always seems so in control, it always surprises him to learn that she isn't.
Sighing, he walks to her, wraps his body around hers and whispers, "I'm so sorry." What exactly he's apologizing for, he isn't sure, most likely a number of things, some of which he may never know, but what he does know is that he is always sorry to see her cry. Nothing can tear at his heart as much as her anguished tears do. He'd do anything to avoid them and hates it when he is the one who has driven her to them.
Lindsay turns in his arms and holds him tight. With her face buried against his chest, she whispers, "Me too."
They hold one another as her tears flow, then ease. Though neither is truly aware of it, their bodies gently sway in rhythm with his softly murmured assurances. When Lindsay appears calmer, Bobby pulls away and, guiding her by the hand, leads her back to the bed. When she's seated, he kneels before her, holding her hands in his. He's had very little time to think about his next move and can only hope that he is about to do the right thing. There isn't time for planning and careful consideration because Lindsay needs him now. He needs to trust that his instincts are right and that he isn't about to make things worse. Placing a tender, lingering kiss against her stomach, he looks up at her and asks, "Do you want to know what I see when I look at them?"
Lindsay nods, and Bobby sees the desire in her eyes for him to make this better, for him to make this pain go away. Looking directly into her eyes, praying that she sees his conviction, he says, "I see determination, I see a fighter, I see someone who'll never give up chasing what she wants no matter how hard it gets..."
"How?" she asks doubtfully, her voice is a whisper-soft breath.
Surprised by the question, Bobby asks, "How, what?"
"How do you see that..." placing their joined hands on her stomach, she adds, "here?
"You're alive, aren't you?" Bobby says as if it's a fait accompli. When he sees the question, still, in her eyes, he looks down to her scars then up again, "There is the proof, Lindsay, of how hard you'll fight to stay alive."
"That wasn't me," she sighs.
Bobby sees disappointment and resignation wash over her. Her hope and faith in him is lost as her doubt begins to win out. He tugs on her hand, bringing her attention back to him, "Of course it was," he insists.
"Bobby, I had nothing to do with... I survived because of luck, not through anything I did but, because I was found in time and the doctors were able to save me."
"No," he drawls shaking his head, "I don't believe that."
"You don't believe the doctors...?"
"I don't believe ~you~ had nothing to do with it."
"I didn't," she insists, her aggravation rising again.
Frustration wins out over tact for Bobby as he asks, "Did you want to die, Lindsay?"
Stunned, she stares at him a moment, before promising, "No! Of course not."
Bobby pauses, unsure whether to ask his next question, but she looks at him so expectantly that he knows he has to. "When you... when you were... alone, before I came... did you think that... maybe... you were... going to...."
He can't bring himself to say it but Lindsay answers, "Yes," anyway. Her voice breaks on that one tiny word as tears build and fall.
Bobby's eyes close, his argument forgotten as he imagines what went through her mind while she'd lain there believing that she would die. He can't imagine it, the terror that she must have felt as her life slipped from her grasp, the agony as it bled from her, as she lay there, dying, alone... afraid, confused, hurt, desperate... It's too much for him to imagine and yet it's something that she lived through. How? If he weren't so afraid to know the answer it's something he would have asked. The thought of what she went through is a nightmare to him, he can't bring himself to mention it because, to hear how she felt would make it too real, would make it impossible for him to pretend that it didn't happen, that it wasn't as bad as he believes, that she didn't go through what he fears she did.
Needing to stop the thoughts, he takes a deep breath, calming his voice so that he can help her, not scare her further. He'd had a point he had been trying to make, somewhere, back there. As it comes back to him, his eyes open and more calmly then he feels, he says, "You tried to get to the phone because you were determined not to die... you tried to save yourself, right?"
"Yes, but..."
Not wanting a rebuttal, and needing to ask this while he still has the nerve to, Bobby cuts her off. "Do you remember what you were thinking?"
Lindsay takes a breath as she thinks about it, "Not really, I remember hurting, I remember hearing the phone and trying to get to it... the answering machine... Helen's voice, although that might be wrong, I was speaking to her earlier so I could be confusing that..." her eyes drift shut as she allows the memory to take over, " I... I remember hearing a voice say that I was dying, dying and thinking, 'No... just get to the phone, get help,'... I almost got it, maybe halfway there, but when I rose up I fell and I knew.... I knew that I couldn't... I couldn't get up again... it had taken too much. I remember black... everything was black and I thought... I thought, 'I can't stop this,'... I remember I was sinking into it, no matter how much I tried not to... then your voice... I heard your voice and was being moved..." Lindsay's eyes open again as she looks at him, "I saw your face..." her hand strokes over his beloved features as she continues, "... and I thought... I thought, 'It's okay, now. I wont die, Bobby's here, I won't die,' ... then, then... so tired and black... I just remember black."
Bobby smiles at her through his tears, and whispers, "See!"
"See what?"
"You made up your mind that help was coming and decided that you weren't going to die."
"I thought it, yeah, but Bobby...."
"Lindsay, you should have died at least five times after that but each time you fought it and pulled through." He raises a little higher and holds her in a close embrace, needing a moment to compose himself from the thought of what could have been; the horror of a life without her. Taking a deep breath, he pulls back again and smiles at her as his hand raises to push her hair behind her ear, giving himself an unobstructed view.
Lindsay lays her cheek against his palm, feeling his strength, relishing his love as his voice, again, fills her with hope.
"I know you, Lindsay, and once you've made up your mind about something, no ones going to get in your way. You decided you'd live and fought tooth and nail to survive..." dropping his hand to her stomach, he says, "here's the proof, Lindsay, right here. You can't deny it, it's here, you can't deny it."
"Bobby, I..." Lindsay begins, then stops, unsure what it is that she wants to say. Bobby looks at her with such complete faith that she doesn't know how she can say that what he believes is wrong, and the more that she thinks about it, why should she? He isn't the first to say this to her. In fact, in the days immediately after awakening, she was told a number of times that her body had been through an ordeal that, by all rights, should have killed her. She'd been constantly told to stop pushing, to stop fighting, that now her work was done and she needs to give herself time to heal. She'd heard terms like 'miraculous' and 'phenomenal' bandied around but had taken them as platitudes made merely to bolster her spirits and not the truth. The truth had been that she was so afraid about what had occurred that she'd been determined to push harder, desperate to move on, to recover faster and forget it ever happened. She's yet to forget and the more she's pushed her emotions away, the further from recovery she's become. Concentrating on the physical scars had helped her ignore the emotional ones. The truth is, the physical effects are fading while the emotional grows ever stronger.
Needing to see this truth, Lindsay, almost unconsciously, rises and walks to the mirror. Undoing the remaining buttons on her shirt, she allows it to slide off as she looks at the lines marring her skin, seeing them, now, in a new light. She runs her fingers along the marks, at first, super softly like Bobby does, then harder and harsher each time, pressing into them and discovering that she feels no pain. "I did, didn't I?" she all but whispers, surprised as she watches them shrink in size before her eyes. Those big, ugly, angry welts that she pictures in her mind's eye don't, in fact, exist. Yes, she still has scars but... so what? Who doesn't?
Bobby appears behind her, their eyes meet in the mirror and she sees his love reflected back at her. She smiles at him while a tear slowly slides down her cheek. Leaning in, Bobby catches it with his lips; his hand rests over hers as it continues to journey over her skin. Together they traverse the ridges and trails of puckered lines on super-soft skin. For the first time, Lindsay sees her scars, not as evidence of her fallibility, not as the wounds of a victim, but as testament to her spirit; talismans she can turn to that say, 'I've conquered this, I can conquer anything.' She wants so desperately to believe that and, at this precious moment, she does. She's been to hell and back but the journey didn't defeat her.
Bobby's lips press against her bare shoulder, then, again, looking into the eyes of her reflection, he softly says, "I love them, Lindsay. I hate the circumstance, hate that you have to have them and that you're hurting, but these... I love them. When I see them... every time I see them, I'm reminded of how proud I am of you. You're so strong and, Lindsay, that's what people will see, what they ~do~ see, when they look at you. Your strength... it outshines everything, no ones going to pity you, no one could pity you. One look at you and... God, Lindsay, you're so incredible... it's admiration that you'll see in their eyes... admiration."
Smiling, she turns in his arms; her hands cradle his face as she raises her lips to his. Gratitude and love are whispered between each tender kiss. Backing towards the bed, Lindsay draws Bobby with her. The mood is sensually serene as she lowers herself to the mattress, her eyes never leaving his as his face lowers towards her body to place one last open-mouthed kiss to her abdomen.
As Bobby's hands move to brace himself beside her hips, they brush up against her suitcase. He tenderly caresses her mouth with his as he distractedly pushes the case aside to make more room for himself. The sound of his case subsequently crashing to the floor drowns out their hushed, whispered love. Their gaze meets in surprise before breaking as they turn to the source of the disturbance, then meeting again.
Breaking into laughter, Bobby's head drops to Lindsay's chest as he lies there and grumbles, "And I thought I was all done with packing."
Giggling, she runs her fingers through his hair and teases, "No wonder that case is so ratty if you throw it around like that."
With a distressed look on his face, Bobby rises on his elbows and pouts, "Don't laugh at my case, it's old but it's got character."
Lindsay smiles at him, with her hands still entangled in his hair, she guides his face back to hers as she says, "It's beautiful, Bobby, just like you."
"I wouldn't go that far," he laughs, before capturing her mouth with his, stifling her insistent, "I would."
They kiss, long and slow, but as the intensity begins to rise Lindsay pulls away, apologetically she whispers, "Bobby?"
When his eyes look at her with concern, hers drift to the end of the bed then back to him again. Following her action, he sees what's on her mind; with a laugh, he rises and removes her case from the bed, placing it where it will remain safe and in tact. Spying his own jumbled belongings, he takes one step towards them, groans, as he turns and looks at Lindsay, laying in wait for him. No contest. Case forgotten, he walks towards the bed, Lindsay rises on her knees as he approaches. As she kneels on the edge of the bed, her hands move to her hips and a moue of discontentment appears on her face. Adorable, he can barely think straight, wanting so much. He isn't sure what ruse she's pulling now, but if Playful Lindsay has emerged, he is not going to complain.
His head tilts, questioningly, and she sternly says, "You're overdressed," as her hands move to remedy the situation.
"By all means," he chuckles, allowing his hands to hang loose by his sides. It's a struggle not to reach out to her but, tonight, he'll allow her one of her not-so-secret pleasures. He watches her deft fingers make short work of his shirt's buttons. Fumbling, only once, in reaction to a whispered promise from him. Her eyes rise, her face attempting to be stern and to command him to obey, but, finding him looking at her; telegraphing that the promise will be kept, they drop from him as her mouth forms a grin and a delicious flush crosses her skin. Adorable, this delay only makes him want her more, he wants to swallow her whole and never let her go. She's so incredible.
Lindsay's fingers raise to his lips, pressing softly there and he looks at her in surprise, not knowing whether he's spoken aloud or she's just warning him not to. He's pleased to note the trembling of her hand, kisses it softly and nods, he'll behave, it may kill him to do so but he'll behave, right up until the moment when he receives permission not to.
Having, finally, managed a chest bare Bobby - just because it's winter did her really need to be that layered up? - Lindsay's hands move down his body.
Bobby's resolve to be good wanes and, as his hands rise to the waistband of her jeans, they brush hers away, "You are the one overdressed," he says, loving the deep breath she takes as she nods, loving the pebbles appearing over her skin as she shivers, and the look of absolute love in her eyes.
He'd work as slowly and methodically as she had on removing his clothing if it wasn't for the fact that he wants her naked ~now~. After he's slid the jeans down her thighs, Lindsay lays down to enable him to slide them all the way off. She watches as he completes the task of removing his own clothing. Sure, she'd been intending to do that herself, uncovering each part of him with her slow steady hands, feeling his body emerge as his clothing slipped away, but, hey, this isn't bad either. She certainly isn't complaining.
"Enjoying the show?" Bobby asks as he climbs back upon the bed.
"Oooh, yes," she purrs, her hands eagerly caressing his bared skin.
Running his fingers over the silk still covering her body, Bobby grouches, "You're falling behind here." As Lindsay arches her back, to remove her bra, he slides her underwear away. Her arms quickly draw him back to her and their mouths meet as they tenderly kiss; neither is in a hurry to move forward, they're perfectly content with taking their time, exploring and loving.
Bobby's palm runs down her body, from shoulder to knee, then slowly back up again. Feeling its path, Lindsay suspects that her breast is its intended target; her body writhes a little in anticipation, trying to help get him there sooner. The effort is futile, though, because he stops an inch short of the target. His thumb rests in the valley between her breasts while his fingers splay out over her stomach. The pressure from his lips eases as their kisses get lighter and lighter. Their lips are now barely meeting as their smiles brush over one another. Bobby rises a little, shifting his attention from her face to her body, he lays beside her and allows his eyes to roam hungrily over her soon-to-be-replete terrain.
Lindsay watches his eyes as they travel over her; she loves to see their unrestrained reaction to her. The desire she finds in his eyes is a gift to behold; it gives her the strength and confidence to remove all masks and just be her. She feels his hand leave her body and his thumb begin to trace the line dissecting her chest.
His eyes rise to meet hers as he softly says, "I watched them put this here, I felt it in my own as they did." Leaning forward, he trails his lips along the scar. Reaching the end, he lays his head on her abdomen and sighs as his thumb returns to follow the line back up.
Lindsay's eyes close, her scarring is so familiar to her that she can picture his fingers as they trail over her skin. She feels him shifting against her and opens her eyes to see his face returning to hers. Lying beside her, he draws her closer until they're facing one another. His fingers slide into her hair, while his thumb remains on her cheek, softly stroking there. "I thought, as I watched them cut into you... I couldn't see how you could survive... there was so much blood... too much... I... I was watching you die." Wiping a tear from her cheek, he continues, "They were shocking your body and I... I thought this is too much, it's too hard, I wanted them to stop hurting you... but I needed you to live, whatever... I would have let them do anything... I felt your life slip away... and... and, I felt mine try and follow, my life with your life..."
"Nooo," she says, horrified at the thought of Bobby without life and of the anguish he must have gone through because of her.
"I offered it, I did, I told God that he could have mine if he'd spare yours."
"Well, I'm glad He didn't agree."
Bobby nods and moves so his forehead rests against hers, "I made so many promises to Him, Lindsay, I was so desperate, so lost without you... there wasn't anything I wouldn't have done."
"I know, Bobby, and I felt you there."
"Not enough." When he feels Lindsay tense in his arms, Bobby pulls away enough to see her face, finding hurt there he realizes that she's misconstrued what he meant, "No, I mean me, Lindsay... ~I~ wasn't there enough."
"What are you talking about?" she feels a little grin arising as she teases, "I couldn't get rid of you."
Bobby smiles at her, remembering her frustration over always having him hover one step behind. He shakes his head slightly and says, "That was after, I mean before... when I didn't know if you would... Everyone kept telling me to stay with you, but... I couldn't do it, Lindsay, I couldn't just watch you like that."
"It's okay," she whispers, hating the anger she sees him direct at himself.
He shakes his head again, "No, it isn't, not really..."
"Bobby!" she purrs, moving in closer and kissing his down-turned lips. "Please don't..."
"I thought... I believed that you wouldn't... if I wasn't there, you'd hold on, you wouldn't die without me, you wouldn't let me get that phone call..."
"Really?" she asks, surprised.
Bobby grins, it had made sense at the time, he doesn't doubt though that it sounds silly now, "It was one of several theories I was running... like I said, Lindsay, I was desperate... besides I did get the call, I ... they said to come quick and I thought... God, I was terrified I'd be too late... but you pulled through again, I stayed after that..." he looks intently at her and whispers, "you scared me so much."
Lindsay sighs, she looks at him, running her hands soothingly over him as she contemplates what he's admitted, with a little smile she says, "Maybe you were right, maybe I wouldn't... I couldn't, without saying good-bye to you."
Bobby shakes his head, if his theory was right or wrong it doesn't matter to him anymore, guilt has won out now. "I still should have been there for you, Lindsay, as much as it hurt, I owed you that much after..."
"Bobby, you did what you needed to do, who says you have to be there all the time, you did what was right for you, there's no rule that says..."
"You would."
"I would what?"
"Be there, refuse to leave. If it was me, you'd stay, wouldn't you?"
Lindsay shakes her head as tears begin to fall, "I... Bobby, I don't even want to think about it, please..."
"Shhh," he kisses her, long and soft, promising that she doesn't have to, apologizing for having brought it up until he feels her desperation ease. Resting his head beside hers, they lay comfortable in each other's embrace.
Bobby's hand travels lower, until it rests over her scars and he looks deeply into her eyes. Lindsay knows that he'd heal her if he could, she doesn't doubt that for a second. He has always been so attentive towards these marks, in the past, she'd thought it was to ease her concern. She'd put it down to Bobby being sweet and, although she hadn't always appreciated the act, she'd loved him for his intent and had never called him on it for fear of hurting him. She'd never told him that sometimes she had wished he'd just let her forget they existed, that sometimes she had wished she could come to him as a woman who is still whole, still untainted and beautiful. Remembering his earlier words, hearing now what they actually mean to him and seeing them through his eyes, his tender touches take on a far more worshipful mien. Knowing now that it is love and not pity that draws him to them, she feels herself longing for his touch. Although his hand rests on her now, he isn't 'touching' her, his hand is still as his eyes speak of uncertainty and regret.
"What is it, Bobby?" Lindsay asks.
"I'm sorry, I should have been there sooner," he says, "If I hadn't been running late..."
"No! God, Bobby, no." Her hands quickly rise to his face. Eyes determined to convey her message, she says, "There are a lot of 'should haves' that would change the circumstances of that night, but they're useless, Bobby. They're a waste of your time... and mine. The fact is you arrived in time to save me, the fact is I owe ~you~ my life. Bobby, you say it's my determination that allowed me to survive but that would have amounted to nothing if you hadn't arrived when you did. So, please... no regrets. Bobby, you saved me and that's all that matters, no 'should haves'..."
"I saved you?" he asks, a look of wonder on his face and she knows that he's never accepted that before, having been too focussed on blaming himself for the situation, he'd never believed himself responsible for her survival.
"Yes, you did," she insists and watches as a little of the guilt begins to fade away.
Slowly he says, "Isn't there some rule... that says, if you save someone's life... then they belong to you, for life?"
"I think it's the other way around," Lindsay grins.
"Couldn't be," Bobby says, loving seeing her smile.
"Bobby?"
"Yes?"
"Have I ever told you that you talk too much?"
Bobby laughs at the question, spoken in such a serious tone. He lowers his body to hers as they kiss. "You belong to me," he whispers as their mouths separate to pursue other delicacies.
"So that's why you're so bossy," she teases.
He grins at her as he asks, "Yeah, so what's your excuse?"
"Mmmm... maybe that you belong to me."
Unable to argue with that, Bobby proceeds to show her just how true her words are, how much he loves this body that fought so hard to return to him, this heart that treasures him and this mind that challenges him everyday. As his lips adorn her neck, he hears her whispering, "So alive." Unsure if he has heard right, he looks at her questioningly.
Lindsay smiles at him, her hand moving from his back to run over his neck, brush his cheek, then bury itself in his hair. Drawing his face slowly towards hers, she vows, "You, Bobby, make me feel... so alive!"
Smiling, Bobby kisses her, their mouths offering tender promises; words of love and gratitude that punctuate the reverential motions of their bodies. They feel their bond that lately they've allowed to falter, reform stronger and more treasured than ever before and tell each other so, in voice, in motion, over and over. Lindsay promises to never let him go, to be his always, with him always and love him always. The final vow culminating in a kiss that seemingly lasts for eternity, ending only when Bobby's body sinks completely over her and her breath is pushed out by his weight.
"Over," he whispers and Lindsay's legs move from behind his back allowing him to roll them over. "Show me," he asks and she nods as she pushes up until she is straddling him.
Lindsay smiles as she watches Bobby watching her make love to him. The sensations caused by his body, in hers, is almost surpassed by the wonder of his gaze. She feels it, like a caress, trail over her skin. Everywhere that he looks sets her skin on fire as it yearns for more. Feeling overwhelmed, Lindsay focusses her attention on where they're joined; their bodies meeting thrust for thrust, their fingers entwined and holding tight. It doesn't register when her eyes close as the vision of his body is imprinted on her mind. Her other senses are filled by him and sense memory provides the view.
Bobby's hand untangles from hers and slowly slides along her leg, up, up her body, before coming to rest below her breast. She leans into his touch, feels the sparks everywhere he has been and craves more. Her whispered entreaties garner results, his hand cups her breast while his thumb and forefinger close on her nipple with a pinch that sends a jolt shooting through her body, making her bear down on him hard as she cries for more. Her eyes fly open and meet his, devouring them as her mind is torn between sensations and begins to spiral out of control. Her body, shaking and frenzied speeds up its motions.
The hand that Bobby had been resting on her knee, slowly moves along her leg, its intended destination screaming for its arrival. But Bobby pauses when he reaches her thigh, softly caressing her heated skin, tenderly, infuriatingly, not quite there. He grins at her groan and moves on to where she longs for him to be, with his hand, now, between her thighs he mimics the hand still working her breast; rubbing, pinching, soothing, again and again, until stars are all that she sees in her eyes. With each fall she pushes harder against him, crying out her joy, with each rise her breath is pushed out of her as longing takes it's place. Her body surges higher and higher, her incoherent cries, "I... oh... Bo... oh... God! ... uh... Bob... eeeeeee," are music to his ears.
Lindsay's mind, unable to decide where to be and what to do, gives up as her body explodes, in a torrent of emotion, before collapsing, spent, onto Bobby. They kiss feverishly before, finding new strength, Lindsay rolls to her back, drawing Bobby with her and inflaming his release. Eyes devouring him as his features contort in passion, gloriously, uncontrollably lost in her body, her name, his love, pouring from his lips as he finds salvation in her, again and again. She feels him shoot into her, feels him fill all the spaces in her heart, fill the gaping wounds that only he can erase. Holds him tightly as his body trembles, shudders, then stills, sinking onto her as his mouth seeks hers out. Tongues tangle, desperate to share their bliss. Slick wet bodies, with no desire to separate, cling and slide, refusing to part.
Sated, they lay beside one another, their faces mere inches apart. Lindsay brushes Bobby's wet cheek with her finger and whispers, "No tears."
"I'm not," he insists.
Smiling, she cuddles in closer, placing her hand in his, her eyes drifting shut as she says, "Then neither am I."
Bobby lifts his head so that their mouths can seal the deal, then relaxes back against his pillow, drawing their fingers to his lips, allowing exhaustion to win out and sleep to spirit his consciousness away.
~~~~~~~
Bobby wakes to the sound of Lindsay padding around the room, softly humming as drawers open and close, bottles rattle and cases groan as they're filled beyond limit. Opening one eye, he sees it's after 2 a.m. and mumbles, "Lindsay, what are you doing?"
"Packing," she replies with a whisper, not deviating from her task.
Bobby smiles, it's obvious that she's packing, what he'd meant was, why is she doing so now? "You leaving me already?" he quips, and grins at her huffed laugh.
"Yeah, I can't handle the snoring," she replies.
Now that he's awake, Lindsay stops tiptoeing around the room. To Bobby, it feels like he's caught in a whirlwind with the speed she's spinning around him. He rolls to his side to face her, and coaxes the other eye to open so that he can truly enjoy the show. He smiles when she looks across at him and says, "I thought we packed already."
"Only if I wanted to go shoeless for a week, have no toiletries, no..."
"Point taken," he says before she can get started on a tirade. Remembering the state his case was in when last he'd seen it, Bobby sits up, intending to fix it, "I forgot we got a little distracted," he says, swinging his legs out from under the covers.
"I've done yours already," Lindsay says, and Bobby flops back down under the blankets with a relieved smile.
"Thanks," he yawns.
"You can check it in the morning."
"S'fine," he mumbles rolling over and hugging into her pillow. "I trust you."
Lindsay looks at him with a smile, sure, she trusts him too, but no way would that trust include him packing a bag for her. "Well, don't blame me if I've forgotten some manly-man necessity," she says.
Grinning, Bobby mouths, 'Manly man' back at her before he promises to look it over in the morning. He watches as she kneels to place some sweaters in her case and sees the bikini has been placed in there as well.
When Lindsay sees him looking at her, she smiles, but when he doesn't respond she realizes that he's looking past her and turns to follow his line of vision. 'Ahhhh,' she thinks and walks slowly over to the bed. Perching on the edge, she runs her hand over Bobby's back and says, "I'm not making any promises, Bobby. Just because I take it doesn't..."
"Whatever feels right," he says, and looking at him, she sees that he means it.
Grateful, Lindsay leans in and places a kiss on his cheek before returning to her packing. "Don't get too comfortable there," she warns him, seeing him about to fall asleep in her spot.
"With you clamoring around like that, how could I?" he quips and ducks his head under her pillow to avoid any projectiles that she may throw at him. Experience has taught him the benefit of this precaution. He smiles, thinking, this time tomorrow they'll probably be... well, chances are they'll be asleep but they'll be asleep on the West Coast with the best week of their lives ahead of them. Bobby can't wait, and if the humming that Lindsay is doing is any indication, then neither can she.
*~*~*~*
To be continued
Nag me
