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Beth had established another 'backdoor' entrance to Billy's computers - as soon as Sam had departed to the nearest drugstore to purchase various over-the-counter nostrums to cure her non-existant illness, she leaped at the computer to set up yet another annoyance. When she was done, Billy's entire system was set to run, every quarter-hour, "My Heart Will Go On" complete with dialogue. Volume control was not an option - Celine Dion would be barking at the moon full blast. She was back in bed twenty minutes before Sam returned. Sam bustled around the bedroom, bringing water and Tylenol, Pepto Bismol, Maalox, Tums, extra pillows and blankets. He lugged Beth's big television in from the front room, forearms bulging attracively. He had to make yet another trip out, this time to a Radio Shack to purchase a roll of coaxial cable to run from the front room to the bedroom because the cable outlet in the bedroom was inoperative. When he returned, he brought with him a bag of Italian takeout along with the cable. He hooked up the TV, dished out the cheese ravioli and seafood manicotti, stripped to his skivvies and hopped up beside her, He appeared to be happy as a clam. When they had finished eating, Sam gathered up the dishes and hauled them to the kitchen. Beth hesitated, fidgeting briefly, before following him dowm the hall. She knew he was down there, rinsing and stacking the dishes in only his boxers, and she wanted to watch him. She used the sound of the water running to mask her movements. Sam: Git your ass back to bed, there, squirrel. He never looked away from the sink. Beth continued to enjoy the view, watching back and leg muscles smoothly flexing as he moved. Then he made as if to lunge down the hall at her, and she fled. When he had finished and come back to the bedroom he climbed up behind her and placed her between his knees. It was his favorite place to put her and when asked why he said it was because she fit there just right. Beth relaxed fully against him, feeling safe and completely loved. She grabbed the TV listings while he seized the remote. There was a brief tussle, until they decided to co-operate. Beth wanted to watch The X-Files, though she didn't quite get the same benefit with Sam sitting behind her, caressing her and muttering direly in her ear that Mulder and Scully wouldn't have lasted ten minutes in Quantico or anyplace else, for that matter if they were as inept as all that, and that if they were HIS kids they would learn proper police investigative procedure or he would goddam well know the reason why. Terr kept telling him to shut up and banging on his rock-hard thigh for emphasis. Like he felt it. Sam got bored with Mulder and Scully about halfway, his parting shot being that if all federal investigators were such fools the US would right now be a suburb of Moscow. He decided to turn his attention to her, in such a way as to make it immaterial to Beth which political philosophy, or for that matter, carbon based life form was actually in ascendance. For all she cared, the real power in the White House might have been Socks the Cat once Sam started on her in earnest. He kissed her neck and the slope of her shoulder, alternating lightly with lingeringly in such a way that it was difficult for her to remember if she was watching Mulder and Scully or Rocky and Bullwinkle. It was all the same to her once his hands began roaming breasts and belly and lower. She felt him pushing her hair aside to get at the tender patch of skin behind her ear. Beth's hand, draped loosely over the long leg she'd been beating on earlier now tightened on the big muscle of his thigh until her nails dug into his skin. The old fox didn't want to watch The X-Files, moreover he didn't want HER to watch The X-Files, so he was seducing her, and it was working. Something that felt like a stone heated to a pleasant warmth was digging into the small of her back. She wriggled against it and Sam groaned. The last straw came when he reached down, snapped her panties into two damp pieces and threw them aside. That did it. He'd asked for it and now he was gonna get it. She rose on her knees and turned to face him, physically forcing him down onto his back. She skinned her satin camisole over her head and shied it off someplace. And then she fell on him. Billy: Hey...baby, wake up...pass me them chips. The chips were in my lap and if he hadn't been a perverse soul under the best of circumstances, he would have reached across and takem them without waking me up. I was mad as hell at Billy for dragging me along on this fool's errand, mad at Ryan, even pissed off in some obscure way at poor Jade. She might not even have known that Ryan had made off with her pass- port and stuck a picture of me into it, though what INS agent was going to be fooled by the description of a fresh twenty-two year old when faced with tired old middle-aged mother of three me was anybody's guess. I passed them all right. Hard, into his rocky midsection. Billy: Hey, what's this shit? Deb: Your chips. Chow down and leave me alone. Did he actually care one way or the other if I was angry with him? Billy: Bust up these chips I'll take it out of your ass. There was my answer. Deb: Ask me if I care. Let me sleep, fool. I'm trashed. Billy: You been trashed since we left Tommy's. You find that Sour Apple Pucker I left there? Deb: Like we needed to go and check to see if the man was home. No, I haven't been drinking, but I wish I had! I could sleep without you waking me up every five minutes. I'm tired! I haven't had any real rest in at least a week! Now shut up and leave me alone if I'm gonna be worth a fart in a high wind! Billy patted my leg. It felt like a pile driver. Billy: Why stay home when ya c'n come with me? Deb: You want me to make a list? For starters, you don't give a flying shit if I'm with you or not! Billy: What? Deb: You heard me. Billy: Who says I don't give a damn about you? Deb: That's not what I said. I said it wouldn't make a damn bit of difference to you if I came or not. Billy: That's not what you said, either. Shut up and go back t'sleep, ya bother me. Deb: Doesn't matter to me if I sleep in this car or in that frigging CIC back in Lubbock, just so's I do. Billy: Then do it. Shut the hell up and crash. Deb: I think I will. When I woke up again, Billy's hand was on my leg...just there. He allowed it to remain even after seeing that I was awake. Billy: Feelin' better? Deb: A little. But I'm so stiff... I knew that was a mistake the minute it came out of my mouth. Billy: I get stiff, I'll take care of ya. Deb: You are an absolute pig. Billy: And you love it, so don't play that shit game. I covered that quiet and strangely gentle hand with my own. Deb: I guess I must. There are plenty of other places I could be right now and not have to listen to crude sexual innuendo that wouldn't be half as much fun. Billy: Damn straight. Gotcha a McFish. Why d'ya eat these damn things? Deb: Cause you don't. I thought of the one time I had let Billy order me a hamburger. I'd watched, horrified, as Billy dispatched the sandwich in a three or four massive bites. My own sandwich sat, untouched. Mouth full, chewing steadily, Billy had polished off the fries. My food was getting old on my plate. He'd pointed at it, mouth too stuffed to speak. I'd pushed the burger and fries at him without a word, and watched as he'd gone through them with equal rapaciousness. Now I ate fish, chicken, anything I knew he wouldn't bother. Billy: Hah-hah. Here...we're gonna keep goin' until we hit Brownsville or thereabouts. Deb: What about Ryan? He might need to rest. Billy: Gaerity's a goddam machine - he never sleeps. He wants to stop, he'll let me know. You wanna drive for a while? Deb: What I need to do is stretch my legs. Billy: I asked didja wanna drive, not didja need to spread your legs. Deb: I said stretch, you miserable ass, stretch! Billy: I like 'em better spread. Deb: Don't talk to me. Billy's hand sneaked way down the inside of my thigh, and up. I stopped, went completely still. Billy: Damn, sometimes you ain't even any fun, you're so easy... Deb: Here, don't let me interfere with you driving. I snatched his hand out from between my legs and threw it back at the wheel. He slapped it back down, mercilessly squeezing the big muscles as he did. I flung his hand away from me a second time. trying to get him to hit himself in the head with it. Next thing I knew, he had slammed that big paw down and blanketed the area directly below the fly of my 505's. And I was holding it there, feeling the deep-seated itch begin and wondering when I would be able to get it scratched. Billy: You want it, dontcha? Deb: You know the answer, why ask? Billy: I'd swear you were hung up on me or somethin'. I looked at him, suddenly feeling down deep evil. I must have looked it. For a man who didn't scare, Billy did a good imitation of nervous. Then he got control of himself, bore down lightly with the hand. He was laughing at me. He knew what he did to me and how he did it and he thought it was funny as hell. Deb: Take your goddam hand off me, Strannix. Do it now. Billy: Who's gonna make me? Deb: I will. And If I have to I'm gonna do my best to break it before I let go of it. Billy moved his hand. I wanted to snatch it back and press it deep... but he expected that. Billy: You mad at me? What the hell for? Deb: If you don't know, you big ape, I'm sure as hell not gonna waste my time tellin' ya. Ooooh, men hated that. And Billy was more man than any ten I'd met. Billy: Dammit t'hell, woman! What crawled up your ass? Deb: Not all men are stupid but the ones who are more than make up for all the rest! Billy: Now I'm stupid! Deb: Dumb as hell. Stonebrained, even. Billy: You better think about what you just said. Deb: Why? What are you gonna do to change my mind? I'm not one of your stupid Dixies! A smack in the butt and a quick poke in the back seat won't fool me! Billy: Now ya lost me! What the hell are you talkin' about? And what have you got against the back seat? It's leather! Deb: You are such a godawful idiot! Did it ever occur to you that there might be some normal woman out there with brains in her head and no silicone in her tits that might be colossally stupid enough to fall in love with you?? Billy: What's not to love? Deb: You self important shit! You concieted bastard! You are a USDA top grade jerk! You take everything and you don't give anything back! You're worse than a sponge! You can wring a sponge out! Billy: What the hell! The woman gets me, ain't that enough? What more can she need?! Deb: Oh, joy! What a damn treat! Billy-by-God-effin'-Strannix! Billy: What the hell d'you care! You think I'm a self-important shit! I couldn't yell anymore. My voice dropped to the normal register. I could hear it shaking and I knew I was ready to cry. I hated it when he made me cry. I think he did, too, because he suddenly looked alarmed the way he did when he had to deal with righteous waterworks. Deb: Don't you know who I am? I'm as normal as dirt. I've got a pretty good brain in my head and I don't need an ounce of silicone to give you a handful. And I fell in love with you the minute I laid eyes on you. There are times when I'd give ten years to turn the clock back and change that. And this is one of 'em, but I can't. I've gotta live with it. And five minutes from now I'm gonna be back to not being able to imagine life without you. And you just expect it. I finished my speech and hurled myself into the cargo bay. For probably the first time in recorded memory, Strannix was speechless. I sat in stony silence, my heart aching. It had gone badly, but it was done, and now I had to stay clear and stay cold until I knew how he was going to respond. TO BE CONTINUED...
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