Chapter 15

Hair still dripping from her hasty shower, Chloe twisted her hair into a shiny bun and headed for her hall locker. Students flooded into the hallways in a rush to escape as quickly as they could. Nevertheless, she felt surprisingly relaxed after a hard game of volleyball. Now, she could see why athletes were so addicted to sports. They were a great way to vent excess energy without actually murdering someone.

She pulled on her baby blue angora hat and twisted the matching scarf securely to ward off the afternoon chill. Maybe she and Belle could drop by the mall again later. Yesterday, she'd seen a costume so dazzling that she considered convincing Philip to go to the party, before he'd spring whatever surprise he had in store for the weekend. The costume coincidently went perfectly with the gift.

"Hey, beautiful."

Smiling, she turned to greet him, when she saw his eyes. "Philip." Casting aside her usual concerns about privacy, her hands reached to cup his face. "What's wrong?"

"Could we talk a minute?" He fought to keep his voice light, but it came out somewhat anxious.

"Sure," she assured, as she let him help her into her coat. She took his hand and followed him through the halls to the small school courtyard. On such a brisk day, most students chose to hang out in heated indoor locations after school. So, today the courtyard was empty, but for a couple of birds chirping in the trees. They finally chose a wooden bench circling a thick trunk and sat.

His hair still dripped from his shower, as well.

"Philip, you're going to freeze. Here," she said, as she began to unwrap her scarf, when he caught her hands.

"I'm fine, Chloe," he said, as he jaw clenched either in cold or emotion.

"Ok," she relented, settled her hands in his, and waited.

"Chloe," he began, looking down at their joined hands, "What happened at Salem Place yesterday?"

Her brows furrowed, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, why didn't you tell me that-that-that asshole-" He stood brusquely, breaking contact. "That you saw him yesterday?"

Taken aback, she remained silent. She'd never seen Philip so physically angry before. At her. She'd seen him hurt and verbally lash out but never almost violently angry with her. So, she watched him prowl about, running his hands through his hair.

"Did he hurt you?" he demanded.

"No," she answered, growing calmer, as he seemed to grow more agitated. "He didn't. He seemed more frightened than I was."

"He damn well better be," he growled.

Chloe's brows rose, too used to the uglier side of human nature to be appalled now. She'd heard rumors of how the Kiriakis power and fortune had come to be. It was hardly a heartwarming testament to the American dream. But when was it ever? It took what it took. She'd accepted that. She'd lived that. Now, she saw a glimmer into Philip's darker side.

"Philip," she said softly, touching his sleeve, and resisted a flinch, when he shrugged her off. "I'm ok. It's over. Let it go."

He rounded then, and stared hostilely at the bruise marring her cheek. "It's not over," his voice turning lethal.

"Uh-uh, no way." With eyes wide with horror, he shook his head fervently.

"Come on, Shawn. It'll be so perfect," pleaded Belle.

"That's your area of expertise. No, there's no way I'm dressing up like a freak, exposing… everything." And that was that, he said to himself. He shuddered at the idea. He trod faster through the slush toward the Pub.

"It's not like you'll be naked, though that certainly gives a girl some thought," she mumbled softly to herself. "You're going to be covered from the neck down."

"In spandex, Belle," Shawn groaned in agony. "Red and blue spandex. Do you have any idea how that looks…" His eyes were wide with embarrassing visions, as he gestured downward.

"With a cape!" she piped, quickening her pace to keep up with him, as he began to rant.

"Jeez, a cape. A freaking cape? How would I ever live that down?" he complained to the sky, thinking how locker room jibes would give new meaning to painful. "I don't know, if you and I are gonna work out… ouch, damn it," he cried, when she smacked him in the shoulder.

"It'll be so much fun, and you know it," she asserted with blue eyes flashing.

"Easy for you to say. You won't be dressed up like a freak," he replied.

"Would you stop saying that? You'll look great." She turned to take his hands in hers. "I mean, you've got the perfect body for it…"

"Belle, I dunno… I do?" His eyes blinked, as he looked into her clear blue and felt a flush creeping up his neck.

"Yeah," she assured, swirling a teasing finger on his chest and pouting just a bit. "I can't imagine anyone else as my Superman. Please, Shawn…"

"Belle, I really don't know," he said now with some uncertainty, as her arms slid around his neck. "I-" He lost his breath, when she rubbed her lips against his and those eyes seemed to engulf him.

Sensing victory in the wings, she took playful little nibbles of his bottom lip. "Pretty please…"

As his brain cells turned to strudel, his arms tightened around her. "I guess it wouldn't be that bad…" Then, total neuro-meltdown, as she pressed herself flush against him and kissed him senseless in silent thank you.

Mimi did the final revisions on her latest gossip piece. It seemed that a certain meek librarian and anal-retentive assistant principal were seen getting hot and heavy behind the reference shelves.

"If only I'd decided to check out some books that day, huh?" commented the photographer, who slid into the seat beside her, "We'd have some pics to go with that article."

She laughed, "And Assistant Principal Skinner would hang your cute little ass out to dry."

"Hey, Luis!" called their editor from across the newsroom, "I'm still waiting on those prints from last week's blizzard."

"Coming, chief!" he replied. "Later, babe. You know how I loved shooting a bunch of snow."

She chuckled, "Later, Luis." After she turned in her article, she waved to her fellow newshounds and headed out to her locker. It had been a tedious day, and she was looking forward to a long soak in the tub before homework. And privately obsess over the two notes, which she'd found each day in her locker.

Always receptive for gossip potential, her ears perked up upon hearing a high-pitched giggle around the corner. "Oh, come on, Jasey. Wanna be my date to the party?"

Restraining a laugh, Mimi hid behind her locker door and listened. The girl sounded like Betty Boop, she thought with hilarity. Her eyes widened, when she heard the boy's laugh.

"I'll save a dance for you, sweetie…"

Mimi rolled her eyes. He probably couldn't remember her name. Jerk of the century struck again. She listened on, as he continued.

"Me and the guys are gonna hang out, before we hit the party. So, why don't I meet you and everyone there?"

"Oh, Jasey…" she whined.

"You got your costume all picked out?" he asked smoothly.

"Yeah," she pouted, "I'm gonna be the Little Mermaid with the sea shells and everything."

"Well, I can't wait to see it Friday night," he replied with some assurance. Mimi rolled her eyes again. Yeah, she snorted, he couldn't wait to see her out of it.

"Look, sweetie, I gotta get going. Meeting the guys at the pond for some hockey. See you at the party Friday, ok?"

"Ok, Jasey," she replied enthusiastically. Then, Mimi heard the undeniable sound of a kiss and swore she was about to vomit.

When steps came her way, Mimi quickly piled stuff into her bag and slammed her locker shut. "Oh," she cursed, as she dropped her purse to the floor. She bent to pick it up, just as he rounded the corner. Their eyes met. His naturally taller build made him tower that much more over her. Then, he gave her an awkward nod, before he turned and left out of the double doors.

With an unexplainably heavy heart, she slowly rose and hoped his buddies would rib him good for the bright lipstick stain across his cheek.

"It's not over."

"Philip, listen to me. It'll go away. It's only on the outside. He didn't hurt me where it's important," she said, keeping her voice calm and logical.

"He won't hurt you anywhere, ever again," he promised.

Chloe sighed. "He doesn't matter to me. Why should he matter to you?"

She continued, refusing to let him interrupt. "I lived with a foster father once, who pushed my face onto the floor and made me clean up his filth, so that the social workers and inspectors didn't see how bad it was, until he was too drunk to remember." She rose then, as well. "Another family tried their best, but they were too busy fighting about who was working harder and who deserved a break, until I tripped down the steps and broke my arm." She looked up at the tree and watched the little birds hop from one branch to another, twitching and chatting. "I remember the good families, too, but those stick in my mind. They made me who I am. So, this boy… he's insignificant."

When there was only silence, she turned to face him.

Finally, he spoke, his eyes swirling with emotions. "I…" he cleared his throat, "I can't do anything about those people that hurt you before… Believe me, I've thought about a million things I wish I could do, so you wouldn't have had to go through any of that. But I can't. This… This I can. I can make sure he never ever gets near you again." His eyes welled with long unspoken tears.

Chloe went to him and held his face lovingly in her hands. "But you have. That life I lived before, it doesn't hurt me so much now. Because of Belle, Shawn, my parents, but especially because of you. The more I spend time with you, the more I believe in people, love… myself." She fingered his chiseled features and smiled. "Just by being you and being there for me. Philip Kiriakis, you're like all my favorite opera heroes rolled into one. And the more I know you, the more I love you." She rested her hands on his chest, so she could look into his eyes, so he'd know that she meant it. "He's not going to hurt me, Philip, and he's definitely going to think twice from now on about picking on women.

"Besides, if you hadn't shown up, my foot would have went right for his balls." Her heart lightened, when he let out a chuckle at that ridiculous statement. "But you did show up, and you saved us. My knight in shining armor, just like in the fairy tales." She kissed his forehead. "And just like in your porn flicks."

He laughed then. "Chloe," he sighed and rested his forehead against hers.

She cupped his cheeks. "Promise me that you'll let this go."

He closed his eyes and his jaw clenched.

"Philip." She wrapped her arms around his neck and waited for his eyes to open. "I don't want you to be angry, like I used to be. Promise me that you'll let this go." She rubbed her nose against his. "Please."

He sighed, unable to deny those big blue eyes. "I promise."

"Thank you," she said and kissed his eyes, his nose, and then his mouth. She giggled, when he lifted her up, so she could wrap her legs around his waist. "So, Mr. Kiriakis," she began, relieved that the crisis had passed, "You haven't asked me what I bought at Salem Place yet."

He couldn't resist that sly smile. "Ok, I'll bite. What'd you buy?" he asked with a growing smile of his own.

"You'll just have to wait and see on Valentine's Day."

"Doh. How did I know you were going to say that? I should've known. 'Philip, your homies, your homies, your homies.' You little schemer."

She chuckled and hugged him. "How do you feel about Medieval French royalty costumes?"

"What?" he pulled back to stare at her with apprehensive eyes.