by Susanne Beck
Which was, of course, only the absolute truth of the matter.
Scarcely a minute after Ice left, Critter entered, carrying a mug in her hands. When she saw me awake, she grinned and crossed the room quickly. "Welcome back, Angel! How do you feel?"
"Not bad," I allowed. "What day is it?"
"Saturday. You’ve been sick for a week."
I slumped back against the pillows, stunned. "A week?!"
"Yup. You had us all pretty scared there for awhile. Ice wanted to get you to a hospital back across the border, but you kept begging her not to." Putting the mug down on the bedside table, she sat next to me on the bed and rubbed my arm. "I think it took everything in her not to just pack up and leave here, but you can be pretty persuasive when you want to be."
"Was I really that bad?" I asked, cringing inwardly.
She tilted her head to the side, pondering. "Well...you made some very good points, Angel. If Ice gave up on her deal with the Feds, the two of you would never have any peace."
I felt my eyes widen as I stared at her. "I said that?"
"Yup."
"Ice told me that. Not so long ago. When I was the one arguing that we should just leave."
She smiled. "Guess you listened, huh?"
"Guess so." I peeked up at her through my lashes. "Was she angry with me?"
Critter snorted. "Are you nuts? God, Angel, she was so worked up with worry over you, it was all any of us could to do just get her to drink something. Forget about eating or sleeping."
My chagrin must have shown clearly on my face, because she reached out and cupped my cheek. "It’s her way, Angel. You know that. You’re the most important thing in her life, and she wouldn’t have it any other way."
I nodded, accepting the truth in her words. The only thing which made it better was that Ice meant as much to me and she knew it.
"Besides, you’re better now, so things should get back to normal around here." She paused. "Or...as normal as things ever are with you guys."
Laughing, I poked her in the thigh for her impertinence. Then I sobered, as a new thought occurred to me. "If it’s been a week, what happened with Cavallo? We were so close...."
"Relax," Critter soothed. "We still are. Rio and Pony have been keeping an eye on him. He’s not going anywhere anytime soon." She shifted a little on the bed, crossing her legs. "A few days ago, Rio took Nia over to that friend of hers who used to work at the house Cavallo’s saying in. Now we’ve got the whole layout, inside and out. So when it comes time to do the deed," she grinned, "we’re ready."
Ice returned then, her arms filled with fresh linens.
"Let me help," Critter said, jumping up from her perch next to me and grabbing the bottom sheet from the stack. "No, you just stay there," she said as I struggled to get up. "We’re pros at this by now. We’ll be done in a jiffy."
Giving in to the inevitable, I laid my tired body back down and accepted my passive role in the whole thing. In short order, they were done and I was left feeling much better for their efforts. The tea Critter had brought for Ice was by that time cold, and after she’d gone off to get a refill, I looked over at my lover, on her feet through sheer, brute strength of will. I flipped back the sheets and patted the bed. "It’s been a week since I’ve remembered feeling you close to me. I sure could use some of that now."
I knew by the look in her eyes that she knew I had ulterior motives, but I think she also knew my words for truth. I simply needed to feel her against me, like I needed air in my lungs and blood in my veins.
And, smiling at me slightly, she acquiesced and I found myself wrapped up in the only world in which I wanted to live.
Forever.
* * *
The next several days were devoted to recovering my lost strength, and trying to get Ice to keep still long enough to do something about the deep, dark circles which had taken up semi-permanent residence beneath her eyes.
The second task consumed a great deal more energy than the first, but was, for me, much more rewarding. I was actually quite proud of myself for accomplishing the gargantuan job of getting her to relax in bed with me for seven hours straight two nights in a row. Of course, the hours before and after the "relaxation" period were anything but relaxing, but heck, making love for hours on end does help get a body back into shape, right?
One day, while Ice was off with Rio scouting out Cavallo’s place, I made myself a little nook in what passed for a front yard of the hovel we were living in and sat outside, letting the gentle breeze and warming sun do its magic on my body. Coming outside with a small sack in her hand and a smile on her face, Critter plopped down beside me on my blanket. "How ya feelin?"
"Almost back to my old self, I think."
"Good to hear. You had us worried there for awhile."
"So you’ve said. I think I’m over the worst of it, though. It doesn’t hurt anymore when I breathe, and hey! I even managed a run in the desert with Ice! Well, not really a run. More like a slow, groaning jog, but it’s progress, right?"
Critter grinned. "Yup." She tossed the small, cloth sack into my lap. "I don’t know if you’ve forgotten about this, but you gave it to me the other day. I found it when I was washing some clothes."
Curiously, I lifted the package, noting its weight was heavy for its size, and opened it. Reaching inside, my fingers brushed against something cool and solid, and when I pulled the object out, I saw it was the bracelet I’d been given the day of the accident. I looked upon it with awe. If anything, it was even more beautiful than it was the first time I’d seen it.
"Thank you, Critter," I breathed. "I thought it was lost forever. I forgot I gave it to you. I was gonna give it to Ice for... .shit!"
"Shit?" Critter asked, laughing. "Doesn’t sound like a very fair trade, if you ask me. Even for Ice’s."
I spared her a mock glare. "I mean I was going to give it to her for Christmas. But if I’ve been sick for a week, Christmas is already over, isn’t it."
"Fraid so," my friend replied, sobering. "It was last Wednesday."
"Damn." I could feel my shoulders slump under the weight of the unhappy news. Christmas at the Moore household was pretty much a grab bag from year to year. I had vowed while still a child that when I grew up, every single Christmas would be as special as it was possible for me to make it. And though I knew enough not to blame myself for being out of commission this particular Christmas, there was still a sadness there because a day I held so dear in my heard passed by without my knowledge.
Critter laid a warm hand on my shoulder. "It’s alright, Angel. None of us was really in the mood to celebrate anyway. And we pretty much figured that Ice’s heroics during that accident, and your heroics in battling death and coming back to us pretty much beat any store-bought gift all to hell anyway." Leaning over, she gathered me into a soft embrace. "We love you, Angel, and we know you love us. Isn’t that pretty much what Christmas is all about?"
After a long moment, I nodded against her chest, acknowledging the truth in her words to me.
Pulling back slightly, she grinned. "There ya go, then. So...are ya gonna give it to her?"
"Yeah, I think so. Maybe when she gets back."
"Which would be right about now. I think that’s their car trailing all that dust down there." Grinning and clapping me on the back, she stood up. "I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t."
"As soon as you let me know what that might be," I replied with a cheeky smile, "I’ll be sure and not do it."
A lurid wink later, I was on my own once again.
Replacing the bracelet back in its little cloth bag, I laid it to the side and stretched my legs out, enjoying the pull of muscle in my thighs and calves and the warmth of sunlight on my skin.
She wasn’t noisy. She never is. But I knew the second she came close. Call it a third eye, or some sixth sense. Call it crazy, or karma, or pheromones, if you want.
I’ll just call it love and leave it at that.
Though my eyes were closed to the brilliance of the sun, I still followed her movements easily, my mind playing a pleasing mental picture of a long, rangy body as it dropped to the ground beside me with incommunicable fluid grace. I pictured her eyes, darkened with concern, and the little furrow between her brows and the tense set of her mouth that spoke of the same.
Opening my eyes to that exact picture, I found myself smiling with the joy of knowing her so well. "Hey there."
"Hey yourself," she returned, her eyes intent. "You alright?"
Leaning over, I stole a kiss from the softest lips in the world, then sat back, a smug grin on my face. "Just perfect, thanks."
Her eyes brightened as a smile tugged at one corner of her mouth. "Glad to hear it."
"Me too." I shifted a little so that I was facing her. "So, is Cavallo still behaving himself?"
"Seems to be. I want to get this wrapped up soon, though. He’s gotten too lucky too often. It’s about time he paid the piper." That shark-like grin flickered briefly across her face before disappearing once again into whatever darkness housed it.
Nodding, I picked up the sack from beside my leg and fumbled with it a bit. "I’m...um...sorry I missed Christmas."
"You didn’t miss it. You just don’t remember it."
I nudged her. "Same difference, smart aleck."
"Not to me, it isn’t."
My eyes widened as I realized what she meant. "Oh. I’m... ."
One long finger covered my lips. "Don’t. Don’t be sorry. No one takes any blame, remember?"
As much as I hated getting shot in the foot with my own words, I couldn’t help but admit she was right. If I forbid her to feel guilt, I couldn’t either. Fair was, after all, fair. Even if I didn’t like it.
"Ok, ok. I’m not sorry for not remembering Christmas. But I am sorry for not being able to give you this." I held the bag out to her. "I’d gotten it on the day of the accident. Critter kept it for me. I’d like you to have it."
She took the bag from me and opened the ties. Reaching in, she pulled out the bracelet and held it so that the sun played across the shining silver. I watched her throat move as she swallowed. "It’s beautiful," she whispered, tracing the intricate engraving with the very tip of her index finger.
"A Native American silversmith made it. He said he saw the scene in a vision and knew I was the one to give the piece to. I don’t know how much I believe in his mysticism, but I do know that it has ‘you’ written all over it. I know you’re not much for wearing jewelry, and you don’t have to wear this either, if you don’t want to, but... .oh!"
My ramblings were cut short in the sweetest of ways as my lover’s lips covered my own in a tender, yet fiery, kiss of thanks.
After she pulled away, I watched through blurred eyes as she slipped the bracelet onto her wrist, adjusting it so that the cuff fit perfectly, the silver a breathtaking contrast to the bronze of her skin. "Thank you," she said simply, and her expression let me know just how deeply that expression went into her heart.
Suddenly shy with the intensity of her emotions, I felt myself color, and I smiled back, a little. "You’re welcome."
"I have something for you, too," she said finally, reaching into the pack she wore at her waist. "I made it quite some time ago, but never got the chance to give it to you. It’s something I thought of after I’d been shot this last time."
Pulling out a flannel-wrapped bundle, she handed it to me, her own eyes just a little shy, as they often were when giving me a gift. Especially one she had made with her own hands. Which were, of course, the best gifts I’ve ever received.
I opened the wrapping, then froze, tears immediately sparking my eyes as I looked down at the gift she’d so expertly made for me.
It was a wooden figurine, a little smaller than the palm of my hand, but heavy, and carved with exquisite attention to detail.
It was a carving of the two of us, together.
I was the figure behind, on my knees, angels’ wings arched forward in an all-encompassing embrace of Ice, who was half-laying in my lap, her head back against my breast, her eyes closed, and the most beautiful expression of peace I’d ever seen on her face.
"You’re my Angel," she whispered, raising a hand and tenderly drying the tears from my cheeks. "You always say that I’m the strong one, but this is what I see when I close my eyes at night. I love you, my Angel. And I always will. Merry Christmas."
Holding the precious figure against my heart, I once again closed the space between us and kissed her with all the love in my soul.
If I live to be a million, I’ll never understand the magic she uses to make the impossible happen. To make me fall even more in love with her than I was the second before.
And I hope I never do.
* * *
Desert nights can be blacker than any other. Or so I’ve found during my relatively short time on this earth of ours. Even with a billion stars sparkling coldly overhead and a huge half-moon hanging low.
They can be quieter, too. Quiet enough so that the blood rushing through your ears with every beat of your heart is the only sound you hear. Except, perhaps, for your breathing coming harsh and fast and tasting almost electric as it rushes in and out of your mouth and nose.
And if you’re scared, so scared that every second is a toss-up between vomiting and fainting, well, then the nights are blacker and quieter than ever.
And I was scared.
So scared that I felt a weird sense of detachment. The kind you feel when fever is sitting hot and heavy in your brain.
And yet at the same time, I felt totally grounded. My eyes, wide and dry and aching, darted everywhere at once, taking everything in, over and over, as if they’d never get the chance to prove their worth again. My body was wound tight, muscles trembling with the unconscious effort to keep still and silent. My heart thundered painfully in my ears, and the scent of my panic curled up around me, hot and sour like three day old summer sweat.
When a hand brushed against my back, I nearly jumped out of my skin. Only that same hand firmly gripping my upper arm kept me from making a mad, screaming dash back down the steep hill to the safety of the cars that waited below.
"It’s only me," Critter’s voice whispered mere inches from my ear. "How are you doing?"
Frozen shut, my jaw refused my summons to move. I couldn’t even turn my head to look at her. All I could do was stare ahead into the blackness.
The pressure of her hand changed from a stern grip to a warm clasp. "It’s alright. I’m scared, too."
Somehow, the tone of her voice gave my body the permission it needed to shake off—at least temporarily—the icy grip terror had over me. I was able to turn my head, and I could tell, just by looking, that she was speaking the truth. Her eyes were as wide as mine, and the area just above her upper lip shimmered with sweat, even though the night was anything but warm. She smiled at me a little. That sickly kind of smile a seasick pleasure cruiser gets just before he goes to the railing to evacuate his dinner into the ocean.
"I’m glad to know I’m not the only one," I finally managed to whisper.
"Not by a long shot. And I’ve done this kind of thing before."
I looked at her.
She blushed. "Well, not exactly this kind of thing, but I did break into a lot of places where I wasn’t welcome back when I was younger."
"Oh. Yeah." Though it might sound strange, I’d managed to forget that most of my friends had criminal pasts. "How did you deal with the fear?"
"Alcohol," she replied with brutal honesty. "I’d get blind drunk. It was the only way I could go through with half the jobs I did. They call it ‘liquid courage’ for a reason, ya know."
"Wish I had some of that kind of courage about now."
"No you don’t," she said, squeezing my arm. "You’ve got more courage in your little finger than you could ever get out of a fifth of whiskey, Angel. Even though you’re scared, you’re here. And that takes a lot of guts."
"
You’re here too, Critter."
That threw her off for a second, and she blinked at me. Then a slow smile creased her face. "Yeah, I guess I am." Then she straightened and released my arm, touching me briefly on the shoulder. "I’ll talk with you in a bit."
Then she left me staring after her in confusion as she blended back into the darkness.
Only until I felt another presence next to me.
But this time, I didn’t flinch.
Ice crouched down before me, dressed all in black from the tip of her soft-soled boots to the top of the ski-mask which covered her head and face. Only her vibrant eyes, glittering silver, posed a counterpoint to the monochrome. And even in them there was a darkness swirling that I could feel as well as see.
"You doin’ ok?" she asked, voice low and only slightly muffled behind the knit material of the mask. A gloved hand reached out and cupped my cheek and her eyes warmed in concern.
Instead of answering her question right out, I leaned into her palm and took that dark, exciting, dangerous scent of leather deep into my senses. Paradoxically, perhaps, that had a calming effect on me.
I looked at her, examined her, asked her, silently, the same question she asked me.
Was she doing ok?
The answer was an easy one.
She was more than ok. Like a prize thoroughbred prancing at the gate, she was ready.
It had been a week since I’d finally gotten out from under the sickly weight of my bout with pneumonia, and in that week, we had practiced, practiced, practiced for this very thing. Practiced until I could go over every move every one of us was supposed to make in my sleep.
Which I did. Often.
And here we were, at this proverbial ‘D-day’, and if all I could think of was running away, all she could think of was running ahead.
I could see it easily in the dark sparkle of her eyes, in the loose and easy set of her shoulders, in the coiling aura of danger and intensity which swirled around her like a living thing. Not only was she ready. She was able. And willing.
