She loved those pants. The kind that made girls go to the bathroom in groups because they could barely get back into them.

Not because the women who wore them looked good in them: no, Emma loved them because they made her think that one of these days she might be killed by a flying Levi button.

Been a while...

So its been a while since I've updated. V. Sorry, I have a brain like a sieve and a little too much on my plate right now. I'm back, now, though and hope to have an update tomorrow!

Forbearance.

I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask for some forebearance here: I've got something in my head and I'm trying to get it down on paper (or rather, a harddrive), but I need some time.

so....Please hold.

Part 4 of 4

Mini golf. Nice, safe, mini golf. Nice, located on the ground mini golf.

Her ball bounced off the wall and back two or three feet towards her. Stupid mini golf.

“Hey, try hitting it like this.” He showed her with a smooth, gentle motion. “Just tap it. We aren’t in the Opens.”

She mumbled obscenities under her breath and tried it again. Again, it slapped into the back wall and bounced back. “Mother fucker.”

“Here.” He came over behind her and held her arms in position as he ran through the motions. “Just tap.” His breath was hot on her ear. “Just…tap…” Their arms swung together a few more times, then he stepped back.

Irritation drained out of her body, she actually did tap it, as opposed to cracking it at short range like she had been. It went straight in and she turned to him with a grin, only to find him giving her an odd look.

“What?”

“Nothing. Just thinking.”

She retrieved her ball and followed him to the next hole. “About what?”

“You told me not to talk about it.”

“Oh, fantastic.” She huffed, setting the ball down and trying to tap it like he showed her, but slamming again.

“You have rage issues. It’s just a game.”

“You try sucking this bad at something.”

“I suck at all kinds of things.”

She sniggered.

“You have a mind in the gutter.”

“Yours can’t be far off that you knew what I was laughing about.”

He half grinned, then went back to the odd sober expression as he set his ball down and knocked it into the hole.

“Seriously, what’s got you looking like someone shot your dog?”

Jason looked irritated and kicked the side wall before answering. “He asked you to call if you were going to be coming home early?”

“Oh gods, not this again.” She tossed a hand in the air, encumbered by the stupid plastic golf club on the other hand.

“See? That’s why I didn’t say anything. You don’t want to hear it.”

“I don’t get what the big deal is supposed to be anyway.”

“Really? You don’t? Then why are you so damn touchy about it?” He waved the golf club at her. “I think you know exactly what I’m getting it and that’s why it pisses you off so much.”

“Even if I did know, what right does that give you?”

“The right of someone who cares about you!”

There was an embarrassed cough from the tee pad. They turned to see a woman and three children staring at them.

“I’m…ah…sorry, but we’re up to this hole.” She made a helpless gesture towards the kids.

“Were you going to hit her with that?” one of the little boys asked, wide-eyed.

“What?” Jason suddenly realized he was still brandishing the golf club and put it down. “No, of course not.”

“That’s a double negative.” Said an older girl, popping her gum. “That means he was going to hit her. Maybe he was even trying to kill her.”

“Don’t be stupid, Britty. He wouldn’t kill her where people could see him do it.”

“He might. It’s called being devious.”

Blushing to the roots of her hair by this point, Ninette moved on to the next hole with Jason close behind. They had played three more holes and were well away from the smaller group before either of them spoke again.

“I wasn’t going to kill you, you know.”

“Reassuring,” she responded drily.

I am currently working on a purchasable paper version of Vacation.

Pt 3 of 4 (taken out of order. Big gap.)

An hour later, she found herself looking over the side of an old fortress.

“Can you imagine the effort that would have to go into something like this?” she asked, running her hands over the stone. “The shell cement, the size of the rocks, each one having to be placed just so.”

“Ah, never take a historian to a fort, eh?”

“By gods, take a look at this-!”

“Whoa!” He lunged over to grab the back of her shirt as she tilted dangerously over the edge of the wall. “Would you mind staying on top of the fort, please? Or at least going down via the usual ways? Like stairs?”

She laughed, let him pull her up, and leaned back on the wall. “It’s just remarkable! Bloody remarkable!”

He eyed her proximity to a gap in the wall and came over to lean beside her. “It is pretty interesting. Then again, it’s pretty interesting that they came all the way from Spain to be here. A journey that would’ve taken months, maybe even more than a year in their time. And they didn’t even have the amenities that we have on ships now.”

Oh, be still my throbbing historical heart.

“Want to go see the barracks, then?”

“Surely.”

He held out his arm with exaggerated courtesy and led her down the steps to the area in question.

“Rather dim, isn’t it?”

She looked around. “Worse than that, crowded. There would have been at least forty men in here.”

“Uncomfortable where women are concerned, eh?” He leaned over like he was going to give her a quick hug, then leaned back. “Well. I think there’s a gift shop. Interested?”

“Hm…I guess. Can’t imagine what they’d be selling though. Rocks? Gun bits?”

“You might be pleasantly surprised.”

She wasn’t. There were fake guns, real gun bits, maps, whistles, and other such things she felt belonged under the title of “boy gifts”.

“What about these?” Jason held up a box bearing the titled Calligraphy.

Shuffling around a stand of wooden whistles, she came over to look at them. He was holding it about chest height and she ended up balancing herself on her toes and grabbing his arm to get a look.

“Ooh, glass pens!”

“Glass pens?” He flipped the box to look at the back. “Oh! Glass calligraphy pens. Do you think it works better than brass?”

“Steel, anymore.”

“Steel, then.”

“I don’t know, I’ve never had a chance to use one of the glass ones.”

“Would you like to?”

“Will you try them with me?”

His smile made her acutely aware that she was leaning on him. That her hands were closed over warm skin and taut muscle. Her breasts were brushing his ribs. His breath was rustling her hair.

She jumped back. “I mean the pens, you know.”

“Oh, I know. I just couldn’t resist the innuendo.”

“You’re a bad man.” She accused.

“No. Sadly, I’m a good man.” He gave her a little half smile. “Let’s go shopping before I change my mind about that.”

Current work Pt2

Ninette stood at the baggage claim feeling patently stupid. She’d allowed herself to be herded into a vacation that she wasn’t sure she could afford in terms of her relationship (that had been a hard admission halfway through a fairly heavy bout of airsickness) and wasn’t even sure she wanted. Yet here she was standing in the airport waiting for her “mystery ride.”

Yes, to compound all the other stupidities, she didn’t even know who she was looking for. Her mother had said “You’ll know” and smiled. Great.

Digging her phone out of her carry-on, she alternated glancing around the room with looking for her bag.

A tall woman with her face frozen in a grimace barely even got a thought. She was collected by a much younger man that caused her eyes to soften while utterly failing to do anything about the botox around her mouth.

Next was a tiny old woman worriedly wringing her hands and looking through the crowd. After a moment of thought, Ninette concluded that she probably didn’t know the woman. A few more moments and she was sure as the woman rushed up to a set of children, clucking about them like an anxious hen.

An older man who had managed to catch her eye with distinguished silver hair and a literary look was tackled by a twenty-something giggling blonde cleavage on legs. She wondered who he was trying to impress, as none of the other people were so much as glancing at them.

High pitched laughter drew her eyes to another area of the room and a flamboyantly dressed man pressing himself on a quiet, embarrassed business man. The business man was trying to hush his partner and edge out of the room without drawing too much attention.

Shame. I don’t think there’s a person in the room who isn’t looking at this juncture.

Her bag slid past and she tugged at it, unsuccessfully trying to get it off one-handed.

“Here.” A long, muscular, tan arm reached around her and lifted it easily, setting it on the ground by her feet.

Turning, she gestured towards the phone with her free hand. “Thanks, I was just trying not to- Oh.” Her stomach slammed to her feet and her heart pounded frantically.

“Hey.”

Tall, muscled, tan, smiling. Jason, her first real crush at seven, now in his midtwenties and absolutely heart stoppingly sexy. Velvety brown eyes glinting with a hint of mischief as they met hers.

Oh no…

“Hello? Ninette?”

She started guiltily and held up a finger, turning her attention back to the phone. “Hey, I was just letting you know I’ve landed. I’m here.”

“Is your ride there?”

She glanced at Jason and blushed a deep, painful crimson. “Yeah.”

“You found them alright?”

“Yeah…”

“Alright. Call me sometime later, ok?”

“Ok.” She snapped the phone shut crisply and turned back to Jason. “Sorry.”

“Your fiancé?”

“Mm.”

He looked ready to say something, closed his mouth and started again, “Want me to carry the bag?”

“If you would. I packed a lot heavier than I meant to.”

“Books, I’d be willing to bet.” His smile invited her to share in the joke.

She yawned and covered her mouth quickly. “Gosh, sorry. I’m just…beat.”

“That’s fine. Let’s go get you to bed.”

She nodded, yawned again, and followed him out into the parking lot where he packed her and her bags into a truck.

“So…how’s life?”

“Mm…shitty. Lost my job, boring classes. You know, the usual. You?”

“Busy. Lots of work, school, trying to figure out if I want to go to a graduate school or just straight into the field.”

He was silent for so long that she started to fall asleep, her head tilting slowly towards his shoulder.

“What about Dave?”

She jumped a little and readjusted into her corner of the cab. “Um…It’s…ok.”

“That’s pretty hesitant. Should I cancel my tickets?”

“Ha ha, no.” Her laughter was so stiff she wondered how he could manage not to notice.

“You ok?”

“Just tired.”

The car rounded a corner into a dark little side street and bumped along slowly for a few minutes before turning again and stopping.

“We’re here.”

She looked out the window blearily. A two story house with a light on in a loft area loomed out of the darkness.

“S’ a house…”

“Bed and breakfast” he corrected, a warm dark presence on the other side of the cab. “Are we going to get out and go in or just sit here?”

“Well, I mean, it’s pretty late to be checking in, isn’t it?”

“I checked us in earlier today.”

“Us…” she turned the word over in her mind. “So you’ll be staying here too?”

“Yup.” He stretched. “Ready to go check it out?”

“Sure.”

The room turned out to be the one with a light on. The loft room. Luckily it had its own entrance or they would have woken up half the building. It was decorated in soft neutral colors: green and suede-like brown with accents of yellow.

“It’s lovely.” She tilted her head back to look at the light fixtures and let her backpack fall to the plush cream carpet. “What’s your room like?”

He chuckled. “You’re looking at it.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. I can’t really blame her. While she could have gotten two rooms for about this price at a hotel.”

“But…”

“Afraid you can’t control yourself around me?”

“No.” Yes.

“Well, alright then.” He set her luggage down on a chair. “I guess you can take the bathroom first.”

She looked around the room, stuck her head in a little closet and checked out the bathroom. “One bed?”

Jason looked up from his position on the bed curled up to a book. “Yeah.”

“Jason! I’m getting married next month, I can’t share a bed with you!”

“Is he here?” he asked logically.

“No, but-“

“Are you going to tell him? I’m not.”

“Well, yes, but-“

He put the book down and came over to her, tipping her chin up. “Hey. It’s nothing, ok?”

“Ok…” she mumbled faintly.

“Ok. Now go get your shower while I figure out what to wear to sleep in.”

Feeling a flaming blush working its way up her neck, she grabbed her toiletries bag and ducked into the shelter of the bathroom.

By the time she got out, Jason was curled up on his side, book folded over a limp hand. Smiling, she took it from him and put it on the bedside table.

“Hm?” He stirred sleepily.

“You fell asleep.”

“Oh.” He stretched showing a hands width of flat, tan stomach with the slightest wisp of hair.

Trying to pretend that she hadn’t been gaping, Ninette gestured to the bathroom. “It’s all yours. There’s some nice shampoo in there.”

“I wasn’t going to shower. Just needed to brush my teeth.”

She gave him an odd look.

“What?”

“I just don’t think I’ve ever known a man who bothered to brush his teeth before he went to sleep.”

He shrugged. “Just trying to be courteous.”

When he went into the bathroom, she slid into the bed, feeling the warmth on the sheets where he’d been laying. With a sheepish glance towards the bathroom, she leaned over and sniffed delicately at his pillow.

It smelled like shampoo, sun, ocean, and just the tiniest hint of a cologne.

She took a deeper breath and smiled.

I guess it’s true: you never forget your first crush.