Haven: After the AU, pt 1

[amichan]

 Julia keeps her arms around my neck and her head nuzzled into my shoulder as I carry her towards the truck. I don't ask her anything as we walk the short distance—the others are making their own ways to their respective vehicles—I just sing softly and keep a tight hold of her in case at any moment the universe goes sideways again. It shouldn't because if Julia is one thing it's bad-ass, but paranoia runs through me, probably because of the memories I just...is downloaded the right word?

I set her down and unlock the truck. She kisses me on the cheek as she goes to buckle in and I close the door, and go round, and we set off back home. Tiny girlfriend is very drained but there's an aggravated energy about her at the same time as I zip around everyone else's vehicles and down the road she manages a smile and reaches for my hand that's over the gear shift.

“How are you feeling?” she asks.

“Me? You were the one who actually went through...what? An entire day there?”

“You just got his memories though.”

“I sorta already had them—well, I would have if I'd really gone poking. He just...thought-slash-convinced himself it was a hallucination, drug trip sort of thing. He...” I shake my head, probably shouldn't get into that.

“He what?” I can tell she's turned her head to fix me with that piercing look, “I'll wheedle it out of him later...”

“Spent a few days with this Brent guy doing a lot of drugs after you guys left.”

“Baby...” she murmurs.

“Yeah, well. He did have a lot of fun with you,” I swallow to stop my voice from catching, “The tiny crazy Jennifer, even if he didn't get why you wanted sex with him he wasn't going to turn it down because that would be equally crazy though...” I add a teasing tone to my voice.

“No, Boss...” she says.

“You fell asleep after one go.”

“I said no!” she whines.

“One?”

She covers her face and shakes her head, “I know but we wound up there in the early morning and you know what time it is here! I was running on fumes. I'm embarrassed enough...at least I didn't fall asleep during.” She's bright red and so adorable.

I take the opportunity to lean over and steal a kiss. She nips my lip. I lick her nose as I pull away, returning my attention to the road. We're almost at the docks, “You more than made up for it.”

 “Damn right I did.”

$$$$

 

“So,” I say, as we park, “What would the tiny wench like to do? How does she desire to be pampered?” I continue, locking the truck back up.

She's still pondering this while we make our short walk up on board the Cape, “Seduce her,” she says, leaning against the wall while I unlock the cabin doors, “Rogue pirate, dastardly gypsy, make this maiden or wench understand her place in your heart.”

It's both a fun and...difficult scenario which gives me a moment of hesitation when she says it. I'm not often nervous about fucking things up—words usually come much easier to me.

“Very well,” I tell her, as I pocket the keys, and she follows into the rooms. I debate for a moment whether or not I should take the band out of my hair and then go through with it.

She's standing at the edge of the kitchen counter looking slightly bemused, “Everything okay?” she asks, after a moment.

“Not entirely,” I tell her, closing our distance a little, “but then who can't help but be nervous in the presence of such a lovely and beautiful young woman.”

She does her best to look stern, “I bet you say that to every woman you meet,” she moves around the other side of the counter away from me.

“I may have said things before but,” I lean slightly so I can keep her in view and keep my eyes on hers, “with you,” I reach to take her hands, “they are true.”

She pulls her hands away, “I bet you say that too.”

 I don't entirely have to fake looking affronted because she knows as well as I do that is the truth even if this is partly a game and partly a play of reassurance.

“I know you've come here several times,” she continues, “With your words and your...your eyes.”

I smile at her, “If I might be allowed perhaps I can find a better way to prove my affection,” I take the whistle necklace from around my neck and loop the cord around into circles in my palm a few times so that it fits in my hand, and then hold my hand out across the top of the counter, “This has been close to my heart for a long time, perhaps you would keep it close to yours?”

She looks down at it and then up at me.

“May I?”

She nods.

I move behind her and drape the whistle and cord over her head and around neck, and make sure it's not caught in her hair. Ordinarily I might leap into kissing, nibbling and sucking on her neck at this time, but this is not a normal situation, instead I just gently adjust the cord so that the whistle rests just above her breasts. She leans back against my shoulder, one hand playing with the whistle, looking down at it.

“I know it's not very fancy,” I tell her, “but it--”

She turns around then and kisses me tenderly on the lips, “It's lovely,” she says, “and heartfelt.”

She presses my nose with her index finger.

I kiss her back equally gentle not pushing for anything as though we are being chaperoned and take her hand in mine when she releases the whistle and lets it rest against her body, “Thank you,” I tell her, “for accepting my token.”

“Your token?” she looks amused. 

“Yes,” I take one of her hands and kiss the top of it gently.

She turns away like a modest lady and covers her nose and mouth with her other hand, “It's not so often I'm given such a thing. It seems...personal though. I'm not sure that I should.”

“Not sure that you should?” I ask, leading her carefully around the kitchen counter and into the state room. I queue up some music on the stereo and invite her to dance. She accepts my invitation with a slight curtsy, “I'm not well-versed in your stately dances,” I warn her.

“Neither am I,” she laughs, “I find them quite staid.”

“Well, then...shall I teach you something devilish?”

“I'm not sure that I should,” she says, again, but she has that minxish look.

I ask politely if I can put a hand on her hip and she allows it, then I take her hand and put it on mine. As the music changes I lead her around the room it's not any specific ballroom type dance that I know of, but it's fun, and there are polite stolen kisses here and there after whispered compliments and then the dip as the current song ends, and lifting her carefully back up to standing. She puts both hands on either side of my face and treats me to a slightly longer kiss, and then she releases me.

“Thank you,” I tell her, and kiss her hand again, “for a wonderful dance,” I kiss her wrist and when she doesn't tell me to stop I take the kiss up her arm, “when you dance with me I'm enchanted even more by you—the fact that you allow me to be in your presence.”

“Now you're just being ridiculous,” she says.

“Me?” I ask her giving a lop-sided grin. 

“I didn't tell you to stop,” she remarks, leaning her head to the side.

I continue the trail of kisses where I had left off from just below her shoulder and along her neck, nibbling gently and then up to play with the lobe of her ear. She shivers slightly and turns to me, nipping at my nose before kissing me on the mouth.

“Hm,” I breath into the kiss and then turn it into an inquiry which she doesn't deny and the kiss changes nationalities but nothing is lost in translation.

This would normally be the part where I would probably just scoop her up and carry her into the bedroom, or we might begin stripping each other right here and not even make it, but this was not the deal that I made. Instead we sort of dance to the couch for more kissing and more words of how I can't believe how lucky I am that she's in my life, and the amazing things she can do, her ass-kicking, saviorness, and how if she's willing, as I once more run kisses along her collar bone. I would like to show her further. She arches an eyebrow at me, then kisses me on the nose again and wriggles out of her t-shirt, wrapping around my shoulders for a moment and pulling me closer before dropping it behind me, and I lift off my own shirts, because it's only fair.

She runs her fingers delicately over my chest, as I'm leaning forward, where she's lounging back on the couch like Cleopatra ready for more offerings. I move closer kissing up her arm, and moving my hands up her sides towards her breasts, still covered by her bra, “May I?” I ask.

She nods.

I slip the straps down off her shoulders, and then trace my fingers around to her back to undo the clasp and free her breasts from their prison and drop the bra onto her shirt with one hand while caressing around one breast with the other and then sliding my hand up and tracing kisses up from her belly button and around before going towards her nipple, looking towards her face. She has her lips pressed together and nods earnestly and I take the nipple gently between my lips and lick the very tip. She moves ever so slightly as I tease, clamping down on how hard I'm getting, how much I just want to tear the rest of her clothes off and have at her. 

I massage her other nipple with my fingers and she breathes in with a little gasp as I continue on the first with my tongue, and then as I bring my free hand up her side I trace kisses across her breast and take the now free nipple with my hand as I move across to caress the other with my tongue, tugging gently with my teeth, listening to those little gasps and then kissing up her neck, watching her expressions as my hands still work, massaging her breasts as I move towards her mouth and take it with mine bracing my weight on my knee that's on the couch by her side so I'm not squashing her. She kisses me hungrily at first and then draws herself back, trying to maintain coy. We're both trying not to give in too much first. It's almost a game of sex chicken now, who will break and throw themselves up on the other and devour them first.

I kiss back down her body skipping over the whistle cradled between those beautiful breasts and down towards her navel and then stop at the button of her pants and look up again, “May I?”

“Yes,” she says, softly.

I slip the button open and ease the pants off her hips rubbing, and massaging her there with my fingers and tickling carefully down her legs as the pants come all the way off and land in a heap somewhat near the rest of our clothes. I slide my hands back up her legs moving to her inner thighs and breaking off back towards her stomach just before where they would prefer to be going leaving her shivering once more and looking down at me a little mournfully. I kiss around her belly button and she wriggles moving my mouth lower on her body so that my lips brush the hemline of her panties. I run my tongue along the edge of that line and she shudders against me. It's becoming more difficult to ignore how much her scent is intoxicating, but I must. I walk my fingers up from partway along her thighs to the top of her underwear and look back at her she nods before I ask and I slowly pull them down inch by inch kissing her legs and her knees and then when her panties come off her legs I take one of her feet and kiss up from heel to toe, and suck slowly down and up her big toe. She lets out a sigh that turns into a moan as I kiss back up her leg but deliberately despite the internal frustration and agony it causes me bypass the top of her mound and come back up her stomach, planting kisses on each breast and come back up to her mouth.

She takes my face in her hands which is slightly disappointing I was hoping that I would be grabbed and mauled, hair tangled and pulled, ferocious kisses, but instead, it's not as though she's not kissing me and there's no desire but it's not the wild abandon I was hoping for. She's managing to keep hold of herself. Well, it's not like I don't have a few more things I know how to do.

I run my right hand lightly across her right breast brushing the nipple as it makes it's way down over the rest of her body, keeping up the kissing as I do so and let it find it's way towards the top of her mound and just run it ever so slowly down around the edge of her until I just touch her clit and then slowly still rub there. She lets out a little whimper and I let go of her there and move another couple of fingers equally slowly further down but don't go inside, leaving my thumb at least close to her clit and there's another whimper, that slight begging noise and I recognize the feeling because it's pounding through my own head and has been for...a while and the pleading whimper is just...

Ever so gently I touch my finger tip around the edge of her opening but still don't go inside, but rub my thumb across her clit again. 

Her hands move swiftly from the side of my face to the back of my head that tantalizing knotting in my hair and my mouth is almost melding with hers. She kisses me deeply and I slip fingers inside her one after another keeping my thumb against her clit as I move them around. It doesn't take much though to get her over that precipice and to the point where she breaks the kiss fingers tightly grasped in my hair and lets go with a moaning gasp, and then relaxes, pressing her forehead against mine a satisfied smile across her face, and then kisses me that kiss that expresses thanks.

She leans back, and I slowly remove my hand from her nethers, and pick up my shirt to wipe it on and sit back on the couch.

“I do believe my family will be most perturbed that I have been ravished by the dastardly gypsy,” she remarks.

“That is not a complete ravishing,” I point out, given I'm still hard, and approaching uncomfortable, “That is really just a ravishing preview.”

“Oh?” she remarks, raising an eyebrow, “You think something else should happen?” she leans forward giving me a good view of her breasts and crawls forward across the couch.

“I'm hopeful something else might happen,” I tell her.

“Are you?” she grins, running a tongue up my chest and then stopping with her mouth just in front of mine but not actually kissing me. I lean towards her but she pulls back almost tipping herself off the couch, “No, no, no,” she teases.

I pull a face at her.

“You expect me to make it easy after what you put me through,” she points out, but she does reach for the button on my pants and undo them, freeing me from the confines of fabric, which is some relief, and I know I breath out. She pulls the pants down lowering her head towards my penis as she does so but not doing anything more than breathing across the head. I can barely think, “You think this should go somewhere?” she purses her lips.

“It would be nice,” I tell her.

She gives me a 'you bet it would' grin and kisses the top of my penis, and after another moment does lick around the outside of the head, but she doesn't do anything more. She pulls back blowing gently over the top, knowing exactly what she's doing because this can't go on any longer.

I sit up fully, taking her head in my hands and lift her up to my face so I can begin kissing her deeply and then move my hands so I can pick her up and shift our position so that she is lying on her back on the couch and I'm on top of her because there is no more time to wait the ravishing must commence.

I move one hand down her body so I can slide my penis inside her, keeping my focus given the spark of connection, but oh I'm there and I hold tight to her shoulders as I drive inside, fervently, having driven myself just as wild as her before and then her own teasing. I don't keep things in very long, but long enough to push her into the couch several times before I go, managing to not bite at her neck as much as I want to, because as horny as I am right now I might bite through skin. 

I have to bring my lady home again though.

I lean back a little and she pulls me back to kiss me, helping me feel a little better already, “You're not allowed to go anywhere,” she says.

“I wasn't quite...” I tell her, “I need—well, you know what I need.”

“I do,” she says, and she wriggles a little.

I give her a smile in return and kiss her again. I one hand behind her head and the other in the small of her back and lift her as we kiss shifting our position so that we're sitting up and she wriggles, oh, she wriggles again and she wraps her legs around me in sitting position , and I work manage to slip my legs down to the ground, and see if I can stand up but my legs are still a bit wobbly the action shifts her position and I worry that she'll get disconnected as I'm not recharged yet.

She kisses me though. It's the style of kissing from before, running her fingers across my scalp and then tugging on my hair, tipping my head back and leaning up to kiss me from above. I can feel things coming to life again half way through the kiss, and she adjusts her position accordingly so that things are more comfortable, which has the added benefit of helping me rise back to the occasion a little more of her writhing her hands through my hair and us fighting for each others' tonsils and I'm good to go and let her know by pushing against her.

She gives an appreciative groan and bounces which gets one in return, pushing on my shoulders to raise herself up and drop down. I push up against her and she drives down and she digs her fingers into my shoulders and tiny cowgirl girlfriend rides me hard and I buck against her, finding the rhythm that drives me deep against her and she moans and rolls her head back and I speed up given the sign that I've connected with the good spot and she bounces her way to the finish pulling me with her across the way. 

$$$$

“That's a good welcome home,” she murmurs into my ear, after a moment of resting her head into my shoulder. Welcome homes are something we do very well, after all, and good mornings, and good nights...

“I am fond of them,” I give her a brief kiss and she shifts to separate us.

“I suppose,” she says, drily, “We should prepare for company. Who knows when exactly people are going to arrive?”

“Nathan and Audrey might want to look at her couch first,” I point out.

“Yes, but Dwight doesn't have anyone to share a couch with and he went through the whole...place with me,” she points out, “He's probably just as antsy to get through everything with them...he spent the time we were there trying to avoid running into Duke and me he doesn't want to run into you and me.”

I have to laugh knowing some of the things that he and she were up to and the both funny and embarrassing memory of groping at his chest and fondling his biceps too, for that matter, “Poor Sasquatch. He did put up with certain things very well though.” 

A slightly wistful smile crosses her face for a moment as she slides completely off me and after leaning over then seems to decide against picking up her clothes and instead sashays off towards the bedroom. I scoop up the clothes and check the couch, flipping the cushion before following her. She's already got a fresh pair of panties on and is shrugging on a clean pair of jeans as I toss the clothes into the pile. I can't help but be slightly disappointed.

She quirks a grin at me and shakes her head because I'm sure she's seen the expression crossing my face many times before, “Horny gypsy,” she chides, “People are coming over, remember?”

“I know. I know.”

“There's later,” she says.

I shake my head, “No, I promised I'd try and get him out later and if we do that I can't promise I'll want to keep my promise.”

She laughs and adjusting the straps on the bra she's put in comes over and reaches for my chin, “Oh, poor you.”

“You'll just have to make it up to me later,” I kiss her nose.

“You know there will be much welcoming back of you on your return,” she points out, “You at least need pants, Boss.”

“Fine, fine,” I go to the dresser and dig out a pair of jeans, “I was figuring on having some things sent over from The Gull.” 

“Oh?” she says, having been heading out of the bedroom door, “Well, I was preparing to fight you over making food, but ordering take out is a great idea considering the schedule. We can get them to stow away some proper beer too, educate Dwight.”

“That was definitely my plan.”

“Do I really have to ask you to get the Shrimp Alfredo?” she says as I grab a shirt and follow her into the main cabin.

“No, that was on my plan too. Mostly appetizer snack type things for everyone, but I don't want to be throttled so the Alfredo is absolutely on the list,” I promise as I hunt down my phone.

“I would never throttle you,” she insists, “but stabbing that's definitely a possibility. We didn't make a mess over here?”

“I just flipped the cushion,” The Gull's number is ringing. I dodge a throw pillow and walk over to pick it back up, “That is no way to—oh, hey, Shell,” I tell her after she does the standard intro.

“Oh, Boss-man, sorry, I was on auto-pilot didn't look at the Caller ID.”

“No problem.”

“I promise nothing is on fire,” she assures.

“Yeah, I can see that. No, it's fine. I'm going to need some things sent over to the Cape. You can start with the alcohol right now, and then there's food which can be sent over in about what?” I look at Julia, “an hour?”

She gives me a look.

“Well, I'll need the Shrimp Alfredo as soon as possible or I might get stabbed, but the rest of what I'm going to tell you can wait about an hour.” I give her the order. 

“I didn't think you ate that long ago. If I'm remembering what he remembers correctly,” that was a mouthful.

She just puts up a hand, and goes back to digging in the cabinet. I help her flip the cushion back so it can be properly cleaned and get playfully elbowed for my efforts, and then make sure that things are moved around from the counters and such, anything that was being worked on over the past few days that we're not ready for the Wonder Twins to see or that might be brought out depending on what happens during conversation.

I'm wiping down the counters and Julia's blending some fruit into smoothies to refrigerate when there's a knock on the door which is the rhythm of someone carefully trying not to drop things rather than Dwight's thumps or his more gently not-a-threat taps.  

True enough I open the door and there's one of the Gull's servers carrying a large wooden box clinking with bottles of beer lined up in, and a plastic carrier bag that wafts the scent of Alfredo into the cabin. I take the crate and set carry it across to the kitchen bar, and quickly do a count to make sure there's an appropriate selection.

Julia goes to the door and takes the Alfredo and brings it over, “Money,” she says, setting it down on the counter.

I go to my pocket, before remembering I just go these pants out of the drawer and didn't actually transfer anything around.

“It's okay,” the guy says, hovering awkwardly in the doorway, “I mean, Boss-man, seriously--”

“Gotta keep things straight,” I tell him, “Plus you didn't break anything, which is priceless.”

“Thanks,” he says.

I get the money out of the bedroom and give him a $20 of his own, and send him on his way. I imagine he'll be fighting to bring the other stuff out later. We'll see who wins.

I start rearranging the fridge so I can load the beer in that doesn't fit into the middle of the door, moving the smoothie mixture to the side of the second shelf. I hear Julia rustling with the carrier bag and breaking into the Alfredo. I wonder if I'll actually get any shrimp. 

As I turn around to grab the crate off the counter so we have space to lay out other things though Julia says something to me that I don't quite catch and when I go to ask her what she said my mouth is filled with noodles sauce and shrimp, “Mrphm?” I ask, trying not to choke. I have to put a hand up so I don't spit linguine all over the floor while trying not to drop a crate on my bare toes. I'm not screwing my foot up again.

She fixes me with the most innocent of looks she can managed, “What?” she jabs some food herself and eats it.

Once I've managed to swallow the mouthful, “Thank you? Are you trying to stave me off by giving me some now? That way you can get all the rest to yourself?” I remember previous fights over the shrimp in the Alfredo.

She shakes her head, swallowing her own forkful and prodding the refilled fork towards me. I eye it curiously but I'm not going to refuse if she's willingly sharing the shrimp and eat the serving which is a lot easier to manage being slightly smaller and not going into my mouth so much by surprise, “I told you I'd been intending to make dinner, right?” she picks up the bowl and follows me towards the front deck as I stash the crate inside one of the others that sits out there and flip them back over.

“Well, yes, but--” forkful. I wind up having to cover my mouth again. Tiny girlfriend winning arguments by rendering opponent speechless.

“Well, I didn't make it so now I feed you.”

I swallow, “I'm capable of feeding myself, you know?” though admittedly half-hearted protest because it's not like it's not fun being fed.

She points to the kitchen table with the fork as she's swallowing another bite of food herself and indicates I'm to sit, and I figure it's best to comply. She sits across from me, rolling another forkful and spearing a shrimp on the end and offering it to me. I eat it, and she sets the bowl of Alfredo down for a moment, “You are,” she nods, “but...I just spent, well, you know how long, over there, and the most I could do for him was buy things and hope he would eat them. I don't know if you realize—exactly how things are what with seeing him from the inside...” she says, “Do I need to show you the pictures?”

I take hold of her hands and squeeze them. I don't know how much good that would do, or if I could...I squeeze her hands again.

“Well, then shut up and let me fuss over you, Boss. You deal with it better than he does and I don't want to spook him.”

“Fine, fine.” I tease, kissing her hands before releasing them so she can go back to the Alfredo, “We're both very, verylucky to have you, you know?”

“Don't start that again,” she says, offering more food towards me.

It's a few more forkfuls before exactly what she said before sinks in, “Pictures?”

“Hm?” she says.

“You said pictures. You took pictures of him?”

She looks slightly embarrassed, “Well, not that he was aware of and once he was awake again I was pretty sure that he wouldn't be happy about posing for anything unlike some of the others.”

“Others?”

“Yeah, I've got a video for you, actually, and I got some picture with--”

And then, of course, comes a knock at the door. I roll my eyes. It's not Dwight's knock but from the sound when Julia gets up and opens the door he is there with the Wonder Twins.  

$$$$

Nathan and Audrey head for the couch, missing the look that passes between Julia and I when they do. Dwight doesn't though, casting a questioning look in our direction, but as far as seating arrangements I don't know that he's going to want to take the chair. I anticipate more hovering; but first we have to fix the beer problem.

I open the fridge and find the appropriate label and offer the beer to him, “Here we go,” he cautiously takes the beer, “much better than that Budweiser bullshit.”

He looks down at the label, “Flying Dog in Heat? What are you trying to say?”

Julia laughs, “He could have given you Horn Dog...”

Dwight pops the cap off and takes a drink.

“Or the Raging Bitch,” I point out.

Dwight shakes his head, but has to admit the beer is good, “I'm not a complete philistine, you know? The Bud was the only decent thing they had within the limited radius I had to work with.”

“Sure,” I tell him, grabbing a handful of beers and bringing them over to the table and setting them in front of Nathan and Audrey.

After some negotiation Dwight agrees to actually sit down and not hover. We pull one of the crates from the deck and put a blanket wrapped pillow on top of it to make it comfier, and Julia half perches on me, half on the arm of the chair and I open her beer, stealing opener's tax, before opening my own.

“So...” Audrey says, “I...well, part of what I don't understand is why I have no idea at all what happened. So, what happened? What did he do to us?”

Julia sighs, and I wrap my arm around her waist, “He picked us up and threw us into a part of the Pearson wish timeline, which made everyone merge with who they were there. Yes, even you, Audrey. You're immune to Troubles, but this wasn't a Trouble, this was manipulation of your entire being. For all intents and purposes, we were literallythrown back in time. Dwight and I landed on our respective graves. Does anyone want to see the pictures?”

“I'm morbidly curious,” Nathan remarks.

She shifts a little to pull her phone out of her pocket and swipes across, eventually stopping and leaning over to show the phone to Nathan. Audrey leans close to look over Nathan's shoulder. Julia swipes a couple of times and then puts the phone face down on her lap.

“Wow,” Nathan says, looking at Dwight, “Ten, man, that sucks.”

“I wouldn't know,” Dwight answers, “Didn't feel it. No idea how it happened. ”

Probably best.

“We went to find Duke's other self,” Julia continues when no one asks anything, “and talk to him about helping us find the Heart of Haven, which he seemed pretty happy to do once I uttered the magic words paying cash, and then he went to take care of something and we introduced ourselves to Vince's other self,” she pauses then, “Well, I introduced myself. Loudly. The explanations were fun.”

“I'll bet,” I murmur, considering what I remember of other Vince. Though I think he's kinda biased.

“He was very excited to hear how things went in our timeline. Brought you a present, Boss,” she turns the phone over again but facing towards me.

I'm graced with Vince's face but his eyes are practically popping out of his skull in frustration, anger, his skin shade rapidly approaching magenta. I can't help but laugh, “I see the excitement,” I tell her, “Looks like it's going to burst right out of his skull.”

“I know about the amount of cash money that Duke “allegedly” operates for here,” Nathan remarks, “I doubt either of you were carrying that on you when this went down.”

“You're right. We weren't. It was my other self's Get the Hell Out of Haven Fund that she never got to use.” I tighten my hold on her as she wraps her arm around me and I nuzzle her ear and kiss her. She paid him back the money that he paid her and then he spent a good—I don't even want to—not even thinking about it right now.

Audrey looks like she wants to say something but then she catches Julia's eye, and I glance at tiny girlfriend's expression myself which is focused and serious and threatening to snap or even attack anyone who questions sometime in the past few minutes Dwight has left his seat and is standing in the middle of the opposite side of the table from Audrey and Nathan, arms folded watching them with a severe frown, as though waiting to pass judgment.

I can see the wheels turning as Audrey formulates a new statement, “Remembering what I do of the Duke from the other side I can see why cash would be a good idea,” she says, “I mean, you guys are dead, he has no idea who...” she glances at Julia, and toys with her lip, “you are, probably, and he's not the sort to volunteer help without getting anything out of it.”

“Exactly,” Julia says, “I know my gypsy,” she puts a hand on the back of my neck and massages it and then nuzzles my nose with her own. I only realize I had been holding my breath because I let it out then.

“It was a dance...” Dwight puts in, “She really had to navigate around...” he's searching for words carefully, “sharp pointy edges,” he decides.

“It's not the first time I've had to navigate around those reefs and shoals,” Julia points out, “They're similar to Duke's, just...” she takes hold of my hand.

I squeeze it, “Just murkier?”

“Something like that.”

“Full of paranoia sharks?”

“Stop,” she kisses my nose, “Anyway,” she continues, “Vince couldn't help us, but he told me my father was still alive and where he was living. So I got to meet my dad, which was nice. Then he, Vince, drove us to HPD so I could talk to the Chief.”

“Chief?” Nathan asks.

“Yes,” Julia says, “I got pictures of him too, if you'd like.”

Nathan nods and Julia turns the phone around once more and shows him, and then sends copies to him.

“Turns out he was holding a sort of Carver heirloom and he gave it to me.”

“Carver heirloom?” Audrey asks.

“Yes,” Julia nods, “It's something I thought must exist, and hoped would be able to help us, but hadn't been able to track down, which is, well, because Chief gave it to me in that time line so it didn't exist here any more,” she shakes her head, “but I have it now, but you have to be the active Carver heir to be able to read it otherwise it just looks like a regular...thing. None of them will even notice it's missing because they can't see it. I couldn't even have seen it before I activated.”

“Can it help us?” Nathan asks.

“I hope so,” Julia says, “but it's going to take a lot of research. There's just so, so much, from there...I ran into and then talked with my mom, which was awkward but kind of nice in the end. Ran into your other self, Nathan. He recognized me, which was super awkward and I had to show him some pictures and swear him to secrecy.”

“What sort of pictures?” Audrey asks, clearly trying to not sound suspicious but it leaks through.

What sort of pictures does she think Julia has?

“Just ones that prove the reality we came from: that Nathan and Duke talk to each other and that cute one you took of Duke and I about to kiss each other.”

“Oh, that one's cute!” she says.

“Yeah,” Julia's back on mission though, “We met back up with Duke's other self after that and went back to his boat with him. We finalized the deal, talked for a bit, and Dwight went out to get Chinese take-out for dinner. Talked for a bit more, and then since it was past midnight as far as our bodies were concerned, we called it a night. Dwight was at the B&B I just sort of crashed out on the boat.”

The snicker escapes, crashed out...she elbows me, but seriously after one time. She's trying to be angry with me, but she's struggling to keep the fierce expression given she's also starting to blush and I just laugh harder.

Out of the corner of my eye I can see Dwight shaking his head and putting one hand to his temple.

“Seriously though,” I tell her, “It was just one...”

“It was really good, okay?” she mutters, “Apparently I'm a lightweight when I'm really stressed and dead on my feet!”

Nathan wipes one hand down his face, leaning forward the other hand still holding his bottle, “You're not talking about beers, are you?” his voice trails off.

Dwight looks pained because I'm pretty sure he knows exactly what happened between my other self and “the Jennifer”. Well, not exactly...but there's a good idea.

“Tell me you're talking about beers,” Nathan says, with an edge of desperation, “Lie if you have to.”

Audrey is staring off a little, running something through in her mind and then, “But...he...”

“They're talking about beers, Parker, let it go.”

“I bought a six-pack while I was getting dinner,” Dwight clarifies.

“Yeah, that Budweiser piss, too,” I point out.

“It's not like you—he actually drank any,” Dwight says.

“Well, no, because he doesn't mix his substances,” I explain, not entirely sure I should have but the sentence is out in the room now.  

“So, he was--” Audrey starts.

“Anyway,” Julia cuts in deliberately over-stepping, “he was kind enough to let me borrow his washer so once my clothes were dry we went to go talk to his contact who was at the Historical Society.”

“You got him to--” Audrey loses her sentence in disbelief.

“She was very good at getting things out of him,” Dwight puts in, “Anticipating things that he would be paranoid about and working around them.”

“I know my gypsies,” Julia points out, “and your tiny weird client is volunteering to pay you extra for intrusions and to borrow things, or add laundry to a load you were doing anyway, why not? Anyway, the laundry was incidental really. I'm just running through order of operations. Historical Society contact—we went there in person. I spent a while swearing at old charts and maps with the contact while he and Dwight ...I have no idea what you two did until you went on the lunch run.”

Dwight fills in, “Um...we were outside and I didn't smoke...? It was very uneventful.”

Uneventful...I suppose so, though I remember the conversation about rates and affording things and what could be done in exchange for services and Dwight's giving me a look to be quiet as I try and fail not to laugh.

“What's this now?” Audrey says, “It doesn't sound uneventful.”

“I'm curious too, Boss.” Julia leans back and looks at me with an inquiring expression. I am finding out some sides of things that I didn't know and this is something she hasn't heard about but whether Dwight wants Nathan and Audrey to hear that the other me was offering sexual trades after feeling him up already earlier in the day.

“No, it's fine.” I shake my head, “It's one of those funny things where you really had to be there.”

There's another knock on the door and for a moment I'm confused but then I remember that I'd told The Gull to send the other things I'd requested around an hour after the beer and Alfredo and they're probably a little early but they're being left on their own and Shelley wants to keep the Boss-Man happy and prove she's keeping things under control.

“I'll get it,” Julia says, standing up and patting my pocket.

I reach into it and hand her the clip of money before she goes over there.

Nathan drains the last of his beer and gets up to get another one, but comes back with two and puts one I front of Audrey she leans back in the seat and runs her hands through her hair. Dwight is still hovering and only has half a beer drunk. He keeps his arms folded and the beer is in his left which is crossed over his right.

“You don't like it?” I ask him.

“It's good. I'm just...trying to keep focus.”

“I'm just...” Audrey starts, leaning forward again, “...I'm confused how you guys were able to get his cooperation even with the money, you know? Because I remember how he was with Julia when he first came to—to--” she waves a hand in my direction, “and that was...a mess, and there was Julia right in front of him, in person, in his world, two years before.”

I feel a strange shuddering cold, that someone walking over your grave feeling up and down inside the muscle on my arms and down my back. My skin breaks out in goose bumps and I rub down my arms.

“He didn't recognize her,” Dwight says, “It had been fifteen years, after all, and she used a different name. We didn't want to screw with him like that. How shitty would that be?”

“No, I understand that,” Audrey says, “That's why I was...I know how he reacted to just the mention of her name. My face remembers...” she rubs her cheek and around the base of her chin where I—he ...punched her, “He seemed to recognize her right away here so...”

“He knew she would be here because this is your timeline and you'd told him she was alive here. That's his timeline he's not—he's not looking for her,” I actively un-clench my fists, “there. So, even—even if he suspected he's going to write it off because she's dead, and he knows that. He saw her.”

“Julia told him right off the bat that her name was Jennifer,” Dwight adds, “and we'd seen Dave shortly after we...landed and he didn't recognize her either.”

“What about my Dad?” Nathan asks, thankfully pulling the subject in a slightly different direction which eases the chill that was setting in in my chest somewhat, “They talked a while. He handed over that Carver whatever it was. He must have known who she was.”

“I really didn't talk to the Chief,” Dwight says, “I was outside in the main office where they were processing Duke,” he regrets saying it as soon as he said it but too late now.

“What did you do this time?” Nathan says, playfully, but it still jars through, “Sorry...” he follows up with, “I imagine things might be a bit chaotic?”

I give him a dismissive wave, “It's fine.”

“If it's anything like when I was there--” Audrey says.

“You'd really have to ask Julia more about the Chief,” I push over the top of her, “I'm sorry,” I add in her direction, “I just--” but I can feel that almost aching burning around the back of my head and I massage my scalp.  

“What's that about the Chief?” Julia asks, coming over to the table with the appetizers that I'd ordered, there's bowls and plates containing: Thai chicken skewers, southwest egg rolls, cheesy potato skins and shrimp scampi flat bread.

“We were talking about whether or not people recognized you and I'd asked if the Chief did,” Nathan explains. I can't focus on him properly while he's talking. So, I rub the tattoo and focus on Julia instead I need to be the one of us who stays present I don't know that he'll be able to deal so well with everyone being here, especially since he seems to have a really big problem with Audrey.

“Yup,” Julia says, “He told me I was as pretty as the da- yes. He recognized me, and that I was the active Carver heir. Wuornos holds Haven together; he'd known something was wrong since 1983. Let me get plates, hold on,” she goes back towards the kitchen and begins rattling around in there.

Audrey leans towards Dwight, “You guys weren't really talking about beer before were you?”

Dwight sighs, “What's it matter?”

Audrey sits back something clearly eating at her, “Beca--” she starts and then she leans forward again but more towards the room in general than just one of us, “I just—did she really have sex with him? I mean he's not you.”

@@@@

Parker and Wuornos are sitting across from me on the couch and...Dwight, that's his name, police chief he's watching me, standing on the other side of the small table, this—it's the Cape again, isn't it? How is it? I have to scrub my eyes. It's—how is this happening? There was something...sex.

Wuornos is talking to Parker, and Dwight—something is niggling around my head, a memory of a hallucination from years ago: the Dwight and his solid chest? How was that..? No...

Whether or not he is, he moves off away from us.

“--sly,” Wuornos, Nathan; it's Nathan here, because it's not the same one. Right? We spent that time with the poker, and—we really must have. It doesn't, “It's just a different...” he rubs his eyes, “...branch, like Groundhog Day, right?”

Julia sets some plates down. There's food on the table I realize, and she comes over and sits on my lap and wraps her arms around my shoulders, and leans in towards my ear, “It's okay, baby,” she says, softly, “I know which one you are. I won't let them hurt you. Do you want them to leave?”

I shake my head. I'm sort of curious if they'll notice, but at the same time I have no idea really of anything he knows or what's supposed to be going on, but learning about them and being around at least for a little while might be a good test.

“What were we talking about?” Julia asks, she's a little terse.

Parker leans over and grabs a plate and puts several things on it. Nathan follows suit. There are two different answers one is about the dynamics of the universe and whether or not everyone counts as the same person, this is from Nathan and the other is about whether or not we had sex, and this is from Parker, and she does literally mean Julia and me, “I'm just...and I'm sorry,” she says, “because it's rude but that's what got Nathan on the universe thing but isn't it cheating? And how did that even come about?”

Julia makes a grumbly noise. I lean my head against her.

“What's it matter?” Dwight says, “It's not relevant to us getting out of there.”  

“If we don't get off this subject,” Julia says tersely. Tiny mistress is almost vibrating with annoyance, “I'm going to add in the layer of whether or not Lucy and Sarah count as different people or not because in the Lightscape I can clearly see they're all part of the same entity. Just like Duke and his other self are parts of the same entity.”

I take her closest hand in mine and wend it back and forth a little across my lap. She is really here.

“So...” Nathan says, “There was a lunch run and you'd been swearing at maps and charts?” he looks pointedly at Parker after he asks the question of Julia.

“Yes,” Julia answers, lifting up our joined hands and kissing mine, “I did manage identify where the Heart of Haven was just as they got back with the food so we had lunch and then Duke took us to the Lighthouse where I summoned the door and paid him and then we came home.”

I can feel goosebumps working their way across my body, and clamp down to hold things in. She—she was the Jennifer. That...Dwight—the Dwight, I look him up and down again, and he shakes his head at me with a vague smile though as he picks up what appears to be a chicken skewer from the table. She did say and she had kept calling me “baby”. Damn it. I grip Julia's hand more tightly.

“It can't be that simple,” Nathan says, “You were crying when things came back together—well, when you came back through the door, I guess. I've only seen that...” he trails off looking slightly uncomfortable.

Julia shifts in my lap a little and when she speaks every work is very crisp, distinct and bitten off, “I had to leave my gypsy in that hell. He was hurting and I couldn't help him past giving him money to buy heroin so he could make the pain go away.”

I swallow. It's becoming harder to maintain self-control though, will not show upset, will not show upset, and I can feel myself getting a bit twitchy too. Though it's more than a little gratifying how uncomfortable Parker looks. Nathan swallows too and then tries to drain his beer but finds it already empty and gets up to go to the fridge to get another one. I hear it pop open.

“You need one, Duke?” he offers.

He would take one, “Sure.”

I'm given something called Horn Dog. I hold in a laugh. He would be used to this. I pop the cap and mime taking a drink, and rest it on my leg. Julia steals the bottle. I make half-hearted protest.

“So, the guy who threw us all in there,” Parker says, “You said he was on a six month trip?”

Julia nods, passing back the beer, and reaching forward to fill a plate with food, “Yes. I...” she clearly changes her mind on what she was going to say, “...told the Barn to do to him what I accidentally told it to do to Duke the time he was gone for six months and wound up in Boston.”

“Which means we have six months to come up with some sort of game plan,” Dwight seems very comforted by this.

I wonder who this person is that Julia banished even if it was temporarily. They all seem worried about him.

“Hm,” Parker says.

“Can't we just keep doing that?” Nathan says, but he actually seems to be joking, half-heartedly, but still.

“Hey, if you don't want to be able to feel...anything...for the rest of your life, that's your problem, but we held Hot Stove meetings about it during those six months while you were ineffectively addressing your issues, and you've been outvoted.”

“Point taken,” Nathan says, glancing over at me.

“But how exactly will we...” Parker trails off, sounding miserable.

“I think that part of the discussion is for another time,” Dwight says, “Were there any other questions about our trip that involve relevant details?”

I still can't. It makes my head hurt. Tiny mistress Julia was tiny crazy client Jennifer. I lean further into her. She brushes a hand down my neck, and then pulls the band out of my hair and snaps it around her wrist.

“You're not doing so okay any more, are you?” she murmurs.

I shake my head.

“You know,” she says, more loudly, “We did say that we had other things on our schedule that we needed to do this evening.”

We did? Oh they did. There's an odd pulsing from my left wrist and I see her looking at me with a pleading expression. 

“So, if you don't mind...take some of the food with you, if you want,” she adds to the group, “I can give you napkins,” she gets up, but as she does so she kisses me on the cheek, “Don't worry. The plans involve you,” she says, softly, “They do. I'm just getting them out of here,” she kisses me on the lips, briefly and stands up.

I get up too. That would probably be expected and look for some place to set the beer.

Nathan reaches over from where he's inspecting the food on the table and takes it from me, “I got it,” he says, “We'll be gone in a moment. Come on, Parker,” he puts hands on her shoulders.

“But Nathan--” she starts, “I haven't said--”

“No, no, come on—right, Dwight? Before we see something we don't want to see, you know how these two get.”

“This is very true. The things I have almost seen.” Dwight follows them out and closes the door.

I'm not sure really what to do with myself so I start to pick up plates and empty beer bottles from the table and take them into the kitchen. I've cleaned off the plates and am about to throw away the empty bottles when Julia comes back from locking the door looking perplexed at me. She puts her hand on mine so I put the bottles down on the counter and then she has my face in her hands holding me so that I can't look away from her.

“I told you you'd see me again, baby, and things would be better...right?” her voice seems slightly shaky and I can see it, standing there by the Lighthouse and her saying things about...not wanting to leave me, but there was something important...and that, well, she'd see me again but it all seemed like such bull shit. None of this...Cape Rouge, different—different body.

“I'm sorry...I couldn't believe you.” I tell her, but she's shaking her head, and I can see she's losing hold on herself, much like I am, much like I have been since I realized who she was. She's...she's really upset about what happened? It had to have happened then, didn't it?

“It's okay,” she says, “I knew you couldn't let yourself believe me. I told you it was okay, right?” She wraps her arms tightly around me but I can feel my legs giving, and we wind up on the floor and I can feel her tears on my chest. She's crying and I can feel myself shaking, tears falling. I can't...I hold the back of her head, keeping her against me, and she grips my back, and I rest her head on my shoulders, “I'm sorry,” she keeps repeating, “I'm sorry I had to leave you there. I'm so, so sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't tell you what was going on. I'm sorry I couldn't do more for you.”

But what would I have taken. There were a couple of times that I think crazy client lady reminded me of Julia but...that made no sense. How many other times had I seen people who sort of reminded me of her? Julia was dead. This the really, real world and there ain't no coming back; even in Haven and not after that long. Not ever. Especially not for...and now she's here though, and I can feel her and touch her.

I grip hold of her more tightly and she does the same, repeating her apologies and I try to say things, but there are no words at first eventually I choke out that I wouldn't have accepted it, and she says she knows, really she does and then I apologize again for that and she tells me it's okay, and it cycles through again, after I don't know how long we pull apart and she wipes her eyes on her wrist, and I carefully offer her my sleeve, which she accepts. I have no idea where anything else would be and then wipe mine with the other, and she kisses each of my cheeks tenderly, and I feel so strange again sitting here on the floor with Julia facing me both of us red-eyed and sniffly.  

“You believe me now, right?” she asks, softly.

All I can really do is nod.

She reaches a hand up to the side of my face and then moves forward so that she can kiss me. It's a gentle brushing of lips against mine, then she presses our mouths tenderly together, and then kneels up cupping my face in her hands, deepening the kiss and I can remember the feeling and the Jennifer talking about wanting to pretend “for a fee” that I was the boy she had a crush on in high school...but focus on the now, not the then.

Now is Julia with her hands on either side of my face, brushing them back into my hair. I run one hand up her side across to the middle of her back the other moving to the back of her head to hold her closer to me as we kiss each other more and more deeply and I feel her slowly pushing me backwards so that I'm laying on the floor all the while we're still kissing. One of her hands leaves my hair and moves down my chest to my waistband and deftly removes my pants using one hand to work my penis for a moment before momentarily, reluctantly? Breaking the kiss to take off her own clothes before I can follow through with my plan to take off her shirt.

She runs her hands back up my chest underneath my shirt, squeezing my nipples and then running her hands back down my chest. I can feel my penis pushing against her thigh, and she slips it inside her. We connect, both of us moan with that satisfaction, and then she leans down to kiss me again and I lift myself up slightly to close the distance and begins to rock back and forth against my groin. It's a slow building ecstasy, shakier than usual and full of kisses from each of us to the other, promises renewed, and reality accepted once and again until climax is achieved and we curl up together again in the shadow of the kitchen cabinets.  

She leans up after a little while and looks over at me, “There's more comfortable places to cuddle than the floor, and I'm hungry. How about you?”

“I...suppose?”

She gives a little laugh, “Come on,” she climbs off me and picks up her shirt, shrugging it back on and offers me my pants, “I know I assembled a plate before, but I never got to eat anything off it.”

It doesn't take long before we're both dressed and she heads towards the couch so I follow.

She picks up the beer that Nathan had set down for me, “Oh, good, it's not horribly over-warm,” she takes a drink from the bottle and sets it back down and then looks over at me because I haven't crossed the room, but that alien feeling is taking over again. This isn't my boat. I shouldn't be here. The walls are wrong. My head is wrong and spinning, and loud. The couch is wrong. My eyes hurt. Everything is in strange places and odd angles and the colors are off and I the decorations I do recognize seem so out of whack.

“Baby?” I hear her get closer. Something rattling around. Muttering for a moment.

I'm being an idiot. I am. Break everything. Not my place. Not my boat.

“Baby, what's wrong?” Her arms are around my shoulders. I didn't realize I'd curled up.

“I can't...” words won't work and I'm ruining things, “...words.”

“Take it slowly,” there are kisses on my hands, my forehead, “Come on, slowly, over here. It's okay. You're safe,” I can feel more kisses, odd, fluttering touches, “Sit. Sit down. We'll sort it out, okay?”

I'm vaguely aware of a cushioned seat underneath me and her squooshing down next to me, arms still resting on my shoulders, one moves to my knee.

“Baby, look at me, okay?” But my head doesn't want to move at first, “No, look at me,” and it's that tone and I turn my head, “Thank you,” she says and kisses me on the lips, gently, “Did you—are you worried you're in the wrong place?”

I have to nod, because she's not wrong.

“You're supposed to be here, baby. It's okay.”

“I got...” oh, come on words, fuck, “...disoriented.”

“Oh,” she says.

“And then it just all,” all I can really do is wave my hands in swirls.

She kisses me again, “I'm here,” she says, “and you're here, and it's okay, but I can...” she looks around the room, “...having seen the Ursa very recently, that would throw things a bit. You remember what I did last time? With the Sharpie? Would you feel better if I did that again?”

My hand goes to my wrist almost before I think about it, “Yes.”

“I thought you might. I will be right back. Don't go anywhere. Promise?”

I nod.

She kisses me again and wanders off towards—no, that has to be her room; the room we were in last time. She reappears a moment later declaring victory and waving the pen. I slide down the seat, but then she just pats my arm so she can sit on my lap and demands my wrist as offering.

She can draw so smoothly over the flesh. It's odd seeing these hands and forearms so free of bruises, scabs and holes; the color of the skin. I can feel my stomach churning a little.

I'm supposed to be here, right?

“There we are,” she says. There's the clatter of the pen being dropped on the table, and the chain of hearts is back around my wrist, agreeing that I am supposed to be here because they're the same as before, as the last time that Iwas here. I can feel my eyes stinging hot again. She wraps me in a hug, “It's okay, baby,” she says, “It's okay.”

I pull back and she looks at me concerned until I kiss her.

“Ah,” she says, against my mouth, and kisses back.

We break apart after a little while and she leans against my shoulder.

“Feeling better?”

“A bit.”

“Good,” she reaches over and picks up a plate, feeling the contents with her hand. Then she shrugs and takes a bit of something that after I focus on it a bit more I realize is a spring roll of some sort. She gives me a smile and offers it towards me, “You want some?”

I shake my head.

“The plans this evening did involve you, you know?” she says, eating some more, “Once we got back Duke and I talked and we agreed that we'd find a way to get you forward so that there could be hugs and crying and explanations and sex...not necessarily in that order,” she amends, picking up the beer and having another sip and then offering it to me.

I take it and drink a small amount, “You wanted me out?” Given the group gather and conversation it seems like it wasn't that long that they got back and she could spend time catching up with her Duke after being gone for...how long were the Jennifer and the Dwight dealing with me and Dave and all of that? I look back at the make-shift tattoo drawn on my wrist though and remember her insistence that we are both Duke, both her Duke, no matter what, tiny angry mistress.

“Yes,” she says. The tone implies an unspoken 'silly' or 'goofball' or something like that, “both of us felt it was important that you and I be able to talk about the...visit? That seems like a really inappropriate word but...I can't think of anything else right now.” 

“Trip?” That's just amusing to think of.

She shakes her head, “I don't think there's a good word, but in some ways I'm glad it happened, to see you in person.”

I find that hard to believe.

She grips my free hand with one of hers, “No, really. You were my high school crush. I wasn't lying about that. My name wasn't the truth, but if I told you my name was Julia--”

“No, I know. Things wouldn't have gone well,” I ask to shift position and she slides off my lap to sit by my side so I can lean forward, holding the bottle I've not drunk much more of. It tastes better than that stuff that some clients drank, so I tasted here and there. Brent was into wines and those were...different. The hook up with Brent. It was two years ago, and it was one of the few times I broke my rule of mixing substances so after a certain point...though it would have gone that way just with the heroin probably anyway that was a long weekend.

“Exactly, and I figured it was long enough that I would look fairly different and well she—she was dead and you hadn't met me yet.”

“Ah, the great Trouble time whomping,” I shake my head, “and the power of logic. There were a couple of times that I thought, that you reminded me of her—well, of you, but...” she doesn't fill in the blank. It doesn't have to be said.

“Try one of these?” she offers me one of the skewers covered in chicken, “it's a Thai sauce. You prefer Thai, right?”

I take it from her and lick a sample of the sauce, which is good, and take a bite of the chicken. Tiny mistress seems relieved and takes the beer back to have another drink. It's thankfully almost gone but there isn't anything else I remember with a sinking feeling in my stomach and I shouldn't...but I do. I do need it.

“I also wanted—I know I confused you then, apologizing the morning after, but I fell asleep so soon, please don't tease me now you know it's me--”

“Why would I?”

She shakes her head, “Never mind. I just I'd been hoping to go a few times, because I know what it takes to satisfy you, and then I just passed out, and you know, well you know now that I'm good for more than that, but that had been a really long, stressful day. We were zapped from mid-afternoon to early morning.”

“That sucks.”

“Yeah, it was pretty exhausting and you were very good,” she nudges me.

“Thank you,” I have to shake my head, but then no, I told her things, when I was trying to push her away, “I...had concerns. It had been a while...with a woman anyway.”

“I had a feeling,” she says, with a soft smile, and then a brief kiss, “thank you for letting me be with you, even if I was just a tiny, probably crazy, client to you. It was very comforting to be able to be with you,” she leans her head against my shoulder, “and I'm very glad you came back because I do love you, just like I said earlier, two years ago.”  

I have to just sit and rub my fingers across the hearts she drew because the words make me feel as though I'm slipping out of reality again. That Julia is here saying these things to me, and leaning on me, it's almost as if she's going to start humming contentedly these are things which don't happen.

“So,” she says, “Is there anything you want to ask me about your tiny crazy client?”

“Like what?”

“I don't know. I don't know what you would ask, that's why I asked.”

Right. I shrug, picking at the chicken, “There were things which weirded me the hell out at the time but I...guess...they make sense now that the Jennifer was you.”

She giggles and I look at her. She waves a hand, “I was just remembering how you called Dwight 'your Dwight'.”

“Oh, right,” I shrug, “Well, he wasn't just a brick wall or meat shield...and less questions the better in general. Plus some clients frown on you referring to their Dwights as brick walls and meat shields. You seemed that sort.”

“Uh, yes,” she agrees, “You guess things make sense now? You're not sure though.”

“Well, making sure I ate. The...Dwight saying, I mean...when we went to get lunch he was very adamant that you would want him to buy me food, showering me...sort of, I just...” after being with this and then being presented with me she would still.  

 “I told you, last time you were here: I love you no matter what you've done, and I want you to be happy. But there wasn't much I could do, there, and I knew it would be a few years before Pearson made his wish and you could get out of there. Seeing you hurt....it hurt me too, Duke.”

I grip her hand more tightly but I can't get out any words.

“I threatened Vince for you,” she says.

“What?”

“Told him he better save you for a last fucking resort and let you shoot up in peace because if you died that timeline would never end. Hopefully that made him easier to deal with.”

She...to Vince, but then she deals with Vince all the time here, “Well...I mostly dealt with other Guard people? So...I guess.”

“I also told Nathan to stop being a complete dick to you and not try to clean you up.”

“Yeah, that's...not...that worked so well the first time it was the...” I don't finish it.

“He mentioned that; I told him it didn't work because you were still hurting,” Then she continues nervously, “He...recognized me. I told him that if he still gave a fuck about you, to make sure you lived and I promised him that you'd get to a better place where you could be with me and heal. He gave me his word. He still cared about you.”

“I...was gonna say I didn't see Wuornos listening to random tiny crazy lady...but I...” I run my hands over the back of my head and stopping at the back of my neck.

“I showed him pictures of your other self and his other self being mostly friendly. He wanted you to be happy, too.”

I shake my head. .

“...and then I ran into my mother and told her very firmly why she shouldn't completely disapprove of you, and called Dwight in to back me up.”

I look at her, lifting my head without moving my hands because I can feel the crick there and it's not going away, but I just have to watch her say these things and take it in, tiny fierce mistress saying these things for me and I just...

“She liked hearing what you were going to do to Pearson for his shitty wish.”

“Well, she loves you,” I feel it catching in my throat already, and I can barely get it out, “Yo—her funeral was one of the few times we got along...” my eyes are stinging with tears as she wraps me tightly in a hug, but she's here now. She's here, “I love you,” I say into her neck and then kiss her there, breathing her in. She's not dead.

“I love you too, baby,” she says. I have to admit to myself it's sounding less odd. She runs her mouth along my neck the movement making me turn my head so that our lips meet and she kisses me again. It feels almost electric for the few moments until we part, “Come on,” she says, when we do, sounding only slightly regretful because she quickly puts on a slightly wicked smile, “we should finish up and put the food away so I can get you into my bed.”

“Are you--?”

“If you're about to ask me if I'm sure...” she says.

I pull another piece of chicken off the skewer and chew on it instead.

“Besides I'm pretty sure I need to tire you out to make sure you sleep,” her smile gets more wicked, and she pokes me on the nose, “Given there are no alternatives here, right? That was our deal.”

“Yes, tiny mistress.”

“Right.”

I finish the skewer, and half a piece of flat bread that she splits with me and then food things are boxed up and slotted into the fridge and plates are left in the sink given she bats my hand to stop my from washing them, and then takes me by that hand and leads me to her room swaying from side to side slightly as she does to give me a good view of her behind.

She wriggles out of her shirt once we're in the room and throws it at me. I reflexively dodge.

She laughs, coming towards me, “I'm sorry, baby. I meant that to be sexy,” she wraps me in another hug and stands up on tip toe lifting her arms to around my neck to pull me down for a kiss.

“It would have been,” I tell her, when she releases my mouth, “I—I'm just jumpy.”

“That's not your fault,” she holds my chin when she says it, looking me straight in the eyes, “Now,” she takes hold of my shirt at the shoulders and goes to pull it down, looking at me, “what are we doing?”

My brain doesn't want to process things really. She's standing in front of me with no shirt on those beautiful breasts so close to me. I'm not sure how long it is when she taps my lips with her finger.

“I know you're still here,” she says, “I can see you.”

I shake my head, “What do you mean?”

“The Lightscape. Do you remember 'the Jennifer' talking about how she could see things other people couldn't?”

“Vaguely.”

“You look different from your other self in it. When you were coming forward the first time I could tell because when your other self started getting all spacy and I looked at him in there I could see the way he looks changing. You were staring just now so I checked out of habit,” she has a strange expression then.

“That...” I feel slightly embarrassed, “that was admiring your boobs.”

“Oh,” she giggles then.

“But you can see that?” I wave a hand at myself.

She nods, “Yeah...I knew something had changed. I could tell it had something to do with the Pearson Trouble but I wasn't exactly sure I just and then when I called you 'Boss' the reaction, I don't...but it didn't...feel...good, so that's when I started calling you 'baby',” she flushes that cute pink color then, “it's really the first time I've ever used a nickname like that, but you're the only one who gets it,” she cups my cheek, “You're baby. No one else.”

I take her hand and kiss it, “Thank you.”

She looks at me, slightly curious.

“No, it's nice,” I twist my lip trying to find the right way to explain it, “to know for sure, you know? That I'm not being mistaken for someone else and just...taken because I'm here and he's not.”

“That would never happen,” she says, kissing me on the lips again, “I told you before. I love you both. You're both different people even though you're both, Duke. It's a complicated mess in that way, but still. You come from the same point even though there was that split and I will beat that into whoever I have to if they start acting like you're some—some consolation prize or something.”

I have to kiss her right now. I pick her up. It's much easier than I remember, but then this body is stronger, I'm sure, it has to be, and kiss her I'm not sure I can quite kiss her as deeply as I want to. There's not enough, but I try. She must tell how much I want to do more because we're both scrabbling at clothes and soon enough I'm inside her even before we're actually at the bed and I've laid her down on it, and am thrusting against her.  She moans digging her hands into my shoulders driving me on faster and faster.

“Nearly, baby, nearly,” she pants into my shoulder, pulling me closer to kiss me deeply which brings things to climax soon after and then down the other side.

I'm going to move off her and lay down but she starts kissing me again and carefully rolls me over so that I'm on my back and continues the kissing and drags her fingers down my chest. She kisses down my chest until she reaches my nipple and sucks there for a moment before kissing across to the other nipple and toying playfully with that one as well teasing me into recharging.

As I rise again she begins to ride me back and forth and she makes the occasional side to side motion which is crazy awesome.

It takes me a little while to be able to focus and buck against her to help spur things along once I've gotten to rhythm though she picks up the pace, driving things almost to madness and I take hold of her hips to keep myself stable and to have any hope of keeping along with her until things crescendo and the wave subsides once more and she leans down on my chest and I attempt to pull things back together in my brain but everything is a strange combination of fog and fervor.  

“How are you doing?” she murmurs, pulling herself up, off the connection and pulling her face level with mine.

All I can manage is a contented noise and I ruffle her hair with my hand.

“That's good then,” she looks very pleased with herself. She kisses me and runs her hand down my cheek, “Let's get properly up on the bed.”

Wasn't that my line before? Still we shift until we're lying next to each other, heads on the pillows and I wrap my arms around her and rest my head against her chest which is a very comfortable position, she runs her hand through my hair a few times and kisses me on the forehead. I look up at her.

“Have I worn out my gypsy?” she asks, sounding incredulous and also full of tease.

I pull a face at her and reach up to kiss her again. She grins into my mouth and nips my lips a little before giving in to the kiss, sucking at me and probing my mouth with her tongue. I return that our tongues playing with each others and sitting up to hold her and pull her close to me in that position, and then we're grasping at each other and gripping at each other and it's not quite that fever of desperation that is back but we're touching and it's somewhere between the first time now and the tenderness of the kitchen, slow and steady and gentle, but stoking a fire that builds and builds until the entire boat could be burning down and neither of us would care, and then I'm truly gone, and all is peace.