What did you think of Ars' mask cracking like it did in the last chapter? I think we knew Shawn's uncle had a dark side. I'm a bit surprised he revealed it so readily. In this chapter, the guys head home. All Church wants is some rest with his husband. Let's see if he gets it.
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Crown Vic to a Parallel World: Stolen Love The third and final installment of the ongoing adventures of Church Philips
48 Home
Shawn and I lounged together on the wide, low, built-in sofa that made up the seating on one side of the luxury jet we'd chartered to return home from the capital. Opposite was still the wide picture window that showed the whole of the view of the outside. The afternoon sky that we flew through was beautiful, rich blue and perfectly clear all the way to heaven. On the ground, I could see the fine patchwork of towns, cities, and countryside we traveled over, a carpet of humanity that added to the view.
I leaned back against the arm of the sofa with one leg up on the seat and the other sprawled out with its heel on the floor. Shawn laid against my chest, with his butt in my lap and his legs stretched out to match mine. He'd gathered my arms around his torso and threaded my fingers together over his flat stomach. He rested his hands on top of mine. His head was on the front of my shoulder, the crown of it even with my chin.
I was busy thinking about how, whenever we weren't having sex, under any other circumstance, Shawn seemed to seek safety in my arms. It was like he retreated into my larger size and was content to let me be `the big spoon' so to speak. When we held each other, I typically held him instead of the other way around. However, when it came to sex, Shawn liked to dominate, and I liked to be dominated.
In that one circumstance, the most intimate, where one would think my larger size would matter the most, it mattered the least. Perhaps, if I looked at it from another angle, my size did matter the most and that's why it meant so much for Shawn to be the masterful one, and for me to submit to his mastery. Maybe it was his way of giving me what I wanted without having to sacrifice what he wanted.
I'd thought about these things before and reached no conclusion. It wasn't something I ever wanted to ask Shawn about, because I didn't want to risk breaking the spell of our lovemaking. We both enjoyed the roles we played, and neither was set in stone. There were times when I led and he followed, they were simply fewer and farther between.
Shawn didn't put much stock in labels, and in my time with him, I'd learned to value them less than I had at one time. What we liked, was just what we liked, and the whys and wherefores didn't really matter a damn. Thinking about it was something I did sometimes, like pondering the meaning of life, but it was never a riddle I planned to solve.
My thoughts wandered back to the present when the view out of the picture window changed. The last of the towns had fallen away behind us and the endless plains dominated the view. That meant we were making the final leg of our journey and would be landing at our airstrip in about an hour.
We hadn't bothered to let anyone know we were coming. We'd done that deliberately as a way to avoid a `to do' over our return. I was tired and Shawn was tired. We'd been traveling all day. The discussion we'd had on the first leg of the trip, about children and who would raise them, had been emotionally taxing. The visit with Ars had been even more so.
All that either of us wanted was say a quick `hello' to everyone and retire to the apartment for a quiet evening together. I planned to have dinner from the culinarian and spend time in the hot tub before going to bed early. I didn't even plan on sex. I was much more interested in relaxation and togetherness before Shawn returned to work the following day.
The first hint that I wasn't going to get what I wanted came from the co-pilot of the plane. He entered the passenger cabin from the cockpit to speak to us as we neared the house. I knew we were getting very close because the black pillar of the mountain had come into view through the window. "Uh, gentlemen," the deferential co-pilot muttered as he approached.
The man seemed nervous, and I didn't know why. I wondered if he was genuinely worried about something or if he simply didn't want to interrupt the quality time I was having with Shawn. Either way I didn't want to hear from him. In my mind, I said something like, `just fly the damn plane and skip the seatbelt warning.' I didn't say anything aloud. I assumed that, whatever he wanted, was something that was part of his job. I dutifully kept my mouth shut and waited for the co-pilot to come to his point. He came to it in short order.
"Uhm...we're getting close to the destination, but you said the landing strip at the residence isn't tended, and well...it seems that it is. Someone is hailing us on the main communicator, on all frequencies. They tell us we need a code to land and if we don't provide it, they will...they will," the man trailed off and seemed to search his memory for something that he'd mislaid, "what did they say exactly? They will not be responsible for our safety."
"What?" Shawn and I asked, almost in unison.
The co-pilot waved a vague hand toward the open cockpit door. "I can put the communication over the intercom if you wish to speak with them. Perhaps you can clear up the...uh...issue."
I asked him to do it. Unseen speakers in the cabin blared to life with a stern, business-like voice in the middle of repeating himself. "...I say again...if you attempt to land without clearance, you will be fired upon."
`What the fuck?' My brain asked me. Since I didn't have any answers, I decided to ask the stern party on the speakers. "Who is this?" I asked the inside of the plane.
"Who is this?" The voice asked back sharply. "We ask the questions, and you answer them. We asked you for the landing code. If you refuse to provide the code, we will not permit you to land."
"Not permit us to land." I repeated, more for myself so I could hear it again than for anyone else.
The co-pilot didn't seem to like the way the discussion was going. "I'll tell the pilot to redirect us to Oppidum. We can land there...figure out what's going on."
"FUCK THAT!" I shouted. Shawn flinched at my volume and moved off me to sit at the far end of the sofa. Released from under him, I stood up to stare down the co-pilot. I pointed an angry finger toward the picture window. "That fucking runway down there is mine. NO ONE tells me I can't land on MY FUCKING RUNWAY! You hear that DOUCHEBAG?" I yelled at the ceiling of the plane. I hoped my voice was filling the hidden microphone to be transmitted to the ground.
Hasty murmuring came through the cabin speakers. I got the impression that someone was talking with their hand over the mic. The murmuring went on for several seconds before the stern voice came back on. "Permission to land is granted." It said.
"Goddamned right." I grunted and sat back down on the couch.
The co-pilot muttered a nervous thank you and went back to the cockpit. He closed the door behind him.
"Maybe I should call Bem." Shawn suggested, always the reasonable one.
"No," I insisted, "fuck that. This is my...our fucking house. I wanna land a goddamned plane, I'll land a goddamned plane. I'll land a hundred goddamned planes if I want. Don't need anyone's fucking permission. I'll straighten this the fuck out."
I crossed my arms over my chest and sulked angrily while I waited for the plane to set down. When we didn't set down that second, I griped to pass the time. "Having a nice fucking trip...everything just fucking fine...just want to be left the fuck alone...but nooooooo, gotta have some douchebag voice on the goddamn communicator, asking us for the goddamn secret fucking code."
"Church." Shawn's voice called from the other end of the couch.
"Yeah?"
"Relax."
"I am relaxed!" I insisted angrily. "This is me relaxed!"
Shawn pursed his lips and eyed me over glasses he wasn't wearing. I recognized that look. It was the look that said `yeah, right.'
I almost childishly doubled down on my assertion, but I decided that Shawn was right, and I was a lunatic. I took a deep slow breath and realized I was having another of what my therapist would call a disproportionate reaction to a situation. The simple reality was that I'd said a few nasty words to a stranger and that stranger had given me what I wanted. There was no more reason to grumble and stew. I slid along the length of the couch, bumped my hip against Shawn's, and kissed the side of his face. "Sorry." I said and threw my arm over his shoulders.
"Yes, yes you are, but I love you anyway." He teased me.
I laughed with Shawn, and everything went back to being fine while we waited to land. I used the time to say a silent apology to God for my blasphemy. I figured if I was going to be a believer, or a believer in training, I needed to stop taking the Lord's name in vain. I made a mental note of that decision and kissed the side of Shawn's face again.
"What was that for?" He asked.
"Just for being you." I answered.
We were on the ground in less than ten minutes. The plane rode to the end of the runway and taxied toward the hangar. It stopped just before the entrance, and the co-pilot came to see us off the plane. He wished us a good day and made sure we had the charter company's information in case we wanted to use them again.
I disingenuously said that their charter service would be our first choice every time we needed transportation and departed with a handshake. Shawn went down the fold out steps first and I followed with the bags. Shawn stopped short after only descending a couple steps and I almost ran into the back of him.
"What the fuck?" I asked and raised my eyes from watching my feet on the steps to see what had brought progress to such an abrupt halt.
There were two women and a man gathered at the bottom of the steps. All three were dressed in charcoal grey uniforms that reminded me of the guards at The HALL. All three `guards' pointed pistol-style energy weapons at Shawn. I got pissed, far more pissed than I'd been on the plane. I built a wall between the grey uniformed people and us and used my telekinesis to move Shawn around behind me. He protested, but I ignored him.
I also used my telekinesis to move the bags out of my hands and over the side of the steps to the ground. Freed from my burdens, I stomped down the steps, directly toward the people and the weapons they pointed. I shouted as I went. "YOU BETTER HAVE A GOOD FUCKING REASON TO POINT THOSE TOYS AT MY HUSBAND!" I bellowed as I reached the ground and stood even with the people I'd started thinking of as guards.
One of the women stepped forward and took careful aim with her weapon. "Don't come any closer." She said evenly. "We will shoot."
"SHOOT THEN! SEE WHAT THE FUCK IT GETS YOU!" I shouted at them from my side of my magic barrier.
Shawn came down the steps and stood sort of next to me and sort of behind me. "What's happening?" He asked. Shawn was afraid, and that made me even madder than I was already.
"I don't know." I admitted to him and raised my voice to the guards. "On whose authority do you threaten us on our property?" I demanded.
The male guard took up my question with a preemptive shout. "We ask the questions here!"
I dropped my face in my hands to rub it hard. "THAT'S IT!" I shouted into my palms. I dropped my hands and closed the three guards in a box of my magic.
They weren't immediately aware of what happened, but they seemed to understand something had changed. I presumed they knew something was wrong when they could no longer feel the constant breeze of the plains. I jammed my hands in my pockets to keep them from forming fists, gathered the bags in my magic, and started to walk toward where I'd parked the Vic when we left. I called for Shawn to come with me.
He fell in step next to me as we headed for the far side of the hangar. "They're freaking out." Shawn announced as we walked.
I assumed he meant the guards I'd left locked inside my magic. I paid momentary attention to what I felt through the magic. The guards were pounding on all sides of their invisible prison, presumably looking for a weak spot. I knew they wouldn't find one and really didn't care how freaked-out they were. I told Shawn as much.
Shawn didn't feel the same way I did. He took the charitable approach the way he usually did. "They're probably trying to do their jobs."
"I'm not going to feel bad for this one!" I yelled into space and kept walking. "If they are trying to do a job, they fucking failed." I wasn't sure what had happened at the estate during the week that Shawn and I had been on what I'd started to call our second honeymoon, but I could guess. I assumed Bem hired a security firm to protect the house. I assumed he thought he did the right thing. I assumed he thought I was going to agree to live in a police state. I was looking forward to explaining to him just how wrong he was.
We found the Vic where I'd left it. I tossed the bags in the trunk, jumped in the driver's side, and started the engine. Shawn got in beside me. I waited for the racing engine to idle down, then jerked the gear selector into `drive' and throttled the car into a tire spinning U-turn. I allowed the back of the car to churn its way in a one-hundred-eighty-degree arc to point us around the rear of the hangar toward the house. When the car came around, straightened its course with a flick of counter-steer, and accelerated across the plains. As we passed behind the hangar, I released the magic that imprisoned the guards.
It took less than a minute for us to draw even with the back of the house and to begin to pass the climbing wall. I looked up at it and saw that Andy and Comet were making use of the wall. They waved to us from a resting ledge a couple hundred feet up. I blew the horn at them, waved, and kept driving toward the garage.
When I reached it, I was disappointed to find the door closed. I turned the car to back it in and pressed the button on my phone to open the door. When the door opened, three more grey uniformed guards swarmed out and surrounded the Vic. One guard stood behind with his weapon drawn, one ran to the front with her weapon drawn, and the last came to the driver's door with his weapon drawn.
I built a box very close around the car to protect Shawn and me from accidental shooting, put the car in park, and killed the engine. I rested my forehead on the skinny plastic of the steering wheel and muttered `why' to myself. I inverted the box from around the car to separately encase the guards that were in front of it and behind. I wrapped the guard at my window in my magic from his feet to his neck and demanded answers.
"I'm going to ask you a question," I warned him, "maybe more than one. If you say that you ask the questions around here, I'll fucking kill you. Do you understand?"
The poor guard's eyes were as big as dinner plates as he realized how helpless he was inside my magic. He tried to look to his companions for help. When he saw they were in a similar situation as him, his worry grew to panic. He lowered his wide eyes to mine and stared at me like I was a beast from his nightmares. I tried to take advantage of his obvious fear to demand information from him. "Who hired you?"
"B-b-b-be-bb-bem." He stammered.
"Where is he?"
"On...on...on...on way!"
"We'll wait." I announced and let myself rest against the plush seatback of the old sedan. Shawn's emotions disapproved over how I was handling the situation, but I didn't ask for his thoughts on the matter. I'd already decided how I was going to do things and it wasn't something I planned to debate.
It took several minutes, but eventually I heard the man-door to the garage open and slam. Bem jogged up to the side of the car. He had a serious look on his face and a harsh set in his shoulders. "Release them!" He demanded.
I did as I was told. Bem dismissed the guards with an angry snap of his fingers. They retreated through the door into the house. Bem scowled at me for a long beat, his right hand drifted into his pants pocket and his left hand found its way to his right shoulder where it kneaded the tension from the muscles.
Bem rolled his head back into his shoulders like his neck was tight, let out a long sigh, and shook his head at me. "It's nice to have you back." He bent down just enough to look across the car and said the same thing to Shawn. "Come on in. I won't take up much of your time, but I need some of it."
I restarted the car, backed it into place, and parked it up. I grabbed the bags from the trunk and followed Shawn and Bem into my kitchen. Shawn and Bem sat at the island, and I leaned against the kitchen counter. I offered drinks, which both men refused. I got myself a cup of coffee and waited for Bem to explain himself. "I hired guards." He announced.
"I see that." I quipped to cut him off.
Bem pointed at me and scowled along his arm. "Just don't." He snapped.
I shrugged and Bem talked on. "This is the way it has to be. There's a great deal of money on this estate all the time. `Money' meaning wealthy people." Bem explained with his fingers up in air quotes. "The estate itself is a beacon that shines money. I don't like it, but what happened to Shawn could happen again. I think it will happen again if we don't take precautions. If it does happen, it won't be Shawn's father and a relatively harmless gangster like Domus, it could be a real ruthless criminal or a terrorist. I'm not going to risk my family because I don't want to deal with the minor inconvenience of having a security force."
I didn't like what Bem was saying. I knew he was right, but that didn't make me like it. I saw a piece of my freedom about to disappear behind a bunch of walking, talking grey uniforms and I hated the idea. I had visions of getting out of my hot tub after a fuck and running into a grey uniform on the way to the bedroom. I had visions of wanting to go up to the mountain and having to clear it with a grey uniform.
I decided that if I really wanted to be difficult, I could stand on the fact that I built the estate, and I owned it, with Shawn of course, and I was well within my rights to throw the guards, and Bem, and everyone else off of it. I didn't want to do that though. That wasn't the point of the place. The whole point of the estate was to be a place of gathering, not one of solitude. I exhaled my own reluctant sigh and felt my shoulders hang in resignation. "Make me like it," I challenged Bem, "if you can."
Bem's face brightened up. He seemed heartened that I didn't refuse outright. I guessed that's what he'd been expecting. Before Shawn's kidnapping, that's exactly what I would have done, but what happened illustrated how dangerous the world could be to ultra-wealthy people. I reserved the right to refuse later on, but I didn't refuse in that instant.
Bem fairly launched himself into his plans. "What happened to Shawn was typical of most kidnappings. The Steward and our team have been working together since we recovered Shawn, to piece together the events in order to prevent them from being repeated in the future. What we've come up with is like this.
"Domus decided to have Shawn kidnapped. His first step was some research. He easily found out about Shawn's medical practice in Oppidum. Then he was able to compile a list of the residents out here, and a list of our servants. Once he had that information, he dispatched people, this Pytho woman and others, to watch our movements in town and to probe our household for a weak link.
"Oppidum is a very small place and we're very well known within it. Everyone talks about us and those that work for us. It was easy for them to figure out Shawn's routine and for them to find the weak spot in our household, Ancillarum. I know it was easy because they didn't approach anyone else. They went right to the person they had the best chance with, and he played right into their hands."
"He absolutely fuckin' did." I grumbled.
"Hey." Shawn admonished me with a single word. I shut my mouth so Bem could go on.
"Once they had a little information, and they found out it would be difficult for them to get more, they made their plans and struck. I don't think this operation was in the works for more than a month, and maybe as little as two weeks, before Shawn was taken. It wasn't much of a plan, but we'd left ourselves so wide open, they didn't need much of a plan.
"They knew that, as a practicing physician, Shawn would have an answering service for emergencies. They either hacked the system, or got Shawn's number from someone...again, not difficult to do, and called with a fake emergency to get Shawn to town. They landed a plane in Shawn's flightpath between here and town, something else that was very easy to do. The flightpath is always the same, a straight line from here to town. Then they waited for their false `emergency situation' to play out." Bem used air quotes around the words.
"Shawn did exactly what they expected him to do. He flew into town, found there was no emergency, dismissed the error as an error, and set out to return home. On his way, he received a call for help, and being Shawn, instead of being suspicious, he was glad he was in a position to help where help was needed.
"Shawn landed to help and was stunned and grabbed. The kidnappers then flew Shawn directly to that empty office building, dropped him off, and left. With the amount of culinarian food base that he had there, he could have been locked away for a full month and not run short on sustenance. Another family who didn't have our personnel resources might have had to stand for that. They might have had to pay what was asked. Even with our resources, without Primis' help, we might still have no leads."
Bem took a breath to go on, but my patience for his monologue was fading. Most of what he told us, I'd already assumed, or Shawn and I had reasoned out during our talks between romps at the seashell hotel. I wasn't interested in a recap. I just wanted to know what the fuck Bem proposed to do about it for the future. I told Bem as much.
"Here's what I've come up with." Bem veered away from his dissertation on the kidnapping and leapt into his plans. "The current guards are temporary. They're a protection service I hired until we can find permanent people. What I want are servants who are also guards. It will cost us all some money, but I don't think any of us mind that.
"We will offer positions to all the current servants and the current crop of temporary guards. Whoever wants to stay will be paid three or four times their normal rate, but the servants will have to go through full special forces training and requalify once a year while the guards will have to train to be first class servants. We will probably need to cast a wider net to staff this place with a full complement, but the good pay should attract enough of the right kind of people."
I patiently listened to Bem explain, but I felt I was still missing something. I voiced my confusion and let him drill down into greater detail. "We'll need three full staffs. That will give us enough for a rotation of two weeks on and two weeks off with overlap. All the household servants will be guards who are trained to protect us and well-armed. This will keep us safe without surrounding us with an army of uniforms.
"We will have to give up some freedom, like the freedom of private travel. For our aircraft, no more flying yourself. We will have pilots and flight attendants who will be guards. If we need to go into town, we will be accompanied by a personal valet or shopping assistant. These people will be trained to be accommodating at all times, in all things, except when it comes to our safety.
"That's the most important part of this, Church." Bem directed the attention he had been splitting between Shawn and me, just on me. I gathered that meant I was to pay attention. "For them to protect us out in public, we must listen to them. Under normal circumstances, they will be an assistant, but if they shift to their role of protector, you must let them perform their main function. If you duck them, or harry them, or make their jobs difficult, we may as well not bother to have them at all."
I set my coffee cup down and stopped to rub my face with both hands. "Price tag?" I asked my palms. I raised my head and asked it again. "What will it cost?"
Bem conceded that was a consideration. "Between household servants, personal assistants, and travel, we'll need three rotating staffs of twenty, for a total of sixty full time employees. We'll also need a security director for each staff, plus a manager to be in charge of the entire organization, plus a second in command to work with him or her. That's a total team of sixty-five full-time people. With salary, annual training, benefits, and transportation expenses to and from town, plus housing and meals while they're in residence, ten million a year is a good round figure."
I hated to admit it, but Bem was right about everything he'd said. We needed security and I didn't like it, but Bem had come up with a neat way to have the guards we needed in the most unobtrusive way possible. I appreciated that. I looked at Shawn and thought about how hard it had been to be without him. Even after we found out that his father was the one that instigated the kidnapping, and would likely keep him safe, I was still beside myself with worry.
If anything ever happened to Shawn, I would die. If anything happened to him because I refused Bem's very sensible proposal...I couldn't even imagine that. As an afterthought, I recalled what Shawn had said about having children. That made security even more important.
"Alright, Bem," I gave up all opposition at the end of another sigh, "you win. I'll even pay for it, all of it, if you'll organize it."
Shawn was immediately relieved when I agreed to Bem's proposal. I knew he would be. It was the right decision to make. It seemed doing the right thing was easier when Shawn was involved. Bem was talking again, and I had to get back to paying attention. "Of course, I'll organize it, but we'll all pay for it. There's no reason for anyone to carry more than their share of the load. I think..."
"I don't care." I butted in. I suddenly felt very tired and impatient to be alone with Shawn again. I was no longer interested in Bem's security scheme. I'd agreed to it, offered to pay for it, that seemed plenty to me. I rested my eyes on Bem to see how much longer I'd have to endure him. His face was scowling again, and I wondered what I'd done.
"What do you mean, you don't care?" He demanded bitterly. "I just spent a lot of time..."
I cut him off again. "Not what I meant...that's not what I meant." I raised my hands in surrender. "I meant the details don't interest me. That's not even what I meant. I just...I trust you, so the...nuances don't...I mean...I don't need them. OK? Is there anything else that we absolutely have to attend to, because if not, I'm very tired and I just want to go to my apartment...our apartment...my and Shawn's apartment and lay down. Please."
Bem's face relaxed out of its scowl. My stammering explanation seemed to mollify him. He stood from his seat and moved to hug Shawn. "I'm glad you're home." He said tenderly to my husband. "We were worried. Don't ever scare us like that again."
Shawn promised and thanked Bem for everything he did to find him and get him back. Bem refused his thanks and said he was certain that Shawn would do the same for him if the need ever arose. The two men parted, and Bem left us alone.
"What's wrong?" Shawn asked from his seat when Bem had gone.
I thought about how to answer that question, but nothing came to mind that made any sense. "I guess I'm just tired. All the sudden I felt like my body was heavy and old and I wanted to lay down with you in my arms. I just couldn't stand to hear the whole rigmarole on the arrangements and the guards and the training and all of that. I know Bem's got it nailed. What the fuck do I have to offer to that conversation?"
Shawn got up from his chair and came around the island to where I leaned against the counter. He used his soft hands to pull my face down to his and kissed me gently, barely brushing his lips against mine. "Let's see if we can get upstairs without running into anyone else." He whispered to my face. He used me to steady himself and stepped out of his shoes to put his socked feet flat on the floor.
"What are you...?" I started to ask when he put his index finger to my lips to shush me.
"Quiet." He whispered. "We're sneaking."
I felt Shawn's mood shift. His emotions told me he felt silly and childish. It would be a little adventure to see if we could tiptoe through the house without being caught. I smiled at his fun and stepped out of my shoes to match him. "What about the bags?" I asked.
"Leave them. They'd only slow us down."
I nodded my agreement and picked up my shoes. "I'll follow you." I whispered.
Shawn darted across the kitchen in a running crouch. He stopped at the door to the rumpus room and looked back to wave me forward. I squatted down and crossed the kitchen the same way he had. I felt a swelling of satisfaction from Shawn that I was playing with him. He cracked the rumpus room door open and slipped through. He kept his profile low and his body tight to the wall. He craned his head up to look around the empty room and set off in a mad dash from the door to a nearby easy chair. He made it to the chair and stopped behind it to shelter and peak over the top. He scanned the room for unseen enemies.
Shawn signaled me to follow, but only as far as the chair, then he set off in another dash from chair to couch. I followed as he led, and we leapfrogged the room from furniture piece to furniture piece in short installments. We made it as far as the door the led to the stairs that went up to the main-floor entryway. We would still have to climb the steps, cross the entryway to our private stairs, and climb those to our apartment.
Shawn waved for my attention. He used the first two fingers of his right hand to point to his eyes and then my eyes to tell me to pay attention. He pointed at me, then to himself, then to the stairs. He pointed at each of us again, then used his fingers like little walking legs to indicate moving quickly, then pointed to himself and to me. I nodded like I had a clue what he wanted, which I didn't. Shawn's version of charades left a great deal to the imagination. He cracked the door open and looked through. He held one finger in the air to make me wait while he did it.
Suddenly he threw the door wide and set off in another running crouch. He tore up the stairs and stopped at the top. I followed right behind him and almost mowed him down when he halted at the head of the steps. He made a bunch more hand motions I didn't understand, including one that looked like a slithering snake.
He craned his head around the door jamb to look into the entryway. Apparently satisfied, he launched himself in a bold, upright run across the grand space. He didn't run in a straight line though. He ran in short, choppy dodges back and forth on the black glass floor. I followed his example as best as I could, but my greater weight and lesser agility made it difficult.
I almost ruined our silent crossing of the room by erupting in a laughing fit when I realized what he was doing. He was crossing the large space in a serpentine pattern. I guessed at some point he'd run across my memory of the original version of the film Meet the Parents,' and was doing his version of the serpentine scene.'
If not for the intense gravity that Shawn and I were pretending, that I didn't want to ruin, I would have been in hysterics. I didn't want to ruin the fun we were having, so I stuck my tongue between my teeth and bit down until I thought I'd taste blood. I was willing to do just about anything to keep running without laughing.
We reached the last set of steps and Shawn paused to eye the path forward. Without warning he plunged into the stairwell and charged his way up. I followed him at a full-on run. Shawn paused at the top, just long enough to whisper his name to our apartment door and jerk it open. He held it for me to run through and followed after me. He shut the door and leaned his body against it like an unseen enemy was about to try to force their way inside.
"Made it," he said through heaving breaths, "but only just. You did well to stick to your training." I knocked my sock-clad heels together and saluted him. "Sir, yes sir," I whispered with my salute, "thank you sir. And I must tell you sir it is an honor and a privilege to serve with sir. I would follow sir to the ends of Solum if only for the privilege of following sir."
Shawn stood off the door and smiled broadly. He broke character and ended the fantasy. "Ah...you just like looking at my ass."
"It's true." I admitted in my conversational volume.
"Do you want to?" He asked and tilted his head toward the bed.
"I do, but do you mind if we do it later? I'm so tired."
Shawn yawned and stretched his arms over his head. "I guess I am too. Let's take a nap."
"Nap...I certainly need a nap."
We undressed, got into bed, and settled against each other, both of us on our backs and facing the ceiling. Shawn's body was pressed to mine, my right arm was around him, and he was using my bicep as a pillow. "I love you," I said to him, "more than I could ever express."
"I love you, at least that much."
I tightened my arm around him and felt all the tension of the day and the past days and the past years leave my body like a great purge of negativity. I thought again that as long as I had Shawn, my life was complete. I shut my eyes and let my mind relax into sleep.