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| To Live is to Die | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: March 5, 2008, 12:49 am (59,977 Views) | |
| Metalicious | March 6, 2008, 7:56 am Post #16 |
Blackened
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A little more before I head to work... **************************************************************** I’m sure Lars started rethinking his decision to give me my own room in his house when I woke up screaming at four a.m., tears streaming down my face. He rushed in from his room, clad only in boxers, and a terrified look on his face. “Baby? Charlie? What’s wrong! Are you hurt? Sick? What?” He climbed onto the bed and took me in his arms, rocking me back and forth as I sobbed. I squirmed out of his embrace and scuttled across the bed, shaking with fear. Fucking nightmares. I hadn’t had them in months and all of a sudden they were back in full force. “D-d-don’t touch me. Puh-please. Not right now. Sorry, Danish,” I gasped between hiccupping sobs. He looked so scared and worried, and that only made me cry more. “I’m fine. Really. Just a bad dream. I’m suh-sorry I woke you,” I mumbled through my tears. He shimmied over to where I was huddled against the headboard, and slowly reached for my hand. “It’s okay, sweetie, it’s just me. Nobody’s gonna hurt you, okay? It’s only me. Everything’s okay,” he said in a low, quiet voice. “Wanna talk about it?” I shuddered and shook my head. Hell no. “I can’t. I’m sorry. It’s too awful.” “Okay, that’s okay, little one. That’s just fine,” he said, trying to sooth me. He sighed. “Poor baby girl.” I looked at him, startled. “What? What’d you call me?” “Baby girl.” He saw my face and instantly looked apologetic. “I’ll stick to calling you little one, hmm? I gather the other is somebody else’s name for you?” “Something like that,” I whispered, this time not flinching when he reached out for me. Gathering me in his arms he pulled me onto his lap and rocked me, holding my head against his chest. “Must be some pretty scary stuff to get you this worked up. You sure you don’t wanna talk about it?” His hand was tracing little circles on my back and I started to relax against him. “I don’t think I can, Lars. Not right now. But thanks for asking. I’m so sorry I woke you up.” “Shhh, don’t worry about that. Does this happen often? Did I sleep through it last night? Although I can’t imagine that’s possible, I mean, neighborhood dogs are howling at my windows now. You were loud!” I let out a little giggle and he squeezed me tighter. “There, see? If you can laugh a bit, it can’t be all that bad. You’re okay, sweetie.” “Thank you,” I whispered. “This hasn’t happened in months. I’ve no idea what triggered it. Lack of brownies maybe?” “Awww, and she’s making jokes! I knew you’d recover quickly. Here, just sit there for a second, I’ll be right back.” He jogged back into his room and I heard running water. He came back in with a wet facecloth and wiped gently at my face. “My mom always did this for me when I cried as a kid. I can’t believe I missed the seventeen opportunities to do this for you yesterday,” he grinned at me. ”Swear to God, Danish, I rarely cry. I haven’t the foggiest idea why I’m all weepy girl lately. This is crazy!” He gave me a look of disbelief. “You expect me to believe you don’t burst into tears at the news? Hallmark ads? Posters of cute little kittens stuck in trees?” He continued to run the cloth over my tear-streaked face. “Seriously! I’m a movies and music girl! Those are the only things I cry at. Sad movies or music that really moves me.” “Nothing to do with, um, being a girl?” He said, pointedly looking down. I blushed and grabbed the washcloth to hit him with it. “No. I’m moody and bitchy all month,” I grinned as I got him in the face with the cloth. He yanked it back from me and wiped at my face again. “Ahh, Danish, that feels so nice. You could work in a spa, if the whole rock star thing doesn’t work out for you,” I closed my eyes and smiled. He chuckled and took my face in his hands. “Only for you, little one. Only for you.” He threw the damp cloth on the floor and stretched out on the bed. “I’ll stay in here, alright? I can keep the nightmares away.” I leaned back against the headboard. “I’m not sure anybody can do that, buddy. But thanks anyway. I’d like you to stay.” Laying down beside him, I pulled the blankets over us. “How’re those new pajamas workin’ out for you?” “I love them. I saw the silky ones in there too, but I think these might become my favorite pair. They have sheep!” He laughed. “Yes, I noticed. I can count them if I have trouble falling asleep. C’mere, you,” and he tugged on my top until I was up against him. The horrors of the nightmare subsided, and I fell asleep to Lars’ soft voice, counting flannel sheep. I woke up to the same softly accented voice, and a hand running through my hair. “C’mon, little one, wake up. It’s a beautiful, sunny day. No nightmares in sight.” I opened one eye and saw Lars lying with his head propped up on his elbow. “Mmm, good morning. What time is it?” I rolled over and stretched my arms above my head. “Almost nine. I wasn’t sure if you’re doing the office thing today, but I need to be in the studio in about an hour. I thought maybe I could buy you a lovely, healthy, nutritious breakfast at McDonald’s before work if you like.” “Ooooooh! That would be great. But I’ll buy, okay? Least I can do after you’ve gone to all this trouble with the room and everything. So, whaddya say? Total home makeover, brownies and movies, and gorgeous clothes for me, two Egg Mcmuffins for you, and we’ll call it even?” I saw the pillow coming at me but was too slow to roll out of its path and got nailed in the head. “So that’s a no?” I grinned as I threw the pillow back at him. “Course it’s a no, motherfucker! You still owe me dinner! Don’t think I’m gonna forget about that. Thursday night works for me. Now then,” he said, strolling over to open the closet. “What will you be wearing today? Want me to help you pick out something from this?” He pulled out the wicker basket and wiggled his eyebrows at me. “No, perv, I can manage. And today’s actually gonna be a jeans and hoodie day. My last day before summer vacation, I’m just tying up loose ends.” He flopped down on the loveseat and threw me a quizzical look. “You’re going away on vacation? Without me? I wasn’t consulted about this!” I got up and started making the bed. “Not going anywhere, Danish. Just taking a little break. As a condition of joining the firm, I had them write into the contract that I’d always take June through August off. I get a quarter less salary as a result, but it’s gonna be worth it.” I finished the bed and went to sit beside him, lifting his legs and setting them in my lap. “Wow. And they don’t mind? You just take off for three months and come back in September?” “If there’s an emergency, they can call me and I’ll come in, but they probably won’t need to. Most of my caseload’s been wrapped up, and the remaining ones are being passed over to co-counsel, most of whom are more experienced than me anyway, so the clients aren’t complaining.” “Sweet. So what, you’re just gonna kick back, lay on the beach, and every once in a while get drunk and come over to yell at me and have some tea?” He nudged my arm playfully with his feet. “Yeah, pretty much. Except for the days when I’m hanging out in my friend’s garage, and the nights when I’m tending another friend’s bar.” “Wait, wait. Hold the phone,” he looked serious. “You have other friends?” He grinned suddenly and ran out of the room before I could find anything to whack him with. After a delicious and truly unhealthy breakfast with Lars, I spent a few hours in my office making phone calls and ensuring everything on my to-do list got crossed off. Jackson poked his head in briefly to ask if I liked the room, and reminded me he’d be coming on Saturday to the barbecue I was having. Summer seemed to have arrived in San Fran in full force, and I felt it was only right to celebrate it with copious amounts of beer, red meat and loud music. Three of the partners stopped by to wish me a pleasant summer, and a fourth came in to ask for use of my office while I was away. Then about six more dropped by with various papers for me to sign and questions about a few of the cases I’d handed over. I was busy packing up the stash of extra work clothes I’d kept in my desk when I heard another knock at my door. “You may enter only if you haven’t come bearing legal documents,” I muttered over my shoulder. “I come bearing nothing at all. That okay?” I spun around at the sound of Kirk’s voice. ”Hey! What’s up? Nice to see you again,” I stepped over the pile of clothes and was pulled into a friendly hug. Ahhh, he smelled so nice. “Been surfing today? You smell like sun and sea.” He nodded and I gestured for him to take a seat while I continued packing. “This is cool. I don’t know many lawyers, but I know for damn sure that ours don’t keep acoustic guitars in their place of work.” He picked up the battered instrument and started strumming lazily. ”Yeah, a bunch of us decided last fall that if we were gonna be pulling all nighters on a regular basis, we’d better have some toys to keep us going, so we looted the petty cash fund and hit a used music store. Three of us have guitars, one guy’s got a little keyboard, and my buddy Matt had a drumkit in his office for a while, but that eventually had to be returned. Little too loud.” “So you stay up late, working on shit and playing riffs? That sounds shockingly similar to my job!” He looked up from his playing and grinned at me. “Yup. Brilliant masterpieces come out of the three-day no-sleep sessions especially. Um, lemme see, I think my favorite was ‘This Bastard is So Guilty It Hurts’. Very bluesy. Also high on the request list is the ever popular ‘I’ve Been Wearing the Same Shirt for Four Days and Even My Hair Smells Like Ass’.” “Don’t forget the instrumental version of ‘We Can’t Win This Case, So Let’s Give Up’, which is basically you, me and Derek sitting around, plucking miserably at the guitars and crying,” Jackson joked from the doorway. “Hey, man, how you doin’?” Kirk stood up to shake Jackson’s hand. “I’m cool. Just dropped by to see if the lady wanted me to bring any of my fantastic music collection to her little get-together this weekend.” “You know, sweetie, I think we can do without Kool and the Gang and Britney this once. But thank you all the same. Kirk, you should come. Barbecue at my place on Saturday. I was about to fax a note to HQ, but maybe I can just tell you the details and you’ll pass the word along?” “Sounds good. Lars has your address, yeah?” “Yup. Anytime after 2 p.m. Bring anyone, or anything, you like. And Jackson, don’t think I don’t see you trying to sneak that huge stack of papers past me. I’m not touching that, so take it off my desk!” “Eyes in the back of your freaking head!” He cursed my name on his way out, taking the papers with him and Kirk giggled. “So, is this a news-from-the-lawyers visit again?” I glanced at Kirk, who had resumed strumming. “Actually, no. I came to see if you wanted to grab a late lunch with me. I feel it’s important that you have exposure to Metallica other than Lars. Not all of us are Charlie-kissing, room-decorating, clothes-buying drummers.” He looked at me and winked. “Thank God. The world doesn’t need any more drummers,” I laughed. “Let’s jet.” I threw the last of my belongings into another box and locked the door behind us. We dined at a sweet little Thai restaurant where Kirk knew the owner. It was past the regular lunch hour, and we had the place to ourselves except for a group of Japanese businessmen. Kirk ordered veggie pad thai for himself and a pumpkin curry for me, suggesting that we could share both. “So, let me get this straight. For three months, Lars has been living pretty much in his bedroom and the kitchen, ignoring most other rooms in the house, except for the living room, which can hardly be described as ‘furnished’ with the tv and one couch. And then you show up, and all of a sudden the bedroom next to his looks like it fell out of House and Garden?” He stabbed at a bean sprout with his chopsticks. “That’s so typical. When he started dating Skylar he had the whole backyard of his house transformed into a tropical paradise, complete with waterfalls, just cause she said she liked them.” He saw the look of surprise on my face and started backpedaling. “Not that you’re like Skylar, or that he has, um, designs on you like he did with her. Shit. I just meant…” “Don’t worry about it. It’s nice to know that he’s always been this generous. He seems like the kind of person who would do anything to make a friend happy. Guess I’m pretty lucky that he considers me a friend.” “He’s lucky too. He would never say anything, as much as it seems he loves to complain, but he’s not having an easy time of it lately. And while we’re all trying to be there for him, I think he feels he’s worn us out as shoulders to cry on.” ”But he’s not crying on my shoulder, Kirk. I’m the only one who’s been shedding tears lately. Granted, I’ve been doing it enough for the both of us, but still…” “Maybe so, but the few times I’ve spoken with him the past couple of days, he seems happier. I know it’s hard to believe right now, but I think he sees a lot of Cliff in you,” he squeezed my hand as he said it, “and he also just finds you fun to hang out with. Oh, and I’m supposed to ask you about the gig at Harley’s? What’s that about?” I laughed and launched into the story, adding in other parts I’d been reminded of by colleagues that morning. “You straight-armed him? That’s a football move, isn’t it? Aww, James would be so proud!” “It is, indeed. Also a rugby move, which is where I learned it. I think being drunk gives it extra power, cause that guy was huge! My shoulder isn’t too happy about it today though.” I laughed and leaned back in my chair, feeling full and happy. We ordered coffee for me and a tea for Kirk and continued chatting, Kirk filling me in a little on how things were going at the studio. Everybody was very excited that Rob would be contributing to the album for the first time, and things were going smoothly so far. “I think it’s gonna be the best one yet,” Kirk confided. An hour later, I was back at the office, with Jackson and Matt helping me cart boxes to my truck. “Dude, are we gonna have to carry all this stuff back in there in three months?” Matt leaned against the Chevy, breathing heavily. I squeezed his shoulder and laughed when he winced. “Sorry, buddy. I’ll get somebody else to help me bring it back. I’ll see you guys Saturday.” Ahhh, it was nice to be home. I hadn’t had dinner at my house on a weeknight in about a month. There were always client meetings or meals out with the partners or just late nights at the office. Or drinks that took the place of dinner. I’d stopped at the grocery store on my way home and was still putting away the food when my cell rang. I looked at the number and laughed. “Hello, yet again, Mr. Ulrich. To what do I owe the pleasure of your call?” “Well, hello, Miss Tyler. I hadn’t realized we were going to be so formal! Kirk mentioned you were having a little party this weekend, and I’m wondering if it would be okay to bring the boys. I’ve got them from Friday to Tuesday, but I don’t wanna miss your barbecue. I can always take them home when the strippers arrive, or if you break out a keg.” I giggled. “That would be awesome. The boys, I mean. Not strippers. I’d love to meet them, and some of my friends are bringing their kids too, so there’ll be other little people around. Other than you, obviously.” “What? Hey, motherfucker, I’ll have you know that I’m taller than you. ‘Little people’. Jesus.” He sounded mad but I knew he was grinning on the other end of the phone. “So I should tell James to bring Castor along too? I think Fran has the girls at her parents’ place this weekend.” “Yeah, sounds good. Um, I actually was gonna ask you about that. I’m not planning on drinking much on Saturday, but a few of my buddies will definitely be, um, hammered. How’s James doing with that, these days? I’d hate for him to feel uncomfortable.” “Don’t worry about a thing, little one. He can handle it. Long as nobody’s pushing the booze on him, cause that only pisses him off. Gio usually takes care of those guys though.” “Cool. I doubt he’ll need to, but he’s welcome to bring Gio if he wants. Hell, bring anybody you like, the more the merrier.” “Excellent. I gotta run, I’ll see you tomorrow. Dinner! Don’t forget!” “Bye, sugar.” Ah yes. Dinner. What the hell was I gonna make? I scanned the contents of my now full fridge and decided to flip through some recipe books after I’d gone for a run. Slipping out the back door I was greeted by the dogs, who, after a full day of hanging out in the backyard, were ready for some serious exercise. I let them into the house and they waited patiently at the bottom of the stairs while I got changed, and then we took the truck out to the hills where I could get a decent workout and they could run without having to wear leashes. We ran for about an hour, and the weather was cooling off as we headed back to the house. I was surprised to see a black truck with purple flames along the sides of it in my driveway when I returned. I put the dogs on their leads to keep them from jumping on James when we reached him. He was sitting on my porch swing, looking very cool in his shades, and rather intimidating. The dogs apparently didn’t think so, though, as they both flopped down in front of him and rolled over to have their bellies scratched. “James…you’re here. At my house. Hi.” |
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| Metalicious | March 6, 2008, 7:57 am Post #17 |
Blackened
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“Hi. Hey fellas,” he leaned down and held his hands out for the dogs to sniff. They did so for roughly two seconds and flopped down again. “Looks like you wore ‘em out.” He looked back up at me and my heart did a little flip-flop. I couldn’t tell if it was nerves or the fact that he looked so damned attractive in his faded jeans and black sweater. “Yeah, they had a lot of pent up energy they needed to expend. So did I.” I dug in my pocket for my keys and ushered the dogs, and James, inside. “Um, if you don’t mind, I’m just gonna shower really quickly and then we can discuss…whatever you’re here to discuss. I’ll be five minutes.” He nodded and took his boots off and carried them, wandering slowly into the lounge. “Take your time,” he smiled and my heart somersaulted again. “That way I can snoop around your house while you’re not looking.” I gave a little laugh, but I wasn’t sure he was joking. I came back downstairs and the house was eerily quiet. I peered out the window and saw his truck was still there. So where was he? Walking into the kitchen I saw him on the back deck, wrestling with the dogs. I grabbed a couple of glasses and a pitcher of lemonade from the fridge and opened the sliding door. He glanced over his shoulder as I nudged the door shut with my toe. “You’re gonna be cold in about three minutes,” he warned, taking in my appearance. I still felt hot from the run so I’d only worn board shorts and a white tank top. I put the lemonade down on the railing and opened up one of the bench seats on the deck, pulling out an old West Coast Choppers hoodie that I kept there especially for cool evenings like this. “Hey, I have that one. They’re comfy, eh?” He smiled approvingly at me. “They’re my favorite. Thirsty?” I filled one of the glasses and handed it to him, and then watched as he drained it in one gulp. “Wow. Guess so.” I refilled the glass and then poured another for myself. I laughed as the dogs sat eagerly at his feet, staring up at him with their sweet brown eyes. “Master of puppies, aren’t ya?” He laughed. “How old are these guys?” “Well, Duke’s almost two years old, and usually acts like it, and Fire’s a bit of a mystery. The shelter I adopted him from wasn’t sure of his age when they got him.” James made a choking sound. “You named your dog Fire?” He started laughing. I grinned. “Hey, I like inciting panic. Although I try not to call him much when we’re in a public place.” “Smart girl. This is a really nice place.” I followed his gaze over the yard. It was indeed, very nice. I’d worked hard to make it that way. “Thank you. Took me a couple of months to decide on the house, and then this whole area needed a lot of work. It was mostly long grass and a few trees when I moved in.” “Seriously? Did you design the layout?” He looked slightly surprised that I might be capable of that. “Sort of. I knew how I wanted it to look, and the landscape architects I hired were pretty good at deciphering my little sketches.” He got up put his boots back on and stepped down to the lawn. “You’ve got a pool, a little basketball court, a gorgeous deck, something that looks like a bonfire pit, and a whole lotta garden. I’d say they were more than good.” Tilting his head towards the small paved area, he asked, “Got a ball handy?” I hopped off the deck and picked up the ball from where it had rolled behind a bush a few days ago. “Horse?” “You’re on.” We did a best of five, with James winning. I’d shed my sweatshirt after we finished and he did the same with his sweater, revealing an old Harley Davidson t-shirt. And all those tattoos. “Any new ones?” I pointed at his arms. “Nah, sorta runnin outta space. What about you? I saw that little black one on the inside of your wrist. Got any others?” I turned and moved my hair aside so he could see the small celtic design between my shoulder blades, then turned again and lowered my shorts slightly to show him the lily I had just above my hipbone, turned again and hitched my top up so he could see the tribal flames one running across my lower back, and spun around once more and stuck out my ankle. “De profundis,” he read aloud from the delicate writing on the inside of my foot. “I recognize that. It’s Latin, from a prayer. How come…” He glanced up and stopped talking. “Sorry. Not any of my business, is it.” “No worries. Let’s go inside.” I grabbed the pitcher and glasses and he slid the door open for me. We sat at the kitchen table and I looked at him, hoping he’d tell me why he was here. He pulled an envelope out of his back pocket. “We got these late this afternoon. I asked to be the one to tell you. Results came back.” Oh holy fuck. Already? Those must have been some speedy lab guys- wait, he made me play five games of Horse before telling me this? As if reading my mind, he ducked his head and said, “Shoulda told you first, I know. But Kirk and Lars got to spend time with you, and I wasn’t sure if you’d kick me out after we opened this,” he waved the envelope at me and I took it from him. “First of all, James, I would never kick you out. Anybody who’s sweet to my dogs and then kicks my ass at basketball without rubbing it in my face is welcome here anytime. Second of all, um, would you mind opening this? I’m not sure my eyes can focus right now.” He took the envelope back and tore it open. Unfolding the letter, he scanned the contents. His face didn’t change at all as he read it. He finally put it down on the table and I kept my eyes trained on him, waiting to see what he’d say. He rubbed his hands over his face and then looked at me. “Well, now that whole musical fiasco at Harley’s I heard about makes sense.” He lowered his eyes and then raised them again to meet mine. “Cliff was always horrible on drums too.” “You mean…it came back a match? It’s true?” I was whispering. “Yep.” He whispered back. “Really?” Still whispering. He laughed. “Yes, really.” He got up and bent over me, gently kissing my cheek. “Welcome to the Met family, kiddo.” And I promptly burst into tears. He laughed again and pulled me into his arms, resting his head on my chin. I struggled slightly and he glanced down, giving me a curious look. “I’ll get,” sniffle, “snot and stuff all over,” sniffle, “your shirt.” “It’s an old one, it can take it,” he murmured softly. I felt one of his arms move and he pulled out his cell phone. “Wanna call Lars and tell him?” “Do you think you could do it?” I looked up at him. “He’ll just tease me for crying again.” He smiled and dialed the number with one hand as the other kept rubbing my back. “Hey, buddy. You were right, test was a match. What? No, she’s not crying,” he lied. “She’s totally calm…yes she is. No I’m not lying. No- hey! My pants are NOT on fire.” He sighed heavily and passed me the phone. “Yeah, he knows.” “Hey Danish,” I said, trying to breathe normally and not sniff. “Hey! Is he wiping your face with a damp cloth? I don’t know if he knows that trick. See babes? Told you it would all work out. This is awesome! I’m bringing champagne to dinner tomorrow, we can celebrate. Put James back on.” I handed the phone back over and wriggled out of his arms to search for some tissues. “Yeah, how about you be in charge of that, you still talk to them a couple times a year, don’t you? I don’t even have their phone number,” I heard James saying quietly. I gave up on the kleenex hunt and went into the bathroom to wash my face. Bending over the sink I glimpsed James in the mirror and shrieked. “God, James! Don’t do that! Wear a bell or something! Whew,” I fanned myself dramatically and sat down on the toilet seat. He grinned and took the face cloth from me, wetting it with cold water. “Lars says I’m to do this,” he ran it gently over my face, “until you feel better.” I smiled and another tear escaped and rolled down my face. James looked shocked. “No, no, no, no, no! He said it would help! You’re not supposed to start crying again!” “Sorry,” I stood up and took the cloth from him, rubbing my face vigorously. “I don’t think that’s how you’re supposed to do it,” he said slowly and I laughed, walking out of the bathroom ahead of him. “You’re right, my technique is awful. I just feel a little shell-shocked right now. I mean, I know it doesn’t really change anything, but it’s a lot to take in, all the same. I’m just overreacting, I know.” I felt tears threatening yet again, and I got pulled backwards until I was against him with his arms around me. “Breathe, Charlie.” I gulped, trying not to panic. “What?” “Take a couple of breaths. Not too deep, it’ll just set you off again. Just breathe for me. Try to relax.” He loosened his hold around me a little and I did as he said, feeling instantly calmer for it. “There, see? Better?” “Yeah. Thanks.” “Been a busy week, hmm? Lots of stuff happening. Lars tells me you’re taking the next few months off from the lawyer thing to chill out a bit. You must have had to work your ass off recently to make sure you were organized for that.” I nodded, “Yeah, it’s been a bit hectic.” “And then you get this letter out of the blue from your birth mom, only to find out she’s actually passed away,” he continued, quietly. “Yeah, that was kind of surprising,” I said slowly, wondering where he was going with this. “And then you find out that your father was supposedly this famous guy, and you have to go to a meeting with a bunch of mean lawyers and these crazy rock stars, so that’s gotta be kind of stressful.” “You’re not crazy, you’ve all been lovely to me,” I protested and squirmed against him, only to be held tighter. “And then the drummer of the band, the guy who’s supposed to be all supportive and kind and who promised to take care of you, tries to molest you in a parking lot,” he chuckled and I couldn’t help but giggle too. “And then,” he continued, “you find out that you are indeed, Cliff Burton’s daughter, which is cool, cause you now know who you parents were, but it sucks too, cause you’ll never get to meet them.” He sighed and I could feel his breath on my ear. “I wouldn’t say you’re overreacting, sweetie, I’d say you’re right on target as far as crying jags go.” He turned me around to face him and smiled. “Now, am I gonna have to take you out for some food or can we fix something here? All this drama made me hungry.” I put James in charge of making the hamburgers while I sliced potatoes to make french fries, and threw together a salad. He was humming happily over the barbecue when I came out with coffee. “Thought you might like some of this,” I handed the mug to him. “Thanks. I’m standing over an open flame, it’s really cold,” he deadpanned and I laughed. Moving past him I threw some kindling on the fire pit and struck a match. “No fair,” he called. “Your open flame is bigger than mine!” I walked back to stand beside him. “The Yankees are playing tonight, figured I’d sit out by the fire and listen to the later innings on the radio after dinner. Wanna stay?” “Okay,” he put an arm around me and flipped the burgers. “But only if I get to play with the fire.” I leaned against him and rubbed my cheek against his soft sweater. “You’re overcooking the burgers, Hetfield.” “The meat has barely stopped bleeding, Tyler,” he growled. “You wanna get food poisoning? Now be a good little girl and go get me some of that lemonade I had earlier. That stuff was awesome.” He laughed as my eyes widened. “Good little woman? Is that better?” I grabbed the flipper out of his hand and whacked his butt with it before jogging back into the house. I came back out with a glass and he accepted it, still grinning. “Arsenic in this?” “Bleach,” I replied. “Yummy,” he gasped after finishing it. “Got a plate for the burgers?” I handed it to him and we took the food to the kitchen and sat down to eat. “So, seriously, Charlie,” James started after we’d done the dishes and moved the deck chairs by the fire. “You must be a damn fine lawyer to be able to have a house in this neighborhood. I have a couple of buddies who live about ten minutes away, and I know what they paid for their house. You pretty good at your job then?” “Yeah, I guess so, but I actually bought the house with inheritance money, after my folks died.” He stared at me. “What?” “My parents…you didn’t know?” “No,” he said softly. “Damn, Charlie, I’m sorry. When did they, um, pass away?” “Three and a half years ago. Car accident. They were on their way home from a party just before Christmas, and an eighteen wheeler slammed into them. The driver was about a zillion points over the legal limit.” I exhaled slowly. “That’s weird, that your lawyers didn’t tell you. It’s in all the paperwork.” James was still staring at me. “They don’t let us see the paperwork. Does Lars know? He didn’t mention anything…” “Guess not. I didn’t bring it up with him, I just figured he knew and wasn’t saying anything to avoid another round of sobbing.” I smiled at James. “It’s okay, Het, I dealt with it at the time. I still miss them every day, but I’ve moved on from the point where I couldn’t even get out of bed. Don’t look so sad.” I patted his hand and he placed his other one over top of mine. “I’m sorry. It’s so hard, losing your folks. And you were, what, 22 at the time? God, that’s young. You got any brothers or sisters?” “No, but I have a lot of very kind aunts and uncles, and cousins and friends. I had a lot of support. I was living in England at the time, finishing law school and working for a firm in London. I moved back after the accident so I could help sort out the estate and spend more time with my relatives for a while.” “And after that?” “After that I did some pro bono stuff for a firm where my dad’s best friend works. Took some time off from that to travel a little bit, and wound up here about fourteen months ago. Turns out my dad’s friend is also friends with the managing partner of the firm where I work now. He put in a good word for me, and that was that.” “You seem pretty well adjusted about this,” he said quietly. “Therapy?” “Hell yeah. Hours and hours, for months on end.” “I know the feeling,” he gave me a shy smile. “You seem pretty well adjusted, yourself, Papa Het.” “Yeah, well, one day at a time, and all that. I had a lot of great support too.” We fell silent for a few minutes. I got up to stoke the fire, immediately tripping over Duke, and I felt strong arms grabbing my waist. “Easy, sugar.” James eased me down to his lap. “Wouldn’t want you to fall into the fire.” “Fire bad,” I said solemnly and he chuckled. I pushed his sleeve up and traced the scars from the Montreal fire with my fingertips. The tattoos did a decent job of covering them. “ I was there when this happened,” I told him. “My uncle drove my cousin and I up to the concert. We left right after you were taken to the hospital. Good thing too, after the shit that Axl pulled later.” I looked at him, saw his eyes were closed. “I’m glad you’re okay now.” He shifted his legs and I made a move to get up, but he drew me against him again. “Stay put, I’m just getting comfy.” He reached down and picked up the portable radio I’d brought out, and tuned it to the local sports station. The game had reached the bottom of the seventh inning and the Yankees were ahead by two. “The tattoo…on your ankle…” I looked up. His eyes were still shut. “I got it a couple months after they died. I guess I needed a reminder that I wasn’t alone.” “What’s it mean, again?” “Out of the depths. From the beginning of the prayer with the same title.” “Out of the depths I have cried to Thee, oh Lord,” he murmured. “Yeah, I know that one. You’re religious then?” “I dunno if I’d call it that. I grew up going to church on Sundays, but it was always more of a social thing for me. It didn’t have too much to do with God until I had a reason to pray.” I lay my head against his shoulder and his arm came up to stroke my hair. Man, these Met boys were good at the comforting thing. “Were you angry at God when it happened?” I could tell he already knew the answer. “Furious. It all seemed so reckless and unfair. The day after it happened, I borrowed the keys to the church from our minister and stormed in like God was waiting and I was gonna kick his ass.” I sighed. “Lots of screaming, lots of crying, lots of hurling abuse at the ceiling, hoping I’d get struck down by lightening for swearing in a church, and then I could die and stop feeling like someone was tearing my heart out through my throat.” James tightened his hold on me. “After a couple of hours I sort of exhausted myself and curled up in a ball in the front pew. That’s when the minister came in and sat beside me, and went through the skateboard analogy.” He opened his eyes and smiled. “The skateboard analogy? This I gotta hear.” I laughed softly. “She said that God is like a parent. And the free will that he gave to us is like a parent giving a child a skateboard. You wouldn’t forbid them from using it, and you wouldn’t run along beside them, holding their hand every time they wanted to ride it. You’d give them a helmet and kneepads – tools to help guide us, she likened them to the ten commandments – and hope for the best. And if they crashed and hurt themselves, you’d be there to comfort them and help stop the bleeding.” “Makes sense. I like it.” “Yeah, took me a while to accept it. I’m still not sure if I’m on board with the traditional beliefs and all that old testament ‘eye for an eye’ stuff, but I believe in something.” I stopped speaking in time to hear the announcers go wild over a homer by Jeter. “I definitely believe in the Yankees.” “Hmmm…bandwagon much?” he joked. “Those guys buy the best players so they can win. It’s ridiculous.” I sat up. “Oh my. Speaking of liking popular teams who can afford to buy talent, how did the Raiders do this year, James?” His eyes narrowed and I bit my lip to keep from laughing. “I will excuse that comment because you have had a stressful week,” he snarled at me. “Okay,” I squeaked. We listened to the rest of the game in silence, except for quiet cheers from me when my boys scored. I looked at his watch when the game ended, and saw that it was almost eleven. “Isn’t Fran gonna be wondering where you are?” I looked up at him. He stared back at me and said, “No,” in such a sad voice that I wondered if my crying was contagious and he might start. “Everything okay there? Wanna talk about it?” “No, and kinda. But can we go inside? My back’s a little sore.” I nodded and followed him into the house. I motioned for him to take a seat in the lounge. It was sort of part of the kitchen, just down a few steps, and I could still hear and see him from where I was tidying up. I watched him lie down on the floor and stretch his arms out above him, I assumed in an attempt to work the kinks out of his back. Deciding I could finish cleaning later, I went in and sat beside him. “Get on the couch, on your stomach,” I instructed. He did so, sending me a sideways glance that said he wasn’t sure that was a good idea. “Your lower back?” “Yup. Feels like it’s burning.” He lay with his forehead on his hands. I pulled up his sweater and t-shirt slightly and started making small circles on his back with my fingers. “Do you…know what you’re doing? I mean, it feels good…” “Don’t worry. I was one of the physio crew for the football team at my university. It was my minor, sort of.” “And your, ohhhhhhh, that’s nice, your major was what, exactly?” “Double major in political science and military history.” I laughed as he turned his head and raised an eyebrow. “I like reading! And I like arguing. It was a good base for law school.” I finished working on his back and pulled him up so he was standing. Placing him against the wall, I put him through a couple of pilates exercises, explaining that he could stop grumbling, they weren’t girlie ballerina exercises, lots of tough guys did them too. “Feel a little better?” “Yeah, thanks for that. I’ll have to remember the wall thing.” “Did you still wanna talk?” I didn’t want to push, but he still looked sad. “Actually, I do. But I need to use your bathroom first. I’ll be right back.” I got up and turned off a few of the lights, until the room was lit mostly from the hallway and the light over the oven. He came back and laughed. “We having a séance as well?” I blushed. “I always find it easier to talk about tricky stuff when it’s dark. That sounds kinda weird, I’m sure…” “No, it doesn’t. You spilled your guts pretty nicely outside there, and I remember more than a few heavy conversations with Lars that we only had cause we couldn’t afford to pay the electricity bill and were sitting in darkness. It’s fine, Charlie.” He sat beside me on the couch and rubbed as his face with his hands, a gesture he seemed to do when he was stressed. “Hey, maybe you could start by showing me some pics of your kids. Lars showed me a couple of Myles and Layne the other night, and Castor’s in one of them. He looks so grown up!” Ahh, there was the smile. He pulled out his wallet and I leaned over to see the photos. Cali in an adorable ballet costume, Cali and Cella dressed up like princesses, and Castor and James flexing and baring their teeth in front of James’ truck. I leaned back against the couch. “They’re gorgeous, James. Castor’s the spitting image of you.” “They’re awesome,” he said quietly. “I’m really lucky.” His hand went to his eyes and I saw him wipe at them quickly. “Het, it’s okay. You’re allowed to be upset.” He shook his head and leaned back against the cushions. “I’m just so fucking frustrated and angry. Sorry ‘bout this.” “Don’t be.” I brushed his hair back and stroked his cheek. “It’s just…fuck, Charlie, she told me she wants a divorce. She’s taking the girls with her to her parents’ house for the next two weeks while the papers are sorted out. She’s been seeing somebody else, and I was willing to go to therapy to discuss it, and maybe work on things, get past this, but she doesn’t wanna talk about it, she’s just shutting me out.” A few tears escaped from his eyes. “I can’t begin to fathom how she’s justifying this. After all the shit we’ve been through, all the work we put into this, and she’s just gonna throw it away.” “God, I’m sorry, James. When are they going to her parents’ place?” He stared at his hands. “They left this morning. Castor’s staying at a friend’s house tonight, I just couldn’t…I was afraid I might do this in front of him.” He looked up at me and every word of Behind Blue Eyes went flashing through my head. “I haven’t told anyone other than Lars yet. I don’t know why I’m telling you,” he whispered. “Hey, blame it on the dark, right?” I smiled and pulled him close to me. We stayed like that for a few minutes, until I realized we were undoing all the good we’d done to his back earlier. “James…you gotta sit up or lie all the way down, or else we’re gonna have to do more girlie ballerina stuff.” He sat up and wiped at his eyes. “I should go,” he said quietly. “Or you could stay,” I countered. “There are two spare rooms, both of which have fresh linen on the beds. I’m not sure you should drive if you’re this upset.” He looked so grateful at my suggestion I feared he might up with the tears again. I took his hand and led him upstairs to the room across from mine. Leaving him for a moment I went into the bathroom and came back with a wet facecloth. That got a small chuckle from him. He sat still while I wiped his cheeks, and kissed him on the forehead. I grabbed a couple of towels and a new toothbrush from the hall closet, came back into the room and found him lying in just his jeans, lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Pushing away all thoughts of how hot he looked lying there in just denim and all that bare skin, I sat down beside him. “Feeling okay?” “Just wishing things were less complicated. And wishing I weren’t a damn alcoholic. I really want a drink right now.” His voice was shaky and I wanted to touch him, to comfort him, but wasn’t entirely sure how I could do that without it looking like I was copping a feel. He looked over at me. “Seems we’re playing musical houses. You staying at Lars’ place, me crashing here…” I smiled. “And tomorrow maybe Kirk will stay with Rob, and then on Friday we can all have a sleepover at Bob Rock’s house!” He smiled back at me. “You gonna sleep in your jeans? I probably have a pair of board shorts that would fit you.” “Seriously?” he eyed me curiously. “Hey, I’m a girl. Our weight tends to fluctuate! Besides, I like ‘em baggy, and you’re not exactly fat, Het.” I popped into my room and dug through the chest of clothes I kept in my closet. Pulling out a pair of shorts I thought might fit him, I walked back in and saw he’d moved from the bed to the window, and turned the lights off. I came up behind him and put my hand on his back. “It’ll all work out, James. I promise.” He snorted. “You promise? How the hell can you promise anything. You don’t know.” I moved back and dropped the shorts on the bed. This didn’t seem like it was headed anywhere pleasant. “If you need anything else, I’m across the hall. Night.” I went into my room and shut the door. Poor man’s emotions were all over the place and all I’d done all evening was ramble on about me. Oops. I undressed and was pulling the covers over me when I heard a soft knock at my door. “Come on in, Papa Het.” The door opened and I could see him outlined in the darkness. “I’m sorry,” he said, in a voice so low I almost didn’t catch it. “You’re being so sweet and I’m being a jerk.” I sat up, keeping the covers pulled up, and made a space for him to sit on the bed. He’d put on the shorts and I noticed they were hanging off him a little. The waist on them was a 32. “More burgers are needed,” I thought aloud. He looked startled. “What?” “Nothing, sorry. Look, you’re not being a jerk. Sounds like you’re having a hard week too. I understand. Or at least, I understand the stressful week thing. I’m not really experienced with the marriage thing, but you’re a strong person, James. You’ve already survived so much. You’ll get through this, too. You might come out the other side with some more battle scars, but you might also get through it unscathed. I’m here anytime you wanna talk, or just hang out. And I know Lars and Kirk and Rob would walk through fire for you. That’s how I can promise that everything will work out. You just gotta give it time.” He was quiet for a moment before speaking. “You must be an awesome lawyer. I find myself believing everything you’re saying. I’m sorry I was rude. And cried. And beat you at basketball,” he added, and I laughed. “Thank you. Never do that again! Throw the game next time, pal, always let the lady win.” The covers slipped slightly and I grabbed at them. A slow smile came over James’ face. “You naked under there?” he grinned. “Little bit.” I replied. “Little bit? How can you be a little bit naked? You either are or you aren’t.” “Shut up, Hetfield.” ”Hmmm, make me, Tyler.” I wasn’t sure if I preferred the crying or the feral smile he was giving me. As if sensing my unease, he backed off. “I’m kidding sweets.” He leaned forward and dropped a kiss on my bare shoulder. “Sweet dreams,” and he closed the door behind him. |
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| Metalicious | March 6, 2008, 8:00 am Post #18 |
Blackened
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My dreams were anything but sweet. I made it until 4:47 according to the clock next to my bed, before I woke up screaming again. James was already in my room when I opened my eyes, sitting at the end of my bed. “It’s me, Charlie. You’re okay. I’m just gonna sit here and wait til you relax a little.” I stared at him in disbelief. How was he being so calm? “Lars mentioned this happened to you last night.” Lifting the blankets slightly he reached for my left foot and began kneading it. I felt some of the tension slide out of me. “Want me to leave you alone?” he asked without looking up. “No. Please…don’t stop what you’re doing.” I slumped back against the pillows and tried to think of anything but what had made me scream. “Where’d you pick that up?” “Used to do it for Lars a lot. Drummers get foot cramps. Our drummer complains louder than you scream, so I started giving him foot massages to shut him up.” He glanced up. “Not that I’m trying to shut you up, just trying to get you to relax. You wanna talk about it?” “Not really. Although I will if it’ll keep you in here doing that.” He shifted on the bed and switched to my right foot. “Same dream every time?” “Yup.” “Nightmare about something that actually happened?” “Yup.” ”Anything to do with your folks?” “Nope.” He stopped rubbing and looked up. “Really? Huh. I thought that might be it.” I sighed with pleasure as the rubbing commenced again. “You talk to anybody at all about it?” He now had a hand on each foot and I was beginning to forget what we were discussing. “What? Oh, yeah. Occasionally. A couple people.” “You might wanna consider talking to them more,” he said quietly. “I’ll think about that,” I sighed and closed my eyes, thinking of nothing but how nice his calloused fingers felt running over the balls of my feet. I woke up several hours later feeling happy and totally relaxed. Knowing I had the next three months off work helped. A note on my kitchen table told me James had taken off at eight for the studio, borrowed my spare keys to lock the door again when he left, and that he’d see me Saturday. I pitched some fruit and yogurt in the blender and cranked the kitchen stereo to an oldies station. Dancing around the stove belting out ‘Sugar Sugar’ at the top of my lungs, I almost missed the phone ringing. Turning down the music, I picked up and heard Trish laughing. “Were you having a dance party?” “Kinda,” I grinned. “Wanna come over and join me?” “I’d love to! I have a few more things to do here, but I could scoot out for a couple hours for a late lunch.” Trish’s job as a features editor left her with a fairly flexible schedule. “I’ll bring my suit. We can chill by the pool! I’ll see you around two.” And she was off. I opened the back door and noted that it was definitely chilling by the pool weather. No clouds in the sky and the dogs had already retreated to the shade beneath the trees. I ran upstairs, threw on a bikini and shorts and took my smoothie out to the deck, flipping through the Vogue I’d taken from my room at Lars’. Halfway through an article on botox, I looked up to see my elderly neighbor, Mrs. Deanez, coming through the gate at the far end of the garden, where a little path adjoined our properties. Stopping by the dogs, she reached down to pet them and they licked her hand. As she approached the deck I noticed she was carrying a basket. “Good morning, sunshine,” she said as she reached me. “Good morning to you! Did you come over for a rematch?” She chuckled. Two weeks ago she had come for dinner and insisted on playing basketball after we’d finished dessert. She kicked my ass. Apparently she had been a point guard at Radcliff back in the 40s. “Not today, dear. Mr. Deanez and I are off to Vegas for a long weekend.” She laughed again as my mouth fell open. “I’d ask you to come along but I know you’re having your party on Saturday. So I brought you these. One is ready to eat and the other will need to be frozen until you want to cook it. About an hour at medium heat.” I peered into her basket and saw two peach cobblers. “You are the best neighbor, EVER.” I got up and hugged her. She hugged me fiercely in return. “You look a little less tired than you were last time I saw you.” She held my shoulders and looked me in the eye. “I saw a very handsome man over here yesterday. But if he was anything more than a friend, I have to tell you I’m disappointed that you look so well-rested!” She winked. “Now, you’d better get some vanilla ice cream to go with these if you haven’t got any already. Keep the basket, I’ll pick it up next week. Unless we hit the jackpot, and then I’ll just send you a postcard from Tahiti.” Hugging me again, she turned and walked back through the garden, patting the dogs as she went. Well. Dessert for Lars was taken care of. Now if only the neighbor on the other side of me would come over with a lasagna or something, I’d be all set without having to lift a finger. Trish arrived just after two, and found me still on the deck, half asleep with the Vogue in my lap. “Late night, party girl?” She grinned and kicked off her flipflops. “Not really. Had dinner with James, listened to a bit of the game, found out I’m Cliff’s daughter, went to bed.” Her grin got even bigger. “I knew it! Well, no, that’s not true, but Lars was pretty damn sure and I figured he was probably right. So…dinner with James. How was that?” “Good. We had burgers. I let him cook.” “What’d ya have for dessert?” She gave me a sly look “Huh? Hey, no. Don’t give me that look, I would never. He’s married.” “He’s hot.” “Yes. Hot and married.” “And hot, a couple more times.” “Damn hot.” We giggled. “We’re twelve, you know that?” “Hell yeah. Whew. I’m all hot just thinkin’ about him. Last one in the pool has to make lunch,” she said in a rush as she pulled off her top and skirt and jumped into the pool. I barely had time to get off my chair. “Big, fat, cheater!” I yelled at her. She gracefully raised her hand and extended her middle finger before sinking below the water again. I waded in at the shallow end and met her in the middle of the pool. “Nice bikini. La Perla?” She flicked water at me. “Hey, now. Be nice. I would never use Lars’ credit card without calling and asking him.” “You called and asked him, didn’t you.” “Yeah,” she giggled. “He said it was fine. I mean, come on. He hauls me out of work, forces me to go shopping in a big, expensive store, where I was totally overwhelmed by the sheer choice of merchandise…I had a very exhausting time. It was only fair that I get a little something for me.” She did a few lazy laps around me and surfaced beside me. “So did he get you to model the stuff I got for you?” There was that damn look again. “Oh my God. You’re evil. And dirty. The only thing I modeled was the flannel pair of sheep pajamas.” She rolled her eyes. “Oh my lord. I spent three hours in La Perla and you decided to wear some fuzzy sheep pjs? Woman, I think we need to send you to remedial boy lessons.” I got out of the pool and squeezed the water out of my hair. “Listen, chicky, I just spent the last three nights in the company of two very attractive men. I think I’m doing fine,” I winked at her and went inside to start lunch. She raced in after me. “Three nights? Last night? Did Lars …ohhhh…James, huh? Nice,” she swatted me with her flipflop. “Dude, really. You gotta stop that. He’s married. And I’m not looking for anything like that right now.” She pulled some iced tea out of the fridge and poured us each a glass. Turning the radio on again, she grabbed my hand and we whirled around to the Beach Boys. Taking a break from the dancing, we made a couple of veggie wraps and took them outside. “You putting in a few hours at the garage tomorrow?” She shielded her eyes with her hand and looked over at me from her deck chair. “I talked to Ben on the weekend and he’s pretty excited that you’re gonna be able to give them a lot of hours this summer. They’ve been busy lately, lots of requests for custom designs and stuff. Can’t believe you’d rather spend your time in a dark garage that smells like paint and oil instead of sunbathing, but each to her own, I suppose.” “Actually, a lot of the work can be done out back now, they extended the workshop, so we can wheel the bikes out and I can putter around under the sun all day long. So there.” I threw a sun dried tomato at her, which she promptly picked off and tossed to Duke. “Whatever. Long as you also put in some time at Jake’s so I can get free martinis, I’m cool.” I gave her a mock hurt look. “Is that all I am to you? Free drinks? I am shocked, Patricia. Just shocked.” She grinned. “That’s not all you are to me, and you know it.” She took a sip of her iced tea. “You’re also good for your pool, and your food, and now you know all these rock star guys…” she trailed off as she saw me tilt my glass in her direction. “Don’t you dare, Tyler. I will kick your sorry ARGHHH!!!” she yelped as I poured the contents of the glass in her lap. “Alright…chick fight!” We both spun around to see Lars standing in the doorway, a huge smile on his face. “Hey, you’re nice and early,” I went to hug him as Trish wiped her legs off with her towel. “Really? Seems like I’m right on time. Two beautiful girls, wearing very little, throwing drinks and squealing…I feel like I’m on the set of fuckin’ ‘Dallas’. Hey you,” he leaned over to kiss Trish on the cheek. “This isn’t over, Charlotte!” She only said my full name when she was really pissed, but I could see her trying not to smile. “She might have ruined my pretty new bikini. It’s the one you got me,” she pouted at Lars, who looked confused. “The one I…oh! Shopping. Very nice. Money well spent. Did I buy this one, too?” he pulled slightly at my top and whirled around as it came untied. “Sorry! Fock! Magic bikini or what? I barely touched it!” I giggled and held my hair up as Trish retied the strings for me. Lars turned back around slowly and I saw he was blushing. “Sorry little one. Really didn’t mean to do that.” “I’m sure you didn’t, you big pervert.” I laughed as he got even more red. “Aw sweetie, I’m kidding.” I put my shorts on and sat back down. Trish had put on her skirt and top as well. “I’m gonna take off, y’all. Thanks again for my bikini…and the other stuff I got.” She grinned and bumped Lars’ hip with hers. “Other stuff? Motherfuck, how much did you buy? I’m gonna get this enormous bill from freaking La Perla, aren’t I. God. Women!” But he smiled back and waved as she took off through the house. Turning to me he took my hand in his and sat across from me. “First of all, here’s your key. James says thanks, he made seventeen copies and gave them to all of his scariest friends.” I giggled. “Secondly, I’m sorry I’m early, …but, um,” he looked very serious and I wondered if James had told him about my parents. I’d requested that he leave that to me, but I knew that the ‘Papa Het’ side of him would probably try to do it for me. “It’s just,” Lars continued, “you’re the only person I know who’s home today and who has a pool.” He stood up, pulled off his t-shirt and took a running jump into the deep end. “Coming in?” he yelled when he’d come up for air. He didn’t wait for a reply, but instead hauled himself out of the pool and stalked towards me, dripping wet. Oh shit. “C’mere, little one…don’t make me chase you…” “Lars, no. No chasing. I have a very strict rule about running by the pool.” “Oh yeah? What about walking fast?” “Nuh uh. No deal. Now just wait a minute. I’m all dry and warm, I’d rather sit in the – hey! Put me down! Right now!” I squirmed and pounded my fists on his back. “I will in a second. In the pool,” he chuckled and continued to carry me. Two steps later we were both in the water. I came up gasping for air. “I’m gonna kill you later. You won’t know how, or when it’s gonna happen, but oh man, I am gonna get you,” I threatened, treading water beside him. He grinned and ducked me under the water with his hand. After an hour or so of racing each other, seeing who could hold their breath longer and other silliness, we climbed out and I went inside to find Lars a towel. I came back to find him shivering on the deck and I wrapped the towel around him. He came into the kitchen and pointed to the kettle. “Tea?” we said at the same time. I showed him where the downstairs bathroom was and popped up to my room to shower quickly and change. I still hadn’t figured out what to serve for dinner and wondered if he’d be okay with having peach cobbler for main course and dessert. Stepping out of the shower I heard Lars cursing loudly. I wrapped my towel around me and ran downstairs. “What? Stop yelling, you’re scaring the dogs,” I pointed at Duke and Fire, who were whimpering by the back door. “I don’t think that’s why they’re upset…” Lars scratched his head and gave me a sheepish look. “I brought you something for dinner, and part of it seems to have, um, escaped.” He pointed to the floor and I saw a box from Sam’s Fishmarket. “Oh my God. You brought lobster?” I was so thrilled that I momentarily forgot he’d said the word ‘escaped’. “Yeah. Six live ones. But one of them apparently watched The Great Escape last night and pulled a Steve McQueen. Dude was scuttling across the floor when I came in, and now I’m not sure where he went. I’m sorry Charlie, I thought they all had their claws in elastics. I can find him, just give me a minute. You should probably stand up on a chair or something, he might get you before you realize it.” “Oh for heaven’s sake Lars, it’s a lobster, not a cheetah. I’m sure I’ll see him coming. Oooh! See? Look!” I directed his attention to the crustacean that was creeping slowly across the floor, looking for all the world like it knew exactly where it was going. “Zoot, alors, I have meeesed one!” Lars cried in a horrible French accent and then looked back at me. “Little Mermaid, yeah, I know. Freak,” I grinned, and walked past him to pick up the little guy. “We’re gonna eat you first, dude! Cooler for you,” I told him, and placed him back in the box, securing the top tightly. “Well, that was exciting. I’m gonna go get dressed now.” I giggled and went back upstairs. When I came back down a few minutes later, I saw Lars had changed into jeans and a long-sleeve black t-shirt and was pouring tea into mugs. “This is becoming quite a little ritual for us,” he said as we clinked the mugs together. “Cheers, buddy. And thanks for the lobster, that’s awesome. Six of them! Very decadent. I didn’t even know they were in season right now.” “Um…I don’t know if they are either. I just called and asked for some and they said they’d get ‘em in for me. What else are we having? Besides champagne, which I took the liberty of putting in your fridge already.” “Well, the good news is that dessert is totally taken care of. Peach cobbler, and vanilla ice cream. I’m afraid I can only take the credit for the ice cream, the cobbler’s from a neighbor. I hadn’t really decided on what to have yet.” “But I thought you were making me your favorite. I was all excited,” he pouted. “My favorite is pad thai. But I wasn’t sure if you liked that.” “Sounds awesome. You make it, I’ll be in charge of the champagne and killing our good buddy, Steve the Lobster, and all his friends. Cool?” “Cool.” I set about making the sauce and sautéing the shrimp and chicken, and threw in a little bit of tofu just to see if he’d notice. He came and stood behind me at the stove and leaned over my shoulder. “Very nice, Miss Tyler. I see you have added the disgusting substance known as tofu. I’d just like to tell you right now that while I very much appreciate you cooking for me this evening, I will not be touching that with a ten foot chopstick. However, if you’re worried about it going to waste, I can take a doggie bag to Kirk.” He planted a quick kiss on my cheek and then took the champagne from the fridge door. “Champagne glasses? Or any glasses, actually. We don’t have to be fancy.” “Um…dining room, just through there. They should be in the glass cabinet at the top.” I waved my hand towards the dining room and he disappeared into it. Suddenly I heard the strains of ‘Mary Had a Little Lamb’ and knew he’d found the piano. I made sure nothing was going to burn if I left it alone for five minutes and headed to the library. My parents had always encouraged me to read, buying me copious amounts of books for my birthdays and on Christmas, and I couldn’t actually remember an age when I didn’t know how to read. My dad used to joke that he’d come in to get me in the mornings when I was a baby and I’d be wide awake in my crib flipping through ‘War and Peace’. We didn’t have a particular room for books in the house where I grew up. There were bookcases all over the place though, crammed top to bottom with hardcovers, battered old paperbacks and even a couple of first editions. I’d always loved to curl up on the window seat in the kitchen and read while my mom cooked. She’d usually have to come over and playfully tap me on the head with a wooden spoon to get my attention when dinner was ready. When they died, part of the will said they’d like me to have a library in my house someday. The old study in the house seemed perfect for it, with its big fireplace and high ceilings, and two enormous windows that looked out into the backyard. Since the room was big enough to handle it, I also kept my piano in there, along with the cello I’d been given for my 18th birthday, and a couple of guitars. I walked in to see Lars seated at the piano, plunking out notes with a look of concentration on his face. He grinned up at me as he heard me come in. “This is awesome! I can play!” I sat beside him and watched as he slowly picked out the notes for ‘Nothing Else Matters’. “Can you play something for me? I’d accompany you, but I don’t see a drum set,” he smiled. I giggled and started playing. It wasn’t a Met song but I knew he’d recognize it. I glanced over at him and saw recognition flood his face. “Hold on…hold on… Don’t be scared, You’ll never change what’s been and gone,” I sang and he joined in quietly on the chorus. “…cause all of the stars, have faded away, Just try not to worry, you’ll see them someday, Take what you need, and be on your way, And stop crying your heart out…” He slipped his arm around me as I finished the song. “I love Oasis! That was really good, Charlie. Will you play me some more later? Maybe Champagne Supernova on the cello? Hey! Speaking of champagne…” he got up and went into the dining room, and came back with two glasses. “Champagne in the library. We are fancy!” He grinned at me and popped the cork. “This is a cool room. You spend a lot of time in here?” He passed me a glass and sat down on one of the wingback chairs. “Yeah, specially this past winter. If I wasn’t at the office working, I was in here working. Or taking long, musical breaks with a little bit of working in between,” I joked. We sipped in silence for a bit, before Lars spoke again. “James told me about your folks.” I rolled my eyes. “I figured he would. I wanted to tell you myself. Preferably after dinner, so you wouldn’t have that look on your face all though the meal.” “What look?” he raised his eyebrows. “The pity look. I hate it. Look, Danish, can we talk about this later? I really wanted to have a fun, relaxed evening with you. That’s why I asked James to hold off on telling you. Shoulda known he’d ignore me and tell you anyway. Good lord. I find out about one father and all of a sudden I have four new ones!” “You think of me like a father?” Lars wrinkled his nose. “God, woman! Ew! Fathers don’t look at their daughters in a bikini and think ‘hey, sexy…’. You’re so gross,” he giggled and poured more champagne into his glass. He had a point. “Okay, so it’s just James and his protective instincts. But still. Later?” “Yes, fine, later. Let’s eat!” He raced back to the kitchen ahead of me. “Okay,” Lars peered at his plate. “We’ve got chicken, and shrimp, I recognize those, and the sneaky bits of tofu that you put on my plate even though I yelled at you to cease and desist, and bean sprouts, and peanuts, and…little chillis? What else?” “Um, green onion, coriander, the sauce, and the noodles. That’s it. Oh, and lime. You like it?” I watched as he prodded his food carefully. “I do! I’m just looking for the sneaky tofu.” I giggled. “Excellent name for a song,” I said. He laughed and passed me the plate of lobster. I ripped off a claw and dipped it in butter. Taking a bite, I closed my eyes and savored the taste. I felt a finger wiping my chin and opened my eyes to see Lars leaning over. “Hey, messy girl. Enjoying?” he licked the butter off his finger and sat back in his chair. “It’s delicious, Danish, thank you so much for getting it. I haven’t had lobster in ages.” I ignored the fluttering in my stomach that had flared up when he licked his finger. First James, now Lars? I would have to have a serious talk with my stomach later on, there was to be no more of this flippy-floppy feeling. “Babes? You look all serious. What’s up?” Ohhh, nothing. Just admiring the way you’re sucking on your chopstick. Jesus. He blinked at me. Oh no, tell me I didn’t say that out loud. “Hon? What’s going on? Is this about your parents? I’m sorry I brought it up, I just thought you should know that I know…” he trailed off. “Sorry, nothing. I’m fine. Just spaced out for a second there. Must be the lobster. I’m just gonna go put the cobbler in the oven to warm it up a bit. Be right back.” I hustled out of the dining room and fanned myself with an oven mitt. I was far too young for hot flashes, what the hell was going on? I turned around to see a very worried Lars leaning against the counter. “You okay? You look a little warm. Ahhh, champagne getting to you?” He shot me a knowing look. Oh, if only I could blame the champagne. That would be easier to explain than the fact that I really wanted him to kiss me again. He took a step towards me and I backed up until I was against the stove. His face changed from worried to annoyed. “Fuck, Charlie. I just wanna see if you’re okay, I’m not gonna jump you. Can’t you get past that kiss already?” He stormed out to the deck. “Nice one, idiot,” I scolded myself. I walked out to join him on the deck, only to find he had wandered over to the fire pit, which I’d lit before we sat down to dinner. “I’m sorry, Danish. I didn’t mean to back away. I trust you,” I said quietly. “Funny way of showing it, flinching whenever I come near you,” he muttered. What? Hang on. “That’s not fair, Lars. I don’t flinch whenever you come near me. I just got spooked.” He wheeled around and came at me until we were inches away from each other. I stayed perfectly still. I could smell his cologne mingling with the chlorine from the pool. I looked at his eyes, the hurt still in them. “I’m sorry,” I whispered again, and closed the distance between us. Touching his lips gently with my own, I put my hands on his chest, running them over the muscles that were tense under my fingers. Feeling his arms slide around my waist, I willed myself to stay calm. I opened my mouth slightly and licked his bottom lip, smiling as I heard him give a tiny moan of pleasure. He pulled away a little and rested his forehead against mine. “I thought you weren’t ready for stuff like this,” he murmured. “I don’t know if I am. But I wanted to try. I’m sorry,” I started to say more but he laid a hand over my mouth. “Stop apologizing. So many better things we can do with your mouth,” he smiled and leaned in again, capturing my lips with his in a searing kiss that had me cursing myself for wasting two days before doing this. He stepped back and took my hands in his. “If you’re not sure you’re ready for this, maybe we should finish dinner?” I was slightly breathless, so I nodded and we walked back to the house. I knew the man could eat, I’d seen film footage of him putting away a meal pretty quickly. But I wasn’t sure how he could eat four lobsters, two heaping portions of pad thai, and then scarf down half a pan of peach cobbler, not to mention half a bottle of champagne, and not burst. “So…how is it you’re not really, really fat?” I asked him. He laughed and pulled me onto his lap. “Um, drumming and running. And I don’t always have a pretty girl cooking me excellent dinners. Sometimes I don’t even eat dinner. If I’m by myself I occasionally forget to eat. But I always manage to make up for it later,” he grinned. Nudging me off his lap, he began clearing the table. Glancing over his shoulder at me, he said, “Go on in there and warm up, I wanna hear some serious cello playing after I do the dishes.” I wandered into the library and picked up my bow. No Oasis, one song was plenty. I wasn’t really in the mood for classical, though. I tuned quickly and began playing. I think I’d done five or six tunes before I noticed Lars sitting across from me. “Are you secretly in Apocalyptica?” he said, a stunned look on his face. I’d been halfway through The Unforgiven when I saw him. I laughed. “You’d be surprised how easy it is to play your stuff on a cello. Just the melody or lyric line is pretty straightforward. I haven’t quite mastered all the fancy stuff those guys can do though.” I put my bow down and returned the cello to its stand. Moving to sit beside him, I took a deep breath. “I thought about it a little, Danish, and I don’t think I’m ready for anything other than, um, what we were doing outside. I know that sounds lame, but it’s been a while since I’ve, um, been in a relationship, and I don’t wanna jump into anything too quickly, especially since I really, really like you and don’t want to screw up the friendship that we just started. But if you feel like that’s too much of a hassle, and you can’t handle going this slowly, I totally understand. I mean, you’re really attractive, and sweet, not to mention ridiculously famous, so I’m sure you’re spoiled for choice when it comes to women, and I don’t know how long it’ll be before I feel ready to take things further,” I was cut off again by his hand. “Okay,” I mumbled through his fingers, “you gotta stop doing that cause I have a lot to say.” He laughed and removed his hand. “So do I!” he chuckled. “I’m fine taking things slowly. We just met a few days ago, I’m not up for rushing into anything either. Though I am definitely up for staying here tonight so you can go into a little more detail on the part about me being really attractive,” he grinned at me and gave me a quick kiss. “I’m also up for leaving you in peace so you can get a Metallica-free night of sleep. It’s up to you, little one. I promise there won’t be any pressure on you, I can stay in one of the other bedrooms.” I smiled and leaned against him. “You can stay in my room, with me.” He wrapped his arms around me and ran his hands up and down my back. “Are you gonna be wearing the sheep pajamas?” he said in a seductive voice. I laughed and shook my head. “I left those at your house. Actually, I normally sleep naked. Um…” Lars’s eyes widened. “Please wear something tonight, Charlie. Otherwise I’m gonna have to go home. Unless, wait, do you have locks on your bedroom door? Big locks? Big locks and chains?” I glanced down. “Maybe I should just keep my clothes on?” He sighed. “No, that would be a ridiculous. But if you could wear something really ugly, and scratchy, so I’m not too tempted to jump on you in the middle of the night, that’d be good.” I laughed and led him upstairs. I tossed a spare pair of shorts to him, similar to the ones James had borrowed, and he went to change as I shimmied out of my jeans and pulled on a pair of boxers, and a tank top. “Well,” announced Lars as he came out of the bathroom, “you’re wearing some other guy’s underwear. That should definitely put me off,” he grinned. I giggled and waited until he’d got under the covers before turning off the overhead light. Snuggling down beside him I felt his arm snake around me and he pulled me close. “This okay?” he asked softly. I ran my fingers over his bare skin and rested my head on his chest. “This is excellent. You smell so yummy,” I noted. “Yeah, that’d be the pool, or maybe the smell of cooked seafood, or perhaps it’s my coriander and peanut breath. Are you drunk again?” he teased. “Absolutely sober,” I smiled up at him. “You drank most of the champagne, remember?” I lifted my head and kissed his chin. He moved his head to give me better access and I took it as an invitation to lick along his neck and collarbone. He slid his hand under the back of my top and I felt his fingertips play softly along the base of my spine. “Are you drumming on me?” I smiled as I flicked my tongue over his nipple ring. He sucked in a breath and arched against me. “I’m not a drum, Danish. Not a cymbal, or a, um, highhat, or a kickdrum, or, um…” hmmmm. “Those the only ones you know?” he chuckled. “Yup. See why it went so badly at Harley’s?” I continued to lay a trail of kisses over his chest and back up to his neck. I kept moving upwards and when I reached his ear and sucked the lobe into my mouth he gave a Hetfield-worthy growl and flipped me over. “I think,” he gasped, “that we need to stop.” He took a couple of breaths and raised himself up on his elbow. “You are far too good at that for a woman who says she’s been outta the game for a while. God.” He stroked my face “Now, tell me again, quickly, are you sure you’re not ready for anything else?” I shook my head. “Sorry baby.” “No, no being sorry. I just wanted to make sure.” He scooted down beside me and lay on his side, right arm draped over my stomach. “Go to sleep, little one. If we wake up early enough I’ll let you torment me some more in the morning,” he smiled, kissing my shoulder, and closed his eyes. ************************************************************ That's all for now. Hope everybody has a good day. |
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| Mina | March 6, 2008, 8:55 am Post #19 |
Morgenstern
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AWESOME! Everything's so goddamn well written and the story's just WOW. You're so good! Can't wait for more, I'm so hooked
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| Lucifer's Angel | March 6, 2008, 10:00 am Post #20 |
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Heavy Metal Seanchai
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Me too, this is just awesome
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| Broken, Beat & Scarred | March 6, 2008, 12:49 pm Post #21 |
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Ahhhhhh. I love, love, love reading this again ![]() Can't wait for the barbecue, heh. And meh, poor Charlie... I don't want to spoil the surprise, but what she's gone through is so sad... All those nightmares and stuff... :/ Okay, so, my day was great, but you could maybe make it better by posting a few updates, mm? |
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| maisy blue | March 6, 2008, 2:43 pm Post #22 |
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Some Kind Of Monster
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JEALOUS. This is so great!! I seriously hope you've looked into writing as a profession. |
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| Verity | March 6, 2008, 5:09 pm Post #23 |
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The Story Girl
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Wow. Every chapter gets even more amazing. If this were a book sitting on a shelf in a store, I'd certainly buy it. Sorry, I'm not going to write too too much, I'm on a quick break between students.... but this is amazing and I second Maisy on the writing profession. I also now want peach cobbler. I loved the sound of Charlie's house and her dogs. And the description of James's truck made me smile. I love the detail in this. It makes this a very rich read, and I can totally picture everything on my mind. I do wonder what's up with Charlie's dreams though?? and lars is a hoot! I liked his "Hetfield worthy growl." Sorry I can't write more, but I have to go kick some little kid's ass now. Awesome. I hope you'll post some more soon!!
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| Metalicious | March 6, 2008, 7:51 pm Post #24 |
Blackened
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You girls are so kind! ************************************************************* I woke slowly, fighting consciousness. I could feel sunlight pouring through the windows, the rays warm on my back, and the heat of another body lying next to me. And then…something running over my lower leg. I half-opened my eyes and saw Lars had done a 180 and was lying with his head at my feet, propped up on a couple of pillows, tracing his fingertips over my ankle. I smiled as he did another loop around my tattoo. He saw I was awake and twisted around so we were face to face again. “No nightmares?” he whispered, as if he were afraid they might still be on the way. “No nightmares,” I confirmed. I’d slept through the night and couldn’t even remember if I’d had any dreams. “Told you I could keep them away,” he gave me a sweet smile and slid his arm around me. I yelped as he deftly flipped me over and started running his fingers over the small of my back. “So…while you were snoring away this morning, I made a few discoveries that I somehow missed yesterday. You’ve got ink!” I could feel him outlining the artwork just above my hips, and found myself holding my breath as his hand continued upwards to my shoulders. “Here, too. Very nice. And I think I saw another one,” he rolled me over again before I knew what was happening, “ah yes, here.” He gave a little yank on my shorts until the lily was visible. “Hmmmm…I think that one might be my favorite. Or it’s at least tied with that sexy little one on your wrist. And then,” he scooted down to my feet, “there’s this very pretty delicate writing thingy.” I laughed. “That is, indeed, the technical term for that sort of tattoo. Well done, Danish.” He smirked at me. “You gonna translate it or will I have to look it up on fuckin’ google or something later?” “Google it. It’s too early for a Latin lesson right now.” I shoved a couple more pillows behind me so I could sit up and watch him inspecting me. “Okay, so I think I’ve seen all the tattoos, yes? You’re not hiding any more in, uh, other places, are you? Cause I’d like to see those if you are,” he flashed me a wicked grin. “Nope, that’s it. Just the five. Although I’m thinking about getting another one done in a week or two. Any suggestions on where I should have it?” He pretended to think about it for a minute. “I’ve got it. Have ‘I Heart Lars Ulrich’ done, on your butt. Brilliant!” he clapped his hands in delight. I threw a pillow at him. “Only kidding, sweetheart. If you’re getting that done I want it somewhere that everyone can see. Now, what’s this all about? This little scar that looks like a backwards Nike logo beside the Latin thingy? Tattoo guy slip up and have to erase it?” “Actually, no. That’s from dropping a glass right before my first rugby game, and half the damn thing went into my foot. We managed to fish it out, but I played the first half with my cleat full of blood. So gross,” I grimaced at the memory. “Scored a try though,” I winked at him. He laughed. “What else you got?” He sat up and pulled my arms so I was in the middle of the bed with him. “Well, this,” I pointed to a scar on my inner thigh, “is actually a bite mark. Rugby again.” “You play with vampires?” Lars leaned down and squinted at the mark. “Girls. Big, mean girls. Who bite. And then this,” I turned slightly and showed him a small scar on my right shoulder, “is from getting smacked into a reef in the Dominican Republic on spring break of my senior year.” “Seriously? I’m surprised you weren’t then eaten by a shark!” “Me too. I was terrified I’d get bitten before I reached the shore. I swam back so fast I was almost walking on the water.” He chuckled. “Okay, Jesus. And the one above the tattoo on your lower back? Sort of shaped like a square.” I hesitated. “That one’s a secret one,” I said softly. “I’ll tell you about that later. But this, my friend,” I bared my teeth at him and tongued the front right one, “is the piéce de resistance. It got knocked out when I was eight, fell off a horse. Got it fixed, and then broke it again, same tooth, playing street hockey when I was eleven. Fixed again, same dentist. Broke it a third time, when I was seventeen, drinking tequila and I got a little enthusiastic with the bottle. Dentist fixed it again and promised not to tell my parents. Broke it a fourth time a year later. Dentist’s daughter played rugby with me and accidentally knocked it out with her boot. He fixed it for free, that time.” Lars was howling with laughter. “Oh my god. Kirk was right, you could totally be related to James! Who else has that many accidents? God, woman. That’s terrible.” He pushed me back on the bed and started nibbling on my neck. “Pretty damn sexy for a little tomboy, aren’t ya.” I raked my fingers through his hair and he shifted slightly, entwining his legs with mine. I could fee him hard against my hip and fought the wave of nausea that washed over me. It was no use. “Stop, baby, please,” I whispered as he continued to grind against me, licking and sucking at my collarbone. “Lars…please…” I finally shoved him away and ran into the bathroom. A few minutes later, shivering and exhausted, I leaned against the tub, and looked up to see Lars standing in the doorway. “Please, please, please tell me what that was about. Cause if it wasn’t a violent reaction to the lobster, I think we have a problem,” he said, clenching his jaw. I didn’t know what to say. I drew my knees up and rested my head on them. “Charlie? You gonna talk to me?” His tone was still harsh. “Is there somebody else? Are you just after a starfuck but your guilty conscience is making you sick? Seriously, Charlotte. What the hell?” The knot in my stomach doubled in size. Evidently we’d lost the nicknames and were back to the full length, ‘Charlotte’. Wonderful. “I gotta go. I’m due at the studio in like thirty minutes.” He sighed heavily. “I’ll see you tomorrow. I’m not sure if it’s such a good idea anymore but I already promised the boys.” I heard him close the bathroom door as he left and I finally let out the sobs I’d been holding back. I pulled into Benny’s at noon, parking my bike beside his. He immediately came out to greet me and pulled me into a tight hug. “Hey darlin’, thanks for comin’ in today.” Stepping back he took my chin in his hands and looked at me carefully. “Whooo, boy. Better not let me meet the fella that put that look there, he’ll be less one testicle by the time I get through with him,” he grinned at me and threw an arm around my shoulders as we walked into the workshop. “It’s mostly a couple paint jobs I’d like you to handle today. You’re so good at the finicky stuff. We got a couple of hotshot lawyers,” he winked at me, “who want a few Latin phrases on their gas tanks. Can you believe that?” He held up the stencil. “Veri-fast.” I giggled at the play on ‘veritas’. “Makes sense, wouldn’t want them to actually have the Latin word for ‘truth’ on the bike, they’re lawyers for heaven’s sakes, it’d be false advertising!” A retired lawyer himself, Benny was constantly teasing me and saying I should retire from law and work with him full time. “Salary’s shit but think of all the fun we’d have,” was his favorite line. I wheeled the bike out to the back and pulled off my hoodie. Couple of hours of paint fumes and maybe a little sunstroke, I’d forget about this morning’s events. Benny’s oldest son, Mike, came out and tugged on my baseball cap. “Afternoon, Miz Tyler, glad you could join us. But, if you could remove the, um, traitorous hat from your head? We’re strictly Oakland fans around here, alrighty? A’s hats only,” he grinned. “Kiss my ass, darlin’, the hat stays. And would you be a doll and bring out that your cd player for me? I like a little music while I’m doing your work for you,” I winked at him and he laughed. Eighteen year olds were so much fun. Four hours and six paint jobs later, I was grooving along to Jet when I heard Benny yelling for me. Walking through the garage I came out the other side to see him chatting with James and Castor. “This guy says he’s a friend of yours. I’m not sure if he’s the one I need to put a beatin’ on, but I hope he’s not cause he’s got a real nice truck and he’s just told me he wants more work done on it.” Benny tipped his hat at a bewildered James and walked back into the garage. “Hey guys, happy Friday!” I smiled and touched James’ shirt. “Back to Hawaiian shirt days, huh?” “Absolutely. Castor, this is Charlie. You remember when we talked about Cliff?” Castor nodded solemnly. “Well, this is Cliff’s little girl. Except she’s kinda all grown up now.” Wow. I hadn’t heard myself referred to as anybody’s little girl in a long time, and it hit me right in the gut. I was accumulating quite a nice little pile of rope with all those knots. I forced myself to relax. “Hi Castor. It’s nice to meet you. I was just gonna get myself something cold to drink. I think your dad likes lemonade, but we have a whole bunch of stuff in the fridge back there. You guys wanna come in and pick something out?” His eyes lit up and the smile that came over his face was about the sweetest I’d ever seen. “Can I please have a soda?” I smiled back at him. “You bet, buddy, as long as your daddy says it’s okay.” I glanced up at James and he nodded. “Alright. C’mon over here, and you can take your pick.” I swung open the door of the old-fashioned fridge and watched as Castor carefully surveyed the contents. He reached for a Coke and then changed his mind, pointing at the Cream Soda. “What’s that?” he asked in a hesitant voice. “Can I try it?” “Sure. Tell you what, let’s open a Coke, and one of those, and then if you don’t like the Cream Soda, you can have the Coke instead. Just to be on the safe side, yeah?” I would have opened every single bottle in the fridge if he’d keep smiling at me like that. What a cutie. “Yeah. Cool. Just to be on the safe side,” he repeated. I took out the two bottles and turned to James. “And for you, Papa Het? We seem to be out of lemonade. We’ve got other ‘ade’s though, Lucozade, Gatorade, PowerAde…or you could be like your son the daredevil and try something new.” Castor grinned at me and the knots loosened a little. “I’ll have a water, thanks. I’ve grown out of the daredevil stage, passed the torch to this guy,” he said, ruffling Castor’s hair. “Oh yeah. You’re outta that stage. Totally. That’s why you have the trucks, the bikes, the little hot rod, all that totally boring, old guy stuff. Right? The snowboarding, hunting, that’s all for sissies. Not daredevil at all. Dude,” I nudged Castor, “your dad’s saying he’s boring. How do you feel about that?” Castor giggled. “He’s not boring! We went go-cart racing last night. I won!” He sipped happily at his soda and wandered farther into the garage. James moved to lean against the bench next to me. “I, um, hope you don’t mind, I called your friend to see where you’d be this afternoon. Lars mentioned things got a little tense this morning. You okay?” “Yeah…” I said slowly. “I’m okay. I wish I could have explained myself, but he took off so fast and I wasn’t ready to talk.” I took a swig of Coke. “Everything was fine and then…” “And then everything was the opposite of fine?” James finished for me. “You sure you don’t wanna talk about those nightmares?” His blue eyes were bright even in the dim light of the garage and I felt like they were boring holes in my skull. “Stop it, please.” “What?” he backed up. “Stop looking like you’re reading my mind, you’re freaking me out!” He laughed. “Sorry. I wasn’t. I could,” he shot me a sideways glance, “but I won’t. So maybe you could help me out a little so I don’t have to read your mind. Just a little?” I sighed. “I’ve got issues. Baggage. Enough to open a damn luggage store. I care about Lars, I like him a lot, but I haven’t even known him a week and it’s already become this complicated. I should have left things the way they were.” I looked up to meet those eyes again. “I really don’t want you to feel like you’re in the middle of this. That wouldn’t be fair to you. Lars is one of your best friends, isn’t he? I mean, he should be the priority for you…ohhhhh…did you come down here to kick my ass? Cause of what I did?” He grinned and lunged at me. “Yup, I’m gonna kick your butt into next week.” “Papa!” Castor’s panicked voice echoed in the big garage. I looked around for the little blond head and couldn’t see him. Then I noticed one of the hydraulic lifts was raised almost to the ceiling. “Buddy? You up there?” I stood under it and called up to him. A pair of wide, scared eyes peered over the edge at me. “Hi,” he said softly. “I don’t know how to get down.” “Where’s the button?” James sounded calm but the look on his face said he wanted his son down, now. “The lift’s broken, it goes up okay but has to be brought down manually. Benny doesn’t use it anymore. Hang on, dude, I’ll be right there,” I called over my shoulder to Castor as I searched the benches for a pair of gloves. Finding Mike’s work ones I stuffed them in my back pocket and climbed up the framework that was against the wall behind the lift. A minute later I was face to face with Castor. “Hey, bud. Wanna come down with me now?” He shook his head. “Too high. I can’t climb that thing,” he pointed to the wall. “That’s okay. We’re not getting down that way. James,” I leaned over the side of the lift. “Are you wearing a belt today?” “Yeah…you want it?” “Please.” I watched as he undid it and pulled it off, tossing it to me. “Wow…looks like you’ve done that before. Yowza! Daredevil indeed,” I teased and fastened the belt around my shoulder like a sling. I ducked Castor under it and wrapped his legs around me. “Okay, dude, we’re gonna be all Spiderman about our dismount, okay? Hold on,” I put the gloves on, leaned out and grabbed the metal cable that worked as part of the hydraulics. Wrapping my ankles around it I tucked Castor against me and slid down. We reached the floor and I kneeled down and undid the belt buckle. “Can we do that again?” Castor whispered. James laughed, and picked him up and swung him around. “No, little man, we cannot do that again. One scary ride like that was enough.” “Are you boys coming over tomorrow for the little get-together?” I directed the question at Castor. “Yeah, and papa’s bringing his friend, and Myles and Layne are gonna be there too.” “You’re bringing a friend? Hmmm…is he hot?” I winked at James. “Hands off, girlie. Figure out the Lars thing first. And then I’ll introduce you to all my hot rock star friends,” he winked back. The boys stayed for a few more minutes, long enough to work out a time with Benny when James could drop off his truck for some modifications. “Bye, Charlie! See you tomorrow,” Castor waved as James lifted him into the truck. “See ya, buddy. Thanks for dropping by,” I gave him a little wave back and James shut the door, coming over to me. “Don’t stress about this thing with Lars. He’s a little highly strung right now. He’ll work it out and probably apologies for running off on you. Want me to bring anything tomorrow?” “Just your hot rock star friends, man. That’s plenty,” I giggled. The truck pulled away and Benny came out to stand beside me. “That wasn’t the guy?” “Nope.” “Is the guy gonna be there tomorrow? I’d like to know in advance, cause then I can let Tony know.” I gasped. Tony used to work for Benny, as a private investigator. One with absolutely no qualifications except that he was about the size of a gorilla and twice as intimidating. “Tony at my barbecue? That would be awesome! Please invite him,” I begged. Benny laughed. “I already did. You said we could bring friends, right? I’ll try to get him to behave. But maybe you better keep the guy’s identity to yourself, yeah? Just in case,” he said over his shoulder as he walked back into the house. |
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| Metalicious | March 6, 2008, 7:52 pm Post #25 |
Blackened
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Saturday morning found me nursing a hangover the size of Texas. I’d finished up the painting at Benny’s and he’d insisted on taking me out to dinner at a local rib joint he co-owned. Very few ribs and several beers later, I’d stumbled out of a cab and barely made it to the couch before passing out. I woke up at seven, cursed myself quietly for waking up so damn early and tried to go back to sleep. Three hours later, when the phone rang, I had made it up to my bed and was lying with an ice pack on my forehead. I glanced at the caller i.d. “Shhhhhhhh….” I whispered into the phone when I picked it up. “Heee…yeah, I already talked to Ben today,” Trish giggled. “He said you were very entertaining last night. I’m sorry I missed the dinner. Or, The Charlie Tyler Show, as he referred to it.” “Once again, shhhhhhhh,” I repeated. “Poor babes. I’ll be over in a couple of hours to help you set up. Listen, go downstairs, drink a pint of water very slowly, and chase that with a shot of rum. You’ll be fine.” I hung up and went downstairs, following her instructions but leaving out the rum. I wanted no part of that. I squinted in the sunlight that greeted me as I slid the backdoor open. Sitting on the steps of the deck, I stared at the pool. Swimming usually made me feel better, but I wasn’t sure I could be bothered to go in and get my suit. Walking unsteadily to the fence, I saw no sign that anyone was home in the MacLeods’ house next to me, and with Mrs Deanez and her hubby in Vegas, that meant nobody would sneak up on me if I went in the pool without a suit. Feeling very brazen in my hung-over state, I pulled off the t-shirt I’d thrown on to come downstairs, and slipped into the pool. Ahhh, much better. Sinking under the water, I felt the pain in my head easing. I did a few slow lengths and was ready to climb out when I heard James’ voice calling me from within the house. I pulled myself against the side of the pool and prayed he’d come out slowly, or not at all. When I saw him reach the edge of the deck I ducked down a little. “Stay right where you are,” I hollered. “Actually, better idea. Go get me a towel, bring it to me with your eyes closed, and then go away.” He made his way over to the pool and grinned at me. “Are you always naked? Do you have ‘clothes Fridays’ like we have Hawaiian shirt Fridays? But the rest of the time you’re just buck naked, aren’t ya.” I blushed all the way up to my hair. “Good morning, James. It’s very nice to see you. Now would you please go in my house and get me a towel?” “I’m not sure…maybe you should go get the towel. You know, it’s your house, I don’t really know where everything is.” That grin was just getting wider and wider. I glared at him with what I hoped was a withering look. “Okay, okay. Be right back.” He took off to the house and came back a couple of minutes later, making a huge show of placing his hands over his eyes as he approached the pool. “I can’t see, so if I fall into the pool I’m suing you.” “Turn around, please.” I grabbed one of the towels and dragged it along the side of the pool until I’d reached the shallow end. Turning to make sure he was facing away from me I stepped out of the water and wrapped the towel tightly around myself. “All better now?” He bent down and kissed my cheek. “Morning, by the way.” “Jackass.” I muttered at him. “Thanks for the towel though.” “So, is this a regular thing? If I were to come by tomorrow morning too, would I get to see the show again?” “No,” I laughed at his hopeful expression. “I was just trying to get over a hangover. And there was no show, unless you were looking when I asked you not to,” I scolded him. “How’d you get in, anyway? Did you really make seventeen copies of my key and hand them out?” He opened the door for me and took a seat at the kitchen table. “Nope, Lars walked off with it. I’m not sure he meant to, but he wanted to be sure you got it back.” I tried to ignore the sadness that came over me as James placed the key on the table. “So he’s not coming today, then?” Seeing my face, James got up and hugged me. “Yes, he’s coming, you…conclusion jumper. But he won’t be by until late afternoon, and was worried he might forget the key by then. I talked to him a little about yesterday, he feels pretty bad about it.” He stepped back. “And that is all I will say, cause I don’t wanna be a gossip.” “Thanks Het. Wanna stick around? I will be putting clothes on,” I warned him, “and I’m gonna make some coffee as soon as I’m dressed.” “Actually, I was kinda wondering…Castor’s at Lars’, he’ll bring him to the party later, I thought we could hang out and I could help you get stuff ready if you needed. But only if you’re not busy or anything,” he looked down at the floor. “James Alan Hetfield, that’s the best idea I’ve heard all week. You can make the coffee, to start with, and then I’m thinking…little bit of b-ball?” I poked him in the chest as I slid past him. “See if you can beat me again, hmm?” I ran upstairs and he called after me, “Anytime, darlin’, anytime!” I rummaged through my bathing suits and found my black string bikini. Pulling on a pair of black and red board shorts over it, I glanced in the mirror. “Hi Lars, I’m wearing a tiny bathing suit so you’ll think I’m hot, but I’m still not letting you touch me. Yes, that makes me a tease.” I sighed and frowned at my reflection. “Wear it anyway.” James voice made me jump. I turned around to find him leaning against the door. “You can’t live your life in fear of what people are gonna think or say, Charlie. Do what makes you happy, and what makes you feel comfortable.” His eyes traveled over me. “You look nice,” he said softly. “But I’m still gonna beat you at basketball,” he grinned and ran down the stairs. “Dammit, Hetfield!” I raced after him and nearly fell on my butt as I came around the corner to the kitchen. Duke and Fire had risen from their naps and were chasing James around the court. “Yeah, they’re on my team today,” I told him. We played three games, and took our coffee out to sit by the pool. Dangling his feet in the water, James looked over at me. “I talked to Fran last night.” I tried to keep my face neutral. “Oh.” Right. Face was neutral. Voice? Totally sounded surprised. He took a sip of coffee and put the mug down. “She said she might stay away longer. Three weeks instead of two.” He stared ahead. “I’ve never been away from my girls that long. Ever. I don’t want to go out there, I don’t wanna push, but she’s asking so much of me.” “Did you talk to the girls last night too?” He smiled. “Yeah, they’re learning how to ride. Her parents have stables,” he explained. “That’s awesome. Tell her to make sure they don’t fall and break something.” I told him the story behind my fake tooth and he laughed almost as hard as Lars had. He lifted his feet out of the pool and turned so he was facing me. “So, little miss, what’s the deal for today. Do we need go pick up stuff or do you have everything you need?” “Everything I need is actually arriving in about twenty minutes. I ordered online and they’re dropping it off. And since I’m in no hurry to screw up your back, please don’t offer to help carry stuff when the truck gets here. That’s what delivery guys are for.” “So…what am I for, then?” “You, sir, are for looking pretty by the pool. Yes, that’s it exactly. Oh, well done. You’re a natural,” I laughed as he started posing. “And maybe you can entertain Trish when she gets here. You haven’t met, have you?” “Nope. I did speak to her yesterday though, to find out how to find you at Benny’s place. Lars had her number. She sounds nice,” he looked at me earnestly. “Yeah, you be careful. She will just eat you up. Actually, maybe we better move you to the shade. If you get hot enough to take your shirt off she might start nibbling on your arms.” He laughed and then looked serious when he saw I wasn’t laughing. “Heh…you scare easy,” I giggled, “it’s fun.” “Ahem!” We looked up and saw Trish scowling over the deck railing. “I would NOT nibble on your arms.” She walked across the grass and sat down beside James. “I’d start lower,” she flashed him a wicked grin and I hooted as he blushed. “I’m Trish.” “I’m scared,” he held out his hand and she laughed. I heard the doorbell and left the two of them to chat, throwing on a t-shirt as I let the delivery guys in. Half an hour later, all the food and drinks were safely stowed in the kitchen and part of the back porch. I borrowed Trish and we hauled up a bunch of oversized copper pots from the basement, unloaded a whack of ice in them and covered that with what seemed like a gazillion bottles of Corona. “You have limes, right?” Trish said, looking down at the beer. “Yeah…I have…um, no. Crap.” “Go. Go quickly and get as many as you can find. Take hottie with you before I throw him into the pool and have my way with him.” “Aw, geez. Now I kinda wanna stay here,” James grinned as he came into the kitchen. I giggled. “No way. Put something on your feet, we gotta go get limes.” We made it to the store in record time. The drive that normally took me ten minutes took James about three. Running around the produce aisle we piled all the limes into two bags and then raced back to the house. “Oh my God,” Trish stared as us in disbelief. “I said go get limes, I didn’t say break every speed limit and steal some limes, as you obviously didn’t have time to pay for them!” I looked at James out of the corner of my eye. He nodded. “I paid,” he mouthed at me. Whew. Jackson was first to arrive, followed immediately by Matt, and a few of the partners from the firm. Benny showed up shortly after with Tony right behind him, literally. I introduced Tony to James and tried not to laugh as they sized each other up. “James is in that Beatnik group thing,” I told Tony. A huge smile came over his face. “Really? That’s so cool, I love hot rods. I’m gonna go take Benny a beer but when I come back, you can tell me about your car,” he patted James’ arm and went out to the yard. “I dunno if you should tell people about that,” James gave me a wary look. “Dude, you’re not a freemason. It’s okay to talk about it.” He laughed. “Fine. But when Gio gets here later I’m gonna make them arm-wrestle.” “Awesome! My money’s on Tony. No offense to Gio. It’s just…Tony’d probably break my kneecaps if I bet against him.” I heard the rumble of a chopper and James and I raced to the front windows to check out who it was. I threw open the front door. “About damn time!” I shouted and was immediately scooped up by Jake and thrown over his shoulder. He owned a bar and let me moonlight there now and then, and he was almost as large as Tony. His bike was a bigger source of pride to him than his bar, with good reason. He’d bought it cheap and overhauled it himself, taking into the West Coast Choppers shop every couple of months for advice, and had started winning prizes at local bike shows. “Hello, princess,” He patted my butt and let me slide down his back a little further. “Hey buddy. This is my friend James,” I pointed from my upside down position. “Lemme go, all the blood’s rushing to my head,” I grunted. Jake righted me and put me down, shaking James’ hand. “Nice wheels, man,” James gestured out the window. “Thanks. Wanna take a look?” James lit up like a kid at Christmas and followed Jake down to the bike. Walking through to the kitchen I saw Benny and Jackson engaged in yet another discussion of a case that had been bouncing around the Supreme Court lately. Every time those two got together, they went at it like opposing counsel. I think Jackson saw it as good practice, and Benny saw it as good fun. Yanking my t-shirt off when I reached the backyard, I pulled a Corona out of the ice, opened it and clinked my bottle with Trish’s. “Nice day for a barbecue, don’t you think?” “He’s so hot, Charlie. I think you should jump him.” I choked my beer down. “That is so not what I asked! What about Lars? I gotta get that sorted out before I jump anybody. And what are you saying, anyway? I’m not up for jumping anyone right now. Go ‘way,” I gave her a little shove towards Matt. Six carloads, numerous taxis, and two more bikes had arrived by this point, and people were piling into the backyard. I went out front to where Jake and James were both lying on the ground examining the underside of James’ truck. “Um…gentlemen?” I bent down. “I hate to interrupt the automobile lovefest, but I’m wondering if we should start cooking. I was sort of hoping one or both of you could take charge with the meat.” “I’ll do it,” they said at the same time. “Excellent. You can both be in charge. Meat’s in the fridge, and James, there’s a bunch of veggie burgers for Kirk and a few other of my non-meat buddies, if you could do those up too, maybe on a different part of the grill and use a different, um, flipper thingy, yeah? Thanks guys.” I moved past them to greet a bunch of girls from Jake’s bar, and saw Kirk pulling up with Rob in the passenger seat. The two of them looked like they’d just come from the beach, all tousled and energetic. “Surfing?” I asked as I hugged Rob. “You know it, dawg. Nice shorts! You’re gonna have to come with me and Kirk one of these times, you know. Let us see what you got,” he let go of me and I looped my arms around both of them as we walked up the front lawn. “Beer’s in the buckets, meat and non-meat will be ready in a bit, and the pool’s all set if you feel like getting back in the water.” Something was missing. Ah, yes. Tunes. I managed to pull Jake away from the barbecue long enough to help me move the stereo out to the deck. Hooking my Rio up to it, I hit ‘Play All’, and The Killers started up with Mr. Brightside. I came up behind James as he was flipping steaks with one hand, and eating a burger with the other. “S’up, homie?” “Nothin, dude, just grillin’ and chillin’,” he flashed me the metal horns with his steak-flipping hand. “When’s your friend getting here? I’m all excited to meet my new rock star boyfriend,” I teased. “Actually, he should be here soon. And Lars just arrived. Go talk to him,” he gave me a little push. “Go,” he grinned at me. “What? No, hey, I need a minute to think of what to say,” I stalled. He reached down and pulled a Corona out of one of the copper pots. “Say ‘Hi Lars, have a beer, let’s chat’.” I smacked him with the bottle. “What? It’s better than, ‘Hi Lars, I’m wearing a tiny bikini so you’ll think I’m hot’.” Jake glanced over and gave James a weird look. “Man, I don’t even wanna think about you in a tiny bikini.” James laughed. “Go, Charlie. And send the little guys over here.” I popped the cap on the Corona and walked slowly over to Lars and the boys. “Hey Castor, your dad’s looking for you. He’s over by the barbecue.” I pointed to James, and Castor and Myles headed over, each holding one of Layne’s hands. “Hey, you. That for me?” Lars reached for the bottle. “Yep. But you can’t have it yet.” I moved past him and turned around. “Well, c’mon.” I led him upstairs and sat on my bed. He immediately put a hand over my mouth and I couldn’t help but giggle. “You’re either gonna apologise, or you’re gonna start crying. There’s no need to do either. I’m the one who should be sorry. I acted like a dick. I should have given you time to collect your thoughts and maybe we could have sorted this out yesterday. I’m sorry, little one.” He bent over slowly and pressed his lips to my forehead. “Me too,” I looked up at him. “I should have warned you. When I said I wasn’t ready for anything else, I meant I’m absolutely not ready.” I let out a little sigh. “I like you a lot, Lars, and I have an awesome time when we’re together. And no, there’s nobody else, and I’m certainly not in this for a roll in the hay with a famous guy. I like you, Danish, not Lars Ulrich, ego of Metallica.” He grinned at me. “But I’m starting to realize that it’s not fair to expect some sort of relationship with you when I’m not able to give you the physical side.” I let out a little sigh. “Even though I’d really, really like to.” He chuckled and sat down beside me, taking my hand in his. “It’s fine, babe. Let’s just continue with the friends thing, and I’ll leave the ball in your court with the rest of it. And if and when you’re ready, we can talk about it then. Sound like a plan?” “Yup,” I smiled. “Thanks for being such a sweetheart about this. Other guys have been, um, less understanding.” “I’m not other guys,” he put on a serious face. “I’m a motherfuckin’ rock star.” We both cracked up. “C’mon, rock star, let’s go get some food.” I grabbed his hand and led him back downstairs. I watched Lars and James exchange hugs and high-fives, and then backslaps, followed by a complicated looking handshake. “Oh my God, how long does it take you two to say hello?” I peeked around James’ elbow. “You’re overcooking the meat again, Hetfield.” “Put a lid on it, Tyler. Hey, the rock star friend arrived with Gio while you were gone. He’s around here somewhere, hang on.” Lars gave me a curious look. “First you have other friends and now you have other rock star friends? I’m beginning to think I’m not special.” “Oh, you’re special, buddy. In the Olympic sort of way.” I giggled. “Sorry, very politically incorrect of me.” I turned around and was about to lean down to chat to Castor when I heard a very loud, Southern drawl to my left. “Charlotte Elizabeth Victoria Tyler!” I was swept off my feet and wrapped in Pepper’s arms before I could speak. He put me back down and held me at arms length, then picked me up again, planting kisses all over my face. Putting me down once more, he took my hands and gently kissed them. “Missed you, baby girl,” he said softly. |
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| Broken, Beat & Scarred | March 6, 2008, 8:27 pm Post #26 |
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PEPPER! Yay! ![]() Oh and this was my favorite part so far: “What? It’s better than, ‘Hi Lars, I’m wearing a tiny bikini so you’ll think I’m hot’.” Jake glanced over and gave James a weird look. “Man, I don’t even wanna think about you in a tiny bikini.” But better parts coming up. Hee, can't wait and post more sooooon :}
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| Verity | March 6, 2008, 10:43 pm Post #27 |
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The Story Girl
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Every word of this is so damn good. You have a gift for writing the dialogue parts.... the hard parts. I want to find out more about this Pepper dude. I like Southern drawls on men. This was funny as fuck He pretended to think about it for a minute. “I’ve got it. Have ‘I Heart Lars Ulrich’ done, on your butt. Brilliant!” he clapped his hands in delight. And let's see now.... so was this Saturday morning found me nursing a hangover the size of Texas. Sadly, I must say that I know how a hangover the size of Texas feels. I'm sure that James rather enjoyed Charlie's show in the swimming pool. This was good too “Um…gentlemen?” I bent down. “I hate to interrupt the automobile lovefest, but I’m wondering if we should start cooking. I was sort of hoping one or both of you could take charge with the meat.” I also really liked the part with Castor.... and go karting. Go karting is good fun. And damn.... falling off of a horse is sure brutal. When Charlie was talking about her tooth falling out all I could think was "ouch, ouch ouch!" I love all the detail in this. It brings everything to life. I also like the story because it's rather lively, and lively makes me happy. |
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| Lucifer's Angel | March 7, 2008, 9:58 am Post #28 |
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Heavy Metal Seanchai
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What a way to start my Friday morning Great chapter. Lars was being a dick in the beginning, though, at least he apologized. And Castor is such a sweetie, he's gonna be a heartbreaker like his daddy That party sounds soooo fun, I haven't been to a barbeque in ages , the weather's too cold for that
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| maisy blue | March 7, 2008, 10:44 am Post #29 |
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Some Kind Of Monster
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Yay- I'm caught up again! This is so good. Totally believable. This is one of those fictions when I want everyone to leave me alone while I read it. I totally get engrossed. Charlie is, like, every man's dream girl. She likes bikes, basketball, grilling, and she wears tiny tiny bikinis while doing it all - GREAT character. She's appealing but still complex. I am really interested in what is haunting her. I love your description of locations. I can *easily* picture them in my mind while reading, and that's always the hardest thing for me to do when reading a fic. I always tend to picture all the characters on s stage or in a black hole. I want to move into Charlie's house... I want to make more specific comments, but I have to get going for an appointment at 10am. Please update soon!
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| Mina | March 7, 2008, 12:30 pm Post #30 |
Morgenstern
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AWESOME! Such a great chapter! I so can't wait for more, I'm so addicted to this fiction!
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That party sounds soooo fun, I haven't been to a barbeque in ages
, the weather's too cold for that 
8:39 PM Jul 10