Done agonising over this one...

[nwhiker]

I wrote a story a few weeks back. I love the ending, which is the part I started with. I'm not sure, however, that the story I wrote to give the background to the ending works, really.

Basically... I wrote 15000 words of background to explain the 1300 of the story I wanted to tell. And ultimately, I don't think the explanation works. There is nothing majorly wrong with it.... it just doesn't explain what I needed explained.

So maybe I need to forget about explaining? Because I keep on staring at this story and trying to make it work, nad I can't. It's driving me batty... not that it's hard to drive me batty, of course, but still!

So here's the story I wanted to tell. Maybe some day I'll be able to figure out how to make the two halves fit together.

I'm rating it R. And for those who might be freaked out, it's het, not slash. FYI.



That Evening

Grey would wonder for days, weeks, months, years, what had happened that evening in May. It had felt so normal, so much like every other evening they'd gone home together over the past four years.

His phone beeped with a text, and he stood and stretched. Lauren would be by to pick him up in fifteen minutes. He closed his computer, grimacing at the paper he was doing a peer review on, it probably should have been rejected.

He stopped by Liam's office on his way downstairs.

"Bye, Liam. See you tomorrow."

"Yup. Grey. You and Lauren will be coming for dinner on Sunday?"

"I assume so. Lauren hasn't said otherwise."

"Good. Pris is going to see if she can skype in from Haiti. Never thought the communications would be as bad as they are."

"I know, it is surprising."

"How's the paper going?"

"Could be better... Look, I gotta go, Lauren is picking me up."

"Give her a kiss for me, ok?"

"Will do."

She had the Prius and was waiting for him, parked illegally. He got into the car, and they kissed.

"Your dad said to give you a kiss," he said. "This one is from him," he kissed her lightly on the cheek. "This one is from me." They kissed for a while.

"How were classes?" he asked as she drove towards the ferry.

"OK. Busy. Difficult. I'll be at the hospital on and off for the next few days too."

"Do we need to take two cars tomorrow?"

"I don't think so. Did you remember to get coffee? We're out."

"Yup. In my computer bag."

They stayed in the car on the ferry ride Lauren was reading the notes she'd taken that day, and Grey had taken out his computer to work on the article review. He stroked her thigh, idly at first, and then with more purpose. He slipped his hand between her legs, and touched her through her clothes.

She giggled. "Grey..."

"Where are we? Do we have time?"

She checked landmarks. "No, not for anything worth doing."

He sighed, but left his hand where it was, and slid the other under her shirt. Her bra was a lace one that he particularly liked, and he smiled. "I like that bra," he said.

"I know you do." Her voice was hoarse.

"Your nipples are hard."

"I know..."

"Think we can make it home?" he asked, leaning over to kiss her.

The ferry docked.

"We pretty much have to," she said. "Grey, can you drive?" He smiled at her as they quickly got out of the car to change seats, stopping to kiss.

His adherence to the speed limit was spotty as he got them home. The people who rented the main house were having a party on the deck, so Lauren and Grey got to their place as fast as they could, dumping backpacks and computers near the front door, and scooted upstairs.

There, things slowed down. They undressed each other, kissing and touching as they did. Grey knelt in front of Lauren to pull her soaked panties down, and buried his face between her legs, loving the feel of the soft hair, the smell of her, the wetness, loving the sounds she started making, the feeling of her clitoris on the tip of his tongue. He had cupped her buttocks with his hands, to help her stay upright, but even that didn't help, and they ended up on the bed, she kicked off her jeans, he was already naked, and he continued with what he'd been doing. She'd left her bra on, and he enjoyed that too.

It was dark, and very late by the time hunger drove them downstairs. Lauren put on her robe, a heavy silk one her grandmother had bought her for her birthday the previous year, but Grey pulled on his clothes.

They sat on the edge of the bed for a few more moments, just being next to each other.

"That was nice," he said.

"It really was. And I have no idea where you tossed my bra," she said.

"It's somewhere."

She laughed as she took his hand, and kissed his palm. "You really like that bra."

"Yeah, I do, ok? Gimme a break!"

She laughed again, and found the bra between the mattress and the headboard.

"Here it is," she said, and she put it under his pillow. "There. You can dream about me."

He held her close, feeling her body against his, and he kissed the top of her head. "I love you," he said. "I love you so much." They stood there for a long time.

While she was reviewing notes from that day, he scrambled eggs, heated up tortillas, and found salsa in the fridge. He set out a bowl of strawberries, and smiled as he cracked eggs, watching as Lauren, without looking up, extended her hand to get a berry, and eat it. She loved strawberries. He'd planted a whole bunch of them the previous year, without telling her, in a sunny area near the shop and garage. They should bear fruit that summer, and he looked forward to surprising her.

They ate at the small table, sitting across from each other, feet touching. After, Grey got up to do the dishes, while Lauren continued to work. He knew he'd have to get up early to finish his own work. He was about to hang up the dish towel when Lauren said, "Grey?"

He walked out of the kitchen area, stood between it and the little table, still holding the damn dish towel.

"Yeah?"

She was looking up from her papers and laptop, in her silk robe, and he thought that she'd gotten even more beautiful as she entered her twenties.

"I want you to leave."

His heart stopped. Everything stopped.

"Excuse me?" he said. His voice wasn't normal, but it was a voice at least.

"It's over. I want you to go now."

He closed his eyes for a moment, willing himself not to pass out, not to throw up. Hot and cold waves of -what?- panic maybe seemed to be coursing through his body. There was as yet no pain.

He nodded slowly. He'd always known it wouldn't last forever. She'd been too young, she'd have found a younger, better person, someone her own age, not fourteen years older, she-- He turned and went back to hang up the dish towel. His breathing sounded loud in the quiet room. Lauren wasn't looking at him, but had gone back to her notes. He went to the door, took his jacket off the hook, put it on, shoved bare feet into his tennis shoes. His Subaru keys were hanging next to the Prius's ones. He took them, dropped them in his pocket, went to get his laptop.

He was moving in molasses. His laptop felt heavy, and he remembered the pound of coffee beans. He took them out, and walked over to the table to put them down. Near her, again, he fought against dizziness, against the desire to cry and beg. He didn't. He owed her at least this, what'd he'd always promised: you say stop, and I stop. She said leave, and he'd leave. He put the coffee down, turned away. At the door, his hand on the knob, he stopped and spoke again, his voice flat, "May I move my things out on Saturday?"

"Yes," she said.

He nodded again, though since his back was to her, he didn't know if she was looking. He turned the knob, opened the door, and without turning said, "Goodbye, Lauren."

"Goodbye, Grey."

He left, walking up the small path to the garage. The party at the main house had broken up and everything was dark.

He didn't make it to his car. He passed the patch of strawberries, and saw, by the light from the little house, that there were blossoms on the plants. He fell to his knees on the damp ground, buried his face in his hands, and started to cry.