Date: Wed, 26 Jan 2005 02:15:20 -0500 (EST)
From: Blue OConnor <ladylovey4@yahoo.ca>
Subject: Perfect 11 (Revised)

	I'm so embarrassed; I accidentally posted the unedited version of
this chapter.  This is right version, I hope you enjoy, sorry for the mix
up.



Perfect


Edited by: Tom



~ Chapter 11 ~



Flashback - Gabriel's POV



    	I pulled the small bottle from Tommy's puckered mouth, placing it
on the coffee table.  I stood up and moved his body onto my chest, his head
lying on my shoulder.  I rubbed his back soothingly.

    	Derek and Elaine were both were asleep in bed, the exhaustion
having a newborn catching up with them.  It wasn't that Tommy was a fussy
baby, he was actually pretty mellow most of the time but having a child
depend on you for everything was a scary experience for all of us.

    	Tommy let out a small burp.  I chuckled, "Feel better now don't
you?"  I shifted him again; his head nestled in crook of my arm.

    	Tommy squirmed, reaching to tug at my hair.  He yanked then beamed
at me with a drooling smile.

    	"No, No," I admonished the mischievous four month old, "None of
that."  I unwrapped his fingers from my hair, the last time I let him play
with it he had yanked so hard on it I swear I got a bald spot.

   	He bounced for a moment, his small butt squirming, his tiny fist
moving, showing his displeasure, until I began to rock him.  He quieted
immediately, and as I started singing an old lullaby my father had sung to
me.  He smiled in contentment and reached to touch my face.

    	He moved his mouth and made off-key non-words as he tried to sing
along.  I couldn't help laughing at his cute efforts.

    	His body gradually relaxed and he fell asleep as I continued to
rock him.  It was such a peaceful moment I wanted to freeze it and bring it
out to experience again when I was ready to lash out in frustration.

    	I put his soft, relaxed body into his crib (Derek and I had
barrowed it from the Home Economics room) and watched him.  He had screamed
with glee when I had walked into the room.  Silly, in that moment I had
felt more wanted and loved than any other time in my life.  Now his little
bottom was hiked up in the air and his thumb sat loosely in his mouth.

	A sweet sensation crowded my chest.  He was so tiny.  He was a
small innocent baby, who completely needed all of us, but we needed him
too.  He was all of our reasons for trying so hard to keep our home a
secret.  That wasn't easy to accomplish with a six-week-old baby screaming
for food.  I mean the walls are thick, but we were all afraid that one day,
someone would hear him and come to investigate.  So we became like a
well-oiled machine, taking shifts between us, making sure everything he
needed, he got.  I hardly ever slept in my room anymore; the couch was
becoming my permanent bed.  Hell, even Derek and I have stopped arguing
because a hostile environment wasn't good for the baby.

	Eventually I returned to the couch, lying down I closed my eyes,
not falling asleep but resting my body, my mind drifting over the last few
months.

	The transition into motherhood was not easy one for Elaine.

	I smiled, remembering another night when I had awoken to a
screaming two mouth old Tommy.  Elaine had been passed out on a chair
beside the crib.  I had gone over to pick him up when Elaine had jerked
awake. Her legs seemed to move on auto, her mind not completely awake, when
she plowed into me she had stared at me dazed, as if I had just appeared
out of no where.

	I turned around and looked at her.  "Good Morning."

	Tommy howled.

	"I'm guessing he needs to be changed and fed."

	"Changed," she echoed, mind still fuzzy.  "Diaper," she said, not
looking forward to the task.

	I nodded.

	She grabbed a fresh diaper and the pack of wipes.  "Lets do this on
the couch."  She said and I placed Tommy on the couch, screaming at top
volume.

	Mrs. Wright, after taking care of Elaine, had given us advice on
what we needed for the future.  She had told us to buy cloth diapers
instead of disposable ones because they could be washed and reused, so we
wouldn't have to sneak out in order to get supplies as often.

    	Elaine bit her lip.  "I'll get better at doing this soon, but for
now cut me some slack," she said to Tommy as she pulled off his plastic
pants and unfastened the pins.  "I just hope it's not a mess-OMIGOD," she
said in dismay.  "How is it possible for such a small being to produce such
a large quality of-"

    	"You might not want to leave him uncovered," I suggested.

    	She shot me a quick glance of confusion.  "What do you mean?"

    	I pointed.  "He might-"

    	She glanced down and a tiny fountain of baby tinkle sprayed her
nightshirt.  She covered his spigot with a diaper, and then looked up at
me.  "Could you please bring me another diaper?"

    	I brought another and she began to wipe up Tommy, none too
efficiently.  Tommy cried louder and Elaine grew flustered.

    	Her hands were shaking when she completed her task.

    	When Tommy was clean, fed, and back to sleep Elaine had sat on the
couch, her head in her hands, eyes filled with tears.

    	"Why am I not better at this?"

    	I drew her close to me.  "Stop beating yourself up, your doing the
best you can."

    	"Am I a bad mother?"

    	"No! Why would you think-"

   	"Because," she said, not allowing me to finish.  "I don't know what
the hell I'm doing, I don't like washing dirty diapers, and I'm tired all
the time."

	I let her vent, then said, "No ones instinctual on how to take care
of a baby.  Everything comes with practice.  The only reason I knew he was
going to pee on you is because the little bugger did it to me."  I cupped
her face in my hands.  "You're in a tough situation, and all the help you
have is two inept men, give yourself a break."

    	She laughed.  "Thanks."

    	"No problem."

    	It wasn't smooth sailing from there by any means but Elaine started
to lighten up more, the pressure she was putting on herself to be the
instant perfect mother slowly lifting.


~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~


    	"Gabriel can I please see you in my office after class."

    	I glanced at Mr. Paterson in surprise.  His class was the only one
I felt truly comfortable in since I started school here.  Mr. Paterson was
until then the only teacher I ever had who allowed us the freedom to do
what we wanted.  If you needed to paint outside he'd let you, as long we
were being productive he never interfered.

    	After class I walked into his office, well studio actually.  On the
walls were paintings from various local artists, some I think he'd done
himself.

    	"You wanted to see me sir?

    	He sat at his desk, a file in front of him.  My file.

    	"Is everything alright with you Gabriel?"

    	"Yes, why wouldn't it be?"

    	He looked up at me.  "Well, you've moved half way around the world.
You've isolated yourself from everyone in all of your classes.  You don't
call home, or get any calls from relatives..."

   	My spine stiffened, "...and you get defensive whenever I mention
your family, why is that?"

    	I clenched my jaw.  "Why is that your concern, sir?"

    	"Because I'm worried about you."

    	"Don't be, I'm fine."

    	He stared at me, and it took all my strength not to look away.
"You're fine, really?  Then why do you show up for class looking like you
haven't slept, and instead of painting, fall asleep at your easel?"

    	`Because, I'm helping raise a newborn baby,' I answered in my mind.

    	"I haven't been sleeping well, sir."

	He signed, "Gabriel, I can't help you if you don't talk to me."

    	I stood, stubbornly silent.

    	"Whatever you're going through, you don't have to go through it
alone."

    	"I'm not alone." I whispered.

    	"What?"

    	That seemed to give him pause.  "I'm not alone."

    	"Care to elaborate?"

    	"No."

	He shook his head in defeat.  "When your ready to talk come to me
ok."

    	Without a word, I left his office, his words going through my head.
I headed to the library.  It was my shift to watch Tommy.

    	Right now we were all living in limbo, waiting for Derek to turn
eighteen, it wouldn't be long now.  Just one more week and then they were
free, free to more out of this place and start living in real house.

    	There was a corner of my heart that didn't want it all to end.  The
selfish voice that asked, `What about me?'  What would happen when they
left, I couldn't go.  I would be trapped here alone again.


~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~


Present Day- Gabriel's POV



    	"So did it go?"  Elaine questioned yet again.  Since I called her
she kept badgering me for information about Connor but I refused to answer
her questions, which of course only made her more curious.

    	"Elaine."

    	"What?"

    	"I'm your boss right?"

   	She snorted.  "Like that's going to work."

    	I chuckled.  "Elaine, we have work to do."

    	"And I would very be cooperative in helping you finish that, when
you tell me what I want to know."

    	"That's not fair."

    	"I never am."

    	I signed, giving in as I always did.  "Everything went great."

    	She squealed.  "Really?"

    	I pulled the phone away from ear.  "You're such a girl."

    	"Of course, what else did you think I was, Bighead?"

    	I shook my head; I wasn't going to answer that one.

    	"So, when are you seeing him again?"

    	"Well if you would let me get back to work, I'll being seeing him
as soon as I'm finished."

    	"Fine, fine, spoil my fun."  Her voice turned serious when she
said.  "You sound happy."

    	"I am."

    	"I'm glad, you deserve that."

    	"Don't get mushy on me, Brat."


~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~


    	Afternoons were my favorite time to work; I always got the most
work done.  Usually I'd loose myself in what I was doing, so much I lost
track of time.  Like today, when I finally glanced up from next weeks
invoice's I realized it was 4:00 and Connor had still not arrived.

    	I picked up the phone and dialed his number, only to have it ring
out and his answering machine come on.  Thinking he was on his way, I went
into the kitchen to check out what I had in order to make dinner.

    	Only a few vegetables and leftovers sat in the fridge.  Deciding to
get groceries, I wrote Connor a note telling him where I was.

    	I made the trip there and back in less than forty minutes, picking
up the essential foods as well as two steaks for dinner.

    	When I arrived at home Connor's car was not in the driveway, and
when I entered the house, I found it quiet.

    	"Connor, you are here?"

    	No answer.

    	"Connor?"

    	Still nothing.

    	I dropped the groceries onto the kitchen counter and went to phone,
but yet again his machine picked up.

    	"Hey honey, when I said, see you later I meant later today, not
tonight," laughed, "if you're home pick up the phone."  I waited, but no
one came on the line.  "I guess you're running late, erase this message
when you get it."

    	I put away the groceries and began to prepare the steak.  Another
two hours went by and still no Connor.  I grew worried.  I couldn't shake
the chilling feeling in back of my mind, that something was wrong.  I
called him again but still no answer.

    	Fallowing my instincts I jumped into my car, and drove to his
condo, taking short cuts instead of the high traffic highway.

    	I rung his doorbell, nothing, not a sound came from the other side
of the elevator door.

    	"Connor, if you're in there open up, you're scaring me."  I
shouted.

    	I banged against the door.

    	Nothing.

    	I was getting more frantic, by the minute, what was going on, where
was he?

    	The doorman, if Connor, left the building, the doorman would have
seen him.

    	He was leaning against the front doors, as I exited the elevator
door.  I rushed up to him.

    	"Excuse me, did you see Mr. Neil leave this afternoon."

    	He nodded.  "Yes, I did."

    	"When?"

    	He eyed me closely.  "I'm not sure I should give out that kind of
information."

    	"Please, it's important."

    	"He left around one or two o'clock."

    	"And he hasn't returned?"

    	"No sir,"

    	"Thank you," I muttered, as I walked away.  If he had left this
afternoon, then where was he?


~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~


Connor's POV


    	The blackness lasted for only a few seconds.  I was aware that
there was chaos around me: voices yelling, sirens shrieking, tires
screeching but other than that I was numb to anything else.  I couldn't
feel any pain, though I knew that I was hurt.  I rested my head on the
steering wheel, too weak and dazed to try to get of the car.

   	I closed my eyes and drifted, through time, through places, until I
found myself standing in Gabriel and my old tree house.  Gabriel was
sitting through the opening of the door, his legs dangling in air; this was
a scene so familiar to me.  I had watched him countless times as he was
now, but this wasn't Gabriel the boy, this was my Gabriel, the man he'd
become.

    	He glanced at me and smiled, patting the space in front of him.
"Sit."

    	I sat between his legs, his arms coming to wrap around me.

    	"Where are we?"  I asked.

    	"You know."

    	"Yes, but why are we here?"

    	"Because you need to be."

    	"Am I dead?"

    	"No, Connor, you're fine."

    	"So this isn't heaven?"

    	He chuckled.  "No, just a dream."

	"I used to always dream about you." I said.

    	"Really?"

    	"Yeah."

    	"What kind of dreams?"

    	I laughed, "Dreams of you coming to rescue me."

    	"Why did you need rescuing?"

    	"I was scared."

    	"Of what, honey?"

    	"Of not seeing you again."  I turned to him, my gaze filled with
sorrow.  "Why did you leave me?"

    	"I didn't have a choice."

    	"We always have choices."

    	"Not always."

    	"Why?"

    	"I can't answer that."

    	"Are you going to leave me again?"

    	"You have to wake up for me to answer that."

    	"Why?"

    	"Because you can't stay here Connor."

    	I sat there for a moment, my head against his shoulder, his heart
thumping against the back of my head.

    	"Wake up, Connor."  He whispered in my ear.

    	I blinked, the vision fading away.

    	I was lying on a gurney, in front of an ambulance, a woman bent
over me.  I sat up, wincing at the pain in my head.

    	"Don't try to get up."  She said, gently pushing me back onto the
gurney.  "Are you alright?"

    	"I think so."  I looked around; traffic in both directions had come
to a complete halt.  Steam rose from the crumpled hood of the car that had
hit me, and other motorists were helping the woman inside.  On the other
side of the four-lane, tow or three cars rested at weird angles in the
road, but the damage there seemed to be mostly in the fender-bender range.

    	"I want you to lie right there, no more trying to get up, just in
case you're hurt worse than you realize and don't feel it yet.  Do you feel
any sharp pain any where?"

    	"My head, my ribs."  Actually my whole face hurt as if I'd gotten
in a fight and lost.

    	I glanced around again at the chaos, at the bloody people sitting
on gurneys beside me, and it shook me to my core.  I had done this? It was
an accident; I knew it was, but still... I was the cause.  My car.  Me.
Guilt ate at me.  I kept my car in good running condition, but had I
overlooked some key maintenance?  Not paid attention to a warning sign that
my brakes were about to fail?

    	"Is anyone hurt bad?"

    	The smile she gave me was sympathetic, seemly understanding my
fears.  "Just bumps and bruises, nothing life threatening."

    	"Thank God."

    	"I'm going to check you for any other injures, ok?" I nodded, as
she lifted my shirt, she poked at my ribs, I hissed in a breath of pain.
"It's ok, they're just bruised, nothing's broken."

    	She touched the cut on my head.  "A butterfly bandage will cover
this."  She took my pulse, and then flicked a tiny penlight from eye to
eye.

    	"The air bag has given you a nice black eye."  She said.  "Were you
wearing your seat belt?"

    	I nodded; so then she checked me for seat-belt injuries.

    	"Other than, cuts and bruises, you should be alright, but you I
want you to go to the hospital to make sure."  She then moved to someone
else.

    	I lay there for what seemed like hours, sirens screaming around me
until finally a cop came over and took my statement.  When it came time for
me to go to hospital, one word popped into my head: Gabriel.

     	My eyes widening, realizing the sun was setting, he must be out of
his mind with worry or pissed off I hadn't showed up.

    	I sat up, and then walked over to a cop my muscles screaming in
protest.  "Excuse me, can you please call me a cab?"

    	He turned to me, "I'm sorry sir, but you need to go to the
hospital."

    	I shook my head.  "No, I need to be some where, right now, please
call me a cab or I'll find one myself."

    	He looked like he was about to protest, so hurried on to explain.
"I'll go the hospital first thing in the morning, the EMT said there was
nothing wrong with me that aspirin and Band-Aids won't cure."


~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~


    	Rain began splattering on the windshield just as the taxi turned
onto his street.  Darkness had fallen, deepened by the cloud cover.
Lighting flashed briefly in the west, lighting up the belly of the storm,
and thunder rumbled.

    	His house was dark.  My stomach clenched at the thought that he
wasn't there, maybe he had gotten fed up of waiting.  Drawing in a breathe
of courage I hobbled up the stairs, in order to ring the doorbell, but
before I could, it whipped open, there standing in the doorway we a
Gabriel.  He loomed over me, his face dark and savage.  He seized my by the
arms, his fingers biting in my already bruised flesh.

    	"Where the yell have you been?" he shouted.

    	His anger startled me.  "I-I-I" I stammered

    	"You haven't answered your phone, you weren't home.  I thought
something was wrong."  He bit out, shaking me.

    	"Gabriel." I gasped out, tears filling my eyes.

    	"What?" he snarled.

    	"Yo-ou're hurting me."

    	He looked down at his long fingers encircling my writ, loosening
his grip and scowling at the dark red marks there.  "I didn't mean to hurt
you." He said, his thumb brushing softly against the injured skin.

    	"I'm sorry."  I said.

    	His chest heaved as he pulled me into his arms; his lips met mine
immediately, his tongue thrusting into my mouth savage, hungry.  I
whimpered, pulling my lips from his.

    	"What's wrong?" he asked, and then froze when he licked his lips
and tasted my blood for the first time.

    	He pulled me into the house, flicking on the light.  His sucked in
a sharp breath, when his gaze took stock of my injuries.

    	"Who the hell did this to you?"  He bellowed.

    	I smiled gently at him.  "My car."

    	"What?"

    	"I was in a car accident.  My brakes failed."

    	His face paled.  "Are you ok?"

    	"Yes."

    	"Are you sure?"

    	"Yes."

    	He looked unconvinced.  I wrapped my arms around him, placing my
head onto his shoulder.

    	"I'm Ok."

    	His body was stiff and unyielding.  "Have you been to the
hospital?"

    	I didn't want to answer that because I knew he would just get more
angry, so I murmured, what sounded like `yes' against his chest.

    	Not fooled, he pulled me away from him, his eyes narrowing.  "Did
you?"

    	I sighed in resignation.  "No," I continued before he could
protest.  "But an EMT looked me over and said I was fine, just bruised."

     	"But-"

    	"I'm fine," I said, cutting him off.  "If it makes you feel better,
I'll go to the hospital in the morning, but right now all I want to do is
take a shower."

    	He turned me towards the stairs, leading me to the bedroom.  He
left me standing in the doorway as he went into the bathroom and started
the shower.

    	"I'll get you a towel," he said, walking about of the room.  He
voice had sounded cold, harsh.  He was pulling away from me and I didn't
know why.  Suddenly cold, I hugged myself

    	I still had my arms wrapped around myself when he came back.  I
offered no resistance when he tugged at my jacket.  He pulled off my
t-shirt, and then moaned when he saw my stomach.  I looked down, seeing the
black, blue, purple, and orange mess that was my ribs.

    	I winced.  "It's ok, the seatbelt did it."  I tried to smile.
"Look on the bright side, if I hadn't been wearing them I would have flew
through my windshield."

    	He just continued to stare, his face white as if he was nauseated.
He dropped the towels onto the bed.  "Shower's ready, take as long as you
want."  With that he left.

    	I stood, shocked, not sure what had just happened.

    	I climbed into the shower, and swore when the water touched my open
cuts, burning my skin like fire.  As the discomfort cooled, I began to
wonder if I shouldn't have come here.



~ ~ ~ ~ ~~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~


Gabriel's POV


    	He could have died.  He could have died; and I would have been
helpless to stop it.  How does a person face the reality of the mortality
of the man he loves?  That if he had died I would have died with him?

    	I poured myself a scotch, the liquor spilling slightly because of
my shaking hands.  I gulped it down, enjoying the burning sensation it
caused in back of my throat.

    	I wanted nothing more than to take him into my arms and make love
to him, proving to myself that he was all right.  I wanted to scream at him
for not calling me immediately, but all I did was sit on my bed, scotch
clenched in my hands as I listening to him in the shower.

    	Tears burned at the back of my eyes but I refused to let them fall.
I knew this would happen.  I knew as soon as I got something good in my
life, something I've been wanting more than air itself, it would be taken
away from me.  I was a curse to everyone I touched, it would be better to
let him leave now, than let him continue to stay.  Because I knew deep down
that the best way to protect him was to push him away.

    	I just didn't know how to do that without killing my soul in the
process.



~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~


Connor's POV


    	I came out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around my waist.
Gabriel was sitting on his bed; he was staring out the window, into his
glass, anywhere but me.  He shifted on the bed, flexing his shoulders, as
if he was uncomfortable.  As if he couldn't wait for me leave.

    	I shut my eyes, tried to arrange my thoughts, steady my emotion,
calm my suddenly unsteady heart.

    	I ventured another glance at Gabriel.  His head was bent.  He
looked tense and worried and downright miserable.

    	"You finished?"  He asked.  His voice was gruff.  His eyes lifted,
locked just briefly with mine.  I tried to guess what he was thinking, but
couldn't.  His eyes slid too quickly away.

    	"Yes." I said.  "Thank You."

    	I felt almost as if I was speaking a foreign language, as if I had
to say everything very carefully or I would commit some grievous error.

    	"Gabriel, is something wrong?"  I asked, reaching out to touch his
hair, only to have him shift his head slightly, away from my touch.

    	"Everything's fine, I'll get you something to wear."  He walked
into the closet, bringing back with him a t-shirt and sweatpants.

    	When I began to unwrap my towel, he said.  "I'm going to take a
shower."

    	I sat on the bed dejected, I couldn't put on these clothes, my ribs
were still burning with pain from my taking off my other clothes in the
first place.

    	He came out of the bathroom fifteen minutes later, freshly showered
but wearing sweatpants similar to the ones he had given me.

    	He stood in the doorway, his hands in his pockets, his expression
remote, as if he were deliberately distancing himself from me.

    	As if he didn't care.

    	And I remembered the boy he had been, when he visited us on
holidays.

    	I remembered the stoic indifference, the strong jaw, the stubborn,
chin, the firm, hard set of his mouth.  As if he hadn't a care that he was
left out, that his mother bought me presents for Christmas, instead of him.

    	Then I remembered that I'd looked into his eyes and saw the truth.

    	I looked into them now.  They were dark as night and deep as the
sea, and they spoke to me of hopes and fears, wants and needs that I wasn't
sure I saw or only imagined.

    	Nor was I sure if they were Gabriel's hopes and needs or simply a
reflection of my own.

    	I knew, though, that to not say anything would be like saying
goodbye.  He would put me to bed, then in the morning shake my hand, maybe
even brush his lips across my cheek.  But then he would turn and walk away.
And I would see no more of Gabriel Greywolf.

    	It took all the strength I had to say, "Do you want me to leave?"

	His gaze snapped to mine and for a moment I saw blind panic in
those green depths before they glossed over again.

    	"Of course not, I invited you stay, so stay."  He walked towards
the door.  "I'll sleep in the guest room."

    	I felt like I had been slapped.  I couldn't move, couldn't think,
and didn't want to see past my own pain or rejection to find the reason
behind his attitude.  He had been so loving earlier, so gentle, and before
he seemed genuinely concerned about me.

    	He didn't want me here he made that pretty clear.  I went back into
the bathroom and pulled on my dirty, bloody clothes not wanting to put on
his because I knew his scent still lingered on them.

    	I painstakingly made my way down the stairs, ignoring the pain in
my ribs and my weak screaming heart that was begging me to stay.

    	I had just tugged open the door when his hands covered mine,
slamming it shut.  He stood quietly for several minutes, just breathing on
my neck.  I tried to open the door again, but his hands stayed firmly on
mine enabling me to move.

	"Don't leave me."

	I dropped my head against the door, defeated, knowing I couldn't
leave when there was so much anguish in his voice.  "What do you want from
me Gabriel?  I'm tired, I'm scared, I could have died today, and I can't
handle this right now.  I came here because you make me feel safe but if
you don't want me here, I'll leave."

	"No."

	He kissed the back of my head and I flinched, my anger suddenly
igniting.  "Dammit! Gabriel, I've had it with all this craziness, you want
me, then you don't, you love me, then you're cold.  Make up your FUCKING
mind."

	"I want you."

	A scream of aggravation bubbled through me, as I whirled to face
him.  "No! NO! NO! You don't get to say that and make everything all better
again, I came here needing you and you treat me like a stranger.  What
happens next time Gabriel? When something goes wrong, are you going to
freeze up then too? Better tell me now so I'll learn not to count on you."

	"I'm scared."

	He said those so softly I could barely hear them through my tirade.

	"What?"

	His face came so close to mine I could see the chips of black in
his emerald eyes.  "You are mine.  Every bit of you.  Mine! Do you
understand me?"

	I stared at him as my body began to tremble.

	"What happens to you, happens to me," he told me.  "How do you
think I feel to know you could have died without me knowing?"

	"But I'm Ok."

	"That's not the point Dammit!"  He said, between clenched teeth.
"The point is it could have happened and I would have died too, don't you
know that?"  He brushed his lips against mine.  "People I love leave me
Connor, I don't want you to be one of them.  I couldn't survive it."

	"Shh, Shh," I murmured, placing my aching forehead against his.
"You won't lose me, I promise."

	His lips searched for mine desperately, kissing me with all the
hungry and anxiety he couldn't fully express.  I leaned into him, losing
myself in the moment, in sheer pleasure of being with him.


~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~


    	"Ow! Hey, that hurts! Ow!"

    	"You big baby," Gabriel dabbed the broken skin around my eye with
an antiseptic cloth as I sat on the edge of his bed.  "It doesn't hurt that
bad."

    	"Says you." I muttered, wincing when he lifted up my shirt.
Gabriel rummaged through his medicine kit, finding a bandage for my ribs.

    	"This might hurt."  He said, as he started the process, when he was
done I was sweating badly from the pain, but tried to keep it in because I
knew how much he hated to hurt me.

    	"Is your car totaled?"

    	"Pretty much," I said, my left eye was beginning to swell shut, so
I squinted at him from my right.  "But my insurance should cover it."

    	"Do have any idea why your brakes failed?"

    	"Nah, I take pretty good care of it, but I guess it was one of
those fluke things."  I glanced at myself in the mirror.  "I'm going to
have a black eye for weeks."

    	"Yeah."  He said, as he scanned the eye, already turning every
color in the rainbow.  He picked up my hands, examining my skinned
knuckles.

    	"OW!"  I yelled when he began dabbing my cuts with more antiseptic.

    	"Just be quiet."  To my sorrow, he didn't show one ounce of
sympathy for my painful condition.  "And if you're a good boy and don't
cry, I'll give you a lollipop," he crooned.

    	"I don't like to suck on lollipops."  I said, impishly.  "I would
rather suck on you coc-"

    	"Behave."

    	I pouted for a minute.  "If you want to make it better, try a
kiss."

    	Gabriel stepped back and looked me over.  I knew my lower lip was
rapidly turning a deep shade of purple.  "I don't think you want anything
to touch that lip."

    	I lightly tapped my chin.  "Maybe here?"

    	He bent down and brushed his lips across my chin.  "Better?"  He
breathed against my skin.

    	"Some.  Maybe you could try here, too."  I tapped my cheek.

    	He complied.

    	"And here?"  I looked at him hopefully as I touched my forehead.

    	He marked the exact spot with his tongue.  My breathing was turning
harder with each gentle caress.  "Now where else are you convinced it
hurts?"

    	"Well, I know where it hurts, but I don't think you'd believe me."

    	Gabriel's eyes lowered to my lap.  "Oh, I think I'd believe you."
He shifted his hands through my hair.  "But you're hurt, and I want you to
rest."

    	I tried to grumble protests but I knew he was right, my body was
relaxing and the adrenaline I was using to get through earlier, seemed to
have dissipated.  So I didn't complain when he pulled my jeans off and
tucked me into bed.  When he slid in beside me, he lay there seemly not
sure if he would hurt me if he held me through the night.

    	I solved his dilemma by rolling onto his chest, tucking my head
under his chin, after giving a sigh of contentment I allowed myself to
finally drift off to sleep.  I heard him say, "You haven't changed." before
I blanked out.


To be Continued....