Title: Out of Nowhere
Summary: What happens after "Nowhere to Run."
Spoilers: Not a single one.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: He belongs to Mutant Enemy, Fox, WB, and anyone else I forgot. She belongs to me. The first batch of lyrics belongs to REM. The second and third belong to Van Morrison.
Distribution: JoJo, if you want to keep on archiving this series, go for it. Otherwise, please ask.
Feedback: Yes, please. I'm begging here. This series, unlike everything else on my page, is not being sent to any lists, so this is the only place people are seeing it. I have found I have no will to write unless I get feedback. Just click here to send me mail and tell me what you think.

 

 

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Just outside of Portland, the car broke down.

 

It was late in the day. Evening, actually. After nearly two weeks of driving all day, every day, the car just rolled to a stop. And then refused to start. The hazard lights wouldn't even work. So we pushed it to the side of the road and called a tow truck. At that moment, I sent a silent prayer of thanks to whatever forces out there had inspired me to join AAA and bring a cellular phone on the trip. Planning and forethought had never been high on my list of attributes.

 

Nor had much of anything else.

 

So we were stuck on the side of the road until a tow truck arrived. It was dark -- so dark that we had to put out road flares so the tow truck could find us -- so we couldn't even read or write or play cards. Well, okay, solitaire. We could talk to each other, though. But, of course, we didn't. She pulled out the small portable cd player and speakers she had brought along and set it up on the hood of the car. She wanted to dance. I had one of those big lantern flashlights, so I put that on the hood next to the cd player, giving her a spotlight. And sat there, watching her move in the light of the lantern.

** This one goes out to the one I love
** This one goes out to the one I left behind
** A simple prop to occupy my time
** This one goes out to the one I love

I had never realized what a sad, lonely song that was until that moment. I don't think I had ever really listened to the words. But I was still jealous of the singer. At least he had someone to think of that way. Someone who might feel the same way about him.

 

The music continued, one melancholy melody after another. She just kept drifting along to the music, shadows dancing around her. Then a song -- not sad or lonely like the rest -- I hadn't heard in years came on.

** Well, it's a marvelous night for a Moondance
** With the stars up above in your eyes
** A fantabulous night to make romance
** 'Neath the cover of October skies

I just sat there, watching her. The words were just a blur against her motions. I'm not sure what possessed me to move off the car, but I suddenly realized I was standing in front of her, holding out my arms. And without a word, she stepped into my arms, continuing to dance and sway against my body.

** Well, I wanna make love to you tonight
** I can't wait 'til the morning has come
** And I know that the time is just right
** And straight into my arms you will run
** And when you come my heart will be waiting
** To make sure that you're never alone
** There and then all my dreams will come true, dear
** There and then I will make you my own

 

And that was when the tow truck arrived. Spell broken and reality sinking back in, we stepped apart. After the car was secured to the truck, we silently climbed into the cab. The driver dropped us off at a service station conveniently located a block from a motel. We had somehow mastered the art of agreeing about things like where to go to eat or checking into motels without speaking. At least to each other. It scared me more than a little -- how was I ever going to make up for the hell I put her through if we never spoke? -- but also made me feel a bit more comfortable about things. We trusted each other, at least as far as things like food and lodging went. It gave me hope.

 

The next day, the mechanic at the garage told me the not-so-bad news. The car needed a new alternator. On the down side, this meant that we were stuck there for at least a day while it was repaired. On the up side, it was easily fixed. Since the car was out of commission, we rented another. As long as we were stuck in Portland, we might as well make the best of it. We discovered it was the weekend when we happened upon a street fair aptly called Saturday Market. It was located under a bridge, naturally making me remember the song by the Red Hot Chili Peppers. And I actually felt a bit jealous of the guy who wrote it. Sure, drug addiction is hell, but at least there's a means of treating it. There's no such thing for just losing your humanity. Glancing at the booths, I expected a quaint country fair-type thing, with crafts made out of Popsicle sticks and yarn. Instead, the offerings were on the upscale and sophisticated -- if hippified -- side. Wooden bowls, candles, incense, tie-dyed and batik clothing, paper, jams, soap, photographs. You name it. Between the booths and the people, the place was packed. She was pushed along in the crowd, almost out of my sight. I was afraid we were going to get separated in the crush, so I caught her hand. She froze. I felt my heart sink. And then it lifted. Out of nowhere, it hit me. I had overstepped a boundary, and she was upset. And that was the most amazing thing I had ever felt. I realized I cared about what she thought of me. And that she actually had some sort of feeling about me.

 

I'm not sure if anyone else can understand how wonderful that revelation was. Anyone who had not spent years carefully locking away any and all feelings, that is. And making sure that anyone allowed close did the same as well. And it's scary, too. You spend all this time and energy blocking that stuff until it's automatic. After a while, you forget how to deal with it once the block stops working. Kind of like Mork in that one episode where all of his emotions just exploded one day. But he had Mindy to pull him through and regain his sanity. Such as it was.

 

Anyway, she froze. She stared at our hands joined together, arms extended between us, as if they were some sort of puzzle she had to solve before moving. Or a snake preparing to bite her.

 

And then she stepped back to my side. Lifted our hands and kissed the back of mine before lowering them to swing between us while we walked side by side.

 

After a few minutes, we encountered a steel drum band, playing next to a fountain. We stopped to listen.

 

That's when my brain overloaded. There wasn't enough room to stand side by side, so she had to stand in front of me. To do so, she had to drop my hand. For some reason, a little voice in my head told me to wrap my arms around her waist. So I did. And then it told me to smell her hair. Lavender. She sighed and leaned back against me. But not a sad, resigned sigh. More like relief. And she folded her arms in front of her. Wrapping them against mine, pressing all four limbs tightly against her. Head tilted back and to the side against my shoulder. I had a sudden flashback. A perfect pose for me if I happened to be a vampire. I had always wondered what it would be like -- to have that tender flesh exposed so willingly and thoughtlessly and to take advantage of that fact. Gently, carefully, I lowered my lips to her neck, then slowly brushed them against the spot just behind her ear, carefully touching my tongue to her skin, lapping up a tiny bit of sweat.

 

She shuddered. Pulled my arms away from her waist. And turned around to embrace me, leaning her head against my shoulder, just like she did when we were dancing the night before. That's when my tears started again. "I'm sorry."

 

"For what?" Bewilderment, as if she really didn't know what I was talking about. But I was begging, and I needed to get everything out.

 

"Everything." My arms tightened around her, making sure she wasn't going to run away. At least not without one heck of a struggle. "For your cousin, for asking you to leave the department, for every time I wasn't with you. For not caring. For not caring that *you* didn't care. For not knowing you. For not letting you know me. For dragging you off on this wild goose chase when I don't even know what I'm looking for."

 

A soft voice broke into my babbling. "I already forgave you." I pulled back so I could see her face. Try to figure out what she was talking about. "Do you think I would be here if I hadn't?" Honestly, I hadn't figured out why she had joined me. Then she leaned up and rested her lips on that spot behind my ear and tapped her tongue against my skin, just as I had done so to her. And I felt it all the way from the top of my scalp to my toes. I knew why she had shuddered. There is apparently a neat little nerve system that originates behind your ears and radiates over your entire body, like an extra layer just under the surface of your skin. And when her lips touched me there, that whole network just seized up.

 

I was definitely going to have to remember that spot for future reference.

 

If I ever had a chance to use that information, that is.

 

So now I have done something I had never done before: apologize and ask for forgiveness. And to my utter disbelief, I had been granted it before I got myself together enough to even consider that it might happen.

 

Slowly, we realized the band had stopped playing and that the crowd was breaking up. Time to continue on our meandering. I let her take control and pull me along.

 

And as she led me away, I thought I heard her say, "I just hope you can forgive me, too."

 

 

~~~ the end ~~~

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