"But I was right to honor you,
And men who understand will agree."

"Antigone," Translation by Richard Emil Braun, Lines 1057-1058. Used without permission.
 

BYERS:

I knew I was tired and sore, but I wanted to go to bed anyway.

Observe that I did not employ the term 'sleep.'

There will be sleep-we absolutely need it-but not yet.

Much of the house remains in disarray, but the bedroom is a warm, comfortable haven of peace and order. Yes, we splurged on the Italian 400-thread count sheets (and for a California King, we're not talking chump change here), and the gray goosedown comforter, and the numerous pillows-some in foam, some in down, some in polyfill. It's not as if one has the same requirements every night.

The bedding ended up costing more than the bed, and it was worth every penny. I can feel the coolness of the silky cotton on my back, and it makes a wonderful accompaniment to the warm, satiny feel of Juliet's skin.

In the soft lighting of the room-we found two antique lamps that I rewired, and they are perfect-Juliet's eyes are large and dark, her skin slightly flushed, her lips moist and parted.

No man, breathing or otherwise, could hope to resist.

Me less than any other.

We've been living together for quite some time now, but now it really feels like home. This is the home we bought together, will live in together, will pay for together, and where we will raise a family together.

Ours.

Partnership is such a strange phenomenon. It's almost as if after a time, the principals only become a subunit of it; it's as though something larger, standing apart but still deeply integrated, has taken hold. A strange Venn diagram, where the parties join and intersect, where there is still differentiation, and where it takes on a unique form of its own.

When we make love, it's as if, it is both her and me, but something else as well.

And to think I could have lost this by being consumed by fear and guilt.

I try to keep my own counsel, but every now and then, I am grateful to be surrounded by maniacs who, when necessary, will pound some sense into me.

Something else. And I hope, someone else.

In my East Coast WASP Episcopalian prep-school upbringing, the proper thing to do would be to at least wait until the wedding night to abandon all precautions, to at least give the image of propriety. In spite of some of my activities, I do respect law and custom.

I've also learned to respect my heart, and to listen to it. And my heart says, that's not even a relevant consideration here.

I wonder if she's conceived yet.

Sometimes when I look at her, she just looks...different. It's not something I can put my finger on. But there's a richness, a radiance there, that even Juliet has not displayed before-and she is among the most luminescent of women.

Touching her body, she feels subtly different. To look at her, there is probably nothing altered, at least right now. Even if she has conceived a child, it will take a while before even the small indicators are present.

I wince momentarily, for some reason thinking guiltily of the child that Susanne had conceived...that I was never aware of. Until it was too late.

I ache for that child, even if it was never more than a clump of cells.

She is unusually responsive-small, featherlike touches seem to be sufficient to make her gasp for breath.

I want to hear this more. I listen to her whisper my name, and it lands on my senses like soft air and warm water and gentle light.

I kiss the dark areola surrounding each nipple, still not giving any indication that there will be a child to latch to them, but her response to my gesture is extreme and intense. Her cries push me to further arousal, and I find that I need to restrain myself from spilling myself too rapidly.

I want to save that, for inside of her.

Her own hypersensitivity seems to have heightened mine. Every gentle brush of her fingers and her lips seem to activate every nerve like small, pleasant shocks, growing in intensity. Kisses deepen, breath mingles.

Soon she begins her small whine for me to enter her, and I do, gently.

I cannot stay gentle for long. Soon she has overpowered me with her senses and thus my own, and our hips bind, pressure increasing, a delightful and magical anticipation forming in the pit of my belly and begging for release, all the while desiring to last.

I cry out her name, and release myself into her, everything that is me.

We gaze at each other for a time afterwards, breathing slowing, normalizing, light sheen of perspiration evaporating into the soft night air and replaced with warm, slow embraces and the gentle slide into sleep.

To think I almost missed this.

I shudder.

But tonight, it's the only thing that makes me shudder.

Tonight, there's all that I hoped for.

I'm home.
 

LANGLY:

We haven't played this song since our wedding. I picked it out. I think it shocked the shit out of Ally, who didn't know I had a schmoop streak in me.

Wasn't sure myself, not for a long time.

She's so tiny, and she feels so awesome in my arms. Even with no one around, well, unless you count the kiddies, and they're asleep or out, she's still kind of shy about this, and she presses her face against my chest.

I tip her chin back. I wanna see her face. I do it, and she blushes a little-swear to God, she was flaming red while we danced at Mitch's-but she went with it.

At moments like this, I keep wondering why we get times when we're just at each other's throats. And it'll probably happen again. We're both kind of stubborn about stuff.

But it's not always like that. Fact is, it's not usually like that. She's pretty damn understanding to me. Really takes a lot to push her. I'm lucky that way.

Course, once you push her, you're screwed...treat it like a hotel fire, stay low, don't use the elevators, find the nearest emergency exit and get back at least a thousand feet.

I got to learn not to push her...and she's gotta tell me before I do.

Let's face it, communication's never been our strong suit.

Which is why, when we were at Mitch's tonight, it struck me: we don't slow dance enough.

We got to make a point to do this all the time.

Having her pressed up against me, a big smile on her pretty face, her cheeks all rosy, I come to the conclusion...

I want her.

I sort of wink at her, and she giggles, and she blushes harder. Yep, she knows.

Maybe we're doing better on the communication thing, after all.
 

Being with her, it's magical. Nothing getting in the way-no kids, no jobs, no conspiracy theories, none of that. No clothes, for that matter.

And it's weird. Tonight no liquor.

I'm trying to think...we ever done it sober?

I mean, we're not always (even usually!) totally wasted when we do it...but we usually have a couple beers in our system, anyway.

Ally's a little more shy when she's had nothing to drink, but she gets over it, and man, the things she can do to me...

God, she's beautiful.

And she tells me I am, and I'm sort of embarrassed, but I don't mind.

She hits all the good places...and for some reason tonight, everything's like twice magnified. At least.

I want her. And I tell her I want her, and she spreads her legs till her hips are wide open for me, and I'm so there...

OH GOD. I never came so powerful in my life, I'm just about screaming when I do, and I'm not a screamer in bed. Really, I'm not. That's Junior's thing (and yes, I've heard him). Dude could wake the dead when he gets off.

I think tonight they put us side by side, I might win.

Ally's feeling it too, she's got her eyes all big and dark and she begs for me, I kiss her in every place I can think of and feel, and man, when it happens for her, it's like the heavens just fell into bed with us.

We got to try this again. Real soon.
 

MICHAEL:

God, I just want to go shout it to the universe!

I'm gonna marry Kelly...I want everyone to know!

She's looking actually a little sad right now.

"Hey, what's wrong?" We're watching 'Now, Voyager', and yep, it's sappy.

Dad's kind of movie...and seems like, at odd moments, mine.

"I was just thinking...I'll never be able to tell my mom I'm engaged," she says in a sad little voice.

I don't know...would her mom be happy?

I don't think so. I don't think her mom would say anything except like, well, maybe now you'll do something practical with your life...

Doesn't matter what I think, though. She's Kelly's mom...and it is sort of sad. Kelly can't call her and tell her, guess what, I'm getting married. I mean, her mom never much cared for me. She probably blamed me for taking Kelly away, which I really didn't, but hey, I don't think the lady could think straight.

Forget thinking straight. How about thinking, period.

No, I'm sorry, I don't miss Betsy Martin. I think she was a lousy mom. She was definitely a drunk and a slut.

But for Kelly, it's like, she's still Mom, and she's not there.

And even though Tracy was like completely slow on the uptake, she always took real good care of Tracy, tried to, she loved her little sister.

Not like how Les probably thinks about me.

Which reminds me, I got to call Mom real soon, ask her about Les and Pam. I mean, I think Mom should just let Pam come and be cool with it. Not that I thought much of Pam-I thought she was kind of a bimbo and all, and I still think Les can be such a bitch, but she's my sister, and I should probably do it.

It's so weird, thinking like after all this time, I'm Mom's golden child. I mean, Les was always it. Always did what she was told, studied hard, did everything she was supposed to.

And then she discovered she liked women.

Hey, I'm sorry, I don't think that's a choice you make, I mean, how I feel about girls, I didn't pick that out. Just sort of smacked me in the butt one day when I turned like 13, and then all I could think about was girls.

I read somewhere on line that men think about sex as often as they breathe.

I think they underestimated there. I think I don't breathe quite as much as I think about sex.

Should I tell Mom?

I mean, I want to. I'm not discriminating right now. I wanna tell everyone everywhere. I'm just about to burst. I damn near died at dinner not being able to tell Les.

Funny thing is, I think Les would've been happy for us. I do. She thinks Kelly's okay. And Kelly doesn't hate her. For Les, that's pretty good.

But I have to tell Dad first. I really do. I mean, he'll be like so hurt if I don't tell him first...I just wish he was stronger right now.

Not like I think he'd be happy for us or anything. I'd probably first get the lecture on how I'm too young and don't have it together and she's too young and has way too much school. Then, after he figured out he wasn't changing my mind, then I'd get the responsibility and marriage is tough lecture.

Hey, I know it's not a piece of cake. I get to watch a lot of people up close and personal try and do it. Ally and Langly, they like love each other so much they'd die for each other, but doesn't keep them from having troubles. Same with Dr. Scully and Mulder. He'd like move the planets to a new orbit to make her happy, but doesn't mean they always get it right. And Juliet and the prof? They get into it, too. And it sure as hell took him long enough. Dad says this is his second time around, and I know the first one ended real bad, with the lady getting killed. That really sucks. I bet he's getting nervous about the upcoming wedding.

But as nasty as it gets for these guys, it's like, they hang in there. Maybe that's it. You just hang with it. And work like hell while you hang with it. I mean, I'm not sure, but seems to work for them.

I used to kind of think that someday, I'd just know what I wanted, it'd hit me like a ton of bricks, I'd know, that'd be that.

Maybe I'm traveling in the wrong circles, but seems to me like it's more just a matter of keeping at it. Not very glamorous, but hey, keeps things moving forward. I keep thinking, if I just keep at it in school, I'll hit on something I like, something I can sink my teeth into (the 28 I have left, anyway!), and then I'll just have to keep plugging at that.

I think I wanna marry Kelly because I can see myself keeping at it with her. Not real romantic-although I sure as hell feel THAT-but I can see myself sort of just plugging away at it, keeping it going when it's not all that much fun.

Sometimes just getting through the day feels like victory.

But that's okay. Kelly's there at the end of the day. Makes it worth it.

With Dad being so sick, it's been like, just hanging on was something of an accomplishment. Never thought about it, but hey, I haven't fallen apart, not totally anyway. I've got a 96 average in calc, a 95 in chem, and even in bio, where I'm kind of weak, I got my average up to 80.

Not good enough. I'm gonna have to start doing better on quizzes and I'm really gonna have to nail the labs and midterms.

It's weird, I always thought I'd hate bio. I did hate it the first week. I only hung on because I thought it'd be real chickenshit to wimp out.

But like I've been in the class three weeks now, and I'm doing better, and I actually got the lab down real good-hey, I actually get respect from my lab partners-and Dr. J keeps telling me I can do it real good.

And I kind of like it now. It's interesting, anyway.

I don't know that I like it enough to do another class in it, but we'll see. Kelly says she thinks I'm doing great, better than she did when she started, and she ended up getting an A.

Now this is gonna sound real sleazy, because I love Kel and all, and I'm glad she does good, but something in me, it's like, I have to do at least as good as her.

That's so bad. Shouldn't be about competition...but hey, it's not like it doesn't exist in the real world. You think Dr. Scully and that fuckrag she calls her husband don't compete? Get real. I'd say keeps them going. It's almost like if they didn't, they wouldn't know what to do.

Ally and Langly, they don't quite compete the same way, but it's like, they're always challenging the other one, too. Like see if you can change my mind. See if my ideas stand up. Almost like they're each other's reality check.

So maybe it's not so bad that Kelly and me, we've always got this thing going where we try to always do better, because then we try real hard, and we do a good job.

Right now, though, I don't wanna compete with her about anything.

She is so cute, and she looks kind of bummed.

Maybe I can do something husbandly and cheer her up.

I could certainly try.
 

I'm glad Dad's coming home, but know something? I'm gonna miss sharing my bed with Kelly. And me in hers. I don't think I'll be staying out much for a little while, anyway. I think Dad's gonna need help, and Martha can't be here 24/7.

I want this to be good for, good enough so she doesn't feel sad anymore. I do all the things I know she likes, I try to be super tender with her, and pretty soon, she's not looking sad, she's smiling. And she looks at me...I can't quite describe the look, but like I watch people in love, and you know what?

We look at each other the same way.

I can't look at her enough, I can't hug her enough, she has her whole body against me and I just want more. I can't get enough skin on me.

She's so wet. I slip my fingers in her, she's like she just moans so happy. I love the slippery feel of her, her damp curls, the heat between her thighs.

I go for her tits. They're so rock hard, and they go from this pinky-beige to like the color of raspberries when she's hot. I only wish I had two mouths at times like this. I can't decide which one to suck on first. I tongue one, and roll the other gently between my thumb and forefinger. She cries out.

I move down to her thighs, I want to taste her. I can make her feel good, and this makes me feel real good.

She places a condom on me, but she's going real slow, she's teasing me with it.

Tease me more, Kelly.

And the tease continues. I'm gonna get in her...real, real slow.

We're both moaning and giggling the same time.

Sounds silly...and it is.

And it's great.

Explosion. Blue and purple and gold, my head, I can barely hear...all I can hear is my name and hers...our voices go over each others, and we're screaming.

We're gonna have to keep celebrating our engagement. This is just too much fun.
 

ALLY:

I hold him close. He's slipped into his soft sleeping noises, the soothing sounds that calm me in the night. I snuggle into his chest, and listen to a slow, steady heartbeat, contrasted with the fierce intensity both of ours were pounding with not all that long ago.

He is beautiful. The wispy, flyaway hair is soft and silky, tumbling over his face and into mine. His skin is so soft, very warm, slightly damp. The lips curve into the tiniest of smiles.

I wrap my body around him, and he senses I'm there.

It hasn't been so long...but it feels as though it's been an eternity since we were cuddled like this, breathing each other, warmth sinking far down into the soul, deep beneath the skin.

This seems to be the way our lives work-one step up, two steps back.

Today was definitely one step up. And I like this direction.

I sink into sleep tucked in his arms, and for once, I feel as if I know where I'm going.

**********************************************************************

MARTHA:

This is hell. I can't wait for tomorrow, and in the meantime, I have an entire shift to work.

Mel is being released tomorrow. The idea of this fills me with both anxiety and delight. I'll still have to perform a number of nursing functions with him-this is why I was taken on in the first place-but I'm hoping that maybe those touches can go beyond the medical and into the personal.

I hope he'll still let me sponge-bathe him.

And give him back rubs. And tuck him in bed.

And...

And...

It's going to be a long night.
 

FROHIKE:

Why do I get the feeling that I'm the only person in the world not having sex tonight?

END OF PART 49