Sara - Fanfic

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By Judith Bura June 2001 (there are some racy bits in this piece so reader be warned)

"Stuck inside these four walls. Serving time forever. Never seeing no one nice again, like you, Mama, you Mama. If I ever get out of here, gonna give it all away…" I hate to think how I got here, but there just might be a clue in it all, somewhere. I keep thinking it might have been a setup, or, worse, a betrayal. I know Charles is a devout liar, but I don't believe he lied to me. It must just be the drugs they gave me. The cavalry will be here soon. I know it. It won't be long now. I tried to drift off to sleep again; hoping not to face the four walls with no window and only a locked door that had been my lightless world for the past few days? Hours? Weeks? I realized I had no idea how long it had been. How did I get to this point?

________

I like to sit sideways in the hammock with my legs hanging down so I can swing, and that is what I was doing the next time I heard him speak his perfectly enunciated consonants. I was just swinging and watching the treetops shinning green gold in the late rays of the day. The sun had committed itself to setting, but hadn't quite managed to get to it yet. The coolish breeze was scented with lilacs, and the dogs were wandering around the yard occasionally trying to interest me in tossing them a tennis ball. That's when Atilla began growling softly and came over to his official station between my feet. Atilla doesn't growl softly; he barks loudly and with great gusto.

"Tell your family you are going for a walk; it's time we talked" I hoisted myself out of the hammock and called to the dogs, "Come, Buddy, 'Till, lets go in." I headed toward the back steps, Atilla practically attached to me and Buddy close behind.

"Hey, guys, I'm going for a short walk; see if I can walk off some of that dinner."

"Are the dogs in and do you know if the girls are done their homework?" my husband, Greg, asked from the couch, his eyes never moving from the basketball game on the television.

"Dogs are in, Elaine is out with one of the Laurens and Zoe is on the phone. They both assure me that they have done their homework. Anything else you need before I go?"

"Could you bring me up a couple of Beers, the Miller not the Moosehead?"

"Yeah, OK…" I headed downstairs the basement and returned with the beer. "Do you want one now?"

"Put one in the fridge and could you open one for me?"

I popped the top and handed him one then I put the other one in the refrigerator, and announced, "I put it next to the milk." since Greg has the male gene for refrigerator blindness.

As I started up the street Elaine yelled after me, "Mom, hey Mom, where are you going?"

"Just taking a walk, like I usually do after dinner."

"Can I come? Did you tell Zoe I need to use the phone at 7:30?"

"Maybe you should tell her yourself. Listen you and she need to work out this phone thing yourselves. Now tonight I want to walk by myself. How about you come with me tomorrow." I turned the corner and was finally alone with my thoughts. I could only hope Charles was going to explain his last appearance in the parking lot behind my office.

As I was heading up the hill on Grant Avenue a dark green SUV with tinted windows slowed beside me. The window eased down and Charles motioned for me to get in beside him. We rode in silence until he said, "Still don't talk much?"

" No, I talk now, I was just waiting for you to tell me what this is about, and I strongly doubt you'd have been happy with what I wanted to say. "

"Try me."

"OK, what the hell do you mean coming here and telling me my dearest friend has died, and then. Before disappearing without even a hint of an explanation, taking a little extra time from your busy day to insult my hair and by extension my life style."

"You're angry."

"No shit, Sherlock, What gave it away?"

His jaw tightened and he sighed deeply. "You want me to tell you she died quickly and without pain or fear." He looked over at me and said softly. "I can't tell you that. All I can tell you is that she did not die alone. I was with her when she died and I did all I could to prevent it, but I was too late."

He pulled the SUV into the playground parking lot. There was a softball game going on one of the fields and some kids were shooting hoops while others played on the monkey bars.

"Charles, you have to stop with the half truths. You need to tell me what happened to Moira, and what about the children?"

"They were on holiday with the Harrison's in Maui when it happened and they will stay there now. George is godfather to both of them and it just seemed natural for them to remain there. My sources say they are adjusting, and they are well cared for. A group I did some work for killed Moira. They did not seem to understand simple economics." I cocked my head raised an eyebrow at him so he explained. " I supply my unique service for whomever can pay my price. Unfortunately, a rival consortium was willing to pay a higher price and so… let's just say the first group discovered, the hard way that no one is ever really safe. And now I'm afraid it's your turn to learn that lesson, too."

I looked at him without turning my head. "What are you saying?"

"Sara, you are in danger from the same people who killed Moira. One of my colleagues made a small error in the judgment, an error that won't be made again, I dare say. He neglected to note that one of the other offices in your building has ties with those people whom I disappointed. They recognized me, and now they know that Moira was not the only way to get to me."

I had to remind myself to inhale then exhale, although I was sure I understood, perfectly, I made him tell what he meant. His reply was no less alarming than what I imagined. "You and your family are likely to be the next target of those people. It's not that they want me dead; I'm too valuable to them. They just want me back under their control." That made me laugh. Charles, under control? The very idea was ludicrous.

He allowed me to sit and absorb what he had said for a few moments, then when on. "You are the main target. I believe that your family will be safe if we can get you away from here. I have arranged for you to be detailed out your office to a job in Baltimore for a few months. Of course, that will only be on paper. I can take you someplace where I can keep an eye on you personally. One of my people can watch out for your family for awhile until we are sure they won't be bothered."

I sat with my hand to my face, fingers drumming on my temple and stared out the window. "This isn't happening; this can't be happening." I thought.

Charles took hold of my wrist and lowered my hand so I had to look at him. "This is real." Then he reached behind me, placed his hand on my neck and drew me toward him. It was not like I did not know what was next. Maybe I had always wanted him to kiss me, but I had to remember that I was a married woman and I started to struggle to get away. His grip tightened and he put his lips to mine. I clamped my teeth shut determined to remain unresponsive while a voice inside my head protested that this so cliché, and that maybe I should just relax and enjoy it. He reached around me with his other arm and pulled me closer, all the while my internal argument raged on until finally he left off trying as if sensing my turmoil. He leaned back and looked at me with that sideways look he has, while my gonads read me the riot act. "It's going to be all right, really."

"You expect me to run off and leave my children behind just because you say so. My days of blind obedience are far behind me. If I leave, who will get the girls up for school and feed the dogs? Who will keep Greg from getting stressed out and taking out on the girls? Who will cook and clean and chauffeur?"

"And who, Sara, will do all that if you're dead?" he shouted at me." Listen, I can see to it that these things are taken care of, too. After you leave they could win, I don't know, maybe a free housekeeper for a year. Whatever it takes to get you away safely. Or I could have someone look after you and your family and you could take care of them like you have been, but I can't promise that it would be as effective as getting you out of here entirely. You can have a day to think about it. I need your answer by this time tomorrow. You will have to leave on Wednesday at the latest. "

For a while I just sat listening to the swings squeak and the bong of the baseball on the aluminum bats, until I began to sense his impatience. "I just don't get it. I'm not trying to be stupid, here. You can't expect me to be able to decide so quickly. Give me two days to work this out for myself. I could meet you somewhere ready to go if I decide not to stay." He started the engine and drove out of the lot.

"I'll drop you off behind the church, and you can finish your walk. For now don't repeat any routes to and from work or any place you regularly go; always back into parking spaces so you can just pull out if you need to hurry and glance around before you leave the house. Don't ride the elevator with a stranger…this is serious, Sara, stop grinning at me."

"Maybe, I'm just touched by your concern.

As we slowed to a stop behind St Jude's he said "Tuesday, by the train station, and ready to go." I nodded and hopped out, "Charles, one more thing, why an SUV?"

That made him smirk a little, "Maybe I'm going suburban as I mature. Tuesday, 7:00 pm."

As I started toward home all the fears and questions began clamoring for my attention. Could I really trust him? Was it really necessary to leave so Greg and the girls would be safe? How could he get me away and still keep everyone I'm associated with satisfied that I was just "in Baltimore" for a few months? How long would it be before it was safe to come back? And the big question, even if it's all true, and all the details are worked out, how could I leave my children?

It was nearly dark as I walked up to the house. I could see Zoe on the computer and hear the basketball game blaring from the TV in the family room As I entered I noted that Elaine was on the cordless phone and Atilla was at the back door whining to go out, about six feet from where Greg sat with his beer and peanuts. Some things never change. It would have been easy to believe that I really just been out walking but for the anxiety growing in the pit of my stomach. "Elaine, did you have your shower yet?" I asked falling into my familiar routine. "Not yet, as soon as I'm done on the phone, okay?"

"No, Atilla, you can't go out unless I'm with you or you'll bark and we'll get another citation from Animal Control"

"What?" from Greg.

"I was talking to the dog."

"Mom, can you take me to Jess's house, I think I left my contact solution there yesterday?"

"What? Why can't you wait until tomorrow, have her bring it to school. Your mother just walked in the door. You kids are getting very irresponsible, when I was your age… Jarvis shoot the ball, God Damn it. Jeez, rebound, rebound."

"Do we have any white bread? How come we never get white bread anymore?"

"Elaine, you asked for whole wheat, and have you started your shower yet?"

"So can you take me to Jess's or not?"

"Don't you have any solution left in your contact case?"

"I guess so."

"Beer, here."

"Okay, I'm going to put the clothes in the dryer. I'll bring you one when I come up. Did you get the one in the fridge?"

"Uh, huh."

I practically ran down the steps to the laundry room where no one else ever seems to follow me. While transferring damp blue jeans to the dryer, I began to see the logic of leaving the family safely behind. But right behind that thought came a dose of fear that nearly knocked me down. "I can't leave; I just can't." I slammed the dryer door and turned it on then headed into rec room to get another Miller from the beer refrigerator, and brought it up stairs for Greg.

"Oh, I wanted Moosehead this time…no, no this is okay, don't worry about it. Before I forget, I was on the floor doing my back exercises and it is coated with dog hair. Can't you get those children to vacuum now and then?"

"Whatever." I rolled my eyes heavenward.

"Huh?"

"Never mind."

And then it was Monday morning, complete with training and staff meeting so I could not work the files on my desk. I sat with my eyes closed listening to Dottie expounding the virtues of savings bonds as well as the latest computer updates and a few murmurs about how I was asleep. "I am not asleep, just bored senseless," I replied under my breath. At nine o'clock the phone began to ring and the interviews poured in. I took five interviews by lunch and answered the phone 24 times while Rene talked to her plumber and did her nails. I began to wonder, "Does anyone else work here?"

The good thing about Monday is that we usually eat out. The bad thing is that each phase of eating out has to be thoroughly argued before we can put it into action. First, where do we go and have we been there too recently and why does she always get her way? Next, who has to sit next to Elaine, who is left-handed and refuses to sit on the outside seat or next to Zoe, who hates to sit next to Greg? Then should we get an appetizer or try to save room for dessert? Once that is all settled I have to hope nobody brings up a subject that Greg will interpret as pressuring to or critical of him. This Monday had all these elements and more. At one point Greg was in a snit because Zoe was fussing about how Everyone Else had a trampoline so why couldn't we get one and Elaine was pissed because we did not get two orders of potato skins. I almost got up and left but I did not want to walk the four miles home along the highway, so I told them I had put in for a detail to Baltimore.

Well, that shut them up for a few seconds. "I did not want to say anything before because, I doubted it would come through. They almost never pick anyone who can't commute, but it's starting to look like I might get picked. If do, I'd have to leave tomorrow."

Tuesday came and I went to work as usual. Picked Elaine up after track as usual. Made diner as usual and then packed a bag and Greg and the girls took me to the train station. When the cashier handed me my ticket there was a note saying "Get off at the next station." I thanked him and sat down with my family to wait for the train. As I boarded the girls looked positively grim but Greg seemed in good spirits, so I was hopeful that they'd get along. I kissed and hugged them each and then I got on the train and waved good-bye.

As the train crossed the road at Fairview Avenue I swear I saw Charles standing beside one of the cars waiting for the train to pass. He looked alarmed. That was the last thing I saw before I felt a prick in my neck and woke up here in the dark and began singing all the Beatles songs I could remember. I have spent most of the time crouched on the floor in the corner. I can't find my glasses, but there is nothing to see, anyway. "When I was young, oh so much younger than today I never needed anybody's help in any way. Now these days are gone, I'm not so self-assured. My independence seemed to vanish in the haze. Help me if you can; I'm feeling down, hmm, hmm, hmm. Won't you please help me…still I find I've changed my mind hmm open up the door." There was definitely a noise coming from the other side of the door and it crashed open flooding my closet with light. I screamed in spite of myself and was dragged to my feet and pulled roughly done a corridor and out side.

"Run. We haven't much time."

"Charles! Oh, thank God, it's you."

"Run!"

"I can't see where I'm going; they took my glasses."

"Fuck. Alright, hold on to this." He placed the end of his belt in my hand started off running ahead of me, practically dragging me behind. We ran for several minutes through a wooded area. I couldn't help but think, at least I hadn't twisted an ankle like most rescued women on TV do. Then he ran up to a car and opened the door for me.

"Get in," he slammed the door and rushed around to the other side. We peeled away as shots began to pop around us.

I reached out the window and raised them a center finger salute. That made Charles chuckle, "Be careful, you don't want to make them angry."

"Nope, sure as hell wouldn't want to do that. Where are we, anyway? And where are we going? And why aren't they following us?"

"You certainly ask a lot of questions, and such language." He replied in mock horror, "First to the air field, then on to Vegas. I have some business to attend to and, I think you could freshen up. After that we have some decisions to make."

At the airfield we boarded a small company jet, which, blessedly, had a toilet and was stocked with a few hygiene essentials. I had to wait until we were in the air, but I did finally manage to get cleaned up a bit. When I returned to my seat my concern switched from our destination to my family. "How are my kids; do they know anything about what happened to me?"

"They are fine and believe that you have been very busy in Baltimore the past few days. They got your note that you'd call on Saturday, which is tomorrow, and you will call them, from Las Vegas. By the way they wish you could be home to take advantage of the new housekeeper that you won from the Food Network contest you entered."

I stared at him in amazement, "You have no limit to what you can, or will, do, do you?"

"That's why the ladies all love me. It's innate, survival of the species. You all want a man who will stop at nothing to see to it that you are provided with food and shelter. Of course it's not so basic anymore is it? You should rest now. I'll see what can be done about getting you some glasses."

In Vegas I spent some time swimming and sightseeing while Charles attended to whatever business he had. I went to the optometrist and I bought some clothes. That evening at dinner he sat looking at me a moment then asked, "What do you want, really want?"

"Are we talking three wishes here or what? Okay, I want something else. I want a new start in a new place where even the stars are different. I want the body had when I first met you. And, I think, I want you, always have."

"I can be had," he smirked and licked his finger, "As for your other wishes, I have a few ideas. How does Fiji sound? Of course, we'd have to fly commercial most of the way. I don't like flying on commercial airlines. They are not safe. Well, think about it. I have to leave you on your own again, for a while. Oh, and don't worry, you're being looked after."

As he left I almost threw something at him. I practically threw myself at him and he just smirked at me. Arrgh, the man can be infuriating. Maybe it's my body. Victim of gravity and childbirth, I dragged myself to the hotel gym and started climbing Everest on the stair master; I vowed no more popcorn when I watch Bruce Payne movies.

"Scrambled eggs, moist, with ketchup."

"Huh?" I opened my eyes to a yellow and red blur. The covers were being drawn slowly down and I was being drawn into a seated position.

"Your breakfast, Madam." Charles placed the tray on my lap. "I think there is less of you than there was that day in the parking lot. Spending time shut in a closet seems to agree with you."

I tossed a pillow at him, which he successfully ducked and left me to my breakfast. As he closed the door he said we'd be leaving in half an hour so I wolfed down my eggs and showered and packed in record time Three hours later I found myself in a larger private jet staring down at the Pacific Ocean.

"We'll be crossing the Equator soon." He leaned in so close to me that all I could see clearly was his eyes as they looked into mine. "You know there is traditionally a ceremony for a persons first Equator crossing…." He reached up and messed my hair. "You really don't know how beautiful you are do you?"

This time I wasn't going to let him off so easy. This time I took his hand and brought his fingers to my mouth, drawing them in one by one and nibbling the tips as I released them. I started undoing his buttons, first his shirt then my own. Next his pants, his breath came in shallow gasps as I reached in and took hold of him, all the while looking him in those bottomless blue eyes of his. I massaged his penis until it was rigid then removed the rest of my clothes and straddled him.

"You want to sell your soul to the devil?" he murmured.

"Oh, yes."

He lifted me off as though I weighed nothing at all and removed his clothes, "I was feeling over dressed." Then he drew me back to him and stroked my back and thighs as he sucked on my nipples and nibbled the nape of my neck until I was ready to cry out in frustration. He entered me slowly, deliciously making me anticipate. Then he stopped and looked at me again with some thing else in his eyes, waiting, as if for permission, to continue. I reached up to him and stroked his hair, his face. He brought his mouth to mine hard and searching, his rhythm slow and deep until I couldn't hold back. I moaned aloud and raked my nails across his shoulders as his thrusts grew in speed and intensity. We came in unison. It was like it should be, not like with Greg when I pretended to be satisfied just to get him off of me.

Fiji was no less satisfying. Charles had secured a small bure (their word for house, I think.) Although there is no infrastructure for electricity the place had it's own generator so I could keep in touch with my girls and Greg via e-mail. I have no idea how we were connected to the Internet and Charles declined to tell me. Elaine was thrilled because the housekeeper they "won" was teaching her how to cook and Zoe was pleased that Sabrina could help her with her lay up and dribbling. Greg never mentioned Sabrina and I tried not to be too suspicious, after all I wasn't exactly the picture of wifely fidelity. One morning after we had been there for several weeks, I awoke to find Charles sitting on the corner of the bed watching me. He was wearing some frayed khaki shorts that looked like that had once been part of a uniform. That's all he was wearing, just the shorts. His hair had been bleached several shades blonder by the sun and he had tanned to the color of strong tea. I could see the whiteness of his stomach where the sun had not touched it peeking above his waistband. His eyes were bluer than usual through some trick of the reflections of sea and sky, perhaps. I knew then that I was in danger of not just wanting him but loving him. I had to remind myself what a truly dangerous and even evil man he could be. But then he noticed that I was watching him in return and smiled the first genuine smile I had ever seen on his face. He slowly drew the sheet that covered me from my thighs to my shoulders toward him, uncovering the whiteness of my own stomach as well as the triangles of white on my breasts. To my own surprise I did not try to keep the sheet over myself. The weeks away from the stress of work and family had helped me curb my eating and the swimming and walking then running each morning had helped, too. I guess I had started being comfortable with my body and I let him look. He moved up beside me and began to tweak my nipples until they became hard and erect with fingers he moistened by licking. The combination of the warmth from his fingers and the coolness as the breeze hit the moistness was especially pleasurable. I could see that he had been swimming earlier because the white salt outline remained where a drop of ocean water had been on his shoulder. I leaned into him and licked it off while managing to insinuate my hips against his. You know exactly what happened after that. The days began to run together and I spent most of my mornings walking or swimming. Sometimes I would write or draw, but mostly I began to fear that I would not want to leave when the time came to return home. Charles never spoke of his life and seemed to have mastered the Zen art of being here now. I envied him that. We would talk about things that most of the people I know wouldn't understand. Things like how time is a function of gravity and philosophy and poetry and mathematics and music and even an occasional sojourn into chaos theory.

We rarely ate more than the fruit that grew on the trees around the bure or fish that one of the local people brought around every day or so. Even so Charles managed to make some meals into veritable feasts. Damn I always wished I'd meet a man who liked to cook, and when I finally do I'm married and he is an international terrorist…whatever. Late one night after I had gone to bed I heard the alert sound on the computer and wandered into the main room to find him standing naked in front of it. The moonlight showed his white buttocks in sharp contrast to the rest of him and I'd have laughed if it weren't for the expression on his face. He warned me away with his eyes. So I decided it was high time I took that solitary moon light stroll on the beach. When I returned he was gone having left a small caliber gun and a note saying. "I had urgent business to attend to. Maelo will look after you and don't worry. The gun is just for show. By the way Maelo is the man who brings the fish; he works for me in other capacities, too. C."

The doubt that I usually managed to put aside began to play games in my stomach. I did not know what to think. Had I been deluding myself? Had the beach bum, albeit a gourmet beach bum, I had been sharing this house with been returned to the shelf in favor of the more violent and arrogant man? During the month and a half we had lived in Fiji I had seen nothing or the rage and haughtiness the press would have me expect from Charles. He was more of the man that Moira described in her letters than the man the world knew as the "Rane of Terror."

The ocean was an all-pervading entity. Its existence was felt in all things on the island. It was not just a matter of the waves crashing on rocks or lapping in tide pools. The ocean was a taste of salt, a smell of marshes. It was a sense of peace that I could not feel when the ocean was too far away, and the sense of anxiety when the tide brought in the huge black waves that spoke of storms. The ocean was to be loved and feared much like life with Charles.

I did not hear them coming. I heard only the absence of the waves, as though there were a curtain between the ocean and me, so I rolled off my bed and under it, the way I had when I was a child and the crickets stopped. When the crickets stopped it meant my father was home from the graveyard shift. It meant… bad things. Maybe he'd just get drunk. Maybe he'd knock Momma around. Maybe it would be worse. So I hid.

From my hiding place I could hear voices whispering angrily. "I thought Sabrina said she'd be here."

"Keep looking; the guy at the airport said Rane left alone."

"What should I do with the body?"

"I don't give a damn what you do with it; just leave him there; it'll be a great homecoming for Rane."

"Yeah, if Sabrina lets him come home."

"Go check the bedroom on the left; I'll check the kitchen and the loo."

From my hiding place I could hear him coming toward the bed and see his feet when he got close enough. I tried to imagine myself as part of the floor and hoped that it would be enough if he looked under the bed.

"She must have left recently; the bed is still warm."

"Come here. I think have found something"

His footsteps receded and I heard him say, "That ain't nothing but a house key."

I could hear them going through drawers and tearing up the furniture in the main room. Their voices faded slightly, so I guessed they were in Charles' room. I did not let myself think about what they were saying; I only had the time to focus on getting out of there. I couldn't remember where Maelo had put the gun or even how to use it for that matter so that idea was dismissed immediately. I crawled out from under the bed staying in the shadows along the wall. Only a few feet to the sliding door to the outside remained. It had been a warm night so I had not shut it preferring to let the mosquito net hung over my bed keep the bugs away and let in the extra breeze. Finally, I was through the door and so far I had not been seen. You know how when someone says "it's quiet at work today." It gets really busy right after that? Well, I should never have let myself think I was getting away 'cause right then one of them saw me. I heard him shout to the other then heard them both running across my room toward the door. I knew they were in my room because one of then banged his shin on the sea chest at the foot of my bed, something I had done almost daily since I had lived there. I resolved if I made it through the night alive that I would polish the blessed thing. That's when the shooting started.

I remembered something Elaine had read in one of her many "how to" books. If someone is shooting at you, zig zag and stay low. I am here to tell you that it worked. I ran headlong into the lush foliage at top speed. The leaves, which were an inviting green during my orchid hunts, showed that they were also blade sharp. When I couldn't hear my pursuers anymore, I stopped running and climbed the biggest tree I could find. I pressed myself into its shadowy branches and stayed there hugging the trunk until I finally feel asleep. Dawn found me bruised, scratched, filthy and just about covered with spider bites. In addition to that I really needed to go to the bathroom and I was certain I could still hear my pursuers stumbling through the jungle. I stayed as silent and motionless as I could manage until I finally saw them approaching my perch. They had stopped arguing and were determinedly hacking a path through the underbrush. They were so intent on their hacking that they never looked up. They also never saw Charles until he was removing their weapons from their nearly lifeless bodies. Charles did not see me until a bird squawked and flapped away from a nearby branch.

"Sara?"

"Hey, Charles"

"Come down."

"No."

"What do you mean, no?"

"Gee, I thought that was pretty clear."

"Stop being a wise ass and come down."

"No."

"Sara, you come down her this instance!"

"No."

"Sara, why?"

"Which Charles are you? You're all dressed in black again."

"I have no idea what you are talking about. Now are you coming down or will I have to throw rocks at you until you fall out of the damn tree?"

"That's what I meant. Are you the "Rane of Terror" or are you the only person on earth who can get me to eat fish? Where have you been? Who are those men and what did they mean when they said, "Sabrina said she'd be here?"

Charles seated himself on a fallen tree and continued staring up at me for a while. "What do you think would make me leave you here with just Maelo to protect you?"

"You tell me."

"I do not have to take this from you."

"That's right you don't, so why do you?"

He sighed heavily, tossed the stick he'd been fiddling with, and then began a discourse that left me totally at a loss for words. Well, nearly at a loss for words.

"I think you know, but I'll explain this once and then we will speak no more of it, agreed?"

"I supposed, but I reserve the right to decide for sure after I've heard what you have to say."

"Fair enough, I've been back to Virginia to rectify a wrong Sabrina did you and your daughters."

"You left out Greg."

"Intentionally, you see, Greg knew where you've been and why. Sabrina told him. I believe she hoped it would make an ally of him in her crusade to get me away from you. She was right, and she was his mistress no less than three days after you left. Sabrina was…useful. She was a beautiful and for the most part pliable woman. What I had not counted on is that she was also building a terminal resentment and jealousy of my control of the business."

"Do you really think that was the only thing she was jealous of?"

"This is really not your concern."

"Sabrina's little attitude problem nearly got me killed and you say it's none of my business?"

"Would stop interrupting?"

"I'm sorry, please continue"

My tone of voice made him flinch but he did go on, "Sabrina and I were lovers. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say she thought we were. I'd be more inclined to say we had sex. I always knew she wanted more from me, but I have not been provided with the normal complement of human emotion. She understood that but could not accept our relationship for what it was. She was always trying to make something more of it and I was finding it rather tiresome. It was a mistake to make her nursemaid and housekeeper to your family; but I thought she would follow orders as always. I have been away too long."

"May I ask a question?"

"What?"

"The group that you so annoyed, are they still a threat?"

"That is where Sabrina slipped up. She planned to make the attack look like them, but she did not know that the whole group had been taken out by a combined effort of the DEA, NSA, ATF and FBI. Damn it, Sara, will you get out of that tree. I find it beyond believe that I can arrange to have the same government that is trying to put me to death take care of my enemies, and I can not even get one stubborn little mouse out of a freaking tree."

"Charles, you haven't referred to me as mouse since…. That's what this is all about isn't it? You still think you owe me for, uh, you know." For the briefest moment he looked like a lost boy. "I'm coming down now; please don't look at me. I'm filthy and smelly and swollen with spider bites and quite naked." He took off his jacket and tossed it up to me, "Hurry up; we need to workout what to do next."

We stumbled back to the bure together, me leaning on him because my feet were all torn up from my midnight barefoot dash through the jungle and him leaning on me because he had sprained his knee while dragging Maelo's body to the ocean. I could not help but be bemused by the thought that Charles was not invincible, although he certainly did less leaning than I did. After I finished showering, I found him lounging in the sunken hot tub. His hair was damp and curled from the steam and his face was relaxed in serene contemplation of the sea. I stood silently watching as he gazed at the incoming tide. "Sara, are we…friends?" It was a genuine question, not a test. And though he had unnerved me by once again knowing without seeing that I was there, I gave as honest an answer as I could.

"I don't know. We seem bound together in many ways. Whether it is through Moira or by the common threads of our childhoods, I really couldn't say. I care about you. I respect your intellect and I owe you the lives of my family and myself. I even thoroughly enjoy your company when you're not wrapped up in your 'business.' But to say that we are friends, I guess I just hadn't thought of you as any thing but Charles. We're awfully different."

"You are a killer; I have seen the look in your eye, Sara. You can't deny it."

"I am a killer, but I don't kill. If I were an alcoholic, I wouldn't drink."

"Yet you accept it in me."

"Judge not lest ye be judged. I just don't believe it is mine to judge. Maybe it's because I have had only the experience of brutal and self- involved men. Like I said, you are Charles; you are no less a part of life than Mother Teresa." "Don't be absurd."

"OK, poor comparison, but you get my point."

"Stop lurking in the door way and come sit with me."

I crossed the flagstone floor gingerly, trying not to reopen the cuts on the soles of my feet, and seated myself just out of his line of vision. I did not want him to see the scratches and bruises that my half hour shower did nothing to erase. It had become painfully clear why people carry machetes when traveling through the jungle. And he probably wouldn't be thrilled to see that the spider bits had caused my left eye to swell shut.

"That loose gauze dress with the lace up front you bought would probably be the most comfortable thing for you to wear right now. You know, the one you said was meant to be twirled in."

"Damn, how does he do that?" I asked myself for the hundredth time. Without looking at me he had described what I had on. Some how it bothered me to be so predictable. Then out loud I asked, "Is Sabrina dead? Is that how you rectified the wrong? What's been done with Greg?"

"Why do feel the need to pester me with all these questions? I thought we were done with that. If you must know, Sabrina killed herself rather than face me. Greg has agreed to let you file for divorce, if you so desire, and will, no doubt, spend the rest of his life looking over his shoulder to make sure no one is after him." "Last question, do you have any anti-histamines?" my voice nearly failed to squeak out of my constricted throat and the room dimmed to black.

I awoke to the sight of him dressed in a lava lava, peering into my good eye as he held up the lid. "Now there's a sight that would jump start anyone's heart. Um, yes, I'd have to say we are friends. Anyone who saves my life three times is my friend." On the tile beside him were a syringe and a small medicine bottle. "You had something for allergic reactions?"

"Your life would not have needed saving if it weren't for that day in the parking lot."

"Charles, my life needed saving long before that." I replied and he just smiled his small crooked smile, scooped me off the floor and carried me to his bed.

"You'll sleep here tonight." He held up his hand palm facing me as I began to protest. "I want to be certain that you continue breathing."

We had never slept together. I am a very light sleeper and he tends to prowl around at night so it just did not make sense to try. Not that I know, but I doubt that few women ever have spent the night in his bed. It was just not one of the few things he was willing to share, so I was very surprised that he decided I should stay. It is very hard to sleep when someone seems to be staring at you, and I must admit that I finally just pretended to sleep so he would relax. At one point I thought I felt him brush the hair from my face, but I may have been imagining it. The night passed slowly, and I know he wanted to be checking his e-mail or working out or whatever it was he spent his nights on. People say he is a wicked man but he has a capacity for kindness that many would envy. He has no conscience but he does have a strong sense of responsibility. I may have been a special circumstance, but he was there for me when I needed him. That is something I cannot say about many of the "good God fearing" people I have known.

We both knew it was time for me to leave and time for him to do damage control among the ranks of his employees and business associates. So we packed up what little there was of our life together and headed for the airport. Charles thought that we should stay in Honolulu for a while just to be sure I was completely healed from my spider bites. As anxious as I was to get back to the kids and dogs, I guess I really wasn't ready to go back to work so I agreed to delay our return to real life a few more days. Little did I know what he really intended.

As we walked past the wahines with their traditional lei greetings for all the pale and excited vacationers, I began to hear a dog barking a very familiar bark. I turned to Charles, "That sounds like Attila; that is Attila." Standing there by the baggage claim were four children, two of whom I knew, and two dogs. A tall young man who could only be Moira's son Che', who's real name was Charles, was standing with a proprietary hand on my Zoe's shoulder. Next to him were Elaine and Sam who were trying to untangle themselves from the leashes of the two wildly excited dogs.

"Mom! Mr. Crane over here!"

I was surrounded by kids and dogs kisses an hugs snuggles and slobbers. "Mom, did Mr. Crane tell you what we're doing here? He came and sent Sabrina away, seems she was only pretending to be a housekeeper and the contest people were so sorry the sent us here; but Mr. Crane said we should all just live here since you got a job here. Mom how did Mr. Crane know about all that stuff? These are his nephews. That one is Sam and the one with Zoe is named Charles but everyone calls him Che' " "Elaine, take a breath" Mr. Crane, is it, I thought to myself, "Yeah, Mom. Mr. Crane says we can go to the Punahou School like his nephews," this from Zoe who seemed smitten with Che'.

Charles just stood there looking smug. I wasn't sure whether I wanted to hit him or throw my arms around him so I just skipped on to the next subject. "I thought that Hawaii had quarantine rules for dogs."

Again with that smug look, Charles just shrugged and said "Rules? These dogs were born here and I have the paperwork to prove it." We gathered our bags from the carousel; and the boys ushered us to a waiting limo, which took us to what was to be our new home in the Manoa valley. As we exited H1, I looked out the window past Charles profile and saw a double rainbow.

I don't know what happened to Greg although about a year latter I received divorce papers in the mail and a check for half the value of our house. Charles stayed a week then left for parts unknown. No less than once a month an orchid would be delivered to the house and there would be a card signed simply "C." On the back were always a series of numbers that, if I needed to, I could look up page column and line in a particular newspaper and know where he was.

When Zoe married Che', Charles gave away the bride. After that he just stayed. I once overheard Zoe tell Elaine that she thought maybe I "liked" Mr. Crane. And I thought, "You don't know the half of it sweetheart."