Hair Holder

Thankfully making contact with Sarah Jean's hair didn't seem to be enough to fully activate our connection. I really didn't want to experience the situation any more than I did. So, thank goodness for that at least.

When the purging was complete, she moaned and groaned as she resisted my efforts to help her up, choosing to curl up on the bathroom floor instead. Unfortunately being familiar with her general situation, I let her rest there for the moment.

Now that all was mostly quiet in the suite and my mind was functional again, it was easy for me to hear the door unlock and open. I hurried to investigate, finding Ms. Romero in the bedroom, wearing her robe of soft slippery material, and looking a bit put out. “I was unaware that this would be so complicated. You should be naked by now. Do you require help? I can help.”

“That won't be necessary,” I coldly informed her. “Sarah Jean's not feeling very well at the moment.”

Concern appeared on Ms. Romero's face. “She is not?”

“No she's not. She appears to be a bit drunk at the moment. I don't suppose you'd know anything about that.”

She paused, guilt mixing in with the concern on her face. “I just provided her with wine. I was just trying to help. Sarah Jean said...”

I interrupted. “I'm sure she said a lot a things once the wine got to her. I mean, did you think me incapable to getting her drunk if that was my goal?”

Ms. Romero wilted in the heat of my anger. “Patrick, I am so sorry. This is not what I meant to have happen at all. Please believe me.”

She seemed close to tears and that ate at my indignation. I tried to not let it show. “Yes. I'm confident I know what you meant to have happen.” From the corner of my eye, I saw Sarah Jean fight to get up and I knew she didn't mean to join in the conversation, not in that way anyway. Moving back towards the bathroom, I noted “We'll get out of your hair once she settles down.”

Ms. Romero half followed me. “Please, stay the night. Let her rest. The ride in the car will not be pleasant at this point.” After a pause, she added “I will fetch soda water.” I heard her depart.

I didn't answer. I was too busy holding hair.

Spin Room, Spin!

Being locked in was not an immediate concern. It was not as if my brain said 'what? Locked in a bedroom with a beautiful but drunk woman? I must escape before things become problematic!' My thoughts were more along the lines of 'I noticed that? How did I notice that? The room is all spinny. Whee!' as I lay on the foot of the bed.

Sarah Jean rolled into me, deliberately I think. I took it as an attempt to upgrade our 'arm around her' back to the 'side hug' that I'd been enjoying while we were standing. “Hi.”

“Hullo yourself,” I slurred just enough to notice. “How you doin'?”

“I doin' great,” she informed. I felt her smile rather than saw it. She has a very potent smile which makes it glow and you can feel its warmth. “Patrick. You know what?”

“Chickenbutt?” I checked.

She giggled and swatted at me with her slightly free hand. “No. We're in a bedroom.” This was true, an excellent observation to be able to make while in her condition. “We're lying on a bed.” This also was an accurate statement and I congratulated her for making it. “You know what we should do?”

“Take a nap?” I was beginning to tire of the spinnyness of the room. A nap should fix that problem.

She giggled again.”No,” she said, managing to give a two letter word three syllables. She also started tickling me. Quickly her drunken mind recalled the location of my particularly ticklish spots and I was fighting to stop her. The combination of spinny room and tickle was not a very pleasant experience. Suddenly she caught a sensitive area, I jumped severely, and we were separated.

Clarity snapped back into place. I became coherent so quickly that it hurt. When your thought process snap from snail's pace back up to normal, I suppose that will happen. Thoughts and concerns flooded into my brain, only to disappear back into the fog as Sarah Jean climbed atop me. As she giggled, she made contact with me and the world became easier to deal with once again.

“There you are silly,” she slurred. Curled up atop me, she leaned in and kissed me.

When she pulled back, her expression looked significantly changed, much more green than before. As the feeling of nausea began to roll over me as well, she staggered away from me, heading for the attached bathroom.

At least this time I was better prepared for the pain of separation. I fought my way to my feet to follow her, aware that the gentlemanly thing to do under the circumstances would be to assist Sarah Jean with her long hair. Holding my head, I muttered “Nice to know that kissing me makes you sick.”

Bam!

I was valiantly attempting to defend baseball as an entertaining sport to Dr. Castillo when Sarah Jean approached me. I was leaning upon the mantle, gesturing with my right hand and, when it returned to me, it did so with a Sarah Jean attached. She slid into me, leaning deeply into me. It was one of those hugs that was very casual, not so much a hug as a using me to prop her up, with her personage trying the meld with my own. Loosely she grinned up at me. “Hi.”

Sarah Jean is a trained professional. She does not use her abilities for personal gain or just for show. She has 'switches' of a fashion in her mind to prevent her subconscious mind from roaming in an unfocused manner when she is asleep or unconscious or medicated.

I'm not completely sure what happened at this point. Everything was fine, I felt good, the last of the wine's effects leaving me. Then Sarah Jean leaned into me and I felt very good indeed. My brain fuzzed over immediately. Don't get me wrong, I do feel that Sarah Jean's presence is intoxicating and especially so her physical form, but this was ridiculous. In retrospect, I think our physical contract opened up one of those 'switches', allowing her fogged mental condition to affect me. My response to her was intelligent. “Hi.”

Dr. Castillo's grin grew mightier, shining like the crescent moon in the sky. “My friends, I sense I am no longer needed here.” He wandered off.

The suddenness of this drunk made it difficult for me to react. I recall trying to turn in order to better hold her but this movement almost proved disastrous. There was weebling as well as wobbling but no falling down. Before I could attempt another ill conceived physical movement, I was assisted. Dr. Castillo grabbed Sarah Jean's free arm, helping lift us from the mantle. Ms. Romero grabbed my free arm. We were surrounded. Suddenly we were walking.

I don't know exactly what occurred during that process. I know I focused most of my mental energies towards the picking up of one foot in order to successfully put it in front of the other. I was also aware of Ms. Romero's hot breath in my ear. I've the impression that she was speaking but none of the words were comprehensible to me. I do know what happened at the end of the process. Sarah Jean and I were guided to a bed and deposited there as gently as possible. As I fought to regain some clarity, our hosts departed the room. After the door clicked closed, it clicked again. We were locked in.

Add Wine and Stir

After this concerning start, the remainder of dinner passed by without incident. There was good food, good conversation, good friends. We were relaxed. At least I was. This was due to good wine.

I may not drink it often but I do like wine. I know precious little about it. I know people that know vintages and how long to let it breathe and all that sort of thing. I am not that guy. I have an idea of what I like and I drink that. I am not fancy about it at all.

Part of the reason I don't drink wine often is that it tends to relax me more than I'm comfortable with when I'm out and about. With most other alcoholic beverages, I'm familiar with how I react to them and have known limits. The impact of wine is harder for me to accurately judge. It seems to be more variable than other alcoholic beverages. I blame the grapes. Wine has the highest possibility of sending me from zero to drunk.

Under normal operating situations, this was something to be concerned about. Given that I would be driving later this evening, it was something to be extra concerned about. Given that Ms. Romero is difficult to resist when sober, well, you can see my problem. I reasoned that, if for reason I were to take Ms. Romero up on her offer, I wouldn't want to do it when drunk. If that was going to happen, I felt it would be something I would want to remember, not be told about after returning from a blackout. I was talked into a second glass during dinner and I resolved within myself that was going to be my limit.

This was all well and good, a fine decision to make. However, I had not considered all the factors at play. Mostly, I'd not considered Sarah Jean.

Honestly, this should come as no surprise. It has been what feels like forever since I was last seriously accompanied anywhere by a young lady. I know she's smart and I trust her. What I had not considered was that I didn't really know her tolerance levels, especially for something like wine, and know that would affect me.

I had paced out my intake of the wine and its effects on me, while pleasurable, had been minimal. I was still in control of myself. The combination of factors had hit Sarah Jean enough to dent her sense. When Ms. Romero offered her an after dinner drink in the living room, she readily agreed.

This is when the evening got complicated.

Some Light Dinner Conversation

Suddenly this felt like a situation to be much more concerned about. It was bad enough that I felt like I was walking into the lions' den again but I had expected the lions to have more choices in prey than just myself and my lady fair.

While I had that in mind, Sarah Jean had other thoughts to discuss as we walked arm in arm. “I totally believed you were over-rating her but she is just so beautiful, like storybook pretty. She was chasing after you and you turned her down?”

“Yup.”

“Really?”

“Honestly.”

She gave my arm a squeeze. “That's impressive. Or insane.”

“Thank you.” I could really think of no better response at the time.

It was unsurprising to me that the dining room was of a chic style similar to the other rooms I'd seen. The table was long and shiny, made of glass and metal. The color scheme was simple, mostly shades of white and black. Decorations were minimal.

Sarah Jean and I were seated opposite another on the 'long' sides of the rectangle of the table, while Dr. Castillo and Ms. Romero sat on the 'short' ends. While separated, Sarah Jean and I were not so far away from each other. We could have played footsie if so inclined. The visibility provided by the glass tabletop pretty much stopped that possibility from becoming a reality.

I don't often dine while dressed up. Most of the time I've done so, its been in a relatively relaxed setting, like a wedding reception where I'm surrounded by friends that don't know which fork to use either. Despite the friendly nature of my hosts, I didn't want to offend due to my ignorance. I'd brushed up on my manners via the interwebs but those points were already fading. Just what I needed at this juncture, more stress.

Servants bustled around us, filling glasses, helping us adjust chairs and napkins, putting bowls of soup before us. In a snap, they were gone, with only the butler standing in the corner of the room, waiting. I started eating when everyone else did. I've no clue what it was but it was good. Sort of a sharp tangy flavor to it. A familiar flavor but I couldn't place it.

Ms. Romero continued to smile at Sarah Jean. Clearly directing her questions to Sarah Jean, she asked “How long have you two known each other?”

Sarah Jean considered this for a moment as she dealt with the soup in her mouth. “Its been a year and half, almost two years now.”

“Where did you first met?” was the follow-up question.

I answered this question. “In my dreams.” This earned me an “awww” from Ms. Romero as well as a “Good answer my friend” from Dr. Castillo. I love telling the truth, especially because people tend not to believe it. For the 'real' answer we mentioned the mall, and considering we went to the mall not long after physically meeting, that's close enough to count, right? Saying that she appeared on my doorstep one day would just generate more questions for which we had no good answers.

“And how long have you been dating?” Ms. Romero was keen to know.

I mentally reminded my friend of my earlier... exaggeration of our relationship when speaking with Ms. Romero. At the time I would have said it was a lie but was it really? I mean, afterwards I went right to Sarah Jean to tell her about it and she got all upset. At the time we weren't officially anything but we were certainly in a relationship of sorts. Wrapped up in these thoughts, I missed most of Sarah Jean's response but I caught “off and on” as well as mentioning travel as the primary reason reason for this intermittent state.

There was a brief moment of quiet, just long enough for me to wonder if it was our turn to ask for stories from them, but Ms. Romero was still curious. “How is the intercourse?”

I choked on my soup. Once the panic faded and I knew that this mis-swallowed soup would not kill me, I reflected that it could have been worse. I might have spat all over Sarah Jean. That would have been worse.

Sarah Jean stammered and stuttered. “Do you mean conversation?” she finally asked.

“Of course not my dear, I mean sex,” Ms. Romero clarified. “I imagine that Patrick would be a very generous lover.”

I managed to stop coughing enough to exchange a glance with Sarah Jean. She looked a bit lost. That's new, not sure I've seen her lost before. My mind lit up with communication from Sarah Jean, mostly confusion.

Dr. Castillo chuckled in a friendly manner. “Ah my dear, while I understand your thoughts on this matter, I fear it may be too early in the evening for such conversation. Let us save that for dessert.” Smoothly, calm as ever, he shifted gears. “My new friend, what occupation is it that takes you away from Patrick so frequently?”

Great. I had been looking forward to dessert.

Yes, Of Course

I dreaded every step up the driveway as we headed for the mansion. It wasn't so much that I was concerned about the quality of the food we would have or the company would be unpleasant as I knew those things would be fine. It was the concern that, once again, I was walking into a trap, a sexy sexy trap. At least this time I has Sarah Jean with me. She would protect me.

My other reason for concern was the lack of traffic. I was of the impression that this was meant to be a dinner party and there weren't any other cars lining the block like the first party I'd attended here. I was worried that we were early but Sarah Jean was very confident we were accurate in the timing of our arrival. The calm reaction of the butler to our presence seemed to confirm our timing. Then again, he's a butler; he's supposed to remain calm and detached, right?

It did please me to see Sarah Jean's eyes widen a bit as we entered the hallway. She lives in a mansion but she still gave me a quick thought of 'wow!' Now I don't feel like quite the bumpkin for being impressed my first time here.

We were directed into the main room where Dr. Castillo and Ms. Romero waited for us. For that moment before they moved to greet us, they were casually posed around the room in a manner that made me think of an advertisement for some fancy brand of alcohol or another. The warmth of the fireplace glowing over Ms. Romero, the manly way that Dr. Castillo leaned upon the mantelpiece, everything looked right.

Dr. Castillo beamed his smile at us, his white teeth gleaming in the flickering firelight. He approached, hand outstretched. “Patrick my friend. What a pleasure it is to see you again.”

Ms. Romero, clad in yet another dress that appeared to be defined more by its lack of presence than its presence, bounded from the couch to join in the greeting. For a moment, she leaned in as if to kiss my cheek, then receded quickly, as if suddenly remembering Sarah Jean's presence. Instead, she took my hand and joined her hands around it in an affectionate manner. I thought that was nice. She was trying anyway. “I agree with my husband; it is good to see you again Patrick, especially as you look so well.” While still holding onto my hand, she turned to smile at Sarah Jean, standing at my side. “This will be your lady friend?” I had planned a formal introduction and, well, sometimes I can take a hint. Now was the time and I took the opportunity to accomplish this task. Politely, Dr. Castillo took her hand and kissed it. Ms. Romero released my hand in order to embrace Sarah Jean. “It is a pleasure to meet you,” Ms. Romero expressed enthusiastically. “Patrick has spoken so highly of you.”

Sarah Jean, still somewhat intertwined with Ms. Romero, looked a bit dazed by this reception. “He's spoken highly of you as well.”

Ms. Romero's smile returned its destination to me. “Has he? How very sweet of him.” Sarah Jean was released in order for her to pat my cheek affectionately. Once again she was mindful of Sarah Jean as she patted the cheek on my face and not elsewhere. “Still, we have so many other things to discuss over dinner.” Taking my hand, she sought to drag me away.

I resisted. “Shouldn't we wait for the others?”

Ms. Romero's expression was a cross between confusion and innocence. “What others, my dear Patrick? This is our dinner with you and your very lovely lady.”

“It's just that we thought it was a dinner party,” I noted.

Dr. Castillo clamped a hand on my shoulder in a friendly manner. “Four can be a party my friend.”

“Yes. It can,” I agreed. There was little else to say at that point. We went to the dining room.

Invited

It never fails. When you have nothing exciting planned, no one calls you. Have plans and a dozen people you haven't talked to in months will contact you wanting to connect later that day. “We never see you,” they plead, “come visit.” You may want to but something else has already been locked in place on the schedule. This is why I knew I should ignore the ringing phone. Logically I knew it would be an invite. How I'm not sure. Maybe I just knew answering the phone would take me away from Sarah Jean for too long. We had much yet to discuss. None of this logic was put to any use. When the phone rang, my hand immediately grabbed it to silence it. “Hello.”

“Ah! Patrick my friend!” boomed Dr. Castillo. “It is good to hear your voice again. How have you been?”

“Well,” I answered, not interested in going into detail. “I hope Ms. Romero and yourself can make a similar response.”

“Indeed we can,” he reported. “We have just returned from a trip to Spain in order to refresh our tans.” I could hear him smile. “Of course my good lady wife is keen to play 'find the tanline' with you.”

“Yes. Of course she is.”

“Not that you will find one as we spent our time at a nude beach,” Dr. Castillo informed.

Immediately unwanted pictures flashed into my head. I did not need that kind of input, especially today. I had no good response to that and simply said “Yes. Of course you did.”

Dr. Castillo focused. “The reason for my call was to see if you and your lovely lady friend were available to dine with us this evening? She is in town I hope.”

I'm not a good liar, especially when surprised. “Yeah, she's here.” My surprise at his call was compounded by Sarah Jean's appearance, walking up to me with a 'what was that?' type look on her face. I suspect that I may have broadcast those mental pictures a bit too strongly. “I'm not sure about dinner this evening.” Sarah Jean's look of curiosity only grew stronger. “I mean, I'd have to check with her.”

“Certainly you would. Is she available at the moment?”

Again, I was too confused to lie at the moment. “She is.”

“Might I speak with her?”

“Hang on.” I attempted to hand her the phone but, wisely, she refused to take it. I informed her who it was on the line. Despite giving me another look that read 'who?' she took the phone from me and began speaking.

Women have excellent telephone voices. They can be spitting mad at you, hopping up and down, calling you every name in the book as well as a few they've just made up. Two seconds later, they answer the phone and their voice is all sweetness and light. The person on the phone would never know that they were talking to an angry woman, one preparing to throw her shoe at you for something that wasn't even your fault. At all.

On the phone, Sarah Jean was no different. Her voice was light and friendly. She giggled a bit. A few minutes later, she hung up and returned the phone to its charger. “Well, now you need to buy me a dress. We need to be fancy for dinner.”

That certainly didn't take long.