And Then...

If we're going to go through a list of things that I'm not good at, picking the right time to kiss a lady is high on that list. I've had a few times where I've been pushed aside or even slapped for misreading a situation. I've found out after the fact that I missed a few opportunities due to my chronic dimwittedness. More often than not, I have to be told 'we are going to kiss now' in order for it to occur. As I've noted on many occasions in the past, I am pretty clueless about women.

This time, I trusted my instincts as I believed I'd read the situation correctly. For once my instincts were right.

Without becoming too personal, it was a polite but meaningful kiss that briefly became a bit more... enthusiastic and then calmed down again. When it was over, I was politely flushed. For a moment, we stood there in each other's arms and smiled watery smiles. “So, now what?” she asked.

I had no good answer. “I dunno. We can't just keep doing what we've been doing, can we?”

“I can't,” she answered. “I just can't.”

“Then I guess we'll have to figure something out then.” A thought occurred to me. “We're not talking this conversation; we're thinking it.”

Sarah Jean's eyes lit up. “The link's back up!”

“It most certainly is.” I thought that deserved another kiss. Luckily for me, Sarah Jean had the same idea.

I Say Some Stuff

I will be the first to admit that my reaction to these words was not the best. After a pause to allow the chills to fade, I noted “We've discussed this before.”

She was leaning back against a mighty tree for support because nasty fellow me was just staring at her. “I know we have.”

I continued. “We have different hometowns, different jobs, different friends...”

Sarah Jean interrupted. “But only one heart.” I had no immediate response to that declaration so she followed up on it. “We've spent so much time in each other's heads. We're comfortable with each other. We're good friends. I don't want to be without you.”

“You're not without me now,” I noted.

“That's not what I mean and you know it,” she retorted. “I know you've had relationships sour on you before and I know you can be guarded but you don't trust me now?”

“This has nothing to do with trust.”

“Then what?” she demanded.

This is where I was frustrated and it bubbled forth. In a less emotional moment we discussed all these possibilities and decided to stay friends because of them. Exasperatedly I asked “And we do what exactly? You move here and get bored with a less adventurous life? Or I leave my admittedly comfortable job to start all over in New York? Or sit around the mansion while you go out on missions, hoping for you to come back safe?” I paused to collect myself. “I love hearing your stories but that doesn't mean I don't worry about you.”

Sarah Jean was quiet. “I know. I can feel it.”

“Nothing has changed there,” I stated. “We are who we are.”

“I know.”

At that point I couldn't look at her because I knew she was crying. I couldn't blame her in the least. Here she was, pouring her heart out to me in person and I was being all cold and logical back to her. Just mean. Even at the time I knew I was being mean. And that hurt, stabbed me to the heart.

I turned to her. She was staring at her feet, silently crying. I sighed, aware that I was going to do something that, logically, was stupid. I took her hand, pulling her away from the tree. This made her look up at me, allowing me a chance to wipe away her tears and tuck her hair behind her ear. “I do love you Sarah Jean.” And then I kissed her.

Sarah Jean Says Some Things

Sarah Jean took a deep breath and began.

“Like I said, Doc heard through his contacts about this crypt that just seemed to spring up with this weird writing in it. They sent it to him because he knows about all sorts of weird things. Doc took one look at the picture and got very serious. We had to go check this out. It was so serious to him that he had to come along and that sort of situation is rare. We were a bit concerned, said he didn't have to come along with all the technology we have to transmit pictures and video, he could translate from home. But no, he had to come along.

“We got to the crypt with no problems and me with Lloyd Brown, the researcher that had called on Doc. This man looked like a researcher: wild hair, small glasses perched on the end of his nose, clothes that were slightly grubby because he was too absent-minded to wash them. He takes us to the crypt to see these carvings in person. When we got there we had two problems. Doc glances at the carvings and freaks out because they didn't match the pictures Lloyd had sent him. Someone these ancient carvings had changed overnight. The other problem was the strange man.

“He was there when we arrived and just kept asking questions and adding to the conversation that nobody thought much of him until Doc asked Lloyd to be introduced to him and Lloyd became confused because Lloyd thought this man was with us. The man tried to dismiss the questions about his identity, pointing out that what the carvings spoke of was much more important.

“That settled nothing. Doc got loud, the strange man kept refusing to explain himself and, in the midst of this argument, everything went purple.

“It was really weird. There was a flash of purple, just for a moment, just long enough to notice. After the glow faded, everything looked the same as it had before until Barbara pointed out that the carvings had changed again.

“The Stranger used a device to scan the carvings. He identified their origin and Doc got concerned again, one of those 'how do you know that?' moments because Doc likes being the smartest person in the room. The Stranger just grinned and said he'd seen a few things in his time.

“They agreed that the carvings were Banydren or something like that, in nature and that the carvings were the display of some device but at the time they weren't sure what type of device.

“We exited the crypt and things were just going nuts outside. Our communication system was reporting cracks in reality and crazy things happening everywhere with no one else picking up the phone. We spread out to hit some of the disasters, just to try and do something to help, while the eggheads examined the device in the crypt, as they were sure it was the cause of all these problems.

“Harry and I headed to Chicago to investigate reports of a 150 foot bear that was rampaging through downtown. The bear was real and real big. Eventually we managed to lure it between two skyscrapers to stop it from moving around and Harry killed it. I just... you really don't want to hear how. It was beyond gross.

“I had wanted the Chicago mission because I knew that would put me near you. After the bear had been dealt with, I twisted Harry's arm a little to check on you and he agreed. You know, he may not show it much but Harry does like you. I think he was worried about you too. At least a little.

“Pirate ships had landed on the shores of Lake Michigan and the pirates were attacking the city. When we didn't find you at home, we went to school and...

“Ahem. We, uh, went to school and, um, the pirates were attacking there. No one was really there to fight back so the pirates were winning. I was able to sense you and we hurried to find you, stopping pirates as we ran. When we finally found you, you were bravely fighting off a pirate in the stairwell near your office. I... and I, um, got so excited and relieved that you were okay that I called out your name and... it distracted you and...

“And then the pirate stabbed you. He laughed and stabbed you with his sword.

“I guess I yelled, Harry said I yelled and ran to you but it was too late. You died in my arms.

“I don't know how long I sat there, cradling your body and crying but I did until Harry got me moving again. Harry had killed the pirate that killed you, not that it really mattered much at that point.

“Much of the rest of it is a blur. We fought off pirates, crushed some robots in Detroit, captured a talking tiger in Battle Creek, just a blur of stuff until the communication came from Doc. They had figured out the device. We were in a pocket universe. The device was an ancient toy that had accidentally become activated in the chaos. We all returned to Vermont, fought off an ancient evil that guarded the device and made it back to our proper reality.

“Once we were here, I couldn't sense you so I came running to check that you were okay and here we are.

“I... I didn't expect to feel quite like that. When you died. I mean, I don't know what I expected to feel but... It just felt like a warning or something. I don't know how to describe it.

“It's just...

“Patrick, I love you.”

Going For a Walk

After lunch it was time for a walk. Where we are near the lake there's some beach and some little wooded park areas, all good for walking in or around. I can never remember the actual name of the twisting street that takes you down to Lake Drive but if North Avenue went all the way to the Lake, I could have taken that and gotten to the same area. So thereish.

It was a nice enough day that we weren't alone as we walked along the sidewalk but it wasn't nice enough for it to be crowded. The air was cool but the sun provided that hint of warmth that was most enjoyable. We strolled mostly in silence, commenting blandly on the things around us. It was a post-lunch conversation. Those should never be too complicated.

I enjoy walking and am aware that I don't do it enough. I can use all the exercise I can get. On my own I tend to walk at a quick pace. Here with Sarah Jean, I had to modify my step to match her slower pace. This wasn't as easy as I expected. She would slow down and speed up, apparently at random, meaning sometimes I'd gotten ahead of her and would have to slow down or whatever. I began to wonder if it was one of those subtle tests that women will do to men, some sort of 'how will he walk with me?' thing. Further investigation of the situation led me to put less faith in this possibility. She seemed too distracted for this to be intentional. Unless that was part of the test. It could have been.

Once we reached Veterans Park, I led us into it. The park was large enough to ramble around in but no so big that you could get lost in it. It would also allow as to approach the lake if we were so inclined. In the park, we would likely be more alone without being 'alone', if that makes any sense.

Veterans Park isn't heavily wooden but it has trees and shrubbery. It's one of those parks that often gets used for events, so it's very open in design. It's green enough to be relaxing but paved enough that you can walk without stumbling over uneven ground if you desire.

When we were in the park proper and mostly away from others, Sarah Jean changed the subject to serious again. “I think I need to tell you more about what happened.”

“You don't need to tell me anything you don't want to tell me,” I expressed.

“No, I think I do,” she answered. “I think if I tell you more about what happened, then you'll better understand why I feel the way I do.”

“If you're sure.”

She nodded. “I think I'm sure.”

“Well, that's a start anyway.”

Lunch

Sarah Jean's appearance threw my weekend plans for rest completely out. Even if she didn't want to do much beyond leaning on me, that was still more activity than I had expected. At least her presence had recharged me somewhat. I was tired but not as exhausted. She's better than coffee, that's for sure.

After I got cleaned up, we decided to go out for lunch. When I say 'we' I mostly mean her but I didn't argue with her so that counts as agreement. As it was a pleasant, sunny, 'warm for this early in spring in Wisconsin' day, we made out way to a place near the lake. It's not too fancy but it's nice. Mostly I remembered it being populated with windows, decided than should let in some sun, and desired that warmth. Thankfully it wasn't crowded and we were able to get a quiet table in the sun.

After our waitress left with our drink order, we sat there smiling at each other. “So,” I started, “what happened to you?”

“What happened to you?” she countered.

“I was chased around the Museum by an Egyptian god and his undead minions,” I answered.

“Weird,” she noted. “They did say things would be weird for awhile.”

“You heard that too then?” Sarah Jean nodded. “Any clue if this reality tear was fixed yet?”

“From what we were told, Mr. Midnight has fixed it,” she informed.

“Good, good.” I looked at her. She had dodged my question before so she wasn't interested in talking about the experience that led her to my door today. While I didn't want to rile her up emotionally, well, my curiosity is not a secret. “So what happened to you?”

Her gaze dropped to the wooden table between us. “I... I don't really...”

I tried to reassure her. “You don't need to give me all the details; just give me the gist.” Then I thought “To start with.” She didn't react to my thinking this so it seemed that our connection is still down.

She nodded. “Okay. We, ah, the Remainers, got involved with this weird crypt in Vermont because it had some writing it it that resembled an ancient version of an alien language that Doc can read. The crypt seemed to appear out of nowhere, probably as part of the tear. As we looked into it, there was a time traveler, we were stuck in a pocket dimension and there you...”

I interrupted her. “Yes I think we both know the result by now.” I thought about this for a moment. “Time traveler? Was it...?” She shook her head no. “But a pocket dimension?” She nodded. “As I understand it, pocket dimensions are artificially created.” This information did nothing to change her expression. “Don't you see? If it was artificially created, then it wasn't a 'real' dimension, not likely to actually happen. Nothing there was really real, so it's like it didn't happen.”

My attempts to be encouraging weren't. “So what if nothing was 'real' there, I remember what happened and that's what's important.” She paused as our drinks came. For the waitress we both smiled. When she walked away, we returned to our concerns. “It's not like it was a hallucination or a dream. I experienced it and it was real to me.”

“Well what if...”

She quickly cut me off. “No more what ifs or maybes. None of it changes what I saw.”

“Fair enough.”

“None of that changes the way I feel,” she continued.

“Gotcha.” I worked to back-pedal, concerned I'd gotten her all worked up again. “I'm sorry. Just trying to help.”

Sarah Jean sighed and smiled at me. “I know. I've spent enough time in your head to know when you're trying to help.” Her expression turned into a wicked grin. “I also know when you're just being difficult.”

I smiled back. “Isn't that all the time?”

“Close.”

Not Being Dead

Sarah Jean recovered herself faster this time than last. “I'm sorry,” she muttered into my shoulder.

“Glad to help,” I replied. I moved to break the hold but she resisted. While not the most comfortable situation in the world, this was still nice and if she didn't mind, why should I?

She shifted position, rotating so that she was leaning back into me rather than talking into me. She looked up at me but I couldn't really see her and I suspect the same was true for her. “Hi,” she said.

“Hello,” I politely replied.

“Why can't I get into your head?” she asked with a sigh.

“Oh you're in my head alright,” I responded.

She giggled. “Something happened to break our link. That I understand but I'm confused why I can't restart it.”

“That's the problem?” I checked.

She nodded. “Part of it anyway. It's why I couldn't feel you were still alive.”

“I've been so tired this week I just blamed everything on that,” I explained. “I knew I didn't feel right but didn't realize it was that.” When that link is active, I feel a gentle warmth, like being constantly hugged. I guess I knew it was gone but didn't know that was it. “Maybe I am dead.”

“Don't say that. That's not funny.”

“I didn't say it to be funny,” I noted. Then I grinned. “Maybe you're dead.”

“That is also not funny,” she declared. After a moment she added “You do smell like you could be dead.”

“Well I wasn't prepared for company this morning,” I retorted, “no matter how frantic or pleasant that company may be. I can go get cleaned up if you like.”

“Not just yet,” she informed. “I'm still enjoying you not being dead.” She nestled into me. “Just a bit more.”

So that's what we did.

One of Those Things

Eventually she calmed down enough to properly come inside the house and sit down. The advantage to that was primarily my relaxation. I was concerned about what the neighbors would think. Not that my neighbors are especially nosy or that I'm concerned about impressing them, I was just worried that they would think I'd done something to cause this reaction. You can only control people's perceptions so far but I really didn't want to become That Guy That Makes Women Cry.

This also gave me the opportunity to put on real pants instead of my comfy pants. With her this worked up, a bit more formality might help settle her mood a bit. At the very least it might settle my mood a bit.

There was enough sun so that the kitchen was nice and bright this morning. I directed her there, poured us coffee, and very politely encouraged her to explain why it was so surprising to see me today. Not that there shouldn't be some level of enthusiasm upon seeing me but this was a bit more than normal.

She huddled over her coffee cup, almost hugging it as she had me. “Do you want the long version or the short version?”

I sighed as I sipped my coffee. It was going to be one of these things. “Give me the short version. I don't know that I'm awake enough for anything complicated at this point.”

She took a deep breath, looked up at me as if to speak, and then returned her gaze to her coffee. Before I could prompt her further, she spoke, the words wavering from her with emotion. “I saw you die.”

I considered this for a moment. You'd really think this would phase me more but even my tired mind offered explanations. “You mean you had a dream that I died or that you had an impression that something...”

Sarah Jean cut me off abruptly. “No. I saw you die. In front of me.” Tears silently began to slide down her face.

Now I was confused, tired, and confused. Yes, twice confused. “But I didn't die. I rather think I would remember that.”

This statement did little to calm her. “You died in front of me and then I couldn't sense you anymore and I was so worried and here you are and...” She broke off into sobbing again.

I believe I've made it quite clear in the past that I am a big idiot, especially when it comes to the workings of the female mind and emotions. I have often reflected on previous situations and realized where I'd gone wrong, even if the correct course of action remained unclear to me. On this occasion, I tried to not overthink my reaction. She was crying and hugging her had stopped similar crying. I was interested in stopping these tears as well. I slid my stool to the other side of the island so I could be next to her. Upon wrapping an arm around her, she once again buried herself into my shoulder to soak it with her tears.

While still confused and concerned, I was also pleased. This seemed to be the correct course of action. I was also pleased that she hadn't knocked us off our perch when she'd crushed herself into me. Not falling was nice.