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.

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.”