Ever since I was a little girl, I have always loved fireworks. The colors, the sparks, the boom you feel down in your soul. And the best part about fireworks is although you can tell when they’re being launched, you never really know just when they’ll explode.
Harry shook his head and chuckled to himself. ‘Little red socks.’ John could still tell a joke like nobody he had ever known. Harry Lipschitz had just gotten off the phone with an old buddy of his from the NYPD, and they had spent a good hour and a half reminiscing about old times. Somewhere toward the middle of the conversation, John had offered Harry free reign of a cabin he owned in upstate New York, but the captain had been forced to decline, siting allergies amongst other things as the reasons he and his wife, Fran, could make no use of it. His friend told him to offer it to anyone he wanted, since he was certain he wouldn't be using it anytime soon.
Harry immediately thought of Chris and Rita.
Both the young detectives had been stressed as of late, due to break-ups with
their significant others. Rita’s break-up with Eric was certainly the right
thing to do, but she seemed to take it hard for a while. Chris, on the other
hand, didn't show much emotion after his break-up with Jillian, though both
Harry and Rita knew he wasn't as unaffected as he appeared.
“Chris, Rita, can I see you in my office for
a moment?” Harry requested, poking his head out the office door.
The detectives looked at each other slightly
confused, before Rita shrugged and led the way to their superior’s office. Taking their seats, she was the first
to speak.
“What’s up Cap?” she breached the silence.
“You two look tired,” he quickly cut to the
chase. Harry wasn't usually one to
beat around the bush.
“Gee, thanks, Captain,” Chris shot back,
insulted.
“Seriously, Lorenzo. Ever since your break-up with Jillian,”
motioning to Chris, “and your break-up with Eric,” indicating Rita, “you two
haven’t been the same. You’re
working too hard, burning the candle at both ends. You need a break.
A vacation of sorts.”
“Is that an offer, Cap?” Rita joked,
desperate to get the conversation away from her empty love life.
“Actually,” he said, pointing to a thin stack
of papers on his desk, “it is. An
old friend of mine from the NYPD offered me the use of his cabin in upstate New
York. Since my allergies would
kill me up there, I thought I would offer it to the two of you. I figured you could get away from work for
a while. Relieve some stress.”
“Together, Cap?” Chris asked, surprised. Harry had always had his suspicions as
to the nature of the detectives’ relationship, so his offering them a cabin in
the woods together was a bit out of character.
“I trust you two, Lorenzo. You’re both
adults, and you know the rules.
You’re old enough to make your own decisions.” He had total faith in them. There had been a few close calls, but nothing as of yet to
make Harry seriously worry.
“Jeez, I don’t know Cap. I may be busy,” Rita quickly declined,
not really wanting to spend time alone with Chris in a romantic cabin.
“I haven't even told you when it is, Lance,”
Harry pointed out, matter-of-factly.
Rita blushed, embarrassed by her over-zealousness to decline the offer.
“I’ll bite,” Chris smiled. “When is it?”
“Well, it’ll be free for the next few
weeks. I thought that maybe you
two would like some time off to relax.
Lord knows you could use it.”
“Um, can I think about it, Cap?” Chris
requested.
“Sure, take all the time you need. It’s not like you have to report to
me. The cabin will be free, so I
just wanted to let you both know that you’re welcome to it.” Harry handed Chris the papers his
friend had faxed him, and looked back down at the stack on his desk. He had been working all morning, yet it
appeared he hadn’t even dented the wall of files.
“Thanks, Cap. We’ll take a look a them.”
“Good.
Now, both of you get out of here and go to work on the Groman case. We need the paper work done by 3 this
afternoon, so get your butts in gear!”
Chris briskly left the office, but Rita had
to drag herself out. Harry noticed
her
sluggishness and called her back for a
moment. “Rita, are you feeling
okay?” his
fatherly concern surfaced.
“Yeah, I’m fine, Cap,” she quickly answered,
rubbing the back of her neck with
her right hand.
“Cuz if something was wrong you would talk to
me, right?” he questioned.
“Yeah, Cap. I’m just tired lately.
I’m fine though, really.” She
smiled reassuringly at him as she walked out of his office, glad she had
avoided one of the famous Lipschitz lectures.
Back in his office, Harry shook his
head. Something was definitely
wrong with her. She just wasn’t
saying. He would have to get her
to talk about it. Maybe Chris
knew. Harry made a mental note to
himself to talk to Lorenzo about his partner.
Rita walked over to her desk and found Chris
seated on his side, flipping through the papers Harry had given him. Sitting down, she cleared her throat,
signaling her presence.
Chris quickly looked up at her. Biting his finger for a moment, he
jumped out of his seat and walked over to her desk. Perching himself on the edge, he dropped the papers in front
of his partner, pointing toward them.
“It looks like a nice place, Sam,” he said, glancing around the station.
Rita looked uninterestedly at the stack,
brushing it aside. “I don’t think
so, Chris,” she quietly refused.
“Why not Rita? You haven’t even looked at the papers yet.” He lifted them off her desk and held
them in front of her face.
“Chris, cut it out,” she scolded, swatting
his hand away, lacking the mood to play.
Chris placed the papers back on her desk and
hopped off. Squatting level with her
chair, he turned her to face him.
Looking deep into her eyes, he placed a gentle hand on her upper
arm. “Rita, what’s wrong?” he
whispered.
“Nothing, Chris,” she lied. On the verge of tears, she tried to
laugh them away.
“Hey, hey,” Chris comforted. He could see she was about to cry, the
tears threatening to spill over.
Grabbing her hand, he pulled her up from her seat and led her out of the
building. Leading her over to a
secluded bench, he sat her down and gently lifted her chin. “Sam, what’s wrong?” he asked
concerned.
“Nothing, Chris, really,” she smiled an empty
smile.
“You can’t lie to me, Rita. I know something’s wrong. What is it?”
“Chris...” she trailed off. She couldn’t tell him. It was too pathetic. She looked into his gorgeous, ocean
blue eyes and saw something deep within them. She wasn’t sure what it was, but there was definitely
something there. “Chris, I miss
Eric,” she whispered as if it were a sin.
Chris’ eyes darkened and his handsome face
hardened visibly. Rita knew how he
felt about Eric. After all the
pain Eric had caused her, Chris swore he would never let him hurt her again.
“You really miss him Rita?” he found his
voice.
“Yes...no...I don’t know. I just feel so empty, so...alone. I miss having somebody,” she murmured,
embarrassed over the whole notion.
“There’s nothing wrong with that Sam. I miss Jillian, too, if you wanna know
the truth,” he confessed.
“Chris, Jillian didn’t lie to you. She didn’t hurt you like Eric hurt
me. It’s okay for you to miss her;
you guys had something special.
But Eric and me...."
“Hey, c’mon Sam, you don’t miss Eric.” He laughed at the confusion in her
eyes. “You miss being in
love. It’s a wonderful
feeling. This all-consuming
emotion. And when it’s gone, you
feel dead inside. But trust me
Rita, you’ll find someone better than Eric. Someone who will treat you the way you deserve to be
treated. And this guy is gonna be
the luckiest guy on the planet.”
He smiled brightly at her and leaned in, kissing her gently on the
forehead. When he pulled back, he
looked into her eyes, fixated on the bright green emeralds.
Something passed between them and Rita turned
away, frightened by the feelings that hit her all of a sudden.
Chris felt it too, and he cleared his throat
before standing up, offering her a hand.
“So partner, whaddya say we go back inside and check out this cabin Cap
was telling us about?” He smiled
teasingly at her, and she couldn’t help but grin back.
“Sounds great....partner.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chris trudged through the heavy oak door of
the cabin, dropping bags as he walked.
Rita followed closely behind him, picking up the bags and various other
items he left in his wake. Standing
in the center of the living room and scanning the area, Chris quite
unceremoniously dropped the luggage on the floor and plopped on the couch,
sighing from exhaustion.
“Chris,” Rita admonished.
He looked at her wearily, well aware of what
she was about to say.
“Okay,” she ceded. “We’ll leave the bags.
Just take what you need to sleep in.” She bent down to open her suitcase when she felt Chris close
behind her.
He leaned down and whispered in her ear, “what
makes you think I wear anything Sam?”
The rough texture of his words sent a shiver
down Rita’s spine and she straightened up quickly. She couldn’t understand why the simple things he did
affected her so much as of late.
The merest touch from him would send her senses reeling and she had to
get them under control fast before she did something she would most likely
regret.
“Cut it out, Chris,” she chided. Tucking a stray piece of hair behind
her ear, a nervous habit she often resorted to, she surveyed their
surroundings. The large room,
obviously the main room of the modest cabin, was beautifully carved, the wood
stained a deep chestnut color.
There was a fireplace right in the center of the room, a beautiful focal
point and something romantic that could not be easily ignored. As Rita stared into the fireplace, she
shivered from both the frigid temperature in the cabin and the nearness of her
partner. They were away from
civilization, just the two of them, alone in a cozy little cabin. How they would ever get through the
following four days was beyond Rita.
Chris saw her shiver and walked up behind
her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Cold, Sam?” he asked concerned.
“Yeah, a little,” she whispered. His touch we beginning to melt her, and
it forced her to turn around, breaking the contact. Staring right into his eyes, she realized this too was an
awkward position and a bad choice.
Rita took a step back and found a bit more strength for her words. “I wonder if there is any heat in this
place,” she questioned aloud, wandering around the room, running her hand over
the smooth walls as she passed them.
Chris laughed lightly and quickly corrected
her. “Sam,” he said, “I think the
fireplace may be the heat.”
Rita stopped dead in her tracks, the
realization hitting her. In order
to stay warm, they would have to light a fire. And a blazing fire was one of the things she had always
considered most romantic.
“You know,” she stammered, “it suddenly it’s
not so cold in here anymore.”
Anything to avoid starting a fire.
“Sam, are you crazy?! I can barely feel my hands. I’ll go check for a shed out
“Chris, be careful,” Rita called out after
him. He looked at her, confusion
written
Chris smiled at her and laughed. “Sammy, look at some of the women I’ve
dated.... I think I can handle the
ice.” He smiled brightly at her,
the Lorenzo grin mixing with a mischievous glint.
“You,” she exclaimed before laughing as he
walked out the door. Sighing
deeply, Rita wandered into the kitchen, inspecting every aspect of the
eatery. She turned her attention
to the refrigerator, opening the double doors. Much to her surprise, it was stocked with food. Enough food to last them a month. It seemed such a waste, they had
brought so much food of their own.
Suddenly a door opened, shocking Rita. She gasped, not expecting anybody to be coming in to the
kitchen from the outside. She
hadn't even noticed the door there.
Looking in the direction of the intruder, she saw Chris.
The look of fear and astonishment on her face
startled him and he immediately assumed something was terribly wrong. “Sam, what’s wrong?” he asked anxiously.
“You scared me, Chris!” Rita scolded,
accentuating each word with a smack on his arm. “Dammit, that wasn’t funny!”
Chris put his arms up defensively, trying to
ward off the attack. “Ouch, Sam,
that hurt,” he whined after she had finished her assault. He examined his arm, checking for any
lasting marks.
“Oh, stop it you baby,” she laughed, finally
recovered from her shock. “I did
not hit you hard. You’re just
looking for pity.”
“Well, am I gonna get any?” he asked
defensively.
“Not from me,” she teased. “I’m not here to nurse your male ego.”
“Sam, I’m hurt,” he said, feigning insult.
“I bet you are,” she smiled coyly at
him. “So, did you find a shed out
back?”
Chris scratched his head for a moment, a cute
little habit of his from which Rita derived
Much to his surprise, she simply sighed and
said, “sounds wonderful.” As if
she suddenly heard what she had said, Rita quickly cleared her throat,
correcting herself. “I mean, we’ll
finally be warm. It’s getting a
bit cold in here.” She embraced
herself and rubbed her arms for warmth.
Without a word spoken, Chris removed his coat
and placed it on her shoulders.
“Better?”
he whispered.
“Yeah, thanks.” He was now standing right behind her, so close she could feel
“Sam, it’s okay,” he laughed. “It’s just a coat.” Lifting it off the ground, Chris hung
"Yeah, I'm okay, Chris. I think it’s just the fact that we're
up in the mountains or
Chris shook his head. Something was definitely wrong. He had assumed that
"Chris, we have anything you could
possibly want. So what are we
gonna eat?"
"Pizza," he smiled.
"Sam, we don't have pizza," Rita
pointed out, annoyance glazing her words.
"Well, you said ‘anything,’" he
threw her words back at her. He
saw her rigid
"STUCK?!" she yelled so loudly he
flinched.
That hadn't been the reaction he'd expected
from her.
"Chris, you're the one who made me crazy
until I agreed to come to this stupid cabin. So if you wanna go, by all means, leave! But don't make it sound like you have
to be here with me, cuz you don't!"
Rita hadn't expected an emotional outburst like that. Her energy spent, she leaned on the
sink for support to keep from falling. After a few moments, she turned around
and slowly walked to Chris.
He hadn't spoken a word to her since her
eruption because, quite frankly, he was
"Chris," she whispered, placing a
delicate hand on his shoulder, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell.
I just feel so....so mixed up inside. One minute I'm in a great mood, the next minute I am ready
to tear someone's head off......namely Eric’s" she added, trying to ease
the tension.
"It's okay, Rita," he whispered his
acceptance to her apology. "I
wanna tear his
"No Chris, it's not you. I'm just going through some things
right now. I'm having trouble
sorting out some emotions."
Rita didn't go into detail as to which emotions. The last thing she needed to do was
slip up and tell Chris what she was feeling for him. She was certain he didn't feel the same way, or else he
never would have started a relationship with Jillian.
"Sam, you know you can talk to me about
it. Look, we came up here because
the captain said we both looked like we needed a break. So, let's take the break. For the next 7 days, we are just two
people in a cabin. We aren't cops
dealing with the pressures of the job, and neither of us just ended long-term
relationships. We are just Chris
and Rita, not Sergeants Lance and Lorenzo of the Palm Beach PD, deal?" he
finished with a smile.
Rita could see he was making the effort, and
after blowing up at him, it was the least she could do to concede. "Sure," she smiled back.
Chris let out a sigh of relief. Maybe now they could start to rebuild
their friendship. It was in
desperate need of repair.
"So, what to do about dinner?
How would you like grilled chicken on a bed on pasta with snow peas and
sliced carrots?" he suggested.
"Wow, that sounds great," Rita
commented, somewhat shocked that he could cook such a culinary delight.
"Yeah, it does. So, uh, do you know how to make
it?" he teased.
"Christopher!" She laughed before throwing a dishtowel
at him, causing him to laugh in return.
"I was just kidding. Why don't we make it together?"
"Sounds like fun," Rita smiled.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
About two and a half hours later, the kitchen
was a mess. Pots filled the sink,
spilling out onto the counter, the refrigerator door lay haphazardly open, and
Chris and Rita sat in the midst of the havoc, enjoying a wonderful dinner.
"Wow, this came out great Sam. See, we make an awesome team,"
Chris congratulated.
"Yeah, we do," she smiled
shyly. "But now this team has
to clean up."
Chris groaned at the mere mention of such
tedious work.
"C'mon, Chris, you helped make the mess,
you help clean it up." She
dragged him from his seat at the table to the sink. Handing him the same dishtowel she had thrown at him
earlier, she instructed "I'll wash, you dry."
"I feel bad for your kids Sam. You are gonna be a slave driving
mother," he joked as he reached for the first pot he was to dry.
"Yeah, well, I need a guy before I can
have kids, Chris. And with my
track record, that doesn't appear highly likely." There was a twinge of pain in her voice
at the mere mention of kids. Her
first ray of hope in the child department had not only been a false alarm, but
also a bad choice of fathers.
"What would you have done if you were
really pregnant, Rita?" Chris asked.
His voice was so heavy with emotion it startled her for a second.
"I honestly don't know, Chris. And I'm kinda glad I didn't have to
find out."
"Kinda?" Chris asked confused. Maybe he was reading too much into the
simple word, but something about the way she said it nagged him.
"I mean, it would be nice to have
children someday, but not until I find the right guy. A guy like Eric is not who I would have chosen to be the
father of my children. He's not
responsible enough. I would want a
guy that I know would be there for them.
He would rock them to sleep at night, go to their baseball games, teach
them how to play basketball.
Someone like you, Chris." The last comment slipped out before she
knew what she was saying. But
instead of taking back her statement, she merely added, "You would make a great
father to some lucky kid and a great husband to some special woman." Little did she know that the only
special woman on Chris' mind was her.
"Thanks, Sam" he said, slightly
embarrassed by her quiet praise.
Rita, not certain of how to respond, merely
handed him the last dish to dry.
Silently completing his task, Chris followed his tired partner into the
living room. Suddenly both felt
awkward. Talk of marriage and
children had unnerved both single people.
"This is a nice place," Chris
commented.
"Yeah, it is beautiful. And so quiet. I remember once when I was about five, my
"You don't talk about him much,
Sam," Chris said. There
really was nothing behind the statement.
He was just making an observation, an attempt at small talk.
"It's still a sore subject, Chris,"
she whispered. Suddenly the hands
clasped in her lap had become fascinating. Blinking away tears, she looked up at her partner. "So, Chris, what about you? Do you want kids?"
He was surprised by the sudden shift in both the
conversation and the mood of his partner.
She was smiling brightly, her elbow resting on the back of the couch,
her head propped up by a fist.
He smiled back at her, unsure of how to
answer. 'Sure Rita, I would love
to have kids....with you.' He could
never tell her that. If she felt
the same as he did, if her feelings resembled his in any way, she wouldn't have
started dating Eric. "I guess
so," he said warily.
"Yeah, yeah I would."
There was a confidence in his voice, a conviction that was comforting. "The only time I really thought
about it was when Rikki showed up with Joshua. I honestly thought he was mine. In fact, I sorta wished he was."
"Don't worry, Chris. You'll have kids some day. And you'll make a great dad.” Rita
clasped his leg in her hand, giving him a reassuring squeeze. She sighed deeply before surveying the
room. "It's kinda late,
Sam. What do you say we turn in
for the night?"
Chris glanced at his watch. "Rita, it's only 10:30. You wanna go to sleep already?"
"Yeah, it’s been a long...," she
yawned, "...day."
Chris smiled at the way her nose wrinkled up
when she yawned. It was like a
cute little button.
"What?" she asked self-consciously
when she saw Chris watching her, smiling crookedly.
"Nothing. You just look cute when you yawn." Before he could stop himself, he
reached out and caressed her cheek.
Pulling his hand back a moment later, he quickly said, "Why don't
you go get ready for bed, Sam."
"Uh, yeah, that's a good idea,” she
stammered. Rita walked over to the
suitcases which were still on the floor in the center of the room and opened
hers, removing a long conservative flannel nightgown. Finding the bathroom, she entered, locking the door behind
her.
Chris shrugged to himself, wondering what to
do next. Suddenly it hit him. They hadn't checked out the
bedrooms. He wasn't sure which one
he would be sleeping in. Wandering around, he explored the beautifully ornate
rooms. The cabin consisted of the
bathroom, the kitchen, a dining room, a bedroom.
He stopped abruptly as it hit him.
They were going to have a problem.
"Rita," he called out, rapping on
the bathroom door.
"Just a sec, Chris," she yelled
back. A moment later the bathroom
door swung open and Rita stepped out in her flannel nightgown, a pair of white
slouch socks covering her feet.
"Sam, are you sure you wanna sleep in
that?" he teased.
Missing the point of his joke, she looked at
him curiously.
"Well, if you sleep in something like
that, I may not be able to control myself." He laughed as she pursed her lips and tilted her head, the
way she always did when she thought one of his jokes was stupid.
"Chris, is there a reason you're
bothering me or are you just doing it for fun?" she asked sarcastically.
"No, there actually is a reason. We have a slight problem," was all
he said.
He was waiting for her to ask what the
problem was and she knew it, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of
asking. They seemed to have gotten
pettier with each other over the months.
It was a part of their relationship she didn't enjoy. Maybe this week would give them the
time they needed to talk about what was happening to them. There was this unidentifiable,
unnatural tension between them, and Rita could tell Chris was just as
uncomfortable with it as she was.
"There's only one bedroom," he
finally informed her, no longer waiting to learn of her curiosity.
"Are you serious, Chris?!" she
shrieked. "One bedroom for
the entire vacation? How are we
supposed to manage that?"
"Look, Rita," he sighed, "I'll
sleep on the couch and you can have the bed." Walking over to the couch, he sat down, running his hands
over the cushions.
"Chris," Rita sighed, "that
couch looks so uncomfortable."
"Well, what other choice do we
have?"
"We can..." She hesitated for a moment, wondering
if she should even suggest what she was thinking. "We can share the bed," she said haltingly.
Chris' eyes flew to her face, unsure if he had
really heard her suggestion correctly.
"Sam...Sam, the couch is fine," he stumbled over the words.
"Christopher, don't be ridiculous. By the time we leave this place you
won't be able to move. I'm sure
the bed is big enough for the both of us." She prayed her nervous tone wasn't too noticeable.
"You sure, Rita?" he searched for
acquiescence. He could tell she
was uncomfortable with the situation.
So was he. 'But a
comfortable bed with a beautiful woman sounds a lot more inviting then a lumpy
couch' he thought to himself.
'Wait, did I just call Rita beautiful?' he panicked. What was happening to him? He was a lot more sensitive to her
lately. To the little things. The way she would sip her coffee, play
with her earring, cross her legs.
He was finding it harder and harder to concentrate. Desire clouding his eyes for a brief
second, he shook his head and looked questioningly at her once more.
"Yes, I'm sure, Chris. Look we're both adults. We've been best friends forever. I think we can handle this. It's no big deal." She shrugged it off as if she didn't
really mind, but the truth was her pulse was racing with just the mere thought
of sleeping in the same bed with Christopher Lorenzo. She had never actually been lucky enough to experience that
perk – except when pretending while on the job.
"Well, as long as you're okay with it,
Sam" he said warily. He
smiled appreciatively at her, relieved that he wouldn't have to spend the next
six nights on the uncomfortable looking couch. He walked over to the bathroom and shut the door behind him.
Once the door closed on its hinges, Rita let
out a deep sigh and plopped down on the couch. What was she going to do? She couldn't actually go through
with this. How was she going to
sleep the next six nights with Chris lying beside her? This would definitely be the most
uncomfortable situation they had had to deal with yet. Looking up at the crack of the door,
her heart jumped to her throat as she saw Chris standing there clad only in a
pair of boxers and a tank top.
Chris saw her staring at him and looked down at himself, inspecting his
attire.
"What?" he asked self-consciously.
She shook her head, trying to find her
voice. "Nothing," she
muttered.
A smile lit his face as he teased her
lightly. "Well, I thought I
would put something on for bed," he joked. "I wouldn't wanna overwhelm you," he laughed. He was desperately trying to ease the
tension present in the room over their current sleeping arrangements. He flexed for her, causing her to laugh
lightly, her laughter earning her a dejected look.
"Oh," she cooed, "did I bruise
that precious male ego?" she giggled.
"You, my friend," he accused,
pointing at her, "are an evil woman."
Rita yawned in response to his accusation.
"You look beat, Rita. Whaddya say we go to bed?" She blushed furiously at his
words. Realizing what he had said,
he stumbled over a rephrase of his words.
"Umm, I mean, umm...." but unfortunately for both him and his
partner, he couldn't find the words he needed to explain.
"It's okay, Chris," she mumbled. "I understand.
Yeah, I am a little tired.
Are you
"No, I think I might stay up for a
while. You go to sleep. I'll lock up and shut the lights
out. Go ahead," he prompted,
kissing her lightly on the forehead.
She looked up at him and stared deep into his
eyes. "Thanks," she
sighed before turning to find the bedroom door. Once Chris heard the door shut, he fell onto the couch.
‘How are we going do this?’ he asked
himself. ‘How am I going to
do this?’ He ran his hands through
his thick black hair. If he had to
sleep with Rita for six nights, but know he wasn't really sleeping with her, he
would go out of his mind. It was
getting hard enough to keep his feelings hidden while trying to keep his
distance, but how would he do it after being so close to her, in such an
intimate place. But instead of
coming up with an answer to his many questions, Chris yawned, sleep finally
winning out over confusion. The
only answer he could come up with was that they would have to deal with it.
Chris trudged over to the door, ensuring that
it was locked, realizing that it didn't matter much since they were miles away
from civilization. He turned to
the table sitting next to the couch and shut the lamp off, plunging the room
into total darkness. Suddenly, a
crash followed by a "DAMMIT!" resonated through the room as Chris
picked the lamp up off the floor.
Luckily it wasn't made of ceramic, so it hadn't broken. Glancing in the direction of the
bedroom, he checked to make sure the commotion hadn't woken Rita. Satisfied that his partner was still
asleep, Chris hobbled into the bedroom, careful not to make too much
noise. He saw Rita laying there,
sound asleep, her even breathing echoing in the silence. He quietly slipped into the bed,
turning his back to her back, hoping this position would make it easier for him
to ignore her presence by his side.
But Rita however, had successfully fooled
Chris into thinking she was asleep, and it took every ounce of concentration
she possessed to keep from shivering as Chris lay down beside her. What she wouldn't give to just reach
over and massage his shoulders, kiss him softly.
Rita sighed inwardly. ‘What are you doing?’ she chided
herself. ‘Get it together before
you lose your best friend.’ She
closed her eyes and concentrated on the inner strength that had gotten her
through so many difficult situations in the past. Despite having her partner lying right beside her, Rita
relaxed for the first time in a week.
She drifted to sleep.
It took Chris a little longer to conquer his thoughts. He first replayed Rita's actions and
outbursts throughout the week, then mentally beat Eric to a pulp – several
times. Chris just couldn't fathom
how anyone could be so cruel to Rita.
In the safety of the darkness he was able to silently admit to himself,
and to her, that no one could ever love her like he did. ‘Knock it off,’ Chris ordered himself. Against their agreement, he became
Sergeant Christopher Lorenzo. Rita
was his partner and best friend.
They dodged bullets for a living.
He could definitely handle their current situation. Finally reaching this professional
mentality, Chris succumbed to exhaustion.
Unbeknownst to the slumbering Sams, the fates
had them right where they wanted them.
With a simple snap, the side of the snow crested mountain four miles
directly in front of the cabin began to slide.
Avalanche.
The raw, stalwart force of nature was
unleashed, tumbling and crashing down on a path of destruction. The mammoth firs that blocked its path
were snapped as if they were twigs.
The avalanche's fury eased as the wave of snow lost momentum, and neared
the cabin. The earth-shaking
disturbance was now a dull roar, and the small wooden structure provided just
enough resistance to halt the sea of snow. However, not before the facade and sides were completely
engulfed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Rita was first to awaken, the nagging feeling
that something wasn't right invading her peaceful sleep. Opening her eyes she realized what it
was: the room was too dim for it to be morning. She sat up as Chris rolled over so he was facing her. Rita watched him open his eyes and
smile at her – an act which would have completely unnerved her had it not been
for her cop instincts masking all other emotions.
"Good morning, Sunshine," Chris
exclaimed innocently to her.
Rita cocked her head and smirked at him. "No, actually that's the problem –
there is no sunshine. Oh my God,
Chris, it's noon!"
Chris was about to laugh at his partner's
worrying, but then a memory entered his consciousness. "S-Sam, did you happen to hear thunder
last night?"
After vaguely recalling that she had Rita
answered, "Yeah, I think so...why?" Her eyes widened before she even got the question out.
As if on cue, Chris and Rita sprang out of
bed, ran through the bedroom doorway, and stopped dead in their tracks upon
reaching the living room. The
gorgeous forest and mountain range view was simply gone. It had been completely erased and
replaced by a blank, white void which pressed up against the windows and
blocked the light from entering.
Rita sighed rather tentatively. "Chris, please tell me you can see
trees."
Chris opened and closed his mouth, but
couldn't manage a response.
"Okay," Rita tried again,
"then please tell me that there is frost blocking our view."
"Well, ah...there is," he replied,
trying to keep from laughing. But
upon making eye contact with Rita he lost it.
Rita took advantage of his weakened state to
attack his ribs, "You just had to say we were ‘stuck’ up here, didn't
you? Didn't you?!" She laughed as she continued her
assault, and Chris backed up into the side of the couch. They landed in a heap on the cushions
with Chris yelling "Mercy!"
In the process of becoming untangled, Rita
once again felt something pass between them. Chris felt it too, but before they could say or do anything
they fell off the couch and onto the floor. The fall temporarily jarred those thoughts from their minds.
"Remind me to never leave Florida
again," Rita remarked to the ceiling, as she and Chris remained sprawled
out on the floor.
Chris laughed as he stood up and offered a
hand to her. "Well, I guess all we can do is eat breakfast and start
another fire. Good thing I brought
in plenty of wood last night."
"Sam! How can you think of eating at a time like this? We have to figure a way out of this
place!" Rita said incredulously.
Chris gave her his puppy dog look and whined,
"But I'm hungry, Sam."
Rita managed to smile for his sake, but
inside her mind was screaming the reality of her situation. She had survived sleeping in the same
bed as Chris, how would she ever hide her feelings when they were literally
trapped in one of the most romantic dilemmas she could imagine? Rita desperately tried to fight the
tension and anxiety that were slowly rebuilding within her. As she helped Chris make “breakfast”
she tried to avoid any contact with him, and attempted to regain the mindset
that had helped her fall asleep the night before.
Breakfast was thankfully uneventful, as both
Chris and Rita were careful to keep the appearance that everything was normal.
They joked about two of Palm Beach's finest homicide detectives being able to
sleep through an avalanche – and sleep till noon at that. Their playful banter did help in
calming them, because it reminded them of old times. They had spent many a meal laughing and joking with each
other, and that playfulness was as essential to the two best friends as was
oxygen. In the spirit of that fun,
Chris volunteered to search the cabin for anything even remotely resembling a
game.
"Whaddya say, Sam? You up for a little Monopoly if I can
find it?"
"Monopoly, Sam? I haven't played Monopoly in
years."
"Then you, my friend, will be very easy
to beat," Chris teased as he sped out of the room before something could be thrown at him.
But the only thing being thrown his way was
Rita's challenge, "I'd like to see you try, Sam!"
Chris whistled happily as he searched the
closets in the bedroom and hallway for games. With surprisingly little concentration he could pretend this
was any other day, as he and Rita loved even the smallest competitions with
each other, and it was so easy to hide behind their competitive streaks. "Come on," he pleaded,
"there has to be some games in here.
Anything to keep my mind on track." He was only able to find Pictionary and a deck of cards, but
it was better than nothing.
"Here we go," he exclaimed
triumphantly. "Guess I'll
have to beat you at these instead, Sam."
"Hah, bring it on, Sam."
For the next couple of hours they sprawled
out in front of the fireplace, the main source of communication being shrieks
of laughter that accompanied the occasional picture disagreement.
"Chris, that is not the United
States."
"It is, too!"
“It is not."
"Is, too!"
"Yeah? Well, you ever heard of Florida?"
The game ended in Rita's favor after Chris
stuck his tongue out at her, and was teased some more.
"All right, lil miss, let's see you try
and beat me at blackjack."
"Excuse me partner, ‘try’? Who cleaned your clock and your wallet
of 50G's when we busted that illegal casino gambling ring?"
Too bad they weren't playing for money
because Rita proceeded to repeat that feat, as she spent a few more hours
beating Chris at blackjack, five-card stud, and five-card draw.
"No fair, Sam, you worked with a card
mechanic when you were in vice," Chris pouted.
"Well, since I am such a gracious
winner," Rita drawled, "I'll show you a trick or two if you'd
like."
She masterfully shuffled and bridged the deck
in true Vegas style, never breaking eye contact with Chris. With a wicked half-grin she fanned the
cards out on the floor, collapsed them back in, and set the deck down in front
of her awe-struck partner.
"Sam, you made that look so easy."
"Well, it is."
Chris took the cards and pretended he was
about to shuffle them. At the last
possible second he brought the deck up, bent the cards, and sent a stream of
them flying towards Rita. She
shrieked as she tried to ward off the attack, and grab the cards Chris still
held.
"Gimme those! And you wonder why you always have to take abuse from
me," she laughed. "Now,
do you want to learn or not?"
"Yes, ma'am, I do," Chris
responded, grinning like a little kid.
He picked up his mess, and handed the deck back to Rita.
"Thank you, Sam," she said,
playfully exasperated with her best friend. "See? Just
keep your hands in the shape of the deck."
Chris took the cards and shuffled fine, the
only part eluding him was keeping his hands correctly aligned for bridging.
"Here, try this," Rita offered,
maneuvering Chris' fingers around the deck. She kept her hands over his as he made the perfect bridge,
although also succeeding in interlocking their fingers. This simple act sent a wave of
electricity through both of them.
Rita slowly withdrew her hands and placed them in her lap. "Y-You're a natural, Sam,"
she stammered.
"Thanks, umm...I'll practice later. You finished playing?"
Rita quickly nodded her head, but said
nothing. Chris gathered up the
games and booked it down the hall.
Trying to clear the air, he joked, "Eat your heart out Hutch! Bet you he'd nevah think you could
teach me your tricks, Sam. Huh,
wonder what he'd say if he could catch a look at us now."
Again Rita did not comment. She simply moved from the floor to the
fireplace ledge, staring off at nothing in particular as her mind began racing
at Chris' last remark.
Chris sauntered back into the room. He was about to ask Rita a question,
but immediately recognized the blank look on her face. Chris could read Rita better than
anyone on this earth could, and he was curious as to what was keeping her so
deep in thought.
"Rita?" No
answer. "Ree-ta?" he
called to her again, smiling as she snapped out of her trance and looked up at
him. "You were a million
miles away," he continued, moving to sit beside her, "what were you
thinking about?"
Suddenly feeling self-conscious, Rita blushed
and stumbled over her reply.
"I was, ah – I was thinking about some old cases."
Chris laughed quietly as various memories
sprang to life in the forefront of his mind's eye, mapping out a collage that
made up some of the most fantastic times he and Rita had shared together. His smile took a mischievous twist as
he teased her, "I know, you were missing your phone-sex operator
cover." A few years before,
Rita had taken the place of a murdered Dream Girls operator, and Chris had
posed as a customer. He knew how
much she had detested that cover.
In true Rita-style, she threw him “the look,”
punched him jokingly on the arm, and countered, "yeah right, I miss that
as much as you miss Rocky – the long arm of the law."
Chris groaned as Rita's comment sent him back
in time to the Sterling Silver Club.
The male strip joint had become Chris' place of employment, as he went
undercover as Rocky, a male dancer.
Not only did he have to admit to the Captain and Rita that he couldn't
dance, but once he learned some "tricks of the trade" from an
ex-flame who had been a dancer herself, he then had to go on-stage at the
Sterling Silver. Chris cringed
just thinking about the huge crowd of whooping, whistling women. The case did have some perks, though. He and Rita had to pretend to make love
at a mansion provided by the club.
Coming back to present time, Chris was
staring at Rita, and she in turn was returning his gaze. Reading each other's thoughts, both of
them remembered that particular aspect of the case. Simultaneously they realized what they were doing, and
immediately pushed those images back, looking away from each other. Clearing his throat, Chris asked,
"Seriously, though, what cases were you thinking about?"
After just reliving their night at the
mansion, Rita couldn't stop a quick scoff from escaping her. "Actually," she began
sheepishly, looking deep into Chris' eyes for a split second, then looking away
again, "I was thinking about the first time we ever kissed."
"Ah, the Wellmans," Chris said, his
expression a cross between a nostalgic smile and his famous Lorenzo grin.
Rita sucked her breath in unconsciously. Chris was referring to their first
undercover assignment playing a married couple. It had also been the first time they were forced to put on a
show for a video camera, in order to keep their cover. Rita allowed her mind to take itself
back.
"There's a camera on the ceiling, I
think he's watching us," she had explained, after luring her confused
partner over to her, whipping the robe from his shoulders, and pushing the two
of them down onto the bed. Rita
remembered herself laughing at the whole "Jack and Muffin" situation. She also recalled her laughter suddenly
halting, as the trail of kisses she had planted on the side of her
"husband's" face led up to his mouth. In that instant their characters ceased to exist. For that brief moment, they allowed the
feelings they always kept suppressed to finally come to the surface. Chris had later admitted to the intensity
of their kiss, and tried to have Rita do the same. But the combination of years spent denying her true feelings
and the fear of losing her best friend had prevented Rita from admitting to
anything.
"No, Sam," Rita replied softly,
diverting her gaze even farther from her partner's face, to the wall beside
her. "I meant the very first
time we kissed. We were undercover
at the Cameron estate." She
paused, "we were best friends even way back then." Rita shook her head slowly, as if it
would give her the strength she needed to keep her voice from wavering.
"Just one case before, we were
sitting on a bathtub vowing to race each other to the nearest motel if we were
ever split up as partners. Then,
in the very next case, the same people who would split us up if we ever came to
our senses and acknowledged how we truly felt, put us in the position for our
first kiss." Green eyes
shimmering with the tears of mixed frustration and anger, turned to face clear,
questioning, blue eyes.
“How many times has this job given us the
chance to admit how we feel about each other, Chris? How many times have bullets threatened to separate us
forever – each time our hearts being ripped out at the very thought of one of
us not pulling through?!"
Through the dim, dusty air that surrounded
them, Chris looked on in awe as the fire of Rita's spirit flashed in her eyes.
She jumped up, unable to sit still any
longer. Clenching and unclenching
her hands she began to pace, gathering momentum for the continuation of her
explosion. Bringing her fists up
to eye level and letting them drop back down in frustration, Rita whipped back
around to face Chris. "And
look at us now! The Captain -
agh!"
Rita paused to calm down, taking a deep
breath to get back in control.
“The Captain,” she resumed, “wants to give us a break from work, check
out his beloved New York. ‘See ya
guys, you've earned this. Have fun
just the two of you away from civilization. Sleep well together, just remember Rule #1,
detectives!'"
Rita walked over and opened the door. "What a setup," she told the
snow that completely encompassed the doorway. Satisfied with her outburst she offered a frustrated smile,
their situation suddenly striking her as sarcastically funny. Still talking to the snow she
exclaimed, "A romantic little cabin with just one bed. The occupants stuck due to
avalanche." Dissolving into
defeated laughter Rita swung the door shut, lifted her head, and mockingly
yelled, "I HATE SNOW!"
For a brief moment, Chris, who had gone
through the entire whirlwind of emotions right along with his partner, could
only blink. Finally, his mind
catching up with Rita's, Chris burst into laughter. Staggering over to Rita he attempted to speak. "Do we feel better now?" he
blurted out in between laughs.
Rita responded by moving in to embrace
him. "Agh! I'm sorry, Chris," she giggled
into his chest. "For some
reason your comment about Hutch just sparked this whole wave of times that our
superiors have gotten us into messes like this. Bet you're sorry you ever asked what I was thinking,
huh?" Her laughter slowly
eased as Chris cupped her face with his hand, his thumb brushing away the
tears. This time, as blue eyes
locked with green, neither Chris nor Rita fought the trance that always
threatened to form between them.
All the love Chris possessed in his heart was reflected in his eyes, and
it took Rita's breath away. She
could only mirror his gaze with her own look of love, her heart and mind
granting approval for the first time in almost five years. No words were necessary. Everything that had gone unsaid for so
long was suddenly known, all fears were suddenly dispelled, and the Sams'
connection was the strongest it had ever been. For Chris and Rita were soul mates, sharing a bond that no
power in the universe could sever, destined to be together till the end of
time.
And time, for the moment, seemed to be
standing still. Not willing to break
with mere words the magical spell which enraptured them, Chris kissed Rita
tentatively, tasting her soft lips.
She responded, wrapping her arms around his neck, enticing him,
encouraging him to continue his exploration. The passion that had laid only semi-dormant for so many
years took over and he deepened the kiss, urging her mouth open. Rita complied, giving herself up to
him, to his gentle assault. She
couldn't believe what was happening. She felt as if she were in a haze,
dreaming the entire scenario. It
was too perfect to be real, yet at the same time, an impossible dream. There was no denying the feelings
anymore. They were there and they
were very real. Suddenly Chris
broke the kiss, tearing his lips away from hers.
Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he
smiled shyly at her. "I'm
sorry," he apologized.
"Your lips just looked so tasty." He hoped the light ribbing would ease the tension their
embrace had created. He was about
to say something else, something most likely poetic, but Rita stopped him,
silencing him with a passionate kiss, letting him know that talking was the
last thing on her mind. They had
spoken too much, about everything, and those conversations, while memories she would
cherish forever, memories of the friendship they had forged over the years, had
somehow stopped them from acting on raw emotion.
And that's exactly what this was ... raw
emotion. Pure sexual attraction
fueled by an all-encompassing love that had gone unexpressed for far too many
years. And while that love lay
simmering just below the surface, this experience was one of passion, the
inevitable realization of the hunger they had for each other.
This was one time, Rita promised herself, she
wouldn't over-analyze or rationalize the situation to no end. This was a moment to be seized, a
precious moment they would never get back.
Deciding to just go with the flow, Chris
slowly pushed her down onto the rug in front of the fireplace, not wanting to
waste a second of their valuable time finding a place to carry her. If her knew Rita as well as he thought
he did, he knew that every moment that went by without action was a moment Rita
would use to analyze their current situation. And while her analytical skills were useful in their field,
this was one instance where words were better left unsaid. Chris untangled his arms from around
her waist and slowly began exploring her soft body, running his hands under her
shirt. His touch was gentle yet
demanding at the same time, causing Rita to moan in pleasure. She wasted no time of her own, grabbed
the hem of his shirt, and wretched the material from his body, throwing it
behind them somewhere, not really caring where it landed.
Chris mimicked her actions, doing the same
with her shirt, tossing it with just as much disinterest as to its final
destination. Clothes were the last
thing on their minds. Rita smiled
in appreciation as Chris moved his kisses from her mouth to her neck, burying
his face in the shallow recesses of her throat.
"Chris," she sighed breathlessly,
unsure of what to do or say next.
This was it. Things would
never be the same. But instead of
that thought scaring Rita, it somehow comforted her. It gave the promise of a future filled with love and
happiness. Chris came back up to
her and looked into her shining green eyes, unsure of what to say, the urge to
mutter something romantic nagging at his mind. "Rita," his throaty whisper began "this is so
right. I've wanted this for so
long, I've wanted this from the first time I saw you and I know this is –
"
Rita silenced him yet again, placing delicate
fingers over his lips.
"Chris," she said gently, "not now. We'll have plenty of time to talk
later. Right now is about you and
me .... us," she quietly added.
"Right now all I want you to do is make love to me. We can talk about the rest
later." She ended her
statement with a kiss to show him just how serious she was. Suddenly, there was no denying his
passion for her, Rita felt it. He
kissed her again, a little more demanding this time, starting at her lips and
working his way down to the sensitive skin between her breasts.
Rita leaned her head back, exposing her throat, trying desperately to
catch her breath. They had just
begun, yet already Chris, the man who had been her best friend for five years,
had awaken feelings in her that she wasn't aware existed. This was right, they both knew it. But they both also knew this would
change everything, complicate matters.
However, that didn't matter to either of them as they both realized just
how powerful true love actually was.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chris awoke the next morning to the cold
silence of the living room. The
fire they had started the previous day had burnt out in the middle of the
night, dimly glowing embers the only remaining proof of the blaze’s
existence. He tightened his arms
around his still sleeping partner, inhaling the scent of the room. The fresh mountain atmosphere was crisp
and cool in the morning, lending a promising air to the day ahead. Rita’s back lay against Chris’ chest
and his head was nestled comfortably on her shoulder as he gently nuzzled her
neck. After this failed attempt to
wake her, he smiled, realizing just how tired she must have been. They had made love well into the early
morning hours, neither willing to leave the comfort of the other’s body. Unfortunately for the passionate
couple, sleep beckoned, weariness overcoming desire.
Chris buried his head in Rita’s hair, letting
the freesia scent overtake him. He
had always enjoyed the scent of her hair and at least twice on the job had told
her how good she smelled. Deciding
it was time to wake her, he gently ran kisses from the nape of her neck to her
smooth shoulders. His hands,
wrapped securely around her waist, slowly began to wander over her now familiar
body. “Sam,” he whispered in her
ear, taking the opportunity to nibble her earlobe softly. Rita moaned quietly, the urge to keep
her eyes closed too great.
“Rita, wake up,” Chris tried again. This time she stirred slightly. Chris gave it one last try. He moved his hand back to her waist,
running his fingertips up and down her leg. Rita’s eyes slowly opened in response to the gentle massage,
the edges of her lips curving into an unmistakably sensual grin. Deciding to tease him a bit, she
brushed her slender body against a highly sensitive part of his aroused
anatomy. She felt his response and
giggled. Turning around to face
him, she kissed him, first on the neck, then lightly on the chin, and finally
fully on the lips.
“Morning, Chris,” she whispered before
claiming his lips a second and third time. “How’d you sleep?” she joked,
knowing full well what his answer would be.
“Sleep?!” he exclaimed, mock disbelief
invading his tone. “Rita, I didn’t
get much sleep last night. Some
insensitive woman kept me awake,” he teased, softly kissing her neck.
“Well, that wasn’t very nice of her, now was
it?” she laughed, sliding her arms around his neck, pulling his mouth closer,
enticing him.
“No, it certainly wasn’t,” Chris laughed,
releasing her lips. “But I really
didn’t mind it all that much. She
didn’t get much sleep either, so we’re even.”
Rita giggled, wrapping his arms around her,
resting his hands on her abdomen, covering his hands with her own. “We should get up, Chris,” she sighed.
“God, why, Rita? We’ll most likely end up right back here anyway.”
“Well, I would hope we would use the bed next
time instead of the floor, Sam,” Rita pointed out lightly.
“You mean you didn’t like where we ended up
after our torrid night of passion?” he laughed.
“No, it was fine,” she sighed. Rita rested her head against his chest,
slowly running her fingers across her muscular pillow.
“Wow,” Chris laughed after a few moments of
silence. Rita warily lifted her
head and stared at him questioningly.
“What?”
“Uh, nothing,” he grinned, tightening his
arms around her.
Rita straightened up a bit and asked again,
“What are you thinking about?”
“Just remembering last night....and this
morning,” he added, causing Rita to blush slightly. Chris took her completely by surprise with his next
question.
“So…” he began nervously. He’d never asked any woman what he was
about to ask Rita, but it seemed different with her. He just had to know.
Clearing his throat before continuing, he quietly asked, “Sam, was it
good for you?” He felt an
embarrassing blush warm his cheeks as soon as the words left his mouth. It was one of those questions that you
regretted asking the instant you had asked it.
Rita was about to laugh until she saw the
look on his face. There was a
combination of apprehension and embarrassment etched in his face and shining in
his eyes.
“Oh, Chris,” she sighed, caressing his cheek
lovingly. Instead of replying to
his question she reached up and kissed him softly. “Do you know how much I love you?”
“I love you, too,” he echoed sincerely.
“And I am happier at this moment than I have
ever been before.”
“So am I,” he agreed. Her avoidance of his question was
beginning to worry him. He pulled
her closer to him, caressing her back as he patiently waited for her answer.
“Chris, it was wonderful,” she finally
whispered. “I haven’t felt this
wonderful in a long time.”
“I know what you mean,” he quietly
agreed. This was getting a bit too
serious for him, considering they were both laying on the floor wearing nothing
more than silly love-struck grins.
“So,” he cleared his throat, pulling her closer to him, “maybe we should
get up. Take a shower, and see if
maybe we can get outside.” He
finished the suggestion with a kiss on the side of her neck, sending chills of
pleasure down her spine.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Climb on up, Rita!”
Rita looked warily at her best friend. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“Unless you want to be the one on the bottom.”
Rita gazed up at the skylight, which suddenly
seemed much higher, and back down to Chris who stood ready to boost her onto
his shoulders. “B&E with a
twist,” she sighed. “Breaking and
exiting,” she added off of Chris’ puzzled look.
Hoisted in the air, standing perilously on
Chris’ shoulders, Rita strained against the weight of the snow that was pressed
tight to the skylight. “It’s no
use. There’s still too much snow.”
Chris moved backwards, eliciting a surprised
cry from Rita.
“Not a single crack about a Flying Walinda, Lorenzo.” Rita walked her hands along the up-sloping ceiling within her reach, steadying herself. “Take a step toward that crossbeam.”
“Rita?”
“Trust me, Chris.”
Chris did as he was instructed, and felt Rita
remove her legs from his tight grasp.
He stared up at his partner who was literally swinging from the
rafters. He couldn’t help but to
laugh at the playful giggle and impish glow that lit up her face. “Well, see ya’, Rita. I think I’ll go take a nap.”
“No, no, no!” Rita exclaimed, trying to stop laughing before her grip
slipped. “Catch me?”
Chris moved to stand in position. “Ready?”
“Ready!”
Rita released the beam, and Chris caught her
by the waist. She slid the rest of
the way down his muscular frame, keeping her arms around his neck and locking
onto his lips as they passed.
Separating from him, she remarked, “you have got to try that!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dressed in thick sweaters and jeans, Chris
and Rita lay wrapped up in a blanket on the couch together. The fire was relatively small, as they
were rationing their wood supply, but the temperature and ambiance inside the
small cabin was still very cozy.
Rita was awake, and perfectly content to stay entranced by the dancing
orange flames, listening to Chris’ even breathing and feeling his arms wrapped
around her. Chris stirred in his
sleep, and Rita turned to him, lovingly raking her nails through his thick black
hair as he quieted. She laughed
softly and reached for the worn book that was laid out on the end table.
Love through the Ages.
The title had beckoned her wistfully the
previous day, but now that she felt more in the mood to celebrate love, she
could give in to her inquisitiveness.
Carefully opening the cover, she skimmed
through the table of contents.
Ancient Egypt, Ancient China, The Greeks… Rita’s gaze immediately leapt to a story under Greek Mythology,
simply entitled Soul Mates.
She flipped to starting page and began to read.
In the beginning, all people had two heads and four legs.
But then the gods threw down thunderbolts, and split
everyone into two.
The separation left each half with a desperate yearning
to be reunited...
For you see, they each shared the same soul.
And to this day, all people spend their lives, searching...
For the other half of their soul.
Rita brought her head up, quickly blinking away the tears beginning to pool in her eyes. Under control once more, she continued reading the beautiful explanation. A soft cry escaped her as she came to the final line:
For it was their destiny...and they were lost
to it.
Rita slowly closed the book, and returned it to its spot on the table. She laid her head down on Chris’ chest, tears streaming, lost in a sea of emotions that words simply couldn’t define.
Soul mates…
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Day three began in much the same as the
previous two: Chris and Rita woke up next to each other. They took their breakfast in the living
room, talking quietly as they tried to wake up. Chris glanced over Rita’s head at the wall, and suddenly
dropped his fork.
“Sam!” he cried. He whipped around to look behind him, staring up at the
skylight. He looked back to the
wall. “There’s light coming in!”
Rita, barely having time to process what
Chris had said, was pulled to her feet and dragged back to the bedroom.
“Come on, gal! Get dressed!
You’ve got some climbing to do!”
Freedom from the confines of the cabin began
with Rita climbing out onto the roof, and Chris moving furniture around so he,
too, could reach the skylight.
Rita shielded her eyes from the sun, and gazed out at the snowy spread around
them. Before she knew what hit
her, Chris tackled her to the ground – well, roof.
“Sam!”
She admonished.
“Ever wanted to make out on the roof of a
cabin, Rita?” he growled playfully, nuzzling her neck and nipping her earlobe.
“Christopher,” Rita began, squirming out of
his grasp, though not too much.
“This would be a slightly harder fall than from off the couch.”
Chris backed away from her, his eyes gleaming
mischievously. “Do you trust me,
Rita?”
“Chr-is…”
He pulled her up to her feet. “Do you trust me?” he asked
again.
Rita narrowed her eyes at him, trying to
guess what he was planning. “Y-es…”
“Then hang on!” And with that he dragged her with him to the edge of the
roof. The snow had receded in back
of the cabin, leaving a perfect drift – only a few feet lower than the roof –
which eventually sloped down to ground level.
“Chris, wait –”
“Ready?”
“No, I –”
“JUMP!”
Two grown adults leapt from the roof, sliding
down a mound of snow, ever gaining momentum till they reached to bottom and
rolled over and over.
“Hah!” Chris laughed. “That was great!” He got up and brushed himself off. He looked to Rita, and instantly
regretted the motion.
All he saw was her windup and pitch – and a
ball of white coming whizzing toward his face. He couldn’t duck.
“Oh, this means war, lil miss!”
And back and forth they went. Who knew how useful all those Palm
Beach PD qualifying obstacle courses could be as strategy in snowball
fighting. When Chris and Rita
eventually wound down, they collapsed into the snow that had served them so
well as ammunition. A short
recovery period and two snow angels later, they were off to the shed to
retrieve some shovels so they could unbury their front door.
“Sam, I’m beat!” Chris exclaimed as he and Rita lugged armloads of logs over
to the fireplace.
Rita trudged back over to shut the door,
eyeing it warily in distrust, and chuckled at how she and her partner were
feeling. “We’re getting old,
Sam. We can’t even tolerate a
single afternoon playing outside.”
They possessed just enough energy to build a
fire and strip off each other’s wet clothing. Grabbing the blanket off the couch, they curled up on
their favorite rug in front of the blaze, and drifted to sleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Silvery moonlight illuminated the wooded
wonderland of snow and ice with brightness rivaling that of day. An uncanny stillness encompassed the
crystallized world, as if time itself had also been frozen. There was no breeze to be felt, yet the
trees made slight movements, heard but unseen, echoing the glasslike timbre of
the ice encasing each individual pine needle or leaf-barren branch. It was an enchantment as magical to the
city-dwelling, Florida natives as it was foreign.
The Sams strolled along silently, hand in
hand, enjoying the new sensation of gloves that separated them from direct
contact. A lone howl resounded in
the distance, bringing them out of their reverie to pause in wide-eyed fascination.
Upon resuming their leisurely pace, Rita
spoke up. “Chris, I want to
apologize to you again for the way I’ve acted the past few weeks.”
“Rita, you don’t have to explain anything.”
“Yes, Sam, I do. My emotions have been like a rollercoaster. They’ve been out of control.” Rita took a deep breath, and continued,
“I’ve been in love with you since the moment I first saw you, Chris. We had a
connection I’ve never felt before, and we were instantly best friends. The more times we shared, the more I
loved you…the more I relied on your friendship. To lose that friendship would have destroyed me. You’ve always been there to pick up the
pieces of my life, and after this mess with Eric ended, my feelings for you had
nothing to hide behind. I’d be fine
one minute, then the simplest look or touch from you would set those feelings
off. I'd be angry with myself for
risking our friendship, so I’d push you away. But then I still had to turn to you because you’re my best
friend, you know?”
“Yeah, Sammy, I know,” Chris whispered. “I thought I was in love with Jillian,
but after she asked me to move with her to Boston everything changed. I realized that her asking me to start
a whole new life for her didn’t bother me nearly as much as the fact that she
was essentially asking me to leave you.
How did she think I could do that?
You’re a part of me, Rita; I could never survive without you. And I knew my rage toward Eric went
beyond him hurting my best friend.
I’d find myself vowing that I could be the one to treat you the way you
deserve to be treated. Right then
and there I knew I couldn’t lie to myself anymore...I didn’t just ‘love’ you, I
was ‘in love’ with you. And I’ve
been in love with you all along...
You own my heart, Rita, you always have.”
As the couple shared a sweet embrace and
passionate kiss, a second howl permeated the night. Chris cocked his head as he listened to the ghostly
bay. “I don’t know about you, Sam,
but I think I’ve had enough of nature.”
At Rita’s affirmative nod and giggle he turned them around and headed
back in the direction of the cabin.
“Come on, Sammy, I’ll tuck you in and tell you a bedtime story about the
rabbit in the moon – the real reason why coyotes howl at the moon.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chris and Rita stood on opposite sides of the
bed, packing their respective suitcases.
Well, they were actually alternating between packing and throwing things
at each other. And when they
weren’t throwing things at each other they were playfully arguing over the
different ways men and women pack.
Rita snickered as she watched Chris rearrange
the contents of his suitcase a third time. “See, Chris? I
told you there was a system.” She
collapsed into the chair that was up against the wall. Bringing one knee up to rest her hands
and chin on, she just watched him.
Chris eventually looked up to find Rita
regarding him with an amused yet somehow serious expression. For a moment he was hypnotized by her
gorgeous eyes, by her sly smile, by her overall regal beauty. Chris felt his heart swell in his
chest. God, he loved her.
“What?” he inquired, returning the smile.
Rita, for her part, did not reply right
away. She was lost in her love for
her best friend turned lover. Her
smile finally widened and she exclaimed simply, “I’m just so glad you talked me
into coming up here, Chris. If you
hadn’t...” Rita left the sentence
unfinished. She then shook her
head in humble and grateful fascination.
“It took an avalanche to bring us together.”
“That way we couldn’t run anymore Rita,”
Chris stated softly. “And we nevah
do things on a small scale anyway!”
Rita laughed. “This is true,” she agreed.
With the same volition they moved around the
bed and met each other in a tender embrace, allowing a cascade of love to wash
over them.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“The luggage is all packed up; I’m going to
go warm up the car, Rita,” Chris called.
“Thanks, Sam. I’ll be out in a sec.” Rita zipped up her dufflebag and took one last look around the bedroom. Her eyes swept over the rest of the cabin as she headed for the front door, not only to check if she was forgetting anything, but also to memorize every last detail. Making sure the door would lock behind her, Rita slipped on the sunglasses that were hanging around her neck and stepped outside into the sunlight. She caught Chris smiling at her from the car and realized she would never feel alone again. “For it was their destiny and they were lost to it,” she whispered to herself. Rita lifted her gaze to the heavens, and whispered a heartfelt “thank you,” closing the door to the cabin .....
….. but not to her heart.
A word from the sponsors:
D of DA, here. *Coughing on dust*
This is really a relic, folks!
Dani and Amy F joined forces WAAAAAAY back in 1997 to become The DA’s
Office. ‘The Snowball Effect,’ however, remained incomplete, missing what
turned out to be only four pages before the already written, final two. With
the blessing of A of DA (and the command of the Resauthor;), I have finished
the production started so many years ago.
Had it not been for my mahvelous partner and ‘TSE,’ I would never have become
a solo author. And speaking of my
partner, A of DA would love to add her own comments, but currently she locked
away in our office: ready to prosecute a very strong case against the
creators/writers of Classic Silk, Forever Knight, The X-Files, and JAG (to name
a few). Rest assured, The DA’s Office
is working very hard to protect future television favorites from suffering such
outrageous, contemptible character (both person and personality) assassinations.
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