From: regan1016@bestsd.sdsu.edu (T. ELIZABETH HARVEY)
Subject: Re: Elizabeth & Me (That smile ...)
News-Software: VAX/VMS VNEWS 1.4-b1  
Organization: San Diego State University - Dept. of Redundancy Dept.
Date: Mon, 7 Sep 1992 01:04:00 GMT

Kimmy adds:
>******************************************************************************
>Kimmy's editorial comments will be enclosed in asterisks
>******************************************************************************
>==============================================================================
>Elizabeth's comments will be enclosed in equality symbols
>==============================================================================
>Prolog: (By Kimmy)
> 
>Ok.  Let's see.  Never been very romantic with a stranger.  Let's say we have
>a relationship.  Makes the setting easier.  You're hard at work at your desk.
>Outside your window the afternoon sky is so blue it almost hurts your eyes.
>You remember how sweet the air tasted as you walked back from a lonely lunch.
>If there was only an excuse to check out early and enjoy it.  Your thoughts
>drift back to simpler times when being together was all we had ...  A knock
>at your office door brings you grudgingly back to reality.  With a sigh you
>invite the intruder in.  The door opens and a huge bouquet of Fire & Ice
>proceeds a tall, well built man into the room.  His jet black hair, frosted
>now at the temples, is just as thick & wavy as it was in High School.  Long
>lashes, full red lips, wide shoulders, strong arms, piercing brown eyes.   
>You can feel the corners of your mouth go up in that special smile reserved
>only for him ...

>                    ---+=== Kimmy ===+---
> 
>...... That smile.  Nothin' like it in the world.  Makes me feel like I do some-
>times when I watch a baby sleeping or like the thrill I get at the stadium
>on a perfect fall afternoon.  It's never the same twice but it's always
>wonderful.  As she is.  That's why I gave her the flowers.  She always smiles
>for flowers ...
> 
>*******************************************************************************
>Ok girl it's all yours.  I bet you wonder why I'm not at work and what the 
>flowers are for and what I've got up my sleeve ... 
>*******************************************************************************
>===============================================================================
>I'm having reservations about this, but I dug this hole for myself ... 
>Here goes nothing ...
>===============================================================================
> 
>                       ===+--- Elizabeth ---+===
> 
>Made speechless by the gorgeous bouquet, I smile, walk over to him, and hug 
>him tightly.  Such beautiful flowers ... these babies weren't cheap.  They 
>look so out of place in this tiny, cluttered office.  But at least they 
>won't be in the eyesight of the rest of the newsroom.  I almost breathe an 
>inner sigh of relief before realizing that he had to walk *through* the 
>newsroom to get here, attracting the attention of every female in the 
>place.  And why shouldn't he?  He's classically handsome, the type of man 
>that most young girls dream of when they fantasize about a knight in 
>shining armour ... the prototype of the perfect hero, as described and 
>chronicled in oh-so-many romance novels.  The kind of man women love to 
>watch, love to dream about, and would kill to meet.
> 
>I let go of him, close the door and try to give him a reassuring smile, 
>wondering all the while if he can see through me.  Does he see the fear in 
>my eyes?  The fear that I am just dreaming, and when I wake up, he'll be 
>gone, off cavorting with some Cindy Crawford-type, while I languish in my 
>studio?
>I take the bouquet in one hand, and his hand in the other.  "You are so 
>full of surprises ... should you be off doing something terribly 
>important?"  I'm surprised how lilting my voice sounds, not shaky like the 
>rest of me ... Dear God, why is this man with me?  I'm just a naive, dowdy, 
>shy ... *girl* (God help me, when will I become a woman?) with weird tastes 
>and behaviours and the like.  If it wasn't for the fact I could see his 
>intelligence and sensitivity the moment I laid eyes on him, I would have 
>ran from his sight.  Foolish person I am, I didn't, and now I'm overwhelmed 
>.... can't he see how mismatched we are?
> 
>Nonetheless, I squeeze his hand and look into his eyes ...
> 
>                          ---+=== Kimmy ===+---
>..... If she only knew how that simple hug made every atom of my being vibrate.
>How the scent of her hair turns my soul into a battlefield, where Reason wars
>with Instinct, over Will.  How the curve of her sleeping back bathed in silent
>moonlight declares the genius of The Divine Artist.  Yeah, if she saw how
>really incomplete I would be without her.  Then I would be truly vulnerable.
>I wonder how long 'till she realizes how utterly enslaved I am?  Can this
>kind of happiness last for long?  Can a seraphim like this really love a mere
>mortal?  Please God, let it be so! ... "I am doin' somethin' important!
>Takin' my best girl for a drive in the country on the most awesome afternoon
>I've seen in ages" ... Before she can protest I lead her out of the office. As
>we walk through the chattering newsroom, Pride, well seasoned with Jealousy,
>forces a smile onto my face as I notice all the young office studs following
>her with their eyes.  I know what they're thinkin'.  Well too bad boys.  For
>today anyway, she's mine!  I open the passenger door of the Bugatti for her
>and help her in.  Man, this car was created for her!  I laugh to myself when
>I think how this machine, this ... thing ... was the central object of my
>affection before I met Elly!  As I close my door and reach for the ignition,
>I turn to her and say ... "Hey, did I tell you that I love you today ?" ...
> 
>******************************************************************************
>Hey Elizabeth.  Man your doin' great.  Don't be nervous.  You set the ground
>rules and I'll follow 'em.  The only thing *I* ask is no graphic sex scenes.
>Inuendo and implictation are lots more fun anyway!  We can stop anytime you
>want.  It's fun so far though!  Oh yeah, please correct any spelling, or
>grammar mistakes you find.  I'm not too hot in that area.  I'll keep out the
>nasty ">" characters and look after the format.
>******************************************************************************
>==============================================================================
>Whatever you say, Kimmy ... but I am still nervous about this ... *sigh*
>==============================================================================
> 
>                    ===+--- Elizabeth ---+===
> 
>I stare into his eyes for a full five seconds, paralyzed like a deer in the 
>headlights of an oncoming car.  Then I smile, give him a little wink, pat 
>his hand and say, "Why, I believe you did, darling ... this morning before 
>I left.  Don't you remember?"  I reach up and flirtatiously tap his right 
>temple.  "Getting absent-minded in our later years?  You know what they 
>say: the mind is the *second* thing to go..."
>Whew, I'm thinking ... quite the little actress I seem to be.  I can tell 
>by his broad jovial smile that he has no idea how much his declaration 
>unsteadied me.  My insides have never shuddered so hard than when he 
>said 'I love you' ... everytime he says, 'I love you.'  It's not that I 
>don't care about him.  I think I care too much about him.  It's simply that 
>when I see him saying 'I love you', he looks as if he should be saying that 
>to someone else and not me.  And I care about him so much that I don't want 
>him to make a mistake ... namely, falling for me.  Am I wrong to question 
>whether I'm the right person for him?  Whether he's the right person for 
>me?
>Just as I'm pulling my hand back, he says, "Well, I don't care how many 
>times I've said before ... I love you, Elly."  Then, he quickly pulls me to 
>him and kisses me softly.  The touch of his lips on mine brings back the 
>memory of last night, where he literally swept me off my feet, yet again.  
>He was and is my first lover, but I can tell he's quite experienced.  I 
>sigh softly as the memory of his caresses over my body flood my mind.  And 
>how he *insisted* I spend the night at his place ... and how I woke up in 
>his arms and had to extricate myself, just so I could get back to my place 
>and get ready for work.  And just when I make my escape from the 
>love-tangle our bodies were in, his eyes half-open, he smiles, and then 
>mumbles, 'I love you ...' before dropping back into sleep.
>At that reminiscence, I pull away reluctantly from his lingering soft kiss. 
>"We're going out to the country?"
>He looks at me and smiles, while turning the ignition key.  "Absolutely, 
>love.  Picnic basket, blankets, classical music.  The works ... for just 
>you and me."
>"But what about ..."
>"Don't worry about anything ... anything at all.  Everything has been taken 
>care of ... just trust me."
>This man knows me too well.  Then again, it's none too hard to figure that 
>someone who has lived their entire life in the midst of urban sprawl would 
>find more natural settings fascinating.  Wait ... I misspoke.  I truly 
>wonder if he knows me that well; but he knows how to sweep me off my feet 
>every chance he gets.  He seems to devote *so* much time and energy to 
>trying to please me ... I've never been wooed so hard in my life.  It's so 
>frightening, and I could turn my back on it so easily, if it was for the 
>person I see behind the designer lifestyle: the man who can truly make me 
>laugh, even on the worst of days ... the guy who doesn't mind talking on 
>and on about politics and literature and experiences and life in general 
>... the man whose eyes lit up like a little boy's when I hugged him, and 
>told him I would stay the night after we finished making love.  It is that 
>man who keeps me from jumping out of this ridiculously over-priced, 
>too-trendy car.  It's that man who makes it so hard for me not to tell him 
>I love him ...
>"Of course I trust you ..."
>"Then, we are off!"
>I buckle my seatbelt and smile, as we take off for the hinterlands.  He 
>takes my hand and squeezes it gently, and I play with it for the duration 
>of our drive ...
> 
>******************************************************************************
>You're very talented Elizibeth.  There is nothing to be nervous about in
>that respect.  Did you read Julie's commentary on the story so far?  It was
>really positive.  Maybe it's the fact that we don't know each other that is
>causing the anxiety.  But that makes it all the more fun!  I can be anything
>you want me to be and vice versa.  But since we're really two different
>people the story doesn't get too predictable.  So far it's a great vehicle!
>For instance Elly's trepidation and reluctance to let herself be loved was
>an excellent surprise!  And the way you interpreted the "Bugati" as a "Too
>Trendy" automobile was unexpected.  I was imagining a Type-34 Bugati which
>is an open roaster made before WWII !  Of course "ridiculously priced" would
>be applicable.  Oh yeah, and "Designer Lifestyle" was way cool!  Not me at
>all.  It'll be interesting to see if I can stay in character.  Relax and have
>fun!  I mean that's the whole idea right ?
> 
>Hey if other folks are reading this how 'bout a critique thread ...
>******************************************************************************
> 
>                          ---+=== Kimmy ===+---
> 
>.... As I pull the Bug easily out into the light afternoon traffic and point
>it towards the mountains, my mind is drawn away slightly from the memory of 
>last night.  A memory fired anew by the taste of her mouth and scent of her
>skin.  Activating the CD player, I look over at her lithe body, curled up in
>the seat beside me.  The wind in her hair, framed by the soft autumn sunlight
>makes her look like a fairy princess.  But that distant look in her eyes.
>The way she retreats from my embrace sometimes.  What is she afraid of?  Who
>hurt this beautiful woman so badly that she can't ever let her guard down.
>I quess it's part of the mystery that surrounds her, and draws me like a moth
>to her candle.  As the miles roll by we barely speak.  The mood set by the
>the sky, and the wind and the music seems to shun conversation.  Songs like,
>'Hundreds of Tears', 'Head & Heart', 'Assassin of Love' and 'Stay' mix with
>the mechanical music of the T-34 as we wind ever higher into the mountains.
>As the shadows lengthen and the air thins, I feel a shiver run through her
>slim but powerful arm.  Without a word I reach under the seat and take out
>my flight jacket.  She smiles and pulls it around her shoudlers.  Not far
>now.  Just as I start up the road leading to the beautiful bed & breakfast
>(where I've planned to bring her since the first day we met) the CD starts to
>spin out "I want you"  by Concrete Blonde:
> 
>It's been a long, long time
>And too many miles
>Of handshaking strangers
>Parading there smiles
>Of all the faces that come and go
>The only one I really wanna know ...
>    
>I want you ...  I want you.
>    
>And all the people they never stop.
>Their talking, their parot talk.
>But your voice is clear,
>Through the noise in my ear,
>So what?
>Can believe I could feel this way.
>The only one way I know how ta say.
>    
>I want you ...  I want you.
>  
>But time marches on,
>And it kicks us aside
>And they say we have time
>But ya' know that they lie ...
> 
>I want you ... I want you.
> 
>I know you don't need to be
>Caught in between my extreme
>But you've shown me things,
>That I so need to see.
>So believe when I say to you,
>That where I am,
>I'd rather be with you.
> 
>I want you ... I want you ...
> 
>Pulling up to the inn I flick off the ignition and turn to Elly, wondering if
>she knows how the words of the song have such a special meaning for me.  How
>many 'handshaking strangers' I've been through to find her.  "Well, here we
>are ..."
> 
>******************************************************************************
>By the way Elizabeth, I think I'll split the story into a second file after
>your next reply to keep it from gettin' to hard to weed through.  What do
>ya' think ?
>******************************************************************************
==============================================================================
Very good idea ... and, I had never heard of a Bugati ... I figured it some 
model of Porsche or Ferrari that I didn't know about ;).
==============================================================================

[*Elizabeth*]
I open my eyes, the spell weaved by the Concrete Blonde song beginning to 
wear off, as I sit curled up in his flight jacket, inhaling the traces of 
his cologne ... Polo, one of my favourites.  I glance over and smile at 
him, then turn my attention to the large, two-story Colonial house we 
have parked in front of.  Pastel blue, with white trim, a large front porch 
with a swing, and two sheltering elms on each side the porch, the house is 
a picture-perfect specimen of American bed-&-breakfast inns.  The white 
sign on the front identify it as The Ross Inn.
I turn to look at him, my mouth slightly agape, but he has already gotten 
out of the car and is bounding over to the passenger side to open my door.
When in shock, I tend to ask stupid questions.  Thus, the following 
exchange:
    "Kim, what is this place?"
    "What does it look like, Elly?"  I sense he's enjoying my bemusement.
    "Ummm ... it looks like a B&B."
    "And so it is ... according to the sign, at least."  Oh, great.  He's 
using my best weapon against me.
    "Kim ...."
    "Well, I certainly made sure it was a B&B before I placed the 
reservations, so don't worry ..."
My eyes widen.  "Reservations??"
    "Yes, silly ... reservations ... one does need to place reservations in 
order to spend the weekend here."
    "Weekend?!  You didn't say anything about the weekend ... I have work 
to catch up on ... cleaning ... I have no clothes!"
He tries to stifle a smile, but fails as he pulls me into his arms and 
kisses me on the forehead.  "Now, you said earlier you trusted me ..."
     "That was before you shanghai-ed me."  I shoot him a cool look, which 
he utterly ignores while chuckling.
     "I told you I took care of *everything* ..."  The confidence always 
displayed on his face falters a moment, and I see a trace of vulnerability 
and worry, even in the fading light of dusk.  "Are you very upset?"
I feel something inside me melt, as I whisper, "No, not really ... it's 
very sweet, actually."
He breaks into a beatific smile, before pulling me closer and placing his 
lips on mine.  The warmth of his kiss chases off the slight chill I was 
feeling, and I put my arms around him.  The kiss deepens and my senses are 
overwhelmed by him, the sight, sound, smell, taste, and touch of him.  
Before becoming completely intoxicated by this, however, an inner voice 
snaps, "GET SOME CONTROL!"  I turn my head to pull away, but he continues to 
hold me close, kissing my cheek all the way across and down to my neck, 
which he nuzzles sensuously.  A soft moan escapes my lips and I almost lose 
my resolve to cease this.  "Kim?"
     "Mmmmm?"
     "What now?"
     "Well, you let me unbutton your blouse, and then--"
     "Kim!  What about getting the rooms?  The picnic?  What am I going to 
do about clothes ..." I blush deeply.
He smiles and looks me in the eye.  "Okay ..."  He then fingers the first 
button on my blouse as he kisses me again, briefly.  Walking to the back of 
the car, he opens the trunk and pulls out two travel bags and a large 
picnic basket.  He holds up the deep-blue bag.  "This is yours ... I hope 
everything fits ... the tags are still on every item."
     "You bought clothing for me?"
     "Yep ... oh, don't look at me like that, Elly ... it was no bother.  
And yes, I do expect you to accept my generousity, because I'm not being 
that generous ... on the contrary, I'm being quite selfish by whisking you 
away so that I can have you all to myself ..."  He grins while my cheeks 
burn.
We enter the inn, and he goes to the inobtrusive front desk, while I admire 
the interior.  I walk over just in time to hear the nice, matronly lady 
hand Kim a key and say, "We hope you enjoy your stay here."  Kim smiles and 
nods agreeably, turns to face me.  I smile.  "Where's my key?"
     "Your key?"
     "To my room ..."
     "Your room ... hmmm ... well, you see, dear ... my room is your room 
and vice versa."  He grins awkwardly.  I don't rush to conclusions.
     "So, we're in a suite?"
He shakes his head slowly.  "No ... just one room ... just one bed ... 
king-sized."  He punctuates that sentence with a less-awkward grin.  
Meanwhile, a middle-aged man walks by, tips his hat, and takes our bags 
upstairs.  Kim is still holding the picnic basket.
I try to get my eyes back to normal size before they dilate.  He smiles and 
puts his arm around my shoulders, stroking my arm.  I sigh deeply.  He puts 
the basket down and takes my face in his hands.  I try to speak, but he 
places a finger on my lips and mouths the words, 'Trust me'.  I hug him and 
whisper, "Okay, okay ...", even though my heart is racing.  I look into his 
face and smile.  "Well, what are we going to do with that picnic basket?"

---<--<-{@ | "I believe that before all else, I am a reasonable human being,
Elizabeth  | just as you are -- or, at all events, that I must try and 
	   | become one." _A Doll's House_, Henrik Ibsen
Newsgroups: alt.romance.chat