Stealing Home (M/B, PG)
Posted: Fri Dec 11, 2009 1:23 am
Title: Stealing Home
Author: redwinter101
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I don't own Moonlight or any of its characters
Note: this story follows on from Homecoming, which was based on an AU story idea by sabazzz. If you haven't read that, here's a little summary: at the end of Sonata, Mick didn't go back. He kept on walking down that hallway and out of Beth's life for five years, during which time he moved to New York and Beth had a daughter, Andi. Finally, a case brought them back together and this story is set a few months later. Marta is Beth's live-in friend/housekeeper/surrogate grandmother to Andi. And she's Polish.
Although this isn't a Christmas story, it is in holiday spirit of fluff, fluff and more fluff.
That's it! Hope you enjoy.
*************************************************************************************************************
For Anthony, who I don't thank often enough and without whom...
--- Stealing Home ---
Bittersweet, dark, a hint of spicy chicory. Mick paused at the threshold of the elevator, savouring the scent of home. His sanctuary for most of the last thirty years now only felt like home when Beth was here, waiting, living, breathing. And making coffee. The short walk to the door was enough to shed the remnants of his night's work, case forgotten, a step away from dark to light, the early morning sun streaming across the room as he moved in, heading for the blonde in the kitchen.
"Morning, beautiful," her hair swept aside, a glide of lips across the back of her neck. "Something smells good, and it's not just the coffee."
The curve of his smile against her skin drew her own, "Mmmmm, morning." Beth leant into him, drawing his arms around her, hiding her everyday, secret moment of inspection, "How was your night?" No blood, no pain, he was safe and whole.
"Quiet. Frustrating. No progress." Mick paused, head cocked, searching for a second heartbeat, "I thought Andi was staying here last night?"
"No, she's at ho-. She's at my place." Mick heard the pause, her cover. His home, but still not theirs. "She's got a playdate this morning. Marta's taking her, and I," her whisper kiss, pulling away, grabbing jacket and purse on her way to the door, "need to get to work."
He beat her to the doorway, hand outstretched to block, to pull her back to him. "Be late."
The temptation of his mouth at her throat, to succumb to his hands, to steal another moment in their routine of never enough. She broke away, "The realtor called to reschedule." Her unspoken "again" hung heavy.
Mick opened his mouth to speak, to make his excuses of half-truth and evasion. "Beth, I…" but she was already through the door. "Beth," tracking her along the hallway. He caught her at the elevator, a superstitious prickle warning him not to let these be their last words this morning. "Wait, please. Let me explain." Mick winced at the ugly smudge of disappointment etched in her profile as she turned.
"If you don't want to leave here, to start again somewhere new," her half-stifled sigh, "we'll work something out. I have no idea how we're going to do that, but we will. I just," biting her lip, eyes downcast, "I just want more. I want all of it, Mick." She stepped away, pressing the button for the parking garage.
"I love you."
"I know," as the doors slid shut.
Once again the hallway was empty and cold, her lingering scent fading. Mick was alone. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. Fight and struggle and pain and loss had brought them back together, their continuous happy ending, facing the path ahead as one.
He clenched his fists in frustration, futility, a swell of regret as he stepped back to the loft, closing the door softly. He remembered the pull of this place; no matter how long he had been away he'd never really left. It was a place of memory not a place to make a future. Eight months ago he would have walked through fire to be with her again but now he hesitated over bricks and mortar. The part of himself that resided in the fabric of this space was his past.
He paced a tetchy circuit, not touching, absorbing the sense, the feel of his home. A lifelong search for connection, as child, man, brother, son, friend, husband, vampire, lover, somehow had invested this place with a power, a hold over him.
It was time.
He pulled out his phone and dialled. "Josef. I need your help."
*****************************
Once his mind was made up, it only took a few days for desire to become reality, a whirl of realtors, designers, lawyers eager to please; the world moved fast when you used Josef Kostan's name. Beth had stayed away, avoided, weary of the search for compromise, for a solution where love alone wasn't enough. Now the time had come to make good on his promises and Mick arrived at her door firm of intent, conviction in his heart.
"Mick!" Andi's usual squeal of greeting as he let himself in, a lunge, a death grip around his neck, a squirm as she tried to reach tiny arms around his body.
"Well hey there, little one. You all ready to have some fun today?" A nod, a smile as she rested against him. The feel of her in his arms, regular, everyday, magnificent.
"I hope you know Marta's missing her bridge club for this little jaunt. It had better be worth it." Beth moved to kiss him, brief but warm. There was no anger but the strain of the past few days lingered, dark circles under her eyes, the trace of a frown.
"It will be," Mick smiled, "and that's all you're getting."
"Still my man of mystery." Another kiss, closer, "I've missed you."
"I'm sorry." He pulled her near, "Trust me." Eyes closed, cheek to cheek, willing her to believe.
"Always."
Mick felt her smile, the tension ease as he moved away, "We'll be back mid-afternoon. You're still okay for later?"
"It'd be much easier if I knew what you had planned. I have no idea what to wear."
Mick leaned in, his whisper, "I don't care." A snatched kiss and they were out the door in a tumble of jackets and bags and smiles and excitement.
Marta insisted on sitting in the back with Andi. The Mercedes was her kind of car, a reminder of past grandeur, and the drive had the feel of an old-fashioned family outing as they played I-Spy, craned to see the city landmarks retreating, admired the luxury of the gated palaces as they passed. A cool breeze, a clear day, and a destination ahead. They pulled off the highway heading closer to the ocean, the rush of breakers growing ever louder.
A smooth circle of dazzling driveway brought them to their destination and the chatter from the back seat came to an abrupt halt as they surveyed the beautiful, imposing house, set on three floors of concrete and glass, stretching down to the beach and up to the sky.
"Here we are." Mick stepped out and opened Marta's door with a flourish, his hand offered, as always.
"And where is 'here'?" Marta asked.
Clutching Andi's hand, Mick linked arms with Marta and moved to the front door, jangling a set of keys with a knowing smile. "Let's go in, shall we?"
Marta was uncharacteristically quiet as they walked though the entrance into the main living area, a vast expanse, glass-fronted, looking out across golden sand to the shore. Mick hid a grin behind his fist at her awe-struck gasp. He'd had a similar reaction on his first visit and had hoped for the same from her. She turned to face him, "Why are we here, Mick? Whose house is this?"
"You like it?"
"It's amazing." She moved through to the kitchen, an artwork of steel and glass, on, room after room, Andi dashing in and out, round and round in a whirl of wonder. Up the open staircase they climbed, checking out the bedrooms, barren but beautiful, out to the upper sundeck, overlooking the pool beneath. The plaster was worn and crumbling, a general air of tired abandonment, of emptiness, as though the house itself were waiting to come to life again.
"Being this close to the ocean has taken its toll - it needs a lot of work." Mick flicked idly at the terrace masonry.
Marta finally understood the purpose of their visit, "You want to move here with Beth and Andi, to make this your home?"
Mick nodded, "I'm sure she's told you that I've been… stalling about moving out of the loft. Well, she's waited long enough but I needed to make sure Andi likes it. If she's going to live here, she gets to choose."
Marta smiled, a tear in her eye, "It's a beautiful house, Mick. I never imagined my Beth living anywhere this," she waved her arm over the imposing vista, "glamorous. And it's good that it needs to be fixed up, something you can do together, make it yours."
Mick grinned, "That's what I was hoping you'd say - and I hope Beth feels the same."
Hoisting an over-excited Andi onto his hip Mick cast an arm around around Marta's shoulders, "Come on. There's more to see." Returning downstairs, stepping out through a side entrance, the trio walked along a short pathway through a covered portico into the adjoining cottage. The feel was different, instant. This had been someone's home recently and the echo of family and warmth enveloped them.
"Oh, this is lovely. So bright and warm." Marta strode through the living room to the kitchen diner, trailing her hand over work surfaces, fittings, a hum of pleasure escaping, drawing Mick's grin. He knew, now, right now, everything was going to be just fine.
Marta was off then, up the stairs, brisk as her arthritis would allow and Mick could hear her huffing and puffing as she checked from room to room. He and Andi followed at a distance, eventually finding her gazing out a picture window, lost in thought. "You will be happy here," stoic, determined not to trample on the joy of those she loved, "and whatever you decide to do with this part of the house, it will make a beautiful home for all of you."
"Well, that's not really up to me."
Marta turned, only half-listening, contemplating her own uncertain future. She had known the day would come when she would have to move on, start again, alone, but she hadn't expected it to be so soon. "Yes, yes, yes, Beth will be the one who makes the decision. I know I'm old-fashioned but when it comes to the home, it is a woman's right."
"It is indeed. You've just got the wrong woman." He was smiling now, unable to hide any longer. Marta turned, slow to understand, unwilling to hope.
"I don't…"
"This cottage is going to be your home, Marta." For the briefest moment, a chink opened, the tiniest crack in her veneer of lovable eccentricity and Mick saw the fear beneath. Fear of age, loneliness, uselessness. "If you like it of course-" The rest of his words were smothered in a cloud of crepe and Polish as Marta sought solace in her native tongue, hugging him as her words tumbled around them. "This is going to be our home. Our home for our family. Our whole family. And as a very smart woman once told me, family's about more than DNA. So, say you'll come. Make our family complete."
She turned away, heaving, smoothing her hands down her dress before straightening, chin raised. She turned, her eyes glistening, "I wasn't sure you deserved them."
"Neither was I," Mick smiled and shrugged. "I just hope Beth agrees with you. She's either gonna love it or stake me for making a decision without consulting her." His tone was light, but his nerves were real.
Marta patted his arm, "It will be all right, Mick. You are proving to her that you are ready. That is what is important. She will see that."
"I hope you're right."
She grinned, "I'm always right."
They spent the next hour lost in plans and designs and colours and a twirl of excitement. The briefest pang as Mick realised this was how it should have been with Coraline. For the first time in over sixty years, he felt like a newly-wed, thrilled at the wonder of looking forward.
"So, have you ladies seen enough?" Mick managed to extricate Andi from the dazzling, mirrored bathroom and they headed back to the car.
"Thank you, Mick. This was… well, for once I don't have the words." Marta's approval was unequivocal, warm, final.
"The day's not over yet. Who's hungry?"
"Me, me, me," Andi wriggled as Mick buckled her into the booster seat, so incongruous against vintage leather and walnut. Settled into the cool cocoon of the Benz, they set off on the short drive to a nearby park. Mick unloaded the picnic basket and headed for the shady seclusion of a cluster of trees next to an adventure playground. Marta busied herself with blankets and plates and napkins while Mick tried to still an over-excited Andi long enough to get sunscreen out of the tube onto her face. Giggling at the greasy smears that found their way everywhere except onto her skin, Andi was finally ready to join the scattering of neighbourhood kids enjoying the warm afternoon haze. She stopped and stared at Mick for a moment, a frown of concentration forming as she pondered her next move. On some level, she knew he couldn't join her, that the shade was his as she must step into the sun. Then she was off and running, hair streaming, her gleeful laugh floating on the sunlight.
Father and grandmother, in truth if not in blood, watched with joy as she played and skipped and danced, fearless on the swing, resolutely testing her balance on the jungle gym.
A tumble and a grazed knee brought tears of shock to her eyes and a terrified vampire to her side. The blistering burn beat against him, forgotten in this, his moment in the sun as he checked, soothed, hugged, reassured. Scooping her into his arms, Mick carried her back to their shaded sanctuary, her fretful tears abating.
The morning's excitement ensured they made short work of the picnic and with hunger and thirst satisfied, drooping eyelids took over. Mick gathered Andi to his chest, lying back against the smooth bark, humming a gentle lullaby. As Marta's glasses slipped to the end of her nose, jaw falling open in a gentle snore, Andi shuffled ever tighter, the most welcome weight Mick had ever felt. The sun reached its zenith and he felt tears come, unexpected, confusing, filled with the joy of realisation, an old question finally answered. All the years he had wondered how his father would have seen his son, the vampire; fear had driven his determination to sequester himself, keep those he loved safe from the monster within. But now, he knew. For all his passions, for all those he had saved, now, for the first time he understood the meaning of unconditional love. A father's love. Smoothing his fingers through her hair, feeling her gentle rise and fall, the thump of her tiny heartbeat, he knew for this child, his child, he would slay dragons.
*****************************
"A rose for the lady."
Beth hid her smile as she raised the bloom, inhaling its sweet scent, taking in the sharp, dark suit and shirt and the smile that always took her breath, "All afternoon they've been teasing me. I tell you, those two can keep a secret." She glanced over her shoulder at Andi and Marta whispering and giggling on the couch.
"You look beautiful." Mick coiled his arm around her waist, "Shall we?"
"Don't wait up," Beth called out as she allowed Mick to lead her to the car.
He retraced the morning's journey, this time to the accompaniment of the gathering dusk and a chorus of cicadas. Beth held her questions, intrigued, feeling the spell cast around them. She inched closer, tight against him, pulling his arm around her shoulders as they pressed on through the twilight.
Pools of light from within the house softened stark edges and warmed cool concrete. Beth took Mick's hand as they walked up to the door. She knew. Instantly she knew his reason, the purpose of this visit, feeling his need, her own wish for this moment to be perfect.
Silence as she inspected, pondered, planned, smiled. With each heavy moment, moving from room to room, Mick's agitation grew, to speak, to persuade, or to wait.
Finally, she gave him his opening, "You've been busy."
His words tumbled out, "I want to start over. Fresh, clean. With you. This is somewhere we can do that. Another bit of the past put back where it belongs."
"So this is where you brought Andi and Marta?"
Mick nodded. "The whole family had to give it the once-over."
"But the loft, Mick. In so many ways it's part of you. Are you sure? What about your work, the office-"
"I've found new office space in the city and there's room for a study here so I can work when I need to. The loft's already on the market and I think I might have a buyer."
"Wow. That was fast. When you set your mind to something…" Her words trailed off as she pushed open the glass door to the poolside deck, resting against the frame, the evening breeze carrying the incoming tide.
Mick moved to her, "Does that mean?"
Her answer was in her glow, the light in her eyes, the quickening of her pulse. "I'm trying very hard to be just a little annoyed that you did all this without me."
"Mmm, how's that working out?"
Her laugh reached into him, warming, comforting, "Not so well. It's perfect."
"It needs a lot of work."
"Building something worthwhile always does. Building a home. A place of our own." She turned in his arms, "I can't believe we're really here."
"Believe it." His lips pressed to hers, the thrill of reconnection, of living up to her vision of who they could be. "Because today," he held her, "today… it's been the best day."
"And tomorrow will be even better."
Author: redwinter101
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I don't own Moonlight or any of its characters
Note: this story follows on from Homecoming, which was based on an AU story idea by sabazzz. If you haven't read that, here's a little summary: at the end of Sonata, Mick didn't go back. He kept on walking down that hallway and out of Beth's life for five years, during which time he moved to New York and Beth had a daughter, Andi. Finally, a case brought them back together and this story is set a few months later. Marta is Beth's live-in friend/housekeeper/surrogate grandmother to Andi. And she's Polish.
Although this isn't a Christmas story, it is in holiday spirit of fluff, fluff and more fluff.
That's it! Hope you enjoy.
*************************************************************************************************************
For Anthony, who I don't thank often enough and without whom...
--- Stealing Home ---
Bittersweet, dark, a hint of spicy chicory. Mick paused at the threshold of the elevator, savouring the scent of home. His sanctuary for most of the last thirty years now only felt like home when Beth was here, waiting, living, breathing. And making coffee. The short walk to the door was enough to shed the remnants of his night's work, case forgotten, a step away from dark to light, the early morning sun streaming across the room as he moved in, heading for the blonde in the kitchen.
"Morning, beautiful," her hair swept aside, a glide of lips across the back of her neck. "Something smells good, and it's not just the coffee."
The curve of his smile against her skin drew her own, "Mmmmm, morning." Beth leant into him, drawing his arms around her, hiding her everyday, secret moment of inspection, "How was your night?" No blood, no pain, he was safe and whole.
"Quiet. Frustrating. No progress." Mick paused, head cocked, searching for a second heartbeat, "I thought Andi was staying here last night?"
"No, she's at ho-. She's at my place." Mick heard the pause, her cover. His home, but still not theirs. "She's got a playdate this morning. Marta's taking her, and I," her whisper kiss, pulling away, grabbing jacket and purse on her way to the door, "need to get to work."
He beat her to the doorway, hand outstretched to block, to pull her back to him. "Be late."
The temptation of his mouth at her throat, to succumb to his hands, to steal another moment in their routine of never enough. She broke away, "The realtor called to reschedule." Her unspoken "again" hung heavy.
Mick opened his mouth to speak, to make his excuses of half-truth and evasion. "Beth, I…" but she was already through the door. "Beth," tracking her along the hallway. He caught her at the elevator, a superstitious prickle warning him not to let these be their last words this morning. "Wait, please. Let me explain." Mick winced at the ugly smudge of disappointment etched in her profile as she turned.
"If you don't want to leave here, to start again somewhere new," her half-stifled sigh, "we'll work something out. I have no idea how we're going to do that, but we will. I just," biting her lip, eyes downcast, "I just want more. I want all of it, Mick." She stepped away, pressing the button for the parking garage.
"I love you."
"I know," as the doors slid shut.
Once again the hallway was empty and cold, her lingering scent fading. Mick was alone. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. Fight and struggle and pain and loss had brought them back together, their continuous happy ending, facing the path ahead as one.
He clenched his fists in frustration, futility, a swell of regret as he stepped back to the loft, closing the door softly. He remembered the pull of this place; no matter how long he had been away he'd never really left. It was a place of memory not a place to make a future. Eight months ago he would have walked through fire to be with her again but now he hesitated over bricks and mortar. The part of himself that resided in the fabric of this space was his past.
He paced a tetchy circuit, not touching, absorbing the sense, the feel of his home. A lifelong search for connection, as child, man, brother, son, friend, husband, vampire, lover, somehow had invested this place with a power, a hold over him.
It was time.
He pulled out his phone and dialled. "Josef. I need your help."
*****************************
Once his mind was made up, it only took a few days for desire to become reality, a whirl of realtors, designers, lawyers eager to please; the world moved fast when you used Josef Kostan's name. Beth had stayed away, avoided, weary of the search for compromise, for a solution where love alone wasn't enough. Now the time had come to make good on his promises and Mick arrived at her door firm of intent, conviction in his heart.
"Mick!" Andi's usual squeal of greeting as he let himself in, a lunge, a death grip around his neck, a squirm as she tried to reach tiny arms around his body.
"Well hey there, little one. You all ready to have some fun today?" A nod, a smile as she rested against him. The feel of her in his arms, regular, everyday, magnificent.
"I hope you know Marta's missing her bridge club for this little jaunt. It had better be worth it." Beth moved to kiss him, brief but warm. There was no anger but the strain of the past few days lingered, dark circles under her eyes, the trace of a frown.
"It will be," Mick smiled, "and that's all you're getting."
"Still my man of mystery." Another kiss, closer, "I've missed you."
"I'm sorry." He pulled her near, "Trust me." Eyes closed, cheek to cheek, willing her to believe.
"Always."
Mick felt her smile, the tension ease as he moved away, "We'll be back mid-afternoon. You're still okay for later?"
"It'd be much easier if I knew what you had planned. I have no idea what to wear."
Mick leaned in, his whisper, "I don't care." A snatched kiss and they were out the door in a tumble of jackets and bags and smiles and excitement.
Marta insisted on sitting in the back with Andi. The Mercedes was her kind of car, a reminder of past grandeur, and the drive had the feel of an old-fashioned family outing as they played I-Spy, craned to see the city landmarks retreating, admired the luxury of the gated palaces as they passed. A cool breeze, a clear day, and a destination ahead. They pulled off the highway heading closer to the ocean, the rush of breakers growing ever louder.
A smooth circle of dazzling driveway brought them to their destination and the chatter from the back seat came to an abrupt halt as they surveyed the beautiful, imposing house, set on three floors of concrete and glass, stretching down to the beach and up to the sky.
"Here we are." Mick stepped out and opened Marta's door with a flourish, his hand offered, as always.
"And where is 'here'?" Marta asked.
Clutching Andi's hand, Mick linked arms with Marta and moved to the front door, jangling a set of keys with a knowing smile. "Let's go in, shall we?"
Marta was uncharacteristically quiet as they walked though the entrance into the main living area, a vast expanse, glass-fronted, looking out across golden sand to the shore. Mick hid a grin behind his fist at her awe-struck gasp. He'd had a similar reaction on his first visit and had hoped for the same from her. She turned to face him, "Why are we here, Mick? Whose house is this?"
"You like it?"
"It's amazing." She moved through to the kitchen, an artwork of steel and glass, on, room after room, Andi dashing in and out, round and round in a whirl of wonder. Up the open staircase they climbed, checking out the bedrooms, barren but beautiful, out to the upper sundeck, overlooking the pool beneath. The plaster was worn and crumbling, a general air of tired abandonment, of emptiness, as though the house itself were waiting to come to life again.
"Being this close to the ocean has taken its toll - it needs a lot of work." Mick flicked idly at the terrace masonry.
Marta finally understood the purpose of their visit, "You want to move here with Beth and Andi, to make this your home?"
Mick nodded, "I'm sure she's told you that I've been… stalling about moving out of the loft. Well, she's waited long enough but I needed to make sure Andi likes it. If she's going to live here, she gets to choose."
Marta smiled, a tear in her eye, "It's a beautiful house, Mick. I never imagined my Beth living anywhere this," she waved her arm over the imposing vista, "glamorous. And it's good that it needs to be fixed up, something you can do together, make it yours."
Mick grinned, "That's what I was hoping you'd say - and I hope Beth feels the same."
Hoisting an over-excited Andi onto his hip Mick cast an arm around around Marta's shoulders, "Come on. There's more to see." Returning downstairs, stepping out through a side entrance, the trio walked along a short pathway through a covered portico into the adjoining cottage. The feel was different, instant. This had been someone's home recently and the echo of family and warmth enveloped them.
"Oh, this is lovely. So bright and warm." Marta strode through the living room to the kitchen diner, trailing her hand over work surfaces, fittings, a hum of pleasure escaping, drawing Mick's grin. He knew, now, right now, everything was going to be just fine.
Marta was off then, up the stairs, brisk as her arthritis would allow and Mick could hear her huffing and puffing as she checked from room to room. He and Andi followed at a distance, eventually finding her gazing out a picture window, lost in thought. "You will be happy here," stoic, determined not to trample on the joy of those she loved, "and whatever you decide to do with this part of the house, it will make a beautiful home for all of you."
"Well, that's not really up to me."
Marta turned, only half-listening, contemplating her own uncertain future. She had known the day would come when she would have to move on, start again, alone, but she hadn't expected it to be so soon. "Yes, yes, yes, Beth will be the one who makes the decision. I know I'm old-fashioned but when it comes to the home, it is a woman's right."
"It is indeed. You've just got the wrong woman." He was smiling now, unable to hide any longer. Marta turned, slow to understand, unwilling to hope.
"I don't…"
"This cottage is going to be your home, Marta." For the briefest moment, a chink opened, the tiniest crack in her veneer of lovable eccentricity and Mick saw the fear beneath. Fear of age, loneliness, uselessness. "If you like it of course-" The rest of his words were smothered in a cloud of crepe and Polish as Marta sought solace in her native tongue, hugging him as her words tumbled around them. "This is going to be our home. Our home for our family. Our whole family. And as a very smart woman once told me, family's about more than DNA. So, say you'll come. Make our family complete."
She turned away, heaving, smoothing her hands down her dress before straightening, chin raised. She turned, her eyes glistening, "I wasn't sure you deserved them."
"Neither was I," Mick smiled and shrugged. "I just hope Beth agrees with you. She's either gonna love it or stake me for making a decision without consulting her." His tone was light, but his nerves were real.
Marta patted his arm, "It will be all right, Mick. You are proving to her that you are ready. That is what is important. She will see that."
"I hope you're right."
She grinned, "I'm always right."
They spent the next hour lost in plans and designs and colours and a twirl of excitement. The briefest pang as Mick realised this was how it should have been with Coraline. For the first time in over sixty years, he felt like a newly-wed, thrilled at the wonder of looking forward.
"So, have you ladies seen enough?" Mick managed to extricate Andi from the dazzling, mirrored bathroom and they headed back to the car.
"Thank you, Mick. This was… well, for once I don't have the words." Marta's approval was unequivocal, warm, final.
"The day's not over yet. Who's hungry?"
"Me, me, me," Andi wriggled as Mick buckled her into the booster seat, so incongruous against vintage leather and walnut. Settled into the cool cocoon of the Benz, they set off on the short drive to a nearby park. Mick unloaded the picnic basket and headed for the shady seclusion of a cluster of trees next to an adventure playground. Marta busied herself with blankets and plates and napkins while Mick tried to still an over-excited Andi long enough to get sunscreen out of the tube onto her face. Giggling at the greasy smears that found their way everywhere except onto her skin, Andi was finally ready to join the scattering of neighbourhood kids enjoying the warm afternoon haze. She stopped and stared at Mick for a moment, a frown of concentration forming as she pondered her next move. On some level, she knew he couldn't join her, that the shade was his as she must step into the sun. Then she was off and running, hair streaming, her gleeful laugh floating on the sunlight.
Father and grandmother, in truth if not in blood, watched with joy as she played and skipped and danced, fearless on the swing, resolutely testing her balance on the jungle gym.
A tumble and a grazed knee brought tears of shock to her eyes and a terrified vampire to her side. The blistering burn beat against him, forgotten in this, his moment in the sun as he checked, soothed, hugged, reassured. Scooping her into his arms, Mick carried her back to their shaded sanctuary, her fretful tears abating.
The morning's excitement ensured they made short work of the picnic and with hunger and thirst satisfied, drooping eyelids took over. Mick gathered Andi to his chest, lying back against the smooth bark, humming a gentle lullaby. As Marta's glasses slipped to the end of her nose, jaw falling open in a gentle snore, Andi shuffled ever tighter, the most welcome weight Mick had ever felt. The sun reached its zenith and he felt tears come, unexpected, confusing, filled with the joy of realisation, an old question finally answered. All the years he had wondered how his father would have seen his son, the vampire; fear had driven his determination to sequester himself, keep those he loved safe from the monster within. But now, he knew. For all his passions, for all those he had saved, now, for the first time he understood the meaning of unconditional love. A father's love. Smoothing his fingers through her hair, feeling her gentle rise and fall, the thump of her tiny heartbeat, he knew for this child, his child, he would slay dragons.
*****************************
"A rose for the lady."
Beth hid her smile as she raised the bloom, inhaling its sweet scent, taking in the sharp, dark suit and shirt and the smile that always took her breath, "All afternoon they've been teasing me. I tell you, those two can keep a secret." She glanced over her shoulder at Andi and Marta whispering and giggling on the couch.
"You look beautiful." Mick coiled his arm around her waist, "Shall we?"
"Don't wait up," Beth called out as she allowed Mick to lead her to the car.
He retraced the morning's journey, this time to the accompaniment of the gathering dusk and a chorus of cicadas. Beth held her questions, intrigued, feeling the spell cast around them. She inched closer, tight against him, pulling his arm around her shoulders as they pressed on through the twilight.
Pools of light from within the house softened stark edges and warmed cool concrete. Beth took Mick's hand as they walked up to the door. She knew. Instantly she knew his reason, the purpose of this visit, feeling his need, her own wish for this moment to be perfect.
Silence as she inspected, pondered, planned, smiled. With each heavy moment, moving from room to room, Mick's agitation grew, to speak, to persuade, or to wait.
Finally, she gave him his opening, "You've been busy."
His words tumbled out, "I want to start over. Fresh, clean. With you. This is somewhere we can do that. Another bit of the past put back where it belongs."
"So this is where you brought Andi and Marta?"
Mick nodded. "The whole family had to give it the once-over."
"But the loft, Mick. In so many ways it's part of you. Are you sure? What about your work, the office-"
"I've found new office space in the city and there's room for a study here so I can work when I need to. The loft's already on the market and I think I might have a buyer."
"Wow. That was fast. When you set your mind to something…" Her words trailed off as she pushed open the glass door to the poolside deck, resting against the frame, the evening breeze carrying the incoming tide.
Mick moved to her, "Does that mean?"
Her answer was in her glow, the light in her eyes, the quickening of her pulse. "I'm trying very hard to be just a little annoyed that you did all this without me."
"Mmm, how's that working out?"
Her laugh reached into him, warming, comforting, "Not so well. It's perfect."
"It needs a lot of work."
"Building something worthwhile always does. Building a home. A place of our own." She turned in his arms, "I can't believe we're really here."
"Believe it." His lips pressed to hers, the thrill of reconnection, of living up to her vision of who they could be. "Because today," he held her, "today… it's been the best day."
"And tomorrow will be even better."