Chapter Text
A graffiti covered freight train trundled down the tracks beneath the overpass. Intricately colored tags painted along the car’s panels, as large as he was, rumbled past. It seemed to go on forever. From it, a thick plume of smoke billowed skyward from the engine. Its whistle’s wails were indelible… emotive like the soft, dulcet moans of a harmonica.
Ben watched as it slowly clacked along, curious as to both its origin and its destination. Since his six years of incarceration, he constantly wondered how much of this vast country he had yet to explore.
He chewed and swallowed the last little bite. Crumpling the wax paper and napkins from his two breakfast burritos, he chucked them all into the large trash can beside him.
After a long day of warehouse work, lifting and toting, he was satisfied. It was all he needed. Ben was surprised how much harder it was to find someone to pay him cash under the table, but it was enough to keep him fed and afford a hole to hide in.
He scanned the large parking lot surrounding the bustling truck stop. Lifting his right hand to his face, smoothing it over the span of his freshly shaved cheeks and chin, he checked for any missed stubble. Ben hadn’t exactly taken his time shaving in the men’s restroom and wanted to be sure. Folks never seemed to willingly take risks with men who looked rough.
After seeing the several PSA’s for both he and his FBI most wanted brother, Ben felt much safer with the shaven face. They all showed them both with beards or goatees at the very least.
Leaning on the large can, he gently pulled back the cuff of the right sleeve of his denim jacket. Ben’s thick fingers delicately patted, then skimmed over the clear plastic wrap stretched taut over his fresh tattoo with reverence. His eyes sparkled as they danced over it once more. In a flowing script, it clearly read, ‘Doc’. The simple word was nestled in the deepest, darkest blue field filled with tiny moons and stars surrounded by a blood red heart.
He cracked a slow, easy smile. Really do Love you, Rey Kenobi.
Hunched over with his broad back braced against the wind, he cupped his large hands about his lighter. Ben lit a Newport, dragging on it fully, wincing up into the bright sunlight as he blew out the smoke through his nose.
His hair had grown fully down his back. Weed-like and wavy, it whipped effortlessly in the breeze, lashing him about his jaw and chin. He raked it all back from his forehead, getting it under control before replacing his trucker hat. He threw his duffle bag over one shoulder, then began to hike up the hill toward the edge of the off-ramp leading to the interstate.
Again, Ben squinted from the stark light of the early morning sun when he slid on his shades, then pulled a small torn piece of paper from his inside jacket pocket. Furrowing his brow, Ben stared at it for a moment with great intent… committing it to memory.
He took another slow drag off his cig and casually threw out a large, willing thumb, carefully scanning each of the oncoming cars and trucks.
Ben now sought vengeance, vindication… a reckoning.
*****
She looked out onto the sweeping complex at Quantico. With a frenetic blur of blue and black suits, badges of agents both old and new bustling about the courtyard, dashing from one building to the next, she witnessed the mundane, rut-like existence with an air of indifference, and got lost in her thoughts. The atrium and plaza were alive and already showing signs of winter giving way to spring, burgeoning with new growth. Tiny green buds and fresh new blossoms were sprinkled all throughout the trees, hedges and annual shrubbery.
Clutching her mug close to her chest, Rey sipped on her coffee and let her mind drift, traveling miles away. She let the slip of a warm smile comfort her with the memory. The memory of her Ben.
She blushed at the thought of his sheer warmth, the feel of her hands in his hair, the image of their bodies pressed and entwined together.
She fantasized about a world, a universe, perhaps even another galaxy where that very dream might just be a permanent reality. Her eyes fluttered closed with a soft hum.
Feeling flushed and suddenly warmed by it, she wanted to believe it was brought on by the coffee. Rey put the mug down. Her raised palms pressed fully into the glass pane. The slight touch made a mild chill run through her.
She sighed, then whispered, “I love you, Ben Solo.” Rey began to shiver again, the endless onslaught of emotional turmoil and contradictions swelling within her.
The empath churned deep inside her belly.
In her most recent sessions with Kalonia, Rey had unraveled and revealed everything. Rey had confessed and admitted to being with Ben. Harter had been surprisingly supportive. Never once did Rey ever feel judged. They explored all her feelings of inner conflict. But although she felt no shame nor guilt about her choices and decisions, Rey did experience occasional doubts. Her mind would often flood with the same feelings of being left in that cellar – feelings of hurt and abandonment. Although she was certain her heart belonged to Ben, Rey teetered constantly between acknowledging the man who ultimately saved her life, and the man who had inexplicably put her in harm’s way.
It vexed her. Her many restless nights were haunted by fitful, frightening dreams again. She woke every morning to the strange sensation of being stitched, sewn and patched back together after being ripped apart during sleep. Rey wanted to believe she was merely heart broken… lovesick.
Dr. Kalonia reminded her that Ben, too, was a victim, and that gave her much to consider. Harter made several suggestions, including addressing thoughts in her journal and addressing her visualization exercises.
Rey was willing to try, and hoped more than anything that time would surely heal. In the meantime, she made a commitment to focus on the light and not the darkness. She needed to embrace the notion of not who Ben had been, but the man he was ... The man he was becoming.
Despite her stirrings of intense comforting feelings a moment ago, the disturbing sense that more lay underneath, that more inescapable darkness lay up ahead, Rey held firmly to the tiny inkling of hope. She wholeheartedly believed Ben would remain safe, but more importantly, that he would keep his promise and come back to her.
*****
Ferociously, her stomach growled louder than it ever had for the past four days. Not quite certain, she assumed it had been four days give or take at the very least according to her best estimation.
He had walked out and simply left her there. Without so much as an explanation or a word.
Her hair was matted to her scalp, soaking, sopping wet. It clung to her, curls pressed damp about her neck and shoulders. A stream of perspiration steadily trickled down her forehead and temples, collecting then settling inside her blindfold. She had been biting into her gag over and over again, and trying to shred the sopping wet cotton muslin fabric. Each day, little by little, she had eventually reduced it to tatters in her mouth.
Paige frantically kicked her legs out hard away from the chair. Wriggling her arms through the sleeves of his extra large, ratty, torn Lynyrd Skynyrd tee shirt. It was wet and clinging to her like a second skin.
Once she had freed her ankles from her bonds, she felt just a small sense of triumph. It was just another little victory. She was driven. Angrily, she shook back and forth in a frenzy, attempting to tip over her chair.
Her frustration flared.
It was the same routine. A sordid, sick and twisted game of his. Every week or so she would make some headway, take great pains to further her plans of escape, and he would dash them all to Hell, and leave her wanting. And every time, Paige would be furious but would never lose hope. She was determined, undaunted.
Suddenly, her ears pricked when she heard the loud rumbling of a truck’s engine as it pulled up hard upon gravel. Paige froze and within minutes, she listened to the storm door to the meager mobile home creak open, then slam shut with a bang. After a few heavy footsteps creaked toward her, there was the familiar sound of the accordion-style door being pulled to the side, and stilled. She tried to quiet her pounding heart. Pulling her ankles tightly together, she wanted to hide her recent handiwork in an attempt to fool her captor.
Entering the room, he seemed to swallow up all the air when he neared. His breath was hot and heavy. The sound of it raked up her spine. She felt it slowly travel down her body to the floor.
“Sorry ‘bout dat, lil’ lady. I had some otha’ bizness needin’ my attention…”
Hot, rough hands grabbed and squeezed her arches and instep, pulling them tautly in one large hand while the other lashed her ankles together, nearly cutting off her circulation this time. He made quick work of securing her once more.
Once again, grieving the loss of her mobility, she felt the warmth of him rise up above her head. Towering over her, she could feel him leering, staring at her… studying her. Quietly taunting.
Next there was a mild thud of something rustling when hitting the floor. It sounded like plastic. He rifled through it - a bag perhaps, a shopping bag most likely. Then there was a confounding ripping and tearing that echoed throughout the tiny room.
He must have been tearing more fabric for a new gag. The ripping sound tore into the stale air, and Paige violently cursed him in her mind.
He stood much closer, and she smelled him hovering. The very same hot hands ran through her hair at the nape of her neck. And for the first time in over a month by her calculations, he removed what remained of her gag.
Grabbing a fistful, then tightening his grasp on her hair and pulling it taut, he growled. She sucked in as much oxygen into her lungs as possible. Her heated cheeks were blazing now.
He yanked her head harder in his meaty hand, forcing her to still.
“Quit yer worryin’, I ain’t gonna kill ya - - well, not yet.”
Fearlessly, she threatened, “You damn well better do it soon, asshole, or else I’ll kill you first.”
He laughed, almost maniacal. Refusing to show any fear, Paige stared up at him, studying his face.
“Are you finally gonna tell me – are you gonna tell me today?” Lifting her chin defiantly, she asked, “Well – Are you, you crazy Muthafucka!!?” She spat with every ounce of hatred and venom.
He released his hold and took one step back away from her as he chuckled darkly, low in his throat, barely registering.
“DAMMIT, MAN!” Completely unnerved, she yelled out in frustration. “Why are you keeping me?”
*****
There was a loud banging on the double wide's storm door. Shaking the aluminum frame practically off its hinges, it rocked the whole structure.
He was hunched over her. Annoyed, Kylo gradually lifted his head as his mouth dropped open.
He sneered. “Be right back, my lil’ lotus blossom.” Pulling his jeans up higher on his waist, he pounded through the flimsy, accordion door heading toward the front room.
“Aw - - Fa fuck sakes!”
He bent over and peered out the dirty, front windows, scouring the lot for any vehicles. After reaching the door, and finding no one in sight, Kylo dragged his hands roughly over his denim thighs, cursing before he wrapped his fist around the spindly knob.
“Who da hell is it? …and what ina hell d’ya wont?” He growled as he yanked and flung the door wide open.
A mixture of shock and horror seized him and the look on his stunned, weathered face was worth every ounce of the effort and planning.
“It’s Ben…” Ben’s lips thinned as he forced the words.
Kylo’s eyes immediately shot to the .38 clasped firmly in Ben’s right hand. “And, and I wanna fin’ly be rid o’ ya.”
Kylo grinned and slowly raised his arms high above his head an inch at a time. “Lil’ Mouse. Whatcha do? Follow all my bread crumbs agin…?” He attempted to act unnerved, but the fast beading sweat on his forehead sent a different message entirely. “Ya gonna kill me now, lil’ brutha?” His gaze darted around the fenced in yard before asking, “Is zat it…?? Is zat how dis goes? Well — Git on in here, why don’t ya?”
Ben pushed into the rickety door, clenching the pistol, keeping his hand steady with a bead on his brother. “Need ta turn yerself in, Kylo.” He breathed evenly, steadily calming himself. “Back up.”
He gestured, painstakingly pointing the barrel, while worming his way further inside.
Kylo backed up two or three paces. He attempted to gauge Ben’s resolve, trying to find chinks in his armor… slyly looking for a way out of the situation. He laughed and rocked a bit, barely noticeable. “Hah – No way I’m turnin’ myself in. No way!”
“Where’s da cop? Where’s Tico? She - she still alive?” Ben pressed his back to the door as he shut it behind him. He combed the room, his eyes darted about the small cluttered space until they found the narrow hallway leading to the back. “Now listen ta me, I cum ta git her, so ya gotta turn yerself in.”
Kylo’s shoulders sagged, his arms lowering about an inch as he spoke plainly. “Dat ain’t happ’nin…” He shifted his weight, and inched toward him, slowly guarded and yet threatening. He stared at Ben. The tension in the atmosphere was filled with added agitation and an air of edginess.
Ben stiffened with the eerie feeling and cautiously raised the pistol, slightly tightening his grip.
“Ya know dat ain’t happ’nin, and ya know ya don’t wanna do dis.” Kylo laughed nervously. “C’mon lil’ brutha.” He swayed on his feet, bringing both hands down, level to his large ears.
“Don’t…” Lifting his jaw sharply, signaling for his twin to keep his hands raised. “Tico… now, let’s go.”
Kylo feigned sheepish. “Naw. I don’t think so.” Wiggling only two fingers on each hand, he drew Ben’s attention. Growling, Kylo suddenly bum rushed him. He lunged at him, grappling for his wrist and wrestling Ben’s hold on the gun. The two slammed into the wall with a force, and Kylo pushed into his twin, pinning the pistol hard between them.
Fused with adrenaline, they both struggled for dominance within the cramped, confined space. Flashes of his memory of the farmhouse fight whirled through Ben’s brain. All fear drained from him as Ben felt the barrel and muzzle buried against his abdomen.
The two were locked together, nose to nose and eye to eye. Ben watched Kylo gnash his teeth as his brother's angry fingers were clawing and wrenching, attempting to free the gun from him. With both of their hands stuck fast to the grip, Ben struggled to stand fully, wide-legged, as he began to apply pressure to Kylo’s shoulder with his own, feeling the gun wedge down even deeper between them. Both of their thick fingers prodded the trigger.
Kylo stiffened, then stood there in shock while three loud pap-pap-paps resounded through the trailer park with an eerie, tin echo as Ben fired shots into him point blank… center mass.
A wispy cloud of smoke rose up between them, dotting the air with an ash-like, carbon residue. Ben felt the intense heat as the muzzle burned into his chest. The sting woke him from his stunned state.
“Aaauck,” Kylo doubled over and fell hard onto his side, one arm sliding down Ben’s leg, the other arm flailing, unable to grasp at the empty shelves along the wall as he faltered then slumped over and fell. Once he stilled, he wheezed raspily with his eyes glazing over, ultimately rolling back.
Nearly in slow motion, Ben let the .38 drop through his fingers onto the worn carpet with a dull thud. His mouth gaped open and eyes went wide as he rubbed his powder burned hands across the thighs of his jeans.
Ben stepped over his brother’s body, huffed and then nudged the back of Kylo’s head with the toe of his boot. He swiftly made his way to the room in the rear.
He nearly ripped the accordion door off its track getting to Paige. He recognized her from all the missing persons ads and news coverage. Ben instantly hit his knees and began to free her. Cutting the bonds from her feet and hands swiftly with his pocket knife, he then removed the gag and blindfold as quickly as his fumbling fingers would allow.
Upon hearing the gunfire, at first she recoiled. But then, with wide eyes, she shook with excitement and partially from relief.
“Don’t worry.” Gently calming her, he whispered. “I gotcha, I gotcha…”
She whined simultaneously, “Thank you, thank you so much.” Paige wept, overcome by all the weighted, jumbled emotions rippling and running through her.
Ben tried lifting her up on her feet after freeing her and yet, Paige attempted to stand on her own. With mutual nods, the two stumbled through the trailer with his arm around her waist and hers around his neck. As soon as she saw Kylo’s bloodied body laying at the door, Paige flew into a rage, kicking and stomping him uncontrollably all about his head and back. Spitting and hurling curses at his corpse the entire time.
At first, Ben attempted to restrain her, and then simply let her have at him. He knew that in some small way it might have helped.
“We need ta go.” He grasped one of her hands tightly in his. “C’mon, officer.”
“It’s Detective…” Paige mumbled.
“Aight, aight… But we really do need ta go.”
They moved through the door carefully, and Ben turned to pull the latch closed. Paige still clung to his arm as she slowly crept down the few stairs.
Without any warning, Kanan Jarrus dropped to one knee and loudly yelled out with his gun already drawn. “Freeze! Put your hands up and step away from Tico!”
“No, no…nooo!” Paige yelped as Ezra leapt from the passenger side of the brown sedan.
Ben whirled around to face Kanan while shoving Paige to the ground.
With no further hesitation, Kanan opened fire and took the shot.
He and Ezra realized entirely too late what Paige had also yelled to them. “It’s Not Himmmmmm!”
Ben fell to the dirt, and rolled, both hands clutching his neck while he began to bleed out.
Ezra ran toward them both while calling over his shoulder for Kanan to call in an ambo.
His words fell on deaf ears as Kanan was frozen, dumbfounded. The stark realization left him immobile. Crippled with the fear, shock piled upon rapidly rising guilt, he was still crouched low at the fender of his car. Ezra pressed 911 into his cell, quickly requesting assistance as he ran.
Scrambling up onto her knees, Paige crawled over to Ben. She wailed loud uncontrollable sobs while gathering his shoulders in her weak arms. “Ben… Ben, please hold on.”
He swallowed painfully.
“We need a bus…” Shouting into his cell, Ezra ran to them, sliding feet first into the gravel and dry dirt. Helping to support his head in Paige’s hold, he whispered, “It’s alright, Ben. Hold on, buddy.”
“Put more pressure on it, Paige.”
Finally, Kanan dropped his weapon into his holster and forced his long legs into action. Dazed, he stood up and slowly made his way over to the three on the trailer’s front steps.
Ben grew weak, attempting to speak while spouting gurgling sounds when his tongue sloshed inside his mouth.
“Hey, hey, hey…” Paige whispered, “Look at me, look at me.” She removed his hand, replacing it with her own, desperately trying to stem the blood flow.. His eyes were glassy and tear filled… begging a silent plea when his breathing grew more ragged. Paige cried, “Keep looking at me!”
Approaching sirens squealed off in the distance as they drew nearer. Ben clutched his right hand in his left, then strained to bring his bloodied wrist to his face. Before losing consciousness, he laid his lips to his tattoo.
*****
He heard voices in the hallway, low, muffled and yet incensed. As if off in the distance, it sounded a lot like Finn and Ezra arguing with some local authorities. He could only make out bits and pieces. They were regarding a heroic act, self-defense, assisting in the apprehension of, extenuating circumstances, a lighter sentence, altering or reducing charges was what little he could make out.
Ben lay perfectly still. He barely breathed. His eyes had yet to open, but he gripped the bar on the railing of his bed.
“Nurse. Nurse…” His eyes shot open at the sound of a voice. Her voice.
A nurse passing just outside his door squeezed by the men in the hallway. “Lie still… You lost a great deal of blood.” She softly sighed.
Ben turned his head toward her voice, anxious to see her face.
His bandages, gauze, surgical tape, sutures and tubing made his range of motion nearly impossible. Ben struggled to speak. His voice croaked with soreness from the injury, the severe scarring, and lack of use.
“Hey there, Doc.” The pain in his throat was excruciating, and his tongue felt coated and swollen.
Her smile spread slowly, coaxing those hazel eyes to sparkle. Although her pretty freckled face wore the signs of worry and fatigue, it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
“Welcome back.” Rey reached over the bed railing, tenderly caressing his hand. For the very first time, he realized his wrist was cuffed to the bed.
While the nurse checked his vitals and adjusted his bed, three Oklahoma State Troopers barrelled into the room. Ben could see Kanan, Finn and Ezra now crowding his doorway.
He blinked up at Rey, watching her lip, “I love you, Ben.” Completely ignoring the barrage of questions the troopers were already rapidly firing his way, he simply cracked a smile and lipped right back in response, “I love you, too, Rey.”
*****
Finally, the crisp autumn air gave way to the temperate Memphis morning. The moment Rey pulled up and parked, she decided to sit in the car for a moment to gather herself – her thoughts and her emotions.
Taking the time off to fly down to Tennessee may have been a mistake, she supposed. But it was much too late to think about that now.
She saw a blue and white mobility van just at the foot of the hill. An elderly man approached the vehicle and was assisted by what seemed to be an orderly or staffer from a nursing home. Wordlessly, the two slowly navigated their way toward the access ramp. The old man appeared fragile and wooden as he folded in from the waist. Gnarly, shaky hands, roped with veins. The man was withered and bent with age and the weight of some unspoken disappointment – a heavy guilt.
Struggling with his walker through the doorway, the balding, wrinkled gentlemen stopped briefly, looked up into the sky, searching for any form of acquiescence, familiarity or some appeasement. Finding none, he grimaced. He grumbled something unintelligible as he swung his stiff frame, then waved a thank you to the younger man who aided him.
Done with her brief distraction, Rey stepped out of her vehicle and trudged up the hill. Anxious to see him again, she was eager, determined.
Somewhere off in the distance she heard the sounds of a woman sobbing. Attempting to seek her out with her eyes, Rey wondered for whom she wept. She squinted through the thinly veiled mist to find her.
A grove of trees a few yards past the clearing in which she stood appeared to be where the woman was crying. Clearly, the woman was mourning at a gravesite of a loved one. But for whom, Rey still wondered.
Ordinarily, Rey would never have dared risk being in a cemetery, but she had made a promise. Over the last two months, her empathic abilities were back and in full force. They seemed to have grown, sharpened even. And in this place, she already began to feel the dark heaviness of grief, the pall of death pulling and tugging at her limbs.
A light breeze rose and blew leaves from the trees, scattering a few at her feet.
Deep down, Rey hoped this trip would be freeing, and in some way, the final chapter to the saga. More than anything, she wanted to see Ben.
His parole officer eventually approved the trip, after much cajoling, and of course with Rey’s intervention. His PO caved, especially after having the commitment from Finn to agree to have Ben in his custody. He was doing really well. Rey was exceedingly happy. Outpatient treatment and living in the men’s halfway house had done wonders for him. Ben had decided to get his CDL license. He’d also started taking some college courses.
Her cell phone hummed in her coat pocket. She took it out and swiped the screen. “I’m about to pull up. Are you already here?” Finn’s voice made her cradle her cell phone with both hands.
Rey sighed, fixing her cell hard to her chin. “Yes, I’m here.” She looked up into the gray sky, and turned up the collar of her tweed jacket.
“Jannah refused to come along, ya know - she thinks it’s ludicrous. Found the very idea of me showing up … abhorrent. You should have seen the face she gave me.” Finn sneezed.
“... I understand.” She whispered. “Gesundheit.”
“Ok, here! Oh, I see you…” The call ended the same time she heard his slammed car door.
Finn marched halfway up the hill toward her with his hands shoved deep down in his corduroy pockets. He then turned back toward his brand new Outback. Rey followed his line of sight just in time to see Ben emerge from the SUV. His tall frame unfolded slowly from the front passenger seat.
Finn turned slowly to face her, their eyes locked, and even at that distance, instantly, within the smallest of exchanges, Rey knew through an unspoken acknowledgement that he would not be joining them.
Mildly amused, but mostly grateful, her heart began to pound.
Rey tried again to find the woman from earlier… if only in her mind. The wind shifted. All that could be heard were the chirping of birds and the subtle rustling of leaves.
Rey lowered her eyes to the ground. When she glanced down at the grave, she immediately saw them. One red and one black rose. They were placed atop the simple, gray granite headstone.
Her mind raced back to the elderly man. Rey knew without having to be told. It had to have been Orville Snoke, Kylo’s adopted father. She suddenly remembered Kalonia’s inquiry. Could you feel any empathy, any sympathy at all now knowing Kylo’s history? Inside, Rey knew coming here was the true manifestation of both, it was her honest answer.
Watching him grow closer made her stomach flip. It was then she realized just how much she missed him and how much she craved his touch. Her heightened awareness had her whole body shivering. Rey’s shoulders tightened in anticipation.
As Ben approached her, he came around behind Rey, wrapping his arms about her waist. He pulled her tightly to him, clasping his large hands together low at her waist.
“... touched by that dark miracle of chance which makes new magic in a dusty world.” He whispered softly into the nape of her neck.
She recognized the quote. Rey had heard the words before, and was sure who had written them.
Quickly, she whirled around. “Tom Wolfe, eh? Wow! Really?” It was all she could muster.
“Yeah. It’s from Look Homeward, Angel.” He grinned. “I loved dat classic. And it kinda suits da moment, tho. Dont’cha think, Rey?” He brought her into his arms again, hugging her tightly to his chest.
“Yes, yes…” Consumed by the heat of him and his pea coat swaddling her, Rey clung to him. She felt it immediately. “Yes, I suppose it does.” When she finally looked up into his face, gauging him, she saw all the forgiveness and reconciliation bubbling under the surface. She now knew the beginnings of a foundation for closure were steadily being built. And she dreamt of the day that would somehow happen for her.
“Been reading a lot more lately…” Ben grinned, faintly recalling the session she had asked him about that.
“Yes, you told me. I think I’ll have to get used to having a scholar and trucker on my hands.” Rey laughed and he chuckled right along with her. She also noticed that the bandages on his neck were gone. The scar was partially hidden by his collar and yet, it was obvious he would live out his life forever marked by it.
Ben finally looked down at his brother’s grave. He drew in a long, deep breath while reaching for and finding Rey’s willing hand. He clasped it gently.
The two simply stood there silently. Several minutes passed. In the stillness, they each processed their feelings quietly as best they could. She knew he grieved. Uncertain of any closure he may have sought or found, Rey knew there would be many more Dr. Kalonia sessions in her future dedicated to addressing her own.
Her hand broke free from his and found its way around his waist. She rested her head against his chest. Nuzzling there, Rey hoped he had finally found some peace with it... Some peace within himself.
“Ben.” Trembling fingers gently reached for his jaw and offered him a soft caress. “I realize we don’t have much time, but…”
Tenderly, his lips pressed to her forehead, planting tiny kisses to her hairline. “Fa da first time we’ll have plenty of it. Time… wit no hurries, no worries.” His warm breath diffused her cheeks.
“Yes, Ben, you’re right. We will.”
“Here’s ta making more of our New Magic!”
Once more she felt whole as she pushed up onto her toes and fully kissed his lips.
*****
