And Now, Introducing...(m/f)



Robert Weitekamp was in the basement drunk, again.  He smiled a little and
consoled himself with the fact that he wasn't TOO drunk this time.  Opening
another beer, he lay on the couch, enjoying the spinning of the room to the
sound of Neil Diamond emanating from the ancient stereo system he bought
back in high school.  It was still his favorite way to listen to music. 
His wife was gone out with friends, probably just to avoid him, like she
usually did when he got in these moods.

"I'm coping," he said to himself half-jokingly.  "This is how I cope, I go
into my cave.  Just ask that 'Men are from Mars' guy."  Robert giggled,
nearly spilling half his drink on himself.  Upstairs, a door opened, and he
heard light footsteps treading on the floor over his head.

"Oh, great," he thought to himself as he realized his party may end in yet
another yelling match with the significant other.  "I hope she just goes to
bed."

He listened as the footsteps wondered into the kitchen.  "No such luck," he
thought as they reached the top of the stairs and he heard the basement
door open.  The footsteps sounded a bit unsure as they made their way down
into his cave.

"Becky, honey.  I…" Robert started.

Robert stopped as a woman came into view.  Instead of Becky's fire engine
red hair, he saw raven hair, and blue eyes instead of the expected green. 
Clad only in a translucent white nightgown, the woman smiled at him.

"Hey, Bobby."

Rising uneasily to the edge of the sofa, he sat and stared at the woman. 
He lowered his chin into trembling hands, which he barely managed to keep
up by bracing his elbows on top of his knees.  Slowly, he closed his eyes
to shut out the image, and the spinning sensation nearly overtook him. 
Opening his eyes quickly, he was surprised to find her still there. 
"Chrissy?"

"Mmm hmm," the woman said, nodding her head.  The beginnings of a smirk
caught the corner of her mouth at the look of shock her former husband gave
her.  "Surprised to see me?"

Dumbfounded, he shook his head from side to side.  Dozens of questions,
thoughts, and impulses came at him all at once, but all he could get out
was "…but, you're dead.  You died.  A car accident."

"Ouch, glad to see you, too," she joked, giving her old lover a quick once
over from head to toe, "you're looking pretty bad, Bobby."

Robert rose to his feet, holding onto the arm rest of the couch.  "I've
missed you.  A lot."

"I've missed you too."

"So you've come back to me?" the man asked, or rather, begged.  The
booze--mixed with fear--mixed with excitement was nearly removing all of
his composure.  The man shook violently, tears streaming down his face.

Walking quickly over to her broken lover, Chrissy eased him back down on
the sofa, "Bobby, relax!  Breathe!"  She pried his knees apart and kneeled
in front of him.  Taking his hands into her own, she squeezed them gently,
"I'm only here for a little while, a chance for you to tell me what you
need to."

He looked at her quizzically, "tell you what?"

"Whatever it takes for you to get out of this funk," she said, looking off
to his side.  On a small end table rested a small picture of her.  Reaching
over the empty bottles, she picked up the frame and looked at the still
reflection it contained.

"I never did like this picture," Chrissy admitted, looking back up at her
old husband.

"I know, that's why I took it to my office.  I had just gotten it from the
framers the day…" and he stopped.  He suddenly thought he may suffocate as
the sobs became lodged in his throat, not letting him speak further. 
Instinctively, Chrissy leaned up and wrapped her arms around him.

"Come on, Bobby.  Talk to me," she asked, a hint of urgency in her voice.

And so he told her, for over two hours, that he loved her, missed her, felt
guilty for not being there when she died, for falling in love and marrying
someone else.  As he talked, she lay her head in his lap, and he played
with her hair, just as he had many, many times years ago.

Finally, after he couldn't think of anything else to say, he bent down and
kissed her hair.  She pulled herself up, and kissed him gently.  The kiss
lingered, and grew.  Taking her chin in his hands, Robert lifted her face,
exposing her neck, and nibbled softly.  Taking him by the hand, Chrissy
rose, breaking off the kiss, and lead her lover up the stairs, into the
bedroom.

As they crossed the threshold, she let go of his hand, and took a few steps
forward.  Unlacing the top of the gown, she let it slide off her shoulders.
 Turning to face him, she laughed as he was pulling off his underwear, his
clothes a bundle on the floor.

"In a hurry?" she asked, smiling.

Not answering, he stepped up, took her mouth in his own, and walked towards
the bed, with her walking backwards in front of him.  They giggled as they
flopped down onto the bed, and scrambled up towards the headboard.

Spreading Chrissy's knees apart, Robert kissed and nibbled his way down his
lover's thighs, and kissed her center, softly.  As he heard a moan, a sound
he hadn't heard in years, a wave of emotion he couldn't label swept over
him.  Softly, so softly, he flicked his tongue over and over Chrissy's
swollen nubbin.  He rode the waves as her hips began to rock slowly as if
by themselves.  After several minutes of licking, he felt her buck against
his mouth.  He almost yelped as she took his hair roughly between her
fingers.  Through it all, he showed no mercy.  As she came, he drank.  He
thought she tasted different than he remembered.  Cleaner.  Purer.

He looked up to her face, and blinked away the blurriness caused by his own
tears.  He grinned at the smile that showed under the hand she put over her
eyes as a shield.  Chrissy's breathing slowed, and she looked down to meet
his gaze.  Her smile turned to a look of concern as she looked back at him.

"You're crying."

He nodded softly, climbed up along side of her, and kissed her.  "I've
missed you," he said, tracing his finger along her collar, up her neck, and
holding it at her chin as he leaned in and kissed her.

Reaching over his shoulder, Chrissy rolled her body into Robert's, meeting
him eye to eye.  "Make love to me, Bobby.  Please."

Stifling a cry, Robert reached down between them, between his legs, and
guided himself inside and rolled on top of her.  Chrissy's legs wrapped
around his waist, hugging him.  He felt the warmth surround him as he
filled her, and he decided he never wanted to leave this again.

Nighttime turned to dawn before they stopped.  Exhausted, the two lay side
by side, tears and sweat mingled together making them a sorry sight. 
Chrissy lazily traced her lover's lips with her fingernail before kissing
them.

"I have to be going, Bobby," she said timidly.

Robert felt his resolve weakening.  He reached around her, drawing her into
him.  "Will you come back?"

Chrissy shook her head sadly.  "I'm sorry.  I can't.  I came for us to say
goodbye."

"But, I don't want to…"

"That's just the problem, Bobby," she said.  She stopped as she watched the
confusion and fear take her lover's features.  "I know you don't want to. 
But you have to.  You're married to Becky, and she's the one who needs you
now."

"But I'll never see you again, and I…"

"Bobby," she interrupted, a small giggle escaping her lips, "of course
you'll see again.  You'll see me on the other side one day, and we'll be
happy, I promise."

"I'm sorry," Robert said, apparently not really paying attention to what
she was saying.

"Sorry?  What for?"

"I wasn't there when you… I should have been…"

Chrissy hurriedly put a finger over his mouth, silencing him.  "Shh, don't
even go there.  It wasn't your fault, it was an accident."

"Do you forgive me?"

"There's nothing to for…"

"Please!"

Looking at the anguish that racked her lover scared the woman.  "Bobby, I
forgive you.  I do," she cried, hoping that would be enough to stop his
torment.  And with that, Robert broke completely and cried in Chrissy's
arms till he fell asleep.  A couple of hours later Robert woke up alone. 
Chrissy was gone, again.  But this time, he knew she had forgiven him, and
he could live with himself.

At the same time on the other side of town, in an expensive, single bedroom
apartment, a blue eyed brunette finished her shower as her telephone rang. 
Scrambling from the bathroom at the sound, she picked up the phone on the
third ring, just before the answering machine did.

"Hello?" she said, focusing on not gasping into the receiver.

"Hello," the voice on the other side of the line said, "is this Moana?"

The woman smiled as she recognized the voice on the other end of the call. 
"Yes it is."

"Hi, Moana, this is Becky Weitekamp calling.  Did it go ok?"

"Yeah, I think so.  I saw that picture of her, and it was weird how much
she looked like me.  He asked me to forgive him for not being there when
Chrissy died, and I did, and I think that was the main thing."

There was a pause on the other end of the line.  Moana waited for Becky to
speak again, knowing what the reluctant woman wanted to ask.  "Did he… I
mean, did you have to…"

"Becky?" she interrupted.

"Yeah?"

"Have you seen him today?  How is he?"

"Oh, I don't know, he just woke up a few minutes ago.  I think he's in the
shower now.  I just wanted to thank you… and let you know I just put your
check in the mail."

"Thank you.  I hope everything works out"

"Me too.  Bye."

"Bye," Moana said, hanging up.

Hanging up the phone, Moana went back into the bathroom and grabbed her
towel.  Drying herself off, she walked over to her computer table in the
living room and sat down in front of an open window, and flipped open her
organizer.  Her next appointment was at 3:00 that afternoon.  She was going
to be a birthday present for a boy's sixteenth birthday party.  Easy.  She
could even get a nap in before she had to go.  After a night like that, she
deserved one, she decided.  Leaving the towel on the floor, she went into
her bedroom and fell asleep.