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Chapter Ten: History Repeats Itself


Ashley

Even my Bonnie and Clyde fantasy had grown old before long and I ended up sitting on the curb in front of the gas station, leaning against the ice machine, nibbling on a bag of potato chips I'd bought inside. My stomach was thinking about turning. Morning sickness turned middle-of-the-night sickness was pending. I always got sick in the middle of the night thanks to baby.

When Nick finally turned into the lot, I stood up, sending chip crumbs cascading down the front of me. I clutched my bag of Lays as Nick coasted up in front of me, the car leaning slightly to the corner with the donut.

He got out. "I didn't see a single wild ostrich," he announced. I threw myself at him, glad to see he'd made it. I'd managed to suppress how truly worried I'd been. I wrapped my arms around his neck. I'd pictured him out there in the dark, all brave like a courageous warrior of olde, just him and the torchlight, strutting down the road, not afraid of anything. A real he-man. The thought of it was intoxicatingly hot.

But then again, we already know my hormones were racing at the speed of light so pretty much imagining Nick doing anything was intoxicatingly hot.

He hugged me close, his hands sliding down the length of my back as my breasts pressed into his chest. "Hmm," he muttered, as he leaned into me to kiss my mouth, "What happened?" He raised his eyebrows, a dirty grin crawling across his face.

I knew he'd felt my bra-less state.

"I couldn't take it anymore," I whispered.

He laughed.

"I went in the bathroom - the one where Zoey was first suspected. And I had to dance to get it off." I reached for my purse, unzipped it, and held the bra up for him. I laid it in his hand, and grinned up at him.

He swallowed as the lacey, padded bra hung over his palm.

"It looked better on," I commented.

"I'm sure," he croaked.

"So... how's your nuts?" I asked, grinning.

Nick grinned and snickered. "You're dirty."

"I'm talking about the damn car, perv," I teased him, winking. I turned and looked at the sad little donut wheel on the car. "Well," I said, "I guess that's the end of our little trip to Vegas, huh?" I said with a sigh.

Nick looked at me in surprise, "Why?"

"Nick, seriously? You wanna keep going with this trip from hell?"

"Well part of the plan was to make it all the way to Vegas this time," he said in a whiney little voice.

I took a deep breath, "Yeah... change history and all that..." I said. I licked my lips. "But Nick, I kinda just wanna go home."

"You do know you're giving me horrible flashbacks, right?"

I laughed.

"Okay. We'll go home. We'll let history repeat itself." He jumped down off the curb and opened the passenger side door to the car and waved his arm, a real gentleman.

I walked over and pressed myself against him as I climbed in, even though that was entirely unneccessary. I stared up into his eyes. "Well," I said, "I mean, it won't entirely repeat..." I gave him my very best impression of Marilyn Monroe eyes. "I mean," I said huskily, "If I recall correctly, last time did not end with fluffing."

Nick groaned as I slid into the seat.

"Will ya put this back on?" he asked, holding out my bra.

I laughed. "Maybe. If you're good for the whole ride home."

"I'll be good," he said in a hurried voice, like a little kid.

He closed the door, then rushed around the car. He pulled open the driver's side door and climbed in. Starting the car, he looked back to reverse. Then he stopped. "Wait. I forgot something important." He parked again. "Be right back." And he leaped out of the car and ran into the store.

A few minutes later - and a couple of Bonnie and Clyde panic attacks from the poor guy behind the counter, I'm sure - Nick came back out carrying a small bag. He climbed in and handed it to me.

"I got condoms. And breathmints." He grinned.

"Take me home!" I shouted.

But this time when I shouted it, Nick laughed, and I meant home.

One day, we'd make it to Vegas. But that day was not today. Today I just hoped we made it to the house without anything else happening.




Nick

"Remember that thing about fluffing on the side of the road?" I asked.

"You passed that opportunity by," Ashley answered with an evil cackle. "Next time, think twice before you say no."

"Damn."

The ride home seemed unending. The road just stretched on and on and on and on. It'd been a long day. Every muscle in my body was achey from all the walking and carrying and disappointments and troubles we'd been through. I gripped the wheel and stared ahead into the dark that stretched away ahead of us.

"I'm so bloody exhausted," I muttered after passing a sign declaring we were only fifty miles from Los Angeles.

"Too tired for our festivities?" she asked, glancing over.

"I'm never too tired for that," I answered.

Ashley snickered.

"I could be on my death bed, breathing my last words, and I wouldn't be too tired for that," I said.

"At least you'd be on a bed," she commented.

We pulled up to the house. It was almost midnight. The car came to a stop and I cut the engine and drew a deep breath. Despite the disappointment of not making it all the way to Vegas - again - it felt good to be home. I closed my eyes and leaned back against the headrest.

"Don't fall asleep now, sir," Ashley said. I shook myself awake and looked over at her. She was holding up the bra in a tantalizing manner. "I'm gonna go put this on. Count to two hundred and come upstairs." She winked and pushed the car door opened. I watched as she walked up to the front door, carrying her flats in her hands. She lingered at the door frame and slipped through the door in a seductive manner.

Sweet heavens to Mergatroid.

I climbed out of the car eagerly, my brain racing through numbers like it was the Matrix, and I started to run across the lawn. Then I remembered the strawberries and sparkley juice, and I ran back to the car and opened the trunk. The chocolate from the strawberries had melted and given them a sort of deformed look. But other than that everything looked okay. So I scooped them all up and rushed inside, sure my count to two hundred would've been accomplished by now, had I actually been doing that.

When I got upstairs, Ashley was kneeling on the bed in this skimpy black lingerie set that really made the creaminess of her skin stand out. She had fluffed up her hair so it was really pretty and poofy and sexy and her eyes were relined with dark goopy stuff that made them bright and pretty and perfect. I stood there in the door holding the bottle of sparkley juice by it's neck, the two plastic champagne glasses, and a tupperware full of melted strawberries. I felt like a Valentine failure with an offering for the goddess Venus.

"Wow," I said.

"Happy Valentine's Day," she said.

I inched closer. "Happy Valentine's."

I held out the strawberries.

Ashley smiled and reached for one. She lifted it up and brought it to her mouth slowly, wrapping her lips around it and sucking on the chocolate.

"Sweet Lord alive," I whispered.

Ashley lowered the strawberry and looked at it. "What the hell happened to these?" she asked, laughing.

"They've been in the car," I replied. I climbed onto the bed and knelt in front of her.

Ashley grinned and put the strawberry in my mouth, then started unbuttoning my dirty blue shirt, pusing it away from my chest softly, her hands pressing against me. I couldn't hardly breathe. She felt so good. I leaned in to kiss her, but she lifted a strawberry up between our mouths so I ended up kissing chocolate and sweetness and she grinned at me from the other side of it, her eyes all smouldering.

I ran my hands up her sides and across the lacey front of her bra. She hummed against the berry. I could feel it vibrating against my mouth from the soundwaves travelling through it. I reached around to the back and unhooked it, sliding it off her. She moaned again into the strawberry and I stiffened down below as my hands gently moved their way around front to massage her breasts, and she pushed the strawberry into my mouth and my teeth sank into the sweetness and juices.

"A little fake champagne?" I asked, and lowered my hands to pour the juice into the two plastic glasses I was still holding.

Ashley put down the tupperware of strawberries and took her glass from me, our arms doing that cheesy criss-crossy thing where she pours my juice into my mouth while I pour hers into her mouth. Somehow it seemed less cheesy while we were doing it, however bad it might look in restaurants when couples do it.

Ashley was midway through the juice when she closed her eyes and made a face.

"You okay?" I asked.

"Yeah," she replied.

"You sure?"

"Yes," she answered. And she lowered the glass, putting it on the night stand, then leaned in to kiss me. She tipped me backwards onto the bed and my arms snaked around her as we rolled so I was on top and I laced my fingers through hers, my mouth on her neck, traveling downward, across her collar bone to the plane of her chest, to her boobs... and just before my mouth hit it's target, Ashley groaned, "Oh God, hold that thought." And she rolled away, leaping from the bed, and ran into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her.

Even through the closed door, I could hear her throwing up.

I looked at the clock. Morning sickness. Right on schedule.

If it wasn't one baby... it was the other.