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by Seraphina Parts 26-30 Part 26 "I�m going home today. I�m going home today. Hi ho the dairyo, I�m going home today. I�m-" "Sara, drop it." "Hey, you thought it was funny and cute, I saw you smile." "Yes, the first time it was funny, the second time was cute, the third�hell, it was even lovable, but this is the ninety ninth time and it�s way past getting old." Sara huffed. "Well you could at least let me get to one hundred." "Fine! Sing the bloody thing one more time, and then that�s it." Right now, Paul felt more like her father than her lover. She smiled graciously, if not a little cheekily at him before taking a deep breath. "O, I�m going home today. I�m going home today. Hi ho the dairyo, I�m going home today." "Very good, now do us a favour and shutup. You can stop your giggling too. You�ll only encourage her," he said, looking pointedly at Richard who had come along for the simple reason that he nothing better to do. "Sorry Paul," he said stifling a giggle. He shutup quickly and pushed himself further into the corner, cowering as the dreaded matron entered. The room fell silent as all were frightened of her and had good reason to be too. She was a bloody scary woman. Sara sat on the edge of the bed, looking rather anxious as �Brunhilde� strode purposely over to her. The massive woman roughly pulled Sara�s arm, shoved the sleeve up and strapped the tourniquet of the blood pressure gauge [sorry, don�t know the technical name of that thing, but you know what I meant- sera] around her upper arm before shoving a thermometer cruelly under her tongue. Sara winced as the tourniquet squeezed her arm a little too tightly but didn�t say anything because 1) the thermometer was in the way and 2) she was too scared. When �Brunhilde� was satisfied with everything, she shoved a release form rudely under Sara�s nose. "Sign here and then you can go. Be careful next time young miss or you�ll find yourself in the morgue." She glared at all three of them in turn before marching out of the room. There was a major sense of relief at the absence of her presence.[did that make sense?- sera] "Nighean na galladh," Sara spat angrily in the direction of the disappearing matron. Richard and Paul looked at her. "Yeah, I agree completely," Paul said knowingly and then looked at her as if she were crazy. "Are you sure you�re right to come home today?" She looked at him curiously. "Yeah, I�m fine. Why?" "Well you don�t normally speak gibberish." She chuckled. "That wasn�t gibberish, it�s Scot�s Gaelic and I�ve spoken it on occasions, you�ve just chosen to ignore it because that, I�m afraid, is the male way." Childishly, and in the true nature of a male of his age, of any age that matter, Paul poked his tongue out at her. "Pog mo thon!" "What did you just say?" he asked through narrowed eyes. "Kiss my arse." "What did you say to the kindly old Frau�or Herr, I still haven�t managed to work out it�s gender?" asked Richard, emerging cautiously from his corner. "I called her an daughter of a bitch." "Huh. Sounded like gibberish to me. Say something else," Paul challenged her, still doubting that she knew what she was going on about. "Well I don�t know much, my father used to speak it a lot and I just picked up on a bit of it. Hows this; Paul, mo chride, mo ghr�dh, m�anndachd�bi s�mhach a gun toireach an diabhul fhein leis anns a bhas sibh, direach do Ifrinn." Richard snorted and giggled. Paul turned and looked at him for an answer. "You know what she just said?" "No, it sounded funny though." "Richard , you have the mentality of a bloody dildo." Richard sulked. Paul ignored him and turned back to Sara who was now off the bed and poking around the room, making sure she�d packed everything. "Well?" "Well what?" she asked not looking up from the draw she was inspecting. Paul huffed impatiently. "Well, what did you say to me?" "Oh that." She was being aloof to piss him off and it was working. "Yes that!" "I said, �Paul, my heart, my dear, my love��" she paused and looked at him. A grin had appeared on his face, obviously happy with what he was hearing. "�Shut up and go to hell.�" The grin fell from his face and appeared on her�s instead. Paul scowled. "Well if that�s the treatment I�m gonna get, then you can hail you�re own damn cab and make your own way home. Goodbye." He went to walk out the door. "Paully, I�m sorry. Don�t go." Sara playfully made to run after her but tripped on her bag, stumbling forward. Paul turned just in time to steady her before she hit the ground. "Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ. Be more careful for fuck�s sake. You are the clumsiest person I know. I think you should stay here. You�d be better off in the bloody long run." Sara looked up sheepishly at him. "I�m sorry mo chride. I�ll be more careful but please take me home. I can�t stand this shit hole any longer." There was silence for a few seconds then Paul turned to Richard. "Well you heard what the lady said Rich. Don�t just stand there cluttering the damn room. Make yourself useful and pick up her bag." He walked out the door only to return a few seconds later. "Ah Rich, mate. Don�t suppose you could spare us some dough for the cab, I�m a little short." Sara put her hand comfortingly on Paul�s upper arm. "Paul, I hate to break it to you, but even with all the money in the world, you�re always going to be a little short." "Shut up�Morag!" Part 27 Paul sat at the table, reading the paper and drinking a cup of tea. Although it was nearly midday, he wasn�t long up and was actually contemplating going back to bed because he wasn�t feeling too good. Sara was out, shopping and returning Tim�s jacket after having left it at their place the day before. Although Paul had gruffly told Tim to come around a pick it up himself, seeing as he was the one that left it in the first place, Sara had insisted that Tim�s place was on the way to wherever she was going and had taken it herself. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He didn�t feel sick as such, just a little on edge, nervy if you like, although it was accompanied by a heavy feeling. He stood and made his way to the bathroom, hoping that maybe having a shower would help scrub away his feelings of unease. He made sure the water was as hot as he could handle it. It would help to clear his mind of all the spinning thoughts he was having right now. Standing in the shower recess, the water jetted powerfully from the shower head, giving the feeling that hundreds of tiny needles were trying to pierce his skin. Despite the slight pain, it felt wonderful, pelting him all over his body, cruelly massaging his back, his shoulders, his scalp. As much as he didn�t want to, Paul got out of the shower after twenty minutes of simply standing under the spray of water. Much to his disgust, the feeling still hadn�t left him by the time he�d gotten dressed and made himself a sandwich. Giving up and deciding to just deal with whatever it was he was feeling, he was just about to sit down on the recliner when the phone rang. Looking around the room, he realised that the cordless was on Sara�s bedside table. Grumbling, he made his way to the bedroom and finally answered the phone on it�s ninth ring. "Good afternoon. Sydney City morgue," he said deadpan, sounding uncannily like Rif Raf from Rocky Horror. There was a brief silence before Tim�s voice came to him from the other end of the phone which was presumably his fellow Allstar�s home. "Paul?" The catch in Tim�s voice only increased Paul�s feeling of uneasiness. "Yeah Timmy. What�s up?" he asked nervously. "It�s Sara." The feeling of uneasiness quickly became one of dread, sitting heavily in the pit of his stomach. Taking Paul�s silence as a sign to go on, Tim took a deep breath and continued. "I�m sorry mate." Paul felt the bile rise in his throat as his friend went on. Tim was, by now, struggling to keep from crying, continually stumbling over his words. "She came here to return my jacket, said she was feeling a little strange, had a headache. We were talking in the kitchen as I made her a cup of tea and she just collapsed. I couldn�t do anything. I rang the ambo�s but by the time they got here�Paul, I�m sorry. She�s dead." Paul didn�t say anything. He stood there, dumb, as what Tim had just told him tried to sink in. "Paul? Do you want me to come over?" Paul dropped the phone, unhearing, unfeeling, and it thudded to the floor. "Paul?" Suddenly, he retched, vomiting on the floor before falling to his knees in grief. He cried like he had never cried before. "Paul?" She was gone and there was no bringing her back. He hadn�t even got to say goodbye. Part 28 "Paul?" This couldn�t be happening, not to him. Sure he wasn�t the best person in the world, he definitely was not without sin, but it all seemed so unfair. He loved Sara and yet, she had been so cruelly taken away from him. He felt like his heart had been ripped right out of his chest. He�d lost his other half, his better half and there was nothing he could do about it. "Paul?" God he wished that Tim would just shutup and leave him to grieve and what was with the shaking? Hadn�t he told Tim enough not to touch him? Touch him?! Tim couldn�t touch him, he was on the other end of the phone. "Paul?" What�s more, Tim�s normally quite masculine voice was beginning to sound strangely feminine. "Paul, wake up." *STOP SHAKING ME!* he screamed in his head as he continued with his crying. Why couldn�t he just be left alone. He�d just lost the love of his life for Christ�s sake. Sara was gone. Sara? He could hear her saying his name. "Sara?" he cried, desperate to find her but the tears blurred his vision. All went black. "Paul, I�m here. Wake up." "Sara?" he sobbed, opening his eyes to see her face looking down at him. Her sweet face, full of concern. He reached up and pulled her down to him, kissing that face feverishly, feeling her solid, living form beneath his hands, beneath his lips. "God, I thought I�d lost you," he choked between kisses. "It�s ok Paul. It was just a dream. I�m here now. I�m not going anywhere." She felt his tense body relax slightly but his hold on her didn�t let up. If anything, he pulled her closer to him. She was shocked to find how cold yet incredibly clammy his skin was against hers. She stroked his face and his hair, trying to calm him as he began to tremble. She wondered what could have frightened him so much but she was also afraid that she knew the answer. If this was how he reacted to a dream, what would he be like when her time really did come? Pushing it to the back of her mind for now, she turned her attention back to what was important. Paul. She forced his teary eyes to look at her as best he could in the room lit only by moonlight. "Do you want to talk about it?" she asked softly. He shook his head frantically, almost fearfully. "God no. I just want to forget about it. I love you," he whispered, covering her hand that was on his cheek, with his own. "I love you too." She lent forward and kissed him softly on the lips, marvelling at the hot sweetness she found there. Paul responded passionately, wanting to be sure that this wasn�t a dream and what he had just experienced, was not real. She broke away from his mouth gently, then began kissing his face softly all over. She kissed the tip of his nose, his forehead, his eyelids, his cheeks, kissed away his tears. Finally, her lips returned to his mouth, her tongue finding his and beginning an ardent duel. He could taste the saltiness of his tears on her mouth as he rolled her gently onto her back, his hands exploring her naked body. "God, I want you," he rasped gruffly. "Then take me," she said, gasping as his hands found her breasts, his finger delicately skipping over her nipples. "I don�t think I can be gentle," he whispered desperately. It was obvious that he still needed to be reassured of the reality of the situation, that she was here, with him now. That it was her hot, flushed skin that he was touching and that she wasn�t just some figment of his imagination. "So take me," she said again before sinking her teeth into his neck. In no time at all, Paul�s pyjama pants were discarded, and he was sheathing himself, hard and fast, into Sara�s wet warmth. She cried out softly with every harsh thrust of his hips as a delicious pain enveloped her. Involuntarily, her legs parted wider for him and he brought his hands to her hips, raising her slightly, trying to thrust as deeply as he could into her. Their mouths met in a violent and burning duel of lips, tongues and teeth before they both screamed each other�s names out in ecstasy as they climaxed together. Paul was in an emotional mess as he collapsed into her arms, overjoyed to know that it was real but also distraught to know that one day, it wouldn�t be. Sara held him, stroking his hair and making soothing sounds, feeling that one of them had to remain clear headed and by the looks of things, it was going to be her. Her heart ached for his unhappiness but still, there was nothing she could do and he�d have to realise and come to terms with it. Sighing, she realised that Paul had drifted off into a restless sleep. She pulled the blankets up around his trembling shoulders and tried herself, to journey to the land of nod. Part 29 She�d put it off long enough now. She knew that she�d have to tie up all the loose ends now before it was too late or Paul would be left to do it himself. She didn�t want that to happen. She knew that at the time, he�d be too distraught to have to think about such things, what�s more, the longer she left it, the more she worried about it. They were in the lounge room, sitting on Paul�s couch. Paul was writing something in a notebook, Sara was attempting to read a book but didn�t have the concentration for it. Sighing for about the fifth time in as many minutes, Sara wriggled and tried to get comfortable before reading the same sentence that she�d been reading over and over for the past hour, only to find that once again, she had no clue as to what it said. Paul closed his notebook and but it and his pen on the coffee table before pulling her over to him and putting his arm around her shoulders. "OK, what�s the matter?" he asked. "Nothing." "Sara," he said in a warning tone. "Don�t tell me nothing�s the matter when clearly something is. You don�t just sit there, umming and arring, reading the same page for over an hour when there�s nothing wrong. Now what�s the matter?" "It�s just that�nah, don�t worry." "Ahhh! Stop being such a woman, Woman and tell me what the fuck is wrong." Sara giggled. "Well seeing as you asked me so nicely. I�ve just been thinking is all." "Yes, and�" he coaxed, taking the book out of her hands, closing it and putting it next to his on the coffee table. She rested her head in the crook of his neck as he began to stroke her hair. "Mum and Dad�s house, in Melbourne. I don�t know what I should do about it. I couldn�t bare to sell it when Mum died, I don�t know why, I just couldn�t. So it�s been sitting there ever since then, empty and now I have to do something about it before it�s too late." She keened a little as his fingers skipped over a particularly sensitive spot, behind her ear. She noted the way he stiffened slightly at the words �Before it�s too late.� but didn�t say anything about it. "Why the hell were you being so aloof about this? It wasn�t all that hard to come out and say it was it?" he asked curiously. She shifted uncomfortably in his arms. "I don�t know. I guess I don�t want to think about the reason why it has to be done. I didn�t think you would want to either." She looked up at him, pushing his glasses back up his nose as they started to slip. He grabbed her hand as she began to put it back down, lacing his fingers between hers. "Of course I don�t want to think about it but if this has to be done, well there�s nothing much we can do about it is there? What do you think you should do with the house? Do you want to have it sold, or do you want to have it rented out?" Sara held their entangled hands in front of her face. "I don�t know, I just said that." "Well, if you decide on the latter, I wouldn�t mind becoming landlord when�you know," he skipped the details, not wanting to think about them. "And if you chose the former, that�s fine too. It�s up to you. I can�t decide for you." "But I don�t like making decisions," she whined. �Well I�m sorry, but you�ve got to," he said firmly. "I know. What if we go down, have a look at the house, check out it�s condition, talk to an agent and then you can decide?." "I knew I kept you around for some reason," she said, smiling up at him. "To think when I can�t be bothered. So when will we go?" "This weekend if you like." "This weekend? What, just like that?" she asked disbelievingly. "Yep, just like that." "Paul, you�re the best." "Hmmm, so people keep telling me," he said snootily. "But your head is waaaaay too big." Part 30 "Sara," Paul squeaked through clenched teeth. "Do you think you could let go of my hand, just a little. I�m not saying you have to let go altogether or anything, just loosen the grip a little. Just a little. Yep, that�s it, just a little more. Good girl." He sighed with relief as her hand let go of his a little. They were on a plane, just having taken off from Sydney airport. Sara, not being one for flying, had a tight grip on Paul�s hand. So tight in fact, that it was cutting off the circulation of blood to the rest of his arm. Paul sighed contentedly once more and moved in his seat to get comfortable. "Ahh, that�s bettAHHH!" He cried out in pain as they hit turbulence and Sara doubled her assault on his hand. It was going to be a long, one hour trip. "God I�ve missed this place," Sara said, staring out the window of their hotel room at Sheraton Towers. "Yes, well that�s all fine and dandy, but do you think you could hold off with the reminiscing for a sec and help me with your luggage?" Paul panted from the doorway, staggering under the weight of several suitcases, all of which were Sara�s. "I thought we were only coming for four days." "We are," she answered. He gave a relieved look as she reached out to take something off him but Sara grabbed hold of her makeup purse which he was holding under his chin, and went and sat on the bed. He gave her a look that said "Thanks a bloody lot!" before finally successfully dragging everything into the room and then collapsing next to her on the bed. "Then why the hell did you bring enough stuff for a month?" "It�s all essential," she assured him, lying down next to him. Although she�d always claimed that she wasn�t one to be fanatic about material possessions, Paul had rather a hard time believing it. In fact, he thought it was a big load of bullshit and would tell her that if it weren�t for fear of getting her angry. Some people were funny when they were angry, like himself for instance. Sara was not funny when she was angry. Sara was fucking scary when she was angry. "So you keep telling me," he said sceptically. "Hey, don�t!" he said as she poked him in the side. "Don�t what?" she asked and did it again several times. "Don�t do thAAAt!" he said as she kept doing it. "What, this?" she asked and started poking and tickling him on the stomach. "Is this what you�re talking about? Huh? Huh?" she interrogated him using tickle torture but he couldn�t answer he was laughing too much. "Tell me to stop and I will," she said, knowing that although it sounded like a simple order, he�d have hard time carrying it out . "St-, st-, st-, STOP!" he managed to screech. "Say please," she said, still tickling him ruthlessly. "Paul, I won�t stop until you say please. Say it. Come on, you can say it." "P-p-p-PLEASE STOP!!" She stopped suddenly and jumped up, leaving him panting for breath on the bed. Thirty seconds later, she was back, hovering over him with the camcorder in her hands. Paul groaned. "You brought that with you? Couldn�t we have a little time without it? Just once? You�re always pointing that thing in my face," he complained holding his hand up to block the camera. It was only then did he notice the purplish tint of the skin on his hand. "Look what you did to my hand you crazy bitch." He grabbed hold of the camera an looked into the lens, a deranged, upset look on his face. "I�d just like to let the world know now that if I don�t return from this trip, it was her that killed me. Sara Fraser�Morag Fraser, is the felon. Our relationship is an abusive one, with mainly me copping the brunt of it because�" he choked pretending that he was trying not to cry. "Because, she only want�s me for my body and is�I�m sorry, I�m fine, I�m fine�and is using me constantly in an abrasive manner and I won�t be surprised if I don�t last the night out. But, I just want people to know that�that it�s not her fault entirely because I have got quite a good body and she�s only human so it�s understandable that she can�t resist me and it�s hard to overcome those animalistic instincts when faced with someone who is as sexually attractive as I am and-" Sara reached over and slapped upside the head before turning the camera on herself. "Just so everyone is clear, Paul McDermott is a pathological liar and the only reason I�m abusive with him is because he likes it. He�s a sadistic, masochistic, nympho who is only after me for my money and he�s always begging me to hit him and the like because it turns him on and-" She was silenced with a kiss and the camera was dropped with a giggle and a �whoop!� as our two heroes fell to the floor in a passionate tangle of limbs and other things�use your imagination. Parts 31-35 A Long Time Dead Back to DAAS Fiction Index Email Seraphina |
