CHAPTER 19 "Get married?" Monica said when the breath returned to her chest. "Before going back to D.C.?" "Yeah," he smiled giddily. "Anytime you want, but the sooner the better." He moved his hands to her shoulders, but kept his eyes on hers. "I know this priest..." he smiled. "John..." she said, pulling away from him. "I don't know... this is so sudden..." He nodded thoughtfully. "Okay. It's sudden for you. I've been thinking about it for awhile now. You should take your time too." He grinned awkwardly, determined not to pressure her but wanting to just the same. A broad smile leapt to Monica's face. "You've been thinking about this for awhile?" He nodded, his crystal blue eyes shining with love. "Yes, you're right," she decided. "I *should* think about this." She walked down the aisle, her smiling face peeking at him over her shoulder. "See you in awhile," she said coyly. He smiled back and let out a long breath. She had me going for a minute, he thought, then tried to turn his attention back to automotive parts. He found himself listening for her footsteps as she wandered through the store behind him and he hoped he was right, that she was just teasing him. A hand on his arm made him jump. "Jesus Gibson!" he wheezed. "Sorry," Gibson said, taking his hand away. "There's something I want to show you." John let out a breath and smiled at the boy. "Okay. Just don't sneak up on people!" he warned. "Especially not..." He dropped his voice to a low whisper, "especially not people who have a license to kill." "You were thinking about Monica," Gibson said. "You didn't hear me say your name." "You said my name?" John repeated incredulously. Gibson nodded. "But it's okay," he assured him. "She wants to marry you. She just needs a little time to..." "Gibson," John said, sighing with exasperation. "Hasn't anyone told you that was rude?" "Sure," Gibson answered. "Lots of people." "So why do it?" John chided. "I'm sorry," Gibson said sincerely. "I was only trying to help." "You should ask first," John said, parental patience starting to replace a lover's annoyance. "Give people a choice whether you help them or not, okay?" "Okay," Gibson promised. "You may never know what it's like to be like me," John said, putting his hands on the boy's shoulders. "But I *like* not knowing everything about her. I like the mystery. I like it that she has to tell me what she's thinking. And I like telling her what I'm thinking. It isn't just telling her my thoughts," he said, now speaking as much to himself as to Gibson. "But every time I share something with her, I'm also telling her that I trust her. And when she tells me her secrets it's the same. I'm willing to wait for something that important. Understand?" Gibson gulped and blinked several times. "I'm sorry," he said, even more contritely than before. "I didn't realize..." "I know," John said, pulling the boy into a friendly hug then releasing him almost immediately. "You're a good kid, Gibson. But you have a lot to learn." Gibson looked admiringly into John's smiling eyes. "I guess I do," he conceded. John felt the sudden need to break the mood. He grabbed his hoses and filters then dropped them into the shopping basket. "Now," he said, picking up the wire basket. "I have what I need. Monica's deciding what she wants... What did you want to show me?" he asked. Gibson's face lit up. "Over here," he grabbed John's arm and pulled him toward one corner of the tienda. John smiled. It was the toy section. He hadn't shopped for toys in years. "Toys?" he asked. "Aren't you a little old for..." Gibson picked up a Gameboy and thrust it towards him. "I've never had one," he explained. "Please?" The boyish plea went right to John's heart, and he took the prize from Gibson's hands. He looked it over with some curiosity. He'd heard of these but had never seen one close-up. As he read the information on the package, from the corner of his eye he saw Gibson pick up a second toy. He lowered the Gameboy and raised his eyebrows. It was a toy gun. A very realistic-looking toy gun. "I need to start practicing," Gibson explained. Suddenly John felt Monica's presence behind him. He didn't know how, but he knew she was there. He turned around and smiled. "Do you know what you want yet?" he said, winking. "Yes," she said flirtatiously. "These," she held up a box of tampons, then tossed them into the basket. "Geez, Mon... not in front of the boy!" John said, but Gibson's giggles told him he needn't be upset. Monica ignored John's scold and addressed Gibson. "Did you find a magazine for Lita?" He shook his head, and she saw the toy gun in his hand. "Shopping for girls is tricky," she said knowingly. "Let me help you." John continued wandering around the store, adding supplies to their basket, as Monica helped Gibson choose a magazine for Rosalita. They settled on "Seventeen," and Monica smiled at Gibson's reluctance to carry it. "We can tell them it's for me," she laughed. They stood at the counter, Monica's hand casually draped over Gibson's shoulder, waiting for John to finish. "Looking for jewelry?" the clerk asked, nodding to the rows of cheap jewelry under the glass in front of them. "What do you think, Gibson? Is there something you want to buy?" When Gibson looked up at Monica she winked. "There might be a friendship ring or... Oooooh" she sighed when she saw a delicate heart-shaped locket with a red rose in the center. "How much is that?" she asked. "Fifteen dollars," the clerk said. He lowered his voice to a whisper and added, "But for People of the Via, no charge." He looked up to see John approaching and added, "No charge for anything, as long as it's reasonable, of course." "I don't know what you're talking about," Reyes insisted. "We'll pay cash." "It's okay," the clerk assured them, then bored his eyes into Gibson's. "He's all right," Gibson agreed. "He's one of us." The clerk laughed. "We're not all in monasteries, you know. But we help each other whenever we can." Monica pulled Gibson closer to herself, and John put his hand on the small of her back. "Here," the clerk said, reaching for John's basket. "Let me bag this for you. Don't worry about the money. If I run out I'll just take a quick trip to Vegas." He chuckled at their stunned responses. "Don't worry. I only win what I need... for the cause." "Of course," John said with disgust. The clerk smiled as he bagged their goods. "Anything else you need?" He winked at John. "Anything at all? More jewelry perhaps?" "No," John snapped. "This will be all." On the way back to the monastery John and Monica walked hand-in hand, swinging their bags in parallel motions, as Gibson walked ahead of him, shooting his toy gun at fenceposts and boulders. He jumped to the side, imitating action heroes, and fell on the pavement with a loud groan. John rushed to his side and helped him up. Monica followed close behind, caring both of their bags. "Are you okay?" she asked breathily. "Yeah," he grunted, still struggling to right himself. "Not hurt... don't worry." He brushed the dust off his clothes and picked up the gun. John smirked. "Maybe it's time for lesson one." He grabbed Gibson's toy gun and said, "Lesson One: NEVER let go of your gun." He handed the gun back to him and assumed a football-like stance. "Now... Hold onto that gun!" He ran at Gibson, who pointed the gun at him. Just as he got close, Monica pulled Gibson to the side and let John run past them. Gibson started laughing. "You think that's funny?" John asked playfully. "Yeah," Gibson giggled. "Okay, let's see you *you* like it," John challenged, motioning for Gibson to give him the gun. "Now, try to get this gun away from me." Monica leaned to whisper into Gibson's ear, then shouted, "Gun!" At her signal, she and Gibson ran opposite semicircles toward John, forcing him to run backwards. Laughing, he cried out, "Hey, no fair two against one!" He continued backing away from them until his foot hit a stone and he fell backwards, landing on a cactus. "Holy Jesus!" he shouted, rolling over to his side. "Dammit!" Monica ran to his side and, kneeling, asked breathlessly, "Are you all right?" John looked over his shoulder at the cactus, and when Monica saw what he was looking at, she started laughing. "This isn't funny!" John shouted, but Monica knew him too well to take this outburst seriously. They stared into each other's mischievous eyes, and he insisted, "It's not!" Gibson took advantage of the situation to grab for the gun, but John held it fast, and Gibson fell backward himself when his hand slipped off of the gun. "Dammit!" he shouted as his backside hit the sandy ground. "Ya see?" John said, waving the gun. "Once you have that instinct you never lose it!" Monica's eyes followed John's prideful wave of the gun as he lectured about the importance of training, and she couldn't resist trying for it herself. Suddenly, Monica's hand shot out and she snatched the gun away, waving it victoriously. John looked at Gibson with dismay. "Gibson," he said, shaking his head. "Never fall in love. It's nothing but aggravation." The amused smirk left Monica's face and she handed the gun to Gibson. "Is that so?" she asked. She started walking stomping off in the direction of the monastery, and by the time John and Gibson caught up to her they were almost to the gate. "I'm sorry, Mon," John said, limping up to her side. "You're no aggravation." She turned, a knowing smile on her face. "You're sure?" "Cross my heart," he promised, his right hand over his chest. "Okay," she smiled, reaching for his hands, then pulling him into an embrace. They kissed passionately, not caring what Gibson might think, then their sparkling eyes locked on each other when they came up for air. "I can never stay angry at you," Monica whispered. "Me neither," John whispered back. He nuzzled the nape of her neck then whispered into her ear, "Were you angry enough for us to have make-up sex later?" "Maybe," she answered coquettishly. "As long as you don't make me mad again..."