Re: Ghosts - ch.45 -- The Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman Fan Exchange

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Date Posted: 16:57:32 04/29/03 Tue
Author: dqfan
Subject: Re: Ghosts - ch.45
In reply to: dqfan 's message, "Re: Ghosts - ch.44" on 15:39:44 04/28/03 Mon

CHAPTER FORTY FIVE

To Sully's relief, Sophie's blissful dreams continued to keep her warm�

^^^^^^^^^^^^

The fireplace crackled soft, its colors infusing the room with a golden glow. Sophie sat before it, on the bearskin rug, popping popcorn the old-fashioned way: in a covered cast-iron skillet Gianni had been gracious enough to loan her.

Reluctant, at first, Gianni had grown to accept Sophie's relationship with Peter, as well as Peter's permanent residence in Sophie's room at the inn. They had been together for almost two weeks now.

Two weeks� For Sophie, that could be considered a lifetime.

Rising to her knees, she removed the popped corn from the flames and carried the skillet into the breakfast nook. Pensively, she emptied their afternoon snack into a bowl and poured two mugs of instant hot chocolate. From the bathroom, she could hear Peter's shower running. Despite the clanging of the inn's old pipes, she found the sound comforting.

Maybe too comforting�

His morning chores with Gianni finished, Peter returned, and headed straight into the shower, expecting that he and Sophie would spend the afternoon together. More often than not, Sophie would lock the door, change into a little something - or maybe nothing - and they'd end up skipping lunch in favor of a more urgent hunger, the world outside ceasing to exist.

Only in the past few days, had Sophie begun to have that nagging feeling that their little hideaway was hiding more than either of them wanted to admit.

Today, without thinking, she'd changed into Peter's blue shirt. Finding it draped over one of the chairs in the nook, Sophie had grabbed it without a second thought. But, now, as she stirred the cocoa, Sophie wondered if she had really chosen "that" shirt - the shirt Peter had been wearing on their first evening together - purely by coincidence?

All the typical, trite cliches began running through Sophie's head.
Full circle�beginning and end�alpha and omega�

Troubled, Sophie ignored the cocoa and reached for her trusty travel sack. With that sack, slung over her shoulder, and one duffel bag, Sophie had everything she ever needed to make a quick getaway. Curling up on the upholstered cushions by the bay window, Sophie unlaced the sack and peered inside.

They were all there: the few cherished possessions she was never without. Her teaching credentials, hard-earned, not to mention her sole source of income; her passport, nearly out of pages after only three years; her beloved goddesses of wisdom, acquired throughout her travels; and, oddly enough, for a woman unable to have children - a baby name book.

Ever since she was a little girl, Sophie had delighted in her father's story of how she got her name, of how she was more beautiful to him than the most exquisite cathedral he had ever seen, Haiga Sophia, and so he had named her Sophie. The name meant wisdom�a gift Alexander Becker prized above all for his beautiful new daughter.

Almost as soon as she could read, Sophie had asked her father for a book that would tell her what everybody's name meant. By the age of seven, she was stopping perfect strangers on the street, asking them their name, and then whipping out her book to tell them all about themselves. Her hobby amused her unconventional father almost as much as it aggravated her refined mother. Of course, her mother's refinement didn't stop her from cheating on Sophie's father, but that was a story for another day.

Even after learning that she couldn't have children, Sophie treasured the book her father had given her. It was tattered and worn, but it had served her well. Traveling as she did, Sophie often found herself needing to make quick judgments about people that she met along the way. Of course, her intellect and gut instinct came first, but if there were ever a doubt, Sophie would turn to her faded old friend and read up on Patrick, Penelope, or even - Peter.

Peter...

Sophie wasn't embarrassed to admit she'd researched Peter's name within twenty-four hours of their meeting. Not because she had any doubts about his character. In fact, it was just the opposite. Sophie felt so sure about Peter that she could hardly wait to have the book prove her right.

And on page 285, it did just that. Peter = rock, touchstone, foundation. Sophie still smiled whenever she thought of it. She had felt at home with Peter right from the start. Intuitively, she just knew. He would be her homebase, someone she could always count on - her rock, her touchstone. Peter's name suited him, more than he would ever know - and always would - no matter the geographic distance between them.

Rummaging through her travel sack, Sophie pulled out a piece of paper she'd been successfully avoiding since she arrived on Vashon: an offer to teach in Zimbabwe for one year, starting next week. Free room and board, small stipend, plus the opportunity to explore the country and help the children learn and thrive and make a difference for years to come.

It was the sort of offer Sophie never refused. It was how she lived her life - free of boredom and commitment, yet allowing herself to feel productive and needed all at the same time. And, if there happened to be some exotic locale or adventure thrown in, in the bargain, so much the better.

She'd had every intention of calling to accept the job after she returned from her motorcross race. But, that was before her broken leg�before she met Peter�before these last two weeks.

That is, until these last few days�

Peter had been doing wonderfully - no drugs or liquor since his overdose. But, like a wild cub raised in captivity, how could he ever know if he could survive in the world, if he never left Vashon?

He'd taken to going for a morning run before his chores with Gianni began. Exercise seemed to fill some of the void left by the drugs and alcohol. But, was that necessarily a good thing? Maybe she was just another convenient substitution, too? Another means of ignoring his pain?

Deep down, Sophie knew better. But, she also knew how restless she was beginning to feel herself. Vashon was a lovely place, and being with Peter made it even lovelier, but there was a world out there, waiting for both of them, and they had to find their ways - separately.

It was time.

So, this morning, after Peter left, Sophie had phoned the Zimbabwe consulate and accepted their kind offer to see their country and work to educate their children. Her plane would leave tomorrow.

Now, all she had to do was tell Peter.

"Soph, have you seen my blue shir�?" Peter stepped out of the bathroom, with a towel around his neck, his jeans zipped but not buttoned. He took one look at Sophie, sitting there by the window, with her knees pulled up to her chin, clad only in his shirt, and stopped short.

"Oh," he said with a grin.

Quickly, Sophie stuffed the employment letter back into her travel sack and rose to greet him. Suddenly, every second seemed so precious.

"You want it back?" she asked seductively, wrapping her arms around his neck and tempting him with a kiss.

Happily, Peter drew her to him: one hand at her back, pressing her close, the other dipping below the hem of his shirt to caress her thigh. His lips parted at the feel of her breasts rising against his chest. Life didn't get much better than this.

Except, of course, for�

Hungry, Peter trailed his kisses to Sophie's cheek and murmured hopefully, "Mmmm�Is that popcorn I smell?"

Flushed, Sophie pulled away slightly and smirked. "You've got to be kidding�"

With a boyish shrug, Peter made a beeline for the popcorn bowl and popped a few kernels in his mouth. "Man cannot live on love alone, Sweetheart�"

Peter's light-hearted fun and dazzling grin prompted a wistful, faraway look in Sophie's eyes. For a split second, she stilled, wanting to memorize him, just as he was now. She would tuck this moment safely in her heart, forever.

Sighing, Sophie joined Peter in the breakfast nook and indulged him in his playfulness. "Why do you think I made the hot chocolate?" she quipped, patting his chest as she walked by.

"You're a good woman, Sophie Becker," Peter intoned, oh-so-seriously.

"Why, thank you�" Smiling, Sophie stirred the mugs, took a sip of her cocoa to taste, and then offered Peter his.

Unexpectedly, his hand trembled as he took it, causing some of the chocolate to spill, onto his hand and the table. Peter's symptoms of withdrawal - cold sweats, tremors - still appeared without warning.

"Damn!" Peter wrestled with the cocoa and his demons.

"Easy," Sophie calmed, grabbing the towel from around his neck. "Did you burn yourself?"

"No." Annoyed, Peter set the mug on the table and sucked the chocolate from his hand. "No, I'm fine."

"Peter�" Sophie knew better and said so with her eyes.

Peter's anger softened at her tone. Sophie had never been anything but honest with him. He owed her the same.

"Okay, maybe I'm not fine yet," he admitted quietly, "but I will be."

Sophie bit her lip and nodded, fighting the emotions swirling within her. Peter was so incredibly determined to win his battle. But, would he be as determined when she was gone?

The professional counselor in her told her Peter needed to beat his addictions all on his own. But the frightened woman in her - the one who ran whenever her heart told her it was too dangerous to stay - wasn't all that sure.

Troubled, Sophie walked toward the fire and stared deeply into its embers. Why was this so hard? Why couldn't she find the strength to tell him?

"There's a good AA program in the city," she suggested weakly, avoiding his gaze. "You might be ready for something like that now."

Sophie closed her eyes and cringed. Suddenly, every word coming out of her mouth sounded hollow and detached, emotions foreign to her where Peter was concerned. What was wrong with her, anyway? After these past two weeks, did she really think it would be easy to say goodbye?

Sophie's mood shift had Peter puzzled. Wrongly, he assumed his tremors were the cause.

"AA?" Wanting to please her, he agreed to take the next step.

"Okay," he promised, coming up behind her and placing his hands on her shoulders. "Maybe we could go into the city together tomorrow?"

Peter's eagerness to include Sophie in his recovery, only succeeded in making her feel worse. Long-term plans were not in her vocabulary.

"Oh, just tell him!" her mind screamed. "Sorry, gotta go�tickets are non-refundable�"

Instead, Sophie lowered her head, "Peter�"

At a loss, Peter tried to turn her around to face him, but Sophie wouldn't budge. "Soph, I'm trying� What more can I say?"

"Nothing�" Sophie pursed her lips. "You don't have to say anything."

Peter had it all wrong and it was up to her to tell him. "It's me, Peter... I'm the one who needs to say something."

"I'm just not sure I can do it face-to-face," she added softly.

Slowly, Peter began to realize that this was about more than just his tremors, or AA, or spilled cocoa�

"Then we'll do it back-to-back," he resolved, before Sophie could object.

Hearing whatever Sophie was trying to say was bound to be easier that way - for both of them.

"Back-to-back?" Surprised, Sophie felt him tug at her hand.

Making sure that their eyes never met, Peter led her gently backwards, down onto the rug, to sit by the fire.

"It was my Mom's idea," he recalled fondly, sitting cross-legged on the rug. "Whenever my brother, Mark, and I would fight. She'd have us sit like this until we made up."

Restless, Sophie pulled her knees up to her chin again, hugging them tight. Instantly, she could feel the heat of Peter's body, from the tip of her head, clear down her spine. His familiar warmth made her heart flip-flop.

"I'm not mad at you, Peter�" She fumbled to begin.

Peter smiled, loving the feel of her resting against him. "That's a good start," he noted with optimism.

"It's just�time." Sophie blurted that last word quickly, before she could lose her nerve.

Immediately, she felt Peter's back muscles stiffen. Vaguely, she could hear him gulp, as he swallowed the lump in his throat and repeated nervously, "Time?"

"Time�for me to go," Sophie clarified sadly.

Nodding, Peter closed his eyes. He'd half-convinced himself this moment might never come. Was Sophie leaving because they'd grown too close, he wondered, or not close enough? Was it his addictions, or his failed marriage, or just�

"Is it me?" he voiced helplessly, rolling all his thoughts into one.

"No, of course not." Distraught, Sophie struggled to reassure him. "It's me, Peter. I told you that. It's just the way I am."

"It's just�time," she finished bluntly.

Confused, Peter grappled with his feelings, and the etiquette of the situation. In just two weeks, Sophie had managed to save his life, fill his life, and now, she was turning it upside down.

Startled by just how much he wanted to ask her to give him - to give them - more of a chance, Peter forced himself to hold back.

What he felt for Sophie went far beyond just passion and lust, but was it really love?

Peter wasn't sure he even knew what love felt like anymore, on or off drugs. The debacle of his marriage had seen to that. But, Sophie filled his heart in ways that Chloe never had. She knew his faults, yet she still had faith in him. She laughed with him - and loved with him. She gave him a reason to want to get up in the morning.

Sophie had given him a thousand reasons to love her and the truth was he probably did already. But, he also had a thousand questions, only one of which mattered now�

"Where are you going?" Peter wasn't sure if he even had a right to ask.

"Zimbabwe�for a year�to teach," she explained briefly.

Silently, Peter mouthed the word "Zimbabwe" and shook his head. Apparently, when Sophie ran, she didn't kid around.

Grimacing, he figured he might as well hear it all. "When do you leave?"

Sophie hesitated. It would be so final after this�

"Tomorrow," she whispered, at last.

"Tomorrow!" Shocked, Peter forgot himself and, without thinking, he turned to face her. Sophie felt him begin to move and turned, too, facing him before he could remember and pull back.

Their eyes met and her hand covered his. "I'm sorry, Peter�" she said, with an ache in her voice - and in her heart - that she had never felt before.

Tenderly, Peter brought her hand to his lips. "I'm sorry, too."

Right from the start, he had promised Sophie that their relationship would last only as long as she wanted. How could he go back on that promise now, especially when he had absolutely nothing to offer her?

If going to Zimbabwe was something Sophie felt she had to do, then he'd respect her wishes - no matter how much it hurt.

Poignantly, Sophie traced his lips with her fingertips, then cupped his cheek in her hand. Peter was trying so hard to hide his pain, but it was all there� The set of his jaw, the sadness in his eyes�Sophie turned away in anguish.

Rising, she escaped toward the bed and wrapped her arms around the post, hugging it for dear life. Wearily, she let her forehead slump against it and shut her eyes tight to keep from crying. She wouldn't cry. She never cried.

More than anything in the world right now, Sophie wished for Peter to take her in his arms�to tell her that it was all right�that he understood�and to remind her that they'd always be friends - wherever life took them.

But, she couldn't ask that. She couldn't expect that. It was selfish and it was wrong. It was a part of her personality Sophie struggled with every day - breezing in and out of people's lives as if she were Mary Poppins - and expecting them to willingly accept it.

Maybe someday, she'd be courageous enough to stay and face her fears. Hopefully, Peter would be there when it happened. But, until that day ever came, she could, at least, be courageous enough to offer him a dignified way out tonight�

Determined, Sophie opened her eyes. Clearing her throat, she stared at one of the wall sconces and assured him, "If you want to leave now, it's okay�"

Peter watched her studiously, fascinated by the inner workings of Sophie Becker's mind. Amazingly, she seemed almost as upset as he was about her leaving. What was it in her past that made Sophie want to run? Didn't she know that your past haunted you whether you ran from New York to Seattle or from Seattle to Zimbabwe?

Wisely, Peter chose to keep such observations to himself. Sophie had given him a second chance at life, and, now, he would return the favor�

Rising, he stood by her side at the bedpost. With tenderness, he turned her around to face him.

"And if I want to stay?" he asked gently, as Sophie blinked back her tears.

"And hold you?" his finger lifted her chin.

"And take you as far as the ferry�" his eyes met hers.

"And write to you in Zimbabwe�" he added with a tiny, crooked smile.

"Would that be okay, too?" Softly, Peter stroked her hair, waiting for Sophie's reply.

It came in the form of a crinkled grin and an overjoyed sigh. Sophie's wish had come true. Peter would be a part of her life always.

"Very okay�" she smiled.

With a new light in her eyes, Sophie placed her hands on Peter's bare chest. Traveling through its luxurious forest of black hair, she roamed lovingly, caressing upwards to his broad shoulders and then down his muscular arms. This night would be bittersweet for both of them.

Peter understood. Slowly, he began to unbutton his blue shirt from Sophie's body, delighting as she leaned her head back against the bedpost and uttered a soft moan or pleasured sigh each time he undid a button and covered her revealed flesh with his lips.

His hands followed, fondling and stroking her until every pore in Sophie's body ignited. Breathless, she locked her arms tightly around his neck and lifted herself up, wrapping her legs around Peter's waist. With a low growl, he clutched her to him and carried her to the bed, their fervent kiss lasting just long enough for Peter to lay Sophie down gently and rid himself of his jeans.

As the evening flowed from one exquisite moment to the next, a fragile peace and single certainty filled them both.

This night would not be their last�

^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Lulled by the quiet serenity of Sophie's reminiscence, it took Sully a few seconds to hear it. The slow, trickling sound sent shivers rippling throughout his very being. Alarmed, he reached down to feel the soil beneath his feet.

Images he'd thought buried a lifetime ago confronted him with stark and brutal recognition. This couldn't happen again.

Terrified, Sully watched helpless, unable to do more than shudder.

"No�"

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