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Date Posted: 09:38:58 03/30/03 Sun
Author: dqfan
Subject: Ghosts - ch.1,2 and 3

Ghosts
~by dqfan~


CHAPTER ONE Sunday

"Left hand, green…"

Peter could barely conceal his glee - or the devilish sparkle in his eyes - as he watched the wobbly arrow slow and, finally, stop on the exact spot he'd held his breath and hoped for.

In the year since Peter and Sophie had married, they had both grown to respect each other's likes and dislikes - in sports, in music, and even, in games.

Peter's faint recollections of the game, Twister, for example, had been the few times he played it as a child. A shy, intelligent boy, young Peter had found the game mentally unchallenging, physically ridiculous, and woefully uninteresting.

How times had changed! Watching Peter tonight, playing Twister with his very beautiful, and extremely flexible, new wife, he was, unquestionably, a man who had gained an entirely new perspective on the game.

Currently, Peter's particular perspective happened to be within inches of Sophie, who was, nevertheless, tilting as far out of his reach as possible with a mischievous grin plastered across her face.

Peter's strategy hadn't changed much in a year and Sophie knew her husband well enough by now to anticipate his every move. His approach was simple and direct: to tease, topple, and entwine them in the most provocative positions possible in as few turns as possible, thereby resulting in activities definitely not mentioned in the instruction booklet.

The debate over who had actually won or lost the game usually took hours and often required an immediate and prolonged re-match.

That the arrow had landed on "left hand, green," didn't surprise Sophie in the least. Peter seemed to possess the uncanny ability to "wish" the darn thing to stop at will. Innocently, he claimed to have inherited Sully's ability to call upon the Spirits but Sophie considered it far more likely that he'd rigged the wheel somehow.

Still, she wasn't exactly complaining as Peter leaned his body slowly into hers and balanced her securely against him as they fell to the floor.

"Left hand, green," Peter whispered triumphantly in Sophie's ear as he placed his hand upon the treasured circle.

Playfully, Sophie attempted to break away from him.

"Not so fast, Little Girl," he laughed, using his right hand to snatch her around the waist.

"I believe I won…" Peter proclaimed, pulling her close, his breath warm with victory.

"I believe you fell…" Sophie challenged, her fingers brushing the hair behind his ears as she rolled on top of him.

"I believe…" Peter's voice was deep with longing. "We should discuss this later…"

Feeling quite energetic from what was now, truly, his most favorite game in the whole wide world, Peter eagerly seized Sophie's mouth with his.

Blissfully, their soft moans of pleasure blended with the occasional rustle of the plastic Twister mat beneath their bodies, until…

The sharp ring of the telephone shattered the air.

"Peter…" Sophie murmured, reluctantly breaking their kiss. "The phone…"

"Let it ring…" Undeterred, Peter's lips merely traveled to Sophie's neck.

"But, it might be Frank…" she sighed, closing her eyes, trying to concentrate on anything but what Peter's hands were doing right now.

"Frank's hiking the Appalachians, school's out, it's summer vacation, and we're playing Twister…" With each excuse, Peter's passion grew and his lips ventured insistently lower.

Unfortunately, the phone only seemed to ring louder.

"Just see who it is…" Sophie gulped, "and then we'll take it off the hook," she promised.

Frustrated, Peter reached up to the coffee table and grabbed at the receiver like a raging pit bull.

"What!" he barked, out of breath.

"Peter, it's Charity…" the voice answered.

"Now is NOT a good time, Aunt C." Peter was on the verge of hanging up.

"Peter, this is serious…" she challenged.

Although everything was always serious where Charity was concerned, there was something about his aunt's tone of voice that made Peter stop before replacing the phone on the hook.

And, in that brief pause, Peter listened to three words he never thought he'd hear.

"I need you…." Charity admitted quietly.

Peter's entire demeanor changed in that one split second. Instantly, he sat straight up, bringing a stunned Sophie along with him as he did so.

"Where are you?" he asked urgently. "Colorado Springs?"

"No, Las Vegas…" Charity answered.

"What hotel?" Peter was about to reach for pen and paper.

"No hotel…" There it was again - that catch in Charity's voice. "Peter, I'm in the Las Vegas County Jail."

Peter's eyes raised to the ceiling as he considered the possibilities: parking ticket, women's rally, maybe some old building about to be torn down…

Charity saved him the trouble. "I've been arrested for attempted murder."

If Charity didn't have Peter's undivided attention before, she sure as Hell had it now.

"I'll be on the next flight," Peter mumbled, stunned.

"Peter, wait!" Charity shouted, afraid he'd be in such a rush for the airport that he'd hang up on her. "I need you to bring the locket."

Although the lighting in the room had been set low and romantic for their little game, Sophie clearly saw the color drain from Peter's face.

"Aunt C…." Peter hesitated, but Charity was too intent to notice.

"Peter, it could be my only chance," Charity added for emphasis, though none was needed for her godson to grasp the gravity of the situation.

"Come soon?" she asked humbly.

Too shaken to speak, Peter could only nod at first. Then, recovering quickly, he broke the silence.

Hearing his voice crack slightly, he vowed, "I'm there already."

^^^^^^^^^

CHAPTER TWO Monday

"What was she doing in Las Vegas?" Sophie questioned Peter, as their plane reached cruising altitude.

Nervously, Peter tapped his fingers on his tray table.

"Attempted murder…that's just ridiculous!" Sophie continued her one-sided conversation, not noticing that her husband was a million miles away.

"What's the first thing we should do to help her?" Sophie wondered aloud.

"Bail…? Will they let her out on bail?" Sophie began answering her own questions now.

Slowly, a few of Sophie's words began filtering into Peter's consciousness.

"Help her…"

Peter rubbed his temples with the pads of his fingers and fumed silently. "Might've helped if I'd brought the one damned thing she asked me to…"

Oh, he was so furious with himself! Furious at his past…at his mistakes…at his entire life. How had everything fallen apart so quickly?

"Drink, Sir?" the flight attendant interrupted his private tirade.

"Whiskey," Peter replied without thinking.

"Peter…?" Sophie couldn't believe what she'd just heard.

Until now, Sophie had attributed Peter's moodiness to Charity's predicament but, suddenly, she wasn't so sure.

"What? Oh… Uh…make that coffee…black…strong," he corrected absent-mindedly.

If he couldn't drown his problems in alcohol, he could at least spike his adrenaline with a little caffeine.

"Peter, are you all right?" Sophie asked, obviously concerned. "I mean, I know you're upset about Charity…"

"She said it, Soph," Peter noted softly.

"Said it?" Sophie placed her hand gently over Peter's and tried to understand.

"She said, 'I need you…'" he clarified.

"Lawsons don't say 'I need you,'" Peter seemed amazed at Charity's confession still. "They NEVER say 'I need you.'"

"Don't worry, Peter…we'll help her…" Sophie vowed, trying to reassure her husband - and herself.

For Sophie's sake, Peter tried to appear positive. But how could he be when the only fact he was truly positive of was Charity's one request? A request he couldn't fulfill… A moment he'd gambled would never come.

Feeling more and more desperate with each passing minute, Peter sipped his coffee and tried very hard not to stare at the tiny whiskey bottles rattling on the beverage cart nearby.

^^^^^^^^

CHAPTER THREE

Sophie sat in the backseat of the cab wondering just who this stranger was sitting next to her. Peter had hardly spoken two sentences in the last hour - and what he had said hadn't exactly calmed her fears…

"The desert - in the summer - don't say I never take you anywhere," Peter joked pitifully as they exited the air-conditioned airport and stepped out into the oppressive heat just long enough to hail a cab.

Sophie tried to smile. She tried to believe that Peter was coping with Charity's startling news, but every bone in her body was telling her that her husband was in trouble. Now, the question was, why?

"Ever been here before?" Sophie decided light conversation was probably the best approach for the moment.

Peter took an extra minute to answer and, when he did, there was a faraway look in his eyes. "You might say that…." he said softly, glancing off into the distance. "Chloe and I were married here."

Stunned, Sophie couldn't say much except, "Oh…"

"You asked…" Peter shrugged, wondering if anyone could ever really escape the ghosts in their pasts.

Growing more and more disheartened, he added cynically, "Great little town, Vegas: booze, drugs, gambling - all within a ten-mile radius."

Then, without giving Sophie even a minute to recover from all he'd told her, Peter finished quite succinctly, "This place is an addict's dream, Soph…"

Although everything he'd just said was one hundred percent true, inwardly, Peter regretted his jaded commentary. Sophie didn't deserve to bear the brunt of his frustration. But, it would have been difficult enough to return to Las Vegas under the best of circumstances. To arrive without Charity's one means of salvation was tearing Peter apart inside.

Turning his face toward the car window, Peter watched as the open desert slowly transformed itself into an unnatural world of glitter and lights.

"Tell her…" Suddenly, Peter could hear his father's voice bellowing in his head. "Be a man! Go on and tell them both!"

Charity and Sophie: the two women he loved most in the world. He was going to have to witness the disappointment in their eyes - the same disappointment he'd seen in his father's eyes when he "wished he had a son he could be proud of."

Maybe that son didn't exist? Maybe that man didn't exist?

Nervously, Peter's fingers began tapping again, this time on the windowsill of the car. And as he tapped, Peter churned the mistakes of his life over and over in his head. Why did it seem that no matter how hard he tried, no matter how much he changed, or how many years had passed, he'd forever be reminded of the man he once was and not the man he wanted to be?

The man he thought he'd finally become…

Sophie really hadn't known how to react to Peter's brutally honest revelations. She had no idea that he and Chloe had been married in Las Vegas. Sadly, she realized how very little she knew of his first marriage. Obviously, whatever was bothering Peter had to do with his past, and with his previous addictions. Sophie could only hope he'd talk to her when he was ready. Until then, she reached out, tentatively, the only way she could.

Peter felt it at once. Sophie's reassuring hand on his knee. No words, no badgering, just a gentle pat that said, "I'm here…"

It was such a small gesture and yet Peter's heart nearly broke from the intimacy of it. God, how he loved her! He could spend the rest of his life trying to show her how much and he'd never come close. But the torment he was feeling right now was too powerful to share with anyone, even Sophie.

Valiantly, Peter bit his lip and struggled to focus his gaze on the passing landscape, his emotions teetering dangerously on the edge. After a few minutes, he felt strong enough to slowly cover Sophie's hand with his own. Thankfully, somehow, he managed to keep it there for the rest of the ride into town.

It wasn't much of a response but it was all Peter could offer at the moment. He was holding her…he was trying…and, for now - that would have to be enough.

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