Re: Ghosts - ch.41 -- The Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman Fan Exchange

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Date Posted: 16:44:35 04/25/03 Fri
Author: dqfan
Subject: Re: Ghosts - ch.41
In reply to: dqfan 's message, "Re: Ghosts - ch.40" on 14:14:49 04/23/03 Wed

CHAPTER FORTY ONE

"Sophie�"

The voice was calling to her from so very far away.

"Sophie�C'mon, you gotta wake up."

"Hmmm? What?" Sophie's head hurt, her body hurt - everything hurt. But still the voice kept echoing in her head.

"Try and open your eyes."

It took almost every ounce of strength she possessed, but Sophie's eyelids soon began to flutter and, finally, strain open.

The darkness was so enveloping that Sophie could barely see the cold, gravelly surface, upon which she lay. Her throat choked with dust and dirt, she flicked her tongue to moisten her lips and coughed. The warm, horribly familiar, taste of blood brought her fully awake with a fright.

"There, that's better�" the voice sounded relieved.

Sophie's brain was beginning to function, albeit fuzzily. But she was alert enough to recognize she'd heard that voice more than a few times before.

"Sully?" she called to him, trying to adjust to the lack of light.

"Right here," he replied, kneeling down beside her. "Can you sit up?"

"Sit up?" Sophie would have laughed if she'd thought it wouldn't hurt so much.

"Take it slow�nice and easy�" Sully encouraged. "The footbridge pillar is right behind you. Lean back against it for support."

Sophie took a deep breath and winced. There was a sharp pain in her side - probably a broken rib. Had it punctured her lung, she wondered?

Taking slow, shallow breaths, she was, at last, able to lift her head. Unfortunately, her hands were still handcuffed behind her back. Gingerly, Sophie stretched out her legs and maneuvered them perpendicular to her torso. Then, using all her upper body strength, Sophie propelled herself upright, her cries of agony resonating throughout the empty tunnel.

Exhausted, she collapsed back against the pillar and closed her eyes.

"Knew you could do it," Sully smiled in the darkness.

"That makes one of us," Sophie groaned, hoping she wouldn't pass out.

"Where's the blood coming from?" she asked, tasting the trickle once again.

"Cut on your forehead," Sully answered succinctly, though the simple description hardly did Sophie's injury justice. There was a nasty gash that extended from her forehead all the way to her left temple. It was filled with dirt and small pebbles and, even worse, it was still bleeding.

"How do you feel?" Sully asked gently. "Anything broken?"

"A rib, maybe." Sophie rotated her shoulders and wiggled her fingers.

"What happened to me?" she wondered aloud. "The last thing I remember was Ivy coming at me with a gun."

"She blindsided you with it. Then, her Sheriff friend dumped you down here," Sully told her.

"Great�" Sophie stretched her legs a little more, grimacing in pain.

"What's wrong?" Sully noticed instantly.

"It's my ankle," she flinched. "It's the same one I broke just before my wedding. It always acts up when it rains - or when I've been flung into a ditch�" she added sarcastically.

"Think you broke it again?" Sully worried, knowing all too well the challenges Sophie would face before this day was out.

"I don't think so." Sophie moved it carefully. "It's probably just sprained."

"Sprained, huh?" Nervously, Sully's eyes traveled the length of the tunnel. The nearest emergency ladder was around the next bend, over a thousand feet away.

"Why? What's wrong?" Sophie detected the worry in Sully's voice. "I mean, beside the fact that I'm bruised, bleeding and left here for dead?"

"Nuthin'." Sully shook his head. No reason to upset Sophie any further. Maybe it wouldn't come to that�

"Why don't you tell me a story to pass the time?" he suggested instead.

"Me? Tell you a story? Isn't it usually the other way around?" she quipped.

With a cocky grin, Sully settled himself against the adjoining corner of Sophie's pillar. "Why don't you finish that story you started last night?"

"What story?" Sophie didn't have a clue.

"You know," Sully nudged her gently. "The one about how you and Peter first got together."

"How did you know about that?" Sophie frowned with suspicion.

"You think Michaela was gonna let you fly off in a helicopter in the middle of the night with some man you never met?" Sully tightened his jacket with a smirk. "She'd a had my head if I didn't check up on you�"

"Check up or read my mind?" Sophie scowled.

"Same thing�" Sully chuckled.

"C'mon, remember that Christmas Eve at the homestead?" he urged her teasingly. "I told you about Virginia City�"

Sophie smiled in spite of her pain. That evening was one of the most special times she and Sully had ever shared. Hearing Sully tell of his and Michaela's passionate encounter in Virginia City had given Sophie all the courage she needed. She and Peter had renewed their commitment to each other - in body and soul - the very next day.

"You really want to know?" Sophie leaned her head back and swallowed hard. The pain was a steady throb now, impossible to ignore.

"Sure I do�" Sully was counting on Sophie's memories of the past to take her mind off the present. "Now, lemme see if I remember, Peter was sleepin' off the drugs and you'd just buried the box�"

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

"Sophie?" Peter's mouth was dry and his eyes and head ached, conditions not exactly improved by the brilliant morning sun, which was streaming through the cabin window.

"Well, hey there," Sophie turned from the window and her million and one thoughts. "Feeling better?"

"As compared to?" Peter groaned, wishing it had at least been a cloudy day to match his mood.

Shifting from his side onto his back, Peter lifted the covers a little and realized he wasn't wearing any clothes.

"Did I miss all the fun?" he asked, disappointed.

"You'd have to ask Gianni," she chuckled. "He undressed you."

"You are a cruel woman, Sophie Becker�" Peter moaned, running his hands through his hair and sitting up very slowly against the headboard.

"Any particular reason you always use both my names?" Sophie wondered with a smile, enjoying their banter far too much.

"Just like 'em." In spite of his headache, Peter smiled right back. "Anything wrong with that, Sweetheart?" he teased.

"Not a thing, Darlin'," she laughed, handing him a cup of fresh, black coffee she'd made just this morning.

Peter took one sip and scowled. "Is this supposed to cure me?"

"Couldn't hurt�" Sophie shrugged innocently. "Drink up."

"What's the hurry?" Peter swallowed his poison. "We going somewhere?"

"You're gonna help Gianni mow the lawn in an hour or he's planning on making you swim back to Seattle," she informed him in all seriousness.

"Whataguy�" Peter deadpanned. Then, as if he'd just heard what she said, Peter's eyes lit up. "So, we have an hour?" he asked optimistically, then patted the bed for Sophie to sit beside him.

Sophie bit the inside of her cheek and tried not to smile. Peter was pale, hungover and weak but, apparently, not too weak� And the offer was very, very, tempting. But, there was something she had to know first.

"Did you want to call Chloe and tell her you're okay?" Sophie asked quietly.
Tracing the rim of her coffee cup with her index finger, she studiously avoided Peter's gaze.

Peter's smile dissolved with a heavy sigh. "I could�" he replied bitterly. "But she's in the Dominican Republic right now filing for our quickie divorce. At least, that's what she told me the last time she slammed the phone down in my ear."

Sophie nodded but didn't look up. Her coffee cup was becoming more fascinating by the minute. Like it or not, she had her answer. Peter was married.

"The Dominican Republic's beautiful this time of year," Sophie said softly.

"Sophie�" Peter could tell she was upset. "I was faithful to my marriage while I had one. But it's over. Chloe's my past now."

"Is that what you really want?" Sophie asked bluntly.

"Chloe and I will never be able to make it work," Peter said with conviction. "Our life in New York� She knows it's not good for me, but she loves it so much�a lot more than she loves me."

There was such sadness in Peter's voice it nearly broke Sophie's heart. But, her heart could be broken worse still by an affair with a married man.

As much as Sophie felt herself falling for Peter, she wasn't about to take this next step lightly.

"You'd better get dressed�" Sophie gulped down the last of her coffee and headed for the door.

"I'll go tell Gianni you're awake�"

^^^^^^^^^^^

"You needed time to think," Sully commented astutely.

"Uh-huh�" Sophie winced from the pain.

"But it was useless," she smiled wanly. "Nothing I could tell myself was going to change how I felt. You know, that feeling you get when you touch someone's hand or look into their eyes�"

"Or see 'em fall face down in the mud," Sully recalled wistfully.

"You just know�" Sophie sighed.

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

The verdent lawns of the Vashon Inn sloped gently down to the shore, a small pier jutting quaintly from the rocks. It was there, on that somewhat secluded patch of nature, where Peter was hard at work.

"Brought you some lemonade," Sophie announced brightly, as Peter wiped the sweat from his brow. It wasn't that warm but Peter's t-shirt was nearly soaked through from the physical exertion. His body was having a hard enough time adjusting to going cold turkey from the drugs and alcohol, let alone mowing over half the Vashon grounds with a hand-held mower Gianni must have bought around the same time he purchased his first Sinatra album.

"What's in the basket?" Peter asked, taking the glass from her hand. Enjoying a long gulp of the cool liquid, he eyed the wicker basket Sophie had draped around her elbow.

Spreading out a blanket for them to sit on, Sophie opened the basket and announced cheerfully, "a picnic!"

"And your flannel shirt," she said, tossing it up to him and smiling as Peter caught it easily with one hand. "You'd better change or you'll catch a chill."

"Anything you say, Mom," Peter teased her, placing his empty lemonade glass on the blanket and lifting his sweaty t-shirt off over his head.

Sophie bit her lip, feeling not at all maternal as she gazed upon Peter's naked chest, glistening in the mid-day sun. How long could she pretend the attraction between them wasn't there? Why did she even want to?

As he buttoned his shirt, Peter's eyes locked with hers. He was thinking the same thing, she could tell. It was almost as if they didn't need to talk at all.

But they did talk - about everything except how they felt, that is. As they feasted on fried chicken and potato salad, fresh from Gianni's kitchen, Peter told her of his life in New York, his career as a stockbroker, his spiralling descent into a world of easy fixes and hopeless addiction.

By the time they'd finished eating, Peter realized, a bit guiltily, that he'd been doing most of the talking. Somehow, in addition to being beautiful, Sophie possessed the amazing ability to draw him outside of himself and view both his failings and his successes in a more even light.

Incredibly, Peter had talked more to Sophie Becker in that one afternoon than he had to his wife or his father in over a year.

With an impish grin, Peter shifted the topic of conversation back to Sophie. "So, what about you, Sophie Becker?" he asked with a rejuvenated sparkle in his eyes.

"Me?" Sophie had been so engrossed in Peter's life story that it took a moment for his question to sink in. "What about me?"

"Didn't I just ask that?" Peter quipped, but he could tell Sophie seemed disturbed.

"Husband? Parents? Kids?" he inquired gently. "Any of the above?"

Sophie took a deep breath as she pondered her reply. She'd spent many years building the walls that protected her emotions. Her life story was definitely not a book that Sophie enjoyed reading aloud.

"No. Yes. No." she answered succinctly, clearing the leftovers and praying that Peter's questions would end.

"I brought grapes for dessert. Hope that's okay?" she changed the subject lightly.

"Suuure�" Peter muttered, wondering what story Sophie could possibly tell that would ever be worse than his own.

Letting it go for the moment, Peter stretched out on the blanket, put his head back and stared up at the clouds. "Sky's so big out here," he marveled. "Reminds me of when I was a kid."

"I thought you grew up in the city?" Confused, Sophie stretched out, too, placing the grapes in a bowl between them.

"I did." Peter nodded, secretly pleased that she'd settled in so comfortably beside him. "But my mother's family had a ranch in Colorado."

"That's beautiful country," Sophie agreed, relaxing.

"Is there any place you haven't been," Peter chuckled, enjoying himself more and more.

"Have parachute, will travel�" Sophie made light of her life once again.

Peter groaned in bemused frustration. "So, Ms. Becker, when the stork dropped you on that very first jump," he kidded her mercilessly. "Where exactly did you land?"

Sophie shook her head with a laugh. Peter's tenacity would serve him well in his struggles ahead. "Newfoundland," she rewarded his persistence with a tidbit of information and an affectionate smirk. "Now, here, have a grape."

Hoping to stop Peter's questions by stopping his mouth, Sophie plucked a grape from the dish and, impulsively, brought it to Peter's lips.

All afternoon they'd been relying on playful banter and casual conversation to mask the burgeoning sexual tension between them, which threatened to ignite with, even, the slightest spark. But, like an elephant in a closet, their attraction was fast becoming impossible to ignore.

Sophie had been so anxious to distract Peter from his inquiries into her past she hadn't really thought ahead to how the simple brush of his lips against her fingertips would arouse them both.

As she lay there, propped on one elbow, looking down into Peter's eyes, there was no mistaking the desire she saw in them. Certain that her own eyes mirrored his, Sophie felt her heart begin to pound and her breathing quicken.

Gently, Peter pulled her fingers into his mouth along with the grape, nibbling lightly before releasing them with a kiss. Reluctant to end the moment, Sophie allowed her fingertips to travel along Peter's lower lip, relishing its softness, in such sharp contrast to the rough stubble on his chin.
Mesmerized, her fingers continued their loving, almost hypnotic, exploration of his handsome features.

Peter lay there, as still as possible, not wanting to rush Sophie into anything she wasn't ready for. He'd wait willingly, with as much patience as he could manage. But, for all his well-intentioned control, if Sophie kissed him right now, Peter was pretty certain what would happen. They'd end up making love right there on the blanket, in broad daylight, not caring if Gianni or anyone else happened by. One kiss�that was all it would take. He knew it. And Sophie knew it, too.

Peter winced inside, supposing that he couldn't possibly have looked any more unappealing in grungy jeans, rumpled flannel shirt and day-old beard. He had planned on showering and shaving after he mowed the lawn. This picnic, and Sophie's loving caresses, were more than he could ever have imagined this day would hold.

Resting on that blanket, gazing up at Sophie, the sun illuminating her blonde hair, Peter found it easy to believe that there were such things as angels.

As Sophie's hand cupped his cheek, he moved her palm slowly and tenderly toward his lips. The power of his touch startled her from her reverie and, instantly, Sophie's mind overtook her heart.

"I�have to go�" she stammered, rising from the blanket, her face flushed. Sophie's internal thermostat was registering enough heat to melt titanium.

"Sophie�" Peter made no attempt to stop her, but his eyes made clear what
she already knew - there was no escaping the inevitable.

Sophie couched her awareness in a sigh. There was little chance that time or space could change what they were both feeling. Why was she even trying?

"How about dinner tonight at the inn?" she invited with a nervous smile. "Pick me up at seven?"

Reminding himself to be patient, Peter had only one objection. "Gianni�" Peter assumed he was still persona-non-grata in the old man's eyes.

"I'll clear it with him�don't worry," Sophie excused, racing up the lawn.

Falling back onto the blanket in frustration, Peter heard her promise.

"It's a date�"

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Re: Ghosts - ch.42 -- dqfan, 14:19:25 04/26/03 Sat