Gwen's Journey Ch. 09

She shuffled to the hospital bed and climbed onto it, feeling antsy to get out and on her way. She was supposed to be released the day after the next, and she had absolutely no idea what was going to happen. She'd lost her job at the plant, her boyfriend wasn't allowed to see her, and her best friend had disappeared off the face of the Earth.

There was a tap on her door, and Gwen flipped her blanket over her leg, which had been exposed from mid-thigh down. The door opened, and Gabby wheeled Steve into the room in a wheelchair. As nonchalantly as possible, Gwen flipped the blanket back off of her leg. She looked at Steve, drinking him in and unable to wipe the smile from her face, until she saw Gabby.

"Aw crap," Gwen said, laying back against the pile of pillows.

"What," Gabby asked, deadpan, "you'll only do me with a bag over my head?"

"I'm glad you're better," Gwen said, and then returned her attention to Steve and added, "and you too. I was really worried about you."

"Ha!" Steve exclaimed. "I thought you died in my arms!" Steve laughed and looked back over his shoulder at Gabby. Gwen saw her hand on his shoulder, rubbing lower, affectionately.

Gwen looked up and saw tears filling her sky blue eyes. Gabby's perfect pink lips formed one word, and Gwen closed her eyes and sighed dramatically. "I'm really sorry, but I'm wiped," Gwen said, "Can I come visit you when I get released?"

"Uh, sure," Steve said, confused by her sudden change of mood. "Yeah, come see me any time."

* * * * *

Gabby looked delightful in a tan pantsuit, when she burst excitedly into Steve's room. He smiled at her, but it faded quickly when he read her expression. "Gabby," he said, feeling like Ricky Ricardo, "What happened?"

"I'm sorry Steve," Gabby said, pacing at the foot of his bed. "I had a weak moment, and when we were with Gwen yesterday, well, I told her that I wanted you and asked her to let me have you."

"I was there!" Steve said, sitting up. "You never said-"

"It's a girl thing, Steve," Gabrielle waved away his argument. "Look, the point is, Gwen's gone."

"What?" Steve cried, falling back to his pillows. "How?"

"We don't know." Gabby stopped pacing and leaned on the foot of the bed. "All I can tell you is that at four o'clock this morning the nurse checked her vitals. At six thirty her breakfast was delivered, but she was not in her bed. When the nurses went in to check on her at seven thirty, she wasn't there and her breakfast was untouched."

"Goddammit!" Steve shouted. "A weak moment! You have a lot of weak moments."

"I need you tonight," Gabrielle quoted, and Steve's temper cooled considerably.

"Point taken," he conceded. "What do we do now?"

* * * * * ...Three months later, and two thousand miles away...

Sarah Lipton lay on a towel under the Santa Barbara sun, the sound and smell of the ocean soothing her. A wide straw hat protected the fair skin of her face, while the daringly cut black one-piece swimsuit made generous use of sunscreen a necessity. She was a stunning woman, or at least Paul, the muscular surfer who was rubbing SPF 20 into her thighs with great care, thought so. He saw that the corner of her mouth was quirked, making her appear to be leering at him lustfully.

"Let's go back to your place,' Sarah said, her girlish voice making the hairs on the back of Paul's neck bristle. "You do know how to rub a girl the right way."

"Yeah, sure," Paul said, getting to his feet, a semi forming in his board shorts. He'd just scored a bottle of Viagra, and he looked forward to spending some real quality time with this babe.

"Beat it, Punk," a deep, rumbling voice said, and Paul turned to face the interloper. Sarah couldn't see him because of her hat, but she saw Paul's expression as he looked up into the face of the intruder. She saw his jaw hanging open as he gulped.

"Uh," Paul looked at Sarah, "Later!" She watched the tightly muscled hard body running away down the beach and sighed.

"Get up," the intruder said, and Sarah stood. She brushed sand from her body and held her hat on her head as she looked up into his face. He wore a gray suit and a red tie, and his face was very stern. Maybe even angry?

"You look good," she said as he handcuffed her arms behind her back. He took her elbow and escorted her up the beach toward the parking lot. "My stuff!" Sarah cried, looking back at her towel and sunscreen, but he didn't slow.

"So," she ventured, "How've you been?"

"You have the right to remain silent," Steve said, "and I hope to god that you decide to use it."

"Why are you here?" she asked when they got to the sedan. He opened the rear door and assisted her inside.

"Jeez, Gwen!" Steve hissed.

"It's Sarah now," she said, and Steve rolled his eyes as he slammed her door.

They drove for hours, sitting in Los Angeles traffic much of the time. She sat contentedly in the center of the back seat, gazing with a smile at the back of his head, or his eye in the rear view mirror. She could smell him, too, and that helped to make her happy. She had tried to engage him in conversation, but he continued to ignore her. The only time she got any reaction was when she went too far in her goading.

"Hey," she'd said, "remember that time we were making out and you came all over me? Good times." His response had been to turn on the radio to news/talk and turn the volume way up.

The sun was setting when they pulled into a parking structure attached to a tall commercial office building in downtown Los Angeles. She felt very out of place suddenly, being escorted into a professional environment dressed in a daring bathing suit and sun hat. Her pulse quickened, and she wondered if she was really in trouble after all.

They stepped out of the elevator onto the thirtieth floor, directly into the lobby of Driscoll Investigations & Surveillance. The receptionist was pretty, a cute little blonde, and she ignored Steve and Sarah as he dragged her down a hallway and into a large conference room. He put her into a large leather seat and removed the cuffs from her wrists before sitting directly across the table from her.

"What?" Sarah said pleasantly, "No hug?"

Steve's chair shot out behind him as he leaped to his feet. He leaned on the conference table, his reddened face jutting toward Sarah. Oh my god, she thought, he is so hot!

The conference room door opened, and Sarah looked up at Gabrielle as she entered, followed by a tiny little brunette woman in moderate heels. The brunette sat at the head of the table, and Gabrielle took the seat next to her, next to Steve. She looked at Gabby, who was if anything more beautiful than ever, and then at the brunette, who seemed familiar. She looked a little bit like...

"Ronnie?" Gwen smiled. "Is that really you? What happened to your hair? Where are your tits?"

"I go by Veronica now," she said, smiling warmly. "I have a friend who showed me how important a name can be. I have another friend who showed me that I can be proud of who I am, without slicing and dicing and torturing myself to fit someone else's idea of beauty."

"Best of all," she continued as her smile disappeared, "I met a monster who showed me that there are important things to deal with in the world. I spent my life throwing good money after bad for no reason. Now I make a difference. We all make a difference."

"I am so confused," Gwen said.

"Really," Steve said, pulling his chair to the table again and sitting. "Who's confused? Gwen? Margaret, maybe? Or is it Sarah?"

"Why are you so pissed off?" Gwen said, crossing her arms and slumping in her chair.

"Because I love you and you left me!" Steve shouted, followed closely by an "Awww" from Veronica.

"Maybe I was using you," Gwen said, sounding like Maggie.

"Nope," Steve smiled. "Couldn't happen."

"Why the hell not?" Gwen demanded.

"Deathbed confession. You thought you were dying, and you confessed that you love me," he said triumphantly. "Call a lawyer. It's admissible in court."

"Oh, well," Gwen said, sitting up and bobbing her head, "That's all settled then. When's the wedding?"

"Three days," Steve said. "We have a two week honeymoon, and then we need to get back here for an assignment."

"What assignment?" Gwen asked, dumbfounded.

"You work for me now," Veronica said. "You're an employee of Driscoll Investigations & Surveillance, listed as Gwendolyn Salsbury. I hope you don't mind."

"What?" Gwen asked, more dumbfounded.

"I'm a Bridesmaid," Gabby said with a smile, but the smile disappeared quickly before she added, "and your boss." Gwen looked to Steve and her mouth opened, but no words came. "Don't even try," Gabby said, "I'm his boss too."

Gwen sat quietly for a little while, very aware that all eyes were on her. She looked at Steve until his anger drained away and he was smiling at her, and then she smiled back. She leaned forward, putting her elbows on the conference table and addressed Gabby.

"So, what will I be doing? Do I get a gun?" Gabrielle laughed. "Do I get to pick out my dress?"

"Sweetheart," Gabby said sweetly, "you will have the important functions of coordinating travel plans, securing lodgings, performing background checks, and telephone fact checking."

"I'm a secretary?" Gwen asked, looking to Ronnie for assistance.

"Talk to your husband to be," Ronnie laughed. When Gwen shot him a look, Steve sat back and smiled.

"I don't want my wife in any danger while she's pregnant," he said happily.

"I'm not your wife, and I'm not pregnant," Gwen shot back, heating up. Steve smiled.

"Not yet," he said.

* * * * *

Gwen stood on the balcony of the eighteenth floor hotel suite, looking out at the Pacific Ocean. She'd been married for over a week, and as much as she wanted to go out and see Hawaii, somehow Steve and she hadn't yet made it as far as the elevator. She was certainly glad for the quality of the room service at the resort. Her husband pressed against her, his arms wrapping around her and holding her possessively. She felt his lips on the top of her head, and she snuggled back into his hard body.

"Hi, Mrs. Kalinowski," Steve whispered, and Gwen rolled her eyes.

"Don't remind me," she said softly. "Can't we change it to Jones or something? Salsbury was cool."

"My wife will take my family name and like it," Steve growled, "and so will our many, many children."

"Sadist," Gwen giggled, trying to snuggle even closer. She turned in his arms and rose up onto her toes as he leaned down and kissed her soundly, lovingly, and Gwen smiled so broadly that their kiss broke.

Steve took Gwen's hand in his and pulled her after him back into the suite, all the way back to the bedroom. He shrugged off his robe, and Gwen ran her fingertips over the scar on his chest, from the bullet that almost took him from her. Getting to her toes again, Gwen tenderly kissed the scar.

Steve pushed the thick robe from Gwen's shoulders and frowned. He hadn't expected her to have put on the silky chemise she wore. Sliding one of the tiny straps from her shoulder, Steve said, "How do you expect to make a baby if you keep putting on clothes?"

"Because I love it when you take them off me," Gwen grinned, and Steve kissed her as he let the silk lingerie fall to the floor.

He lifted her easily and kissed her, laying her across the enormous bed. His lips found her navel, and she giggled uncomfortably. Her hands strayed to her belly, each covering a scar from her own shooting. Steve grasped her wrists and pulled her hands away from her scars, lovingly kissing each one in turn. Steve was breathing hard through his nose, and he climbed over Gwen, his hairy, muscular thighs easily parting hers.

"Uh," Gwen said, "I'm just a tad sore, so if we could just, I don't know, I mean, I know how much you like a good hand job." Steve entered her and Gwen arched, moaning, "Never mind."

Gwen took Steve's face in her hands, her thumbs at his temples, and she gazed into his eyes as he slowly moved inside her. He was her perfect lover, completely attentive to her needs, and more than able to fulfill her every desire. His every movement brought her pleasure, and she found her only desire was his satisfaction.

It didn't matter if they had two minutes or two hours, when she made love with Steve the rest of the world disappeared, and she felt whole. She gazed into his soft brown eyes and saw the fierce passion there. She had never felt loved before, not truly, undeniably loved, but when she looked into her husband's eyes that was what she saw.

Her eyes closed as a wave of ecstasy washed through her, making her moan softly. She felt herself contracting against Steve's hardness, and she bit her lip at the incredible sensations that resulted. She put her legs up behind him and gently rolled her hips, knowing how much he liked that, and well, she liked it too.

"Oh Gwen," Steve groaned, his breath catching in his throat, and she felt a flush inside her, as her husband filled her womb again. That triggered a crashing contraction, and Gwen cried out loudly as she came again, her orgasm slow and powerful.

Afterward, they lay on their sides, holding each other close. Gwen brushed her fingers across her husband's cheek as he smiled at her. She had just turned twenty-four years old, and her whole life lay before her. Her whole life with Steve. Gwen couldn't imagine anything that could make her happier than to be a wife and mother, a secretary, PTA member, soccer mom, bake sale coordinator, and lover to her husband.

"I love you, Steve," Gwen whispered, choking up.

"I love you too, Gwen," Steve whispered back. "Gwen Kalinowsky."

"Shut up," Gwen giggled, and she cuddled in very close as Steve put his big, muscular arms around her tightly.