Love Among the Ruins Ch. 01

"I'm sorry," Damon sympathized. "I've never felt that strongly about it. To me, it is what it is. It's unspeakably horrible. But maybe no worse than what we could do to each other, if it came to it."

"I don't know what this all means," Bobi continued. "I don't know what will become of us."

Damon understood that she didn't just mean in the next few days or weeks or years.

"I'm sorry. I wish I could be of more comfort to you," he responded.

"How do you keep going after . . . after losing your family?" Bobi ventured after another long silence.

"I don't know really," he answered. "I just do. I guess it's just the will to live. I mean, what else is there for me to do? You just go on somehow. There's always the hope that somehow things can get better."

"It doesn't seem very likely right now, does it?"

"What, that things can get better? Well, things have gotten better for me today."

Bobi looked directly at Damon for the first time in their conversation, although she could barely make out his silhouette in the near-total darkness.

"You've got a point. Things have gotten better for me, too," she agreed.

"Well, I'll drink to that," Damon said, and drank down the remainder of his glass.

They sat in the quiet darkness as Bobi sipped on her wine. When she had finished, she stood.

"I think I need to sleep now," she said.

"Here, let me guide you to your room," Damon offered rising from his seat. "The way is dark."

He crossed over to her and offered her his arm. She took it and he led her through the darkened passages of his home to her bedroom.

Damon busied himself in his bedroom for a few minutes, then went to the kitchen to put away a few last things and get some water. As he passed Bobi's room he could dimly see her kneeling by the bed, hands clasped and head bowed in prayer. When he passed by again several minutes later, she hadn't moved.

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The next morning Bobi awakened to the smell of coffee. She wandered into the kitchen to find a large black-steel tripod burner set up near the stove. A rubber tube connected it to a portable butane tank on the floor. A kettle sat on the burner and there was a mug on the counter with a filter cone set up on it. Damon was nowhere to be seen.

"Hello?" Bobi called.

"In here," came Damon's voice from the living room.

Bobi found Damon sitting sentinel at the window, rifle in his lap.

"I thought I saw a floater," Damon explained. "I'm not sure because I don't have a great view. But there's not much else moving out there. Maybe it was a bird, but I don't think so. But they're not coming in here, not if they keep behaving the way they have been. I just want to keep track of them. So please don't worry."

She nodded with a worried expression. "If you say so."

"How did you sleep last night?"

"Like the dead. I was so exhausted."

"Would you like some breakfast?"

"Did I smell coffee?"

"You did! Let me get you a cup. No cream, I'm afraid, but I have sugar."

"Black is fine," Bobi answered.

"Spoken like a true barista!" Damon exclaimed with a grin.

Once in the kitchen Damon lit the gas burner and scooped some coffee grounds into the filter. After the water had boiled he poured it over the grounds and leaned back against the counter as the black drops slowly filled the mug.

"You look much more . . . collected today," Damon observed as they waited.

"I was pretty sleep deprived and stressed yesterday," Bobi confirmed. "I wish I could say I felt like everything was going to be ok today, but I don't think I can," she continued. "I feel like I'm . . . intruding on your life. If you don't want me here . . ."

"What? Are you kidding? Even if I didn't think you could be taken out by a floater the moment you walked out of here, why would I want you to leave? Alone in this big house . . . Why would I want that? You're the best company I could imagine. Besides, I think I have the best restaurant in town right now. So I think we're stuck with each other for a while."

"Well . . . if you say so. I do feel safe here. As safe as anyone could feel with things like they are now."

"Here, a cup of hot coffee will make you feel right at home," Damon said, handing her the steaming mug.

As Bobi sipped from it Damon brushed aside a few strands of greasy hair that had fallen in her eyes.

"I wish I could offer you better accommodations," he said. "I know that bathing in stinky pool water isn't very appealing."

"It beats sleeping on the floor of a Starbucks with no working toilets," she countered.

"I reckon it does, but still . . .

"Hey! I have an idea!" Damon suddenly exclaimed. "I don't know why I didn't think of this before. I have a rain barrel water collection system on one side of the house. I just use it for watering one of my side gardens. It's kind of away from the back door and pool and garage, so I guess that's why I hadn't thought of it before now. We've had a wet enough summer that I bet the barrel's pretty full. I'm not sure I'd want to drink that water, though we could in a pinch I suppose, if I boiled it. But it would be a hell of a lot better than pool water for bathing. We could heat it up and use it for shampooing our hair, at least."

"Sounds great!" Bobi enthused. "My scalp is starting to get itchy. I'd love to get it clean."

"OK, we have an after-breakfast task then. But let's eat first. Now, how do you feel about Vienna sausage?"

"Do I have a choice?" Bobi asked with a resigned smile.

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After they had eaten Damon prepared for his outside expedition. He gathered the two pails he planned to fill from the rain barrel and carefully scouted the sky from a window on each side of the house. Bobi offered to stand by him when he was filling the pails to keep lookout, but he refused.

"It's too dangerous. There's no point in putting both of us at risk," he warned. "You can stand by the back door. If you see anything move in the sky, anything, yell in my direction and then get your ass inside."

Bobi blushed slightly at the coarse language, but nodded in assent.

Damon was able to fill both pails without incident and get back into the house safely.

"Hot water shampoo, here we come!" he crowed as he filled a large pot on the burner.

Once the water was warm--no point wasting gas by boiling it--he took the pot to the guest bathroom and set it by the sink. He put a measuring cup by the pot so Bobi could ladle out the hot water easily and found a couple of different brands of shampoo that Claire used to use.

"Okay, you're all set up," he called out to Bobi, who was in her bedroom. She emerged in a very thin t-shirt (one of his) and a light pair of shorts, in her bare feet. Damon could feel himself harden at the sight of her breasts jiggling beneath the shirt and her just-visible nipples peaking through the thin fabric.

Damon felt flush and stammered as he spoke.

"Well, uh, here you go. Hope you, uh, enjoy, your, uh, uh, shampoo."

He backed up and turned to go into his bedroom as Bobi entered the bathroom.

"Aren't you going to help?" she asked, with apparent sincere innocence. "It will be much easier with someone helping. Then I'll return the favor."

Damon was rock hard now and had to surreptitiously adjust his trousers to prevent a noticeable bulge.

"Uh, yeah, sure. What shall I do?"

"Well, I'll lean over the sink and if you could just pour enough water on my head to get my hair damp."

She grabbed a towel, wrapped it around her shoulders and leaned over the sink. Damon dunked the measuring cup into the pot and poured a couple of cupfuls of warm water slowly over Bobi's head. He helped her massage the water into her hair until it was more or less uniformly wet.

Standing upright, Bobi squirted some shampoo on her hand and massaged it into her scalp, closing her eyes in pleasure as she did so. Damon stood behind her and saw her form reflected in the bathroom mirror. Some water had dripped down the front of her t-shirt, clinging to her skin where it had soaked the fabric. Damon could see her breasts and nipples yet more clearly now and his hard-on, which had ebbed slightly, returned with an urgent pulse.

Bobi stopped rubbing in the shampoo and opened her eyes, catching Damon's reflected gaze in the mirror. If she had noticed Damon staring at her breasts, she gave no indication.

"OK, can you rinse me now?"

Damon scooped more water from the pot and rinsed the suds from Bobi's hair. In so doing, more water dripped onto her already damp shirt.

Once her hair was reasonably well rinsed she vigorously towelled it dry and turned to Damon.

"Your turn now. I think you should probably take off your shirt. As you can see, it can be a damp business."

She open her arms and proffered her front in evidence. Damon felt himself flush violently at the sight of her damp t-shirt outlining her gorgeous, full breasts. Either she was the world's worst tease, or as innocent as Eve before the fall. Damon believed it was the latter, incredible as that might seem. The realization did nothing to relieve the aching in his groin, however.

Damon removed his shirt and leaned over the sink. Bobi draped a towel over his shoulders, poured two cups of warm liquid on his head, and kneaded the warm moisture into his brown, curly hair. Damon felt days of grief, uncertainty, and dread evaporate beneath her touch. The release of tension was so abrupt and intense, his knees almost buckled and he had to keep himself upright by firmly grasping the edge of the counter.

Bobi rubbed shampoo into his hair and massaged it into a thick lather. Leaning over the sink with his eyes closed Damon could sometimes feel a luscious breast press into his back as Bobi leaned over him, fingertips digging into his scalp. He imagined having those breasts pressed against his naked chest, visualized them hanging before his face, could feel the tingle in his lips as he imagined suckling each nipple and hearing sighs of pleasure emanate from Bobi's mouth.

Warm water poured over his head again and Damon felt the imagined warmth of Bobi's moist lips against his, the heat of her inner thighs, and the enveloping glow of her pussy as he pushed his throbbing member deep into her.

A towel gently wrapped around his head and patted his hair dry.

"There!" Bobi exclaimed, stepping back with a cheery smile. "Almost civilized again."

Damon felt anything but civilized as he righted himself and turned to face Bobi and her impossibly bright, innocent smile and irrefutably inviting breasts.

"Thank you," he managed with a weak smile. "I haven't felt this . . . this relaxed in days."

"Me, too!" she beamed in return. "It's amazing what a little cleaning up will do for your spirits."

"Yes, I reckon that's so," he quietly agreed.

"Bobi," Damon continued, "I suddenly feel very, very tired. I can't say I've slept much in the last few days and now I feel blessedly tired. Would you mind if I lied down for a bit?"

"Not at all," she said, stepping toward him with an earnest expression and placing an electric hand on his arm. "I feel blessed, too, to have found someone like you. In all this horror, to find someone so gentle, so filled with grace. It restores my faith."

Damon was dumbstruck. He had no idea how to reply to that stunning statement. Before he could even attempt to form an answer, Bobi spun him around and gently pushed him towards his bedroom door.

"Now sleep!" she commanded.

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When he woke, Damon was unsure of the time. There was only one working clock in the house now, an antiquated wind-up clock he kept in the den. He had looked at it before lying down but couldn't remember now what it had said. Not that it mattered. Glancing through the drapes, Damon guessed he had slept for a couple of hours. The house was perfectly still.

Walking past Bobi's room he saw her peacefully dozing on her bed. He continued on to the kitchen and began preparing lunch.

Bobi appeared a little while later, clothed as she had been earlier in the day, in one of his colorful t-shirts and his wife's athletic shorts.

She stretched lithely as she padded into the kitchen yawning.

"Guess I was tired, too," she observed. "Mmm! Is that lunch I see there? I'm famished."

After eating and cleaning up Bobi disappeared towards the back of the house while Damon took up his sentry post at the living room window. A few minutes later he heard a toilet flush, then Bobi came into living room holding an empty pail.

"Uh, I guess it's time to fill the toilet tank," Bobi said, holding up the empty pail.

"Alright, I'll go fill it from the pool," Damon said, taking the pail and heading to the rear door by the kitchen.

Bobi was about to follow him out but Damon motioned her to sit at the table in the breakfast nook.

"Rule: never both of us out at the same time. You just wait here. It'll only take me a few seconds to fill this."

Bobi sat as Damon exited the door. She was examining a broken toenail when Damon exploded through door, slamming it behind him.

"Get down!" he hissed, frantically motioning with his hands. "There's one out there. Get down!" he hissed even more vehemently when she remained in her seat.

Bobi slid out of her seat and flattened herself against the floor. Damon slid on his butt toward the door and cautiously raised his head to peer through the door glass, which began at about doorknob level. Just as his eyes reached the glass a shadow darkened the glass. Damon slid down against the door and Bobi gasped, covering her head with her arms and pressing herself even flatter against the floor.

The shadow hung near the door for a short eternity, then moved away. Damon let out a loud breath and Bobi began to sob. Damon dared a quick glance out but saw nothing. He slid over to the distraught girl and stroked her hair.

"Hey, hey, it's all right now. The floater's gone. We're safe in here. It's going to be ok."

Bobi grasped Damon's hand and sat up, trying to regain her composure, but failed and buried her head in his shoulder and sobbed a while longer.

Damon soothed her until she calmed herself.

"I hadn't seen one before now," Bobi sniffled, wiping tears from her eyes. "I didn't really see all of it, just a bit of grey metal. But somehow it was horrible, knowing it's not earthly."

She began to sob again, though less violently than before.

Damon held her head against his shoulder and stroked her hair as she cried out her fear.

Once she had calmed again Damon wiped away her tears and lifted her chin.

"Hey, it's ok. It won't come in here. I should have been more careful. I forgot to look around. It's my fault. I won't let it happen again. Ok?"

Bobi nodded and stood up, brushing herself off.

"I'm sorry. You don't need any hysterical women adding to your problems. I promise. I'll be ok."

They spent a quiet afternoon and fixed a cold supper. When Bobi went to the back of the house after dinner, Damon, after carefully scanning the darkening sky, ran outside to fill the pail and made it back inside without incident.

They went to bed not long after it was fully dark, both exhausted from the encounter earlier in the day. Damon had seen her kneeling by her bed in prayer once again as he passed her room.

Sometime in the middle of the night Damon was awakened by a cry from Bobi's room. He jumped out of bed and met Bobi coming out of her room.

"What's wrong?" he asked, grasping her by the shoulders.

Bobi was clearly upset.

"I'm sorry," she apologized. "I had this horrible dream. There was a floater in the house and it was chasing me. My feet were like lead and the floater was almost on top of me. And then I woke up."

She was shaking.

Damon hugged her to him to try to comfort her.

"Shh. It's ok, it's ok. It's only a dream. We're safe here."

Bobi hugged Damon until the shaking stopped. She released herself from his embrace.

"Can I . . . may I sleep . . with you tonight? I just don't want . . . to be alone right now. Do you mind?"

"Of course not. Come on, we'll both feel safer together."

Damon led her back to his bed and soon he heard the deep, steady breathing of a sound sleep. Sleep didn't come so easily to Damon. The beautiful young woman now sleeping so peacefully next to him aroused strong feelings of lust in him. He wanted nothing more right now than to reach over and pull Bobi to him, kiss her deeply, and fondle every inch of her delectable body.

Not two weeks ago his beloved wife of 15 years lay where Bobi now slept. Damon had never had a moment's thought of cheating on her. Claire had always been the center of his life. Claire and Trevor. And now, almost certainly, they were bits of char in a field somewhere. And rather than mourning them, he was lusting after this young thing fate had thrown into his bed.

The incredible events of the last few days had not given Damon the opportunity to fully comprehend his loss. But the enormity of it flooded him now and he began to sob into his pillow, trying not to wake his sleeping companion. But soon his grief enveloped him and his shoulders shook with uncontainable emotion.

He felt a soft hand on his shoulder gently turn him.

"I'm sorry," he barely choked out. "I didn't mean to . . ."

"Shh." A finger over his lips silenced him. Bobi pulled him to her, pulling his head to her chest.

"Just cry it out. Just let it go."

She wrapped his head in her arms and rocked him back and forth.

"Just let it go," she crooned. "Just let it go."

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The next morning dawned cool, gloomy and drizzly. Neither Damon nor Bobi mentioned the previous night's events. They prepared breakfast, and then lunch, as usual, cleared the dishes, tidied the house, took turns glancing nervously out the windows.

Around mid-afternoon they were sitting in the semi-dark den, sipping on some juice boxes. From the distance they heard a resounding boom. And then another. They looked at one another in alarm. A few seconds silence, then: boom, boom, pause; boom, boom pause. It picked up its rhythm and never relented.

Damon and Bobi flitted from window to window, trying to detect any hints of what was causing the noise. It seemed to be coming from the direction of the back yard, but they could see nothing unusual in that direction.

About an hour later a fainter, more distant rhythm took up in syncopated counterpoint to the first. This one seemed to come from the opposite direction, but again, they could see nothing out of the ordinary.

Since there was nothing they could do, they went about their routine, prepared dinner before it got dark and brushed their teeth and poured themselves a glass of water before bed.

Bobi didn't even ask if she could join Damon. She just went to his bed and crawled under the covers.

Damon did the same and Bobi snuggled up next to him, the ominous booming rhythm still going on in the distance.

"Damon?" she whispered in the dark.

"Yes?"

"Were you crying for your family last night?"

He paused so long, she thought he wouldn't answer.

"Yes," he answered finally.

"I know you must miss them terribly. I lost my dad when I was a teenager. I know it's not the same thing as losing a spouse, or a child," she hastened to add, "but I do know what it's like to lose someone important. Someone important before they're supposed to go. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thanks," he replied simply.

They were silent for a long while.

"Damon?" she began again. "Will you promise you won't think less of me for what I'm about to say?"

Damon was startled by that question and rolled over to look at her as best he could in the darkness.

"I don't understand," he answered. "What could you possibly say that would make me think less of you? You are one of the gentlest, most considerate, most moral people I've ever met. I can't imagine you saying anything that would make me think less of you."