Rescued

"No more than one drink for you next time."

I looked up at her hopefully, "so you see a 'next time'?" I asked, hoping I didn't sound as desperate as I felt waiting for her answer.

She smiled easily, handed me my keys and then, before I realized what she was doing, lowered her head to capture my lips. The feel of those lips, cool, silky, softly polite, sent my pulse into overdrive. I closed my eyes as I felt the heat of her tongue gently caress my bottom lip. When she pulled away a moment later, and I finally opened my eyes, she winked.

"Absolutely."

And then she was gone.

***

That night stuck with me. So much so that I was smiling for the next week. The daily grind with my students didn't take as much of a toll. And even listening to Justine bitch and moan when I took her out for our rescheduled dinner didn't bug me. In fact, the week passed quickly and my spirits remained high, part of me waiting for her to reappear over the weekend.

She didn't. She didn't show up that weekend or the next. At first I thought perhaps our date had not gone as well as I thought it had. But when I went over it in my mind, over and over and over again, I knew I was mistaken. And I could still feel her lips on mine, the kiss imprinted on my brain as if I'd never been kissed before. So, as I sat on my sofa the following Saturday, quite bummed out that she wasn't knocking on my door, it suddenly dawned on me that perhaps it wasmyturn? My turn to take the drive, my turn to show up unannounced on her doorstep, my turn to risk rejection? It probably wasn't my best idea, especially considering it was already 9pm, but I hurried to my beat up Toyota anyway, my heart skipping a beat as the engine turned over easily. I was actually smiling as I headed toward the George Washington Bridge.

*

I didn't arrive until after 11pm, and then it took me another 25 minutes to find her house. I had remembered the general vicinity, but since I'd left spur of the moment, I'd left her actual address at home. I was relieved when I found the house. It looked as plain and simple as it had the first time I'd seen it. I made my way up the squat steps, wondering if I should have called first. But, I thought, she surely had these same feelings when she'd popped in to see me. So, swallowing my nerves, I used the oversized, old brass doorknocker, shaped like a gargoyle of all things, to announce my presence.

I didn't hear anything. There was a light on in the living room, but I couldn't tell if someone was home or if she'd left the light on as a deterrent. I knocked again, a little harder, and waited, but there was still no movement. It dawned on me that she might be at work. I guess it was easier for her to surprise me at home than it was for me to surprise her. I sighed, making my way back to the car. If I alternated between blasting the heat for a few minutes (it had grown a bit chilly) and then turning off the car, I figured I wouldn't do too much damage to the car, the environment or myself...

*

The knock on the driver's side window scared me to death. I jumped out of the sleep I'd slipped into, my heart racing. I looked around, confused for a moment, not sure where I was or what I was doing here. Then, as realization settled over me, I glanced out of the window to see who had knocked. Tall. That's the first thing that registered again. I think I'd forgotten how tall she was. And that lovely, perfect, face...and then those eyes, amazingly light...gold...clear...and I was staring again. She raised a brow as I wiped my eyes and stood from the car.

She was dressed warmly, unlike myself, in a close fitting wool cap, a thick pea coat and form fitting black jeans. I shivered in the cool air of the morning, closing the car door before meeting those wonderfully, intriguing eyes.

"Hi," I offered breathlessly.

"What are you doing here?"

I wasn't sure how to take her tone. I could see it as abrasive or unwelcoming. But considering I noticed her eyes were red, her body a little hunched over and she looked really, really tired, I decided not to take it personally.

"I was in the neighborhood. You look awful."

She raised a brow again, a smirk now toying with those nicely shaped, full lips.

"Thanks."

She turned and walked up the steps to her house. Not sure if I was invited or not, I followed.

"I mean it. Have you been sleeping?"

"We had to fire some of the social workers at the hospital, so I've been picking up a few of their shifts until we replace them."

She held the door for me as I walked past her, removing my jacket and handing it to her after she hung up her own coat. She didn't say a word, but I could still see the smirk on her lips as she took my coat.

"When's the last time you ate something?" I asked.

She shrugged.

I wasn't sure what that meant, but it didn't sound promising. I made my way to her kitchen, vaguely familiar with it considering my short stay. As I began looking through her cabinets and refrigerator, I glanced over to see her staring at me from the doorway.

"What are you doing?" She finally asked.

"Well, I was going to take you out to dinner last night, but it seems you're in desperate need of food now and I don't think you have the energy to go out."

I retrieved eggs, milk, flour, cinnamon, vanilla, sugar, baking powder and margarine. I knew a pretty basic recipe for pancakes that was quick and filling. Certainly not my best dish, but it would have to do. When I looked up again, she was gone. A few minutes later, as I started the batter and melted butter in a pan, I heard the shower. I smiled, at least she wasn't going to put up a fight. I was pretty sure she was too tired to fight.

She ate the food without complaint. Scrambled eggs and a short stack. She didn't have any syrup, but I'd made the pancakes a little sweet, so with a little butter and jam, they were pretty good. I nibbled at my own food, preoccupied as I watched her. I was too concerned about her to really eat, although I wasn't sure why this woman, who I hardly knew, would create such a state of worry in me. When she finished every bite, and gulped down the rest of her milk, I nodded, satisfied. And now for phase two.

"Okay, off to bed with you."

This time she laughed, "really?"

I nodded, standing and encouraging her to follow by grabbing her hand.

"You look like you haven't slept in a week," I chastised.

She stood, and again I was dazed by her presence. It wasn't just her height, it was the width of her, the span of her chest, the size of her arms...and that face. So perfectly dark, so perfect ineveryway... She was very attractive, with her almond-shaped eyes, arched cheekbones, and enticingly full lips. She really did remind me of that model...whose name I forgot once again since those eyes, those eyes that seemed to pierce right through my soul, were concentrated squarely on me at the moment. I had taken a step or two back, but she'd followed, until my hips were pressed against a counter and she was standing just inches from me.

"I haven't been losing sleep because of work only."

Her voice, husky and deep, washed over me.

"No?" I asked, breathlessly...mesmerized.

She put her hands on either side of me, holding onto the counter, holding me captive.

"No. This woman came into my life, took me to hell and back in one night...and now I can't seem to stop thinking about her."

She whispered the words, her lips so close to mine...I wasn't able to process a single thought. Her eyes held mine and I could see the fatigue...and something else. Something that darkened those golden orbs in such a way that my breath became short, my pulse throbbing. I wasn't surprised when she closed the short distance between us, touching her lips to mine, but the intensity of it stunned me. Her scent, spicy, powerful, rich...the feel of her, so solid, close and warm...she leaned into me as her tongue captured mine, the weight of her deliciously heavy against me...I felt her arms encircle my waist as she pulled me close, her teeth nipping my bottom lip teasingly.

"Stay with me."

I nodded without hesitation. I wasn't sure what she was asking, but I would probably have agreed to anything she asked. I followed as she took my hand and led me to her bedroom. I hadn't seen this room before since I hadn't wanted to invade her privacy the last time I was in her home. More greens, rusts and browns, a huge king-sized bed, two chests of drawers, a wall unit that held a huge television...nothing fancy. I watched as she pulled off her jeans and long tee, smiling to myself at her white tank and boxers. She raised a brow and I began to undress, removing my own jeans. I only wore a tee shirt, so I left it on. She threw back the heavy comforter and slid into the bed, patting the spot beside her. I lay down beside her, my heart hammering in my chest.

She pulled me to her, the length of her pressed against me, heating my body in a most wonderful way. She pressed her lips to mine, tasting me, enjoying me...her lips lingering...her hand caressing my hip...and then she stopped. It took me a moment to realize she was not going to do anything else. When I finally looked up to see those amazing eyes, they were closed...and she was snoring lightly.

I was happy to see her resting, truly, but my body screamed 'are you fucking serious?' Shaking my head, I chuckled to myself softly, sighing. I took a moment to think about how I was feeling, to wonder about my reaction to her...and then to realize how much I really wanted this woman. I didn't know her well, and I'd always prided myself on taking my time, getting to know a person first, finding out their sexual history...but if she'd wanted to have sex, I would not have stopped it. That reality concerned me. I had been attracted to her from the moment I saw her...and now I had to admit the feelings unnerved me a little.

But for now, considering she was sleeping so peacefully, and holding me so close, there was little I could do about getting some distance from her. I yawned, realizing I was still tired. But before I closed my eyes, I took another moment to take her in...I meanreallytake her in. This amazingly beautiful creature was lying only inches from me, completely oblivious, and completely relaxed. Even in sleep, she was breathtaking. The symmetry, the shape of her perfectly round head, the angles of her face, the brows that seemed expertly arched, the sharp cheekbones that ended in a perfectly round chin, the fullness of her flawless lips. I wondered how she existed in the regular world with such looks. I wondered how people responded to her. Was she used to people losing their words, struggling to behave normally as they drank her in. Or was it me? Did she just have this impact on me?

I stared at her until I couldn't hold my eyes open any longer...and then I slept, snuggled against her.

*

For the second time, she left before I woke. Another note, thanking me for the meal and explaining that she had an early shift. She invited me to stay, but warned she had to work another double so she wouldn't be home until very late. I sighed.

I stripped the bed again, dumping the sheets in a hamper, and located clean sheets to put on the bed. Then I straightened up her bedroom and cleaned up the kitchen before I left. It was Sunday and I couldn't wait around all day, spend the night, and believe I was going to make it to class first thing on Monday. We would just have to catch up another time.

***

By the time I recovered from the experience of sleeping beside someone so attractive and sexy, and onlysleeping, another week had passed with no contact from my tormenter. But then I was packing to head down to Louisiana. A hurricane had struck Terrebonne Parish and there were hundreds of people who needed to be rescued from areas that were completely under water. I'd asked for a week off from work, left a message on my answering machine, and was in my trusty old car, headed to the airport, in no time.

*

Things were almost as horrible as Katrina when I arrived. There were entire neighborhoods flooded, homes that had water flooding the first floor, vehicles halfway submerged, entire trees strewn about, debris everywhere, people stranded without power or food...

As soon as I arrived, I hurried to one of the rescue centers, stored my bags in a locker, and headed out with a crew in one of the boats. We spent hours and hours rescuing people...the elderly, entire families, children who were alone and afraid, not sure where their parents were. We were lucky for the most part, until we approached one house. There were clothes hanging from the windows, indicating people were trapped. But when we went inside...a young mother and her newborn...they were at the foot of the stairs, submerged under water, the baby still wrapped tightly in her arms...maybe she'd slipped on the way up, the way down? Her neck looked broken. The baby had probably drowned.

The mood was somber thereafter. And by the time I decided to call it quits, having worked 12 straight hours, I had bottomed out. There were cots set aside for the rescue workers at the Center, so I decided to grab a sandwich and just crash there. There was no joking, no lightheartedness to erase some of the horror we'd seen that day. My dreams were filled with the image of that woman, her baby...and death.

*

By day four, we were all more than a little depressed and ready for the relief crews that were headed our way. I'd checked into a motel not too far from the Rescue Center by then, but I was up and out of my room by 5am every day. I had run across some familiar faces, from some of the other sites, but the sense of camaraderie, the sense of accomplishment that sometimes kept us going, was missing. We'd found dozens dead, homes completely ruined, families that had lost everything and were worried about where they would go next, how they would survive... There was no room for good feelings here. Nothing but loss and horror for the most part.

I was making plans to stay for another few days, but the site organizer saw that I was burnt out and said I should leave. Others were coming, he assured me, they were not shorthanded this time around. Never again would they be shorthanded in Louisiana, hopefully. So, I finished my shift, packed my few belongings and caught a redeye flight back to New York.

*

I was still struggling to get back into the 'groove' of teaching days later. The trip...it haunted me. It wasn't the first time I had been unable to shake some of the images, the sadness, the fear, the hopelessness...but this time it was keeping me up at night and ruining my appetite. I think the image that affected me the most was that woman, and her baby, dying alone in that house. If there had been someone there with her, would it have happened? Had she been terrified? How long had the baby been alone, crying, terrified, before...I couldn't seem to stop thinking about it.

I was trying to keep busy, going out with friends, keeping up with my classes, watching movies that had been released on DVD that I hadn't had a chance to see yet. But nothing was working, including the over-the-counter sleep aids I'd been taking almost every night. I was still having trouble sleeping and I still had nightmares.

The Monday after I returned, I decided to call in sick and just take a mental health day. After sleeping late, I planned to run errands, clean my apartment and do some laundry, but instead I hopped in my car and headed toward Philadelphia. Frankie had called the day after I returned from my trip, but I hadn't been in the mood to call her back. I was hoping she wasn't too annoyed with me and would be willing to blow off work, if she was scheduled, and spend the day with me.

Considering my luck at her house the last time, I decided to try and catch her at work instead. When I arrived at the hospital, they directed me to a new floor. I followed the maze that every large hospital inevitably creates as it add new wings, until I finally found her office. It was in a much more central location on the first floor and it was much larger. And under her name read the title "supervisor." I'm pretty sure she hadn't been a supervisor before and I was suddenly sorry I had not been around for her to share the good news. I tapped on the door, smiling just a little when I heard her deep, husky voice call for me to enter.

She was reading something on her desk and didn't look up immediately. When she did...I think the world stopped moving for just a moment. Those golden eyes settled on me and the smile that teased her lips...I suddenly knew I hadn't made a mistake showing up unannounced.

"Hey," she said, smiling, standing and coming around the desk. She half leaned, half sat against it.

I smiled, "hi. Sorry to interrupt."

She shook her head, "not a problem."

She stared at me for a moment. Just stared, intently, her head tilting to the side just a bit. I wasn't sure I would be able to continue breathing if she kept looking at me like that when she finally spoke.

"You okay?" She asked.

Two simple words, but they meant the world to me. No. I was not okay. I had not been okay in days. But I was so pleased she'd noticed since no one else had asked that question.

"No, but thanks." I looked at her desk, piled high with paperwork, and knew I couldn't ask her to skip work. "Can you get something to eat?"

She glanced at her watch and nodded, standing up straight to stretch. It was poetry in motion, her stretching. Muscles and tendons flexing in a most appealing way. Certainly something I would not mind watching over and over again. I averted my eyes after a moment, lest she laugh at me again for staring at her like a lovesick puppy.

"We can grab something in the cafeteria, if that's okay."

I nodded, just wanting to spend some time with her. I followed her through another maze of corridors and stairwells until we came to what was a pretty busy cafeteria. It had a wide variety of food, but I wasn't really hungry, my appetite still seemingly located in some part of Louisiana. So, I only grabbed a yogurt and a bottle of water. When I met up with her at the register, she raised a brow. She had a tuna sandwich, a bag of chips, a small salad, a bottle of water and a soda on her tray.

"That all you eating?" She asked.

I nodded, "yea, my stomach hasn't been doing too well."
She didn't say anything, turning to pay for her lunch. When I tried to do the same, the cashier told me Frankie had already paid. We sat at a table for two in a relatively quiet area of the dining area. We didn't say much as Frankie unwrapped her sandwich and bit into it, opening the chips and offering me some before she took a few for herself. I liked to see her eat. She wasn't emaciated, far from it, but she seemed to be the type of person that would forget to eat when she was preoccupied. So, if she was eating, that meant she was probably okay for the most part. I liked the idea of that.

When she finished half the sandwich, she wrapped up the other half and drank her bottle of water in almost one gulp. Then she set everything down and turned those incredible eyes in my direction.

"What's wrong?"

Again, two simple words that meant the world to me. I sighed, feeling a little bad about laying my problems at her doorstep, and yet, I still spilled everything about how I was feeling. The nightmares, the lack of appetite, what had happened in Louisiana...how unsettled I was feeling. How awful I felt to be alive, and be okay, when so many people had just had everything ripped away from them. I rambled on as she ate her salad and snacked on her chips. It must have been at least 20 minutes before I finished. She hadn't said much while I was dumping and when I finally closed my lips, she still didn't say anything. I watched her toying with the soda she hadn't opened yet. She looked like she was a million miles away and I wondered, for a moment, if she'd been listening to me at all.