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Ashes To Ashes

BOFH666

2nd Level Red Feather
Joined
Dec 14, 2002
Messages
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Even sitting inside the metal cocoon of the Mercedes John could hear the wind howling through the trees, whipping around the cloud draped hill as if it were alive, alive and angry and hungry. What should have been a gentle drizzle was torn apart and driven against the windows in a miniature storm. Common sense said to wait, it couldn't last forever after all and in a few minutes it would doubtless have eased enough to make the short walk more pleasant. But he knew full well there would be nothing pleasant about it, even if it were a perfect summers day, in truth he welcomed the foul weather, it seemed somehow appropriate for the task in hand. With a sigh he left his umbrella on the passenger seat, pulled his collar up around his throat and stepped into the world.

Immediately the wind pulled at his body, surprising him with its strength and chilling his flesh even through the thick wool coat that was lifted up, snapping around him, wings of darkness as he turned and started walking.

Step

Sunlight, crisp and pure, glanced off the white tops of waves as they broke against the shore, a day so perfect it was as if God himself had decided to show every artist that drew breath what a masterpiece truly was. The sand was fine beneath Johns bare feet, not golden but white, rising up into curving dunes and, far far beyond them, the green expanse of valleys and mountains that sheltered this bay from the harsh world outside. The sun itself was still low in the sky, the faintest hint of mist clinging to the very edges of the distant mountains, but none of this occupied his attention as he stared, enchanted at the sight before him.

The long, curving beach was practically deserted at this time of day, but even so a single towel was stretched out on the sand. Its owner however was not, opting instead for the cool waters of the bay, gliding through the small breakers about twenty yards from the shore as if born in the ocean. A cap of red hair spread out in the surface, slicked back to her skull as she powered her way over a larger than normal wave, tantalizing glimpses of flesh teasing and exciting him as he stood, spellbound, on the sands.

Suddenly he was moving, rushing down the beach towards the waiting water, pulling his t-shirt over his head and wading in up to his waist, not caring how much noise he made, or how little subtlety he was displaying. One thought alone consumed him, the urgent, desperate need to introduce himself, to hear this vision speak and learn her name. She must have seen his headlong dash as she'd stopped swimming and now floated in the water, waiting for him as he marched out to meet her.

“Good morning.” She said as he was still a few yards away “lovely day for a swim isn't it?”

God, John thought, her voice was beyond anything he could have expected, anything he'd dreamed of. Low, seductive, playful and all she'd done was say good morning. “Uh, yeah, yeah it's a great day for a swim.” He replied and winced at just how much of a tongue tied geek he must seem at that moment, sure he'd blown whatever slim chance he may have had.

To his surprise a soft laugh rewarded his stammered attempts. “Well, I must admit it's getting a little boring swimming alone, want to join me?” She asked, playfully splashing the surface and, somehow, managing to soak his face despite the distance.

“I... uh, yeah, yeah I'd love to.” John said, feeling both a goofy grin and his blush spread over his face.

“Come on then” she laughed, splashing him again.

“Alright I....” John took a step forward and felt the bottom drop away from his feet, the water closing over his head. He came back to the surface spluttering and brushing his hair away from his eyes. She was floating about ten yards away now, and the grin on her face was plain.

“Careful, it gets deep about there!” She yelled over to him before twisting and diving under the waves. With a single breath John followed her, the cool greens of the world beneath the surface relaxing him immediately as he caught a glimpse of her lithe form swimming in a straight line along the shore, seemingly cruising through the water. He felt an almost predatory mood take him and shot straight for her, closing the distance quickly. As he got closer he realized with a start just how stunning she really was. The water still made a clear view impossible, but even so he could see her long, shapely legs, leading up to a set of curves that could have stepped off the catwalk of the highest circles of fashions. Underwater her hair fanned out behind her, rippling like a liquid curtain as she seemed to slide through the water. Closer and closer he got, now barely five foot behind her and for a moment he saw a clear view of smooth skin, flawless arches and perfect toes. A moment was all the sight he got though as she twisted, turning along the length of her own body, dashing past him in a flash of flesh and fingers, fingers that trailed down his stomach and goosed his ribs, the motion slowed by the water but enough to tickle nonetheless. He gasped, instinctively tried to breathe in and came to the surface in a spluttering eruption, trying to clear the water from his eyes as he sucked air back into his lungs. Even as he recovered he felt something pass close by him underwater and another flash of fingers, this time against his thigh and he felt a most unmanly giggle escape his lips.

Not wanting to give her an easy target he dove back under the surface, back to the chase as she twisted and arced through the water like a fish. Again and again he tried to catch her, again and again she managed to evade his attentions and sneak brief, devastating, wonderful, teasing, tantalizing touches against his flesh, more often than not resulting in a repeat performance of his gasping rise to the surface. Over and over again... until finally he realized a way to trap her. Slowly, subtly he steered her towards the shore, towards the steep drop off where the ocean became a paddling pool. Once more she turned to attack, and once more he rose spluttering. This time though he had been ready for her and had managed to hold his breath, faking the laugh as he rose. She turned and swept back for another strike. He grabbed out as she went past and caught her thighs in a bear hug.

Instantly his hands were at her skin, wriggling and tickling as best he could under water. She gasped, howling with unexpected laughter as she found herself in the shallows with nowhere to twist or turn. She clawed and crawled her way forward, both of them fighting for air and control, John barely able to believe this was happening, that his hands were touching this beauty who hadn't even told him her name. Eventually they struggled to shore where, exhausted by her efforts, she lay on the white sands, her feet now trapped under Johns arm as he raked her soles.

“N...NO! Ssstoooop! PLEASE!” She laughed, exhaustion clear in her voice now.

“Tell me your name! Tell me your name and I'll stop.” John teased, twisting his fingers between her wriggling toes.

“E...E...Elizabeth!” She gasped. “It's Elizabeth!”

Instantly, though with more than a little regret, John stopped his assault, released her from his grasp and laid alongside her on the sand.

“Pleased to meet you Elizabeth, I'm John”. He said, and on the spur of the moment stuck out a hand.

As tired as she was Elizabeth managed a giggle at the curiously old fashioned gesture before taking his hand in hers and shaking with a strength that surprised him. A surprise that melted in the force of the next as she took his hand to her lips and started to kiss each finger in turn.

The rest of that day seemed to flow into a single melting pot of images and emotions, his entire being feeling freed and truly at peace for the first time he could remember. Yet despite it all there was one image that stayed with him, that overrode all else. Elizabeth's face titled to his, her head pillowed on his chest, whispering a simple message that thrilled him beyond measure.

“I love you.”

Step

Rain hammered down on the fabric a few feet above his head as John twisted in the sleeping bag, cursing the unseasonable weather as the chill air closed in, always looking for a way to slide down next to his skin. Grumbling to himself he had to admit that maybe camping out in the middle of April wasn't such a great idea after all, even the site manager hadn't quite been able to believe his eyes when he'd seen them pull in and ask for a pitch. They had the entire field to themselves, although that did assume there'd still be a field left come the morning and they weren't swept out to sea.

The sound of a zip being ripped open scythed through him and he glanced up, the dim outline of a female figure all he needed for reassurance that they weren't being robbed. Robbed, he thought with a snort, like any self respecting thief would be out on a night like tonight. From the living area of the tent he heard quiet cursing as the new arrival seemed to be inventing some new form of yoga to get out of her soaked waterproofs without getting the rest of her soaked in the process. As fascinating as the process was to watch John could feel the night air nipping at his flesh once more and rolled over, pulling the sleeping bag a little closer around him and almost immediately starting to doze off, lulled by the warmth and familiar scent on the fabric.

Only to be startled awake by someone yanking the zip down on the sleeping bag, diving in while somehow closing the zip behind them and a pair of lips finding his. For a moment he surrendered to the kiss, caught unawares and lost in the moment, in the pleasure and care it promised. A moment only though as the lips pulled back and a voice whispered in his ear.

“Hi handsome, mind if I join you?”

“I'm sorry Miss, I think you must have the wrong tent.”

“Oh well, that's just too bad, you don't mind if I spend the night do you, it's raining cats and dogs out there.”

“I don't mind, my wife might though.”

“Oh come on, she wouldn't object too much to finding a naked lady in your arms would she?”

“Well.... not if she could join in the fun I guess.”

“You pig!” Elizabeth laughed, kissing him again and moving closer to his body, her naked flesh chill against his skin. “And here I thought I was woman enough for you.”

“Hey Liz, you can't really blame me for wanting a menage a trois with you and your imaginary twin sister you know.” John teased, lifting his hands to pull her close in his embrace.

“Oh no?” She replied, and he picked up on the note of challenge a half second too late. Suddenly ten fingers were wriggling and writhing in his armpits and in a moment he was lost. Laughing without hope of control, any chance of fending her off dependent now on getting his own hands into play. A slim hope, and one that she quickly squashed by rolling to her right, trapping his hands between her and the airbed, holding him with her own body weight as she explored his flesh.

John felt an all too familiar feeling creep over him as he descended into hysterics and madness. Liz simply knew him too well, knew every spot and point on his body to send his senses into overdrive. Her fingers busied themselves in his armpits, dancing briefly down his sides and ribs, even traveling as far down as his waist, her breath tickling around his neck and ears, his roars of laughter matched by her own delighted giggling as she felt him writhe above her, reveling in the power she held over him, luxuriating in the sure and certain knowledge that he would never do anything to hurt her no matter what she may do or how she provoked him.

John for his part felt his eyes cloud with tears, his entire body demanding relief now, strength seeping out of his muscles as he flopped down on top of his lover, his goddess. Over and over she explored his flesh, somehow managing to find new and interesting ways of tormenting him with every passing moment. Her tongue darting out to trace his collarbone as her fingers flew over his ribs. Her lips closing on his, swallowing his laughter as she wormed a finger down into his navel. The lightest of light touches teasing and tickling his cock and balls as she ground into his helpless body, and all the while his hands still trapped behind her flesh.

He felt her shift slightly, wrapping her thighs around him, her hips grinding against him as she pushed against his thigh. Her fingers returned to his armpits and dug in, hard, much harder than before. With renewed energy he howled and thrashed trying to pull his arms free, trying to get away from her, with no success. In seconds he felt her tense, a muffled cry escaping her lips as her body dove over the edge and into pure pleasure. For what seemed like an eternity he saw her face twisted in delight, and as always, he felt a pulse of shock and wonder at the fact she offered such a gift, such trust and affection, to him.

Slowly, oh so slowly, she came back to him, staring at him from half lidded eyes, a shadow of a grin visible on her face as she snuggled against him. Her lips moved up to his ear, whispering in a voice still shot through with pleasure. “Ohhh, you're wife is going to be pissed she missed that.”

Even in his current state John couldn't help but chuckle at the joke, aware as always his wife was that little bit faster on the draw than he. “But what's this....” Liz said, mock surprise in her voice as her fingers traced Johns straining member. “Does someone need a little relief of their own?”

It was all John could do to grunt as he was overwhelmed by the sensations she was causing with the barest touch of a fingertip.

“I love you” she whispered as she arched her back up and freed his hands, rolling with him into a ball of fingers, tongues, hair and anything else that came to hand to tantalize the senses.
 
Continued

Step

John woke with a start, finding himself lying on the couch, his hand still holding the copy of last weeks productivity report he'd been reading before he'd nodded off. Shaking his head to clear the familiar 'wrapped in cotton wool' feeling that he always suffered when he napped and slid his feet into a pair of slippers. The rubber soles clicked softly on the wood floor as he padded into the kitchen, pouring a glass of water before heading upstairs. Glancing down the corridor towards the master bedroom he set his glass down on a small table in the hall and walked in the opposite direction. Stepping through the open door he smiled as he saw Elizabeth staring down into the crib, the look on her face reminding him of the first day he'd met her, an angelic air that seemed to make her timeless, perfect. A quiet snuffling from his right told him where Buster was lying and he reached down to pat the bullet head as he passed, rewarded with a quick lick against his wrist as the dog shifted slightly, permitting Johns intrusion the general vicinity of what John would swear Buster thought of as his own offspring.

John walked over and slipped his arms around Liz, still marveling six months on at just how much his wife had changed while carrying Paul, his body still remembering holding her like this back then, and how different, how right it had seemed to feel his son growing in the woman he loved. Liz sighed and slipped into his embrace, reaching back and running her fingers over the nape of his neck, utterly at peace in his arms.

How long they stayed like that neither of them could say but neither were in any rush to break the moment. At that time, in that place, John knew he had everything he could want in his life and he felt tears prick his eyes as he gazed at his son. A single tear fell landed on the curve of Liz's neck and she glanced up at the man she'd fallen in love with so many years ago on a beach hundreds of miles away. Time may have changed the details but she saw clearly the face she'd known, from the first moment she'd seen it, would be with her until her dying day. Smiling she turned in his arms, reached up and kissed him, her hands sliding over his cheeks and wiping away the wet track the remained. Breaking the kiss she walked softly to the door, turned and whispered to him: “Don't take to long love.”

John took one last look at his son, reached out and smoothed the blanket covering the tiny form, shaking his head in wonder. As he moved to the door he heard Buster pad over to the crib and, with a slight clink from his collar, stand up on his hind paws to look in. John grinned in the dark, Buster was so protective of Paul it was surprising the boy wasn't part Alsatian. Still, he thought, glancing back and seeing Buster lying down in front of the crib, his head towards the door alert as always, if anyone ever wanted to harm Paul, they'd better be willing to take on ten stone of pissed off Alsatian before hand.

Entering the bedroom he almost tripped over his own tongue. Liz was lying in bed, face down and seemingly asleep, her body covered by the thin sheet and, clearly, naked underneath it. From the end though, her smooth, perfect feet hung, the soles facing him, lit by the flickering light of a single candle sitting on the dressing table. Grinning he slid to the floor at the foot of the bed and placed his hands at the small of his back.

Leaning down he kissed first one sole, then the other, working his lips over her skin, his beard tickling her slightly as he moved. It was an odd experience he thought, teasing and tickling his goddess this way without restraining her, relying on her own self-control to allow him to continue, but it was not an unpleasant one by any means. Moving to the heel of her right foot he started working his way down, light caresses of his lips against her flesh mixed with long, slow, luxurious laps of his tongue over the flesh he'd already touched. Her legs twitched almost constantly and, as he took her toes into his mouth he glanced up the length of her body. The sheet covering her had fallen aside and her flesh seemed to gleam like liquid gold in the flickering light, her every curve as perfect to him now as the day they'd met. Her face was pressed into the pillow, her hands bunched into fists as she tried to muffle her laughter, to keep quiet despite everything he was doing, matching her will against his in a contest she knew she couldn't win.

John let her foot fall from his mouth, pausing only to regain his balance before moving over to her left foot and starting the whole process again. Now, as he wormed his way down her sole, he paid closer attention to her body, his eyes practically rolling into his head as he tried to both lick and watch at once. To his amusement he saw her hips twitch and writhe against the bed as his tongue lapped against her flesh and, as he watched he felt desire wash over him. Throwing his gentle, teasing plan out the window he caught her toes in his mouth, scraping his teeth over her toes and diving in between her toes with his tongue. Instantly Liz howled into the pillow, her entire body writhing now, yet somehow leaving her feet where they were, allowing him access despite the horrific tickle torment he was gifting her.

Shifting, John came at her feet from the side, working his chin to tickle her right foot as he sucked and licked the toes of her left. Liz let out an odd mix of hysterical laugh and scream of passion, all partially muffled by the pillow, and he felt every muscle in her body tense at once then literally pulse with pleasure as she lost control, John still licking and sucking her toes throughout. Running a hand gently up the back of her legs to the knees he felt every muscle relaxed beneath his fingers and, with a smile, slid up alongside her, taking her body in his arms, pulling her close and easing her to sleep with the words that burned in his heart.

“I love you”

Step

All around John there was frantic activity but he seemed to simply ignore it as he stared at the plain white wall in front of him. The sharp tang of disinfectant pulled at his senses, a perfect match for the sense of dread that had settled over him like a cloud.

“Mr Evans?” The voice belonged to a tall man clad in a white lab coat, shirt and suit trousers beneath.

“Yes.” John said, standing and facing the doctor.

“I'm sorry, there's nothing more we can do. She's fought it as far as she can but...”

“How long?”

“A few days, maybe a week, no more than that though. I'm sorry, I wish there was something else we...”

John cut him off “Sorry? For what Doctor? It's not your fault, you didn't cause this after all. No, thank you, for everything you've done for us. It's meant more than you could know.” All the usual phrases John thought, disgusted with himself even as he said the words. They were right, true, but of no comfort to either man now.

“You can see her if you wish, she's stable for now. If... if it's any consolation, she will feel very little pain before...”

John nodded silently, not trusting himself to speak. Turning away he took a single deep breath and walked into the room. To his surprise there seemed at first glance to be very little wrong with the woman in the bed, a single sensor connected to a pulse monitor and an IV drip were the only obvious things that set the scene apart from an evening at home.

“Hey.” Liz said, her smile seeming to lift years from her face as he walked over. “How are you love?”

“I've been better Liz. I... I presume they...”

“Yes, they told me. John, this isn't a surprise to either of us, we've known this was coming for a long time now...”

“That doesn't make it any easier!”

“No, no it doesn't love. But it does give you time to think, lying in here I mean, and I think I've realized something I might not have ever told you.”

“What?”

“I can't imagine now, looking back, ever living a life without you. You've made the years worth living John, every day worth fighting for.”

“You've told me that before Liz”. John smiled at her, reaching out to her hand, slipping it into his.

“I... I have? When?”

“Every time you smiled. Every time I heard you laugh and every time I woke up with your head nestled on my shoulder. Every single time I was with you Liz, you told me.”

A pause filled the room, and to John's surprise he saw not tears in her eyes but a compassion and caring so deep it stunned him. “I love you, you know that as well, right?” Liz asked.

John didn't reply but lent over and kissed her, gently, carefully, feeling her spirit, as strong now as it ever was, pulsing through him for those few brief moments before he was forced to pull back.

“Did... did you bring it?” Liz asked, her voice catching in her throat.

“Yeah, but I was wondering if you'd mind... if you'd mind if I read it to you.” John replied, his own throat feeling as if there was a tennis ball lodged there.

“God, of course not, please.” Liz sad, settling back slightly against the pillow and half closing her eyes. John pulled a single sheet of paper out of his pocket and, keeping his voice low so as not to disturb the other patients in the ward, started to read.

It little profits that an idle king,
By this still hearth, among these barren crags,
Match’d with an aged wife, I mete and dole
Unequal laws unto a savage race,
That hoard, and sleep, and feed, and know not me.

I cannot rest from travel: I will drink
Life to the lees: all times I have enjoy’d
Greatly, have suffer’d greatly, both with those
That loved me, and alone; on shore, and when
Thro’ scudding drifts the rainy Hyades
Vext the dim sea: I am become a name;
For always roaming with a hungry heart
Much have I seen and known; cities of men
And manners, climates, councils, governments,
Myself not least, but honour’d of them all;
And drunk delight of battle with my peers,
Far on the ringing plains of windy Troy.

I am a part of all that I have met;
Yet all experience is an arch wherethro’
Gleams that untravell’d world, whose margin fades
For ever and for ever when I move.
How dull it is to pause, to make an end,
To rust unburnish’d, not to shine in use!
As tho’ to breathe were life. Life piled on life
Were all too little, and of one to me
Little remains: but every hour is saved
From that eternal silence, something more,
A bringer of new things; and vile it were
For some three suns to store and hoard myself,
And this gray spirit yearning in desire
To follow knowledge like a sinking star,
Beyond the utmost bound of human thought.

This is my son, mine own Telemachus,
To whom I leave the sceptre and the isle–
Well-loved of me, discerning to fulfil
This labour, by slow prudence to make mild
A rugged people, and thro’ soft degrees
Subdue them to the useful and the good.
Most blameless is he, centred in the sphere
Of common duties, decent not to fail
In offices of tenderness, and pay
Meet adoration to my household gods,
When I am gone. He works his work, I mine.

There lies the port; the vessel puffs her sail:
There gloom the dark broad seas. My mariners,
Souls that have toil’d, and wrought, and thought with me–
That ever with a frolic welcome took
The thunder and the sunshine, and opposed
Free hearts, free foreheads–you and I are old;
Old age hath yet his honour and his toil;
Death closes all: but something ere the end,
Some work of noble note, may yet be done,
Not unbecoming men that strove with Gods.
The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks:
The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs: the deep
Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends,
’Tis not too late to seek a newer world.
Push off, and sitting well in order smite
The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds
To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths
Of all the western stars, until I die.
It may be that the gulfs will wash us down:
It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles,
And see the great Achilles, whom we knew.
Tho’ much is taken, much abides; and tho’
We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are;
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.

Step

The wind died, John's coat fluttering down around his body as he stood before the simple marble marker on the hillside. Slowly he crouched down before it, his fingers brushing the engraving, cleaning away the water.

“Elizabeth Evans. In Loving Memory”

As he looked at the inscription, John felt against all expectation a sense of peace wash over him, the grief and pain lessening for the first time in month as finally he realized what he had come here to say.

“I miss you”
 
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