Chapter 13

Elena is relaxed, breathing deeply, but consciously holding herself awake and alert. Regardless of Ramon's assertion that the couple hunting both herself and Gavin are no longer a threat, she's certain that lowering her guard and opening herself up to sleep or the dreamscape right now would be a very bad mistake. After risking so much, the idea of them packing it in and just giving up strikes her as ludicrous. If they attack again, as they had in her back yard, will she be able to resist?

The warm body of Mac, Gavin's German Shepherd, is pressed along her front. Fast asleep, the big dog clearly doesn't share her misgivings, but then, why should he? Elena hadn't been completely certain that he would allow her to enter Gavin's back yard, but he had made no objection when, after softly calling him to the closed wooden gate, she had let herself in. Well, no objection other than sniffing her from her feet to as far up as he could reach. She smiles, comforted by the feel of him beside her.

The only illumination in the back yard comes from the muted gleam of a distant street lamp. There's not much to see in any case, just Mac's food and water bowls, a few scattered dog toys, a covered trash can, and a coiled hose. She's used to the somewhat cluttered appearance of her own family's back yard, and thinks this stark expanse of grass with its token postage stamp of a patio is a little sad. Of course, Gavin and his father have only lived here a week, so there's no telling what it will look like a month from now.

Do Gavin and his father usually spend their free time inside or outside?

After her months of viewings, Elena is astonished to realize that she doesn't really know. During school breaks, Christine, and even Bob to a lesser extent, had always kept an eye on her and her sisters schedules to ensure that they weren't vegging out in front of TV or computer screens all day. Still, as she knows from her friends, not all parents are the same. Laura's mother and father were, in her view, a few notches higher on the strictness scale, whereas Matt, her next door neighbor, seemed to have no restrictions on his time at all.

Aside from yesterday's revelation regarding his sexual orientation, Gavin's dad is an enigma to her. Is he an active or indifferent parent? Can she read anything into his sudden move from California, other than a desire to leave Gavin's mother as far behind as possible? No, even that's just conjecture. Given what she intends to do with Gavin, information about Al Young isn't trivial, but right now she's just flailing around in a vacuum of information.

Will she even be able to see Gavin tonight? She must! It's no longer an issue of only their safety, but the safety of everyone around them as well. The attack on Bill Duncan had shown that anyone conveniently positioned to strike at her or Gavin might be used. Although, she expects that there have to be some limitations. Otherwise, both she and Gavin would already be dead.

The attack aimed at her had been brilliant. Unexpectedly sucked into the dreamscape, she could've easily drowned had Gavin not been there. A straight forward swimming pool accident, with probably no one ever the wiser. The attack on Gavin through Bill Duncan though, that was different. An act of desperation? Had the couple so expected the attack on her to succeed that, when it didn't, they were left floundering? Why? What is she missing?

It was the link with Gavin that had saved her. Once they had known that she and Gavin were destined to pair bond, the couple hunting them had pulled her into the dreamscape. Imagining what? that she would be helpless and unable to resist? For some reason, even though she and Gavin hadn't yet fully bonded, a link had been possible, and she had escaped.

In front of her, Mac's head rises, and his ears come to rigid attention.

"What is it boy, is Gavin home?" she whispers.

If so, she might want to try and hide, just in case it's Al who checks in on the German Shepherd and not Gavin. Of course, actually finding a hiding place in this wide open wasteland might be a bit of an issue.

Before she can move, the back door opens, and Gavin's standing there, outlined in light. He scans the empty patio, and then his eyes track to where she and Mac are lying in the grass together.

"Elena?"

"Hi." She smiles up at him through a few strands of hair that have escaped her braid. It's only been a few hours, but she's thrilled to see him safe and sound.

She sits up, and apparently considering himself released from guard duty, Mac stands, shakes, and trots over to nuzzle Gavin's hand.

Gavin's still staring at her. "How did you get here?" he asks, absently scratching behind Mac's ears.

"I walked," she answers, standing and futilely brushing at the dog hair she's managed to accumulate. "Where's your dad?" she asks, hoping that he won't appear behind Gavin at any second.

"Uh, picking up Mr. Duncan's sister at the airport." His eyes drop to the pavement in front of him, and he says, "Elena, there's been an accident."

Abandoning her battle with dog hair, she walks to where he's standing, and slides her arms around him. "I know," she says, hugging him as tightly as she can, "it's why I'm here."

"You saw?" He sounds relieved.

"I saw part of it," she explains, reluctantly letting him go. "I'm glad your dad's not here, because there's a lot we have to talk about."

"Well sure, let me feed Mac, and..." He breaks off, staring at the white bandage wrapped around her right hand. "Holy shit, what happened to your hand?"

When Mr. P had asked her, the question had seemed unimportant, a waste of time to even talk about. Now, she's strangely embarrassed. "I, uh," she looks down and blushes, "lost my temper."

He stretches out a hand, and takes her bandaged one. "Damn," he says respectfully, "does it hurt?"

"Nah," she says, flexing her fingers inside the bandage, and ignoring the twinge of pain she feels to prove it. "I've mostly forgotten it's even there."

Which is certainly true, she's been unconsciously trying to use her hand all evening.

"And, who were you fighting with?" he asks, tracing the bandages path across her palm with one finger.

"Gavin!" She tries to sound shocked, "You don't talk about Fight Club!"

"What?" He's beginning to smile, aware that she's teasing him somehow, but has completely missed the reference.

Elena shrugs. "Sorry, just an old movie my dad liked." Regretfully, she reclaims her hand, and gestures towards Mac's food bowl. "Go ahead and feed him, I'm going to use your bathroom, okay?"

The feel of his hand against hers, even separated by the bandage she's wearing, had sparked all the familiar reactions inside her. She's flushed, as though the night's sultry temperature had inexplicably risen twenty degrees, and all she can think about is pulling Gavin against her.

Is this going to happen every time he touches me?

"Okay," he says, slowly bending to pick up Mac's bowls, "the downstairs bathroom's next to the stairs."

He looks exhausted, and she suspects he has no idea how his earlier touch affected her. Ever since there momentary link in her back yard yesterday, just after Gavin had rescued her from drowning, she had sought some way to reestablish their connection. Other than her overexcited libido however, the link in-between them hadn't reoccurred.

Just a glimpse of what I could have, and then it goes back to manipulating me.

She steps through the open back door, and quickly surveys the kitchen in front of her. There's a round dinette table with four chairs, and island with a sink, and a refrigerator along with another counter and stove against the far wall. Walking around the island, she catches a glimpse of the living room to her left, a staircase directly opposite the kitchen doorway, and a door beside it that has to be the bathroom Gavin mentioned.

The fact that she's being manipulated isn't a new realization. Ever since the dreamscape had begun focusing almost all her attention on Gavin, it had become obvious that there had to be a reason. Then, in a viewing where Gavin was masturbating, the link had been established, making her a participant in the sexual experience. After the third time it happened, the message had seemed pretty clear to her. "This is the person who will be your lover and your partner."

She hadn't resisted, in part because the experience was unlike anything she had ever felt before, and in part because it had never occurred to her to do so. It was the dreamscape; what she saw there always came to pass, and it didn't make any difference whether she liked it or not.

Stepping into the bathroom, she flips on the light, closes the door, and studies her reflection in the mirror above the sink. This is it, the end result of months of viewings has brought her to this place. Whether Gavin realizes it or not, her only true purpose for being here tonight is to complete what had started the first time she had seen him in a viewing. She desperately wants to spend hours talking with him, explain how and why he had become so important to her, and list all the countless things about him she had gradually grown to love. She is here because of the dreamscape, but is slowly starting to realize that its goals, its objectives, might not be the same as hers.

I'll sleep with him. God, I want to sleep with him more than anything else in the world, but let me do it my way!

Leaning against the sink, she presses her forehead against the cool glass of the bathroom mirror. It's useless of course. Since that very first time when she had been forced to watch her father die, she has never once been able to bend the dreamscape to her will. Perhaps, once she makes love with Gavin, a whole new realm of possibilities will open up, but what if, instead of reveling in the shared awareness of their link, instead of gleefully exploring all the wonders the dreamscape has to offer, he hates her for binding him to a destiny he had no part in choosing?

Shuddering, she remembers his wounded expression after discovering that she had arranged his meeting with Laura. How much worse would the betrayal be when he learned she had known all along how making love would change them?

From the kitchen, she hears the crash of something metal hitting the floor, and Gavin cursing. Whirling, she claws at the door knob, wrenches it open, and rushes forward. In front of her, it looks as though a fair sized kibble bomb has exploded in front of the kitchen's island. Mac's food bowl is lying upside down in the room's far corner, and the German Shepherd, paws splayed on the slick flooring and nose pressed to the ground, is scrabbling in mad circles after the food.

Gavin, leaning in defeat against the counter, sees her, and makes a helpless gesture with both hands. "Dropped it," he explains, and cracks up.

"Did I," she asks, advancing on him while trying not to crush Mac's dinner under foot, "or did I not, fall in love with the clumsiest guy in San Jose?"

"No no," he wheezes, holding up his hands in protest, "not San Jose. Dad moved us here, so I'm all yours now!"

When she kisses him, Gavin stops laughing, and wraps his arms around her. His warm lips open under hers, and his fingers begin a slow circular massage up her spine.