I sit there, lost in the memory of a pinup show. The foggy memory clears, and nothing about poor cell phone video gets in the way. With her there, her hand upon my leg as she sips the last of the wine, I can fe…..

“Good stuff,” she says, knocking rest of the wine back, and giggling. I haven’t heard that sound in…fourteen years?

I stand up, walking over towards the door for a moment, to get the waiter’s attention to order another bottle. Must be getting late.

I turn around, headed back to the chair, and for a moment, the scent my mind labels as purple blasts through me. Frowning, “Odd though, right? As you talk, I remember those memories, but those are all things from before. Don’t you think its a little strange that I don’t even remember one after we escaped? When I was in control again?” The accusation is strong, even if just hinted at, as I continued, ”Wasn’t Dryse suspicious that you just disappeared for a few days? Didn’t it cause you problems? What did you tell Olivia?”

Even though I’ve slouched back down into my chair next to her, I can feel her withdraw, and a wave of shame floods through me, I can tell from her expression that I have hurt her. After she risked everything to help me with Bryce, to come here. “Amelia, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” I’m not really sure how many things I am apologizing for. “It’s all so difficult to process. I have problems with anger. I don’t remember being that way before.” I laugh bitterly.” Who the hell knows what I’d remember though. I have problems with lots of things anymore, I guess.”

She starts to respond, but then taking a deep breath she grabs my hand again, holding it in both, as she turns partially towards me, “Dryse wasn’t suspicious because Dryse wasn’t in Australia during the mission. At first I thought he would be, that’s why I turned Lucas down when he said you’d contacted him but ended up showing up right before we deployed.”

I sigh, about to speak when the waiter returns, and starts the whole wine opening ritual, before I shortly state, “Just pour it.” Slightly offended, he pours two glasses, and then quickly departs.

I look around again, out past the balcony, the traffic has started to die down, where its actually moving at a regular pace. “Unless I am very wrong, this wasn’t exactly our scene, was it?”

She arches a beautiful brow at my lame attempt at levity, smiling, then looks around the open balcony. “No, this isn’t our scene. But then again, new beginnings require new scenery. I didn’t think you’d ever be back in my life and I hadn’t planned on being in yours. But all that’s changed.” The smile grows. “Sometimes change might be a good thing.”

“I don’t know ‘melia. You might not like the changes. I don’t think I do.” Damn it, if I keep being so morose, this is going to fall apart. So I blurt, “Where did Livy come from?”

“I thought we covered that before dinner,” and she smiles impishly, “unless you need a demonstration?” Then she blushes.

I blush too, heat rising to my face until its an oven, “No, I mean….huh, I mean, the nickname, instead of Olivia. I mean, I think I get why Olivia and of course Hannah….but Livy?”

Livy?” She looks thoughtful over the rim of her wineglass. “I don’t know. Just kinda came about. It makes OLIVIA that much more threatening if her nickname is all cutesy.” At that, she winks and desire floods through me.

I grab her chair, and lift with a single hand, balancing and moving all in one, gracefully, without spilling a drop of her wine. If she’s shocked at the display of strength, she doesn’t show it. Now, facing her directly, with no table in the way, our knees interlocked and touching, I reach out and grasp her other hand.

I look into her eyes, “Tell me……,I’m sorry. Thank you……thank you for helping me to remember….anything, but especially all of these memories. Of how…..we made her. I’ve gained so much tonight than I have since we escaped. But….tell me something about you……tell me something that has changed for you. Tell me about Amelia.”

It took a long time to get control of all the sensory input my….condition….grants, but in moments like this I am forever grateful for these enhancements. I watch out of the corner of my eyes as her brown eyes shift, studying my face, truly studying. I can only assume she is contrasting my current look to what she remembers, especially up close and personal. I’m thankful, and overwhelmed by the senses, and I compare what I have now, to five years ago, to fifteen years ago. My olfactory senses are off the charts inflamed, memories of her mixing with her now, stirring nostalgia from years before. My unnatural hearing picks up the quickened pace of her heart, thudding beneath her perfect breast. All in a moment, an eternal moment, before I feel/taste/smell the heat rushing to the surface, and she blushes,”No need to thank me, Brett. We’ll keep at it for as long as you want.”

I can tell I’ve caught her off guard, and its pleasing in a playful way, and I smile as I recognize her uncomfortable smirk, a telltale defense for those rare times when she’s caught in a situation she’s unprepared for, “There’s not much to tell. Traded in the medkit for a recipe book. Traded in cammies for summer dresses. Boomsticks became broomsticks.” She’d laugh at that last one. A feminine giggle. “I…became a mum.”

“You smell like home,” I murmur, lost in the moment.

I don’t know how long I sat there in that moment, her studying me even after she finished speaking, a hand rising up to lightly stroke the beard that wouldn’t have been there before. “But you, what has changed with you. You haven’t….haven’t aged a day in five years.”

The moment is broken, as I’m reminded of the monstrosity I have become, and I lean back slightly, before looking around. “I don’t really allow any of it to show in public….I guess we will have to find a different time for that. But you’re right, one of the reasons I went for the beard. Even Bryce looks older than me now sometimes, and he’s not even twenty four yet. Least I got that going for me,” and I can’t keep the bitterness out of my voice. “Perhaps I have changed, but how would I know?”

I take a deep breath. “Where do we go from here, Amelia?”  Maybe its all the emotions that make me ask again.  

I’m thankful that she takes the change in topic as it is, and doesn’t press. “Going forward I want what’s best for Livy so yea, school is a must. I’d prefer to stay with you….” The pause would be inadvertent and she quickly catches up, saying. “…I mean….you know what I mean….” Flustered, though, she adds, “At the base. I want us to stay at the base.” She pauses to take a substantial gulp of the wine, long past sipping, “With you, I want us to stay with you.  We have to do everything else in stages,” and she reaches out to touch my face, “but we have to be careful, patient so we don’t…..hurt her.”

I take my time in replying, drinking in her face, her emotion, “I have less patience than I used to Amelia. I know we need to do this right, and I don’t want to hurt her, or you, but…..I’ve already missed so much. I don’t want to miss any more. There’s been so many bad things, I…….will do my best to be patient. Maybe someday I’ll have another chance, but she’s all I have…..all we have.”

She takes a deep breath, and nods.

---

I think the restaurant staff had been happy when we finally paid the bill, even with a substantial tip, a tip that was more than I made in a couple weeks of humping it through mountains or desert. Rough times the wait staff had, delivering the right wine and snails.

We walked through the city for an hour, crossing streets at random and when she grabbed my hand to pull me in one direction, she didn’t let go after we crossed, and, well, neither did I.

We finally came across a place called, Joe’s Diner.

“I think this is more our style. Want some coffee?”

When she nods, I pull her into the cafe, walking towards the back corner booth, where we could see out onto the street and the front door. She knows me well enough that she slides into the booth first, knowing I will be more comfortable between her and the door, and with my left hand free.

She talks. I listen. We hold hands, and the tactile feelings remind me even more of the memories she relates. As she tires, she lays her head on my shoulder and I forget that not everyone goes without sleep the way I do.

“Amelia, what’s your favorite memory….of us together. Or, at least besides, well you know.”

“Favorite memory?” She’d push her teeth into her lower lip thoughtfully as she eyed the moon. “Port Phillip. January of 04. Remember?” By now, just even a small verbal prompt can trigger the memory, so I nod, although it’s still foggy.

“We borrowed Harley Webb’s glass bottom and trolled a few miles out? He had a huge thing for me and I wouldn’t let you touch me on his boat, so you bored out the engine until it flooded and we couldn’t get back to shore?” As she talks, I can smell the winds coming through Bass Strait. “We dropped anchor and spent all night on that deck. Just you and me….talking….making plans.” I suppose that’s when it hit me in the face. Her yearning sentiment, and the long buried love I still carried.

“You’ve been my anchor……all this time. These memories are….easy’s not the right word. But everything has been so fogged, so blank. They come back so easily as you relate them, at your touch. Something triggered me to break out five years ago. I think its because they never purged my love for you.”

I’m shocked at what I’ve said, because I love Shawna. In that moment, though, I realize that I still love Amelia too. I’m so stunned at what I’ve said that I miss how she reacts.

When I don’t respond, she turns toward me, her other hand coming around and touching my cheek, turning me to face her. “I promise to tell Olivia the truth. I will do it as quickly as possible, but it will take some time.”

I nod, making no intelligent reply, enjoying the feel of her hand on my face as she continues. “I know you can’t show me here, but there’s no form you can show me that will ever drive me away.”

I start to lean into her and that’s when the waitress appears, “More coffee?”

“No, ma’am. I think its time we left.”

As we exit the diner, I say, “Wan’ to walk…..its pretty far, but I assume your still in shape and ca’ do a few miles.”

Her false offended smile is playful, and she twists, sticking out a long muscled leg, “If I can’t would ya carry me? Like that time at Shark Bay when I cut m’foot on the reef and ya had carries me 4 or 5 miles back to the bungalow?” For the next mile or so all I can think of is what happened after we got back to the bungalow.

Walking along the beach in the middle of the night, the moon arcs beautifully over the water, but the glow from the city is distant, as we approach the area in between San Diego and Tempest Point, where the nature refuge  runs for miles just off the beach.

“Are you sure yo’ wan’ to see this?”

“Yes, I told yo’, nothing will drive me away.”

“Fine.” I’m a bit annoyed but I take off jacket, and hand it to her, then undo the buttons of my shirt, and hand that to her as well.

“There’s no good way to demonstrate some of this, but….” and I let my eyes go yellow, sticking out my thin tongue, with its snaked fork tip…and not wanting to wait for the disgust in her eyes, I drop the all of the camouflage, the tattoo’s darkening, the scaled nature becoming more dominant, the features of that fucking snake taking over my body. Then, because I need her to see it all, I need her to see the monster I have become, I let my jaws widen, elongate into a grotesque version, the fangs growing, becoming pointed, and then I look up.

She’s standing there, fascinated, maybe appalled. I can see the horror begin to overtake her…..or maybe not; asshe steps forward, a hand raised gently to touch the skin, slightly roughed and scale-like, moving up to touch my jaw, to brush my fang.

“I said nothing will drive me away,” and she rises on her feet and kisses me gently on the cheek.

“That’sssss no’ all,” and I allow the camouflage to take full affect, and I shimmer, the sands and water and moonlight reflecting off me, or my body mirroring them, but her hand still rests upon my chest.

“Beautiful,” she murmurs as her hand caresses me. I force my face back into “normal.”

She looks up at me, and her eyes glisten in the moonlight, “Kiss me, Brett.”

I do, and emotion explodes across my senses. I pick her up, and I can feel her heat as she wraps her legs around me.

---

As dawn begins to break over the bluffs to the east, I wake her from the exhausted doze she has fallen into. As she begins to stir, her body on its side against mine, she awakens more fully to all of the sensations.

“Again? Three times isn’t enough?”

“Well, there are some nice side effects to these changes,” I whisper, amused.

She rolls on top of me as I lay in the sand, as she slides down on top of me, she says with a hiss of breath, “You really are going to have to carry me the rest of the way.”

As the sun crests, its golden light casting a halo off of her golden hair, “Always. Always.”