Love is Like a Cabbage
Author: Lindsay
Category: AU Isabel/Alex with M/L and M/M
Rating: MATURE – just to be safe.
Disclaimer: The characters of Roswell belong to The WB, Melinda Metz, and UPN. No infringement intended.
Summary: Third in the To-Hell-You-Ride series, featuring our favorite gazer duo.
Author’s note: First time writing Gazer, so feedback is a must. This one is dedicated to a few Gazer’s I adore and worship: Biged, cardinalgirl42, TrueLovePooh, and Mt Gazer. Big smooches to these guys for getting me to even contemplate this. **Heehee** Hope I don’t totally screw this up…
Shoutouts go out to my two best friends, Nate and Les, for contributing indirectly to this fic. I love you guys, even though you’ll never know just how much you inspire me. **evil laugh**
banner by truelovepooh
Love is Like a Cabbage
My love is like a cabbage
Divided into two,
The leaves I give to others
The heart I give to you.
-Anonymous
<center>Part One</center>
Alex Whitman liked blondes. He liked them in all shapes and sizes; tall, skinny, short, stout, with a handle or a spout – he didn’t care much. He had nothing against brunettes or redheads, it was just that when a woman walked by with a mane of flowing golden tresses, it was all he could do not to start panting like a bitch in heat.
He figured it was probably this affinity that had first led him to making the cardinal sin of dating his best friend. Well, so that wasn’t exactly true. Maria had a lot more going for her than just blonde hair. She was spunky and witty and gorgeous, and he loved her to death. But sometimes he just wanted to kill her. This was definitely one of those times.
He often wondered why he couldn’t have just dated Liz, then all would be right with the world. Liz was shy where Maria was blunt and outgoing. Liz was polite where Maria had a tendency to butt in and take over. Liz was…much easier to handle. But he hadn’t felt that snap attraction to Liz, despite the fact that she was one of the most beautiful and wonderful women he’d ever had the pleasure of knowing.
They’d all three been best friends since their school days back in Roswell, and Alex had suffered endless ribbing from his male cohorts due to his close relationship with the two women. He hadn’t cared; he understood women. He got along them, and they adored him. It was one of the few blessings he’d been bestowed with, and he wasn’t about to let it go to waste.
Alex knew he wasn’t what women considered a hunk. At best, he’d been illustrated as the dreaded cute, the same adjective used to decribe fluffy ducks and puppies. He was too tall, his body too lanky, and his mouth too sarcastic. Add in there a fanatical fear of Jell-O gelatin, and he wasn’t exactly a prize - to him anyway. But still…he didn’t think he was too bad off. He’d seen worse…or at least, he figured there were worse out there.
Then the unthinkable had happened. He’d met someone, actually met someone. She wasn’t his best friend, or even one of the women that Liz and Maria had pushed at him from time to time during their double dating days. This was a bonafide wo-man and, God help him, she was blonde. But that wasn’t where the goodies had ended.
He’d been minding his own business, tuning up his guitar at one of the clubs he played at occasionally and waiting for Maria to show up for her gig, when he’d literally felt the hair on the back of his neck rise. He’d looked up, drawn for some reason to the club entrance, and been struck dumb.
She had to be nearly six feet tall, or at least her legs had made her seem so. They were long, shapely, and gave a guy the automatic image of them wrapped around his middle. The light caught her hair, making the burnished strands sparkle.She had the lushest figure he’d ever seen on a woman, a reminder of times past when women actually allowed themselves to have curves, and all of those curves were encased in a tight red sheath that clung to every inch of her like a second skin.
He couldn’t help it. He’d popped a string. Then she’d moved, and the spell was broken. It was obvious she was looking for someone, but whomever the lucky guy was, because let’s face it – with a woman who looked like that, there had to be a guy – he hadn’t shown up yet. She took a table near the stage and ordered a martini, straight up, with three olives. He admired that kind of daring.
He’d given her surreptitious glances every few minutes, wondering who she was and why she seemed almost familiar. He was pretty damn sure he’d never seen a woman who looked like that before in his life. Hmm…he’d always liked a mystery.
Maria had eventually arrived in her usual flurry of flash and excited babble, and Alex had been momentarily distracted by his friend. He was careful not to show any attention to the mystery woman, because he knew Maria only too well. They might have broken up and stayed best friends, but she was still wildly territorial of him. He knew it wasn’t due to any lingering desire on her part, it was simply the way Maria had always been with him. Alex often teased with Liz that she was like a fiercely protective mother bear; always checking up on him and making sure he toed the line. Never mind that it was Maria more often than not getting into trouble and needing someone to bail her out.
They’d played their set, Maria doing an amazing performance that filled Alex with complete pride. It was her biggest dream to one day get a record contract, and he thought she had the skill for it, in spades. As for him, he was just happy goofing around in Roswell, playing his gigs when he could get them and mooching off his trust fund the rest of the time. It was probably the only good thing about being considered a “rich kid” in a town like Roswell.
He’d done the out-of-state college thing, graduated summa cum laude from Ohio State University with a major in music education. He’d come back home with the vague thought of teaching private guitar lessons to high schoolers, but he’d just…never done it. It wasn’t that he was lazy exactly, his “highest academic distinction” proved that. It was more that he just didn’t feel ready to pursue an actual career yet. The timing felt…wrong.
Liz and Maria, being the awesome and accepting friends that they were, had understood and supported him. Although he hadn’t actually told them that he really had no idea of when he planned on getting a headstart on his life. For all they knew, he was just taking a year off…or two. Or three.
He’d hooked back up with some friends from high school who were still doing the band route around town, and taken to completely destroying his parents’ hopes and dreams as he wasted day after day doing nothing but catering to the Roswell nightlife circuit. His dad had threatened to cut him off, more than once, but there wasn’t really anything he could do seeing as how Alex had been of-age to reach his assets since he’d turned twenty-one. So they just bitched back and forth, while Alex basically ignored them. It was pretty much business as usual at the Whitman’s. But back to the night that had changed everything…
He and Maria had finished their set, and she and the others had gone off in search of refreshment while Alex took a breather offstage at one of the nearby tables that just happened to be next to the gorgeous blonde. He loosened his collar, gladly accepting a free drink from one of the waiters and downed it all in one long gulp.
A quick glance over proved Long Legs was watching him, a vague expression of disdain coloring her features. He’d felt the tips of his ears grow red, a characteristic that had plagued him since grade school whenever he was embarrassed. As a result, he’d eventually let his dark, choppy locks grow out into tousled waves that covered the tops of his ears and spared him any further discomfiture.
Their eyes met over the few feet that separated them, and he felt his heart start to play a game of ping-pong within his chest. She was even more beautiful up close, with long-lashed brown eyes the color of a spring fawn. It was an interesting contrast with her silvery blonde hair, and one that he could appreciate.
He wasn’t quite sure what had come over him at that moment; by all means he should have been intimidated. She was definitely sending out “do not touch, do not pass go and collect two-hundred dollars” signals, but for whatever reason he ignored them and concentrated on the almost imperceptible vulnerability shining in her gaze.
He took a chance and mouthed, “Hi”, fully expecting her to give him the brush-off. When it didn’t happen, and she didn’t immediately double over laughing at his audacity, he perked up and awaited her reaction with baited breath.
She blinked, appearing confused for a moment before she glanced around at the surrounding tables. She all but pointed at herself and asked, “Who, me?”
Alex was flabbergasted. Was she serious? Did she actually think he was flirting, well attempting to and probably doing a sucky job of it, with anyone else in the room? When she was sitting there? Ha! Not freaking likely. But he only nodded, debating over whether or not he really had enough courage to go over and sit with her.
God, he didn’t. He wasn’t a Gryfindor, he was a freaking Hufflepuff! The thought of his favorite book series nearly made him grin, until he realized he was staring at Legs with what resembled a scary clown face, the ones that were painted on and exaggerated to immense proportion. No wonder she was giving him a really weird look.
He cleared his throat, and schooled his features into as serious an expression as he could manage. Since he wasn’t really used to being serious, it was harder than he’d thought, and the woman giggled out loud at his facial contortions. At least he’d succeeded in making her laugh, which might not have been his aspiration, but still worked out just fine. She wasn’t laughing at him…and even if she was, she had a wonderful smile so he could forgive almost anything because of that.
Just when he’d garnered enough balls to stand up, a figure approached the table and successfully captured her attention as she stood up to accept the man’s embrace. Then they started kissing right there, in front of him. Ouch.
He felt sort of like he used to when he’d been ruled out in dodgeball; depressed and utterly humiliated by the older kids who liked to throw their balls directly at his head, even when he was already down and incapable of defending himself—
Er, okay, so he apparently still had dodgeball issues. And here he’d thought he was doing so well, not even needing to visit a pyschiatrist as Maria had suggested sarcastically when he’d gotten drunk one night and rambled on about the hazards of school sports.
As it was, he’d just stood there and stared like an idiot as the two had walked off, arm in arm towards the bar, the woman’s husky laughter trailing behind like a slap in the face. Look and dream, buddy, a voice inside of him seemed to sigh. Look and dream.
He hadn’t had long to wallow, because just then Maria rushed over in her lime green platform shoes and skidded across the floor to him. “Alex! Alex, you are not going to believe what happened…”
“Probably not,” he’d sighed, allowing her to take his arm and drag him further away from his mystery woman, half-listening as she rambled on about some producer she’d met while at the bar.
He’d assumed he’d never see the woman again, and had succeeded in putting her out of his mind. Well, that night anyway. Because bright and early the next day, he stepped out of his parents’ house and nearly got hit by a speeding bullet that resembled a silver Camry. And behind the wheel, staring at him with a white face was the goddess from the night before.
“Oh my God, are you all right?” she’d cried out, throwing open the door as one lengthy leg appeared. He watched, transfixed and unable to do more than stare, as she emerged from the vehicle in a flash of tight jeans and leather boots. His gaze got lodged somewhere around her chest, but hey, he was a guy.
“All right?” He’d managed to answer, although his voice resembled a strangled kitten. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine. Are you all right?”
“Me? Why wouldn’t I be all right?” she’d wondered in confusion. “Look, are you sure I didn’t give you a panic attack or something? You look a little green.”
He did? Damn it. He tied for a very un-green look, perking up and shrugging his shoulders in practiced nonchalance. “Nah, I’m fine.”
She’d watched him a moment longer, then a faint smile appeared on the edges of her lips. “All right. See you around, Alex.”
His jaw had dropped, and he’d totally missed the opportunity to find out just how the heck she knew his name, knew him, as she got back in the car and threw him an absent wave before speeding back off. He’d watched her leave, staring out into the distance long after she’d disappeared.
It wasn’t long until he determined that she was staying at the Evanses place across the street from his parents. He’d used the excuse of his apartment being fumigated to stay there and up the possibility of running into her.
Who was she? The Evanses had a son, he knew. He was older than Alex had been, finished school years ahead of he and his friends. There had been a younger Evans, as well, but Alex couldn’t remember much about her except that she was shy and somewhat pudgy. He’d caught her watching him a few times when he’d been practicing his guitar underneath the old oak tree in the quad, but she’d never dared to approach him. He wasn’t sure why; out of all the people in that school, he was probably the least formidable, but they’d never even spoken.
Wait. There had been one instance…
He’d been rushing to make it to gym on time, horsing around with some guys from English class when he’d had a headlong collision with a figure who’d been turning the corner at the exact same time as him. Books had gone flying, his guitar case slamming to the ground, along with a sharp crack.
When he’d looked down, he’d met wide brown eyes before they both glanced down at the now destroyed salt map of New Mexico. His friends had yelled at him to hurry up, they were going to be late, but he couldn’t quite tear his eyes away from the sight of those brown orbs now brimming with frustrated tears.
“I’m sorry,” he’d stated quietly. “Can I…do anything?”
She’d seemed taken aback, as if she hadn’t expected him to notice her distress, but simply run along and follow his friends. She just shook her head, her voice sounding quiet and surprisingly feminine. “N-no. It was my fault.”
They’d stared at one another as the seconds ticked by, until one of his friends’s had finally turned and grabbed his arm. “Alex, let’s go, dude! She can fix it herself, and next time watch out where she’s going.”
He’d been filled with an irrational anger as she’d winced, seeming to draw into herself as she hunched her shoulders and backed away. He shrugged off the restraining arm and called back, “Go ahead without me.” And he picked up the map, somehow managing to juggle it along with his own books as he beckoned for her to follow him. “I’ll walk you to class, explain what happened. It won’t be your fault…?”
“Isabel,” she’d responded in a tiny voice. “And you’re Alex Whitman. It’s okay, I can handle it from here.”
In the end, he’d given up the map, recognizing the faint flush on the younger girl’s cheeks and feeling a mixture of sympathy and some other unnamed emotion that he couldn’t have identified at that age. He gave her an encouraging smile, flipped her two thumbs up, and was gone.
Weird. He hadn’t thought about that event in years…what could have made him remember it now? That’s when it hit him, like a bolt of lightening. Jesus, he was a complete moron. An idiot. Mystery Woman and Awkward Girl were one in the same. No wonder she’d seemed somehow familiar, although he had to admit she’d changed so much over the years since he’d last seen her, that he probably wouldn’t have put two and two together if he hadn’t seen her coming out of the Evanses home.
After coming to his startling realization, he’d purposefully put himself in her path whenever possible, and their encounters turned from slightly awkward, to a hint of underlying playfulness. Over the next few days, he’d managed to crack her icy veneer and bring out the memory of that girl he’d tried to rescue with a broken salt map. It became something of a game to see what he could do to make her smile, and his antics ran the gamut from sunbathing on the front lawn to accidentally happening upon her at the mailbox in the morning.
A usual exchange between them went something like this:
“Good morning, Isabel Evans.”
“Good morning, Alex Whitman.”
“Nice…Pottery Barn catalogue you got there.”
“Nice Spiderman pajamas.”
Toss in a few more witty comments on his part, and he was pretty sure he was getting to her. She was definitely warming up to him, and he tried to assure himself that tomorrow would be the day that he’d finally get up the nerve to try an actual conversation. His chance ended up coming at a completely unexpected time.
He’d been sitting on the front porch; the moonlight filtering down on the quiet neighborhood as the warm desert night air blew through the trees. He was strumming his guitar absently, thinking of Isabel when a shadow had fallen across him. He’d looked up, and there she’d been.
They’d spent the entire night talking, and he’d learned that she was currently taking a break from a modeling agency in LA that she’d joined after high school. He’d been shocked, having remembered the quiet, clumsy girl she’d been back in those days. As it was, she couldn’t have been more than twenty-two. How could things have changed so drastically?
Then he’d felt like an ass. God, was he one of those kinds of guys who only judged on outward appearance? Isabel, long legs and big boobs or not, was someone he truly wanted to get to know better. He felt a connection with her; he’d felt it back when they’d been awkward teenagers together, both living on the crust of school society, but generally accepted due to their parents’ wealth and circumstance.
“Have I changed so much then?”
He’d looked up, realizing he’d been quiet so long after she’d told him of her career choice, and found her watching him with faintly amused eyes. It also appeared as though she’d expected him to react this way. It was slightly off-putting, and made him overly aware of the fact that he was wearing ratty old sneakers and his favorite pair of jeans, whereas she was a veritable fashion plate.
He didn’t want to lie, and knew she’d know he was if he tried, so he went for honesty. “You do seem…different.”
Something had come over her expression then, something that tightened her features as she looked away and out into the night. “Better, you mean. Acceptable.”
He was taken aback by the bitterness in her tone. “Isabel, I didn’t mean—”
“I know you didn’t,” she interrupted quietly. Then she smiled. “You know, I had the hugest crush on you back in high school. And you never even knew I existed.”
“Not true,” he managed, mind spinning around at the implications of her statement. “I knew you did, I…I…”
“You were busy with your own life, and couldn’t be bothered with a gauche, fat girl with who never even talked, much less hung out and did normal things.”
He stared at her. “Isabel…”
“It’s okay, Alex,” she laughed lightly. “I know how it is. And you’re right, I’ve changed. I’m not shy anymore, and I know how to get what I want.”
He wasn’t quite sure what to say when she turned and moved closer to him. He felt vaguely hunted, and couldn’t claim he disliked the feeling one bit. Still, he’d felt the need to point out, “You weren’t fat.”
“Just gauche and weird, then?”
“No! I didn’t—”
“Alex, you’re so cute,” she’d laughed, and then she’d simply leaned over, and placed her lips on his.
She’d tasted like cinnamon, warm and spicy as he sat there and simply let the amazing feeling seep inside of him. Just when the thought had entered his barely coherent brain to try to put his arms around her or something, she pulled back, licked her lips and gave him a sly smile worthy of a siren. “Mmm…” was all she said. “Maybe we’ll have to try this again some time.”
Then she stood up to leave, and his brain finally caught up to reality as he jumped up. “Wait! Did you just ask me out?”
“Maybe I did,” she’d called back. “Got a problem with that?”
Did monkeys crawl out of his butt in the morning? But what came out of his mouth was, “What about that guy?”
That caught her attention, and she’d shot him a confused look. “What guy?”
“The one from the other night…the one you were kissing.” He felt his ears start to burn, but really, he needed to know. The memory of the handsome man he’d seen escorting her that night at the club kept replaying in his mind, and he felt like he was moving through syrup, everything in slow motion as he awaited her response.
Her forehead wrinkled, then she laughed. “Who, Grant? We’re just friends, Alex. Besides, he’s gay. See you on Saturday?”
“Wait, gay? As in…happy?” he’d called back, his head spinning as she laughed and continued on her way across the street. He watched her go inside, and patted his chest with one hand.
“Don’t shut down on me now,” he muttered.
Three months later, they’d been an official couple. Another six months and they were living together in LA, where he was attempting to start up his own music studio. He was in love, and figured she was well on her way as well. He felt like he knew her better than he knew anyone and she was privy to everything of him, as well.
It had been only natural when he’d asked her to marry him. She’d accepted, over a romantic dinner at home where he’d popped out an antique cladaugh ring that he’d found at a pricey jewelry shop on Rodeo Drive, and within minutes the ring had been on her finger, and he’d been inside her. Dinner had gone uneaten, but neither of them had cared.
That’s when the shit hit the fan. He’d managed to keep their relationship lowkey, wanting only to spend time with Isabel without the well-meaning prying of friends and family, but the time had come to spill his guts.
It wasn’t like they didn’t know he was living with her, or even that things were getting pretty serious. But he was pretty sure that no one was expecting the kind of news they had, at least not this soon. He could practically read Maria’s reaction, and was not particularly anticipating that moment.
He’d have rather told Liz first, because she understood the subject of love more than Maria, and would have served as a backup of sorts when he went to tell his other best friend of his upcoming nuptials. But unfortunately he’d somehow managed to lose Liz’s phone number in Colorado, and the only person he could get it from, would have been Maria. Which kind of defeated the purpose to begin with.
So…he’d sucked it up, and he and Isabel had gone back home to face their families and Hurricane DeLuca. It had gone over fairly easy with both of their families, surprisingly easy, in fact. He got along with the Evanses and knew they respected him, as well. He’d yet to meet Isabel’s older brother, but she’d assured him that she had him wrapped around her finger and he’d have no objections, so long as she was happy.
His family had been slightly more misgiving, but only slightly. His mother hadn’t been too crazy at the idea of them settling down for good in California, but when it had come out that they’d decided on someplace much closer to home, Albuquerque, they’d both given in with smiles on their faces. Now all that was left, was telling Maria and Liz. He wasn’t worried over the latter, but the former…
Maria and Isabel had managed to get off on the wrong foot. Maria had a tendency to be pretty frank and blunt, even upon meeting a person, and Alex hated to say it…but she could also be slightly judgemental. And she’d taken one look at Isabel, in her designer clothes and cool attitude that covered inner insecurities, and deemed her a bitchy bimbo. The fact that she’d as much as said so, to Isabel’s face, hadn’t helped matters any.
Isabel thought Maria was flaky and self-involved, and was extremely jealous of the closeness he shared with her. It had caused their first big fight, when Isabel had discovered that he and Maria had once did some “mattress bouncing” as Maria had so crudely put it. He usually appreciated that kind of humor in her, but at the time he’d wanted nothing more than to scream. Which brought him to the reason why he wanted to kill her.
He’d decided it was time to get the hell out of Dodge, and quickly made plans to spend New Years up in Telluride, Colorado, which was where Isabel’s brother lived and worked, and quite coincidentally, was where Liz also resided. On an even more odd twist of fate, Max and Liz had met and fallen in love, and Alex now had even more of a reason to get a look at his fiancee’s big brother.
In order to get away from Maria before she either ruined his relationship or gave him cause for murder, he dragged Isabel to the airport and took her down to Florida under the guise of meeting more of his family. They’d stay there until New Year’ Eve, then fly out to Telluride.
Unfortunately, a huge blizzard had struck the small mountain-town and all flights in or out of Colorado had been canceled until further notice. So they’d made plans to visit Max and Liz later on that month or the next, and flew back to California.
They spent all of January trying to sell their old studio apartment. Finally, an old college buddy of Alex’s took the place off their hands, and they started to search for the comfortable two-bedroom apartment that they would then call home, all the while living in the guest-house behind the Evanses house. In the midst of everything, wedding plans had gotten underway.
Then Alex thought he might go insane. Isabel had a tendency to become a tad controlling when it came to planning big events, which he’d learned over their first Christmas together, that same year. Her family affectionately gave her the name “the Christmas Nazi”, and Alex had warily laughed in agreement, all the while hoping to God she didn’t find out. It just wasn’t worth the pain and torture sure to follow.
When he’d received the call from Liz, demanding that they come and visit before she was forced to fly down and see them, and then he’d really be in for it, he jumped at the chance to take a much-needed break from wedding plans and get out of New Mexico. Colorado was looking pretty damn good to him.
It was February now, and winter had still not subsided in the Centennial State. Six feet of snow plagued Denver, with still more flurries coming every hour. Which is how they found themselves currently on an undeterminable layover stop, shacked up in a Holiday Inn outside of Oklahoma City. But he had to admit they were enjoying just being by themselves again.
A faint purring interrupted his daydreaming, and Alex rolled over to find himself staring into a pair of sleepy brown eyes. He shifted, and came into contact with a wet spot that spread across the hotel bedsheets. He let out a groan, throwing his arm over his face and calling out, “Hey Iz, your dog did it again!”
The sound of a hair-dryer stopped from inside the bathroom, and Isabel’s voice rang out. “What?”
“I said, your excuse of a dog pissed everywhere again,” Alex glowered at the innocent expression of the tiny teacup poodle that blinked back at him. “Bad pooch. That was bad. Do these look like a fire hydrant?”
“Oh honey, you know Jesse doesn’t know any better,” Isabel responded with a sigh. She stepped out of the bathroom, fluffing her silky hair as she approached. “He hasn’t been properly trained yet and—” Her gaze fell on the expensive silk blouse that was laying by his feet, sporting a yellowish stain similar to the one now soaking through their sheets. “Jesse, I’m going to kill you!”
Alex tried not to smirk, but it was hard. “I told you to leave him at home with your parents. He’s just gonna piss all over everything he sits on.”
“I’m telling you – bad dog! – that it just takes a little bit of patience – we do not touch Mama’s Gaultier’s!” Isabel rubbed frantically at the ruined shirt, then gave a frustrated little squeak. “It’s hopeless! I can get blood, sweat and tears out of fabric, but dog urine…arrgh!”
“You have like, five of those same shirts,” Alex pointed out. “Wear the one in black instead.”
“I can’t. I had it all set out to match my shoes, and now I can’t wear the Ferragamos I wanted.” She was pouting, and even if she was speaking what consitituted as Greek to him, he still couldn’t resist wrapping her in his arms.
“It’s okay, baby. You’ll look perfect in anything you wear. Trust me.”
“I just…Maria’s going to be there,” she started hesitantly.
Alex lifted a brow. “Yeah, she is. I hope you’re not about to bring up that crazy situation that happened between us years ago, Iz. You have nothing to worry about Maria.”
“She hates me.”
“She does not, she just…she doesn’t know you. Give her a chance, baby. Maybe she’ll surprise you,” Alex squeezed her shoulder. And who knows, maybe you’ll surprise each other.
Isabel was quiet for a moment, then sighed. “I can’t wait to see Max again. It’s been years…”
“Yeah, I’m pretty psyched about seeing Liz again, too,” Alex grinned happily. “That girl’s just so—” He trailed off when Isabel’s sharp gaze pinned him threateningly.
“You have way too many girl friends,” she decided airily. “Always have.”
“Me?” he bleated through a disbelieving chuckle. “You’re kidding, right? You, the woman who makes men fall out of their chairs when she walks past?”
Her expression grew coy and she leaned over to nip his lips. “Yeah, but there’s only one man I want to make fall out of his chair.”
“He better be sitting right here, in a puddle of puppy piss.”
“Hmm…”
Then they were both laughing, Maria and other troubles forgotten as they fell into a world all their own.
End of Part One. To Be Continued
I won't even start to try and explain, but believe me when I say that I wasn't just sitting around on my ass the last month or so, lol. And...I'm here with a new part so hopefully that will make up for some of the wait. This is just part A of the second chapter, so there's still more to come...but this is all that I had time to get edited and posted today. I'll be back, most likely tomorrow, with the second half. Then chapter three sometime later this week. If not, I'll try and have someone post it for me, since I've had a bit of trouble posting long parts on the board lately. Anyway...enough blabbing. I hope you all enjoy!
