tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52680360081011929342024-03-05T06:19:37.474-08:00Jeremiah and MicahPlease Note: All stories on this Blog are Copyright - 2009-2018LJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09209660278651151524noreply@blogger.comBlogger25125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5268036008101192934.post-66171934000749336752014-12-24T14:09:00.003-08:002015-12-24T07:36:11.435-08:00Sharing Christmas Magic<div class="MsoNormal">
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Jeremiah briefly closed his
eyes in an unsuccessful attempt to drown out the hubbub going on around them.
He questioned, not for the first time, if he’d make a mistake by having a
change of heart and allowing his partner to talk him into this excursion. In
all honesty, he had to admit to being intrigued by whatever Micah was so eager
to show him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">He opened his eyes and followed
the insistent tugging on his arm. Moments later they were standing in front of
an array of Christmas decorations, the likes of which he’d never seen before. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Wait until you hear this
one, Jer,” Micah announced excitedly as he squeezed the red and white spot on a
small tree’s limb. The stuffed green tree began to move in time to the tune of ‘Dancing
Around the Christmas Tree’. “<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-CA;">Isn’t</span> it grand?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Oh, it’s grand all right.”
Jeremiah sounded like he had some misgivings about just how grand it really was.
Fortunately, Micah didn’t pick up on them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“This Santa talks. He’s
reading his ‘naughty or nice’ list,” Micah explained as he pinched the two-foot
tall Santa’s hand. “Of course he can only read a few names, but I’m pretty sure
I’m on the ‘good’ list even if it doesn’t get read on this decoration.” The
younger man studied the stuffed figure in front of him. “Hmm, I wonder if you
can special order different ones. Folks could then get the one that has all the
names they want on it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“I have no idea, love.”
Jeremiah worked at keeping up the façade that he was enjoying himself. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Watch this one, Jer.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Once again, the older man
responded to the request by feigning interest in the fake Rudolph with a nose
that flashed on and off to the tune of ‘Rudolph, The Red Nose Reindeer’.
However, it wasn’t the decorations that held most his attention, it was the
beautifully animated face of his adorable partner. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">‘Yes,’ Jeremiah rethought his
earlier doubts. ‘His happiness is what counts.’ He smiled as Micah merrily chattered
on while activating one ‘toy’ after another. Gone from Jeremiah’s mind was the
confusion of sounds and the pressure of bodies bumping into his, as he
relinquished himself to the joy his lover was experiencing in sharing this
marvelous treasure-trove of Christmas magic with him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Both Ghosts’ pleasure was
interrupted by a shout of discord assailing them from the far end of the aisle.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Hey, Don. It’s happening
again. All the decorations are playing and there’s no one near them. You better
get the manager.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Jeremiah grabbed for Micah’s
hand. “I guess that’s our cue to leave, my pet. But thank you for this
wonderful escapade.” He soundly kissed
the younger man before they stole away. “I wouldn’t have wanted to miss it for
the world.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">The End <o:p></o:p></span></div>
LJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09209660278651151524noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5268036008101192934.post-88198467695693376172014-12-24T14:08:00.003-08:002015-12-24T07:33:22.244-08:00How Can You Tell?<div class="MsoNormal">
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">This was written in response
to a group’s ‘Body Language’ Challenge and ‘Christmas Firsts’ Challenge. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“We’re home!” Micah hollered
as he ran into the living room where his partner was, or had been, enjoying a
bit of peace and quiet before a roaring fire.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Yes, the slamming of the
back door was a bit of a give-away,” Jeremiah drolly responded as he gazed up
into his Brat’s beaming countenance. His eyebrows furrowed in puzzlement as he
accepted the small package handed to him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“It’s tobacco. It’s cherry
flavoured.” Micah dropped down on the floor next to Jeremiah’s knees.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“How did you buys this? You
don’t have any money.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“I kinda earned it.” Micah’s
grin widened.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Jeremiah rolled his eyes.
“Just how much trouble did you get into?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Huh?” Micah’s eyes grew
wider and his mouth opened just enough to portray an expression of naivety. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“You need not feign innocence,
my boy. I know you’ve been up to some mischief.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“How can you tell that when
you weren’t even with me?” Micah sat back on his heels and glared
disbelievingly at his partner.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“You think you may appear to be
idly sitting there, but to the trained eye you are about to burst with pent up
energy. Your shoulders and hips are swaying ever so slightly to that age-old
internal tune of yours which is a definite sign of self-satisfaction. So while
I appreciate this gift,” Jeremiah lifted the pouch of tobacco, “I insist on
knowing the details as to how you acquired it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;"> Before Micah could respond, voices were heard
coming from Glen’s study.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“You should have seen him,
Glen. It was the first time he’d ever seen anything like those musical
Christmas things and he was fascinated by them. He walked up and down the aisle
pushing little buttons, pinching various body parts and pulling strings on
anything that moved and made noise. Then he kept doing it over and over again.
He was soon going fast enough to have over two dozen going simultaneously”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“He must have caused quite a
stir,” Glen merely commented as he sat back in his chair and waited for the
story to unfold.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“The funniest part was that
no one could see him. They could just hear songs and weird sounds playing all at
once. The clerk couldn’t get them to stop and she sent for the floor manager,
who also failed to quiet things down. They must have thought the decorations were
malfunctioning or something.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“And I can’t see you being of
much assistance, right” Glen’s eyes were sparkling as he tried to envision the
goings-on.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Are you kidding? I couldn’t
even remain upright, I was laughing so hard. I really enjoy watching that kid’s
reaction to something new. It was the best entertainment I’d had in a long
time. And well worth the price of a pack of tobacco Micah wanted for Jeremiah.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Glen’s eyes narrowed
slightly. “Did you put him up to this?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Not exactly. Well….he had gotten
the idea when I told him the decorations were display models for folks to test
out before buying them.” TJ frowned as an unpleasant thought came to mind. </span><span style="font-size: 16px;">“</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Hey,
Glen. You’re not going to tell Jeremiah, are you? And get Micah into trouble?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“There would be no need of my
doing so, even if I was so inclined,” Glen smiled and pulled his partner down
onto his lap. “Micah will inadvertently confess all.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Ya think?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Oh yes….we can count on it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“How come?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Because Jeremiah is very
adept at reading his Brat’s body language.” Both men laughed at that
observation.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Jeremiah tapped Micah on the
head to regain his attention. “Over two dozen?” He raised an eyebrow.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“But I didn’t scare anyone,
Jeremiah,” the younger man adamantly declared. He felt it important to clarify
this fact right from the start. “And nobody actually got angry. I think it just kind of had them wondering.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Yes, I can understand that.
I rather wonder things myself from time to time. Like why I ever let you out of
my sight.” Jeremiah tried hard to sound stern and for a second or two it seemed
as if Micah took him seriously.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“You’re not going to forbid
me to go shopping with TJ again, are you, Jer?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Well….” The older man
appeared to be giving this idea some thought. “I’ll not forbid it as long as
you promise to keep the playing of musical decorations down to less than a
dozen.” He chuckled when an overly enthusiastic man landed on his lap. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Next time maybe you should
come with us.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Jeremiah merely grunted,
contented for the moment with just having his Brat here safe and sound in his
arms.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">The End</span></div>
LJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09209660278651151524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5268036008101192934.post-71279169292847489932014-10-31T15:32:00.001-07:002014-10-31T15:32:13.009-07:00Halloween's Revenge<div class="MsoNormal">
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">OCs: Jeremiah & Micah and
Glen & TJ<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Written in response to the
challenge issued in the Den and in WL.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Look what I have here, TJ,”
Micah excitedly announced.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Where did you find that
piece of junk?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“On a pile of trash near the
antique shop around that bend in the road not far from here.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Exactly what could you
possibly want with a wringer from an old-fashion washing machine?” On one hand
TJ wanted to know; on the other…well let’s just say that this was a ghost with
a penchant for mischief. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“To use on Halloween night
for a trick. You know, to get back at a couple of our longstanding nemeses.”
Due to his friend’s expression of bewilderment, Micah decided to pose a
question of his own by way of a partial explanation. “What do you think would
happen if you filled a fair-sized balloon with water, tied it off and stuck the
knotted end in between the wringers and tricked someone into cranking the
handle?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">TJ’s eyes lit up as
comprehension dawned. “Any takers would get mighty wet.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Yeah,” Micah grinned
wickedly. “We just have to camouflage most of this gadget to keep its’ purpose
hidden, while simultaneously keeping the crank easy to access. Then we set it
up and wait for the inquisitive but unsuspected to take the bait.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“And we keep it a secret,
right?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Of course!” Micah declared,
feigning indignation. “We won’t set it up near the house where Jeremiah or Glen
are likely to see it. We’ll put it down the lane where those young
trouble-makers like to sneak up and play tricks on us every year. This year
we’ll get them first.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“I kinda like that idea. It’s
really is our turn to get even,” TJ mused. “We can build a hunting blind of
sorts to hide in and watch.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Hmm, more work! Too bad you
can’t turn invisible like me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Although it could come in
handy at times, I’m not quite ready to die yet. Which is what I’d have to do in
order to pull it off.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“That proves why it is so
important for us to have as much fun as we can while you’re youthful enough to
do so, because you’ll probably be a crotchety old man by the time you acquire
the state I’m in,” Micah teased.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“I can only hope,” TJ joked
in return.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Okay, you get a bunch of
bright orange balloons; the kind that glow in the dark,” Micah suggested, “and
I’ll get to work on covering our newly-procured contraption in something black.
We’ll build the blind together.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Sounds like a plan to me.
I’ll just get my keys and wallet.” TJ turned to go back inside. “By the way, do
you think we need a sign or something to entice those kids into even touching
this thing?” He paused to wait for an answer. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Micah only gave it a few
seconds’ thought. “Nay, their curiosity will take care of that. And then there
is also the thrill they experience when thinking they’ll not get caught.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Neither of them seemed at all
worried about getting caught for being up to no-good themselves. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">The sun had long gone down
and the night air was steadily cooling. Micah and TJ sat huddled in the blind
waiting impatiently for their intended victims to put in an appearance. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Maybe this was a dumb idea
after all,” Micah groused. “We’ve been here for almost two hours and not a soul
has so much as set a foot on this pathway.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Let’s just give it another
half hour or so, okay?” TJ wrapped his arms around himself in an attempt to
ward off the cold.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“No more than that! Beware,
my friend, I’ll hold you to it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“You’d think with all the
work we went to setting this up, you could be more patient.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“I’ve never had much of a
flair for patience. Ask Jeremiah, it really isn’t one of my many skills.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Well, it’s not one of mine
either. Now stop complaining, numb-nuts.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“I think that moniker suits
you better than me, being as you’re the one who is feeling chilled. Now me, I’m
never bother by the weather because….”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Ssh, someone’s coming,” TJ
disrupted his companion’s pending oration. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Both young men instantly sat
up straighter and peered into the darkness. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Shit!” TJ cursed. “It’s old
man Bennett with his two grandkids. I better steer them out of harms way.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“What the hell are they doing
in the lane anyway? Nobody ever takes this route on Halloween, except those
looking for trouble. This is not a public thoroughfare; it’s private property.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">TJ hushed his friend again,
crawled out of their hiding place, brushed leaves off his clothing and walked
over to greet the older gentleman. He maintained a friendly chatter as he
played the part of a tour guide and led them away from the trap he and Micah
had set up.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Settling in again beside his
comrade, TJ let out a sigh of relief. “That was close. I’d hate to have to face
Glen after a soaking wet man and two kids showed up on our doorstep.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Yeah, it wouldn’t take much
for him and Jeremiah to put two and two together.” Micah shuddered at the mere
thought of how his partner would react. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Each kept their thoughts to
themselves as they pensively resumed scanning the lane for intruders. Their
efforts were rewarded when two boys in their late teens came into view. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Tj and Micah rubbed their
hands in glee as the boys drew nearer. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Hey Ben, get a load of all
these decorations.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Hmm, I wonder why anyone
would bother decorating this path.” Ben glanced around and saw that the area
definitely had a somewhat chaotic Halloween scheme to it. Fake cobwebs hung on
the surrounding trees and bushes, and there were numerous jack-o-lanterns
dotting the lane; a few even providing a bit of light from the candles
flickering in them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;"> “Maybe more folks take this route than we
figured,” Jeffrey mused. “All I know is that it looks kinda neat, especially
this thing.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“What the hell is it?” Ben
asked as they slowly walked around the transformed wooden washing machine. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Whatever it was before, it
now resembles a large black cat,” Jeffery declared, a touch of wonder in his
voice. “But this crank is an interesting addition. Wonder what it does?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Let’s find out,” Ben
declared. He put down the brown paper bag he was carrying and started to slowly
turn the handle sticking out of the cat’s ear. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Hey, the long orange tongue
is retracting. Keep turning it, Ben.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">When the crank became harder
to turn, the boys drew nearer to get a better look. Suddenly there was a loud
pop and water blasted outwards, drenching both of them. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“What the….?” they sputtered,
wiping the water from their faces. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Looking down at the front of
his jacket, Jeffrey exclaimed, “We’re soaking wet!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Figured that out all by
yourself, eh Einstein?” Ben sneered. “I’m outta here man. I just wanna go
home.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Shouldn’t we warn the
other?” Jeffrey asked, glancing back the way they’d come. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Na, we found out the hard
way so let them do the same.” Ben answered over his shoulder as he trudged
away.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">TJ and Micah waited until the
path was clear and then re-set the trap. TJ grabbed up the paper bag and
followed Micah back to their hiding place.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Five minutes later, two more
teenage boys appeared only to take off in the same condition as their friends
had several minutes earlier.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">TJ checked out the bag he was
holding. “There are two dozen eggs in this bag. Better here than smashed on the
fount of our house. Looks like we outwitted the vandals this year. I think we
can consider this a successful night’s work,” he declared as he slapped his
friend on the back.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“I agree. And I think it
calls for a high-five, don’t you?” Please when his hint was acted upon, Micah
merrily suggested, “Let’s head for home.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Meanwhile, Jeremiah was
relaxing in front of the fire in one of two high-backed leather chairs with a
snifter of brandy in his hand. There was a whiff of cigar smoke permeating the
study. It was definitely a man’s room. A large mahogany desk was the focal
point, ceiling to floor shelves lined the wall behind it, and French doors that
by day looked out over an expanse of leaf-covered lawn that blended into the
forest beyond. At the moment, only a reflection of the room appeared in the
glass.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Well that’s done for this
year,” Glen stated as he walked in from the hall. “I’ve shelled out to the last
of our little trick-or-treaters and turned off the porch light.” He took his
seat across from Jeremiah and picked up his brandy. “Now we just have to wait
for our partners to come home.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“I am trying to decide if I
should be looking forward to Micah’s return with eagerness or dread,” Jeremiah
commented somewhat ominously. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Why’s that?” Glen smiled
knowingly and studied the other man over the top of his glass. He no longer saw
Jeremiah as a ghost, finally being able to see and accept the man as he once
was and currently is. Jeremiah was now his friend and fellow-Top.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“I can help wondering what
kind of mischief my boy is up to this year.” Jeremiah snubbed out the butt of
his cigar in the ashtray next to his chair.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“I think we’re about to find
out,” Glen declared at the sound of the back door slamming shut. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Moments later, two Brats
energetically entered the room and all but launched themselves at their
respective Tops.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“You smell of the fresh
autumn night, my love,” Glen murmured as he buried his face into TJ’s jacket.
“With a touch of damp soil and decaying leaves.” His eyes twinkled when he
smirked teasingly at the man on his lap. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“You would too if you’d spent
most the evening hiding out in the undergrowth beside the path.” TJ struggled
out of his jacket and dropped it on the floor. He glanced pointedly at Glen
drink and was pleased when it was passed to him. “Mmm, that’s the best way to
warm up one’s insides. Thanks, sweetheart.” TJ expressed his gratitude after
draining the glass. He snuggled down in an attempt to get warmer on the
outside.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Micah was already buried in
is lover’s arms. He groaned inwardly when he heard a question he rather
preferred remained unasked. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“So just what did you do for
excitement tonight, Micah? Why would it involve being hidden? Were you scaring
people again?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“I’m also interested in
hearing about your adventures,” Glen informed his partner. “Maybe it will help
clarify parts of the disjointed, somewhat one-sided conversation I had with Mr.
Bennett’s grandchildren. They babbled on about green and orange florescent cobwebs
hanging in trees, glowing pumpkins winking at them and a giant black cat they
weren’t allowed to pet. Do you know anything about that, TJ?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">TJ breathed out a deep sigh
and glared at Micah. He knew beyond a doubt that his co-troublemaker had no
intention of speaking up. Somehow TJ had let himself be coerced into being the
one to tell all. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Mustering as much courage as
he could, TJ own up. “We decided that this was the year we’d get even with the
rotten kids who egg our house every Halloween.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Realizing he was not going to
be interrupted, TJ continued, slowly but steadily confessing all he and Micah
had done in order to get their revenge. “We even brought home the eggs they
were planning to throw.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Glen and Jeremiah stared in
what would prove to be feigned astonishment at first their own partner, then
the other’s partner and finally at each other. They appeared to be silently
daring one another to speak first. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Well,” said Glen, “it
certainly looks as if you’ve accomplished your goal as no one has pelted the
house this evening.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Anxious to find out just how
much trouble they were in, Micah quietly stated, “We didn’t actually frighten
anyone. We just soaked them.” He waited nervously to see what Jeremiah had to
say.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“One can’t very well
criticize success, can one?” Jeremiah mused. He was still mulling over the
story told to them. “I can’t think of any rules that have been broken.” He
glanced at Glen for support.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“That’s true,” Glen seriously
concurred. “Who would have thought it was necessary to forbid them to drench
anyone in such a manner.” He merely shrugged his shoulders and returned
Jeremiah’s wink. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">The older men’s unexpected
bursts of laughter clearly indicated that neither of the younger men were in
trouble. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Glen eventually stopped laughing
and wiped his eyes. “You boys do realize there’s a chance that next year may
bring a payback even more ruthless than egg-throwing, right?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Jeremiah rolled his eyes at
his Brat’s open-mouthed expression of disbelief. “There’s almost always some
form of reprisal to be expected, Micah. Just be forewarned.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Oh, we’ll be ready for
them,” Micah confidently assured them, “No matter what they do to us, we’ll be
able to come back with something far worse, right TJ?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">At their partners’ puzzled
demeanor, TJ went on to explain. “Micah showed me some stories he’s been
reading on the internet about taffy-covered onions.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Don’t you dare!” roared two
suddenly angered Tops. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">The End<o:p></o:p></span></div>
LJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09209660278651151524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5268036008101192934.post-6967526218642846672014-07-08T04:02:00.004-07:002015-12-24T07:43:08.804-08:00Say What?<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12.0pt;">This is in
response to the ‘Zombie’ Challenge. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“What are you doing
out here?” Jeremiah demanded in a voice made all the more dangerous due to its’
low pitch. “It’s two o’clock in the morning.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“I’m on guard duty,”
Micah explained, looking up from his place on the floor next to Glen and TJ’s
bedroom door.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Whatever for?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“TJ says it’s just
a precautionary measure.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Exactly what are
you guarding him against?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Zombies,” Micah
loudly whispered and grinned at the irate man in front of him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Jeremiah’s chin
dropped as he bowed his head, closed his eyes and silently prayed for patience.
He reached down, wrapped a hand tightly around his Brat’s bicep, hauled him up
off the floor and firmly steered him into their room.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“I take it he’s
been watching that dreadful TV show again,” the older man muttered. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12.0pt;">A hard slap on
Micah’s butt had him scrambling across to his side of the bed and quickly
getting under the covers. “TJ’s said he doesn’t believe zombies really exist,
but then he didn’t believe ghost did either.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12.0pt;">He waited for
Jeremiah to get into bed and snuggled up against the bigger man. “Guess he didn’t
want to take any chances.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Jeremiah sighed
out his frustration. “And he thought should one suddenly appear you’d be able
to handle him, right?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Well, everyone
knows zombies are afraid of ghost!” Micah staunchly declared. Seeing Jeremiah’s
raised eyebrow, he rethought that idea. “At least, that’s what TJ told me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Of course it is,”
Jeremiah groaned. He landed a second swat on Micah’s butt. “Go to sleep!” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12.0pt;">The End.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
LJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09209660278651151524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5268036008101192934.post-61370981367504435692014-05-20T09:21:00.003-07:002014-05-20T09:21:31.706-07:00How Many?<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12.0pt;">This was written
in response to a group’s ‘Swat’ Challenge.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Micah swiftly drew
his upper body back through the closed bedroom door. He rubbed at Jeremiah’s
handprint that was stinging his left flank and glared at the older man.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“It really jars
when you do that while I’m half in the room and half out, you know!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“It was a warning
to mind your own business. Stop trying to spy on our friends. They can’t see
you, but I can.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“I just wanted to
make sure TJ was all right.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“He’s in perfectly
capable hands.” Jeremiah watched as Micah glanced uncertainly between him and
the closed door. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“I bet Glen found
out about the unpaid speeding tickets,” Micah murmured. He was torn between
satisfying his curiosity and obeying his partner. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Seeing the
indecision, Jeremiah took hold of his Brat’s arm and led him over to the bed.
Sitting down, he pulled him face down cross his lap and lifted his nightshirt.
“Hmm, let’s perform an experiment.” He drummed his fingers on Micah’s bare bottom.
“It might help you resist the temptation to stick your nose where it doesn’t
belong. We can refer to it as ‘Preventative Swats’. Maybe we’ll be able to
determine how many will have to be applied in order to distract you from what
is taking place that doesn’t concern you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Micah threw his
hand back in an attempt to protect his vulnerable backside from the pummeling
he felt sure was coming his way. “None!” he hollered. “It will take none. I’m
okay now. Honest! The temptation’s gone.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Jeremiah smiled at
the squirming and pleading. He tightened his grip to prevent Micah from ending
up on the floor. “Well, as long as you’re in no doubt…..” He paused for a few
moments and pretended to be contemplating their situation. Decided he had
tormented the younger man long enough, he allowed him to escape.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Hastily adjusting
his clothing, Micah stared in disbelief. Seeing the raised eyebrow deterred him
from questioning his partner’s action in setting him free. After all, why push
his luck? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Ah, I think I’m
ready for bed now.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Yes, as TJ would
say, ‘good plan’.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12.0pt;">The End<o:p></o:p></span></div>
LJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09209660278651151524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5268036008101192934.post-46061697126485962982012-12-01T11:48:00.001-08:002012-12-03T16:00:42.429-08:00Reassurances<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">This is in
response to WL’s Christmas Challenge issued by PJ, and was requested by Dizzy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">Jeremiah glanced
up from his reading as the door softly closed behind his partner. Micah’s
expression was one of sadness and it was obvious he was searching for comfort.
The older man put down his book and opened his arms invitingly. He grunted when
Micah landed with some force on his lap.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“Have you and TJ
finished baking cookies?” Getting a grumble response that he took to be in the
affirmative, Jeremiah continued what seemed to be a rather one-sided discussion.
“Do not tell me you’ve actually eaten enough cookie dough to give yourself a
stomachache.” A head shaking against his shoulder let the ex-captain know his
partner wasn’t physically ill. “Can you give me a hint as to what is bothering
you, please?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“I don’t want to
be on the naughty list,” Micah mumbled and tried to hide his face against
Jeremiah’s chest.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“All right,”
Jeremiah was bewildered and definitely caught off-guard. “I am going to need a
little more information if I am to participate in this conversation, Micah.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“TJ and I were
listening to Christmas songs. One kind of worried me some.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“I assume this was
a song well-loved by millions around the world that you took offence to?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“It just made me
sad. You see, Santa keeps a list of naughty and nice folks. I really prefer to
be on the nice one.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“What makes you
think you are not?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“I’ve been a bit
of a bother this past year.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“I agree there
have been a few incidents, but we took care of them in our usual fashion, love.
And we do not keep a tally.” <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“It works that way
for us, Jeremiah. But Santa may think differently.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;"></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">To Jeremiah’s
mind, this tête-à-tête was bordering on ridiculous. It was a subject matter
that would never have come up if Micah wasn’t so overtired. Jeremiah knew his
Brat had a tendency to stay visible a lot longer than usual during the festive
season. Doing so was rather draining on them, and was why the ex-captain tried
to encourage Micah to better pace himself. </span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;"></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">The older man planned to start correcting
the problem this very day. In the meantime, he’d do whatever it took to soothe
his Brat.</span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span> </div>
</span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“Santa may have a
special empathy for Brats. He could possibly identify with them.”<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“Why would you say
that?” Micah looked up expectantly. He slid himself off his partner and nestled
in beside him on the big recliner. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“I read somewhere
that Kris Kringle is a Brat. Of course it may have just been someone’s
tongue-in-cheek bit of fun to entertain his friends.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“Hmmm,” Micah took
a few moments to give the idea some serious thought. “It is imaginable at that.
I mean he does live with a large number of elves, and although they’re very
busy most the time I bet there are many occasions for mischief-making. And
Santa is the jolliest old elf there is, right?” Micah’s eyes sparkled at the
thought. “Do you think he has a Top?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">Gazing upward and
rolling his eyes, Jeremiah pretended to groan. “Good heavens, one could only
hope so.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">The older man
found joy in witnessing the rapid change in his lover’s mood. Micah may get
upset easily for the most unpredictable happenings, but he could be quickly
mollified if loving understanding and acceptance were employed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“Are you feeling
better now?” Jeremiah inquired.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“Much,” Micah
responded, wrapping his arms around his Top’s neck and kissing his cheek. “Even
though I know you were undoubtedly pulling my leg, weren’t you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“Perhaps,”
Jeremiah chuckled and gave Micah a hug. He wasn’t about to admit or deny
anything.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">The End</span></div>
LJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09209660278651151524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5268036008101192934.post-42538628210379649102012-11-25T16:26:00.002-08:002012-11-25T16:26:24.191-08:00Micah's Take On An Old Classic
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">This is in
response to The Tea Room’s November challenge on for a ‘Sad Song’ story. I
couldn’t come up with more appropriate lyrics and Dizzy’s wanted a story with
the Ghosts. Hope this satisfies. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“You know this is
kinda a sad song, TJ.” Micah commented as he snatched up another chunk of
cookie dough and popped it into his mouth.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“Are you serious?”
TJ was astonished. “You must be the only person in the world to this that
‘Santa Claus Is Coming To Town’ is a sad song.” TJ shook his head in disbelief
as he pressed the cookie cutter into the dough he’d just rolled out on the
counter. “Maybe it’s because you’re dead?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“It is not!” was
Micah’s adamant retort. “Listen closely and you’ll hear the warnings. Ones, I
might add, that have a threatening ring to them.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“How so?” TJ
stopped what he was doing to pay attention to what his friend was saying.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“Okay, take the
lines referring to not crying or pouting. I’ve cried numerous times over the past
year and I may even have pouted a time or two.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“A time or two is
a bit of an understatement, don’t you think?” TJ teased.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Hey, you pout more than I do,” Micah stanchly
reminded the other man. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“Yeah, I guess I
do at that,” TJ honestly admitted. He carefully lifted a gingerbread man and
slid it off the spatula on to the cookie sheet. “What else do you find sad?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“I wanna know
what’s with this list thing and him knowing if we’ve been good or bad. Hell,
I’m bad more than I’m good, so I guess Santa is a no-show for me this year.”
Micah’s shoulders slumped. He put his elbows on the counter and rested his chin
in his hands, looking a little forlorn at the idea.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“I thought you
didn’t believe in him,” TJ pointed out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“That was until he
appeared last year and paid us a visit.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“Hmm, yeah
well….I’m kinda inclined to go along with Glen’s theory. You know the one where
he insists it was just a bizarre dream.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“You really think
we both had the exact same dream at the same time?” Micah inquired dubiously.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“Hey, you gotta
admit we’d eaten a lot of strange stuff before bedtime on Christmas Eve like
the weird cheeses, meats and spreads that were packed in a couple of those gift
baskets Glen got from some of his clients.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“Yeah, you’re
right. I seem to remember eating a lot of fudge, and then there were all those
smoked oysters.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“God Almighty, we
ate chocolate fudge <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">and</b> oysters?” TJ
was horrified. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“Not together,”
Micah tried to set TJ’s mind at ease. “But at some time during the evening both
items were consumed.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“We’re lucky a
seasonal apparition was all we experienced. I feel nauseous just thinking about
it.” TJ grimaced and went back to concentrating on the job at hand. “I do
believe I’ll request that Glen pay more attention to what I’m eating this year in
order to avoid a repeat dietary fiasco.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“Good plan,” Micah
offered his support of the idea. “But I still consider this a sad song even if
I am alone in that belief.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“Tell you what; as
soon as we finish up here, we’re gonna watch the movie ‘Elf’,” TJ suggested as
he placed two laden cookie sheets into the oven and set the timer. “Then you’ll
see the magic that song can produce.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“Okay, but while
we’re waiting can I lick the bowl?” Micah asked hopefully.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“It’s raw cookie
dough, Micah.” Seeing the expression on his friend’s face, TJ shook his head
and relented. “What the hell; help yourself.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">Micah’s eyes
sparkled as he greedily reached out for the large bowl.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">The End</span></div>
LJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09209660278651151524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5268036008101192934.post-51100636294221029562012-11-25T16:16:00.002-08:002012-11-25T16:16:49.071-08:00It Doesn’t Work For Everyone
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">This is in
response to PJ’s Challenge on WL.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">Micah kicked at
the wall and groaned in frustration when his foot went through it. He stomped
instead and felt a slight lessening of the tension he was experiencing. That is
until a growled warning was heard from behind him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“This is all
Glen’s fault!” he bitterly complained, barely managing to prevent himself from
stomping again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“Really?” Jeremiah
questioned incredulously. “And exactly what was Glen’s part in lobbing pumpkins
into the street?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“Jack-o-lanterns,”
Micah muttered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“Pardon-me?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“They were
jack-o-lanterns,” Micah explained. “And they were all shriveled up and turning
black.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“Again I ask, what
was Glen’s part in this? Precisely what are you holding him accountable for?”
Jeremiah sat back and took another sip of his brandy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“It’s because of
him that I’m standing here. You never put me in a corner until you saw him
doing it with TJ.” Micah voice raised an octave.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">The older man
frowned. Micah was right. Jeremiah had seen for himself that what Glen referred
to as a time-out seemed to settle TJ and help him think through whatever issue
was at hand. However, it did not appear to be working for Micah.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">Jeremiah realized
his Brat was actually becoming more agitated by the minute. In fact, it was
getting to the point where Micah was stressing out. He sighed and got to his
feet. “Micah, my love, come here please,” he softly requested and held out his
arms.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">Micah turned and
made a beeline for comfort he knew awaited him in his lover’s embrace. He
compliantly went along with Jeremiah steering them over to the leather recliner
that sat in the far corner of the study and sat down with him to cuddle. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“I’m just not good
at staying still, Jer,” Micah murmured into the older man’s chest.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“I don’t know
about that, love. You spent many a quite hour reading in my cabin while I took
care of the paperwork.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“That was
different. I liked being near you no matter what you were doing. I just like
you close by, I guess.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“I was close by
here, Micah.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“Yes, but I was in
trouble and supposed to be thinking. So it wasn’t the same at all.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“Do you understand
why throwing something in front of a passing car is dangerous?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“I meant to toss
it between the wheels so it would get squashed. It really makes a funny sound,
Jer.” Micah glanced up, his eyes sparkling. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“And a bloody
mess, which I believe you find a lot more entertaining.” Micah’s blush was
enough to let Jeremiah know he’d deduced correctly. The older man sighed in
loving exasperation. “Micah, these drivers can’t see you. An object suddenly
appearing out of nowhere and crossing their path can lead to a serious
accident. You wouldn’t want that on your conscious now, would you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“No,” Micah
reluctantly agreed, and was consoled by the tightening of Jeremiah’s arms even
as the man brought up another method for addressing the problem facing them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“I’m of the mind
that testing this approach for helping you think has proven a total failure.
Therefore, we’ll have to go back to the tried and true method of writing lines
to assist your thought process.” Jeremiah couldn’t help but chuckle when Micah
groaned. He was fully aware of the younger man’s aversion to that particular
activity. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">Micah’s penmanship
was something anyone could be proud of; concise, evenly spaced script that was
a joy to read. Unfortunately, it was more often than not rather time consuming.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“Come on, Micah.
Up you get and we’ll settle you at Glen’s desk, during which time I’ll read
while you do paperwork.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">The glare Jeremiah
received in response to his statement clearly showed Micah’s thoughts on his
Top’s idea of teasing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">Micah looked over
Jeremiah’s shoulder while the older man wrote out the sentence to be copied
twenty-five times.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">‘Vegetables are
not meant to be thrown on public roads.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“Hmm, vegetables,
huh?” Micah grinned impishly as a naughty thought entered his head.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“Let me clarify
it,” Jeremiah sternly suggested and he drew a line through the words he’d just
written. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">‘It is absolutely
forbidden to throw objects of any sort into the path of oncoming vehicles, or
in any public place.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">Micah did a rapid
word count. “Hey, you more than double the amount,” he loudly protested before
realizing something of even more importance. “And forbidden means it’s become a
new rule, doesn’t it?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“That’s right,”
Jeremiah confirmed. “Now get busy,” he firmly ordered as he made himself
comfortable in the recliner and picked up a book. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">Micah threw himself
back in the chair and glared at the paper in front of him on the desk. His
bottom clenched, knowing it would be made to answer for the breaking of the rule.
With slumping shoulders and a deep sigh, Micah picked up the pen and began
writing. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">The End</span></div>
LJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09209660278651151524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5268036008101192934.post-5122809746425274752012-09-23T21:47:00.003-07:002012-09-24T02:35:06.947-07:00Lights Of Courtship<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4u0qtSyOO9KJ34y6vlZmirY0seNcBWb7rDkFlrmYQUaWT1Btbri93y71Erdc7xp2JFSZ-HnaR-oAn_c7B_dZEH2IYwc-T1q1TRpr1kg3j_GPuf4Pp6kKZQVw4wvHDFPTEgy_junGoRQ0/s1600/fireflies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4u0qtSyOO9KJ34y6vlZmirY0seNcBWb7rDkFlrmYQUaWT1Btbri93y71Erdc7xp2JFSZ-HnaR-oAn_c7B_dZEH2IYwc-T1q1TRpr1kg3j_GPuf4Pp6kKZQVw4wvHDFPTEgy_junGoRQ0/s320/fireflies.jpg" width="222" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
In response to the Tea Room’s September Challenge.</div>
<br />
<br />
Jeremiah smiled, wishing he’d learn long ago of this simple trick to keep his Brat quiet. Too bad it would be for such a short time.<br />
<br />
Micah had his nose almost touching the side of a glass container, completely mesmerized by the flickering lights from inside it.<br />
<br />
“Push it back from your face, Micah. You’ll still be able to see them with the jar a few inches away.”<br />
<br />
“They’re beginning to fade.” Micah was crestfallen.<br />
<br />
“It’s time to set them free, my love.” Jeremiah felt a touch of sadness as the fireflies flew off into the stillness of the night.<br />
<br />
The End <br />
<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOdzwJ_POl-fwAyI1yPSFFUoZoTQs9rKnTXnmqBweGwerSynmsac7aHX0NEaKb6EgQUari_ql94VpvUTu1xjvveMg_P-PHD2fD9VDdVcY2FbhK5XRh_i5UZxg0xCg4zIOwoChFJ67kvRQ/s1600/Fireflies+gone.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOdzwJ_POl-fwAyI1yPSFFUoZoTQs9rKnTXnmqBweGwerSynmsac7aHX0NEaKb6EgQUari_ql94VpvUTu1xjvveMg_P-PHD2fD9VDdVcY2FbhK5XRh_i5UZxg0xCg4zIOwoChFJ67kvRQ/s320/Fireflies+gone.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br />
Note: A firefly is a winged nocturnal beetle that, during courtship, produces an intermittent light from luminescent chemicals in its’ abdominal organs.LJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09209660278651151524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5268036008101192934.post-6761015368720233992012-09-17T16:46:00.001-07:002012-09-17T16:46:21.560-07:00Are You Hushing Me?
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">Written By: LJ<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">This was also in
response to WL’s ‘Hush’ Challenge<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“What are you up
to, Micah?” Jeremiah boomed from across the room. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“HUSH!” Micah held
a finger up to his lips.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“How dare you ‘hush’
me!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“I don’t want you
waking the baby.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“Where did he come
from?” Jeremiah stared down at the sleeping infant in the bassinette.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“It’s a ‘she’.
Glen’s caring for her.” Micah reached out the touch the soft curls on the
baby’s head, but Jeremiah’s hand came out to stop him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“I just want to
touch her,” he indignantly cried out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“Hush; you’ll wake
her,” Jeremiah chuckled at the affronted expression marring the younger ghost’s
countenance. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">The End<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
LJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09209660278651151524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5268036008101192934.post-87579078344617296602012-09-17T16:42:00.004-07:002012-09-17T16:42:55.622-07:00Hushing An Aching Heart
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">Written By: LJ<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">This
is in response to WL’s ‘Hush’ Challenge<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">“Sssh,
Micah. There is no need to carry on like this,” Jeremiah gently insisted,
rocking his sobbing Brat.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">“But
he’s gone, Jeremiah! And at such a tender age.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">“Two
weeks is very young, that’s true.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">“I
was just getting to know him.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">“I
know you were.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">“And
he’s the first pet I’ve had since before we died.” Micah wiped wet cheeks on
his lover’s shirt.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">“I’m
aware of that.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">“He
doesn’t even have the capacity to come back as a ghost like we have,” Micah
hiccupped.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">“That
is very unlikely,” Jeremiah sadly agreed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">“I’m
really gonna miss him, Jeremiah.” Micah glanced at the empty bowl and started
to weep again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">Jeremiah
gave out a long-suffering sigh. “Glen is going into town this afternoon on
business,” he patiently declared while handing Micah a clean
handkerchief. “If it will ease your sorrow, I’ll ask him to buy you a new goldfish.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">“Promise?”
Micah spirits were already beginning to lift.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">“Yes,
so hush now and dry your eyes.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">The
End<o:p></o:p></span></div>
LJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09209660278651151524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5268036008101192934.post-8836962553163478452012-07-29T03:08:00.000-07:002012-07-29T03:08:05.253-07:00Nocturnal Prowling<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">Written By: LJ</span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">In response to a challenged issued on WL for nighttime talks and as per Dizzy's request. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">Jeremiah lifted
the eiderdown and glared at the man wriggling about at the foot of their bed.
“What the hell are you doing, Micah?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“You said your
feet were cold and I’m about to take advantage of your discomfort.” Micah let
out a long sigh as he settled down, having found the respite he sought.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As hoped for, his partner’s extremities began
to cool the inferno still raging in his thoroughly spanked bottom. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">Jeremiah smiled
and dropped the quilt back in place. “Hmm,” he contentedly murmured. “I’ll have
to remember this as it’s much handier than a hot water bottle.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">The End<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>LJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09209660278651151524noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5268036008101192934.post-16836461020393048992012-05-25T06:48:00.001-07:002012-05-25T06:48:18.817-07:00Signals<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">(This continues on
from ‘Obey Me’.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">Jeremiah gazed up
at his Brat, who moments ago appeared at the foot of their bed. He accepted the
piece of paper tossed to him and quickly read it over.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“This is what
caught your attention and led to your earlier punishment?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">Micah grimaced as
his hands gently cupped his backside to check for any remaining tenderness and
nodded.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“Was TJ able to
cancel the order?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“Yeah, and he’s
changed his passwords so now I won’t even be able to access the Internet at
all.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“Did you really
feel either of us would benefit from this purchase?” Jeremiah glanced again at
the note in his hand.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">Micah shrugged his
shoulders as a noticeable blush spread across his cheeks. “Hmm, maybe? After
all, over a dozen of these messages show up under SPAM every single day, so the
stuff must work.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“Spam?” Jeremiah’s
eyebrow rose.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“It’s global
networking junk mail,” Micah briefly explained. “It kind of caught my eye. I only
wanted to give it a try to see if it really would work,” he murmured in a
slightly woeful tone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">Jeremiah smiled
seductively and crooked his finger. “I am more than satisfied with the way we
are, but you obviously require a demonstration to prove once and for all just
how much neither of us has any need of such augmentation.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">Micah’s eyes lit
up and he eagerly accepted the invitation. He leaped onto the bed as the sheet
of paper floated to the floor, its’ large black letters clearly visible. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">MALE ENHANCEMENT<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">This is the most effective and safest way to enlarge
your manhood. Get incredible gains even while you sleep!<br />
</span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">Gains of 3-4 inches are not uncommon. Try for yourself. Risk Free, 100%
guaranteed to work.<br />
<br />
CLICK BELOW NOW TO GET THE SIZE YOU AND YOUR PARTNER WILL BE VERY SATISFIED
WITH.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></b><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">The End<o:p></o:p></span></div>LJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09209660278651151524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5268036008101192934.post-21114847369747919512012-05-20T06:22:00.002-07:002012-05-20T06:26:30.270-07:00Obey Me<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">This Drabble is in response to a Challenge issued on the WL Group.</span><br />
<br />
********************************<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Micah nestled into Jeremiah’s shoulder and sniffled.
His eyes were itchy, his nose stuffed up and a fire still raged in his hindquarters.
His curiosity had gotten the best of him again.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">He gradually calmed to the comforting declarations of forgiveness
being murmured into his hair and the warm hand gently rubbing his back. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">“What were you expected to do, my love?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">“Listen?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">“Obey me,” was the softly, yet firmly spoken
clarification. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Regardless of the circumstances, those words always
gave rise to an array of sensations; but thus far, had never failed to impart an
abundance of love and caring. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">The End<o:p></o:p></span></div>LJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09209660278651151524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5268036008101192934.post-70529369309605537572011-12-01T07:27:00.000-08:002011-12-01T07:47:38.666-08:00See, He Is Real<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT-dHIENy8VwHrZISx1r-qRcx9C6sa0YwGQFIkV-Vnou51ifhVzywvpvz0jjJXVSSrvX3F4RPIyCB63veLVP2Fjap0QmsVNhhrU3wvyPF0bhcL-VFZY6VKdub-omigIx5zBF_n4sPXdLs/s1600/Santa+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT-dHIENy8VwHrZISx1r-qRcx9C6sa0YwGQFIkV-Vnou51ifhVzywvpvz0jjJXVSSrvX3F4RPIyCB63veLVP2Fjap0QmsVNhhrU3wvyPF0bhcL-VFZY6VKdub-omigIx5zBF_n4sPXdLs/s200/Santa+1.jpg" width="140" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Co-written by Dizzy, PJ and Lady Jodie </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">With Glen and TJ, and a Special Someone<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Thank you, Dee, for editing this for us.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">TJ opened his eyes and rubbed the sleep from them. Turning on his side, he checked the LED numbers on the clock radio and groaned when he saw it was only three a.m. A noise from downstairs had him sitting up and listening for it to be repeated. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">“Nuts!” he muttered, throwing off the blankets and getting out of his warm bed. “Micah better not be trying to find out what’s in his present.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Stealthily making his way down the stairs and along the lower hall, TJ almost tripped over someone kneeling near the entrance to the living room. “What the hell are you doing, Micah?” he hissed and was almost toppled over by a hand reaching out and yanking on his arm.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">“Be quiet! If he hears us, he’ll put us on the ‘naughty’ list,” Micah whispered as loudly as he dared. Seeing an expression of complete bewilderment on his friend’s face, he pointed and ordered, “Look!”<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">TJ squinted to see through the faint glow being cast by the moon shining in the picture window. His eyes widened and his jaw dropped when he saw who Micah had been spying on. “Shit! Who’d have thought!” he hoarsely uttered in shock as the Christmas tree lights suddenly came on.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Micah pulled his friend back from the encroaching circle of light. A big man had his back to them and they watched enthralled as he circled the tree adding presents to those that were already there, before turning towards the fireplace. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Neither Micah nor TJ thought to wonder where the stockings had come from that the man was now filling with an array of surprises.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">TJ did a quick mental check list, holding up a finger for each identifying symbol. ‘Chubby, round and jolly looking, check! Red suit covered in soot, a long white beard, black boots and belt, check! Big bag of toys, check! Pipe with smoke encircling his head, check!’ He turned to Micah with a look of astonishment. “He’s real! He’s really real!” <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">“Yes, he’s really real!” Micah muttered. “And he’s going to put both of us on the naughty list if we don’t shush up.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">TJ saw Micah’s hand come up to cover his mouth and he shivered as the ghost’s hand went right through his head.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">“Sorry, I can’t always touch when I’m excited or nervous,” Micah explained. “But please, be quiet. I really don’t want Santa to know we’re awake.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">“You really believe there’s a naughty list?” TJ taunted. “And you think he knows if we’ve been good or not?”<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">“Yes, I know there is a list,” Micah responded in a low voice. “I was on it once a long time ago.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">“Why were you on the list?” TJ practically begged now that his curiosity was getting the best of him. “What did you do?”<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">“It was just before I met Jeremiah,” Micah started. “You may not believe this but I kind of had to make a break for it at one time in my life.” <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">“Okay, but what exactly did you do to get on the list?”<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">The young men had become too engrossed in their conversation to notice that Santa had come to the entryway and was standing over them. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Micah glanced up and promptly vanished, leaving TJ to face the music himself. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">TJ fell back on his butt and gaped up at the big man. Licking his lips, he stammered, “Uh, hi Santa. You‘re real.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">“Micah, come back here right now!” Santa demanded.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">“No, you’ll put me back on the naughty list again,” Micah cried as he sat down next to his friend.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">“I won’t put either of you on the naughty list, but I might just let your Tops know that you are awake,” the big man in a red suit said.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">TJ could only stare in fascination while Micah reappeared and went on to plead with the man. “Santa, please, don’t wake Jeremiah! You know how grumpy he gets.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">“Yes, I do and so should you.” Briefly studying one of the men sitting on the floor, Santa ordered, “TJ, breathe!”<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">TJ drew in a huge gulping breath at the man’s urging. “You’re real!” he croaked out once more, his shock still very evident.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">“Yes. I‘m as real as you need me to be.” Santa reached down, holding out a hand to each man. “Come on, boys. Let’s talk about this in the kitchen. We don‘t want to wake up your Tops.” He effortlessly hauled them to their feet. “TJ, breathe,” he instructed yet again as he lead the way into the kitchen. “How about some cookies and milk? Maybe Micah can regale us with the tale of how he got on my naughty list.” <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">TJ poured milk into three glasses while Micah fetched the tin of cookies they baked just that afternoon. Then they sat down at the kitchen table with their guest.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Micah beamed with pride to see Santa eating the cookies he’d helped make. Much to his delight, he’d been allowed to use the hand-held mixer. He’d almost burnt his nose on the little window on the front of the oven door when he’d leaned in too close to watch the cookies rising and turning brown. He hoped and prayed he’d removed all the egg shells that he’d accidently dropped into the batter. He knew he’d just die of embarrassment if Santa was to crunch into one of them. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">“So, Micah, how did you get on the wrong list?” TJ inquired, biting the head off the gingerbread man in his hand. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">“For running away from home, getting caught stowing away on a ship and lying; all minor reasons when you stop to think about it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">“Hrmph,” Santa cleared his throat and rolled his eyes. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">“That proved to be the worst Christmas I ever had,” Micah pouted.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">“How so?” TJ wanted to know.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">“It was at the end of my first voyage as cabin boy. We arrived in America the second week of December and collected our wages. It was the clipper’s last cross-Atlantic trip and she was being traded in for a steamship which wasn’t set to sail until the New Year. I spent the next month, including the holidays, walking the streets or moping around in a dismal little room I’d rented not too far from the docks.” Micah grimaced as memories returned to haunt him.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Even knowing this would be a great Christmas for their ghostly housemates, TJ couldn’t help but be saddened by his friend’s story about the one that took place so long ago.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Fortunately, Micah’s mood brightened as an idea entered his head. “Hey, Santa, can we go for a ride in your sleigh?”<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">“That won’t be possible, Micah,” Santa responded with a shake of his head. “There just isn’t enough time. Besides, you’d have to sign waivers and I don’t have any forms with me.” With that, the big man got to his feet. “Thanks for the treats, boys. Now I have to be on my way and you two better get back to bed before your Tops come looking for you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Micah and TJ followed their special guest back to the living room. Good byes were exchanged and two young men stood back with mouths opened wide, staring in awe as Santa disappeared up the chimney.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">They ran up the stairs to the sound of reindeer prancing in anticipation on the roof above their heads.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">“They’re gone!” Micah and TJ exclaimed in dismay. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">“What’s gone?” asked Glen, coming into the living room behind them. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">“The stockings!” TJ shouted, pointing towards the mantle. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">“And the extra gifts!” Micah cried, getting down on his hands and knees to search under the tree.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">“What stockings?” Glen asked, somewhat baffled by the younger men’s behaviour.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">“What extra gifts?” Jeremiah was equally perplexed.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">“The ones Santa filled,” TJ answered the first question, disappointment written across his face. Seeing his partner’s</span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"> look of confusion, he adamantly declared, “Glen, he’s really real. Santa is real.”</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">“He was here last night,” Micah thought to explain. “We both saw him. In fact, we even visited with him for a short time during the wee hours of the morning while you two guys were sleeping.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">“I think your imagination was getting the better of you, my lad” Jeremiah stated as he settled himself into the large armchair next to the fire that Glen was lighting.</span><span style="color: #bf005f;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“It was likely a</span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">ll that cookie dough you ate when you thought I wasn’t watching that caused you to dream.”</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">“Both of us? The same dream at the same time?” TJ shook his head in disbelief.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">“Not to mention being able to remember it all,” Micah pointed out.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">“Proof you’ve watched too many holiday movies over the past couple of weeks,” Glen offered by way of an explanation, already assuming it wouldn‘t fly.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">“Yeah, right!” TJ scoffed.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">“What brought them about is a moot point, love,” Jeremiah kindly commented in light of his Brat’s palpable disillusionment. “The truth remains: there are no stockings and no extra gifts. Therefore, you must have dreamt it all.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">“Have no fear. We’re still in for a grand Christmas. There’s more than enough for all of us.” Glen smiled and shook his head at Jeremiah when to their mild exasperation both Micah and TJ grudgingly attempted to accept the obvious but didn’t quite manage to do so.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">“But he’s still real!” the young men chorused after silently eyeballing at each other for a moment and determining they were fully prepared to debate the issue. Fortuitously or not, depending on what one’s view of the situation might be, there were no takers.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">The End</span></div>LJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09209660278651151524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5268036008101192934.post-61831951381604253972011-11-17T18:47:00.000-08:002011-12-03T18:26:04.837-08:00Guests, Phantoms and Mayhem<em><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><strong>(Glen and TJ’s housewarming party</strong> </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><strong>from the Ghosts’ POV)<o:p></o:p></strong></span></em><br />
<br />
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">By LJ<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Swat!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“Oww! What was that for?” Micah demanded as he turned to face his attacker, slamming the fridge door in the process. He had the grace to blush when he saw the look on his Top’s face. He shuffled from one foot to the other as he rubbed at the sting Jeremiah’s large hand had left on his backside.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“For catching you in the act of doing something you’ve been told numerous times to stop doing. Last warning, Micah, stay out of that ice box.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“It’s a refrigerator, Jeremiah. Nobody’s used an ice box for decades,” Micah informed his partner as he followed the older man through the kitchen on his way to the stairs. He paused momentarily to see what party preparations were on the go since TJ’s return from town. The fingers gripping his ear provided the incentive to accompany Jeremiah up to their temporary room in the attic.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“I wish you wouldn’t do that,” Micah griped as soon as he was released and able to throw himself down on the makeshift bed. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“It works to get your attention and keeps you focused, my dear.” Jeremiah stretched out beside his Brat and reached for him.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“But I like to see what’s going on.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“You are too nosey for your own good, Brat; always have been. One would think by now, either you’d have learned to leave some things well enough alone or I’d have given up trying to keep you in line.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“You wouldn’t really give up on me, would you, Jeremiah?” Micah twisted his head to gaze up at the other man.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“I guess if I haven’t done so in almost a hundred and twenty years, the likelihood of me doing so now are relatively slim.” Jeremiah smiled down at his love and dropped a kiss on his forehead. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“You had to leave me once, but that was eons ago and wasn’t your fault.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“I didn’t totally desert you, love. I merely existed in another nearby cosmos.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“In my loneliest moment I’d sense your presence. It just wasn’t enough to keep me going on without you physically by my side,” Micah murmured, sadly recalling a by-gone time when he felt empty and forsaken.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“Which is why you didn’t take care of yourself; stubbornly allowing your health to deteriorate until you had followed me to the grave.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“But you forgave me,” Micah reminded his lover, “and welcomed me with opened arms.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“Yes, and I’ve never let go again.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“I truly believe we made the right choice when we decided to stay in the home we built together, Jer. I can go into the eternities sharing it with others. Okay, I admit some are easier to reside with than others and these two guys sure liven up the old homestead. Don’t you agree?” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“The thing that lightens up the most, due to our enforced living arrangements, is your backside. Your infernal tormenting and interfering, along with those modern contraptions you insist on playing with,” the older man grumbled. Tightening an arm around his companion, he drew Micah closer as if pinning him down would keep him quiet. “We’re going to nap now and I don’t want to hear one word of disagreement from you.” His voice was stern but his facial expression was kind. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“You know, Jer, I’m so glad we moved back into the house with Glen and TJ,” Micah murmured, nestling against the bigger man, “even if we weren’t invited.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“It isn’t like we had a lot of choice, once they tore down the old summer house we were occupying up until a couple of weeks ago. And to think, we had just finished decorating it the way we wanted. Not that I blame them, I guess. It was just an old run-down shed in their eyes and very much in the way. Oh well, such is life I guess…..or in our case, death.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Micah chuckled sleepily. “I’m just looking forward to this long awaited housewarming party.” He yawned and shifted enough to put his head on Jeremiah’s shoulder. “I don’t even mind giving up our bedroom and moving to this dusty garret for the weekend.” With that, he drifted off to sleep.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Jeremiah shook his head and stared upward. “I hope someone up there is around to help me maintain my sanity over the next few days,” he muttered to himself.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Micah jolted upright and wondered what had disturbed his imposed siesta. Then he heard the noise again. He watched to see if it had wakened Jeremiah, but the man merely grunted and rolled over only to fall back into a deeper sleep. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Crawling off the pallet, Micah made his way over to the small window and looked out at the driveway below. It had been car doors slamming that had interrupted his nap. Not that he minded; he hadn’t wanted to rest in the first place. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Creeping as quietly as possible down the attic staircase and the second flight of stairs to the main floor, he tip-toed along the lower hallway. He arrived just in time to see what appeared to be a reunion of sorts. Six men were gathered in the front porch. They were vigorously shaking hands, exchanging hugs and slapping backs. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Micah wondered how they could even hear what each other was saying in the ensuing din. It amounted to all out pandemonium and he wished he could be a part of it. Every so often, he found himself missing this kind of camaraderie. It probably explained his propensity for trying to get involved in their cohabiters’ lives.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">He flattened himself against the wall to allow the group to move into the kitchen where beer and snack foods were readily available. He experienced a stab of jealousy as he watched them laughing and talking, apparently making up for the length of time since last being together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“This is only the beginning, if I understand what TJ has been babbling about for the past month,” he muttered to himself. “There’ll be more folks arriving tomorrow and regardless of what Jeremiah says, I’m not going to miss a moment of it.” His smile was cunning as he rubbed his hands together. His mind went into overdrive as he plotted how much fun was to be had making mischief. He briefly pondered whether or not he should show himself to anyone. So far only TJ had seen him. It would be quite the accomplishment if he could appear to some of the guests. Ultimately more so, if he could frighten them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">He jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. “For shit sake, Jeremiah, are you trying to scare me to death?” he irritably demanded, then hung his head at the hurt expression on his lover’s face. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“I merely sensed your absence, love, and came searching for you.” Jeremiah took in the celebrating group of men and gazed back at Micah, studying his deflated demeanour. His boy wanted desperately to share in such merriment, but was unable to. Although they had each other, life as a ghost undeniably had its’ shortcomings. Being an observer would never be enough for Micah and in moments like this, Jeremiah’s heart ached for him.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“You may continue to observe, Micah, provided you avoid causing havoc. Do you understand me?” Even though the older man deliberately chose to give his partner an opportunity to enjoy the festivities from the sidelines, his tone indicated there’d be no allowances made for disobeying his instructions. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“I’ll be good, Jeremiah!” Micah solemnly promised. His intentions were honourable. Unfortunately his very nature to leap without weighing up the consequences, more often than not lead to tribulation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Jeremiah knew this, but still…..hope does spring eternal, doesn’t it?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Under Jeremiah’s watchful eye, Micah spent the hour or more staying fairly close to the three younger men; the ones he assumed were most like him. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">He tagged along when TJ showed Riley and Darby to their respective rooms and gave them a detailed tour of the homestead. Jeremiah had disappeared shortly before the tour started, so only Micah stood behind the three friends as they stared up at the portraits over the fireplace and two of them first learned of his and Jeremiah’s existence. He chuckled over Darby and Riley’s so very obvious scepticism, vowing once again to show them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Micah was aware of TJ treading on thin ice because he had overheard Glen laying down the law in regards to sharing his belief in ghosts to his friends. He smiled and pretended to tip his hat as he murmured, “Keep it up, mate. Get them worked up for me.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">He sat down in the large armchair and listened as intently as Riley and Darby to the tale of how this house came into being and of the men who built it. He was impressed by all the historical research TJ had done, but disappointed when the narration was interrupted by the older men putting in an appearance. TJ hadn’t had the chance to expound on some of the stunts Micah had pulled on him. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">‘Oh well, there was always tomorrow, right?’ Micah gleefully thought, getting up to locate Jeremiah while three other young men somewhat reluctantly trailed after their partners. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Jeremiah sat back in the large leather chair with his feet on the desk, daydreaming. He had deemed this room his sanctuary shortly after his and Micah’s return to the house. It was so inviting with its’ rich brown shades, the smell of leather, and numerous reminders of his past life strategically placed about the room. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">During their absence, Glen had resurrected the articles Jeremiah had kept from his schooner days. He’d brought them down from the attic and painstakingly restored them to their original beauty, for which Jeremiah would be eternally grateful. His sextant sat on a small table in the center of the room; the brass ship’s bell with lanyard hung on the wall near the door along with a matching barometer; a brass lantern rested on one of the shelves next to a brass chart magnifier; his telescope and its’ stand stood by the window. Gracing a large space above the bookcase facing the desk was an ancient seafaring map, its’ surface worn and edges torn in places. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">The house had been quiet until about half an hour ago when Glen, TJ and their guests has come down for their morning meal. Jeremiah had left Micah soundly sleeping but knew his partner would be getting up shortly. Jeremiah himself had risen early as was his habit and had walked the stiffness out of his injured leg prior to settling in his favourite place to await his partner’s arrival. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">It was at least another hour before he heard a soft tap on the door. Micah never spent time in this room alone and never entered without permission. It was not a directive Jeremiah had given him, but rather a boundary Micah had set up on his own; one that Jeremiah certainly appreciated.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Micah quietly entered and shut the door behind him. He walked over and sat down on Jeremiah’s lap, cuddling against the bigger man’s broad chest. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“Hmm, you smell of fresh air,” Jeremiah softly commented, rubbing his cheek into the wind-blown hair. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“I was at the dock watching the houseguests leaving in the boat.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“Why didn’t you accompany them, my love?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“I only like going out on the water when you’re with me,” Micah murmured. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“So we have the house to ourselves for a short time?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“No. Glen and TJ are upstairs in their room having a discussion. TJ’s in trouble for talking out of turn.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">That bit of information enlightened Jeremiah as to his Brat’s sombre manner. Micah hoped he and TJ would soon develop a friendship and as much trouble as he had caused for TJ in the past, he now empathized with a man he considered a fellow-Brat. “They’ll take care of it, Micah, just as you and I take care of things. All will end well.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Micah pushed himself up and wandered restlessly about the room, stroking his finger-tips lightly across the surfaces of several brass articles. He eventually made his way to the large bow window, where he curled up on the wide padded seat built into its’ recess. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“This has become my favourite room,” he mused, glancing around. Jeremiah immediately saw the statement for what it was; a diversion to hide his anxiety. “It reminds me so much of your Captain’s quarters on that last ship you commanded. Of course, the window in your cabin was smaller than this one and looked out to sea. The bench was similar to this one though and was adequate for me to sleep on during those nights I failed to stay awake long enough to make it to my own room.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“Which, if I remember correctly, was more often than not,” Jeremiah grunted, his smile softening his words.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“The best times were spent there in the evenings, watching you work at your desk by the light of a lantern going over your charts and mapping out the next day’s course.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“You always preferred turbulent seas over calmer ones,” Jeremiah reminded him.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“That’s because I liked the rocking of the ship. It helped me sleep.” Micah grinned unrepentantly as he recalled the number of times his Captain had kindly covered him with the extra quilt from his own bed. “But once I turned eighteen, I didn’t need to be rocked because I was finally sharing your bed. God, I thought I’d never get there.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His grin widened as Jeremiah’s rich laughter filled the room.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">The ex-captain got to his feet and stretched. “Come walk with me, my beloved, and we will continue this grand trip down memory lane outside in the sunshine. You will, in all likelihood, be spending much of the afternoon inside prying into the goings-on of TJ and his friends.” He held out his hand; then tightly gripped the smaller one placed eagerly in it.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Micah stood off to the side, licking his lips as one delicate party snack after another was placed on the trays lined up across the counter. He was kept busy with his attempts to sneak treats without being caught. This meant simultaneously keeping an eagle eye on the food and on the guys engaged in preparing the delicacies. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">He snatched one up and popped it into his mouth, crowing inwardly at having finally succeeded. He lucked out several more times before becoming fully aware of the dialogue taking place and the resulting mirth. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Stopping to listen, he was appalled to discover he was the topic of conversation and the source of three men’s amusement. He was about to show himself and scare them, but thought better of it. “Getting even will come later and be all the sweeter,” he mumbled to himself as he ran from the kitchen to seek refuge in Jeremiah’s arms. His emotions were running rampant; anger, humiliation, pain all vied for top place and all quickly became more than he could handle on his own.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Jeremiah was catnapping, the book he’d been reading lying open beside him. It was Micah’s footsteps on the attic stairs that startled him from his slumber. He sat up just in time to catch the body hurling itself towards him.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Micah was finding it hard to breathe as he fought back the tears. He hated this aspect of himself; this unwanted urge to cry when emotions threatened to overwhelm him. It was unmanly in his eyes, although never in Jeremiah’s.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Aside from a grunt when Micah landed on top of him, Jeremiah refrained from making a sound as he set about soothing his partner. He knew Micah would tell all when he was ready, so the older man waited patiently.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“TJ and I will never be friends!” Micah wailed moments later. “He and his friends were laughing at me!”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“Why would you think that, little one?” Jeremiah’s heart ached for the wretchedness he heard in his beloved’s voice.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“They were talking about some of the things I’ve done and seemed to find my antics, as TJ calls them, absurdly comical.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Jeremiah drew in a deep breath to compose himself. He knew someone had to instil some logic into the discussion, and that it had to be him. “Calm down, love. Stop and think a minute. Did you actually hear the words ‘absurd’ and ‘comical’ used by either TJ or his friends?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Micah lifted his head and bent it to one side as he contemplated the question. “Well, maybe not exactly; but they were still laughing at me,” he insisted. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“If you were listening to a tale about someone doing something you found funny, you’d laugh too, right?” Getting a hesitant nod and seeing a puckered brow, Jeremiah continued. “But you would not be ridiculing the person, merely finding amusement with their deeds and possibly the effects of said deeds.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“I guess that’s true. I just didn’t like it being directed at me,” Micah honestly admitted. He blinked back the unshed tears and gave Jeremiah a watery smile. “Maybe they’ll drink enough tonight to do something that will give me reason to laugh. I can always hope.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“As long as hoping is all you do, my boy.” Jeremiah dropped a light kiss on his partner’s pouty lips and drew back a little to lick his own lips. “Been pinching treats again, haven’t you, Micah?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“Just a couple of tiny bites, Jer. I volunteered my services as official taster to make sure only the best is served at the party.” He smirked when the older man rolled his eyes. “Seriously though, some of them tasted a little off.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“From what I just sampled, some require cooking; especially the ones made with bacon.” Jeremiah chuckled at the grimace of revulsion that crossed the other man’s face. “I think Glen has returned. Are you going back downstairs to satisfy your curiosity as to what is going to happen next? You’re too wound up to nap.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“I’d rather put my excess energy to better use.” Micah wiggled his eyebrows as he hinted to what he had in mind by reaching for Jeremiah’s belt buckle. “After all, we have a couple of hours until the festivities get underway.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“You insatiable man,” Jeremiah muttered, pushing his lover down on the bed and straddling him. They leisurely undressed each other; kissing, licking and nibbling at the areas they knew sexually excited them. Then they made love for the second time that day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">The party was well underway when Jeremiah and Micah strolled down the stairs hand-in-hand. That is Jeremiah leisurely descended while keeping a firm grip on the hand of the man next to him, who was excitedly attempting to skip ahead. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Jeremiah contented himself by calmly watching from the sidelines and keeping an eye on his partner.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Not so with Micah. He wanted to take part but didn’t quite know how without disrupting the festivities by alarming the guests; something Jeremiah had forbade him to do. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">So he quietly mingled, eavesdropping on conversations that interested him and trying to grasp the punch-line of jokes being told, the majority of which escaped him. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Part way through the evening, Jeremiah informed his partner he was going to the study to read and should Micah want to join him at any time, he was more than welcome to do so. A final warning to behave or else, and the older man left the younger one to find his own amusement.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Much later, Micah would have difficulty explaining why he’d done what he had. It seemed like the longer he’d hung around at the fringes of the groups, the stronger his feeling of exclusion became. It was hearing Darby and Riley laughing at something TJ had said that sent him over the edge. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">The hurt and anger he’d felt earlier resurfaced and he impulsively set into motion plans of getting even for imagined affronts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Circling the crowd, he patiently took advantage of each time Darby put his glass down to take part in one of the games going on, to top up his drink. Darby’s growing inattentiveness made it almost ridiculously easy. With Riley it proved a little more challenging. Micah had to keep replacing partially empty beer bottles with full ones. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">It was his turn to laugh as he watched them getting sillier with each addition serving of alcohol. Unfortunately, his delight in getting his revenge was short lived. Darby simply found a comfortable spot to chill out once he found himself getting too light-headed and unsteady on his feet. Riley became confrontational and his interaction with others had to be curtailed by his husband. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Micah sat near a dazed Darby and glared at him. “You’re a bit of a spoil-sport, mate. Not too good at imbibing, are you? On board the clipper, the crew would have teased you mercilessly.” Micah carried on his tirade until he saw Rowan. He got up and followed the couple into the house, passing Jayson and Riley who were engaged in a private tête-à-tête. Riley appeared none too happy about whatever was being said. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Guilt hit Micah with a vengeance when he realized just how far he’d pushed Darby past his drinking limit. He heard his nemesis throwing up and contritely trailed after Rowan assisting the ailing man upstairs. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Desperately wanting to make amends, Micah consciously chose to disobey his partner. He entered a room that was off limits. Although he and Jeremiah deemed it their bedroom, this weekend it belonged to these two guests of Glen and TJ. Above all else, they were entitled to their privacy. This breach of etiquette alone would be considered reprehensible by Jeremiah. The act of revealing himself after being forbidden to do so only increased the gravity of his wrongdoing. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“I’m so sorry, Darby. What I did was appalling and I beg your forgiveness,” Micah entreated from where he was sitting on the end of the bed. His self-reproach eased slightly when Darby appeared not to be holding a grudge. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Next, Micah moved across the hall to the other guest room only to be accosted by a badly spooked Riley. He beat a hasty retreat and went back downstairs to contemplate all he’d done since Jeremiah had left the party.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Sitting on the bottom step and leaning against the banister, had he been seen by anyone they would have felt sorry for the disconsolate individual. He wanted nothing more than to curl up on Jeremiah’s lap and bare his soul. It was the thought of having to bare his backside afterward that caused him to falter. Still, he couldn’t cope with his guilty conscience much longer. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Jeremiah glanced up from his book at the knock on the door. “Come in!” he called, slipping his feet off the desk and straightening in his seat. He frowned when he saw with sadness, the expression of crushing remorse on his Brat’s face. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">He pushed back the chair and opened his arms, closing them only when Micah was safely enclosed within their protective circle. Then he waited in silence until his lover was ready to unburden himself. Only Jeremiah fully comprehended the weight of that burden. For Micah to seek him out knowing there’d be retribution, made the older man’s heart swell with pride. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Slowly, the entire list of offenses was made known. Although not looking forward to the next part of this discussion, Micah couldn’t help but heave a long sigh of relief to have this portion over with.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“I see no need for me to spell out just how inexcusable your behaviour has been this evening, Micah. You appear to have a clear vision of how disgracefully you’ve acted in order to avenge an assumed insult. However, I most certainly want to commend you on apologizing to those for whom you caused trouble and for bravely owning up to all you’ve done. Unfortunately, we are now left with the matter of your punishment. I do not think a hand-spanking is sufficient, judging the magnitude of your disobediences.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Micah hung his head in shame, trying hard not to think of just how much worse things might have turned out. He could barely nod his agreement. Jeremiah rarely used anything other than his hand so it brought home to Micah just how earnest the older man was taking this entire dilemma Micah had instigated.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">At Jeremiah’s insistent nudging, Micah reluctantly got to his feet and obeyed the order to hand his belt over to his chastiser and lower his pants.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">He was promptly bent over the end of the desk and his shirt tail lifted off the intended target. He was comforted by the weight of Jeremiah’s large hand resting warmly on his back. He gritted his teeth to hold back the cries of pain as eight burning strokes of the belt landed on his backside. There had been no warm-up, no warning of how many, how hard or how fast the blows would be delivered. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Although the initial onslaught was quickly over, Micah knew beyond a doubt his throbbing bum would be sore and tender for at least a day or two. Admitting to himself that he’d honestly earned every lick, Micah righted himself and propelled into Jeremiah’s arms. Absolution was unconditional and it provided him with an overpowering sense of liberation. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Several minutes passed with the chastiser being replaced by the comforter, as Jeremiah rocked his suitably punished Brat and whispered a soothing mantra into his hair.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“Jer?” came the muffled sound from the region of Jeremiah’s chest. “When things get back to normal and all the guests are gone, may I please be allowed to make my presence known to TJ? I would really like to be friends with him.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“This is their home and ours, my love. It is important we establish a sustainable relationship sooner or later; preferably sooner. You will be permitted to materialize only for Glen and/or TJ, never for anyone else. I want your word on that. Break it again and the privilege will be revoked for a very long time, if not forever. Do you accept that statute?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“Yes,” Micah answered fervently, looking solemnly into Jeremiah’s eyes. “And I hereby promise to always adhere to it.” He wound his arms around the older man’s neck and lovingly kissed him. “Do you think there will come a time when you and Glen will meet?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Jeremiah chuckled and then returned the kiss. “Anything is possible, my precious one,” he softly avowed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">The End</span> <o:p></o:p></span></div>LJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09209660278651151524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5268036008101192934.post-53292075838909936412011-09-20T07:15:00.000-07:002011-11-17T18:52:34.511-08:00Irresistible Temptation<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Written by: LJ</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“Show me!”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“I don’t want to.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“Now!”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">A hand dripping blood was reluctantly held out by one man; a sigh of frustration escaped the lips of another.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">One reached for the first aid kit; the other cringed at the impending sting no matter how gently his injury would be attended to.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“I think you’ve used these supplies more than their owners have,” one sadly commented. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“I wouldn’t be using them now had you withstood the temptation to play with those leather-engraving tools again,” the other pointed out. </span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“Rest assured, my boy, we’ll be discussing your inability to resist momentarily.”<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">The End<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>LJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09209660278651151524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5268036008101192934.post-24598436383341699872011-04-13T01:20:00.000-07:002012-08-13T16:53:20.408-07:00Chillax, Old Man!Written by: LJ<br />
<br />
This is in response to a WL Spring Drabble Challenge<br />
<br />
<br />
“I’m s-sorry,” Micah hitched, cuddling closer to the broad chest of the man who moments ago had soundly spanked him. “I didn’t think you’d even know that word.”<br />
<br />
“It was the connotation, my boy; not necessarily the word itself.” Jeremiah dropped a kiss on his Brat’s head.<br />
<br />
“I got it from the television.”<br />
<br />
“Which is why all gadgets are off limits for the next two weeks, and you are still going to clean up that mess before TJ get home.”<br />
<br />
“But Miss Muffin is his cat.”<br />
<br />
“And you’re the one who deliberately dumped her food all over the kitchen floor.” <br />
<br />
The EndLJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09209660278651151524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5268036008101192934.post-7151073032018416222010-10-09T16:40:00.000-07:002010-10-10T06:57:27.159-07:00A ‘Never Again’ Promise (Fingers Crossed)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOx5Rz3cUUhe385s_JZ7fc6TmP0svTRTi_71R0iUDykEVlbHEii8EryCBsOy6O3bUXocn8iw7foNmngPIIHzWlLcgtLQEvQ60eIJ69FScTCdZxH6j8fw0qfUMFVB_Pd1YUN0rADiA91co/s1600/flyingghost.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="cssfloat: left; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ex="true" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOx5Rz3cUUhe385s_JZ7fc6TmP0svTRTi_71R0iUDykEVlbHEii8EryCBsOy6O3bUXocn8iw7foNmngPIIHzWlLcgtLQEvQ60eIJ69FScTCdZxH6j8fw0qfUMFVB_Pd1YUN0rADiA91co/s200/flyingghost.jpg" width="164" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"></div> <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
Written by Jodie<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">“What have I told you in years past concerning that stunt?” Jeremiah angrily demanded.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
“Not to; but I thought you meant that year only.” Micah was sure Jeremiah would see that for what it was; a load of crap. He glanced up from his position over Jeremiah’s lap and grimaced at the expression on the other man’s face.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">“This should show the rule applies to every year we inhabit this place. You Do Not Scare Anyone With Your ‘Ghost’ Routine At Anytime, Including Halloween!” Jeremiah emphasized each word with a powerful swat, fairly certain the message was finally getting across. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">The End</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEispAXAso0IlfGezmeAt8fidOZ2cdOm95DBoQrHwK6dhUqAC3OC_si6AtnerreSmq_uySnp4a9cTnLhnvUv56KwXdoHUrnpjboKVLXNzZKYfrSAfnDLF0XzRaIv-lAUn6-12ks2Q1g7AqU/s1600/halloween_ghosts_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="cssfloat: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ex="true" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEispAXAso0IlfGezmeAt8fidOZ2cdOm95DBoQrHwK6dhUqAC3OC_si6AtnerreSmq_uySnp4a9cTnLhnvUv56KwXdoHUrnpjboKVLXNzZKYfrSAfnDLF0XzRaIv-lAUn6-12ks2Q1g7AqU/s200/halloween_ghosts_.jpg" width="121" /></a></div>LJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09209660278651151524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5268036008101192934.post-25982457537289596802010-09-06T17:12:00.000-07:002010-09-06T17:12:04.281-07:00Almost HeavenWritten by LJ<br />
<br />
In response to the Tea Room’s September Drabble Challenge 'Baths'<br />
<br />
<br />
“Aren’t ya glad I talked ya into taking advantage of Glen and TJ’s absence?” <br />
<br />
“Uh-huh.” An expression of pure bliss crossed Jeremiah’s face.<br />
<br />
“Aren’t ya glad I talked ya into using this?” <br />
<br />
“Uh-huh.” Jeremiah practically purred as he slid further into the water. <br />
<br />
Micah’s eyes sparkled as he turned the knob.<br />
<br />
“What the hell is that?” Jeremiah demanded, jerking upward.<br />
<br />
“They’re jets; this is a ‘Jacuzzi’!”<br />
<br />
Jeremiah glared for a moment before leaning back and giving into the new sensation. <br />
<br />
“Aren’t ya glad I turned them on?”<br />
<br />
“Uh-huh, but I’ll be even more ‘glad’ when you stop babbling.”<br />
<br />
The EndLJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09209660278651151524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5268036008101192934.post-44422586079662325242010-08-20T15:30:00.001-07:002011-03-11T07:20:49.257-08:00Dangerous DrivingWritten By Jodie<br />
<br />
<br />
“I swear if I wasn’t already dead, you’d be the death of me,” Jeremiah complained into the hair of his sobbing Brat.<br />
<br />
“I pulled worse stunts when we were alive and none of them ever killed you,” Micah tearfully reminded the older man as he reached around to rub tentatively at his sore bottom.<br />
<br />
“Humph, that was probably due to my being younger then.” Jeremiah groaned and rolled his eyes when he felt the man in his arms tremble with suppressed laughter. Apparently his Brat was still able to find something amusing about driving the lawnmower through Glen’s vegetable garden.<br />
<br />
The EndLJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09209660278651151524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5268036008101192934.post-83571617243177060422010-08-03T16:58:00.000-07:002010-08-03T16:58:04.119-07:00Still CountingWritten by LJ<br />
<br />
In response to The Tea Room’s August 2010 ‘Love Letter’ Drabble Challenge.<br />
<br />
<br />
I sat on the floor, totally mesmerized by the red rose in my hand as I tenderly touched each delicate petal. <br />
<br />
Neither of us could ever be accused of being romantics. Yet here it was that I found myself moved almost to tears by his loving gesture. <br />
<br />
Like the rose, his note was just as sweet and unexpected. <br />
<br />
<em>‘We may both be dead to the world, my darling. All too soon this rose will also be dead. But rest assured that my love for you will live forever. We’ve had over a century as lovers with countless more to come.’</em><br />
<br />
The EndLJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09209660278651151524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5268036008101192934.post-606113548674721292010-07-30T17:43:00.000-07:002011-03-11T07:17:56.148-08:00Too Great a Temptation<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDP3nvOx3rM0XEWyh5DVyynDqV1LlkYsIcB4-YwAfia4hPwodAjJgaZZkuaInETBqPPsuYUg-3_5fK9QlRcEeWylHlu6yf7-TbzfSwwBq6vlFq9dG7exRC3YtrJk_wTeOpT9xpNcN0xGs/s1600/ice+cream.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDP3nvOx3rM0XEWyh5DVyynDqV1LlkYsIcB4-YwAfia4hPwodAjJgaZZkuaInETBqPPsuYUg-3_5fK9QlRcEeWylHlu6yf7-TbzfSwwBq6vlFq9dG7exRC3YtrJk_wTeOpT9xpNcN0xGs/s1600/ice+cream.jpg" /></a>Written by LJ<br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">In response to the WL Ice Cream Drabble Challenge</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><br />
<br />
“You do realize that hiding my dessert when I leave the room is becoming old hat, don’t you, Glen?”<br />
<br />
“Pardon me?”<br />
<br />
Micah snickered as he dipped the spoon into the ill-gotten treat. He was sure he’d found a safe hiding place. <br />
<br />
A painful swat landing on his backside had him rethinking that assumption. <br />
<br />
“Is stealing acceptable?” Jeremiah growled.<br />
<br />
“Sometimes?” <br />
<br />
A second swat confirmed he’d given the wrong answer.<br />
<br />
“Return it immediately!” <br />
<br />
The order was reluctantly obeyed, but not until the spoonful had been hastily consumed. Micah felt the taste of ice cream was worth any price he had to pay.<br />
<br />
The EndLJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09209660278651151524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5268036008101192934.post-12600756795449295272010-06-12T14:59:00.000-07:002010-07-30T17:46:29.321-07:00Two 'Ghosts' DrabblesBoth of these were written in response to the <br />
WL 'It's Not My Fault' Drabble Challenge.<br />
<br />
<br />
Modern Conveniences<br />
<br />
<br />
Written By LJ<br />
<br />
<br />
“It wasn’t my fault!” Micah wailed as another walloped land on his bare backside. <br />
<br />
“You’ve wanted to play with that confounded contraption ever since TJ brought it home. That cat could have been badly injured. Fortunately, you only frightened it.”<br />
<br />
“But I had no way of knowing it would be that forceful.”<br />
<br />
“Which is why you’ve been told not to fool around with things you know nothing about.” One final swat and Jeremiah set his Brat back on his feet.<br />
<br />
“It’s not a contraption. It’s called a pressure-washer.” Micah, always the optimist, smiled through his tears. “But I’m forgiven, right?”<br />
<br />
The End<br />
<br />
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* <br />
<br />
Blow-up <br />
<br />
<br />
Written By LJ<br />
<br />
<br />
“It wasn’t my fault it blew up!” Micah was standing in the corner, still sniffling. Jeremiah was sipping a brandy in order to calm his frazzled nerves. <br />
<br />
“If I wasn’t already dead, that explosion would have killed me. Between the noise and the dirt, I thought we were under attack.”<br />
<br />
“It just seemed so easy to use.”<br />
<br />
“Just watching doesn’t make you proficient.”<br />
<br />
“TJ called it a piece of junk, but Glen said it’s a vacuum and manufacturers build in redundancy so you’re forced to buy replacements. Guess I shouldn’t have taken it out of the trash,” Micah reluctantly admitted.<br />
<br />
The EndLJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09209660278651151524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5268036008101192934.post-61703577499495015522009-04-26T08:27:00.000-07:002010-06-21T17:10:39.794-07:00Just The Two of UsWritten By: LJ<br />
<br />
Special thank you to Caleb for his assistance in developing these characters; it is greatly appreciated.<br />
<br />
<br />
“Well, my dear, what do you think of the whole thing?” Jeremiah pondered as he and his partner, Micah, stood side by side, gazing up at the two portraits.<br />
<br />
“You already know I don’t like other people in our home, but I just can’t seem to get rid of these guys. They must be hard-headed or something, not to take the hints I’ve been giving,” Micah resentfully protested. He had a tough time accepting change and sharing like this was just too much to ask. “At least our pictures are back where they belong.”<br />
<br />
“Rather like turning a full circle, wouldn’t you say?” The older man smiled indulgently, secretly amused by his Brat’s disgruntlement.<br />
<br />
“Yeah, right!” Micah muttered. “The portraits should never have been moved in the first place; too many special memories associated with the time they were painted.” He glanced up at his lover and reluctantly admitted. “Okay, we’ve had worse living in the house with us, but that doesn’t mean I’ve given up.”<br />
<br />
“There will be no more of your shenanigans where this couple is concerned, my boy, or else.” Jeremiah sternly frowned down at the object of his disapproval. “Apparently, I failed to clarify my abhorrence of such behaviour when we discussed it not more than a week ago.” He placed a proprietary hand on Micah’s backside to emphasize his point.<br />
<br />
Micah shifted impatiently to dislodge the big hand resting on his rear end. “You got your message across quite well, thank you very much, Jeremiah, but that doesn’t mean I have to like sharing the home we built together.” He blinked back the tears threatening to fall. God, he hated being so emotional and had hoped in time to overcome what he perceived to be a weakness on his part. But such had not been the case. Even in death, his emotions continued to play havoc with him. He wrapped his arms around the older man, leaned heavily against his partner’s massive chest and sighed. “All right, even though I might try harder to follow your directive, I’m not making any promises.” He crossed his fingers behind Jeremiah’s back.<br />
<br />
“These two men are not the first to share our home and make use of what we have always consider our bedroom, Sweetheart, and in all likelihood will not be the last.” The ex-sea captain placed strong arms about his lover’s shoulders and drew him closer to tenderly kiss Micah’s trembling lips. “There is no need to get work up over it.” He softly whispered the admonishment as he gazed into shimmering eyes; radiant, blue eyes that reminded him of the sea when the sun sparkled across its’ waves. The sea they had left behind so many years ago. It was their mutual love of the vast oceans that brought them together in the spring of 1892, when Micah had stolen aboard the ship Jeremiah was serving on. Although only twenty, Jeremiah’s size and aptitude had rapidly earned him a position of rank and this meeting had taken place on his initial voyage as First Mate.<br />
<br />
“We built this house in 1905 and have lived here ever since.” Jeremiah paused to get control of his emotions as memories of his death so quickly followed by Micah’s, assailed him. “And while I will admit to preferring we’d had more than ten of those years in the flesh, the rest haven’t been all that bad. Besides, until now we’ve only had to share our home with two other families, covering a combined total of little more than thirty years. And, my boy, if memory serves me right, you seemed to have found a great deal of entertainment in trying to get rid of them.”<br />
<br />
Micah returned the kiss before standing back a bit to look up at Jeremiah. “Yes; and great was the taste of sweet success each time we had finally seen the last of them.” He chuckled in amused remembrance and once again embraced his lover.<br />
<br />
“Of course, Mr. Delaney’s need to go further afield in hopes of finding a better job, had nothing do with their move,” Jeremiah dryly commented.<br />
<br />
“Sure, burst my bubble!” Micah pouted in contrived annoyance. “But in all honesty, I too consider those years we had here while still alive some of the best! If only there could have been more,” he murmured dreamily. “Remember when we first met? I was terrified until I discovered what a big softy you were,” he teased.<br />
<br />
“Of course I remember well the day we met. At the time, I wonder what horrendous crime I had committed to end up with an obnoxious, twelve-year-old stowaway on my hands; one who had a fondness for not only misrepresenting the truth but also for kicking.” Jeremiah smiled at the piqued expression covering his Brat’s face. ‘At least he has the good grace to blush,’ the older man thought. <br />
<br />
“Now in regards to the Delaney children who fair drove you around the bend, they were mere babies when their parent bought this house. A house, I might add that had seemingly stood empty for almost ten years. It was the moving of our portraits that infuriated you most. And to think, it only took you five years to see the last of them. Rather tenacious, weren’t they?”<br />
<br />
“Yeah, I fretted about never getting rid of them,” Micah grumbled while secretly admitting that the two kids had also been getting under his skin in a good way too. His eyes glazed over as he let his thoughts wander back in time.<br />
<br />
************<br />
<br />
He had been born the second son of a wealthy landowner and had known from a very young age that his older brother would inherit everything. He could still summon forth memories of his father badgering him about his future and that as the second son of landed gentry this meant preparing for a Royal commission in the military. Only twelve at the time, Micah believed he had a year or two left before having to make his own way in life, so he was unprepared for the sudden pressure to make plans.<br />
<br />
He hadn’t wanted to go into either the army or the navy. After thinking things through as best he could, Micah decided to run away and steal aboard a ship. Living on the outskirts of a major city in England, this would not be such a hard thing to accomplish. Many times in the past, his uncle had taken him to the docks in London. Though the hustle and bustle was overwhelming, the sights never failed to hold him spellbound. Even the noise and smells had not dampened his enthusiasm.<br />
<br />
Micah had always felt close to his Uncle Robert, who was also a second son and as such had resigned himself to a life as a naval officer. Robert had never married, but it was only years later that the significance behind his single status finally dawned on his nephew. Micah would forever be grateful for the man who had introduced him to this wonderful new world.<br />
<br />
Plans made and his bag packed, Micah said goodbye to the life he’d known. He headed into the city and to the docks where he knew the vessel he sought would be berthed. The Seawinds was a clipper with a sharply raked stern, a counter stern and a square rig. He had seen the ship just a couple of weeks past when on another visit to the docks with his uncle, and fallen in love with her. The ship had sailed into London over a month ago but would soon be returning to Boston. Micah wanted to see the world and most especially to see what America was like.<br />
<br />
He strolled along the massive wharf, mesmerised by the size of the ships, the activity, and the people, and easily got caught up in the excitement of the adventure. He eventually found the Seawinds and stood gazing at one of the few remaining clipper ships still sailing the trade routes; her four masts reaching towards the heavens. ‘What a beauty she is,’ he thought, willing to bet she could do eighteen to twenty knots on a good day. Soon he was to learn how fortunate he had been as this was the Seawinds’ final voyage to England’s shores; the majority of clippers having been steadily replaced by steamships.<br />
<br />
Under cover of darkness, he crept aboard and hid in one of the covered lifeboats. The next day, just as his homeland dipped beyond the horizon, his hiding place was discovered; and by none other than the First Mate. Unceremoniously hauled onto the deck of the ship, he found himself facing a rather formidable large man who looked far from happy. Clutching his meagre collection of personal belongings to his chest, he boldly glared back as he fought desperately to hide his fear.<br />
<br />
Not a word was exchanged and in short order he found himself being dragged, struggling and kicking, to what would prove to be the Captain’s quarters. A hard hand walloping against the seat of his trousers put paid to his attempts to break free.<br />
<br />
The Captain turned out to be a mild-manner sort, who didn’t appear the slightest bit perturb at having his dinner interrupted. Or so it seemed. Micah was to learn differently. Captain Davis was an experienced man of the sea and although a very fair man, he could also be extremely stern when the occasion called for it.<br />
.<br />
“How old are you, son?” Captain Davis had calmly demanded.<br />
<br />
“Thirteen, Sir!” Micah lied without hesitation.<br />
<br />
“Is this your first time at sea?”<br />
<br />
“Yes, Sir; I’d like to become a seaman and I’m willing to do anything necessary to learn the trade.”<br />
<br />
Captain Davis nodded to himself as he wiped his hands and mouth on a napkin before saying, “Go along with Jeremiah here. He will show you where to bunk and get you kitted.”<br />
<br />
And just like that Micah became a cabin boy, and one of thirty crewmen and officers. Although his job consisted mostly of serving the Captain, it was the First Mate he would answer to. It was hard work but he was happy and soon the sea became his life.<br />
<br />
Micah slowly drifted back to the present, his mind beginning to conger up ideas for once again ridding their home of the uninvited. He looked up to see Jeremiah gently smiling down at him.<br />
<br />
“Your mind seems to be going full steam ahead, Micah. I trust it is overflowing with gentle memories of our past and not running amuck with plans to cause mayhem for these new homeowners, as that would amount to deliberate disobedience, would it not?” It was a rhetorical question and Jeremiah didn’t expect an answer. If there was one person he knew well, it was his Brat. Their years together had forged a bond others seldom experienced.<br />
<br />
He smiled as he tightened his arms around the slender body of his lover and thought back to that fateful day a hundred and fifteen years ago. He hadn’t realized at the time what a blessing it would turn out to be when their cabin boy, due to an overwhelming bout of homesickness, had failed to return to the ship. Micah’s devious advent quickly solved the problem and put an end to the cook’s exaggerated grumbling about already having enough to do without having to wait hand and foot on the captain.<br />
<br />
Jeremiah was always quick to admit how readily Micah had taken to a life at sea and how hard the boy could work to meet all the expectations put upon him, providing he felt like it of course. Concentrating on remembering only the good times, he deliberately put out of his mind the boy’s penchant to be dangerously adventurous, extremely pig-headed and not at all opposed to being insolent and defiant by times.<br />
<br />
Truth be told, Jeremiah was proud of his partner; a man who steadily rose in the ranks to eventually become First Mate to Jeremiah when the older man acquired his own ship. By then the company had traded in the entire fleet for steamships. In total, these two men had travelled the world together for over thirteen years until an accident changed their lives forever.<br />
<br />
************<br />
<br />
Dropping a gentle kiss on Micah’s light brown hair, Jeremiah softly suggestion they sit down. He limping over to the large over-stuffed sofa and lowered himself onto the comfortable settee, relieved to have the weight off his injured leg. Then he tugged Micah down to cuddle against him.<br />
<br />
Micah tenderly gazed into his lover’s face and spotting a line or two of pain near the older man’s eyes, reached up to gently trace them with his fingertips. This larger-than-life man who often suffered in silence the reoccurring bouts of anguish caused by wounds of old; this man who, when Micah was but a fledgling seaman, had become his mentor, his hero, his world.<br />
<br />
The younger man thought back to the look of chagrin that had crossed Jeremiah’s handsome face when a troublesome trespasser had been given into his kind care and keeping, and chuckled. He still found humour in the long-past incident.<br />
<br />
Nestling against Jeremiah’s right side, Micah recalled with fondness what to him at the time were life-changing events: of Jeremiah literally teaching him the ropes, of Jeremiah caring for him during several days of seasickness, of Jeremiah putting up a hammock in his personal quarters for Micah to sleep in, and of Jeremiah rescuing him on numerous occasions when his unbridled curiosity got the better of him.<br />
<br />
It was during the second night out to sea when Jeremiah found him sleeping in the crawl space below the stairs. Micah had been afraid to sleep in the bunk assigned to him as he was wary of spending the nights with the rest of the crew. Jeremiah had taken the frightened boy to a small room which Micah soon learned was one of two belonging to the First and Second Mates. Micah had slept the night through, curled up against the bigger man’s back. The next night, he discovered the hammock hanging, thus becoming his bed for the duration of the trip.<br />
<br />
Then there was the time just over a week after coming on-board, when the foolish lad had dared to climb the mast only to realize he was unable to get down on his own and didn’t trust any of the men to assist him. Jeremiah had scaled the ropes in a matter of seconds and within minutes had him back on deck. Micah cringed slightly at the memory of what happened next. A rather pissed-off First Mate had whaled the tar out of a very wayward cabin boy; one whom would repeatedly over the years find himself in what would become a very familiar and painful position.<br />
<br />
Reminiscences came to mind of standing by the bow of the ship, seawater spraying over his face and the wind blowing through his shoulder-length hair. Micah loved watching Jeremiah at the wheel, his muscular legs sturdily spread to keep his balance and powerful hands competently keeping the ship on course. At six-foot-four, the man towered over everyone else on the ship and Micah was enthralled by the sight of him.<br />
<br />
“Get below, boy!” Jeremiah had bellowed over the din of the fast approaching storm.<br />
<br />
“But I like it here!” Micah had hollered back, staying rooted to the spot.<br />
<br />
“You’ll not like a huge wave washing you overboard,” Jeremiah had pointed out before hauling the boy over to stand between him and the wheel, thus protecting him against the elements.<br />
<br />
Micah recalled having leaned back contentedly against the other man, relishing the warmth provided by the much larger body enveloping his smaller one. He sighed deeply as that particular memory assailed him. Times of him and Jeremiah standing along; feelings of it being just the two of them against the world were the happiest for him. He really didn’t want it to change. He was stirred from his musings by the light snoring of his partner.<br />
<br />
“Ah-ha,” Micah softly exclaimed, rubbing his hands together as he slowly pushed himself up off the sofa. He took care not to disturb the sleeping giant. “It’s a perfect time to see what I can do to cause a bother for these trespassers who have invaded our home.”<br />
<br />
************<br />
<br />
A short time later, Jeremiah bolted upright, startled out of his restful repose. A snarling, hissing cat flew by his feet, obviously in pursuit of something. He could hear raised voices and then a piercing screech from the kitchen. He gave out a growl of frustration and got to his feet. He strongly suspected his Brat of being behind this latest disturbance and had every intention of getting to the bottom of it.<br />
<br />
He found Micah standing in the hall with an expression of pure delight animating his beautiful face. Grabbing the young man by the arm, Jeremiah firmly steered him up the stairs and into the spare bedroom.<br />
<br />
Pointing to the bed, Jeremiah indicated Micah take a seat. “Well, what mischief have you been up to now?” he demanded as he glared down at the unrepentant man, determined to wipe the smile off his Brat’s face.<br />
<br />
“Ah, it was just a little field mouse; it somehow found its’ way into the house. Kind of sent the cat into frenzy and managed to give TJ quite a fright.” Micah chuckled with glee. So pleased was he with himself, he failed to take precautions to keep his self-satisfaction hidden.<br />
<br />
After all these years, the speed at which his partner could move still caught Micah off guard. His laughter quickly turned to wails of dismay when he found himself face-down over Jeremiah’s hard thighs with a heavy hand expressing the older man’s displeasure on the seat of his trousers.<br />
<br />
“You were clearly told not to interfere with these two men. I have never, nor will I ever tolerate deliberate disobedience and you know it.” Jeremiah stopped talking to pull down Micah’s trousers and concentrate on the task at hand; delivering a spanking that would not be forgotten anytime soon.<br />
<br />
“S-sorry,” Micah hitched sometime later. “Just couldn’t help myself, Jer.” Peace momentarily reigned throughout the household and the men took it as a sign that the mouse was no longer running wild downstairs.<br />
<br />
“Hmmm, that’s why I’m here, boy, as a control influencing,” Jeremiah softly chuckled at his Brat’s groan of contrived vexation. “It’s taken care of. Now go to sleep for a bit.” He made to rise from the bed where they had been cuddling.<br />
<br />
“Where are you going? Aren’t you going to nap too?” Micah pouted.<br />
<br />
“I was doing just that during your mouse hunting expedition.” The sternness behind Jeremiah’s frown was softened by the twinkle of amusement in his eyes. “I need only to stretch my leg some.”<br />
<br />
“Please stay,” Micah tearfully pleaded, not wanting to be alone. He sighed contentedly a few minutes later when his Top spooned around him. “Talk to me,” he murmured.<br />
<br />
“Hmmm, you may wish you hadn’t made that request,” Jeremiah teased, nibbling at the younger man’s neck.<br />
<br />
“I’m listening though,” Micah insisted; his unshakable curiosity heightened.<br />
<br />
“Just a bit of advice, my love; let it go. As I’ve said before, we will be around long after Glen and TJ have moved on, so stop putting yourself in painful situations.” With that, Jeremiah tenderly caressed his Brat’s sore bottom. “Others have come and gone, but we’re still here.”<br />
<br />
Micah squirmed uncomfortably. The older man was right, but damn how he hated backing down. He had picked up the gauntlet, intent of ridding their home of its’ latest intruders, and throwing it aside would be so bloody hard. “I wish people would just leave us alone. The house is perfectly fine without a living soul in it,” he griped. “If it had to be sold for taxes, why couldn’t it have been to someone like the second couple who bought it? At least they were only here on weekends and a few weeks during the summer; until they died and those reprobate grandsons of theirs inherited it, that is.”<br />
<br />
“You have to give credit where credit is due, Micah. The Frazier’s did a great deal of work on the old place; modernizing it, while at the same time renovating and restoring it to its’ former glory. Really, it never looked so good; until now that is.”<br />
<br />
“If you’re trying to make me feel better, you’re failing miserable, old man.” Micah huffed and pulled the pillow over his head to drown out his partner’s hearty laughter. “Humph, it’s only because Edna and George Frazier needed a place to retire to,” he mumbled in disgruntlement to himself, determined to have the last word.<br />
<br />
“If memory serves me, adapting to anything new has always been an issue with you,” Jeremiah pondered out loud and smiled down at the man in his arms. “When you found out the Seawinds was going into dry dock, you threw a tantrum the likes I had never seen before; although admittedly I’ve had the dubious privilege of witnessing more than I care to count since then. She was the very last of the company’s fleet and had served us well, out-living her expected two-decade lifespan thanks to a bit of luck and a first-rate skipper. We had to go to steam in order to remain viable, but even the new ship failed to pacify you.”<br />
<br />
“I will always like the clipper best, because it is where I met you,” Micah softly murmured, his words clearly attesting to the sentimentalist he was. “It is the memories that make it so special, same as this home we built together. Besides, I warned you right from the first; the new vessel would bring us nothing but bad luck and it did. The only good thing to ever happen with that ship was you finally making captain.” The young man adamantly repeated a declaration he had made many times before.<br />
<br />
“Warning, be damned. You had no way of knowing that turbine was going to malfunction and explode like it did. As sensitive as you are, my boy, you are not clairvoyant and could not possibly have foretold my being injured almost thirteen years before the fact.” Jeremiah gazed lovingly into his lover’s deep blue eyes. ‘I thank God daily it was I who was injured and not you, my beloved.’ The ex-captain’s silent prays of thanks never went unheard.<br />
<br />
Micah grinned at his partner’s rebuttal before sighing contentedly and drifting off to sleep. He stirred slightly as dreams of long gone days filtered through his unconsciousness.<br />
<br />
************<br />
<br />
It was his eighteenth birthday and Micah had returned to the ship earlier than originally planned. The majority of the crew had decided to take him out on the town but Jeremiah’s decision to remain on-board had put a major damper on the festivities as far as Micah was concerned and he was definitely put out by his mentor’s absence.<br />
<br />
He stood outside the captain’s quarters, sullenly contemplating his next move. He wanted so badly to give the door a good kick, but knew what that would earn him. Some of his comrades had attempted to sooth his ruffled feathers by reminding him that Jeremiah really did care about him; however, Micah was not in the mood to accept their consolation.<br />
<br />
Although there was one reminder he was unable to refute and that was how protective the older man had always been of him. At eighteen, Micah normally should have had numerous sexual encounters with the likelihood of many being far from pleasant, but such was not the case; Micah was still untouched. Why, because Jeremiah had stepped in and interfered on more than one occasion.<br />
<br />
The young man shuddered as one particular incident came to mind. He could still picture the drunken seaman cornering him in the ship’s hold; the rancid stench of an unwashed body and putrid breath turning his stomach. Fortunately, Jeremiah had heard his calls for help. Micah later learned his attacker had been taken ashore a small island, where he was left to lick the wounds inflicted by the captain and to fend for himself.<br />
<br />
Suddenly the heavy wooden door in front of Micah opened to reveal the person he felt responsible for his disgruntlement.<br />
<br />
“I was hoping you would weary of the festivities and return to me. I trust you enjoyed your dinner.”<br />
<br />
The warm seductive voice washed over him as he was gently tugged into the room and over to a small table. Micah’s unhappiness instantly melted away and he contentedly surrendered to the calming influence the older man more often than not, seemed to have over him.<br />
<br />
“Please be seated,” Jeremiah invited, smiling down at the surprised expression on the other man’s face. He poured two snifters of brandy and handed one to his guest. He raised his own in a salute. “Happy Birthday, Micah.”<br />
<br />
Micah gulped down the drink and sputtered when the fiery liquid burned a path down his throat, causing his eyes to water. He blinked at Jeremiah’s unconcealed amusement as the older man’s rich laughter filled the room.<br />
<br />
Setting the empty glasses on the table, Jeremiah drew Micah up and into his arms. “I’ve waited long enough for this night, my love,” he huskily whispered, slowly lowering his head until their lips met.<br />
<br />
The kiss deepened and Micah’s mouth opened to allow Jeremiah access. He felt light-headed as he clung to the older man’s shirt. His chest tightened and his heart beat faster. He had dreamed of this moment for so long and found it impossible to contain the whimper that escaped when the kiss ended.<br />
<br />
“I want to make love to you,” Jeremiah murmured, his warm brown eyes tenderly gazing into darkening blue ones as he waited hopefully for the younger man’s response.<br />
<br />
“God, it has taken you long enough!” Micah reached up and grabbed a handful of black hair to pull Jeremiah’s head down until their lips met once again.<br />
<br />
So enthralled was Micah by the feel and taste of the other man’s tongue in his mouth, he was oblivious to Jeremiah removing their clothing. Nor was he fully conscious of being slowly coaxed over to the captain’s bunk. It was only when he felt the cool sheets under him and Jeremiah’s naked body covering his that he became aware of where he was.<br />
<br />
“Jer, I-I….” he panted.<br />
<br />
“I know, my love. Breathe, relax, trust me….” Jeremiah soothed as he placed light kisses along Micah jaw-line and neck before returning to recapture his mouth. Large hands gently caressed a path down the younger man’s body as tongues duelled and heart rates soared.<br />
<br />
Micah gasped when his genitals were firmly fondled and he lifted his hips in an attempt to grind his pulsating erection against Jeremiah’s stomach. He groaned his disappointment when Jeremiah released him to retrieve a jar from under the pillow. He watched spellbound as his lover unscrewed the lid and scooped out a generous amount of Vaseline before apply most to his own erection.<br />
<br />
Jeremiah studied the wide-eyed expression of wonder on Micah’s beautiful face as he slowly slid first one well- lubricated finger, then a second and a third into the younger man’s body. He smiled with pleasure when Micah’s head rolled back and his eyes glazed over in reaction to having his prostate stimulated. When he felt Micah was ready, he removed his fingers, lifted Micah’s legs and placed them on his shoulders. He then slowly and tenderly made love, all the while quietly talking and letting Micah know what he was feeling.<br />
<br />
Added to the new sensation of anal penetration for Micah was the familiar one of masturbation as a large hand closed around his throbbing arousal. They instinctively found the rhythm that worked best, reached the point of no return and then climaxed simultaneously. For a brief moment, Micah wondered if his cries of release had been heard by anyone on the dock and then decided he couldn’t care less.<br />
<br />
In the aftermath, anything other than breathing proved impossible for Micah and he willingly gave himself up to Jeremiah’s tender ministrations. He soon found himself cleaned up and safely enclosed in his lover’s strong arms. For several minutes they softly caressed each other as brown eyes gazed lovingly into blue ones. A silent vow was exchanged; a vow that would be kept the rest of their lives. Micah fell asleep confident in his belief that he would dream of this night forever.<br />
<br />
************<br />
<br />
Micah woke to find Jeremiah standing by the bedroom window. He rolled off the bed, taking care not to let his still tender backside come in contact with the mattress. Walking up behind the older man, he leaned against the broad back and wrapped his arms around him. “What are you thinking about now, Jer? I know you are ‘cause I can smell something burning.”<br />
<br />
Jeremiah turned and raised an eyebrow at his Brat’s choice of words but chose not to comment on them. “I have a couple of ideas on how we can deal with having new owners in our home.” He smiled when Micah cocked his head to one side and looked up inquiringly. “The first and easiest would be for us to accept this room as our own.”<br />
<br />
“I don’t know if that will work,” Micah replied, shaking his head. “They’re expecting several guests next weekend, so where would that leave us?”<br />
<br />
“Ah yes, the housewarming party,” Jeremiah nodded as he recalled the upcoming event.<br />
<br />
“It’s gonna be a blast!” the younger man excited parroted what he’d overheard. “It just better not turn into one of those week-long, drunken, drugged-up fiascos the Frazier boys used to have.” He scowled at the memory and angrily muttered. “Why Edna and George ever left our home to their grandsons, I’ll never figure out. Bloody reprobates! Thank God, they ran out of money and had to put the place up for sale.” An evil grin quickly spread across his face and his eyes lit up. “But, I gotta admit it was great fun scamming them when they were pissed to the eyeballs.”<br />
<br />
“Your manner of speech is beginning to leave a lot to be desired, my boy,” Jeremiah mildly scolded. “You are starting to watch too much television again.”<br />
<br />
“Hey, Jeremiah, even dead guys need a little entertainment.”<br />
<br />
“As long as you keep in mind that smoking is still forbidden. I did not allow it when you were a lad and I will not allow it now.”<br />
<br />
“Yeah, but I don’t know why. I mean, it’s not like it can kill me.” Micah repeated an old argument even knowing he wouldn’t win. He smirked at stern expression on his Top’s face. “Just teasing you, Jer,” he laughed and reached up to plant a kiss on the older man’s lips. “What other option did you come up with?” he asked, thinking a change of subject might be the better part of valour.<br />
<br />
“One involving our moving out of the house all together,” the ex-sea captain softly suggested and immediately held up his hand to ward off his Brat’s wail of disagreement. “It would afford each couple the privacy they need and deserve, my love.” He gently held his partner and rubbed his back in an attempt to placate him. “I learned that Glen has changed his mind about using the summer home as a showroom. He decided it was too far from the main road and has opted for renovating the loft over the garage.” Feeling Micah relaxing against him, Jeremiah continued. “I know it is a much smaller place than we have been accustomed to, baby, but with a bit of work it can be made rather cozy and may even provide the distance you require to stay out of trouble.”<br />
<br />
“Kinda like a new beginning for just the two of us, huh?” Micah tearfully murmured. He knew Jeremiah’s plan made sense but moving on was easier said than done and he loathed adapting to new things. Coming to the conclusion he lacked the wherewithal to debate the issue further, Micah rested his head against his lover’s broad chest and listened to the other man’s ideas, letting Jeremiah’s deep voice engulf and console him.<br />
<br />
“Come, my love,” Jeremiah invited, taking the other man’s smaller hand in his own larger one. “Let’s go check out our new abode.”<br />
<br />
Micah momentarily dug in his heels. “I can still come visit, right? ‘Cause I sure as hell don’t wanna miss that party.” He laughed contentedly and lightly punched Jeremiah on the arm when the older man teasingly chuckled before concurring.<br />
<br />
Hand in hand they walked through the front door of the only home they had known for over a hundred years, both strongly believing they had left the house in capable hands.<br />
<br />
The End.LJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09209660278651151524noreply@blogger.com0