Doug glanced around the party and sighed, wondering what exactly he was doing there. The room was filled with people he didn’t know, talking about things he wasn’t interested in. He took a sip of his drink and leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes to block out the largely drunken crowd.
"Are you here on business or pleasure?"
He opened his eyes, smiling in the direction of the voice. "Is that your subtle way of finding out of you can drink any of the spiked eggnog?"
"Sort of." Bessie sighed and leaned against the wall next to him. "No, actually I was wondering if, by talking to you, I might be distracting you from some undercover operation."
"The only undercover operation going on at this party is going to be Mr. Bethel and Mrs. Martinson. At least until one of their significant others interrupts or the eggnog runs out."
Bessie chuckled and took a small sip from her cup. "So, pleasure then?"
"Not really pleasure, since I’m not actually enjoying myself," Doug admitted. "Well, at least I wasn’t until the company improved."
"You’re such a flatterer, Douglas."
"That’s what all the women say." He grinned at her.
"So, you’re here being bored out of your mind for no reason at all?"
"Pretty much. Except I promised my Dad I’d make the token Witter appearance. What brings you here? Where’s Bodie?"
"Bodie is at the Leery’s restaurant working, Joey and Pacey are at home babysitting Alexander, and I’m here taking a much needed break from being a breadwinner." She took a longer drink. "And trying to have fun while hobnobbing with all the Capeside uppercrust who spent most of the past five years looking down on me."
"At least until you actually started bringing money into the town?" Doug nodded. "Sounds like Capeside."
"We should get out of here, don’t you think?" She gave him a sidelong glance and shrugged at his curious one. "I mean, come on, Doug. You and I don’t fit in here. We don’t belong here. And I can’t imagine actually wasting my one night off on this mind-numbingly boring party."
"What would we do?"
"Anything but this." She set her cup on a nearby table and raised an eyebrow in his direction. "What do you say, Witter? Are you going to stand here and celebrate the holidays by drinking bad eggnog spiked with mediocre rum while you listen to some socialite prattle on about her psychiatric appointments or are you going to take a risk or two and hang out with me?"
"Bessie Potter, you’re supposed to be the responsible one these days."
"Screw that." She took Doug’s drink from his hand and set it next to hers. "Come on. I want to drive the squad car."
He followed behind her, his hand caught firmly in hers. "You can’t drive the squad car. You’ve been drinking." He grabbed his coat off the rack as she pulled him out the front door onto the porch. "This is completely insane, Potter."
"I know." She turned and grinned, the cold already turning the tip of her nose red. "That’s why it’s fun. Be a little bit more like your brother, Doug. He’s impulsive. He’s reckless."
"There are a lot of things that Pacey is and does that I have no desire to duplicate, thanks though." He freed his hand and started to pull on his jacket, stopping when he noticed her shiver. "Christ, you Potter women think you’re invulnerable to cold, don’t you?"
He wrapped the jacket around her shoulders, snapping the top button at the base of her neck so that it stayed. She crossed her bare arms over her chest, rubbing them for warmth. "It’d be warmer in your car."
"It would be warmer back at the party."
"Come on, Doug. There’s got to be a better party out there somewhere, don’t you think? Something a little more our speed?" She glanced back at the staid gathering they’d just left. "Or have you slowed down to ‘one foot in the grave’?"
"You’re not funny." Doug pulled his keys from his pocket and started for his car. "Come on."
Bessie bounced slightly on the balls of her feet, her smile lighting up the evening. "I knew you’d cave."
"We haven’t gone anywhere yet. I just have no desire to explain to Bodie why his fiancée expired of frostbite while in my care, wearing my jacket." He unlocked her door and shook his head. "Get in and I’ll turn on the heater."
"Can we run the siren?"
"No." He closed her door and walked around to the driver’s side, starting as the siren kicked on. He opened his own door and slid in the car, snapping the noise off. He glared at Bessie for a long moment. "Don’t make me lock you in the back seat."
"Handcuffs too?"
"How much eggnog did you have?"
"What you saw is what I drank." Bessie grinned widely. "I’m just in a good mood. I mean, think about it, Doug. You and I haven’t spent any time painting Capeside red since we graduated from high school. Surely you’ve missed it."
"I haven’t missed the lectures I got after each and every artistic evening with you, Bessie."
She unsnapped the collar of his jacket and settled into it more comfortably as the heater began to warm up the car. "Where are we going to go?"
"Well, the Leery’s party was last weekend, or so I heard." He smirked. "Not that my own sister thought about inviting me."
"No kidding," Bessie agreed. "You’d think if Joey was off Dawson’s hit list, Bodie and I would get an invite."
"So that’s out. You keep in touch with any of the high school gang?"
"Are you kidding? When Dad got arrested, they dropped me like a bad habit. No pun intended." She giggled somewhat sadly. "It’s funny that the only person who would still talk to me was the son of the sheriff."
"Well, that’s because I knew your family had nothing to do with it." He stared out the windshield. "Well, the rest of your family. I said that badly."
"You did," she agreed, laughing in earnest. "So I got nothing. Party wise."
"There’s a police function," he suggested quietly. "You’d have to deal with the rest of Capeside’s finest."
"And I thought that was just you."
"Well, that’s the rumor I’ve perpetrated," Doug nodded, trying not to grin. "But the other guys insist that I can’t keep the title to myself."
"Where’s it at?"
"The Leery’s restaurant. Will Bodie mind you showing up with me?"
Bessie turned to look at him, her eyes open and honest. "Should he?"
"That’s a loaded question there, Bess." Doug pressed his lips together as he thought. "I have no intention of doing anything dishonorable, if that’s what you’re asking."
"We’re friends, aren’t we, Doug?"
He nodded, not looking at her. "We are. I guess. Like you said, we haven’t hung out much since high school."
"Life got in the way."
"It tends to. Heck, since high school, you’ve managed a restaurant, raised your sister, had a kid, opened your own business and gotten engaged." He tapped his hands on the steering wheel as they waited at a light. "And I’ve…well, I moved out of my parents’ house."
Bessie laughed and reached over, placing her hand lightly on top of his. She squeezed gently before removing it. "That’s a major feat, I think. But…but friendship lasts, don’t you think?"
He looked at her finally, his eyes dark in the night. "I do."
"Shut up!" Bessie slapped Doug on the upper arm as he helped her out of the car. "I never did anything like that."
"Bessie, I walked into the room and saw it all with my own two eyes."
"What were you doing walking into your sister’s room unannounced?"
"Oh, I was trying to get a look at you au natural." He nodded, letting her take his hand in hers. "You know, because nothing is hotter than a nine year old girl wearing a bra that’s like...what? Seventeen sizes too big?"
"It wasn’t that big."
"A-ha! So you admit it!"
Bessie grinned and shook her head, the light catching the snowflakes that fell from her curls. "The statute of limitations has surely run out on something as meaningless and trivial as swiping a bra from a lingerie store."
"I just don’t understand why you didn’t go for one that might fit."
"I could have grown into it."
"Yeah, if you worked really hard to become Bertha, the fat lady at the circus." He brushed a flake from where it had settled on her cheek. "Face it, Bess. That bra was never going to fit. Hell, both you and my sister could have fit into it without there being a need to loosen the straps."
"You know, all you’re doing is admitting that you were watching." She gave him a sly look as he opened the door to the Leery’s restaurant. "Did it turn you on?"
"Please. My *sister* was in the room with you."
Bessie stopped and looked up at him, her eyes serious despite the twinkle in them. "What if I’d been alone?"
"We’d still have been nine. At that age I was still convinced that you had cooties."
She laughed as they walked in, the warmth of the room rushing to greet them. The restaurant was crowded with people, many of them in uniform. "This is like a stripper convention."
"Pardon?" Doug stopped walking, his eyebrow raised.
"Well, male strippers...uniforms..." She blushed a deep red and shook her head. "Just shut up and we’ll pretend I never spoke."
"Should I tell all the guys on the force here that when you see them in uniform all you can do is imagine them taking it off?" Doug laughed at her as her blush deepened. "Is that what you think when you see me in uniform, Bessie?"
"I’m going to go visit Bodie in the kitchen." She gave Doug a harsh glare. "When I come out again, this conversation is going to be completely over." She walked off without a backward glance.
Doug laughed and then made his way over to a group of other officers standing by the bar. He joined in their conversation, accepting a drink from the bartender, his eye straying every once in a while to the door behind the bar, waiting for her to come back.
"Miss me?"
He turned around quickly, surprised to find her behind him. "Hey."
"So, I told Bodie that I was here with another man and he wanted you to know that you shouldn’t worry if you see him with some sort of carving knife, because it’s just a tool of his trade."
"Great."
"Now a machete or something, that’d be the thing to worry about." Doug turned again to see Bodie leaning against the opposite side of the bar, a sharp knife in his hand. "But just a carving knife...not a problem."
"I feel much more reassured." Doug reached out and shook Bodie’s hand. "You don’t mind me lugging her around town?"
"Hey, if you can put up with her never-ending holiday cheer, more power to ya." Bodie laughed. "Just wear her out so that I don’t have to listen to her sing ‘Winter Wonderland’ again. And again."
"I’ll do what I can. Thanks, Bodie."
"Not a problem." He leaned over the bar and kissed Bessie’s forehead. "I’ll see you tonight, sweetheart."
She nodded her agreement, "Unless Doug woos me away with a trip to Jamaica."
"On a policeman’s salary?" Bodie shook his head, "I’ve heard how these guys tip, Bessie. You’re stranded in Capeside, I think."
"As if I’d run off with some other man’s wife-to-be." Doug noted. "Especially a man with a big-ass knife." He slid off the stool he was sitting on, putting distance between himself and Bodie. "Although I might just dance with her."
"Tire her out. Really. I’m not kidding." Bodie grinned at them both as he headed back toward the kitchen. Bessie gave Doug a knowing glance as he led her out to the area the Leery’s had cleared for dancing.
"What?" Doug asked.
"Did some strange ritual just happen before my eyes?"
Doug grinned and took her into his arms, pulling her close. "Are you asking if we just passed you off between the two of us?" At her look, he laughed. "Don’t worry, Bess. I’d have to have a wife for there to be a wife-swapping arrangement."
"I feel like I’ve been traded."
"He just trusts me to take care of a very lovely lady, keep her safe from all these potential strippers."
She stepped on his foot deliberately. "I thought that conversation never happened."
Doug winced and stepped back a bit, still moving with her to the music. "It didn’t. At least until I’m out of range of those clod-hoppers of yours."
"I’ll have you know that these are my best shoes." She stopped dancing and modeled her shoe for him, the slit in her dress opening to reveal her leg, clad in a silky black stocking. "And I look damn good in them."
"I don’t recall arguing." Doug glanced at the long length of leg then gestured toward a table. "You want to sit?"
"Sure." She walked toward the table and Doug followed her, taking in her outfit for the first time. Her dress was black and slinky, backless and strapless. He wasn’t sure exactly how it managed to stay on her body, other than being skin-tight. She turned as she got to the chair, allowing Doug to pull one of the seats out for her. "So, are you going to introduce me to anyone, or am I just going to be the mysterious woman they tease you about around the station?"
"Half these people grew up here, Bessie."
"Let me rephrase." She gave him a pointed look. "Are we going to socialize?"
Doug hailed one of the drink waiters walking around the room and accepted two glasses of champagne. "We’ll socialize." He handed her a glass.
Bessie held it up and met Doug’s eyes in the dimly lit room. "To friendship."
"To the most beautiful taken woman in the room."
She laughed and sipped her drink, setting it on the table in front of her. "So, who isn’t taken? Just so I know what I’m competing with."
Doug started pointing out the single women in the room, sharing their well-known habits with her. "Marta. Whew." Doug shook his head. "She’s kicked every ass in the department."
"Including yours?"
Doug shrugged. "Now Bess, you should know I don’t kiss and tell."
She laughed and pointed out another woman. "Her?"
"You think I’d date her?" His voice was incredulous. "Exactly how little taste do you think I have?"
"Well, you like the divas, Doug..."
"Musical taste doesn’t necessarily indicate taste in women." He finished his drink and shook his head. "You think so little of me."
"It’s not like we see you parading around town with a girl on your arm. If I didn’t know you so well, I might be tempted to believe Pacey’s little not-so-private joke."
"Actually," Doug leaned forward, closing the distance between them, "the truth is even more frightening."
"Really?" Her eyebrow raised curiously.
"Oh yeah. See, I’m on the internet detail, searching out scary pedophiles. I spend my days and nights pretending I’m a ten year old girl. It throws women off."
"You’re such a fucking liar." She slapped his arm again and pulled back, her eyes bright with laughter. "Dance with me."
"Sure." He got to his feet then helped her to hers, leading her back out onto the floor. They moved into a group of couples, nodding hello to the people they knew.
"Hey, Witter." One of Doug’s fellow officers tapped him on the shoulder. "You’re not supposed to keep the beautiful ones all to yourself. It’s your duty to share with your brothers-in-arms."
"Right, Maxwell." Doug tilted his head and whispered loudly. "What he means, Bess, is that he wasn’t able to get a date and so he wants to horn in on mine."
"We should take pity on him," she acknowledged in an equally loud whisper. "I mean, you remember what it was like in high school."
Maxwell, who had been Capeside’s answer to Casanova, just grinned. "Fork her over, Witter."
"And who am I supposed to dance with?"
"My date."
Doug turned to see Marta approaching them and could barely hide his smile as Bessie laughed. "All right." He handed Bessie off to Maxwell and took Marta into his embrace. "You let him pawn you off like this?"
"Like he could make me do anything I didn’t want to?" She reminded him with a throaty chuckle. "I wondered why you didn’t ask anyone from the force to this. I should have known you were seeing someone."
"Bessie?" Doug shook his head. "Not seeing her. She’s just a friend from high school. She’s engaged to the co-owner of the restaurant. I’m just baby-sitting."
"I can hear you, you know," Bessie reminded him, looking away from her own conversation. "I do not need to be babysat."
"Right. Bodie sounds nothing like a parent. ‘Please Doug, run her ragged so that I can get some sleep tonight.’"
"Actually," Maxwell grinned, "he sounds more like a very lucky but very tired man."
Bessie blushed and looked away as Doug shrugged acceptance. "You might have a point."
"I can’t believe you’re having this conversation with her standing right there." Marta gave both men a look. "Come on, Bessie. Let’s leave these idiots to their male posturing and go get a drink."
"Sure." Bessie slipped out of Maxwell’s arms and linked one arm with Marta. "Besides, I think they’ll look cute dancing together."
The men stood side by side, watching the two women leave the floor. Maxwell shook his head. "Damn."
"She’s taken anyway."
He turned slightly and looked at Doug, one eyebrow raised. "Who said I was talking about Bessie?"
Doug flushed, dark red staining his cheekbones. "Right. Sorry."
"You guys been *friends* long?"
"Shut up." Doug shook his head and started walking, following in the direction the two women had gone. "I’ve barely seen her since high school. And, unlike you, I don’t chase after women who are involved."
"Then what are we doing now?" He’d fallen into step with Doug, heading toward a table. "If not chasing after them?"
"Maybe I’m following your date."
"Maybe you’re going to spend the rest of the holidays in traction." Maxwell stopped walking as they reached the table; both of the men blushing at the direct looks Marta and Bessie gave them. "Hello, ladies."
"It was you they were insulting, Bessie," Marta gave each man a speaking glance. "You make the call."
"I suppose they can sit down." Bessie grinned at Doug, knowing he felt uncomfortable. "But we reserve the right to kick your asses out if you start acting like men."
"It’s kind of an ingrained habit," Doug reminded her, sitting down beside her.
Bessie reached over and squeezed his hand as he lay it on the table. "You can rise above it, Doug. Pacey assures me you’re the sensitive type."
He glared at her and stood up. "Drinks?"
Bessie nodded, her eyes twinkling. "More champagne would be nice."
"I’ll be back."
"You’re drunk, you know that?" Doug whispered the words against Bessie’s hair as he danced with her, the weight of her body warm against his.
"No drunker than you are." She turned her head so that she could look at him. "You know you’re not driving me home."
"That’s why I took you to a party that contained your husband to be..." Doug stopped and forced himself to concentrate. "That’s not right. Or something."
"You think Bodie’ll give you a ride home too?" Bessie giggled. "Kind of like a chaperone."
"Kind of." Doug moved again, his hand pressed firmly to the small of her back. "Except I don’t think most girls end up going home and sleeping with their chaperones."
"I hope not." Bessie lay her head against Doug’s chest and placed their joined hands over his heart. "This has been fun though, hasn’t it? Your friends are very strange."
"They like you."
"I’d like to have friends again."
Doug released her hand and brought his up to lift her chin, forcing her eyes to his. "We’re friends."
"It would be nice to have friends that I see, that I can hang out with, do stuff with. Maybe I’ll have to take up a hobby and go hang out with Marta at the gun range."
"A Potter knowing how to handle a weapon. Why does that thought fill me with fear?"
Bessie smiled up at him, aware in the back of her mind that they should be moving, swaying, something. "We’re not dancing." "No," Doug agreed. His voice changed, huskier as he stared down at her, the blue of his eyes like twin fires in the dim room. "We’re not."
"I think you should take me home, Doug."
He nodded slowly. "You don’t want to wait for Bodie?"
"No."
"I’ll get my coat." He pulled away from her reluctantly, catching her hand at the last minute. They walked over to the bar where Gretchen was standing. "Hey, Gretch, do you think you could grab Bodie out of the kitchen for a minute?"
She gave Doug a long look before nodding, poking her head into the kitchen. Bodie followed her out a moment later; his smile aimed directly at Bessie. "What’s up?"
"I’m not feeling so well," Bessie told him. "Doug’s going to walk me home."
"It’s freezing out there," Bodie shook his head. "I’ll drive you."
"No, it’s okay. It’s not that far." She leaned in and kissed him softly. "What time will you be home?"
"A couple of hours."
"I’ll see you then."
Doug watched them say goodnight, avoiding his sister’s questioning gaze. "Don’t worry, Bodie," he assured the other man as Bessie took a step back. "I’ll get her home safe and sound."
"I trust ya, Doug. After all, it’s your job to protect and serve, right?"
"That’s what it says on the badge...or the oath. I’m a little hazy on the specifics right now." He grinned and waved, heading for the door and his coat. Bessie said goodbye to Bodie once more before following Doug, accepting the thick jacket he offered her.
They stepped out into the cold, both shivering. Doug reached out and took Bessie’s hand, leading her to his car. "We’re not supposed to drive."
"We’re not going to drive. But you’re going to make it about five feet in those shoes, so I thought I’d loan you a pair of boots." He opened the door and set her down on the edge of the back seat then moved to the trunk. Tugging out a pair of boots, he carried them over to Bessie and held them up.
"What are they supposed to protect me from? The thigh-high snow drifts?"
"They’re for the storm season." He shrugged as he handed her the wading boots. "I didn’t say they were perfect." Squatting down, he helped her off with her high heel then guided her foot into the rubber shoe. It was sizes too big for her and ended somewhere around her lower thigh when she pulled it up all the way.
"I feel like an idiot."
"You look like an idiot," he agreed with her. "But at least you’re not going to freeze to death." He took off her other shoe, ignoring the silky feel of her stocking, handing her the other boot. "Let’s go, Potter. It ain’t getting any warmer."
Bessie stood up, letting her long dress fall over the boots. "Grunge is so in again, right?"
"You’re asking me? Because I know specifically what about grunge?" Doug picked up her heels as he straightened, starting off toward the direction of the creek. "Face it, Bess. We’re past grunge and new wave and settled firmly into ‘hip to be square’."
"Maybe you are, Witter, but I am at the cutting edge of musical brilliance."
"Uh-huh. Name one artist with a record out this year."
She took his hand again, moving closer to bump into his shoulder. "Madonna."
"Name an artist under the age of forty."
She pouted as she thought, occasionally stumbling against him as she perfected walking in his shoes. "Okay, fine. You win. You’re way cooler than I am."
"Oh yeah." Doug nodded seriously. "You remember me back in high school, everyone wanted to be my best friend."
Bessie released his hand and slipped her arm around his waist. She was quiet for a moment before looking up at him and smiling. "Thank you."
"For what, exactly?"
"This walk home could have been damned uncomfortable." She bit her lower lip and stopped walking, her eyes locked on his. "Don’t you think?"
They were on the edge of the docks, the softness of the streetlights hazy in the cold. Doug looked down at her, his blood pounding in his ears. He nodded slightly. "It could have been."
"But...but it’s not, is it?" Her lips were parted, the soft puffs of her breath visible in the chilly air. She moved a step closer to him, licking her lips as he bent his head.
"No," he breathed.
"Doug..." She raised up onto her toes, unsure of what she was doing, only to stop as a snowflake landed on the tip of her nose. She giggled, sinking back down to the ground. "It’s snowing."
He grinned at her and moved away, taking her hand and beginning to walk once more. "Great. Now we might have to trudge through thigh-high snowdrifts. Way to go, Bess."
She released him and ran a bit ahead, twirling around in the falling snow. "I love the snow."
"Yeah, well, you’re wearing my coat." He gave her a sly look. "At least as long as you can keep it away from me."
Bessie let out a shriek and started running, giggling all the while as Doug chased her toward home. They were both laughing as they ran, panting hard and barely feeling the sting of cold as the snow continued to rain down.
As they reached the lawn of the B&B, Bessie tried to shush him through her laughter. "Shh! Alexander is probably asleep. And who knows what Pacey and Joey are doing."
The crisp air carried her words to him loudly and Doug shook his head. "They could stand a little interrupting." He took a menacing step toward her. "You have to make it to the house, Bess. You think you can do it before I catch you?"
She wheeled around and took off at a run, trying to suppress her giggles. Doug caught her at the porch, wrapping his arms around her waist and wheeling her around. They collapsed on the steps, her sitting firmly on his lap.
His breath was warm against her ear, bright red from the cold. "You win."
"I do." He agreed cockily. "Not that there was ever any doubt."
Bessie shifted so that she was sitting sideways and could see his face. "Were you toying with me, Douglas?"
"Oh yeah."
"Bastard."
He batted his long lashes, the picture of innocence. "I don’t know what you could possibly mean."
They stared at each other for a long moment, the sexual tension that had dissipated with their frantic chase flooding back into the moment. Bessie leaned forward and placed a light kiss on Doug’s lips.
"What was that for?" He asked breathlessly.
Bessie looked up and pointed at the sprig of mistletoe that adorned the porch covering. "We’re under the mistletoe."
Doug nodded and fit his hand to the back of her neck, bringing her lips closer to his. "So we are."
Her lips parted easily under his, the warmth of her mouth making him forget completely about the cold. Her tongue found his, tasting him as he explored her, both of them not thinking of anything but the hot flood of sensation that seemed to melt the snow around them.
Doug pulled away first, swallowing hard as he looked at her. Her eyes were half-closed, her lips were slightly swollen and her face was flushed. She looked amazingly sexy. "I really, really need to get the hell out of here."
She nodded, her fingers lightly brushing his cheek before she managed to get to her feet. Doug stood up and took a few steps back, not even noticing the snow, now falling harder around him, painting his hair, his cheeks, his eyelashes. Bessie slipped out of his coat and handed it to him, seemingly unaware of how revealing her dress was. Not the lack of back or straps, but the smooth material letting him know exactly how much their kiss had affected her.
He took the coat without touching her, tucking it under his arm. "Goodnight, Bess."
"Goodnight, Doug." She turned and hurried into the B&B, not looking back after she closed the door. Doug turned on his heel and started back toward town, refusing to allow himself to glance back over his shoulder.
Pacey lay asleep on the couch, his head tucked at the edge of the arm and the back. His lashes fluttered against his cheeks as he breathed deeply. Joey was lying above him, her head in the hollow of his neck. Their relaxed state seemed to deepen the ache in Bessie’s stomach.
She walked past them as quietly as possible, poking her head into Alex’s room. He was sound asleep as well, the soft snuffling of his breathing comforting her. Continuing down the hall, she walked into her room and shut the door, sitting on the edge of the bed.
Her body felt heavy and light all at once. She’d kissed him, kissed Doug and let him kiss her. She’d liked kissing him, wanted to kiss him. Wanted, almost more than anything, to kiss him again.
Standing up, Bessie reached back and unfastened her dress, letting it fall to the floor. She started to step out of it, laughing at the sight of her body, dressed in lacy lingerie and thigh-high wading boots. She stepped free of the material carefully before picking it up and laying it across the bed. Sitting once more, she eased the boots off her legs, setting them beside her nightstand.
She’d give them back to Doug tomorrow.
Doug stopped finally, the cold pervading his senses, which he’d obviously taken leave of. What had compelled him to kiss her? Just because they’d had a wonderful time and she’d made him laugh was no reason to taste the pink fullness of her lips. Just because she’d felt so warm and right on his lap gave him no right to mold her body to his.
She was engaged to marry one of his friends, someone he liked and respected. She was the mother of a great little kid. She was completely and totally out of his reach.
Sighing, Doug paused to pull on the coat that, no doubt, would smell like her. He laughed out loud in the darkness as he realized he still held her high heels in his hand like some sort of demented Prince Charming. Setting them down as he slipped the jacket on, he grabbed them again and started toward home.
He’d give them back to Bessie tomorrow.
| 12/22/00 |
| Dawson's Archive | Buffy Archive |