You'll Think Of Me
(ATF)

by Angie

Author's Note: They keep playing this song on the radio and this story popped into my head.

It was a stupid argument. It started out so simply and mushroomed into an all-out screaming match. It was damned unusual that it hadn't come to blows. He knew why. Ezra would never hit him, he just didn't have it in him to raise his hand to someone he cared about. And then he had left, on loan to the Chicago office for a sting they were trying to set up on contraband cigarettes coming in from Canada.

*******

The morning had started out like every one they spent together. Waking up in the southerner's bed, surrounded by his warmth and scent was a treasure he was still missing. After a shower, he had gone in to wake Ezra to tell him to be careful on his way in to the office. Offhandedly, Ezra replied that it was he who should be careful, considering what he drove. That remark stung and was the beginning of the stupid argument.

"Me? What about that finicky, spoiled rotten car you drive?" I had spat.

"My car is not finicky or spoiled," he had informed me while stretching and flipping his pillow over.

"Then why is it in the shop so often?"

"Maintenance? Perhaps you've heard of it? That's where a qualified mechanic checks the vehicle for wear and tear and makes repairs before the car breaks down in the middle of the expressway during morning rush hour."

Okay, so my car did break down and we were late for work, but I told Chris it was my fault so he wouldn't yell at Ezra. And it broke down again in the rain and we had to walk half a mile to find a place where our cell phones had a signal. And the turn signal thing was still broken, so you had to roll the window down and put your hand out to signal.

"I thought you said you forgave me for that?" I pouted.

"I have forgiven you, I have not forgotten."

Then there was the rest of the day at the office. He was pointing out the mistakes in the report I turned in on the Wilkerson bust. I didn't need the entire office knowing that I had lost my palm pilot with all my notes in it. He stopped me in the hall and told me that he hadn't meant anything by it but I was too mad to listen.

But the straw that broke the camel's back was that night over supper. He told me that he wanted me to stay at the condo while he was away in Chicago. I told him that I was going back to my place. I didn't see what difference it made to him where I slept while he was out of town. He said I was being juvenile. The next thing I knew, I was throwing my stuff in a duffle and heading out the door. I didn't even tell him goodbye.

That was almost two months ago. I know he's been in touch with Chris, we get regular updates on the case every time he calls in. For the first couple of days, he called my cell phone and I refused to answer it. The guys know something's wrong between us, they asked me if I was just missing him and I didn't say anything. What was I going to say? It was stupid. Why didn't I just tell him the truth? Why didn't I tell the guys? They would understand. At least I think they would understand.

*******

I can't believe I let him leave like that. I honestly don't know how it got so quickly out of hand. I was only partially awake when JD told me to be careful on my way in to work. Whatever possessed me to bring up his car breaking down the other day? Not even routine maintenance would have caught the faulty belt on the alternator. Like anyone who's prize automobile was maligned, he struck back, calling my car finicky and spoiled. I do pamper the Jag. They don't call them high maintenance vehicles for no reason. I prefer to catch the problems before they become problems. It's just a different philosophy on car care.

And then, what possible reason could I have had for pointing out the errors in his report in the middle of the office? With everyone there to hear about it. I tried to apologize to him but I suppose I wasn't very sincere. JD just looked at me like a kicked puppy and turned and walked away. He was embarrassed, I know. He tries so hard to do everything perfectly so no one can deride him for any mistakes. God, was I ever that young and eager to please? I don't think so.

The whole thing came to a head that night over dinner. I stopped and picked up a few things and cooked his favorite pasta dish. It was my way of making up to him for the day. I asked him if he was going to stay at the condo while I was gone. I wanted someone to be there to take in the mail and pick up the paper for me. I also wanted him to know that it was as much his place as mine. I didn't want him to think he had to stay somewhere else just because I wasn't there. He was commenting one time about how he was like a gypsy, he stayed with Buck and he stayed with me but he didn't have any place that was all of his own. The next thing I knew, he was packing up his stuff and leaving.

I put the leftovers in a bowl and started to put them in the refrigerator, thinking he would eat them later. Then I realized that he probably wasn't coming back, so I threw everything out. While I was at it, I cleared out the entire refrigerator. Eggs, milk, anything that wouldn't keep went into the trash. I attacked the cabinets next, throwing out all the perishables I laid my hands on. All of the snack cakes he kept stashed behind the cereal boxes, the cereal boxes themselves, anything that wasn't in a can went in the trash. I made three trips to the dumpster with everything. In a fit of pique, I also gathered up everything of his that I could find and put it in a box. His toiletries, shampoo and conditioner, his razor and toothbrush, the package of dental floss he brought home from his last dental check up, everything went into the box. While I was at it, I went through my dresser drawers and collected all of his socks and underwear, pajama bottoms and tee shirts, mostly stuff I had bought for him so he would have them there when I kept him overnight and put them in the box. I gathered up all the silly stuff from McDonalds that he had lined up on the kitchen window sill.

That was almost two months ago. I feel like a hundred years have passed since that night. I took my spare set of keys to his car and drove over to Buck's apartment complex. I put the box in the trunk and tossed the keys in too. I was being petty and spiteful. And juvenile, just what I'd accused him of being. It was so stupid. I miss him. I miss the smell of his shampoo, so much that I went to a dozen stores until I found a bottle.

The mission was routine, and boring. I called JD every night for the first few days. He wasn't taking my calls. My stubborn pride wouldn't let me leave him a message, afraid I'd break down and blubber like a baby, begging him to forgive me for driving him away. At least I could ask Chris about him when I reported in. He said that JD was okay, that he seemed down but they attributed it to my being gone. Seems JD didn't air our dirty laundry in the office as I feared he might. I should have known better, he knew how much I valued the very private side of our relationship.

*******

I should break down and call him but I don't know if he's in the middle of a meet or anything. I can't very well ask Chris without letting on that we had a fight. He was real clear on us not bringing our relationship into the office when he found out that we were a couple. I heard that song on the radio again, the one that reminds me of the day after our fight. When I went down to my car the next morning, I went to put my briefcase in the trunk and found the box of stuff he left for me. That hurt. It sure looked like he wanted to wipe all traces of me from his place, he even threw in the dental floss and it wasn't even opened.

The guys invited me to go with them to the stock car races this weekend. We finished the Trivers case and the judge gave us the weekend off. They want to drive up and make an overnight of it. I should go but I really don't feel up to it. Buck just shakes his head and walks away when I tell him. Now I'm all by myself here. I call the condo, just to hear his voice on the answering machine. How pathetic is that? I wonder when he's coming home.

*******

'Come on, come on, finish your presentation and let's get this meeting over!' I find myself thinking. The bust went down perfectly, not even a single shot fired. Now if this pompous, overbearing, boring, intellectually challenged, Neanderthal would shut up, we could all go home. I pull out my cell phone and run through the pictures I have stored in it. The ones he doesn't know about. He'd faint dead away if he knew that I have pictures of him sleeping stored in my phone. I even have a picture of his foot. He has the cutest toes of any person I've ever seen. His eyelashes are so thick and dark on his cheeks. I must be really homesick, last night I called the office just to hear his voice on his voicemail announcement. I think I must have played it five or six times before I hung up.

Finally! The meeting is over! I call the airport and ask for standby on the next flight to Denver. I had packed my bags before coming in this morning so I could go directly to the airport. Somehow, some way, I have to get through to him, to tell him that I can't go on like this. The guys I've been working with smile knowingly when I tell them that I'm on my way to the airport. It hadn't taken them long to figure out that I had it bad for someone.

*******

Okay, I've cleaned the apartment until Buck will probably fall over from shock. I washed and waxed both my car and his truck. I even weeded the flower bed by our building. I've got it so bad. I think about going over and waxing the Jag. It might still look nice when he gets home. I wonder if he thought to have someone take care of the plants on the balcony. I guess his housekeeper probably takes care of them for him while he's out of town. That's what I'll do, I'll go over and wash and wax the Jag for him. He'll like that.

*******

How many times can we circle the airport before they let us land? Isn't there some law against holding people against their will? Give me a parachute and I'll jump. If that kid doesn't stop picking his nose, I'll take a trash bag and jump. Five thousand feet above Denver. Barely a mile from JD. I can't take much more.

*******

The car looks great! I washed it and used the hard paste wax, the kind you really have to buff to make shine. No electric buffer for me, no sir, I used elbow grease. I even got some of that Armor-All stuff and cleaned the tires and made them shine. All of the glass is clean, inside and out, not a streak to be found. I wonder where he is right now?

*******

They lost one of my bags. The one with most of my good suits in it. Normally, this would have had me in a murderous rage but right now I could care less. I just want to get home. Send the bag to me when you locate it? Sure, fine, whatever, just as long as I can leave now. Would I like a courtesy limo ride home for my trouble? Hell yes, anything that gets me there, limo, cab, city bus, I'd even ride on the back of Vin Tanner's motorcycle. Let's get this show on the road!

*******

Tired. I've finally made it to the point where I'm tired. I haven't slept decently since he left. I even went to the store and tried to find some sheets like he has on his bed. Damned things are imported. I swiped a sample of his cologne from the store a couple of weeks ago. Stuff costs more than I make in a week! But it reminds me of him. I'll bet he wouldn't mind if I just stayed the night. He did want me to stay at his place while he was gone. A nice, long, hot shower sure would feel good right about now.

*******

A traffic jam? Of course! What next, a swarm of locusts, or frogs? Flaming hailstones? Is the whole world out to keep me from getting home so I can go see him? Get off at the next exit and go across the city? Jolly good idea, my good man! There's a nice, big, fat, juicy tip in it for you if you get a move on. There it is! That's the street, right there past the light. No, the first building. Yes, it is a nice neighborhood, good place to raise kids. No, no, anywhere is fine, just stop right here and I'll get out. Thank you, thank you so much, you have no idea how glad I am to be home. Have a nice day? I certainly hope so.

*******

That shower sure felt good! The bed is all made up with fresh sheets. I'll bet I could crawl in there and sleep for a whole day. I haven't really slept well since we argued. I should have told him the truth. I'm afraid to stay here by myself because I'm afraid I'll mess something up. That ivory carpet in the living room shows every little spot of dirt. I just know I'd forget and put a can of soda on the table and leave a ring. I never learned to use the coasters. He has everything just the way he likes it and I don't want to mess it up. I think I'll just lay down for a while, he won't care.

*******

The first thing I notice is the smell in the condo. The air smells damp. A scent I know like the back of my hand tickles my olfactory sense. Herbal shampoo, the cheap kind from the Dollar Store, and sweat. Ignoring the overflowing basket of mail, I drop my bag in the living room and head for the master bedroom. The smell is stronger here, like he just got out of the shower. I push the door open slowly and peek inside. My heart clenches with joy! JD is sprawled out in the middle of the bed, asleep. I can tell from the way they fit that he's wearing my pajama bottoms. As quickly and quietly as I can, I strip out of my clothing, leaving just my tee shirt and boxer shorts. I creep cautiously to the bed and light on it as carefully as I can, not wanting to wake him prematurely.

*******

It's almost as if he's really here with me! I swear that I can smell his cologne, I couldn't when I first lay down. Maybe it's my imagination, giving me a hint of my deepest desire. These pillows feel so good, I have to get him to tell me where he got them. Oh, sweet exhaustion, maybe I'll just stay all night. He won't mind, I hope. I hope I can make things right between us when he gets back.

*******

A feather light touch on his cheek, and JD's eyes pop open. His breath catches in his chest and he can't talk. A tremulous hand reaches out and cups Ezra's face, as if to be sure that he's really there. Like opposing magnets, they're drawn together. Lips meet, muffling moans of pleasure. Hands touch, pulling needy bodies closer. Finally, when they cannot physically get any closer, they are still. JD nuzzles against Ezra's jaw, reveling in the familiar scent. Ezra's fingers card through the ebony locks of hair, inhaling deeply of the smell of herbal shampoo and the unique smell that is all JD. At the same instant, they both speak.

"I'm sorry, I missed you, I love you!"

And all is right in the world again.

THE END

On to: Paint By Numbers

If you enjoyed this story, we're sure that Angie would love to hear from you.

This scene stuck in my head the first time I heard the Keith Urban song of the same name.

I woke up early this morning around 4am,
With the moon shining bright as headlights on the interstate.
I pulled the covers over my head and tried to catch some sleep,
But thoughts of us kept keeping me awake.
Ever since you found yourself in someone else's arms,
I've been trying my best to get along.
But that's OK, there's nothing left to say, but
Take your records, take your freedom,
Take your memories, I don't need'em.
Take your space and take your reasons,
but you'll think of me.
And take your cat and leave my sweater,
'Cause we have nothing left to weather.
In fact I'll feel a whole lot better,
But you'll think of me, you'll think of me.
I went out driving trying to clear my head.
I tried to sweep to all the ruins that my emotions left.
I guess I'm feeling just a little tired of this.
All the baggage that seems to still exist.
It seems the only blessing I have left to my name
Is not knowing what we could have been,
What we should have been, so
Take your records, take your freedom,
Take your memories, I don't need'em.
Take your space and take your reasons,
but you'll think of me.
And take your cat and leave my sweater,
'Cause we have nothing left to weather.
In fact I'll feel a whole lot better,
But you'll think of me.
Someday I'm gonna run across your mind.
Don't worry, I'll be fine.
I'm gonna be alright.
While you're sleeping with your pride,
Wishing I could hold you tight,
I'll be over you, and on with my life.
So take your records, take your freedom,
Take your memories, I don't need'em.
And take your cat and leave my sweater,
'Cause we have nothing left to weather.
In fact I'll feel a whole lot better,
But you'll think of me.
So take your records, take your freedom,
Take your memories, I don't need'em.
Take your space and all your reasons,
but you'll think of me.
And take your cat and leave my sweater,
'Cause we have nothing left to weather.
In fact I'll feel a whole lot better,
But you'll think of me, you'll think of me, yeah.

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