During the Crossing (closed)

[salty_sailor]

'God, this is so dull, ' is all he could think. The rain was spitting down outside, again, and as always the dark horizon beyond the glass seemed to stretch on forever, the sky melting into the water in one single shade of only slightly varying gray. The photographer in him reflected momentarily that the lighting would make for some interesting atmospheric shots...add some drama to an otherwise dull day of shooting. He wasn't exactly sure which was more depressing...if it was the rain slashing against his windshield, or the certain knowledge that he would arrive dripping wet to an office without shower facilities to do a thankless job from which there appeared no escape. He pulled off the coastal highway and into the ferry terminal lot. He parked, locked the door and held his satchel above his head as he ran for the doors.

It was really coming down outside, he hadn't thought that there could be such rain in July, it was supposed to be the dry season. And yet here it was bucketing down. Inside, he ran a hand through his thick black hair, slicking it back momentarily before it sprang back up. He shook the water from his hand and ran it along his jaw, scratching his beard for a moment and then shrugging out of his sodden vest. He unbuttoned his shirtsleeves, and rolled them to the elbow. Then he crossed the terminal to purchased a coffee, he handed the bewildered coffee-jerk his thermos for a refill while he looked over her shoulder at the clock. 7:45, they would be loading any minute. As he moved towards the door and the loading ramp he paused at the newspaper stand, gave the man behind the counter a couple dollars and received in return The Times, which he tucked under his arm as he and the other passengers filed onto the vessel.

On board he completed a circuit of the main deck and listened as the crew barked orders to one another and the cars rolled on. He settled into a bench with a table before it near the windows facing south. He briefly looked across the harbor at the other boats and wondered where all those little sailing vessels were bound on bigger adventures than his. He sipped his coffee and flipped open the front cover of the paper, preparing to dive in.

As he scanned through the pages, he did a mental critique of all the images he came across---there was picture after picture that was poorly done, shot in foul light and wanting for composition. When he came across the picture of the mayor, face half-shielded by a briefcase, he paused to read the caption and saw that it was only an inquiry about his sex life. It seemed to him that there was always someone's closet to be digging through. This one wouldn't lend itself to any good photographs however. At that, he paused to think about the photos he had managed to capture of his boss, fucking his secretary over his big desk. A couple of those to the right people and that would wipe that smug grin off his ugly face in no time at all. He bit his bottom lip in thought, and stared blankly out over the top of his paper.

Other passengers were getting out of their cars and finding seats on the main deck, and still more were simply milling around either taking in some exercise or looking for a better seat. Their faces passed in a blur and he could feel the rumble of the engines under his seat as the ferry began to pull away from the dock. The rains still cascaded down outside. It came as somewhat of a surprise when he emerged from his hundred yard stare to find the pretty young face of a woman looking back his direct. He smiled at her in a friendly sort of way and took another pull at his coffee.

 

[heartofcourage]

God, this is so dull, is all she could think. It seemed like an endless line of taillights that led to the ferry that morning. Of course, it was probably due in large part to the rain that was currently obscuring her view through the windshield. She sighed and sat back leaned back against her warm seat, listening to the news on the radio spout more bad news for the day.

The mayoral scandal was headline news. She smiled with a humorless grin as she heard the talking heads call for him to get out of office. They bemoaned the fact that no one had seen it coming from such a clean cut and upstanding man such as him. Her office had known about it for months. She ran one of the most successful public relations firms in the city and while she was young, she did a damn good job of making people look better than they actually were.

The mayor was screwing his secretary, a young blonde eighteen year old. It was nothing new in the world of politics, but what made it interesting was the fact he was married to one of the most powerful families in the country. Yes, he was definitely screwed, literally and figuratively. She laughed softly at the irony of that as the man on the ferry waved her forward and she parked on the deck.

Stepping out of her sleek little sports car, she tied her raincoat tight around her slender waist and made sure that her black hair was still in place in the conservative bun she’d placed it in that morning. She was meeting with the mayor’s senior staff that morning to continue doing damage control. She had a plan for them that, if they followed, would ensure another election and the swing of public opinion back in his favor. She was a master at what she did.

Her heels clicked sharply across the deck as she went in search of a seat that would give her a view of the harbor. It was one of her favorite parts of taking the ferry, something she’d been doing since her college days and something she continued doing for tradition’s sake when she could have easily afforded on of those nice penthouse apartments that overlooked the city.

Sitting at a clear seat, she looked out over the water, smiling as she watched other boats hurrying too and fro. It was a pretty little picture, she thought. Nice simple pleasures were what made her life interesting. They were getting few and far between, she thought to herself as she let her hazel eyes move from the water to look at the people situated around her.

She saw a man sitting there, handsome features as he intently watched others over the top of his morning paper. She wondered what he was looking at with such interest. Then his eyes turned towards her and he smiled at her in a friendly way and took a sip from a coffee mug. She found herself smiling back in that charming sort of way that she’d carefully practiced over time.

Perhaps a simple conversation that morning would brighten her mood a little. She stood from her seat, brushing the wrinkles off her rain coat before she made her way to the man, pausing just before his seat.

“Is that seat taken?” She asked, pointing toward and empty spot just next to him.

 

[salty_sailor]

He glanced up at her somewhat startled, giving her a deer in the headlights look. It had been many a year (years, really?!) since some pretty woman had asked to sit near him. He started running through a mental checklist. 'Was I staring just then, or was I really just honestly zoning out? I hate it when someone lands in field of space-out.' The his mind flashed to his beat up volvo, to his cold and empty apartment, the dirty laundry, he wondered if he had left the sink full of dishes. Tangentially he was glad to have at least taken the dog for a run this morning. He framed her face in a photograph, instinctually choosing the angle and intensity of the lighting to match here severe hairstyle and skirt, no props and he'd have to know her better to choose a backdrop. And all that occurred to him in the blink of an eye. He blinked at her. "Uh, no," he stammered a little.

He looked down at his bag taking up the seat next to his, to his vest hanging up over the back of the seat to dry out a little, and then down again to his backpack which had begun to leave a puddle. Abashed, he swept the bag to the floor and used his vest to mop up the worst of the puddle. As he swept it onto the floor he spattered a little onto her shoes. He could feel her eyes search him as he worked, was she quietly judging him? How was it that he could feel her looking right through him. What had become of that cool collected war correspondent...that wasn't so long ago, was it? Absentmindedly he ran his fingers through his hair again and looked up at her.

"Seat's all yours. Sorry for the mess. Though your jacket looks a little more water resistant than my camera bag was. Hell of a storm out there." He picked up his paper again intent on hiding behind it when he noticed that she was still looking at him. He looked down at the newspaper across his knees, headlining with the mayor, he shrugged his shoulders, trying to relax them and rolling them back and down. Perhaps strangers don't have to be scary. As she sat next to him, he glanced out the window while she started to settle in, then back to the paper. "This guy is so screwed, right? I'm glad to think that I've outclassed most 18 year old's by now... Age brings wisdom right? Or so we are meant to think," he said, flicking the face of the mayor with his forefinger. 'God, did I just imply that she was old? Idiot'. He shook his head.

 

[heartofcourage]

She smiled at him as she watched the hopelessly confused look on his face as he looked around them for a moment before responding. She found it charmingly clumsy the way he hoped to clear off the seat and wipe the puddle of rainwater that had been left behind by his backpack.

Water splashed off the seat onto the tips of her expensive heels, but she only laughed softly. Watching him intently, she tried to figure out what he did for a living. A little unkept, a little nervous…perhaps an artist of some kind? He had that kind of air around him, but in a nice way. His dark hair was tousled by his fingers, giving him a boyish look.

“Thank you.” She said as she smoothed her raincoat over her black skirt and sat down, glancing over at him as he stammered on about his camera bag. A photographer? She thought to herself with a dark raised eyebrow. Well, that was certainly interesting. She loved photography and had always wanted to take a class on it should she ever find any free time…which she never seemed to be able to do.

She couldn’t help the small chuckle that left her lips as he suddenly looked back down to the newspaper in his lap as if it could hide him from her. She turned her gaze back out to the water as the rain continued to fall in harsh torrents outside. She pulled out her phone, mindlessly scanning though emails that would be added to the schedule. Major stars with major problems, pro athletes that needed some good press, and of course, their illustrious mayor.

Fate seemed to be playing tricks on her that day as the man beside her suddenly began to talk about the front page news story, his fingers flicking the face of the mayor as he talked about his opinion on the matter. She smiled at him as he suddenly stopped, his thoughts turning introspective with a panicked look in his eyes as he shook his head.

“Well, I’ve certainly learned quite a bit about life since I was 18.” She finally spoke, the smile on her face showing him that there were no hard feelings. “As for him,” she pointed to the photograph, “He might be screwed but it’ll be interesting to see how they try to spin it.”

Of course she already knew which direct the scandal was going to spin. It was carefully crafted down the last detail. He would apologize publicly, dismiss the secretary and pay her hush money, play the devoted husband to a rightfully pissed off wife, get back in the public good graces through popular public works, and get reelected to another term in office.

“I’m Amanda.” She said, extending her hand towards the gentleman beside her.

 

[salty_sailor]

"I'm Christian," he said, finally finding his voice and extending his hand to shake hers, turning half sideways so that he could even slightly face her. She wasn't the skinny little centerfold minx that all the magazine covers at the news stand told him he ought to prefer, but that aside, he had to admire the allure that was all her own. She had an appeal there in her mildly pouting lips, the curve of her hip and tilt of her head that denoted confidence and self assuredness.

It was usually squinting through a viewfinder that he had encountered confident, gorgeous people and just then he had to dodge the kneejerk reaction that had his hand almost automatically stretching out towards his camera bag. Looking up into her face, he smiled at her, an exercise that his jaw and lips seemed rarely to encounter these days. "You know, it almost doesn't even matter how they (whosoever this mysterious 'they' is) spin the story. The public is so fed up with politicians fucking their staff (damn, I just swore in front of a beautiful stranger) that this will blow over in a couple of weeks. He might even get reelected despite his faux pas. I don't know that I'm a particularly keen political observer, but I've certainly seen enough of this type of story unfold, and this will be old news in three days time. Either way, I wasn't there to catch any pictures, so my editor is likely to hang me."

He was self conscious then, knowing that in some circles, discussing politics was a forbidden fruit. 'Ah, to hell with it---too late now anyhow'. Shyly he glanced down at her exposed and stockinged knee, then more self consciously he looked away. He stared out over the water, the rain still sheeting across the glass, the horizon still lost in fog. He looked at his watch, a nervous tic, and guessed that they might be a quarter of the way across already. There was a part of him that hoped that given enough of a silence she would lose interest and start ignoring him...but there was another part of him that was clawing desperately through his imagination for a thread of conversation to keep her attention on him---on him and his sodden clothing, his rumpled trousers, his scuffed shoes. 'Damn, who am I kidding?'

 

[heartofcourage]

Amanda shook his hand and couldn’t help but laugh at his brutal honesty. It was refreshing to hear someone tell her what they really thought, no matter that he seemed extremely self conscious sitting next to her.

She noticed his rumpled pants, his scuffed shoes, the wrinkled appearance of his shirt. A bachelor, she guessed even before she noticed no wedding band. She thought Christian was charming in that awkward way that some men had. Perhaps they were geeks and nerds in a former life, but they always had the potential to grow into something more.

“You know, those are my sentiments exactly about the whole situation. In time, no one will even remember what happened in his office late at night.” She laughed softly at the look that Christian gave her. “Better to focus on the future.”

The conversation hit a natural wall, stopping dead as he seemed to not be able to settle down. He was looking everywhere all at once. The window across the way, her shoes, his watch, his own shoes, anything to not look directly at her. She dared to lean closer, her fingers reaching out to touch his forearm lightly.

“I’ve always had a thing for photography. There’s something so simplistically beautiful about it. I’ve always wanted to learn to take the same beautiful shots I see in magazines but I’ve never found the time.” She was bringing the conversation back to something he was comfortable with, willing him to actually look her in the eye. “Was it hard to get the hang of?”

She gave him a warm smile when he finally did look up, her fingers lingering on his arm as she saw the shocked look in his eye. Yes, she was taking an interest in something that he obviously had a passion for. Why should that be so startling?

 

[salty_sailor]

Was she honestly amused, or simply reciting some performance by rote? Perhaps he was still a little shell shocked from the divorce. It had all been going so well it had seemed. Though perhaps it was the excitement of being overseas in volatile situations that had given rise to their coupling. Whatever it had been, it was a hell of a ride...one that was long over. And yet, he heard genuine interest in her voice as she said: "I've always had a thing for photography." When she leaned in closer and touched his arm, he was staring at the end of a long dark tunnel. he looked up into her face, locking his deep blue eyes on hers.

"Photography? Well, when I was in college, I was told by a professor that I had a natural eye. We got on pretty well," he said, indicating the camera in his backpack with a pat. "After a time and some more thinking about things, I decided that's what I wanted to do. I loved the art, the composition, the play of light and shadow, even the late nights in the darkroom were engaging to me...perfecting some work. Pretty soon I was believing that National Geographic would want nothing more than to pay me to travel around taking pictures. And in part, I was right, and I did do some traveling. In the end though, a newspaper gig was what would pay closer to home,' he said, indicating the newsprint in his lap. "Perhaps it's the cynic in me, but no one wants to pay you to make art these days. With the readily available technology out there, everyone thinks they have what it takes to be a photographer...so no, photography is easy. It's the marketing that's the hard part. I still do projects that are just for me though." He smiled at her then, eyes lingering on her face, briefly trailing down her body and crisp rainsuit and back to her face, looking for a reaction, that stirring of emotion or interest that he had just glimpsed.

 

[heartofcourage]

She smiled back at him as he described his work and she couldn’t help but see the spark in his eyes. “It’s always nice to have such an intense passion in your life.” She said in a sincere voice, the touch on his arm growing a bit more sure as he relaxed.

She turned her body towards him, crossing her legs at the knee as she gave him her undivided attention. What had been a passing fancy to speak to someone to pass time was turning into an interesting conversation. She could only imagine the things that he’d seen and experienced in his life.

“I would love to see some of your work. I work in marketing.” She realized that she had left her business card in her car, but made a mental note to have him write down the information. “I’m always looking for talent to help promote. If you’re as passionate about it as you say you are, it would be easy to get your name out there.”

She laughed softly under her breath, a soft smoky sound issuing forth. “Besides, it sounds like there’s no love lost between your current employer and yourself.”

Amanda couldn’t help but notice the way that his eyes were constantly looking over her, taking in her appearance or perhaps trying to gage if she were sincere. When she caught his eyes once more, she gave him a smile, her full red lips tilting upwards at the edges as she leaned in a little bit closer.

“What do you see when you look at me?” She asked in a soft whisper, truly interested in what he had to say.

 

[salty_sailor]

"Damn," was what his head was screaming. "Don't do it!"

Outwardly though, he tried to maintain what composure he had. "Whoa, you went deep..." a touch of sarcasm in his voice. "Let's ask the photographer what he sees in me...' How droll. Sure I could make something up but it likely wouldn't be very accurate, nor genuine. Iit comes to this: how honest would you like me to be? How candid do you take your random people on public transit? Ordinarily, when I see a homeless guy on the bus who's talking to himself, my preference is that he keeps right on holding that internal dialogue, and doesn't draw me in." He was starting to ramble, and he knew it. "I haven't scared you off so far, so I can tell that you are genuinely intrigued." He cupped his chin in his hand. He went on to summarize her clothing: the designer shoes, the chic rain jacket over a slim and subtly matching skirt, the severe bun. "It's a mask...just like the makeup you wear, your outward demeanor is something that you don't necessarily ascribe to, but like me putting on a pair of trousers in the morning, you put on this persona." He was kicking himself then. "The simple fact that you asked tells me that you are seeking approval, though perhaps not from me...but the world at large. Marketing? Your biggest customer is yourself. But there is a genuine person, who is looking to get out of that persona, someone who likes adventure and photography, and dream about escaping the rat race to something simpler." He paused then. "Sorry, was that too deep? I thought you wanted honest," he finished, somewhat sheepishly. "I guess I got all that from a pair of shoes, some red lipstick...and the fact that everyone I've ever talked to thinks the same way. They think about the romanticism of an artist, almost creating a new bohemian version of themselves in the course of a conversation." He tapered off then. And looking into her eyes once more, searching her face, he asked simply: "so how close was I?"

Through the steamed up glass he could just make out the faint outlines of the glass and steel skyscrapers of downtown.

"We are now arriving at our destination. Please take a few moments to look around your person and collect your belongings. Drivers and passengers please return to your vehicles at this time."

That, miss, was the sound of the buzzer and your get out of jail free card. It was good to talk to you though. If you're a regular commuter, which I assume you are, perhaps I'll see you again sometime. Maybe we can talk photos and launching my artistic career. He finished with a cynical laugh and began folding up that paper that still rested across his knees.

 

[heartofcourage]

Amanda’s smile slowly fell from her face as Christian talked. Man, this guy was a cynical asshole, she thought to herself as she rambled on about what he perceived about her. Well, she had asked and so far, he was pretty accurate. While the rush of her job had a certain appeal to it, it was slowly wearing her down. All the money in the world couldn’t buy happiness as the old adage went…and it was true.

“I would say you’re pretty close to the truth.” She admitted as the voice overhead announced that they were arriving at the destination.

Something in her was disappointed that this first meeting was ending so soon. It meant that she would have to go climb into her car, drive to her firm, and be stuck in endless meetings deep within the asphalt jungle of the city. She knew how it would go. It was just like every other day. She would have plans to perhaps get an early dinner, go home to her empty house, maybe a jog…but all of that would be dashed by a last minute crisis that would demand her attentions well past midnight.

She was shaken out of her musings as he began talking again, that cynical laugh grating on her nerves. It was a shield, she knew. Something in his past had damaged him enough that he used it to deflect what made him uncomfortable. Such a sad way to live a life.

She stood from her seat, smoothing out the wrinkles in her coat once more and was about to walk away when she stopped. She turned and looked at Christian as he folded his paper so carefully, desperately trying not to look at her. She smiled slightly as an idea came to her mind.

Leaning across the little table before him, she placed her hand against his cheek, bringing his eyes up to look at her. Then, she leaned in and kissed him. His beard scratched her cheeks, but his lips were warm and inviting. She let out a sigh as she pulled away, giving him a grin as he looked at her like a deer in the headlights of an oncoming semi.

“There. Now we have that awkward first stage out of the way. Maybe you can drop that cynical asshole act of yours. It’s certainly not your style.” She said as she straightened back up. “See you next time.”

With that, she turned and left him sitting there…stunned.

 

[salty_sailor]

Her lips were soft yet firm, pliable and without a doubt in control and when they closed on his he was absolutely flabbergasted. He was sure that she would be storming off and back to her car at any moment, sure that her abruptly rising from the chair meant that he had pissed her off. And yet, there was sadness in her eyes when he had gone on to detail her unfilled wants and needs. He knew that it was totally a stab in the dark, but by her look and they way she had been affected he had to have been close to the mark. He closed his eyes as her lips pressed into his, caressed his momentarily, and then broke away. He was left blinking, his mouth hanging open as she walked away down the aisle. He shook his head, and had to admit that the retreating view of her was nothing to complain about.

As he gathered up his things, throwing on his vest, which was now somewhat dryer and slinging his backpack across his shoulders, he wondered if he really would ever see her again. The city was a big place, and despite commuting every day, he only rarely even recognized a handful of faces. He tried to recall if hers was one.

He paused before stepping out from under the overhanging roof of the terminal, watching the torrents of water flooding down the street, overwhelming the sewer drains. 'This is July?, he wondered to himself, and just for good measure he snapped a couple of pictures. Hardening himself against the inevitable onslaught of water, he stepped bravely out into the crosswalk. 10 minutes later he was riffling through his office closet for something dry to change into, a smile on his face. It had been a hell of a morning.

 

[heartofcourage]

The day had progressed much as she had expected. Nothing had topped her surprising morning, but some things had certainly come close. She had sat in endless meetings with the mayor’s office, listening to his aides explain that he wasn’t comfortable with some aspects of the plan she had set out. It was a political tug of war, one which left her drained and worn down.

Surprisingly enough, she got out of her office before the sunset. It was a minor miracle on a day when she could have really used one. She hadn’t been able to shake the words that Christian had used to describe his observation of her life on the ferry. It left her wanting to change and explore a little more.

She started by daring to change out of her designer clothes before she left the office. Peeling off her black outfit and slipping into the jeans she’d stowed into an overnight bag just in case had her sighing in relief. Her feet freed from the high heels and slipped into a pair of leather sandals was just icing on the cake. The rain hadn’t stopped outside, but simply changing her clothing had done wonders for her mood. She felt more like herself as she let her hair down from the confines of the bun she’d placed it in that morning, her long tresses curling about her shoulders as she appraised herself in the mirror of her car. Definitely much better.

The traffic onto the ferry this time of day wasn’t as bad as the morning commute had been and this time she kept the radio turned to her favorite station instead of the gloom and doom of the local news. She didn’t need to hear anymore bad news until tomorrow at the very least.

Exiting the sleek sports car feeling like a new woman, she walked up on deck, looking around in hopes of spotting a familiar face. She sighed softly to herself when Christian’s messy appearance didn’t immediately jump out at her. She noticed the spot she’d sat at that morning was empty and after buying a cup of coffee and a photography magazine, she sat at the little table and settled in for the trip home.

 

[salty_sailor]

He looked at his watch as the ferry pulled into the dock, it read 10:40. It was late for him to be heading home, but sometimes, he assured himself, you really just have to let your hair down. He smiled a little ruefully, knowing that it would likely be almost midnight by the time he reached home. Rondeaux, his black lab, would be thrilled to see him, and would likely have spent all evening going in and out od the back door looking for his car in the drive...that is if he hadn't decided to eat the couch instead.

He had gotten the call just as he had been getting ready to leave the office. Some friends were in town and wanted to get together for a couple drinks. As he was shutting his phone is when his boss had come in, adding yet another task to his litany of mindless photo edits and page formatting that had filled his day. So it was with regret that he had called back his friends, postponed by a couple hours and sat down to his laptop once again. Later that evening, a couple drinks had easily turned into a few and a few had turned into a blur. So it was on slightly unsteady feet that he waited to board the ferry home.

He sobered slightly when remembering the morning, the last time he'd been aboard. Unable to sit immediately, he did a round of the main deck, walking unsteadily and pausing from time to time to look around at the other passengers. More than a few gave him distrusting looks and so it was that he went out to the rail over the bow and leaned against it, squinting into the wind and looking forward to collapsing into his bed.

 

[heartofcourage]

Amanda was reading an article when she glanced up and saw a familiar figure walking by rather unsteadily on his feet. She watched as he paused, looked around at the others on the deck before shambling on his way. She smiled to herself as she thought that he looked a little drunk. Throwing away her coffee, she tucked the magazine beneath her arm and stood to follow him.

He was stumbling, very obviously drunk beyond his capacity. The wind whipped her loose hair around her shoulders as she watched him lean against the railing at the bow, staring into the darkness. He seemed preoccupied with something, but she still couldn’t help herself from at least saying hello.

“Well, fancy seeing you, stranger.” She said as she leaned against the railing next to him, the stink of alcohol clinging to him like a second skin. “Rough day?”

She tucked a strand of her long black hair behind her ear, grinning at the startled look that he gave her. The odds that they were on the same ferry yet again were astronomical, but she wasn’t one to really ask fate why.

 

[salty_sailor]

He almost didn't recognize her, almost. She was a changed woman from the whom he had shared a seat with earlier that morning. The jeans, hugging her curves in a pretty phenomenal manner, the sandals on her feet, the loose blouse and hair flapping in the breeze...and that smile on her face. That smile, it was her alright.

He knew that he was in no fit state to be meeting anyone that he knew, let alone this fabulous woman that had no right whatsoever being interested in him. Suddenly he found himself standing up a little straighter, and three of those scotch were blown away on the wind. He could only imagine, even if a little hazily, what she might be thinking just now.

He turned to look at her, putting on a friendly smile, hoping that she had forgotten most of their conversation from the morning's crossing. "Back for more punishment are we?" He knew that he would be reminding her, but by poking fun at himself, he hoped to smooth things over a little. Had she really kissed him this morning?"Aren't you out past your bedtime? I know that it is way past mine!" The rain had mostly gone, but bits of mist swirled around them, illuminated by the vessel's running lights and shrouding the remainder of the world beyond their small circle of light.

 

[heartofcourage]

She laughed at the way he stood a little bit straighter when he recognized her, his eyes a little bit clearer and his smile a little bit brighter. She knew that he was running over the conversation that they had that morning and he was probably kicking himself over it, but honestly she really didn’t care what he’d said. It was harsh but it was true. She liked that honesty.

“I seem to be a glutton for punishment.” She grinned at him as he poked fun at her in that cynical way. At least with a little liquor in him he seemed to loosen up. “Yeah, well, all the good things seem to happen after my bedtime.”

She leaned back against the rails, watching as the lights played on the mist that was swirling around them. It was almost surreal the way that it played through the air, shrouding them in a bit of solitude in the middle of the bay.

“I wanted to say thank you for this morning.” She said, reaching out to touch his arm once again. “It’s been a long time since someone had been brutally honest with me but it was a much needed wake up call. Look, I even decided to take a look at a hobby.” She pulled out the photography magazine to show him what had pulled her interest that evening.

The way he stared at her she wondered if he was still thinking about the kiss that she’d given him that morning. In a weird way, it was the one thing she couldn’t get off her mind.

 

[salty_sailor]

He snatched the magazine from her fingers and casually flipped through it. He questioned her choice of publication, nodding when he heard that the newsstand proprietor had recommended it. he went on to list another couple of prints that she should pick up, places that spend far less time proselytizing about the gadgetry she ought to buy and focus more on technique. Though he warned that she would likely have to look up a specialty shop in order to lay her hands on them. Handing the magazine back to her and watching her tuck it away he smiled wryly. "I truly hope that this is something positive for you. If not a new leave, then a happy diversion." He smiled then and joked, "and when you're living in a studio loft apartment, sitting on the floor with a stack of rejection letters, wondering where your life went wrong, I hope you'll forgive me," he said chuckling.

He leaned back against the rail, facing away from the onrushing wind. As the small of his back settled against the metal tubing he crossed his arms against his chest, and ever so gently leaned his shoulder against hers. "Now I've been standing here for 10 or 15 minutes now, just looking at this fog, this swirling mist. I'm not just looking at it, I'm trying to get to know it, to get to understand it, and how it would like to be portrayed in a photograph. That's my first rule of photography. Get to know your subject. I was caught a little off guard when you asked what I saw in you, probably for that simple fact...I didn't know you yet." The moisture that had condensed in his hair finally beaded up and ran in a tiny rivulet down his forehead and cheek, disappearing into his beard. "So how would you shoot water? Simple droplets suspended in air...see the patterns?" He watched her for a moment struggling for a cohesive answer and realized that he had put her on the spot and that her marketing background wasn't going to offer up a simple answer when asked for an honest thought.

As they stood there chatting amiably, he could feel himself getting a little more comfortable with her, unwinding just a little bit. Perhaps it was the liquor talking, but he couldn't avoid the feeling. "Ok," he began. "Now it's your turn. Enough of mist...what do you see when you look at me. And yes, you can take that as a sign that I'm seeking approval, of you at the very least."

 

[heartofcourage]

Amanda laughed at Christian’s dry humor. He was so much more charming when he wasn’t being cynical.

“I hate to tell you this, but I think my studio apartment days are over. I was thinking more of taking pictures when I hike. I like to drive outside of the city and go on the trails. There’s always beautiful scenery there and I always seem to forget my camera.”

She watched as he leaned back against the railing of the deck, facing away from the wind as he looked up at the fog around them. She felt the gentle pressure of his shoulder against hers and it made her smile just a bit wider. He certainly knew what he was talking about when it came to photography and she found that she could lose herself in the descriptions that he gave.

She tried her best to answer his questions, but the fact of the matter was that she had no idea how to shook water. She didn’t know what the right thing to say was, but Amanda had never let that stop her. She gave him what seemed to her logical answers and accepted his criticism as a lesson.

The water around them had begun to collect in her hair, making it shine in the low light. She could feel water gathering on her cheeks and neck, a small trail coursing over her skin as a droplet formed on her jaw. It was a refreshing feeling on what could have been a muggy night.

“What do I see when I look at you? Hmmm…” She crossed her arms over her chest and considered him for a moment. She could return his favor from that morning and give him a brutally honest opinion, but she decided not to. She would let him know just what she saw in him.

“I see a handsome man who intrigues me very much. I also see a man who must have lived an exciting life before you settled here in the city. You wear your hopes and dreams on your sleeve, but you protect yourself because you’ve been hurt. You’re a bachelor from the way your clothing looks, but the way you act around me tells me that perhaps you’ve been married. She broke your heart, didn’t she, and not in a nice way.”

She uncurled her arms and reached out to touch his cheek, smiling up at him as she continued talking.

“I see that you are uncertain about me but I think you’re as intrigued as I am. You just won’t make the first move. Which means that I’ll have to.”

With that, she stood on her toes and kissed him again, something that she’d been thinking about all day. Her hand cupped his cheek, her fingers tangling in his beard as she took what she’d wanted since she’d first done it that morning.

 

[salty_sailor]

As he took the lumps, he gave a little sideways smile, knowing that she was right. He kept up his end of the conversation, admitting that he too had started taking pictures simply by toting along his camera to the mountains or the seaside to capture some memories. That was a long time ago, he reflected. He remembered the weight and heft, the solidity of his grandfather's camera, a pre-WWII Pentax that had been handed down. He'd chased cats with it, done portraits of hi first girlfriends, and taken it along to college. He smiled to himself, thinking of the soulless digital pro that was his pride and joy as well as his ball and chain.

Suddenly he was jarred from his thoughts when the woman before him, cupping his cheeks with her hands, pressed her lips to his. It came as more than half a surprise, in the darkness of near midnight, in the swirling mist and cloth damp condensation. Still self conscious, and a little tipsy he felt at a loss, but fireworks exploded in his head, and suddenly he knew that he wanted this woman. His lips responded to hers and he wrapped his arms around her waist. His lips opened slightly, allowing a gasp of excitement to escape.
As thier lips parted, he could hear the engines slowing to an idle, feeling the vibrations through the deck. He knew that they had reached their destination.

 

[heartofcourage]

Amanda sighed softly when she felt Christian’s arms wrap around her waist, pulling her closer as he began to respond to her kiss. She didn’t really know why she was so intrigued by the stranger in front of her, but she found herself wanting to do all manner of wild things with him

When his lips opened and she heard his gasp of excitement, she shivered and moaned, her arms moving to wrap around his neck and pull him closer. She kissed him once more until she felt the idle of the engines and the docking of the boat.

Pulling away from the kiss, she gave him a small smile, her arms still wrapped around him as she pressed her body against his warmth. “I want you to know I don’t normally do this with strange men I meet on this ferry.” Her smile widened a bit, a twinkle of humor in her eyes. “You’re the first.”

As the announcement was made to return to the vehicles, she sighed and reluctantly let him gone, her hand reaching out to touch his as she tried to gage whether he was fit to drive or not. “You okay to get home? I can give you a lift if you want.”

 

[salty_sailor]

"That kiss was enough to sober me up for sure," he says, still holding her against his body and lingering in her touch. "Of course, that being said, I'm probably just tipsy enough to let you take me home whether I need it or not. So I guess, in some ways, it's up to you."

He pauses then for a moment's thought and then his mind flashes through his empty apartment, the mess there...the piles of trousers of which the rumpled pair he was wearing were the most presentable of those laying scattered about. His mind was already racing down the mental checklist of things he wanted to accomplish before a woman such as her was within a half mile of his place.

He let his arms slip from her sides; ran a hand through his damp and glistening hair. He squinted up through the fog into the lights of the boat and then looked back into her face. "No, I am feeling well enough to make it on my own...thanks for the offer though. It was very kind." With that, he turned and started to make his way to the offloading ramp that was down the flight of steps behind them. He looked over his shoulder at her and cracked a smile in her direction as his foot found the first of the steps leading downward.

 

[heartofcourage]

A smile crossed her lips when he said that the kiss was enough to sober him up. He still seemed a little tipsy, perhaps a little more than tipsy, but if he said he was good to go, who was she to stop him? Then he mentioned that she should take him home and she laughed softly.

What kind of home did Christian have, she wondered. What kind of life did he lead? Was he as lonely and unfulfilled as she was? He was certainly cynical enough to be like her, but she saw a kindness hidden deep beneath the surface that made her incredibly interested in who he was.

Then, it was like a storm cloud passed over his life, and he was suddenly telling her that he was well enough to make it His arms slid from her sides and he was moving towards the loading ramp, looking back at her as he started to exit the deck.

She followed after him, touching his arm before he left. She leaned forward when he turned and kissed him one more time, a smile on her face at the startled expression on his face.

“One more for the road.” She said with a grin as they parted. She took his hand and pulled a pen from her pocket, writing her cell number on the back of his hand. “Call me when you get home so I know you’re alright. If you wreck, I don’t think I would ever forgive myself.”

When she had done that, she left him finally and made her way to her own car, sitting in the darkness as the other cars disembarked and grinned at her forwardness. It felt great to be going after what she wanted.

 

[salty_sailor]

Out on the landing, the mist continued to fall, though it had backed off quite a bit from the steady sheets of rain from earlier. The cooling drops of water on his face, clinging to the hairs of his arms, felt comforting somehow. "Well, I guess this is it...I've aclimated to the northwest," he said outloud to no one, looking down at his glistening arm. It was entirely likely that more than one of his fellow passengers gave him a sideways glance as he walked down the ramp.

Through the terminal and out into the lot, he looked around for the volvo, never seeming to be able to remember exactly where he'd left it... A minute later he was leaning against the driver's side door, keys hanging from the lock beside his hip. He looked back over the ferry, to where the cars were still unloading. He wondered which one was her.

When he turned back to the car door, he wiped a hand across the glass and studied the reflection lit up by the street light for a moment. 'What could she possibly see?' He knew he had a lot of ghosts, and some clutter in his personal life that needed sorting out. 'Would all of that get in the way of something that holds so much intrigue?'

He put his hand back to the keys in the door, turned and dropped into the seat. 20 minutes later he was still in the car, though he was no in his drive. He wasn't totally clear on the intervening time, but he was glad to be home. He went inside, dropped his bag by the door and went to the kitchen for a glass of water. Setting the empty glass down, he pulled out his phone, leaned back against the counter and squinted at the numbers scrawled across the back of his hand. He started punching the numbers into his cell.

 

[heartofcourage]

Amanda pulled her sleek black car off the ferry and onto the street, the thick mist covering her window until she was forced to turn on her wipers. She glanced towards the parking lot where some commuters left their vehicles and tried to peer through the gloom to see if she could spot Christian. Either he had already beat a hasty retreat or the fog had swallowed him. She hoped he would be alright out there on his own.

Once she was out on the road, she smoothly shifted between gears, taking her familiar route home with nothing eventful happening along the way. It was the same old boring drive down tree covered roads until she pulled into a nice neighborhood that just seemed too safe and tame any longer.

She pulled in front of her home and got out, sighing as she entered into the cool emptiness of her living room. Placing her things away, she walked into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of wine, relaxing in front of the television to watch reruns of some old show.

She was nearly asleep on the sofa when her phone rang, startling her. She reached over and fumbled with it, expecting some sort of emergency from her assistants. She frowned when she didn’t recognize the number. Then she remembered that she’d given Christian her number and told him to call her when he got him. She had a smile on her face as she pressed the button to answer.

“Hello?”

 

[salty_sailor]

It took him the barest of moments to respond. Perhaps he was hoping that she wouldn't answer, that she would already be asleep...it was god-awful late already. All he wanted to do was sleep. He looked around his apartment, braced himself against the edge of the counter. He knew that by calling her he had made some sort of contract with her. He wasn't sure what it all meant, since he had been too muzzy to read the fine print. He knew that she now had his number.

'Oh she has my number alright...'

He knew that if he hadn't called there would be hell to pay in the morning when he imagined they would meet again. 'Imagined...or hoped?'

"Uh...hey. It's Christian. I just wanted to let you know I made it home safe. Ah...and. Yeah, thanks for looking out."