Love's Arithmetic

XIX: Compromise

The first thing Caer saw when she opened her eyes, was the ceiling in her room. The room she had been transferred to after the assault on her person. She wasn't cold, wasn't afraid, and wasn't at all worried. The second thing she saw was the tray at the foot of her bed, an empty bowl sat on it, providing an explanation as to why she wasn't hungry, but not how she had been fed. The third thing caused several simultaneous things to happen at once. Her heat lept with joy and an odd sense of peace, she felt a surge of attraction that made her toes tingle, and she once again wished they had met under other circumstances.


He was reclined in a chair, looking rather uncomfortable, his hair was tousled, as though he had run his fingers through it several times, his shirt was wrinkled and had pulled up slightly revealing a well muscled stomach. Even with his eyes closed, Caer could see the dark shadows under them, revealing that he had been up for a long time, probably with her. She felt a jolt of pleasure as she contemplated this fact. While she had no idea how long she had been unconscious, she felt it safe to assume that it had been a couple of days. Her muscles felt weak from lack of use, her back ached from staying in one position for so long.


There was something oddly heroic about a man staying by your bed. Especially after rescuing you, which would seem the more heroic act. She felt small little butterflies in her stomach as she looked at him now. He wasn't such a bad guy and he was very attractive. Caer studied his face and was so engrossed in her task that she didn't even notice when his eyes opened. "See something you like?" He asked lazily.


Caer jolted when she heard his voice. Realizing he had caught her looking at him, she blushed, embarrassed. "I-," What the hell am I supposed to say to that? She wondered desperately. "Tut mir Leid! Es ist nur, dass Sie so schön sind." That makes perfect sense! Caer told herself. In her head it did. She had called the man handsome! He should be thanking her for it!


"Could you say that in English?" Garrett asked. The language eluded him and he didn't like being left in the dark.


What do I do now? She couldn't say it in English because it would sound lame. Everything always sounded better in German, especially when the other person had no idea what she was saying. "I can't." She said simply, hoping against all hope that he would accept that, even though she knew he wouldn't. Stubborn men don't let things go, especially when they're in another language.


"You can't?" He asked as though he was speaking to a child. She nodded her head desperately, trying to keep a straight face. His expression was rather comical. "Really?" She bit her lip, trying to ignore him. It was proving to be an impossible task, but an entertaining one none the less.


Garrett shifted his weight onto the bed and Caer knew she was in trouble, she knew the look from her cousins and knew what she was in for. "Why don't you tell me what you said again." She shook her head, still biting her lip to keep from smiling. "In English please. I know you're perfectly capable." One more shake of her head did her in.


Within seconds he was upon her tickling her. After a few ruthless minutes of her laughing and telling him to stop, she gave in. He was crouched above her, his hands still on her waist. "I was looking at you because you are so handsome." She blushed again and turned her face away. His hand cupped her jaw, sending sparks through her face, and turned her to look at him.


"And you are incredibly beautiful." With that, his lips descended upon hers.





"You're not going to wait here any more?" Urma cried as Detective Crandall gave her the news. It had been hard for him to make the call, but it had been necessary. They would still continue with the case, but there was not enough funding, man power, or evidence to keep them waiting by the phone for the instructions that never came. As much as he desperately wanted to be able to stay with the family and wait for news of Caer, he had begun to assume the worst. From what her family had told him she could be a trouble maker.


It was quite possible, as much as it pained him to think about it, that she was dead because she had caused some sort of problem for them. She could also be dead because her kidnappers had discovered that she was not the woman they had intended to take. He always hated it when cases like this turned out badly. Even if it wasn't finished.


"I'm sorry. There's nothing more we can do here. We'll keep the tap on the phone lines and if anything comes through we'll go from there. We're not giving up on it, we'll find your niece," Whether she's dead or alive, he thought with growing despair. "But our time is better served looking into other areas instead of just sitting here waiting."


As he walked out the door, Crandall couldn't help but feel he was betraying Caer Ash's family, betraying her as a person. She was in the clutches of people who would probably stop at nothing to get what they wanted. When they found out she was not the woman they had originally indented the possibilities were endless. If she was alive, she was terrified, in a dark room no doubt, with little food and water. At that moment he wanted nothing more for her to be back with her family, happy, and without a care in the world.





They ate dinner together. It was a pleasant affair, out on the patio of the house. It was quiet, peaceful, and wonderful. It felt much like a first date, with the giddy feeling and the caution with her words. It took some mental reminding for Caer to remember that this was the man that initiated her kidnapping. They spoke of their lives, the silly high school experiences, the jealousies, the petty attitudes, and the brainless pranks.


"How did you get this scar?" Caer asked, touching his arm where a rather large scar resided, feeling the jolt through her arm.


"I was in a knife fight." He said calmly. From the look in his eyes, that mischievous glint that she had discovered was more prominent when he was lying. "I was taking the trash out one night and I was attacked." He smiled as he looked at her expression. Every emotion, every thought, fear, and question appeared on her face as clear as though he was reading it.


Caer was not impressed, "How did you really get it?" She asked, trying to keep a straight face and avoid looking at his lips. The lips that had smothered hers just that afternoon.


"I was taking the trash out-" Garrett started before he was rudely interrupted.


"The knife fight isn't going to cut it, I know you didn't get it from that." Caer said admonishing him for lying and trying to fool her again.


"I'm telling you the truth." He laughed. "I was taking out the trash and when I pulled it up on the lip of the can something sharp cut through the bag and onto my arm." Caer looked at Garrett for a few moments before nodding her head.


"That I believe." She laughed.


After they had finished their meal, Garrett presented a decadent chocolate desert that looked as though it could kill her. Brownies covered with chocolate ice cream, caramel drizzle, and chocolate fudge sauce. She had always had a love for chocolate, but had never been able to finish something so rich and chocolaty like this. "I don't think I'll finish this!" She cried.


"That's okay." He said, seeming more subdued. "It makes you happy though, right?" He asked, looking at her intently.


"Yes, it's wonderful!" She cried taking a bite.


"Good. That's all want, is for you to be happy."





When Caer awoke she had a small headache. The little elves are back to work in my head, she thought dryly. Opening her eyes she half expected to see Garrett somewhere near as he had walked her up to her room the night before. She had been oddly drowsy. In her head she had joked that with the chocolate and the company she had enough to make a woman die happily. Although she had a vague impression of Garrett laughing soon after she thought it.


She was startled when she found herself in her own messy apartment. Her shoes that she had never taken the time to organize were strewn all over the floor, the bra that she had purchased as a small little indulgence to make her feel sexy when she went to the smoothie bar, hoping that she could make herself seem more attractive to the Latin boy that worked the register. She saw the ridiculous mini dress she had never worn in public because if she leaned over too far you could see her underwear. The romance novels with the erotically embraced couples were piled on the night stand. Brutus, the rocking horse she had had since she was a child was still acting like a coat rack. The flat screen that she still had trouble operating hung on the wall across from the bed, still creeping her out when she saw her reflection. The Dr. Pepper cans crowded together on the other night stand as a testimonial to her addiction to caffeine, but not coffee.


Caer realized she was home. Her first initial reaction was overwhelming joy, the second, sadness. Garrett had left her here. He had not wanted her, instead he had thrown her away like the trash. She only hoped she left a scar as big as the one on his arm, on his heart.