Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. Future's Path By Aimless Ramblings Copyright 2007 by Aimless Ramblings Chapter 2 Dreamscape. The viewing is one which Elena has seen before. Only once, three days ago, but it is unique in several respects. It is the first vision in which she's actually seen herself. The hair, the face, the pink bathing suit she's wearing, everything the same as today. This alone would have ordinarily been enough to rivet her attention--like having a twin sister, albeit one who's forever out of reach--but Gavin is there as well. A thrill runs through her as she watches. She's seen him countless times over the past several months, but never here. Never until three days ago as part of her own life. They are standing next to the open window of her upstairs bedroom, looking down into the back yard. His expression is... What? Excited, worried? Turning, he takes her face in his hands. Amazing; what has she done which makes him look at her like that? He leans forward, his hands caressing down her neck and back until she's being held in his arms, and they kiss. Elena shudders, both exhilarated and agonized. She's taking a terrible risk. What if the events she's watching don't happen today? It's taken months of viewings just to meet him. Can they have come so far in such a short time? There's a thump from downstairs, and then two small voices in unison, "Elena?" Gavin pulls back, and her doppelganger giggles. "It's okay," she says, smiling at him, and then turning to look directly at Elena. "Everything will be fine." --- "Welcome back," Gavin says, smiling up at her. "You went away there for a minute." He's sitting down and leaning against one of the trees in her front yard, still looking a bit dazed. "I'm the one who should have a concussion, not you." "Oh, sorry," she apologizes, "just wondering whether we should go inside and get you cleaned up, or start looking for your dog. I don't think Mr. Perez will like it if his cat gets eaten." She bends down and begins surveying his various scrapes and bruises. "Dog?" he gives her a deadpan look. "I don't have a dog. Did you see me with a dog? No, I'm just a really bad bike rider. I vote for going inside." "Now, that I believe," she murmurs, touching the bandage above his eye. "Are you always this accident-prone?" He shrugs, "Not always. Hey, this Mr. Perez, he wouldn't happen to have gray hair and be, h'm, about 5'10", would he?" She straightens, turns, and sees Ramon Perez walking across the street, trailed by Gavin's German shepherd. "Hello, Elena. Is this your friend's dog?" Gavin stands, and steps out from behind her. "Yes sir, that's Mac. Is your cat all right?" Ramon examines Gavin for a moment, glances at Elena, and then hands him the leash. "Barnabus is fine," he says. "Our back gate must've been open. Your dog chased him inside, and Barnabus decided to jump on top of the grill to get away from him. I had just turned on the gas and fired it up, so the lid probably wasn't that hot yet." His eyes crinkle at the sides. "Serves him right, I expect he was teasing your dog. But yeah, he's okay. Doesn't look like the same can be said for you though." He nods at Gavin's bike, still lying in the middle of the street. "He pull you off when he saw Barnabus?" "Just about," Gavin answers. I'm sorry; I didn't even see your cat until Mac had gotten loose." "No," Ramon glances at Elena again, "I expect you were looking somewhere else." Gavin grins, tries to hide it when he sees she's looking, and then winks at her instead. "Well, thank you for bringing him back." "No problem," Ramon answers, "maybe it'll teach that lard bucket cat some humility." He turns, and begins crossing the street. "Tell your Dad not to be such a stranger, Elena. I haven't seen him for a couple of weeks." "Well, okay Mr. P, but he's kinda been grounded," Elena says. "Grounded?" Ramon swivels at the far curb to face her, both eyebrows raised. "Yeah." "He not make it home in time for curfew last time, or what?" "Oh, no sir, he made it home all right." "Well, what then?" She lowers her voice conspiratorially. "In my parent's bedroom, you know how the doors to the bathroom and closet are right next to each other?" "I'll take your word for it," he answers, looking uncomfortable. "He, um, confused one for the other," she tells him. His response is immediate. "Poor Bastard." His eyes jerk up to meet hers and see she's smiling. "Sorry." She waves away the apology. "Nah, you're right. He's been in the doghouse ever since. Today, the appeasement strategy is a Disney movie." "Okay," he again turns towards his house. "Too bad, he's good company." "Hey, Mom can't stay mad at him forever, right?" Ramon chuckles and glances back over his shoulder. "No, but if she's anything like my wife, he'll never be allowed to forget it." The idea seems to please him for some reason, and disappearing around the corner of his house, he laughs again. Switching Mac's leash to his left hand, Gavin offers her his right. "Pleased to meet you, Elena. My name's Gavin." She takes the offered hand, shakes it, and resists the urge to pull him against her. The vision of a few moments before has left her emotions in turmoil, and the encounter with Mr. Perez only frustrates her further. She desperately wants to springboard passed this introductory phase. She needs no introduction--the past few months have been nothing but prelude--but, of course, that's not possible. "Yeah, I guess we sorta skipped that part. Nice to meet you." His brown eyes meet her blue ones, and they both stand still for a moment, holding hands. Gavin's eyes are the first to break contact, sliding down to the front of her bathing suit, and then twitching guiltily away. 'Good.' "You want to come inside and clean up a little bit? I can see if I have a band-aid that matches the one on your head." His eyes come back from where they've been hiding, and she can tell he's nervous. "I, uh, don't want to get you in trouble with your parents. Mac already tried to grill your neighbor's cat." "Nothing to worry about," she says, bending to scratch Mac behind the ears, "my parents aren't home." Mac's gaze is almost as appreciative as Gavin's, and his tail begins to slowly wag. "Mac can't come inside, but I'll get him some water, and he can hang out in the back yard." She looks up at Gavin through the hair which has fallen around her face. Searching out his eyes, she offers him a soft smile. "Deal?" --- Gavin discovers his outside assessment had been right; Elena's house is much larger than the one his father has purchased. The front hallway has arched openings leading to rooms on either side, what looks like a home office or study behind a pair of French doors, an art nook with a three-tiered painting that catches his interest for a moment, finally ending in a living room which has a wall of ceiling high windows overlooking the back yard. He is surprised that, while the furniture he sees is certainly expensive and also arranged tastefully, the room has a lived in look, saving it from resembling a hotel lobby. Elena's hand is resting lightly on his back, and she steers him towards the foot of the staircase running along the opposite wall from the row of windows. "No bleeding on Mom's leather furniture," she says with mock ferocity, "we can hang out in the playroom while you get cleaned up." Gavin can't believe what's happening. He starts the day by almost killing himself in the garage, finds his father sunbathing on the roof, gets lost, and tops it all off by making a spectacular fool of himself in front of a pretty girl. A girl who now seems intent on... Is he reading too much into how she looks at him? They've only just met, and yet she seems perfectly happy, eager even, to invite him inside her house. Either he's about to have the time of his life, or he's in way over his head. Both? The playroom upstairs is much less formal than the living room. There's an air hockey table to one side; the biggest mirror he's ever seen in one corner; a wooden table covered with puzzles, cards, and other detritus; a wet bar; and a bright red round couch with pillows. "Your decorator when a little nuts in here, huh?" He seems to have caught her daydreaming again, and is about to repeat himself when she answers. "H'm, I guess so," she muses, looking around her. "Mom said she wanted a place where we could all relax and unwind. A place we don't have to worry about cleaning when we're done playing games. My sisters would probably spend all their time up here if they could." She guides him to the round couch, and he sits down on the edge. "How many sibs do you have?" She grins down at him; apparently back from wherever she had been a moment before. "Don't worry, no older brothers. Two kid sisters, Kate and Anna. They're seven and nine. Then there's me," pointing a slender finger at her chest, "just turned fourteen." She gestures at him to stay put. "I'm going to get some Neosporin and band-aids." Watching her walk from the room, he notices for the first time how slight she is. Not overly thin, certainly not bony, just small in size, with everything precisely proportioned to match her frame. Her red hair is very long, flowing all the way down to her waist in elegant waves. She moves the same way she speaks; no hesitation or uncertainty. The skin he's seen--quite a lot of it given the size of her bathing suit--is fair, but he hasn't spotted any freckles. 'Don't red-haired people have freckles?' She is beautiful, and he wonders how conscious she is of it. 'And, why would someone like that go for you?' Still, he is here. Elena returns quickly, and busies herself setting out medical supplies. He becomes aware of a problem. Thinking about her, watching her move, wondering what might happen between them has aroused him. He's almost painfully hard, and, as close to him as she is, she's going to notice. Should he ask where the bathroom is, and beg off for a few minutes so that he can take care of the problem? Or... She moves in front of him, sits down, and begins taking off his right tennis shoe. "Hey, you don't have to..." "Sure I do," she interrupts, her blue eyes touching his, "you don't want me to miss any scratches, do you?" 'I'm not worried about what you'll miss.' "At least you're wearing shorts." She removes the right shoe and sock, and begins working on the left foot. "If you were wearing pants, you'd have to take those off too." He feels the red blush spreading across his face and down his neck, the part he's most concerned about her noticing twitches eagerly at the idea of removing clothing, and those blue eyes are laughing at him. 'Okay, fine.' "I knew I should've worn jeans this morning." Her cool hands touch his legs, and then he feels the sting of the Neosporin. "You just moved here?" Something in her tone suggests that it's not really a question. "Yes, two weeks ago." "Do you like it so far?" 'All right, since our contestant is clueless, can anyone in the studio audience suggest a tactful way of saying fuck no?' "Um, it's okay." "As in, `Okay, I'd love to visit Grandma in the hospital, instead of going to the senior prom.' Like that?" "Hey, what can I say, I love my Grandma." "Of course you do. And, you'd be from which part of California?" "Um," he stares down at her, "San Jose. How did you..." He stops because she's laughing. "No, I'm not psychic, and, even if I was, I wouldn't have to be to know that." "What? I've got a scarlet C on my chest or something?" "Oh no." She reaches up and traces a letter on his chest with one finger. "That would be an A, for ATTITUDE!" The words she's just said never register. Her touch, even through the shirt he's wearing is electrifying, and he catches her hand in both of his. The sting of the Neosporin had allowed him to ignore the feeling of her hands on his legs, but this is different. Reveling in the smoothness of her skin, he runs his hands up her arm, and begins writing a few letters of his own on her neck. He is tempted to draw his way downwards, arriving eventually at the breasts he wants so badly to touch, but instead outlines ever-widening circles up her neck, until his hands are cradling her face. "Finally," she whispers, pulling roughly on his arms until he's sliding off the couch on top of her. Their bodies roll, and it is Elena who ends up on top. His hands are lost in the depths of her hair, and he pulls her head towards him, eagerly seeking her lips. They kiss, and her tongue is there, and it is worlds different than any kiss he's had before. Pressed together as they are, he knows she must be able to feel his hardness against her. Ever so slowly, her hips begin to rub against him, the circular friction adding a whole new dimension to their kiss. Writhing beneath her, Gavin is ecstatic, but also knows that he cannot last much longer. Elena must somehow sense this as well. Her hips do not cease their circular movement, but their lips have parted, and she's moving downward. His neck; then pulling off his shirt in one fluid motion over his head, and softly licking his nipples once it's gone; his stomach. 'Oh my God, she's going to...' Her fingernails trace lazy circles down to his shorts, and her tongue enters his bellybutton. This latest sensation almost finishes Gavin off. His hips jerk upward, and he gives a strangled cry. Moving quickly, Elena pulls down his shorts and underwear. Gavin's eyes squeeze shut, and his hips thrust upwards again. He is suddenly surrounded by hot wetness, and an exquisite sucking pressure. Crying out, he explodes into her.