Subj: Consequences of Falling ch. 53
Date: 8/8/01 6:54:21 PM Central Daylight Time
From: Nicole

On the road, 2:35 AM

Constance opened her eyes to a maze of hemp netting and a cool breeze rustling through her hair. The inane chatter of various insects and birds created a hum that seemed ideal to nap in. Even through the beige web Constance could see the deviantly deep colors of the leaves staring back at her, the water glistening on the stems in the mid-day sun. She could feel the dew evaporating off her half-naked body, the other half clothed in plaid pajama pants. Constance knew she had been here before but she could not remember when.

She soon grew stiff and flipped onto her side. She immediately faced a man's bare feet. She followed the legs to their owner and gasped, sinking further into the hammock as she covered her eyes. "Quentin!" she cried quietly. He was sleeping peacefully, his arms crossed across his bare chest and his flannel clad legs crossed at the ankles. Constance knew it was a dream but she was going to enjoy the dream as long as it lasted. She ran her hands inside the pants leg as her foot quietly slipped onto his chest, carefully by-passing his arms as she slipped her toes through the hair in the center before limberly attempting to jump to his navel. Constance jumped when Quentin grabbed her foot, his eyes mechanically opening on her in anger. His face soon softened, however, and he kissed the arch of her foot. "I see you've awakened," she whispered.

"You haven't," he said, his hand easing down her pants leg. "There's nothing wrong with that, though. It seems that I can only get in touch with you during your dreams."

Constance sighed and laid her head against his foot. Quentin continued to play with her foot, running his index finger slowly along the arch. It felt so wonderful to be near him again, to bask in the warmth of his body and softness of his lips against her flesh. But it was all a fantasy, a longing that exceeded her grasp. "I'll never see you again, will I?" she asked sadly.

"No I didn't say that," purred Quentin, his fingers gently caressing her toes. He dropped her foot onto his chest and asked, "Can you come over here, please?"

"Why?"

"Just come over, please." He opened his arms and she crawled inside, nestling herself under his chin. "Isn't that better?" Constance kissed the hollow of his neck in reply. "I knew it would be! Now listen to me: it's almost time."

"Almost time for what, Quentin?"

"It's almost time for me to return. You've found the boy and that's a start. You'll find Chris and then you'll find me."

Constance kissed him full on the mouth. "You're serious, aren't you?" Quentin could only smile. "Oh yes, yes, yes! Oh God, I'm ready for this. What do I have to do?"

"You'll know when the time arrives."

"Be a little more enigmatic."

Quentin laughed and kissed her, slowly easing his body on top of hers. "You know I can't tell you everything, especially things that I don't know myself."

"Then what can you tell me?"

"That I love you so much."

"I love you too. Go on, go on."

Quentin smiled and kissed her again, his hands easing around her back and down her pants. "I can't wait until I can touch you again, to taste you and have you as I always did."

Constance nodded and followed his lead, easing down the soft flannel pants to his knees. As his lips trailed her throat, she embedded her nails into his back, bringing thin blood trickles as they moved towards his ass. His mouth was soft, warm, wet and in stark contrast to his member as it hardened against her thigh. Constance had hardly been chaste in the 25 years since Quentin's spontaneous projection but those men had only existed to ease her compulsion. She wanted Quentin, be it in her life or inside her body. She raised her hips for his penetration, praying frantically that she would remain asleep. She clamped her eyes shut as she felt the tip slip inside...

When Constance opened her eyes, she realized she was inside the car. The night was in full bloom, the deep black sky contrasted against the pure white of the moon and snow. Constance sat up and licked her lips, finding traces of Quentin entwined with the liquor. She did not have to feel between her legs to know that she was dripping. "Dammit Quentin," she sighed under her breath.

"Oh God! It really is you."

Constance turned to see Cameron glaring at her, his bright blue eyes darting between her and the road.

"You're Astrid Douglas," he said. "My girlfriend listened to your records. I know I shouldn't say this but...never mind."

"No tell me," said Constance. The boy knew her alias. She wanted to know what he was thinking.

Cameron swallowed hard, his hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles began to whiten. "Well...when I was 17, I wanted to be a photographer. One of the people I idolized was your mother. You see, my mother had a book of Constance DuVane's photographs, the series of the island and Grant Douglas. My mother insisted that she knew your father. Maybe she did, I don't know. Anyway, I thought they were wonderful! I wanted to do that. Of course I haven't but I still admire her work."

Constance bit her lip to repress her smile. It was hard to be modest as the boy raved her. "I'm sure my mother would be giddy to know she had an admirer."

Cameron smiled shyly. "I didn't want to say anything. I didn't know if you minded talking about your mother."

"I don't care. How did you know who I was?"

"You were talking to Quentin. Why do you do that?"

"It's my secret." Cameron nodded and looked back to the road, his face relaxed into a lovely smile. Constance thought that he looked so innocent. Constance knew that he had no clue as to what he was. Every wolf lost that innocent look once he discovered the truth. Constance did not want to be there when he found out. "Why are you going to Collinsport?"

"I honestly don't know anymore. I should have followed Keelie."

"Do you mind if I ask you who that is?"

"Not at all," whispered Cameron. "Keelie--well, her name is Kelene--is, WAS my girlfriend. I was with Kelene on and off for a long time. She asked me to follow her and I decided to go to Maine instead."

"Did you have a good reason?"

"I had to find my father," answered Cameron. "I never knew my father. I wanted to ask him so many questions. Now I don't give a damn."

"Why?"

"He didn't care to stay with my mother so I don't really care about him." Cameron's voice began to break, phrases coming out in jagged, tear-stained chunks. "My mother was a saint. She put up with so much shit in her life. He should have had the strength of character to stick around instead of forcing her to turn to that sadist I had for a step-father. I guess it doesn't matter now."

"Why?" asked Constance, moving closer to Cameron as she spoke. "What happened?"

"My mother is dead. My step-father is dead. My half-siblings are dead," he answered in monotone.

"How?"

"I don't know!"

Constance fell back into her seat. She could not push Cameron further. He was already in tears. Constance placed her hand on his shoulder and said, "I'll drive, pull over. Angie! Wake up and sit up front. Let him lay down in the back."

Cameron quickly pulled to the side and everyone switched seats. He wept a few more moments before falling asleep. After a few minutes of strained silence, Constance muttered, "I didn't mean to push him. I certainly didn't expect his answer."

Neither did I," said Angelique. "You know what happened, don't you?"

"He killed them. No! The wolf killed them."

Angelique nodded. Without missing a beat, Constance began to frantically hit the steering wheel, accidentally setting off the horn and waking Cameron. The car went quiet long enough for Cameron to fall asleep again. "Dammit Quentin! Why did you kill her?" wailed Constance once he was asleep. "Did you know what trouble you would bring?"

"Quentin always underestimated the trouble he could bring," sighed Angelique.

"God! I just want all of this to end."

"Will it ever end?"

"I suppose," muttered Constance, remnants of the dream dancing through her head as she tried to suppress them.

Angelique sighed and turned away. "When is the next full moon?"

"January 9th."

"That's just a little over a week away, isn't it?" Constance nodded. "Wonderful! What are we going to do with him in Collinsport?"

"I don't know."

"Where are we going to stay?" asked Angelique.

"The Old House."

"Does Barnabas know?"

"Not yet."

Dark Shadows is a Dan Curtis Production.