"Goodnight, Dad," Zoe called as she zipped by him.
"Night," Carter yelled back, but he doubted she noticed. Sighing, he closed
the door to his room, then slowly got undressed. Everything ached. Not quite as
badly as when he fell off the bridge, but two Extra-Strength Tylenol were just not
up to the job. At least he'd escaped without broken ribs this time.
Crawling into bed was heaven. Forget the Tylenol; a bed that adjusted perfectly to
his body was better than morphine. Plus, he still had a pretty good buzz going from
saving the world--again--and reuniting with the love of his life.
Carter blinked. Reuniting Thatcher with the love of his life. Right.
Yeah, that just needed to stop. Carter was willing to make sacrifices to save people,
but confusing his own identity with a seventy year-old mad scientist was starting to
get a little creepy. And that was without getting into the whole Oedipal deal.
Eugenia was something, though. Carter thought he'd probably could have liked her that
way, if only she wasn't old enough to be his mother. She was witty in the way Carter
liked, and the years couldn't hide what a beauty she was. He could still feel the way
her lips had softened under his, the thrill that had run through him after finally
kissing her after all those years...
Carter shook those thoughts out of his head and started counting sheep. Cradled in
the comfort of his bed, he fell asleep before he got to fifty.
He dreamed of the moon. It was a mirror in the night sky, like a magnifying lens held
in some Titan's hand. Beams shot from its surface and burned away the tiny ants scurrying
over the face of the palace. He smiled in delight, and Eugenia took his hand.
"I missed you," she said, and drew him into a kiss.
He wrapped his hands around her delicate shoulders, but she drew back, slipping through his grasp.
"Come get me." Eugenia drew the fine scarf from her throat and then danced away, trailing
it behind her. It fluttered to the ground, and he picked it up. Silk slipped through his
fingers, warm against his palm.
"Come get me," Eugenia called again.
He looked up; the scarf dropped forgotten from numb fingers. Eugenia stood in hazy glow,
naked as a newborn babe.
"You're beautiful," he breathed, and stepped forward into her welcoming arms. Passion
overwhelmed him. The strength of his love for this beautiful woman filled his soul.
Carter woke up thrusting into his perfect mattress. He stilled, panting hard, fully
aware of who he was. Fully aware of who he'd just been dreaming about.
He whimpered and pressed his hand to his face. God, his life was so fucked up. Even
worse, he was still horny, even knowing how weird it all was.
Well, nothing to do but to let nature take its course. Rolling his hips, Carter found
that perfect rhythm again. He tried to focus on only the sensations, but his mind wouldn't
cooperate. All he could see was her face. Her beautiful eyes filled with wonder as he
pulled back from their kiss. Her lips quirking in a soft, delighted smile as she saw him.
Not Thatcher, him.
Carter came, silently mouthing the first syllables of her name.
He buried his face in his pillow, trying not to think about what had just happened.
Finally, when the lack of oxygen had drained away most of the shame, he rolled over and
got out of bed to clean up.
Tomorrow, he was flirting with as many women his own age as possible.