66 comments/ 87277 views/ 19 favorites Forget the Bitch, Gimme a Drink By: SweetWitch This is an entry in the SweetWitch-Marsh Alien Feud Settlement Short Story Writing Contest. As a courtesy to me, if you cast a vote on this story, please also read Marsh Alien 's "Forget the Drink, Gimme the Bitch." Besides, his story has love and romance. *** The place was a shambles. Devi Sloane surveyed the damage with a frosty gaze. What did it matter to her? Hauling herself upright, she wiped blood from the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand, stepping over the defeated body that still lay on the wet floor among the shattered glass and broken furniture. Making a feeble attempt at adjusting her ragged clothing and pushing disheveled jet-black hair from her face, she swaggered to the bar on one broken sandal heel. "Hell, Devi, what got into you?" the man on her left asked, moving back a step. She fixed him with a killing glare. "Uh, Hon," another voice offered up timidly. "I think Sam's hurt." It was true. Samara Grey lay prone, bleeding and whimpering in the center of the barroom floor. She didn't look like she was going to be getting up anytime soon, which suited Devi just fine. "Forget the bitch," she snarled, turning her eyes back to the astonished man behind the bar. "Gimme a drink." "You gonna call the cops, Charlie?" a drunk voice slurred out. "No," Charlie Wells laughed, pouring three fingers of his best Kentucky sipping whiskey. "That's a fight I'd've paid good money to see. Damn, girl, you pack a hell of a wallop. I didn't know you had it in you. Feel better?" Devi accepted the glass, staring into the amber liquid within. Did she feel better? "Not yet," she said, taking a gulp of the fiery liquid. "But I'm working on it." Snatching at the broken strap that hung out of one large tear in her blouse, Devi pulled up on the bra cup that threatened to expose too much of her flesh. Voices around her began to buzz the way they do when something anomalous occurs. "I always thought she was such a sweet, shy thing," a woman said. "I always thought she wouldn't say 'shit' if she had a mouthful," someone else tossed in. Devi knew what everyone always thought about her. Sweet, timid, defenseless, a real pushover -- but they had no idea the emotions that always boiled beneath the surface or how she'd been trained all her life to control them. Not once, since her earliest childhood, had she given vent to the rage of which she was capable. Not until now. As good as it felt to smash that woman's nose all over her face, Devi still felt the shame of letting go. Her gram would have been so disappointed in her. Raising the glass to her lips again, she shot back the rest of its contents before slamming it back down on the bar. "Gimme another." Still chuckling, Charlie poured a liberal amount of bourbon in the glass. "Better go easy on that," he said. "You're not a drinker." "I'm thinking of taking it up as a hobby," she snapped, grabbing the drink. Taking another swig, she allowed the liquor to linger in her mouth, killing the taste of blood before swallowing. The whiskey burned in her empty stomach, adding to the fire of rage she felt in her chest. How had this mess started? Staring into her glass again, she thought back over the years of her marriage. Gram had tried to warn her, but she just wouldn't listen. "Any man named Philander is nothing but trouble," Gram had said. My grandma was right, she thought. Phil had proved that within weeks of their wedding vows. That's when she'd found out about his first affair. To be honest, it was a one-night stand, but that reality only made the event all the more painful. He'd gone out and fucked some woman just because he could. There was no emotion behind it, just the lust for a skirt that he met in passing. There had been others, too. Oh, he'd promised, after she found out about the first one, that he'd never do it again, but she always knew when he'd been off shoving his dick into some willing skank. She'd kept her shame to herself, not telling another soul. It would've been too painful to admit she'd made a mistake. It was that stubborn pride that forced her to hold her head high and turn a blind eye to Phil's unfaithfulness, even when it was the talk of the town. That is, until Samara. Sam had been her best friend since first grade. It had been Sam that held her hand in the long nights of mourning after Devi's parents had died in the fire that had burned their home to the ground. It had been Sam with whom she had shared all the giggles and tears of a girl's life. In a way, Sam's betrayal was far worse than what Phil had done. Phil had started showing his tells, those little unconscious signs that he was messing around again. It had been just four weeks ago when she'd realized that he was fucking around yet again, and this time it wasn't just a quick fling. At first, she had tried to ignore it, hoping it would pass quickly as all the others had done. Soon it became apparent that Phil was involved on some emotional level. When she had finally tried to confront him about it, he'd become combative, even cruel. He had accused her of going off the deep end, imagining things that weren't really happening. Again she'd tried to ignore it, but the whispers of the people around her had taken on a new ugliness. When Devi couldn't stand it any longer, she had taken to spying on him. She followed him when he left at night, showed up at his office unannounced and scanned his cell phone for suspicious numbers. He'd covered his tracks well. Her nerves shattered, she had accepted an invitation from her aunt to spend the weekend at the lake house with her family. As always, Samara had been invited, too. It was the first time Sam had ever turned down a chance to wallow in the water and work on her tan in front of Devi's hot cousins. That should've been my first clue. Taking another sip from her glass, she glanced at her reflection in the mirror behind the bar. Her mouth was swollen from the one good lick that Sam had gotten in and one side of her face bore angry, red scratches. What was left of her blouse was hanging open, revealing the torn lace of her bra and the gouge marks made by Sam's fingernails. Her normally well-groomed hair was a mess that no amount of combing was going to fix. It tumbled in dirty waves over her shoulders and down her back. Plucking a matted clump of her own hair from her blouse, Devi dropped it on the floor in disgust. That's when she noticed that the once-white, ankle-length skirt she wore was torn from hem to waist along one thigh. She shrugged and turned back to her drink. A movement in the mirror caught her attention. Someone was helping Sam from the floor, setting her in a chair. Draining her glass, Devi turned around to face her former best friend. "You broke my nose, you bitch!" the woman screamed from across the room. Devi smiled at her, a chilly grimace belying the burning hatred that had settled in her soul. She had wanted to break more than Sam's nose. She had come home earlier than expected from her weekend at the lake. It had rained all night, and was still raining this morning when she'd made the decision to return home. It was early afternoon when she had pulled into the drive to find Sam's car in her parking spot. Devi's blood had run cold the minute she'd seen it. Shock had taken over her senses, freezing her butt to the seat of her vehicle, her fingers to the steering wheel. The world had seemed to turn in slow motion when she had finally managed to extricate herself from the vehicle. She didn't remember processing any thoughts when she'd found herself tiptoeing across the yard to her own bedroom window. The rain had stopped, but the ground was soft and wet, sucking the little kitten heels of her sandals into the mud. The soggy, uncut grass had clung to her ankles as she'd approached, soaking the hem of her skirt; that much she remembered clearly. The sight that was waiting for her on the other side of the glass had been enough to ripple through her belly like an earthquake. Samara had her naked ass in the air, her lips wrapped around Phil's cock. He was grinning, reaching for her. He threw the woman onto her back, jerking her legs apart. His mouth descended on Sam's shaved pussy, devouring her in a way he'd never used on Devi. With the window open a crack, Devi could hear Sam's screams. Her best friend was enjoying her husband thoroughly. Phil stopped eating, hovering over a mewling Sam, laughing riotously as the blond beneath him cursed vehemently. Then he reared back, clutching his cock in his large fist, aiming at her open pussy. From her vantage point, Devi could see everything, from the way her oldest friend's back arched, and the expression on her face as she begged for more, to the leer on her own husband's profile. She could see the head of his cock strumming along the hairless folds of flesh between Sam's thighs and the tension in his muscles when he prepared to slam himself home. He thrust into her hard, burying himself to the hilt, throwing his head back in a crude growl. The sound was unlike anything that Devi had ever heard from him during their tepid couplings. He'd never shown the passion for her that he was showing the woman Devi had most trusted in her life. That realization alone was enough to bring the rage to the surface, but she'd held it in check. The scene inside the bedroom was like a train wreck, fascinating in its horror. It held her enthralled, forcing her to stare at its depravity. Phil thrust deeper, harder, pounding furiously at the woman on the bed. Sam moaned out in response, her nails digging into his back, leaving bloody trails on his skin. He pulled out suddenly, snatching her legs up. He wrenched them farther apart, shoving her knees to her tits. He told her to hold them there, going into detail about how he would punish her if she let go. She obeyed, giggling, while he slid two of his fingers into her pussy. She moaned eagerly when he inserted first one wet finger and then the other into her anus, prying it open. Then he shoved his wet cock in, laughing when she screamed in pain and pleasure. Reaching up, he took hold of one of her nipples, pulling on it, twisting it roughly until she moaned again. "I'll bet Devi never let you do this," Sam had giggled. "She wouldn't make a pimple on your ass, Baby," Phil had growled in response. "She's as much fun in the sack as a dead fish." They laughed together, grunting as Phil pulled out and thrust back in. He was fucking Sam's ass as if his very life depended on it, sweating like the pig he was. Those words, that laughter, had hurt as much as the betrayal. That's when the rage had come to the surface. That's when Devi had allowed the anger to take control. She'd gone to the garage behind the house, had taken a can from the shelves inside. Then she went to work on Sam's brand new silver Camaro. After spray-painting the words "slut" and "whore" on the sides, hood and windshield of the car, she had used a hammer from Phil's coveted tool box to shatter the headlights. Following that, she'd gotten into her own car and driven aimlessly for a few hours, seething with the hot temper that still boiled inside. She had always been the good girl, had always done what was expected of her. Even the clothing she wore was prim and proper. A glance in the rearview mirror revealed the pretty white ribbon that held her raven hair back from her face. She grabbed at it in disgust, ripping it from her head, letting the black hair spill forward over her shoulders and down her front. The ribbon landed on the seat in a small pile of shimmering satin. Her wandering path had taken her past Charlie's Tap where she saw an angry Samara stomping in through the door. It was pure impulse that had Devi cranking the wheel over, slamming on the brakes to slide sideways into the parking lot. She'd practically torn the key from the ignition, tossing it in the seat, when she had parked next to Samara's slut-mobile. Standing outside her vehicle, she had raged inwardly as she stared at the building. It was pure impulse that had made her snatch her ribbon from the seat again, using it to tie her long hair back in a ponytail to get it out of the way. Then she had stalked through the same entry that Sam had taken. Slamming the tavern's door behind her, she had drawn the attention of the small crowd inside. "You fucking bitch!" Sam had shrieked when she'd seen Devi standing there, glaring in her sinister fury. "You're going to pay for the damage you did to my car." "What price, Samara?" Devi had asked quietly, tossing her ponytail back, walking slowly to her new enemy. "What price should we hang on the head of a two-faced friend who would fuck my husband? What price for soiling the sheets of my bed with my man? What would you pay for the destruction of a marriage?" Samara, her face flaming red, looked at the amused, curious stares of the quiet people around her. She began to sidle toward the door, giving Devi a wide berth, working her way to the middle of the room. "I don't know what the hell you're talking about. I went there to talk to Phil because he's worried about you. That's all. He thinks you're going crazy and I'm beginning to believe him." Undaunted, Devi continued her slow approach, keeping herself between her husband's slut and the door. "That's a good one, Sam. Maybe next time you fuck someone else's husband, you'll remember to draw the shades. I saw the whole thing, right down to how you like to take it up the ass." Devi glanced over her shoulder to the grinning patrons at the bar. "How many of you here didn't know that this whore likes to get fucked in the ass?" she asked loud enough for everyone to hear. "If you haven't already done it, give it a try. From what I saw, my husband was having a damn good time." There was a collective gasp from the men and women who surrounded the bar, followed by vulgar chuckles and taunts directed at Sam. "How dare you," Sam hissed unconvincingly. "I... I should sue you for slander." "Kinda hard to prove slander when the whole town knows I'm telling the truth, slut. They've been talking about it for weeks. Stupid me, I didn't want to believe it. I just thought they were being mean. I mean, after all, my best friend would never do anything like that to me. But then I saw it for myself. Skank." "Devi, you stay away from me," Sam murmured, taking a step back. "Oh, no. You're gonna take your punishment like a big girl, Sweetie. I'm going to beat you to a bloody pulp." With those words, Devi had launched herself at her old friend, snatching her by the front of her cropped tee shirt, connecting her right fist with Sam's eye. The woman reeled, staggering backwards, screaming for help. No one at the bar stirred. The few people that had occupied the tables had gotten up to join the others at the counter to view the spectacle. "No one's going to help you, Sam." Samara had the grace to look truly scared for the first time. She glanced around, but her only avenue of escape had been cut off by Devi. The humiliation of what was happening, in front of the entire bar, was almost more than she could bear. "Hey," she countered, curling her mouth into a sneer. "It's not my fault that you can't keep your husband satisfied. Maybe if you'd stop trying to be such a good girl all the time, he'd've been home fucking you instead of me, bitch." "You got me there, Sam. He's been screwing around for all three years of our marriage. Imagine how lucky he must've felt to finally nail you. But then, that probably wasn't any real challenge for him, huh? After all, you've fucked half the husbands in the county," Devi shot back, glancing over her shoulder at the bar. "Should I start naming all the cocks in this room that have rammed it into you?" Sam cringed. The men blanched. The few wives in the place started to smell blood. "Let's see a show of hands fellas. Just the married ones," Devi continued. "How many of you guys have fucked this whore?" It was Sam's turn to pounce, and she did so with claws drawn. She grabbed a handful of Devi's long hair, dislodging the ribbon, dragging her around in a circle until Devi punched her in the gut. Sam went down, turning loose of Devi's hair, clutching her belly and gasping for air. Devi lunged forward, landing in the middle of Sam's body with her shirt riding up around her waist, pummeling the woman with her fists. From a distance, Devi could hear the cheers of the crowd, knew she was creating quite a show, but for once in her life, she didn't care. She punched Sam for every time someone had taken advantage of her good nature, for every time she had believed in someone only to have her heart broken again. Each hit the slut took was for the times that Devi had reluctantly been the woman's alibi, had lied for her, and had protected her just because that's what friends do. She stopped to catch her breath, fatigue wearing her down. That's when Sam had managed to hit Devi back with the heel of her hand. Devi was knocked backwards, landing on her back with her skirt flying up around her hips. The slut was on top of her in the bat of an eye, clawing at her face, tearing at her hair and clothes. Devi didn't feel the pain, not even when Sam grabbed her left breast, giving it a savage twist. The crowd loved the maneuver, cheering and applauding the screeching Sam. As if the woman weighed nothing, Devi threw her off, jumping to her feet. She narrowed her eyes, spitting out a mouthful of blood as she glared at her former pal. Sam clamored to her feet, putting a table between her and Devi. She jumped back as if burned when Devi seized the corner of it, tossing it aside to land on its top. "Get back here, bitch," Devi snarled when the woman turned to run. Snaring a handful of blond hair, Devi twirled it quickly around her wrist, yanking Sam around to take the full brunt of her rage in the form of a fist smashing into her nose. Devi had felt the cracking of bone before she heard it, giving her a satisfied feeling of retribution. Blood splattered across the floor, down the front of her clothing. Sam's claws flashed out again, forcing Devi to release her grip on the wheat-colored tresses. As she did so, she planted her foot in Sam's ass, sending her flying face-first into a chair. The chair splintered apart under the force, leaving the slut face down on the beer-soaked floor. "Get up!" Devi bellowed, tossing aside scattered chairs in her haste to grab the woman. Scampering to her feet once again, Sam reached for a drink on a nearby table, tossing its contents in Devi's face. Next was a mug of beer. The burning liquid hit Devi's dark eyes, running down her face and onto her clothing. She had to smile when Sam screamed just before tossing the mug at her head. Devi deflected the heavy beaker with her forearm, heard the sound of glass smashing on the floor. Sam shoved a chair at her, striking her shins just below the knees. Devi didn't feel it. Picking up the chair, she hurled it past Sam as the woman shrieked once more. "I'm done playing," Devi growled, lunging for the woman she once thought of as her sister. She threw Sam over a table, watching with delicious joy as the slut toppled off the other side. Shoving the table out of the way, Devi landed astride her. Clasping her hands together, she swung them back over her shoulder, bringing them back down to slam into the side of Sam's face. That was it for Sam. She grunted once, her eyelids falling over bloodshot eyes. Her body went lax under Devi, unconscious and utterly defenseless. For the briefest of moments, Devi had an almost overpowering urge to snatch a piece of broken glass from the floor and use it to destroy what was left of Sam's face. She struggled with it, gulping desperately at the stale air around her in an effort to get control of the dark rage. Forget the Bitch, Gimme a Drink Finally she pulled herself off the prone woman, stumbling backward on her one broken shoe. Samara moaned softly, the only sign that there was still life in the bitch. She lay at Devi's feet, her muddied shorts open at the fly and her ruined tee shirt pushed up around her neck. Now, as she stood at the bar, listening to the incessant whining of the woman who had betrayed her, the one she had called friend for so long, she only wanted to erase the past years of her life. She wanted to be done with this town and all its inhabitants. She wanted to be free. "You want another?" "What?" Devi muttered, lost in thought. "No, Charlie. Sorry about the mess." "Don't worry yourself about it. We ain't had a fight like that in here since the Budweiser girls came to town. Margaret Tanker still won't allow ol' Jim back in here." She heard the men around them chuckle, but the humor was lost on her. Sam still sat in the center of the room, whining about her face and threatening to sue. If the woman hoped to drum up sympathy, there were few in the tavern that looked to be offering it. Devi had to smile at that. Sam always did like to be the center of attention. A hush fell over the place when the door opened. All heads turned to see the man who entered, his eyes searching the dimness and lighting on Devi. His breath whistled through his teeth when he saw her condition. "Sean, oh, thank God," Sam cried out. "Look what she did to me." But Sean didn't see her. He walked straight to Devi, reaching out a hand to her shoulder. "Phil called and said you went off the deep end, Hon. You okay?" "Why're you here?" she asked. Good old Sean. He'd been a real friend over the years. He and Phil had been hanging out together since junior high, but when Devi and Phil had gotten married, he turned out to be a better friend to Devi than his old pal. "I saw your car in the lot. I've been looking for you since Phil called. Did you do that to Sam's Camaro?" "Yep," she answered, her eyes glittering, nodding her head toward the center of the room. "I also beat the fuck out of the bitch." "I see that," he laughed, casting the whimpering Sam a sideways glance. "So you finally figured it out, huh?" Shooting him a withering glance, she motioned for Charlie to pour another drink. "So I guess I'm the only one too dumb to see, huh? Yeah, I saw the two of them through the bedroom window -- fucking." "Ouch. Sorry, Dev. I wanted to tell you, but..." "But I wouldn't have listened," she finished for him. "I probably would've kicked your butt out of my house." "Why did you put up with his shit for so long?" "He's my husband," she answered simply, shrugging her shoulders. "You deserve better, Dev," he offered. Looking into his eyes, she could see the earnestness of his words, and maybe a little something more. Was that regret she saw? Regret for what? "When I married him, I thought he was the best. I guess I'm just an idiot." "No, Hon. You just saw past his flaws, saw things that weren't there," Sean said softly, brushing a stray lock of her hair back. "He never deserved what you gave him, and he's not worth all this. Why don't you let me take you home so you can get cleaned up?" She opened her mouth to speak, but the door opened again. This time it was Phil who crossed the threshold. People all around froze, some with drinks lifted half way to their faces. He looked mad as hell, stomping toward her and Sean, glaring at his friend as if the man were intruding. "Thanks for finding her," Phil snapped. "You can go now." "I think Devi's had enough of you," Sean said quietly. "You better get the fuck away from my wife, asshole. This is between her and me." Sean took a step forward, squaring off against Devi's husband. The crowd looked like a pack of hungry dogs waiting to be fed. "What the hell am I, a piece of meat?" Devi yelled. "You two are picking over my bones like a couple of vultures. Jesus. Sean, you're a sweet guy, but I don't need you to fight my battles. Besides, Phil's right. It's between us." She stepped between the men, placing a bloodstained hand on her husband's arm. "Why, Phil? I could be good to you, too. Why don't you want me the way you want all those others?" "Devi, I'm taking you home... now. What the hell were you thinking?" "Nobody mind me," Sam cut in from her chair in the center of the room. "I'm just sitting here, bleeding to death." Rolling her eyes, Devi marched toward the battered woman, stopping a few steps away to grin malevolently when Samara flinched. Reaching down, Devi snagged her filthy, wet ribbon from the floor. She walked slowly back, taking Phil's arm to pull him away from the others. "I think we should talk in private, Phil. I want to work this thing out." He started to pull her toward the exit, only to be stopped by a grinning Devi. "In here. I want to do something naughty to you," she said, leading the way to the men's room. Glancing over her shoulder, she shot Sean a bawdy wink. He looked angry, his fists doubled at his sides, an expression of utter disgust on his face. "I know what you think you saw, Sweetie," Phil began when she came to a stop on the other side of the empty room. She turned then, pressing her fingers against his lips, shushing him softly. "It's done. Let's just forget it, Doll," she said, her voice soft and husky. "I want to show you that I can do all the things those other women do for you. I want you to know that you don't need to go anywhere else to get what you need." She could see the shock on his face as she pulled him closer, wrapped her arms around his neck and inhaled the fragrance of soap. At least he showered, she thought as she ran her lips over his jaw. She trailed the fingers of one hand down his chest while reaching behind with her other hand to drop the lid of the toilet. She lowered her butt, sitting so that her face was on the same level as his belt buckle. Licking her swollen lips, she looked up at his face, smiling in what she hoped was an alluring way as she slowly unzipped his fly. "I could do things for you, Baby," she whispered. "God, Devi. You're giving me a boner." "Good. That's the way I want you -- hard and ready for me. Close your eyes. Mama's gonna give you something." She peeled his jeans back just enough to reach inside his shorts, watching as his eyes drifted shut and his head lolled back. Wrapping her fingers around his erection, she stroked softly, feeling the way it swelled in her grip as she pulled it out of his pants. "That's it, Baby," Phil moaned, pushing forward into her hand. "Don't tease me. Suck on that cock." "Just keep your eyes closed, Lover," she returned, squeezing a little harder. "I'm going to make you feel so..." A memory flashed of his dick buried in Sam's ass, heating her anger more. If he actually thought she would put that in her mouth, or any other orifice of her body, he had another think coming. It was only a few of minutes after entering the tiny men's room with her husband that Devi walked back out -- alone. She was giggling like a little girl, almost dancing as she glanced back through the door she'd left open. The expression on Phil's face had her wishing she had her camera. "Where's Sean?" she asked no one in particular as she searched the faces at the bar. "He mumbled something about stupid women and stomped out the door," Charlie supplied, pointing at the door. She heard a loud guffaw behind her. One of the regulars was laughing his fool head off, pointing into the men's room. He turned to her, wiping tears from his eyes. "I'll get 'im for you," the man fairly yelled, turning to run out the door. Other patrons gathered to see what had Mike Thompkins so amused. Before long, the entire place was roaring with laughter. And before long, Mike came back in with Sean in tow. One glance through the bathroom door and Sean was grinning, cocking an eyebrow at her. "He thought I would let him stick that foul thing in my body again" she shrugged. "He thought that a quick shower makes him all clean." With a smug smile, Sean looked at her dirty hair ribbon with one end tied around the base of Phil's engorged cock. The other end was tied to the plumbing under the sink in such a way that Phil couldn't get his hands on it without bending down and causing himself even more pain. There wasn't enough slack in the line for him to be able to reach under the sink. Even if he could, there was no way the man was going to get the knots out of the wet cloth. She had trussed him up like a misbehaving dog. "Dev, what are you doing?" he asked, still laughing over the turn of events. "I'm teaching him a much-needed lesson." "Now, Honey," Phil whined, grimacing in pain. "Let's just talk about this..." "I'm through talking, you ass. I'm through with you and your filth and your stink." "Devi, please," he implored, gripping the edges of the sink as his prick continued to swell. "Please? Please what, Philander? Please forgive you? Please turn you loose? Please let you keep your prick? Fuck you." She laughed again before adding, "You better get yourself out of that and get to a hospital, if you don't want that thing to fall off." Before he could respond, she turned away, taking Sean's arm. "You know, you were ready to fight one of your oldest friends over me. Why?" "Why?" he said, running his knuckles down the side of her face. "Can't you figure that out by now? I always gave you credit for being smarter than that." "Maybe I can figure it out, but a woman likes to hear it said, Sean." "Because you're you. Because since we were kids I've been watching you, waiting for you to notice me. But then you married Phil. I wish I could have stopped that from happening." His voice trailed off, his eyes searching hers for some understanding. She gave it to him in the form of an impish smile. "So, what were you saying about taking me home to get cleaned up? Was that going to be your home or mine?" "Mine, Doll. I never want you to go back to that place." She glanced behind her, seeing Phil still moaning in pain, trying desperately to stay on his feet. "Honey," she called to him. "Don't wait up. I won't be home -- ever." Taking Sean's arm, she walked with him to the exit, calling over her shoulder for Charlie to take care of her car. The bar owner just waved her on, carrying a large knife to the men's room, chuckling over the day's events. She winked at him, turning back to Sean, wondering how she had managed not to see that love that shined in his eyes. They walked together out into the setting sun. The day might have been coming to an end, but to Devi, it all seemed brand new -- a new freedom and a new life. *** Thank you for taking to the time to read this story. Won't you take a moment more to vote and tell me what you think? Be sure to tell Marsh Alien, too. This is his brainchild and I hope I beat his socks off, which will be tricky considering his talent, his gift for wit and his popularity on this site. Thanks, Marsh, for all your help. Molly