The Lawyer and the Iller

Shawn was a man whose life was a convoluted mess. After his time in the service he'd gotten mixed up with a syndicate connected murder for hire operation. He remembered thinking, hell he'd been rewarded for killing people while in the army, why not just keep doing the same thing for money after he got out. At first the money was good, and the thrills were indescribable, but it got cold fast. Some people were so piteous. It took a cold blooded personality to want to perpetually do the sort of things he was expected to do. He tried making a clean break, but found out fast one didn't just walk away from that kind of set up.

He managed to cut back on his personal operations, and even found an honest alternative working with international aid groups indirectly through the United Nations. However, he was still a paid murderer, and could never completely make the separation. He realized later his last assignment had been thrust upon him by fellow agents who had an interest in his removal. Maybe they thought he'd balk at killing Susan Slattery? They turned out to be correct. For reasons he still couldn't explain her assassination turned out to be one hurdle too many.

He'd broken ranks. That was something one didn't do and live, but Susan was someone special. He didn't know where things were going. He'd wanted to guarantee her safety, and perhaps his own. It was a perilous set of circumstances. He considered, though he had finally extricated her, his future was still occluded. He realized even some low level moron hoping to ingratiate himself with higher ups could easily turn his life into a nightmare.

Shawn drove the car as Susan lay curled beside him. He glanced down at her. He wondered if she was asleep, "Susan, you awake?

Susan sighed, "I guess so, why sort of."

"Just wondered," He heard another quiet sigh and asked, "You hungry?"

Susan sat up and wiped her right eye with her right hand, 'What time is it?"

Shawn checked the clock on the dashboard, "It's a little after 2:00 a.m."

Susan leaned her head against his arm and held it with her right hand, "Maybe a little breakfast."

He kissed the top of her head, "A Denny's might be open."

She took her right hand and dropped it to his lap. She traced the line of his zipper, and thought she found where his penis was. She pressed her head a little harder against his arm. She wondered why she touched him down there it was so out of character, "I like Bob Evans."

Shawn liked the idea that she was touching him where she was, "Denny's gives out unlimited pancakes."

Susan was feeling Shawn's penis. He was getting an erection. All she had to do was touch him and he got hard. It was neat to do. Susan had heard men often gave their things names. She thought that's what she would do if she were a man. She couldn't imagine walking around all her life just calling it a dick or a penis, "What do you call this thing?"

Shawn was taken by surprise, "Call what?"

"Don't be coy. You know what I mean." She couldn't believe she was asking him this.

"Why does my." He didn't want to call it a penis, "My thing as you call it have to have a name?"

Susan thought she was being smart. She kept tickling his thingy, "It does have a name doesn't it?"

Shawn was feeling a little silly and a tad defensive about the direction of the conversation. He wanted to get something to eat, "You want to go to Denny's?"

"First tell me what you call your thingy."

Shawn wanted to stop the penis talk, "My thingy doesn't have a name."

Susan had him and she knew it, "Yes it does. What's it's name?"

Shawn was willing to do almost anything to get off the subject. He felt self conscious talking about it with her. With any other woman he didn't think it would matter, but with her it did. "If I told you, would you stop the badgering?"

"Maybe." was all she said.

"Hermie."

"Hermie?"

"Hermie."

"How did it get a name like Hermie?"

Shawn had shared a childhood secret he'd almost completely forgotten. He hoped she wouldn't use it make fun of him, "When I was real little at one of the foster homes the people were very German. Herman is a German name. I was a little boy so the lady called my little boy thing 'Little Hermie'. Is that good enough for you?"

Susan decided to lay her head in his lap. She puffed at the lump in his pants, "So that's 'Little Hermie'. As far as secrets went that was the first real childhood secret he'd ever agreed to share. She could tell by the tone of his voice the admission probably opened doors he'd rather leave closed. She decided she wouldn't make fun of him. "Bob Evans has better fried eggs."

Shawn felt his pants tighten and readjusted the way he was sitting. What with the admission about the name his 'thing' had been given he was feeling a little discomfited. He was glad she went back to the food, "Denny's has better omelets."

Susan kept rubbing his pants.

'Hermie' she thought. She took her fingers and unzipped his trousers so she could get a better feel, "Who has the better sausage gravy?"

Shawn took his left hand, reached beside the seat, and pressed the lever that moved the seat further back. "OK, I'll try to find a Bob Evans," He was having trouble concentrating on his driving.

Susan searched around through his boxer shorts until she found what she was looking for. She pulled it free of the cotton material and let it stand upright in front of her face. With her lying sideways it looked like a little tower. She wondered how big she could make it get. She took the fingertips of her hand and stroked up and down, "Did you ever see that Steve Martin movie called Parenthood?"

Shawn had seen that movie and had enjoyed it. He remembered the scene he thought she might be referring to. It was the scene where Mary Steenbergen leaned down to give Steve Martin a B.J. because her sister-in-law said that's what she did when she thought her husband was feeling tense when he was driving. He remembered the movie; Steve Martin had gotten so excited he'd had an accident. Shawn understood how easily that could happen. He knew he certainly wasn't feeling very relaxed, "Yes I remember that movie, enjoyed it too."

Susan did something she'd never done before. She licked a man's thing. She'd just leaned forward a little bit and licked up the side of Shawn's machine. It tasted salty, and it smelled. She was glad she wasn't a prostitute. This kind of smell and taste would never do. She took her tongue and touched the head of his thing. It jumped up and got bigger, "I have a surprise for you."

Shawn felt a little silly, "I like it."

Susan took his thing in her fingers and wiggled it back and forth in front of her face, "Not this."

Shawn was a nervous wreck. He hadn't done anything since that day when he had her all tied up. He was a volcano waiting to erupt; a veritable Vesuvius he thought, ready to engulf the poor unsuspecting people of Pompeii. God this felt good. He started to squirm, "If not this then what?"

Susan took her tongue and licked the top of his thing again. She wondered what she should say next, "It's something really special."

For Shawn the something special was happening right then. If she didn't stop what she was doing she was going to get a big surprise too. It was all he could to keep the car on the road and not leap out of his seat, "Don't keep me in suspense any longer."

OK she thought. He's got to find out some time, "We're having a baby."

Shawn went ballistic! It was like there were these simultaneous explosions. He saw a Bob Evans sign. He lost control of the car. He ejaculated.

He swerved the car, and nearly ran off the shoulder into a ditch.

It was too late for Hermie. He ejaculated all over her face. He didn't mean to, but he sure did. Nearly five months worth of semen came gushing up and out. She tried to back off, but it was just a little too late. He jumped and thrashed in his seat, "Oh God! That felt good! Oh no!"

He'd made a mess all over her face and her blouse. He felt terrific and awful at the same time.

Susan jumped up, "You bastard!"

"I'm sorry Susan. It was an accident honest." He was all flustered, "No I don't mean it was an accident, I mean I just didn't expect what I heard." He wasn't handling this well, "The thing you said wasn't an accident, and what I just did wasn't an accident either, but I don't think either one was actually planned the way it came out." That didn't sound right.

Susan was sitting up with sperm all over her face, her hands, and down the front of her blouse. Her first reaction was to be pissed off, but that wasn't being fair, "Oh this shit tastes and smells like comet cleanser."

Using her fingertips she was trying to hold her blouse away from from her skin, "It's all gooey. I hate this Yuk! Pull over to the side of the road I'm going to be sick."

Shawn dutifully pulled to the side of the road.

Susan leaned out her side of the car, but she wasn't really sick. She just had to say something to get him to stop and turn on some lights. With the door open she saw how bad it was, "This is terrible. I can't go anywhere now. I've got this gooey smelly stuff all over me. Look at me."

He was looking at her. Gooey smelly stuff aside he thought she looked beautiful. He already had his shirt off, "Look, take off your blouse and wipe your face and hands. I don't have any Kleenex, napkins, or anything. You can use your blouse to wipe with, and here." He'd slipped his Tee-shirt off, "It's a little large, but you won't have to wear that sticky blouse.

He gave her his sincerest look, I'm sorry Susan, but what you said really was a surprise."

Susan did the best she could to get the gunk off her face. Some of it had gotten in her hair. She really hated that, but her bra didn't seem to have anything on it. She took his too large Tee-shirt and pulled it over her head. Yes it was certainly too large, and she felt clammy from where his underarms must have been sweating. That mollified her a little bit. She bet she was the cause of that, "Thank you for the shirt, but I can't go into a restaurant with this on."

Shawn smiled, "Don't worry its closed anyway." He had the car safely on the side of the road, "So tell me about the big surprise again."

Susan leaned back on her seat. She didn't try to touch him this time. "Well you remember the day you raped me?"

How could he forget? It had turned out to be just about the biggest day of his life, "No what happened?"

She swung around and punched him hard in the arm, "You bastard. I remember now what a sarcastic son of a bitch you really are."

He leaned forward, grabbed her arms and pulled her over close so she couldn't hit him again, "I'm sorry, but that was too good a line to let pass. Of course, I remember everything, every second, every touch, and every comment. Is that when it happened?"

Susan wasn't one bit appeased, "Can you name any other times you took advantage of me?"

He was squeezing her really close and feeling terribly sorry but really affectionate too. She'd been through one hell of a lot more than any woman; scratch that, any person deserved. She needed understanding not sarcasm, "What I suppose I should marry you now." He laughed. He had to say it.

To his chagrin he'd relaxed his hold. She plowed a good one right in his stomach, "Me! Marry you? What, I'm supposed to remember how I got raped and how you threatened me with dismemberment the rest of my life?"

Shawn gulped. He had to clear the dismemberment thing up, "About the body modification thing. I only said that to scare you. I would never have allowed anything like that. I would never have let anyone touch you in the ways I said. By the time I told you that story I'd already made up my mind about you."

Susan was leaning back again. She took her left hand and touched his right arm, "Tell me Shawn what you had already decided? And why did you tell me those awful things?"

Shawn turned so that he was facing her. God she was so pretty. She was so sweet. She was going to be a terrific mother he just knew it, "I told you those things to scare you so much you'd be afraid to run away." She started to say something but he held up his hand, "Wait, just wait. I goofed. I know a lot about women in some ways, like how to scare them I guess, but I'm stupid in other ways like in how to get them to not want to leave." He wasn't making any sense, "I'm not making any sense. Maybe if I explained the other thing first. I had decided not to hurt you. I mean I'd already hurt you by kidnapping you and then by taking advantage of you, but I wasn't going to hurt you anymore. I mean I wasn't going to let you go, and that was bad, but I wasn't letting you go because I knew they'd want to do something bad to you.

She interrupted. She thought she understood, but she wanted him to explain it better, "You're not making any sense."

He tried again, "Susan I got started in life on the wrong track. I did bad things to people, but pretty soon I tried to stop. I started doing other things to compensate for the bad things. That's how I got involved in the hunger projects. I'm good at languages, and they needed people. I'd had brains enough to keep my identity secret from the syndicate so they couldn't easily track me down, but if they wanted to they could have found me. So I was stuck doing bad things for money, but doing what I think were good things almost for free.

Then you came along. You were the most innocent victim I'd ever seen. You pranced around that courtroom like a little girl." He paused, "Don't get me wrong. You were a bad son of a bitch, but the guy you nailed, he'd had his chances. Well I decided I didn't want to hurt you. Then when I got you home, you took it. I mean you held it in; you didn't collapse or panic until I really scared you. Then when you did panic you were brave. Braver than a lot of people I've seen. When you were down in that ditch, beaten, worn out, dirty, exhausted, but still fighting, I was proud of you. I mean really proud of you!"

He had to slow down. He was getting emotional, "I don't know what love is. Does anyone? But I knew then I wanted to keep you in my life. Does that make any sense?"

Susan only nodded. She was feeling increasingly uncomfortable.

He went on, "Then you made up your mind to skip out. You hated me, and rightfully so. I knew then, if I couldn't have you, I could try to protect you. I know there are some men who'd want to kill you if they couldn't have you, but not me. I wanted to fix things. You know, make it right."

He knew he was running out of ways to say what he meant, "Look I tried. See. I bought them off. That didn't work. So I bought them off again. That's where it stands now. If that doesn't say anything about me then that's OK. You see you're free now. You don't need me. You don't need anybody. Not now. Not ever. You go on and have a good life. Find a good guy and marry him. Raise the child inside you with the right kind of guy. You don't need somebody like me. I'm just the trash somebody forgot to throw out when he was a kid. Get yourself a real guy."

Susan was in way over her head and she knew it; so many different and emotions kept swirling around inside. This was the guy she wanted. He had such low self esteem, but he had turned out to be a real hero, her hero. She hoped she never found out the other things he'd done. She only knew what she'd found out herself and what the detectives had told her. She needed a respite, "Look let's go feed Tom. There's still a lot we need to." She stopped, "Do you believe in angels?"

He didn't hesitate, "I'm sitting next to one."

"Come on." She said, "Let's go take care of Tom."

Shawn restarted the car. They drove on into the night.

As a last gestured Shawn offered, "I guess breakfast on the road is out."

Susan answered, "Very astute Einstein. You have a firm grasp of the obvious."

He grinned. It was a kind of self conscious grin, born of insecurity. Insecurity about himself, what he had to do, what he wanted to do, what he wanted her to do, and what he was afraid she would actually do. He put his arm around her as they drove on. At least he had right now. It was the moment; the moment was all that mattered. Tomorrow things would be different, things would change.

He didn't want to think about tomorrow. The sun was his enemy. When the sun came up there were decisions to be made, plans to be acted on, promises, even promises to a creature like Camulos, which had to be kept.

As they drove Susan drifted in and out of sleep; she wanted to stay awake to talk, but was having trouble staying alert. For the past several days she'd been barely able to do anything but be afraid, "I've been really afraid."

He squeezed her closer, "You've been through a lot."

"You'd never hurt me." That was a stupid thing to say. He wasn't going to hurt her. She knew that.

"Susan I will never hurt you. Well I mean I might hurt you, but not on purpose. We all do and say things we're sorry for as soon as we say them, but I'm not going to, well you know."

She had to get away from that topic, "Did you really spend all that money?"

"When you find someone you care about. I mean really care about. Money doesn't matter."

She understood that. She understood him, but she wasn't sure what he intended to do. She thought there had to be a way to make any decisions he had to make easier, "I'm rich. My family's quite rich. I can pay you back."

The last thing he wanted to talk about was money. "I don't want your money. Let's not get into that."

Susan wasn't real sure what he meant, "Into what, into the idea that I'd like to pay you back?"

Shawn was getting mad, maybe a little fidgety. He didn't want to be paid back. Being paid cheapened everything he'd done. She needed to understand money was the last thing he wanted, "You can't pay me back. There's no discussion on that. Hear me, no discussion."

Susan wanted more, "Well I can't let you walk away without something. I mean. I feel obligated to do something."

Shawn knew what he wanted. He knew what his feelings were, but he couldn't articulate them. It wasn't gratitude he wanted, "Like I said, you don't owe me or anybody anything, except maybe the baby. You owe the baby a decent chance, a good home, a life."

He wanted to tell her what he wanted the baby to have; attention, time and attention, not things, not toys, not expensive private schools, but a real home, with a real mom and real dad, people who would talk and listen and for someone to be there when they needed help or were lonely or scared.

But most of all he wanted to be there. He wanted to be there for Susan and for the baby. That's what he couldn't say, for if he said that she'd feel obligated. She'd said she loved him sure, but that was right after her rescue, that was a relief thing. If she loved him, really loved him, and wanted him in her life it had to be more than some thank goodness that's over and oh yeah you too.

Susan heard him, and thought she understood, but she wanted things for him. Did he understand what she wanted, "But what about you?"

Shawn was dead tired, "Hey let's go back to your apartment, feed the cat, get some sleep, and talk things through tomorrow."

Susan couldn't have agreed more. She was dead dog tired, "I'm going to rest my head on your shoulder, that OK?"

Shawn did better, "Here, you can lay your head on my lap, just don't touch anything."

She dropped her head down on his sticky trousers. She didn't mind. She was too tired to care.

They drove on into the early morning. She fell asleep while he drove. He watched the sky turn to a cold gray, then saw the sun peak through the shadows. It looked like it was going to be a beautiful day; a beautiful day for a lot of people. He wondered how it would work out for the two of them.