This Quantum Leap™ story utilizes characters that are copyright © by Bellasarius Productions and Universal Studios. No infringement on their respective copyrights is intended by the author in any way, shape or form. This fan fiction story is written solely for the entertainment of the readers and is not for profit. All fiction, plots, and original characters are the sole creations of the author.

Note: SEXUALLY EXPLICIT! If descriptions of consensual sex offend, please do NOT read this.


Cool air brushed his face. A deep purple sky cradled the moon in a soft halo of pale blue light. Five days earlier, Al Calavicci cheerfully fled into the New Mexico mountains that he cherished. It was past midnight and the desire to sleep escaped him. The combined smells of the brisk air, his small fire and the nearly empty cup of coffee in his hand hit a perfect balance.

Mountains revitalized him, this Navy man, this Admiral who was among the Navy's most decorated officers in their history. Only a few people knew the truth. He hated the sea. Al wanted to fly and he started his dream at Annapolis and eventually his reveries had him walking on the moon.

But that was a few decades ago. Now, in this new century, he was a happy man with a wife who not only loved him, but also was able to make the boys in the BOQ look at her with more yearning than was seemly. Four daughters, a father of four daughters made more than one old friend laugh and tell him it was God's retribution for his randy behavior before marrying the best thing that ever happened to any of them.

While his trip to Valhalla made his soul celebrate, he wanted his home. A smile crossed his face. He wasn't running away any longer as he did in the past. His time in the mountains was a way of rediscovering his quiet side. And now it was time to return. There were no regrets that he had to go back to his usual rut since he had no rut at all.

By late the next afternoon, he'd be riding his motorcycle up the drive of the home he designed and even helped build. Thoughts of the grand house threw that sappy smile on his face again. Just one more night and he'd be there. It was a night where sleep would be hard won. There was too much good in his life to let any of it drift past for something as mundane as sleep. So, even if it was past one in the morning, he wouldn't try sleep just yet. Something about night time in these mountains confirmed his relationship with his God. He pulled a notebook from his backpack, began writing a few notes and finally closed his eyes, pen in hand and notebook slipping into the dust.

His wife was having her own trouble sleeping. Beth understood his excursions, even encouraged them, but being away from him always brought desperately sad memories of his eight years away from her, his eight years living in the hell of Vietnamese prison camps. This was now, though. This time away in the mountains would not batter him, beat him, twist his body or try to kill his soul. Once those thoughts fell to the side, her heart flew with the knowledge he loved her and only her. She drifted to sleep just past three AM.

Dawn rose for both of them and each had only one mission - to see the other.


Five days of roughing it in the mountains left him strong, rejuvenated, and stinkier than the fumes from his motorcycle. The Ducati Multistrada was a performance bike and he loved the power he felt riding on unpaved mountain chicanes. When he pulled into the long driveway, his heart started beating fast because he knew his freedom wasn't over yet. Each time he returned home after these trips, he and Beth had a lot of fun and he was counting on maintaining that tradition.

The noise of the huge motorcycle alerted his wife that he was back and she smiled. He called about three hours earlier. The anticipation of her husband's return from his self-imposed exile made her suggest to their last child remaining at home that she find a friend's house for the evening. This night, their home out in the middle of nowhere New Mexico was the grown-ups' playground and children, even 17-year-old children, just didn't need to be there.

She heard the garage door open. Beth took a glass mug from the freezer and poured out ice cold root beer. The garage door closed and she walked toward the back entrance, root beer in hand. The doorknob turned and there he was dressed in very dirty, black bike leathers - her own Indiana Jones, her Officer and a Gentleman, with a touch of Dr. Strangelove and a pinch of Forrest Gump. The backpack dropped to the floor and she put the mug in his hand. "I fixed you a drink, babe."

He put the root beer to his lips and in one long gulp; he downed it all and deposited the still frosted mug on the counter. His hands went to her waist. "Kiss me quick before your husband gets home."

Her head shook from side to side. "No way. You haven't shaved for a week and you smell like vulture carrion."

Stepping back, he tried to look offended. "And I love you, too."

"You go get that ten pounds of sand off you and I'll throw your clothes into the washing machine." She moved toward the backpack. "Anything in here I need to be warned about?"

The trip had only one small event that he couldn't hide. "Well, I did have a little problem one night." Her eyes narrowed into his and she didn't have to say a word. "I may have taken a little tumble. You're going to find some things in there that are kind of bloody. All dried now, but they're kind of yucky."

"Albert Calavicci, what did you do? And before you walk through my clean house, get out of those dirty leathers.

Winking at his bride, he whispered, "You want me naked already?"

She had to laugh. "Oh yeah. There's nothing sexier than a man covered in dirt standing in my kitchen in his shorts."

He loved these homecoming moments. Teasing his wife was fun and she gave back as well as he gave. "How do you know I'm not going commando?"

"Even you're not silly enough to go commando in leather pants, but if you did, don't think that I'm going to help separate certain body parts from the leather. You're on your own there."

"Yeah, well, there is that."

The jacket came off with a puffy cloud of dust revealing a long-sleeved tee-shirt that might possibly get white again. The silt sifting to the floor made her push him back into the garage. "Take it all off out there. I'm not going to be spending your homecoming washing my floors and neither are you."

One step back in the garage, he unlaced a heavy biking boot. He whispered in a sexy low voice, "You do want me naked." The boot clunked to the garage floor.

"Of course, I do, but I want you clean and smelling good first. The second boot fell. "Now, tell me how you hurt yourself and how angry am I going to get?"

Grimy socks came off next with a puff of dirt smoke. "Not too angry. Lot's of blood, not so much of a hurt."

The description made her nervous. She'd been a nurse for 20 years and a doctor for 25. The description gave away his injury. "You cracked your head open?"

The leather pants were next. One leg was down when he told her, "It was stupid. I made camp and put my helmet down. It started rolling into this little ravine. I reached to catch it and didn't make it, so I rolled after it. Banged my head on a rock. It wasn't pretty, but at least my helmet didn't get damaged." He lifted the tee-shirt over his head. "I did what you taught me. I didn't move for a few minutes to be sure everything was okay and then I put pressure on it. Took awhile for the bleeding to stop though." He stood before her wearing briefs and a smile. "But I'm all better now."

Her skepticism showed. "Where did you bop your head?"

He cautiously fingered a spot behind his left ear. "Right about . . . ouch. Found it."

A scolding finger pointed toward the center of the room. "Sit. I want to take a look at it."

Years earlier, he learned to pick his battles. She wouldn't let him out of the kitchen until she examined the swollen lump on his head. "Yes, ma'am."

"When did you do this?"

"First night out."

She growled a little which he chose to ignore. Once in the chair, deft fingers parted his hair and located the week-old jagged wound. "You did a number here, Admiral. You should have had a stitch or two. Too late now. You'll live."

"Thought as much. I didn't get a headache or anything. I kept it clean, too."

"Good boy. Mama's proud of you." She kissed the top of his head. "Now, go clean up pretty. We have a lot of not talking to do."

So he danced off toward the bedroom singing Born to be Wild leaving her to hang up his leathers and start a load of laundry.

Project Quantum Leap, the nearest neighbors to Casa Calavicci, was two miles away and town was another five miles past that. Built for parties, the house had guest bedrooms, a massive great room, a swimming pool and amenities that rivaled the most elegant estates in the Hamptons but without the pretensions. The Admiral drew the plans and worked on the construction as much as his schedule allowed. It was an oasis, immediately a home and yet more than that. It was sanctuary for him, his family, and the staff at the Project. All escaped to the casa often and were welcomed. In fact, a select few had keys to the outside guest house and could just decide to come at whim. Casa Calavicci was their Town Hall, the local pool, their nice quiet place for a drink and a snooze, and the biggest, bawdiest party house on the planet.

The master bath was a magnificent room, designed to be much more than a place to bathe. The whirlpool tub and glass-block walk-in shower easily fit two consenting adults and they consented a lot. His briefs fell from his hips and he threw them into a hamper. The shower steamed up the glass quickly and he stepped inside. Grabbing the bar across from the jets, he reached down to scrub a few pounds of grime from his legs. Days of trail dirt spun down the drain. Soap lathered away the carrion scent and lightened his Mediterranean skin a few shades. Warm jets pulsed relaxation into the muscles of his shoulders and the bliss his life had become calmed his soul. His eyes closed as he stuck his head under the water. The cut behind his ear was a little tender, but shampooing his hair was necessary. He probably could have gotten away without conditioning it, but he was meticulous about his appearance. A guy's guy may run off into the mountains on occasion, but when he got home, he made sure he looked good. The conditioner rinsed off and he could tell he needed a haircut. The curls he hated began to trail down his neck. It wasn't so bad though. Beth liked the curls. Women in general liked them, though why always remained a mystery.

The soap whirled down the drain. The shampoo and conditioner followed it and he was ready for homecoming to begin, almost. Shaving cream oozed into his hand from the heated dispenser. He spread it over the stubble on his face. Soon, shaving cream and five days of beard followed the shampoo to wherever it went.

Beth threw a load of wash into the machine and got a thick layer of dust off his backpack. She dumped the bag in the corner of the kitchen and moved back to the garage to get his leathers. Taking care of them would take more time than she wanted to spend, so they hung in the laundry room until she had nothing better to do and God knows she had something much better to do.

In the bedroom, she took off her jeans and the blouse he'd given her. The slinky little bra and panties stayed on. He kind of liked to take care of that stuff himself. The windows overlooked a private garden and flooded the room in sunlight. Bare feet padded on the tile floor and she slipped into the shower. His back was to her. He did have the cutest butt. Even after all these years, he had the cutest butt. Her hands rested low on his hips. "Hey sailor, looking for a good time?" Leaning forward, she kissed the back of his neck. "You clean up good." Fingers started playing with the wet curls. "You need a haircut, baby." She adjusted the shower to a sweet, barely-misting rain.

"That's not all I need." His right hand touched hers and she moved in front of him under the spray of the warm water. She pulled her wet hair off her face and looked into his eyes. The game had begun. Coy and seductive, she tilted her head a little, closed her eyes and ran her tongue so slowly over her lips, inviting him into her, and making just the slightest sound.

He never could resist his Beth. Kissing her was confirmation that God existed. The sensation of her lips astounded his senses. She tasted sweet, like wild flower honey, and she nourished his soul. His tongue slipped into her mouth and together they exchanged passion on this purely physical level. They kissed as if they had never kissed before, yet with the certainty that only comes with true love and time. Her tongue heated his blood until he felt on fire. Only the need to breathe separated them.

Caring arms wrapped around his strong back, her hands slowly moving up and down. The scars of his incarceration in Vietnam were so much a part of who he was that she didn't spend more than a second mourning his evil years there. This wasn't the time. The time was now and this was their healing. She buried her head in his smooth chest. "Hold me."

There was no need to ask twice. Feeling her in his arms was his reason to live. So softly, he whispered in her ear, "Don't ever leave me."

She pushed into his body even more. After all these years, he still needed reassurance. "My love, my only love."

Erect nipples pressed against his chest. One hand expertly unfastened the pink silk bra, transparent in the water. He cupped her breast and pulled the wet bra from her body. As it fell to the floor, he licked the cleft between her perfect breasts and took her nipple with his lips. His hands danced down her torso, then lower until his fingers gently ran along the inside of her thigh.

She gasped as he tenderly massaged the wet fold between her legs. "Al, I love you so much."

Slowly he kissed her breasts, then her flat stomach, smiling when he came to her belly button. Kissing her there made her giggle every time and that sound somehow reaffirmed their flawlessness for each other. Finally on his knees, he sat back on his heels and pulled down the silk panties. His arms wrapped around her, caressing her soft cheeks, laying his head against her clean shaven mound. The shower continued to spray warm water against their seething bodies. Grateful for the misty cover, he let a tear fall. This was his love, the woman who waited, the one who gave him reason to exist, the one who offered to live with him until death they did part. "You're all I need in this world. I love you. God, how I love you."

Reading between the lines was easy. Something made her realize he felt unlovable. It happened often enough and too often during sex. Like her husband, she knelt on the shower floor and took his face in her hands. "No one makes me happy like you. No one ever could." Her lips went to his and again they explored his body, trying to bring him so close that nothing could separate them. "Al, I can't be without you. My life would end." It was her turn to run a hand along his thigh and feel him growing hard.

Time ended or stood still - he couldn't tell, but he had to kiss her, her eyelids, her perfect nose, her sensuous earlobes, that sexy hollow above her collar bone. He had to continue kissing her even though his body hardened more and more, waiting to enter her. His back touched the shower floor and he opened his legs. Reaching up, he pulled her body on top of his, again taking her breasts into his mouth. The stimulation made her body shudder in anticipation of the most holy orgasm. Her hips rocked and she led his hands to her hips. He was ready and so was she.

Water continued to fall down on them, a gentle shower, a cleansing that purified them as she opened herself. Sliding into her body, he felt her surrounding him with tight heat, her body beginning a private embrace, softly, wildly tightening around him. He guided the thrusts with his hands and she moved rhythmically with his intentions.

Throwing her head back, her flesh trembled and her gasps sounded out in rhythm with his thrusts. Each movement made her pant softly, "Yes." Again he lifted her slightly and she had to tell him, Yes." His hands ran up the side of her wet torso and devotedly took her breasts. "Yes." She whimpered as he picked up the pace, the water running over both their slick bodies. Surrounded with steam and heat, he felt her orgasm start. Her muscles clenched, an electric current streaming through her to him and back. She moaned with ecstasy as he rode out his orgasm, pumping deeply into her wildly bucking hips. The sound of the shower disappeared as the pounding of their hearts intensified, roaring like a tsunami, filling their ears with only the sounds of their love. "Yes!" She had to tell him. "Yes!" and when they both climaxed, their need to make love continued.

Beth put her hands on the floor behind her and sat back, both of them needing a moment to catch a breath. He was still inside her, but they weren't ready to break the intimate physical connection. His forearm covered his eyes. As he sat up, he pulled from her body and reached out to her. Turning her back to him, she sat close, his chest supporting her as she leaned against her love. Both arms held her tightly. His face buried in her brunette hair.

The shower still cascaded them like a gentle spring rain. Her hand stroked his strong arm and without a thought to it, she whispered, "I love you, Al." With her words, he kissed her neck and then rested his head on her shoulder. In quiet, nestled in each other's body, they were not surprised when their hearts began to beat in synchronicity. Beth curled up onto his lap and held onto him. He lightly rocked with a comforting motion that brought peace even further into their souls. They kissed again.

Al rolled his bride onto her back and pressed against her. Erect nipples against his chest coaxed his hands to play with them. Her body delighted in his desire to continue. Hot waves of pleasure raged from her breasts throughout her body. Her erotic sounds spurred him on. He teased her taut nipples. His primal needs became overwhelming and he had to pull back and stop. He lay down next to her. He never would allow sex to supersede his love for his beautiful Beth. Without her, sex was empty and useless. Continuing without concern for her was impossible.

She stopped her whimpering sounds, opened her eyes and wrapped her far leg over his hips. "Baby, it's okay. I want more. Please, don't stop. Don't stop."

Her face looked so disappointed that he held his breath and then moaned deeply. Easing back on top of her, he took her lips with his, this time harder and more desperately.

Beth kissed him, holding him tightly against her, guiding his hands to her breasts. She wanted to taste him, to feel him making her body shiver with ecstasy. Again, his hand found her mound and pleasured her cleft. She felt the onset of another orgasm. "Baby, that's so good." Lightly dancing fingers played her as his lips found her breast again. Her moaning grew in volume as his tongue caressed her nipple and began to suckle. Her hand reached down and rested on his as he continued to fondle her. "It's so good, baby."

His fingers massaged her soft flesh. He pushed a finger inside her, then two and her groans were suffused with light laughter as she tried to prolong that most desirable of sensations. Beth felt her arousal become nearly unbearable. She took him in her hands and felt him grow under her hand, her smile of contentment so big that she tasted the mists falling over them. She pushed him toward her opening. His first thrust was gentle. Never in all their years of making love did he hurt her. Beyond talking now, she gasped as she met each thrust with one of her own. Al held her hips and then moved his hand to cup her rear, helping to coordinate their passion. Her muscles contracted around him, pulling him deeper and deeper inside. She clung to him, her orgasm rolling over her body, her teeth biting into her bottom lip. He came and together they soared to a summit where love was beyond the physical or even the emotional. It was spiritual rejoicing to soothe the body, the mind and the heart in ways unattainable to those never making a commitment to another human being.

They curled in each other and held on simply feeling the warmth of their love. For ten minutes, they just sat in quiet and knew nothing required saying. Beth looked at her fingers. The prune-like tips evidenced that they needed to take a break from the running water. "Sweetheart, let's go dry off, okay?"

There was no doubt, Al loved to talk and he was good at it, but when he made love to his Beth, words failed him. There was little chatter during their time together and he remained quiet, unable to make conversation for nearly an hour afterward. The silent treatment bothered Beth when they first married, but she began to realize that he needed time to convince himself that the profound joy and love he felt was truly his, that he was deserving of it and she would never leave him as so many others had.

He took a deep breath and stood. One hand turned off the water as the other reached down to her. Once on her feet, they kissed again. Beth led him out of the shower and into the main part of the bath. Two large towels hung near the window. Taking the nearest one, she gently touched it to his face, then to his chest. The towel between them, he kissed her again. They sat on the cedar bench next to the Jacuzzi, still kissing. She heard his stomach growl and pulled back. Patting his almost-as-flat-as-it-used-to-be tummy, she said, "Sounds like you've been eating well." His response was to kiss her. Once again, she backed off. "I know what you want, baby, but you need some food in you. Let's get you dried off. Turn around. Let me get your back."

Still no words from him, but he followed orders. She tenderly placed the towel against the evil even now evident on his beautiful body 30 years after his imprisonment. There wouldn't be any remarks. She'd hold her sadness inside, but the rich thickness of the towel couldn't keep her from feeling the deep ridges striping his back. Without a thought, she leaned over and kissed a jagged rope-like brand that nearly took his life just a day before Marines found him wasting away deep in the jungles of North Vietnam. It was an unthinking move bringing attention to a time in his life that he worked doggedly to repress, but she simply wanted him to know she accepted all of him, even these gruesome souvenirs from hell. She felt him pull forward and watched him turn to her. He kissed her again and took the towel from her hands. Smiling in a way that always melted her heart, he began to dry her shoulders. It was his way of saying, "That's not part of now. Don't look at it." His eyes stared down, embarrassed that he was so grotesquely marked.

Beth took the towel from him and walked across the bathroom. A dry towel found her hands and she handed it to him. "Finish drying off and I'll start making some dinner." Her mouth reached his for one more deep exchange of love. "I love you so much, Al. You are all that's good in my life. You are so perfect."

Her words settled into his soul. He knew he was smiling and just hoped that it showed on his face. Watching her walk away, towel-drying her hair made him sigh. After more than 40 years together, she still loved him and he still couldn't believe it. She vanished from his sight and he finished drying his body.

When he reached their bedroom, he found clean underwear and socks already laid out on the bed along with his favorite jeans. His sneakers were on the floor. Finally, he found a laugh. At least she was going to let him choose his own shirt. By the time he was thumbing through the closet for the last bit of clothes he needed, he smelled Italian sausage cooking on the grill and marinara sauce simmering on the stove. His hand found a red silk shirt with an occasional gold thread woven through it. A comb tamed only a few of the curls alighting on the collar of his shirt, but he really didn't worry about it. She liked his hair this length so it would be fine. The dresser held a picture frame. There they were, all his girls, Beth, Gia, Toni, Peri and Allie. All of them were beautiful and they gave him purpose. He had no right to feel this happy with his life, but he decided he didn't care. He was happy and it was time to revel in that happiness.

The kitchen fragranced the entire house and his growling stomach grew more anxious for its meal. Soft music filtered through the air, his favorite disk, one she compiled after living with him for 40 years. She saw him coming toward her. "Farfalle with ricotta and sausage. You want to do the finals for it?" As he nodded, she told him, "I'll get a couple of glasses of Chianti."

He drained the pasta, stirred in some marinara sauce, a little fresh ricotta and thin slices of sausage. Beth stood by the patio door. "Let's eat outside." After plating their food and grabbing silverware, he followed her to the wrought iron table that sat 10 feet from the kidney-shaped swimming pool. The day was turning into dusk and the glow from the setting sun threw warm shadows across the veranda. He sat so that his knee would touch hers. Still non-verbal, she knew this was his conversation. This light touch was telling her, "I'm home. I love you. I want to be here," and also letting her know that he had to remain quiet a little longer.

The music unobtrusively and softly infiltrated the scene until the sound of beautiful strings ushered in Ray Charles' plaintive voice, "Georgia, Georgia, the whole day through, just an old sweet song keeps Georgia on my mind." He neatly placed his fork on the plate and took her hand. "As sweet and clear as moonlight through the pines." Holding her in his arms, they danced, tightly embracing. "Still in peaceful dreams I see the road leads back to you."

The song continued as they made love again just with their eyes. As he heard the melancholy lyric, "No peace I find," his head tilted up and he kissed her forehead. It was something he did every time they danced to this song, their song.

His kiss, this special kiss during this special song held mythic stature for her. It recollected a magic night when her doubts flew away and she knew his road would lead back to her. There was purity in his silence, a kind of magnificent strength giving her understanding how he managed to survive hell. Her head fell against his shoulder and she breathed in his essence. "Oh, Al." That was the only response she ever gave when this song, this kiss, this moment occurred.

They didn't hear the next song. They just danced slowly, clinging to the other half of their being. Their bodies swayed and the rapture carried them just as close as their earlier encounter. The sun faded and stars dotted the rich indigo night. Nothing mattered but the adoration each held and would hold forever in loving arms.

Moonlight faintly outlined the silhouette of the perpetual mountains. Two small people in this gigantic eternity seemed insignificant in many ways, but the vastness of the universe paled when compared to the immensity of their love. Beth curled up in his lap on the over-sized chaise, again her head against his chest. His heartbeat thrilled her with its strength and comforted her with its faithfulness. They fell asleep.

A few hours later, Al awoke and with tenderness some didn't think he had, he carried his bride to their room and laid her down on the thick comforter jacketing their bed. He pulled a small throw over her and made his way back to the patio where he cleared away their very cold dinner. He scraped away the leftovers and placed the dishes in the kitchen sink. Off in the corner of the room he saw his backpack. The old leather backpack was outdated, but she gave it to him and whenever he was away from her, it came along. There was something in it he wanted to find. His notebook was safe in the outside pocket. He found the entry he wanted and left the book open. When he got back to the bedroom, he lay down beside his Beth and joined her in restful sleep.


The morning glowed and her heart felt as if it were flying. In the shadows of the sunlight, she saw him next to her still asleep, resting with an exquisitely peaceful look on his face. Her hand reached out to move a curl off his forehead, but she stopped, fearing that any touch might wake him. No, he needed this soothing respite and she wouldn't take it from him. For a full five minutes, she simply looked at him and then quietly left the bed to prepare for her day.

She walked into the bathroom and turned on the faucet. As she grabbed her toothbrush, her eye caught sight of the glass blocks. The recollection of their time in the shower threw a wicked grin on her face. With any luck, they'd have time to enjoy another shower before Allie returned home hoping that her parents wouldn't mortify her yet again.

Teeth were brushed, a much quicker shower taken and she dressed. When she saw the dishes in the sink she laughed, "You couldn't wash them?" Sometimes he was just such a "guy" and did such "guy" things like leaving the dishes. As she reached under the cabinet for the detergent, she saw his notebook obviously left for her to see. She carried the spiral bound book to the kitchen table, sat down and began to read aloud a poem he'd written, not noticing that her husband, her lover, her reason for life, her soul was watching from the doorway. Her rich voice began,
"With arrogance certain
He wandered an eye
And there
The heart
He never wanted
To believe could exist

"But his sky
Demanded dark
And her flame
Had a mandate
To ignite
God's stars"

Unseen still, he shook his head, remembering that time when he pretended he knew what life was and, in truth, was clueless.

Beth continued on,
"He tried to
Empty all thoughts
Of this woman
Her perfection
Would not tolerate
Soulless creatures
Like the one
He knew
He was born
To be"

Yeah, maybe it sounded dramatic to people who didn't realize the man as well as they thought, but she knew his young life convinced him there was no worth nor value in his being alive. It hurt her so much to know he felt contemptible. She sighed with sadness and read,
"But she saw not
His shadows
But only his struggle
For the sun
She offered him
Refuge from bleakness
Without asking him
To leave it behind

"She saw not
His tattered body
But only his struggle
Toward hope
She introduced him
To a soul
She claimed
Belonged to him"

Breathing was getting difficult. The last few words stared at her, but saying them was proving too hard. She could barely stammer,
"She saw not
A boy still
In too many ways"

And there was no continuing until she heard from behind her,
"She saw not
A boy still
In too many ways
But a man
Wanting home
More than he realized
She gave him
A chance
For complete"

Beth closed the notebook and gazed into his eyes. He walked to her and knelt down, putting his head in her lap and wrapping his arms around her. Her fingers tenderly touched the faultlessness of his face. "Oh, Al."

He whispered, "My chance for complete."

The End

Born to Be Wild © Mars Bonfire
Georgia © Hoagy Carmichael & Stuart Gorrell