Enthralled

Enthralled, 7/?
By Scribe

Chapter Seven

The Next Morning, Early

Pyewacket was sitting in front of the shop, fur fuzzed up for a number of reasons--he was cold, and he was pissed off. When he'd slipped out along with Gilbert and his new toy a little after midnight, he'd thought they'd be back in an hour or so. Instead, he'd gotten to watch the dawn from the cold cement, instead of a comfortably warmed windowsill.

Finally Gilbert and Shep turned the corner onto the street. Pyewacket watched them approach, tail lashing in irritation. But the closer they got, the more his annoyance seeped away. They were walking very close together. Gilbert had a suit jacket draped over his shoulders, one that was too large for him, and Pye could see Shep's shirt through his coat's gap. So, the mortal had donated his jacket to keep Gilbert warm. It didn't matter that Gilbert hadn't needed it--witches didn't feel the cold like other people. What mattered was that Shep hadn't known this, but had been good to Gilbert. The charm seemed to be working very well. That pleased him, so when they arrived, he just gave them a dirty look instead of cursing.

They didn't notice. He narrowly missed getting his tail caught in the door, then had to scurry to keep from being stepped on. He changed his mind and swore anyway. He was ignored again. He sulkily followed the two men into the kitchen. When they stepped into another embrace, he ate the last few mouthfuls of food in his dish, knowing that it would probably be no use to pester anyone for food.

Shep and Gilbert kissed long and slow. They'd already begun learning what would give each other the most pleasure. Their lips parted an inch, and Shep whispered, "Say something."

Gilbert pulled back a little more, so he could look in Shep's eyes. Voice amused, he said, "Why?"

"I just want to hear your voice."

"Shep..."

"Yeah, like that. I like hearing you say my name."

Gilbert stepped away, gently breaking the embrace. "Are you intending to go home right away?"

"No. Do you want me to?" Shep sounded anxious.

"No," Gilbert slipped off Shep's suit jacket, hanging it on the back of a chair. "But if you're going to stay, don't you think you ought to take off your coat? It's only polite."

"Oh! Yes, sure." He took off his coat, hanging it on the back of another chair. As he released it, he reached automatically toward his head. As his fingers brushed his hair, he said, "Hey, where's my hat?"

Gilbert was opening a cabinet. "Somewhere downtown."

"Why?"

Gilbert took down a china teapot. "Because you threw it off the top of the Flatiron Building."

Shepherd blinked. "Why did I do that?"

Now Gil was filling a kettle at the sink. "You said something about it seemed like a good idea at the time."

"Well, that's not much of an explanation."

"That's what I thought." Gil set the kettle on the stove and turned on the burner. "However, I couldn't get you to explain."

"Why not?"

Gilbert smiled at him as he went to the cabinet again. "You were too busy kissing me."

"Oh. Oh, yeah. I remember now. But what the heck were we doing on top of the Flatiron Building?"

"Aren't you nosy this morning? We were on top of the Flatiron Building because once we got downtown you wanted to see sparkling lights spread out below as well as above, and before you ask, we were downtown in the first place because you wanted to go dancing in the snow. You're very light on your feet."

Shep sat at the table. He could feel himself grinning, and thought he probably looked pretty foolish, but at the moment, he just wasn't worried about that. "That's right. We tangoed down on 42nd, didn't we?" Gilbert just smiled. "I can't believe I did that. You know, that's really not like me."

"Tangoing?"

"Dancing on a public street." He cleared his throat. "Especially with another man. Say something else."

"Get the milk out of the fridge. There's a jug for it on the table. Is that enough?"

Shepherd opened the refrigerator and took out a small carton of milk. Pyewacket watched him closely, but when he began to fill the small creamer, the cat sighed and left the kitchen. "It's a start. Now I know you like milk in your tea. But keep talking. Tell me about yourself. I want to know all about you."

Gilbert was spooning loose tea into a tea ball. "Wouldn't you rather that I remain a bit mysterious?" He screwed it shut, setting it aside, and turned. Leaning back against the counter, he regarded Shep. "Isn't that what most men want?"

"Some of them, maybe--with people who are just a passing fancy, an amusement." Still holding the creamer, he came over to Gilbert, standing close before him. "But this is different, Gil. I've never felt this way about anyone, male or female. I've just never felt anything CLOSE to this. It... it's like I've been charmed--bewitched. All I can think about is you, and how I don't want to leave you. I mean, I could go to my apartment, or to work, but I wouldn't be able to do anything, because I'd be worrying." He reached up with his free hand, touching Gilbert's cheek. "I'd be thinking, 'what if I come back, and he's gone? What if I just dreamed him?' I don't think I could stand that, Gil. If this is a dream, I don't want to wake up, ever."

"But dreams end, Shep," said Gilbert softly. There was a faint hint of sadness in his voice. He sounded like someone speaking a hard truth.

"Yes, I suppose so. But the real things don't end. Even if they're not with you anymore, they go on. Things like love--REAL love."

Gilbert looked away. "I'd like to think that, but I wouldn't know. I've never been in love." He looked back at Shep. "Have you?"

"No. I never even tried to convince myself that I loved Merle. I liked her, and everyone said how well we suited each other, and, well, it was expected, so... But not love. I've never loved someone--till now."

Gil regarded him quietly. "You're moving very quickly, Shep."

Shep looked puzzled. "But last night... You didn't have a problem with..."

"That was sex, Shep. Don't confuse sex and love, so many people do. There can be sex without real intimacy."

Shep looked disappointed. "You don't feel it, too?"

"I... You don't understand about me. I'm different from other people."

"I know. That's part of what I love about you."

"Shep, please. People like me, they can't really love."

Shep grabbed his arm, hard, with his free hand, and his voice was fierce. "I don't believe that!" He pulled Gil against his body, staring into his eyes. "You feel it, too. I can tell. Gil, I've had these emotions all my life, feelings that the rest of the world pretended didn't exist, so I pretended, too. I thought it didn't matter. I thought I'd never meet anyone I'd want to be with, and be with only, for the rest of my life, but now I have. I want to be with you, Gil. I know it wouldn't be easy--society can be pretty harsh--but it would be worth it. I want to try, anyway. Say you'll try with me."

Gilbert stared at him, feeling an odd stirring deep in his breast. *The spell was just supposed to cause infatuation. I've never seen the like have such a strong effect on anyone. Could he possibly mean it? No, I shouldn't hope like that. Because if he DOES mean it, what do I have to offer him? He's too decent a guy to be hurt just on a whim. But, if he DOES really feel something... Could it work? Do I dare?*

"Gil, please." Shep's voice was intense.

"I want to try, Shep," said Gilbert softly.

All this time, Shep had been holding the creamer jug. Now it crashed to the floor as he took Gilbert in his arms and kissed him. Pyewacket heard the noise and came in to investigate. He gave the two men a satisfied look, then settled down to lap up the spilled milk.

~*~

A little later, Shepherd was muttering to himself as he rode the elevator up to Merle's apartment. He was rehearsing how he could best explain to his soon-to-be-ex-fiancee that getting married wasn't a good idea.

"Merle, I believe we haven't really thought this thing through. We need to ask ourselves, how well do we really know each other? I mean, people don't REALLY get to know each other till they're married, and then it's too late. There are things about me that you don't know--unpleasant things. I'm restless. I'm up to all hours of the night, and sometimes I pace. I'd keep you awake, you'd never get a good night's sleep. And... and I slurp my soup. You may notice that we've never had soup when we went out. Well, I don't eat soup in public because I sound like a straw at the bottom of an empty glass."

He'd arrived on the proper floor, and now he made his way to Merle's apartment. "I'm selfish. I'd steal all the covers, and leave you to freeze. I squeeze the toothpaste from the middle, and I never remember to put the top back on. You'll be confronted by a crusty toothpaste tube every morning."

He range the doorbell. When it was opened, Shep burst out, "And I have bad habits! I... I chew tobacco, and I SPIT!"

He heard Merle call out, "Who is it, Glenda?"

Merle's maid was staring at him. "It's Mister Henderson."

"Well, let him in."

Glenda gave him a dubious look, then called over her shoulder, "Are you sure about that?"

"Glenda!"

Shep stepped into the apartment, giving the maid an apologetic smile, and whispered, "Not on the floor. I use a spitoon."

"I'm glad to hear it." She left, muttering, "And I'm DARN sure not staying on after they get married!"

Merle was sitting on the coach, digging through a file box. "Hello, darling. I'm afraid I'm not NEARLY ready. I'm only half packed, and I still haven't found my birth certificate. Why do they want those? I think it's just a nasty ploy to find out a girl's age."

"No hurry."

She glanced at him. "Shep, you didn't leave your bags in a cab, did you? I've told you time and again that you can't trust those people."

"Um, no."

"Then we have to swing by your place to pick them up? Really, that's going to take a lot of time. Sometimes you're so impractical."

"Actually, I haven't packed anything."

She stopped sorting through the papers. "Shep! What are you thinking of? If you don't have your things, we'll have to drive straight back here, and we'll be exhausted. You know very well that no decent hotel will accept you without proper luggage, and I you can't claim some of mine, since I'm only taking an overnight bag and my make up case." She looked down. "Oh, there it is--right in front of my eyes." She pulled out a paper, then made a face at it. "I suppose it's illegal to alter these things? Oh, well." She closed the box and set it aside. "It's a good thing you're marrying me, Shep. I'll have your life whipped together in no time. Once you move in here..."

"Now, wait a minute, Merle. We never discussed my moving in here. I just leased an apartment."

"But darling, you can't expect us to live in your pokey little place. Maybe after a year or two we can start looking for someplace larger, or perhaps a place in the suburbs. Then we can get a place in Connecticut, or New Hampshire for weekends and the summer, and we'll have a place to retire to."

"RETIRE?! Merle..."

"Oh, no time soon. That would be years in the future. But soon you'll want to delegate some of your responsibilities at the job, and..."

*She's got my entire LIFE mapped out for me,* thought Shep, stunned. *And without even asking me for input.* "Merle, I don't think this is a good idea."

"Oh, not right away. But you said yourself that the firm is growing, and you're going to eventually need more help, so if you begin now, you can get them properly trained."

"That's not what I meant. I'm not talking about the job--I'm talking about the marriage."

Merle blinked, then said flatly, "What?"

That single word, and the way she looked at him, were devoid of every scrap of warmth and gentleness that he'd ever believed Merle possessed. Shep didn't back down, though. "I mean it. I know this sounds kind of abrupt, but... But this whole thing has been abrupt, hasn't it?"

"Shep, what happened to you? When you dropped me off last night you were fine with our plans, and now suddenly you want to just trash everything we've been planning for so long."

"You. All YOU'VE been planning. I've just been along for the ride, and I'm getting off the trolley, Merle." Shep was feeling stronger and more certain by the second. "You're a great girl, and I'm sure you won't have any trouble finding someone who's willing to take that ride with you, and punch your ticket, or ring your bell, or... That metaphor sort of got away from me, but you know what I mean."

Merle's disbelief was beginning to fade, replaced by suspicion. "If I didn't know what a cold fish you are, Shep, I'd think you'd met someone else."

"I'M a cold fish? I'll have you know that I... No, I don't kiss and tell."

"I don't believe this! I phoned all my friends last night, and they've been spreading the news in our set. What am I supposed to say now? I'll be humiliated!"

"Well, tell them it's YOUR idea--I won't deny it. Tell them you discovered some sort of hair-raising, deep, dark secret about me, so you broke it off. They'll believe you."

"But Shep, I had everything planned, and now you're suddenly acting like a lunatic."

"You'll get over it, Merle. Take a cruise, or redecorate." He looked around, comparing Merle's cool, sterile decor to that of Gil's living space. "It could use it. Anyway, I'm truly sorry, and I hope that we can still be friends." He smiled charmingly.

She slapped his face.

It went downhill from there.