Back In Time

Chapter 8: In Which I Sympathize with A Killer

Wait a minute. Is that why I'm here? Am I supposed to change that whole mess? I thought for a minute, trying to remember how old Claude and Claudine were. I knew Niall was around, but I couldn't remember if I'd even known the twins' actual age. But how the hell could I change any of that without changing everything? Sure, I would happily skip meeting Bill and all his bullshit, but Eric was my destiny. I knew that like I knew the sky was blue, it was just a fact. How could I change one thing, or anything, without possibly changing my future with him? Had I already changed it? Shit, was I turning my life into something like that Eric Bana movie with the time traveling? Was Eric going to know me now before I knew him? My head was spinning and I seriously needed to calm the eff down.

"I really need to go to sleep," I admitted, tiredly brushing a strand of hair away from my face. I had a million questions of my own, but I needed to get to bed.

"Of course," Eric responded immediately. He turned back into the bedroom, motioning me to follow. "Forgive us, we are not used to feeling the pull of the sun as keenly as one your age."

I walked toward the doorway, noticing that Godric was still studying my face. He gave me a small smile when he saw me look at him, which I returned warily. I wasn't sure what was up with him turning into Creepy McCreeperston all the sudden but I wasn't a big fan. When I got into the bedroom, Eric was holding a linen potato sack out to me. I grimaced when I realized that must be some sort of nightgown, but figured it would be a hell of a lot more comfortable to sleep in than the dress I had on.

I took it from him, nodding my thanks, and he retreated to the door. I cleared my throat, realizing I had no idea how to get out of this dress. I figured if anybody in the world knew how to get one of these things off, it would be the blonde Don Juan walking away from me. "Um, Eric?"

"Yes?" He turned his head, one eyebrow raised curiously.

"Could you help me get out of this dress?" I asked, squinting one eye uncertainly. He flashed his bad boy smile at me and turned back into the room immediately.

"I thought you'd never ask," his voice was like velvet but the words were so Typical Eric that I had to snort out a laugh. I turned my back toward him so he could reach the ties.

"If you can just get it untied, I can take it off myself," I told him, wanting to be clear. I heard him make a 'tsk' kinda sound and felt him pulling on the laces.

"As you wish," he sounded martyred and I had to roll my eyes. After a few minutes of tugging and pulling, I felt the heavy outer dress sagging down. He immediately began work on the corset laces. "We'll figure this out, you don't need to fret about it," he said softly behind me. I felt a sudden lump in my throat at his words, and blinked my eyes rapidly a few times.

"I know," I answered, clearing my throat again. We basically had to figure something out, eventually. I was just worried about how long it would take us. I couldn't imagine being away from Eric for much longer. My Eric, that is. "You're probably losing your mind with worry right now. In the future, I mean."

His hands stopped for the briefest of moments and I'd have loved to see his face right then. He recovered quickly, and a moment later I felt the greatest sense of relief as those laces came loose as well. His hand brushed against my bare neck, sending goosebumps racing down my back.

"I'd be a fool not to," he whispered against my ear. I could feel his breath against my skin and had to repress the shudder that threatened to shake my body. My breath hitched for a second, but I recovered quickly. I turned to give him some sass but he was no longer behind me. He had zipped into the other room, and I exhaled a deep breath. He was essentially Eric, but technically I'd met him only hours before. I didn't know how I felt about jumping into bed with him right off the bat. I mean, I knew how I felt about it (tingly, excited, rip roaring' ready to go) but I didn't know how I felt about it. Would it be cheating? Technically? If I slept with him off that bat, would he respect me like he should? I know that sounded stupid, but I also knew a big part of his initial attraction to me was my resistance. Did I really want to sleep with him? Or did I want to sleep with him because I knew how much he would mean to me, 500 years down the road?