One Stormy Night

Part 3

Lindsey was the first to arrive downstairs the next morning, the pounding in his head matched only by the sudden bout of nausea that overtook him as he made his way into the room where they had spent the better part of last evening. He was in a daze as he walked towards the bar, looking for a glass and some ice, to pour himself a glass of lemonade, minus the gin this time. A sudden noise from behind him startled him, making him drop the glass, breaking it as it hit the floor with a crash. "Shit!" He stepped gingerly around the shards, grabbing for a towel from the counter when he heard the unmistakeable voice behind him. 

"Well, good morning to you too Mr. BUCKINGHAM!" Kristen's angry, harsh tone did little for the pounding headache, as he grasped at his head, wishing he could block her out with the pressure of his hands.

"What the hell are you doing in here?" His voice came out rougher than he had meant for it to, as he flopped himself down into the easy chair at his side, still grasping at his head. "How long have you been here?" The second question came out a bit calmer, but the bitter tone in his voice conveyed the unhappiness he felt with her. 

"Ahhh, it's so nice to feel welcome in the same room with my husband! I can't tell you what kind of warm fuzzy feeling that gives me! And don't worry... I have been here long enough!" The shrieking of her voice echoed through the room, the rest of he house quiet, as Lindsey had been the only one awake when he came downstairs. He lifted his head to stare at her, his blue eyes flashing, as he ran a hand through his hair. Taking a deep steadying breath, he attempted to calm the nausea that was once again coming over him in waves, and calm his anger before things got way out of hand.

"What the hell do you mean 'you have been here long enough'?'" Lindsey asked the question, mimicking her tone as he spat the words at her. "I'm in no mood to play games with you this morning. I have a headache from hell, and my stomach is churning..." he trailed off, letting her know that he was in no shape to put up with her antics. 

"Ohhh, let's just say I came in just in time to see the two lovebirds walking upstairs, arm in arm, just like a happy couple should!" Her own voice was dripping with sarcasm as she stared him down from across the room, knowing that she was pushing his buttons. "So how was it to fuck her the first night she was here? Was it everything you had dreamed it would be?" Kristen knew it was only a matter of time before she pushed the button that set him off completely, but at the moment she didn't care. Her jealousy over Stevie had taken over, and her confusion from the night before was now blinded by rage. The guilt she had momentarily felt over her meeting with Kyle, not even registering in her mind.

Lindsey looked up just in time to see Stevie making her way into the room, her hair a disheveled mess; her own face showing the signs of a hangover. He was taken aback for a moment by the creamy, silk nightgown that clung to her body beneath the robe that hung open. Snapping out of his momentary daze, Lindsey wished he could give her some sign to stay away, wanting to spare her from the encounter he knew was coming, but knowing there was nothing he could do about it. Kristen caught the look that crossed his face, and followed his eyes to the opening in the door, her eyes meeting with Stevie's as she stepped into the room. 

"Good morning, Kristen. Lindsey." Stevie greeted, as she looked from one to the other, the feeling that she was obviously interupting something making her wish she'd stayed upstairs. Starting to walk past them, to go into the kitchen, she was halted by the other woman voicing her name, and looked back at Kristen with just a little bit of trepidation as she heard the barely concealed bitterness in the sound. "Yes?"

"Oh, I was just wondering something....and I think maybe you might be able to tell me, since my HUSBAND here doesn't seem to be able to." 

"Kristen, don't." Lindsey looked at her, his eyes holding a warning for her to stop, before she did something, SAID something, they would BOTH regret. "Leave Stevie out of this. She has nothing to do with it."