"Picnic on Aix" (Nine/Rose) 5/5 nc-17
Jan. 29th, 2012 02:15 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fannishlisstitle: Picnic on Aix, Part Five
author:![[info]](https://fannishliss.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif?v=88.8)
fannishliss
pairing: Nine/Rose
rating: NC17 this part
length: 11,100 words -- complete! Part Five is 2100 words.
summary: The Tardis strands the Doctor and Rose until they deal with their unresolved tension (post Father's Day).
Author's Note: This story is for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
develish, who wanted the Tardis to strand them until they worked out their UST. Hope you enjoy! Thanks to everyone who commented on these parts for your encouragement.
Part One ; Part Two ; Part Three ; Part Four :
And so they run, crazy, laughing through the quiet streets of a French village on a distant future planet, and he fumbles the key twice getting them into the bookstore, and they charge up the stairs, giggling and whispering like they're drunk off their feet, but they're not, they're just so, so in love, and they've waited so long, so many lifetimes, and not another second's delay will be tolerated by either of them.
===
The bed is so narrow, a maiden's bed, but Rose Marion Tyler isn't a maiden. By the age of nineteen, she's been through the affairs of the heart, seen betrayal, rigidity, laziness and disappointment from all sides, and she knows what it means to be a friend, a lover, a partner, the other half of someone's soul -- because she's found the soul at last who is her other half. All this she offers up to him on her narrow bed, and he thanks the universe for its mercy in giving him to her, the one young thing in all creation who could take such an ancient, broken creature as he's become, and put him back together again, better than he ever was.
The bed is more than wide enough, so closely they press against one another, kissing, greedy fingers pushing cloth aside until it's flung away, and it's not long before Rose is naked on the bed, the covers kicked down, and she's fiery hot against the coolness of his skin, flushed all over with desire, the musky human scent of her arousal thickening the masculine parts he'd thought were long dormant until she brought them eagerly back to life.
He remembers, vaguely, through a distant haze, the wife he'd taken long ago according to the way of his people: a respectful mingling of minds, her receptivity triggering his climax inside her body, his gratitude for bearing him a daughter. Gallifreyans armored themselves with propriety and ceremony and thick heavy clothing, desperate to keep from drowning in the rumbling morass of undifferentiated thought.
He'd never dared to hope that falling in love would be so different. He had loved, of course, but not like this, not with every thought, every breath of his being, yearning to get inside her and never be apart from her. Not like this, with all the lusts of his body, the pounding of his hearts, the exultant ache of his soul calling out to mate with hers.
He is a quick learner, and he already knows so much about the way she likes to be touched. She thrills to his strength; she likes feeling the power he's holding back, yearning against the gentleness he unleashes against her; she loves the teasing touches that leave her arching toward him, every muscle quivering for more.
She loves to be directed and praised. "Put your hands here," he says, and her heart simply pounds, and "good girl" makes her shudder and moan. "Do you like this?" he says, even though he knows she does, because her moans of "oh, yes!" multiply her pleasure exponentially.
"Do you know how beautiful you are?" he says, and she shakes her head, and he says, "So very beautiful." He investigates her body, taking his time, praising every part of her in rich detail as he glories in it: "such luscious lips… the strong column of your neck, the secret place here behind your ear that smells so good, this little area here between your breasts that's distracted me for so long, where I'd see a drop of sweat trickle down and yearn to chase it with my tongue, like this… and oh, these breasts, so soft and delicious, and it makes you feel so good when I kiss them, doesn't it?" Her wordless moans drive him on, and he kisses her nipples, suckling, nibbling, nosing at her as he fondles and strokes her sides and belly.
"Oh Rose, do you know how delicious you smell? I have a good sense of smell, you know… your scent hangs all over the Tardis, driving me crazy … sometimes I smell you on your own hand, did you know that?" He licks at her, making luxurious sounds as the taste of her skin explodes on his tongue.
Her legs fall open, admitting the wanderings of his curious, questing fingers, and he feels like a devil, encouraging her to explore her own desire for his enjoyment. "Here, give me your hand. See how wet you are— I like that very much. Do you like it gentle, teasing?"
She moans her assent, her body shuddering with pleasure under his hand and hers joined together.
He urges her on. "Tease yourself for me— that's the way. It's so lovely, touching your body's most delicate place, together like this. Can you feel how ready you are? Guide my fingers however you like best. Let me stroke you open, Rose -- your most beautiful blossom opening for me, so slick and ready."
By this point, Rose is in a fever of arousal, her thoughts so loud they ring into his mind, pounding out his name amid declarations of her desire.
"I think you need a little relief, would you like that?" he murmurs, sliding down her body.
"Oh! yes, please Doctor," is all she can muster.
"May I kiss you, here, and put my fingers inside you?" He doesn't need to ask, he knows what she wants, but his words inflame her even more.
Eyes tightly closed, fists full of bed sheet, Rose opens her legs a little more, her thighs quivering with need.
"Please, please, please--" Now she's the one begging.
He peers down at her sex, wet and flushed and smelling heavenly. He delicately licks, and her arousal floods into his brain. He parts her folds and slips a finger inside, feeling her grip and flutter around him, then he easily adds another finger, feeling for the place inside her that drives her wild. Still licking, ever so lightly, he finds that place, and holds her down as she bucks when he strokes there, gentle, but deep and insistent. She's chanting his name now, begging, and it sounds so sweet. Finally he lowers his mouth to her sex, and begins to suck at the little cluster of nerves, and she roars, clamping down on him, pounding her fists, and he feels so proud, and by the vortex, how he wants to be inside her, to feel that hot strength caressing his own sex.
He eases away from her, lets her catch her breath. Her face is flushed as she tries to breathe, shaking from the wracking climax he's just given her. He takes her mouth again in a lazy kiss, letting her taste her own flavor. Her lips are so soft and relaxed -- he's given this to her -- and there's more to come.
"Oh, Doctor," she moans, "that was lovely. So lovely!"
He forgives her for running out of words.
"Make love to me?" she asks.
"I was, or so I thought?" he teases.
"Very well, too!" she agrees, smiling -- "but I mean, with -- or don't Time Lords do it that way?"
"I can, but I need to be in your mind as well," he says. Time Lords had given up sex -- how stupid of them!
"Please," Rose says, lifting his fingers to her temples.
He easily slips into her mind, now that they've thrown down their defenses, and he's amazed yet again by the glorious love she feels for him.
"Oh, Rose," he sings out, "Feel how grateful I am to you, how in awe of you I am, how much I love you, how I adore you!"
"Oh, my Doctor," Rose answers. "I've been waiting for you. How could we have waited for so long?"
"I don't know-- just stubborn, I reckon!"
Their mental laughter rings out like bells and sunlight and flashes of joy.
"I want you to make love to me," Rose thinks, and the Doctor feels his body respond.
"Your wish is my command," he says, reclaiming the words from the sting of his earlier, near-fatal mistake.
He feels his sex swelling, questing for hers, and he presses inside her. It's so, so good, her heat embracing him, caressing him, surrounding him with the feeling of her crescendo into ecstasy. He soaks up her pleasure, multiplies it, and feeds it back, pulsing inside her, expanding to fill her, thrusting with his hips, pinning her down as she opens herself to him.
"Take me-- make me yours forever," she pleads with her thoughts.
His mind surges forward, unable to resist staking such a claim. With a monumental effort, he holds back just long enough to ask, "Forever? Be sure -- forever mine, Rose Tyler?"
"Oh, yes, Doctor -- yes!" Her whole being rings with such a resounding yes that he fairly seizes her, body, mind and soul, latching onto her with all his considerable strength. He's been mistaken for a god, but now he stakes his claim on his Goddess, threading himself through her, in and out of time, releasing his seed into her body, howling his rapture into her thoughts, and losing himself in ecstasy when their souls come together, sealing the two of them forever in holy union.
When he comes back to himself, he finds he is smiling, and she is too, stroking him and gazing at him at smiling, the sweet, wise, loving smile that's always been his to claim.
"I love you," he says simply. He scoops up her hand, and kisses it.
"I love you, too," she answers, and she scoots even closer to him, twining their limbs together, and there is plenty of room for the two of them on the narrow bed.
He watches her as she sleeps, chases butterflies into her dreams, and wakes her with the sunlight in the morning.
She opens her eyes, and smiles at him. He smiles back.
"Forever," she says.
"Yeah," he says. He reaches out with a tendril of thought, just to see her eyes widen.
"We -- you -- we don't need to touch?" she gasps.
"No -- is that all right?" he says. There are defenses he can teach her if it isn't.
"It's brilliant!" she laughs, and her joyful laughter pours into his mind. He's going to have to learn how to be seriously happy now that Rose has access to his brain.
It's hard for them to get out of bed, after such a night of bliss, so many hours made wonderful with cuddles and kisses, clever fingers and happy thoughts -- but when her stomach growls despite his Time Lord physiology efficiently regulating hers -- they get up, and shower as best they can with so many hot, wet distractions -- and make their way beaming downstairs.
"Good morning!" Justine laughs, pointing at the clock. It's late afternoon.
They wave, laughing sheepishly, and head out to find nourishment and tea. They linger over soup and salad, drinking tea and talking. The Doctor is sure he's never felt so relaxed before, in any lifetime. Always, he's been at the mercy of that near-crippling urge to dash toward the next adventure -- but now, that urge feels sated, at least for the moment, Rose's hand over his, her thoughts sparkling musically through his like a stream through a forest, and their quiet conversation -- full of play, cleverness, interchange, brilliance-- he's never known what it it's like to be this happy.
As though to harden himself with some minor disappointment, he suggests they walk out to the Tardis to try the key.
Rose chuckles. "When she locked us out, it felt like the end of the world," she says.
"I know," he says ruefully.
"Now, of course, I don't want to be locked out, but I don't feel the hurry," she says.
"Me neither!" he laughs. His wonderful, faithful Tardis, must've recognized Rose long before he did.
They caper and play as they walk out of town and across the field. Like a dream, the journey takes a fraction as long as the first several times they trudged it. The trees are nearly deafening with birdsong. The sun shines hot. It seems spring has sprung with a vengeance.
The Doctor laughs as he digs the key out of his pocket. They look at it together, and letting out his breath, he puts the key in the lock. It turns and the door swings open. The hum of the Tardis sings into their minds, a loud welcome home.
"Oh!" Rose says, laughing.
"Ha, ha," the Doctor shouts into the Tardis.
Rose darts off to her room to pack a few things. The Doctor waits, his hand on the console. The Tardis seems smug.
"This what you were after all along, then?" he asks.
She hums on, innocently. Under the console, the vortex sings in her heart, as it somehow already sings in Rose's. He knows now he has nothing to fear from loving a creature who seems so short-lived and fragile -- she's something much bigger and stronger than he has ever been. Nothing to fear, everything to look forward to.
Rose bounces back into the console room, all energy, ready for anything.
"Back to town, eh? I packed another dress!" she laughs, a dare in her tone.
The Doctor laughs too, and he picks her up, swings her around, and kisses her. He's actually looking forward to a lot more dancing.
author:
fannishlisspairing: Nine/Rose
rating: NC17 this part
length: 11,100 words -- complete! Part Five is 2100 words.
summary: The Tardis strands the Doctor and Rose until they deal with their unresolved tension (post Father's Day).
Author's Note: This story is for
develish, who wanted the Tardis to strand them until they worked out their UST. Hope you enjoy! Thanks to everyone who commented on these parts for your encouragement. Part One ; Part Two ; Part Three ; Part Four :
And so they run, crazy, laughing through the quiet streets of a French village on a distant future planet, and he fumbles the key twice getting them into the bookstore, and they charge up the stairs, giggling and whispering like they're drunk off their feet, but they're not, they're just so, so in love, and they've waited so long, so many lifetimes, and not another second's delay will be tolerated by either of them.
===
The bed is so narrow, a maiden's bed, but Rose Marion Tyler isn't a maiden. By the age of nineteen, she's been through the affairs of the heart, seen betrayal, rigidity, laziness and disappointment from all sides, and she knows what it means to be a friend, a lover, a partner, the other half of someone's soul -- because she's found the soul at last who is her other half. All this she offers up to him on her narrow bed, and he thanks the universe for its mercy in giving him to her, the one young thing in all creation who could take such an ancient, broken creature as he's become, and put him back together again, better than he ever was.
The bed is more than wide enough, so closely they press against one another, kissing, greedy fingers pushing cloth aside until it's flung away, and it's not long before Rose is naked on the bed, the covers kicked down, and she's fiery hot against the coolness of his skin, flushed all over with desire, the musky human scent of her arousal thickening the masculine parts he'd thought were long dormant until she brought them eagerly back to life.
He remembers, vaguely, through a distant haze, the wife he'd taken long ago according to the way of his people: a respectful mingling of minds, her receptivity triggering his climax inside her body, his gratitude for bearing him a daughter. Gallifreyans armored themselves with propriety and ceremony and thick heavy clothing, desperate to keep from drowning in the rumbling morass of undifferentiated thought.
He'd never dared to hope that falling in love would be so different. He had loved, of course, but not like this, not with every thought, every breath of his being, yearning to get inside her and never be apart from her. Not like this, with all the lusts of his body, the pounding of his hearts, the exultant ache of his soul calling out to mate with hers.
He is a quick learner, and he already knows so much about the way she likes to be touched. She thrills to his strength; she likes feeling the power he's holding back, yearning against the gentleness he unleashes against her; she loves the teasing touches that leave her arching toward him, every muscle quivering for more.
She loves to be directed and praised. "Put your hands here," he says, and her heart simply pounds, and "good girl" makes her shudder and moan. "Do you like this?" he says, even though he knows she does, because her moans of "oh, yes!" multiply her pleasure exponentially.
"Do you know how beautiful you are?" he says, and she shakes her head, and he says, "So very beautiful." He investigates her body, taking his time, praising every part of her in rich detail as he glories in it: "such luscious lips… the strong column of your neck, the secret place here behind your ear that smells so good, this little area here between your breasts that's distracted me for so long, where I'd see a drop of sweat trickle down and yearn to chase it with my tongue, like this… and oh, these breasts, so soft and delicious, and it makes you feel so good when I kiss them, doesn't it?" Her wordless moans drive him on, and he kisses her nipples, suckling, nibbling, nosing at her as he fondles and strokes her sides and belly.
"Oh Rose, do you know how delicious you smell? I have a good sense of smell, you know… your scent hangs all over the Tardis, driving me crazy … sometimes I smell you on your own hand, did you know that?" He licks at her, making luxurious sounds as the taste of her skin explodes on his tongue.
Her legs fall open, admitting the wanderings of his curious, questing fingers, and he feels like a devil, encouraging her to explore her own desire for his enjoyment. "Here, give me your hand. See how wet you are— I like that very much. Do you like it gentle, teasing?"
She moans her assent, her body shuddering with pleasure under his hand and hers joined together.
He urges her on. "Tease yourself for me— that's the way. It's so lovely, touching your body's most delicate place, together like this. Can you feel how ready you are? Guide my fingers however you like best. Let me stroke you open, Rose -- your most beautiful blossom opening for me, so slick and ready."
By this point, Rose is in a fever of arousal, her thoughts so loud they ring into his mind, pounding out his name amid declarations of her desire.
"I think you need a little relief, would you like that?" he murmurs, sliding down her body.
"Oh! yes, please Doctor," is all she can muster.
"May I kiss you, here, and put my fingers inside you?" He doesn't need to ask, he knows what she wants, but his words inflame her even more.
Eyes tightly closed, fists full of bed sheet, Rose opens her legs a little more, her thighs quivering with need.
"Please, please, please--" Now she's the one begging.
He peers down at her sex, wet and flushed and smelling heavenly. He delicately licks, and her arousal floods into his brain. He parts her folds and slips a finger inside, feeling her grip and flutter around him, then he easily adds another finger, feeling for the place inside her that drives her wild. Still licking, ever so lightly, he finds that place, and holds her down as she bucks when he strokes there, gentle, but deep and insistent. She's chanting his name now, begging, and it sounds so sweet. Finally he lowers his mouth to her sex, and begins to suck at the little cluster of nerves, and she roars, clamping down on him, pounding her fists, and he feels so proud, and by the vortex, how he wants to be inside her, to feel that hot strength caressing his own sex.
He eases away from her, lets her catch her breath. Her face is flushed as she tries to breathe, shaking from the wracking climax he's just given her. He takes her mouth again in a lazy kiss, letting her taste her own flavor. Her lips are so soft and relaxed -- he's given this to her -- and there's more to come.
"Oh, Doctor," she moans, "that was lovely. So lovely!"
He forgives her for running out of words.
"Make love to me?" she asks.
"I was, or so I thought?" he teases.
"Very well, too!" she agrees, smiling -- "but I mean, with -- or don't Time Lords do it that way?"
"I can, but I need to be in your mind as well," he says. Time Lords had given up sex -- how stupid of them!
"Please," Rose says, lifting his fingers to her temples.
He easily slips into her mind, now that they've thrown down their defenses, and he's amazed yet again by the glorious love she feels for him.
"Oh, Rose," he sings out, "Feel how grateful I am to you, how in awe of you I am, how much I love you, how I adore you!"
"Oh, my Doctor," Rose answers. "I've been waiting for you. How could we have waited for so long?"
"I don't know-- just stubborn, I reckon!"
Their mental laughter rings out like bells and sunlight and flashes of joy.
"I want you to make love to me," Rose thinks, and the Doctor feels his body respond.
"Your wish is my command," he says, reclaiming the words from the sting of his earlier, near-fatal mistake.
He feels his sex swelling, questing for hers, and he presses inside her. It's so, so good, her heat embracing him, caressing him, surrounding him with the feeling of her crescendo into ecstasy. He soaks up her pleasure, multiplies it, and feeds it back, pulsing inside her, expanding to fill her, thrusting with his hips, pinning her down as she opens herself to him.
"Take me-- make me yours forever," she pleads with her thoughts.
His mind surges forward, unable to resist staking such a claim. With a monumental effort, he holds back just long enough to ask, "Forever? Be sure -- forever mine, Rose Tyler?"
"Oh, yes, Doctor -- yes!" Her whole being rings with such a resounding yes that he fairly seizes her, body, mind and soul, latching onto her with all his considerable strength. He's been mistaken for a god, but now he stakes his claim on his Goddess, threading himself through her, in and out of time, releasing his seed into her body, howling his rapture into her thoughts, and losing himself in ecstasy when their souls come together, sealing the two of them forever in holy union.
When he comes back to himself, he finds he is smiling, and she is too, stroking him and gazing at him at smiling, the sweet, wise, loving smile that's always been his to claim.
"I love you," he says simply. He scoops up her hand, and kisses it.
"I love you, too," she answers, and she scoots even closer to him, twining their limbs together, and there is plenty of room for the two of them on the narrow bed.
He watches her as she sleeps, chases butterflies into her dreams, and wakes her with the sunlight in the morning.
She opens her eyes, and smiles at him. He smiles back.
"Forever," she says.
"Yeah," he says. He reaches out with a tendril of thought, just to see her eyes widen.
"We -- you -- we don't need to touch?" she gasps.
"No -- is that all right?" he says. There are defenses he can teach her if it isn't.
"It's brilliant!" she laughs, and her joyful laughter pours into his mind. He's going to have to learn how to be seriously happy now that Rose has access to his brain.
It's hard for them to get out of bed, after such a night of bliss, so many hours made wonderful with cuddles and kisses, clever fingers and happy thoughts -- but when her stomach growls despite his Time Lord physiology efficiently regulating hers -- they get up, and shower as best they can with so many hot, wet distractions -- and make their way beaming downstairs.
"Good morning!" Justine laughs, pointing at the clock. It's late afternoon.
They wave, laughing sheepishly, and head out to find nourishment and tea. They linger over soup and salad, drinking tea and talking. The Doctor is sure he's never felt so relaxed before, in any lifetime. Always, he's been at the mercy of that near-crippling urge to dash toward the next adventure -- but now, that urge feels sated, at least for the moment, Rose's hand over his, her thoughts sparkling musically through his like a stream through a forest, and their quiet conversation -- full of play, cleverness, interchange, brilliance-- he's never known what it it's like to be this happy.
As though to harden himself with some minor disappointment, he suggests they walk out to the Tardis to try the key.
Rose chuckles. "When she locked us out, it felt like the end of the world," she says.
"I know," he says ruefully.
"Now, of course, I don't want to be locked out, but I don't feel the hurry," she says.
"Me neither!" he laughs. His wonderful, faithful Tardis, must've recognized Rose long before he did.
They caper and play as they walk out of town and across the field. Like a dream, the journey takes a fraction as long as the first several times they trudged it. The trees are nearly deafening with birdsong. The sun shines hot. It seems spring has sprung with a vengeance.
The Doctor laughs as he digs the key out of his pocket. They look at it together, and letting out his breath, he puts the key in the lock. It turns and the door swings open. The hum of the Tardis sings into their minds, a loud welcome home.
"Oh!" Rose says, laughing.
"Ha, ha," the Doctor shouts into the Tardis.
Rose darts off to her room to pack a few things. The Doctor waits, his hand on the console. The Tardis seems smug.
"This what you were after all along, then?" he asks.
She hums on, innocently. Under the console, the vortex sings in her heart, as it somehow already sings in Rose's. He knows now he has nothing to fear from loving a creature who seems so short-lived and fragile -- she's something much bigger and stronger than he has ever been. Nothing to fear, everything to look forward to.
Rose bounces back into the console room, all energy, ready for anything.
"Back to town, eh? I packed another dress!" she laughs, a dare in her tone.
The Doctor laughs too, and he picks her up, swings her around, and kisses her. He's actually looking forward to a lot more dancing.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2012-01-29 07:41 pm (UTC)The TARIDS knows best Doctor. When are you going to learn that? Now that the Doctor has allowed Rose to heal him, their dreams of forever can become a reality.
"This what you were after all along, then?" he asks.
She hums on, innocently. Under the console, the vortex sings in her heart, as it somehow already sings in Rose's. He knows now he has nothing to fear from loving a creature who seems so short-lived and fragile -- she's something much bigger and stronger than he has ever been. Nothing to fear, everything to look forward to.
Thank you for a wonderful fic full of so much love!
no subject
Date: 2012-01-29 10:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-01-30 12:06 am (UTC)Thanks again!
no subject
Date: 2012-01-30 02:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-01-29 10:04 pm (UTC)"A bit bossy in the best possible way" = SWOON! :D
no subject
Date: 2012-01-30 01:46 am (UTC)He remembers, vaguely, through a distant haze, the wife he'd taken long ago according to the way of his people: a respectful mingling of minds, her receptivity triggering his climax inside her body, his gratitude for bearing him a daughter. Gallifreyans armored themselves with propriety and ceremony and thick heavy clothing, desperate to keep from drowning in the rumbling morass of undifferentiated thought.
Thank you for sharing this gorgeous piece! Favorited!!!
no subject
Date: 2012-01-30 02:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-01-30 03:41 am (UTC)You paint a gorgeous scene. I have very very much enjoyed this story, I'm sorry it's ending.
no subject
Date: 2012-01-30 03:54 am (UTC)Posting it over the span of time seems like a success..... 11,000 is a lot to read at once, and also the smaller chunks allowed for the pacing to really sink in.
I really appreciate your comments!
no subject
Date: 2012-01-30 03:57 am (UTC)Wonderful :)
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Date: 2012-01-30 03:46 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-01-30 03:56 am (UTC)I'll post to one more comm tomorrow just to make sure I catch everyone! :D
no subject
Date: 2012-01-30 10:33 pm (UTC)I'd quote some, but if I started we'd both be here all night lol. Brilliant response to my prompt, thank you :)
no subject
Date: 2012-01-30 10:57 pm (UTC)Hope you are feeling better!
no subject
Date: 2012-01-31 02:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-01-31 08:47 pm (UTC)This is so sweet I completely forgot about my cold. Good job on that!
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Date: 2012-01-31 10:07 pm (UTC)I'm really glad to give you some relief from your cold as well -- yay!
:D
no subject
Date: 2012-02-01 01:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-02-01 02:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-02-05 04:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-02-05 10:59 pm (UTC)AKA Untempered Schism
Date: 2012-05-16 03:55 pm (UTC)Re: AKA Untempered Schism
Date: 2012-05-17 05:34 pm (UTC)I worked really hard on building depth and detail into this story -- like the food and the sense of place -- I'm so glad it left you craving! Me too! :D I wanted that sensual grounding for the story so that the roiling emotion of post-Father's Day would have some contrast, and also some outlet.
I really, really appreciate your comment. I poured myself into this one, so it means a lot to me.