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Sweet Dreams Are Made of These - 11
by Innuendo (keepsake411@yahoo.com)

***

The year is winding to an end as Jahn, Fiona, and Jen 
prepare to take the next step in the rest of their 
lives. Challenges abound; unexpected news has been 
delivered, and insecurities will always be part and 
parcel of any relationship. What's the next step, and 
will the three be ready to take it together? (FFM, 
fantasy, rom)

***

Chapter: November: "Nightmares Are Made of This"

Never quite even-handed or necessarily fair, life 
settles on the precipice of endless balances: wealth 
and poverty, ambition and apathy, love and hate, 
darkness and light... dreams and nightmares. Often it 
seems as if there is an excess of the bad and the good 
will never come, or not enough of the good, and too 
soon dispersed. Living in the space between, we try 
and hold on, to avoid giving up living a dream, just 
to face hard realities. 

Jahn had found his aerie, and was trying to keep a 
firm grip, but his dreams of late were inundated with 
nightmares.

Jen's newly announced pregnancy was not a nightmare. 
Oh, he'd stood dumbfounded as Fiona had fed him the 
news, and there was an uncomfortable silence as he 
digested it, but... the news wasn't bad. It simply was 
what it was, though there didn't seem to be a right 
way to express the confusing mix of emotions welling 
up within him. Worse still, was the look on Jen's 
face.

Jennifer Reed was someone others would call cute, even 
if Jahn thought her beautiful. A snub nose, lively 
blue eyes that sparkled with warmth and pleasure, 
utterly kissable pink lips and long, naturally blonde 
hair that trended towards platinum gave her a 
wholesome look that had at first, and despite her age, 
made him think of her as someone's kid sister. But 
now, with that expression on her face... Jen looked 
miserable and scared. He'd seen a shadow of something 
similar on her friend Amy once, and it had impressed 
on him as a kind of terror. Was she afraid of him, 
what he might think?

Inwardly, Jahn cursed himself. They'd talked about 
marriage and many of the important things that went 
with it, but somehow children had never come up 
anywhere but in conversations that had taken place 
almost a year past. His sexy new girlfriend Jenny had 
brightly reflected that she might like to have kids 
someday, and his sophisticated and worldly new 
girlfriend Fiona had thought that she might like to 
have children after she'd climbed as far as she 
thought she could at V&P, but the musing had been 
abstracted, well before he'd popped the question to 
the pair of them.

The trio wasn't even married yet. Where did they go 
from here?

 He was taking too long to work this out in his head, 
and Jen was visibly deteriorating. Wanting nothing 
more than to hold her in that moment, he stood and 
circled the end table to take her in his arms. Fiona 
stepped back, watching with that cool and appraising 
gaze. It's not just Jen waiting for a response, he 
realized, as the blonde began to shake in his arms.

"Hey, it's okay, it's okay, I'm here," trying to 
soothe her, and feeling desperately clumsy about the 
attempt. Not a trifling argument this, something that 
could be gotten over with apologies all around and 
makeup sex.

"I'm s-sorry, s-so sorry," she sobbed into his 
shoulder. "I m-m-must have f'gotten to t-take them 
some, ah, some, ah sometime." The pills, right. Maybe 
it had been in the excitement over Florida, going or 
coming, or the preparation for the camping trip. 
Heaven knew that he and Jen rutted like bunnies; it 
was a testament to the quality of the stuff she'd been 
taking that they hadn't had a... accident before now. 
Grimacing inside at the poor choice of word, he 
thought, is that what this is to me? An accident?

Occasionally his fantasies had run in the direction of 
having children with the two sisters, perhaps a boy to 
follow in his footsteps or a girl to dote on, but it 
had always seemed like those conversational abstracts, 
something for the far future. Simple fact was, like it 
or not, he was now a father. Jen was the mother of his 
child.

Decision time. Be a rock. It's what Dad always told 
me, what Roger always showed by example, he thought. 
Jahn had asked them to marry him, and for better or 
worse, a child was going to be a part of that. Getting 
through this might be a challenge, but it was not 
insurmountable. Be. A. Rock.

"Jen," he said, as calmly as he was able, pulling her 
tightly to him. "I am here for you. Did you think I 
wouldn't be? That I would hate you, change my mind 
about marrying you?"

"N-n-no." she said, tears still flowing, soaking the 
front of his shirt. 

"So you're pregnant, and I'm still here. You are the 
mother of... my child. Is that something you want, or 
do we... need to discuss other options?" It surprised 
him how much that possibility suddenly hurt, though 
he'd only squared off on the decision moments before.

Jen was silent for long moments, perhaps trying to 
understand what he was talking about, or simply 
composing herself. "N-no. I d-did, do want to have 
children with you, b-but it's so soon, and, and, b-
but-"

"But...?" he prompted, gently.

"I w-want you to still want me!" The sex, it always 
seemed to come back to that with Jen. Jahn knew it was 
her preferred way of expressing her feelings for him, 
making her feel wanted and showing that she wanted in 
him in return. But she thought he wouldn't want her 
anymore? That shocked him, and hurt a little too. Did 
she think him that shallow?

"I don't understand..." he said, hesitantly, still 
holding her close. "Why wouldn't I want you anymore?"

"B-because I'll b-be ugly and fat and-" the rest was 
incoherent, but he got the gist.

"Jen, it's just nine months. I'll spend every day of 
that time showing you just how much I still want you 
if you need me to." Immediately upon saying that, 
Fiona caught his eye, still watching in silence, and 
he wished he'd phrased the words differently. Perhaps 
she saw the stricken expression on his face and 
understood implicitly, because she simply gave him a 
serene smile and waved it off. Roger had been Jahn's 
rock; Fiona was Jen's. But damn, he wanted to be that 
for both of the sisters. His fiancées, his future.

The words Jahn spoke to her after that seemed to fade 
into rambling and become a haze of comfort and love, 
as much as he could give, as much as she could take. 
More important than anything was her understanding 
that he would be there for her for the rest of their 
lives. Jen had her cry, but she understood, and when 
she was done the three of them – Jennifer Reed, Jahn 
Halvers, and Fiona Reed, sat down for the first time 
as a family, and discussed their future together.

***

That old song is one that has stalked Jahn's thoughts 
throughout his relationship with Jen and Fiona, but 
the haunting has been a happy one, a soothing and 
reassuring beat that popped into his head every time 
he remembered just how lucky he was. It is, or was 
supposed to be, a happy, pleasant tune whatever the 
lyrics.

But when he slept that night, that song was the heart 
of his nightmares.

...use you, to abuse you...

Three women stand before him, ghosts of exes past. One 
of a height to match him, clad in latex, strawberry 
blonde hair tied back into a severe bun. Two women, 
much shorter than she, kneel next to her, submissive 
in demeanor, the pale blonde pleasuring her with 
lavish kisses as if she were a lost love newly found, 
the brown-skinned brunette gazing up at her with 
adoring eyes. "You were never worthy," the woman spat, 
words rich with scorn and derision, pointing a riding 
crop at him. "Not even of being a slave."

...be abused, be used by you...

He is as tall as he ever was, and with more body 
weight, but the mass is his body gone to seed. Staring 
contemptuously at the two small women in front of him, 
he lashes out, conferring slaps as if they were gifts, 
demanding obedience as if it were something owed. 
There is love for him in the sisters, but it is 
something twisted and wrong, shown through eyes as 
flat and lifeless as blue paint, eyes as dull and 
lusterless as brown wood. What is he doing to them, 
what has he become? Is this what he always was?

...am I to disagree...

Two diminutive cars, one baby blue, the other a pretty 
brown, speed toward him at breakneck pace, and as they 
fly down the road, they shift, changing form, becoming 
effeminate robots, shapely things with curves instead 
of edges. Bumping fists, they merge, no longer 
diminutive, changing shape not just to become more 
powerful in a single form, but far larger as well, 
blocking out the setting sun and luminescent moon in 
the sky. "We are Jennifyon, transformed and greater 
than the sum of our parts!" Cold metallic eyes settle 
on him, and it lowers a massive gun that spits 
scouring energy, turning the world red. With grating 
laughter, it roars. "What need have we of you?"

...looking for something...

Like porcelain dolls made up in the finest silk 
wedding dresses, the two women whirl about him, ever 
faster in their orbital dance. They seem to blur, 
blonde hair streaked with brown, high cheekbones and 
snub nose together where they never were before, a 
sparkling blue eye and lustrous brown. Mismatched, 
overmatched, tumbling, turning. One asks, "Do you 
remember, remember my name?" in a piping, yet 
mellifluous voice, while the other adds in the same 
dulcet tones, "Say my name, say my name!" He cannot, 
he does not know which is which, and the inability 
strikes him with horror. Realizing his failure, they 
strike, crying out as one: "How could you forget me? 
Am I nothing to you without her?"

...travel the world...

Riding down the road again, wind flaring his jacket 
and blowing his hair, two sets of arms about his 
waist, he looks over to see the brother and the mother 
on a second bike. They are looking back at him, the 
disappointment, profound disappointment on their 
faces. "Thought you were better than that, bro," says 
the man, while the woman simply points at his crotch, 
disgust on her face. Eyes riveted on this 
condemnation, he doesn't even notice that the bike is 
sailing through the air, off a steep and unending 
cliff.

...seven seas...

Pressure crushes his chest like a vice, he surfaces 
from the water in an explosion of breath. Two 
children, a boy and a girl, walk on the surface of the 
waves, and he reaches an arm out to them. "How can you 
be our daddy?' says the little girl. "We have two 
mommies, there has to be two daddies. You're not two!" 
Turning their backs on him, they leave him to sink 
into the depths, alone.

***

Breath exploding from his lungs again, he screams this 
time, lunging upwards and into the waking world. The 
blonde (Jen, her name is Jen) is startled awake, and 
the brunette (your name is Fiona. it. is. Fiona) is 
drawn back to consciousness by his weeping.

When lucidity finally came back to him, Jahn told them 
about the nightmares, the sense of self-destructive 
failure that encompassed each of them, the loss and 
confusion, the fear. Anxiety and fears of inadequacy, 
Fiona had told him reasonably, her slender fingers and 
light kisses a balm on his tear-stained face. They 
express what you feel unconsciously; they do not 
define you. Jen simply hugged him tightly, her smooth 
cheek a tonic on his chest, told him he'd make a great 
father, and that he'd have her to look forward to for 
the rest of his life.

Descending back into the realm of sleep, his dreams 
were sweet once more.

***

Jahn was as good as his word, and he meant to be every 
step of the way. She and her sister have been here for 
him, and he would do the same, no matter what. Time 
alone with Jen was like worship to a little goddess, 
folded hands of gentle love and reassurance upon her 
chest his form of prayer As the month passed, so did 
her fears, and he could see happy expectations growing 
in her as large as her belly soon would be.

For Fiona, a devoted kiss upon the lips whenever time 
allowed. He would not forget her, no matter what. She 
already knew that in her heart, but those little 
insecurities always plague him when he least expected 
it, even if her soothing hand is enough to banish the 
nightmares and send him back into the realm of 
pleasant dreams.

He didn't need those dreams any more than he needed 
nightmares; he just needed to be there for them in 
every waking hour.

***

November rained announcements and plans; Mary would be 
coming back to stay for the duration of Jen's 
pregnancy, all those necessities would have to be 
acquired, to make ready for the baby. Baby blankets, a 
crib, a stockpile of diapers, a seemingly endless list 
of supplies. Rearranging the rooms was necessary, 
because there simply wasn't space for them to have 
private sanctuaries like they'd enjoyed in the past. 
There would be privacy though, Jen made sure of that, 
and she insisted he spare some of his time for her 
sister.

Plans upon plans...

"We'll name him Jahn Junior if he's a boy, Jahna if 
she's a girl," he told Jen confidently, with just a 
hint of teasing in his voice.

"You will _not_," she insisted, voice thick with 
outrage. "The baby needs a real name! Her own!" Fiona 
simply laughed at her sister, a big book full of baby 
names already in hand.

...but throughout it all, love.

***

Company is the last thing Jahn expected tonight, and 
he left the ringing phone to Mary as he finished 
installing child-proof shields around his computer. 
Mrs. Reed had advised this, though he was probably 
sure it could be found in the host of advice books 
that Fiona had brought home. His fiancées had gone out 
for groceries, Jen in the thick of her cravings again, 
though he suspected she was playing it up. The bedroom 
wasn't the only place she had shown a flair for the 
dramatic.

Surveying his work with approval, he turned with a 
frown to the door of his room. Was that crying? Jen 
and Fiona must be home, the blonde in one of her mood 
swings again. Time to be a rock, he thought with 
positivity, bounding through the door and down the 
stairs to see what had brought her down now...

...and froze as he got to the living room. Mary stood 
with the phone cradled in hand, sniffles subsiding as 
she composed herself.

No. Oh, no. Let it not. Thoughts seemed to muddle and 
his chest seemed to seize him.

His running had not been noiseless, and Mary Reed 
turned to him, eyes red with fresh tears. "We need to 
go..." She blurred and became two women in his vision, 
then coalesced back into one. Pain seemed to radiate 
outward from his chest, numbness in his joints as the 
world slowed to a crawl.

"Which," he demanded hoarsely. "Which one...?" Unable 
to think for the pounding in his skull, Jahn's blood 
sounded like thunder in his brain. Didn't police make 
the contact for this? Why a phone call? This didn't 
make sense. He couldn't _think_.

"There was an accident. They... they..." Mary was 
unable to complete the sentence, reaching blindly for 
her coat. Her eyes lock with his, great dark pools of 
fear, of... something. Swelling like black holes, 
those lightless circles seem to encompass her entire 
face, and he feels himself drawn in.

The sun! The moon!

Darkness.

To be continued...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. 4-million people around the world 
contract HIV every year. You only have one body per 
lifetime, so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 73