Off-Line[Anthony]

by sunny [lizzy] and Harmne

a/n: We wrote this for a friend who wanted us to explain WHY Anthony was wearing the stupid bead thing....Photos are actual pix of the island.


the island

 

Part One

Tavarua, Fiji, South Pacific

[the girl]

The flash of sunlight off a windshield caught my attention first.  Then I saw the battered old CJ 7 Jeep crawling down the track towards Spanky's place, midmorning on a Tuesday. Tending bar at the resort gives me a great vantage point. I can see all the new arrivals, watch the action on the beach, and working the lunch crowd leaves my nights free for fun.

A figure climbed out of the jeep Spanky keeps at the little airport.  The shape wasn't right for Spanky but maybe it was a friend. Who knew what bum Spanky might lend his cabin to next, he seemed to have a soft spot for surfers down on their luck.  This guy moved a bit slowly, fumbled over the doorway until he found the house key, hefted an old duffle and let himself in.

Then I got busy with a group of snorkel tour returnees and forgot all about Spanky's guest.

[Anthony]

The job went okay.

Really.

I got a little banged up during the ex-fil but no big deal. I snagged a military lift out of what passed for an AF Base, they dropped me off in Dubai where I'd left my Gulfstream. At the international airport on Fiji I ditched my flight crew.

"Guys, I'm, like offline, okay?"

"But, sir...?"

Idiots.

"Mr. Stewart, sir..."

"I can figure out how to get home, guys. No problemo."

''But sir...''

''Oh okay, I'll call you. But just...go. Away. Home.  Somewhere. "

I bought a ticket on a little island hopper plane, the kind that flies so low you can open the windows and let the tropical breezes blow in. At the next little airport I picked up my friend Spanky's old rusty Jeep and headed to his offered hut on the beach on the tiny island he called home. Spanky's a friend from, uh, back in the day. Don't ask, okay?

...

Spanky's house/ bure

I'm bizarrely rich---and busy, and, yes okay, spoiled---so usually when I'm on R&R, playing golf, surfing, I have people. Well actually most of the time I have people. My staff takes care of things like stocking the place I'm staying---they make sure I have my favorite brand of beer and tequila and vodka. My bottled water, favorite foods, good sheets, clothes, phones, laptops, you know---helicopters. Like, my stuff. So I don't have to bother organizing for myself.  But sometimes I just need to be on my own.  Otherwise it kind of defeats the purpose of playing hooky, you know?

I let myself into Spanky's little house amidst the palm trees. Cool. He calls it a bure, which just means home or house in the local lingo. But I always think of it as, like, Spanky's hooch. I took a second to look around. Spanky is a great guy, but a great housekeeper?  I had serious doubts.  But the place wasn't as bad as I expected.  The fridge was nearly empty but was on and cool, held four beers in dark bottles, a big bottle of cheap tequila, and some dried-up limes.  Something in a zip-lock bag that might have been Spanky's trademark peanut butter muffins was in the freezer. The ice trays were empty. No dope. The rest of the kitchen was clean and I didn't see any bugs, which in the tropics was a saying a lot. 

I  filled the ice trays for later. See? I know how, I can do this! I grinned in the empty tiny house.

The furniture wasn't much but looked comfortable.  The floor was clean, a little sandy, but that's okay at the beach. There were some not-too-old magazines on the scarred coffee table: Guns & Ammo, Ronin, and some engineering trade thing.  I was more interested in the bedroom and bathroom.

The bedroom was bare and the bed was made up, the sheets and pillowcases fresh, still retaining the sunshine scent from being dried outdoors.  The bathroom was ancient but clean. I checked the toilet and there was no slime coming out of it, thank god, and the water pressure in the shower was okay. I tied my braids up and took a fast shower to get the foreign sand off, uncaring that the towels were threadbare.  I washed down some ibuprofen with water from the sink, dropped my guns on the bedside table, then fell gratefully into the bed face down.

It was dusk when I woke.  My head felt better but my stomach announced it was starving, and I knew there was nothing in the cabin to eat. I could hear music.  Maybe there was a party on the beach. Sighing, I dragged my jet-lagged ass out of the bed and looked for clothes.

The shorts I arrived in hurt my injured side so I dug through Sparky's collection of crap until I found some rumpled linen cargo shorts. Spanky's got the beer belly going these days. I guess, because the shorts hung loose, just like I like. They had elastic in the waistband but they weren't so tight that they hurt.  I picked up my guns, checked the loads out of habit. Stowed them in the various pockets of the cargoes. I added a truly scary tropical shirt, left open to hide the nasty abrasion and growing bruise on my hip and draw attention away from the now drooping pockets. Oakleys. Flipflops, knives....

  ....

[the girl]

The sun sets early in the tropics, 'bout the same time all year long. Not that we care because sundown is party time. My shift was over.  I grabbed a Fiji Zinger longneck beer, kicked my sandals off, and made my way over the warm sand down to the shoreline to cool off my feet. The nightly bonfire was roaring already and the crowd was getting happy. I glanced down the beach and caught sight of a guy.  He was coming from the direction of Spanky's, might be the one that arrived this morning. He was ambling towards the firelight, walking in the edge of the lapping water, not in any hurry.

When he reached the party he was absorbed easily.  He stopped to buy a beer at the bar, dragged a handful of crumpled currency from a pocket and sorted through it for bills accepted locally.  I could see American dollars and Euros and something else I didn't recognize.  The woman on the barstool next to him smiled and spoke to him, waved his money away and paid the bartender herself.  He sat next to her, his blonde braids mussed and tangled down his back.  He was gone a few minutes later when I looked back.

Several times in the next hour or so I caught sight of him.  Sipping from one of the ridiculous plastic coconuts they served the tourists' drinks in.  Eating grilled shrimp from a skewer, then later one of the rolled meat bun things.  He'd collected flower leis and some beads somewhere---probably a few kisses to go with them, too.  Someone had fastened a bead fringe around his hips which looked oddly fitting on the slim young man.

....




the stupid bead skirt thing



[Anthony]

I was still tired and jet-lagged and now that I had food and some alcohol I was sleepy again.  The party was easy and fun, though.  It was hard to decide if I wanted fun or sleep more.

My cup was empty so I cut through the dancers to the tiki bar for a refill. Asked only for something tall and icy.  I was sweating.  The bartender sized me up as a tourist and gave me a coconut filled with rum and crushed ice, little pink umbrella. I looked, did a mental shrug. Took a sip and thought about smiling.

A woman slid onto the barstool next to me.  "You like that, bra'?"  She had a faintly fake Hawaiian lilt in her voice, belied by her silky blonde hair and blue, blue eyes.

I frowned, not sure I wanted to look into any big blue eyes tonight. Slurped my drink.

She added, ''I work here sometimes, I can get you something else...a vodka-soda? Rum and coke? Margarita?''

"This is fine.''

She smiled again, stuck out  well-manicured slim brown hand, "Alexandra Reilly. Originally from Oahu, been here five years maybe."

I shook her hand.

"And you?'' she probed.

"Just passing through.''

'You staying at Spanky's place?"

I put down my coconut and inched my hand towards my gun. Just because I'm paranoid doesn't mean someone isn't out to get me.  Shit happens.

"I didn't get your name?''  She was persistent.

I hesitated a few beats.

''Jason. Jason Bourne."

She wrinkled her nose just a fraction. It was pretty cute, especially since I was being pretty rude.  I didn't get to hear what she'd say next as we were interrupted.

"Yo, Lex! Who's your girlfriend?"

Alexandra turned to look beyond me at a couple of lobster-red tourist guys who had bellied up to the bar behind me. (So I guess it was good I hadn't pulled out my gun yet, lol). I watched them in the mirror behind the bar.

She shrugged, "What? Girlfriend? You boys got sunstroke?"

"This one here with the ugly braids? Man, she's no beauty. You goin' lezzy on us, sweetheart?"

The woman looked a little baffled, her eyes tracking between the broiled boys and my face, especially my face. Tracked on down over my abs, back to my face.

Then she laughed. "He's actually kind of beautiful, guys. I guess you're jealous?"

Silence, then a meaty hand jabbed me in my bruised side, gouged my right kidney. Not a punch, just a dumb, clumsy move intended, I'm sure, to be insulting.

"Does 'she' talk, Lexi?" Or is 'she' too dumb?"

Time did that spacing out, spreading out thing...slow motion, kill him, kill him. A threat, kill him.

"Hey! I'm talking to you, son!"

I shoved away from the bar.

"De Niro, right, dudes? Wow, man, awesome..." and I backed away, melted into the party again.

...

[Lexi]

Surprise held me immobile for a few heartbeats, far longer than it took for the strange surfer to disappear. What just happened?  The look that crossed his face...it had been fast, but I was looking and for one moment he looked coldly lethal.  Maybe the annoying joke about being Jason Bourne wasn't so far off the mark after all. I wondered if I'd ever find out anything more about him.  Or if I'd ever get to see him smile.

...   ...   ...

[Anthony]

The little confrontation told me I wasn't as in control as I like, so I headed back to the cabin.  More sleep was probably a good idea---and it would keep me away from the blonde with the sharp blue eyes.

The hammock between the cabin and the beach was tempting, but once I crashed I might sleep for hours and I didn't want to be so exposed especially after dawn. I headed back inside.  I dropped the aloha shirt between the door and the bedroom, plunked a gun on the nightstand, tucked another under my pillow, crawled back onto the mattress.  Sleep caught me before my head touched down.

....

[Lexi]

It took me another hour or so to realize the hot surfer guy was gone from the party.  He'd looked sort of tired---or maybe sad?--- earlier when he wasn't talking to anyone.  Maybe he'd had a bad experience lately?  Lost a job?  Or a girlfriend?

Maybe I wouldn't have worried but the tourist idiots who'd hassled him had disappeared too and I worried they might cause trouble.  They were the type, you know?  So I armed myself with a couple unopened bottles of beer and a bottle of water and set off down the sugar-sand beach toward Spanky's.  Just to make sure he was okay.

....

[Anthony]

A light knock on the door startled me from sleep and I was on my feet with my gun in my hand before I got my eyes open.  It was still dark, though, so what the hell?

I put my backup gun in my back waistband, went to the door without turning on any lights---didn't want to advertise my location, just in case.  Yanked the door open a crack, my gun kept back but handy, and found myself squinting into the face of the blue-eyed Hawaiian chick.

"Um, hi," she said.  "Jason?  Sorry to bother you, but you just sort of disappeared and I wanted to check on you."  She waved her arm as if to make her point and I saw she'd come carrying decent beer.  "I don't want to bother you---"

Sleep, or a pretty girl and beer?  Not a hard choice.  I shoved both guns back into my pockets, getting tangled slightly in beads---beads?---and opened the door enough to slip outside.  My duffle and rifle cases were out in plain sight in the cottage and I really didn't want to answer questions.

"No bother, sweetheart.  I'm just lagged, flew in from Dubai, you know?  One of those beers for me?"

Her smile was white and friendly.  I opened the beers and led the way to the little sandy lanai where the hammock swung between two curving palms.  She had a slim and curvy body in a tiny turquoise bikini with a semi-sheer scarf thing tied around her hips.  Little shells decorated the edge and shivered with her movements.

We sat on a rough bench that faced the water and talked about surfing, about Hawaii.  Compared notes on various places we'd surfed.  She'd never been to Dubai and she asked a few questions about the surfing and how hard was it to find decent food.  Told me about a spot in New Zealand I hadn't been to yet.

Sitting so straight was making my side ache so I stood up to move around some, switched to water when I ran out of beer.  She stood, too, noticed the scrapes and bruises on my side. She said, "That looks painful. Shark bite?"

You could call him a shark, I guess.... I deflected the question with a vague remark, got distracted when she started tracing the ink around my navel.

Her mouth was soft and welcoming, and the hammock was right behind her. 

I kissed her again, started inching her backwards....and felt the shorts slip off my hips and slide down my legs, pulled by the weight of my guns.  The soft sand muffled the thud but she heard something---maybe my suppressed snort---and looked down.

And there I stood in all my glory, with the damned beads framing my erection like parted curtains.

Joe Cool here, people. I desperately wondered if I was blushing. But hey, I can do this, right?

I said, ''Awesome, my dick never had love beads before." I swung my hips a little. "What do you think, babe?"

Her eyes went wide, then her lips twitched up into an amused smile. 

 "Cute," said Lexi.

 I reached for her, but she did a little finger twirl motion, said, "Turn around, I have to see this. All."

"Are you laughing at me, girl?" I threw over my shoulder as I obligingly turned for her.

"Of course not." Her voice was amused, a little breathless. She added, "The waist of the beads hangs right below your butt dimples. Oh yeah. Verrry cute."

I felt a cool hand touch my lower back. She whispered, "You have beautiful...um, tattoos," and trailed her finger along the line of the beads waistband.

I slowly finished my turn and faced her, her fingers tracing round the line of the bead thing, back to my front, around my bellybutton ink.

"A hibiscus? Or lotus?"

"Um..."

"I think this one's my favorite..." Slow circles."So far..."

Her hand moved down. "Wow," she breathed with faked amazement. "It's like a magic act!"

She giggled and it wasn't annoying, it actually made me smile. 

"I give you extra bonus points for unique presentation," she grinned. One hand brushed the beads, made them swing gently against my groin, moved closer and closer to my very interested dick.  "So, do I get to play with it now?" The other hand checked out the beads on my ass.

"Totally. But I don't have any protection out here."

"Well...," she said, taking a small step backwards towards the hammock and untying her sarong thing.  "I was never a girl scout, but..." and she reached into her bra top and pulled out a foil coin, "I believe in always being prepared."

My eyes on the coin, I didn't expect the glide of the soft scarf being dragged across my little head and it made me gasp.

Her grin widened.  "Oh, yeah, you're going to be fun---I can tell."

I remembered at the last moment to step out of the damned shorts before I tripped myself. In one non-stop motion I wadded up the shorts with my guns, slung them over by the palm tree's base, and pushed her down onto the hammock sideways, leaving her legs dangling.  One step more put me between her legs.

My eyes locked on hers, I fumbled with the stupid bead skirt, tried to undo the waist tie. She reached up and stopped me.

"Leave them on. They're cool. Different. You know, fun?"

A smile spread over my face.  "I can be lots of fun."  

Hammocks can be a lot of fun, too, if they're hung properly and you have good balance.  I guess Spanky knew that, too.  This one was suspended at the perfect height for long, drawn-out foreplay and made an excellent substitute sex swing. 

By the time the sky began to lighten Lexi was sated and limp.  My tension-knotted muscles were loose and humming although my side hurt some, and I was ready for some sleep.  I carried Lexi---long silky blonde hair trailing over my arm---into the cabin and stretched her out on the bed.  Another couple minutes and I piled my few clothes from the duffle onto the tattered wicker chair in the bedroom, stuffed my rifle cases in the duffle instead, and shoved it all under my side of the bed within easy reach.  Another trip outside to locate all three bits of turquoise Lexi was wearing, plus my shorts and my Glocks.  I checked them for sand and tucked one just under the corner of the mattress, the other under the duffle.  Usually I put one gun under my pillow but I didn't know Lexi that well yet.

With the blinds down and the ceiling fan on against heat of the coming day, I eased myself onto the bed and sighed.  Lexi stirred, and I curled my fingers around her wrist.  She sighed and was still and I fell asleep.





the hammock

 

...

[Lexi]

The alarm on the diver's watch I wore like a bangle bracelet woke me at eleven, disturbing the pretty blond man beside me.  He pushed up on one elbow to peer over at me.

"Wha'?" he asked, blinking.

"Sorry, it was my alarm.  I have a shift at the bar at noon, and I need to go home and take a shower."

"C'n shower here, if you want," he mumbled.

I got up quietly, grinning as I watched him relax back into sleep.  I don't remember if the bed had a top sheet originally, but if it did it was missing now.  He was exposed all along his gorgeous backside. The bead skirt was gone too.

Sighing, I turned to look for my bikini.  Found it immediately in the bathroom, draped over the shower rod---even my pareo.  I moved them to a towel bar and took a quick cool shower, discovering a bottle of Wen cleansing conditioner instead of shampoo in the shower.  I was fairly sure it wasn't Spanky's---this stuff was expensive.  I'd always wanted to try it, though, so used it sparingly.

Since I'd changed after work, I just put my bikini back on and draped my pareo over my shoulders for the short walk back.  All I had to do was change and clock in.  I pushed the lock and pulled the door shut firmly but quietly and headed for the beach and work.

......................

Part Two

[Lexi]

I watched for him all through my shift, hoping he'd show up.  It was nearly five and I was trying to decide whether to change and head to Spanky's, or hang out here like usual, or just go back to the tiny inland house I shared with friends.

I decided to just hang out for a while and was headed to clock out when I ran smack into my dilemma.  He looked more rested now, his braids were neatly redone and strung with beads, and he wore drawstring shorts that rested low on his hips and a baggy tank shirt with the picture of a pirate with a hook and Lefty's Surf Shop on the front.  He smiled down at me.

More cheerful all of a sudden, I smiled back.  "Hey!  You look even better now.  Where're you headed?"

"Looking for sustenance," he said with a mock serious look.  "There's, like, no food on this island."

"Really?  There's food in the cafe, food at the bar, and food at the grill on the beach."  I leaned closer conspiratorially.  "Stick with me, paniolo.  I can find you food," I whispered.                      [Hawaiian for cowboy].

I clocked out, shucked my shorts and uniform shirt, and pulled on a long gauze cover-up shirt.  Then we scoped out what was at the cafe while I recited the bar menu to him, but we ended up eating at the grill on the beach.  He must have changed some currency because he paid in Fiji dollars for plates of grilled seafood and vegetables. We sat on an empty lounger eating with our fingers.  When the sun went down I bought us some drinks and we joined the evening party on the beach for a while, dancing and talking and laughing.  But before long he was holding my hand and we were walking along the waterline headed back to Spanky's cabin.

...

[Anthony]

My inner alarm woke me before dawn with thoughts of the surfboards I'd found in the overhead rafters of the lanai yesterday.  One had been trashed, one was an ancient and heavy longboard, but two were relatively new and in decent shape.  I found sex wax in the kitchen and readied one board, considered, then got the second one ready, too.  Lexi was a surfer -- she might want to surf with me.

I turned my head wondering if I should let her sleep or wake her.  Hell with it, I'd wake her up.  If she didn't want to surf she could go back to sleep. I rolled over and blew a raspberry on the curve of her belly then rolled back laughing when she came up sputtering and indignant.

She had the day off and liked the idea of surfing.  She knew some good spots and times and rushed me out of the cabin.  I let her drive the Jeep---she knew the roads and it was barely light.

It was a good spot---an undeveloped stretch of beach with smooth sand, some larger standing rocks close in.  Out about a hundred yards, though, there were long easy waves rolling in one after another, not much challenge but a good height for a ride.  Lexi ran through some local tips, like where the big underwater coral was,  pointed out the riptide area, and we were paddling out in only a few minutes.

She might not look Hawaiian, but she surfed like an islander.  It was a blast.  We surfed for several hours until the waves died down to ripples, then we sat on a rock until we dried off some before getting back in the Jeep.

Lunch was bought from a little hole-in-the-wall place and eaten at weather-beaten outdoor tables.  We went by the little house she shared so she could get a handful of clothes, bikinis, shorts, whatever.  Went back to the cabin for a short nap. Okay not so short. And we didn't sleep much.
Just as I was sliding off into sleep, she said, ''So--what should I call you?''

''Hmmm?'' I mumbled.

"I doubt you're really Jason Bourne, ku`uipo, so what should I call you?"[sweetheart]
''Uh...'' I didn't let myself tense up, showed no reaction. Pictured my handgun, in its place under the mattress edge.

Her voice held a smile. "Maybe I'll call you....hmmm: Moondoggy?''

That got my eyes open. I said, "Like, you know, from Gidget Does Dallas? I  don't think so."

Lexi frowned, but her blue eyes were laughing. "It was Gidget Goes Hawaiian! I loved that old movie!"

"Whatever." I let myself drift back towards dreamland.

But,  "So...?" she asked me, gave me a little nudge in the side. Missed my injury, lucky for me.

 I stifled a sigh. "Let's stick to Jason, babe. Okay?"

She said, "Sure, fine...except, well, you don't answer  when I do that. So...?"

See, now, this is why Ranger uses a street name. So he doesn't have to remember--- quick!---if he is Carlos or Ricardo, or Rico, Ricky, Frederick, Marc, whoever. Or Jason.  I'll have to try harder....

"Shhhh, sweetheart. Let a guy sleep here, okay."

Silky blonde hair swung back onto my chest. She nuzzled in, got comfy. We slept.

... ...
 Later...

"Let's go for a walk. It's too nice to stay inside," I told her. "Show me around, babe." 

Smile.  "Sure, Jason. I know just the place. C'mon." Yeah, I heard the finger quotes around "Jason" too.

Lexi took my hand, led me up the beach away from the resort and Spanky's house, past some low undeveloped land. We  climbed over a weathered coral outcropping and there was a small cove, deeply cut into the shoreline. The pale aqua color and no waves told me the water was shallow.  Too shallow for boats, but it was great for swimming and that's what we did.  It was just fun, shallow enough to see the sandy bottom, an easy dive if you saw a shell or something you wanted a better look at.  The sand was soft and white, but on the shore just behind the waterline were some trees and palms, providing some shade.  Lexi had some spray-on sunscreen and was careful to use it on herself, and on me.  While we lay in the shade she also demonstrated she was great at riding things other than surfboards.

The sun was sliding down the sky when we headed back.  I wanted a shower.  Lexi asked to borrow the Jeep for a few minutes so I gave her the key.  I heard her come back in while I was in the shower, then go back out again.  I found her outside lighting some weird contraption just off the lanai.

"Looks like the illegitimate offspring of a gas grill and a turkey fryer, " I told her.

Lexi giggled but didn't explain. She half-filled the stock-pot-looking part of the thing with water, then hooked a wire basket in the top that had green bundles in it, then slapped a lid on top. Stood there looking smug. "There! I'm going to take a spin through the shower, okay?"

"Sure. Should I, like, do something here?" I motioned at the grill thing.

"Nope, got it covered. I'm going to use your hair stuff, the Wen, okay?"

"Sure," I said again.

Lexi gave me a little hug and disappeared inside. I headed for the kitchen and found more good beer and some white wine in the fridge, along with a couple white containers, and wondered where she'd gone. I snagged a beer and went back outside to watch the little waves.

When Lexi came out she brought two bottles of beer out with her. I moved to the hammock, silently invited her to join me and we rocked and drank and watched the sun disappear beneath the water. Music began to float over from the resort but that just made us feel more secluded.

After a while I could smell something really good, and Lexi got up and headed back into the kitchen. She came back out carrying two glasses and the wine, put them on the little table, said, "Make yourself useful, keiki," and went back inside.

Child?  I'm no child.  But I got up and opened the wine as ordered. Lexi came back out with two plates, knives and forks, and a long barbeque fork which she used to open the lid of the pot thing and stack two bundles on each plate. Then she turned off the gas burner and came back to the table.

"Smells great, babe."

"It's luau. Traditional luau food."

I nodded a little, I've spent a lot of time in Hawaii and Polynesia.

Lexi motioned with her fork. "It's just chicken, pork, and fish steamed together with sea salt. The leaves give it the extra flavor."

It was tender and moist and really good. I forked a big bite into my hungry mouth, prodded the little golf balls things with my fork while I chewed.

"Those are just little balls of sushi rice rolled in sesame seeds and seasonings. And local veggies in the salad.''

"It's great, Lexi. Thank you for making dinner for us."

We were both very hungry, didn't talk much, just ate in companionable silence. I thought, Great food, beautiful girl, soft sea air, music, crisp wine...couldn't get much better than this.

"This is the life, babe," I told Lexi and made her smile.

Later, I told her, "I'll clean up, you did all the hard work so far today."

She smiled again. I added, "Just let me get you comfy in the hammock, sweetheart..." She stretched out, like a cat in the pinkening light. "Here's your wine, relax. I'll be back soon."

I dumped and rinsed the cooking pot and washed the few dishes. Before long the day of fun, sun, and food started catching up with me and I dragged a soft and willing Lexi back to bed.

...   ...   ...

[Lexi]

The next evening after my shift I took my new acquaintance to Plumeria, the closest thing to a gourmet eatery in my tiny town. Open air on the beach, casual, with a palm-thatched roof, sandy tile floor, very fine food. Jason was entirely at ease, casually discussing Fiji-French fusion cuisine and ordering expensive wines in French.

Plumeria

When the check arrived, he waved away my offer to pay and slipped what looked like an AmEx Black card into the folder. I decided not to ask, just smiled and said thank you.

We walked back to Spanky's bure, hand in hand, admired the black velvet sky full of stars. Shared a kiss or two. About halfway home we passed behind the cafe...and we stopped short, frozen momentarily by sounds of a scuffle, angry voices

Then a scream. A woman's voice, "No! Oh no! Please, please don't! Help! No!"

I ran towards the alley, Jason right on my heels. At the corner, Jason caught my arm, stopped me. I shoved him away, "What the hell!?" and he used my momentum to pull me behind him. He ran on, into the alley. The alley was dark but there's a light over the dumpsters, and in its nasty yellow glare I saw the two sun-fried, lobster tourist guys, manhandling a woman. She was shrieking, sobbing, pinned down by one of the men, the other subduing her from above .

Jason grabbed the standing man, threw him hard against the dumpster, tore the other guy off the woman, all the while yelling, ''What the fuck!'' and to me, ''Call 911!" I'm American so I knew he meant call the police, even though the emergency number here in Fiji is 999.

Even as I spoke to the dispatcher, I ran over to the woman, knelt at her side, I gently brushed her long dark hair aside. It was one of my housemates, a beautiful local girl named Leilani. Her eye was swollen, her lip was bleeding, her bikini top's string had been snapped by vicious hands, one smooth brown breast revealed. I knew the red streaks there would be livid bruises by morning. I helped her stand---the alley was dirty and wet---and wrapped her in my arms.

All this happened in seconds. Maybe a minute had passed since we first heard her screams.

One of the fried tourists growled, "What the fuck are you doing!" He was glaring at Jason.

The other, ''What's your problem, asshole?"  They both straightened up, the dumpster at their backs.

Guy number one yelled, "She's a 'ho! She was asking for it! Look how she's dressed."

Jason glanced at my friend, as if to check out her clothes. Leilani wore the perfectly decent though skimpy cafe uniform of bikini top and short sarong skirt. I was ready to get really pissed off, but he just turned back to the fried guys and spoke in the coldest voice imaginable, "I don't care if she was naked with a For Sale sign hung around her neck, asshole. No means no." He handed me his awful luau shirt and I wrapped Leilani in its warmth.

''What the fuck do you know, faggot! Who the hell do you think you are? You can't just come and interrupt!" yelled the fat red tourist and he made the mistake of lunging at Jason, who calmly watched him come. And then---somehow, spun and kicked the guy hard in the head. The guy went down hard, and his buddy attacked, was instantly taken out by an elbow to his nose as Jason finished the crazy kung-fu twirl. Fried guy two's eyes rolled  up in his head and he collapsed on the filthy pavement. Jason paused a second, waited, and when the first guy rolled over, tried to stand, Jason landed a straight-on kick, hard. Right in the guy's balls.

Jason said, "Field goal!" while the man screamed, folded in on himself into a sobbing fetal ball and lay writhing beside his unconscious friend.

It was like something out of Matrix, or a martial arts film. Jason just stood there, all casual, not even breathing fast. Leilani and I stared at him.

Silence.

Then sirens blared and the cops came. Two familiar faces from town, lumbering into the scene. "Police!" No weapons out, just metal billy clubs in hand.

They pulled up short when they saw our little tableau. Both uniformed cops knew me and Leilani by sight and one officer came over to us, said, "Leilani, sweetheart? What happened?"

She raised her bloody, tearstained face. "He, they, they---They tried to..."

Jason said, "Attempted rape. Assault and battery.

The cops looked down at the bad guys. "They aren't gonna bother anyone soon, mister."

Jason looked down, nudged the unconscious one with his flip-flopped foot. "Oops."

"They tried to rape Leilani,'' I yelled. The cops shot me disinterested looks. They seemed more interested in Jason taking the tourists out.

"Uh huh. You're a visitor to our island, sir?"  they asked.

''Just passing through, dude."

"Can we see some ID? A passport?''

Jason went very still and silent and an uncomfortably long pause ensued. Finally he dug a wallet out of his cargo shorts, handed it over to the nearest cop. The officer opened it looked, read...and kept on looking. His lips moved a little, no sound.

The other cop, the one by me and Leilani, finally said, ''What?''

The first cop passed him the wallet. More silence that I interpreted as "stunned"...

Jason raised an eyebrow.

The first cop said, "Call for backup, let's get these guys in cuffs."  He returned Jason's wallet, dug out his handcuffs.

He told us, "The backup car can take these scumbags to the lockup, we'll transport the victim to headquarters get her statement."

Leilani shuddered in my arms, started to cry softly.

''No! She should go home,'' I said.

The officers looked over at Jason, like all of a sudden he was running the show, like he was in charge.

Jason told the cops, ''We're taking Leilani home. Now. She'll file a complaint in the morning."

''Yessir.''

''Assault and battery. Attempted rape. Maybe grievous bodily harm.'' Jason's voice was calm, quiet. And scary.

"Yessir.''

''You'll have no problem holding these men til she comes in.''

''No sir, I mean yessir.''

"Fine. Lexi, let's go. We'll get the Jeep, drive her home.''

Leilani and I followed meekly. Jason put us in the old Wrangler at Spanky's, drove us to my little rental house, never said a word.

He pulled up in front. I said, "I'll stay with her tonight, probably." I didn't want him to come in, I didn't think Leilani needed male company right now.

He just nodded. "Call me if you need me. You have my cell number. Or come by...whenever."

Leilani leaned forward. "Thank you."

''No problemo, chica," he said and he gave her his rare million dollar smile.

She walked ahead, on into our tiny house, I went to follow, turned back, learned into the Jeep and studied Jason's face for a moment.

"You could have killed them...."

"No, sweetheart. If I wanted them dead, they'd be dead dead dead." His beautiful almost black eyes watched me warily.

"Who are you?'' I whispered.

Now he almost-smiled like he had an amusing thought, but all he said was, ''I'm just a guy, Lexi. A guy who's passing through.''

He put the Jeep in gear and was gone.

Hmmm.

.....

Part Three

[Anthony]

The next day...

a whisper...

...soft lips brushing against my face...

''Wake up, keiki, wake uuuup!" singsonged in my ear, very softly.

I opened my eyes. I didn't shoot anyone. Yet.

Lexi was stretched out next to me, smiling wide, last night's trauma apparently forgotten.

''How did you get in?''

Mock pout. ''You said come over...''

"Mmmm. But I locked the door.''

''Spanky keeps another key in the tiki's mouth, the big tiki in the back garden.''

''Okay.'' I wrapped my  arms around her.

She leaned away though.

"Does your foot hurt?"

I thought about it. What? Why? "Uh, I don't think so, baby."

"From, you know, kicking that tourist guy...barefoot."

"I had on my Reefs. With, you know, the cool beer can opener on the bottom, like."

So...?"

"My foot is fine, Lexi." My foot is trained to kick people barefoot. But it is too early to explain that.

She wisely let it go. ''Okay, then. High tide is at 7.43, dawn is at 5.49. There's a boat leaving in 10 minutes.''

''Mmm.'' I kissed her.

''I thought you came to Tavarua to surf? Have to take the boat out if we want big waves.''

I rolled her under me, enjoyed the feel of her smooth soft body. ''Later. There's always another boat."

"You hope,"

"I know, babe."

''Well, hurry.''

''Excuse me...?''

We both laughed. And then we didn't. Laugh anymore, I mean.

Her little tankini suit was easy to dispose of---the bottoms got tossed to the floor and the top pushed up.  Her skin was smooth everywhere and already smelled faintly of coconut sunscreen.  She pulled me down and  put me where she wanted me, then arched up into my thrust.  Yeah.

....

Afterwards, she told me, "You don't need to shower! Hurry!"

I threw on my board shorts, stepped into my wetsuit and pulled it up halfway. Left the top hanging. For a girl Lexi was fast, I was lucky I got to brush my teeth.

In the Jeep she hauled out an old time thermos, poured us both hot sweet coffees. She told me, "I packed us breakfast, we can eat in the boat."

"Good thing. I'm starved. What's the surf report, babe?"

Lexi pointed to the turn for the marina, told me, ''Cloudbreak has a twelve foot pipeline going, winds steady, five knots, from the west."

''The break should be excellent then, we'll have three, four hours on top of the tide.''

She looked at me, surprised.

"Baby, I've been here before. It's a primo spot, world class."

''I never..."

''No, no, not at Spanky's, here like, you know---Fiji and the islands.''

''Don't you ever work?'' she asked. Then, ''Sorry! I know better than to ask that. I'm sure you're all about the Endless Summer thing, and someday.''

I wanted to frown but the day was too perfect. I just shrugged ''Maybe. Someday." Whatever the hell that means.

...  ...

Later still....

Cloudbreak

Prob'ly you don't want a wave by wave action report, right? So I'll just go with Cloudbreak was  radical. When we lost the tide and the reef got too scary, the boat took us back to shore. I dropped Lexi at her job, spent the afternoon in the hammock. With my iPad. Working. She didn't  need to know that though.

...  ...   ..

Later that night, over a moonlit picnic at 'our' cove, I realized Lexi had gone silent. I brushed her blonde hair away from her face, cupped her brown shoulder.

"You're very quiet, what's wrong?''

"The police came by today, while I was at work.''

''Yeah?''

"They needed my statement."  She shivered.  ''And...."

I pulled her against me for warmth and comfort, tried not to read her thoughts. But..."You're a big girl, Lexi, a smart woman. Fiji is no paradise, it just looks that way. There's more crime here in Fiji than in NYC. Not just drunk tourist assholes either....Poverty, isolation..."

I heard myself, stopped abruptly. I had lapsed out of Jason's surfer persona and into Anthony Stewart's analytical self. It's hard to relax and trust someone---a nice woman like Lexi for instance---and yet maintain one's alter ego 100%. But Lexi was too engrossed in her own misery for her to notice

She said, ''I know but... I had to make an appointment for Leilani to see a trauma counselor. I didn't expect to see my friend raped, molested, beaten. Oh, god, Jason, you should see her face today!"

I saw it in her head. The bruises marred Leilani's beauty but they'd fade.

''She'll heal, Lexi. She's young and beautiful, and she has good friends."

''I hope so...''

I gave her a little hug and we sat there looking at the stars. Then Lexi asked me, ''How did you know what I was thinking? Even the wording, the Paradise Lost  thing...?''

Deny, deny...

I kissed the top of her head and told her, ''Last one in the water buys pink umbrella drinks at the bar!'' I tugged her to her feet, and we ran through the moonlight together. I think we were happy, just for awhile.

...   ...   ...

[Lexi]

We made love in the warm water of the cove. And again in the big white bed in Spanky's shack. Jason was---is---an amazing lover. And so beautiful.... He fell asleep quickly afterwards. It had been a long day and I finally dug myself out of my haze of lust and fascination, realized this beautiful man had arrived at Spanky's exhausted and more severely injured than he admitted. In the low light of the bedroom's lamp I could clearly see the blue-black stain of the bruise on his side, and I knew it was overlaid with deeply scored, angry red gouges. So he deserved his sleep.

But I lay there idly pondering his contradictions and secrets. I heard but didn't point out the times he sounded more like a Wall Street lawyer than a surfer bum; I didn't ask him how he learned the martial arts, or where, or why. And I didn't ask him again what his name really was.

 Jason  turned a bit, onto his side, drew me against him, my back to his front with his face buried in my hair. He whispered, "You smell so good, babe. Like flowers...." His breathing slowed again and he fell into a deeper layer of sleep.

I looked across the bedroom at the scarred old wooden dresser. Things from his pockets were piled there haphazardly.  I could see the shells we'd dived for, some wrinkled and probably wet currency, some coins.  His very nice leather wallet that didn't quite fit his image. For a moment I thought about getting up and looking....what name might be on the ID inside?  What was in there that caused the deference from the beat cops last night?

Did it matter?  Would it change anything?  He was just a guy, another surfer, a wave bum, just passing through in search of the perfect wave.

So I didn't get up.  I relaxed into the strong arms curled around me, feeling wonderful, feeling cherished. Like the waves, there would always be another guy tomorrow, next week. I like it like that. I do.

My eyes drifted shut and I slept too.

...   ...   ...

The room was filled with the pink light of dawn when I woke up with a start. The bed beside me was empty and the tiny bure was filled with the loud whump-whump-whump of a helicopter's rotors, too close to the house for comfort or safety. Some idiot landing at the resort, I thought sleepily. Odd that they were landing off to the east, the resort is to the west. Under that noise I could hear the shower running. Jason was up early, too bad.

I snuggled into his pillow, inhaled his scent of sunscreen and salt water and some sort of expensive soap or cologne. Another dead giveaway, keiki,  I mumbled. I put the pillow over my head and dozed off.

Or tried to. But the shower shut off, and Jason appeared a few minutes later in a skimpy towel, smelling clean, perfectly shaved. I watched him through my eyelashes. He dressed efficiently in ratty cargo shorts and a long sleeved grey t-shirt with a stylized Tavarua wave, a newly purchased souvenir, oddly out of character and endearing.

The helicopter's engines slowly dialed down outside on the point past Sparky's.

He drew a duffle out from under the bed, very quietly, so as not to disturb my supposed sleep. He moved away, unzipped the bag, gave a quick look and rummage inside, then zipped it shut. He set it by the door next to his beloved Reefs with the bottle opener on the soles. He stuck his feet into them and stood a moment. He came back to the bedside. If I hadn't been watching him I'd never have heard him, he moved as silently and fluidly as a ghost, a wraith, a hallucination. A chimera?

I kept my smile hidden and breathed slow and deep. He'd know if a chimera was a an imaginary object, a fantasy, the education in his speech came through, just like the Wall Street did...sometimes.

Jason reached again under the bed, once twice, more. Two smooth and lethal black handguns, some other things, perhaps knives. These weapons disappeared into pockets and sleeves like magic.

Then he stood again, finally sat down next to me. He brushed my hair away and kissed my cheek, He whispered, ''Be sure to put Spanky's keys back, sweetheart. Okay? Don't forget." I murmured a little. He added, "A hui hou kakou," ---Until we meet again...then, ''Aloha.'' He stood and silently was gone.

When the door clicked shut behind him I jumped up and ran to the window. The man who I knew as Jason Bourne (give me a break!) strode decisively through Spanky's palm trees, past the lanai and our hammock, across the white sand to the waiting sleek BellJet corporate helicopter. It was black with black glass windows, an airborne sports car of sorts. The door slid back and a young woman in tropical business attire---linen pencil skirt, sleeveless silk blouse, pearl, heels---stepped out. A man followed her, took Jason's duffle, stowed it inside. The woman was talking a mile a minute, but I could see that her attitude, and that of the man, was deferential. Jason was nodding as he climbed aboard.

The helicopter door slid shut. The rotors whined and whirled, and it suddenly was aloft, wheeling away into the rose and purple sunrise.  I put my hand on the window and watched it leave. And I whispered, "Pomaika`i. Aloha...."  Goodbye. Good Luck

'Aloha' can also mean love, or I love you. Did you know that?

Spanky's bure` backyard

the end

a/n: Melody and I has so much fun with this! Thank you, Mel!

[In Mel's defense. she wanted Anthony to tell Lexi he was leaving, for them to have a goodbye scene/talk/ kiss...maybe have him explain himself, just a little? But my Anthony doesn't do that, it would never cross his mind even. Like Ranger he just does whatever the hell he has to do. And never looks back....]