ejabbyfanficbywdb-blog

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chabby fantasy for valentines day by ClaudiaYvette

[ejabbyfanficbywdb-blog]

The Dimera Has Two Faces

At last they were together. Alone with their child.

Thomas Jack slept peacefully in the adjacent room of their suite in the Salem Inn. Chad hoisted Abigail up in a dance of joy, cupping his low hands strategically to hold her close to him. They kissed as if it had been a lifetime.

Eyes closed blissfully, Abigail snuggled into Chad’s shoulder and said, “Oh EJ.”

The world stopped.

“Oh my God!” Abigail sputtered and choked on her words, as Chad lowered her down. “Oh my God, Chad! I’m so sorry! I don’t know why I said that! I’m here with you, where I want to be! The two of us and our son. Maybe . . . maybe it was all those horrible things JJ said, about my lack of judgment, and EJ and me! But I didn’t mean it, Chad! Please, I didn’t mean it!”

“Many a truth is spake in jest,” Chad replied, seeming to stare right through her.

“You’re quoting Shakespeare? Now?” Abby replied.

“Not Shakespeare, darling,” came the response with a twinkle. “Chaucer. The Cook’s Tale, to be precise. But you like to cook, don’t you? I particularly remember your cupcakes?”

Abigail backed away. She could hear much less Salem and much more Soho in Chad’s voice. His entire demeanor seemed to change; he seemed to stand taller, as if he’d been stooping before.

“No, “ she put her hand to her mouth. “It can’t be! EJ??!!”

He reached forward and took her in his strong arms. The voice she heard was entirely EJ’s, although the face still looked like Chad Dimera’s.

“In the flesh, darling. My sister, Kristen, injected my dying body with one of father’s wonder drugs. Don’t know what poor fellow he cremated in my place. He held me at a clinic of his in Switzerland. But I escaped, and reached out to Chad. It seems he wanted a new start as much as I did. A little plastic surgery and – C’est voila!”

“But, but . . . Chad loved me. He wanted me.”

“Yes, darling, he did. But you chose Ben. Chad accepted this. And it all was a tad soon after Jordan for him, don’t you think? But I, I couldn’t live another moment without you, despite all the Westons in the Ozarks. I came back for you.”

“But Chad would never abandon his child!” Abigail exclaimed.

“Oh, darling, “ and EJ grinned that wickedly seductive grin, “I’ve been back quite awhile. And I love the garden!”

“So . . . so Thomas is YOURS?!”

“Ours, darling, ours. And I love the name, by the way. ‘TJ’ is remarkably akin to ‘EJ,’ don’t you think? Or deep-down, did you know the real truth?”

He scooped her once more into his arms. She knew it was true. Just as she knew the unimportance of appearance. They were together again. That was all that mattered.

“But Chad?” the ever-caring Abigail asked. “What’s happened to him? Is he okay?”

“Plastic surgery cuts both ways, my darling,” EJ replied. “Right now, he and Jordan are enjoying his new face and their new life, far away from Salem and the Dimeras.” EJ’s heart smiled at her through Chad’s eyes. Who said you can’t have it all?

“Perhaps we have time for a quick shower before our son awakens?” . . .

A half a continent away, a darkly handsome young man was closing up his new establishment for the night, Club VBG*. He himself had a late date with a beautiful physical therapist.

Just as he went to lock the door, one straggling customer tried to gain entry.

“Sorry, buddy, we’re closed,” Chad said.

“That’s okay; thanks any . . . wait! Rafe Hernandez? Haven’t seen you since our FBI days! What the heck are you doing in St. Louis?”

*(Very Big Grin!)

[ejabbyfanficbywdb-blog]

Ej needs Abby: chapter1

Stefano to Abigail, "I know you love my son."

Abigail: "I don't love Chad."

Stefano: Not that son. The one who is being kept artificially alive in a clinic in Italy."

Abigail: "What?"

Stefano: "The doctors say that he can only be roused from his coma by being given something to live for. That something is you, my dear."

Abigail: "But what about Sami?"

Stefano: "I've had the speaker phone on in his hospital room when I've spoken with Samantha about seeing my grandchildren. Her voice caused no response. But yours, on the other hand . . . "

Abigail: "My voice?"

Stefano: "As I told you, I know -- and hear -- everything that goes on under my roof. And when I played your voice for Elvis, only then did his vital signs change. Abigail, you can bring him back from the dead. He loves you, and I know you love him. It was his loss that drew you back to Chad; I understand this. But the doctors say that time is short. He is slipping away, even as we speak. Please, Abigail, get on the plane with me now. Save my son's life! Only you can do this!"

Abigail told herself that she could not let any human being die, not when she could help it. The people she respected most, her mother, brother, Daniel, they would all have understood. She was saving a life, that was all. It had nothing to do with EJ. So why had she left without telling any of them why? She had texted Ben and her mom that her former Nanny in Ireland had taken a turn, that she was asking for Abigail, and she had had to leave suddenly. Would they believe her? Chad would surely check the Dimera mansion and Chad. When he found him to be there without Abby, that should satisfy him for awhile. Stefano was waiting in the private jet on the runaway when she arrived. "I knew you would not abandon him," he said. Then he went through a curtain and left her with her thoughts. The jet's engines rumbled and came to life. Abigail's heart, her passion, began to do the same. It surprised her; she had thought she was over EJ. Thought that Chad and Ben had proved this . . . "You're alive," she whispered to herself. It still amazed her. The engines revved, stronger and stronger. So did Abigail's pulse; she closed her eyes and tried to steady herself. But all she could see was EJ's face, those dark perceptive eyes seeing clear down to her soul. Knowing exactly what she wanted. How to bring her there. The jet started down the runway. There was EJ in her mind's eye -- bending to her,holding her to himself. The island. The shower. The intensity of the approach. The ascent. The lift off . . . Abigail stifled a little cry as the jet took flight toward the man who had never left her, the love she had sought, but only approximated,in others. "I tried, EJ, I tried," she said under her breath. "But I never could abandon you." Abigail looked out the window at the lights of Salem twinkling below. Beautiful, some even lovable. But none of them the sun that could rise over her horizon. "You're alive," she said fully aloud. "And so am I."

Back From the Dead - chapter 2

The black limousine cruised easily through the winding roads of the Italian countryside. The little hills, the robin’s egg sky, the shimmering poplars -- all beautiful, and all wasted on Abigail, lost as she was in her own thoughts.

Stefano had been nowhere to be seen when she’d disembarked the plane, but his presence was still everywhere. “Only you can save his life,” he had told her. “Only you.”

The limousine was top of the line. For such a contained space, she felt oddly uncontained. It reminded her of the storage room in the hospital, where she and EJ . . . Her mind returned to that afternoon. Every sway of the car was he swaying her in his arms; each dip and rise in the road, their finding one another, pulling back to stare amazedly at each other, then each returning to the other’s embrace. Yes, that tiny space had contained a whole universe -- hers, theirs. She had thought that world had passed forever. Now she knew it was only sleeping. Waiting for her.

The car pulled up to a lovely white building by a calm, clear lake. “More like a villa than a clinic,” Abby thought to herself. The silent driver opened her door and motioned for her to enter. Inside, sat a rather large, stern woman, looking like she’d be more at home in a Wagner opera than in her nurse’s uniform. She merely humphed at Abigail and pointed down a corridor.

Abigail walked slowly down the hallway, as if in a dream. Open doors to the left and the right revealed hospital beds, each empty. If EJ were a patient here, he was the only one.

Finally, Abigail came to a room at the end of the hall with a closed door. She knocked tentatively and opened it. Inside, lying on a crisp white hospital bed, white gossamer curtains fluttering in the lake breeze, was EJ Dimera.

His was shirtless; leads of various types were taped to his chest and led to machines that beeped and buzzed and monitored. But he didn’t look in the least diminished. On the contrary, he looked powerful and strong, like a warrior resting before vaulting once more into the fray.

Abigail took his hand. “EJ,” she said, “It’s me, Abby. I’m here. EJ, please, open your eyes.”

His eyes stayed closed; the machines registered no change. Abigail leaned closer.

“Please, EJ. Can you hear me? It’s Abigail. I’ve come for you. Please come back to me. Find me. Like you always did. At the cabin, remember? At the hospital? You always found me. This is my hand in your hand, EJ. These are my fingers curled around yours. Squeeze me back. Hold me again, EJ. I won’t let you go. I won’t!”

Still no response.

“Maybe you can’t hear me on the surface,” Abigail said, “but your feelings -- I know they’re there, underneath. I know you can feel me, no matter what.”

She reached over, and gently began to spread herself over him, like a comforter, a reminder. Gingerly, she lowered herself down. Her face touched his face. Her breathing matched his, motion for motion. Her hips and legs stretched out over his like a surfer seeking the perfect wave. Her arms overlapped his; her fingers ran across his.

Everything about her corresponded to him. As it always had.

Slowly, carefully, she kissed him.

"EJ, I breathe you with my breath,” she whispered.

She stilled herself, willing her heart to beat in rhythm with his, strongly pulsing beneath her chest.

“My heart beats with your heart.”

She allowed herself to feel as she had felt that day on Smith Island, when they had first really known each other. In the full, rich afterwards, they had held each other just like this, parallel lines that weren't supposed to meet, to ever intersect. But merge they had. The laws of physics, even the rules of medicine, were nothing compared to the reality of such love, such passion.

“There is nothing about you that I do not love,” Abigail sighed, her eyelashes fluttering against his.

"COSA E'QUESTO?!! WHAT IS THIS?!!"

The nurse’s bellowing voice sent Abigail tumbling from the bed.

“PERVITTO!!” The nurse raised her impressive fists and started toward Abigail. “PUTTANA!!”

Abigail ducked down and raised her arms over her face.

“Must you be such a prude, nurse?” A familiar voice coated the room like velvet. “You’d fit right in in Salem.”

Abigail whipped around frantically. There, sitting upright on the bed, leads snapped off like a gladiator unchained, beamed EJ Dimera.

“I’m starving, darling,” he grinned that dashing grin. “I don’t suppose you brought any of your cupcakes, by any chance?”