Credit must be given where it is due, especially for fabulous works. Our story picks up at the end of "Amnesia" as posted by 1TheDarkEyedOne1; it was originally written by Kim Colley and archived in The Net Yahoo groups. Thanks to the former for sharing, and to the latter for writing.

Space Needle to Stratosphere

Dinner was a sublime and magnificent affair. Angela was pleasantly surprised by what a fantastic cook Sean was. He diced, sautéed, baked, and garnished, working the kitchen in a manic frenzy, but somehow managing to steal kisses from her every fifteen minutes. It was not immediately obvious, but he maintained an organized efficiency amidst the apparent chaos and made the entire process look effortless.

Angela found it immeasurably sexy and could not tear her eyes from his busy hands. How many times have we sat like this, just us two?

"No, really! There must be something I can do." She laughingly insisted for the fifth time, in between sips of an exquisite glass of wine he had poured for her. Her legs were crossed and dangling off of a high bar stool.

She leaned across the kitchen island, on which her Sean was rapidly chopping up garlic, and whispered conspiratorially, "Would you like some music? I could sing for you…"

He burst out laughing. "I appreciate the thought, Darling…" Another kiss, chaste and sweet. "… Alright, since you insist so hard on assisting me – " He made a great show of looking around the kitchen for some chore for her before turning back.

"Yes?" Angela smiled sweetly at him. The wine was giving her a lovely buzz, and he looked damn good in his black button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

"I could use some compliments. How about you tell me what a strong and handsome man I am, and how sexy everything I'm doing is? You know, sport commentary style…"

"Oh!" She giggled and sat her glass down, beginning to recount everything he was doing with great flattering exaggeration. She stopped and stared when he opened the oven door and took out the glazed salmon, followed by scallops with honeyed walnuts, mushroom stuffed with buttered beef and onions, and generous sides of snow peas and potato au gratin. The presentation for every dish was flawless.

"Sean, this looks… just amazing!" She felt overwhelmed by the decadent feast spread before her eyes.

Sean was looking immensely pleased with himself. "Well, it's your first dinner at home since… the incident. It's cause for celebration. For a while there, I thought…" He sobered up for a few seconds, and then the smile reappeared. "I'm the luckiest man alive, Love, to have you back by my side."

His serious face grew blurry, and Angela hastily dabbed tears from her eyes. She leaned over and kissed him, her hand cradling his face. "Thank you," she murmured.

"Mmmm." He looked into her eyes. Then he straightened up, poured himself a glass of wine, too, and raised it. "Cheers to second chances."

Angela grinned and clinked her glass against his. They began eating. Everything was delicious and seasoned to perfection. However, she was secretly disappointed that none of the food rang any bells in her mind. She had hoped that his cooking would somehow taste familiar. Give it a little more time. It's only been two days!

"So I was thinking we could use a little vacation. How do you feel about spending your sick leave in Vegas? It was one of our favorite vacation spots." There was a reminiscent gleam in his eyes. "I'd lose track of the time playing poker, and you went to so many shows, you should get paid writing for travel guides."

"Yeah?" Angela thoughtfully chewed her scallop. The mini-explosions of flavors in her mouth were a little distracting. She swallowed, "Sounds good to me. We do have those two weeks off, right?" He nodded.

Plans were made to leave for Sin City in two days. Full and still-buzzed from their mind-blowing dinner, Angela helped her husband clean up, insisting that since he had done all the cooking, chipping in for the aftermath was the least she could do. Her stern gaze made Sean relent and they chattered happily as the mess was quickly cleared away. There was an undercurrent of intimacy sharing the mundane tasks, and when Sean had put the last plate in the dishwasher and set it to run, she found herself staring into his eyes. The sudden silence felt charged, and she did not dare break the spell.

He leaned in and captured her lips. Angela draped her arms around his shoulders and opened her mouth to him. When he groaned and picked her up, she straddled her legs around his waist and let him carry her up the stairs and into their bedroom.

They fell heavily into the huge, luxurious bed with their limbs entwined. Sean's lips and hands were everywhere, roaming freely and inching her sundress up to reveal more skin. His stiffness pressed insistently against her thigh, and when he cupped a hand and gently squeezed her left breast, Angela moaned into his mouth.

Encouraged, he yanked the dress over her head and it went sailing to the floor. He sat up and unbuttoned his shirt impatiently, while his eyes raked over her near-naked body with a hungry lust. Even though Angela was now only clad in her bra and underwear, she felt feverish in the heat of their contact.

He kissed her deeply then trailed his lips down her jawline, to the crook of her neck, to the valley between her breasts. His voice was husky when he spoke, "I'd be lying if I didn't admit… I've been looking forward to this moment, you and me alone, since seeing you in the hospital."

Angela felt her heart jump. In the blink of an eye, she had shoved him off and tore across the room, stopping at the doorway. Her face was deathly pale as she stared at her husband, half naked on the bed and gazing at her in shock. Her heart was racing and she felt goosebumps breaking out all over.

"Honey – everything ok?" Sean stammered weakly.

Angela could not speak. She felt slightly insane, but in her mind, her Sean was looming over her, holding onto her tightly with a knife pressed against her throat. What was that all about? Where in the world did that image come from?

"I… I don't know…" It was the truth. A little voice in her mind was telling her to tread the water very carefully right now. "Um… I thought… did you…" Do NOT say the first thing that pops into your head. Count to three. One… two… three…

"Sweetie?" Sean had swung his legs over the bed and was walking rapidly to her. She stared at him, torn between the instinct to share the impossible image that came to her mind and her impulse to turn and flee.

He put his arms around her and gently embraced her. "I'm sorry, Angela. I keep forgetting not to rush you. Please forgive me."

Her face pressed against his bare shoulders, Angela nodded. Once again, she felt safe in his arms. But she needed time – alone time – to process what had just happened. Her gut feeling was telling her to examine that bizarre moment in private.

She looked up into his warm, worried eyes and forced a smile. "It's ok. I think it's just been a long day. I'm more exhausted than I realize. I think… I'll probably have a bath and turn in for the night."

Disappointment fleeted across his face, but it was gone in the next moment and he nodded in understanding. "Yes, of course, that sounds like a good idea. I didn't mean to push you. We will take as much time as you need." He paused for a moment. "I love you, Angela."

She gently extricated herself from his arms, grabbed a change of clothes, and walked as quickly as she can toward the bathroom without running. At the door, she paused and turned around. He was still standing in the same spot, watching her with an inscrutable expression on his face. As hard as she tried, Angela could not decipher what he was thinking.

"Thank you for dinner. It was lovely." She said in an attempt to smooth over the awkward moment. Something was very, very wrong, and the air itself seemed to hum with a sinister quality. He nodded, and she disappeared into the bathroom, shutting the door gently behind her.