By Trynia Merin

Disclaimer: Paul Stanley, Gene Simmons and KISS are actual persons, and they are property of themselves. The portrayal of them in this story is fictitious, and is the work of a fan, for entertainment purposes only, not to demean or harm the people mentioned. Other characters are copyright by Trynia Merin. My thanks to Eisencookie, Ms Starchild and Ilovepaul66 for help with this story!

Peering out at the snow, Paul hesitated and turned to Karen. He smiled and said, "If you want... I mean... I could bring the car around. It's starting to look sloppy out there."

"How... gentlemanly." she laughed, taking his hand. "You don't have to. But why not?"

"Sure," he said, and then stopped as she dug through her purse to get her keys out. With a jingle, she handed them over to him, fingers touching his briefly.

"It's the Monte Carlo," she said. "The champagne colored one."

"Or...I could try to carry you...I suppose." he chuckled. Before she could think, he leaned down and grabbed her knees, tossing her easily over his shoulder. He strode slowly across the parking lot as the snow still falls.

"Oh god Paul..." she got out. "You're serious?"

"Damn New York" he chuckled lightly. His amazing display of strength left her breathless amongst the silence of the newly falling snow.

"Damn... you're... strong..." she half laughed, half gasped.

"Besides...I can't have you falling. Not tonight," he said as he leaned her close. Along the street they walked, the entire two blocks to the fenced-in parking lot, crossing through the entrance. Soon he found her car, and set her down lightly so he could open the door.

"Stan, your clothes..." she says, clutching his paper bag in her arms with her purse. She hands the bag to him, keeping her purse.

"Shit...umm...yeah, I'll just throw them in the back, is that OK?" He opened the passenger side and puts the bag in the back seat. Then, he motioned Karen to get in the passenger side, assuming that he was going to drive. For an awkward moment they exchanged glances, so many words unsaid in each gesture.

"You sure? You want to drive?" she asked.

"Just pretend it's a date," he said, smiling softly. "Let me make up for 25 years of crappy relations."

"Okay..." she relented, climbing into the car. Paul reached in, put the keys into the ignition, and grabbed the snow scraper she had at her feet. He began to attack the accumulated snow piling on her car while she sat inside and waited. She switched on the radio to drown out Paul's snow scraping, and fill the silence of her awkwardness. A

door to locked emotions had been opened, and she squirmed with the sudden flood of feelings she had not allowed herself to feel for almost twenty years. It had been so easy to go on hating him that now that she was deprived of that focus, her life loomed before her,

intimidating.

"You're too kind," she muttered. Finally when the front windshield was clear, Paul opened the door and swung behind the wheel. He fumbled with the buttons to adjust the seat, lost in the depths of her comfortable car.

"It's right there," she said, gingerly leaning her hand between his knees to show him the controls. He muttered a bit to himself about the buttons, but managed to get comfortable. Clicking his seat belt into place, he tried his foot on the gas, and pushed the automatic

shift into reverse.

"How about your wiper blades?" he asked her. "I hope you've got someone who checks out things like this."

"Uh... Paul stop fussing," she sighed. "You're not taking me to mars ok?"

"I'm NOT fussing. I'm just making SURE, OK?" he said, pouting slightly.

"Sheesh," she muttered. "Some things NEVER change."

"Because if you don't do things like changing the oil and the coolant, you're looking at big problems."

Karen slipped in a CD she selected from the holster behind the passenger side sunshade. As Paul continued to fuss, she punched the button. Lita Ford comes on with her song Kiss Me Deadly.

"But it's your car, so do what you want," he muttered, crossly, miffed at the music masking his voice.

"Stan, just drive," she said, nudging him. He punched the defrost control into high setting and adjusted the rear view mirror one more time. Foot punching the gas, he sent the car lurching backwards and to the left, just like in the days of cabdriving. Karen lost her

breath, clutching the armrest in sudden fear and panic.

"You are a NUT!" she laughed, when he swung out of the parking lot and gunned the engine to send them slipping into the street. Paul regarded her for a moment, incredulous.

"Where to, sweetheart?" he said, finally breaking into a grin.

"The diner, good sir," she pointed. "Marco Polo's 24 hours... Some idiot changed the name 10 years ago."

"Sounds damn tasty" he teased.

"It used to be Vinnie's Spot," she said when they drove up the street in less then two minutes flat. Paul swung the car into a spot out front, right next to the handicapped spot. She half waited for him to get out first, unclipping her belt. Hand poised on the door handle, she watched him climb out, then close his door. A shadow fell across her sight as he crossed the front of the car, and then she heard the click of the door opening for her.

"Front tires a bit low, left side" he says quietly, hand extended to help her out. She ignored him, and pulled him along to the front of the diner.

Still in the jeans and bandanna with his wool coat overtop, he looked almost like a young man of the present generation. Time had suddenly stood still.

"Come on," she says, stopping to take his hand. He walked into the diner first, blinking comically at the bright lights. To his left were one of those prize machines with stuffed animals, and several gumball machines. She took out a pack of smokes and then tossed it

back into her purse with a sigh.

"No smoking," she muttered, noting the sign. "Figures... damn ban."

Walking up to the kid at the cash register, Paul leaned on it and tapped to get the attention of the host. "We'd like a booth please, away from the general public."

"Sure, sir, how many?" the young man, who couldn't have been more then twenty with his glasses and short cut said.

Paul blinked at the kid comically as he said, "Uh...two, as you can see."

"I will STRANGLE the jerk that banned smoking in New York restaurants," she grumbled. Paul turned to her a moment and hushed her. "Sorry, I haven't had my cancer stick yet..." she mumbled.

He reached into his jeans to get his wallet and slipped a $50 bill in the kid's hand as he asked, "What exactly would happen if perhaps asmoker DID come in here and smoke?"

"Uh sir I can't... " he said firmly, pushing the bill back to Paul.

"But if you didn't SEE anything..." Paul insisted, pushing the bill back.

"Forget it Stan, I'll just smoke outside," she waves her hand. "Later."

He turned to her and smiled, "Have it your way. I was JUST about to get you what you want."

"Not likely,' she muttered under her breath.

"I'm sorry sir," the boy apologized. "We can't make any exceptions."

"Not a big deal, kid," Paul said briskly, "Just get us a nice table out of the way."

"Right this way sir," he said. "And by the way, your desserts and beverages are free."

Grabbing two menus, he motioned them to follow him. They reached a booth in the rear of the diner, out of the way of the few patrons at the front counter. Paul slid into the booth, and Karen sat down tentatively, first hanging her coat on the rack by the booth seat. Paul tossed his coat down alongside him, casually.

"Keep this anyway," Paul winked at the kid, handing him the fifty-dollar bill again. "I've been in your shoes. You need it more than me."

"Sir," he said. Karen grabbed his arm and whispered into his ear. He smiled politely and nodded, taking the money and putting it into his pocket. Paul watched her, confused.

"Never you mind," she winked as she opened her menu.

He looked at her directly, "You KNOW him?"

"Yes," she nodded. "His father owns this diner."

"A bit YOUNG for you, wouldn't you say?" he teased.

"He's the youngest of 10 kids helping to run it," she said. "The oldest is about 10 years younger then me."

"Damn, that's a chore."

"Well Mr. Vinnie is getting on in years," Karen said. Just then a young man, older then the first comes in, and he smiles at Karen."Karen! Long time," he said, leaning over to give her a peck on the cheek.

"Hi Toni," she laughed. Paul watched him a moment.

"Miss Popularity," Paul chirped, a bit jealously.

"And who is this charming gentleman escorting you tonight?"

"He's with me," she said firmly. "I'm showing him the sights."

"Her ex-husband, actually," Paul clarified, a bit of jealousy sparking in his eyes.

"Ah, I beg your pardon sir..." he said quietly, apologizing. He backed away from Karen, and held up his notepad. "Can I get you coffee or something to drink?"

Paul makes brief eye contact with Karen and smiles slightly, as she shook her head, 'I'm assuming you have hand made shakes?"

"Stanley dear, don't antagonize him," she scolded playfully.

"This is Stanley?" Toni asked with a smile. "Pleased to meet you sir..."

"You're heard of me?" Paul said, distracted. "Imagine that."

Picking up a menu, Paul started to play with it. "Ex husband?" Toni asked. "I've met your son, Elliott... he's a good kid... It's nice to meet you, Mr. Eisen."

"Elliott is a good kid," Paul smiled, regarding Karen with amusement. She grinned when the men shook hands.

"I'd like some coffee, black please..." Karen said.

"And you sir?"

"I'd like a chocolate shake... yes, I would... and a cup of coffee after dinner."

"Certainly... I'll be right back with your drinks while you look at the menu." he nodded and walked off.

"Picking them sort of young these days, aren't you, miss?" Paul teased.

"Hmm, he's married," Karen said hastily. "To one of the waitresses."

"Oh, DAMN" he says, with sarcasm. Paul continued to look up and down the menu, mainly out of nervousness.

"Why you want his number?" she joked. "He DOES have a brother..."

Paul closed the menu quickly and bopped her with it. "THAT will cost you."

She giggled, "What? My sanity, Mr. Eisen?"

"Remember that one diner we used to go to, that had those really skinny French fries?"

"Yes,' she smiled. She glanced over the menu, mumbling to herself as she reads off the entrees.

"And you burned your mouth on one and were going to sue... only we couldn't afford a damn lawyer," he chuckled. "Hell, we were lucky we could afford RENT."

She started to giggle, and then asked, "You remember this diner? And how you convinced me to work here?"

"I do. You used to work here," he said, watching her with dark eyes. "You and Gene were livid when you found out I was waitressing at the titty bar," she laughed.

He laughed harder back, "Remember your first day, when we started to fool around after work, and you got SO scared that the cum stain wouldn't come out of your uniform."

"Yes..." she giggled. "And Ray used some club soda on it..."

"I still can't believe you two did that. Heck, I'd STILL be livid if I found out you were working there. And Gene laughed his ass off."

"Well I leaned my lesson," she smiled. "Thanks to you."

Her blue eyes regard him carefully, examining his face. He still wore the T-shirt and bandanna over his hair. "Kar, let me ask you something..." he began, scratching his head a bit as he used to do.

"What?" she asked. "And by the way, I like that look..."

"Is everything going OK with you... I mean... are you dating? Are you happy?"

"Dating, are you silly?" she laughed. "I have no time for that stuff now... running the guitar store... at least not lately... it's been about six months since I've had a date actually... And I'm trying to write music again..."

"You MUST be joking!" he laughed. "I look like Beavis and Butthead."

"They don't wear a bandanna. And you actually look like a human being, not a Hollywood suit."

"Yeah, well, I still look like them," he said, eyes sparkling.

"They do like KISS," she shrugged.

They were interrupted when the waiter brought their drinks, and Karen eagerly eyed the hot cup of steaming coffee. "So... uh... how long has it been since you've... umm... been with anyone?" he asked, fingering his menu.

"Well, it's been about two years... I did date a guy I met... a record producer... He was trying to convince me to record again. It's been AGES since I have... since the SR reunion tour in 1994... And we put out that greatest hits album," she said, dumping some sugar into her cup from the dispenser on the table.

"But... no problems with... booze or anything?" he said, dark eyes regarding her.

"Not anymore," she said quickly, opening a creamer with fumbling fingers. "I don't drink."

"I'm glad to hear It." he smiled.

"Not after fifteen years ago... thank GOD ray sold that book," said Karen. "I'd never thought I'd be GLAD she was a scientist..."

"You really had Ell worried, you know, and me."

"I know," she sighed. "Damn... it seems like only yesterday I was checking into the rehab center..."

"When he called me up and asked me for money, frankly, I was a bit surprised that you'd take it."

"WHAT?" she asked, dropping her spoon into her coffee with a clang. Blue eyes widened with fear and confusion.

"Ray paid for it. With that best selling book about geology for the common person..."

"Yeah... that you'd take it... oh..." he stopped, realizing his mistake. He took a big gulp of his milkshake.She looked at him hard, "Wait, YOU paid for my rehab?"

"I...I.... Crap.... I didn't know you didn't know," he said, putting down the menu to look at her.

"No I didn't... That nightmare that started 15 years ago... and then ended about ten..." she muttered.

"Ell called me, crying, saying you were a mess and he thought you'd do something DRASTIC."

"Elliot... he was only barely a teenager when he called you..." she gasped.

"And he told me you had no money and no insurance." he says, faltering.

"Stan... you... paid for it... after all I did..."

"And I figure part of it was most likely my fault" he said quietly.

She reached into her purse and pulls out her checkbook. "And I always...always.... Wondered why you'd forgive me enough to take it.

I have to pay you back... I'm sure we can work out something..."

"Karen, I do NOT want it back!" he said firmly.

"Stan, don't be silly, I'm doing well with my shop, and I'm finally getting royalties again for my songs... Liz and I made up about nine years ago..."

"I said NO. What am I going to DO with it? Put in ANOTHER swimming pool?"

"Paul..." she got out.

"WE can talk about that later. Right now I want to ask about you and Liz..."

"She finally returned the rights to my songs..."

"That's wonderful, sweetheart. Reinvest that money back in your store and make a MINT."

"Actually... I was... thinking," she said playing with her spoon.

He leans back in the booth, arms folded, a look of merriment on his face, "Go on...."

"Ray and I... Liz came to us about a year ago... saying she wanted to do a tour... And an album..."

"So...what are you waiting for?"

"I was stunned. I mean we DID reconcile on our 20th reunion tour... but it's not like we made tons of money on it... Enough to get me back on my feet... back then in 1994... After my rehab..."

"But nostalgia's a powerful thing. If you're going to do it, now is the time," Paul said, poking the lumps in his shake with his straw. "Not like you have to SLEEP with them...just play together a few hours a night."

"Well we can't seem to track Trish down... remember Toni did her parts on the tour... I had last heard from her back 15 years ago, when the drinking started to get awfully bad."

"If you really want her back, put an ad in some trade magazines, or hire yourself a private investigator," he said. "At least to see if she's still coherent."

"I don't know Paul. She was furious at me and Ray... back when SR finally lost me... Back in 1981... When she, Liz, and Toni wanted to go punk... and I said NO. Ray had quit the band then, remember? And she was with Gene in LA..."

"I think if you can get it to work, more power to you," he said.

"And you and I were... history by then..." she added shyly, gulping her coffee.

"Yes." he said sadly.

Again the waiter, who asked, "What will it be", diverted their intense conversation?

"Uh, well," Paul said, annoyed at being distracted. "You know what you want, Hon?"

"Just a salad," she said. "And a bowl of soup..."

"I'd like a turkey club, no mayo, with a side salad. Anything else love?"

"All right," he nodded. "Be right back..."

Once they were alone again, Karen asked quietly, "Stan, why couldn't we have stayed together... the girls and me? I got sucked into those TV shows and movies..."

"You're asking the wrong guy" he sighed. "Like Gene... and a solo singing career... it didn't last long though... It's hard finding 3 people who share your exact ideals and work ethics."

"I never told you about the eighties Stan..."

"About how I was stuck in a miserable marriage... with some asshole actor..."

"Shit" he grumbled.

"For three miserable years till in 1984 we finally divorced... Elliot HATED him."

"I know," he said quietly, "He told me."

"Thank GOD ray was there for me... She took that job in New York so she could be near me..." Karen sniffed, wiping away a tear with a napkin from the silver holder.

"But then again, Ell has always held out the dream that you and I would get back together," Paul said. He watched her a minute, then put his hand on hers.

"And when Arthur finally got the divorce papers... she was there," said Karen with a quiet sigh. "I had tried acting, but there wasn't much work for me. So I took what parts I could here and there till 1989. I couldn't get work in LA... and she suggested I open the guitar shop... I had no acting career, and no hope by the time 1990 came around. And then it was Betty ford for me, and I had just come out..."

"I wish...that I had been the one there for you," Paul sighed. "Because for all my promises as a kid as to how I would always be there, truth be told, I wasn't."

"And the guitar store brought me some money. I managed to get a few parts here and there after the divorce, but it was mainly in TV spots and onstage..."

"You're my only regret," he said sadly, "The only bad thing that's ever come out of KISS."

"But I've had the store... since 1990... and after I got my life together, I finally started having parts... a few singing parts in some musicals now and then... and the occasional TV role."

"And business is good?"

"Yes... I put my TV money into it. It's doing ok," she said. "I wish you HAD been there..."

"You know... you can do me a favor too, if you're so inclined."

"What?" she asked. Karen poured herself another cup of coffee, dumping cream and sugar into it.

"You could always carry my new line of guitars." he suggests, stirring his straw in his shake.

"Your Silvertone guitars?" she asked.

"Yes. I'd be willing to make it worth your while."

"Wow, really?" she gasped.

"Yes. A store signing, maybe. Some photos."

"Oh Stan..." she stammered out. She wiped her eyes with her napkin, smudging her mascara.

"Maybe a few autographed guitars to give away."

"I'd be HONORED."

"I need a favor in return, though," he said, looking at the window.

"What?" she asked, sipping more coffee.

"I think you and me... we need to get Elliott to stay out here," he sighed.

"I agree," she nodded.

The waiter again interrupted, putting down Paul's salad, and Karen's salad.

He said nothing, and left quietly.

"Because as much as I'd LOVE him to come to California, I have a feeling he'd end up with the rest of the rich kids, hanging at the beach all day," Paul said, poking his lettuce with his fork. "And Ell's like me. He's a New York boy at heart."

"I don't want that to happen. He's all I have," she said, dumping Cesar dressing onto her salad and taking a huge bite of lettuce.

"You have me, Kar, in some sick and twisted way, but you always have."

She started to work on her salad, covered in feta cheese and olives.

"Do I?" she asked. "After the way I treated you all these years?"

He sighed. "I'm not sure in what capacity, but you know you can always count on me.

"Thank you," she whispered, and started to cry again.

"Kar..." he started. "I have to know something..."

"What?" she asked, distracted her mind a million miles away. She took another bite of salad, wiping her eyes again.

"Uhhhh..." he said, unsure of how to start. "I had a guitar tech on my solo tour, and he, well, he worked a Sweet Revenge tour once... back in the late 70's."

"Yes?" she asked slowly, nibbling on more salad, nervous.

"He told me you were cheating on me," he said, staring directly at her. "Not that it matters now, but I just need to know."

She put down her fork, and pushes her salad away. "Who was he?" she asked in quiet anger.

"It's not important."

"Shit Stan..." she stammered, and then lost control. Tears poured down her face, and she hid her face in her hands.

"Because you SEE, sweetheart, I've been feeling all this guilt over Laura...all this guilt over what happened...and if I wasn't the only one..." he stopped, sighing, and reached over to rub her hair.

"You weren't, ok?" she sobbed, and at her admission he fell silent a moment.

"I met him... on the tour... with SR... He... was the road security head... And he had heard stories of how you and the guy shad girls on the road..."

"I remember that asshole," Paul grumbled.

"He filled my head with stories about you and a lot of women at wrap parties. He said he used to work for KISS... and Sean Delaney," she stammered, playing with her salad. Paul watched her a moment. "He told me that you were seeing this chick Laura... and then after you called me and we had Elliot... he said you'd taken her back."

"I guess you're asking me to deny it?" he said quietly, dark eyes regarding her seriously.

"I was in tears... and he made his move... We got drunk... and we slept together, ok?'

"No wonder, then. I drove you to it, basically."

"I felt like shit," she sobbed.

"You should have," Paul said abruptly.

"And then when I got your note to come meet you in Kansas City, that you'd explain everything to me. And I saw you with Laura, I lost it. I guess... I was angrier that it was true, and I felt some mean gladness that I'd hurt you... And then I felt so empty."

"You didn't tell me you were coming to the hotel that night," he said quietly.

"Should I have sent a flare? You sent me a note!" she shrieked, banging her hand against the table. "Don't' you remember THIS?"

Digging in her purse she pulled out an envelope, and pushed it across to him. He gasped, "What the HELL is this?"

"Don't tell me you don't remember it!" she cried. "READ it, if you deny it!"

Sighing he opened the enveloped and pulled out the piece of paper, crumbled. Typed letters spelled out a telltale message, with a signature that resembled his. And yet a nagging suspicion filled his mind when he realized it was somewhat phony looking. "Are you NUTS? Why would I DO this?" he cried, throwing it down.

"Wait, you didn't... send me this?" she cried.

"HELL, no, Karen. Do you THINK I wanted you to walk in with my newborn son as I'm screwing my mistress?"

"But Leon... he GAVE me this and said you wanted to see me..." she stammered, shaking.

"DID YOUFUCK HER, STAN? -- You SCREAMED that at me!" he said, voice twisted with pain. "And all I could do was stand there like an idiot. And now you're showing me THIS? My god Karen, this isn't like my signature!"

"Oh my GOD..." she gasped, looking at the note. "But it does..."

He grabbed a napkin and scribbled his signature on it, shoving it before her as he pointed to the note. "Does THIS look like that?"

"It does..." she babbled.

"But look CLOSELY... did he use the STAR?" Paul challenged. "LOOK AT the signatures..."

"Oh my fucking god..." she stammered, getting up. "You didn't... send me this..."

"No, HELL, no. I didn't want a divorce!" he shouted. He watched her a moment, tears coming to his eyes, as he sighed, "Whoever did this to me, I guess I deserved it."

"After I left the hotel with Elliot, Leon was there, and he said you'd sent it... because you wanted me to have proof that I wasn't good enough for you..." she wailed, hands over her mouth. She shivered with horror, quaking from head to toe.

"But why would I give you ammo to bury me in court? Wouldn't I just tell you I wanted a divorce?" he asked, forcing back his own tears as his voice broke.

"All these years I thought... you..." she cried, hanging onto the table.

"Karen, I had to admit to my MOM and DAD that the reason we weren't married any more was my own fucking infidelity. "To my DAD, for God's sake, who's been married since the beginning of time to the SAME woman."

"And... Oh my god that fucking BASTARD!" she screamed. Banging her fist on the table, she spun around, back to him.

"Kar, Hon....sit down, please," he said quietly. Getting up, he put his arm around her and urged her to sit. All her strength deserted her as she sank into the booth, weeping. He scooted in next to her, hugging her tightly to him.

"Angel, it's MY fault" he whispers as he rubs her hair, "It's my fucking fault."

"But Stan... he... he must have done it... so he could have me for himself..." she whispered, sobbing into his chest. "He set you up, and me..."

"But if I didn't have anything to hide...." he sighed. "I have played that scene over and over in my head for years."

"All these years I thought it was some sick joke you were playing on me... to spite me..." she sobbed. "What better way to punish me for my infidelity then to have me see you in bed with another woman? By inviting me to your room..."

"I even had to explain it to ELLIOTT," Paul sighed.

"With your mistress... I swallowed that shit from Leon, hook line and sinker..."

"Sweetheart, it's all a mess. That fucking idiot..." Paul snorted angrily. He consoled her as he rubbed her back.

"And he was there to pick up the pieces... We... I dated that asshole for at least a year... And then he suddenly vanishes from my life... and I was all alone... with a kid...'

"I wish you would have called me," he said quietly. "I wish I could have said SOMETHING to you when you yelled at me. Something other than standing there with my mouth hanging open."

"I know..." she whispered. "I went to my brother Steven... you know the priest who married us?"

"I do remember."

"And he convinced me to keep going... so I buried myself in my music, and carried on with SR... Till it fell apart in 1983... and Ray had Jeannie."

"You know what I regret most? After you took Elliott and ran from the room, I let Laura convince me to not go after you." he said, embarrassed.

"I'm not surprised," she sighed. "You know I considered calling you in 1986, but you were dating Donna at the time."

"I'll never forget what she said. When you slammed the door, she looked at me and said, "Well, you FINALLY got what you want." Like it was a GOOD thing," Paul sighed.

"And then I was starting to hit the bottle... and Ray was there... helping me care for Elliot," Karen sniffed, parting from him to look up into his face.

"Karen, I've shitty luck with women," he admitted with a sad laugh. "And sad to say, it's not getting any better with age."

"I was in a bad marriage... To Arthur... and he was an asshole also... I finally rid myself of him in 1985... three years of nothing but grief... I didn't date men for a while after that..."

"But you did a hell of a job raising our son," he reassured her.

"Paul, I had my share of men," she said slowly. "One night stands... and in 1990... I started the guitar store... and my acting career was on the rocks..."

"Honey, I think you SHOULD go forward with the reunion," he said firmly.

"Would you believe in 1992 I saw you guys in concert..." she asked. "Elliot wanted to see you... and he dragged me with him."

"You did? Why the hell didn't you come backstage?"

"I was tempted to go backstage, and I saw you with Pam," she said. "And I found out from some fan you were going to get married."

He chuckled, "Yeah, that would have been the case."

"So I stayed away. I was still angry, but I guess I had some hope that something might happen."

"Something... as in sex?" he asked quietly.

"I don't know... Thank GOD, I finally got my head out of the liquor bottle... And the Valium."

"I just... I just hope that Ell manages to stay straight," said Paul firmly.

"Stan, he scares me. I don't want him to end up like his burnout mom."

"Don't LET me hear you say that, angel," he scolded her. "I know that he's had some issues. Some slip-ups. But he can turn around, like his mother did."

"I am a burnout, who is just trying to make her way with a guitar store and a dead music career..."

"Karen, you are NOT a burnout. WHAT do I need to do to convince you of that?" he asked, hugging her tightly. "You are the most beautiful woman I've ever met in my life, bar none. You always have been."

"Back in 1984 I seemed to have it all, a husband... and a son, and a Hollywood career... but it all just went sour..." she sighed.

"And maybe part of that is the 20 year old in me talking, but damn, you are a sight."

"I never told you..." she whispered. "About how Ray found me with sleeping pills..."

"No...."

"It was 1988... While I was still drinking heavily."

"Crap, Karen, you have to promise me you are done with this shit."

"I am," she said. "Ask Ray."

"For Elliott's sake. You can't leave him here."

"And....for my sake."

Again she cried a fresh crop of tears, staining his shirt, "I... just... oh god Stan... where did I go wrong?"

He gave her a light kiss on the cheek, "Honey, it's over now..."

"All those years hating you... it was like some ritual... I guess it kept me going... that and Elliot. And now... I see what a mess my life was.... For so long."

Paul chuckled, "You know, he is most likely champing at the bit right now. All you can do is continue on your course. Sounds like your shop is doing great. And a reunion tour. That could be BIG."

"I know... And....we need to work on getting along. I'm 48 Paul..." she sighed.

"I don't know if I can start again... with a music career..."

"And....I'm older than you," he reminded her.

"You don't look almost 51," she said, stroking his cheek. "Besides... maybe some day you could tour with us. I could be your BOSS. Wouldn't that be fun?" he grinned at her mischievously.

"God forbid," she sobbed, joking weakly. "You're a pain in the ass to work with, Stanley Harvey Eisen..."

"Harvey," he said as he cringed. "Besides...you have to meet Evan."

"Oh Hun, be real. What could he possibly want with an old flame of his dad's?"

He smiled at her, "Remember how you used to say you wanted to give Elliott the middle name of Harvey?"

She laughed, "I wanted to name him Stanley Jr."

"And I told you, over my dead body," he laughed. She wiped away a tear, and sees the smudges of her makeup on his T-shirt.

"You know what I wish?" he said, hugging her tightly.

"What, Hon?" she asked.

"I wish for one night, we could have it all back."

"Stanley, this isn't a fairy tale, it's real life," she sighed.

"I KNOW, but wouldn't it be awesome to make love one more time, close your eyes and pretend it's on a mattress on the floor in that drafty old apartment? Just to have that back again."

"It's been so long," she whispered. "Since I let myself feel that way about you. Before things got so complicated."

"Back when I was the only man who'd seen you nude," he smiled. She took his face in her hands, leaning forwards to kiss him.

"And I was the only person in the world who truly loved you," he moaned into the kiss. Karen seized his hair and kissed him hard. He kissed her back, with passion. After the kiss he pulled away and blushed slightly, looking around.

"That was nice," she whispered.

"Yes... yes, it was."

"Nobody's kissed me like that for a long time."

"Glad to hear it," he winked. "I... uh...there's a nice hotel not far from here."

"Shall we get out of here?" she asked.

"Mmmmmhmmmm, let me just grab my sandwich, and we're gone."

"All right," she nodded. The waiter brought their food, and Paul whispered for him to have it wrapped.

Getting up, Paul took Karen's coat and handed it to her, helping her into it. He shrugged his on as well, taking her hand and leading her up to the counter. The waiter walked up with a white paper bag filled with the sandwiches, and Paul asked, "Can you get us some of those fudge brownies?"

"Sure," the waiter nodded.

Paul fumbled for his wallet, but the young host held up his hand, "Sir, the meals on us..."

"I appreciate it," Paul smiled and shook the kid's hand.

"Sure, have a good night Mr. and Mrs. Eisen," he nodded. As he turned away, Paul slipped some money under the mat and nodded to Karen with a wink. He walked her quickly out the door.

"I ALWAYS get the last word" he chuckles quietly to Karen as they walked out to her car. "There's actually a few nice hotels around. Do you have a preference?"

As he leaves, Paul takes the money back out and slides it under the napkin holder. He winks at Karen.

"Let's drive by my store," she said. "I want you to see it."

"I want to see it," he nodded, opening the car door for her. She whispered the directions to him when he climbed in and started the engine.

***

Karen directed him to a neighborhood not too far away. She pointed to the Qwik Dry cleaner's store, and said, "It's next to the cleaners..."

He follows her directions, holding her hand in his, glad for the car to be an automatic, although he loved the control a standard gave him. The sign came into view, and he gasped when he lay eyes on it. Paul parked in the spot right before it, getting out of the car in shock.

"EISEN?" he gaped, looking at her in shock.

"I guess I never changed the name," she said. "I mean I was married to that jerk, but after we divorced I changed it back."

"My lawyer said you DID. Holy crap!" he gasped. "I can't believe my parents didn't TELL me."

"I never had much use for my name after my parents disowned me," she shrugged.

"And your parents were always so kind to me... even after the blowup."

He leaned down and hugged her impulsively, "You DID keep something of me after all."

"I did. I liked the last name," Karen shrugged cutely. He smiles broadly at her and motions for her to unlock the metal grating protecting the front of the store.

"Well, now I can't WAIT to see the place," he said, rubbing his hands together. She pulled out her keys and unlocked the metal pulldown grating. Paul helped her to push it up enough for her to unlock the front door. The grating clanged down after they entered the store with a definitive clang.

Ray led Gene out to the main parking lot, wrapped in her sturdy leather duster coat, Gene in his wool coat. She brought him to her dodge Dakota sport, a good-sized small truck that was covered in

shiny red paint. Opening the passenger door for him, she then crawled around to the driver's side only to have Gene help her up into it before he went around to the passenger side again.

"You didn't have to," she winked.

"I did," he smiled, closing the door and reaching for his seat belt. Ray started the engine, and turned on the stereo. Gene smiled as she clipped her belt into place, and checked to make sure his was securely buckled. Then he placed his paper bag at his feet, and they waited for the truck engine to warm up a bit before they left.

Impulsively he seized her shoulder and turned her around, to plant a soft kiss on her full lips. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. Ray sighed and leaned into the kiss, putting her hand on

his leg. They pulled back breathless, eyes dark with passion. She breathed, "I think we'd better get going, don't' you? Or else..."

"Or else we'll have to continue here," Gene winked. "So, shall we find a hotel?"

"I'm taking you to my place," she said. "We don't' want any interruptions do we?"

"Not at all," Gene nodded. Ray threw the truck into reverse, and pulled out of the space. They soon headed onto the main street, passing the Pussycat Club and then eventually passing the 24-hour diner on their way out of the neighborhood.

"Where is your place?" Gene asked. "You still have that apartment?"

"In another part of Queens," she nodded. "But I've rented that out to a student. Right now I'm living in my parents old home... they moved to a retirement community in upstate New York..."

"OH," Gene laughed.

"Yes, Mt. Kisco. I've moved into my childhood home. Go figure..."

"Holy crap, that's ironic," Gene grinned. "How long have you been staying there? I'm sorry if I'm a bit out of touch..."

"I've had this home for some time. I just used the apartment for being closer to school during the week. But on the weekends I stay here..."

Within a half-hour, they had pulled into her old neighborhood. Gene was astonished to see it still in reasonably good shape after the thirty odd years since he last remembered coming here. It seemed

like another era, back in the late sixties and early seventies when he had first known Ray.

"Shit, hasn't changed all that much..."

"Not at all. It had been run down, but they have renovated some blocks..." Ray said, pulling up to the three story rowhouse, and parking in the alley beside the home. She stopped the truck, and pulled the break. Gene climbed out first, and rushed around to open the door for her, and help her down. Although she didn't need his help she let him and they stood on the freshly fallen snow. He took his bag of clothes, following Ray who led him by the hand to the front porch, and stopped as she unlocked the two deadbolts. He admired the beveled glass in the front door, waiting for her to open it up and admit him into a place he had not entered for three decades. Not since the fateful day when he'd first seen her home, and they had sneaked back to her place for a change of clothes after their first night of making love.

"Damn," Gene whispered, entering the dark place. Ray closed the door behind them and turned on the light. He stood in the entrance way, a door to his left and the stairs leading upwards to the second floor.

She reached out to Gene, asking, "I'll take your coat and hang it up here in the closet... and do you want anything... coffee... tea?"

Gene handed her his coat, and she turned to hang it up next to hers. When she turned around, Gene slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her close. She breathed deeply as he leaned down and seized

her in a hungry kiss. His hands moved down to caress her backside and pull her hips to meet his. Ray's arms twined round Gene's neck, and he let the bag of his clothes fall down at their feet. She buried her fingers in his hair, moaning as his tongue parted her lips and teased hers.

"I missed that," Gene whispered deeply as they parted again for breath.

"So did I... so what do you think of this... kissing in my parent's house?"

"Wouldn't have gotten away with it years ago, would we?" Gene asked her, smiling as he caressed her short auburn hair.

"No..."

"Take me on a tour?" he asked. "I'd like to see some of the antiquities... especially the bedroom..."

"You rogue," she laughed.

"I think I can find the way," he said, leaning down and suddenly sweeping her off her feet. She squawked playfully in protest, as Gene held her off her feet and started up the stairs.

"You waste no time, do you?" she laughed.

"Not at all..." he smiled. "Second door on the left?"

"That's Jeannie's room now," she laughed. "I've got the master bedroom..."

Gene kicked the door open, and breathed deeply when he saw the large queen sized bed, neatly made up with a knitted lace quilt. IT looked exactly as he remembered seeing it, the furniture and everything.

"Didn't they want their furniture?"

"They had no room for it at the retirement community," she winked. "They wanted me to have it..."

Gene reverently placed her on the center of the bed, and sat down next to her, resting a hand by her hip and planting his other at her other hip as he swung his leg over to straddle her. He glanced at the antique furniture, carved and intricate like many pieces of European furniture. He had a taste for the finer things, honed by his life experience. IT must be worth a small fortune, he guessed. Strange how he'd never noticed the array of nice things her family had possessed before.

"I never realized how nice your folks had it," he said slowly. "All these antiques..."

"I left behind a lot," she blushed. "It took years to reconcile. But it was worth it... in the end..."

"To think I hated them on your behalf, for them standing by and letting Mark..."

"Shh," she whispered, silencing him with her hand on his lips. She kissed his hand softly, and Gene moved alongside of her to shed his blazer and pull off his shoes. The bed was generous sized, large

enough to hold them both comfortably. He took her feet and unlaced her doc martins, letting them drop on the floor as she pulled at the bottom of his sweatshirt. Underneath he had on an old T-shirt, and

she laughed when she saw it was for the Paul McCartney tour.

"Some kid is a Beatles fan," she winked.

"I know... it was whatever swag they had from former band members," he laughed. "These jeans are tight... mind helping me peel them off?"

"No tighter then your leather pants..." she winked, helping to unbuckle his belt and unzip his jeans. He did the same to hers, and they enjoyed themselves kissing and tugging off their clothes for one another. Gene pulled back the bedspread to reveal the flannel sheets underneath, and sighed as he climbed on top of ray, and pulled the covers over them both. It felt so comfortable and so safe, that he felt his mind slipping back in time to more uncomplicated times, far before the roller coaster ride had started. Soberly he wondered if this would have been his life if he had not taken the road to stardom. Would he have continued as a teacher or a writer/editor for some magazine? And would they have moved into a home like this one? Not likely, Gene thought. His life was always destined for greatness. Ray's climb to stardom was born of desperation to escape, and yet he could see why it was hard for her to leave the safety of this home and its comforts.

"Come here, big guy," she whispered, pulling him down into the sheets, and turning off the light. Gene obliged, claiming her lips with his own, and caressing her body in the darkness. Every contour he knew as if by heart, caressing her sweetly and tenderly as she did in return.

"Make love to me," she whispered. "Not as Gene Simmons... but as you were..."

"Anything to oblige, Ray," he whispered. He caressed her breasts softly with his lips and tongue, kissing down to her belly. She lifted her legs onto his shoulders, laying back and writhing in pleasure, as he tasted her sweetness. Once her first climax was achieved she moved down and returned the compliment. Both sighed in mutual satisfaction, and then moved onto the next step. Gene was about to turn her around and enter her from behind but she stopped him.

"I want to look in your eyes," she told him. Gene nodded, knowing he could easily see her eyes through the moonlight glinting off the snow's high white albedo, through the windows of the bedroom.

"Mmm," he sighed as he took her hips, and she guided herself onto him, already stiff and waiting for her. They joined in a passionate moment, moving quickly together as he set her on his lap, sitting upright in the bed. Exactly the same height and fused at the hips they began their intricate dance to the same goal, hands searching over each other's bare bodies. Gene knew he didn't have to hold back as Ray rode him hard and fast, and he returned each advance. Both lovers were attenuated to each other's needs and secret desires in a way that no other woman was with him or any man with her. For long ago he had introduced her to this world of carnal pleasure, and it delighted him to know she had given her childhood to him. He had made her a woman, and in many ways, she had helped make him the man he was today.

Gene groaned, biting into her neck as he felt himself climax far harder then he had in ages. Ray's loud cry stifled in his thick hair, her teeth biting down to bruise his neck as her nails dug into his back. He grimaced in sweet pain as her strong thighs and fingers tightened on his body, far stronger then many lovers he had ever had since.

"Damn," Gene sighed, resting his head on her shoulder. "That was... incredible... you haven't lost your touch love..."

"Nor you," she whispered. "I miss you... you know that?"

"I do too," he nodded, caught up in the moment. They both lay alongside each other, cuddling close and sharing their warmth and comfort. It felt so good, so safe here that Gene soon fell fast asleep in her arms. Ray stroked his hair thoughtfully as she cradled his head on her breast. They had not used protection, she knew, not like she would need it, considering she had just gone t through the change of life. Still in his arms making love, she felt young. Even beyond that, she had never felt her true age. For what was age when you had a life full of whatever you wanted, and being surrounded by your loved ones? Ray curled up in Gene's arms and fell fast asleep in the darkness of what had once been her parent's room. For a night she could pretend that she and Gene had always passed the night this way, as her parents had done. At last she was at peace with a tormented past, and felt her circle had completed in some odd way. Her last

thought as she drifted off was of Karen and Paul, hoping they could put rest to their troubled past like she and Gene had so long ago.