Cigarette Fairy, Part 5

This fictional account contains adult language and sexual themes.  If such
language and themes offend you, please do not read further.  The persons and
events described in this work are purely fictional.  Any similarity to actual
persons or events is strictly coincidental.  Copyright 2003 by SSTORYMAN.
All rights reserved.  Permission is hereby granted to reproduce this story in
any form and for any purpose as long as this notice is reproduced and no
financial remuneration is received, directly or indirectly, by the person
reproducing or using it.

THE CIGARETTE FAIRY

5.	Confrontation.

   Pamela felt totally preoccupied with smoking and those feelings weren't
diminishing.  If anything they grew more powerful with each new cigarette she
smoked.  God, she _had_ to tell her family.  She had no choice.  Before
leaving the restaurant she'd smoked both Marlboros the cigarette fairy left
in her purse.  Then at the restaurant's cigarette machine she bought herself
a pack of Marlboro Lights 100's.  She couldn't help it.  She had to.  It was
finally over.  Now she was back.  She was a smoker again, damn it!  She
opened her driver's side window and even had a couple more cigarettes driving
back to the office after lunch.  Then she sneaked out for another one
mid-afternoon.  There was no turning back now and she knew it.

   She trembled at the prospect of telling Mick and the two girls.  Would
they laugh at her or be totally horrified?  She wondered.  But one of them
wouldn't be horrified.  The cigarette fairy, whoever he or she was, would be
overjoyed.  She still suspected Mick first and foremost.  Despite his
protests of innocence he used to _love_ to see her smoke.  He must be the
cigarette fairy, she mused.  Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad telling Mick.  It
probably would be lots more fun in the bedroom once she was smoking again.
Yeah, in the old days nothing was better than the extraordinary sex she and
Mick shared when she used to smoke in bed for him ?.

   She left work early.  She couldn't get a thing done.  Nervously she lit up
a cigarette and smoked while driving home.  As she turned onto Morning Street
she tossed the butt out the car window as she approached her house.  No sign
of Taylor's car, or Mick's.  Mick usually picked up Candice from soccer on
his way home.  She'd be alone awhile.  That was good.  It'd give her some
time to compose herself before facing the proverbial firing squad!

   She went in through the garage and upstairs to change clothes.  She
smelled of stale smoke and didn't want the odor noticed till she was ready to
make her announcement.  As she pulled on a tee shirt and shorts she heard the
doorbell.  She ran downstairs to look out the window in the front door.  God,
it was Brooke Caldwell!

   That was weird.  She and Brooke barely spoke.  She couldn't imagine why
Brooke would come calling.  She smiled politely as she opened the door.
"Hello, Brooke," she said pleasantly.  "Nina and Ashleigh aren't here.  My
kids aren't either."

   "I didn't come for the girls," Brooke spat.  "I came to see you, Pamela.
Can I come in?"

   Surprised, Pamela smiled again.  "Yeah, sure," she said politely.  "Come
right on in."

   Brooke was agitated, upset.  Pamela cursed under her breath.  The last
thing she wanted to deal with at that moment was her unpleasant neighborhood
nemesis.  Showing Brooke into the living room she sat across from her.

   "Pamela, I'll get to the point.  We aren't friends, never have been.  You
don't like me and I don't much like you, either.  But I have a complaint and
instead of letting it eat me up I decided to get it off my chest in person."

   "Yeah, sure, okay.  What is it?"

   Brooke took a deep breath.  "Recently you forced Taylor to smoke a
cigarette to teach her a lesson.  It upset her, you know."  Pamela nodded.
"She complained to Ashleigh about how you treated her.  It was a stupid
stunt, unnecessary and not smart.  But that's beside the point.  I don't know
how it'll affect Taylor.  That's your problem, not mine.  However, for some
reason it sparked Ashleigh's interest in smoking.  She never smoked before.
But today I came home early only to find Ashleigh smoking in our house!  I
couldn't believe it.  It's your damn fault, Pamela.  If you hadn't pulled the
stupid stunt with Taylor, Ashleigh wouldn't have experimented with my
cigarettes."

   Pamela smiled smugly.  "Oh come on, Brooke.  You're pissed at me?  I mean,
God, you smoke.  So does your husband.  You've smoked as long as we've lived
on this street.  So how can you complain about your daughter following in
your footsteps?  That's ridiculous!"

   "Yeah, okay, some of it's the bad example Ken and I set for Ashleigh.  But
your stunt with Taylor was the last straw; it was the thing that did this to
Ashleigh.  So I hope you're happy.  Whatever you think of me because I smoke,
and I know you despise me because of it, you should know that you're the one
responsible for Ashleigh starting!"

   Pamela became defensive.  Without thinking she lashed back loudly at her
old nemesis.  "Listen, Brooke.  Smoking around your kids inevitably increases
the chance that they'll smoke someday like you do.  It's well known that
children of parents who smoke are much more likely to eventually smoke
themselves."

   Brooke was about to return the volley.  But all of a sudden Pamela looked
stricken.  Her face went white as a sheet.  She put her hand to her mouth.
She gasped.

   Brooke waited.  Her neighbor didn't breathe.  "Pamela, what's wrong?  Are
you okay?"  She feared it was some sort of seizure or something.  "You look
terrible!"

   "Oh God," Pamela finally gasped.  "Damn, I can't believe I said that.
Shit!  I never thought of that.  Oh shit," she repeated helplessly.

   "Thought of what?  What in the hell are you talking about?"

   "That thing I said about children of parents who smoke becoming smokers,"
she sputtered helplessly.  "God, I never thought of that till this minute!"

   "Hey, look, Pamela, I'm sorry.  You're right.  It's true.  I didn't mean
to suggest it was _all_ your fault.  My God, you look like you're gonna pass
out.  Maybe you should lie down or something."

   Pamela did look terrible.  The staircase was adjacent to the front door.
She stumbled over to it and sat on the steps.  "Oh shit," she muttered, still
white as a sheet.  "God, it's gonna happen to my girls now!"

   Brooke grew concerned.  Her original desire to hurt her neighbor
evaporated.  "I don't understand, Pamela.  God, are you okay?  You've got me
worried.  Can I get you something?"

   "I need a drink," Pamela gasped helplessly.  She tried to get up but lost
her balance and weakly sat back down.  "Shit," she repeated.  "Shit, shit,
shit!"

   Brooke ran to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator.  Inside was a six
pack of Bud Light.  She took a can, popped it open and carried it to Pamela.
"Here, honey.  This'll help."

   Pamela gulped desperately.  After three sips she wiped her mouth and shook
her head.  "Sorry, Brooke.  I didn't mean to fall apart.  It's not your
fault.  It's mine.  All mine.  Fuck!"

   "What on earth are you talking about?"

   Pamela sighed.  With another sip she came clean.  "I suppose Taylor told
you about our cigarette fairy?  I thought so.  But God, it's been so hard on
me, Brooke!  See, I used to smoke."  Surprise registered on her neighbor's
face, and Pamela laughed.  "Yeah, I did.  I smoked a lot, Brooke.  Just like
you.  I managed to quit just before Taylor was born.  But I knew I'd be in
deep shit if I ever even dabbled with it again.  I wasn't someone who could
smoke socially.  Some girls smoke a few at a party and then don't smoke again
till the next weekend.  That was never me.  It's not you either, I bet.  I
always knew if I lit up another cigarette it'd be damn near impossible for me
not to relapse."  She groaned.  "Every day this week I found cigarettes in my
purse and car.  It's a long story but a couple days ago I gave in!  I smoked
'em.  Today I did something even worse.  I bought a pack for myself.  It's in
my purse.  I'm smoking, Brooke, God damn it.  Fuck!  I'm smoking!  This
afternoon I finally decided.  Tonight's the night.  I gotta tell Mick and the
girls.  That's why what I said about how parents' smoking affects their kids
so upset me.  I never thought it through.  But by smoking myself I'm probably
insuring that Taylor and Candice will smoke someday, too.  God!  Fuck!"

   Brooke was astonished; astonished but secretly pleased.  So her old
archenemy had feet of clay?  She couldn't help smiling.  "Pamela, you?
Smoking?  God, I never would've guessed!"

   "Yeah, well, me neither," she shot back.  "But you know how it happens.
You get stressed and you have to have one.  I couldn't help it.  At lunch
today I cracked.  I was upset and I dealt with it by smoking.  The floodgates
opened and I kept on going.  God, I can hardly stand it now.  I wish to God I
could have a cigarette right this minute.  Shit, it's so fuckin' pathetic!"

   The unexpected confession excited Brooke.  She hardly believed her good
fortune!  Pamela was distraught, on the edge.  Hearing her spout profanity
made it obvious.  Eagerly Brooke moved in to lower the boom on her nemesis.
"Pam, don't worry.  I totally understand."  She smiled with condescending
sweetness.  "You look like you need a cigarette and that's okay with me.  In
fact, let me join you.  I'll have one with you.  Or how about this?  No one's
home at my place.  Let's run over there.  We can have a cigarette and a
couple beers.  It'll calm you down before you talk to Mick and the girls.
What do you say?"

   Pamela sipped her Bud Light.  Her color was slowly coming back.  She
looked a bit better.  "God, Brooke, I can't believe I'm saying this, but
yeah, I'd like that.  Shit, it's so damn ironic!  The thing that upset me was
that I never thought how my relapse could affect my girls.  But the only way
I can deal with it is to smoke some more.  Damn!  It's unbelievable."

   Brooke was elated to hear Pamela admit a need for nicotine.  For years her
girls told her about Pamela Patterson's self-righteous anti-smoking bullshit.
Now her adversary was gonna break down and smoke!  God, she couldn't miss
this opportunity.  She had to make sure Pamela didn't escape.  "Let's go to
my house, Pamela.  We'll have a couple beers and you can smoke.  No one will
know.  Then, when you're good and ready you can come back home and tell your
family what happened.  Does that sound good?"

   Pamela slowly nodded.  The alcohol didn't clear her head.  It actually
clouded her judgment.  She already had lost the will to resist her renewed
cravings.  The danger of indulging her desire for a cigarette again under
stress never registered.  She'd be sealing her fate.  But she didn't realize
it.  All she could think of was having another delicious cigarette and
feeling better!

   Minutes later she and Brooke were sitting in the Caldwell family room.  In
wonder Brooke watched Pamela uncomfortably put a Marlboro Light 100 in her
trembling lips.  The tall attractive blond guiltily flashed a smile at her as
her neighbor raised a lighter for her and Brooke lit her up.  For Brooke
Caldwell the irony was too delicious for words!  Instinctively Pamela's
cheeks collapsed.  She dragged long and hard on the cigarette - _her_
cigarette!

   Secretly elated Brooke followed suit.  She lit up along with her and
released a thick stream of milky white smoke into the air.  The smoke of her
exhale mixed with Pamela's.

   "Good, isn't it?  Feel better now?"

   "Yeah, I do feel better," Pamela admitted with a reluctant smile.  She
dragged harder next time and without hesitation followed up the first drag
furiously and expertly double-pumping her cigarette, a maneuver that frankly
astonished Brooke.

   "I can't believe I'm doing this," Pamela finally groaned, obviously
embarrassed.  Residual smoke slowly dribbled out of her lips and nostrils
over her next several breaths.

   Brooke felt triumphant.  All her anger about Ashleigh smoking dissipated
in the exhilaration of seeing poor Pamela lose her self-righteousness and
fall prey to nicotine's power.  Brooke, too, hit hard on her cigarette.  It
tasted especially delicious to share a smoking moment with her longtime
neighborhood adversary.

   "Well, kid, looks like you're a smoker again," she observed wryly as
Pamela finished her beer.  "I'd say I'm sorry but I'd be lying if I did."

   Pamela tipped her head to release an endless exhale.  "Truth is, I don't
feel sorry either," she admitted.  "God, this is nice!  It feels so damn good
to smoke!"  She tapped her lengthening ash in an ashtray on the table by her
chair.  "Did you say I could have another beer?"

   Brooke nodded.  "Sure."  She got up to head to the refrigerator.  She
brought back two bottles of Miller Genuine Draft.  "Is this okay?"  Pamela
nodded and Brooke handed her one.

   Pamela took a big swig and chased it with a drag from her Marlboro.  "God,
I really shouldn't drink like this.  But smoking and drinking always relaxed
me back in the old days."  She pursed her lips to exhale.  "Thanks for
letting me do this, Brooke."

   "No problem," her neighbor chortled.  "It's my pleasure!"  

   That was true.  It _was_ her pleasure!  She was damned glad to have Pamela
Patterson smoking with her.  It was amazing; way cool!  As she thought about
Pamela and saw her revel in the experience of finally smoking again, Brooke
decided that perhaps she'd been too hard on poor Ashleigh.  She thoughtfully
hit hard on her cigarette.  Yeah, it wouldn't be so bad to let her daughter
smoke if she wanted to.  After all, she herself smoked at Ashley's age.
Brooke at once decided to make peace with Ashleigh about the smoking issue.
Ashleigh did say she wouldn't mind being just like her.  Brooke smiled.
Well, that would surely happen!  Meanwhile all her former enmity towards
Pamela had literally gone up in smoke.  Who knew?  Hell, they might even
become friends if Pamela really did start to smoke all the time.  So maybe
she should just accept the inevitable and let Ashleigh smoke, too.  Brooke
pursed her lips and released a long, thin stream.  Yeah, the more she thought
it sounded right.  Seeing her old enemy indulging so happily convinced her to
cut her poor daughter some slack and let her also smoke if she wanted!

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

   "Excuse me.  I have an announcement to make."

   Mick, Taylor and Candice all stared, clueless as to what was about to
transpire.

   Pamela pushed her chair back and officiously cleared her throat.  "One of
you is the cigarette fairy.  No one admits it but all week I've been finding
cigarettes in my purse."  She cleared her throat again.  To say she felt
uncomfortable was a gross understatement.  "So here's the deal.  I was having
a really shitty day at work.  Pardon my French," she said with a
self-conscious smile.  "I stopped at a little café to get a bite to eat and
try to calm down.  I was super stressed.  I opened my purse and found two
more Marlboro Lights 100's inside."  She paused.  "I don't know how to tell
you so I'll just say it.  I smoked 'em.  Both of them."  She stared at her
astonished family.

   Candice was the first to respond.  "You, Mom?  I don't believe it?  _You_
smoked?"

   "Yep, Candice," Pamela sighed.  "You all know I used to smoke before
Taylor was born.  I was always opposed to it because I knew first-hand how
insidious it is.  I also knew if I ever did it again I probably couldn't
easily quit again like I did before Taylor was born.  I was terrified I'd
totally relapse."  She took a deep breath and slowly let it out.  "That's
exactly what happened.  I smoked the cigarettes that one of you hid inside my
purse.  I couldn't help myself.  I had to do it.  But that's not all.  I
wasn't done.  You see, then I bought a whole pack and I smoked at work this
afternoon and some more before dinner.  I can't quit smoking, guys.  I'm
serious.  I have to keep doing it now.  I can't quit again.  I just can't!"

   The room was quiet while Pamela's words sank in.  Mick finally spoke.
"Pam, honey, it's okay with me.  You know I don't mind.  I honestly didn't do
the cigarette fairy thing.  But it's fine with me if you want to smoke again.
You know that, don't you?"

   "I know you don't mind, Mick.  You never did," Brooke bitterly barked.
"But when I do smoke I won't do it in the house.  I'll go to the back porch.
Even so, I _will_ be smoking.  I wanted to tell you myself when we were all
together.  I'm sorry," she sniffled.  Her voice quavered.  "There's just
nothing I can do.  I can't help it.  I'm too weak to resist, damn it."  Tears
began streaming down her sorrowful face.

   This time it was Taylor who could barely believe her good luck.  She hid
her delight as she moved to console her mother.  "Mom, don't cry," she said
with a compassionate whisper, coming to her side.  "It's okay.  We don't mind
so much.  Really, we don't.  Dad's cool with it I guess, and Candice and I
are certainly used to being around second-hand smoke from hanging out at the
Caldwells.  So it won't bother us if you smoke.  Right?"  She looked at her
younger sister who nodded on cue.  "Mom, you may think it's a big deal but
it's not.  Not to us."

   "But Taylor, just last week I forced you to smoke because I wanted it to
make you sick," Pamela bawled.  "And now look at me.  I'm doing the same
thing myself.  God, it's so pathetic!"

   "Shh, Mom, it's okay," Taylor said reassuringly, though she couldn't fully
suppress a little grin.  "You were only doing what you thought was right.
Actually I'm glad you did it."  But for reasons you can't even imagine, she
added silently.

   Taylor hugged her mom.  As she did she smelled a telltale odor of stale
tobacco smoke in her hair.  God, this'll work out fuckin' great, the 16 year
old sighed deviously, especially if eventually I can get Mom to smoke inside
the house and not just outdoors.  "Hey Mom," she suggested helpfully.  "Any
time Mrs. Caldwell gets upset she says she feels better if she has a
cigarette.  So do you want to smoke now?  Because it's okay.  Really.  Maybe
it'll help your nerves.  Plus you won't feel so self-conscious about it after
you let us see you do it once."

   Pamela sniffled and stopped crying.  "Taylor, I shouldn't.  I can't."  She
paused and smiled.  "But oh my God, that does sound nice; almost too nice.
You must be the cigarette fairy.  Tell me the truth.  Did you do this to me?"

   "Mom, honest Injun, no," Taylor said sincerely.  "God, I'm just trying to
be nice.  Excuse me for trying!"  She bitterly turned away.

   Pamela turned to her husband.  "Then it must be you, Mick," she groaned.
"You did this to me, didn't you?"

   He shook his head.  "Not me, honey.  Like I said I'll be delighted if you
do smoke.  But I didn't make this happen.  You may not believe me but it's
true.  This time I'm innocent."

   "Candice?"

   The younger Patterson girl rolled her eyes.  "Mom, get real!  Why on earth
do I care if you or Taylor or Dad or anyone else smokes?  For God's sake!
I'm not the cigarette fairy!"

   Pamela reached for a tissue and blew her nose as Taylor appeared with her
mom's purse.

   "Here, Mom, go ahead and have a cigarette.  Come on, just do it.  You know
you want to.  I know that and you do, too.  Sooner or later you have to smoke
around us.  You might as well get it out of the way.  Don't you think?"

   Pamela hesitated.  "Oh God, honey, I just don't know ?."

   Mick piped up.  "Look, Pam, Taylor's right.  It'll be uncomfortable till
you do it in front of us.  So get that out of the way.  If you only want to
smoke outside, that's fine.  But if you are gonna smoke from time to time
from now on then you may as well get this over with!"  He tried to hide his
delight.  He shared the same hope Taylor had about Pamela smoking inside the
house but for different reasons.

   The temptation was too strong to resist.  "Okay," Pamela sniffled.  She
took her purse from her daughter and got out her pack of Marlboro Lights
100's.  "God, I feel awful doing it.  But you're right, Mick.  I _am_ in
desperate need of another cigarette."  She scrunched her face.  "God, this is
why smoking is so terrible, girls.  Once you get started it's impossible to
control!"

   The entire family followed Pamela onto the back porch.  Mick wanted to see
his lovely wife smoke.  The girls were mostly curious.  Pamela
self-consciously put a Marlboro Light 100 in her mouth.  She looked at her
audience.  They stared back.  With a groan she clicked her lighter and
ignited the long one hundred millimeter cigarette hanging from her trembling
mouth.

   Instinct kicked in.  She dragged hard on her cigarette.  Her cheeks
hollowed.  Making a "v" with her fingers she took the cigarette from her
lips.  Her mouth opened as she removed it.  A large ball of white smoke was
seen being sucked into her chest.  The relief and pleasure reflected on
Pamela's face were unmistakable.  Involuntarily she closed her eyes and let
out a satisfied sigh.  The smoke in her body felt fuckin' wonderful!  Opening
her eyes again she self-consciously pursed her lips to release a long, thick
exhale.

   Mick was smiling.  "Now _that's_ the woman I married!  Smoking always made
you happy, honey.  It looks like that hasn't changed after all these years!"

   "You _do_ look awful happy, Mom," Taylor quickly chimed in.  "We don't
care if you smoke.  Really!  You like it.  Come on," she teased.  "You can't
hide that grin on your face!"

   "You must think I'm a damn hypocrite," Pamela mumbled, vainly trying to
ward off a pregnant smile creeping in at the corners of her mouth.  She
returned the cigarette to her lips for another drag.  "I gave you so much
grief about smoking last week, Taylor.  But now here I am, smoking a
cigarette myself!"

   Taylor watched her mom hit on it.  Her mother was actually smoking and she
clearly loved it, too!  The sight excited the pretty teen.  It was too good
to be true!  Okay, maybe smoking wasn't good for her mom, or for her, either.
But seeing her mother smoking like that nonetheless titillated her.  Taylor
was secretly thrilled.  She also felt jealous.  The fragrant aroma of the
second-hand smoke smelled delicious.  Suddenly the teenager wanted one, too!

   "Uh, I need to drive over to see my friend Bonnie," the 16 year old
suddenly announced.  "I, uh, I promised her I'd stop by tonight after
supper."  Without warning she leaned in to hug Pamela.  "Mom, I really don't
mind it.  I meant what I said.  I've spent enough time at the Caldwells over
the years to be quite used to the smell.  So if it makes you happy and it
makes Dad happy then I'm totally cool with it." The aroma of smoke made
Taylor's mouth water.  "But right now I gotta run."  And have a cigarette of
my own, she added silently.

   "Honey, thanks.  I was mean to you last week.  I'm sorry.  I shouldn't
have done it to you.  Just promise me you won't make the mistake I did.
Don't ever become a smoker.  Okay?"

   Taylor laughed a bit too confidently.  "Me, Mom?  Oh come on.  Get real."
She gave her mother a kiss on the cheek.  "I'll see you guys later."

   The 16 year old beauty shook her pretty blond head in amazement as she
walked through the house and out the front door.  She got into her car.  God,
it was amazing!  What good fortune!  If her mom really did relapse she'd soon
be smoking all the time again, just like she used to in the old days.  The
teenager guessed her mom would _never_ be able to make it smoking only
outside.  That meant eventually she herself might occasionally be able to
sneak cigarettes inside when her parents weren't around.  Taylor giggled.
Wait till she told Bonnie!

   The pretty teenager waited till she was a block away before finally
lighting up.  The taste and smell of her cigarette felt intoxicatingly
wonderful.  God, her mom was so right!  Once you start to smoke it soon
begins to feel totally uncontrollable.  But Taylor didn't mind.  She didn't
want control.  She wanted smoke.  And so smoke she did!

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

   Pamela knew her weakness well.  She had three more cigarettes that
evening, all on the back porch.  She felt terrible about it, like she failed
by giving in and continuing to indulge.  But it didn't matter.  She simply
had to do it.  Despite herself she enjoyed each additional cigarette,
notwithstanding her personal disappointment.  Meanwhile Mick kept quiet.  He
didn't mention the subject again that night.  He knew Pamela was conflicted
and purposely didn't want to weigh in with his support until he knew for sure
that her return to smoking would stick.

   Pamela vainly tried to regroup the next morning.  She didn't smoke before
she left for work and she intended not to smoke at the office either.  But
she couldn't make it.  Despite her best intentions she finally had to slip
out to smoke over lunch.  Over the course of the morning her cravings for
nicotine had grown so that they became totally uncontrollable.  It felt so
damn good to finally just give in and feed them smoke again!  Having smoke
deep in her lungs felt gloriously self-indulgent.  She consumed three
cigarettes over the lunch hour.  At mid-afternoon she sneaked out for two
more.  She realized it was no use resisting any longer.  So on her way home
late that afternoon she had two more during her 30 minute commute.  

   She opened her driver's window to smoke the first cigarette.  But as she
lit up the second one she impulsively decided to close the driver's side
window.  In the old days she never opened her car windows when she smoked
while driving.  She liked it.  She liked being inundated with the smell in
the thick smoky atmosphere.  Of course with all the windows shut tight the
smoke clung to her upholstery and made her car smell like an ashtray.  But
what the hell? she mused philosophically with a wry smile.  She liked the
smell.  And who was she kidding?  No way could she not smoke in her car.
There was no reason to pretend she wasn't a smoker anymore!!

   At dinner Pamela didn't bring it up.  Nor did anyone else.  After supper
the girls left to visit the Caldwells, leaving Pamela alone with Mick.  She
again felt that familiar, undeniable gnawing inside.  She wanted another
cigarette but felt awkward saying so.  Mick saw her playing with her fork
almost compulsively.  He came to her aid.

   "Honey, you look like you could use a cigarette.  Aren't you going to
smoke?  It's okay with me, you know.  I don't mind.  You want one, don't
you?"  He voiced a compassionate tone.

   Pamela sighed.  "Yeah, I do," she admitted sourly.  "God, right now I want
another cigarette _so_ bad!  It's pathetic.  I keep hoping maybe I can
control it.  Truth is, though, I just can't.  At work today I smoked both at
lunch and on a break this afternoon."  She looked down.  "Shit, I even smoked
in my car on the way home.  It's only an hour later but I'm frantic again.  I
can hardly stand it.  My body's screaming for another cigarette!"  She shook
her head in disgust.

   Mick smiled.  "Look, Pam, I really don't care if you smoke or not.  I
mean, I like seeing you smoke.  You know that.  I always have.  I will say,
though, it's no fun being around you if you're gonna be such a sourpuss.
Either smoke or don't.  I don't care.  But don't act so glum about it.  If
you want a cigarette just have one and don't apologize.  I hate seeing you
depressed."

   "It _is_ depressing.  Shit, I can't _not_ smoke.  I'm as hooked as ever,
Mick.  It's terrible.  How can I ignore it and be all upbeat and happy?"

   Sympathetically he took his wife's hand.  "Look, Pam honey, you love to
smoke.  We both know that.  It makes you happy.  It always has and probably
always will.  Smoking relaxes you.  So why not just give in?  Don't fight it
any longer.  I think you should simply let nicotine do its thing and just
enjoy it for a change.  It's not so bad.  Come on, what do you say?"

   "Yeah, you're right," Pamela whimpered.  "I know you're right; totally
right."  Getting up from the table she retrieved her purse.  With her pack of
Marlboro Lights 100's in hand she let out a sigh of resignation.  "There's
simply no point in fighting it, is there?"

   "That's my girl," Mick grinned.  "And here's my next suggestion.  Forget
about smoking only outside."  She began to object but he cut her off.  "We
both know that won't last.  It can't.  Before long you'll smoke here in the
house.  Why not admit it?  Stop inconveniencing yourself.  You don't have to
go outside on my account."

   "But the girls ?," Pamela began.

   "Taylor and Candice already told you they don't mind.  The girls spend so
much time at the Caldwells they're used to being around smoke.  No one cares
but you, honey.  So why make your life more difficult?"  Mick impudently took
the lighter from her and smiled at his brooding wife.  "Put a cigarette in
your mouth and let me light you up right here in the kitchen, Pammy."
Obediently she raised an unlit cigarette to her lips.  "That's my good girl,"
he went on with a grin, clicking the lighter and holding the dancing flame
out in front of her.  "Just give in!"

   Pamela caught the light and dragged hard on her cigarette.  Without a word
she sucked smoke down into her chest.

   "There now," Mick exclaimed triumphantly.  "Isn't that better?"

   Pamela finally released a never-ending exhale through her lips.  A sly
cynical smile was clearly tugging at both corners of her mouth.  "Yeah, it's
_much_ better," she finally acquiesced with a guilty smile.  "Thanks, honey."

   "You're very welcome," Mick answered sweetly, vainly struggling to hide
the growing erection inside his trousers.  "I just want you to live in the
real world, Pam.  If you're gonna smoke you know you'll eventually smoke in
here.  It may as well be sooner than later.  Right?"

   "I guess," she agreed, trimming her cigarette in a makeshift ashtray.  "So
tell me, Mick.  You really _are_ the cigarette fairy, aren't you?  Come on.
You can 'fess up now."

   "No, Pam, I'm serious.  I'm really not the cigarette fairy."

   "Don't be shy, babe," Pamela coaxed.  "I promise I won't dump on you.  I
honestly feel way too good smoking right now to be upset about it any longer.
So you can admit it."

   "I wish I was the culprit but I'm not.  I'm delighted the cigarette fairy
visited you, honey, but it wasn't me.  Truly."  He shrugged.  "It must have
been Taylor; or Candice."

   Pamela finished another long drag.  "But why in the hell would either of
our girls want to make me smoke again?  That makes no sense."

   "I don't know.  The only thing I can think of is maybe Taylor did it
because she was pissed that you made her smoke.  That's the only thing that
makes sense to me."

   Pamela brooded.  "So you swear it's not you, Mick?"

   "Yeah, I swear," he smiled back.  "But I love finally seeing you smoke,
Pam baby.  You look incredibly sexy handling a cigarette again after all
these years.  God, every time I see it, it makes me want to get you right
into bed, to tell you the truth."

   Pam had to smile.  "Yeah, I can tell."  She nodded at the tent-shaped
bulge in his pants.  She de-ashed and purposely took another long drag.
"Well, Mick, that can be arranged."  She paused to exhale.  She had an evil
glint in her eye.  "Getting into bed, I mean.  The girls are both gone.
Maybe we should run upstairs and do the dirty real quick.  What do you say?"

   "Will you bring your cigarettes?" he asked eagerly.

   She smiled again.  "I suppose so.  Right this minute smoking isn't the
only thing that'd make me feel really good!"  She paused.  "So you actually
want me to smoke in our bedroom?"

   Mick nodded vigorously.  "Absolutely.  Just like the old days, Pam."

   Pamela put her half-smoked cigarette in the corner of her mouth.  She
picked up her pack and lighter.  "Then let's go, you horny bastard," she
laughed wickedly.  "If I'm gonna smoke, and obviously I can't help it
anymore, then I may as well get the maximum benefits from my damn
backsliding.  Don't you agree?"

   Careful not to disturb her dangling cigarette, Mick gingerly kissed her on
the other side of her mouth.  A smoky aroma permeated her breath.  It made
his cock rock hard.  "I definitely agree, honey," he agreed breathlessly.
"God, I want you!"

   Pamela laughed.  "I haven't seen you this excited in a long, long time,
Mick.  God, maybe my starting to smoke again is gonna have a silver lining
after all."  And she led him up the stairs into their bedroom.

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