The doorbell rang and Dara slowly got up and answered the door.

"Hello," Sonny said cheerfully.

"Hello.  Come in," she greeted with minimum enthusiasm.

Sonny looked her up and down.

"When was the last time you were out of those pajamas?"

"Sonny- -"

"Dara," he said, in the same tone.  "Go take a shower, put on some clean pajamas, while I warm the chicken soup."

"Chicken soup?  But Iím not sick."

"Youíve never had chicken soup for the sake of having it?"  Sonny asked, shaking his head.

Dara shook her head.

"Then counselor, you donít know what youíre missing, but youíve got my special recipe to taste so youíre very fortunate.  Now go," Sonny said, shooing her out the room.

Sonny was right.  She felt refreshed now that she was in her new silk pajamas and rope, her hair was freshly washed and combed.

"Dara, dinner is ready."

With a final glance at herself in the mirror, Dara headed for the living room.

He had lit candles on the coffee table and the smooth sounds of the Whispers playing on the stereo.

"Have a seat," he said, setting two bowls of soup on the table, "I thought we could have a relaxing dinner in here."

Sitting next to each other, they enjoyed their meal with the music accompanying their silence.

"Sonny that was delicious.  Thank you," Dara said, putting her twice filled empty bowl on the table.

"Youíre welcome.  Now come here," he commanded, gently with his arms wide open.

Diving into his arms, feeling his arms wrapped around her allowed her to let go.  All the hurt and pain flowed freely from her.  Sonny caressed Daraís hair and crooned softly to her.

"Sonny, I miss him so much.  I sleep in his bed with his pillow underneath my head.  I knew it was going to be hard when Brenda came back, but not this hard.  How do people do this?  How do foster parents do this?"

"I donít know sweetheart.  I donít know."  Kissing the top of her head, he continued.  "He tells me, he sees you every Friday."

Dara nodded.  "I love it.  I love picking him up, playing with him, and having dinner with him, but it kills me to take him back to Brenda and then to come home to a place as silent and cold as a morgue."

"I know.  Stone keeps asking me why Iím staying in the little house instead of the big one."

"Youíre staying in your guest house?"

"Yes, and with Michael and Nia with Carly, Kristina with Alexis, and Stone next door with the Quartermaines, youíre right the house feels like a tomb."

Sonny pulled Dara into his lap.  Dara nuzzled his neck and played with his hair as he massaged her back as the soulful music helped soothe their hurting hearts. She moaned as Sonnyís fingers worked their magic over her back and neck.  He had her moving every which a way following his movement.  He paused for a moment, laid his cheek against her face and groaned.

"Dara, youíve got to stop moving, baby."

She felt the evidence of his desire beneath her.  She pulled back and leaned forward until their foreheads were touching.  Looking into his eyes, Dara asked, "Are you doing this because you feel sorry for me?"

"Are you doing this to make me feel better?"

"No," she whispered, against his lips.

"No," he countered and then devoured her mouth in a hot, hungry kiss that demanded all of her and then more.

She pulled his head closer, but it wasnít close enough.  She wanted to be inside his skin.

Sonny grunted as her movements began again.  "Dara," he cried out.

A feminine thrill ran through her body at hearing him cry out her name.  Feeling his cool hands on her back with no barrier in between them had her body on fire. She needed more.

Suddenly the Macarena started playing.

Planting wet kisses along his jaw, she asked, "Stone's choice?"

"Mmm, Michael."

Then as abruptly as it started, it ended, then instantly started again.

"Donít answer it," she begged, as she unbuttoned his shirt.

"Itís Jason."  He kissed her passionately then grabbed the cell phone out of his pocket.  "What?" he growled, as Dara sprinkled kisses down his chest.  His fingers slowly became entangled in her hair.

"You need to come home," Jason said concisely.

Sonny closed his cell and raised Daraís head.  "Iíve gotta go."

"What?!" she said outraged.  Slowly a bit of lust cleared her mind and she remembered who had been on the other end of the phone.  "Be safe."

"Always."  He gradually removed her from his lap, gave her one last lingering kiss, and then walked out the door.

Dara collapsed on the sofa.  "Damn you, Jason," she muttered, as her body ached at the loss of Sonny and their unfulfilled passion.