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Date Posted: 17:28:20 04/26/09 Sun
Author: .
Subject:

Silent Lucidity

Disclaimer: JAG and its characters belong to Bellisarius Productions. No copyright infringement is intended.

Word Count: 2,700

Rating: mild

Prompt: From Up Close and Personal, submitted by Mouse:

Tally: �Why didn�t we do this before?�
Warren: �Because it was always gonna be this hard to stop.�

AN: Takes place a few days after Season 9�s Christmas episode, A Merry Little Christmas.

And I borrowed the title (only the title!) from a song by Queensryche, because it is very fitting. The song does not, however, have any relation to the scene whatsoever.

* * * * * *

I reach out, extend my hand to her. See her hesitate, a mere second or two. Her eyes drop, brush across my outstretched palm. Then travel back up my torso, back up to me. My eyes hold on to hers. There are doubts in hers, questions never answered, wants never spoken out loud, hopes never realized. I�m not offended at her hesitation. I understand it. So much has happened. And my heart aches with all the pain she had to go through. With all the mistakes I�ve made. But no more, I swear to myself. From now on I will listen to what her eyes tell me.

She sees it too, or I hope she does when she takes a step forward. Closer to me. And slides her fingers across my palm. I wonder how she can radiate such warmth and yet her fingers are always cool to the touch. I close my hand around hers and pull her closer. For this won�t work if she isn�t close to me. Though what in my life has ever worked when she wasn�t close to me?

The movements are natural, deeply ingrained, and yet take on a whole new meaning when it�s us. My other arm slides along her lower back. My skin tingles from the caress of her thin soft sweater and the warmth of her body underneath. Her scent is drawing me closer. It has always fascinated me, some mythical flower, simultaneously sweet and fresh, and I want to bury my face in her neck and stay there for the rest of my life. I feel my heartbeat speed up when she rests her right arm on mine, with her hand on my shoulder. Her fingers curling inward, digging into my skin, holding on.

The music precipitates every step we take, every movement we make. I draw her closer with the soft piano sounds, hold on tighter with the haunting voice of the singer. I have almost forgotten that this wasn�t supposed to be for us, and I try to concentrate on what I�m doing, I try to speak, to explain. But I look at her, and her beautiful brown eyes are looking up at me, full of trust and warmth. And her beauty is captivating. And her body, her warmth, so close to me. And words fail me.

* * * * * *

He radiates warmth. Exudes a quiet comfort that I crave. That I�ve been searching for my whole life, unacknowledged though it remained.

I curl my hand against his shoulder. I feel the heat of his skin through his shirt and seep into my hands. Feel his muscles bunch under my fingertips. Such quiet, unassuming strength. I want to fall against it, let it capture me, wrap me in a cocoon of safety. My fingers clench at the thought, digging into his skin. My heart hammers in my chest, skips, hops. I can barely breathe. The realization is all encompassing. I just want him.

His response is immediate, his arm tightening around my waist, pulling me closer. And I drift, sway toward him. Trust him.

My hesitation when he reached for me was short-lived. Born more out of habit than any true discomfort with him. For I realized, I�ve let down all my barriers, exposed my soul, my dream, to an entire courtroom full of people just the other day. And to him. Now all that�s left to do is trust. Trust that he understands. Trust that he wants the same thing. Trust in him. Trust in myself too, something I haven�t done in a long time.

And in his eyes, I found the strength to move forward. To slide into his waiting arms.

They hold me captive. His eyes that over the years, I have seen shining with a myriad of expressions and emotions. I can�t look away. I don�t want to. I want to revel in what I see there. What I realize has always been there. I can�t believe I have missed it.

I hold his eyes with mine, and have trouble breathing. He�s the most beautiful man I have ever seen.

The rhythm that guides us is slow. Aching. My feet move of their own volition, following his direction. Following the floating notes of the music I barely notice. There�s sadness in the haunting voice of the singer, but hope in her words. I am captured by the melody that is throbbing and erotic and desperate. It mingles with his warmth enveloping me. His strength holding me. His scent surrounding me, musky and distinctly male, and so very much him. And still he is looking at me. I am flooded by a rush of heat that flushes my cheeks and sends a swarm of butterflies in my belly. All my feelings for him that I have kept hidden for so long culminating in this tidal wave of love washing through me. My knees buckle.

And he�s there to catch me. Like he always has when I was falling. His strong arm around me pulls me closer, obliterating all space between us. Clasps me tightly against his body. With a sigh, I sink toward his chest.

�Oh baby,� he murmurs against my hair, a sound full of both desperation and relief. While he tightens his hold on me once more. It makes me smile with happiness. Such simple, sweet perfection.

He cradles me in his arms, and I nestle my face in the crook of his neck. A space I will forever consider mine. I listen to his heartbeat hammering in his chest. Even feel it thrumming against my cheek that rests on his pulse point. It is fast and erratic. Excited. Matching mine.

* * * * * *

Wow! I don�t think I can breathe. This is totally awesome! I mean, you read about this kind of thing in movies or romance novels, and you think to yourself that this is a really sweet story, but no way does it exist in real life. Yet here I am looking right at it. This has got to be it. The real thing. True love.
�
I wish I could take credit for some good match-making, but this has all happened by accident. All I wanted were some dance lessons. To not feel like a total dork at next week�s �Celebrate the New Year� dance at school. It�s bad enough that I�ll stick out as the new girl, the least I want is to not look like an idiot if a guy asks me to dance. So I asked Harm, and cool guy that he is, he put on some slow music after dinner and tried to teach me. Can�t say that it went too well. I think I have two left feet or something. His poor toes must be so sore. What can I say, I do sports, I�m not a dancer! Anyway, so here I am, concentrating on my feet, when there�s a knock on the door. It was Mac.
�
I gotta admit, I wanted to hate her at first, I really did. I�m not stupid, it wasn�t hard to figure out from the way he acted, that someone he loved had really hurt him. I was angry for him; he�s such an awesome guy and I really hated whoever did it. And when that courtroom door opened and Mac entered, I felt him tense up next to me and I knew it was her. I could tell he was afraid, and I knew she could ruin everything.� ��
�
But then she started speaking and I got it. She sounded so sad and lonely, and she outright said that he�s the man she wanted kids with.� Couldn�t be more obvious that she loves him, if you ask me! And then she came through for me, someone she doesn�t even know, and spoke to my dad and made sure I could come live with Harm. She didn�t have to do that, but she did because she cares about Harm, and I guess about me. Harm must have gotten it as well, or they made some sort of peace, because this isn�t the first time she�s been over to visit. She came by just the other night, right after I�d moved in with Jen. Had dinner with me and Harm, and we all just talked and had fun and then she left. Like friends do. I tried pumping Jen for more information on the two of them, but she didn�t know either, or isn�t telling me more.�
�
So we explained about the dance lessons, and then I asked them to show me what it�s all about. I can watch what Mac is doing, how it looks when they dance together, and they can explain better what the steps are.
�
It felt a little awkward at first, like they didn�t know what to do. Then Harm held out his hand, and they looked at each other � and that�s pretty much when they forgot I was even around. She is practically melting into his arms, he�s holding her close, and they only have eyes for each other. I guess they�re still dancing. Sort of. I mean, feet are still moving, just a little. I have to grin � I don�t believe this is the kind of slow dancing Harm would be okay with if I was doing it at the school dance!
�
I think it�s time for me to leave them alone. I scribble a quick note on a piece of paper, wishing him a Good Night and to have fun (I add a winky smiley face to that), leave it on the table, and quietly head for my own place. I�ve seen what it�s about, what it looks like when everything is just right. But as for actual dancing and learning the steps, I might be better off just asking Jen.

* * * * * *

Are my feet still moving? I am no longer sure. She is so close to me, all warm curves and soft skin. Molded against my body, and I can�t think. I can never form a clear thought when she�s touching me. Just having her near makes me tongue-tied, but when she touches me� I hold her tight in my arms, ever closer, and it�s not close enough. It never is.

I let go of her hand, slide my arm along her shoulders instead. Cradling her in my arms. My fingers feel the heat, the softness of the skin of her neck. There is no resisting her. I no longer want to. I trail my fingertips along her spine, up her neck, through her hair. Softly hold her head against my chest, hoping she will never again want to leave this place.

She sighs, barely audible but I can feel it. Feel the achingly deep breath leave her chest, and the raspy low timbre of her voice accompanying it. Feel my reaction to it all the way down to my feet. Heat blazes through me, a thick, flowing rush of need and want and love. And I let myself sink, into this dance and against her. Rest my cheek on top of her head, where I can smell her so much more intensely. I crave her scent, always want more.

I always want more. How will I ever be able to stop holding her again? How did I survive not holding her like this for all these years?

�Why didn�t we do this before?�

* * * * * *

His arms hold me tighter when he asks that question. I don�t think he meant to, nor that he meant to ask. His voice is low and raspy. Sexy. It races through my bloodstream and makes my skin tingle. Still we are dancing. My feet follow his steps and the pace he�s setting. As naturally as if we�ve done this before a thousand times. My body sways with him, wrapped in his embrace.

Why didn�t we? What was holding us back, what were we fearing? The truth is, on the deepest, most hidden level, I just don�t know. Don�t understand why we can�t make it work, why we�ve let fate decide our futures. I only know that I have no idea how to let go again.

�Because it was always gonna be this hard to stop.�

That does make him stop. Suddenly we are standing still and I would�ve stumbled were he not holding me in his arms. He�s tense now, even holding his breath. Damn it, why do we always ruin our moments by talking? I lift my head off his chest, look up at him. I need to see his eyes. And when I do, it�s taking my breath away once more. They have always been windows to his emotions and apparently, I never looked properly. Well I�m looking now. He�s serious. But earnest. And trusting.

�Is there a reason to stop?� He asks. And I know that neither one of us is talking about dancing. He needs to have an answer. Needs to know where my heart is. If he had listening to what I was saying before, he would know where my heart has always been. And that Webb was never an issue. But consciously or unwittingly, I gave him the wrong impressions. I understand about the need to know. This is an important one. And I know without a doubt, that now he is ready to listen.

I hold his eyes with mine. Make sure I have his attention. That he sees what I�m saying. And slowly, deliberately, I shake my head. No more words. I don�t want them to interrupt the silent clarity of this moment.

Still he is looking at me seriously � and then it appears. His smile. Blossoming across his face slowly, with all the realizations and certainties manifesting in his mind and his heart. I sigh with relief. He understood my answer. �No, I am not dating Clay.� And he understood so much more.

I can feel the tension bleeding from his muscles, followed by a rush of relief. Everything about him is beautiful. The soft smile on his face and the warmth of his eyes. The love he expresses simply by the way he touches me, so tender and affectionate. And I can no longer take it.

I wrap my arms around his neck, cling to him with every fiber of my being. I have been loving him, aching for him, every single second for so long that to get it now feels almost unreal. I am his, and he is mine. This is so big, so all encompassing that all I can do is hang on to him. Hold him tight to make sure that it�s real.

He cradles me against his body, so close I can barely breathe but I don�t care. I just want him. I feel like I�m floating and it takes me a while to realize that I actually am, that he picked me up and is wrapping me against him. With every gorgeous part of his body fitting against mine perfectly. My heart thumps loudly, and I can feel his heartbeat thrumming against his chest. Beating in syncopation with mine. We were made for each other, and the comprehension is making me weepy.

�Don�t let me go. Please don�t ever let me go again.�

�I won�t, Baby,� he says, whispering the words against the skin of my neck. �I promise I won�t.�

The End

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Replies:

[> Brilliant! -- BZB, 17:57:50 04/26/09 Sun [1]

Sigh. Such breathtaking skillfully strung words... could practically feel my heart beating to the cadence of the story.

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[> Absolutely wonderful -- - - - ! ! !, 18:26:05 04/26/09 Sun [1]

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[> Lovely. -- BlueJay, 18:48:35 04/26/09 Sun [1]

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[> What a great portrayal of their emotions! -- . . . - - - . . ., 18:54:32 04/26/09 Sun [1]

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[> Wow, I almost felt like I was there. Not that they would have noticed!! Maybe after the ficathon is over, and the authors revealed, we can get an epilogue where they realize that their student has left the room!! Just an idea. -- bama, 19:08:06 04/26/09 Sun [1]

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[> Wow! -- loti, 19:52:38 04/26/09 Sun [1]

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[> Beautiful. -- kate, 20:48:23 04/26/09 Sun [1]

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[> I can "hear" the music, I can "see" their wordless conversation, I am that 'fly on the wall' ....and I never want the music to stop. -- admiring the skillful writing, 21:05:12 04/26/09 Sun [1]

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[> I didn't realize I was holding my breath until my face was blue by the end. Awesome! -- ---, 22:34:06 04/26/09 Sun [1]

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[> I ditto that awesome! -- someotherauthor, 00:16:47 04/27/09 Mon [1]

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[> Mind blowing...great writing. I second the motion for an epilogue. -- JagfanNat, 02:34:55 04/27/09 Mon [1]

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[> The passion was palpable -- great writing! -- mj, 04:21:11 04/27/09 Mon [1]

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[> This is so good, I am feeling the music right now and I like this dance more than the gorilla was keeping them dancing. -- GRa waving from Argentina, 08:24:44 04/27/09 Mon [1]

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[> Loving this! -- Jill, 09:57:38 04/27/09 Mon [1]

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[> Thank you. Nicely done. -- Mouse, 14:18:26 04/27/09 Mon [1]

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[> Wow this is breathtaking well done and from my favourite film as well. -- Bev uk, 14:42:54 04/27/09 Mon [1]

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[> Mmmmm...nice! Warm, gentle, passionate. Great story! -- SammiSue, 17:28:44 04/27/09 Mon [1]

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[> Oh my...that was breathtaking. Definitely a new favorite. -- Ella, 18:20:09 04/27/09 Mon [1]

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[> Awesome!!!! -- Sunset, 21:01:04 04/27/09 Mon [1]

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[> This was wonderful! I wonder when they realized she was gone. lol -- JAG Junkie (Ronda), 00:06:37 04/28/09 Tue [1]

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