A/N: I don't know what to think of this one. It's one that wrote itself on my ipod using my thumbs late Thursday night. It's a very different perspective so keep an open mind please. And if you think it wasn't too weird please leave a review. Or even if it was. Constructive criticism is always welcomed. It's H/R fluff though there is no dialogue nor mention of their names. Set just before S9 and throughout to just after S9. I hope it makes sense.

It Gleams

The finely cut diamond gleams brightly beneath the lights.
All the other diamonds are shiny and bright but this one is special,
so veryspecial.
The man stares down at it, a big finger pressing against the glass.
It is taken out of its holding cell and held delicately between strong fingers.
It has been like this before, the inspection, the cleaning,
the whole process numerous times, but this time is different.
This time it is taken out, cleansed, polished and inspected.
And instead of being placed back in
glass box, slid onto a velvety ivory cylinder with the rest of
them, this time it is placed in a black velvet box, inside a bag.
This is it.
Its time has finally arrived.
This is what it was created for.

The box opens after a long while of being in the dark.
Missing light and the chance to sparkle it gleams just as it is meant to.
Seeking out the dim light that is present, hoping there will be brighter
lights, a walk in the park can bring on a sunny day.
Or perhaps a well lit room could offer.
It sits there opened on a surface the man looking at it,
gently smoothing it between his fingers.
The warmth.
A light is turned on and it has the chance to shine just for him.
It sparkles in his eyes and it knows it's beautiful.
A smile is formed on the man's face as well as a tear.
Just the reaction it wanted to give.
The finger prints are removed from the band with a soft cloth and it is gently
placed back in its temporary home.
The man still stares.
The diamond still gleams.
The box is shut.
It waits.

Opened once more; much too long of a time later.
It is more frequent now.
Open and shut.
Open and shut.
Open and shut.
Throughout the day.
The little glimpses of light just enough to know it's the day.
Open and shut.
Open and shut.
Open and shut.
And then nothing for a very long while.
It still hasn't met the woman. Where is the woman?
The man is staring again at the diamond.
This time it gleams beautifully just as before but the reaction is not of hope or joy, it's
of sadness and despair.
It gleams and the man cries.
It gleams as the man places a glass to his lips.
It gleams...
The box is shut with force this time a loud snap!
And it is thrown against a hard surface.
Falling down and around.
Tumbling until it hits another hard surface and the box pops open.
Lying on it's side where not nearly enough light can reach it to sparkle,
it waits.

The small particles gather ever so slowly resting on the once shiny platinum band.
Over time more and more collect, layering coats on the top side of the box.
What little light shines through each day is a wonder.
But it is not enough. It never will be enough.
Each day the black shoes pass followed by four furry feet.
Each night they pass again; the shoes and the fur.

The black wet nose is a welcome change.
Not the man but something to get it into the light again.
Alerted by the whimpers the man's face appears.
Hands reach.
Dust is lifted.
The diamond can sparkle again.
But not for long.
He does not look at it.
It can't see his eyes.

It is, this time, gently placed within a drawer.
In the dark once more.
Longing for the dust and shoes and the fur again.
When there was a fraction of time to shine dim yet shine each day.
Not knowing when that will happen again.

It is a while before it sees light again. But it's the same as before.
The opening and closing.
Open and shut.
Open and shut.
It can't help but wonder of the woman's eyes, when she sees its brilliance.
She'll look at it often.
Stare in wonder of all the facets if light.
It will see other eyes as well and shine for them too.
The beauty will overwhelm them.
But in the end it will shine just for her.

The light is bright and familiar. It doesn't see the new eyes expected
but a pair of familiar yet wholly unexpected eyes.
It is being inspected again, cleaned and ogled.
It doesn't want to be there again
under the bright lights with the others waiting to be chosen again.
Trying to outshine the others.
It wants to see her eyes.
It wants to shine for her.
Rest on her finger for as long as they both shall live.
It feels not a finger, not the warmth of flesh and blood but the
ivory cylinder beneath its shiny band.
The man stares at it.
It sparkles harder for him.
One last time.
He smiles.
A tear comes to his eye.
He takes it between his strong fingers and kisses it.
And then it waits
for the inevitable.

But something is happening.
It is not going back onto the ivory velvet.
It is not going into the glass box.
It is going back into the black velvet box.
And into his pocket.

The light is bright but the room dark. It is again in a glass box only
bigger this time.
Red surrounds as the light shines down.
Just a glimmer of him and then darkness,
shut into a drawer.

Light again.
Sad eyes.
Determined eyes.
Longing to see happy joyful eyes.
No. Not this day.
For as long as they both shall live?
How long will that be?

Shut again.
Movement.
Light again.
Sad eyes.
A kiss.
A last kiss?
Different light. Different surroundings. Different desk drawer.

Movement.
Light.
It's her!
She covers her mouth. Shakes her head.
It's her eyes!
Blue like the sea after a storm.
Red where the white should be.
Too many tears.
Not happy tears.
She let's out a gasp for air.
Shakes her head again.
Shuts those beautiful eyes.
It is not seen even now when in the light she doesn't look at it.
It has failed.
But it still shines.
It will still shine for her.

The box is lying on it's side, opened.
Clutched in the box in her hand.
Her skin so close. Her head resting, asleep against the desk in her tears.
She hasn't even touched it yet, the fingers so close to the platinum.
To be smoothed by her.
Worn by her.
Kissed again by him.
She stirs.
Her finger brushes the metal with the movement.
So warm and smooth.
Perfection.
Her head raises. Eyes red rimmed and puffy.
She gazes at the ring.
Eyes still glorious.
Her trembling hand touches the diamond.
She let's out another gasp.
She lifts it between her fingers and places it on the one nearest her heart.
A perfect fit.
The flesh and blood warming the cool metal.
She balls her hand into a fist.
Clenching and un-clenching.
Shaking her hand and stilling it.
Walking around, her hand swinging.
Running it through her hair.
Pulling the handle to enter the red glass box.
Swinging, clenching, shaking, running.
Over and over until...
it stops.
She looks at it.
She looks away.
She stands...swinging her hand in motion.
Clenched in a fist again, she pounds on a solid surface.
Clutching against the solid surface.
Sobs let out.
Rubbing her hand against the soft fibres on the solid surface.
Resting her head against the solid surface.
Her cries softly turning into soft laughter.
She moves her hand upwards.
The surface turns to rough stubbly warm flesh.
Then to smooth skin.
Then to soft wispy hair.
And back against the smooth skin.
Warm stubbly flesh.
Cool soft fibres.
And then her eyes rest on its shining brilliance. Meant only for her.
His eyes are there too.
He holds her hand in his, staring down with his amber eyes
and truly smiles, kisses it. Again.
They smile down at it with tears in their eyes.
And for as long as they both shall live,
it gleams.

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