Title: Grounded

Author: Blaze

Summary: Short little sleep piece. G/S

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: I don't own any copyrighted anything in this fic.

Feedback: Positive/constructive.

A/N's: I wrote this at 12:33 am, while trying to sleep, but it didn't make it to my computer until 7:21 pm, then it's not posted until 7 am. (the twenty-nine hour story). Thank you, Devanie, for putting up with my shit. How's this for a peace offering? G Anyway, I (again) have not had this beta'd, blah blah blah. Who's who? No clue. G Enjoy!

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There is something intrinsically magical about watching you sleep.

Your lids closed tight over curious eyes, the blanket pulled up around your shoulders, the peace and innocence of a newborn on your face. You lose your edge when you drift over from this world to the next, and it may be the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.

Here in the darkness of mid-afternoon, on clean sheets and easy breaths, you stretch and turn, murmur something about cheese, caught deep in a dream I can only guess about.

And all I want is to climb into that dream and share.

We are not yet at the point in our tumultuous past-and-future story where we can safely dream together. We may never be. So I still dress to leave, but I'll be damned if a night goes by where a little hitch in your breathing doesn't make me turn and watch.

Sometimes your name passes my lips, a whispered confirmation of sleep, and I know one of these nights you're going to murmur an answer, a plea. But until then, you will continue to trap me in this enchanting and mystical incredulity, if only for a moment to store the image for my drive home.

The others would be astonished at your transition. I am sure they assume you sleep with the same blank emotionalism you have while you're working; I am sure they do not see your naiveté.

What a surprise it would be to them to see you the way I do. Would they stop in their tracks and stare, mouths dropping slightly as they were overcome by the sensational charm you exude as you wander peacefully through your personal slumber-realm, the way I do? Would the sight take away their breath, catch their hearts in their throat, make them want to reach out a finger to trace that nobody's-perfect face and eyes and hair?

You nearly kill me with awe.

The clock counts the seconds I stand here at the door, each quiet tick a mark towards my eventual betrayal, a mark towards the moment I don't leave. Not tonight, but soon. I can feel the moment coming, slowly but surely, and it is like hearing your smile, at once completely possible and wholly impossible.

I could not be more a part of you right now if I tried. I could not feel more affection for you at this moment without bursting. The decision to go is becoming harder and harder the longer I am here, the more afternoons we spend here.

Who would've imagined you are more you as you walk into the ethereal world between sleep and dreams? You are so deep-seated in reality that it borders on bizarre that you are more at home in this place, have always been more at home in sleep.

And I love you for it.

An arm swings over into the space I have abandoned, the first time in all the times I've watched you that you've done this, and your face narrows in confusion. Your eyes stay shut as my name plays out a mumble on your lips, and my heart stops. A content exhalation pushes the fabric of your pillow, you draw your arm back to your body, murmur, "Come back to bed."

I can hear your smile.