AN: Happy Birthday Cantate! Thank you so much for being such a steadfast and caring friend, for popping up in my life just when I needed you most, for your good heart, and your positivity, plus everything else too. I hope you always love Ewan, and I hope you enjoy this. Hugs, love, Ewan thoughts and good fic on your day :)
More notes at the end! Please enjoy, and let me know what you think. There can never be enough Ewan character fic ;) If you like it...I might write more.
The full moon shone bright and high above the broad expanse of Yemeni desert, the white light making the fine sand and rocks gleam like diamonds scattered over the land.
Her skin shone as well, pale and smooth and perfect, her shoulders and arms still bare after their swim.
Fred grinned as Harriet turned her head one last time to catch a glimpse of him before she disappeared into her tent for the night. She returned his smile when she caught him watching her. "Goodnight, Fred."
"Goodnight, Harriet."
A breeze lifted from the sands, cool in the nighttime and even though the air was warm, his chest was bare, skin still damp, and he shivered.
For one moment Fred hesitated, twisting his shirt in his hands. He wanted to follow her, to take her in his arms and hold her. To kiss her and show her how much he felt, but he'd promised her as much time as she wanted, and he meant it. Frankly, he thought he could use a bit of time himself. In fact he was still married. If one could call what he had with Mary a marriage...
Fred shook his head, clearing his mind of the dreary thoughts. The marriage, whatever it had been, was over. It was time for a fresh start.
He entered his own tent and drew the flaps closed, dropping his shirt to the chair and thinking of Harriet's soft eyes and tender smile. She had changed him, more than he'd ever imagined he could change - and helped him grow into the person he was really meant to be. More than anything he hoped a true relationship between them was far more than theoretically possible, but no matter what happened, he would always cherish her for standing by his side as he became the man he should have always been.
Quietly he pulled a soft, worn t-shirt out of his pack and a pair of cotton pajama pants to wear to bed. In his mind, he wondered how it would be if she were here...
Would she be shy, changing for bed quickly, turned away in the corner? Or confident and natural...pulling her clothes off with ease in front of him. Fred felt his heart thud within his chest imagining such a thing. Perhaps he wasn't experienced, but he felt like a different man now, and he'd very much like to explore and discover this new side of himself with Harriet.
With a deep breath, Fred finished changing and urged his racing thoughts (and libido) to calm patience. It would do no good to rush her in this. He chided himself for his anxiousness as if he was a teenage boy. But in all truth, he had so much to make up for and he was feeling that quite keenly at the moment.
The light was extinguished mindlessly and Fred climbed into bed, silent and steadfast as ever, even as his thoughts and emotions whirled, awoken anew within him. Stretching out under the blanket, he turned, and then turned again, trying to get comfortable and picturing Harriet lying beside him in his bed, peacefully asleep as she had been when he had comforted her at the sheik's estate.
Sleep drew closer, and he felt tired, dozing lightly, but sure he might never sleep well again without her by his side.
Something roused him from a light sleep gently, sweet and soft - the brush of fingertips over his shoulder, the sweep of lips on his cheek. Then she was there, in the dark, slipping under the blankets and climbing into his bed, sliding her body next to his.
It felt real.
Of their own accord his arms instantly moved to wrap around the curve of her waist, pulling her against him. He bent his head to nuzzle at her shoulder, slipping the thin strap of her nightgown down her arm. Then he turned his face into her neck, breathing her in. He swore he could smell the soft, flowery scent of her bare skin.
She sighed and he felt the flutter of her breath against his cheek. Shifting, she rolled onto her back, looking up at him with shining blue eyes, soft with affection. For a moment there was nothing else then she spoke, whispering in the darkness. "Take off my clothes?" Her voice was shy, hopeful. Fred's heart jumped, his stomach flipping, and as he lifted his hand toward her he saw it was trembling. It had been a very long time since he had undressed a woman...
Mary had always been frigid. Perhaps in the beginning she had been nervous or unsure, but that had soon turned into a hard sort of iron cold armor meant to hold him away, and he had never dared try more than she asked or verbally allowed.
But Harriet was warm and comfortable in his arms; he searched her face finding only eager hope. It gave him courage and more. He vowed he would be different for her.
In a matter of moments he had her bare. With graceful, deft hands she returned the favor. In the dim light, he caught her gaze again and she pressed her body to his. Her skin was cool and silk-soft, her curves perfectly shaped against the harder planes of his body. "Show me," she asked.
His breath caught at the desire flaring in her eyes.
"Love me," she said.
He did love her. He knew then in that moment exactly how much and he knew he would do anything to prove it, to hold on to it, to cherish it. Every hope he ever had seemed centered around her. It was a warm, rich feeling, the best he had ever felt.
"Yes." Yes. Yes.
His mouth lowered to capture hers as he rolled them so he was pinning her to the bed. The soft mounds of her breasts were pressed against his chest and he groaned at the perfect way she arched into him.
After a long, deep kiss, after he had stroked her tongue with his own, he shifted, trailing his mouth down over her throat and collarbone. Unable to keep from touching, he explored her until she was breathless, tracing the swelling curves of her breasts with his fingertips, caressing her waist and her belly, the slick heat between her thighs.
Her fingers slipped into his hair, tugging and guiding, loving. Fred kissed every inch of her until she was pleading for him and then he slid himself easily into her welcoming body.
She was soft and yielding for him, and her hips were moving with his. It had never felt like this before. Too good. Perfect. He lifted his head to meet her gaze and gratefully found her eyes alight in pleasure. He knew she felt the same as he did.
"So beautiful," he murmured, lifting a hand to stroke her dark hair. She tilted her head to kiss him and he sped the motion of his thrusts - Harriet cried out, a whimpering sound of pleasure and want. Then Fred was shuddering his release with a low groan, overwhelmed with emotion and happiness. His entire body shook with the pleasure of his climax and he buried his face against her throat, feeling the erratic pulse of her heart against his lips as she came apart beneath him. Nothing real had ever felt like this; not in his life.
Her hands lifted to press against his back and she was stroking her fingers along his spine and shoulders, murmuring words of love against his cheek. Fred held her close and tight, wishing for this one moment to last for an eternity but when he regained his breath, she began to pull away.
He murmured in protest, at least he thought he had, but it seemed to have no effect. Slipping out of his arms, she rose to stand next to the bed, still bare and utterly beautiful in the dim light. The soft lips he had just kissed - he swore he could still taste her - curved in a gentle smile of affection and then she was gone like a wisp of smoke.
In his chest, his breath hitched and it shuddered, but he closed his eyes, willing the fear away. Faith and fish. Faith.
She would come back, he knew it.
The next Fred knew, his little tent-home was filling with light and he was waking to a new day, a warm feeling of hope and love swirling around within him.
Had it been real? He wished it had. Turning his head, he buried his face into the pillows at his side, breathing deeply, trying to catch her delicate scent.
Eventually he turned to his back, sighing a little. That had been the best night of his life. He closed his eyes replaying every moment of it - the sight of her, the feel of her hands on him, her voice and her eyes, the sensation of her body enclosing him fully, deeply.
His heart stuttered in his chest as he remembered her leaving at the end. He didn't want her to go. Not at all. But he somehow had known in that moment she must.
Fred thought of everything the sheik had ever told him and everything he had seen.
And he had faith.
A new sort of quiet strength filled him and he knew then that he had never wanted anything as much as he wanted Harriet. Now he had seen and felt what it could be, and it felt right.
In his dreams she had been safe and warm and soft in his arms. He vowed he would show her, love her, until she knew.
Whatever it takes. He smiled to himself.
AN: For as long as we've known each other, cantate, you've told me how much you loved the dream sequence from the Salmon Fishing novel, and what a shame it was that it was not included in the movie (I agree!) While I can't make them redo the movie, I really hope you enjoyed this version of what a movie version of Fred's dream might look like, with a bit of a positive, romantic twist.
I've wanted to write this for awhile - if there's interest I'd love to write more Fred! Let me know :)