This Magic Moment, by Lea
Summary: An addendum to the episode Gay/Straight Alliance. My take on how things would have progressed between Grace and Dimitri had Lily's interruption not ended their interaction. While the first half is merely my retelling of the 2nd Car Scene, the second half is far more exciting…
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: This takes place at the end of the episode Gay/Straight Alliance and takes off on a tangent from there, it consists of my version of events following that soulful stare and I warn canon-purists that it does not necessarily follow the actual events occurring in the subsequent episodes.
Content: Some kissing and angst, but that's about it.
Pairing: Grace/Dimitri
Disclaimer/Author's Note: None of the characters used belong to me, no profit is made from this story and no infringement is intended. Oh, and the title to this work of fiction has been respectfully lifted from a Drifters song of the same name. Not only does the title fit, but the lyrics as well, even though I had completed this story well before realizing how well they fit. However, I have therefore included them at the bottom of this page. I also found it strangely ironic/fitting that the first time I heard this song was from a teacher of mine. He would frequently sing it during class. It seems that everything is connected…
Feedback can be sent to me at: [email protected], or posted as a review on this site (with the latter being the preferred method J ). And please, do review! It's like chicken soup to the fanfic writer's soul! Or something like that. Somehow this analogy doesn't quite work as well when one is a vegetarian…
"Love answers not to the mind, or to the eyes, but solely to the Heart"
-Author Unknown
She was angry with him. He knew it. He also knew that she had every right to be mad. He even realized that were the roles reversed, he would have been angry with himself too. However, that did nothing to ease the pain it caused him. It's not as though he wanted to brush her off when she unexpectedly arrived at his house, to belittle her, to pretend to act as though he felt indifferent towards her, when in fact his feelings were anything but. For his sake, for her sake, he tried to be the strong one, to end things before they started. But when she brushed him off at the end of the meeting with Ms. Gonzales, and walked away from them, away from him, it hurt. She was both physically and emotionally distancing herself from him, and with a sudden, somewhat distressing shock, he realized just how much he had come to depend upon her presence.
Minutes later he saw her walking through the parking lot, sidestepping the puddles, and, thankful for the second chance to try and make things right, he did the only thing he could do, stopping the car to offer her a ride, illogically praying she wouldn't brush him off again, even though that would have been the safer thing to have happen, the words to an old Police song started running though his head, taunting him. Temptation, frustration, so bad it makes him cry. Wet bus stop, she's waiting, his car is warm and dry.
This car ride was silent, awkward, her lack of speech stemming from anger and hurt, his from a complete inability to think of a single thing which would even be close to the "right" thing to say. Before he could come up with anything, they arrived at her house. He silently cursed and realizing he would lose this chance if he waited any longer, he offered her the one thing that seemed somewhat appropriate.
"Thanks for doing such a great job today. You were very… persuasive." Even to his own ears it sounded lame and inadequate.
Refusing to look at him, wishing to avoid conversation, she sullenly responded with, "I don't even know what I said."
He looked at her again, and desperately trying to keep the conversation going, continued, "Well, trust me, because of what you said the Gay/Straight Alliance will get the funding to have that dance."
She looked at him now, deciding she was tired of this game they were playing, and in a move that showed her to be far braver than the teacher beside her, she opted for honesty, "I don't care about the stupid dance. I don't care about the Gay/Straight Alliance."
It was his turn to wish to avoid conversation, to avoid confrontation. Looking down, away from those eyes which could see straight to his very soul, he whispered, "I know you don't."
Unable to stop, she pressed on, asking, "What else do you know?"
Things were rapidly spinning out of control, and in a last-ditch attempt to hold on to things, to save them, he desperately tried to steer things back towards safer waters, saying, "I know you took my book." He paused and seeing the sad look in her eyes, before he thought it through, added, "It was stupid of me not to just let you borrow it." The second it left his mouth he realized how dangerous things were becoming, and so, steeling himself to the lonely eyes and the tears which were sure to follow, he attempted, once again, to end things, "The thing is, Grace," he allowed himself one last luxury of saying her name, dwelling upon it perhaps a bit too long, before realizing what he was doing and spitting the rest out, "We're not friends."
She gave an embarrassed, self-deprecation half-smile and said, "I know that."
She didn't seem to be getting it, and suddenly remembering how completely embarrassed and unsure and out of control he had been when she came to his house the other night, he added, "I mean, you can't just drop by my house like that!"
Nodding vigorously, she agreed, that experience hadn't been great for her either… "I know that." She said.
Then suddenly everything he had been wanting so desperately, so completely, bubbled over, and he let it out in the only manner he could, citing all the things that couldn't happen, that he couldn't allow to happen, "If circumstances were different, I'd like nothing more than to be your friend." Well, perhaps one thing more than "friend"... He thought silently as he said it. "I'd want you to drop by my house." His mind tortured him with thoughts of what that would lead to if they were more than friends. "I'd lend you my book of poems I wrote when I was in my twenties which I'm now embarrassed by." And finally came the last thing, the most important thing to him, with the situation as it was, "I'd want you to call me August and not Mr. Dimitri and we would sit and talk for hours." He realized where he'd been going with all this and attempted to bring himself back to the task at hand, "But we can't do that." Now came the hardest part, and mad at himself and the situation, the words came out harshly, "We can't be friends."
She looked at him, unable to hold back the tears any longer, "Okay, okay" she choked out, begging him to not continue, "Just stop saying it. Please."
In that moment, he could not have hated himself more. Yet despite what a total cretin he felt like, he kept reminding himself of how this was all for her own good. That he was protecting her. And so when she asked him if Chris was his girlfriend, he responded by gently rebuking her, "You shouldn't be asking me questions like that!"
She broke down again, turning away from him and sobbing, and he found that her tears proved to be his undoing. The knowledge that he alone was causing her all of this pain was unbearable. Relenting, he softly offered her what little hope he could, giving her a small smile and telling her about Chris, "She was my girlfriend, a long time ago, in college. Now we're just friends."
Grace's tears stopped and the two of them stared into each others eyes for a moment that lasted forever, and then, her gaze pointedly shifted to his lips and he went stone cold, realizing in an instant where this was headed, yet he was unable to stop his eyes from mimicking her action. He was so close to losing control, wanted to give in to what they were obviously both feeling so badly, and yet, in a last-ditch effort to save them both, warned her, practically begging, "You'd better get out of the car now."
And she, showing coyness far beyond her years asked, "Why?"
He could not answer in words, but nearly did in actions, as heads shifted ever so slightly towards each other. They were so close, he anticipated it, could nearly taste it.
And then suddenly reality harshly intruded. Lily knocking on the window. They both jumped back guiltily. Grace opened the window and he, staring steadfastly forward, immediately began to stammer an apology, "I was just… it was cold outside and…" The excuses sounded pathetic and obviously guilty to his ears, but apparently she believed him, going so far as to thank him profusely, then asked Grace to help with the groceries.
Grace paused for half a second to collect her scattered thoughts, conscious only of the need to not let go, to not let him leave with things so unfinished, with things so close, and yet so far. She turned her head to look at Mr. Dimitri, and then spoke to him, softly, yet resolutely saying, "I forgot my journal at the school."
"Oh. Well. I suppose we could go back to get it. " He said, decidedly uncomfortable at the prospect, but he was finding it increasingly difficult to deny her anything.
"No, no, you don't need to do that. We don't want to inconvenience you." Interceded Lily, giving him a choice, a way out.
Through all this, August Dimitri was outwardly calm, however, on the inside, the twin halves of him were at war. His rational side telling him to stop now, while he was still able, that things were getting far too close, too dangerous. In his mind, he knew all this, and knew it to be true, but his heart, his treacherous heart rejoiced at the chance to spend a few more precious moments with his Grace. With every beat, it pleaded with him, begging for more time near her. In the end there was no choice. "It's really no problem. I don't mind at all. Are you alright with the groceries?" He asked, his last chance to get out of this.
Lily shrugged her acceptance, saying, "I'll be fine with the food." At that, he pulled out of the driveway and began to maneuver the car through the streets. They drove in silence until he pulled into a secluded parking lot several blocks from her house.
Grace was the first to break the ice, "You knew I was lying." It was not a question.
He shrugged a shoulder uncomfortably, "There's no homework tonight."
So why did you lie to my mother?
She looked up at him, the question in her eyes, but he met her gaze, with the answer in his eyes, telling Grace what she needed to know, and begging her not to make him say it aloud right then. For he knew, that in that moment, had she but said one word, he would have told everything and bared his soul before her. But she heeded his unspoken plea and neither question nor response was verbalized and the unsteady balance they'd achieved allowed to remain.
He was the first to look away, tearing his eyes from hers. He sighed heavily, "Oh, Grace…" he murmured softly, "What am I doing?" the frustration weighing him down, he leaned forward, crossing his arms on the steering wheel, and resting his head upon them.
As he slouched over the wheel, a lock of hair fell forward. Neither willing, nor able, to stop herself, Grace reached out and gently tucked it behind his ear. His hair was so soft and silky, smooth, like burnished gold. It felt better than she'd ever dreamed possible, and she couldn't help herself from running her hand through it one more time, ending with her hand lightly tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck.
When he felt her soft hand in his hair, he stiffened sharply, sitting up in his seat, the words be careful what you wish for running through his head as he realized just how many times he'd fantasized about her doing that. He gave her a pained look, but she didn't remove her hand, and he didn't ask her to. The damned voice of reason in his head taunted him- you're too old for her, she's a minor, you're her teacher, she's half your age- and yet, he could no more stop his feelings than stop the turning of the earth on its axis. Damn the consequences! Damn the rules and regulations! He thought, Damn everything except her and the gentle yet infinitely precious weight of her hand upon my neck.
All of a sudden he realized that he was sitting alone, with her, with only about a foot of space to separate them. And then, even more abruptly, he realized that the foot of space between them was far more than his traitorous heart and body wanted. Not thinking, no longer rationalizing things, solely following his feelings, he reached up to cup her face with his hand, and she automatically turned her head into it in a gesture that he found tugged at his heartstrings. He closed his eyes briefly against the feelings she evoked, and then opened them to look at her again.
"Tell me this is wrong." He begged, his voice low and nearly breaking, when she remained silent, he tried again, "Please, tell me I shouldn't do this." Her only response was to twine her hand tighter in his hair, and still, she said nothing. At her continued silence, he nearly snapped, "For God's sake, Grace, tell me to stop!" The silence following this outburst was nearly deafening, until Grace broke it with a soft voice.
"I don't want you to stop." She whispered.
Her quiet admission was the last straw for him. Decision made, he found himself calmer than he had been in a long time. He leaned towards her, slowly, ever so slowly, but paused, a heartbeat from her face. "Grace, I just… if you ever- if you ever want me to stop, please tell me. You know I would never do anything you didn't want, right? Because I-" She cut him off by using the hand still weaved in his hair to pull him the last inch towards her.
And then he was kissing her, and she was kissing him and the whole rest of the world seemed to fade away in the face of its power. It was not furious, or franticly impassioned, as he had thought it might be given the circumstances and the depth of his feelings for her, but this is not to say that it was not passionate, for it was. It was slow and profound and wholly consuming. He kissed her with a quiet reverence, every bit of his attention, every cell in his body attuned to and focused on her. He was unhurried and took his time, as though he had forever, as though it would last forever. In truth, it may very well have, if it were to be measured by the impression it made on the participants.
Eventually the necessity of breath interceded and he gently moved away, only to pull her close again, this time to hold her tightly against his chest. From this position, she could feel the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed heavily, winded from the kiss, and she decided that this feeling of closeness came second only to the kiss they had just shared.
"Mr. Dimitri, I-"
"No." He cut her off abruptly, his mood changing in a heartbeat from euphorically happy to decidedly unhappy. However, when she looked up at him, hurt and confusion in her eyes, he softened his tone, "I'm sorry," he apologized, leaning down to kiss her forehead. "It's just…" he paused and took a breath, trying to figure out how to explain his anger, "That wasn't 'Mr. Dimitri' kissing you, it wasn't your teacher, it was me, it was August. Whatever relationship we end up having, I want it to be as equals." He paused, then added softly, "Please, when we're alone, call me August?"
She nodded against his chest and softly murmured "August" as though testing it out and deciding she liked it. He felt his heart constrict in almost painful joy at the sound of his name upon her lips and he decided that nothing- no poem, or song, or play- would ever sound sweeter to his ears. He smiled again, for in that moment, they were together and he had finally been completely honest, both with her and with himself; he had let everything inside him show. Not necessarily with words, but with looks and actions. Looks and actions which had rendered words unnecessary. Let tomorrow bring what it may- for in that moment he was happy and refused to allow anything to ruin it.
~o~
This Magic Moment- The Drifters
This magic moment
So different and so new
Was like any other
Until I kissed you
And then it happened
It took me by surprise
I knew that you felt it too
By the look in your eyes
Sweeter than wine
Softer than the summer night
Everything I want I have
Whenever I hold you tight
This magic moment
While you lips are close to mine
Will last forever
Forever till the end of time
Sweeter than wine
Softer than the summer night
Everything I want I have
Whenever I hold you tight
This magic moment
While your lips are close to mine
Will last forever
Forever till the end of time