Title: What's in a Kiss? 3/3
Author: xfphile
E-mail: xfphile@yahoo.com
Archive: If you want to--just let me know.
Rating: G
Summary: Reflections during a kiss.
Time Frame: Second season,
during the episode "Ship of Spies."
Disclaimer: The characters of Lee Stetson, Amanda King, Billy
Melrose, Francine Desmond and anybody else belong to Shoot the Moon
Productions, Warner Brothers, and any other Powers-That-Be. There is no
copyright infringement intended.
Feedback is
welcomed; flames will be used to cook my dinner.
What's in a
Kiss?
* * * * * * * *
* * * * * * * * *
As my lips meet hers, I can't help but be affected by the moment. Her lips are soft, her breath sweet, and it's all I can do to keep myself from reacting to her. Forcibly reminding myself that I don't care for Amanda King takes most of my concentration, but it also prevents me from giving in to my body and kissing her the way I really want to.
With a near-Herculean effort, I keep my mind on business and manage to ignore the enticing mouth beneath mine. After about ten seconds pass, I deem it time to end this little charade and get back to my case. I firmly but gently pull my mouth from hers and lean back.
* * *
Oh, my gosh. Lee Stetson is kissing me. Well, not really. Not in the sense of a real 'we just got married and need to get a room kiss.' It's more like a . . .it's really more like a friendly kiss. Now, I've heard all the talk about Scarecrow around the water cooler, so I know he can do better than this; I also know that he won't. And, even though I was expecting his lack of response, I'm surprised to feel disappointment wash through me. In the very back of my mind, I had hoped that he would forget who he was for a few brief moments. Silly me.
His lips are firm and business-like above mine and his mind is obviously elsewhere. I fight back the hurt that accompanies that realization and focus on controlling my own response. Since he so obviously feels nothing, I have no reason to feel anything either. I do have a nearly over-powering urge to rattle his suave, secret-agent exterior, though. He's not paying any attention to me and I can't help but wonder what he'd do if I just let go and kissed him the way I wanted to. Feeling a grin start to form on my lips, I prepare to pull away from him. He beats me to the punch and gently lifts his mouth off of mine as he leans back.
* * *
I finish pulling away from Amanda and am about to start disengaging myself from our 'husband and wife' embrace when something makes me stop. My gaze meets hers for the briefest of seconds, but when shame washes through me, I drop my eyes. Even as I do it, I am mentally raging at myself.
What am I doing? Why am I ashamed? Amanda and I are not involved, we're not going to be involved, and this isn't real! Okay. So why am I so bothered? And why do I have this uncontrollable urge to lean in and kiss her again—and I mean really kiss her?
I don't have an answer for my second question, but my body takes care of the physical solution and leans back over to her. Quickly realizing the futility of trying to stop what is going to happen, I close my eyes and take back command of my body. My lips hover over hers for a second that is so brief it's undetectable and in that one moment, I am free. Right now, in this place and time, I am not Scarecrow, government agent and consummate ladies' man. In this instant, I am Lee Stetson.
My lips settle over hers again and I relish in the softness of her mouth and sweet taste of her breath. Her lips are pliant beneath mine and I am sorely tempted to exploit that willingness and let my tongue gently enter her mouth and discover the secrets there. Unfortunately, as much as I want to, I can't. Lee's all-too-brief appearance is curtailed as Scarecrow pushes his way back into the limelight. I gently pull my mouth away from hers. We look at each other for a minute-long eternity before I take a step back, removing myself from the danger zone.
My mind is reeling and doesn't know what to think. On one side, it greatly enjoyed what just happened and wouldn't mind in the least doing it again. On the other, more prevalent side, horror is the overriding emotion and it is to that portion of my brain that I subscribe to. I absent-mindedly offer her my arm; she accepts it and we start back down the aisle. I am still grappling with what I just did and I don't notice anything until we reach the refreshment tables. The sight of champagne brings me back and I gratefully grab two glasses, handing one to my 'bride' before taking a long, steadying drought of mine. Fleetingly, I wish it were scotch instead of champagne, but this vintage is good and I shrug off my desire as I absently respond to something she said.
Well, I shrug off my desire for a stronger drink, anyway. Getting rid of my wish to kiss Amanda again isn't as easy. I lose myself in the memory of how she tasted when something she is saying catches my attention and I drag myself back to the case. With a mental sigh, I put my internal musings on hold for the time being and concentrate my full attention on sorting through the ramble she just presented me with.
As we start to head to the 'honeymoon car' that will take us to the pier where our ship is docked, though, somewhere in the back of mind, a voice whispers, "Someday, Amanda. Someday . . ."
* * *
He's staring at me again. I wish he wouldn't do that. It's unnerving and—why did he just look down? Oh, no, did he feel something in my kiss? I tried not to react, I really did—but it was so hard. Oh, I hope I didn't just ruin everything. Drat, I knew this was a bad idea. Now he—
The feel of his mouth covering mine cuts off my train of thought. I almost gasp at the sensation of his soft—but firm—lips as they move gently over mine.
Oh. My. Gosh.
Lee Stetson is kissing me. He's really kissing me. There are so many things I should be thinking about right now, but the only word that comes to my mind is 'Wow!' Even this gentle, tender kiss is enough to overwhelm my senses and I spare a brain cell to be grateful that he's not asking for anything more. I'm not sure I'd refuse him. For that matter, I'm sure I could refuse him. Before I can continue that line of thought, I feel him gently pull away.
We stare at each other for a timeless moment before he offers me his arm. I absently take it, my thoughts focused on what just happened between us. I knew that Lee Stetson had just kissed me; I also know that it is Scarecrow's arm I now hold. Covertly watching him out of the corner of my mind, I see him arguing with himself and let out an inaudible sigh. Regret fills my mind as I realize that when this case is over, I'll get 'The Speech' again.
We reach the refreshment tables and he hands me a glass of champagne. I accept it and take a sip, watching with amusement as he chugs his like he hasn't seen liquid in a week. I stare thoughtfully at him, wondering if that kiss had affected him as well. Six minutes ago, I would have said no, but now . . .
His comment about my wedding ring suddenly registers and I push everything but the case to the one side. He asks me something and I respond with my usual enthusiasm, hoping that he doesn't notice my momentary distraction. He steps back from the table and gestures for me to precede him. I take one last sip of my champagne, put the glass on the table, and walk past him. He finishes his own drink, puts his glass next to mine, and falls into step beside me. We begin discussing the case again and I shove my wonderings into the nether regions of my mind.
The masks of Scarecrow and Mrs. King fall back into place, but as we head to the car that will take us back to the ship, a voice in the back of my mind murmurs, "It will happen, Lee. Someday . . ."
Finis