GARTH BROOKS LYRICS
"The Red Strokes"
Moonlight on canvas, midnight and wine
Two shadows starting to softly combine
The picture they're painting
Is one of the heart
And to those who have seen it
It's a true work of art
Oh, the red strokes
Passions uncaged
Thundering moments of tenderness rage
Oh, the red strokes
Tempered and strong (Fearlessly drawn)
Burning the night like the dawn
Steam on the window, salt in a kiss
Two hearts have never pounded like this
Inspired by a vision
That they can't command
Erasing the borders
With each brush of a hand
Oh, the red strokes
Passions uncaged
Thundering moments of tenderness rage
Oh, the red strokes
Tempered and strong (Fearlessly drawn)
Burning the night like the dawn
Oh, the blues will be blue and the jealousies green
But when love picks its shade it demands to be seen
Oh, the red strokes
Passions uncaged
Thundering moments of tenderness rage
Oh, the red strokes
Tempered and strong (Fearlessly drawn)
Burning the night like the dawn
Oh, the red strokes
Passions uncaged
Thundering moments of tenderness rage
Oh, the red strokes
Tempered and strong (Fearlessly drawn)
Burning the night like the dawn
Steam on the window, salt in a kiss
Two hearts have never pounded like this
Author: Fire
Disclaimer: I would LOVE to own them. Do You know what I could figure out to do to Scott Summers? But alas, it isn't to be. sigh Oh and the lyrics belong to Garth Brooks.
A/N: I am a huge Scott/Marie fan, and there aren't very many fic's out there with them in it. I plan to change all that.
Summary: Scott ponders.
Scott sat at the bar, a Jack Daniels on the rocks in his hand. He smiled without humor, looking down at it. Who would have thought it, Scott tight ass Summers getting drunk. And he planned on getting very drunk. Sighing he downed the fiery liquid in one gulp, wincing as it burned it's way down his throat and settle heavily in the pit of his stomach. Anyone who saw him would think that he was still pinning for Jean, but he had let her go, he loved her, god how he loved her. But it had been over a year and he knew it was time to let her go.
Taking a deep breath he signaled the bartender for another, the smoke in the bar burning his lungs and stinging his eyes. He squeezed them shut, at first to stop the stinging, then to conjure up the image of the one person that had given him peace in his time of need.
Moonlight on canvas, midnight and wine
Two shadows starting to softly combine
Someone had chosen that exact moment to start the juke box up and play a song that fit his mood perfectly. Not only that but it reminded him of his angel. He could see her smooth, soft skin just kissed by the sunlight laid bare in the soft moon light. Their bodies twining, coming together as one for the first time. And he knew it would be good. Someone with so much love and tenderness would naturally convey that in love making.
The picture their painting
Is one of the heart
And to those who have seen it
It's a true work of art
God that song! Scott almost did a Logan growl when a woman walked up to him and laid a hand on his forearm. It took every ounce of willpower he had not to rip her hand from his arm. He looked at it and pushed back the twinge of disappointment that her hands were bare. No trace of silk gloves. He had to admit that since he had discovered his attraction to Rouge, also known as Marie, he had a little bit of a fetish for gloves. He would love to feel those glove covered hands against his bare skin. Even though she had found the switch that controlled her mutation, he would love to make love to her in nothing but long, elbow length opera gloves.
Glancing at the woman, who was at present leaning forward to give him a good eyeful of cleavage, he pushed back the urge to snarl and instead he forced a sexy smirk, complete with dimples at the woman. Who, predictably sighed wistfully. Got 'em every time, he thought, tossing back another drink.
Oh, the red strokes
Passions uncaged
Thundering moments of tenderness rage
Oh, the red strokes
Tempered and strong (Fearlessly drawn)
Burning the night like the dawn
Steam on the window, salt in a kiss
Two hearts have never pounded like this
Inspired by a vision
That they can't command
Erasing the borders
With each brush of a hand
Oh, the red strokes
Passions uncaged
Thundering moments of tenderness rage
Oh, the red strokes
Tempered and strong (Fearlessly drawn)
Burning the night like the dawn
Oh, the blues will be blue and the jealousies green
But when love picks its shade it demands to be seen
Oh, the red strokes
Passions uncaged
Thundering moments of tenderness rage
Oh, the red strokes
Tempered and strong (Fearlessly drawn)
Burning the night like the dawn
Oh, the red strokes
Passions uncaged
Thundering moments of tenderness rage
Oh, the red strokes
Tempered and strong (Fearlessly drawn)
Burning the night like the dawn
Steam on the window, salt in a kiss
Two hearts have never pounded like this
The woman leaned over and whispered in his ear. He looked at her through the ruby quartz sunglasses he was cursed to wear and made a decision. He would take this woman back to a motel, and maybe just maybe he could pretend that she was someone else. Pretend that what they had was Tempered and strong and Fearlessly draw, and that she had the passion to burn the night like the done.
As he drug her out into the night the last two lines of that blasted song screamed in his memory.
Steam on the window, salt in a kiss. Two hearts have never pounded like this. And with that he knew. No amount of cheap sex and one night stands could erase her from his thoughts. She was seared to his soul, just like those platinum streaks that were burned into her hair was just as much a part of her as she was to him.
Scott disentangled himself for the woman and despite her outraged protests swung his leg over his motorcycle and spun out of the parking lot. He knew in his heart that he could do only one thing. He would confront Rouge, tell her his feelings and prey that she returned them. Because the picture their painting is one of the heart
Fin.