Disclaimer: I do not own Constantine.

XXIX

I think of thee! - my thoughts do twine and bud
About thee, as wild vines, about a tree,
Put out broad leaves, and soon there's nought to see
Except the straggling green which hides the wood.
Yet, O my palm-tree, be it understood
I will not have my thoughts instead of thee
Who art dearer, better! Rather, instantly
Renew thy presence; as a strong tree should,
Rustle thy boughs and set thy trunk all bare,
And let these bands of greenery which insphere thee,
Drop heavily down, - burst, shattered everywhere!
Because, in this deep joy to see and hear thee
And breathe within thy shadow a new air,
I do not think of thee - I am too near thee.

She was tired of thinking about him. She shifted restlessly on her bed, the sound of her rustling sheets the only sound in the bedroom. She wished she had a picture of him somewhere to keep her company, as pathetic as that sounded.

She felt like a schoolgirl with a crush on her teacher, or an immature teenager attracted to an older, darkly mysterious man. Her feelings for John Constantine were no joke, however. Sometimes it felt that he was a strong tall tree and she was a weaker vine, twisting around him for her own survival. It was true, though, and scary. She needed him like air, the desert needs water.

"Angela, you're pathetic," she murmured to herself and promptly shut her eyes, determined to get some sleep. She dozed off in a matter of minutes and then she started dreaming of him in bed with her, his arms around her, his breath against her skin, his lips…

She woke up with a start, frustrated to tears. She had work early in the morning and how was she going to make it there if she couldn't sleep.

"God damn you," she said aloud as though he were in the room with her. I wish.

As though God were sending her a sign, she heard Barbara Streisand and Celine Dion's voices drifting into her room from her neighbor's flat.

"Tell him, tell him that the sun and moon

Rise in this eyes, reach out to him

And whisper

Tender words so soft and sweet.

I'll hold him close to feel his heartbeat,

Love will be the gift you give yourself."

This was insane! She sat up in bed, throwing away the covers, breathing hard. Tell him how she felt? She didn't have to tell him how she felt to picture him saying with a smirk, "Go get some sleep, detective. The demons are getting to you."

"Tell him, tell him, tell him," the voices sang. Angela got to her feet and banged on the wall. "Hey!" she yelled, "you mind turning down the goddamn music?"

The neighbor didn't appear to hear her and the blasted song kept playing. She ran her fingers through her long brown hair and started pacing the room. She remembered her last conversation with John on the rooftop. God had a plan of everyone, he said. Was this a sign? She kept listening to the song. Was this a sign that God wanted to her to go to him and tell him that she was in love with him?

Ridiculous. But if she didn't tell him then how could she get any peace of mind?

She sighed and threw on her clothes. He lived on the other side of town and she was grateful for the absence of any traffic at that time of the night. It was still raining though but she had her raincoat.

As she drove, she wondered what she would say to him. What if he wasn't home? What if he was out hunting demon. Well, I guess you won't know that until you go to his apartment.

How would she break the news to him? Um…hello, John, I guess you're wondering why I'm here at this time of the night, huh? Well, actually the thing is I'm in love with you and I have been for a while. I just thought you'd like to know. All right, now that I've said what I've wanted to say, I'll be leaving now.

She frowned and shook her head, cursing John for bringing her to her knees like this. She was Angela Dodson, one of the toughest, best detectives of LAPD and she was totally confused about how she'd confess her love to a detective of the supernatural.

She found his apartment soon enough and parked her car. She took out a mirror to check how she looked – as if he'd care, she realized.

All right, here goes nothing, she took a deep breath and raised her hand to knock on the door. She looked at the familiar setting around her, her heart pounding in her chest. She could already feel his presence and breathe his scent inside the flat. It was so much better than thinking of him while she was away from him.

The door opened and there he stood, in his familiar white shirt, black tie and trousers, looking surprised to see her. Her mind suddenly went blank at the sight of him, she could no longer think of him anymore – she was too near him.