S2 E7 – Soft Pleadings in the Night #2

Part 2 of 3

Neither one wants to answer in case they make matters worse but he can't bear the silence and so he leaps in with a quick prayer, "Don't go. Stay. Here. With me. I want you to… to be with me." His tongue feels like a block of dense wood. Did he even manage to say what he thought he said?

She warns herself not to read too much into this. He's so contrary; he probably means the opposite to whatever he just garbled out. It sounded like the Queen's English… but who knows what he really meant? Still, it had sounded almost romantic. Impossible, of course, but still…

She tries to clarify matters, "You do? You really want me to stay here? With you? Um… are you afraid of the storm?" She flinches. Damn! Why did I have to give him a face-saving fall-back position? Of course he will claim it's the storm! Heaven forbid that he admits to anything personal! Heaven forbid that I get even one tiny crumb of solace!

He is watching the emotions fly across her face, frowns minutely then shakes his head.

She blinks. No? Not the storm? Then what? His hand is still firm on my arm and he hasn't dropped his eyes. "What then?" she dares, "What are you afraid of?"

This makes him drop his eyes. He seems to be searching for words.

She blinks again. Him? Lost for words? Must be the end of the world! Her hand comes up to cover his hand on her arm and she just has to plead, "Richard, talk to me. Please. Tell me what you're thinking. This tension between us is killing me."

Her hand slowly makes its way along his arm back up to his shoulder. She watches it without really believing it's happening – that he is actually allowing her touch! Then she sees something that makes her heart leap and her mind stumble. Is it my imagination or did his head dip a tiny fraction towards my hand? Did his eyes flick closed for just the barest moment? Did he look happy for just the smallest nanosecond? Richard… responding to me?

Her hand sliding up my arm - it sends shivers down his back. The warmth, the comfort, the PROMISE - it opens up a whole new world to him, a world he knows he wants very badly. If her merest touch is undoing me so totally then what would a kiss do to me? What would a caress on bare skin do to me?

His fear swells up immensely. Everything rides on what I do and say next, or don't do or say. Oh, god, why am I so scared? Looking into her swimming brown eyes, he knows. I'm scared because this woman is my only salvation and I'm afraid I will ruin it.

The words are out of his mouth before he realizes it, "I'm afraid I'll ruin it." His eyes flare in fear and he bites his lip. I said it aloud, he chides himself! I said it aloud and now she'll know! She'll know how I feel - and what I want - and what I don't deserve in the least!

She hears his words, sees his reaction, and knows he's let slip something he's tried very hard to hide. But what? Hide what? Ruin what? Our working relationship? Our quasi-friendship, if it can be called a friendship? His orderly quiet monk's life? My career? His career? WHAT?

Before he can turn his stricken face away, she catches his jaw and holds him in place, forcing him to meet her eyes, her scared uncertain not-sure-what-the-hell-is-going-on eyes. She HAS to know! She simply has to know what the f*#k he is talking about! C'mon, Richard! Speak English!

"Ruin what, Richard? Tell me. I'm ordering you to tell me!"

Her order is ludicrous. He knows this. She isn't the boss of me! But - this whole boss/subordinate thing - that's what's been holding me back, isn't it? Well, THAT plus my total ignorance of women. This is it, he realizes! This is the moment, our moment, and I have to say just the right thing, DO just the right thing. Else… he looks at her in abject foreboding, else it's all for naught.

His lips part… but they do not speak.

They gaze in suspended hope and dawning horror at one another. Is the moment passing them by? Will nothing save them? Can neither of them find the courage to act?

Then, unexpectedly, they hear a whisper… a whisper so quiet that they have to check twice to make sure the others lips aren't moving. Well, if THEY didn't say it then where did this whisper come from? They glance wildly about the room, peering into the jostling shadows that somehow seem too numerous for the amount of flickering candle light. The air suddenly feels heavy, velvety, close, full of unseen presence.

The sound of the storm pauses briefly, a lull, a chance to catch a breath, and the whisper repeats. They can tell they both heard it by the simultaneous widening of their eyes, by their synchronized leaning in towards one another, by the mutual parting of lips.

… very low… very deep… almost sepulchral… KISS … NOW…

It is an order that they both heartily and gratefully accept without further thought.

After that, everything falls into place as naturally as if choreographed.

Lots of glorious action and very little dialogue.

END – part 2

**OK, deus ex machina (ie. the Loa), I freely admit it. This solution was brain-stormed for me but I've long thought that Erzuli amuses itself at Richard's expense so I let it ride. Or maybe there's a long-game being set up. Either way, he's a goner and his fate is sealed despite his own thoughts on the matter.**