and after the bombs subside
and this campaign
calls it good for the night
we meet in the streets
will we meet in a bar's cold light?
we grip at our hands
we hold just a little tight
after the bombs
after the bombs
subside
and after the rockets calm
and the glimmer of fire
pretends an early dawn
we pinch at our skin
while we wonder how we
escaped harm
we forget all our trials
while there
in our baby's arms
after the rockets
after the rockets
calm
then we'll go dancing
won't we go dancing
yes we'll go dancing
'till it all
starts over again
then we'll go dancing
yes we go dancing
won't we'll go dancing
'till it all
starts over again
-
"I love it." She stares at the engagement ring glinting on her skinny finger. He smiles and plays with one of her raven strands.
"I'm glad." His voice is low and he pulls her into a loose embrace; he circles his thin arms around her waist and rests his large hands over the swollen skin of her abdomen.
She relaxes into his loose hug, placing the back of her skull on his shallow chest. They stand like that for a few minutes, watching the Paris skyline; their breathing is in sync with the blinking lights. "...we're never going to be safe." She feels him gulp and nod. "They're going to track you down and take you away from me," She pauses and places her hands over his. "And the baby."
He moves away from her, and she misses his warmth. "I know...but for the borrowed time I have..." She turns to him, not liking the sound his Russian accented voice carries. His dark grey eyes glisten with unshed tears. "I love you."
And they stand together in the darkened room, faces washed out by red and white lights.
-
The baby is born a month later, and they move to West Germany. The baby isn't officially given a name, only a letter. It was her idea. "He's going to be great one day." She strokes the edge of the baby's soft, pale skin. His own wide grey eyes watch his beautiful mother's face as he sucks a thumb.
He steps into the living room, carrying two cups of tea. She watches him take a long sip from his with a grimace covering her face. "I don't know why you drink it like that." A small smile plays at his mouth.
"Helps me think." And he taps at his temple with a finger.
-
It is three years later, back in England, when they are finally discovered. She had dropped the baby--toddler now--off at her neighbor's house. The woman is old, and her home smelled lightly of cat urine.
They're in the car when they hear the click. He rests his large hand over her's and squeezes. Then the explosion.
-
-
Well, angst for your new year. Inspired GREATLY by another fic centering around L's parents. L's dad is half Japanese, half Russian. He was raised by his father in Russia and became a member of the KGB. L's mother is a quarter French, a quarter English and a quarter Italian. She was raised by both her parents in England and became a member of the M-5.
After the Bombs--look it up on grooveshark or google. It's very good.
