A/N: Alright everyone. I have another strong music suggestion with this chapter. Get on youtube and look up Ellie Goulding's 'The Writer'. This is the music Jane and Maura will dance to. It's a beautiful little song and I do hope you'll listen to it. It conveys a level of sweetness that I can only hope to depict with words. If you haven't suspected this by now...music is a monumental source of inspiration for me (must be why I spent five years getting a BA in music performance). Sometimes I'll be listening to a piece and the details of my next chapter will unfold in my mind. I'll end up replaying whatever song it is over and over and over and over...etc., until whatever I'm working on is completed. This is the case with the chapter you are about to read. I hope you enjoy it.
What should have been an approximately fifteen hour journey, turned into a twenty-three hour ordeal. Our layover in Dubai was extended after mechanical problems arose with our outbound aircraft.
I wasn't able to utilize my family's jet for this portion of our trip, so, I purchased first class tickets on a commercial flight. Sadly, the luxury seating did little to comfort us as we were trapped in the terminal, waiting for another plane to be assigned to our flightpath.
These events led to Jane and I arriving in London, England early this morning instead of early yesterday evening.
We were exhausted by the time we got to our hotel. We showered, changed into sleepwear, slid into our bed, curled up together, then fell into a deep sleep.
We slept soundly until late afternoon. I offered to order a meal to our room and stay in for the remainder of the day, but Jane wanted to stretch her legs and get her first look at the city.
I researched a few restaurants within walking distance of our accommodations and eventually made reservations at a place that sat on the River Thames.
After freshening up, we dressed in semi-formal wear, which I packed 'just in case', and walked to dinner. The air was rejuvenating and we enjoying the lights of the city as they flickered on with the setting sun.
The establishment is cozy and the atmosphere is intimate and relaxed. Tables and chairs border a fairly large open space that is located in the middle of the room; it must be utilized as a dance floor. The lighting is pleasantly dim and a quiet hum of conversation fills the air as patrons converse over their meal.
The food is wonderful. Although, my opinion could be a little skewed by the fact that we haven't had any sustenance in almost twelve hours. Jane and I focus on eating for most of our meal, but enjoy a more engaging conversation over dessert. We talk about our time in Thailand and make plans for our short stay in London.
Our chat comes to a comfortable pause as we both take time to allow our food to settle.
My gaze drifts to the informal dance floor. There are only a few people up and moving to the music playing through the speakers, but they look content. I smile as the happy couples get lost in each other's eyes and embraces.
I would love to join them. However, I know Jane has quite the aversion to dancing of any kind. So, I am thankful for the fact that she is here and she loves me and I watch others sway to the beat.
The current song comes to a conclusion and I hear a few piano chords mark the beginning of another.
And then...something remarkable happens. It's a miracle that I didn't even think to pray for. It's a dream come to fruition despite the fact that I had already laid it to rest. It's stunning.
A hand appears before me.
My eyes fall on a scarred palm and travel up to discover it attached to an olive toned wrist that disappears under the sleeve of a blazer. I let my gaze continue it's path until it locks onto the warm chocolate eyes of my lover.
She smiles. I'm not sure if what she says is a request or demand.
"Dance with me"
Request. Demand. It doesn't matter...because I will. I absolutely will.
I take hold of her offered hand and allow her to help me from my seat.
I expect her to keep us close to our table, but she turns around and leads me to the middle of the floor. The gesture almost makes me cry.
She's proud of me. She's showing me off.
I detect a hint of unease as she turns around and moves to embrace me. She's not uncomfortable with my body, this I know without a doubt. She just doesn't dance much and I'm sure she's never had to lead before.
I give her an encouraging smile as she keeps hold of my hand and puts her other on my hip. I step in close and place my free hand on her strong shoulder.
Once we are in place and begin to sway to the melody, I feel her relax. She pulls me a little tighter to her and I get lost in the loving depths of her gaze.
Is she the most skilled dance partner I have ever been with? No. Is our dance the most coordinated? No. Is this the most intricate music I have ever danced to? No.
Is this the best dance I have ever experienced in my entire life?
Yes. A thousand times, yes.
Beautiful images flow through my imagination like the watercolor paintings of a skilled artist.
I can see us dancing like this on the numerous dates we're sure to have in the future.
I can see us dancing like this at our wedding.
I imagine us dancing like this at the weddings of our children; children that I wasn't even aware I wanted until right now.
And I can picture us dancing just like this when we are old and gray and have shared a long and happy life together.
I see the same thoughts mirrored in her own eyes.
An overjoyed tear escapes from the corner of my eye. The smile I give her must be powerful because her facial features suddenly change. It transforms from complete and total happiness to awed in mere fractions of a second.
She is astounded. She brings her hand up from my hip to my face and gently dabs the lone tear away. She leaves her fingers at my cheek and begins to caress my flesh with the backs of them.
She's looking at me like a woman enchanted.
I confidently form an opinion based on mentally observed and analyzed data. We are not close enough.
I disengage our hands and drape both my arms behind her neck. I step in to press as much of my body against her own as I can. She places one hand, then the other on either side of my hips and begins stroking my skin through the material of my dress with her thumbs.
She lowers her head and I'm almost positive she's going to kiss me, but she simply takes the opportunity to slowly inhale. She's taking in my scent, committing this moment to every avenue of memory that she possesses.
When she is satisfied, she drops her forehead to rest against my own and closes her eyes. She lets out a contented sigh.
I let my own eyes slide shut and bask in the warmth of our embrace.
We may as well be floating through the cosmos. There is nothing around us; no other entities within a trillion light-year radius. We are our own galaxy, buoyant in the open void of space, drifting peacefully, propelled by the gravity of our love.
I become aware of a sensation that brings with it an all-encompassing feeling of safety, comfort, and bliss. I still feel Jane's physical touch...but there is something more. It's like she's an angel and has wrapped her wings around me. I am encased in a heavenly asylum. Nothing in my past can hurt me anymore; nothing in my future will ever get the chance to.
She is my own guardian angel and I am her willing charge.
Our song comes to an end and a more lively beat fills the air, yet we continue to gently sway.
I form another opinion...we are still not close enough. But it seems that it's our clothing that is keeping me from the closeness I desire.
I slide my lips to her ear and whisper a breathless benediction.
"I need you, Jane. Take me back to our room."
She pulls back and meets my hungry gaze. She reaches up to unclasp my hands from behind her head and brings them to her lips to press a tender kiss to the backs of each.
She is my protector and the keeper of my heart. She is my lover and my very best friend. With each smile and touch and declaration of love, she is creating a new and fulfilling life for me.
We gather our belongings and head back to the hotel. I braid our fingers together and walk hand in hand with the mender of my broken past, the defender of my very being, and the writer of my future.
A/N: I hope you need a glass of milk to wash down the sweet...or a glass of whatever if you're allergic to dairy (I am). Well...not too much longer now, they'll be heading back to Boston soon. Thank you, thank you, thank you for reading. I can't tell you how welcomed your feedback has made me feel as a fanfiction author. -SJR
Side Note: I'm always in search of music that will stimulate my muse. If you have a favorite song or artist, (doesn't matter what genre...I listen to and enjoy everything from classical to rock to rap to electronic) I'd be interested to know what it is. Who knows? It could inspire a one-shot or short story. If you would like to share, please feel free to PM me or just leave the name of the work and/or composer in the comments section. Thank you!