Fic - Starting Points
“Let’s get out of the city.”
Boulder’s not much of a city, but he agrees with her. Tall buildings and bright lights still trigger headaches and memories, two things he keeps trying to escape. They take his truck out to a forest preserve, bumping along a few dirt roads before they find a good clearing where the stars spread out for miles over the horizon. Fall is quickly turning into winter and the air is crisp, clear and heavily chilled. He spreads a blanket out on the truck bed and they lean against the cab while looking up.
Like a lot of the information in his head, he doesn’t know how he knows the constellations. He just knows if he’s got a clear view of the sky anywhere in the world he can find his way home. She listens the way she always does, her eyes aren’t looking at him but he knows he has her full attention. She’s always given him her whole attention. It was unsettling at first, especially because of her skill set. They were past that now, past circling each other like wolves as she said.
He was comfortable with her presence in his life. He trusted her to the point where he could do this. A few months ago, even a few weeks, he wouldn’t have gone anywhere this secluded with her. His self-preservation just wouldn’t have allowed it. This trust between them was new, but deepening.
She shivers in her heavy wool coat and inches closer, her arm pressing against his. He lifts his and lets her duck under it. She curls into his side with a few easy moves and they settle again. He should not get attached or feel affectionate towards her, but he does. He still dreams of Marie and the river, watching her float away over and over again. Lily could easily die. Bullets don’t discriminate.
It’s been two years since his last intimate contact with a woman, his last intimate contact with anyone. His last “friend” was Pam and she is climbing the ladder at Langley. He doesn’t contact her, he doesn’t go looking for Nicky. He stays in Boulder and pretends to be John, a construction worker. Lily is his only real connection in two years. It was cold when he met Marie too.
“What did you tell Rose?” he asks, stilling looking at the stars.
“That we were running away together. She expects a post card.”
He smiles and knows without looking that she is smiling too. She is one of the few people who can make him smile.
“We’ll check at the ranger station before we go.”
She laughs softly, turning her face into his jacket. He looks down, meets her eyes and feels that sense of something, a little tightening in his chest. He ignores it most of the time. He wasn’t sure he was ready. Tonight he is. He leans down that little bit of distance between them and presses his lips to hers.
Both of their lips are chapped and dry from the cold, but it’s not really a kiss where that matters. It’s just the feel of his lips against hers, a start before he draws back and looks back at the stars. She tucks her head under his chin without a word. They watch the stars until it’s too cold. Then it’s a climb back into the cab, drive back to Boulder and go their separate ways.
It’s a start.
Boulder’s not much of a city, but he agrees with her. Tall buildings and bright lights still trigger headaches and memories, two things he keeps trying to escape. They take his truck out to a forest preserve, bumping along a few dirt roads before they find a good clearing where the stars spread out for miles over the horizon. Fall is quickly turning into winter and the air is crisp, clear and heavily chilled. He spreads a blanket out on the truck bed and they lean against the cab while looking up.
Like a lot of the information in his head, he doesn’t know how he knows the constellations. He just knows if he’s got a clear view of the sky anywhere in the world he can find his way home. She listens the way she always does, her eyes aren’t looking at him but he knows he has her full attention. She’s always given him her whole attention. It was unsettling at first, especially because of her skill set. They were past that now, past circling each other like wolves as she said.
He was comfortable with her presence in his life. He trusted her to the point where he could do this. A few months ago, even a few weeks, he wouldn’t have gone anywhere this secluded with her. His self-preservation just wouldn’t have allowed it. This trust between them was new, but deepening.
She shivers in her heavy wool coat and inches closer, her arm pressing against his. He lifts his and lets her duck under it. She curls into his side with a few easy moves and they settle again. He should not get attached or feel affectionate towards her, but he does. He still dreams of Marie and the river, watching her float away over and over again. Lily could easily die. Bullets don’t discriminate.
It’s been two years since his last intimate contact with a woman, his last intimate contact with anyone. His last “friend” was Pam and she is climbing the ladder at Langley. He doesn’t contact her, he doesn’t go looking for Nicky. He stays in Boulder and pretends to be John, a construction worker. Lily is his only real connection in two years. It was cold when he met Marie too.
“What did you tell Rose?” he asks, stilling looking at the stars.
“That we were running away together. She expects a post card.”
He smiles and knows without looking that she is smiling too. She is one of the few people who can make him smile.
“We’ll check at the ranger station before we go.”
She laughs softly, turning her face into his jacket. He looks down, meets her eyes and feels that sense of something, a little tightening in his chest. He ignores it most of the time. He wasn’t sure he was ready. Tonight he is. He leans down that little bit of distance between them and presses his lips to hers.
Both of their lips are chapped and dry from the cold, but it’s not really a kiss where that matters. It’s just the feel of his lips against hers, a start before he draws back and looks back at the stars. She tucks her head under his chin without a word. They watch the stars until it’s too cold. Then it’s a climb back into the cab, drive back to Boulder and go their separate ways.
It’s a start.