By Leapr
Copyright: March, 1998.
Second Revison: May 28th, 2002.
Third Revision: February 23th, 2007.
Ratings: (USA) T/M | (UK) PG | (AUS) PG/M.
Disclaimer: Although I don’t mention Xena or Gabrielle by name, I believe that you can tell I’m writing about them, so to make it legal, Robert Tapert, UNIVERSAL/MCA and RENAISSANCE PICTURES et al, have something to do with “Xena: Warrior Princess”. No copyright infringement is intended or inferred. The story along with any/all original characters are the sole property of the author and can not be used without expressed permission first.
Author’s Note: A couple of months ago (see original copyright date) I read an article on “Whoosh” , by S. Johnson. It described the relationship between Xena and Gabrielle more along the lines of a “Romantic Friendship.” I’ve had the opportunity to read a few stories that follow the same principle and decided to take a crack at it. I haven’t written any stories, and this may be my only attempt I’ll make. For the most part I usually write prose, but this story for lack of a better word, came to me while I caught myself staring into a Xena poster. I found I couldn’t take my eyes off it. I hope you’ll like my attempt. Thanks.
Second Author’s Note:(5-28-2002) I still haven’t written many Xena stories. I can’t seem to get a handle on their characters. There are so many author’s that have and continue to do so, and they have my heartfelt respect.
Third Note — February 23rd, 2007: I had only wanted to change the rating on the story when I noticed I hadn’t rated it in the first place. After rating the story I decided to re–read it and wouldn’t you know it, I changed and added to it. I believe it reads better than before.
I stare into the face that holds me prisoner.
With a single gesture, it could become impassive… cold as ice. Deadly, unforgiving and yet, in a blink of an eye… it could hold all you’ve ever wanted from another person.
Warmth, humor, love, tenderness… so many other emotions.
When did I first realize that this person; who is so much more than just a friend, cared for me as much as I did?
It wasn’t a single act that I can recall. It was many things. Small gestures that kept adding up, until one day it hit me smack in the face.
She cares for me.
Me.
I often find myself shaking my head at that thought. She’s been everywhere, done so many things, met so many people. Yet I…
I better not think too much about it. It might go to my head.
I sneak a look in her direction and realize, I have and still do, gaze on worldly perfection.
The scars, they don’t take away from the beauty I see before me, rather they enhance it — the paleness of those marks in sharp contrast on her bronze colored skin. I love the way a candle or a simple campfire, caresses her body. How the light dances across her. Mesmerizing me and everyone else.
How her eyes sparkle, as if some God on Olympus had plucked the stars out of the skies and placed them in this mortal version of the Elysian Fields on earth.
For when she looks at me, when she shows herself, allows the love she feels to flash across her eyes, I’m lost. I think my thoughts betray me…
For as if by magic, I can feel those eyes on me.
Watching the watcher.
I hide my head to keep the blush that is surely covering my face and neck from showing.
I must do better at hiding my feelings. I couldn’t stand the thought of having to leave because of some misplaced gaze or word, something that would change her mind. Make her realize how foolish she’d been taking me with her.
Make her decide it’s too dangerous for me.
Too dangerous for her. For she knows I will find a way to follow her.
My eyes flutter against my will as I feel Morpheus beckoning me and I fight off the waves of sleep that threaten to take me away; if only for a few hours, from my friend.
Taking me from her presence.
I need to be in her presence as much as a man dying from thirst would stumble to a mirage, if just for that brief second of fulfillment.
The fire crackles and the air is sweet with the perfume of lilacs. I can make out the scent of my friend with the slight breeze that makes its way across the campsite. Soap and a tiny hint of cinnamon? The combination that makes me inhale deeply, so that flows inside my body.
If only it was the air I needed to survive, for I would inhale it gladly.
Alas, the object of my heart’s desire is on the opposite side of me and I don’t move, lest I break the spell of this perfect night.
So, I think back to the brief touches and caresses we’ve shared. They are more than I can ever hope for, let alone dream of.
The words we speak for only each other… they touch the deepest part of my heart. And I cherish each and every one of them.
But, there are moments when no words can express how much we feel for one another. When those times descend upon us, we share one gesture that conveys everything…
A kiss.
Bound with all the emotions that can be poured into it, a meeting of two souls becoming one. Time stands still and I am re–born.
And I’ve been discovered again… as she calls out my name. I have a feeling it was the sigh. I smile shyly.
I gaze into those eyes, hoping that my love for this person shines through.
My heart flutters as the smile I receive in return finds itself buried deep into my soul.
After an encouraging word, I take my things and move closer. A sigh of contentment escapes me, as I am surrounded by loving arms. I feel the warmth of lips on my forehead.
A smile graces my face.
“Go to sleep,” I hear.
I nod, Morpheus weaves his magic and this time I don’t resist. I send a silent prayer to Apollo, in hopes that he will not begin his ride across the sky too hastily and take me away from the cocoon of love I am immersed in.
“Good night,” I whisper, as I drift off, smiling.
The End.