Authors' Note: English is not my first language; it's German. This is the best I can do, so consider yourself warned. The spell-checker said everything's okay, but you know how trustworthy those thingies are.

You asked for it...

Lyrics of "The Moment You Were Mine" by Beth Nielsen Chapman ("You Hold the Key", Reprise Records 1993)

The Moment You Were Mine

I remember thinking love was a fool's game
Break your heart you've got your own self to blame
I've played it smart so many times but that's all changed
From the moment you were mine

People fall in love and swear they are so sure
Then they turn around and say it's over
I never trusted love to come any closer
Till the moment you were mine

One moment in time
And I knew why I had waited so long
One look in your eyes
Meant forever from that moment on

I used to dream somebody's arms were around me
Wake up alone and feel so empty
No I never dreamed how real love could be
Till the moment you were mine

When I open my eyes I feel two things: an incredible sensation of warmth, and a cramp in my back. Sheesh, I'm getting too old for this kind of night.

But then I realize why I have these cramps, and where the warmth comes from.

I have been fallen asleep on the floor, enveloped in a huge warm quilt and lots of pillows, in front of the fireplace in your condo. The fireplace we have been sitting in front of the other night, each nursing on a glass of exquisite red wine, after you had invited me back, into your home. And into your life?

I move cautiously, trying to stretch and moan when I feel every vertebra pop into place again. It is then I realize where the other source of warmth comes from, that one that not only warms my body but has started to thaw my frozen soul.

And then I remember.

I was sitting on the floor, leaning against the couch, enjoying both the excellent red wine and the company. When I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the cushions I heard you move, some clicking sound, some rustling that told me you were putting some more wood in the fire. Just like I had imagined it. I didn't know why I was back here exactly, all I knew was I wanted to go home hours ago when we indented to part at the backside of the bar, was already heading toward my car and shivering in the sudden chill that had me in its grip all of a sudden, freezing in the icy fingers of Colorado winter, when you called my name. I turned, thinking that maybe I had forgotten something, but then you pointed toward your car. I didn't understand at first, didn't dare to understand, yet hoped. I didn't want this evening to end, hell -- I didn't want this closeness we seemed to have found just this day to come to an end, ever. And then you tilted your head slightly, smirked at me -- and I was lost. Whatever you would want to offer, I'd take it. Whatever you would want to ask, I'd give it.

I smiled.

And took it.

We drove in silence. You put some CD in the player, and I listened to the soft slightly sad sound of a female voice, singing about loneliness and love, and I blinked in surprise. The kind of music one listens to says lots about the person, but I never figured you to be the -- well, melancholic type. On the other hand ... I shivered again, and you silently switched on the heater.

When we arrived at your condo you opened the door, inviting me in with a simple gesture. I stepped past you, and for a split second I could have sworn I'd feel your breath on my neck. I shook my head inwardly at my foolish thoughts. You smiled dimly and pointed toward the couch in a you-know-you're-way-around-gesture. I sat down and watched you ignite a fire in the open fireplace and then decant some red wine, serving it with fresh bread and cheese and putting it on the floor in front of the fireside. Before I could ask you went into your bedroom and returned with a quilt, laying it out on the floor. I know I gaped, it surprised me that much, but you simply smirked at me again and sat down, looking at me and pouring some wine into crystal glasses. I shook my head and joined you, took a glass - completely ignoring the sizzling sensation jolting through my body when your fingers brushed against mine - and stretched out on the warm quilt, taking a sip from the wine, a bite from the bread and felt -- after a very long time - like being one with the world once again. I refused to think about the following morning, JD, Chris, the office or the outside world in general. I was where I wanted to be, with whom I wanted to be. There was just a little drop of bitterness in this whole thing -- I enjoyed the taste of the wine, but I rather would have tasted something else.

When I realized where my mind was wandering I mentally slapped my own wrist. I wouldn't allow anything to destroy this fleeting moment of peace, no way. I felt myself relax from the inside warmth of the wine and the outside warmth of the fire. I noticed the way the soft light made your eyes shimmer like dark green jade with golden sparkles in them, or how it reflected highlights in your auburn hair, and I looked away immediately. This moment was too precious, the mood too fragile, to destroy it with inappropriate thoughts or impossible wishes.

I sighed in contentment and closed my eyes. And listened to you stand up, move around, strike a match. Until your sounds and your movement stopped.

When I opened my eyes to see what had happened I saw you standing in front of me, looking down at me. You were simply looking, but I felt my heart skip a beat before it received a kick-start, increasing its speed by the double, making the blood rush in my ears. Suddenly the world was reduced to only one thing: your eyes on me. Everything seemed to sharpen though, the scent of the burning resin or the bouquet of the wine, the way the fabric of the quilt felt smooth under my hands, or the light of the candles you had lit reflected in your eyes. All you had done was look at me, for Christ's sake! But there was something in your eyes, in your expression I just couldn't identify, not if my life depended on it. I know something had happened that particular moment, something fundamental. I think the earth stopped moving for a second.

When you moved again, slowly, graceful, almost leisurely, without breaking the eye contact, and sat down at my side I noticed I must have stopped breathing, because I inhaled deeply like a man drowning. And drowning I was. You were that close I could feel the heat radiate from your body, almost tingling on my skin, and I inhaled your scent, and it was like I had imagined it: warm and homey like cedar wood and cinnamon and spice and wild honey and it mixed with all the other scents, the burning wood, the wine, and it made my head swim. And you kept looking at me the entire time with this unreadable expression and I think you must have been able to look into my very soul.

My world seized to exist, my every sense concentrated on you: all I could see was your eyes, all I could smell was that intermingling of spice and honey that was you, and all I could do was watch you, literally mesmerized, when you were leaning toward me in slow motion, and then you raised your hand and your fingertips brushed the skin of my temple and I think I must have shuddered at the sensation of this gentle touch and then ... the last rational thought fled my mind when your lips met mine in the most tender kiss I have ever experienced and I closed my eyes because it was better than I have ever fantasized about, though you were barely touching me, and I know I must have opened up under you because I remember I finally tasted you and that was even better than my wildest dream and I think it was because it wasn't wild but sweet and caring and tender and compassionate and ... I had to breath.

When I carefully opened my eyes and dared to inhale you were still there and you were still watching me and your hand was still at the back of my head and your fingertips were massaging my neck and where your skin touched mine it tingled in the most pleasurable way and I don't know what I did but I think I must have leaned into that touch or maybe I reached out myself because I remember the feeling of my fingers running through your hair when I pulled you close or was it that you pulled me? Honestly I don't care since it doesn't count at all. I remember your arms around me when I ended up in them, leaning back against you, my head on your shoulder, and I held my breath in the sudden fear that I was dreaming or you'd change your mind or this was just a bad joke of live and it would simply turn around, laugh at my stupidity and give me the bird or something. But you closed your arms around me and then I did feel your breath on my neck and your heartbeat and - it was real. I turned my head to look at you, and you smiled at me, and I stroked your arms, and you brushed your lips against my temple and -- you were real. The fire was crackling, there was some wine left, I was warm and secure in your arms and when I gazed outside the large window it had started to snow. I was home.

It is where I still am, because additionally to the quilt wrapped around me there are you. And I still feel your breath tingling on the skin of my neck and I still feel your heartbeat and your arms. I must have woken you because you start to stir as well, snuggling even closer, your lips barely touching my neck, and this time it's not the cold that makes me shiver. On the contrary, so to speak. Got me a hot-blooded southerner to warm me up.

I roll on my back and you shift with me, propping your head on one elbow and look down at me. Your hand plays lazy circles on my chest and I feel like I could turn into a melted puddle at the expression on your face. You look a little dishevelled and rumpled and I don't think I ever saw you that open and vulnerable -- almost edible. I can't help it, I reach up, enjoy the feeling of your silken hair under my fingers as I run my hands through your auburn strands, ruffling them a little further, and gently pull your head down into a warm good-morning-kiss. Your lips touch mine and it is a rerun of yesterday's events -- only that I'm absolutely more clear-headed then I was the other night. I feel your body stretched against mine, and when you break the kiss you lay your head on my chest and I wrap my arms around you, stroking your back almost dreamily. You sigh softly and look up at me, smile at me faintly.

"I need a shower. And so do you."

"That an invitation?"

"Buck, I want to get clean, not dirty."

"What's wrong with that?"

"Principally nothing. But not today. Besides, you should get yourself a shower, too, and a shave. We can have breakfast together, but then you will have to get home."

I blink. Is this what I think it is? Don't you want me here?

"Ez ... "

"Buck, you've been wearing these clothes for two days and JD might get worried by now, don't you think?"

I hate it when you get reasonable.

"All right, all right. You gonna let me up then?"

"Of course."

You scramble to your feet with the same grace you had shown yesterday, and it takes my breath away again, so all I can do is prop up on my elbows and watch you. You stretch out a hand and pull me to my feet, giving me a short shove into the bathroom's direction.

"You know your way around."

I stroll toward the bathroom and I think I display the hugest grin I ever felt. Yep, I know my around all right. Now I do.

We are sitting at the breakfast table just like yesterday, sipping coffee just like yesterday -- yet entirely different. Everything's different, and I dare to feel this little flicker of hope inside me...

"Buck, when you come back we have to talk."

Oh great. And here I thought only women know how to drop a bucket of ice water over a man's head.

"Ez ... "

You lift your hand at me, and I notice your expression has become serious again. Shoot ...

"No. This is important. If this ... I want to be honest with you. I need to know what you expect from me. And then -- there's something you need to know about me."

I sigh.

It has been too good to be true.

~ Fini, so far ~