Dance With Me
AUTHOR: Lucky.
DISCLAIMER: Except for the creations of the author, all characters, characterizations, situations, and locations described in this unsolicited and not-for-profit work of fiction are the property of ABC Television, Capitol Cities, Inc., Steven Bochco Productions, the many talented people who created the world of NYPD Blue, and the actors who have made that world such a lively place. The author would also like to extend her personal gratitude to Mr. Scott Cohen for his light, his vitality, his inspiration, and for being such a compelling muse. Thank you, sir.
FEEDBACK: To Lucky
Posey opened her eyes and tried to stretch out, her waking groan turning into a twin set of pained squeals.
From somewhere over her head, Matthew's voice came in a sleepy, startled grumble. "What..?" Leathery squeak. "Ow."
She turned her head, pressing her face against his chest with a sigh. "We are officially Stuck To The Couch."
His deep chuckle rumbled through his chest. "Considering the circumstances, it could be worse."
She fluttered her eyes at him, feeling his breath catch a little as her lashes tickled him. "How did we get here, may I ask?"
"Well," his fingers stroked her shoulder as he spoke, "in the Beginning, there was darkness..."
She slapped his chest lightly. "Matthew!"
He giggled, continuing in a playful singsong. "And then I met you, and by some bizarre twist of miraculously good fortune, you let me make love to you. Then we got stuck to the couch. Everything else is pretty much details."
She lifted her head a little, smiling up into his eyes, matching his lilt with her own. "I may have to leave some skin behind, but I'm getting the hell away from you right now."
He managed to catch a lock of her hair in his hand, toying with it as he spoke. "You're so cute when you patronize me."
Posey put a good amount of her weight into his solar plexus, lifting herself painfully off the couch as he grunted beneath her. "I'm gonna beat the crap out of you in a second. Let's see how cute I am then." Finally, she stood before him and stretched out.
He let out an appreciative breath. "Wow." She smiled, lowering a hand to him. "Come on."
"I think I can get out of a couch by myself."
"Not this couch. Come on."
He heaved a sigh and took her offered hand, pulling himself up as both he and the couch complained about it. "Was this at all a consideration when you were in the furniture showroom with this bad boy?"
She rolled her eyes and hauled him upright. "No. I knew I wasn't dumb enough to get naked and sleep on it."
He blew a raspberry at her and stretched himself out, his fingertips brushing the ceiling.
She planted her hands on her hips and shook her head at him. "Well I love you too, Matthew."
He grinned at her, bringing his arms down around her and curling his shoulders in as he hugged her. "I know you do." He gave her a gentle kiss. "Good morning."
"Good morning. You sleep okay?"
"You mean aside from being completely immobilized by the Couch of Death? Like a baby. You?"
"On a baby," she grumbled, taking a snap at his nose. He pulled his head back and released her with a giggle. She reached down for her robe, having to flap his hand away from her backside as she did. "I don't have a whole lot of men's clothing, so you'll have to put that pile over there back on until you get back to your place."
He turned to regard last night's wardrobe with some distaste. "I don't know. I... I'm feeling kind of... naked today. I don't know why. I just... I'm naked." He grinned at her, holding his arms up in a shrug.
She gave him a polite smile. "Thank you. I noticed." She pulled the tie on her robe closed with a yank as he rolled up on her again. He gathered her up in his arms again, rubbing his body against her like a cat, and she swore he was purring as he spoke to her.
"You're very cuddly, you know that?"
"Mm-hm. Are you cuddling with me or my robe, here?"
He smiled. "It's a nice robe. The fact that you're in it is just a really, really big plus." He slid his jaw along hers, actually purring now, rolling his tongue in tiny vibrations against her ear.
She giggled, pressing her ear down to her shoulder and pushing him away. "Stop it! That tickles!"
"Really..." He snatched her up again, turning her to pull her back against his chest, sliding his arms around to toy with the tie of her robe as he purred in her ear. She sighed through her giggles, resigning herself with joy to the fact that he was going to have his way with her again.
He'd just managed to get her robe undone when a little stream of electronic beeping interrupted him, and his purring melted away in a low, frustrated groan.
Posey cocked her head a little. "That's a phone."
"Yes, it is," he muffled against her shoulder.
"It's not my phone."
He put his head alongside hers and planted a kiss on her cheek. "No, it's mine." He sighed and released her. "How could he not know where I am?"
"What?"
Matthew went to where he'd left his coat slung over the back of the couch the night before, pulling a little cellphone from the left-hand pocket. He opened his mouth as if to speak to her, then smiled as though he'd just remembered something. Shaking his head a little, he flipped the phone open.
"Grayling... No... No... Can I ask you something? Do you or do you not have protection on me? Mm-hm... mm-hm... Well, I was wondering because you don't seem to have me located right now. Mm- hm... mm-hm... Hey, here's a familiar phrase: I'm not at liberty to say... No, I'm not... Because I have a life." Matthew's mouth dropped open at whatever the person on the other end said, and he smiled roundly at Posey. "Well, god willing, but I said a life. Ell eye eff ee. Life... Yes, I heard what you thought I said, and believe me, it's become a concern of mine recently... Yes..? You did? Where is she..?" A little shadow of remorse fell over Matthew's face as he conversed. "Yes... good. Good. Phoenix is nice and warm and she'll have plenty of space to herself. She'll be happy there... What? No. No I don't. I don't think it would be... No..." He let out a little hiss. "No! As much as I might want to, believe me, it's not what she needs. Not now, and not ever..." He pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned a little. "I don't know... tell her he's dead... Seriously. Tell her that Harry Denby was killed in a... in a prison riot or something. Make it sound bad. Tell her he suffered for what he did, and..." Matthew dropped his hand to his side and let his eyes fall shut, speaking in a low monotone. "And tell her he loved her." Matthew snapped the phone shut and pressed it against his mouth, his eyes still closed. As Posey waited, he spoke to someone who wasn't there in a silent whisper.
"I still love you." He stood for a moment, then turned to drop the phone back into his jacket pocket, catching Posey's questioning gaze in the process. All of a sudden, he was too naked.
Without a word, he walked over to his clothes and pulled on his boxers and jeans. As soon as he was dressed enough to feel unexposed, he raised his eyes to Posey's.
"I guess you have a question."
She shook her head slowly. "Not if you don't want me to."
"I think..." he began, gathering his breath a little as he came to take her hands in his. "I think I do." He pressed his lips together and nodded a little, looking somewhat shell-shocked. "Yeah... I do."
She slipped a hand out of his and lifted it to smooth back a lock of hair that had fallen over his forehead. "What happened to you?"
He smiled in spite of himself, laughing softly. "Oh, is that all?"
She returned his smile gently, still playing with his hair. "Why don't I make some breakfast and you can tell me what you need to tell me, okay?"
He stared at her as if he expected her to vanish into light and nothing. Then, in a voice that sounded beyond his control, "I really love you."
She smiled up at him for a moment, then turned to lead him into the kitchen. He held her fast, forcing her to turn back to him.
"Really."
Posey moved as if she were pulled, putting herself firmly into his body and rocking him back on his heels with her embrace. He folded himself around her and she muffled a whisper into his bare chest. "My own dear heart... I love you so much."
She ate in silence, watching his melon cubes encroach upon his scrambled eggs as he pushed his breakfast around his plate.
"You're not hungry?"
He tossed her a dark glance, speaking without thinking. "I don't like either of the foods you've served me, so I must not be that hungry." He dropped his head a little, dragging out a sigh. "Sorry, I'm just..."
She set her fork down, laying a gentle hand on his arm. "Shh. It's okay. What would you like?"
He flirted his lashes at her with a little smile. "Oatmeal, maybe?"
She pushed herself back from the table. "Regular or apple-cinnamon?"
"Plain, please." He pushed his plate towards her and she took it away as she stood, carrying it into the kitchen and setting it in the sink. She could hear the rasp of his palms over his unshaven face behind her as he groaned into his hands. "I gotta get that asshole out of this relationship."
"Who?" she asked, trying to sound nonleading as she rattled around, fixing his oatmeal.
"Harry Denby."
She shrugged a little. "He was kind of a jerk, but I liked him okay."
Matthew gave a little 'hmph'. "He was only kind of a jerk to you because that's as far as I let him go with you." He propped his jaw up on his fist as he watched her. "I let that insecure little limp jerkoff destroy enough of my life."
Posey placed the bowl with the instant mix and milk into the microwave, punching in the time and starting the cycle. Turning back to Matthew, she leaned on the counter between them. "How did he do that?"
His eyes slid shut. "I was in love with her... Diane. Me. I fell in love with her. And he... he just napalmed her entire existence." He dropped his hands onto the table and spread them out, studying his long fingers. "And she knew. Somewhere inside her, she knew that I was someone else..." He smiled a little. "She was so smart."
"What did you do?"
He glanced up at her. "I panicked. It was so... stupid." A bitter little chuckle came out of him. "Filled with more stupidity." He studied the wall across the kitchen, addressing the absent woman directly. "It is that, isn't it, Diane?"
She watched in silence for a moment, then heard the microwave shut down. Taking out his oatmeal, she pulled a spoon from her silverware drawer and returned to the table.
"Thank you." As she sat, he took her hand, looking into her eyes, continuing to ignore breakfast. "She was just like you."
"How's that?"
"Strong... totally fearless, loyal, determined. And she was so beautiful." He cast his eyes down, talking more to himself than to her. "I just wanted to be there and be proud of her and care for her and I just couldn't do it."
"Why?"
He opened his eyes wide for a second, delivering the word in a thick, dull, mocking voice. "Denby."
"I saw good in him."
Matthew shook his head hard. "No, you saw me in him. He is just a raving psychotic with a drinking problem and a coke monkey." He pattered his fingertips against her wrist for a moment, thinking. "I never thought it would ever happen again, but I promised myself that if I ever got the chance to love someone again, I wasn't going to let Harry Denby anywhere near her."
"I think you're missing the point."
He fluttered his eyes impatiently at her. "Which is?"
Posey took his hand in both of hers. "I loved him. I loved him anyway. I loved him regardless. I saw how people looked at you when they thought you couldn't see. I heard what they said and how they acted and I didn't care. Matthew Grayling isn't as far removed from Harry Denby as you might want to believe. You may not want to hear it, but I know better. Harry didn't just float in out of nowhere and take over. You made him. Everything he is is something inside you. There may be parts of Matthew that aren't Harry, but there was never any part of Harry that isn't Matthew. I don't love you despite Harry.
"I love him because I love you... all of you."
He blinked rapidly, his eyes starting to shimmer, but still he begged the question. "Why? Why would you love someone like me?"
"Because I can."
She watched in silence as his eyes filled up and spilled over, feeling him squeeze her hand tight. Without another word, he stood up, pulling her to her feet and into his arms. They stood, woven together in the midmorning sunlight, each wrapped in the body of the only one ever to keep the promise.
"I was wrong," he whispered. "I was wrong... you're nothing like her."
"Why?"
"I never could have loved her the way that I love you."
Continued in Part 6.
