Simplicity
AUTHOR: Kristin.
DISCLAIMER: Most Characters belong to ABC and the talented writers of NYPD Blue.
FEEDBACK: To Kristin
"A day for lovers."
There, on her desk, the words shouted out from a white envelope sitting
beside a tiny gold box of Godiva truffles. She glanced up and noticed PAA
John grinning warmly at her, and went to thank him without even opening the
note.
"That's sweet, John..." she began, getting ready to give him a small hug.
"No, no, Detective Russell. It's not from me, thought I wish I had thought of it. It is Valentine's Day and you certainly deserve gifts of all kinds. Some other person had it delivered by courier first thing this morning."
Her heart jumped, "Courier?"
"Yes, she left immediately and didn't say who it was from," he shrugged.
"Oh, right. Okay."
John noticed her passing disappointment and added, "I guess you'll just have to open it to discover the sender's identity."
Her eyes didn't match the laugh she made as she crossed back to her desk, and John tried not to worry as he got back to answering the phone.
It had been nearly three weeks since her meeting with Harry down at the river and with each day that passed, her thoughts went back to him. Whenever she was out, she noticed courier vans everywhere and chided herself for straining to find a shock of thick black hair among the bustling personnel. But there was no trace of him. Last week she had actually called the Narcotics division from her cell phone, thinking that he may have been reinstated. He wasn't there and since then, pangs of regret had become part of her daily experience.
She fiddled with her silver, heart shaped earrings with one hand and tried to think of something else. Only John remained in the station house at the moment. All the others were either out on a case or having an early lunch.
Things continued to be strained with Danny. There seemed to be storm following him wherever he went. Any communication that their job forced them into was brief and completely void of eye contact. He'd become increasingly agitated with everyone and everything and had finally taken a few days off at Andy's insistence. She hated to admit it, but it was easier for her to work with him out of the way for a while. Now, as Diane fingered the little golden offering on her desk, she wondered if he was reaching out again to her, for help? For friendship? For what she couldn't give?
Taking a deep breath, she lowered the note into her lap discretely and opened it.
"Diane,
I miss you. Please come to me, tonight,
8:00 at the Aquarium."
It was typed and had no signature. A spark of intrigue, laced with dread shot up her back and around her rib cage, causing a slight flush to bloom on her ivory skin. She tucked the note into her desk, swiped her hair back and settled in for a very long day.
The evening found Diane alone, picking at the food on her dinner plate halfheartedly, even though she had skipped lunch. Her stomach hurt, but she couldn't tell if it was from hunger or anxiety. Work had been uneventful for a holiday; A heated landlord tenant dispute alleging extortion, a couple that was robbed on their way out of a jewelry store...not the usual outrageous crimes committed on the special days that make some people thankful for love and others wild with pain. Still, it was busy and enough to keep her mind off of the passing hours and the chocolate offering on her desk.
She forced herself to swallow another bite of fettuccine and chicken, then shoved the plate away. With one more hour to wait, her mind raced with the possibilities of the mysterious note. Who had sent it? Should she just stay home and about the person who had been rude enough to remain annonymous? Instead of wasting energy pacing again, she went to the bathroom and washed the remains of the day off of her face.
As Diane examined the tiny flaws in her reflection her thoughts continued to swim. The effort that life took was aging her. She could see it. In her youth she had toyed with the idea of modeling, but now... what she once regarded as a finely structured and well balanced face looked old and lifeless with no joy to animate it.
Her trembling fingers traced the outline of her mouth, then along her jaw. What she saw in the mirror was the sad, tired countenance of her mother weighed down by hopelessness. It was almost as if the maternal image was superimposed over her own...a view into the spiritual reality of her heart. A death mask. Captivated and horrified, she stared into her past and future at the same time.
Finally, she dropped her head and gripped the edge of the sink. Emotion fought to overtake her, drying and tightening her throat until she gasped with thirst. This was the scourge of alcoholism and it came her at times like a devouring animal, relentless and powerful...pervading her thoughts and her body.
With a strangled whimper she turned on both faucets and plunged her hands into the water, splashing the flood over her eyes. The sound and feel of the water invaded her senses giving her the split second she needed to turn the car of her mind around, away from the edge. When she looked up, the image had changed. There she stood, like frightened child coming in from a sudden thunder shower. Her face and hair, even her shirt, were wet. The clock in the living room startled her by chiming faithfully on the half hour and she realized she had only 15 mintues to dry off and change before she had to leave.
Aquarium hours: 10:00 AM to 6:00 PM.
Diane read the sign again, just be certain, and then scanned the empty parking lot for signs of life. Seeing nothing, she approached the double doors of the main entrance with caution keeping her hand on the small gun tucked into the waistband of her jeans. To her surprise, the door opened easily with a pull and she stepped inside.
"You must be Detective Russell," a portly janitor said as he coiled up an orange extension cord next to a huge vacuum cleaner. He was standing just inside the main foyer, apparently just finished with his work.
"Yes, um...were you waiting for me?" she asked, squinting and trying to adjust to the half lighted darkness of the interior. The main overhead lights were off, but an erie blue-green glow emanated from the hallways leading to the displays.
He chuckled, "Sort of, he just told me to wait here until 8:30... that another Detective, a very pretty one named Russell, would be along." She could hear him smiling as he said "pretty", but couldn't really see his mouth behind the overhanging mustache her wore.
"Another Detective, huh? Where is he now?"
"Down at the Sea Cliff's exhibit," he propped the machine back and wheeled it over to a closet in the corner near the front doors. "The Security Guard knows your here, he'll be up in the monitoring office if you need him. Have a good night, now! " And with that, he shut and locked the door from the outside.
Diane stood with her mouth agape for a few minutes, turning in circles and listening to the strange watery noises. With no other choice, she found the sign pointing to the Sea Cliff's exhibit and began her search for her mysterious Valentine.
Glorious fish of every shape, color and size floated past in the long hallways. Moon Jellies bobbed rhythmically in their tank like bubbles in fancy white dresses, and long stems of kelp rose to the ceiling. Even the sharks seemed less menacing and more magical, gliding along in their effortless fluidity. The journey through the dark menagerie made her feel a bit like Alice in Wonderland.
It was warm and humid and Diane shed her jacket as she walked, hanging it over her arm. Everywhere along the way were glass windows, filled with creatures, moving and swarming like living pictures. She came to the end of the hallway and pushed through another set of double doors, and found herself in deeper darkness.
Then it hit her...a new scent. Not the salty, slightly moldy aroma of the old aquarium, but a fresh and heavenly floral. It was everywhere, and as her eyes adjusted to the dark she could see small pale spots on the carpet under her feet. She bent down and picked one of the spots up, "Flower petals," she whispered in astonishment. And with the scent came a faint sound of crashing, rushing water...like an intermittent waterfall at the end of a trail.
With growing delight, Diane made her way through the dark toward a sound of waves somewhere ahead of her. Hundreds, no thousands, of petals were strewn about her feet and in a moment of impulse, she kicked off her shoes and socks and wrapped them up in her jacket. The soft flowers tickled her bare feet and the smell of plumeria, roses, gardenia and lilly saturated the air. Her fanciful carpet led her to a dimly lighted expanse; the Sea Cliff's exhibit.
It stretched out before her; three hundred feet long and splashing with waves that seemed impossible for an indoor exhibit, just like a Pacific coast beach.... in bloom. For everywhere were bunches of colorful flowers; stuck in the sand, draped over rocks and spilling over smooth beach logs. Man-made cliffs that rose up to the ceiling on either side had nesting sea birds which were bedded down but still calling to each other.
She set down her jacket, side arm, and shoes on a bench with a gasp of amazement. Then, as if on cue, soft strains of music began to float over the water toward her. The volume increased ever so slightly and she recognized the sounds of Glenn Miller and "Moonlight Serenade".
"All right, I'm impressed," she called out to the waves. "I am truly impressed!"
From directly behind her she heard a familiar male voice, "I hope you're hungry,too."
Diane spun around to see a figure leaning against the wall of the entryway. She couldn't make out anything but an outline and approximate height in the heavy shadow, but the voice was unmistakable.
"Harry, why have you...what is this for?"
He stayed undercover, "I just thought, you've had such a hell of a year...you deserved a little bit of heaven to sort of balance things out."
"It's...beautiful, really incredible, Harry...." She gazed into the black he was hiding in, "How did you... Where have you been?"
"Always so full of questions," he interrupted softly. "Shhhhhhh, I'm just glad you came."
She stood transfixed as he approached her. His black polo shirt was open collared to the third button and tucked in loosely to his old Levi's. Like her, Harry was barefoot and made no sound as he strolled through the petals in her direction.
"Thank you, Diane," he said inches from her, "for accepting my invitation to dinner."
"Oh, is that what this is...a date?" she countered as she pushed up the sleeves of her knit, pink shirt.
He walked around her, brushing her arm lightly to see if she would recoil away from him. "A few flowers, a little take out, some completely innocent beverages...it's just a warm evening at the beach in good company."
"Yes, I see...can you be good for a whole evening, Harry?"
A wicked smile sparkled in his ocean blue eyes and he paused for effect before leaning down to answer her, "Can't you see I'm dying to try?"
As they enjoyed Harry's version of take out food: smoked salmon, sliced baguettes dipped in cilantro laced olive oil, and chunks of tropical fruit on skewers, he explained to her how he'd arranged the evening with the Aquarium staff, and how a certain Security guard owed him a favor, and why, when he was a kid, this was his favorite place to go to escape. She inturn, told him of her favorite summer at the beach in Texas when she was ten. They talked and ate for over an hour, feeling as if the grime of the city police work had been washed away with the waves.
Diane stretched out on the fleece blanket he had brought and groaned, "Ooohhhh, sigh I always eat too much when I'm caught up in conversation."
The thin material of her snug shirt stretched with her and Harry felt like groaning too as he watched. Instead, he popped open another bottle of water and concentrated on stuffing a wedge of lime into the small opening at the top. It didn't work very well and Harry knew he must talk about something else or be overcome with the urge to indecently proposition her then and there.
"I'm back at Narcotics now. "
Diane propped herself up on her elbows, "You are? But when I called last week they said..." She stopped when she saw the deeply satisfied look on his face, and realized she had just informed him of just how badly she'd wanted to see him too. Sheepishly, Diane turned her attention to shaking the sand out of the food containers.
Harry leaned back and folded his hands behind his head, "Yes well, Lieutenant Powell thought he'd use my recent absence to his advantage and put me in a situation that involves a bit of skull duggery."
"Hmmm-mmm? On a case again?" she questioned while sampling the chocolate from the bottom of the basket.
"Yes, but our PAA is prone to gossip." The thought sparked a tidbit of etymology that Harry just couldn't resist sharing, "Did you know that the word tongue is feminine in Greek, Latin, Italian, Spanish, French and German? Anyway, and as far as SHE knows I'm just comin' in every few days to beg forgiveness and say twenty hail Mary's."
"She thinks you need absolution, huh?"
"Her and about eleven other people in the department," he sighed and stroked her hand with his fingertips. "Still, you know it could be a lot worse, A lot worse. Looking back with what I admit is a bit of a rose colored perspective, one could say that in our situation involving Don; the good guys won, the bad guys went to their reward, and those who tend toward inebriation have been given a new reason to stay on the wagon."
"I didn't know you had such a knack for finding silver linings."
Harry toyed with a bunch of gladiola's at his feet,"Those who go to great depths are often capable of great heights as well, and I'm convinced that the fates have sent angel to take me there."
Whether it was his rich voice, or his feathery touch she didn't know, but Diane was beginning to overheat. She fought to reconcile this gorgeous, thoughtful man with all the other persona's he had shown to her over the past year. He could be desperately dark, taunting her with poetic philosophies and suicidal flights of fancy. He could expertly manipulate people and situations to a better end, even if his means were insanely complicated. He was mysteriously hidden and too honest at the same time. Simply put, Harry Denby bothered her in every way.
The conversation lulled while the music and water continued to set the mood. He quietly drew invisible vines down her fingers and then swirling circles along her wrist and up her delicate arm. Waves crept up the shoreline and receded, flowers flaunted their hypnotic aroma and Diane's quickening pulse made her feel warm and lightheaded.
With considerable effort, she blurted out, "Beluga's..."
Not quite hearing her, Harry still stroked her skin and said, "Come again?"
"Beluga's...Uh, they have them here don't they?"
"Yes..." he answered slowly. "They're over on the other side of the complex."
She sat up and cleared her throat, "Take me there."
Harry's changeable eyes bore into hers with azure fire. His own heart was beating rapidly and the thought of trudging over to the damp whale tank was the last thing he wanted to do with her. But before he could protest, she stood up and took a few steps backward and held her breath.
"What...Now? You want to go now?"
Diane glanced to the side and saw the "Whales, This Way" sign above the opposite corridor and then looked back to Harry, who was staring with his mouth open. She cocked her head, grinned playfully and yelled, "Race ya!" just before bolting into the darkness.
Exhilarated and half afraid of running face first into a wall, Diane made her way through the maze of turns, feeling her way in the darker shadows and then running full speed when a bit of light from one of the tanks offered illumination. She would stop, panting and gasping, to get her bearings and then shoot off again in her nimble bare feet. It had been years since she had felt so childish and silly. The freedom of it gave her wings.
Harry looked like a cool and lithe panther, waiting a few minutes before rising from his spot on the beach. He picked through the basket and found a semisweet truffle, popped it in his mouth and started to jog slowly down a different corridor. The benefits of childhood memories come in handy at the strangest times...especially ones that remind you of a short cut.
Finally, after starting to wonder if she would actually get lost and need to be rescued, Diane saw the colorful sign's announcing the Beluga exhibit. There was no sign of Harry behind her yet, and the thrill of actually beating him at something made her giggle. She tucked her hair behind one ear and bounded down the stairs to the underwater viewing room.
It was very humid and nearly void of light but she could tell it was a large, empty room. The ghostlike whales hovered back and forth along the far wall, which was a solid expanse of thick glass that reached up 15 feet above her head. She had to gulp in the thick air until heart slowed enough for her to breath deeply. Several drops of sweat slid down from her brow, and others gathered on her back between her shoulders.
Diane decided she needed a place to hide so she could get the drop on Harry when he arrived. There were soft benches along the wall, but nothing tall enough for her to disappear behind. Then she made out a small, educational kiosk in the far corner that looked promising, but as she tip toed over to it she was grabbed roughly from behind, scaring the living daylights out of her. Harry had her firmly by the waist and half carried a half dragged her over to the glass wall as she kicked and squealed.
Once there, he set her on her feet, spun her around and pressed her back against the cool glass of the viewing wall. She began to pummel his chest with her fists, whining, "Where did you come from? I beat you! I know I did!"
The deep chuckle he made resounded in her own chest as he flattened himself against her, and when he pulled her hands up over her head and held them against the glass with his own, she found herself completely pinned by his extra height and strength.
He held her there, and nuzzled her neck, "You have the right to remain silent..."
The gasping struggle he got in response was suddenly stopped by the burning kiss he planted on Diane. She could taste the traces of dark chocolate that were still evident in his mouth and moaned as he took her lips hungrily with his own.
"Anything I have within me can and will be held against you... repeatedly," he added in a hoarse whisper.
Diane shivered as he seductively ran his tongue across her brow and eyelids, licked the moisture from them and then returned to kissing her thoroughly. She wanted to hold him, take his head in her hands or feel the pounding of his heart through the fabric of his shirt, but he had control and wouldn't release her arms. The reflexive arching of her back let him know just what she liked and he automatically recorded each welcome response in the back of his mind for future reference.
The heat from their embrace created a thin fog on the window, and has Harry allowed her hands to drop slowly, it left a shimmering streak of clear glass all the way down to her hips. With her hands free, Diane clutched at Harry with furious passion wrapping one arm around his neck and using the other to pull at his shirt, "Come here, Denby...let's see what you like." The whales pondered them curiously; two small figures writhing and moving together along the window into their world; turning and tangled in eachother's arms.
Harry drew in sharply at the sensation of her fingernails on his back and it nearly drained then both of breath, but she didn't miss the change a little pleasurable pain brought out in him elsewhere.
Throwing his head back and gulping he hissed, "Do that again."
She slid her hands up under his polo shirt, which was now completely untucked, and raked his chest a little harder. With a groan he ran his hands down her sides to the lovely curve of her backside, grinding his hips against her and announcing his level of desire with bold clarity. When Diane nearly climbed him to get back to his mouth, Harry walked backwards with her still entwined to an upholstered bench. He picked her up, helped her wrap her legs around him and then set her snugly on his lap as he sat down. Now, more comfortably face to face, they necked like teenagers at a summer drive-in movie for half an hour.
"Were you expecting this, Harry? When you put together this whole evening with the flowers and the beach and the dinner...is this what you were expecting?" Diane asked breathlessly as he deftly unhooked her bra with one hand under her shirt.
He spread both of his hands across her small back, reveling in the baby soft feel of her skin."No, in truth, I didn't. When it comes to you..." he paused and kissed her lightly while bringing his hands carefully around to her front, "I am in a serious quandary." He caressed her nipples with his fingers and continued, "Ours is a difficult road...no one will understand. I myself don't even understand it, do you? Does this make any sense to you?"
Sighing deeply she put her arms around his neck, "Not in the least. It feels...well, it feels very dangerous and right at the same time." His warm, large hands massaged her breasts, and her head swam in the delicious joy of his touch. Every nerve tingled is suspended excitement at the things he did to her. "Just a few hours ago, at home, I felt so worn down and spent...in every way. I never would have guessed that I would feel the way I do right now."
"And how do you feel?"
She buried her hands in his hair and let her head fall back, "Lovely."
"Lovely..." he echoed softly as he removed her shirt. He leaned back and took in the full view of her exposed torso. The dim aqua light from the tank behind her undulated with the current and gave her perfect skin the appearance of living marble; something that had been in the ocean depths for ages but lived with magical enchantment. Her hair took on an unearthly hue of greenish browns and blues. Harry thought she looked like a siren or sea nymph.
"It won't be easy for us, Juliet. The family won't like it," he mused, gazing directly into her liquid eyes.
"I know, Romeo," she answered as she pulled his shirt up and over his head.
"Somehow, this passion must be contained." He lifted her off of his lap and down to the floor, then hovered over her on his hands and knees. His skin shone with moisture and he also reflected the ocean hues around them. "With you, I've got the temperament of a vampire but I need to have the discretion of...of an anemone."
Diane hooked her finger into a belt loop on his jeans and pulled him down to her. "A girl couldn't do better than to be taken...at the bottom of the sea, by a dangerous vampire..." she paused and ran her nails up his muscular arms, "on Valentine's Day."
He moved lower, sliding his chest across her belly, and began kissing his way down to her waistband, "You might want to check for teeth marks in the morning."
"Of course..." her words dropped off to whispers of ecstasy as she let herself dive into the pleasures he began.
The End
