Author: Lipstickcat
Email: [email protected]
Pairing: James/Butch
Rating: G
Disclaimer: I don�t own the characters, and the song belongs to Sting. *sigh* If only I could own Sting�
***
//I dream of rain
I dream of gardens in the desert sand
I wake in pain
I dream of love as time runs through my hand//
It was a hot muggy night. Inside his cramped room at Team Rocket headquarters, Butch turned restlessly in his sleep. It was that dream again.
He was wearing a black cotton robe, it drew the heat from the sun so that it seared his skin, even though he was covered up. His bare feet burned as he walked through the sand. The desert stretched as far as he could see in all directions. Endless. Only, in front of him, on the horizon line, there was a garden, green and lush. It was raining there, streaks of silver refreshing water fell from a cloudless sky. Amongst the trees and plants there was a whirling, swirling flash of scarlet. He had got close enough in other dreams to know that it was a person dancing, but never close enough to found out who it was. He always woke up too soon.
He knew that there was something special about this person. He thought that maybe he was in love with them, he could feel the desperation and anticipation with every beat of his heart in his dream. The disappointment always tore him apart when he woke up. But he could never remember the dream in the daylight hours, just a fear that there was something important that he would never remember again.
Who was the mystery person? It was someone he knew. He assumed that it was Cassidy, after all, she was his partner, but he was sure that deep down he hated her. Maybe it was flame haired Jesse, or Giovanni�s secretary, she always had a smile for him.
//I dream of fire
Those dreams are tied to a horse that will never tire
And in those flames
Her shadows play in the shape of a man�s desire//
He stumbled forward in the sand, exhausted and still no nearer. An amber glow began to flicker at the edges of his vision, staining the sky pink. He glanced behind him and felt a chill shudder through his body, already the fire was at his heels. He never made it, the fire always beat him.
He turned back to the garden, the figure was mirroring the flames, wavering and flickering. Warm winds caught at that shear red clothing and pulled at the ends in wisps. A sigh escaped from between Butch�s lips, once again he would be left wondering who it was, once more he would wake up screaming.
A faint noise distracted him. A whinnying from his left, barely audible despite the eerie silence of the baking land. He looked towards it. A white horse stood in the sand, Butch frowned in surprise, he�d never seen it before in his dream. It was thin and sinewy, yet with hard curves of muscle displaying its strength. It pound the ground with its front hoof, digging slightly into the yellow sand and kicking up clouds of dry grains. A shock of bright red hair ran down its neck, it tossed its head and its mane curled into the air and then fell back into place. With a burst of energy, Butch sprinted towards it, not stopping to consider that he was diverting from his path. The horse waited patiently for him to reach it and in a move that would have been impossible in the waking world, he mounted it.
//This desert rose
Each of her veils, a secret promise
This desert flower
No sweet perfume ever tortured me more than this//
The horse galloped across the space of the desert. Butch rocked back and forth in motion with the movement. He was hunched over the sharp shoulders, clutching the thick mane, looking up through his hair, eyes fixed on the garden as it rushed up to met him.
He could see the figure clearly now, they had their back to him. The red cloth shone bright against its green backdrop and looked almost see through. White skin moved beneath the fabric, supple and soft looking. His dream love had blue hair, tied back by a ruby scarf. As the body twisted, veils fell away, each one was caught up by the wind and floated away.
As he got closer, he became aware of the smell. Sweet, it pinched his nose buds and filled his head. It hypnotised him, drew him in, then vanished, only to drift back seconds later as if for the first time.
//And as she turns
This way she moves in the logic of all my dreams
This fire burns
I realise that nothing�s as it seems//
The fires were closer now, at the edge of the garden, but the rain stopped it from engulfing the plants. Droplets beaded on the leaves, rolling off at the vital moment. They hit the source of each flame with a sizzle. The dancer stood in the middle of the garden, surrounded by the mercury rain, yet remained dry.
Butch dismounted the horse and lead it into the garden, where it would be safe. He looked up into the azure sky and welcomed the cool splatter of rain on his skin. He continued through the long grass until he reached the centre, where the rain stopped. A drop of water lingered on the end of his fringe as he stood in silence and watched a pale hand pull the scarf away. The hair tumbled around the sleek neck and his breath caught in his throat as the figure began to turn around. He looked into the beautiful green eyes and gasped as he realised that it was James.
//I dream of rain
I dream of gardens in the desert sand
I wake in pain
I dream of love as time runs through my hand//
Butch sat bolt upright in bed. Sweat poured from him, his black pyjamas clung to his body, emphasising his toned chest as he battled to get his breath back. He punched his mattress in anger, unsure quite why he was angry. He flung his bedsheets back, climbed out of bed and walked to his open window. The air was still and warm. The garden outside was empty. He virtually ran out of his room, along the corridor, down the steps and onto the grass outside. He sat down, wishing for some cool rain, and tried to think.
//I dream of rain
I lift my gaze to empty skies above
I close my eyes, this rare perfume
Is the sweet intoxication of her love//
Butch fell backwards into the long grass. His fingers weaved and tugged at the blades unconsciously as he thought.
It was James! He had fallen in love with the mystery figure and it was James. Did he have feelings for him? Or was it just a dream?
The stars in the dark night sky offered no answers. He wished that they would fall, like the shimmering rain in the dream. They would protect him from the fire that burnt his heart. The flames of fear had been there for so long that he�d learnt to ignore them.
He closed his eyes and remembered the flow of skin beneath the scarlet material. He took a deep breath to sigh, but paused. A familiar sweet scent filled his lungs. He recognised it now, it was the roses in the garden. They were James� roses, he cared for them, watered them, even though the rest of the garden was left to overgrow.
//I dream of rain
I dream of gardens in the desert sand
I wake in pain
I dream of love as time runs though my hand//
Butch climbed back to his feet. He paused to glance at the flowerbed before making his way back to the doorway. Slowly, he climbed the steps, taking in the chill of the bare stone on the soles of his feet. He was thankful for something to help cool him down, but he knew that he was stalling.
His feet took him down the corridor, past his own room, two doors down to James�. He stopped outside. His heart was hammering in his throat, he could barely swallow. His hand reached out for the handle and paused. What would he say? Maybe he�d say nothing, maybe he�d just watch him sleep and then slip away. He turned the door handle. The door was unlocked and it slid open silently.
//Sweet desert rose
Each of her veils, a secret promise
This desert flower
No sweet perfume ever tortured me more than this//
James sat in the window sill thinking. His dark silhouette was tinted sliver at the edges by the moon. He had his knees pulled in tight to his chest. A reoccurring dream had reached its end and the end hadn�t surprised him as much as it should have done. He let his legs slide a little further along the sill as he turned to face the visitor he had been expecting.
The perfumed smell wafted through the door as soon as Butch opened it. He slipped inside and pushed the door shut behind him. A vase of roses sat on the bedside table, but the bed was empty. He looked up towards the movement in the window. The figure was dark, but he could make out the scarlet satin pyjamas. He realised that James had been watching him in the garden.
�Bad dreams?� James asked, bowing his head shyly so that a curtain of hair shielded his eyes.
Butch thought. He walked a little closer to the window.
�No. Not really.�
James head jerked up at the reply. He climbed out of the window and stood in front of Butch, frowning slightly.
�The horse...� He stopped talking for fear of sounding stupid.
Butch nodded. Then he smiled.
�Desert rose.�
A smile crept across James� face, his mouth curled, his lips cherry red even in the dark room. Butch lent forward and tasted those lips.
Jesse lent against a tree, watching the movement in James� room. Her white pyjamas were stark against the night. She didn�t really understand what had happened, but she knew that she�d done right. She didn�t normally dream at all.
She rushed inside as heavy raindrops began to fall, cooling the night air.
//Sweet desert rose
This memory of Eden haunts us all
This desert flower, this rare perfume
Is the sweet intoxication of the fall//