Title: "Candlelight"
Author: Rebecca Bradstreet
Rated: PG
Archive: Sure.
Summary: John makes Becca an offer, and she makes one of her own.
Warning: Language.
Disclaimer/Notes: This is a Profiler/Anita Blake Vampire Hunter Crossover. I don't own John Grant, or any other Profiler character. I don't own Asher, or any other Anitaverse character. I do own Rebecca Belinda "Becca" Drake. After all she is just a dragon version of me. I use // for thoughts, :: for telepathy, and ** as emphasis. This isn't beta'd so all mistakes are my own. ;)
"Candlelight"
Rebecca Bradstreet (c) 2001Atlanta
John & Becca's Apartment
Sunday July 1, 2001"Becca, I *thought* I asked you to get dressed up," John said. He sounded irritated, and John was fighting a losing a battle with his tie.
"You did ask. You didn't mention why," Becca responded her voice unsympathetic; her body sprawled out on the sofa.
"No, I didn't mention why, I *just* asked," he told her sharply, coming to stand over her.
"Why *do* you want me to get dressed up?" She asked him as he swung her feet down off the sofa.
"Because I asked you to." John frowned at her, not giving her another "why."
"Well, I suppose that might do. Am I dressing to match *that* outfit?" Becca grinned up at him, looking at the suit he was wearing.
"Yes. You think you can handle it?" He grinned back at her, letting her know that she hadn't ruined the evening yet.
"I think I can handle it. I might even be able to fix your tie," she smiled while fixing his tie for him, before going into the bedroom to get dressed up. John considered following her to supervise her. However, he suspected if he followed her in they might never make it out. He waited for her on the sofa, but Becca didn't take long. She dressed simply and well. Becca wore little makeup or jewelry. Getting her into a dress and heels was getting her dressed up. She walked back into the living room, and stood in front of John. Becca was looking for his approval of her clothes. He smiled. She'd picked the blue dress he'd hoped she'd wear.
"You look *beautiful*," John smiled up at her.
"Flatterer," Becca grinned self-consciously, and held out her hands offering to help him up off the couch.
"You *are* beautiful," he insisted as he let her pull him up off the sofa.
"Now that I'm all dressed up where are we going?" She pressed as he brought her her coat.
"Patience, love, and all will be revealed," John promised, draping her coat over her shoulders.
"I've told you patience isn't one of my virtues, right?" Becca smiled at him as she slipped into her coat.
"You've told me," John grinned as he put on his coat.
"Coming?" He asked holding his arm out to her. She took his arm, leaned against him, and let him guide her where ever they were going.
The Woods
John's CabinThey rolled into the driveway, and Becca wondered not for the first time in the evening *just* what John was up to. He'd encouraged her to dress up for the evening. John knew full well she didn't get dressed up without a reason, but he'd refused to give her one beyond his asking her to. She'd accepted his reason, but it didn't tell her what he was up to. John had escorted her to his car, and driven them out to his cabin. Becca wasn't sure why she'd had to get dressed up for the trip. When John opened the front door she had a better idea why she was dressed up. The whole cabin was lit by candlelight, and there was a meal that Becca...doubted he'd had any part in the making of himself.
"This is...beautiful," she whispered softly caught on the threshold.
"Beautiful, but not perfect?" John tested gently, standing behind her holding the door.
"It's not perfect without you," Becca smiled stepping into the room, and drawing him in; closing the door behind him.
"Can I take your coat?" He asked unbuttoning it.
"Certainly," she shrugged out of her coat, and rubbed her arms as he hung up their coats.
"May I offer you a seat Miss Drake?" John moved towards the table, and pulled out a chair for her.
"Why Mr Grant if I didn't know better I'd think you were trying to seduce me," Becca grinned as she sat down at the candle lit dinner.
"What makes you think I'm not?" He smiled at her as he sat down across from her.
"You don't have to try," she said quietly.
"I shouldn't make an effort because you're a sure thing?" John asked his voice teasing, and curious.
"The effort is lovely like you," Becca told him warmly.
"Eat, Bailey, put a lot of effort into this," he grinned at her mischievously.
"I knew you couldn't have cooked this," she smiled back before she began to eat.
They ate the meal quietly. As Becca ate she was vaguely aware of the music playing softly in the background, and the food. Much of her attention was caught up in watching the candlelight reflect in John's eyes. He watched how her face glowed in the light, and the flames danced over her hair. As they finished eating, he got out of his seat and poured them both some champagne.
"Did Bailey do well?" John smiled as he sat in his chair, and took a sip of the sparkling wine.
"Do I want to know what you owe him for this?" Becca asked over her glass.
"Not yet," he told her cryptically setting his drink aside, and digging something out of his pocket. She only had to wonder what he had in his pocket briefly. When John had it out of his pocket Becca could see it was a jewelry case.
"John?" She said soft and curious.
"Shhs," he smiled at her getting out of his chair, kneeling in front of her, and opening the jewelry box. Nestled in its blue velvet lining sat a star sapphire in a silver setting.
"Becca, I know you're 4,000 years old; that you may be alive long after I'm dead. I also know you could get killed tomorrow. I've seen your scars. Becca, I want us to spend however much time we have in this world together as man and wife. Will you marry me?" John looked at her his eyes full of hope, and fear. For a long moment she sat silently looking at him, and the ring. In the silence the fear in him grew until he noticed she was crying silently.
"Becca?" He whispered to her. She slid out of her chair, and wrapped her arms around him.
"Oh John, I would love to marry you! I'd...I'd like to do more than marry you," Becca looked at him through her tears, and he could see there was something there he couldn't read.
"More?" He asked.
"We...we can join our life forces; bind our souls together. If you believe in such things," She told him nervously.
"Join our life forces?" John repeated.
"It's a magical thing, some 'mystical crap' we can do. A human and a dragon can sort of pool their life forces. You'd become as hard to kill as I am, but we couldn't completely shield our thoughts from each other anymore. And...and once we were joined we'd die together. Our life forces would be *one* life force in *two* bodies. If one of our bodies was hurt beyond repair all of our life force would bleed out of those wounds," Becca's eyes were very serious.
"And our souls..." He questioned gently, wiping away her tears.
"They'd be inseparable -- bound together for all time. Some dragons would say you'd be guaranteeing you'd be a dragon in your next life. The bonded human I know would say I was redeeming myself; choosing to be human like you. We wouldn't be giving up our souls. The dead do that not the living. We *are* bound to each other without any wedding vows much less any magical joining, John. I *love* you more than I have ever loved anyone in 4,000 years, and you love me. We can get married, we can join our souls, and our life forces, or not -- all of those things will just be ways of acknowledging the bond we already have," she sat looking in his eyes for understanding.
"Becca, I *love* you. I know what we need to get married. What do we need for the 'mystical crap'?" John smiled at her.
"To lower our shields, open our hearts, and say the magic words. I know how corny it sounds, but it's the truth. George and Elisheba told me," Becca grinned, and looked embarrassed.
"George and Elisheba?" John repeated.
"Saint George the Dragon Slayer and the dragon he loves. George hasn't slain *every* dragon he's ever met. He's 1, 734 years old. She's 7,000 and something. They're friends of mine," her eyes danced with mischief as she smiled.
"7,000 and something?" He didn't respond to George's age. Becca was offering to give him a shot at that life span.
"She never gets more specific. I suspect she doesn't know when she hatched. I wouldn't either if my mentor hadn't found me just out of my egg," Becca knew that her childhood seemed so odd to John, but he'd asked the question.
"They've been bound for 1,700 years?" It was a guess from George's age, but John decided to check.
"About. They're...they've always...they've always seemed very happy together, John," she leaned back from John, sitting down on the floor, and pushing the chair she'd been sitting in farther back behind her.
"We couldn't completely shield our thoughts from each other anymore?" He wanted to make sure he understood *everything* she was proposing.
"The link would run through *all* our shields. We wouldn't be one mind -- one heart anymore than we would be one soul, but our hearts and minds would be linked. We would be two hearts, two minds, and two souls with one life force," Becca told him, her own eyes showing a mix of hope and fear. John pulled her back into his arms. Holding her close, and speaking softly with all his love he asked, "What are the magic words?"
She tilted her head to look in his eyes -- see if he was absolutely sure. Looking in his eyes she didn't need to ask. Becca could see John had opened his heart to her; feel he'd lowered his shields. She didn't ask if he was sure. Becca didn't say the magic words either. What she said was, "Oh John!"
He laughed softly, "Somehow I don't think those are *the* magic words. Though they *are* magical."
"We...we..." Becca pulled herself out of his arms. She stood, and moved her chair back to its place at the table.
"If we're going to do this we need to do it *right*," Becca told him standing before him, and holding out her hands to him. John looked at her hands and her before taking them and standing.
"Right?" He questioned.
"You want to find out what happens if we do it *wrong*?" She asked only half teasing.
"Ah, I've already seen enough magic done wrong to last me a lifetime thanks. I don't want to do magic wrong with you," John answered unable to keep his tone light. Becca nodded, "I don't want to do magic wrong with you either."
"So exactly how much do we have to do besides the corny stuff?" He grinned at her.
"Well...considering you already brought us out here not a whole lot. You've built very solid wards around this cabin as you've learned to control your magical ability. We have to try and...calm down? Get our...uh...selves organized? We're supposed to do all the corny stuff in unison. And there is a corny detail I haven't mentioned," she smiled and blushed.
"Oh? And just what haven't you mentioned?" John pulled her into his arms and grinned down at her wickedly.
"We're supposed to seal it all with a kiss. Have you ever heard the Shelley quote, 'Soul meets soul when lovers lips meet'? As I understand it the kiss is quite a rush," Becca explained with a playful smile of her own.
"Really? We'll just have to see won't we?" He grinned as he walked her to the rug by the fire.
"If you insist Mr Grant," she nodded as she sat down on the rug.
"I insist Miss Drake," John sat on the rug facing her.
"The magic words are, 'Together our soul fires dance, together let them burn.' You think you can remember them?" Becca told him her voice tender, and teasing.
"I think I can remember them," he answered her with quiet passion.
They closed their eyes. It didn't always help her see with her inner eyes, but John had discovered in his training it always helped him. Becca knew he felt self-conscious closing his eyes to center himself, and knowing someone was watching. They closed their eyes, worked on quieting their butterflies, and finding the point where they already touched. When they'd stilled their inner selves, and found the point where they touched, they began the ritual. They let down their shields, opened their hearts, and said the magic words in unison. Once they said the words they leaned forward and kissed. As their lips touched, they tingled. As they pressed together, they burned. And, when they parted each others' lips, their life forces joined. Their bodies burned.
"A rush," John croaked hoarsely, blinking at Becca with wide eyes.
"You think Asher felt that?" She grinned at him cupping his face in her hands.
"I think all of Atlanta felt that," he swallowed, and covered her hands with his own.
"If they did then I guess we don't have to tell them what we did, hu?" Becca said with a wide smile.
"Becca," John sighed at her.
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