Z is for Zephyr

Author: Emily Ann

Summary: "But come thou Goddess fair and free"

Rating: PG

N.B.: As my time in this fandom has increased, so too, has my tendency to take some aspects of it for granted. I'd like to take a moment to say 'thanks' to everyone here. It's b/c of the people that I've come to know that I continue to participate. Ya'll are amazing.

N.B.2: No, this has not been beta'd. It's a little ficlet that I came up w/ on the train. While I like it (and thus wanted to share it), it seemed like going through a beta process would make it something more (and less) than what it is. Okay, I'm a hypocrite.

Disclaimer: Scarecrow and Mrs. King and the characters therein are the intellectual property of Shoot the Moon Production Company and Warner Brothers Entertainment Television. This story, insofar as it stands apart from the series belongs to the author. Do not reproduce or redistribute, in whole or in part, in like or in kind, without her express permission.

The poem snippets come from L'Allegro by John Milton

Archive: Whatever Merel wants, Merel gets. Everyone else must request permission first.

@>-----'--- ---'-----<@
But come thou Goddess fair and free,
 In Heav'n yclept Euphrosyne,
 @>-----'--- ---'-----<@

He had known her for five years - and in that time, so fleeting, and yet a lifetime, he had come to know her fear, her anger, her grief, her jealousy, and manifold other emotions. He was now coming to know her joy.

And in that total happiness and utter bliss, he came to know his own - first as a reflection of hers and then as an entity unto itself. The moon no longer reflected the sun, but shown of its own will.

He crept into the Q Bureau one morning to find that she was already there, deeply embroiled in paperwork. Wrapping his arms around her from behind, he placed a gentle kiss on her cheek.

He smiled as he heard her gasp, and then saw her eyes fill with delighted surprise. "Hi, stranger. When'd you get back in town?"

"Half an hour ago. I had the cab drop me off here rather than take me home." He had settled into a half kneeling, half stooping position next to her chair. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too." She sighed and leaned back into his arms. "It's not the same without you."

He leaned in closer and tightened his arms. "You doing anything important?"

"No," she answered, curiosity threatening to overwhelm her. "What did you have in mind?"

"How about a picnic?" he suggested. "I've got a basket packed in my car. It's a beautiful day, and I want to catch up with my wife."

"Shhh," she placed a finger to her lips to emphasize her point. "The walls have ears."

He sighed and slumped against her. "Yeah, well I have needs - and right now I need to get out of here and eat lunch."

He moved to the door, and she stood to follow. "I'm right behind you, Scarecrow."

@>-----'-- --'-----<@
Or whether (as some Sager sing)
The frolic Wind that breathes the Spring,
Zephyr with Aurora playing,
As he met her once a Maying,
@>-----'-- --'-----<@

The wind rustled through the leaves in Rock Creek Park, and Amanda leaned back on the blanket to watch them moving overhead. Lee wasted no time in taking advantage of her new position. Bracing his arms on either side of her, he leaned over and captured her lips in an intense kiss.

She was caught off guard, but soon relaxed and returned the kiss in kind.

"Wow," she whispered, breathless, after they'd broken apart. Her eyes were bright, her face flushed.

"Wow, indeed," he echoed, and brushed her hair back letting his fingers linger over her face.

She was aglow. Her face as radiant as the sun, and like a flowering plant, he was drawn to her. She was his nourishment; every moment he spent with her, he was ever more alive.

Unable to suppress it, a grin, spread across his face.

"What?" She smiled in return.

"Nothing," he responded, still beaming.

She rolled over, tracing a line down his neck to the "v" in his shirt. "No, really, what?"

"You're beautiful," he admitted. "I just love watching you sometimes."

"Come're." She drew him closer to her on the blanket.

@>-----'-- --'-----<@
There on Beds of Violets blew,
And fresh-blown Roses wash'd in dew,
Fill'd her with thee a daughter fair,
So bucksome, blithe, and debonair.
@>-----'----- --'-----<@

finis