Disclaimer: This story is written for the private entertainment of fans. The author makes no claims on the characters or their portrayal by the creation of this story. Fraser, Vecchio, et.al. belong to Alliance; the McKenzies and friends belong to me. No infringement of any copyrights held by CBS, Alliance, CTV, or any other copyright holders of DUE SOUTH is intended. This story is not published for profit, and the author does not give permission for this story to be reproduced for profit.

Lyrics to Perhaps Love by John Denver are used without permission.

Drama/Romance Rated PG

Like Thunder When It Rains

By SL Haas

(Copyright December 1996, Revised June 1999)

August 1984

Chopin's Raindrop Prelude drifted out to Ben. He knocked again. "Phil, answer your door! I know you're here." But the piano and its absorbed pianist didn't hear him. Ben made his way around the side of the house and climbed the stairs to the deck. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows he could see Phil engrossed in her piano. The last strains of the prelude reached his ears. He rapped on the glass and watched as Phil's head jerked up and around to stare at him. The music stopped and she rose to open to door for him.

"I knocked on the door but you didn't hear me."

"I'm sorry, T. I got lost in..."

"Don't apologize, Phil, I understand. Play some more for me, please."

"I'm not that good, T. I only play for my own pleasure. It helps me unwind. I don't want to offend your ears with my playing."

"Let me be the judge of that. From what I heard, you play beautifully."

"To borrow one of your phrases--'thank you kindly'-- but you should really hear Rob play. He could have been a concert pianist if he wanted but he always wanted to be a doctor. You know...one of the first memories I have is sitting on several books at a piano playing 'Heart and Soul' with him." Phil motioned for Ben to come inside. She slid the patio door closed and turned to him. "We used to play all kinds of duets together. Then we started singing together. TJ was so disgusted with us. He was all thumbs and couldn't carry a note to save himself."

"Becka and I are a bit like that. We both played guitar and sang. I miss doing that with her."

"Me, too. I mean... with Rob!" She laughed, "Some of my fondest memories revolve around a piano and singing with Rob. When we get together we usually spend an evening singing and playing together. We didn't get to do that when Rob was here. I missed doing that this time."

"You weren't in exactly the best shape to sing or play the piano, now were you?"

"No, I guess I wasn't. I still missed it, though." There was a wistfulness in her voice that tugged at his heart.

"What say we try something together?"

"You mean, you and me, sing something together?"

"Why not?"

"I don't...I mean...T...I have only sang with Rob. I'm not that good and, well, TJ and Rob have to put up with my caterwauling but you don't."

"Phil, don't tell me you're shy? I refuse to believe that. Besides, I'm not such a great singer myself. In fact, my most appreciative audience was a pack of wolves. They serenaded me one night and I joined them. We had a howling good time together..." He paused, "Are you laughing at me?"

Phil shook her head and compressed her lips but the image of Ben howling with a pack of wolves was just too much. She giggled. The giggle became a chuckle, the chuckle a chortle. She leaned on the keyboard and the discordant notes accentuated her laughter. "I'm sorry, T. It's just..."

"Phil, I'm hurt. You laughed at me. Here I was sharing a tender moment from my past and you laughed at me." He hung his head. "And you won't play for me and you won't sing with me..." He glanced at her from the corner of his eyes.

"Oh no you don't, Mr. Pity-Me-the-Poor-Misunderstood-Mountie! I can see right through you. Whining will get you nowhere."

Ben shook his head and asked, "What can I do to convince you to join me?"

A speculative look entered her eyes. Ben's eyebrows rose as he waited for her answer. "A kiss would do nicely."

Ben joined her on the piano bench, slid his arm around her, and drew her close. Her hands were on his chest almost, but not quite, pushing him away. He trailed a finger down her forehead along the bridge of her nose to her lips. His thumb gently caressed those portals. His mouth approached hers. With only an inch separating them, he whispered, "Will one be enough?"

Phil stared into his blue eyes. She felt his breath on her lips. Would one kiss from this man ever be enough? She nodded and whispered back, "One will do for right now." She watched his face close the distance that separated their lips. She felt the pressure of his lips on hers; his tongue stroking her lips before entering her mouth. She felt the curling, tingling sensation that built in her. Why did he affect her like this? Her hands slipped around his shoulders and her fingers found their way into his thick, dark hair. Reluctantly, they drew apart.

Ben watched Phil swallow and run her tongue over her lips. He saw the desire in her eyes and smiled. "Well?" he asked.

"Okay, I give up. I simply cannot refuse you when you ask so nicely." He hands moved back to the keyboard and she played a short arpeggio to calm her racing heart and the tremble in her fingers. It didn't work. His closeness affected her such that she couldn't seem to find the right keys.

His thigh brushed hers and Ben found his throat closing up. He couldn't speak much less sing. By mutual agreement they drew apart and inhabited the far ends of the bench. The looks they gave each other spoke volumes.

Phil's fingers became sure again and began to play some Gordon Lightfoot. Her slightly husky alto combined with his crystal clear baritone producing a pleasant harmony. Beatles, followed by John Denver, Credence Clearwater, and even some Beach Boys, were sampled and expanded upon. Gradually, the distance separating them on the bench decreased until, once more, thigh brushed thigh. This time, though, self-consciousness was put aside. Ben placed his arm around Phil's shoulders and held her close as he gently sang in her ear. She turned her face to his and their lips accidentally brushed each other. Neither drew away as coffee-brown eyes gazed into glacier blue ones. Phil's hands stilled on the keys. She couldn't control the trembling in them. He smiled gently at her. He could still see the wariness buried deep in her eyes. He had to take it slow or scare her away again.

She shifted away from Ben and stood up. "I'm sorry, T. I've got to stop. My hand is really aching. The cast hasn't been off that long and it still aches when I strain it." She massaged her hand. "I think you'll agree that four hours of continuous playing would be considered straining it!"

Ben stood and approached her. He took her hand and massaged it for her. "We need some moist heat on this," and he proceeded to kiss it. The kisses moved up her arm.

Phil looked into his deep blue eyes as his face crept up her arm. She laughed, "Why do you do this to me, Ben?'

He looked at her with a 'who-me?' look in his eyes and grinned at her. "Because I lov...."

Phil pulled his face to hers and planted a passionate kiss on his willing lips. Her tongue caressed his lips as she molded her body to his. Just as quickly she pulled away from him.

Ben was speechless. Phil continually surprised him. Now was no different. She had never initiated such a passionate kiss before and the effects of it were still coursing through his body.

She laughed at him, "Don't just stand there with your mouth hanging open! You look like a fish out of water!"

He pulled her to him and silenced her laughter in the most effective way he knew. As he pulled back from her face he lovingly memorized her features. Her lips—slightly parted, moist, a redness from the pressure of his lips on hers, trembling slightly (so easily coaxed into a smile); her tongue--sensuously running over her lips (his groin muscles tightened); the tip of her nose, slightly flaring with each breath; her eyes (he removed her glasses)—brown and bottomless, glazed with passion, a fully awakened awareness of him, holding a promise of unfathomed passion (he felt himself drowning in them); her skin--lightly tanned, flushed with desire (Blue Cabin flashed through his thoughts); her dark brown hair--like strands of silk (he inhaled the familiar scent of lavender). He catalogued each feature, imprinting them on his heart forever. He kissed her again, this time gentle and lovingly.

Phil gazed into the face of this man who had changed her world around. She had saved his life at Phil's Falls. He had found her and returned the favor in Blue Basin. But he had done more. He had reached out to the Phil only her brothers knew. He had steadfastly pursued that Phil, refusing to accept the Phil everyone else knew. Why had he done that? Why did he want to know the 'real' Phil?

"T, why are you here with me?" She buried her face in his chest and clutched the front of his shirt. "Why me? Ben, you could have any woman you wanted. I've seen the way they look at you. Why me? You never backed down--you never let me push you away. Why?"

His arms were around her, stroking her back, running his fingers through her hair, trailing fingers across her cheek. "I can't really say, Phil." He cupped her chin and kissed her. "I have little experience with women. They are…unpredictable and that alarms me."

Phil pulled away from him disbelief in her eyes.

"I know, I know, hard to believe, but, nevertheless, true. You never treated me like a...a sex object! You treated me like a person...a friend..." He smiled into her eyes, "You never demanded anything of me. You're nothing like Angel."

"Thank you...I guess?" The wary look reappeared in her eyes. "But why me? Why weren't you satisfied to know the 'me' everyone else knows? Why did you want to know more?"

He kissed the tip of her nose. "I was intrigued. I wanted to know you better." He shook his head slightly. "The more I knew, the more I wanted to know." He laughed.

"What's so funny?"

"You and your darn stories!"

"My stories? What about all those Inuit stories you've told me? Sometimes I think they have a story for every conceivable situation imaginable. My stories, indeed!"

He silenced her with a kiss. "As I was saying, every story you told me only enticed me nearer until I was trapped in your web. No matter how hard I tried..." he sighed, "You've captured me, Phil--pure and simple." He nuzzled her neck and ear.

"You make it sound like I deliberately...like I wanted to...wanted to catch you..." Logical thought surrendered to the feelings his tongue and lips created. Ben watched the emotions play across her face. If a few strategic kisses had this effect on her--how would she react to him when he made love to her? His eyes closed as he imagined her body under him as he thrust into her depths. He imagined her moans of pleasure as they climaxed...he shook himself and buried his face in her neck.

"I want you, Phil," he whispered in her ear.

Phil heard the soft whisper and knew what he was asking. She wanted him...but he was leaving. She knew sex would not hold him and without a commitment she could not give in to her desires. She pushed gently against him. "I think you should go, Ben."

The cool tones of her voice brought Ben out of his fantasy.

Phil saw the bewilderment on his face and the hurt she had caused. "I'm sorry, T. I'm not ready for this. I don't know if I will ever be..." The words caught in her throat and she felt a renegade tear slide down her cheek.

"That's alright, Phil. I can wait." He walked slowly to the door. With his hand on the knob he turned to her. "But consider this: I'm a Mountie, Phil, and I always get my woman."

"I thought that was 'You always get your man!'"

"I don't want a man the way I want you!"

The words leaped across the distance separating them and caressed Phil's emotional core. She grabbed a pillow and threw it at him.

Ben ducked then grinned before hastening out the door. "You missed me, Phil!" preceded the slamming of the door. He leaned against the door and laughed to himself. The solid thud of another pillow on the other side informed him of his narrow escape.

* * *

"You did what?"

"We volunteered you for the talent contest. It's for a good cause and it's about time you shared some of your talent with others."

Phil glared at Darryl and Jason then turned to survey the other members of the station. "Whose big idea was this? Isn't it enough that I already volunteered as stage crew? I will not parade my limited abilities when there are so many others that are more talented than me. Just whose idea was this?" A parting of the company directed Phil to the only pair of eyes in the station that refused to meet hers--glacier blue ones that turned to hers with a small measure of guilt in them.

"Fraser? You did this to me?" She shook her head and turned to Darryl, "That settles it! Mark my name off and put Fraser's down. If you want someone to sing, he's much better at it than I am. In fact, you'll have half the audience swooning over him." She shot a venomous glance at the Mountie. "How could you?" she mouthed at him then stalked out of the building.

"Come on, Dave. Let's take a buzz over to Winston and back." She called back to the still surprised group.

Dave hurriedly grabbed his gear and grinned at Ben. "You're on her 'Shit List' now, Fraser!" Sounds of the chopper lifting off soon reached their ears.

"Well, now what do we do? I promised Carter that we'd field at least one entry in the contest." He looked at Ben for clarification. "I thought you said she was good singer."

"She is, she's just a little self-conscious."

"Do you think there's anyway we can get her to relent and perform? Or can you take over her spot?" Darryl anxiously asked. The annual talent contest was a charity

event put on at the area ski resort. Each of the various rescue groups, snow patrols, and lake patrols of the area shared a good natured rivalry when it came to providing talent for the contest.

"From her attitude, I would venture to guess that you will never get her on a stage!" Darryl's shoulders sagged. "But I have a plan..." Ben’s sly smile spread to Darryl as he explained his plan to him.

* * *

"Since you were the one to ‘volunteer’ me in your stead, it is only fair that you help me practice." Ben’s reasoning voice continued the discussion that had begun that morning when Phil had entered the station. "If I’m to acquit myself well on behalf of our group, I need to practice. You will admit that you are my best choice for a practice partner, Phil."

"Oh, alright, T! I’ll help you practice. But that’s all, understand? I am not going to accompany you."

"That’s all I ask, Phil. Can I come by tonight and go over some music with you?"

"Since when have you needed my permission to drop by?" she smiled at him and glancing around to be sure no one could see them, she planted a quick kiss on his lips. Ben reached for her but she drew away as the sound of footsteps approached the office. She was more than willing to kiss and be kissed by Ben in private. But she was uncomfortable with the idea of someone seeing her do that. Kissing Ben in public would be the same as admitting to everyone that she cared for him more than just as a friend. How could she do that when she knew she would lose him in October? It was better if no one knew what she was going through. Besides she had a reputation to maintain. After all, she was the Ice Queen and she wasn’t quite ready to admit that Ben had melted her heart of ice.

* * *

Phil fixed a light dinner for the two of them, then settled down at the piano, and ran through several selections with Ben. He had borrowed a guitar from Stan and chorded along with her.

"I think we can narrow it down to these two songs." He indicated the one piece of sheet music Phil had propped on the piano. The other was a tune new to Phil.

"If you want my opinion, go with your song. It's new and..." she swallowed, "you sing it so very well." Very well indeed, she could picture those horsemen racing across those blue skies--horsemen that all looked like Ben.

"I tend to agree with you, Phil. But I like this other one as well. Could you sing through it for me? I'd like to hear the words again." He stretched out on the sofa and closed his eyes. When nothing happened he opened his eyes and looked questioningly at Phil. "What?"

"I'm not the one who is supposed to be practicing, T. Why don't you sing through it and let me listen?"

"Now, Phil, before I sing a song I like to hear the words and the music and feel how they flow together. I can't do that while I'm singing it. Please, do this for me?" He gave her a quick smile. "Please?"

"Why can't I say no to you?" She shook her head, turned back to the keyboard, and began playing the music. She played through the piece once, then began again. This time her alto tones carried the lyrics to Ben's ears. With his eyes closed, the slight huskiness of her voice stroked his senses.

Phil sang the song, ever conscious of the words. She glanced over at Ben's recumbent form. With his eyes closed, she felt safe in letting her love for him fill her eyes. She vowed to smother her love as much as possible. They would only end up hurting each other when he left for Canada. It would be better if only one of them ended up with a broken heart. It was so hard to keep her distance, though. He was like a light and she was a moth captured by his warmth and brightness. She longed to immolate herself in the flames that built in her. The song was over, her fingers idle, and still she stared at Ben.

Too soon, Phil's voice faded and the music stopped. Ben opened his eyes, and surprised a look on her face. He had seen it before, once hanging off the cliff at Phil's Falls, once in a fever-delirium and once at the symphony. He rose from the sofa and approached Phil at the piano. She quickly reigned in her emotions and turned back to the sheet of music.

His hand on her shoulder set her nerves to tingling. He leaned across her to point to a notation on the sheet of music. Phil was excruciatingly aware of his presence beside her. "What was that, T? I'm sorry, I blanked for a moment."

Ben felt the slight trembling of Phil's body and knew she hadn't 'blanked' at all. True, her mind had been elsewhere, but not blank like she wanted him to believe. He had felt the magic of the words, too. This song was perfect for his purposes. If only he could trick her.

"I said: the notation indicates that this is supposed to be sung as a duet."

Phil glanced at the indicated notation. Sure enough, duet. She glanced at him. What was he planning?

"Sing it with me? I want to hear how the parts fit together. And before you say anything--I know--you are not singing a duet with me! I just want to hear the song as it is supposed to be performed. Okay?"

Reluctantly she agreed, "Okay."

"I'll take the first part, can you handle the second?" Phil nodded and they sang through the song together. They tried it several more times until Ben was comfortable with the words, and then he worked on the guitar part. By the time he was finished he was satisfied with the progress of his plan.

"I like that song, but I don't think I can use it. It sounds so much better as a duet that I don't think I can do it justice alone. And since you have made it abundantly clear that you will not join me..." He glanced at Phil. She smiled and shook her head. "I guess that I'll stick with my song."

"I told you that hours ago, T. Why didn't you listen to me then?"

"I guess I just enjoy singing with you." He placed the guitar in the case, stretched, and gave Phil a quick kiss. "I guess I'll go now. Unless you'd like for me to stay?" There was a definite tinge of hope in his voice.

"Go home, T. I'll see you tomorrow."

* * *

"I swear I will never do this again!" Phil ran her hand through her hair and grimaced at Darryl. "I'll visit one of my brothers for a week, a month. Hell, I'll move to Chicago with them!"

"Phil, Phil! Calm down! Next year you can do something else--and if you run off to Chicago we'll send someone after you!"

"I just bet you would. You're a cruel and devious man, Darryl." Phil gave him a hug.

"You have no idea how right you are, Phil!" Phil did a double take of Darryl as he handed her the portable microphone. "Now, take this mike to the rear of the chairs and wait for the signal."

"Darryl, what did you mean by that remark?" Phil asked.

"You know, the signal for the next act on the billet...the one that follows Fraser's song?" Darryl played dumb. "Hurry, Fraser's about to begin and you don't want to miss him, do you?"

"No, I don't." She smiled at her friend. "Thanks for giving me a job where I can legitimately watch him sing."

Darryl's grin widely. "You may not think that after this evenings over! Now go!"

Phil obediently hurried to the rear of the chairs that had been set up to accommodate the audience for the show. She couldn't believe the number people that had shown up. There were even people spread out on the perimeter, enjoying the show from their own blankets or quilts. There was a festive feeling in the air. This was the biggest turnout for the charity event she had yet seen. Phil stood at the rear waiting for the group that was following Ben to appear and take the mike from her. She idly watched as Ben carried a stool and a guitar out onto the stage. She wondered where the group was. They were going to be late if they didn't hurry and get there.

Ben positioned the stool on the stage and sat down. He lightly tuned his guitar searching the crowd for the face he wanted to see. His lips curled slightly as he saw Phil at the rear holding the portable microphone. Now, if she would only cooperate.

Phil watched as the small smile settled on Ben's face. She listened to the collective sighs from the women sitting in front of her.

"Now there's a souvenir I'd like to take home with me!"

"Jeez, pinch me, I think I'm dreaming...NO don't pinch me! I don't want to wake up!"

"Brother, I'd love to have his lips running up and down my..." and other comments had Phil blushing for Ben's sake. She couldn't really blame the women. Ben was just too good looking for his own sake. She shook her head in amazement. Why did he want her when he could have his choice of any woman around here? She looked at the man on the stage and feeling of hopelessness filled her. How could he possibly love her?

Ben cleared his throat and spoke softly into the mike, "Hello, everyone. My name is Benton Fraser. I'm a constable with the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. But this summer I'm a junior member of the Rocky Mountain Rescue team based here."

One of the women in front of Phil muttered to the others, "We're going to Canada next year!"

Ben cast his eyes toward the back of the group and found Phil. He gave her one of his rare, dazzling smiles.

One of the women in front of Phil gasped, "Oh my god, did you see that? He smiled at me!"

"You're crazy, he smiled at me!"

"You're both wrong, it's me!"

Phil grinned at the conversations occurring in front of her.

Ben watched Phil's face and was rewarded with one of her lopsided grins. He strummed the opening chords of his song, then began: "I was born up north of Great Slave..."

Ben's compelling baritone carried across the distance separating him from Phil. Everyone in the audience listened to the troubadour and the ballad he was singing. A collective sigh from the women in the audience rose when he closed the final bars of the melody and applause was widespread. Phil, safely away from prying eyes, joined in the appreciation of Ben's talents.

Ben searched the crowd again for Phil. She was still at the rear waiting for the nonexistent act to appear. He glanced to the side where Darryl and Carter were standing. Darryl motioned for him to continue. There was a decidedly wicked grin on his face. Ben turned his electric blue eyes on the audience again. "I've just been informed that the next group has not yet appeared..." he looked again at Darryl and Carter, "I've been asked to sing another song. Hopefully they will get here before I'm through..."

A series of female voices expressed their delight in the non-appearance of the final act. Phil agreed wholehearted with them. She would rather listen to Ben sing than listen to anyone else in the world.

Ben spoke again, his rich voice carrying to Phil at the back. "This song is special to me. It reminds me of someone I have come to know. Someone I care about." His nimble fingers plucked the strings of the guitar and his clear baritone rose in the opening lines of a love song. He searched the back of the audience, located Phil, and sang the song to her.

Phil listened, mesmerized by the beauty of the song and the message it contained. Ben's eyes locked with hers and she knew he sang the song for her.

"Who is she? Just point her out to me and I'll scratch her beady little eyes out!"

"He's already taken?" The group of women in front of Phil vented varying degrees of hostility toward the object of Ben's song. Glances were sent around the crowd as they tried to spot the guilty party.

Phil was thankful that she was so nondescript as to not warrant a further glance than the single one tossed over their shoulders at her. She would hate to be the recipient of their attentions. She slowly inched away from them.

Ben's eyes followed her progress, hoping she was not leaving the back just yet. Their plan was just getting under way and Phil had to stay where she was for it to work. He sighed when she stopped and waited patiently for the nonexistent final act to arrive. He closed the song he was singing and rose to leave. A collective sigh and demands for another song rose from the female portion of the crowd. Ben walked to the edge of the stage and conferred with Darryl and Carter.

"Are we ready for this?" Darryl inquired, nervous sweat soaking his shirt. Phil was dangerous when she was on the receiving end of a practical joke. Tricking her into singing was tantamount to inviting her retribution. She had a wicked sense of humor.

"Let's go for it!" Carter had no fears. He didn't work with Phil and had not been the recipient of any of her 'humor'. He had nothing to lose.

"It's now or never! And I'm beginning to think we should have gone with never!" Ben, too, had been the recipient of Phil's brand of 'humor'. Then he smiled to himself; he knew how to deflect a good portion of her ire. It might be fun to do just that. "Let's do it!"

Ben strolled back to the stool and settled himself on it. "It looks like our final act is still delayed, so...I'll serenade you with another song." He drew in a shaky breath and continued, "For this song, I'll need some help. It's a duet and I need my favorite partner to help me with it. But she's shy and needs encouragement. So...if you want me to sing another song, let Phil know that she has to sing it with me!"

Darryl and Carter stepped onto the stage and began clapping their hands. They shouted in unison, "Phil... Phil...Phil..." The audience took up the chant and began looking around for Phil. The people that knew her stared at her and those that didn't continued searching the faces in the crowd.

Phil stood at the back, stunned at the turn of events. ‘I should have known! He's the most irritating, shifty, mean-spirited...I should have known he wouldn't take no! What am I going to do now?' She stared blankly at the man on the stage, her mouth hanging open.

The crowd quieted as Ben raised his hands and motioned for order. His eyes never left Phil's face. "I'm going to start the song now. Don't let me down, Phil. This is all for a worthy cause..." He saw the mutiny in her expression but it was too late to reconsider. His rich baritone softly began the song.

Perhaps love is like a resting-place,

a shelter from the storm.

('You're going to need some shelter when I get through with you, Benton Fraser!')

It exists to give you comfort.

It is there to keep you warm.

('When I get through with you nothing will keep you warm!')

And in those times of trouble

when you are most alone,

('You're in deep trouble, T. You're gonna wish you were alone.')

The memory of love will bring you home.

Ben gazed hopefully at Phil, beseeching her to join him. Phil closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and activated the portable mike she had carried with her. Her sultry alto floated across the intervening distance to Ben on the stage.

Perhaps love is like a window,

perhaps an open door.

It invites you to come closer.

It wants to show you more.

('All I have ever wanted, Phil, is to get closer to you—to know more of you..')

And even if you lose yourself

and don't know what to do...

('I've already lost myself and I don't know what to do.')

The memory of love will see you through.

Phil moved to the aisle and started down it walking slowly to the stage. Ben watched her slow approach to him. He breathed a sigh of relief. The words of the song drifted to him. As her part ended he continued:

Oh, love to some is like a cloud,

to some as strong as steel.

Phil's chorus answered his as she gradually decreased the distance between them.

For some--a way of living,

for some--a way to feel.

Ben smiled at Phil, she smiled back. He took the melody from her.

And some say love is holding on

and some say letting go.

And some say love is everything

and some say they don't know.

('That's me! I don't know what love is. Do I love you, Ben?') She stood in front of the stage and searched Ben's face. She sang her next set of lyrics.

Perhaps love is like the ocean--

Ben's voice joined with hers to mingle in a harmony that wove two different voices together into a blend that stirred their audience.

full of conflict, full of pain.

('Pain...that's what I'll have when you're gone.')

Like a fire when it's cold outside

or thunder when it rains.

Memories of Blue Cabin still haunted Ben's thoughts.

If I should live forever

and all my dreams come true;

My memories of love will be of you.

Phil took the step up onto the stage and drew near to Ben. The audience faded away. Her world narrowed to the man seated on the stool, singing of love...singing to her. His fingers moved on the strings of the guitar. The chorus came so easily to his lips.

And some say love is holding on

and some say letting go.

('I never want to let you go, Ben.')

('I don't want to leave you, Phil.') Ben's world narrowed to the woman who now stood a few feet from him, singing to him. He softly sang the next phrase to her.

And some say love is everything

and some say they don't know.

('I know what love is...it's you, Phil.')

Phil smiled and continued the stanza.

Perhaps love is like the ocean--

('And I'm drowning in it...') Ben joined his voice with hers in the closing stanza.

full of conflict, full of pain.

Like a fire when it's cold outside

or thunder when it rains.

If I should live forever

and all my dreams come true;

My memories of love will be of you.

The final words trailed off into a silence that was broken only by Phil's footsteps on the stage as she stepped closer to Ben. She slowly put forth a hand and stroked Ben's face, shook her head, and smiled at him. She leaned forward and planted a kiss on his lips. "I'll get even with you, Benton Fraser. Just you wait and see." Her soft words were carried to everyone via the microphone she still held. The audience roared and erupted into applause.

To be continued (?)

Copyright December 1996 by SL Haas

Revised June 1999

Comments are welcome at durango@ionet.net

 

Fraser’s Secret (Book 1)

  1. On a Collision Course
  2. Nocturnal Duet
  3. Jumping to Conclusions
  4. "In the Kiss of One Girl"
  5. Real Conversations
  6. Icnites, Montmorillonite, and Bentonite, Oh My!
  7. An Acquired Taste
  8. "…a Dish Best Served Cold"
  9. Like Thunder When It Rains
  10. Steppingstones
  11. The First Consciousness
  12. An Answered Dream
  13. Since We Parted
  14. The Fine Line That Separates
  15. Moments of Regret
  16. Benton's Secret