Author's website: http://www.geocities.com/khristaz

Disclaimer: Due South belongs to people who are not me.

Author's Notes: This one's for Erika.

Story Notes: This was written for the second DS lyric wheel. The lyrics appear at the end.

LET ME COUNT THE WAYS

I still dream about you. I don't know how, or why, and I don't suppose I ever will, but even now that I'm gone you're never far from my thoughts. We had some good times, didn't we? And those are what I dream of, the good times, those little moments that defined you, and that made me realize just how much I loved you. These memories are like snapshots in an old album, some old and fading, but always there, always reminding me of the little ways you made a difference in my life.

The way you wear your hat catches my eye, down over you ears to keep your head as warm as possible in the January winds. Your scarf, thick knitted wool, is wrapped around the lower part of your face, so that all I can see is the tip of your nose - bright red from the cold - and your eyes, shining and blue and full of the most devilish mischief I've ever seen. I lose myself in those eyes for the few seconds you take to walk by me, and I know suddenly that I love you, that I want those eyes to look at me with pride, with love, with passion, for as long as I live.

The way your sip your tea as you sit politely in my mother's sitting room nearly has me in stitches. I do my best to keep a straight face, but I know better than anyone how wretched her bark tea can be. While she goes to get more biscuits, you sneak another spoonful of honey into your cup, then turn to me with a smile and a wink and for a moment I am hard pressed to remember my gentleman's manners. I console myself with the thought that we will be married in three months' time. Mother comes back into the room, and you sip your tea like a trooper and make polite conversation, and my feelings for you grow ever stronger.

The way your smile just beams at me from beneath the filmy lace of your wedding veil makes my heart sing. The minister is saying something, but I don't hear a word of it. Your hand is warm in mine; the ring I just placed on your finger glints in the sunlight. You've told me I look like a toy soldier all decked out in my dress reds, tall and proud; if I am a toy soldier, then you are a china doll, beautiful as anything in your white princess gown, and you seem so delicate, as if even a breeze could break you. Your soft voice rings in my ears as you speak your vows, and I answer as best I can, that I'll do my best by you and love you as best I can.

The way you sing off-key as you're getting ready for bed sends a shiver right through me. I can tell you're nervous, though you do your best not to show it. As for me, I don't think I've ever been more scared in all my life. The door opens, and you walk out of the dressing-room into the bedroom of this cabin that Buck, bless his soul, arranged for us to use for the night. Your white lace dress has been replaced by a garment less voluminous but no less lacy, and I am left breathless by my longing for you. You come to me, your eyes lowered, a blush on your cheeks, and as I take my wife into my arms for the first time I vow to always love you, and always keep you safe from harm.

The way you haunt my dreams every night that I have to be apart from you makes it hard to concentrate on the job, sometimes. Especially now, when your time is so near. I know you're living close to town, and Martha Chigliak is the best midwife you could hope for, but I'd still feel better if I could be there with you. My tour ends in a week, and after that I'll have enough leave to last me 'till after the birth. Our child. All I wish is that he or she have your eyes ... and your soul. A father couldn't make a better wish.

The way you hold your knife as you chop the caribou meat for the stew captivates me for a moment, and I stand in the doorway, just watching you, until a young voice snaps me out of it. I'd never admit it, but hearing that bright young lad call me 'Daddy' always gives me a thrill. Suddenly, my arms are full of Benton, but my eyes are fixed on you. You come over from the kitchen, surprised - I'm not supposed to be back till tomorrow, I caught a ride in with Buck - but your smile is quick to come, and your eyes get that gleam in them that still gets me warm after all this time. I shift Benton over, and you come in to snuggle on my other side and we stand there for a long moment, just being a family for the time being, until the young rascal mentions presents, and tears off to search my rucksack while you kiss me and promise me my own presents later on.

The way we danced till three, out in the snow, under the northern lights, always makes me smile. Benton thought we were crazy, dancing like that without music, but I suspect five-year-olds often think their parents are crazy. We didn't mind, we just danced. Your body still felt so good in my arms, your cheek on my shoulder, your hands on my waist just like we danced on our wedding night. I thought then that you were fragile as a doll; I know now that you're the strongest woman I've ever met. Stronger by far, I suspect, than I am. I think of you and Benton all alone out here while I do my duty, and underneath the pain of missing you I feel so proud of you, so proud of your accomplishments out here, so proud of the way you're raising our son to be as strong and bright and generous as you are, and I love you more than I ever imagined possible.

The way you've changed my life, Caroline, I couldn't even begin to measure. Even now, decades later, I still dream of you, of your smile and your grace and the fuzzy red hat you were wearing on the day we first met. And even though I can do nothing anymore but watch, I watch Benton live his life, and make mistakes, and maintain the right, all the while knowing that he will do well, and do good all his life because of you and the ways in which you changed his life, too. I didn't manage to do right by you, my love, but you certainly did right by me, and by our son, and for the rest of our days no one will be able to take that away from us. No one.

They Can't Take That Away From Me
George & Ira Gershwin
From 'Shall We Dance' (1937)

Our romance won't end on a sorrowful note, Though by tomorrow you're gone;
The song is ended, but as the songwriter wrote, "The melody lingers on".

They may take you from me,
I'll miss your fond caress.

But though they take your from me, I'll still possess:

The way you wear your hat,
The way you sip your tea,

The mem'ry of all that --
No, no! They can't take that away from me!

The way your smile just beams,
The way you sing off-key,

The way you haunt my dreams --
No, no! They can't take that away from me!

We may never, never meet again
On the bumpy road to love,

Still I'll always, always keep
The mem'ry of --

The way you hold your knife,
The way we danced till three,

The way you've changed my life --
No, no! They can't take that away from me! No! They can't take that away from me!

End Let Me Count The Ways by Sylvie Grenon: khristaz@yahoo.com

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