Title: Inside Her Eyes
Author: malnpudl
E-mail: lcbergstrom@cox.net
Rating: G
Pairing: None (hint of B/G subtext)
Summary: ABH songficlet -- Haven’t you ever wished you could sing with Giles?
Disclaimer: BtVS and its characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Kuzui Sandollar, Fox, UPN, WB, who the hell knows, but it ain’t me. The song is “Inside Her Eyes” by Russell Crowe and TOFOG (from the “Other Ways of Speaking” CD). This is just for fun, not for profit.
Distribution: Oh gosh, you mean somebody actually wants it? Sure!
Please tell me where it’s going, okay?
Feedback: Let me have it. Please?
Author’s Notes: This is my first fic. It’s a brief ABH snippet, a self-indulgent bit of wish fulfillment. Can’t believe I started with a songfic, of all things, but the notion got stuck in my head and just wouldn’t leave me the hell alone, so finally I gave up and wrote the damn thing. (May 2004)
Special thanks to my beta reader, ElizaBuffy, for giving me confidence and helping make this a better piece. (I even took some of your advice. <g>)
The path through the park isn’t on your way, not really, but you’ve got twenty minutes before your appointment and it’ll only take ten to get there, and the day’s too pretty and your mood’s too ebullient to hurry indoors.
You dodge a badly thrown Frisbee chased by an ecstatic golden retriever; two young mothers push strollers side by side, a young blonde woman practices Tai Chi in the sun. You’re not the only one enjoying being outside on this mild late-spring day.
As you round the fountain and take a left toward the oak grove you hear music, someone noodling in a minor key on a steel-string guitar, playing skillfully but without authority. A silky, smoky tenor croons softly, wordlessly, just sensuous vowel sounds wrapped around the notes. There he is, seated on a bench just off the path in the shade of an ancient oak, guitar case closed on the ground beside him. Not a busker, then. The guitar’s an old Martin; it rests on a strong thigh snugly encased in worn denim. Nice legs, you think, and smile to yourself. The rest makes a nice picture, too; wind-ruffled brown hair and wire-rimmed glasses, faded chambray shirt that caresses the lean, muscular arm draped over the guitar.
As you draw near he removes the capo and swings into an upbeat waltz time number in G. You grin as you recognize it.
A turn of your head says I've met you before
You say that's not possible but I could have sworn
That I asked you the difference between sensuous and sexy
You said "I know who you are", that kind of perplexed me, and...
You join him on the chorus, finding an alto harmony an easy fifth above his melody line.
Inside her eyes
That's where I want to be
Inside her eyes
But I'd never rush in, I'll wait for the call
He turns his head quickly, not missing a beat, and flashes a grin at you between phrases. Wow, what a smile.
It's not that she scares me as much as the fear
Of giving so much, needing so little
Of loving so gently
My heart never meant me to fall
Inside her eyes
Only a few feet from his bench now, you stop walking and let him solo the first part of the verse, enjoying the play of muscle in his forearms as his fingers dance over the fretboard and strings.
Now I could be giving too much away
The way that I'm moving, everything I say
Don't say you won't try to tell me you don't feel the same
His voice drops, husky and intimate; you pick up the harmony a sultry third above him.
I picture your eyes, I whisper your name
Inside I'm screaming, outside I'm sane
Soon as you're leaving I need you again
Left with my dreaming it's just not the same...
Back up to volume, you give him the lead alone and let your voice dance around the backup vocals.
As inside her eyes (that's where I want to be)
Inside her eyes (that's where I want to be)
And back down; his eyes are locked on yours and a wicked smile plays on his lips as he sings.
I picture your eyes, I whisper your name
Inside I'm screaming, outside I'm sane
Soon as you're leaving I need you again
Left with my dreaming it's just not the same...
He brings it home, and you soar for the high harmony.
As inside her eyes (that's where I want to be)
Inside her eyes (that's where I want to be)
I never, I never, I never rush in (that's where I want to be)
I never, I never, I never rush in (that's where I want to be)
Oh baby, I never rush in (that's where I want to be)
Inside her eyes (that's where I want to be)
Inside her eyes (that's where I want to be)
Inside her eyes...
He strikes the final chord and lets it hang in the air. The two of you share a smile, wordlessly celebrating the special joy of making music together.
Reluctantly you look at your watch; time to go. You shrug and flash him a final crooked grin, then turn and walk on.
As the path makes a right-angle turn you look back over your shoulder, hoping you might catch him watching you. But he’s looking out toward the lawn, out toward the petite blonde moving through her Tai Chi form with power and grace, a wistful note in his voice as he slowly fingerpicks a D7 to G chord progression and quietly echoes the end of the refrain, “That’s where I want to be... inside her eyes.”
END