kalimando P st
Resident Telepath
Posts: 981
(9/18/05 1:16 pm)
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The Photograph
Title: The Photograph
Author: Kalimando (Quidam)
Email: harvest_moon_@hotmail.com
Characters: Scott, Jean,Disclaimer: The characters are not mine.
Summary: Scott photographs Jean
Rating: PG
Ororo had promised Scott a picture perfect day, unusual for late Autumn in upstate New York, and she didn’t disappoint him. The last of the geese, which made their home on the mansion grounds each year, were pausing at the lake during the unexpected warm spell. Their noisy chatter could be heard nearly all through the mansion and to escape the ceaseless honking, most of the staff had scheduled extra practices in the Danger Room. Jean loved the geese- the comical way they waddled on land was a stark contrast to their grace in the water and in the air. Scott, on the other hand, tolerated the geese so long as they maintained a safe distance from the swimming pool. Secretly, he referred to them as "Shit Machines" though never in the presence of Jean. She’d have his hide, but then again, she had never had to clean the pool after a visit of some fifty or more Canada geese.
The temperature was cool enough to warrant long pants and sleeves, but the breeze was light- like a hint of a kiss against their exposed skin. Scott wore a charcoal cardigan over his blue button down shirt. His khakis were pressed and wrinkle free, for god forbid a wrinkle dare show it’s face on Scott’s clothing. Everything with Scott had to be in a set order- he despised chaos. It was all a mark of a born leader. He’d been planning this day for the past month or so. He’d packed the basket- a fresh baguette, Brie cheese, several clusters of plump red grapes, a bottle of red wine, and two wine glasses.
Earlier that morning, when he’d leaned over Jean, she’d asked, "What are you up to Mr. Summers?"
He’d traced her lips with his fingertip. "Nothing. Just meet me back up here around 4."
Scott left her lying there as he whistled his way to the shower. At 4, he was ready and waiting, a blindfold in his hand.
"What’s that for?"
He’d gently covered her eyes. "You’ll see." And led her through the winding hallways and out onto the grounds.
When Scott loosened the blindfold, Jean gasped. The sky was a Monet painting. Vibrant pinks, oranges, reds, and purples from the sunset danced in the lake below. Leaves rustled creating a simplistic woodland wind chime. A blanket was spread out near the edge of the lake with the contents of the basket carefully arranged, the bottle of wine in the center.
Jean was at a loss for words. "Scott..." she managed.
"I know," he kissed her between each word, "I’m the most wonderful fiancé in all the land."
***
With the food consumed and the bottle of wine nearly empty, Scott suddenly rose. "I’ll be right back."
Jean nodded, content to watch the geese on the lake during his absence. She lost all track of time, oblivious to her surroundings. Scott used the advantage to take the photograph. Jean had drawn her knees up close to her chest. Her arm was draped casually over her knees, her chin rested upon her palm. The last of the sun bathed the grounds in its warm glow and burned like a flame in Jean’s red hair.
He’d taken many more photographs of Jean over the months, but that one remained his favorite. Scott had captured the true essence of Jean’s emotions that day- a feeling a pure peace and tranquility.
Back in his office Scott stared at the photograph, tears streaming down his unshaven face. His clothes were wrinkled from having been slept in, but that no longer mattered. He concentrated on the photograph as if somehow willing his lover to come back to him. It had 3 days since Alkali Lake. 3 days since Jean’s death and all that Scott was left with was a photograph.
Edited by: kalimando P st at: 9/18/05 1:22 pm
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