Carry On Dancing


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Notes: This is not my best work. It was supposed to be an attempt at surrealism, but it didn't really work out that way. Also there was a gap of over half a year between when I started it and when I finished it. Still, it's not bad for what it is, if I do say so myself.

The Coldfire Trilogy doesn't belong to me. It belongs to C.S. Friedman, who is a wonderful and glorious person, even if they don't make the slash relationship as obvious as some of us might like.

"Carry On Dancing" doesn't belong to me either. That belongs to Savage Garden, who seem to have a song for every possible series and/or relationship in existance. Especially DNAngel. It's spooky.

I do own this fic, so please don't archive it without my permission. If you ask, there is a nearly 100% chance that I will say yes.
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Damien was dreaming. It had the feel of one of the Hunter's dreams, and but for that fact it might have been. Never before had the Hunter given him a dream that *felt* like a dream, let alone one that felt like a dream from the Hunter. Besides, that was impossible, right? There was no longer enough Fae for the Hunter to create dreams, even if he had had his old powers. So it was just a dream. Just a dream that felt so much like the Tarrant that it was frightening.

The moonlight shines down interstellar beams
And the groove tonight is something more than you've ever seen

Damien turned around, surveying the dreamscape. He was apparently in the middle of a desert, the moon's light making the white sand glisten like thousands of tiny diamonds, and reflecting off the pale face of a cliff in the distance. Everything seemed cast into shades of black and white. Damien thought that he had never seen a place more beautiful. Was this Earth?

A cool breeze on the back of his neck made Damien turn again. His eyes locked onto the dark figure of Tarrant, as he had been when they were traveling together. The Hunter stood staring at Damien intently. Damien had no idea how long he'd been there.

As if caught by some outward force (and who knew, he might be), Damien approached the pale one, coming to a halt a mere foot from the other man.

"Gerald?" he began, but the Hunter cut him off with a glance.

"Don't speak Vryce," he commanded gently.

The stars and planets taking shape
A stolen kiss has come too late

Damien put a tentative hand to the Hunter's neck, unsure himself as to exactly what he was doing. With his thumb he traced the line of the scar that the Unnamed One had left on Tarrant's face, marring the otherwise perfect beauty.

Without even a whisper to betray his movement, Tarrant closed the distance between them, taking Damien's lips with his own. The kiss was intense, but strangely cold.

'It's like ice,' thought Damien. 'Like Gerald.'

In the moonlight
Carry on, keep romancing
Carry on, carry on dancing

Just as suddenly as he had initiated it, Tarrant pulled back, breaking the kiss but maintaining the contact of their bodies. Damien could feel the numbing cold seeping into him, but he welcomed it.

Suddenly the ex-priest was aware of music. It was faint but there, unearthly but beautiful. Somehow he knew that Tarrant could hear it was well. He met the Hunter's eyes, and without breaking that contact, sank slowly to one knee.

"May I have this dance?"

You're never safe 'til you see the dawn
And if the clock strikes past midnight the hope is gone
To move under...
the moonlight
Carry on, keep romancing
Carry on, carry on dancing

Wordlessly, Tarrant offered Damien a hand. Taking it, Damien rose to his feet, pulling Tarrant closer. The Hunter made no objections, increasing the surreality of the scene.

In the moonlight
Carry on, keep romancing
Carry on, carry on dancing

They danced a slow waltz. Both of them knew all the steps, though Damien knew that he himself had never danced this dance before in his life. Old-fashioned though it was, it seemed to fit the Hunter's style, Damien thought.

Gerald let him lead and that, Damien thought, was proof that this was only a dream. The real Hunter would never be content to let another lead him in anything unless absolutely necessary.

They moved slowly, the music saturating their flesh until nothing existed but the melody and each other.

Move. Closer. Passion. Stronger.
There's a magic only two can tell
In the dark night, ultra violet is a wicked spell.

Damien closed his eyes, caught in the sensations that the night brought. He was afraid to open them; afraid that if he so much as breathed the wrong way, this illusion would collapse and he would remember that Gerald was lost to him.

"Damien..." the voice was a soft whisper in his ear, but it caught his attention enough to open the desparately closed lids.

Damien gasped. He was seeing the desert as Gerald saw it, the Dark Fae swirling about their ankles, collecting about Tarrant and now around Damien as well.

So this wasn't Earth then. What was it? He had seen Gerald's private Hell. Was this the Hunter's private Heaven?

The stars and planets taking shape
A stolen kiss has come too late

He took the opportunity to lean closer into Tarrant and steal another kiss. The Hunter didn't seem to mind, but when Damien opened his eyes he saw that the other man looked strangely sad.

"What's wrong?" he asked gently.

"I miss you..." breathed Tarrant.

In the moonlight
Carry on, keep romancing
Carry on, carry on dancing

"But I'm still here," Damien protested. They had stopped dancing, now simply standing in a loose embrace. "I haven't gone anywhere."

"No," said Gerald, "but I have. I am no longer myself and you know it. But... perhaps it is better this way."

Damien closed his eyes. He did know. He knew Gerald was gone and not coming back. "I miss you too," he murmured. "I miss you so much."

"Gerald," he asked suddenly, "are you sending me this dream?"

"No," replied the Hunter. "But someone must be, because I am dreaming it too."

Damien stiffened suddenly. It was impossible... wasn't it?

"The Fae?"

Gerald nodded, his face pressed against Damien's shoulder. "I believe so, yes. Maybe... maybe the Fae understands how much we need this."

"How much we need each other." Damien hugged the Hunter tightly to himself.

In the moonlight
Carry on, keep romancing
Carry on, carry on dancing

"And when I wake up? What then, Gerald?"

"Then Vryce, then you will go throughout your day, living your life. And tomorrow night, when you fall asleep, I will be here."

"And what if I never wish to wake?"

"Then there will never be a chance of us finding each other again. And who knows, maybe we will."

"Maybe..."

Moving on... moving all night long



- THE END -
Oh God, that was hideous. Take me back.
or
Oh God, that was hideous. Let me complain to the author.