Title: Unlocking The Heart By: Megs Category: DRR, angst, Barbara/John friendship, Post Release (I think) Summary: "You need to look at the stars, John. Look at them, you haven't done it in so long. Now look at her. You love her. She loves you. She's waiting for you and you won't let her in." Archive: Yes. Disclaimer: Not mine, blah blah blah. Spoilers: Release Feedback: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE hobbit_kisser@hotmail.com Notes: See end. Oh, and thanks to Starr for helping me with the title. Thanks hon! *** The sun had set, the man still sat, staring blankly at the beach. His partner stood beside him. He hadn't moved all day and neither had she. She'd stayed by him, wondering what he was thinking. His ex wife was still there too, though down on the sand instead of up with them. She'd sat in the sand all day and cried, just like her ex husband had, just like his partner had. She put her hand on his arm and stroked it. "John…I think we'd better get home. You can stay with me tonight." He said nothing but started to get in the car, when he suddenly said, "I have to go talk to Barbara." She waited patiently for him as he traipsed down the dunes, and watched them talk when he reached her. --- "Barb…you going to be okay?" She looked up at him with tear stained cheeks, though her face lacked emotion. It was empty, empty of emotion, just as he felt. Not sadness. Not anger. Not anything. Just…empty. She stood up and brushed the sand from her jeans. "Yes, John, I'm fine. He's at rest now…have you been here all this time?" He nodded, studying the sand beneath them intently. She took one glance up at the dark haired woman on the cliff, who was now staring blankly at the water. She glanced up at the star lit sky and sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, attempting to get rid of this headache she felt coming on. "It wasn't your fault." He said nothing. "Are *you* going to be okay, John?" He nodded. "I'm going to stay at Monica's tonight," he said, then added, "On the couch." She rolled her eyes secretly. Her ex husband was such a prude sometimes. "You need to look at the stars, John. Look at them, you haven't done it in so long. Now look at her. You love her. She loves you. She's waiting for you and you won't let her in." "Wha-" "Sleep in her bed. Let her comfort you. Let her in. She wants to be there for you. Let her be there for you." He stared down at the sand, watching tiny grains blow away in the tiny breeze. The woman leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. "Let her take care of you John. Let her in." She turned back, walking towards her car. ---- "Ready?" she smiled softly at him. "Yeah." He slipped into the car, into the passenger's seat as she drove to her apartment. The awkward silence was too loud, pounding in her ears. Say something, she thought. Say something. "Barbara seems nice." Damn you, Monica. ---- He nodded. "She's a good person. She's always trying to help others out, very selfless." Like you. She nodded. Almost there. Upon entering her apartment, he inhaled her scent. He didn't know what it was. But it was forever the scent that would be known as Monica. It smelled wonderful. "You can take my room, I'll crash on the couch tonight." He was about to nod, but instead said, "No." "No, John, I want you to have my bed. You need to-" "No, Monica, I meant-you take your bed…too." She smiled softly again and hugged this man, hoping, though knowing it wasn't true, that this simple embrace could take away all his anguish, all the pain he'd suffered over the past nine years. She told him to make himself comfortable in her bed as she disappeared into the bathroom. He ran his hands down the soft, cottony fabric of her comforter, leaving a small trail of imprints as wide as his finger. She emerged a few minutes later in a silky white night gown falling six inches above her knees. "John…are you going to sleep in that?" she motioned to his suit, which he still was wearing. He shook his head. "I guess not." He sat there, his hands on his knees as she sat beside him and put her hands on his. "Are you going to be okay, John? Do you need anything?" He shook his head. She smiled a soft, sad smile and kissed his neck, then stood and said, "I'll go get something to drink." He smiled, imagining her coming back with two cups of hot chocolate. Hot chocolate…so…Monica. While she was gone he slipped out of his tie, shirt, pants and jacket, standing there in a pair of black boxers, feeling awkward and naked. She came back with two steaming mugs, handed one to him. "Do you want a shirt? I still have one of Brad's…" She stopped talking when she saw his face. "I'm sorry John," she said finally. "Do you want it?" He shrugged. As she left again, he stared down at the liquid. Hot, brown. Yes, hot chocolate. A smile touched his lips. He took a sip of the liquid. It scorched his tongue, but the taste was too sweet to notice the burn. She returned again, crumpled cotton something in her hand. "It's been here for a while," she said. "He forgot it once…it's clean…do you want it? It looks like it should fit." She took his mug as she pulled it on. It was sort of snug, but it would do. She handed the mug back, biting her lower lip. "Well…you get comfortable. I'm going to go out on the cou-" "No, Monica. Stay here with me. You'll freeze out there." "John-" "Please?" She smiled at him, took a drink and sat the mug down. He still fingered the thin cottony fabric on the comforter, he still stared at the small flowery print. "He'd be sixteen now." She looked up from her mug. "He'd be getting his license. He's be going out on his first date, he'd be going to school dances and…" She continued to chew her lip, staring down at the dark liquid in the blue glass mug. She took a drink hastily. "I'm sorry, John. I don't know what else to say. I don't know how you're feeling, I don't know anything. All I know is that I'm sorry." She took another long drink and looked at him. Tears were filling his eyes. She leaned in and wrapped her arms around him, feeling the warmth from his hot chocolate hit the skin on her leg. He finally gave in, sitting the cup on the night stand, wrapping his arms around her again. She turned back and looked at him. He leaned in carefully, extremely cautiously, giving her all the time in the world to stop him. But she didn't. She relaxed and let him lean in, let him take his ex wife's advice, let him put his lips to hers. Her lips were caressed with the sweet taste of chocolate, the heat had turned them warm, and the hot feeling warmed him all the way down to his toes. She leaned back a bit, stared intently at him, breathing deeply and slowly. With that, she straddled his lap, the pads of her fingers lightly outlining his ribs, his biceps, his jawbone. The small creases at the corner of his powder blue eyes seemed much more noticeable now. He was tired. And now she memorized every crease, corner and crinkle in his face as she just looked at him, lightly touching him in different places. When he kissed her again, she fell beside him on the bed, keeping her hands steady on his shoulders, gripping the cool, gray fabric in her fists. She turned on her side to face him, her elbow kneading deep in the pillow he too, turned on his side, looking at her, studying her features, reading her emotions. They were close, less than millimeters away from each other. His hand tangled in her hair as he pulled her head closer to his, as he lightly brushed her lips with his. His hand caressed her right breast, trailing his fingers and hand down in between the two mounds, down her stomach and to her legs, squeezing her thighs, lifting one up and pulling it over his leg. She pulled back and looked at him again. Her hand found his cheek and he leaned into the touch, inhaling her scent of soap and chocolate. "Monica." He whispered. "Yes, John?" "Nothing at all." She kissed him again, this time catching him with his mouth open, leaving an open space for her tongue to move in, to slowly move across his, to slowly work circles around his lips. His hands fumbled with her shirt, then her pants, and then her panties, until she was lying next to him naked, her hand still on his cheek, his hand still tangled in her hair. She slowly removed his clothing, and their cries echoed far into the night. *** Her eyes slowly rose open, her eyelids still heavy with sleep. Her head lay on his chest, his arms around her body, his face in her hair. She nestled against him and pulled the sheets closer as a shield against the morning chill. She pictured for a moment, sixteen year old Luke Doggett, his blond hair spiked, his blue eyes wide, as the pretty, dark haired girl hung on his arm. She pictured his tuxedo, she pictured the girl's pretty dress. She pictured him stepping into his daddy's truck, after opening the door for her of course. She could picture John lecturing him before he sent him off, "Be polite. Open doors for her. Ask her to dance." She smiled sadly. Why did this have to happen to such a good man? Why did he have to suffer? She hugged him closer. "I'm sorry, John." She whispered. "I am." *** "Release" was one of the most beautiful eps I have ever, ever seen. It left a lot of ideas in most fanfic writer's heads, I know it did for me. Luke was a great backstory type thing for DRR, I love it. I hope you love this fic, I thoroughly enjoyed writing it.