When It Rains At Midnight

She stopped breathing and listened. The voice has seemed real enough, but how could that be? It must have been a daydream, a manifestation of her hearts desire. She whispered his name again quiet as a prayer "Oh how I wish.."

"Tell me your wish, my lady and I will give it to thee." He said quietly and gently laid a hand over the one that held his shirt as he sat down on the bench beside her.

She started at his touch and hesitantly opened her eyes. He smiled at her and she blinked, closed her eyes again and opened them slowly. "Are you real?" She asked barely able to breath.

"I seem to be as real as you are." He brushed a tear from her cheek and rubbed the moisture between his thumb and forefinger. "As real as your tears."

She reached out a trembling hand and with uncertain fingers touched his face and felt the stubble of beard there. "How can this be? Your shirt is old and the fabric is brittle with age, the lace rotten with time and yet you're... you're the same."

"I know not how this is, and I will not question it. I will but accept this gift of fate, this forgiveness of time." He sat still studying her face and the emotions that raced across it. In the day light her eyes were a crystal sapphire blue and he wondered what color they would turn when he made love to her. She blushed and smiled at him and he realized that the thought must have been plain of his face.

She took his face in both her hands and leaned toward him to kiss him. His arms were instantly around her lifting her onto his lap. His lips were hot and insistent, her arms tight around his neck. Breaking the kiss she rubbed her cheek against his. "Ow," she said rubbing her cheek, "you need a shave." She laughed and ran a finger down his cheek

"I'm afraid, my lady, I come with only what you see. My straight razor is in another time." He laughed and hugged her to him.

She stood and held out her hand to him, "Wait until you see the razors we have today."