there as though he’d known it from the first moment she hit him with
the clipboard. He was falling in love with her.
You’re
an idiot, said a small, cynical voice in his head. How could you fall in love
with her? You don’t even know her. She doesn’t even know herself! Neither one
of you know her name, where she’s from, what she does. You took all of that
away from her. You did this to her.
He
couldn’t deny the truth of it. This was all his fault, and she still didn’t
even know it. She still believed he had saved her, not the other way around.
She had no idea he had taken everything away from her. But he knew. So I’ll
just have to be the one to help her get it back, he thought defiantly.
Jane got a
glass of water while Dean was in the bathroom. She tried to squash the grin
from her face, but she couldn’t. Just his presence was such a comfort. Relaxing
next to him, with the warm, masculine scent of him filling her senses. His
smell made her think of a shady forest on a hot summer day. She wanted him to
come back, to sit next to her again. She was still so sure she would make it
out of this emptiness in her mind, but, until then, he was her safe harbor, and
she was grateful. She just prayed he didn’t find her a burden. That she
couldn’t bear.
They settled
back down on the bed to finish the movie, reveling in the physical closeness of
the other. Before she hit play, Jane turned to Dean, his face just inches from
hers.
“By the way,
you were right. This was meant to be seen. Thank you for bringing it, and I’m
glad you’re here to watch it with me,” she said, with that heart-rending
smile.
“I wouldn’t
miss it for the world,” he answered. Damn, how was she able to make him say so
much more than he intended? But he meant it. God did he mean it. Jane resumed
the movie. Again, he had to marvel at how she engaged with the story. She
seemed utterly enamored with the poetry of it, watching in obvious fascination.
Then came the famous speech before the battle of Agincourt, and everything
changed.
The St.
Crispin’s Day speech, delivered by King Henry to his troops shortly before the
decisive battle against a larger and better-supplied French force, is one of
the most famous in all of Shakespeare’s works. Dean had committed it to memory
after watching that first fateful production in high school, and had used it as
an audition piece in younger days. He knew every word by heart.
Jane
was riveted by the performance, so much so her mouth actually hung open
listening. She leaned forward, as if to catch the words faster as the lines
flowed on. About two-thirds of the way through the speech, Dean thought he
heard her whisper. The line ran, “ Then will he strip his sleeve and show his
scars/ And say ‘These wounds I had on Crispin’s Day .’” He could have sworn
he heard Jane whisper those last few words. But then he thought he must be
mistaken. It was a trick of the audio, it had to be. But a few lines later he
was sure. Jane was whispering the words! The actor ran on, and Jane along with
him. Not repeating him, but reciting with him! “ Then shall our names/
Familiar in his mouth as household words/ Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter… ”
Dean watched her, silent as not to interrupt and break the spell. She stalled
for a line or two, but came right back. “ We few, we happy few, we band of
brothers/ For he today that sheds his blood with me/ Shall be my brother... ”
Her eyes were shining with tears as she whispered, “ And gentlemen in England
now a-bed/ Shall think themselves accurs’d they were not here/ And hold their
manhoods cheap whilst any speaks/ That fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s Day .”
He stopped the film to the sound of extras cheering fervently.
“Jane?” he
whispered, breathless.
She looked
over at him as though coming out of a
the clipboard. He was falling in love with her.
You’re
an idiot, said a small, cynical voice in his head. How could you fall in love
with her? You don’t even know her. She doesn’t even know herself! Neither one
of you know her name, where she’s from, what she does. You took all of that
away from her. You did this to her.
He
couldn’t deny the truth of it. This was all his fault, and she still didn’t
even know it. She still believed he had saved her, not the other way around.
She had no idea he had taken everything away from her. But he knew. So I’ll
just have to be the one to help her get it back, he thought defiantly.
Jane got a
glass of water while Dean was in the bathroom. She tried to squash the grin
from her face, but she couldn’t. Just his presence was such a comfort. Relaxing
next to him, with the warm, masculine scent of him filling her senses. His
smell made her think of a shady forest on a hot summer day. She wanted him to
come back, to sit next to her again. She was still so sure she would make it
out of this emptiness in her mind, but, until then, he was her safe harbor, and
she was grateful. She just prayed he didn’t find her a burden. That she
couldn’t bear.
They settled
back down on the bed to finish the movie, reveling in the physical closeness of
the other. Before she hit play, Jane turned to Dean, his face just inches from
hers.
“By the way,
you were right. This was meant to be seen. Thank you for bringing it, and I’m
glad you’re here to watch it with me,” she said, with that heart-rending
smile.
“I wouldn’t
miss it for the world,” he answered. Damn, how was she able to make him say so
much more than he intended? But he meant it. God did he mean it. Jane resumed
the movie. Again, he had to marvel at how she engaged with the story. She
seemed utterly enamored with the poetry of it, watching in obvious fascination.
Then came the famous speech before the battle of Agincourt, and everything
changed.
The St.
Crispin’s Day speech, delivered by King Henry to his troops shortly before the
decisive battle against a larger and better-supplied French force, is one of
the most famous in all of Shakespeare’s works. Dean had committed it to memory
after watching that first fateful production in high school, and had used it as
an audition piece in younger days. He knew every word by heart.
Jane
was riveted by the performance, so much so her mouth actually hung open
listening. She leaned forward, as if to catch the words faster as the lines
flowed on. About two-thirds of the way through the speech, Dean thought he
heard her whisper. The line ran, “ Then will he strip his sleeve and show his
scars/ And say ‘These wounds I had on Crispin’s Day .’” He could have sworn
he heard Jane whisper those last few words. But then he thought he must be
mistaken. It was a trick of the audio, it had to be. But a few lines later he
was sure. Jane was whispering the words! The actor ran on, and Jane along with
him. Not repeating him, but reciting with him! “ Then shall our names/
Familiar in his mouth as household words/ Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter… ”
Dean watched her, silent as not to interrupt and break the spell. She stalled
for a line or two, but came right back. “ We few, we happy few, we band of
brothers/ For he today that sheds his blood with me/ Shall be my brother... ”
Her eyes were shining with tears as she whispered, “ And gentlemen in England
now a-bed/ Shall think themselves accurs’d they were not here/ And hold their
manhoods cheap whilst any speaks/ That fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s Day .”
He stopped the film to the sound of extras cheering fervently.
“Jane?” he
whispered, breathless.
She looked
over at him as though coming out of a
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