Walking in a Dream

A private look through the gateway of Gillian and Ken’s love

Episode related: Gillian

Story Notes:

Tee’s song challenge.

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Song title: That’s Amore. Written by: Harry Warren and Jack Brooks Sung by: Dean Martin

‘In Napoli where love is King, when boy meets girl, here’s what they say.’

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After a lovely dinner of pasta, veal, and a few too many glasses of wine, two lovers walked quietly side by side down the red cobble stone path. They strolled on by fine art galleries, charming gift shops, restaurants, neatly clipped hedges, and flowering gardens. The sidewalks were lined with blossoming trees their branches spreading out to offer cool crisp shade. The air was sweet, not too cool, not too hot. Perfection was something neither had experienced much. But here, here, it was like walking in a dream.

The light breeze blew the leaves above them and the air seemed to be filled with perfume, mixed with the aromatic herbs of the local restaurants. It was a cozy neighborhood. The Little Italy District had a lot to offer in its charm, romance and attractions.

But Ken and Gillian shared an attraction all their own. Gillian, with her lady-like ways, and cascading hair that flowed in the breeze like a fountain. And Ken, with his blue jewel-like eyes, tall, strong framework, and tender heart.

The lovers walked as if on a cloud, past quiet alleys, and white wrought iron benches that were shaded by the fragrant trees. There was plenty of romance in the air, in the water colored setting of the sun. Hand in hand the lovers leisurely walked in comfortable silence, delighted to just be with one another. Each deep in wondrous thought. Each searching for their own personnel paradise, and believing that within the other, they had finally found it.

As the couple continued on the sun had faded, and they watched as the moon rose full. The decorative old world styled streetlamps now glowed, lengthening subdued shadows and causing them to dance about.

Under one lamppost, a man stood with a white bucket of mixed flowers at his feet, and a bouquet of red helium filled balloons in his hand. Ken stopped, pulling out his wallet, he handed the man a bill, then plucked a strand of red balloons from his fingers.

“You’re beautiful,” Ken said, handing the bouquet of balloons to the lady next to him, and noticing her face a glow with happiness.

A light breeze blew her hair into her eyes, and Gillian brushed the strands aside, then took the offered bouquet. She danced around Ken gaily. Her high heeled shoes clicking. ‘Tippi-tippi-tay’, as she went, first clockwise around him, then counter clockwise.

Ken laughed at her playfulness, then took her by the arm, wrapping his around her waist, he continued them onward.

The magic between them felt so real. Ken couldn’t help but notice how Gillian walked. The way her lacy white cotton dress flowed on the breeze. There was always an air of luxury around her. He admired so many things about her. To name a few, the way she gently used finger and thumb to pluck a grape from its vine when they’d gone to a nearby winery. The way she always looked so cool; like a forest glen. The way she could type without looking at the keys. To him, she was mystical. Like a secret intimate garden. He loved how her cheeks would flush pink when he called her ‘lady’. How she held such grace. He loved how attractive she looked in one of his plain white tee shirts; the way it just barely touched her thighs. Even when barefoot, wearing old blue jeans, and a paint shirt, she still looked like a princess. She had such a loveliness about her. Ken almost always felt like he were watching a poem come to life right before his eyes.

Gillian always watched Ken with an observant eye. The way he walked. Sometimes tripping for no reason. It was endearing. The way he talked. Sometimes his brain running ahead of his words. The noble way he poured a glass of wine. The way he touched her so tenderly. The way he twirled his pasta with his fork against a spoon. The way he politely wiped saucy drool from the corner of his mouth with a napkin. And to incorporate those charming elements with his most popular feature, his eyes. She couldn’t ask for more. Sometimes Gillian would look into those eyes and see on hundred tiny sun drenched lakes reflecting there. The waters mostly still, and within his deepest shadows she admired his strength, forthrightness, and wild beauty.

Gillian shivered, and Ken pulled her closer to his side. Feeling him looking at her, she turned to catch his gaze, and smiled. Ken gave her shoulder a gentle reassuring squeeze. Their love was a potent force.

“I hope this never stops,” Gillian said, in a quivering voice.

“Not a chance, lady,” Ken smiled. Gillian blushed.

The message sent was simple. He would love her, and she him, forever.

Ken paused, and turned to gently whisk Gillian in front of him.

Gillian stepped closer, looking into his eyes. His hands were calloused, but when he touched her, they always felt soft as silk. Ken took another step, but stumbled, losing his own footing, in his haste.

“Don’t fall,” Gillian giggled.

Ken sighed heavily, now looming over her. “Every time I see you–” he paused to take in a breath, as if he couldn’t get enough air into his lungs fast enough. “I-I fall for you all over again,” he said, then slightly turning his head, he bent down, his lips homing in on hers.

“Vita bella,” he whispered, his lips brushing against hers.

“What?” She whispered back, her whole body shaking with desire.

“Beautiful life,” Ken interpreted, pressing his lips tenderly, gingerly exploring.

He could taste the sweet wine on her lips, taste her love. Their bodies curved perfectly against one another, and his legs grew weak. Gillian could take him over, like a powerful ocean wave.

Just as he was about to take her mouth fully, the trotting sound of hooves, the creek of a leather harness, and the ringing of bells. ‘Ting-a-ling-a ling,’ stopped him.. The pleasing sound captured both their attention. Looking up they saw a luxurious white and gold scrolled carriage being drawn by a large sorrel colored Belgian draft horse. Ken recalled his grandfather had once told him, these animals were strong, able to easily pull three times their own weight.

“Can we?” Gillian urged with excitement.

“I don’t know? Can we?” Ken joked, his eyes shining like a crack of lightening had just split the sky.

“Ken.” Gillian lightheartedly scolded.

“May I invite the lady for a ride?” Ken bowed charmingly, one hand behind his back, the other flamboyantly coming across his waist.

“You may,” Gillian smiled, a rosy blush coming to her cheeks once more.

Ken turned his attention to flag down the carriage operator. Just as he drove near, the carriage pulled up to the curb. The driver was formally dressed in a black tux and top hat, looking very dapper.

The horse neighed and pawed at the ground, prancing nervously. Sensing he must have seen the bouquet of red balloons blowing in the breeze, Gillian looked at Ken, who nodded. She then released the balloons and the couple watched for a moment as they flew freely skyward. Then they turned to board the buggy, the driver, smiling genuinely at them, as they did so.

It was a quiet ride. Nostalgic, and intimate. Like taking a trip back through time. The two lovers snuggled close. Their hearts playing into the sense of the mystery, of romance. They road along the riverside. The carriage and their reflections mirrored in the water by the light of the moon, that seemed to shine almost like the sun. Time stood still, as they rode past garden’s of rambling roses, small cottage styled houses, and larger stone ones, that looked more like castles gently worn by time.

Ken looked at Gillian. The moon hit her eyes and they glowed with magic. He could tell she felt like a fairy princess in a make believe tale. But this wasn’t make believe. Everything about this, about her, was so real. She nestled her head to his shoulder.

“This is nice,” she whispered.

Her voice was like his favorite song. The taste of her, so fresh and clean. The feel of her, so natural, and right. She smelled of lavender. Of fresh cotton. Ken’s stomach became knotted, so in-knotted he could hardly stand it. He felt weak, gasping, felt like a wreck sinking to the bottom of an ocean. What was this feeling? He had to know.

Ken shifted, and Gillian raised her head off his shoulder to gaze upon him. He had a serious look on his face. “What is it?” she asked.

“I don’t know. I feel–” the serious look went away and he started to smile. “Just happy. All the time. Shaky, and nervous. Dizzy, and out of control. Like if I breathe it will all disappear.” Gillian smiled back, brushing a blond hair out of his eyes. “What-what is that?” Ken asked her, cocking his head in confusion.

The driver, not turning around, and not embarrassed to intervene chimed in. “Lucky fella’. That’s amore,” he sung out, giving the lovers a quick glance over his shoulder and grinning.

“What?” Ken questioned.

“That’s love,” Gillian interpreted.

Ken looked surprised, as if she’d broken some sort of big-time news story to him. Embarrassed Gillian looked down at her shoes. Then she felt his fingers under her chin, lifting gently until her eyes met his.

“I do love you,” Ken said.

“I do love you, too.” Gillian leaned toward him.

For a moment their gazes held, then Ken enclosed both arms around her, strong, and his lips met hers. She opened her mouth, and his tongue slow and easily entered. Gillian moaned her pleasure. Ken slid closer, as the carriage rode down a slop. The mist from the river rose around to cover the area, and everything seemed to get watery and transparent, by the time they came up for air, both were gasping.

“Ken.” Gillian’s voice sounding a bit impatient. “You’ve got to live your life, like there is no tomorrow. Promise me.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Just promise me.” Gillian closed her eyes.

“I promise,” Ken said, with a weak smile, unsure of what she meant.

He drew Gillian to him slowly, unbearably slowly. Breath, by breath, until his lips come close to hers. Then impatiently, and equally as passionately, he eagerly captured her mouth. They arched against one another, both quivering, both breathing heavily, both lost in the kiss.

After a time, Ken and Gillian parted. Ken seemed almost frozen by her beauty. Only able to stare at Gillian. The wind picked up. Things got dark. The sound of the hooves against the stone ground now came to his ears in a clam distant echo. Ken was surprised to feel a few drops of rain splash his face, and drip down his cheek. He called to Gillian. Called her name over and over softly. The words sounding more and more like something from the past.

Suddenly he was sitting up straight, in his bed. His eyes were glazed and unfocused, but soon went wide as the darkness lifted and he inspected his bedroom. He became aware of someone there. By his side. Turning his head slowly, he saw the creased brow of his partner. Starsky was sitting on the edge of his bed next to him with a sorrowful and worried look on his face.

“Starsk?” Hutch asked in a moment of confusion. Starsky nodded, caringly placing a hand to his friends shoulder. “Was–was” Hutch stuttered, “Was so real. Couldn’t have been–” He stopped and looked away. It was real. She’d come to him. He knew Gillian had come to him. In his sleep. Hutch sadly looked back at Starsky. “Dreaming,” he uttered.

“I know, partner.” The words whispered quietly. Starsky caringly squeezed the shoulder beneath his hand. Hutch closed his eyes and settled back against the pillows. “Was it a good dream?” Starsky asked.

“Yes,” Hutch answered softly, completely exhausted he kept his eyes closed. Maybe he could find her again, his lady, Gillian. In the night. Touch her in his dreams.

“I thought so,” Starsky smiled, and understood. “Go back to dreaming, partner. I’m here. I’m right here.”

The end.

NOTE:::: Song lyrics below::::::::

That’s Amore

When the moon hits your eye like a big-a pizza pie
That’s amore
When the world seems to shine like you’ve had too much wine
That’s amore

Bells’ll ring ting-a-ling-a-ling, ting-a-ling-a-ling
And you’ll sing “Vita bella”
Hearts’ll play tippi-tippi-tay, tippi-tippi-tay
Like a gay tarantella

When the stars make you drool joost-a like pasta fazool
That’s amore
When you dance down the street with a cloud at your feet, you’re in love
When you walk in a dream but you know you’re not dreamin’, signore
‘scusa me, but you see, back in old Napoli, that’s amore

(When the moon hits your eye like a big-a pizza pie, that’s amore)
That’s amore
(When the world seems to shine like you’ve had too much wine, that’s amore)
That’s amore

Bells will ring

ting-a-ling-a-ling

And you’ll sing “Vita bella”

Vita bell-vita bella

Hearts will play

tippi-tippi-tay, tippi-tippi-tay

Like a gay tarantella

Lucky fella

When the stars make you drool just like pasta fazool
That’s amore (that’s amore)
When you dance down the street with a cloud at your feet, you’re in love
When you walk in a dream but you know you’re not dreaming, signore
‘scusa me, but you see, back in old Napoli, that’s amore

Amore
That’s amore