"BEYOND THE RAINBOW"

by Jantique

The proprietor of the nightclub stepped out of his office onto the small
balcony overlooking the main room, and surveyed the main room. Soft
lighting shadowed intimate tables for two. Sometimes for one, before one
and one became two. A bar serving drinks ran along one wall. The piano,
on wheels, moved about as required to play that special song for whoever
wanted it. A miniscule karaoke stage completed the room. He didn't
concern himself with the casino in the back room--that was strictly
business. This room was something more, was something special for him.
This was a place for lovers to meet, a place where you could rail
against/sigh over lost loves, and find new ones. People--and beings--who
couldn't meet anywhere else came here. Anyone was welcome, provided they
didn't break the furniture, and were quiet and showed some respect when
some poor slob was up on stage singing his heart out.

He straightened his white dinner jacket and looked over the room with
satisfaction. It was still early, the room wasn't crowded, but several
couples were sipping champagne cocktails. (The drinks could have been
flaming, but they wouldn't have noticed--their eyes were locked on each
other. As they should be.) Sam played background music. (No, not *that*
song. Louis didn't like it.) His lover stepped out on the balcony beside
him, fastening his belt, and looked the scene over with more of an eye
toward security than romance.

He recognized the couple in the far corner, a man with sandy brown hair
wearing a gold shirt with what he'd been assured were Captain's stripes.
(However, that was some sort of Navy. An army man himself, Captain Renault
naturally held the other services in disdain.) His companion was tall with
black hair, wearing a blue shirt. He looked *mostly* human, except for his
ears. Well, you got all types, nowadays. Rick welcomed them all. Renault
knew from experience that those two wouldn't cause trouble themselves, but
if a good fight started, they would wind up in the middle of it.

The soldier-of-fortune type leaning against the bar, gesturing animatedly
at the fair-haired man in white robes. (The latter's sword, or whatever it
was, had been checked at the door. No weapons allowed.) Brother-in-law,
HA! Louis knew something about women. Either the sister didn't know what
was going on, or maybe she did, but either way, sooner or later there would
be trouble. Hopefully not here.

He touched Rick's arm. "That one, sitting alone. He's police." He
pointed toward a tall man with short brown hair drinking beer, making
circles on the table from the glass's condensation. Occasionally he added
long squiggly hair lines to the circles.

Rick cocked an eyebrow. "Do you have a fraternity? You can all recognize
each other?"

"I happen to be a trained observer of human nature. He's American, too."

"Thanks, I figured out *that* much myself."

Rick and Louis sat at an empty table in the back. Things were quiet for a
while. People came in. Ivanova and Gabriella were regulars. It was an
off-night, though, and no one wanted to sing. Sam played "The Very Thought
of You" and "It Had To Be You".

A young man with short strawberry-blond curls walked over to the piano and
spoke to Sam for a minute, then climbed onto the stage and took the
microphone. He had long fingers, a long, thin frame. He sat on the edge
of the stage, his legs dangling over. He was wearing a bright blue shirt
and black uniform pants. Sam wheeled the piano over the side of the stage
and began to play. In a hesitant tenor voice, the man started to sing.

Somewhere, over the rainbow, way up high,
There's a land that I heard of once in a lullaby.
Somewhere, over the rainbow, skies are blue,
And the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true.

The brown-haired man put down his beer and looked up. The song had caught
his attention. He watched for a minute. This kid was nothing like Blair.
He had short reddish hair; Blair had luscious long brown curls. He seemed
quiet, almost shy; Blair was always ebullient. He looked waif-like, needy;
Blair was fiercely independent. Oh, yeah--this guy might be available.
Blair firmly, definitely, Forever WASN'T.

Someday I'll wish upon a star
And wake up where the clouds are
Far behind me.

It didn't matter how far you went, Jim knew. He'd been all over the
world, and never known what he was looking for. When he found his heart's
desire in his own backyard--hell, in his own HOME--he hadn't been able to
get close enough to touch it. He might as well be on the other side of the
galaxy.

Where troubles melt like lemon drops
Away above the chimney tops,
That's where you'll find me.

He wasn't here looking for sex--at least, not just sex. He'd tried the
quick, anonymous fuck route, keeping his eyes closed and pretending with
all his might. That didn't work any more. He wanted someone . . . oh, not
the next love of his life, but someone . . . he could keep his eyes open
and look at. That wasn't a lot to ask for, was it? He was lonely. Maybe
the kid was, too. They could be lonely together. He got up and walked
over to the stage.

Somewhere, over the rainbow, bluebirds fly.
Birds fly over the rainbow--why then, oh why, can't I?

The singer looked up. Blue eyes met blue in a sudden flash of
recognition, a heartbeat-skipping shock of seeing someone you've never seen
and *knowing*, not the unimportant details of name or nationality, but
knowing that this person is the One, or one of the possible Ones. Had you
but world enough and time, you would drink him in forever and never leave
his side. Or pass in the night, it could go either way.

The young man slipped off the edge of the stage. He was taller than Jim
had realized. He quirked a grin. "Hi, I'm Tom."

Ellison swallowed. He was having trouble remembering his own name. "I'm
. . . Jim. Would you like to dance?"

Rick and Louis took a last look around the café. Satisfied, they went back
up the stairs into the office. Jim and Tom clung to each other, slowly
swaying as Sam played "Ne Me Quitte Pas". They had a few hours, maybe the
rest of the night. It wasn't enough. It was all they had.

If happy little bluebirds fly
Beyond the rainbow--
Why, oh why, can't I?

* * *