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Title: Dreams that You Dare to Dream
Author: VATERGrrl
Fandom: Original (Cory/Lynn)
Bunnies: #1 - Birthday sneezes, #14 - flowers, floating, warm, sudden, "I want to."
Rating: G
Feedback: Would be great, thanks!
Summary: Lynn gets dressed up for a birthday dinner with Cory, who encourages her to dream about the future.
A/N: This is the last of the Oz-themed stories I wrote for the challenge. Any and all references to songs, images and characters are the property of L. Frank Baum and Warner Brothers Films, as almost everything I know about Oz, I learned from the movie, and the 
movie is my "text" for this series. I also apologize to the late Yip Harburg for any taint I may have incurred upon his lovely music. Sequel to "Treasures of the Emerald City".

 

Dreams that You Dare to Dream

Immediately upon returning home, Lynn dropped her keys in the small glass dish in the foyer left for that purpose, then dashed to her bedroom, eager to see what was in the gift bag Robert Marshall had presented her. Ripping through the pale lavender tissue paper, Lynn found a large, flat box, which itself contained more tissue paper. Inside that, however, Lynn found a silky emerald evening dress with thin straps which crisscrossed in the back and a neckline which scooped demurely in the front, enough to reveal a hint of cleavage but not offering the entire cow, so to speak. The small white card that accompanied it simply said, "A beautiful dress for a beautiful woman on a beautiful evening. - Cory."

She placed the card safely in her jewelry box, then struggled to put on the emerald pendant to accompany the dress. Both were difficult for her to manage alone, so she called in her mother for help. Joanne Carlson oohed and ahhed over the dress for a solid minute before she remembered to zip it up.

"Oh, sweetie, this looks so nice on you."

And it did, the lines of the dress emphasizing Lynn's small waist and décolletage while distracting the eye from what she felt were overly broad hips. Thin folds ran from over her right breast to the left waistband, mimicking a wrap top, and the A-line skirt curved out from the waist toward the floor, a softly scalloped hem floating just above her ankles

"I feel like a fairy princess, Mom," she admitted, twirling slowly in the dress to let the skirt flare out like an inverted tulip.

"Then you don't want to keep your Prince Charming waiting, do you?" Joanne helped her daughter work the clasp of the necklace, pleased with the way the rectangular gem settled just beneath the hollow of Lynn's throat.

"Oh, no, my hair!" She patted at her hair, which had been tangled by the whipping breezes near the Freemont Bridge and then slightly matted by the mist off the waterfront, but Joanne shook her head.

"Your hair is fine, sweetheart. Just pull it up in a French twist, and it'll look fantastic." It took a good three minutes to pull up all of Lynn's heavy red curls into a semblance of a neat and tidy twist, but the effort was worth it when she looked in her mother's full-length mirror. A poised woman stared back at her from the glass, turning when Lynn turned and giving the same mock curtsy. The silky fabric of the dress flowed effortlessly with every turn and bend.

"Now, do you want to wear some of my perfume? I have L'Air du Temps, Chanel No. 5, and Vol de Nuit."

Lynn considered the offer for a moment, but then shook her head. "I can't, Mom - Cory's allergic to it."

"Ah, yes, that's right. Well, you look lovely. So grown up." Her voice caught briefly, and she fluttered her eyelashes.

"Oh, Mom, please, don't get all misty on me. Please. 'Cause if you cry, I'll start crying."

"Okay, okay, no tears." Mrs. Carlson pressed her fingertips briefly to the corners of her eyes and sniffed. "But you do look all grown up."

"I feel like I'm playing dress up, though. High heels, this nice dress, jewelry."

"Well, you wear it well." She smiled and patted her daughter's bare shoulder. "Now, Cory's going to be here any moment. He called earlier and asked if he could pick you up at seven."

"He did?" Lynn asked, realizing the moment she said it that the question sounded stupid.

"Yes." Mrs. Carlson nudged her daughter out of the master bedroom and toward the foyer. Just as they got to the tile floor of the front hall, the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it." Mrs. Carlson answered the door, pulling it wide open to reveal Cory shifting nervously from foot to foot in a dark gray suit that made him look like something out of a film noir. In one hand, he clutched a bouquet of purple roses, and the other hand was tucked loosely into his pants pocket.

"Mrs. C!"

"Hello, Arthur. Lynn's all ready for you. Aren't you, sweetie?"

Lynn could only stand there, working her mouth open and closed like a landlocked fish, and as Cory caught sight of her, he echoed the gesture.

"You look . . ." Cory gulped, blinked his eyes as his gaze swept Lynn from the tendrils that escaped her French twist to the neatly trimmed toenails that peeked out the open toes of her strappy sandals.

"You, too." Lynn blushed as she admired Cory, looking as formal, and as handsome, as she'd ever seen him. He'd even gone to the trouble of tucking a white handkerchief into the breast pocket of his suit, mirroring the trend of golden-era movie stars like Dana Andrews and Robert Walker.

"Why do I feel as if I'm witnessing prom night all over again?" David Carlson walked into the foyer to place his arm around his wife's waist, and the other three turned to face him.

"David!" Joanne looked fondly at her husband. "As I recall, you didn't look half as good when you came to pick me up for our prom."

"Ah, but you, my dear, were a goddess of white satin, and all the other boys wanted to dance with you. I got stuck at the punch bowl for hours."

"Yes," she agreed, then lifted her left hand up to him, wiggling her ring finger for emphasis. "But you more than made up for it later on, as I recall. You got me for the rest of my life."

"That I did, and without a moment of regret." He kissed her passionately, swept away on a tide of memories, and both Lynn and Cory had to clear their throats sharply to get him to come back to the present.

"Well, I doubt I could fit into that old tuxedo, even if it did come back into style." He patted his softly rounded waistline.

"Here, let me go put those flowers in a vase, and maybe David can take a picture of the two of you." Joanne accepted the bouquet Cory held out to her, cradling it gently in her hands. While she ran water into a tall glass cylinder in the kitchen, David produced a camera from a bag in the hall closet, and snapped off four or five shots, just as if Cory and Lynn were off to a high school dance.

"Now, off with the two of you. I'll try to keep your father from eating all of the birthday cake while you're away."

"Thanks, Mom." Lynn accepted Cory's help in draping a light ivory shawl over her shoulders, then turned back to kiss both parents lightly on the cheek. "I should be back by...?" She looked at Cory for an answer.

"Ten?" He seemed uncertain, but her parents seemed reassured.

"Have fun, then. We'll see you later."

Lynn's parents scooted the couple out the door, and Lynn and Cory heard them laughing contentedly behind them as the door shut.

"Did you say something to my parents earlier?" Lynn paused on the porch's bottom step to confront Cory.

"Why do you say that?" He had stopped a few steps farther down the path, and stood with both hands in his pockets.

"They just seem so . . . happy."

"Aren't they always?" He extended his hand to her, and together, they made their way to Cory's car. "Your carriage, madame."

Lynn nodded demurely to Cory as he held the car door open for her, carefully tucking her skirt under her legs as she settled herself into the passenger seat. She waited until Cory had gotten behind the wheel before she answered his question.

"Not all the time, no. After the rape, they were kind of distant with each other, like they couldn't think of anything to say to each other, or to me. But now, they've lightened up a lot. It's as if your coming along has helped them relax, if that makes sense."

"I guess it does." Cory was intent on the road, and his answer was a bit distracted sounding.

"So, Lynnie, how was your day?"

Well, it was really odd, actually."

"Oh? How so?"

Lynn decided to play along with Cory's innocent act, just for fun. She was certain he'd been behind the treasure hunt, but she was enjoying the game. "Well, someone mailed me a postcard this morning - or, it arrived this morning - and the postcard said to go to see "Waiting for the Interurban."

"Huh. That's kind of weird. Was it all dressed up?"

Mmm-hmm, Hawaiian shirts and leis this week. And Heather was there, patting the dog on the head."

Maybe she was going to meet Tom?" Cory and Lynn's best friends had met just before the start of the state's case against Lynn's rapist, Scott Vester, and their fire-and-ice chemistry had erupted into a flaming, passionate relationship marked by frequent arguments and equally frequent, kiss-and-cuddle filled apologies.

If she was, she didn't say anything. Just gave me a DVD of The Wizard of Ozand told me to "follow the yellow brick road."

Hmm, well, can't help you there. We're on asphalt right now." He darted his gaze to the rear view mirror, signaled a left turn, and then turned the wheel.

But, Lynn, since it's your birthday, what dreams do you dare to dream?" He turned the car into the parking lot of Jacques' Bistro, an upscale French restaurant that specialized in omelets and authentic Burgundy-region fare.

I - oh, gosh, Cory, I don't know." Lynn gathered up her shawl in preparation for getting out of the car, making sure her dress was still tucked demurely under her legs. "I still feel a little like most of my dreams were taken away years ago, with Scott."

Cory came over to her side of the car to open the door, and when she stood up, he embraced her in a sudden, fierce hug. "Don't let that scum take away everything, Lynnie. Let yourself have dreams again."

Lynn savored Cory's nearness, his comforting strength, as he held her tight. She closed her eyes, and allowed herself to nurture the smallest spark of a dream, the idea that perhaps one of these days, she and Cory could be as happy as her parents. She saw the two of them standing before a judge, declaring their commitment to each other, saw her mother crying and her father beaming as Cory slipped a golden band onto her finger. And perhaps, years later, two babies, a little girl and then a little boy, free to run in the park with their handsome, blond father chasing after them as they shrieked with joy.

I guess I have dreams," she admitted, opening her eyes to find Cory staring down at her. "But they're silly."

Cory's blue eyes were warm and dark as he beheld her. "Love, dreams are not silly. They're what protect us from the uncertainty of the future. They give us hope that there will be something better tomorrow, or the next day, or next year.

I dreamed for a long time that my birth parents would come back to find me, even though I was hardly living with evil step parents, but over time, I realized that everything worth dreaming about was already in my reach. And then that afternoon, when I met you in your father's law office, and you were so nurturing and accommodating when I was sneezing my fool head off, and then when you even stopped by my house to give me back that magazine, I let myself nurture a little dream that you could love me."

He grinned wryly, and Lynn thought that she saw a trace of moisture in his eyes. "That was the dream I dared to dream, and look what happened? You love me, or at least you're making a mighty good charade of it."

I do love you, Cornelius John Svendsen Marshall." Lynn leaned in to press her cheek against his chest. "And of all the people in the world, you love me."

His laugh purred in his chest. "Yes, thank you Stephen Joshua Sondheim. Now, can we go eat? I didn't get one of those birthday cupcakes like you did, and I'm starved."

Hand in hand, they entered the bistro, and were ushered to a table within moments. Dinner was a sumptuous series of courses, vichyssoise followed by goat cheese and asparagus omelets, with small rosemary-studded Yukon Gold potatoes and gleaming spears of baby carrots on the side. They each had one glass of wine, a crisp white pino grigio from the nearby Woodinville vineyard of Chateau St. Michelle, sipping slowly and leisurely. After the last carrot had been sampled and the last bit of omelet savored, a waiter stopped by to clear their plates and inquire about dessert.

"Can you give us a few minutes to decide?" Cory asked, and the waiter nodded deferentially. Once he was gone, Lynn patted her stomach and sighed.

"Any more food, and I'm not sure I'll fit into this dress."

"Oh, but it looks so nice on you. I guess we can walk around for a while, and go get dessert somewhere else. Maybe at the Coffee Bean at a quarter to nine?"

Lynn tossed her napkin at him in mock exasperation. "Cory Marshall, you were behind that scavenger hunt, weren't you?"

"Guilty as charged." He blushed, but he was grinning. "But I swear, I did not force my father to wear that gorilla outfit."

"Uh-huh." She didn't believe a word of his avowal, but she allowed him to pull her chair out for her.

"Let me just go pay for this. Meet you at the coat rack?"

"Of course."

"Superb." Cory disappeared to the back of the restaurant, and when he returned to Lynn, he was carrying a small cube, wrapped in shiny silver paper with matte silver stripes and a puffy silver bow on the top.

"This is for you, but please wait until we get to the Bean to open it." He placed the box on the little rack above the coats, helping Lynn into her lightweight pashmina shawl before offering it to her. It was extraordinarily light, and Lynn wondered for a moment if he hadn't accidentally forgotten to put anything in it before he wrapped it.

"Will you tell me what it is?"

"No."

"Is it bigger than a breadbox?" She teased, allowing him to open the door of the restaurant for her. They stepped out into the warm evening air, admiring the landscaping of purple and white pansies and larger rhododendron bushes around the square surrounding the restaurant.

"Smaller, obviously, and that's all the help I'll give you."

"Is it smaller than a grain of rice?" Lynn twirled around, happy as a little girl on the first day of summer vacation. There were, it seemed, a million stars in the sky, and the moon was full and round overhead, the second full moon in that calendar month.

"No." Cory brushed a hand against her upturned cheek, enjoying her happiness.

"Is it heavier than an elephant?"

"No-o-o." He took the box away from her, holding it high over his head. "Am I going to have to keep this, or will you stop guessing for five minutes?"

"I'll stop guessing, if you'll give it back to me."

"Okay, okay."

A minute later, she tried again, jostling the cube in her hand. "You know, this shape is familiar."

"It is?"

"Mmm-hmm. It's like . . . a boutique box of Kleenex."

"Nope. Wrong."

Lynn stopped abruptly, and Cory nearly crashed into her.

"It is just that size and shape. And that weight."

"Lynn, would you stop trying to guess? You're going to take all the fun out of it."

"So I'm right? You got me a box of Kleenex for my birthday?"

Cory groaned. "No, and no. I'm not that cheap. Oh, look, we're here."

He pried open the door to the Coffee Bean Café, one of their favorite haunts, and ushered her in. They were able to get a booth, constructed from old church pews, near the main stage, where a variety of local and touring artists performed Tuesdays through Saturday, and occasionally for the Sunday brunch crowd.

"I'll get us a couple of coffees. And don't open that present until I get back."

"Okay." But she hadn't said she wouldn't shake, poke, and otherwise fondle the box, which did, to her, feel remarkably like a box of tissues. Five minutes later, Cory was back with two steaming, whipped-cream topped mugs.

"A crazy caramel coffee for you, and a mocha mocha mocha for me."

"Now can I open it?" The shiny wrapping paper beckoned, and the bow shone under the light over their table. Lynn shaped her lips into a pout, saying petulantly, "I want to."

"Wellll, okay." Cory grinned as Lynn tore into the gift, shredding the wrapping paper with the frenzy of a three year old on Christmas morning.

"You skunk!" Lynn held up a boutique box of tissues, the top one crumpled under the weight of the wrapping. "You did get me a box of Kleenex for my birthday!"

Cory sniffed and rubbed at his nose. "Well, I thought y- ihh. I thought you could use a b-b揺uhhh." He grimaced and closed his eyes tightly, cupping his hands around his nose. "Ishhh! Ishh! Hii-ishh!"

"Bless you." Lynn waited for Cory to take the handkerchief from his breast pocket, but instead he just sat hunched over, his hands still over his nose and mouth.

"Thags. Cad you had be a tissue, please?"

"You're kidding." He hadn't used one in ages, as far as she knew, maybe even not since their first meeting, and that only by necessity.

"Dough, I'b serious. Had be a Kleedex, okay?" He sniffed again and looked up over his tightly intertwined fingers, his blue eyes desperate.

"Oh, okay." Lynn took the first tissue from the box easily, but the second seemed to be firmly stuck, and ripped when she tried to pull harder.

"Whad's wrog?"

"I can't take out any more. Can't you just use your handkerchief?"

"Huh-uh. I thig by dose is bleedig."

"Oh, no!" Lynn pulled harder, and came up with shreds again. In desperation, she fished around in the box, feeling for the obstruction, but what her fingers hit was small, hard, and velvety.

"Did you fide ode?" Cory straightened up and stared at Lynn, dropping his hands away from his nose to reveal absolutely no sign of blood, not even a pink flush to his nostrils.

"No, there's . . . " She put the tissue box on the table between them, looking from the box to Cory and back again.

"Something in there?" Cory hooked two fingers into the mouth of the box, fishing out the smaller jewelry box Lynn had bumped her fingers into.

"I'll have to write to Kimberly Clark and tell them their product has a flaw. But I don't think this does." He pried open the box with the hinge facing him, so that Lynn saw the ring inside. It had a delicate round diamond held in place by six prongs shaped to look like the curved petals of a flower, and the center stone was bordered by two smaller diamonds, themselves flanked by v-shaped cuts into the tapered gold band. It had the look of something that might have been made in the Art Deco era, the sort of ring some women hoped to find in a remote antique shop somewhere.

"Lynn, this belonged to my mother, Gudrun, and her mother before her." He pried the ring out of the box and dropped to one knee before his sweetheart. "I see a lot of their strength and their gentleness in you, but you have your own great qualities as well. You're so patient with me, and you understand my sense of humor. You're the person I want to call at the end of the day, when things go right and when they go wrong."

Cory rolled the band of the ring back and forth between his thumb and index finger, the diamond catching the light and sending off little rainbows. "You're the person I want to wake up with in the morning, every morning, and you're the one I want to grow all decrepit and crotchety with.

"Evelyn Erin Carlson, I want to live, laugh and love with you. How would you like to be engaged to be married to me?"

Lynn looked down at Cory, who was still on one knee before her, and willed herself to say something, but her voice wouldn't work. All she could do was sniffle, her green eyes filling with tears that spilled down her cheeks and dripped off her chin onto the skirt of her dress.

"Hey, hey, hey." Cory shifted position so that he was kneeling with both knees on the floor, then pulled his handkerchief from his breast pocket and shook it open with a flourish, pausing to shine the ring with it before offering the cloth to Lynn. "Are those tears telling me yes, or are they saying, 'buzz off, you big galoot'?"

Lynn sniffled again and gulped in a spasmodic breath, pressing the handkerchief under her nose before answering. The rest of the café had taken notice of their exchange, and Cory felt for a moment as if he were in the middle of an E.F. Hutton commercial, right after he'd said, "My broker says... " Everyone was leaning in, awaiting Lynn's pronouncement.

"I would love to be engaged to be married to you," Lynn squeaked out, and Cory could feel his heart kick back into beating. A loud hurrah burst from the crowd, but they waited until Cory had placed the ring on Lynn's finger with trembling hands before surrounding them to offer their well wishes.

"Way to go, kid." Big Larry, one of the gruffer baristas, slapped Cory on the back, then kissed Lynn on a still-wet cheek. "I'm so happy for you, sweetie."

The women patrons, by and large, congratulated Lynn first, pausing to admire the engagement ring, while the men hugged Cory or even, in the case of a few overzealous friends, picked him up off the ground, then offered Lynn chaste kisses of best wishes. A full five minutes later, when everyone had had their glad-handing time with the new couple, Cory and Lynn were left alone at their booth to savor their moment.

"Cory, I - oh, god, I can't believe this!" Lynn looked again from the ring on her finger to her new fiancé and back, trying to comprehend what had just happened. The ring was an odd new weight on her hand, but she was looking forward to adjusting to it.

"I know. When you said yes, my first thought was, 'I've gotta call my folks,' and I don't mean Bob and Arlene."

"Oh, Cory." Lynn felt her eyes fill again, and she fumbled for the handkerchief he'd given her, pressing it first to the corners of her eyes before blowing her nose into it.

"That feeling happened a lot back when I first moved out here, but over time, it went away. This is the first time that's happened in years and years."

"Maybe they know?"

"Maybe. One thing I do know, your parents know all about this. I thought I should ask your father for his permission to ask you to marry me."

"Cor, that's so sweet. I didn't think anyone ever did that any more."

"Oh, there's a few of us old-fashioned types around." He reached across the table to stroke her left hand, touching the ring briefly. "What say we be terribly old fashioned and go back home to show your folks?"

"Okay." At that moment, floating as she was on a puffy cloud of happiness and love, Lynn would have been willing to do anything as long as it involved her beloved.

Hand in hand, Cory and Lynn left the café, the applause of the patrons trailing in their wake. As they drove back to Lynn's parents' house, they said nothing, only exchanged brief kisses at every stop light, and as the stars sparkled overhead, accentuated by the blue moon, Lynn thought to herself that perhaps she had flown over the rainbow, and had woken up to a Technicolor world of dreams that really did come true.

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