Of Lorenz Theory & Love

Jimmy & Darcy: The Final Dance and Proposal

Charmed CW characters belong to Charmed CW. Denis and Tera, Darcy, Della, and Dora Valensi are my imagination at work. Light research was conducted for context.

14 Jimmy & Darcy: The Final Dance and Proposal

11 pm, Oldham, Greater Manchester, The Mauve Flat, July 29, 1941

Maybe, just maybe, I could propose to her. And maybe, just maybe, she might say yes...

7 am-Noon, Oldham, Greater Manchester, The Mauve Flat, July 30, 1941

Before the hour in which the telltale cloud of curls began rustling on the lavender-hued pillow next to his, Jimmy crept out of their bed, quietly donned his clothes, closed the bedroom door behind him without so much as a peep, and tiptoed toward the front door. Exiting the Mauve Flat, Jimmy snuck over to the Tessera Nightclub's costume storeroom; as a seasonal stagehand, he had a copy of the closet key, and he decided that now was the best time to take advantage.

He opened the storeroom, quickly reading through the alphabetized and meticulously-categorized drawers, until he came to the "J" section. He pulled that category's contents out onto a nearby carpenter's table, choosing his wares, then putting the rest away where he had found them. Once he did so, he pulled out a pair of pliers, a blowtorch, and a magnifying glass he had found laying in the corner and commenced the task at hand, alternately squinting and comparing his handiwork with a loop of yarn he retrieved from his side pocket...

11:30 pm, Oldham, Greater Manchester, The Mauve Flat, July 31, 1941

A steady stream of rain pelted the now-shuttered windows located to one side of the Mauve Flat, as they sat together on Darcy's bed listening to her vinyl records. Most were electrically, almost farcically upbeat, juxtaposed against the abject terror happening just outside in the streets. Jimmy, after some time, thought a slower song might better match the inward ambiance countermanded with the solemnity he knew that Darcy was feeling. It was 30 minutes until the hour she knew was unavoidably looming. Jimmy plucked the 1937 theater production of "Babes In Arms" from the pile. Removing the record from its sleeve, he placed the disk on the phonograph to "My Funny Valentine," beckoning her to dance with a single outstretched hand.

She accepted, draping her left hand over his right shoulder, half in repose, her stray tears mingling with his, their feet moving as if tracing out an invisible infinity sign on the bare wooden floor. Their cheeks touched, their eyes for a moment closed, as if to imagine a florid, utopian, modern wonderland filled with a multitude of sparkling tea lights overhead, pristine grass aplenty, perhaps a grey stone patio, far from the whistling bombs, the air raid sirens, the piercing screams, in which a love story such as theirs would be permitted to flourish and thrive surrounded by dearly cherished family and friends for the rest of their days.

11:35 pm, Oldham, Greater Manchester, The Mauve Flat, July 31, 1941

As the music slowed and faded away, Darcy lifted her head from where it had lain on Jimmy's shoulder, murmuring "I wish we had more time."

"How about forever?" Jimmy uncovered a small box from his pocket, and as he knelt down to a disbelieving Darcy, asked her, "Darcy Madalena Valensi, my irrepressibly sparkling sprite of a jazz singer and partner-in-crime, will you do the honor of marrying me, a humble English thespian?"

The ring was a hammered silver circle containing three bezel-inlaid squarish quartz crystal stones; the two smaller side stones represented the past and the future, and the largest center stone stood for the present. Darcy gasped, then nodded, as he slid the delicate-yet-sturdy piece of jewelry onto her left ring finger. "I know it's not the typical style, and I can get another one if you like—" Jimmy began, but Darcy cut him off.

"It's beautiful, Jimmy," she said, absolutely in awe. Once they finished kissing, Jimmy whirled her around, dipping her as if in the middle of a swing dance number, and she laughed, her halo of ringlets swaying breezily across her forehead.

Once the celebration had dissipated, Jimmy stated determinedly, "Darcy, whether your demise is tomorrow, next week, or years after—even if, for whatever reason, the horrors of war separate us—know that I will always find you; our love will conquer the very forces of death itself."

"Amor vincit omnia. Love conquers all," Darcy read the inscription Jimmy had carved into her ring.

"Exactly. Amor vincit omnia." He kissed her forehead, as they hugged each other closely, waiting as steadfastly as one might for midnight to approach.