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Need To Be	By : Storyseeker Category: +S through Z > Tarzan (Disney) > Tarzan (Disney) Views: 19890 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Tarzan, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Step
- 2-Closer
- 3-Flying
- 4-Being
- 1
- 2
Every gesture
Every move that she makes
Makes me feel like never before
Why do I have
This growing need to be beside her
-Strangers Like Me, Phil Collins

"Oooh! Daddy! Look! I’ve found the very one!" Jane scrabbled down to all fours, her words directed up the hill behind her. Hiking her well-worn skirt past her knees, she tucked a corner in at one hip while digging through folds to retrieve her sketch book from the other hip.

Crosslegged, she began memorizing the colors she saw. The humidity was so bad; she certainly couldn’t travel with her watercolors, as what a ridiculous mess that would make. Instead, she recorded her find with her leads, sketching furiously while curling over her pad to examine a sizable blue flower, her nose almost touching.

"Such a spectacular hibiscus! The color progression alone, why, it’s as if every shade of jungle red has made it’s way into this one flower!"

"I'm sorry Jane Dear, did you say something?" Professor Porter's voice drifted down to her, muted by the lay of the land and the plant growth into which he’d buried his own nose, ignoring the confounded nettles that grew virtually anywhere he wished to rest his knees.

The two were an endearingly comic pair. He was a short, narrow-chested, and gnarled weed of a man, with a wiry strength and resilience surpassing his advancing age that came from years of field work. She was a long-limbed ragamuffin of a lady, who carried herself with the propriety and grace of a puritanical queen that nonetheless preferred scuttling through hedges on her knees and elbows.

If she preferred, Jane could give the illusion that she should be better suited for entertaining church elders in a proper English drawing room instead of crawling about, barefoot as any savage, in the mountain jungles of Darkest Africa. But in Darkest Africa they were. In fact, they’d surely disgraced their family and colleagues mere days ago by daring to travel beyond the pale and go native.

After all, as their family might have said should their opinion ever be solicited on such matters, what good was scientific exploration and discovery, without attending to a good Christian Victorian's modern moral prerogative to educate the backward unfortunates encountered along the way? Jane and her father had instead chosen to loose all perspective and embrace the ways of the jungle people. But Jane, like her father, cared little for the scandal they were sure to inspire, assuming they ever regained contact with England again. Happily, that prospect was now very unlikely.

Having made his choice, Professor Porter would likely spend his last remaining days, submerged in study in the company of his beloved jungle. Jane, too, would remain in the company of her father, and indeed, one other. A fact that left her flustered, apprehensive, and quite thrilled to her toes.

High above, that 'one other' watched over her, his intense gaze never wavering from her.

Tarzan smiled, his heart beating heavy in his chest at the way simple discovery lit her eyes like sun on the water. Jane. His Jane. He watched her with her restless, searching nature that they both shared; that he shared with none of his…his mother’s kind. He watched her, anticipating the many discoveries they would share together. He watched her, with a longing that burned in his gut.

Jane was his kind. His blood rushed through him in a wash of cold heat. Neither human nor gorilla, they were the same. He’d courted her awkwardly as a human, intent to learn from her; to stand as a worthy male by her human standards if he couldn’t stand worthy as a gorilla by Kerchek’s standards. Now, though he led Kerchek’s family as the dominant male, he still didn’t quite know how to proceed with her.

What he did know, was that he wanted Jane.

Shifting restlessly, he grunted conversationally to his companion, slanting his eyes to Porter, and back. The pug faced black female by his side rolled her eyes and huffed. She vocalized a soft knowing murmur, gazed between Tarzan and Jane, then bared her teeth briefly, barking at him open-mouthed. When he didn’t look at her right away, she rolled on her haunches and swung down to keep a closer watch on Jane’s father as requested.

Tarzan scratched under his matted locks in embarrassment, and sent a derisive cough after Turk. Inside, though, he knew his age mate was right. He wasn’t showing the confidence a leader would show. Jane’s signals might be confusing to him, but she had come back to him, proving that she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

Lightly, he took to the air, the creak of vines on timber the only sound that betrayed his descent.
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Need To Be