#and how paul hadn’t slept on the flight over and stayed up all night when he got there

[javelinbk]

“I can remember the first couple of nights,” he later said, “’cos you see, my thing was rape. That was my big fear. I didn’t know what was going to happen. ‘Hello, this is your friendly jailor, I’d like a favor please.’ ‘NO! Not even for a bowl of rice!’ So, you know, I slept with my back to the wall, in the green suit I’d arrived in. It was hell.”

Paul McCartney talking about being arrested in Japan. Excerpt From The McCartney Legacy, Volume 2, Allan Kozinn

[let-me-write-shit]

Somebody To You: 24

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Word Count: 4,942

Warning: Angst (don’t hate me -it’ll be fine!)

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CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

She felt it in the air the second they exited the plane. Vacation was officially over and the heaviness of the ‘consequences’ from the events over the past week bore down on her shoulders like a fifty-pound boulder - not unmanageable, but annoying enough to notice. She knew she should call Harry and let him know she landed safe and sound like he asked. She knew they should have a conversation about their mindset on where their friendship stands. But none of that seemed important right now. It was late. All she wanted to do was hug her parents and go to bed. 

Zoey’s mom practically balled at the sight of her eldest daughter, elated to finally have her home after being on the other side of the country for four months, though she knew the reasoning for her visit wasn’t a pleasant one. Her dad, on the other hand, was more empathetic. He was always the voice of calm and reason, and he always did his best to put himself on her level. He didn’t need to say anything. His hug said it all. All-encompassing, warm, and tight. It made her feel safe and understood. It made her feel loved. The only time an embrace made her feel like this in the past four months was when she was with Harry. The realization would have been enough to make her cry if she had the energy.

During the whole ride home their mom blathered on about how happy she was to have them home and asked about every little detail of their trip to Rome but gave them no room to speak as she carried on talking. Zoey and Katie shared a look with their father, who glanced at them in the rearview mirror, and they could see the corner of his mouth twitch upwards in a knowing smile at their impatience as the red brake lights from the car ahead of them illuminated on his face, making them stifle a giggle. 

Their mom was still talking by the time they reached home. Their dad collected their luggage from the trunk and followed the girls inside, flicking on the landing light. She would have stayed up all night talking to her daughters if he hadn’t stopped her.

“Mary, they’ve had a long flight. We should let them get to bed,” her dad sweetly said, leaving their bags by the coat rack beside the front door.

Their mother halted her talking, turning her head to see her daughters standing slouched, eyelids fluttering in an attempt to stay open while deep, dark circles formed under their eyes. Mary’s hands fell to her side and her head drooped in defeat.

“Oh, alright. The bedroom is all made up for you two. We’ll talk more in the morning. I love you both,” she gave them each a tight hug and kiss on the cheek.

“Goodnight,” the girls yawned, hugging and kissing their dad goodnight.

Just before they began to climb the steps, Mary called out, “Oh, Zoey!” catching her attention, she turned to look at her mom with an eyebrow raised in the middle of a yawn. Her mom continued with a smile, “That friend of yours...Harry? The one that arranged all of this? He’s a sweet boy. You tell him we really appreciate him looking after our girls for us. I was worried about the crowd you’d get into over there in LA, but if they’re anything like him, I know you found yourself a good one.”

She didn’t know what to say, so she just grinned, nodded, and continued up. From the way she worded it, she wasn’t entirely convinced her mom understood who Harry was, which was shocking because you’d think that Katie would have made a bigger deal about it after having met him. Although her parents weren’t home when he first stopped by and knowing how protective her parents were, it wouldn’t be unreasonable to assume that Katie had failed to mention a boy in their home while they were away, especially if said-boy was a famous musician. Plus, her parents didn’t keep up to date on current pop-culture. She made a mental note to talk to them about it at some point during her stay when she was a little more aware and lucid. 

It was only 10 PM, but it could easily have been 2 AM by the weight of her legs as she climbed the steps. It felt like she had rocks in her pockets weighing her down, she almost debated falling asleep right there on the steps. Luckily, she made it to the room, unable to close the door with enough force to fully shut, it cracked open with a sliver of light from the hall running a glowing line of orange on the wall where Katie’s bed rested. She was already passed out on top of her sheets, shoes still on. Zoey managed to kick hers off before plopping on the air mattress in the center of the floor, pulling the blanket haphazardly over her face before sleep overtook her.

The clanking of pots and pans and the loud echoing of her mother’s voice as she bellowed to her husband in the morning stirred Zoey and her sister awake, both girls groaning and shoving their faces into their pillows. Neither of them got the ‘morning person’ gene that both of their parents seemed to have. Reluctantly sitting up, Zoey checked her phone briefly to see a few missed texts from her friends letting her know that they were home and wishing her good luck on her visit with Paul today, as well as a missed call and text from Harry, who simply texted her to sarcastically say ‘Hope your plane didn’t crash’. She grinned, rolling her eyes and almost texting him back before the smell of bacon and eggs wafted into the room, catching her attention. She’ll text him later, she decided, practically skipping down the stairs to the kitchen.

Throughout breakfast, she listened to her family gush over her being home and how happy they were to have her back. Her mom, and to her surprise, her dad as well went on and on about how much they wished she would move back home and how they could turn their office into a room for her if she wanted, doing their best to convince her to stay by reminding her of all the things she’d miss out if she went back to LA, like their traditional fall farm trips and week-long Christmas celebrations filled with light-looking and gingerbread building competitions. And she had to admit, she missed it here. It was no Italy, but the view of their green backyard with their old swing set and trampoline, and the taste of her mom’s cooking filled her with nostalgia.

With each bite of food, her mind became clearer and more awake, reminding her of the reason for her visit. Pops. Katie offered to join her in visiting Paul, but, honestly, she needed to do this on her own. It’d be hard enough seeing Paul, knowing of what was to come, but she’d also be forced to see Michael, whom she hasn’t been around since the day she left, and she didn’t know how he would handle seeing her again. 

The whole drive over to Pops’ house she twisted and pinched the ends of her hair, nervous. How was she supposed to act? She’s known these people for five years, but what do you say to the people you care about after not speaking for months, knowing one of them was going to die? Was there proper etiquette in situations like these? 

As she pulled into the driveway and looked at the front of the familiar brick house, her heart ached. It looked just the same as she remembered it, with beautiful hydrangeas lining the flower bed and a flag hanging from beside the door adorned with flowers inside of a watering pail that read ‘Home Sweet Home’. Before she could even turn her car off, the door opened and out stepped Michael. He looked as though he hadn’t slept in weeks, but had recently gotten a haircut which made him look more mature, despite his sleeve of tattoos and choice of clothing; a baggy white shirt and some black skinny jeans. A hesitant smile formed on his face as she got out of the car, meeting him halfway up the driveway.

“Thanks for coming,” he hugged her, squeezing her tightly.

She wrapped her arms around his waist and sunk into the embrace, the sound of his voice and the weight of all that it carried pressed down on her with him. She was doing fine up until then, and the realization began to kick in. Her palms clenched the back of his shirt a little harder while she forced back the tears that threatened to expose themselves. He knew. And he held her a little longer.

When they pulled apart Michael coughed and took a deep sniff, avoiding eye contact to try and poise himself. As soon as he felt he had his emotions under control, he looked up, and faltered, taking his first good look of her since she got here.

“Your hair is down,” he noticed.

She blushed, suddenly feeling self-conscious, “Yeah.”

He chuckled, shaking his head and looking back at her before nodding, “It looks nice. Anyway,” he cleared his throat, “Come in, he’s waiting.”

Too many thoughts were running through her head at the moment and she couldn’t hone in on one in particular. She felt guilty for being here, knowing how Michael was still struggling to come to terms with the end of their relationship. She felt like she was somehow flaunting that she had moved on and was happy, even though she knew that she’d never do that. She worried if she was giving him the wrong impression by coming, concerned that he’d think there was a chance of them rekindling their relationship. She was afraid to see Paul, wondering if he would treat her any differently now that she wasn’t dating his son anymore. And how would Michael’s mother feel having her back in the house after practically abandoning them for months?

But all of her worries seemed moot when she stepped into the living room, greeted by enormous smiles and cheers at her arrival. His mother stood from the couch, barrelling towards her and pulling her into the warmest embrace, pressing their cheeks together and praising her appearance while stroking her hair. Zoey couldn’t help but giggle. It was such a typical greeting of hers that it was almost amusing. 

Paul, on the other hand, stayed on the couch after a few failed attempts at getting up. He looked frailer than the last time she saw him and was very obviously tired. His eyes looked sunken and his skin looked dull, but he had the same bright and mischievous smile as always, shaking his head at the sight of her.

“You leave us for LA and come back a whole new person,” Paul motioned towards her changed appearance; hair down and dressed more confidently. “You look great, Zo-bear. California looks good on you.”

“Thanks, Pops,” Zoey smiled sweetly, making her way over and gently hugging him. 

His hugs weren’t as tight and encompassing as they once were, but she still felt every ounce of love he contributed and her heart only sank more. The tears she tried so hard to hold back threatened to spill again, and she hiccupped in an attempt to conceal it, but Paul noticed. And the look on his face when she noticed her glassy eyes was enough for Zoey to lose her fight as they began to fall, trailing down her cheeks. 

“Whoa, hey now,” Paul whispered, wiping her tears away with his thumbs while clasping his hands on either side of her face. He managed a playful grin and said, “No crying in my house. I’m not dead yet.”

The four of them crowded together, Zoey being sandwiched in between Michael’s parents whom each took a hold of either one of her hands as they urged her to tell them all about her trip to Rome. Mr. and Mrs. Katro had always welcomed Zoey with open arms, instantly taking to her maturity and charm from the second they met her, and they always made it clear to Michael that he couldn’t do much better than her. It was something that Zoey was proud of; her relationship with her boyfriend’s parents. She knew how lucky she was; not many people were as fortunate. 

That being said, when she and Michael broke things off, she was so worried about how his parents would react that she avoided seeing them, not even saying goodbye before she left. She was grateful that there were no hard feelings, but it now left her with a ton of guilt, no matter how kindly they treated her now, she had to live with the way she decided to leave the first time around. How could she go back to California now? She wanted to be here for Paul. He always treated her like family. How could she go home knowing that this time around it would be their final goodbyes? Knowing that she wouldn’t be here for his final moments? How could she leave knowing that she wouldn’t be here when Michael needed her support the most? Especially after all he did for her when Jess died. The more they talked, the more thought she put into her parents' offer of letting her move back home. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

Pops was doing a good job at deflecting all of the more serious discussions surrounding his cancer, making light of the topic, and turning everything into a joke. It was a typical response of his. He was never too serious, and Zoey knew he’d react like this. It was his way of protecting his family and showing his strength, but she could see it in his eyes; he was scared. Still, the day was filled with mostly laughter and talk of old memories. 

She had stayed longer than expected. It was getting late, now, and Mrs. Katro invited her to stay for dinner, which she agreed to. So, while she cooked, Zoey, Michael, and Paul continued to talk about California. They wanted to know more about her life in LA and the new friends she made. She told them all about Nancy and Rory, her wonderful roommates who were so fun to be around. They were interested to know about their popularity, recognizing Rory’s name swirling around in the various pop-culture social media accounts, though they didn’t closely follow those kinds of tabloids. Pop-culture wasn’t necessarily in Michael’s radar. He tended to stray more towards the punk-rock scene, being in a small-town band as a guitarist, himself, which always amused her as he was the sweetest, most gentle guy she’d ever met. 

She continued informing them of her co-worker friend and confidant, Andy, as well as giving them a general summary of Brett, deciding it was probably best not to discuss the intimate details of her relationship with the Australian hunk with her ex-boyfriend and his father. Zoey didn’t even bother talking about Harry. They may not be into pop-culture, but they definitely know who Harry is, and she wasn’t exactly keen on talking about him when she still wasn’t sure what was going to become of them.

“So, I was thinking,” Michael eased, leaning his elbows onto his thighs. His skinny arms flexed a little as he looked over at her, “I don’t know what your plans for tomorrow are, but I thought maybe we can go over to Jess’s house and visit her parents.”

Zoey grinned, looking at Michael. As she said, he was always one of the sweetest guys she knew. His parents raised him well. She nodded, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Are you going to his show with us tonight?” Paul asked.

Zoey cranked her head to the side, confused, “Michael? I didn’t know he had a show tonight. Must be embarrassed to take me out in public,” she joked, “I don’t blame him.”

The father and son laughed and Michael put his hands up, “No, come. The guys would love to see you. We’re playing at Slyfox.”

“My old bar?” Zoey asked, earning a nod. She hadn’t been there since she quit after Jess died. But she had to admit, she missed her old co-workers. It might be nice to see them again. “Yeah, sure. Can we stop by my house so I can change, though?”

Just as Michael was about to say something, her phone began ringing in her pocket. She pulled it out to see Harry’s name displayed on the screen attempting to Facetime her. Paul noticed her hesitation and urged her to take it. 

“Go on, answer it. You’ve been talking to us all day, we’ll just be in the kitchen helping Carol.”

Zoey nodded, quickly excusing herself to the back deck before she answered the call and Harry’s face popped onto her screen. It was dark on his end, a soft, warm glow barely illuminating his face, making the picture grainy, but she could see the almost surprise in his eyes when he saw her.

“You answered. Wasn’t sure you would. I haven’t heard from you all day,” Harry said, his British accent sounding more foreign to her after going over twenty-four hours of not hearing him or Rory speak. 

She winced, “Sorry, I’ve been a little distracted. What’s up?”

Harry shrugged, “Not much. Met with Mitch and the boys for lunch. Talked about getting some time in the studio soon. What about you? How was your visit with Paul?”

“I’m still here, actually. But it’s going well.”

His eyes widened, but she couldn’t quite see the expression, “Oh, sorry. Do you want me to call you back tomorrow?”

“No, it’s fine. They’re just making dinner now.”

“Oh, okay,” Harry hesitated, “Well, how are they?”

Zoey sighed, pacing the length of the deck. She had been trying to remain positive, but seeing Paul like that was hard. And knowing that Michael would soon be left without a father was heart-wrenching. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to leave here in three days. How do I say goodbye to them?”

Harry frowned, nodding understandingly, “I know. It feels like you’re abandoning them, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah!” she huffed, slumping in one of their patio chairs, looking through the window to their kitchen, both parents and their son laughing with each other as they gathered around the stove, “My mom offered to turn their office into a bedroom for me if I wanted to move back here.”

“You’re moving back?” Harry sat up suddenly on his bed making the light shift on his face.

“I don’t know,” she groaned, “I was thinking about it.”

“But what about Nancy and Rory? And your job? You love it in LA.”

“I know. I just don’t know if it’s worth risking missing his final moments. Michael’s going to need me.”

“Yeah, but you can always fly back,” Harry countered, “He’ll have his mom and his friends, too.”

“I know, but…”

“I know you feel like you have a responsibility,” Harry cut her off, “but you also have a responsibility to yourself. California has been so good for you. Don’t jump into a decision yet. Just think about it.”

Zoey nodded. He was right. Moving across the country isn’t easy. She needed to weigh all of the factors before making such a big decision. She got a better look at him, his hair extra floppy, and his swallow tattoos peeking into view at the bottom half of the screen. He was shirtless.

Zoey glanced back through the window to make sure the three family members were still preoccupied before she started the conversation, “I miss you,” she said.

Harry nodded, a small smirk twitching at his lips, “I miss you, too. And that rose tattoo.”

In seconds, her mind flashed through all of their little moments in Italy; hidden kisses, discreet hand-holding, sneaking away to have sex. Did he think about it as often as she? They still needed to have a conversation. She didn’t know if she was supposed to act like it didn’t happen, or if there was some sort of expectation from her. She needed to know where to set her boundaries. 

“About that. Should we maybe talk about that, or….?” she trailed, “I just don’t really know what the expectations are. Like, is this something we’re going to explore, or was that just some sort of vacation booty call?”

She could see the discomfort as Harry tensed up. He stuttered, “I-I don’t know.”

Her heart dropped. How could he not be sure when she hadn’t been more sure of anything in years? How could he deny the chemistry and the ease of it all? “What does that mean?”

Harry’s eyes darted around, trying to find the right words to say. But the more he thought, the more he flustered he got, “You know how hard this is for me.”

“How hard?” she recoiled, offended by that response. Not because it could mean he wasn’t interested in her in that way, but because of the lack of an answer she got with it. It was a simple question. Why did he have to beat around the bush? Why was his response to a simple question so defensive? “You’re talking about the situation with Rory?” she verified, earning a slight nod from him but before Harry could speak, she interrupted, “Your excuse with Rory was that you were touring and relationships during a tour were complicated. You’re not touring now, so that must not be it.”

Harry shook his head, “No, it’s not that. I don’t know. You mean a lot to me. You know that. And believe me, Italy was amazing. Like...amazing. But I haven’t been able to talk to you the same way since.”

Zoey’s eyes furrowed at his condescending tone. She repeated, “You can’t talk to me the same way?”

Again, before Harry could respond, they were interrupted by the squeaking of the back door sliding on its track. Michael poked his head through elongating his mouth in an apologetic expression for his intrusion and softly informing her, “Sorry, just wanted to let you know that I told the guys you’d be coming tonight and they’re stoked, and I just got off the phone with Mrs. Lewis and she’s expecting us for lunch tomorrow.”

Zoey forced a smile, “Okay, great. Thanks.”

Michael nodded and shrank back inside, closing the door behind him. She turned her attention back to her phone to Harry who sat confused, “What’s going on tonight and tomorrow.”

Zoey rattled from the interruptions, shook her head, and answered, “Michael has a gig with his band at the bar I used to work at, so I’m stopping by to see some old co-workers. And tomorrow we’re going to visit Jess’s parents to see how they’re doing.” But when Harry scoffed, she was taken aback, “What was that?” she urged.

He shot back, his tone icy, “You’re sitting there forcing a conversation about the future of our relationship meanwhile you’re spending the entire weekend with your ex-boyfriend who’s still in love with you? That makes perfect sense. Is that why you want to move back there? It’s to be closer to him, not Paul, right?”

Zoey’s mouth fell, shocked by his insinuation. This is not how she wanted the conversation to go. She wasn’t expecting this to turn into an argument, and she felt stupid for not realizing that it could have. She knew that there would be consequences, she just didn’t know if it would be good or bad. She supposed this answered that question. Still, frustration rose from within her gut. Harry knew her better than most. She even hazard a guess that he knew her better than Michael. How could he even think those things?

She felt the urge to defend herself, and she did, her demeanor angrier now, as she tried her best to keep her voice down, “You’ve got to be kidding me. Harry, I’m here because a man that I love and respect is dying. And I tell you that while I’m visiting that man, who will be attending the show tonight, by the way, I’ll also be visiting the parents of my dead best friend. But you’re concerned that my ex will be with me when you should be more concerned with the fact that I have so much death surrounding me that I feel like I’m dying myself. You, of all people, should understand that,” she spat. 

Anger rose in her as she continued, “How often have I even mentioned Michael to you aside from when you’ve asked? You don’t think I would have stuck around here if I still wanted to be with him? I’m the one that ended our relationship in the first place. Meanwhile, you’re over there not even sure of what you want to do about us. I’m just another indecision in your little black book of could-be girlfriends. Another idiot that left it all out on the table just for you to shrug your shoulders at.” 

Zoey began to laugh. She couldn’t help it, she always had a bad habit of laughing at inappropriate times. But how could she not? She felt stupid to believe that she could be anything more to Harry. It was a miracle enough that he even knew who she was. But she didn’t deserve to be one of THOSE girls. If the past year has taught her anything, it’s how to love herself more. She deserved better. “You say I’m forcing this conversation, but you could just have easily told me that you didn’t want to date me and it would have been fine. I would have let it be and we could have carried on like things were. Instead, you make excuses like you always do. You say you can’t talk to me the same as you used to, but who’s fault is that? I haven’t hidden anything from you. I haven’t treated you any differently. You can’t blame a kiss on the lack of communication. The lack of communication is because of your own insecurities, not because we fucked.”

Harry listened. She knew he was hanging onto every word she said. She knew that she had plucked at one of his heartstrings by the tremble in his jaw and his unsteadiness of his hands, but he needed to hear it. She wasn’t saying any of this to be mean. She couldn’t fault him if he didn’t want to be with her, but he also needed to understand how his actions made people feel. His indecisiveness in relationships and the assumptions he makes based on nothing but jealousy affected more than just herself. And if anyone can get that through his head, she could. Even if it meant ruining their friendship.

Her demeanor had calmed, though her head and chest were still pounding. She sighed, looking at Harry through her phone, “I’m sorry you feel like you can’t talk to me anymore. Really, truly I am. You’re my best friend and I wish it weren’t that way. But if we can’t be honest with each other and say what we really feel…” she paused for a moment, contemplating whether or not she wanted to say the words. But she saw no way around it. She valued herself and her friendships more than that, “...that’s not the kind of friendship either of us deserves.”

There was a long silence. So long she was sure the sun would set any minute. Finally, Harry spoke, his voice quivering, “What are you saying?” 

Zoey’s head fell, not wanting to see the sadness in his eyes. She still wasn’t sure she was doing the right thing, but she needed to have faith in her decisions. There was too much on the line right now than to be selfish enough to force a seemingly one-sided friendship. Her voice was soft, so soft that it was barely audible in a desperate attempt to hide the shakiness as she spoke, “I’m sorry, H. I’ve got to go.”

Harry’s phone went back to the home screen as Zoey ended the call, and he stared at it, half expecting to see Zoey’s face reappear at any minute, laughing and telling him that she was just kidding. But, when that didn’t happen, he screamed and threw his phone across his living room, loudly clamoring as it collided with the bottom of the wall and bouncing several times along the hardwood floor, sliding the length of the room. Why the fuck was he like that? Why did he always have to immediately jump to offense as soon as anyone got too close or things got too uncomfortable? He did it to himself every time. She was right. Every word she spoke. 

In truth, he never suspected she thought anything more of her relationship with Michael than what she said in the past. She never gave him any reason to doubt her. Harry believed her, so he didn’t know why he would even accuse her of anything else. The accusation was impulsive to him, immediately jumping to it because that’s what typically happened when in situations like these; the girl he was interested in always left him for someone else. Just like Rory and Brett. He fucked up. He knew he did. But how does he fix it?

KEEP READING

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[datleggy]

Prompt: Eddie and Buck hook up one night and Buck  is thrilled and happy. But then he wakes up the next morning and Eddie is gone. For the next few days He’s not answering Buck’s calls or texts and Buck convinced himself that Eddie regrets what happened. Eddie wants to talk to Buck but he is so overwhelmed by his feelings that he doesn’t want to talk until his head is clear. But when he does see Buck again, he’s shocked that buck thinks he regrets their hookup and has to console an upset buck

note: i accidentally deleted this prompt while trying to edit so that’s why it’s not in it’s usual ASK format, my b.

Christopher’s at a sleepover at his friend Paul’s house for the night so Buck invites Eddie over for pizza, some beers, and of course, for a rematch. “Look, I went easy on you last time because Christopher was here and I didn’t want you to get slammed in front of your own kid like that.” he teases.

Eddie grins. “Oh is that so?” he tips his beer back, downing a swig.

Maybe it’s the beer–though between the two of them they’ve barely gone through a six pack–but one minute they’re ribbing each other in the kitchen, and the next Buck’s sitting on the counter and Eddie’s in between his legs, with an arm at either side of him and they’re making out like horny teenagers.

They don’t stop to talk or even take a breath, hurriedly ripping each other’s clothes off as they clumsily make their way upstairs to Buck’s bedroom. Eddie practically tosses Buck onto the mattress and then he’s on top of him, marking a trail down his neck and fuck, Buck can’t remember the last time he felt this desperate. He groans, thrusting his hips into Eddie’s, wanting more. He’s so dizzy with lust he almost can’t believe this is actually happening…

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Buck wakes up the next morning to discover that the side of his bed is cold and empty. He shimmies on a pair of boxer shorts and makes his way downstairs. “Eddie?” he calls out, but silence is his only answer. Eddie’s clothes, which had lain strewn across the kitchen and his bedroom floor are gone, and so is the man himself.

“Shit.” This is what he’d been afraid of. This is why he hadn’t made a move before last night. Buck shakes his head to rid himself of those thoughts. There are other reasons Eddie could have for leaving without saying anything; other reasons besides regret, that is.

Buck calls him but gets sent straight to voicemail after a couple of rings. Sighing, he chooses to text him instead. He’s not sure what to say, except a simple: Hey?

He’s not working today, and neither is Eddie, if he remembers the schedule right--it’s Saturday and their next shift together isn’t until Monday.

Buck really hopes Eddie responds or even calls him back before then, because he doesn’t think he can stand to wait until then to talk.

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Buck texts him again on Sunday: Everything ok?

And still nothing on Eddie’s end. It’s frustrating and the idea that he might’ve just ruined his relationship with his best friend is driving him up a goddamn wall.

Maddie invites him out to lunch but he declines, lying that he’s busy today. He knows that if he were to see her he wouldn’t be able to help himself and he’d end up spill all of his insecurities and anxieties over what happened. And the way it’s looking, it’s likely that Eddie regrets having slept with him and would prefer to keep it a secret.

That thought stings and Buck spends most of his lazy Sunday curled up in bed listening to very cheesy sad love songs.

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The next morning rolls around and Buck thinks about calling out sick. Partly because he doesn’t know how to face Eddie after what happened over the weekend---he couldn’t stand it if his fears were to be confirmed. And in part because he spent the night before tossing and turning and never did actually get any sleep beyond a couple of very restless hours.

He wakes up with a headache pounding behind his right eye and by the time he parks his car in the lot at work he’s starting to reconsider his decision not to call out of work. He’s absolutely miserable.

“G’morning Buck, how was your weeke---woah, hey, you alright?” Bobby stops him on his way into the station, concern knitting his brows together.

Buck sighs. “I’m ok, just tired. My upstairs neighbors were partying all night so I didn’t really get a lot of sleep.” he lies. He can’t tell his Captain the truth. Though sometimes Buck has a sneaking suspicion that Bobby has already caught onto the stupidly longing looks Buck can’t stop giving Eddie...

Bobby pats him on the shoulder and squeezes lightly. “C’mon, it’s still early, take a nap in the bunks.”

Of course that’s the exact moment in which the alarm decides to sound.

Bobby gives him a sympathetic look but Buck shakes it off. He’s got a job to do.

He and Eddie end up riding on different rigs to the emergency call and even when they’re on the scene Eddie, who’s usually standing by his side, stays as far away as possible, lingering on the sidelines, waiting for orders.

The Captain sends Chim and Hen to search the first five floors of a building for anyone who hasn’t left the offices during the fire drill, and sends Buck and Eddie to check floors six through ten.

Eddie and Buck take the stairs up in silence, the only sound being their heavy footsteps as they climb in full gear.

They start at the top and make their way down, clearing the floors as they go. It’s only when they reach the sixth floor that either man speaks to the other.

“Hey, listen, about Friday...” Eddie starts, pausing to get his thoughts together.

Buck gulps, stopping dead in his tracks. He turns around, nervousness making his stomach queasy.

“I know I left kind of suddenly, the next morning.” Eddie sighs, looking away.

Buck’s palms are clammy and his headache is not letting up and he really shouldn’t have skipped breakfast this morning. He’s starting to feel faint, especially after climbing ten flights, wearing roughly an extra forty to fifty pounds of firefighting gear to top it off. He’s glad this isn’t a real emergency, and just a drill.

“Buck?” Eddie notices the way his best friend is swaying on his feet and closes the distance between them quickly, grabbing his shoulders to help keep him fully upright. “What’s wrong? Is it the blood thinners?” He read in a medical journal, after Buck was started on the Warfarin by his doctor, that a possible side effect might include the occasional dizzy spell.

Buck shakes his head blearily, his hands coming up to grasp Eddie’s, to steady himself. “Sorry, I think I need to sit down.” he breathes out.

Eddie helps him take off all of the gear and then he wheels an office desk chair under Buck’s butt. “I’m gonna’ call Cap.”

“No!” Buck half shouts. He stands up too fast and nearly makes himself sick. Not that he has anything in his stomach to throw up.

“Woah, it’s ok, sit, sit, I won’t call Bobby, just sit for me, yeah?” Eddie gently pushes him back into the seat. “You’re pale, did you take your meds this morning?”

Buck nods. “It’s not that.” he looks away, “I just, I had trouble sleeping last night...and the night before that, and I was too nervous to eat this morning so I skipped breakfast and that combined with no sleep for the past two days plus,” he gestures vaguely towards the stairwell. “It’s nothing, I just need to eat something and I’ll be fine. If Bobby hears about this he’ll freak.”

Eddie searches in one of his various pockets and comes up with a granola bar---blueberry, Buck’s favorite--- “Here, eat this. I’m gonna get you a cup of water.” He fills a plastic cup with water from the office cooler and hands it to Buck after he’s eaten at least half the bar.

“Thanks.” Buck actually feels a lot better. He could still use a good eight hours of sleep, if he’s being honest with himself.

Eddie chews on his lip. “Buck, I’m sorry.”

Buck looks up. “What?”

“It’s because of me, right? That you couldn’t sleep, and that you couldn’t eat this morning? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have left without saying anything like that. I just needed some time to gather my thoughts, but I realize now that wasn’t fair to you.” Eddie grimaces.

Buck shakes his head. “No, it’s fine, Eddie, you had every right to leave, I totally get if what happened that day between us, if you regret that, and if you never wanna’ speak of it again, I respect that, I won’t say anything, we can pretend it never happened.” Buck finally looks up, fear and anxiety brewing in those baby blues. “But I can’t not be friends, Eddie; if I fucked everything up by acting on these feelings I’m so sorry and I promise I’ll keep them under wraps. You’re my best friend, I---” he stops himself, clenching at the armrests in despair. “Can we please please pretend Friday night never happened. I’ll never bring it up again and we can go back to normal, I swear.” it breaks his entire heart to say the words, but if it’s between nothing and hiding his true feelings, he’ll take the latter.

Eddie takes a big deep breath and kneels down in front of Buck, so that he’s staring up at him, his big brown eyes shining. “Is that really how you feel? About us? About what happened on Friday? Be honest with me, I promise I won’t be mad.”

Buck tries to say ‘Yes, that’s how I feel. It’s gonna’ be weird, please let’s stay friends’ but he can’t lie. Not when he’s looking into those eyes. Not when Eddie’s hand is on his knee, not when the man carries around an assortment of his favorite granola bars in his work clothes....

“Fuck, Eddie,” his voice cracks. “I’m so in love with you it’s stupid. I’m sorry.” his breath hitches, and maybe it’s the days of waiting by his phone anxiously, the lack of sleep, who knows, but actual tears spring up in his eyes and Buck is embarrassed to find himself shedding tears. As if this wasn’t humiliating enough.

He’s waiting for Eddie’s rejection. Bracing himself for the “I’m sorry I don’t feel the same”.

“I’m sorry.” he starts.

And there it is. Fuck. Why does he always have to wear his stupid heart on his stupid sleeve? Fuck.

“I left because I was overwhelmed by my own feelings and I needed time and space to sort through everything. I’m sorry I didn’t communicate better. I just kinda’ ghosted you like an asshole.” Eddie reaches up and takes Buck’s face into his hands. “I have been in love with you for longer than I’d cared to admit. Friday night was amazing and I’m just sorry it took me so long to finally act on my feelings. Buck, I love you so much it drives me crazy just thinking about it. When I woke up Saturday morning and you were there, sleeping beside me? God, I was so happy I didn’t know what to do with myself. I haven’t been that happy in so long I honestly didn’t know what the hell to do with myself. That scared the crap out of me so I ran. I’m sorry.”

Buck doesn’t hesitate, throwing himself from the chair and into Eddie’s arms, colliding into him with an oomph!

Eddie holds Buck tight, arms wrapping around his waist to pull him in closer. “I love you.” he says again, pulling back only slightly, and only so they can lock lips. This kiss is different than their first, which was hot and unthinking and desperate. This kiss is soft and tender and so so warm and Buck groans into it, melts into Eddie’s embrace.

“Not to ruin the mood, boys, but uh, your comms are still on, so whenever you two are done um, clearing that last floor, please report back to the rig.” Captain Nash’s extremely amused voice rings out on their comms, startling the men into bumping foreheads. They can hear Hen and Chim giggling like school kids in the background.

Eddie clears his throat. “Copy that Cap.”

Immediately they turn off their comms and both break out into uproarious laughter.

“Well shit.” It was no wonder they’d been left undisturbed up until now, when they’d clearly taken much too long to check the measly five floors they’d been assigned...

[mithranqueersmusings]

Baby, You’re A Rich Man XXVII

Chapter: 27/28

Rating: U

Summary: Ringo could never understand why that group of three boys made him feel so uncomfortable, or why the way George looked at him sent him into a panic. After a chance encounter Ringo discovers the truth and has no clue what to do with the information.

Tags: AU - Gangsters, Slow Burn, Smut, Eventual Romance, Violence, Angst

Pairings: George Harrison/Ringo Starr, John Lennon/Paul McCartney

AO3 link here / Fic masterlist here

At first George suggested waking John and Paul up so that they could all go out to get some breakfast together, but Ringo thought they looked so peaceful that disturbing them was out of the question. Instead Ringo decided to make the most of their shared bedroom considering they'd be heading home soon, and crawled into the next bed and beckoned George to join him. John stirred a little with their movements but remained asleep, his arm loosely wrapped around Paul. Even though Ringo had spent most of the last three days sleeping, the comfort and familiarity of lying with the three of them meant he was asleep in a matter of minutes. George held Ringo tighter than he usually did, as if he was at risk of slipping away while he slept, which was yet another sign to Ringo that George was still struggling.

Ringo had been suffering with disturbing dreams since the incident, nightmares would've been a more accurate way to describe them, yet he hadn't made any mention of them lest the boys become even more worried about him. Oftentimes they would begin with the final moments he remembered after being shot before he passed out: the searing pain in his stomach and the wet blood on his hand. George's face was warped in terror, his skin pale and eyes wide, with an expression that Ringo hoped he'd never have to see again. Then it could go a number of ways, the first night he'd dreamt about bleeding out on the cold concrete seeing nothing but the night sky above him; the second night his brain tried to reconstruct George's story of the three of them trying to carry him to the hospital, their hands getting covered in his blood and tears streaming down their face; but the third night had been the most unsettling. It started as the previous ones had done except this time George wasn't distraught, instead he stood above Ringo with a cold expression, later to be joined by Paul and John who just stared down at him while he bled out. It felt unbelievably real, as the worst nightmares often do, and Ringo tried to call out desperately for George but he didn't react. The three of them began to leave but halted when Ringo screamed out for help, leading George to pick up the gun from the floor to aim it at Ringo's head. Ringo then began to cry, reduced to a babbling mess as he felt his life slowly seeping out of him. Before George pulled the trigger, he spat onto the ground next to his dying boyfriend then spoke a single word.

"Pathetic." He said, almost a whisper and twisted with disgust.

Then he pulled the trigger.

Ringo had awoken with a start when he'd had that dream, he was sweating all over and felt an unshakeable panic. George hadn't stirred in his seat where he slept, it was almost impossible to wake him from a deep sleep, but the sight of his peaceful slumber allowed Ringo to calm down easily.

Sleeping now in their hotel room, Ringo managed to shake off the haunting images for a while but he couldn't help tossing and turning as he slept. The four of them lay asleep until the early afternoon, and Paul had been the first to wake. He didn't notice Ringo in the bed beside him at first, it wasn't until he opened the curtains and turned back to face the room when he saw him sleeping. Immediately Paul woke John, which was a task in itself, who protested the rude awakening until he realised the reason for it. Paul hadn't wanted to wake Ringo, he figured he could do with the rest, but John couldn't contain his excitement that he was finally out of the hospital; he wrapped his arms around Ringo tightly and began chanting his name loudly, rolling him back and forth gently. It wasn't what Ringo was expecting to wake up to, but there are definitely worst things to see first thing than John's beaming smile. Ringo began to laugh as John continued his shenanigans, but had to push him away when he felt pain growing in his stomach.

"You'll send him back to hospital acting like that." Paul chuckled as John rolled away.

"Not our Ringo, he's invincible!" John was the happiest Ringo had seen him for a while, and it warmed his heart.

"Time for a celebratory breakfast?" Paul suggested as he searched the floor for some clothes.

"Everything's a celebration to you, isn't it Paul?" Ringo asked with a grin.

"Is that a bad thing?" Paul retorted with a smile.

As they often did, they had to make multiple attempts to wake George up. Ringo always tried at first by pressing a soft kiss on his lips, cheek or forehead and whispering his name but it almost never worked; that wasn't going to stop Ringo from trying though. Ringo had thought that George looked a little unsettled as he slept, his brows knitting together, but he wasn't sure if he was having a nightmare or his body was trying to fight waking up. Ringo hoped it was the latter, he dreaded to think that George had been suffering in his sleep just as he had been. In the end it took John ripping the covers off the bed and thumping George with a pillow several times before his eyes even began to open, he looked a little startled but settled down immediately.

They headed out to the same cafe they'd been frequenting since they arrived in Hamburg and each ordered a fry up; Ringo felt like he hadn't eaten properly for a week and gobbled down his food happily. George didn't seem to have much an appetite, which was uncharacteristic, but he claimed it was because he'd only just woken up. Ringo had been more than happy to help him clear his plate, the sight seemed to cheer George up. While they ate Paul revealed that Brian had asked him to get Ringo to call him as soon as possible.

"So you should probably give him a ring when we're back at the hotel." Paul explained between mouthfuls.

"God I hope he isn't mad." Ringo said anxiously.

"If you can survive a gunshot, I think you can survive a telling off from Brian." John chuckled.

"He probably won't tell you off, just wants to see that you're alright." George explained.

Ringo couldn't help feeling a little nervous but he tried not to show it, he didn't want to ruin the pleasant atmosphere. George slowly seemed to be getting back to his normal self, Ringo supposed that being out of that hospital bed was already a huge step in the right direction, but he was still a little distant. Paul and John didn't seem to be taking much notice of it, but Ringo wondered whether they'd merely gotten used to George being like this or whether they didn't pick up on the same subtleties that he did. After finishing their food and sitting around chatting for a while they headed back to their room. Paul dialled Brian's number and handed the phone to Ringo who accepted it gingerly, then headed into the bedroom with John to give him some privacy. George sat beside Ringo but kept enough distance so that it didn't look like he was hovering over him.

"Hello?" Brian's voice spoke through the phone.

"Hi Brian, it's Ringo." Ringo replied, wishing he'd cleared his throat before he spoke.

"Oh Ringo, what a relief!" Brian shifted away from his more professional tone of voice "How are you doing?"

"Not too bad, just very lucky to be alive I suppose."

"Very lucky. My heart dropped when I heard the news, I'm so very glad that you're alright."

"Thank you..."

"Paul told me everything that happened and I just want you to hear from me first that you haven't done anything wrong. Granted the whole situation could've gone a lot better, or even a lot worse considering the risk you took, but there's not much use dwelling on that now, is there?"

"I suppose not." Ringo couldn't help feeling a little on edge despite Brian's warm tone.

"I mostly wanted just wanted to ensure that you were okay. I partly blame myself of course, but I suppose in the end it was a positive that you were there or else-" He paused "Have you given any thought to when you might come home?"

"Oh... Not really." Ringo stopped to think about John's burning desire to stay in Hamburg but he didn't suppose there was much use now "As soon as possible I suppose." He looked over at George who just nodded.

"Splendid, I do think that's for the best. Hopefully this is the last we hear from those rotten lot, but its probably in your best interest to get you out of harm's way."

Ringo couldn't help but be amused by the fact that they'd been sent here for that very same reason, to avoid the Chapman group "Sounds good to me."

"I can get a flight sorted for tomorrow morning, does that work for you?"

"Very much so."

"Lovely, well I'll make the arrangements and let you know the information.

"Thanks Brian."

"Oh and Ringo?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you." Brian paused for a moment, he sounded a little emotional "Those boys are very special to me, so thank you."

"Of course." Ringo felt a little taken aback and he heard Brian clearing his throat.

"Well goodbye, I'll ring up in a few hours or so."

"Bye Brian."

Ringo put the phone down and stared at it for a few moments, before he turned over to George who looked at him with a curious expression as if to say 'well?'.

"I think he was about to cry." Ringo explained, scooting up the sofa to rest his head on George's shoulder.

"Really?" George rested his head against Ringo's "Why?"

"The thought of losing you." Ringo said simply and George just made a quiet noise in response.

Unexpectedly, John hadn't been too pleased to hear that they had to leave tomorrow morning but he understood the reasoning behind it. Part of him wanted to suggest a crazy final night in Hamburg but he didn't suppose Ringo was in the best state for anything of the sort - as much as Ringo would probably deny it. Paul seemed very relieved, Ringo hadn't suspect that he'd been too shaken up about the whole situation but Paul had always been the best at hiding his worries for the sake of others. They decided that even if Ringo had to take it easy, they could still make the most of their final night in Hamburg. And so they went sightseeing, walking down the beautiful lakes and walking through the scenic parks; George always seemed his happiness when surrounded by nature and so he walked hand in hand with Ringo amongst the greenery with a small smile always on his face. It hadn't been intentional but Ringo supposed the whole experience was rather healing for George, as he found it was for himself too. The four of them seemed the most at peace Ringo had ever seen them, except maybe when they were sleeping, and it almost brought him to tears thinking about how easily all of this could've been torn away.

George didn't speak too much as they walked but it wasn't a solitary silence, Ringo learned very quickly that George could be his happiest when he wasn't speaking as he saw no need for words. Aside from a few words to express their love for the beauty of the place or to direct the other's gaze to look at something, they communicated only with looks and touches. Ringo wondered if George was unhappy with where he lived back in England as it was surrounded by concrete with little greenery in sight, he then supposed whether they should move when they got older, perhaps to somewhere remote in the countryside. He began running away with the idea before he stopped himself and felt a little embarrassed to be thinking so far in the future, yet the moments he'd shared with George on that final day made him feel certain that they'd be together for a very long time - if not forever.

As night began to fall they returned to the more urban areas of the city and admired the architecture as they searched for somewhere to eat. Ringo could sense a little melancholy atmosphere growing around them as they all began to realise that they were going to miss the city, but it was somewhat bittersweet as they did also miss home quite substantially and they all knew that they'd be able to return here someday. They joked and laughed over dinner as they often did, John drinking a little too much despite their shared promise that they wouldn't be going out that night. After the waiter came to collect their plates and they ordered dessert, Ringo held up his drink to make a tipsy toast.

"I'm not one for speeches." Ringo began his speech "But lads I just wanted to say how grateful I am to have met you three, and to thank you for welcoming me as you have done. As much as we've had our ups and downs, I'd take that any day over being stuck waiting tables doing fuck all with my life."

The rest of them have held up their drinks too and gradually smiles spread across their faces.

"To Ringo!" John chimed in as he held the glass higher.

"To Ringo!" Paul and George repeated, which made Ringo smile rather sheepishly.

They all clinked their glasses together, rather enthusiastically and spilled a little of their drinks on the table, and downed whatever was left. George seemed to be back to his normal self, smiling and joking in his typical way as he secretly held Ringo's hand under the table. It was a massive relief for Ringo as he worried that his solemness had been the beginning of a larger downward spiral, and while he knew neither George or himself would be entirely over the disaster for a long while it certainly wouldn't be as big an issue as Ringo feared. John and Paul too seemed to be in better spirits, even if John complained persistently about the inconvenience of his sling, although Ringo was certain the two of them had issues they were working through that he'd never fully know about.

When they got back to the hotel, Paul suggested it was best they all got an early night so they didn't miss their flight in the morning, the receptionist relayed the message Brian had left for them. They didn't sleep as soon as they got in, instead they listened to the radio and danced for a while. It didn't take long for the mixture of alcohol and exhaustion to sink in and they all began their nightly routines. Before they climbed into bed, John rooted around in the wardrobe and pulled out the large bag of cocaine he'd purchased from Stefan's men a few nights ago.

"What am I meant to do with this?" John asked as he toyed with it in his hand.

"Bin it." Paul said simply and yawned.

"But that's so wasteful." John whined.

"Well you can't do it now." George was getting into bed now.

"Or bring it back." Paul added.

John huffed and looked over at Ringo as a last resort for some support but he just shrugged.

"You guys are no fun, seriously." John chucked the bag mindlessly onto the floor then walked over to the bed.

"I think we've had enough excitement for one trip, don't you?" Paul teased with a smile "All I want now is to get back home into my bed."

"Into my bed, you mean." John purred and planted a kiss on Paul's cheek.

"If you guys even think about having sex tonight I'll scream." George mumbled with his eyes closed.

"George, my love, I'm always thinking about having sex." John winked.

"Shut up and go to bed." George chuckled lowly.

John opened his mouth to respond but Ringo cut him off "Go to bed, John." He said with a laugh.

The flight home was somewhat better than the first as Ringo had managed to adjust slightly to the feeling. The excitement they'd had on the way to Hamburg had been replaced for a yearning to get home, even though they hadn't been gone all that long the security and familiarity of home was sorely missed by all of them. Ringo enjoyed a peaceful slumber on the flight, none of the haunting images that had been plaguing him returned, as he lay with his head resting comfortably against George's. When he awoke they were almost back in England. A car awaited them at the airport and they filed in eagerly; Ringo couldn't help making a comparison to their first car journey and how now they were all nursing injuries of some kind - either physical or mental - but he supposed it could've been a lot worse.

The doorman had been very excited to see the four of them returned safely. They hurried into George's flat and collapsed onto various pieces of furniture, even though it was still fairly early in the day the travelling had exhausted them somewhat. Conversation soon fell onto how they should fill the remainder of the day and Ringo had a realisation.

"I've just remembered, you guys were meant to cook us dinner this week." Ringo recalled and George groaned dramatically.

"Oh yeah... Well I'm sure we can whip something up, can't we John?" Paul was lying across John's lap on the sofa.

"For sure! Something, maybe not food." John laughed.

"Ringo, what are you doing? You save my life then torture me with that!" George grinned and Paul made a noise of protest.

After a while John and Paul retired to their flats to unpack their things, leaving George and Ringo alone - properly alone - for the first time in a while. Ringo thought he could still see a little sadness behind George's eyes, but sometimes it was hard to tell. Ringo followed him into the bedroom to help him unpack and chuckled when he took out the leather trousers.

"Talk about a souvenir, huh?" Ringo chuckled as he held up the trousers for George to see.

"I dunno, I think you've got a better one." George stood up from where he was kneeling down to root through his suitcase.

"How do you mean?" Ringo asked.

"Well I imagine you'll have a pretty gear scar from that bullet hole." George explained with a small smile.

"I hadn't even thought of that..." Ringo's voice trailed off and George noticed his morose tone.

"What's the problem?" George walked over to where Ringo was standing and cupped his hands around his face.

"I've already got that horrible scar from having my appendix out, I don't need another one." Ringo spoke softly, struggling to meet George's gaze.

"Don't be daft." George tightened his grip somewhat on Ringo's face to force him to look at him "You're beautiful, love. I'll always think that."

Ringo smiled but felt a little embarrassed, he didn't like letting on that he was insecure about his surgery scar. George then pressed his lips against Ringo's softly, it was a gentler kiss than George usually gave but it still gave Ringo that same flutter in his stomach. George pulled away and gave Ringo's face a gentle squeeze and looked deeply into his eyes; Ringo always found that George's eyes always said more than his lips ever did. Then he moved back over to where he'd put his suitcase and continued unpacking.

"Now help me pick out some clothes for dinner tonight, preferably something I won't mind vomiting all over." George grinned cheekily.

Despite George's constant jokes, the meal actually turned out fairly decent and John was certainly very proud of his work. Paul had bought a rather expensive bottle of wine for the four of them to share and they spent the evening as they had begun to spend every evening: sitting around chatting and laughing with one another, not wanting to be anywhere or with anyone else.

[hockeylvr59]

Life Changes Part 5 || Paul Bissonnette

Summary: It’s crazy how quickly your life can change...one minute you’re a struggling personal injury lawyer and the next you’re working for one of the hottest sports podcasts to supplement your income. A new job and the end of a long-term relationship was just the beginning for Leigh Thompson when it comes to life changes. Thankfully she has the one and only Paul Bissonnette at her side to help her handle them all. 

Authors Note: I have finally finished my rewrite!!! *Cue happy dance* While previous parts had an hundred words added here, four hundred added there....I basically doubled the length of what this was previously. You can expect multiple fluffy parts and as before I swear Paul will physically be in the next part. 

Requested: [ ] yes [x] no

Warnings: none

Word Count: 4,541 (plus all the added image content)

“Will it be easy? Nope. Worth it? Absolutely.” 

The rest of my trip to Arizona was filled with more morning sickness, more tears, and more emotional uncertainty. I had tried sleeping in the guest bedroom again the night after ending up in Paul’s bed after finding out I was pregnant, but it only led to tossing and turning. Just like he’d noticed something was wrong with me being sick, Paul also noticed that I clearly hadn’t slept so after that he’d insisted that I stay in his bed with him so he could hold me, allowing me to actually feel calm enough for sleep to come. 

Though I had initially protested because I was worried it would cross the lines of friends and coworkers, he assured me that his intentions were purely platonic and that he just wanted me to get the sleep my body needed to function and to support the little one growing inside me. My agreement was tentative, but when his actions fully supported his words, I found myself eager to steal as much comfort from his presence and touch as I could. The fact that his body was warm and I had always run cold certainly didn’t hurt either.

I wasn’t ready for my week in Arizona with Paul to come to an end, but the morning of my flight arrived and I found myself reluctantly boarding the plane back east. Returning home meant losing Paul’s physical comfort and support but not once did I lose the emotional, and some days it felt like he was the only thing getting me through. There were nights where I couldn’t fall asleep if I didn’t have his voice speaking softly in my ear. Sometimes it was the podcast or his radio broadcast for Arizona but if I was lucky, he’d call and just talk to me about random things until I would drift off to sleep. While we had texted frequently before I went to Arizona, our conversations were now constant. He was always quick with a supportive pick-me-up or with a joke that never failed to make me smile. At a time where so much was change occurring in my life and my brain was struggling to adapt, he was a constant that steadied me and reminded me that I could handle everything that was coming my way. He had become an unexpected friend, but one that I desperately needed. 

Slowly over the next few weeks, I acclimated to the knowledge that I was expecting a child, that I was going to be a single mother, and I did my best to begin planning for the changes I would need to make. 

One of the first things I needed to do was to see an ob-gyn to make sure that everything was actually going okay with the pregnancy. An appointment soon after arriving home established that I was indeed pregnant, if there had been any doubt left, and I’d gotten to hear the baby’s heartbeat for the first time. 

It was no surprise that I’d cried hearing it and when I sent Paul the little audio clip during our text conversation after the appointment, his response was once again everything I didn’t know that I needed to hear. 

The doctor had a rough guess of my due date based on my hormone levels and what I’d told her about the last time I’d had sex, but I was scheduled for an ultrasound mid-April in order to cement the timeframe for my pregnancy. I knew that I should tell my parents, that keeping this from them was probably a bad idea, but I convinced myself that it wouldn’t hurt to wait until I was certain I was out of the first trimester and that the baby was healthy. Considering that my mother and her cousin had both lost babies at the end of their pregnancies and that none of my mom’s successful pregnancies had been without some complication I felt justified in needing to keep this to myself until the risk of miscarriage decreased. I had shared my concerns with my doctor and with Paul and surprisingly he echoed my doctor’s statements that I was not my mother and that just because she had had complications didn’t mean that I would as well. 

____

Two weeks later, I had my first ultrasound and after leaving the doctor’s office I couldn’t stop staring at the photos. The doctor had assured me that the baby was perfectly healthy and its development was where it should be at 12 weeks along. Pure joy was the predominant emotion of the day and I couldn’t help but want to share that feeling with someone. Since Paul was the only person who knew about the baby aside from my doctor, I couldn’t help but take a picture of my sonogram and text it to him. 

Since he was currently in Toronto and had gone to the Leafs game the night before, I wasn’t expecting a response right away. So when my phone rang only about fifteen minutes after I’d sent the photo and Paul’s picture lit up the screen I couldn’t help but smile. 

“Hey.” I murmured in greeting, setting aside the mail I’d grabbed when I’d gotten home so that I could go curl up on my couch to talk to him. Instead of the greeting I expected on the other end of the line, I instead heard a sharp intake of breath. 

“Wow…that’s…that’s the baby?” He inquired, his tone hinting at wonderment. 

“Yeah, Paul. That’s the little human who has been making me sick for the past month. Pretty cool huh…I can’t stop staring at it.” 

“Yeah..no. I can see why Leigh. So everything’s okay?” He didn’t say it but his tone implied that he knew that I had been worried about the baby’s health and though the doctor had said everything seemed fine weeks ago, visual confirmation was reassuring. 

“Perfect. The baby is healthy, right where they should be development wise. The doctor would like me to get my stress levels down but understands why they’ve been up. Otherwise, I’m healthy too. All is good.” 

“Good. I’m glad. Did you find out your due date?” There was really no way to describe how much I loved that Paul seemed interested in my pregnancy. We were just friends but there was no doubt in my mind that I could go to him about anything and he would listen with no judgment. 

“Yeah. November 5th. Right before the holidays.” It was crazy how fast things seemed to be moving and I was sure that that date would be here before I knew it. 

“That seems so far away but it’s really not.” Again it was like Paul could read my mind and I giggled softly, pressing a palm to my stomach. 

“I know.” Closing my eyes for a moment I yawned softly. “So you’ve been busy in Toronto. Having a good time?” 

Listening to Paul talk about his visit to his parents and his upcoming flight to Vancouver to close on a house made me smile, more occasional yawns escaping my mouth. 

“Hey… you sound tired. Why don’t you and the dustbunny go lay down for a nap?” It took my mind a moment to process that he had just nicknamed the baby and my face crinkled curiously. 

“Dustbunny?” I questioned softly. “Why is my baby a dustbunny Paul?” Teasing affection laced my voice as I waited for an explanation. Though I couldn’t see him, I felt like if I could he would certainly be running his fingers across his scalp with an  embarrassed expression on his face. 

“Are you really going to make me explain my nickname for your child?” He mumbled and I quickly nodded before it processed that he couldn’t see me either. 

“Yes. Yes, I am.” 

“Fine. I don’t know. A Duster…a duster is a guy that sits on the bench a lot collecting dust during games. Which I kind of was.” I could kind of see where he was going with this but kept quiet wanting to see what he’d say. “And you know...I kinda knew about the baby before anyone else so I’m a little attached okay, and so when I started thinking about what I wanted to call the baby that’s what popped into my head and I don’t know...I kinda like it.” 

The fact that he had actually thought about a nickname for the baby instead of just calling it an ‘it’ or ‘baby’ or something like ‘peanut’ made me smile and the fact that what he came up with was attached to him in a way made it even better. It was adorable. 

“That’s really cute. I suppose you can call the baby that and I’m okay with it.” My voice was moist, as it didn’t take too much to make me emotional these days. 

“I’m glad you approve.” He replied, slight sarcasm lingering in the words. “Now go take the dustbunny and lay down for a nap. Doctor says you’re stressing too much so go take it easy. Biz’s orders.” 

“Alright fine. I will. Once I stop staring at the pictures of the baby.” Again if I could see him he would totally be rolling his eyes at me and as I hung up, I couldn’t help but smile at the conversation we’d just had. 

“Guess you’ve got your first nickname little one. You’re a little dustbunny.” 

_______

It was the Thursday before Mother’s Day weekend and I was driving back to my parents’ house because my middle sister was graduating high school on Saturday. Every mile driven was another mile closer to having to tell my parents that I was having a baby. I was already fifteen weeks pregnant and my bump was becoming more and more obvious every day. And now that I was out of the first trimester, my excuse for keeping the news a secret had disappeared. 

But knowing that I had to tell my family, and that it was time didn’t mean that I wasn’t freaking out. Part of me felt silly for being so nervous because yes I was single, but I had a graduate degree and two solid jobs; when my parents had me they had been half a decade younger, unmarried, and had just barely graduated with undergraduate degrees. I was in a much better position than they had been and yet I still worried about what they’d think about the fact that my baby’s father was never going to be in the picture. 

After stopping for lunch and gas, I climbed back into my car and just sat there trying to calm the nerves that were building inside me. Almost like he knew I needed him, my phone rang with Paul’s picture appearing and I answered softly, the hitch in my breath alerting him to my distress as always. There was something about hearing his voice that was immediately calming and I closed my eyes for a moment just listening to him telling me to breathe and counting softly until I was finally able to push away some of the anxiety that was creeping into my mind. Deciding that I was of sound enough mind to start driving again, I put Paul on speaker through my car’s sound system. 

“So hey…” Paul started, his tone changing a bit from consoling me to trying to provide a distraction so that I didn’t end up drowning in my own mind again. “I was bored on my flight to Vancouver yesterday and I ended up googling some stuff you’ll find pretty cool. Dustbunny is currently the size of a pear. That’s still pretty fucking tiny but I know he or she still has lots of time to keep growing.” I had an app on my phone that told me this kind of thing every week but his attempt at distraction was working and I was amused by the fact that he had researched this of all things on his flight yesterday. 

“Dustbunny also has see-through skin which is weird but awesome and it’s made even cooler by the fact that he or she finally has bones that are becoming hard and can be seen on xray.” The awe that laced Paul’s voice had my smile widening and I couldn’t help but think that even though my baby didn’t have a dad, they had an awesome Uncle Paul and that made him or her pretty lucky. 

“Also...dustbunny’s ears and eyes are finally almost where they should be on his or her head which is good because otherwise I’d have to beat up a bunch of kids for teasing them and I figure that’s probably frowned upon.” He was so matter of fact with the statement of protection that I felt a chuckle slipping from my throat and when he spoke again it was obvious he’d heard it and was now smiling. “And you haven’t mentioned feeling the baby yet, but I read that little dustbunny is moving around in there like crazy, kicking and moving his or her arms and legs, practicing so that he or she can become an awesome hockey player like their favorite uncle.” 

It was then that Paul transitioned from what he’d read about the baby’s development to all of the things he wanted to teach them when they finally arrived. The conversation between the two of us continued…well he did most of the talking and I mostly listened...until I was pulling off the exit ramp in my hometown. Paul must have realized I was almost home when I cracked the windows for a bit of fresh air now that I was on back roads because he stopped mid-sentence and spoke my name softly. 

“Hey...just so you know, it’s all gonna be fine. I know you’re nervous but your parents love you and they’re gonna have your back. Plus you’ve said you’re fairly sure your sisters are going to be excited so if nothing else, just focus on that.” He declared and I took a deep breath, nodding to myself. “And you know you can call me whenever. I’m just a few taps on a screen away.” 

________

Upon arriving home, my middle sister, Amanda, let me inside pulling me into a hug and we spent the rest of the afternoon talking about her plans now that she was finally done with her primary education. Shortly after, my baby sister Taylor, and mom arrived home and when I hugged the latter I prayed that she wouldn’t notice the baby bump sticking from my front. With so much to prepare before more family drove out tomorrow, the four of us set to work in the kitchen, preparing as much of the food for the weekend as we could ahead of time. 

As long as I kept myself busy, it was easy to pretend that I wasn’t about to drop a bombshell on my family. But eventually my dad arrived home from work and we sat down in the living room to eat dinner and watch whatever game show was on tv. I knew that I needed to eat but now that I had stopped moving my stomach was flopping back and forth with nerves. As they all wrapped up eating, I set my still half-full plate aside and bit my lip for a moment. 

“Can I talk to you guys about something for a minute?” I found that as soon as the words came out in a whisper that I had the full attention of everyone else in the room. With my mom looking to my dad to mute the TV, she murmured that of course I could and instantly all the feelings I had bottled up caused tears to prick at my eyes. 

“So um ...your first grandbaby slash niece or nephew is going to be here by Thanksgiving this year.” The silence was overwhelming and I found myself unable to meet the gaze of anyone in the room. 

“Are you pregnant?” It was Taylor that asked the million dollar question and when I simply nodded she squealed before dashing around the couch to hug me. Neither of my parents said a word for a long moment and I swallowed hard awaiting their reaction. 

“How?” The question that left my mom’s mouth wasn’t the most appropriate one because I knew that she obviously knew the answer to that, otherwise I wouldn’t be sitting here. When further questions of ‘how far along I was’ and ‘where was the father’ came forth I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair, one hand falling to my stomach. 

“I’m fifteen weeks...and he’s not in the picture.” Though my mother masked her anger well, I could tell that she was upset so after taking a sip of water to clear my throat I continued. “I...I didn’t know how to tell you. I….I didn’t take the news so well myself at first and by the time I adjusted I had myself so worked up over everything that I decided to wait until I was out of the first trimester before I told anyone.” By this point, Amanda had shifted across the couch and was rubbing my back gently as I attempted to explain myself.

“But the baby and I are healthy. And we’re gonna be okay. I just hope you guys can support me through this because I really need you.” Wrapped in the arms of both my sisters, I let myself cry for a moment. I had counted on them being the fastest to adapt because I was their big sister and not viewed in the same light as I was by my parents. “As for baby’s dad...I’ll be honest with you. The story the world is going to hear is that he was a one night stand and I don’t know who he is; because that’s just easier. The truth...the truth is that we were together for eight months before he broke up with me and I have no plans on telling him about the baby. I know you might think that’s wrong but shortly after he ended things I found out that he’d been cheating on his long-time girlfriend with me and that they’re now married. I am not putting my baby through the hassle of a split home and custody issues when I can do this by myself. He did nothing but lie to me and I don’t want my baby around him.” 

Finishing my spiel, I realized that my father was no longer in the room and I held my breath trying not to assume the worst from that fact. My mother was silent before eventually coming over, pulling me to my feet, and giving me a hug. 

“You’re gonna be a great mom sweetheart. I’ve never had any doubts about that.” That validation from her was exactly what I needed and I sunk into her embrace feeling more of the tension I’d been holding in leave. “I just wish you hadn’t waited so long to tell me...I hate that you’ve been dealing with this on your own for months.” After a moment, I pulled back just a bit and sighed. 

“I uh...technically there’s one person that knows besides my doctor. I was visiting one of my coworkers and he’s actually the one that figured out I was pregnant. So he knows and has talked me down from the ledge a few times, he’s been a really good friend.” Surprisingly, my mother seemed okay with that and just held me close for a few minutes, her fingers carding through my hair drawing most of the remaining tension from my body. Eventually though, Taylor spoke up again, her tone full of excitement. 

“Well..do you have any pictures of the baby?” She asked and I found myself laughing at her eagerness as I nodded. 

“Of course I do. I also have a recording of the baby’s heartbeat.” From the moment I played the audio for the first time and pulled up the set of ultrasound pictures on my phone I knew that at least most of my family was on my side. Showing off my growing baby bump and hearing their reactions as to how cute it was lifted my spirits even further. 

It wasn’t until I stepped into the kitchen a little while later to get more water that I truly got my father’s reaction. Part of me was surprised when he tapped my shoulder before wrapping me in another hug where he mumbled that he loves me and was there for whatever I needed. Overall, the conversation with my parents and sisters had gone for the most part how I’d expected and hoped that it would. Unsurprisingly, there was a bit of disappointment at the situation, but once everyone got past that initial reaction it was clear that I had their support and that this baby was going to be very loved. As I snuggled up on the sofa bed to sleep that night, I texted Paul just to let him know that everything was okay and to thank him for earlier. 

______

The arrival of extended family for Amanda’s graduation made me nervous. It was another group of people I needed to tell that I was expecting and another group of people whose reactions I wasn’t certain of. Unsure of how to break the news and wanting the weekend to be about my sister, I kept quiet both Friday and Saturday, just enjoying the time I had with my family. 

On Sunday morning, my mom was hosting a big brunch for everyone to celebrate my sister’s graduation as well as Mother’s Day. Getting up early, I hopped in the shower before getting dressed in a pair of shorts and a flowy blouse which would once again hide my bump. My grandmother was already in the kitchen with my mom while Taylor and my dad set up the backyard so that there was room for people to sit. It wasn’t more than two minutes after I’d stepped into the kitchen offering to help that Amanda came into the room carrying a bouquet of flowers. 

The flowers took me by surprise because my mom already had the bouquet from my dad in a vase on the counter, so I wasn’t sure where these came from or who they were for. After all, the house was going to be full of women today who were moms and could be getting flowers delivered. Setting the flowers down, Amanda handed me the card that was inside them and seeing my name on the front of the envelope I opened it, slipping the card out. 

Inside the card was a slip of paper which listed the flowers as anemones and explained that they represented anticipation and protection. 

Reading the card to myself twice I couldn’t help but start crying, the gesture meaning more than I could explain. The flowers were absolutely perfect and the fact that he sent something so fitting sent a chill down my spine. Amanda sent me a smile as I excused myself for a moment, needing to pull myself together. 

By the time I’d returned to the kitchen, card securely tucked into my pocket, more of my family had arrived and were chatting in the kitchen. Pouring myself a glass of orange juice I listened as my aunt commented on the flowers and how different and pretty they were to my mother, believing they had been sent for her. 

Quickly my mother pointed out her own mother’s day bouquet and my aunt then questioned whether they had been delivered for Amanda’s graduation. When my sister shook her head everyone looked around curiously and after a nod of encouragement from both my mom and sister I spoke up. 

“They were delivered for me.” I explained, a soft blush gracing my cheeks. “A friend sent them for Mother's Day,” I added, watching as everyone’s faces started to shift processing the implications of my words. 

“You’re pregnant?” It was a family friend who was like an aunt to me that asked the question, and the excitement in her tone forced a beaming smile onto my face. 

“Yeah. I’m pregnant.” I admitted causing the room to burst with a mixture of excitement, disbelief, and concern. Accepting some hugs I tried not to let my emotions become too much. Addressing the more reserved members of my family I spoke as confidently as I could manage. 

“This wasn’t planned and no the father isn’t in the picture. But that’s okay, I’ve made my peace with it and I know it won’t be easy, trust me it has been anything but so far, but I’m excited, I already love this baby so much.” 

After a moment, the rest of my family seemed to come to terms with the announcement and I was pulled into more hugs, causing me to tear up while laughing to myself softly. 

My grandmother was the first to ask if I had any pictures. Nodding, I smiled and opened my phone to show off my baby’s first ultrasound photos. Everyone wanted to know how far along I was and seemed shocked when I admitted that I was almost sixteen weeks along. 

After about fifteen minutes of baby talk, it was my cousin that moved the conversation back to the flowers in a way, asking about who had sent them. 

“Just a friend and one of the guys I work on the podcast with.” I stated softly. I knew that everyone would wonder how many people knew before they did and so I answered the question before it was asked. “He’s the only one besides the people in this house that knows. He was with me when I found out. Actually, he suspected that I was pregnant and insisted on taking me to the doctor. He’s kept me from losing my mind as I processed the news.” 

“And the card?” Laughing, I pulled the card from my pocket, reading it aloud. Everyone was impressed by the fact that he even put the effort in to pick out something beyond the standard carnation and when I explained what the flowers were supposed to mean they ‘awe’d’ commenting on how fitting that was. As expected the next question was about the term dustbunny and I shook my head declaring that there wasn’t really an explanation for it other than that it was hockey lingo that he’d adapted into a nickname for the baby. I mentioned that it was something I loved because it was different and personal and unique to my baby given to it by someone who had been in our corner from the start. 

Now that the news was out there, I couldn’t help but feel relieved that my baby was no longer a secret. It was the perfect way to spend my first Mother's Day and I couldn’t help but be grateful that Paul made it so easy to share the news by providing a natural transition into the subject. 

Somehow he made everything easier and I was so grateful to have him in my life. 

Social Media Updates: 

[crescentmoon223]

Two Worlds Collide Chapter 20

Read it on AO3 | Rated: NC-17 | Stella x Scully

Chapter 20

(This is the 3rd new chapter in 3 days - read it from the beginning here!)

Stella walked out of Scully’s flat and kept on walking, heels slamming into pavement, muscles moving, carrying her blindly forward. When she finally lifted her head, she had no idea where she was, an unfamiliar street somewhere in London. Actually, she could have been standing in front of her own building, and she wasn’t sure she’d recognize it.

The world around her seemed somehow altered, everything muted and strange. There was a dull whooshing noise in the back of her head like rushing water, threatening to drown her in her own misery. She blinked, attempting to bring her surroundings into focus. Spotting a sign for the Underground up ahead, she walked toward it. She didn’t often ride the tube. It was too crowded and unpredictable for her taste. She preferred taxis whenever possible. But right now, it would do.

She swiped her card, descended the escalator to the platform, and boarded a train that would take her back to the office, despite it being Saturday and despite having just worked for twenty-four hours straight. Whatever vibe she was giving off this morning seemed to work in her favor, at least. The other commuters parted around her as she walked, reminding her of a video she’d seen once of a shark swimming through a school of bait fish. For a brief moment, she considered snapping her teeth for effect. But, in the end, she just chose an empty seat and sat quietly.

Forty-five minutes later, she strode toward the comfort and familiarity of her own desk. This, at least, was the same as she’d left it. Black laminate strewn with reminders of the case she’d just closed, notes stuck to various surfaces, photos, strategies. With a heavy sigh, she sank into her chair.

“Stella?” DSI Chen stood in the doorway to her office. “I thought you’d gone home.”

“Forgot a few things,” she said, gesturing vaguely at her desk.

“Great job on the Swanson case,” Chen told her. “Really nice work.”

“Thank you.”

“Well, I won’t keep you,” he said, backing into the hall. “Go home and sleep. Enjoy your weekend.”

She nodded, and he left. Sleep. She hadn’t managed more than a catnap at her desk last night, but she couldn’t exactly curl up on her cot at this hour, and if she went home now, the empty flat would swallow her whole. Instead, she sat at her desk, staring blankly at the case notes in front of her, letting the morning pass her by.

Eventually, she became aware that people were staring, looking in at her as they passed her office, wondering what she was doing here on her day off and after just having solved her most pressing case. So, she gathered her things and left, but instead of going home, she went to the pool. She put on her swimsuit, and she swam, and she swam, and she swam.

Beneath the water’s protective surface, she removed her goggles, and she cried, releasing her tears as the water masked her emotions. She swam until the ache in her ribs resurfaced, and she wondered if it would ever fully go away. Would the ghost of Paul Spector always be there in her chest, reminding her of the way he’d beaten her?

She swam until she couldn’t swim anymore, and then she went home, just long enough to change her clothes and make herself presentable, to make it look as if she was a normal, functioning human being, but not long enough to let her mind wander to Scully, to smell the scent of her hair on Stella’s sheets or see one of Scully’s blouses mixed in with her own in the closet.

Then, she went back to work, because what else could she do? She sat at her desk and began making notes on the Petersen case, her next priority now that Swanson was closed. The next thing she knew, her eyes popped open. She sat up, disoriented, blinking as she realized she’d fallen asleep at her desk with her head on her arms.

Next to her mostly illegible Petersen notes, there was a sandwich and a can of soda, and before she could even wonder where they’d come from, she saw the note beside them, in Chen’s handwriting.

Thought you might need this.

And she felt such a warm surge of affection for him, she almost smiled. Chen was one of the few people in this world she could truly call a friend. She’d done this for him once, right after he’d split from his wife, reminding him to take care of himself. Because as she stared at the sandwich on her desk, she realized she hadn’t eaten today. She probably hadn’t eaten much yesterday either. And the dull, pounding headache currently assaulting her brain was the result.

So, she unwrapped the sandwich and ate, not really tasting it and not caring. She sucked down the can of soda, crawled onto the cot behind her desk, and slept.

The next week passed more or less the same. She worked. She swam. When she slept, it was usually on the cot behind her desk. In the back of her mind, she was aware the date for Scully’s flight home had come and gone, taking her back to Maryland, to the friends and family waiting there.

Scully had texted the day before her flight. If you change your mind, you know where to find me.

I won’t, Stella had replied. And then, Safe travels. And then, because she couldn’t quite help herself, I’ll miss you.

Scully hadn’t replied.

Now, she was gone.

And Stella was tired of her wretched post-Scully existence. It was time to move on, to get back to her real life, the one she’d led before Scully came swooping in with her warm eyes and big heart. There was only one way Stella knew to cleanse herself of emotional baggage. Well, only one way that she currently allowed herself to indulge.

So, when Friday rolled around, she left the office on time. She went home and changed into a casual black skirt and a beige top that showcased her tits, easy access so she could fuck with her clothes on. She dabbed a bit of perfume on her neck and carefully reapplied her makeup. And then she called a taxi to take her to one of her favorite bars, an upscale place with a luxury hotel next door, the perfect location for a hook-up.

She’d done this before, done it enough times that she didn’t even need to think through the steps. She sat and ordered a drink while her gaze roamed the bar, assessing her options like a leopard on the hunt. Almost immediately, her gaze settled on a man four seats down. Younger, clean-cut, with an enthusiastic air about him as he made idle conversation with the bartender. Just what she liked.

She imagined him whispering dirty words in her ear, the feel of his cock inside her, waiting for the rush of arousal that was sure to follow, but none did. Her body remained cold, indifferent. Still she watched him, appreciating the dusting of stubble on his cheek, his strong grip on the glass in his hand. He had nice hands. Nice hands were always a good sign.

As if he felt the weight of her gaze, he turned, and their eyes met. Handsome, even more so than she’d thought initially. And he recognized an invitation when he saw one. Within seconds, he had stood from his barstool, walking deliberately toward her.

“Mind if I take this seat?” he asked, gesturing to the empty stool beside her.

American. Perfect. Except it wasn’t. She’d already lost before she’d even made it out of the gate.

“Not at all,” she replied, crossing her right leg over her left, letting her foot bounce idly as she watched him sit.

“John Baker,” he said, extending a hand.

What a perfectly boring name, as unmemorable as the man beside her.

“Stella Gibson.” She gave his hand a quick, firm shake. “Are you here on business?”

“Yes,” he said with a nod before launching into an explanation that almost immediately became white noise in her ears. She caught the words “data acquisition management” and “global expansion.”

“How nice,” she said blandly, downing the last of her scotch.

“Can I buy you another round?” he asked, already gesturing for the bartender.

“That won’t be necessary,” she said, giving him a look that expressed clearly what she wanted instead.

“I’m staying at the hotel next door,” he said, eyes wandering over her body, clearly liking what he saw. And she let him look. She let him look because that’s why she was here, after all.

“Perfect.” She stood, gathering her purse as he drained his drink, and then she led the way outside. They didn’t talk as they walked next door to the hotel. The evening breeze tossed her hair over her shoulders, cool, crisp. A shiver rolled over her skin.

She remembered another hotel, a lifetime ago, a deceptively innocent-looking redhead waiting to beckon her into her bed, into her life, into her heart. Stella clenched her jaw, looking pointedly at the man beside her. Jeff? John? What was his name?

It didn’t matter in the long run. She only needed a few hours of his time. She didn’t need to remember his name or anything else about him. They walked to the lift at the rear of the lobby, and he pressed the button to take them up.

She ran her tongue over her bottom lip, ran her eyes over his body, ran the errant thoughts out of her mind. He stood close enough for her to smell the slightly-too-strong scent of his cologne and the alcohol on his breath. He held her gaze as he leaned in, lips pressing firmly against hers. Hard. Rough. His stubble pricked against her cheek. She’d always loved that about kissing a man, the play of rough against smooth, hard against soft.

“Everything all right?” he asked with an air of confusion, and only then did she realize she’d turned her face to the side, breaking the kiss.

She blinked at him in surprise, feeling nothing but cold inside where there should have been heat. No, she was not all right. Not even close. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’ve made a mistake.”

And she walked away, leaving him standing beside the lift, mouth slightly agape, hands shoved into the pockets of his trousers.

***

“So, you and Dana broke up, huh?”

Stella looked up as Chen settled himself into the guest chair across from her desk, a sympathetic look on his face. “What gave it away?” she asked wryly.

“Oh, you know.” He gestured around them, the rumpled cot behind her and the trashcan overflowing with discarded coffee cups. “It was either that or you decided to give up your flat and move in here.”

She laughed softly, leaning back in her chair. “The thought has crossed my mind.”

“Want to talk about it?” he asked.

“Not really.” But there was no conviction behind her words.

Chen leaned back in his chair, resting his right foot against his left knee. “It was the same for me for a while after Aisling left me.”

“I remember,” she said. “How did you get past it?”

“Time,” he said with a shrug. “And work.”

She laughed bitterly. “That’s what I was afraid of.”

“Who dumped who?” he asked, comfortable enough in their friendship to push harder than most would dare, and since he was Chen, she allowed it.

“I did,” she admitted, unexpectedly relieved to finally talk about it out loud. Maybe he could tell her why she was still caught in this miserable limbo where she couldn’t get Scully out of her head, couldn’t move on, couldn’t seem to do much of anything at all.

“Why?”

“Because…” She paused, looking around her office as if the answer was tacked to the wall somewhere between case notes and crime scene photos. “The job. This life. I was afraid…I was afraid I couldn’t be what she needed me to be.”

“I see,” he said, staring at his hands.

“Why did Aisling leave you?”

“The job. This life.” He looked up with a sardonic smile. “The truth is, over the years, we grew apart. And the more distant I felt from her, the more I buried myself in work, until finally, there was no one there for me to come home to.”

“That is exactly what I feared,” Stella said softly, remembering the hurt in Scully’s eyes as she’d pushed her away, the tears on her cheeks. It tore at Stella’s heart even now.

“The thing is,” Chen said, “if I had it to do all over again, I’d still marry her. I’d still take that chance. And maybe this time I’d try a little harder to make things work.”

Stella inhaled sharply, fingernails biting into her thighs as she stared at him.

“Maybe we’d still fail,” he said. “But at least I’d know I tried.”

She shook her head. “You’d be setting yourself up to make the same mistake all over again.”

“Maybe. Aisling is a teacher. She was always home by dinnertime, and she wanted me to be too. She needed the steady, predictable kind of life that I couldn’t give her. But Dana’s like us. She works long shifts and unpredictable hours. She’s probably slept behind her desk too. Are you sure she really needed more than you could give her?”

You are enough, Scully had said that last day. You are enough.

Stella shook her head to clear away the memory “I didn’t want to hurt her.”

“Did you ever consider that you already did?”

She looked down at her desk, wishing she could put into words the rest of her fears, her inadequacies, all the reasons Scully would be better off without her. “No.”

[danrdarrenc]

I Came Home To Bury You Instead

This fic is a conversation Will and Sonny need to have but one which I doubt we’ll see on screen. 

“We need to talk.”

Sonny’s deep in a book, lounging out by the Kiriakis pool (having nothing but free time these days) and enjoying a beautiful mid-September day, when Will’s voice cuts through the quiet of the backyard.

Sonny looks up from his book to see Will strolling out onto the patio.

It’s been three weeks since Will’s memories returned, two since Will came back to him completely. Sonny still can’t quite believe it’s happened, that Will is his again, alive and present. But now his heart sinks, his fears bubbling rapidly to the surface.

“You’re going back to Paul.” Sonny hadn’t meant to say it but it was the first thought that had crossed his mind when Will spoke. His book lays forgotten on the edge of his chair.

Will’s face softens, realizing his blunt words have upset Sonny.

“No,” Will assures with a little smile. He sits down on the lounge next to Sonny’s and holds out his hand for Sonny to take. Sonny obliges, readily, and Will tangles their fingers together, dropping his head back against the back of the chair. “I feel awful for what happened to him and that I piled a break up on top of that, but it would have been worse if I’d stayed.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then Sonny asks, “What did you want to talk about?”

Will rolls his head to look at Sonny.

“What happened before I died.”

Sonny stares at him, unsure if he’s supposed to say something.

Will continues, absolving Sonny of the need to figure it out. “I was so excited and overwhelmed to have my memories back that day that I didn’t really take the time to sort them out. And then everything happened after the wedding and it kind of got pushed aside. But I was thinking about stuff last night when I was talking to my mom.

“Things really went to shit between us after Gabi went to prison for killing Nick.”

“Yeah. They did,” Sonny concedes.

“It was really stupid of me to be mad at you for trying to help me with my writing,” Will says on a chuckle.

“I shouldn’t have gone behind your back.”

“I said our life was boring,” Will says quietly, turning away from Sonny to stare out at the pool.

“No way you can claim that now,” Sonny counters, trying to lighten the mood.

Will grins slowly, turning back to Sonny.

“I could have - I should have - told you I was upset with you going to LA,” Sonny says. They both made mistakes that last year and now is the time for Sonny to claim responsibility for his.

“Why didn’t you?”

“I loved you,” Sonny says simply. “You were restless and you were really excited about the opportunity. I couldn’t let you make the choice between me and your career and have you resent me for it later.”

“I should have made more effort to talk to you when I was out there.” A shadow crosses Will’s face. “I jumped into bed with the first hot guy who looked my way.” His voice is quiet and tinged with sadness.

Sonny squeezes his hand. They had never discussed this, Sonny wouldn’t let them in their short-lived therapy sessions, but with three years distance and a new lease on life with Will, Sonny is more than willing to listen.

Will’s brow furrows as he thinks, sorts through the feelings his newfound memories stir in him. “I got out to LA and it was like every insecurity I had about myself increased tenfold. I just...lost my head. And then I was guilty and ashamed so I avoided talking to you.”

“I kissed Paul,” Sonny blurts out.

Will blinks, surprised. “What?”

“When you were in LA. When Paul first came here for his shoulder surgery. Technically, he kissed me but I kissed him back.”

“You never said anything.”

“I know.” Sonny swallows thickly. “You physically cheated with him but I was having an emotional affair.” He’s been holding onto that for three years and saying it aloud to Will feels like a weight off his shoulders.

This time it’s Will who squeezes his hand. “I know,” Will says gently. “Why do you think I was so jealous of him?”

“Is this weird?” Sonny asks randomly.

“Very,” Will laughs, understanding Sonny’s meaning. “We created a really messed up triangle, the three of us.”

Sonny grins but it fades quickly. “I treated you so horribly, Will. I’m so sorry. You wanted to fix things and I just wouldn’t listen.”

Will swings his legs over the side of the lounge, sitting up. Will holds his free hand out. Sonny matches Will’s movements, swings his legs onto the ground to face Will, and takes Will’s outstretched hand.

“I walked out on our marriage, our daughter.”

“I betrayed your trust in the worst way.”

“I never stopped loving you. I need you to know that, Will. You died thinking I had,” Sonny says, half hysterical.

“Hey.” Will jumps up from his chair to sit next to Sonny. Will lets go of one of Sonny’s hands to pull him into a side hug. Sonny leans into him, dropping his head against Will’s.

“You told me in Memphis that you were coming back.”

Sonny nods, unable to speak, suddenly overwhelmed with the emotions he’s been carrying with him for almost three years.

Will presses a kiss to Sonny’s hair. They sit in silence for a minute until Will says, “Tell me about after I died.”

Sonny snaps his head up to look at Will. “What?”

“If we’re going to make this work this time, which I know we both want, we need to be honest with each other, first and foremost. We fell apart above all because we stopped talking to each other.”

“It was so horrible, Will,” Sonny whispers. He swallows, then says, louder, “I was coming home to tell you I loved you and I came home to bury you instead. I cried non-stop for a week. Four days when I was here and three more when I got back to Paris. I was a zombie. I’m not even sure how I functioned. On auto-pilot, I guess. I don’t think I slept for a month. I didn’t have an appetite. I lost twenty pounds before my mom flew out to Paris to force me to eat. My only thought was if I had taken a flight a day earlier I could have saved you. And then I started thinking about how awful the last eight months of our relationship was and I hated myself. I wanted nothing more than to have that time back.”

Will hugs him tighter and kisses his hair again.

“We can’t take back what happened,” Will says. “But we can make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

Sonny nods and searches Will’s eyes. “I love you so much, Will.”

“I love you, too,” Will replies and ducks forward to press his lips to Sonny’s.

They sit there, kissing lazily for a long time, until their lips are swollen and bruised, and Gabi comes wandering outside with Arianna, looking for a swim.

[bringmetolife-pwff]

Part One : Chapter Twenty-Four - Brother’s Forgiveness

It was the next day as Evelyn and William decided to sleep in.  Her head was in the crook of his neck as his right arm was wrapped underneath her as a way to bring her closer to him.  Her arm was wrapped around his middle as they had no alarm to wake up.  

It was nine thirty in the morning as she started to feel him lightly kiss her head as to which she closed her eyes tightly shut not wanting to wake up.  They had an exhausting night the night before due to her brother bringing home Will's ex-girlfriend and them reaffirming their feelings for each other before making love to each other.  

Evelyn slept naked while Wills had on a pair of boxer-briefs.  

"I know you're awake," William said quietly, almost soft-spoken.

"I don't want to wake up," she replied groaning slightly as she placed a soft kiss to his neck as he tightened his grip on her slightly.

Just as Evelyn was about to give him a kiss as she leaned in she heard a knock on her door and let out a sighed.

"What now," she groaned.

"Are you expecting anyone?" He asked as his eyebrows furrowed.

"Not that I know of.  Let me go see who it is."

She pressed her lips to his and got out of the covers as he watched her get into some comfortable clothes - one of them being his white shirt he wore underneath his button up last night.  She ran her fingers through her hair as the knocking was consistent.  Not even thinking to look through the peep hole, she opened the door before revealing her brother Eric.

"Eric?" She asked her voice slightly tight from the stunt her brother pulled last night.  "What are you doing here?"

"Mum told me where you live.  Mind if I come in?  I think we need to chat about last night."

"Er, yeah, come in," Eve opened the door more for her brother to step in.  

This was the first time he was seeing her new place as he hadn't been able to with being in the military.  He could see why Evelyn would choose this place.  It was spacious and private which was something that William and Evelyn needed, especially right now as they were just in the beginning stage of their relationship.  

"Nice place," he comments.

"Thanks," she bites her lip as she leads him to the sofa.

She grabs one of her grey fluffy faux fur pillows and holds it to her chest for comfort as she brings one leg under the other.

"I'm really sorry about last night.  I realized I was wrong after you guys left.  It wasn't the way I wanted you guys to meet Kate and I handled it poorly.  Please forgive me?"

Evelyn and Eric had always been the closest out of all of her brothers so when Eric did this Evelyn was surprised and thought it was very uncharacteristic of him.  She felt hurt that he would not only do that to her but also her boyfriend who was very sweet and just wanted their families to come together and be close with all of them.  Evelyn felt the need to protect him - they both felt the need to protect each other.

"I do, thanks," she sent her brother a small smile.  "I am happy for you Eric and I hope at some point we can meet Kate at another time because she seems lovely.  But I think you also need to apologise to someone else too," she pointed at her bedroom door to which he nodded his head in understanding.

Wills soon came out not much longer after as he looked more presentable knowing that her brother was out there.  He sat down next to Eve as put her hand on his knee for comfort, letting him know she was there for him.

"Everything okay?" He asked looking between the two.

"Almost," Eric told him.  "I also have to apologise to you as well.  I'm sorry for not even mentioning anything about Kate, Will.  It was wrong of me and I hope some day you'll forgive me.  I should have given you a heads up."

"It's alright, mate.  I forgive you."

"You do?  Just like that?"

"What?  Do you want me to stop talking to you and give you a black eye?"

Eve smirked at her boyfriends humour and shook her head.

"No, I just thought you might be mad for at least a couple weeks is all."

"Well, I was at first but mostly just 'cause I was put off guard.  I'm over it now mainly because I'm ridiculously happy with your sister and I want you to be happy too.  I think Kate can provide that for you.  She's a good person."

"Thanks mate," Eric grins at his friend and sister.  "Means a lot.  Well, I best be off," Eric stood up and gave them both a hug.  "Maybe we can all meet up some time, properly."

"I'd like that," Evelyn replied.  "Thanks for coming by Eric.  I love you."

"I love you too, sis.  I would tell you I love you too Will, but I think that'd be a bit odd."

"Just a bit," he brought his thumb and pointer finger together to show a smidge.  "See you later mate."

Eric then left as Evelyn let him out and she let out a relieved sigh as she made it back to the sofa and Wills wrapped his arm around her bringing her closer.  

"What would you say to a week long holiday?" Wills asked her girlfriend as they lay on her sofa.  

"I would say I'm intrigued," she said suddenly very excited to spend some time away with her boyfriend.  "Where were you thinking?"

"What would you say to Bora Bora?"

"Really?" she exclaims excited.  "I'm so excited!  Yes, I would love to go to Bora Bora with you!"

"Good because we leave tonight."

"Wait, what?  Tonight?"

"Yes," he grinned loving the fact that he had surprised her and was able to do it without her knowing.  

For their holiday he did prepare a private plane for them - mainly because he didn't want people finding out about them before or during their holiday.  Bora Bora was also a nice, private place where people kept to themselves and just enjoyed their time.  

"I need to pack right now," she exclaimed as she placed her hand on her forehead.

She knew exactly what kind of clothes she needed to pack as she knew that it was almost always sunny and hot in Bora Bora.  She packed a few jumpers as well just in case it got chilly at night.  He helped her fold her clothes as he was already finished with his.  

"Mary-Kate how are those dresses coming along?" Evelyn asked her as she was on her mobile

"We're all done, Evelyn," Mary-Kate replied with a smile on her face as she adjusted her glasses. "We also shipped them all out before they needed them so hopefully they get them on time. We made it to where the parcels were at Express mail."

"Excellent. Thank you so much Mary-Kate and Antoine for all of your hard work. I really do appreciate each and everyone of you. Truly."

"We appreciate you as well. But promise to bring us back something from your holiday!" She exclaimed making Evelyn let out a giggle.

"How'd you know I was going somewhere?"

"William called and told us you'd be out of the office."

"'Course he did! I have to go now, talk soon."

"Ciao," Mary-Kate ended the mobile call and let Evelyn get finished with her packing.

It took them about half an hour to get everything ready and they were on their way to the plane. For this holiday, Wills did ask granny if they could use a private plane.  He didn't want the world to find out about them as they went on a nice holiday that was meant for the two of them instead of a holiday that was meant for the world.  

His Protection Officer would be with them - in case of emergencies.  He would be staying in a room a couple down wanting to give the couple privacy.  Paul helped William and Evelyn put their luggage in the plane.  Evelyn had also brought a blanket to have in case she got cold on the airplane.  She also brought her iPad and polaroid camera.  

The plane was spacious and the seats were a tan colour as they gave you room to move around.  Evelyn and William sat down in seats next to each other as Evelyn had the window seat.  They brought snacks as well as they were on the way to the plane.  The plane already had a telly on it and they took full on advantage of it as they watched movies, made out, ate snacks and lastly cuddled as they slept.  When they watched movies they watched anywhere from rom-com's to action, thriller's and even one scary movie to which Evelyn watched most of it covering her eyes and peeking out through the space of her fingers as she hid in Will's chest.  

"Flight attendants, prepare for landing please.  Cabin crew, please take your seats for landing," she heard the flight attendant say as Paul took his seat that was his own cabin space.  

Evelyn smiled at him as he returned one and she held her boyfriends hand while looking up at him.

"Look out the window, darling," Wills told her as she opened it afterwards.

A gasp left her lips as she saw an endless amount of bodies of water.  It was then that she knew that it was somewhere in the tropical islands.  She knew that it was going to be somewhere sunny but she didn't know it would be by the ocean.  

"Welcome to island of Polynesia, Eve," Will had his arms wide open as they had landed and were out on the land.

"It's beautiful," she gushed having never been there before but excited to explore the island with her boyfriend.

"Come on," he grabbed her hand as they both grabbed their luggage.  "We have to go to that boat over there to go to the actual place we're staying at."

It was pretty windy out and Evelyn was glad she had her knitted sweater on as she pulled the open part closer to her body to keep her warm.  Her blonde hair was up in a pony tail as she had her sunnies on and they took the boat to the actual island.

"We're staying at The St. Regis Bora Bora Resort?" Evelyn shrieked with excitement.  "Shit, Wills.  This is too much!  Are you sure?"

The resort was on a lagoon, making the setting a luxe tropical beachfront resort.  The hotel rooms were over water bungalows and William had told her that they would be having a butler service as well.  The flight was going be around thirty-one hours and they would land at Bora Bora's airport which is on the islet of Motu Mute and then they would take a short boat ride to Bora Bora.  

"Yes, I'm sure.  Nothing's too much for my girl," he laughed at her surprise.  "Was this the best surprise?"

"The absolute best," she wrapped her arms around his neck as she brought his head down to press her lips to his in a passionate kiss.  She could feel the swipe of his tongue poking out, asking for permission, to which she opened.  Eve moaned into the kiss as she rested her right hand against his cheek.  William started to walk towards the bed as she felt her back press against the soft mattress.

"Clothes.  Need.  To.  Come.  Off," she murmured the best she could in between kisses as she felt her breath was ragged to which he chuckled slightly.

Ecstasy and pure heaven is what Eve felt at the moment.

Clothes were scattered across the floor as they didn't care about neatness at the moment.  They were both in lust.  In that need for the

Skin on skin as they moved to the same rhythm.  Fast at first, both in a rush from the excitement of being on a holiday together and next was slow.  Taking their time, memorizing each other's bodies.  

--

a/n: i was typing this as most of this was written with my brother's dog barking like crazy because he was back from his trip.  sorry that it's shorter than the last chapter but i'll try and update the next soon.  not sure if it will be before Christmas or after.  

make sure to check out @Antoinette_II Prince William fanfic also if you haven't yet :).

i'll definitely be working on it before then but no promises on when it will be up.  i'm all updated on my other books too and i'm going to work on my papillon nate archibald chapter for today too.  

if you guys celebrate the holiday - have a Merry Christmas and happy holidays!

[hockeylvr59]

Life Changes Part 3 || Paul Bissonnette

Summary: It’s crazy how quickly your life can change...one minute you’re a struggling personal injury lawyer and the next you’re working for one of the hottest sports podcasts to supplement your income. A new job and the end of a long-term relationship was just the beginning for Leigh Thompson when it comes to life changes. Thankfully she has the one and only Paul Bissonnette at her side to help her handle them all. 

Authors Note: Part 3 of my Biz rewrite. Added about 400 words including a little lowkey flirting so check it out, no major changes but I like to think there’s it’s worth you reading again even if you read the original part 3. 

Requested: [ ] yes [x] no         Warnings: none      Word Count: 3,707

__________________________________________________________

“Stop looking for happiness in the same place that you lost it.”

It had been two weeks since I left Boston. Two weeks since I found out that my ex had used me by pretending to be mine until it wasn’t convenient anymore and he dumped me to marry his real girlfriend. Two weeks since he broke my heart in two again and left me to pick up the pieces.

To say that I hadn’t been myself was maybe the understatement of the year. Don’t get me wrong, I did my job to the best of my ability, both with the podcast and with my clients, but I kept conversations as brief as I could manage and the easy smile that usually graced my face had completely disappeared. I was eternally exhausted, tossing and turning in my bed every night, the same bed that I’d been with him in, sharing the most intimate pieces of myself.

It had been two weeks from one of the worst days of my life when my phone buzzed causing me to roll over in bed to see who was trying to get in touch with me at almost midnight. The name ‘Paul Bissonnette’ was at the top of a string of text message alerts and sighing softly, I reached for my phone before laying back down to read them.

Hey, you there…

C’mon I know you’re still awake. You’re a self-admitted night owl.

I’m worried about you. We’re all worried about you.

Come to Arizona. Leave the crappy cold rainy/snowy weather and come hang out with me in the sunshine.

Please??

I have a spare bedroom.

Reading his messages I sighed softly. Maybe it would be good to get away from my apartment and get some sun. I didn’t have any court dates upcoming or meetings with clients scheduled so there was no real reason I had to stay on the east coast and the weather had really sucked lately. There had been maybe one day of sunshine in the past month and it was on a day that was something like 18 degrees outside.

You sure you want to put up with me, I’m not the most pleasant person to be around lately?

Yes. Get your pretty ass to Scottsdale.

Sighing, I reached for my computer located beside my bed and once it booted up I pulled open my go-to travel site to try and find a flight to the west coast. Tickets weren’t cheap but it wasn’t like I was going to have to pay for a hotel and the more I thought about the suggestion Paul had made, the more I realized that getting away would be good for me. Booking tickets for a week-long trip, I sent the info to Paul before climbing out of bed.

My flight was scheduled to leave at just after 7am the next morning. That meant I needed to be at the airport by 5:30 or so and it was about an hour and a half drive there meaning I needed to leave at 4am. It was already past midnight and I obviously needed to pack so I said goodbye to the possibility of sleeping tonight telling myself that it would be worth it when I reached the warmth of Arizona. Seeing that Paul had yet to respond to me I shot him another text before running my fingers through my hair. 

You’re picking me up, right?

Grabbing my suitcase from my closet, I quickly looked up Arizona’s weather before grabbing clothes to pack into it. It was in the 70’s and 80’s there mid-March so I packed my one and only swimsuit along with shorts, tank tops and t-shirts, adding a pair of jeans, yoga pants and a sweatshirt for going into restaurants or for the cooler evenings. As I finished with my clothing and moved to pack the necessities located in the bathroom, my phone buzzed with a new message.

Damn you’re efficient. See you in the morning. Travel safe.

Once I’d finished packing my suitcase, I worked on preparing my carry-on with all of the files I’d need to work on my current caseload for clients as well as anything I needed for the podcast. It was almost 1:30 in the morning by the time I had my things ready to go and so I switched to getting myself ready. Putting some music on, I slipped into the bathroom for a quick shower before getting dressed again and then settled onto my lounge chair in my living room to watch something random on tv until I needed to leave.

I was tired but actually kind of excited to see a new part of the country because the furthest west I’d ever been was South Dakota. As I drove to the airport I listened to the newest podcast episode, however, the closer I got the more a nauseous feeling came over me and I dug in my bag for peppermints to try and calm my stomach. The nausea had to be from the excitement, lack of sleep, or from not having had much to eat the past few days so I didn’t let it worry me.

After checking my bag and passing through security, I headed to the gate to wait on my flight. I wasn’t there long before I found myself making a mad dash to the bathroom feeling the need to heave even if there wasn’t anything in my stomach to throw up.

On my way back to the gate, I stopped to buy a bottle of water and a muffin, hoping that some hydration and food would help. When I finally boarded, I was still nauseous but thankfully hadn’t thrown up again. Settling onto the plane, I buckled up and then tried to doze off and get at least a little bit of rest during the four-hour flight. By the time I stirred we were only about 20 minutes away, 20 minutes that I prayed passed quickly because the nausea from before was still present and  hadn’t ebbed.

A bumpy landing nearly did me in, but I managed to quell the urge to puke by popping another peppermint and resting my head on my knees. Climbing off the plane, I felt like a zombie making my way to baggage claim. Waiting for me there was the 6’2” Canadian who had convinced me to come here. Taking in my appearance he winced visibly before wrapping his arms around me gently.

“Can you hold this for a minute?” I mumbled offering him my carry on. When he took it, I quickly glanced around for the nearest restroom before speed-walking over. Once inside a stall I finally gave in to the nausea, throwing up the muffin that I forced myself to eat before takeoff. When I returned, I reached for my bag to grab another mint, hoping to hide the smell of vomit.

“You could’ve said you were sick and not come,” Paul assured me, seeing right through my actions as he turned to search for my luggage.

“I didn’t start feeling sick until I was driving to the airport. And I’m fine, my body is just worn down from stress. I’m here to get refreshed and renewed, aren’t I?” Though his expression showed his continued concern, when I pointed to my bag, Paul grabbed it and then returned to my side, placing a hand on my lower back to guide me through the airport to where he was parked.

“Have you slept at all recently?” He asked once I was settled into his car and he was back behind the wheel to take me to his place.

“I napped for the majority of the plane ride.” I insisted, although the yawn leaving my throat gave away that I hadn’t slept much more than that. Instead of responding, Paul just raised an eyebrow at me before turning his attention back to the road. It wasn’t long before we reached his condo and I had to admit that it was beautiful. Of course, the decorations were lacking and it was a total bachelor pad, but the space itself was stunning.

Paul took my things and placed them in his spare room while I was looking around and when he returned he insisted on giving me a proper tour. As I looked outside, Paul pointed out the pool and that the key was right by the door and that I was welcome to use it as much as I wanted. His condo also had a firepit and I was looking forward to spending the evenings there. The smell of fire was one of my favorite scents and that was the kind of relaxation I needed.

Back inside, he pointed out the hall bathroom and where the spare room was before detouring to point to his room and then letting me go settle in.

“Why don’t you rest for a few hours and then maybe we can grab lunch or something?” He suggested. Nodding, I grabbed his hand and pulled him back for a hug.

“Thanks for insisting I get away and for putting me up. I need this.” After returning my hug and insisting that it wasn’t a big deal, Paul left me to unpack a bit and just relax. After changing from my winter clothes into pajama shorts and a tank, I crawled into bed and within moments crashed from exhaustion.

When I stirred from sleep, it took me a minute to recall where I was. A glance at my phone screen told me that it was almost five o’clock, almost six hours after I’d fallen asleep. Sliding out of bed, I stretched before padding out from the guest bedroom in search of something to drink because my throat was dry from the change in humidity.

By the time I reached the kitchen and was looking for a glass, I heard the patio door open and instead of just directing me to the proper cabinet, Paul was opening the fridge and handing me a bottle of water.

“Sleeping beauty awakes….you feeling better?” Taking a sip of the bottle of water I nodded. My stomach felt much better than it had before and the quality of sleep definitely had me feeling like less of a zombie.

“Yeah, thanks…I didn’t realize a few hours was six though. Why’d you let me sleep so long?”

“You looked like you needed it and you were too peaceful to disturb.” He replied shrugging as he leaned against the counter. “You want to clean up a bit, get dressed and then go get some dinner?”

“Sure.” I agreed, though I didn’t move until I had finished the bottle of water, tossing it into the recycling bin in the corner of the room. Ten minutes later I was dressed in a pair of capris and a cute top, sandals on my feet with a sweater draped over my arm. Quickly I checked my appearance in the mirror before grabbing my phone and wallet so that we could head out.

The car ride to and from dinner was filled with music, Paul letting me choose the radio station in his car. Conversation came easy, talking about our families and hometowns, what experiences had led to where each of us was today. There was something about Paul’s presence that made me feel relaxed, and I never found myself worried about what he was thinking. When we finished dinner I attempted to pay the check but Paul refused to let me anywhere near the bill, insisting that the guys would never let him live it down if they found out he’d let me pay. 

Upon returning to Paul’s place after dinner, we made our way out to the patio and Paul started a fire. The way the flames flickered, almost seemingly to the sound of the music playing softly from a speaker, made me smile and I just snuggled into the lounge chair, having pulled a sweatshirt on for warmth before coming outside.

“So…” Paul’s voice eventually broke the silence and I turned my head to look over at him. “The yotes play tomorrow and I have to work but I was wondering if you wanted to come to the game? I can give you a quick tour and you can just enjoy some hockey where you don’t care about the outcome?”

“Yeah, that sounds like fun…I have to get some work done myself tomorrow but I wasn’t really planning on spending the entire day working.” Going to a new NHL arena was always a cool experience and it was certainly a more interesting way to spend my time here than just curled up on Paul’s couch all day. 

“Awesome.”

After that, silence filled the air again but it was comfortable like there wasn’t anything that needed to be said and the two of us could just exist in the same space. Occasionally I’d look over at Paul to find him watching the fire or looking up at what few stars were visible in the Arizona sky. He looked peaceful and his energy left me feeling even more relaxed. After about two hours, we agreed to let the fire burn out and once it had we headed back inside. I was already feeling drowsy when Paul asked if I wanted to watch a movie or something, so I shook my head murmuring that I was going to try and get some sleep and that I’d see him in the morning.

___

When I awoke the next morning it did not come with the pleasant rested feeling of yesterday’s nap, instead, it came with that stomach-twisting feeling that sent me staggering for the bathroom to kneel in front of the toilet. The sound of my puking must have been loud enough to alert Paul because in no time at all he was behind me, holding my hair back as I spilled my guts.

When it seemed like I was finally finished, he handed me a cool washcloth and my toothbrush which he’d already put toothpaste on. Taking both, I ran the washcloth over the back of my neck and then down over my chest all the while working on brushing my teeth to cleanse myself of the taste of vomit.

“You okay?” He asked, face crinkled with concern as he leaned against the doorframe, giving me some space to move around.

“I mean I feel like I’ve been hit by a bus but yeah I’m fine.” Running my fingers through my hair, I looked up at him and sighed. “Stop worrying, I’m fine. It’s just my body’s way of coping with all the stress I’ve put it through finally starting to ebb.” Paul didn’t look convinced but he didn’t say anything other than asking if I wanted breakfast. When I shook my head he nodded and left the room telling me to come get him if I needed him or changed my mind on food.

Since I’d decided to wait a while for my stomach to settle before eating, I grabbed my computer to sort through work emails and handle some paperwork. Getting lost in my work it was lunchtime before I even looked up, and after finishing what I was working on for the moment, I decided it was time for a break and to try and eat something. I already felt much better than just a few hours ago.

Digging through Paul’s kitchen was a sad affair, the man was definitely a bachelor. Thankfully he had some chicken breasts in the freezer and some fresh vegetables in the produce drawer of his fridge. Pulling out the chicken, I placed it on a plate in the microwave to defrost before pulling out the vegetables to cut after tracking down a cutting board and knife.

Once the chicken was defrosted, I slipped out to the patio to start his grill, throwing the chicken on to start cooking once I’d seasoned it with a spice mix I had found in his cabinets. While the chicken cooked, I plated up the vegetables and washed the dishes I’d used. Fifteen minutes later the chicken was done and I added it to the plates after letting it sit to redistribute the juices.

Paul had worked out earlier but I wasn’t sure where he’d disappeared to while I was working. Padding through the condo, I found him lounging in his bed with the tv playing softly and notes for either the yotes or the podcast surrounding him. Tapping on the doorframe to draw his attention I smiled when he looked up at me.

“Hey…I made lunch if you’re hungry…” Shoving papers to the side he quickly stood up and walked toward me.

“What the hell did you find to make?” He questioned, expression confused but impressed.

“Just grilled up some chicken breasts and cut up some vegetables. Nothing super complex.” It was also something that I hoped would be light enough that my stomach wouldn’t react adversely. Grabbing a plate from the counter, I moved out to the patio, planning on enjoying this weather as much as I could. After all, there was no way I could sit outside to eat back at home.

Paul followed, balancing his plate along with two glasses, gently setting one in front of me before sitting his own food and drink down.

“Just iced tea.” He assured me and I nodded murmuring my thanks. Lunch went down easy and when I was finished I leaned back in my chair just looking out at the great view.

“So what time do we need to leave for the arena?” I questioned, my brain always trying to plan out the next steps of whatever it was I was doing. I had no idea what I was going to wear or where I’d be sitting for the game and it left me slightly uneasy.

“Probably around 4. That way I can give you a quick tour and make sure I have everything ready.” Nodding at his answer, I declared that that sounded good and took his plate when he was finished, slipping back inside to wash them up and put everything from lunch away. Having gotten everything I wanted to get done work-wise accomplished earlier, I moved to grab the book I’d thrown in my bag and settled myself back outside to enjoy some more fresh air.

Knowing that it wouldn’t take that long to get ready, I set an alarm for three pm to stop reading if I hadn’t gotten tired of the book by then. Around 2:45, I heard the patio door open and then quickly shut and before I could turn around or react, a piece of soft fabric was landing in my lap. Picking it up, I chuckled seeing that it was obviously one of Paul’s t-shirts that he’d gotten from the team in his years here.

Grabbing the shirt and my things, I moved back inside, shaking my head as I could hear Paul rattling around in his closet. Stopping in his doorway, I poked my head in.

“Thanks.” I called out and when he entered my vision without a shirt on, I lost my train of thought. 

“Figured I’d save you the mental turmoil over what to wear.” He teased and it was pretty sad that after less than a month he knew me that well already. Ducking my head, I slipped away from the room and back to the guest bedroom, shutting the door behind me. Paul was an attractive man and even someone recovering from heartbreak could see that.

Quickly, I slipped into the pair of jeans I’d brought and after throwing on a black long sleeve t-shirt, I pulled Paul’s shirt on over it. The material was so soft in the way that showed that it was well worn and it definitely had that lingering smell that signaled it belonged to a man. Since I was absolutely swimming in it, I quickly tucked it into my jeans so that it didn’t look quite so baggy.

Now dressed, I grabbed the little bit of makeup I’d brought as well as my curling iron and made my way to the guest bathroom to finish getting ready. My hair would definitely take the longest so while I waited for the curling iron to heat up I quickly did my make up, keeping it simple with just foundation, eyeliner, mascara, blush, and lipstick.

By the time we needed to leave I’d managed to get my hair curled into soft waves and after unplugging the curling iron and grabbing my things, I made my way to the living room to wait on Paul. When he appeared all dressed in his suit, I couldn’t help but tease him about cleaning up nice. In return he lightly commented that I looked hot in his clothes, making me flush slightly as I laughed, enjoying the easy banter between us. 

I’d been to a few different NHL arenas before but I’d never gotten the full tour and so I was sure the wonder showed on my face as Paul showed me around before leading me up to the box where he did the radio broadcast. It was a pretty nice view of the ice and I listened intently as he explained everything. Seeing someone be passionate about what they were doing was always something that got my attention and it seemed like he really had found his niche with all of the media work he was doing.

Sadly the game ended in a loss but I’d had fun all the same, going down to rinkside for warmups where Clayton Keller tossed me a puck after having met me when Paul and I ran into him earlier. Paul had put me into one of the season tickets seats he’d purchased and while I liked the view from above, it was always nicer feeling like I was close to the action in the middle of the crowd.

Arriving back at his condo, I was completely worn out and after hugging Paul goodnight and thanking him again for letting me stay with him and for providing a great night out, I slipped into the guest bedroom and passed out after changing into pajamas.

Chapter 3 Social Media: