#just a little something to shake the cobwebs from my vanity fest fics

[piratekane]

Numbers don't show up for me so I'm choosing “There’s something I’ve been meaning to say…" (from the happy list)

The wind is blistering sharp, cutting through the thin fabric of the dressing gown Charity had slipped on before she slipped out the door, leaving Vanessa and the boys asleep in their beds. The grassland stretches out ahead of her, lush greens fading into the green-blue water of the bay below. In the morning twilight, it feels like a dream she doesn’t want to wake from.

“You’re up early.”

Charity smiles as a pair of warm arms slide around her waist, fingers locking at the swell of her stomach.

“It’s gorgeous,” Vanessa continues, her words a whisper that Charity barely manages to hear before the wind whips them away.

Charity thought Dingle Peninsula would have been a joke, honestly.

Taking a holiday had seemed like a terrible idea. This wasn’t the time, not with everything they had going on. But the village was becoming too hard to breathe in, and if she didn’t get away now, she’d try and leave when she was needed most - when Chas had the baby and when Sarah’s heart came through and when they tried to get her in the courtroom to give her testimony against Bails. She couldn’t leave then, so now was the only option.

She’d rolled her eyes when she first scrolled through housing options in Kerry, skipping right over the homes to rent in Dingle. Kenmare would have been just as good, really, but she had kept coming back to a small, 3-bedroom cottage for rent right on Burnham Woods, with a big open kitchen and a working fireplace.

Dingle Tides, it was called.

Vanessa had laughed so hard she cried and even Noah, clamouring out of the backseat where he had been stuck between Moses and Johnny, had managed a bit of a chuckle. Vanessa had reached across the car and rested her hand high on Charity’s thigh, squeezing as she wiped her eyes with her other hand. Something had rippled through Charity then. It wasn’t the usual feeling she got when Vanessa’s hand hit the ticklish spot just above the inseam on her thigh. It was warmer and softer this time, comforting. She’d dropped her hand over Vanessa’s and squeezed back, trying to ignore the sudden jump of her pulse under her skin in favor of letting Johnny and Moses loose in the front garden.

“Couldn’t sleep. Today is drayman day,” Charity says. She drops her hands over Vanessa’s, her thumb brushing over the ridge of Vanessa’s knuckles.

Vanessa smiles, her mouth pressed to the back of Charity’s shoulder. “We’re on holiday, remember?”

“Can’t change the internal clock, can I,” Charity says absently.

Charity moves in place, feeling Vanessa bend and sway with her. The wind pushes her hair back and she shifts slightly, making sure it doesn’t end up all in Vanessa’s face. The arms around her waist tighten and she inhales deeply, letting the cool, salty air fill her lungs. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to say.”

Vanessa’s hands twitch under her own and Charity feels her tense against her back. “Is there?”

Charity thinks about turning around, but the idea of looking into Vanessa’s eyes as she speaks is immobilizing. She smoothes her hands back up Vanessa’s arms and down to her hands, peeling them apart and lacing her fingers into the empty spaces she creates. Vanessa’s body relaxes, just barely. Her mouth purses, her lips in the center of Charity’s back, just over the line of her spine. She can feel Vanessa’s forehead through the thin fabric of her dressing gown and she breathes in again.

The words have been on the tip of her tongue for weeks now, always a breath away. She’s too nervous, though, to speak them into existence. Not because she doesn’t mean them, but because she’s never meant anything more in her whole life. Her next breath is harder to find and she sucks it down greedily, her body shuddering as she tries not to start to panic.

Vanessa must feel it, her fear and hesitation. She starts to sway again, gently, back and forth. She hums something Charity can’t hear, but she can feel it start in her shoulder and travel to the center of her palm. Vanessa’s chest rises and falls against her back, gently coaxing her to follow along. Her body responds, her next inhale matching Vanessa’s, their exhales fading into the misty morning together.

This is what she’s been trying to say.

Vanessa grounds her. Vanessa steadies her. Vanessa nudges her up, pushing her to do the things she knows she wants to do; the things she’s not sure she has the courage to try. But Vanessa is there, in it for the duration, going nowhere, right by her side.

Vanessa makes her want to be the best version of herself that she can be.

Charity is just now figuring out what that version is, but she knows one thing, at least.

“I-”

“I know,” Vanessa murmurs.

Charity frowns. “You what?”

Vanessa laughs, something low that Charity feels more than she hears. “I said, I know.”

“What do you know?” Charity asks, her cheeks flushed. She drops Vanessa’s hand and inches forward, picking up the loose end of the thin sash tied around her waist as she puts some space between them.

Vanessa clicks her tongue and moves forward, her arms around Charity’s waist again. She reaches for Charity’s hand, working the silk out from between her fingers before she squeezes Charity’s hand gently, admonishing her in that easy way she does. “I know quite a bit, Charity Dingle.”

Charity gives in, leaning back against Vanessa again. “Know-It-All,” she mumbles. “What do you think you know, then?”

“I know,” Vanessa says, pausing. She pushes up, her chin resting on Charity’s shoulder. “I know that this is the best holiday I’ve been on.”

“Not much for holidays, are you?” Charity asks, scoffing. “Babe, Noah has been a moody cow at all waking hours. Johnny and Moses argue about everything. Every day we’ve packed the car, it’s rained.”

Vanessa laughs again, louder now. “Noah helped me make tea last night,” she points out. “I taught him how to hold a knife properly. He’s going to try it on his own tonight, you know.” She squeezes Charity’s middle when Charity tries to interrupt her. “Johnny and Moses have fallen asleep every night so far cuddled up together. And so what if we haven’t gotten to the beach, yet? Our Scrabble tourney is very thrilling, if you ask me.”

“Totally, babe,” Charity says, shaking her head. “Noah’s addition of the word ‘wazzock’ really gave the board a bit of something extra, didn’t it.”

“He played, eh?” Vanessa’s chin digs hard into Charity’s shoulder. “Baby steps. He’ll be my mate yet.”

Charity sighs heavily. She frowns when the weight and heat at her back fades and Vanessa steps in front of her, hands on her hips and the skin between her eyebrows wrinkled.

“This has been the best holiday I’ve ever been on,” Vanessa repeats. Her eyes are shining with something that Charity doesn’t argue with. “I wouldn’t trade a single moment of it away for anything. I’d not even trade Noah away.”

“Steady on,” Charity murmurs, her hands sliding around Vanessa’s waist, pulling her closer. “He’s at an age, you know. Even I’d trade him in for another Moses.”

“Do you want to know a secret?” Vanessa asks, ignoring Charity. “I wouldn’t change a single thing about this trip.” She purses her lips. “Maybe the weather, yeah? But everything else, I’d keep exactly the same. Even if we went from a village of Dingles to a village called Dingle.” She reaches up, thumbing the edge of Charity’s chin. “Anywhere you are… Well, that’s somewhere I’d want to be.”

Charity can feel a flush across her neck and she swallows back against the urge to snark back, to say something and ruin the moment. Vanessa’s eyes are bright and wide and they put the ocean behind her to shame.

“And that thing? The one you’ve been meaning to tell me?” Vanessa continues. “You don’t have to say it.”

Something turns in her stomach and Charity starts to shake her head. She wants to say it. She might even need to.

“Because I know,” Vanessa says again. Her voice is low and her eyes are soft and her hand is warm against Charity’s face. “And I feel the same way.”

The feeling in her stomach tightens. “You do?”

“Totally,” Vanessa breathes out. She lifts up onto her toes, her mouth against Charity’s. Her lips are slightly chapped and cool from the wind, but Charity pulls her closer, kissing her harder.

“Mum!” Noah yells from the door of the cottage, headphones already hanging around his neck.

Vanessa laughs into her mouth, resting her forehead against Charity’s shoulder.

“Moses and Johnny tried to pour cereal. And milk.” Noah pauses. “They missed. Twice.”

Charity groans and Vanessa laughs again, lifting up onto her toes to press a kiss to the corner of Charity’s mouth.

“Come on, then. Before the pour out the brews I made, too,” Vanessa says, grabbing Charity’s hand and tugging her gently back towards the cottage. “Then we’ll pack the car and drive down to the harbour to check the conditions. Today is going to be our beach day, I can feel it.” She gets ahead of Charity, gently nudging Noah out of the way.

Charity watches him roll his eyes, but without the usual malice of late. Moses and Johnny are running around in their Paw Patrol pyjamas, their socked feet milky and wetting the floor. Vanessa catches both of them and strips their socks off, sending them back into the living room where Noah has already put on some cartoon for them. He catches the roll of towels that Vanessa throws to him and lines his shoes, sliding around the floor to clean the mess. Vanessa laughs at him, but does the same. Charity leans against the back of the sofa, one hand resting on Johnny’s head as she absently brushes his hair to one side. Moses grins up at her and she smiles back, winking.

Vanessa might be right; this might be the best holiday she’s ever had, too.