OOM: Room 6620, #6

[the_gene_genie]

He knows he's probably in trouble as he drags himself up the stairs. He only went down to have a quick pint, and pick up some more wine. He's been gone about five hours now, he estimates, though it's really hard to care. Sitting on the garage floor after a scrap has left him stiff as a board, and freezing cold. The half bottle of Scotch - not to mention Guppy smacking him on the melon a few times - means his head's pounding. Everything aches, and he wants nothing more than to climb into a warm bed, and stay there forever.

But he can't do that. Enough of this. He's been trying so hard, but it's time to throw in the towel. He can't go through another encounter like that. All that's left is to tell her.

He lets himself into their room quietly, half hoping she'll be asleep but knowing he'd have to wake her up anyway.

Comments

[lady_bols]

She wraps him up in her arms, holding him close, her hands stroking through his hair.

'Stay with me. Just until morning. Stay the night...'

Her voice breaks, and she draws in a breath, holding it. And then letting it go in a long, shivering sigh. Surrendering to the reality of it all. Taken all at once, it's too much for one person to handle all on her own.

That's what she thought, her first night in Fenchurch, in that ridiculous black and white decorating disaster of a flat over an Italian restaurant.

And yet, here they are.

'Dinner will be here soon.'

[the_gene_genie]

He nods, drowsy but not wanting to sleep. Her touch is soothing, and her words bring reality back; the large, and the small. He's leaving her. And his leg hurts.

He stretches his neck an inch or two, and kisses her under her ear. Then eases himself to the side, out of her body and fully back into his own. Things hurt, but at least he's not cold any more.

[lady_bols]

She follows, as if she can't bring herself to stop touching him. She props herself on one elbow above him. It's hard to watch him pull back into himself, but she thinks she understands. Idly, she brushes a lock of hair back from his forehead.

They've been through worse, haven't they? Her lips twitch, and a sad smile emerges.

'I know just the thing.'

Gingerly, she rises, retrieving her robe from the foot of her bed, slipping it on as she moves through the room. A bottle of Scotch is retrieved, and a couple of glasses. She finds his cigarettes and lighter as well. She sets them all down on his bedside table, pausing briefly to touch his arm before moving away again.

She drags her hands through her hair, long and straight now, twisting it up into a knot at the base of her skull, disappearing into the bath. He can hear her moving about a bit, and then the sound of the bath taps being turned.

She returns, looking a bit more composed, a bit more self-contained. She pours them both a measure of Scotch, and settles at his hip, holding his out to him.

[the_gene_genie]

He lights a cigarette when she's in the bathroom, and thinks about nothing.

When she returns, he smiles and takes the drink.

'Ta, luv.'

He holds the glass and his fag in one hand, and rubs her knee with the other.

'You all right?'

[lady_bols]

She smiles at his touch, her gaze dropping for a moment before returning to his face.

'I'm trying to be.' She touches the rim of her glass to his and takes a sip, closing her eyes as it burns it's way down her throat. She doesn't look back to him for a long moment, and when she does, her eyes have that same dark intensity he should know by now.

'You know, you still haven't answered my question. My very serious question. The one you had to think about?'

There's a hint of levity in her tone, but just a hint.

[the_gene_genie]

It takes a moment to remember what she means. It's never been far from his thoughts, but everything that happened today pushed it away. He smokes in silence, reacquainting himself with his feelings on the matter.

'I don't know,' he says, at last.

'I don't know how it'd work.'

[lady_bols]

Her brow furrows for a moment, and she swirls the last swallow of Scotch in her glass, trying to keep her feelings on the matter measured and rational.

'What do you mean?'

[the_gene_genie]

He gets the impression he has to tread carefully here. It's always hard for him. But he'll try, because he doesn't want to spoil this.

'You said you asked because you didn't want me to forget you. But I don't think it works like that. Everybody forgets everything.'

He wants to forget so bad, it hurts. Not her. Just everything else.

'We found out the Security badge'll bring me back.'

[lady_bols]

She's shaking her head before he's even finished with his sentence.

'That's -- I'm sorry, that's not what I meant.'

She lays her hand over his, studying the way their fingers interlace. How different they are, how strange and beautiful.

'It's true, I don't want you to forget me. To forget -- this, what we have. But that's not why I want -- I mean, maybe that's why I asked you then, but it's not why -- It's not why I'm still asking.'

She babbles when she's nervous. And he's always had a way of making her feel like she's a bit of a mess. She was never this way before Fenchurch, she thinks. (She was, but she never had anyone who cared enough to look close enough to see the cracks.)

'I don't know, maybe it's old-fashioned...'

[the_gene_genie]

He finishes his cigarette, and grinds it out.

'If you've changed it to wanting it 'cos of-'

He doesn't know where he was going with that. Not if he's still treading carefully. His eyes close.


Then open.



'It's my job to ask.'

[lady_bols]

That gives her pause. Her chest feels tight, and her mouth has gone dry all of a sudden.

'Well, go on then.'

[the_gene_genie]

Oh God, what the hell just happened?





'I didn't say I was going to.'

[lady_bols]

'Oh.'

Well, she should have known as much.

'Well, I did. Beat you to the punch, twice now.'

If he doesn't know by now how much he means to her, how much she wants this, then no amount of babbling on and on about her reasons is going to bridge that divide. He know she came back for him. He knows she'd go to the ends of the universe for him. But she's never been good at waiting.

'What did you mean, you didn't know how it would work?'

[the_gene_genie]

He scrubs an eye with the heel of his hand, and tries to think.

'I don't know. I've never lived in more than one world before. How am I supposed to know whether things would change? I'm trying not to break stuff.'

[lady_bols]

Again, her brow furrows.

'I'm sorry, I don't understand. I don't see how you and I getting married would break anything.'

She has no idea what he's worried about.

[the_gene_genie]

'You mean, apart from the way in which you're supposed to have moved on and not be in my life any more? You can't come back to live with me. I can't live here all the time. I don't know how me going between here and there all the time is going to work, let alone if we-'

He breaks off, and looks away. This is all true, but it's not the main reason he's hesitating.


'Alex, we've barely been together ten days. We've spent literally all that time dealing with the fact that we're dead. It's not a basis for marriage.'

[lady_bols]

Her lower lip juts out as he talks, and then he gets to the crux of the matter. She licks her lips, her gaze focused very intently on the backs of their hands.

'We've only been together as a couple for a few days. But there's more to this,' her hand squeezes his, 'than that.'

'All right, maybe you're right. Maybe this isn't the right time.' Her eyes close, and her lips thin as she chokes down a wave of emotion.

'At least you could...' Again, her voice evaporates on her lips, and she holds herself very still. As if even the slightest breeze might cause her to crumble to dust.

[the_gene_genie]

'...what?'

[lady_bols]

She laughs under her breath, realizing that she's gripping his hands so hard, her knuckles are blanched. It takes an effort of will, but she forces herself to relax.

'I am off the map again, and floundering in deep waters, love. It may look like I'm clinging to you because I have nothing else left, and I wouldn't blame you if you thought that.'

She forces her hands to go through the motions of filling their glasses again.

'But I told you two things at Christmas, that first year.'

She hands him his glass back, and takes another sip.

'You only heard the second thing, that I couldn't. You never heard me say that I wanted to. That I wanted you then, I wanted this kind of relationship with you then.'

'Honestly, Gene, if we wait around for all the reasons we shouldn't do this to resolve themselves, well... I get the feeling we'll never get there. And I, for one, am so tired of waiting for things to go my way.'

[the_gene_genie]

He accepts the drink, and listens, and really wants to go to sleep. All of this...he just can't.


'I can't marry a woman, any woman, after ten days, Alex. It's just not right. You might have wanted this for two years - and I know I did - but you never told me. I can't go from zero to a thousand miles an hour in the space of a week.'

Can't, and wouldn't, even if all the other shit hadn't happened.

'You're saying 'what are the reasons we shouldn't do this' without me even saying that's what I want, yet. Christ, last week I'd been married before, for twenty-odd years. Now I know I never was. Give me a bloody chance, would you?'

He doesn't sound annoyed, though he's starting to feel it. Just tired. Resigned to the fact that there's never any peace, anywhere.

[lady_bols]

She nods, and withdraws her hand, curling it around her glass, trying to isolate the sensations of cool and smooth against her palm. (Trying to smother her fear at losing him again, at losing everything again. It's happened so many times, she should be used to it by now, shouldn't she?) When she looks up at him, it's with a sympathetic, and yes, apologetic smile.

'Yes, you're -- absolutely right. It's daft, to even think it, let alone ask the question out loud.'

She swallows again, and stands, setting her glass aside and walking to the door.

'Maybe they left the trolley outside?'

She opens the door, and a moment later, her suspicions are confirmed. Dinner has been here for awhile.

[the_gene_genie]

And now he feels like shit. But not so much that he'll change his mind. He's lost himself already once. He has to hold on to the things that feel right.

Still.

'I'm not saying never, luv. Lets just get over this first, eh?'

[lady_bols]

She wheels the trolley in, her features set in a cool, collected mask. She doesn't want him to see the fear in her eyes. He doesn't know her, not yet. At least not consciously. He knows the major players, but he doesn't know how her life has been plagued by loss, and why should he? He's had his own demons to battle.

'I know,' she answers, starting to set up the table and then pausing. She sighs, and returns to his side of the bed, sitting close to him, one hand at his cheek.

'I trust you, love. I've never felt this way about anyone before. It scares me, frankly. Makes me feel -- vulnerable. Exposed.'

[the_gene_genie]

'Getting married won't take that away,' he says, quietly.

'Not if it's not done right.'

He's trying to do the right thing. Saying yes when they're this unstable doesn't allow any room for what might happen if things change again. Better to find out how things work first, before making that kind of commitment.

[lady_bols]

She nods again, a half-hearted smile on her lips. Her gaze moves away, listening to the bath water, realising she'd best go turn the taps off before they have another mess to clean up.

He's right, and she knows it. And if he leaves and never comes back, what difference would a ring make?

'Would you do one thing for me? Mad as a bag of bees though I may be?'