Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Vaguely, as if the voice was coming from a different planet, I registered that someone was talking to me, but I was far too preoccupied to really pay any attention.
«Hello?» Suddenly I realized whose voice was talking to me in an increasingly impatient tone and I spun around.
«Oh! I'm sorry, I probably shouldn't stand here, I should probably be somewhere else and do something... completely different, like do some... important... work...» My face grew hotter and hotter as I rambled.
«No no, I didn't come to shout at you for not doing your job or anything, I just... You've been staring at that car for over ten minutes now, and... Frankly, I didn't think girls ever did that unless they were maybe hypnotized or or.. or... high,» he finished awkwardly. At first, I just stared at him, utterly puzzled, before I eventually smiled a little embarrassedly.
«Well... This is my favorite car, see,” I explained, gesturing to it. «I don't know why, it's always been. Out of all the supercars, the Lambos or the Ferraris never did it for me, it was always the Astons, they're just so elegant and sleek and... sexy, I guess. I can't even explain why I particularly like the Astons, as I don't know anything about supercars, I mean, I've never even sat foot in one. I've barely seen an Aston Martin in real life before, that's why I'm staring. I walked past one in Camden once but that was a Vantage and was owned by some old, rich cock probably, and... er... wow, you’re still here?" I pried my eyes off the car for a moment and was surprised to find him still standing there.

“I don’t have that short of an attention span,” he quipped with a teasing smile. 
“No no, I didn’t mean… I just thought you would've grown tired of my ceaseless jabbering and wandered off by now,” I shrugged. The man stared at me unblinkingly, his arms folded across his chest. Privately I prayed for a black hole to open up beneath my feet and swallow me up. This man is a complete car nut, in fact he was world-famous for it, and what I have done is ranted and raved incoherently at him.
«No, I'm just desperately trying to remember what your name is,» he admitted, and to my surprise, I saw an embarrassed flinch flitted across his face.
“Oh, well, I'm er- nobody,” I shrugged.
“That's rather mean to name a child 'nobody',” he pointed out dryly. I let out an involuntary snort.
“No, no, I just mean that I um, that I'm-” I stopped abruptly, squared my shoulders and stretched out a hand. It is high time I tried communicating in a manner that was understandable. “Hi. My name is Ronja.”
“...That isn't the most common name either,” he commented as he took my hand and shook it.
“Long story, my mum had an obsession with Swedish children's literature,” I waved my free hand. “The others just call me Ronnie, I think it helps them forget that I'm the only one of them who has breasts.» At this he guffawed loudly, his eyes crinkled up as showed off his perfect teeth and his childish laugh.
«I'm Richard... er, Hammond,” he smiled, still holding my hand in his.
«You know, as a matter of fact, I did know that.” I returned his smile and was given my hand back.
«You just started working here for this season, didn't you?» He asked, squinting a little as he tried to remember.
«That's right, I'm a.... rookie tech assistant, of sorts… Oh who am I kidding, I’m the grunt who gets to do all the boring shit,” I admitted, rolling my eyes. Richard rewarded me with another hearty laugh.
“Ah, that might explain why I didn't know your name, I do like to think that I know the people I'm working with. Mostly,” he added, still smiling.
“Anyway, I'm going to stop... drooling all over this shiny DB9 and go away... now... And, you know... Work.» I gestured clumsily to the car, then towards the far corner of the studio.
«Oh, okay, all right, see you around, Ronja,» he said, shoving his hands into his pockets, letting me go. Turning on my heels I had to restrain myself from running across the studio floor, far away from him and the embarrassment. His presence had caught me by surprise, as it‘s only Tuesday. Studio shoots normally take place on a Wednesday, and the presenters were rarely around the day before. I was just here with the rest of the crew to prepare for the shoot tomorrow. Still feeling like my cheeks were on fire I go back to my job, making a mental note to stay very low and, if possible, avoid Richard Hammond at all costs from here on. The glowing, painful knot of embarrassment lingered in the pit of my stomach all day, refusing to let go. I had made such an arse of myself. And why had I? Because I was star-struck? I scoffed at myself at the thought, I was not some fawning fangirl who got starstruck, was I? Apparently, I was. Sighing deeply I tried to shake it off and focus on my job, which basically consisted of lugging rolls of cables around for the lights, cameras, sound equipment, and monitors. Or coiling the cables back up and putting them back into place, or doing odd jobs for the senior technicians in the crew. I have tried to learn as much as I can in the short time I have been here, and had already adopted the habit of wearing all black and always having duct tape, a torch, and a walkie hanging off my belt.
Later the same day I sat down outside the studio to enjoy a cup of tea, a guilty cigarette, and some precious minutes of British sunshine.
«Hello again!» At the sound of the unexpected voice, I jumped out of the chair. I had respect for these chairs, having always regarded them as reserved for the presenters, Andy Wilman, or any of the people much higher up the food chain than me. The rest of the crew use them freely every other day when the 'important' people are away, but Wednesdays they were just off-limits. Now I felt like I was trespassing on some VIP area where I wasn't supposed to be. Which was silly, because it was just a few uncomfortable, plasticky garden chairs.
«Oh, hi. S-s-s-sorry, I was just leaving...» I gestured to the chair.
«For crying out loud, sit down and finish your fag will you? Keep me company.» Richard said carelessly as he pulled a packet out of his own pocket, sat down on a free chair, and lit up. «Sorry if I startled you.»
«What? No, that's okay, I was just... I spaced out,» I waved as I lowered myself into the holy garden chair again.
"You seem to do that," He observed. Silence fell as we both smoke quietly for a while.
«So I've always wondered... What's it really like working with... well, us?» He asked, looking half curious and half mischievous.
«Oh it's... good, it's fun, I like it,» I nodded, trying to avoid ranting any more at the poor man.
«You just have to say that because you're new, and I'm one of the presenters,» he countered with a boyish, teasing smirk.
«No, I mean it,» I said honestly. «I studied media for a few years, it's really interesting learning more about producing telly. And it's a long, long way away from what I normally do.»
«And what is that?» He asked before blowing smoke out between his lips. I frowned, surprised that he keeps asking questions, that he was showing any interest in who I am and what I had done before.
«I'm a nurse, believe it or not. I used to work in London, but I just... needed a break, do something else, get out of the city for a bit.»
«Yeah, sometimes you just need some change in your life. And sometimes it comes along when you don't expect it, whether you want it or not,» he answered mysteriously. For a moment he stared blankly into space, looking a little sad, losing himself in his own thoughts. Privately I wondered if he was thinking about his own life, the divorce he was just going through. But I had only heard about that through others, rumors from the tabloids, and mentioning it aloud was the last thing on my mind. It was no business of mine anyway.
«You're right about that,» I sighed. Noticing that I was giving him a look full of sympathy he tried to snap himself out of it, squaring his shoulders. «I didn't expect to see you here today, normally you guys are only around on Wednesdays.» I knew why he was here, but I was just casting around for a change of subject.
«Yeah, I know, I just needed to film a review for a car, a last-minute thing, replacing another bit. It got dumped on me, the other two are busy. Jezza is busy being a dad and James is very busy being madly in love,” he grumbled.
“What, James May? Captain Slow?» I raised an eyebrow, unable to hide my surprise.
«I know, right? Miracles do happen,» Richard giggled. «she’s a nurse too funnily enough, and another Norwegian. An those two were like… I hate the expression but love at first sight.”’ “Aw I’m happy for him, He seems like a sweet man, he deserves it,” I smiled, getting a little lost in on own romantic longings. Having finished my fag a long time ago I was now cradling my mug of tea, needing to hide my nerves by having something to fiddle with. «You said you’ve never driven a supercar, so… What’s the most interesting car you've ever driven?» He asked suddenly, displaying his knack for random and unexpected questions. He was a journalist, after all.
«Oh god, no... Don't ask me that,» I gave him a pleading look, shaking my head slightly.
“Please?”
“No.” I clammed up, crossing my arms stubbornly. “I'm not telling you.”
“Why noooooot?” He whined childishly.
“Because it's too embarrassing.”
“Oh come on, imagine all the crap I've had to drive around in! Including a fair few things built by Jeremy! Come on, give it up!” He persisted. I sighed and leaned forward, hiding my face in my hands in shame.
“A 1965 MGB..” I mumbled into my own hands, then peeked at him through a gap in my fingers. Richard screwed up his face in disbelief, staring at me intently.
“... Really?” He asked incredulously, gauging if I was truly serious.
“Really,” I sighed, straightening up again. “Unless you count a Ford tractor from the 80s interesting. With a plow behind it, mind.”
“See, that is interesting! I don't think I've ever heard about a girl who has done that!”
“Well, I worked on a farm for a year and a half, that's the explanation for that.” Richard remained quiet as he took the final puff of his cigarette and flicked it away across the tarmac, staring at me all the while.
“Come on. I'm going to give you a ride,” he said firmly.
“... Excuse me?” I raised my eyebrows at him, unable to hide a smirk. Richard smirked back, showing that he was well aware of what he had insinuated.
“Wipe off that naughty grin, miss, and come on,” he ordered. Slightly baffled as to why this man was suddenly talking to me like he'd known me for ages, I got up and trailed slowly after him as he marched over to the barracks we all called the production office. After a moment he reappeared at the top of the stairs, jangling a pair of keys vigorously.
”Hey, you don’t have to-  you’re probably super busy, and-“ I began, but Richard waved me down. He was obviously taking me out on the test track or something, and as much as I'd love to come along for the ride, I was thinking that the newbie probably shouldn't spend time at work joyriding around a racetrack.
”I’m not busy. Besides, this is important,” he said, making it sound like it was a very grave matter. Ascending the stairs he marched right past me and headed straight for the row of cars parked along the side of the studio hangar. The Aston I had previously been drooling over was there, parked between a Subaru and a blingy Range Rover sport, and he made a beeline for it. “Get in.” He pointed to the other side of the car. My heart shots back up into my throat and my hand shook as I open the door to an Aston Martin for the first time and sink into the passenger seat. Habitually, having done this a thousand times before, Richard shoved the key in the ignition and fired it up. A broad grin spread across his face and he gave me a sleazy, squinty, seductive look, as if he was trying to impersonate Dirty Harry. “Oooh yeah.”
“Jesus...” I breathed, unable to say much else.
“I know...” Richard nodded knowingly.
“Go easy on me... It's my first time,” I squeaked. The adrenaline in my body must be what made me bold enough to carry on with these sleazy innuendos he started earlier. Richard guffawed loudly at this, and without further ado or warning, he wrenched the car into reverse, backed out of the parking spot, threw it into gear, and teared out onto the test track. Clinging onto the edges of the seat I squealed loudly with both fear and excitement. It felt like being in a jet fighter, the G-force when it accelerates pressed me down in my seat and squeezed the air out of my lungs. Richard was relentless, he pounded down the straights and powerslides through every single corner, being a complete yobbo. He drove the Aston out to the end of the runway then decelerated to a complete halt. While revving the engine he stared at me with a manic gleam in his eyes, looking a little mad. “Uh-oh,” I muttered, and in the next second the car launches off. Richard clamped his foot down, letting the rev counter hit red before changing gears. I felt like I had left my innards behind at the end of the runway.
“Hundred and fifty miles an hour!” he shouted over the roar of the engine, sounding a little like Jezza all of a sudden. The other end of the runway was approaching with blinding speed, but just as I was about to scream at him he hit the break and we decelerate. As the din of the engine quieted down I notice that I was breathing loudly and heavily, as if I was the one who had just gone a hundred and fifty miles an hour. Some part of me kept thinking that he was just like a pubescent boy, showing off, trying to be cool but really just acting like a tosspot. But another part of me was admitting to liking it.
“Bloody hell...” I squeaked.
“That's what they all say,” he said with an airy sniff as the car came to a halt. The expression on Richard's face was incredibly smug, and for a second I imagined him in a bed, his hair disheveled, wearing the same expression because he had just given a woman a mind-blowing orgasm. I bit my lip to try and stop myself from blushing. "Stop it, you don't even know the man!"  But the mental image wouldn't leave my mind. “Now. Your turn.” That quickly wiped the grin off my face.
“What? No, no, I... Richard, wait,” I spluttered, but Richard just left the car in neutral and climbed nonchalantly out of it, my protests falling on deaf ears. Not interested in arguing with him through the front windscreen I got out of the car. Planting my hands on my sides I stared at him stubbornly. “But.. What if I break it?”
“We have mechanics, they'll fix it,” he shrugged carelessly.
“But it might be a really fucking expensive thing!”
“Blame it on me. It won't be the first time I've blown up a supercar on this track.”
“And what if I crash it?”
“It has airbags.”
“What if I kill us both?”
“Then we won't have much to worry about, will we!” He shouted back, sounding exactly like the tetchy man I'd seen bickering with Jezza and May a thousand times on the telly.
“All right, fine!” I huffed, having run out of arguments. Marching angrily over to the driver's side I goit in. Sitting down in the comfortable leather seat I ran my hand over the steering wheel, trying to calm my trembling hands. “Wow, I don't even have to adjust the seat!” The words fell out of my mouth before I managed to stop myself. My next immediate instinct was to smack my face into the steering wheel. Everyone in the entire world makes fun of Richard for his height, it was the last thing I wanted to do. I looked over at him with an apologetic expression. “Sorry.” To my surprise, he just laughed.
“Now go on – drive the car,” he urged.
“I can't,” I groaned, terrified, feeling like I was behind the controls of a space shuttle.
“Yes, you can. Go on.”
“I'll pee my pants,” I squeaked.
“Don't. You'll ruin the seat. A premium cow in Warwickshire died just so you could sit that comfortably,” he countered dryly. I looked down to my left, incredibly relieved to find a gear knob.
“Thank fuck, it's manual!" I exclaimed. “I wouldn't even know what to do with flappy paddles.” My legs shook almost uncontrollably when I stepped on the clutch and put it into first. My memory of what happened after the car started moving would always be a little blurry. The adrenaline, the fear, the excitement of it made everything turn into a haze. At first, I drove slowly, terrified of doing any sort of harm to this beautiful machine. It really felt like driving space ship, it felt like nothing I had ever driven before, or would probably drive again. The tightness, the precision, the pure power. Richard quickly took on the role of the impatient agitator, goading me on to go faster. His constant poking at my driving made me eventually run out of patience and snap. “Fine, I'll drive like a complete berk!” I huffed, threw it down into third, accelerated and turned into the curve. The back-end kicked out and I balanced the throttle carefully, praying silently that I wouldn't feed it too much power and spin out. I was almost bursting with pride when I manage to keep up the power slide through the entire curve. I counter-steered, straightening the car up again, and slowed down. “See? I've had a car with rear-wheel-drive before.”
“I - I - I  can see that!” Richard stammered, looking at me with wide eyes.
“Can you teach me how to do doughnuts now?” I asked eagerly, getting carried away. How in gods name did I end up in a DB9 asking Richard Hammond to teach me to do doughnuts? I had to be dreaming.
“That's the most beautiful question I've ever been asked!” He exclaimed, then immediately launched into instructions for making successful doughnuts. After a few failed attempts I managed to keep the Aston in a continual spin, doing about 5 or 6 rounds before I slowed down.
“Oh.. kay... I think that’s enough for today. Before I blow out a tire,” I decided, realizing that I had gotten a bit too carried away. Slowly and in a civilized manner, I drove the car off the test track and back into the parking lot. As I switched the engine off and took my hands off the wheel I saw that they shook quite badly. Richard got out of the car, walked around to the driver's side, and wrenched open the door.
“You okay?”
“I think you'll have to scoop me out of this car seat with a shovel,” I muttered, undoing the seatbelt with hands that still shook. Taking my request for help literally, he reached out for my hand and practically pulled me out of the car and on my legs. Suddenly I found myself face to face with him, about 6 inches of space separating us. He froze in his tracks for a moment, staring into my eyes before he cleared his throat and hastily took a step back. Closing the door behind me I leaned against the car, still not trusting my legs completely. Richard looked at me from under strands of stray, brown hair, excitement, and pride on his face.
“So you had fun?” He asked impatiently.
“Oh god, of course! I'm sorry, I'm just a little... speechless. That was... amazing, I can't believe I just got to drive this car.”
“And did some rather impressive doughnuts with it, I might add.”
“Thank you so... so much, Richard,” I said sincerely, deciding it was time to be serious for a little. I had just fulfilled a life-long dream, and I was sincerely grateful. “This really means a lot to me. Even though I know nothing about cars.”
“You do know something about cars, you know enough to know that this is a very special car. And enough to appreciate being able to drive one.”
“I will... never, ever forget this, I promise you. I'm not sure I'll ever get over it, either,” I admitted, giving him a grateful smile. Suddenly I felt myself blushing again and I averted my eyes, looking at the tarmac beneath my feet. Suddenly I realised that I didn't really know this man, but nevertheless, he had just given me the memory of a lifetime. And since I talked to him for the first time this morning, I had shown him a lot more of myself than I would normally show... anyone. And I had enjoyed every minute I've spent with him since then. 
“I'm glad you enjoyed it. I just thought you... really needed to upgrade your résumé a little, an MGB from the 60s can't be the most exciting thing on it."
“Again, thanks a lot. I hope I didn't ruin the car or anything.”
“You didn't pee your pants, did you?” He smirked.
“No,” I chuckled.
“Then it's decidedly fine.”
“Good. Listen, I better go, I have a few more things to do before I go home....” I mumbled, not really knowing how to finish this conversation, and not really wanting to either.
“Oh yeah, sure, of course. I better be getting home, too... See you tomorrow, then!” He said, smiling at me like he was looking forward to it. 
"Yeah, see you tomorrow," I said, returning the smile sincerely. I took my weight off the car and began walking back towards the studio. After a few steps, I turned back to Richard, discovering that he was watching me walk away. "And again, thanks a lot, Richard," I repeated, waving at him. 
"My pleasure, Ronja," he smiled, shoving his hands into his pockets again. My heart was still beating wildly in my throat, my palms were still clammy, and I wasn't sure I could blame it entirely on the car. 

Chapter Text

The following day there was a lot more hectic activity going on at the studio. The audience was usually let in by 2 pm, and before that there was always a mad scramble to get everything ready, even though we tried to prepare as best we could the day before. The stressful day had barely given me time to think about Richard, but whenever I saw him around I did my best to keep a low profile, sometimes even avoiding him. I feel like I showed him way too much yesterday, too much of who I am, he's probably thinking I'm really weird now. But when I was ordered over to change the batteries in the receiver for his microphone I couldn't avoid him any longer.
“Hi. Richard? Um, the batteries in your mic receiver are flat, I need to swap them out,” I mumbled, fidgeting with a fresh pair of batteries. The three presenters sat on the small, raised platform that serves as the stage in the middle of the studio, the table in front of them overflowing with manuscripts, phones and cups of tea.
“Ronja! Hello you!” he said cheerfully, immediately dropping his conversation with the other two. Jeremy and James swapped some confused, but discrete looks, having spotting Richard and me and our seemingly friendly tone. Digging the receiver out of his back pocket he handed it to me. I accepted it and fiddled for a little as I tried to open a lid to get to the batteries. “So, recovered from yesterday evening yet?” As he asked this I nearly dropped the receiver, and when my eyes shot up to him I am met with a mischievous grin and a cheeky raised eyebrow. Again he’s acting like he and I had been mates for ever. I frowned, giving him an exasperated look in return. He should know better than to drop innuendos like that with the other two close by. Still struggling with the plastic lid on the receiver I fished a screwdriver out from a pocket and forced it open.
“No... Because driving an Aston Martin for the first time is something I will probably never recover from,” I said pointedly, trying to make it as clear as possible what he was referring to.
“What, you let her drive the Aston?” James raised an eyebrow, sounding genuinely curious.
“Yeah, I bet he did,” Jeremy chuckled. “Then he probably gave her a real good ride in--” He continued. Hearing the snide tone in his voice I spun around to face Jeremy and point at him with my screwdriver, giving him my most threatening stare, despite not knowing him. The sight of a very small, but obviously very tetchy little woman with a sharp screwdriver cut his sentence short. I waved the screwdriver warningly at him a little, and left it at that. As tall, loud, and fearless as Jeremy seemed, he shrunk back at the sight of my look, and my weapon, and raised his hands to show his palms disarmingly. Slowly, reluctantly, I pocketed the screwdriver but gave Jeremy one last, dirty look.
“Hoooookay, he did not do anything to you whatsoever, inside an Aston Martin or outside of one, nor has he ever done so,” Jeremy said firmly. The other two giggled at the sight of Jeremy cowering. Richard even looked a little impressed. Having replaced the batteries I handed the receiver back to Richard, who gave me an apologetic look as he accepted it. 'I walked right into that, I should've known better', the look said. I cleared my throat and looked at Jeremy again.
“Now, if anybody gave anyone a good ride last night, it was me,” I smirked, flicking my hair, then walking away from them. I have no idea where my brashness, nor my bravery had come from, I was always the one who came up with comebacks like that three hours too late. Jezza and James immediately rewarded me with laughing loudly, while all I could hear from Richard was some faint squeaks of disbelief. 
“She wanted to learn how to do doughnuts…” He jabbered.

My dog had obediently been trailing after me all day, or at least stayed in the vicinity. He was an incredibly curious soul anyway, he absolutely had to know what I was up to, and now that he had come to work with me I was doing all sorts of things he has never seen me do before. He was also getting attention from everyone working around me, and to his great delight, he is continually showered with attention, cuddles, and scratches. For the last half-hour, he had been lying on the floor, staring at me while I coil up cables. Then, suddenly, on a whim or out of pure boredom, he gave a great bark and bounds away. My heart stopped when he disappeared around a corner and runs straight into the main studio. That was the last place I had wanted him to run, as I desperately didn’t want him to disturb the three presenters. Swearing under my breath I tore after him, shouting loudly.
“Sprocket! NO! Come here!” I barked, trying to sound stern even though I know it wouldn't work, when he took off like that nothing would stop him. Entering the studio I saw Sprocket happily trotting towards the only place in the open room that obviously holds people, which was the raised stage. Richard, James, and Jeremy were rehearsing their scripts again, and I am furious with myself for letting my dog disturb them. “I'm really sorry, guys! Sprocket, you bin-lid, come here!” I apologized, half-running after the dog.
“No, no, it's okay, don't worry about it,” Richard called across the studio, waving a hand. Sprocket, immediately recognizing a friendly dog lover, ran straight over to Richard and sniffed his hands and his trouser legs happily, licking his face, tail banging against the TV screen. Richard greeted him eagerly in return, scratching his neck and back enthusiastically. Reaching the little, raised platform I sat down on the edge of it, huffing with exasperation, half out of breath from chasing after him. Having finished with Richard, Sprocket trotted over to James, eagerly giving him the same round of sniffs.
“Hello, mate...” James says in his ever-so mild manner, scratching him behind the ears. Sprocket gave James' hand a quick lick of gratitude then rounded on the last man. Before Jeremy could stop him, Sprocket planted both feet in his lap and started licking his face vigorously. Jeremy flailed about with his long arms and legs for a moment before he managed to push the dog off his lap. James and Richard burst into laughter, while I hid my face in my hand. 
“Good, Sprocket…” I groaned, feeling mortified.
“He really likes you,” Richard giggled.
“Maybe he sees you as a conspecific,” James observed.
“A what?!” Jeremy barked, pretending to be annoyed but petting Sprocket all the same. James rolled his eyes at his co-worker's ignorance.
“As someone of the same species,” he explained in a bored, flat voice as if talking to a lowly peasant.
“Maybe he wants to mate!” Richard suggested eagerly, giggling his goofy laugh. Jeremy, unable to keep a straight face, chuckled and shook his head. Considering himself done with the greeting round, Sprocket sat down next to me and licked my ear once in an attempt to make me forget that he had run off and embarrassed me. 
“What was his name again?” James asked, pointing at him.
“Oh. This lumbering idiot’s name is Sprocket!” I announced, scratching him behind both ears.
“Sprocket? Really? Now that is a brilliant name!" He smiled. 
“I thought you'd like that. I was thinking that if I got another dog I might call him Gasket. But if I started down that road I'd end up with Spanner the Spaniel in the end,” I explained. At this James and the others chuckled. Suddenly I realized that they often refer to James as 'the spaniel', and immediately felt embarrassed about what I had said. “No offense,” I added, giving James an apologetic shrug.
“None taken,” he smiled disarmingly.
“I'm sorry for interrupting you, guys, he just... got it in his head the take off. I normally wouldn't bring him to work, but a bloke was coming over to fix my bathroom today. If I left him at home he’d be barking at the poor plumber all day.»
«Like I said, don't worry about it,» Richard waved. «He just wanted to say hello, didn't he? Yeah, it can't be that much fun tagging around with mum at work all day,» he crooned to the dog, who immediately made his way over to Richard and rested his head in his lap, letting Richard know he was ready for more cuddles.
«All right, now I know the dog's name, but what's yours?» James prompted. "Not sure I caught it last time we met." Richard gave a little start as he realized that he should probably have been the one to introduce me.
«Oh! Sorry, everyone, this is Ronja. Ronja, meet James...» I get up to shake James' hand. «...and that's Jeremy. Now, behave.» Jeremy towers over me as he got out of his seat and his huge hand shook mine politely.
”I’m not messing with her as long a she has that screwdriver,” Jeremy said with a smirk. «Wait. Ronja? Like the 'robber's daughter?» he asked, his hand still holding mine. I gaped at him, unable to answer or hide how baffled I am. «That Swedish childrens’ author, right, Astrid something...?» He continued. 
«Er... yes...?» I mumbled, still dumbfounded.
«Oh don't look so surprised. I have a million kids!» Jezza shouted theatrically. «They loved her books, especially my oldest, we read all of them! The Brothers Lionheart, Ronja, Karlsson-on-the-roof, Pippi Longstockings...» He rambled.
«Pippi what?» Richard piped up, looking equally confused and amused. Finally, the gift of speech returned to me
«Yeah, I am named after her, actually. I'm sorry, I just didn't expect you to be familiar with old, Scandinavian children's books.»
«Oh, I don't remember half of what I've read for the kids over the years, but those books I actually liked, I liked Ronja. She was independent and free.»
«Yeah, she had balls,» I summarized. «Figuratively, I mean.»
«Exactly,» Jeremy agreed.
«And on that bombshell...» James mumbled, causing us all to chuckle.
«Anyway, I should take my mongrel and get out of your way...» I began.
«Noooo, let him stay!» Richard looked at me pleadingly, then down at Sprocket who was resting his head in Richards's lap. «We’re mates now! And we can't concentrate anyway.»
«Okay... If you want him out of here, just find me, yeah? Or call me on the walkie-talkie.» They all nodded and waved me away. Sprocket remained happily by Richard's feet, enjoying having his chin scratched. I got back to work, and neither hear nor see anything of my dog or the three men for a good long while. When I returned to get him before the audience was let in, Sprocket had managed to sweet-talk his way onto the sofa. He was now slumbering between James and Richard, his head resting in James' lap while both men were petting him absent-mindedly. He looked like he's always been a part of the set. 

That evening, after the studio shoot was over and the audience had gone home, I was getting ready to go home too. I opened the back door to my Touran and opened the cage for Sprocket to jump in. Just as I was about to close it I hear my name being called across the parking lot. Turning around I spotted Richard heading toward me. Sprocket barked once, his tail banging against the cage, happy to see the kind man who is so loose-handed with his cuddles.
“Richard! Hi. Um... Listen, I'm really sorry that Sprocket barged in on your rehearsals today... I mean, I shouldn't have brought him to work, I just didn't have any alternative. And it's warm out, I couldn't leave him in the car. I should’ve kept him on a leash...” Richard just waved me down, shaking his head a little, obviously not bothered.
“No, no, don't worry about it, seriously. We really didn't mind, all three of us like dogs. So really, don't fret about it.” As he was talking he had resumed petting Sprocket, almost as if he did it automatically whenever a dog was nearby.
“Sure? Oh, okay... Good,” I mumbled.
“You should bring Sprocket up to my place someday?” He suggested out of the blue. “I have four dogs at home, they'd have fun playing with each other.” Then he turned to speak to Sprocket, scratching his ears. “You can run around in the fields all day, chase rabbits, and get mucky, wouldn't that be fun?” He crooned. My heart seemed to drop to about my knees. Did he really just invite me over to his place? Well, mostly my dog, but me too?
“Ssh, don't tell him things like that, he'll never stop nagging me to go now!” I hissed and Richard giggled. “But yeah, that sounds nice, maybe I'll do that.”
“Don't say that, don't say maybe, that’s a thing people say and then it never happens,” Richard pointed out.
“Okay, then. I will do that, I will bring Sprocket over someday,” I smiled, charmed by his persistence.
“Good. Speaking of dogs, I better get home to mine. Bye, Sprocket,” he said cheerfully and ruffled the dog's fur. “Bye, Ronja. Drive safe.”

Over the next six weeks, the four last studio bits of the season were recorded. My ten weeks worth of temping at the Top Gear studio was drawing to a close, and I was sad that it was. The job had been a welcome and much-needed break from working as a nurse, I had learned a lot and more importantly, had lots of fun. But I had known all along that the contract only lasted this long, and I had never been promised more work. It was incredible that I even got the job in the first place, seeing as I have very little in the way of relevant education or experience. During these weeks I bumped into Richard regularly, and we chatted about everyday things whenever we do. He didn't mention anything about me bringing Sprocket over to visit, and I was too shy to mention it. Having wrapped up the final studio shoot for the season I coiled up cables for the last time, half expecting that it will be the last day I ever saw Richard for the rest of my life, and that he'd forgotten all about his suggestion. Just as these rather depressing thoughts flitted through my mind, Richard's voice brought me back to reality.
“Ground control to Ronja!”
“Hm? Oh, hi. Sorry, I zoned out,” I mumbled, trying to hide a blush as I had just been thinking about him.
“Yes, you do that,” he said with a knowing little smile.
“Mm, I know.”
“Listen, I just wanted to ask if you're busy this weekend. If you're not, maybe you wanted to come up to my place, and bring Sprocket on a play date? The weather has been rubbish lately, but looks like it's gonna be sunny this weekend!” Richard suggested. I was so shocked by this sudden question that I answered before I could even think.
“Sure, that would be fun,” I blurted out, feeling the blush creep up my neck again. I answered that way too quickly and eagerly. “Well, I have a day shift on Friday... Would Saturday be all right?”
“Yeah, of course. I'm home all weekend, for once. It's just been a bit hectic lately,” he shrugged as if he was apologizing for not having asked sooner.
“Okay. Saturday, then,” I smiled. What was going on? Was this happening? My mind raced and I tried not to read too much into this.
“If you gave me your phone number I could just text you directions and... stuff,” he finished with feeble bravado, fishing his phone out of his pocket. As I read my phone number aloud he taps it into his phone. “Great, got it. So.. See you Saturday, then?” He raised an eyebrow at me, his eyes glinting and he smiled. Does he look excited?
“Yeah, sure, see you Saturday,” I stammered, still in a state of shock. “Um... Where do you live, by the way?”
“Cotswolds. Well, nearly. I used to live in Hereford, but I moved after the... divorce.” He made a little pause before saying that last word, as if saying it aloud takes some effort. “It'll take you about.. an hour and a half from here. Well, two if you're Captain Slow. But then again, I've been on the track with you and you're definitely not. Anyway, must dash,” he finished, looking a little stressed as he checks his wristwatch. He gave a little wave of farewell before hurrying away. “Saturday!” he called back over his shoulder, looking excited.
“Saturday!” I shouted back, unable to hold back a laugh.

Chapter Text

Pulling into a big, graveled front yard I slowed down, studying the big house which I ferventled hoped was the right one. I had followed Richard's directions as well as I could, but this was the countryside and all the roads looked the same. As the door of the house opened and a pack of dogs bounded out I felt a little more certain that I had come to the right place. The dogs headed straight for my car, and I barely had time to open the door before they bore down on me, greeting me eagerly as only dogs could. I squatted down, letting myself be sniffed and nudged and licked in the face.
«Hello you! You found it! Welcome!» Said an eager voice somewhere above me.
«Hello!» I replied, giggling a little as I was nearly knocked to the ground by a characteristically hyperactive English setter bodyslamming into me.
«Oi, Boot, careful!» Richard admonished. «She's a guest, try to act civilized?» He sighed to the pack in general.
«Are you going to introduce us?» I asked, scratching a border collie behind the ear.
«Of course! That's Crusoe,» Richard gestured to the dog I was petting. «The one that nearly ran you over was Boot. The Jack Russel is Captain, and then there's Teegee,» he finished, pointing to the labradoodle I remembered having seen on Top Gear.
«Hello, everyone,» I crooned, trying to pet all four dogs at once.
«Now, can I let your Sprocket out before he dies of excitement?» Richard suggested, making me aware of the fervent wailing and whimpering coming from inside my own car. Sprocket had seen and heard the pack of dogs from the confines of his crate and was going spare in his eagerness to greet them all.
«Yeah, of course, go on,» I said, straightening up when my legs was threatening to give out.
«Yes, yes, mate, hang in there, keep your fur on,» Richard said calmly as he opened the back door of my car and fumbled with the latch on the crate. His pack of dogs milled around behind him, having understood that they would get to meet whoever was making the racket. Sprocket yowled and shook at this point, and the minute Richard took a step back and opened the crate door he bounded out and landed in, or more like on the pack.
«Yeah, that's the way to introduce yourself, Sprocket. Classy as always,» I sighed exasperatedly, rolling my eyes at the silly dog, and Richard giggled. I watched as the dogs greeted each other, always a little nervous about how Sprocket would get along with other dogs. He was mostly used to spending time with just me and didn't get to socialize much with his own species. To my relief Sprocket behaved nicely and before long they were inviting him to play, bounding around the front yard.
«So... Fancy just taking them for a walk right away?» Richard suggested.
«Sure. Just let me change my shoes.»
«Yeah, me too, be right back.” He disappeared inside the house for a minute, and upon returning he pointed to the shoes I now had on. «Hiking boots! That's the spirit!» He exclaimed, gesturing to his own hiking boots. "The weather today is amazing, but it's been raining a lot lately, we're bound to find some mud somewhere. They sure will," he said, gesturing to the dogs with a hand filled with dog leads. «Probably won't need these, but just in case,» he shrugged. The late July sky was a vibrant shade of blue, not a cloud in sight. I got Sprocket's lead out of the car before locking it.
«Right-o, ready,» I smiled, stuffing the keys into a pocket. Richard led the way across his front yard and onto a path along the edge of a field. He called for his dogs, and when they realized we were going on a walk they bounded happily after us.
«You have a lovely place. Must be great to live out here with the dogs,» I remarked, looking back at Richard's house.
«Thank you. Yeah, I like it here, and the dogs do as well. I've only been here for six months or so, I'm still getting settled in, as it were...” I kept quiet, sensing somehow that he might have more to say. «I bought this place when I realized... that I wasn't going to be able to save my marriage. This place is great though, it's sort of.. between everything; London, Guildford, my old house. I could never live in a city, I'm a country bumpkin and always will be.»
«That makes two of us, then,» I admitted with a smile.
«Didn't you use to live in London?»
«Operative word being 'used to'. I loved living in London for a while, but as time went it just got more and more.. claustrophobic. There are people bloody everywhere in there, you know!"I complained, making Richard chuckle.
"Yeah, funny that!"
"Moving to Guildford was like... being able to breathe again. Probably even more so for Sprocket, he much prefers grass and dirt to tarmac and concrete. Poor dog, he was so sick of Hampstead Heath. Before moving to England, I grew up in the country.» At this Richard peered at me, looking a little surprised.
«Can I ask where you grew up?» Richard seemed a little hesitant to ask.
«Oh!» I realized I had never told him. «Norway, actually. But I moved here when I was 18, so I've been here for.. wow, nearly 14 years now.»
«Practically a local, then! You sound like one, at any rate. I wouldn't have guessed you grew up anywhere but England,” he said, still looking surprised, and I blushed a little at what I chose to take as a compliment.
“Thanks! I'm glad I've lost the 'Petter Solberg' accent,” I mumbled, and Richard chortled.
“Nope, definitely nothing 'Petter Solberg' about it” he smiled kindly. “But hang on, are all the women in Norway nurses? James' girlfriend is from Norway, and she's a nurse too!”
«What?? No way!" I peered skeptically at Richard, and he nodded. "She is? Huh, small world.» In the silence that followed we both watched the dogs who chased each other around the field, intoxicated by their freedom and all the space they had to roam around on. We both giggled as they sometimes fell over or crashed into each other.
«Listen, I hope you didn't feel like I badgered you into coming here,» Richard broke the silence, sounding a little awkward. «I realize I might've come on a bit strong and didn't leave you much choice.»
«What? No, no, of course you didn't!» I reassured him. Looking at Richard I could see a great deal of insecurity in him, which was a strange thing to see in a man who I was used to see acting bubbly and cocky. «I didn't have any plans this weekend, if I wasn't here I'd just be sitting at home being bored, being here is much better. Or going for walks with Sprocket on my own. Having company is a nice change! And Sprocket really needs some playmates, he needs to spend time with other dogs. Look, he's having the time of his life right now!»
«Good.» Richard seemed a little relieved. «I just... I'm not quite used to this yet. Empty house, spending time on my own, having no plans on weekends... I get restless if I sit still for too long, I just... needed some company,» he finished in an embarrassed mumble, fidgeting a little with his own hands.
«Well, I'll take it as a compliment that you wanted my company.” I gave him a kind smile which Richard returned. «I can imagine it takes some getting used to, being on your own again when you're used to always having someone around...» I mused.
«Yes, it does...” he sighed with feeling.
«That must be hard..." I said, giving him a look full of sympathy. To my own horror, I reached out and ran my hand down his arm in a comforting way. "I'm sorry, Richard." I can't imagine what it would be like to have been married, always having someone around and suddenly, they're not there anymore. To my surprise Richard's hand found mine and squeezed it for a moment in gratitude. How on earth did we get this familiar this fast?
«Thanks, Ronja... Yeah, I'm not gonna lie, it's rough,» Richard sighed, sounding like he wasn't sure he would ever get used to it. «And it's strange, it feels like... I got custody of the dogs, while Mindy got custody of most of our friends.»
«Well... To be honest, you probably got the better deal, there," I mumbled, and Richard let out a surprised laughter, nodding a little. "I generally like dogs a lot more than I like most people," I admitted.
"And yet you're a nurse," he observed dryly, making me chuckle.
«Yeah, all right. But dogs are just easier to relate to, they're open and honest, you always know where you stand with a dog.» Richard nodded his agreement, then he shot me a sideways glance.
«Look, I didn't ask you out here to complain to you about my divorce and whine how miserable I am. I'm sorry... I must sound a bit pathetic.»
«No, not pathetic, of course not. Just... sad,» I replied.
«I don't want to be sad, I'm bored with being sad and this is a depressing topic. And I barely know you! Let's talk about something else,» he waved. While he had talked I had kept half an eye on the dogs
«Sprocket NO!» I shouted suddenly, watching in horror at Sprocket who was bounding wildly around until he landed himself in a huge puddle of mud.
«Oh relax, they're all going to look like that in a minute,» Richard shrugged carelessly. The splash caused by Sprocket drew the other's attention, and they were soon investigating the same patch of mud, mostly by wading through it. Richard watched as his dogs got muddier and muddier with a carefree smile on his face. «We'll hose them when we get back. It hasn't been a proper walk unless they get really mucky.» We kept walking over fields and along dirt roads, through patches of forests and along small streams, managing to talk about more light-hearted subjects. Eventually, we sat down on an old stone fence, having a breather while the dogs explore the trees in the area. Closing my eyes I heaved a deep breath, enjoying the fresh air.
«God, I'm glad I moved out of London,» I mumbled, eyes still shut.
«Was there another reason that you did? Besides wanting to get out of the city, I mean. » Knowing he's poking more into my personal life he asked timidly.
«I needed a change of scenery. I'd been in London for nearly 11 years and realized I had gotten a little stuck, I had never intended to stay in one place for so long, so I wanted to just... do something else. Most of all I needed to get away from the hospital ward I was working on, it was just getting too... hard.»
«Why?»
«... That is another... very depressing topic, Richard.” Despite this warning, he just looked at me with an expression of honest interest. «All right, but it's a tragic story.» I sighed, squaring my shoulders a little. «I used to work in an oncology ward.»
«Oncol-- oh, cancer, right?»
«Yes, cancer patients. It was a pediatric oncology ward to boot, so kids with cancer." At this Richard made a face.
"Wow, I'm surprised you lasted 11 years," he muttered.
"I didn't, I lasted only three. Before that, I worked in A&Es mostly. Anyway, I had this patient, 8-year-old girl. Particularly aggressive type of blood cancer. I got too close. It was just her and the mum in the world, dad died when she was a baby. Mum had to work a lot, so I spent a lot of time with this kid, weeks and weeks with her in pain. I could make her laugh. Her mum didn't want to tell her she was dying. I didn't agree with that decision but was bound by patient confidentiality not to say anything. But the kid, she told me one night that she knew she was dying, and she was crying because it would make her mum sad that she died. Three weeks later she passed away, having pretended all the while that she never knew the truth. After she was gone, I was done with cancer patients. Especially kids." A long, thoughtful silence followed my story. I kept my mouth shut, letting Richard digest the story that had taken me months to process, something I was still working on.
«Wow... That makes my plucky divorce sound not so bad at all,» he admitted with a flinch. «Talk about putting things into perspective.»
«Losing someone you care deeply about is always hard, no matter how you lose them. And a divorce is still a major loss.» At this Richard just looked back at me, the sadness creeping back in his eyes. I realized I might have stomped onto very personal ground. «Listen, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get so... personal, you said earlier you didn't want to talk about it, sorry for bringing it back up.»
«No, no, don't worry about it, I as the one who brought it back up, really,» Richard waved me down. «I don't mind, I mean... I started digging around in your personal life. But you're still working as a nurse, though? In Guildford?» He asked, apparently wanting to swap to a less personal topic.
«Yeah, I am, but I'm working back in the A&E now.»
«That still sounds like a pretty tough job? I can imagine you get all sorts of things coming in...»
«Believe me, you actually can't imagine half the things we have coming in,» I snort. «I mean.. yes, it's still an intense job, but in a different way than working in oncology was. This is more action-filled, you have to think fast. But I like it, I rarely have to see a patient for more than half a day, so... there are a lot less emotions involved, you don't get to know your patients the same way. On the other hand, we rarely get to see the patients after they get sent on to various wards, so I often wonder what happens with them, especially major trauma victims.»
«I don't know how you do it. I mean, with the blood and the screaming and the.. bodily fluids...» Richard made a face of disgust as he tried to imagine the horrors I had to deal with.
«Actually, the blood and gore don't bother me much. What really gets to me are dislocated bits. You know, when someone comes in with their arm or their finger or their foot pointing in completely the wrong direction.»
«Okay, all right, enough of that, I get the picture!» Richard said loudly to make me stop describing it in any greater detail, obviously equally disgusted by the idea.
«But I really liked working in the studio, even if it was just for a short while. It was very nice being able to do something completely different for a minute.»
«You must be mad if you like working with us.»
«You say that like it's a bad thing? All the best people are,” I smirked, and Richard nodded his agreement.

We stayed out with the dogs for over three hours before we finally made it back to the house. Surrounded by five dogs covered head to tail in mud, I gave Richard a skeptical look.
«So, how are we going to clean these guys without ruining your entire, fancy house?» I challenged.
«Aah!» He said, raising a finger. «See, when I bought this house it had this huge laundry room behind the kitchen. I had heated, tiled flooring put in, and it's now the dogs' room.» While talking he rounded the corner of the house, me and the dogs trailing after him. «I also had a door put in, that way I can just hose the dogs off out here and shove them in there to dry off!» He finished his explanation with a wide grin and a flourish towards the door.
«Your dogs have their own room?» I asked incredulously, raising an eyebrow at him.
«Well, I have four!» He said defensively. Next to a door, there is a garden hose mounted on the wall, and taking it down he began rinsing the dogs off. Sprocket veered backward, not used to this kind of treatment. «You might stand back, this tends to be a wet mess.» And on cue Crusoe shook himself vigorously, scattering mud and water everywhere. I hastily took a few steps back and watched as the dogs let themselves be washed. Sprocket, upon seeing that all the other dogs accepted it, reluctantly let himself be rinsed off as well. When all five were relatively clean and had shaken the worst of the water off, Richard opened the door and ushered them inside. «Now. Cuppa?» he offered.
«Sound great.» I trailed after him to the front of the house again, and we discarded our mucky hiking boots on the front step before entering the house. «I'm soaked, I need to change. Just... go sit down, the kitchen is right through there,» he waved vaguely in the direction of a doorway, then disappeared up the stairs. I entered the kitchen but didn't have the audacity to just plonk myself down, so I ended up hovering by a kitchen counter, having a look around. The kitchen seemed to have been done up lately, as did what little else I had seen of the house. Everything was kept in a rustic, rural style, but still looked modern. It bore evidence of not having been properly lived in yet, it was still too clean and felt a bit empty. While standing there I could hear the dogs scrabbling on the other side of the door at the far end of the kitchen. Richard reappeared a few minutes later, having changed into jeans and t-shirt.
«Right. Let's feed the mutts, then have a cuppa, yeah?» He flicked on the kettle, then headed for the door where I had heard the dogs. Opening it revealed that it was actually two halves of a door, and Richard closed the lower half after he enters, the half-door now acting as a gate to keep the dogs from accessing the rest of the house.
«Hey, that's pretty nifty!» I observed, leaning against the door frame and looking into the room over the door. There were four crates with open doors, all filled with soft dog beds and various comforters and stuffed animals. Dog toys were scattered a bit here and there, and an entire plastic crate in a corner was filled with what looks like more chew toys. On the wall was a coathanger with a mess of different leads, harnesses, and a few canine raincoats. Along one short wall there was the food station, four sets of dog bowls lined up next to each other, all bearing the name of the dog it belongs to. Richard had utilized what I guessed was the old kitchen furnishing in this house and set up a few cupboards and a kitchen counter along one wall. Habitually he picked up the dog bowls, set them on the counter and out of the dog's reach, then filled them with various types of dog food.
«Your dogs really do have a room of their own,» I say with amazement. “... It's a bit bougie, though,” I added dryly, and Richard nodded in agreement as he laughed.
«I know, I know..! But it's just.. easier this way, they have a place to eat, a place to sleep, this is just... their place, they feel safe here and I don't have to share my bed with four shedding, flatulent, slobbering dogs with bad breath.» Richard pulled one of his characteristic faces and I couldn't help but laugh at him. I had seen that face so many times on the telly, but it felt very different when he aimed it at me.
«I know what you mean, I share a bed with one shedding, flatulent dog and that's more than enough! This is great though, I am kind of jealous.» Taking two bowls off the counter Richard held them high in the air while the dogs jumped and nudged him, evidently hungry after their long walk.
«Oi, behave. Sit!» He barked, but absolutely nothing happened so he gave up and nudged his way through the crowd of canines. I half expected them all to throw themselves at the first dog bowl that is set down, but to my amazement, they didn't. «Crusoe, here,» he said mildly, setting down the first bowl. «Captain, here you are. And don't try to snatch anything from Crusoe, I know you like them better but they make you sick!» He admonished as he made his way across the floor to pick up the two last bowls, which he set down for Boot and Teegee. «There's a strict order to that, or it would just be... mayhem,» he explaind. Sprocket stood in the middle of the floor, watching as the other four gobbled up their food. He then looked from me to Richard with a forlorn, sad expression, like we had both betrayed him. «Aaaw, mate, I haven't forgotten you!» Richard hastened over to the counter and filled a spare bowl, then offered it to Sprocket along with a scratch behind the ear. Sprocket gave him a grateful look before taking a nose-dive into the bowl. «Now go on, sit down,» Richard insisted as he re-entered the kitchen, closing the half-door behind himself. The kettle was long ready and he quickly and efficiently made two cups of tea.
«You've gone awfully quiet?» He prompted as he sat down opposite me by his huge, wooden kitchen table, plonking a cup in front of me.
«I'm sorry, I'm just... tired, I think. Not sure I've had this much fresh air in 12 years!» I defended myself with a laugh. «I love that feeling though, that feeling you get when you've been outdoors for hours, and you come in again. In the summer you might have a bit of a sunburn, and in the autumn or winter you're all chilly and rosy-cheeked, and you sit down with a warm drink and you get this fuzzy, warm feeling... I'm sorry, I'm talking bollocks,» I said with a blush, lifting the cup from the table to hide behind it.
«No, you're not. I completely understand what you mean. That's why we live in the country! Now, the dogs are fed, how about we get fed too? I probably have some stuff lying around we could make dinner out of. And if you don't trust my cooking we could always order in.” His teasing smile re-emerged.
«No, no, I trust you,» I nodded, returning the smile.
«.... wow,» he muttered, shocked at having my trust. I helped out making dinner, and before long we sat down with our plates of pasta with chicken and garlic bread. «Want a glass of wine?»
«Um... No thanks, I have to drive later, remember?» I declined politely.
«Oh yeah, right, fair point,» he noded as he sat down. «Next time you come over, you're welcome to stay over if you want. You know, it is a bit of a drive to make twice in a day, and I have spare rooms,» he said casually.
«Next time?» I raised an eyebrow at him, and he looked up from his food with an awkward expression.
«I meant... If... there is... a next time,» he jabbered, back-paddling a little.
«I'm joking, relax!» I chuckle. Realizing he'd been had, he smiled embarrassedly, closing his eyes for a moment before rallying.
«Because, if you don't come back, you won't get to come with me riding ATVs.” He pointed at me with a fork.
«You have ATVs?» I asked excitedly, and he just nodded sagely, mouth full of food. «I've always wanted to try driving those. But I never have. Which would mean you'd have to teach me,» I warned.
«Oh, sure, I don't mind doing that.»
«They operate just like a motorbike, yeah?» Again, Richard just nodded, busy chewing his food. «Are they manual or semi-automatic?»
«Manual.”
«Okay. I'll come ride ATVs with you, but only if you promise not to laugh at me the hundreds of times I'm going to stall the thing,» I demanded.
«You'll stall it two or three times max, then you'll have gotten the hang of it,» he said with a careless wave.
«You have too much faith in me.”
“Ditto – you let me cook you food.” We ate in silence for a while until my phone rudely interrupted the peace. From the ringtone I knew it is from the hospital, and I excused myself, got up and answered.
«And suddenly I have an early shift tomorrow,» I sighed as I hung up.
«At the hospital?» Richard turned in his chair to look up at me.
«Yeah. Bit of an emergency, they were very short on staff. And my contract is just on an on-call basis so at the moment I have to take every shift I can get. Guess I'll have to just finish dinner and start on the way home,» I apologized, returning to my seat.
«No, no, that's okay, people have to work,» he said, smiling mildly. Having finished dinner I offered to help clean up, but Richard protested, insisting that he would take care of it.
«Aaaw, Richard... Have a look at this,» I cooed when I looked into the dogs' room from over the closed half-door. All of them were asleep in their crates, curled up into little balls. Sprocket had miraculously managed to charm his way into Teegee's crate, and they were now sleeping soundly, cuddled up together as closely as they could get.
«Aaaaw,» Richard echoed, surveying the tranquil scene. «I think there's definitely something going on there,» he added in a conspiratorial hiss, gesturing to Teegee's crate.
«Looks like it,» I chuckled. «Aw, I hate to wake him up now.»
«Yeah, that is actually really mean, you know! Waking up him, tearing him out of his girlfriend's bed, stuffing him into a lonely crate in the back of a car, taking him home only so he can sleep next to you and your garlic breath.” Richard pulled a face of disgust. I narrowed my eyes, trying to come up with a funny comeback, but I had always been awful at that sort of thing.
«I'll.... I'll call you from the car when I've managed to come up with a snappy response!» I grumbled, poking his chest with a pointy finger, and he laughed loudly. Feeling guilty I gently prodded Sprocket awake. He clambered stiffly out of the crate, gave Teegee's nose a sniff and a boop, then looked at me with eyes brimming with sadness.
«Come on. You'll see her again, I promise,» I comforted him, scratching his ears.
«Look at him! You have to come back here now, just look at the poor bloke's face! He's heartbroken!» Richard pointed out dramatically.
«You're really not helping here, mate,» I sighed at Richard as I clipped Sprocket's lead on. Defeated, Sprocket slouched after me through the kitchen and out onto the doorstep where my mucky boots were standing. I shoved my feet into them and then looked up at Richard. “Thank you for inviting me,” I said a little shyly. “I've had a fun day, I didn't realize I missed spending time outdoors so much.”
“Thank you for coming,” Richard replied, equally shy, shoving his hands into his pockets and staring at his feet. “I hope I haven't moped and whined too much at you.”
“No, no, of course you haven't!” I assured him, and I meant it. I could tell that Richard is going through a tough time. It seemed like he wanted to get through it on his own, keep it to himself, but it was as if he was beginning to realize that he couldn't always do that. Squaring my shoulders I decided to be honest with him. “You're going through something awful, I know that, and it's only natural that you need to talk about it sometimes. I don't mind, Richard. Really. I get it. You and I haven't known each other for that long, and not to sound like a counselor but if you want to talk to me, then I'm more than happy to listen.” I gave him a reassuring smile.
“I... thanks, I appreciate that,” he said, looking shyly into my eyes for a second before looking away.
“All right, I best be going.” Fishing my car keys out of my jacket pocket I pressed the button for the central locks. “Thanks for dinner, too, by the way,” Richard called Sprocket to him and got down on one knee, scratching the dog vigorously.
“I'll see you soon, mate. I'll keep your girlfriend safe,” he giggled, then got up again.
“See you soon, yeah?” I asked, walking backward towards my car. Leaning against the door frame he nodded and smiled.
“Sure.” He stood there on his doorstep, watching until both Sprocket and I were buckled in.

Chapter Text

Only a few days passed before I found myself entering Richard's driveway again. Sprocket began howling with excitement as soon as he saw the house, obviously remembering that this was where his girlfriend and his fun mates lived. Our plan was to take the dogs out for a walk, then Richard was going to teach me how to drive an ATV before getting some take out. I had even agreed to stay over, because I didn't fancy making the drive twice in a day, and I didn't have work either. Trips like this soon became a normal thing in my life as I started spending more and more time with Richard. Sprocket loved being with his packs of dogs and his "girlfriend", and I enjoyed spending time with Richard. Being with him was for the most part a carefree existence filled with much fun and laughter and playing around. It was like suddenly having a new favourite playmate that you wanted to be with all the time because otherwise, you're just bored. This was a strange and unusual thought for me, I had always been perfectly happy in my own company and could spend days without seeing no one but Sprocket. But suddenly I couldn't, nothing was interesting and I'm just restless. Richard taught me to drive ATVs, or he took me for a ride on one of his many motorcycles, eventually teaching me to ride them on my own. After much persuasion. A few times we went mudding, a type of off-roading where the point was basically to get stuck in the muddiest hole you could find and winch your way out of it. At the end of that day we were so mucky we ended up hosing off each other outside the house like we'd usually do with the dogs, laughing and squealing like little kids while we did. Or we spended time in his garage where he taught me how to change the tires, air filter and oil on my car because I wanted to learn how and I didn't mind getting my hands dirty. We took the dogs out for long walks, and a few times we took Sprocket and Crusoe out to the training grounds belonging to a local agility club, we've been allowed to borrow it and have some fun training with the dogs. He rarely mentioned his divorce or how he felt about it anymore, it was as if he had decided that he wasn't going to talk about it, maybe in fear of being too depressing and whiny around me. Or maybe he just ignored it, tried to forget that it was happening. And I didn't want to poke my nose too much into it, when we spent time together the tone was always very light-hearted and I got the distinct sense that Richard wanted to keep it that way.

One morning I woke up in Richard's spare room to a gentle knock on the door.
«Ron?» The door opened a crack and Richard timidly peered in to check that I'm decent.
«Mm?»
«I'm just popping out for a minute, we're out of milk and I thought I'd get the papers. Want anything?»
«Curly wurlies,» I croaked.
«You've just woken up and your first thought is curly wurlies?»
«Don't judge me, Hammond,” I warned darkly.
«All right, fine. Curly wurlies it is,» he said with a little chuckle. «Be back in a bit. The dogs have been out already this morning, they're in their room having breakfast.» The door shut. Now that I was awake I realised I might as well get up, I'm awake and it was getting late. Heaving myself out of bed I pulled on my flannel pyjama bottoms and shoved my feet into a pair of fluffy slippers. I've spent so much time here lately this had become the standard mode of dressing in this house, especially in the mornings. I cared about how I looked around here in the beginning, but seeing how Richard would slouch around the house in his pyjama bottoms with his hair on backwards made me relax too. I shuffled into the bathroom, yawning widely, trying to wake myself up. While in the bathroom I contemplated starting on breakfast, but realised that without milk there was no point anyway until Richard came back. Reaching that conclusion I shuffled downstairs and into the living room, curled up in a big, squishy high-backed armchair and turned on the telly. The dogs, not confined to their own room, all came up to me in turn and greeted me good morning before going back to various sleeping spots on the floor or on top of each other. Much earlier than I had expected I heard a car approach, and the front door opening. Footsteps enter the house, and I heard them enter the kitchen. Getting out of my chair I headed for the kitchen as well.
«Jesus, Richard, did you take the Porsche and floor it all the way? You better not have forgotten my curly wurl--» I jabbered, but stop abruptly when I entered the kitchen and discovered not Richard, but a woman standing there. She's short, but slender, with slightly bushy blonde hair, clad in a trench coat and a pair of high-heeled, sexy boots. I immediately recognised her as Richard's ex-wife, and froze in my tracks. We stared at each other, she was just as shocked as I was at the sight of another woman in this particular kitchen. Rallying a little she eyed me up and down, from my bushy bed-head via my crumpled pyjama to my furry-slippered feet, taking her time in studying this dishevelled creature standing before her. Condescension, dislike and disbelief were fighting for dominance in her face. «Sorry, I thought it was Richard...» I mumbled feebly, then wondered to myself why I am the one apologizing. I had at least been invited to be here. Somehow, mentioning his name suddenly felt like the last thing I should have done.
«Aha,» she answered simply, her tone flat and cold. She looked like she was trying her best to restrain herself from bursting out with all the things she wanted to say, all the questions she had.
«I'm not sleeping with him.» The words were out of my mouth before I could even censor the thought in my own head. I screwed up my eyes, fighting the urge to smack myself very hard in the face.
«A-ha...» she repeated, even slower this time, her voice now filled with utter disbelief.
«I'll go away now.» I gestured wildly towards the kitchen doorway, turned on my heels and practically ran out of the room. I headed straight for the relative safety of 'my' guest bedroom, and closed the door behind me. Sitting down on the bed I wrapped the duvet around myself and sat absolutely still, listening intently for any angry, high-heeled footsteps that might decide to chase me down. I was thankful that I heard none. After a long silence I heard another car approaching, followed by the car door and then the front door slamming. At first I couldn't hear their conversation at all, but eventually, their voices rose and became angry. I caught little phrases like 'no right' and 'common courtesy' from Richard, and retorts like 'on the rebound' and 'that was fast' from her. Eventually, it sounded like he tells her to just leave. I heard the front door again, then a car speeding away. Absolute silence descended on the house. When Richard opened the door to the guest room a few minutes later he found me sitting on the bed, the duvet wrapped over my head and shoulders as a protective cape.
«You can come out now...» he said with a humourless, sad smile. I just shook my head slowly and then looked up at him with a horrified stare. Richard laughed once through his nose, then sat down on the edge of the bed.
«Did she say something? Was she mean to you?» He asked, sounding a little concerned.
“No, no, she didn't say anything, actually... It was more what I said to her, really.”
“...Which iiiis?” Richard prompted gently when I didn't continue.
“I was just so... surprised that she was there, and she kept staring at me in this mean way and I said... I...”
“You saaaaaid..?”
“I said... 'I'm not sleeping with him.'” Richard stared at me unblinkingly for a minute, then he screwed up his eyes and gave himself completely over to a fit of laughter. I chuckled half-heartedly along with him, seeing the hilarity of the situation but still feeling too embarrassed to laugh properly at it. «That is the single most awkward moment in my life,” I mumbled, staring into space with wide-eyed horror. Eventually, Richard's laughing fit subsided, and he patted my knee consolingly.
“It doesn't matter, she would've thought that we were sleeping together no matter what you had said or done,” he said, still chuckling a little.
“Is she cross with you?” I asked, daring to come out of my duvet shield, at least a little.
“Not as cross as I am with her,” he said, his smile quickly disappearing. “I don't like her just showing up here without warning and barging in like that. And not because I have anything to hide, like the fact that you are here. But I still don't think she has a right to just waltz in here.”
“Yeah, I must admit I found that a little... strange. I mean, if you had lived here together before I sort of could've understood it, because then this would've been her house too once, but...”
“No, she never lived here. But she thinks the fact that we were married once gives her the right to just march in here whenever she feels like it,” he grumbled.
“Why does she, though? I mean, what does she want?” I asked, then quickly change my mind. “I'm sorry, forget it, that is none of my business.”
“No no, it's okay,” he waved, then sighed heavily and rubbed his face a little tiredly. “Honestly I think she came for sex.” The frank answer took me by surprise, and not really knowing how to respond to that I went with trying to make a joke out of it.
“I bet you're really wishing I wasn't here right about now....” At this Richard chuckled again before turning serious.
“It's probably a good thing that you were, to be honest. If you hadn't been here I probably would have slept with her. It's... happened before. We were married for a long time, and sometimes when she gets lonely or misses me she turns up here dressed like that and... It's so easy to fall back into that, we're so familiar with each other, and it feels good then and there but then it just makes everything a million times worse after.” His openness and honesty took me a little by surprise. We had barely spoken about his divorce at all, and now all of these things came pouring out of him.
“Yeah, I can see how it would be easy to fall for the temptation, but it must make you feel like shit afterwards.”
“Pretty much,” he agreed a little sadly. “But sometimes I think with the wrong head first, like most blokes... Anyway, I'm glad she didn't say anything to you. She can be a little mean-spirited when she wants to,” he said, apologising for her.
“I was worried she was going to punch me in the face there for a second, that’s why I ran in here to hide. I mean, I'm not even shagging you and still, your ex scares the living daylights out of me.” Richard chuckled again.
“I told her not to come over unannounced anymore, and I think that upset her just as much as the fact that you were here. She hates that, she hates being told that she can't do something.”
“It might not be just that... Being in a relationship, you always have access to the other person, to some extent you even feel some sort of ownership of the other. And by telling her she can't just pop over whenever she fancies it you're closing the door on her, denying her access. You're not hers anymore, you're becoming independent again, and even though you've been separated for a while, maybe she thought she'd still have some sort of... control over you. I don't know, Richard, I don't know her at all, I'm just making uneducated guesses here.”
“But you might be right,” he nodded. “That just shows how different we are, though. I would never presume that I could just barge into her house these days, even if I did actually own and lived in that house for years and years. So I'm having a hard time understanding why she thinks she can barge into mine.”
“Maybe you have more respect for her than she has for you,” I said without even thinking, instantly regretting it.”I'm sorry, I don't mean to talk badly about her, as I said, I don't know her at all.”
“It's all right. I'm just.. sorry that happened to you,” he said, squaring his shoulders and changing his tone of voice, obviously closing the subject. “Ready to come out of there and have some breakfast? I'm starving!” I nodded at Richard and emerged from my duvet fortress.
“I can make eggy bread?” I offered, getting up from the bed. “As an apology for being a a bit of a twat to your ex-wife?”
“Eggy bread sounds grand. But only because you make good eggy bread, not because you need to apologise for anything, because you don't. You weren't a twat, she was,” he said firmly. I trailed after him downstairs and into the kitchen and we started on breakfast. Sitting down by the kitchen table a little later I rifled through the papers Richard had bought.
“Really? The Daily Mirror?!” I said, holding up the paper in an accusatory fashion.
“I'm not reading it for the great journalism!” He piped up. “Sometimes I just have to... keep up with what those bloody tabloids are writing. It has calmed down a lot, but when the news of the divorce got out they wrote so much crap, wild claims about why we were splitting up. Of course it would've been best not to read it, but part of me just had to know what sort of rumours they were spreading about me. And Mindy.”
“I guess you would have to. But couldn't you have someone else sift through this garbage for you? Like an agent or something?” I threw down the paper in mock disgust.
“I do, actually. But sometimes I just have to have a look for myself,” he admitted, mouth half-full of toast.
“That is rather self-destructive behaviour, Hammond,” I warned, pointing at him with a knife. A little silence followed in which a realisation hit me. “You know, this sort of thing is exactly what the tabloids would love to write about,” I said as I gestured to the air between us.
“What do you mean?”
“Just imagine what the tabloids would make of the fact that you're spending so much time with a slightly younger woman and her dog. And that she's even staying over! Can you imagine all the sordid speculations they would come up with? 'The Hamster is happy again' or something cheesy like that.” Richard laughed loudly, then nodded in agreement.
“You're absolutely right, they would write that without hesitating.” He paused for a moment, thinking. “What if they do write that someday?”
“Yeah, so, what if they do?” I shrugged carelessly, looking at him over my cup of tea. Richard kept looking at me, his expression a little worried. “Relax, Richard. I know what this is,” I said pointedly, putting the cup down and once again gesturing to the space between us. “And I honestly don't care what other people might think. And if they believe what the Daily Mirror writes they're bloody idiots anyway.”
“I just... want you to be prepared that they might write something involving you someday. I wish I could protect you from that, but... They're vicious, and I'm a recently divorced telly presenter... They'll probably spin it like you were the reason I got divorced or something. By spending time with me you risk ending up in the tabloids, and I understand if you don't want that. Becoming the centre of that much attention can be really intense.” He appeared to shrink a little as he talked, as if he thought that I really would stop spending time with him.
“Oh shut up,” I said, but not unkindly. “I know that by hanging out with you, I run the risk of winding up in the tabloids. You can't protect me from that, Richard, and frankly it’s not your responsibility. I'm not going to stop spending time with my mate just because I'm a girl and he happens to be a recently divorced man, and a bit famous, and someone the papers might possibly write about. I'm not going to let fucking Daily Mirror dictate my life.” While I talked Richards's worried expression slowly turned into a smile.
“All right, I see your point. Thanks, though,” he added, looking almost shy but grateful.

Chapter Text

My phone rang, and looking at the screen all it said was “caller ID hidden”. As a general rule, I rarely picked up if it was a number I did not recognize, and never if it was a hidden ID. But for some reason, on this day, I picked up.
“Hello?”
“Hello. Am I speaking to Ronja?” Said a voice on the other end, one I didn't immediately recognize.
“Er, yes... Who is this?” I frowned to myself, wondering who on earth it could be.
“I'm calling from the BBC, this is Andy Wilman,” the voice replied. His voice reminded me vaguely of someone, but I couldn't quite get a grasp on who it was. The name sounded familiar, too.
“Um... Oh, hello,” I answered evasively, not wanting to admit that I had no idea who I was talking to, apart from it being someone from the BBC. Naturally, he saw right through me, but replied in a wonderfully diplomatic way that saved me from any awkwardness.
“As you probably know I'm the producer on Top Gear, and I am contacting you because I wanted to see if you might be interested in a job offer.”
“... What? Really?” Was all I managed to say when I finally regained the use of my brain.
“Yes, really. You were on the production crew in the studio when we filmed the most recent season, were you not?”
“Yes, I did, I was a sort of... Useless assistant, of sorts...” I murmured, still feeling completely lost. Considering how inexperienced and junior I was, I couldn't fathom why he would call me with a job offer.
“The crew spoke highly of you, they said that despite not having much experience you were a quick study and eager. Plus they liked you, which frankly is the most important bit. Now, the reason I am calling is because I was also made aware of the fact that you normally work as a nurse. In an A&E?” This sharp turn in the conversation made my confusion complete.
“Er... Yes, yes I do, actually.”
“I realize this call must seem very strange to you. Let me try to explain. These days we're doing preparations for filming a new special episode. You know the kind?”
“The ones where they go to some very foreign country with three rubbish cars and have to drive very far?” I answered with a little smile.
“Exactly. These specials have in all honesty become rather huge expeditions over the years; they require a massive amount of organizing and planning. Everything about these shoots is always a little extreme; the locations, the climate, the cars... We try to be mindful of safety, but it's a big crew and we travel to some pretty remote and exotic places. Illness, small accidents, and injuries seem to be more or less inevitable on things like these. During a meeting the other day we were talking about this, and we realized that it might be a good idea to bring along a health care professional. And then someone mentioned your name, that you were a nurse. We already know that you are a good help and that as a nurse working where you do, you have experience with a lot of different injuries and illnesses, including emergencies. So therefore I wanted to ask if you would possibly consider coming with us on this shoot?”
“I... er... wow, I'm staggered,” I finally managed to stammer. “Are you sure you'd want me though, I mean... wouldn't for example an army medic or a doctor be better?”
“I'm not so sure about that, to be honest” he countered. “First of all, I sincerely hope we'll never experience anything so severe we'd need an army medic. What we need is someone who can see to it that everyone takes their malaria pills every morning and uses their bug spray and mosquito nets. We need someone who can rinse and bandage up a gash, and who might know what to do in an emergency until we can get to a hospital. We need someone whose job it will be to carry around the remedies for pain relief, upset stomachs, dehydration, severe sunburns and whatever else these lumbering idiots might suffer from. See what I mean?”
“Yes, of course I do, and I would agree that having a person like that along would be very useful. But there must be other people out there who are far more qualified for this sort of thing than me?” I argued, still feeling under-qualified for the job I was being offered.
“Maybe, but we’re on a quite short deadline here. And the crew likes you, you seem to be a good fit, which is a very important quality for any person we decided to take with us. These trips can be rather intense. And the presenters like you, too. I gather you and Hammond have become friends?” The way he asked was innocent enough, but it still made my cheeks blush. So they were talking about that around the office, were they?
“Yeah, we hang out a bit…” I mumbled vaguely.
“I think the fact that you are familiar with most of the crew and the presenters really are important, you know the people you have to deal with. We can't get anyone else in time, because we leave in a little over a month. I do realise that tropical diseases and insects probably aren’t your areas of expertise there though. But I know a nurse who has a diploma in tropical medicine, I can put you in contact with her so she can help you prepare if you want to,” Andy offered helpfully.
“But.. why not ask her to come along?” At this question, Andy gave a derisive snort.
“Well.. because she is James' girlfriend, to tell you the truth. If she came along James would be too busy being overprotective of her to actually do his job. I also happen to know she has a new job in a hospital she is very excited about so I think she's too busy.”
“Oh...” I mumbled, running out of arguments. Everything inside me was screaming that I should accept the job right away, but I couldn't quite get over the feeling of being under-qualified.
“Are you considering it?” He asked impatiently.
“Of course I am! I'd have to do a fair bit of research though, to be honest, I don't know that much about travel medicine. Emergency medicine, yes, at least on a nurse basis, but...” My mind was working furiously, trying to gauge if I am at all capable of this.
“Well, as I said, Emily will help you with that,” Andy was quick to reassure me. “I've already spoken to her and she'll gather some information for you. Naturally, we will provide you with funds to buy whatever supplies and medication we would need, and you will get paid for all the preparations you have to do before leaving as well as the trip itself. If you're accepting the job, you can come down to my office some day and we'll discuss the details. The BBC has already approved my suggestion of bringing you along so the contract is already written up. From what I know of nurse's wages this will be a temporary, but significant pay rise for you,” he finished. In reality, I had already made up my mind, there was no point in discussing it any further.
“Really, you don't have to sell this job offer to me any more than you already have. It isn't even about the money, I would've agreed to this even if you paid me in matches and paper clips.”
“Is that a yes, then?”
“Too bloody right it is!” A wide smile threatened to damage my cheeks, but I couldn't stop smiling. Whenever I was watching any of the Top Gear specials I couldn't help but feel very jealous, because they seemed to experience so many amazing things. Naturally, I was aware that the trips were far from easy, or stress-free, but considering all the wonderful things they got to see and experience it seemed to be very much worth it.
“Great! Fantastic, glad to have you on board,” Andy exclaimed.
“Uhm... I realize I should've asked this earlier, but where are we going, exactly?” I asked feebly, realizing it hadn't been mentioned.
“Eastern Africa! I'm sorry, I should have said. We'll start in Uganda, then most likely drive to Rwanda and to Tanzania. That's the plan anyway. Sound all right?”
“Sounds perfect!” We agreed to a meeting a few days later at the BBC to 'sort out the details' as Andy had put it. Then I would be given more detailed information about the plans for the trip, how many we would be on the crew, and so on. For once in my entire life, I was glad I didn't have a permanent position at the hospital. With all the planning and preparations I was suddenly facing I doubted I would have much time to do any 'regular' work at all before I leave, and then I would be gone for over three weeks for the actual filming. Still smiling like an idiot I called up the hospital and informed my boss of the situation. At first, he seemed annoyed, thoroughly disliking 'losing' an employee that was nearly always available when needed. To that, I replied that if I was so important he should offer me a permanent position. His tone completely changed when I explained to him why I was going to be unavailable for a while, apparently, my boss was a major fan of Top Gear and was suddenly very excited on my behalf. I couldn't help but wonder if Richard has had anything to do with this. Was he the one who had suggested this, perhaps? Or mentioned my name when the suggestion had come up? I considered calling him to ask, but decided not to. If he didn't know anything, I wanted to surprise him with it.

A couple of days later I found myself in London, a place I hadn't been to at all since I moved out to Guildford. After much stress and a few wrong turns, I finally found the BBC building where I met Andy for an early, but effective meeting in which he quickly ran through the contract with me and I signed the dotted lines. We were scheduled to leave in exactly a month, flying via Amsterdam to Nairobi, Kenya, and then over to Uganda. I'm shocked at the sheer amount of people when Andy handed me the list of the crew. I raised an eyebrow at him over the top of the list.
“What the hell do all these people even do?”
“Well, there's the three blithering idiots, me, you, the camera guys, sound techs, a gaffer, a few mechanics, a few production assistants, travel management...” Andy rambled, counting everyone off on his fingers.
“What, no hair and makeup?” I asked with a smirk.
“Have you seen the state of those three towards the end of a special? No stylist would come within ten feet of either of them with their armpits and scruffy beards... We actually burned their clothes after the Bolivia special.”
“Aah, I see your point,” I conceded.
“By the way, I talked to Emily just now, she can meet with you today if you have time for it.” For a moment I stared blankly at him, the name not ringing a bell.
“Emily?”
“James' girlfriend. The nurse I told you about?” He gently reminded me.
“Oh, yes, I'm with you now!” Suddenly I remembered what he was on about. “Sorry, I haven't met her so I haven't caught her name, to be honest.”
“Well, she said she'd be home all day and that she has put together some material for you, you were welcome to stop by her place, it's in Hammersmith.” Andy handed me a note with her address and her phone number. We sat around and chatted for a little while longer, mostly I got the feeling that Andy wanted to get to know me a little better, but eventually, he excused himself with having to get back to a boring, but rather a massive pile of work. Looking at the piles and piles of papers stacked around his office I believed him, bade him farewell and left his office. Trying to find my way out of the unfathomable maze that is the BBC building I sent an awkward text to this Emily-person, asking if she indeed had time to see me. Within a few minutes my phone pinged with a reply, letting me know that of course, she had time. I let her know I'm on my way, got in my car and punched in the address since Hammersmith was an area I wasn't familiar with. When I lived in London I spent my first years around Camden and Kentish town, before moving out to the Docklands, which was just cheaper, and on the complete opposite side of town to Hammersmith. And for as long as I'd lived in London I didn't have any need for a car, I used public transport everywhere. So driving around London wasn't something I was used to either. The GPS lead me out onto a few major roads leading me in the right direction, before taking me into a residential area right off the A4, eventually guiding me into one of the narrowest, sweetest little oneway streets I had ever seen. Inwardly I cursed my Touran, which suddenly seemed enormous now that I had to park it in this tiny street, but thankfully people were away at work still and there were a few free spots. Feeling oddly nervous I knocked on the door to the house with the right number on it. As soon as the door opened I'm sure I must have the wrong address. The small woman smiling at me was young, with shoulder-length, wavy blonde hair and pale blue eyes. But by the way she was looking at me, it seemed as if I am expected. Maybe she had a daughter? Or a cleaning lady?
“Ronja, I assume?” She asked in a flowing sort of voice, stretching out a hand.
“Oh, yes, that's me, I guess you must be.. um.. Emily?” I replied, shaking her hand timidly. I'm so uncertain of this being her that I almost braced for her to laugh at me or get offended.
“Yes, I am, how nice to meet you,” she answered politely. She has the same mild-mannered, gentle sort of air about her that James has. But she is so much younger than I had expected. How old is she, about my age? Maybe even younger. 'You go, James...' I thought to myself. Taking a step backward she opened the door wider, inviting me into the house. “Come in, please. Fancy a cup of tea?” The woman disappearsed into the kitchen and I trailed after her.
“Yes, please, that would be lovely.” She gestured to a kitchen chair, then opened the very colorful, retro SMEG fridge and takes out a jar of milk before flicking on the kettle.
“Andy told me you're trained as a nurse, but you work on Top Gear now?” She asked, leaning against the kitchen counter as she waited for the kettle to come to a boil. If I concentrated I could pick up a slight hint of a Norwegian accent.
“Well, I did work on Top Gear, I just helped around the studio when the latest seasons were filmed. It was the typical “I know a bloke who knows a bloke” scenario, some tech assistant suddenly broke his arm and couldn't do the series so I stepped in, I needed a break from nursing anyway,” I jabbered, sitting down by the table. “I'm working as a nurse again now, in Guildford, at the A&E.”
“I know what you mean about needing a break sometimes, I work at a neonatal ward and had this intense case this summer that made me want to drop everything and quit for a while.”
“Yeah, babies and children are always the worst,” I mumbled darkly.
“Agreed.” Having finished making tea Emily sat down opposite me by the kitchen table and handed me a steaming mug. “Apologies for how I look, I'm having an... indoor sort of day,” she apologized. “I hope you're not allergic to cats, by the way?”
“What? No, no, not at all, I have a dog myself, I love animals.”
“That's good. That over there is Fusker,” she said, pointing to the back of a black cat I hadn't even noticed. It was sitting in the kitchen windowsill staring out onto the street. “He's on the lookout for James, waiting for him to come home. It's his cat.” I had just been about to have a sip of tea when she mentioned this, and I nearly choked on it.
“This is James' house?” I asked incredulously, swallowing ungraciously. Andy could have warned me about that.
“Yes, it is. Well, I say it's his house, but he says it's our house,” she said with a loving smile. “I've only lived here for... wow, six months already. Time flies, I guess,” she shrugged. Straightening up in her chair she turns her attention to the pile of papers on the kitchen table. “Anyway. This is what I managed to rustle up after Andy called me a few days ago. I sorted out all the things that won't be relevant to you. There is an overview of the diseases and parasites a tourist is most likely to attract when in eastern Africa, it lists all the early symptoms, treatments, and severity. Other than that there is mostly information on the different types of anti-malaria medication and bug spray, some info on the oral cholera vaccine, various suggestion on what you would need in your kit for this sort of trip, equipment and medication you might need, various type of antibacterial wipes and gels...”
“Wow, this is great, this is exactly the sort of thing I need,” I sighed gratefully as I rifled through the papers.
“I'm not going to pretend like I'm not awfully jealous,” she admitted with a sad little smile. “It's... just not a good time for me, I started a new job about four months ago, I love it and it's full time, I'm already working too much. And as much as I miss James when he's away, I doubt that coming with them on a shoot would be a good solution. James and I just went to Bali, I much prefer traveling with him that way,” she added, a secretive, serene little smile flitting across her face.
“Bali? Yeah, that sounds... lovely,” I mumbled.
“Anyway, I hope this is enough information for you. I didn't bother including anything about the importance of hygiene and things like that, you are already a nurse so you know these things as well as I do. Just... Remind them to wash their hands a million times a day. No, don't remind them, order them, or they probably won't listen,” she added as an afterthought.
“Oh, I will, don't worry,” I chuckled, nodding my head. “Thank you so much, this is a big help.”
“Oh, not at all, I didn't mind. You will after all be the one who has to take care of James if anything happens to him, of course I'm going to make sure you're well prepared!” She said with a smile, then took a sip of her tea. I couldn't contain my curiosity about her any longer.
“When Andy told me about you, he said you were Norwegian? Hammond mentioned it too. I just wanted to ask, because I grew up in Norway too, and it was such a funny coincidence,” I added hurriedly.
“What? No way! You're from Norway?” She asked incredulously and louder than she had intended.
“Yes, I am,” I stammered when I had rallied a little. Stunned for words she stared at me for a while.
“That is just... absurd! I know that it's a small world, but still! You must've lived here for a long time, there is no way I would have guessed that you come from anywhere but London,” she said, surprise still written all over her.
“Wow, I thought that was something Hammond said just to be nice,” I muttered. “Wow, it's been... Nearly 14 years now. I came here when I was 18, started school, got my BA in nursing, found a job and I haven't really looked back. And you? How long have you been here? If you don't mind me asking,” I hastened to add, aware that I tended to ask questions that were too personal.
“I moved here last summer, my plan was to come here and take this diploma in Tropical Nursing, work a little on the side and eventually move back home. But I also met James that summer, eventually, we got together and.. well, here I am,” she said, throwing her arms out to the side. “I miss Norway sometimes though, I miss my family mostly. I don't miss the winters.”
“The only thing I miss about Norway is the mountains. Being in the mountains in the summer with the dog, above the altitude tree line... The colors, the wide-open spaces, the fresh air. I miss that. I can barely remember what the winters were like, except how utterly miserable they were.” At this, we snorted in unison. “I guess you're stuck here, now that you've found James and everything.”
“Yeah, I am, but I'm stuck on a very... voluntary basis. I would never ask James to move to Norway with me, his job is here and... I want to be where he is. By the sound of it, you have no plans to go back either?” She asked knowingly. She's a nurse, and like most nurses, she was well skilled in the art of picking up on the most subtle of nuances in people. I had no doubt she had picked up on the troubled relationship I have with Norway, and the life I once had there.
“No, not at all, I like this bloody country too much,” I smiled, trying to deflect any further inquiries into the subject. Emily took the hint and didn't ask any more questions. “Is it okay that I borrow these from you? I can make copies, and bring them back to you quickly if you need them,” I offered, picking up the stack of papers.
“Oh just keep them, bring them back to me when you get home from the trip. But only if you also promise to bring with you several thousand photos and a hundred funny stories!”
“No problem there, I love taking photos, I always come home with several full memory cards,” I assured her. “Again, thank you so much for this. I better get started on the way home, if I leave now I might get lucky and miss the afternoon rush. I have a restless dog waiting at home,” I excused myself.
“No need to thank me. If you have any questions or something, feel free to call me or send a text, I'm glad to help out. I have to admit I feel a little better knowing they're bringing someone like you along this time around, it just feels safer. The reason James and I even met at all was because he nearly crushed his stupid head in Syria. So I'm glad you're going with them,” she said with a sincere smile.
“Thank you. I'll try to look after them as best I can,” I promise. “But having worked a little with them already, I imagine it'll be like trying to herd cats.”

On my way home from London I decided to wait until the next time I see Richard to tell him my news, childish as I am. I wanted to see his face and hopefully see some excitement. Luckily I knew I would be seeing him tomorrow, as we had planned that I was going to his place for the weekend. He had been busy with work for the last couple of weeks, and so had I, our schedules had always overlapped and this was the longest we've gone without seeing each other since we started hanging out. Which is why it felt like a bit of a relief to be driving up the road to his house the next day. Sprocket began his customary, excited howling the moment he recognized his surroundings. Having parked the car I let Sprocket out. The door of the house opened and Richard let his dogs out so they could run around on the property on their own and exercise themselves. It's chilly outside so we quickly shuffled inside to get warm, and Richard habitually set about making tea. At this point, Richard was jabbering nonstop, like he always did, full of stories and jokes to tell, but I sensed that something was up with him anyway. I couldn't put my finger on it, but something was just a little off, he seemed a little preoccupied but he tries to hide it. He placed my mug in front of me before sitting down in his usual chair. The constant flow of words had stopped, and his facial expression changed.
«Listen, I have something to tell you...» His voice was uncharacteristically serious.
«Okay...?» I frowned, not completely unprepared for this announcement, but having no idea what might come next.
«Ron... I'm pregnant.» There was a moment of stunned silence. Unable to come up with any sort of sensible reply, I decided to just play along.
«Really? But... but we've been so careful!» I protested.
«Yes, I know, but still...,» he complained.
«Are you sure?» I asked in a worried tone.
«Yes, I'm sure!»
«But are you sure it's mine?»
«Yes, of course I am, I'm not a slut!» He barked indignantly, pretending his feelings was hurt.
«Ok, all right, sorry... How can you tell, though? Are you... late?» At this point Richard couldn't keep a straight face any longer, he screwed up his eyes and guffawed with laughter.
«I sincerely hope you realize that I am talking about Teegee,» he snorted when his laughter abates somewhat.
«Well, I was very much hoping that it was,» I giggled.
«Yes, I'm sure, I took her to the vet. She started eating less and her nipples started... you know...,” he mumbled, gesturing vaguely to his own chest, the grown man visibly blushing when trying to talk about swollen dog nipples. “Anyway, I suspected what was up. All my dogs have been... ahem, removed of their manhood, so I suspect Sprocket might be the culprit, he's the only other male dog she's been around lately.»
«Oh, Richard. I'm... sorry, I haven't even considered that it could happen. I mean, it's been obvious to both of us that Sprocket and Teegee have been... ahem, going steady as it were, for quite a while now. Probably since the day they met, to be honest. But I thought they'd wait a little longer before they decided to start a family. Apparently, I haven't taught Sprocket enough about responsibility and making smart choices...» At this, Richard chuckled again.
«Don't worry about it. Honestly, I haven't even registered that she's been in heat. But Sprocket did, the scoundrel! Shall we agree to just share the blame? Or better yet, just blame it on the dogs?”
“Agreed,” I nodded.
“Anyway, it's all good though, she's not too old to have puppies and they're both healthy Labradoodles, so I imagine it won't be too hard to find owners for them,” he shrugged, ever the positive thinker.
«Ooh, Richard! We're having puppies!” I squealed, imagining the fluffy little bundles we'd have in a few months' time.
“I know! I'm kind of excited too!” He admitted, smiling happily.
“I'll help out with everything, I swear. Having puppies can be a lot of work.”
“Thanks, much appreciated!” A little silence fell in which we both had a sip of our tea.
“You know, Richard... I also have some news to tell you,” I admitted, already feeling the urge to smile but trying to hide it. His face went ashen and his eyes widened.
“Are you having puppies too?” He asked in a quiet hiss, and I couldn't help but laugh.
“God no, not at all, neither human nor canine ones. The news is that I've um... been offered a job.”
“A job? At the hospital? Have they finally offered you something on a more permanent basis?” He asked, stirring absent-mindedly in his mug.
“No, it's not the hospital. I've been asked to.. um... come with you guys, actually. To Eastern Africa.” I finished the sentence quickly, wanting to get it out and get it over with. All of a sudden I felt nervous, worried that he might react negatively to this news for some reason.
“What? On the special episode shoot? With Top Gear?” He asked, his face showing sheer surprise.
“Er... yeah,” I admitted, squirming a little under his gaze. “Andy called me. Apparently, they've realized it might be good to have a nurse on the crew, there's been a few small accidents and someone is bound to get sick on travels like that.”
“Oh, so you'd be there as a nurse?” Richards's confusion seemed to lessen somewhat.
“Yeah, I'd be the sort of... Top Gear Top Health person. I'd be there to patch everyone up, treat whatever ails them, and make sure no one gets malaria.” A wide grin spread across Richard's face.
“But this is great! You're coming with me to Africa! I'm so excited, it'll be so much fun!” He exclaimed eagerly. Then his face suddenly went blank. “Please tell me you took the damn job, right?”
“Yes, I did, actually. And I'm glad you're excited, I was worried you wouldn't be,” I admitted with relief.
“Why on earth wouldn't I be?” Richard frowned, looking puzzled.
“I don't know, to be honest. I just was.”
“Oh shut up, we met on Top Gear! Of course I'm excited you're coming with us!”
“So you knew nothing about this?” I asked suspiciously.
“What, me? No, nothing. Why should I?” He answered with what seems to be genuine bafflement.
“Well, when Andy asked me to come, I wondered if maybe... it was your idea to bring a nurse along? Or, if you had been the one to suggest my name? I mean, it just seems strange that they suddenly decided to get a nurse, and to ask me.” I studied him intently.
“I had nothing to do with this, Ron.” Richard raised his hands, showing his palms in a gesture of innocence. “I wasn't even at that meeting, I didn't know they'd decided to bring a nurse along. But it's a good idea and one I fully support. And it's even better when they decide to take my best mate!” He smiled widely. Out of all the things he said, the words 'best mate' were the only ones that really stuck. The fact that he called me that surprised me, I would have imagined that the only people he would call best mates were probably Jeremy and James. And maybe his ex-wife when he was still married to her.
“Aaw, thanks, Richard,” I mumbled awkwardly, fiddling with my cup of tea. A few dog barks interrupt the moment, the pack had apparently decided they've had enough exercise and want to come inside. Richard jumped up from his chair and headed to the front door to let them inside.
“So, are you excited about coming?” He asked as he re-enters the kitchen.
“Of course I am! I've never been to Africa, but I've always wanted to. I can't wait! I know it won't be a holiday exactly, it's work and it can sometimes be pretty... exhausting and rough, but I'm even looking forward to those bits. Is that weird?”
“No, it isn't weird. But you might change your mind when you're in the middle of it,” he said with a knowing smirk. “

Chapter Text

“Right, hello. I'm Ronja, as some of you might know.” I cleared my throat, my voice was already threatening to give out. Damn it, why must my hands shake so much? “I helped out in the studio on the last season of Top Gear. But I am also a trained nurse, I've been so for 11 years and spent about 7 or 8 of those working A&E's, in London mostly and now in Guildford, so I've seen my fair share of the absurd and awful. And that is why I am coming along on this shoot to Eastern Africa as yer sort of Top Gear... Health.. person..! Ambitious, but rubbish, as all the rest of you.” I announced with mock pride in my voice. and to my surprise and relief, the audience actually laughed. “Now, my main goal for the trip is that you all survive it, basically - I'm not really that ambitious either, let's face it.” Another wave of giggles rippled through the audience. “To ensure your survival I am going to try and see to it that none of you gets malaria, cholera, zika virus or any other exotic diseases because we all know those can make you feel a bit under the weather, as it were. This means I am going to make sure you all take your malaria pills each morning and wash your hands about fifteen times a day. But if you do end up with a bad sunburn, the trots, or a fever I will be carrying remedies to help ease that sort of thing. Other than that I'll also be on hand to have a look at whatever nicks, cuts, bruises and stings you might get, but nine times out of ten I will most likely just point and laugh, maybe offer you a plaster. Whatever other ailments you might have; genital warts, halitosis, erectile dysfunction, voices in your head telling you to kill Jeremy – I'd appreciate it if you saw your regular physician about those, because I am thoroughly not interested. All right?” This was met with a mixture of nods, laughter, and appreciative mumbling.
“I always have voices in my head that are telling me to kill Jeremy..” James mumbled audibly.
“Maybe don't bring your machete this time?” I suggested at James, and he chuckled. I let my eyes flick quickly over to the corner where Richard was sitting, Jeremy and Jezza on either side of him. Richard gave me a wide, encouraging smile and a nod as if to say 'go on, you're doing fine. “Okay, moving on. For malaria protection there are two types, there's Lariam which is taken once a week, and Malarone which you have to take daily. I have, however, decided that we're all going to take Malarone, just because there are significantly fewer nasty side effects with these, even if it means a lot more work for me who has to make sure you all take them every day. The substance in Lariam can trigger anxiety, paranoia, depression, hallucinations, and full-blown psychosis, and I think we have more than enough latent insanity in this group already.” More laughter from the crew. “I am sending one pill of Malarone with all of you today, you have to take that the day before we leave. I'll send each and every one of you a text to remind you to take it, because it isn't in my job description to trust you at all. The rest of the malaria medication will be my responsibility because I don't want to hear the words 'ops, forgot my malaria pills on the kitchen counter' when we're somewhere in Uganda.”
“She's awfully strict. I think I like her,” Jezza announced with badly hidden excitement. I decided to ignore him.
“Today I am also going to give all of you a cholera vaccination. This is an oral vaccine..” Here I paused to wait for the predictable giggling to subside. “.. which means that you can drink it, no pesky needles involved. It's even raspberry flavored. Any questions so far?” Scattered shaking of heads and mumbling among the audience. “Good. Lastly, I just want to say that I can't wait to go, and I'm very grateful that I was asked to come along. But even though my job will be to sort of look after you, that doesn't mean that you are exempt from the responsibility of taking care of yourselves. Do not come complaining to me about severe sunburns if you think you're too much of a man to use sunscreen on the bloody Equator. Right, let's start on these cholera vaccines, shall we?” Relieved that the task of introducing myself and my new 'job' to the crew was over, I set about handing out vaccines and malaria pills, crossing everyone off the lists as I went. While I had been doing research and preparing for the trip, I realized that I should meet the entire crew before we set off, to introduce myself, give some information and administer the cholera vaccine. The entire crew plus presenters were scheduled to have their last briefing about the trip about a week before we were leaving, and Andy had said I was welcome to do and say what I needed at the end of it. I had been dreading it for weeks despite the fact that I knew quite a few of them already. Now that it was over, I felt like a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders.

There was a knock on my open hotel door, and I half expected it to be one of the crew members telling me to get a move on. To my surprise it was Hammond.
“Hey, I was wondering,” he said, hovering in the doorway. “Today is just a transport day, no filming or anything. Wanna catch a ride in my car?”
“What? In the Subaru?” I asked. So far this trip I had only been in one of the crew trucks, mostly whiling away my time just staring out the window at the exotic, gorgeous African landscape.
“Yeah. It might be bumpier than any of the crew cars, but-” he began, thinking I need persuading.
“Yeah, sure,” I smiled, cutting him off. We'd been in Africa for 4 or 5 days, and I had barely talked to Richard outside of our crew gathering in the mornings or evenings, or food breaks. He was at work, and frankly so was I, and I was trying to be mindful of that. But I was missing him. So a day in a car with him, being just mates again, sounded very tempting. I picked up my big huge North Face duffle bag, and my smaller backpack, and trailed after Richard through the hotel corridors, down to reception, and out front. There was mild chaos outside, as 35 people were trying to organize themselves, their luggage, and tonnes of equipment and spare parts into three cheap estate cars and a raft of Land Cruisers. Richard headed for his blue Subaru, I registered in the corner of my eye that he tore open the passenger seat and started eagerly throwing stuff into the back, clearing a space for me. I went on the search for one of the cars that were used for just transporting luggage and equipment, and threw my big bag into it. Hitching the smaller backpack onto my back I walked past the fleet of cars. Stevie, one of the road mechanics, stuck his head out of the window as I passed his car. I'd wound up in a car with him on our first day of driving through Uganda by happenstance, and we immediately clicked and became friends. He was very easy to be around, an easygoing and down-to-earth mechanic with a wicked sense of humor.
“Hey, Ronja, where do you think you're going?” He asked.
“Got my own ride today, thanks!” I raised a hand in the air and waved without turning to look at him. This way I could avoid any further explanation, which might lead to questions, jeers and me blushing.
“What...?” He sounded confused. I walked past more cars, eventually reaching the three estate cars at the head of the queue. Richard, James, and Jeremy were standing around chatting.
“Jeremy, please tell me you've put some sunscreen on that poor bloody scalp of yours?” I asked. Jeremy's car had a sunroof, and yesterday he'd driven with it open. Which had resulted in the top of his head now being one massive sunburn.
“Noooo,” he said in a monotonous drone as if the answer was a given: of course he hadn't. With a sigh, I dropped my backpack down to the ground and rummaged through it for sunblock. Pulling the big bottle of sunscreen out I held it demonstratively up to Jeremy, looking stern.
“Noooo!” He repeated, but now his tone is completely different, high-pitched and whining like a three-year-old. He even stomped the ground like one.
“Bend. Over.” I growled, waving the bottle, which caused James to honk with laughter.
“Not a sentence I'd ever expect you to say to Jeremy, Ron,” Richard observed. To my surprise, Jeremy actually bent his knees and bowed his neck, enabling me to reach his head. “Believe me, Jezza, if you weren't on camera on this shoot I never would do this for you. But if I don't, your entire head is going to turn into a water blister from sunburn, and no one would want to see that. And it's gonna be so sore, Jeremy,” I added, far more kindly, gently applying thick sunblock to the top of his head. Still having sunscreen left on my hands I run them over the back of Jeremy's neck a few times too, mostly trying to get the stuff off my hands, but thinking that part could also get a rest from the harsh African sun.
“You're too nice to him!” Richard moaned. Straightening up, Jeremy gave me a little smile, showing he was actually grateful after all. I could understand Jeremy's reluctance, sunblock was a horrid, sticky mess.
“Thank you,” he mumbled quietly so no one would hear it. Fingers still sticky with sunblock I turned to Hammond and ran my hands over the back of his neck too, four or five times just for good measure, and maybe perhaps a little slower than I had to. “There? Better?” I asked, cocking my head at Richard in a teasing manner as if I was trying to appease a pouting child. Richard looked at me quickly then averted his eyes, looking a little embarrassed.
“Right, we all ready?” Jeremy said, resuming the role of some sort of a leader again, looking around and down the row of cars. Several thumbs up shot out of car windows.
“Ready? Got water?” Richard asked me, and I nodded, hitching my backpack up on my shoulder.
“She's with you?” James looked at Richard with raised eyebrows.
“Yep, today she is,” he said like it was an everyday occurrence, tearing open the door of his car.
“Hey, where's my female car companion?” James requested.
“At home in London, mate!” Hammond shouted, sticking his head out of the car window. Getting into that Subaru was like getting into a preheated oven, the sensation was claustrophobic and almost painful.
“Please tell me the air-con works?” I pleaded. “If it isn't, then I'm sorry to say that you are going to have a very lonely, boring drive, I might actually go catch a ride with James instead,” I threatened.
“Yes it is, but don't tell anyone,” he hissed under his breath, looking at me conspiratorially.
“Good. Then I'm staying,” I nodded, buckling myself in. Richard started the car and the convoy began to move slowly. At first, there was absolute silence in the car, like we had forgotten in just 5 days how to be mates and talk to each other. We were driving through bloody Uganda, we should have millions of things to talk about.
“I'm surprised I managed to pry you away from Stevie for a while,” Richard said, finally breaking the silence. He gave me a cheeky, teasing look, but there was something not quite heartfelt about it.
“What, Stevie?” I laughed, raising my eyebrows at him. “Pry me away, Richard? Really?”
“Yeah, you two have seemed very friendly since we got here,” Richard observed, carefully avoiding my gaze by suddenly being very preoccupied with having his eyes on the road.
“Oh come off it,” I huffed, thinking Richard was exaggerating things a lot. Also, this was a ridiculous conversation to have, we'd been in Uganda for just five days. And it was a conversation I had never expected, Richard was acting possessive, like he felt someone was stealing his best friend. “Yeah, so I have a friend in this crew that isn't you. Steve's a nice bloke, funny. He's a friend, but you're my best mate,” I assured him, patting his knee a few times. “And he's getting married, Hammond, so relax.”
“Relax? I am relaxed,” he sniffed airily. “Also, congratulations to Stevie,” he added, sounding happier. And somehow, with that cleared out of the way, our conversations flowed as easily as they had always done. I assumed the role of DJ Impreza, treating and torturing Hammond to my playlists in equal measure.
“Ronja, what the hell is this soppy... mushy... love-dovey nonsense?!” Richard complained about 45 seconds into a song.
“I like it,” I sniffed, trying to look offended.
“You?! You had Nirvana on a minute ago!” He argued.
“So? I like this, too!”
“Pfff,” he scoffed, thoroughly not believing me.
“Oh come on, Hammond, don't be such a grumpy grump! Just GIVE IN to the soppy, lovey-dovey, fuzzy, mushy feelings!” I urged dramatically, waving my arms about.
“Will not.”
“You will. Eventually,” I persisted.
“Shan't!” He shouted. “What is this, anyway?” he added a moment later, a frown of disgust on his face.
“The song is called 'Stay'”.
“Yes, I have pretty much guessed that already, that's basically the entire chorus,” he sighed.
“And the band, they're called 'Hurts'”.
“Oh do they really, now there's a surprise,” he moaned, rolling his eyes in exasperation. Just to be a pain in the arse that day I kept playing the song every now and then, just when enough time has passed for Richard to have forgotten about it. By about the sixth time, after about 8 or 9 hours on the grueling roads, under a scorching sun, it seems like I had finally managed to break Richard. Nearing the end of the song there's a quiet bit right before the crescendo of the final chorus. Suddenly, without warning, Richard joined in. I pointed at him as if I was saying 'aha, I knew it!', bouncing in my seat, squealing loudly and laughing, before joining in the singing as well.
“That never happened,” Richard said the moment the song faded out, holding up a warning finger, and I just laughed, rolling my eyes at him.
“Fine, whatever, grumpypants.” We had about another hour and a half of driving left ahead of us until we reached our designated base camp. Tents and sleeping bags tonight, no comfy hotel. But I didn't mind, I was looking forward to sitting around the fire, having beers, and talking bollocks with everyone. From communications on the walkies and on the phones I knew Richard and I were the last ones to come in, having been bogged down by various little car niggles on the way. Easy fixes, but they had just slowed us down.
“Ron, I think that's the camp,” Richard said, pointing over a field. The sun was setting, and all I could see in the distance are dark square silhouettes of what I assumed were all the cars scattered across it and a bonfire. Nearing the camp, I put my finger on my phone, looking excitedly over at Richard.
“Come on, Hamster. ONE more time!” I said loudly, and he already knew what was going to happen. I turned on the song again, then rolled down the window on the Subaru.
“Fine, fuck it!” Richard agreed, also rolling down his window, giving in. We were both absolutely knackered from a hard day on the road, the heat, the dust, all the unscheduled stops, and car troubles. I was worn out and probably dehydrated enough to feel half drunk and giddy, which was what I'm guessing Hammond was feeling too, and the reason for him joining in my insanity. We weren't close enough for the others to hear the music really, but they had probably spotted the headlights. Richard hadn't quite picked up on all the lyrics yet, but was doing better than I would have thought. Singing along loudly and dramatically, we moved about in our seats, acting like we were drunk in a karaoke bar, each waving an arm out the window. We must have looked absolutely mad, driving across the savanna in a beat-up, dusty old Subaru, the sun setting behind us, two idiots inside it waving their hands and singing along loudly to the soppiest of synth-pop power-ballads. But from inside the car, it was a little magical. Then and there we were just happy, having fun, laughing with each other, mates having fun on the road with not a care in the world. And the African savanna during sunset is just about the best place to have one of those moments. Richard drove slower and slower, the song not quite over yet. Every single one of the crew members was staring at us, some of them already laughing hard, shaking their heads. Others just looked at us in horror, as if they were truly afraid we had lost our minds to sunstroke. The car came to a stop right next to the circle of crew members in camp chairs just as the song stops. And to my surprise, the majority of the crew erupted into impromptu applause.
“What the fuck are you two listening to? Have you lost your minds?” Jeremy bellowed.
“Ronja controls the music, I have no say in it,” Richard said defensively, but he was still smiling, giddy from being silly with me.
“You know the words, Hammond. I heard it,” James observed darkly, not buying it.
“Do not!” Richard protested, unbuckling his seatbelt and clambering out of the car, a little stiffly after a whole day of driving. I clambered after him, also feeling the effects of 10-11 hours on African roads, mostly made of dirt. Richard shut the door to the Subaru behind him and leaned back against it, and I made my way around the car and stood next to him, also leaning against the car. “Anyway, do you guys have any idea what it's like driving around all day with DJ Schizophrenic in charge of my stereo? It's like being in the loony bin!” Richard whined. “Her music goes from incredibly sad and depressing, to downright scarily angry and aggressive. Then the next one is suddenly the soppiest, saddest lovesong in the world, before she suddenly turns on something so bright and bouncy toddlers would dance to it.”
“I don't have that much of a split-personality music-wise, do I?” I frowned, looking over at him, not really having thought about it before. At this Richard just closed his eyes at me for a second, rubbing his temple and sighing heavily. Then he snatched my phone out of my hand, then reached in through the open car window to turn on the ignition so the Bluetooth radio would work.
“Do you guys want to know which song she played earlier, right before that one you all heard?” Richard asked the crew in general, holding up my phone. The crew nodded, looking curious now. I was racking my brain, trying to remember what he could be on about. My phone was unlocked and Spotify was already open. Quickly Richard shuffled through the open playlist, and I wondered if he even knew what he was looking for. Finally, he tapped the screen determinedly, and weird backward guitar noises blare out of the Subaru. I immediately knew which song it was, and did privately have to concede that yes, maybe my taste in music could be a little... varied.
“What the hell is that racket?” James shouted over the weird sounds, clapping his hands over his ears, but was rudely interrupted by one massive guitar riff followed by a noisy grunge rock song starting up. Unable to stop myself I start nodding along to the heavy drum rhythm, mouthing the lyrics, and drumming along with my hands. Richard turned down the volume somewhat, but he still had to shout to be heard over it.
“Want to know what this song is called?” He bellowed, and the crew nods.
“It's called QUIET!” At this everyone started laughing, and I felt myself actually start to blush.
“All right, all right!” I shouted, snatching my phone back from Richard and turning the volume down even more, but not quite. “Fine, so I'm a bit bipolar.”
“According to that song you're a teenager in a manky flannel shirt with anger management issues and greasy hair dyed bright purple,” Richard argued.
“I think I have a picture of me age 16 where I'd tick all those boxes, actually,” I laughed. At this Richard guffawed loudly with expectant glee.
“Ooh, the next time I'm at your place I'm gonna tie you to a chair and find that!” He promised. “And then!” He suddenly continues, having had a thought. “And then she suddenly starts singing in a completely different language, and it freaks me out! I only remember she's Norwegian about once a fortnight, and suddenly there are words and sounds coming out of her I've never heard before!”
“I know what that's like!” James piped up. “It's uncanny! It's like they change personality!” At this topic I had a flashback to one late night Richard had spent an hour quizzing me on the Norwegian words for every car part he could think of, and I smiled to myself at the memory.
“Yes, exactly,” Richard agreed. “Anyway, you can't blame me for having gone slightly balmy, I've spent 11 uncomfortable hours in a warm sweatbox with.. what did you name yourself? DJ Impreza?”
“Considering changing it to DJ Schizophrenic now..” I mused, and the crew laughed.
“Oh, what was the other one you played today called?” Richard said, pointing at me, trying to remember. “Fuck the world, was it? By... Turbo-something?” At this, I laughed, and the crew around the bonfire also snickered again.
“Turbonegro! Yeah, you're right,” I nodded, grinning at him, deciding to just own my weirdness in front of him and everyone else. “Do you know, they have other good songs! Like 'Bad Mongo'. Oh, and 'I got erection!'” At the last song title, James snorted into his can and spluttered beer everywhere.
“Do they really...” Richard said weakly, rubbing his temples again.
“Wanna know which album it was on?” I persisted.
“Go on,” he sighed, crossing his arms across his chest, bracing himself for the answer.
“ASS COBRA!” I announced loudly. At this the whole crew bursts out into fits of hysterics.
“God, what must it look like inside that head of yours,” James mumbled, still choking a little on his beer, looking horrified at the prospect.
“It's pretty crowded in here, James,” I chuckled.
“Do they really have a song called 'I got erection'?” Jezza asks despite himself, wrinkling his nose at the unseemly song title.
“Oh no, don't, Jeremy!” Richard whined. “She's gonna play it now!” Holding up my finger as if to ask 'give me a second', I scrolled on my phone and turned it on, turning up the volume, letting the lyrics speak for themselves. “Every time I walk down the street... Erection.”
“Yes all right, thank you, enough of that!” Richard shouted in a complaining whine, reaching in and turning off the ignition, cutting power to the stereo.
“Oh shut up, it's not all horrible. I do play quite a lot of Tom Waits, don't I?” I smiled sweetly at him.
“Yes, you do, thank god. And that's the only reason you've been allowed to stay in my car all day.”
“That and my wonderful, charming, hilarious personality?” I proffered.
“Nope. Just Tom Waits.”

Chapter Text

A few days later I was lying on a blanket on the ground, staring mesmerized at the radiant, African sunset over Lake Edward, somewhere in Queen Elizabeth National Park, Uganda. Most of the crew were gathered around a huge bonfire, but I've moved away from the group, hiding behind James' car. I've moved far enough to not be disturbed by the lights from the bonfire or the noise of the crew - I needed a moment to myself. The sun had almost set, and I was lying on a blanket watching the remnants of it. I was having what I can only refer to as a 'Disney-moment'. The skies were so much bigger in Africa than anywhere else I had ever been, absolutely massive and majestic. This far from any major city or settlement, without any light pollution, the starry sky was nothing short of magical, five times as many stars were visible out here than I had ever seen before. Coming here had been exhausting – during the day I was constantly wet with sweat, and a few times I'd been so hot I genuinely thought I was going to die. And at night the sweat dried into a fine crust of salt mixed with the dust from the red earth. The roads were an absolute nightmare as well. But nevertheless, being here was a dream fulfilled, and I had absolutely fallen in love with the country. I had pictured dry, savannah-like landscapes, but instead I had been met with a country overflowing with lush, green vegetation and red earth thanks to lake Victoria and the Nile. It had breathtaking views of green hills, fresh fruit to die for, and happy, welcoming, inquisitive people. It was as far away from the monochrome everyday life of England as imaginable, and I was in love with it.
“Ron?” Richard's voice pulled me out of my reverie, it came closer as he searched for me. “Ron!”
“I'm here,” I answered quietly, and sat up a little. It was getting dark, and it couldn't be easy to see me here on the ground, hidden between two parked cars.
“Ron, you okay?” he asked as he approached me, sounding a little concerned.
“Hm? Oh yeah, I'm absolutely fine,” I waved, looking at him over my shoulder.
“I noticed you were gone, I just... I'm sorry. Want me to leave you alone?” He asked gently, pointing in the direction he had come from, towards the noises of the group.
“No, no, you don't have to go,” I shook my head at him and gave him a little smile, then turned back to the sunset. I had wanted to get away from the boisterous group for a moment, but not necessarily away from Richard. Only a sliver of gold was visible over the horizon now, and the skies above had turned to a dark blue, the stars starting to appear. Richard pottered over and sat down next to me on the blanket.
“Sure you're okay?” He persisted, nudging me lightly with an elbow.
“Will you shut up for a moment and look at what is going on around you?” I said with a serene smile, looking upwards. “Look at that.” Billions upon billions of stars were becoming visible in the night skies above us. I sank back down onto the blanket, using a jacket as a pillow, and just stared at the wonder above me. There was a moment of silence.
“Wow.” He breatheed. He sank down onto the blanket next to me, staring unblinkingly at the amazing view overhead. After a long, serene silence I cleared my throat.
“You see, Richard, sometimes you just have to... Take a moment to fully appreciate where you are. Coming to Africa has been a dream of mine ever since I... Since I saw Lion King as a kid, probably, and now I'm here. I'm actually here. And I might never get to see skies like that ever again. So don't worry, I'm okay, Richard. I'm very okay.”
“... wow...” he repeated, still hypnotized by the night skies. After another long silence, he pointed. “What is that?” Following the line of his finger, I eventually saw what he was pointing at – a glowing little dot hovering over the bushes not far from us.
“Fireflies!” I gasped, grinning even wider.
“Those really exist down here?” He frowned.
“Yes!” More and more of them pop up, glowing with a greenish-yellow light as they hover over the bushes. “Aw, look, they're pretty,” I crooned. "All of this is... perfect."
“... The only thing missing now is a cheeky baboon with a stick that hops down from a tree to recite riddles of wisdom..” Richard mumbled, obviously having seen The Lion King too, and I laughed loudly.
"No, the cheeky baboon is lying right next to me. He's just missing the stick and the riddles of wisdom," I mumbled dryly. Richard giggled his goofy laugh and nudged me in the side with an elbow again. Another long silence falls between us.
"What are you thinking about?" I asked.
"I'm trying to figure out... If I'm the baboon, what does that make you? The meerkat, the warthog or that snooty bird?" At this I burst out laughing.
“Oh, so the pretty lion princess wasn't an option?” I said, pretending to be offended.
“Not when you make me the baboon, no,” he mumbled back, sounding equally offended.
"How many times have you seen the Lion King, precisely?" I teased.
"Sometimes the in-flight movie selection is really boring, okay!”

Later that night I was in my tent, trying to find sleep. The camp has gradually grown quiet, and a few snores here and there was all that can be heard now. As the only female to come along on this particular shoot I had a tent all to myself. In an effort to make everyone relatively comfortable, we had all been equipped with these rather decadent camp cots to sleep on, instead of thin and hard sleeping pads. With a frustrated huff, I shifted on the cot, trying desperately to find a comfortable position.
“Pssst. Ron. You awake?” Richard's voice was barely audible through the tent fabric. There was a definite edge of distress to it.
“Mhm... What?” I answered in a hushed, but annoyed whisper. The presenters had all been told to sleep in their cars, as they all had station wagons which had been fitted with places to sleep in the back. When the zip on my tent opens a little I turned on the little LED camper light to see what was going on, as the tent was pitch black.
“There's something in my car and it's squeaking at me and its sounds massive, like the size of Jezza's head and I can't sleep, can I please please sleep in your tent?” His voice was a high-pitched squeak of a plea, and he stared at me with begging, wide eyes. I almost had to bite my lip in an effort not to laugh at him, but he seemeds so genuinely panicked I didn't have the heart to mock him.
“All right, go on,” I sighed.
“I love you,” he sighed and hurriedly opened the tent zip to get inside as quickly as possible, away from the horrors in his car. Having relied on the fact that I would say yes, Richard already had his pillow and blanket with him. “I can sleep on the floor, it's okay,” he said, throwing his pillow down on the tent floor. The tent is set on hard dirt and wouldn't make for a comfortable night's sleep.
“Oh just get in here, will you? If you can,” I grumbled, but not unkindly. He stared at me with a skeptical frown but threw his pillow on the cot when he decided that he'd rather give it a try rather than stay on the hard ground. Gingerly, as if worried we'll both fall out at any second, Richard climbed onto the cot behind me, the cot was narrow and would only fit the both of us if we laid on our sides. I scooted over to the very edge to give him as much room as I could. I felt his chest against my back and his breath against the back of my neck as he came to rest behind me. I did my best to ignore my quickening heart rate.
“I... think I have to do this or you'll fall out.” His arm closed around my waist, holding me tight, preventing me from toppling over the edge of the cot.
“Just... don't breathe or sneeze and we'll be fine,” I answered, trying to sound unphased, patting his hand in the darkness of the tent. "This is going to look so very suspicious if anyone opens that tent flap," I added.
"We're in separate sleeping bags, how suspicious can it be. And you saved me from certain death. That's not suspicious, that's heroic," Richard insisted. I couldn't help but snort. “Thanks, Ron. I might actually get some sleep, now,” he mumbled, his voice already more relaxed. I couldn't help myself from putting my hand over his and my heart skipped several beats when he interlaced his fingers with mine as if he'd done that a million times before. The sound of Richard's breathing, the feel of his body close to mine, his warmth and the weight of his arm around me, all felt comforting, despite the fact that we were both crammed together on a cot that wasn't even a meter wide.

The sound of people shouting woke me up. It must still be in the very early moments of dawn, the sun hadn't risen yet and the light inside the tent had gone from pitch black to a greyish blue. A cacophony of different voices chattered around us.
"Hammond? Richard!"
"What's the hell is going on?”
“Richard isn't in his car, it's empty.”
“What's up?”
“Richard's gone.”
“Oh, he's probably just off for a piss.”
“Hammond, where are you mate?”
“Richaaaaard!” Miraculously Richard was still sleeping soundly behind me.
“Richard!” I hissed. He sighed and grunted, and I had to nudge him with my elbow to try and coax life into him. “Richard! Wake up!”
“What?” He grumbled.
“The entire crew is up looking for you, they think you've been eaten by a lion during the night. Maybe you should say something before they launch a search party?” I suggested in a hissing whisper, not really wanting to be heard talking to him. Looking over my shoulder I saw that Richard had opened his eyes slightly. For a moment he listened intently to everyone shouting his name, then he drew a breath and shouted back.
“Oi! People! Will you stop that bloody racket!” All the voices around us stopped talking, and those who didn't get shushed by the others. “I' here, I'm fine and I haven't been eaten by a hippopotamus!” Richard continued. “Now shut the hell up, it's too bloody early.” The deafening silence outside was soon replaced by hushed murmurs.
“Was that Richard?”
“Where is he?”
“I don't know.”
“I think it came from Ronja's tent.”
“He's in Ronja's tent?”
“Ooooh.”
“Dirty bugger.” At the sound of the first cat-call whistle, my patience snapped.
“Everyone shut up! I suggest that you do not anger the one person in this crew who carries both heavy sedatives and suture kits! The next one of you who is stupid enough to whistle better watch his tea very carefully, because I will slip drugs into it and personally sew your mouth shut.” Absolute silence followed this threat, then everyone hurriedly busied themselves with either going back to sleep or starting on breakfast.
“And that is exactly why you are my best mate,” Richard hummed happily. I nearly toppled out of the cot when he planted a lingering kiss on the back of my neck.
“Go back to sleep,” I mumbled, my face glowing red. Richard did, his arm eventually getting heavier where it was draped over me as he fell asleep again. I try to find sleep again as well, but quickly realized that I couldn't, now that everyone else knows Richard was in here with me I just couldn't relax. And that kiss had definitely woken me up. As slowly and carefully as possible I tried to inch myself free from his grasp.
“What are you doing?” He muttered, not even bothering to open his eyes, gripping me a little tighter.
“Getting up. Ssh, go back to sleep.”
“But it got cold... And lonely...” He winced childishly, pulling his blanket further up his chest, already half asleep again. Suddenly I wanted to crawl back into the cot, but I couldn't now.
"Here, you big baby," I sighed, shaking my head at him as I wrapped my own blanket around him, tucking him in like a baby and running my hand over his hair a few times.
"Mmmm, you're the best," he mumbled blissfully. I shoved on my shoes, grabbed my jacket and scrambled out of the tent. Most people seemed to be awake by now, milling around the fire waiting for the water for their tea to boil. I shuffled away from them, not quite ready for the mocking and torture just yet, and sat down on the bonnet of a car to light up a cigarette.
“Morning.” Jeremy's voice was barely recognizable, still hoarse and heavy with sleep. He leaned against the car I'm sitting on and also sparks up. I had never seen a man who could look as tired and scruffy in the morning as this man. I mean, everyone looked a little disheveled in the first twenty minutes of being awake, but Jezza always looked like a complete disaster area.
“Morning, Jez,” I answered in a neutral tone.
“So, about you and Hammond...” Before he was able to utter another word I moan loudly.
“Please, Jeremy, don't even start, please? I still carry that screwdriver,” I added as a mild threat, really not in the mood for his antics.
“No, I wasn't, I mean, I didn't mean to um.. ” he spluttered, the facial expression one I had never seen on him before. There was no teasing glint in his eyes, no evil smirk on his lips.
“Jeremy... Richard and I are just friends, okay? Despite what everyone might be whispering and gossiping about right now. He just slept in my tent because there was some huge bug or something in his car that was making funny noises at him, you know about his hatred for insects,” I explained.
“I didn't come over here to make fun of you,” Jeremy replied in such an honest, serious way that my mouth fell slightly open. “I just... I've known Richard for a long time, and he... doesn't have his head on straight these days. He.. isn't quite himself, he hasn't been since his marriage blew up in his face. He really wasn't prepared for that, he didn't see it coming even when a lot of us others did.”
“O.. kay...?” I mumbled slowly, trying to figure out where this might be headed.
“He's.. confused, and lost, and vulnerable, even though he tries to act like he's just fine, but he isn't, he isn't thinking clearly and you know how impulsive he can be, he can do such stupid things sometimes...”
“Jeremy,” I cut in sharply, trying to stop his incoherent rambling. “What are you even trying to say?” Jeremy looked at me and sighed heavily, his massive shoulders sagging.
“I don't even know, to be honest,” he admitted. “I just... worry about him.”
“Worry about him how? Are you worried that I'll hurt him?” I asked a little defensively.
“No. Well yes. Maybe.” He squirmed under my stare. “But honestly I'm more worried that he will end up hurting you. He's grown very... attached to you, and he absolutely loves spending time with you." Words like these seemed utterly alien when coming from Jeremy's mouth, but he was still standing here saying them to me all the same.
“But we're just friends, Jeremy. Good friends, sure, but that's all there is. And I don't expect anything from him, I know he's a mess. I'm just taking care of my best mate, just the same way you are.”
“But you have.. lady-bits,” he argued feebly, this 6 foot 5-inch man reduced to an eight-year-old.
“And hence I can't be his mate?” I frowned, struggling to understand the argument. Jezza cracked a smile at his own immaturity.
“Technically you should be able to, but this is Richard we're talking about...”
“You know, that man has seen me at 7 in the morning walking our dogs with a massive hangover, wearing a pajama with cats on it, bright red wellies, last night's make-up, and a bedhead that you wouldn't even believe. Any chance of him ever being romantically interested in me pretty much evaporated forever that morning.” Jeremy graced me with his raspy laugh. “Jeremy, I get it. The last thing I ever want to do in this world is to hurt him, he's broken enough as it is. And I won't let him hurt me either, I can take care of myself.”
“I suspect you can,” he admitted, tossing his fag end on the ground and treading on it. “Did he really run off into your tent just because of a bug?” There it was, that evil, mocking grin.
“Yes. He was terrified, said it reminded him of you, it had your teeth.”

I had known that going to Africa was going to be a huge culture shock, but it was nothing compared to the culture shock of coming back home. That became evident before I even re-entered England. Traveling down from Amsterdam to Kenya, and then on to Uganda, I remember looking at Entebbe Airport with a mixture of excitement and foreboding. It's not easy to put my finger on it, but looking at that airport I felt like I was really leaving the world I knew behind, and entering an area of the world characterized by poverty, corruption, and a dash of chaos. It was something about the poor, cheap lighting, the absence of that overwhelming amount of ads, and commercialism that normally meets you at an airport. Not to mention the strange smells. Driving out of Entebbe Airport the first thing I saw was two Muslims on their knees, praying to Mekka on their rolled-out mats in the middle of a grassy roundabout. Definitely a different world. But having driven through three African countries, through absolute nothing and through the smallest, most poverty-ridden cities you could imagine, everything had changed. The airport that had seemed so small and dingy, so dark and so strange to me that it was almost scary, now really felt like coming back to Civilisation. With a big C. In just over a week, my view of the world had completely changed. In Uganda, an African man had approached Andy, whom he perceptively had recognised as the leader of our group. And without much in the way of presentation or small talk he had asked if Andy would give me to him for the purpose of marriage, for the amount of oh.. say, about a hundred cows? I was the only woman in the group, and therefore I must be theirs to own and sell as they wished, the African had deduced. And I was very much an exotic item for him, with my pale skin, my light green eyes and my soft, brown hair. Andy politely declined, but afterwards the incident made for much mocking hilarity on my account. The threat hung over me for the rest of the trip: 'watch it or I'll sell you for a couple of cows'. Just the fact that we white people had actual hair on our arms seemed utterly baffling for the hordes of inquisitive African children that always surrounded us whenever we were in any sort of settlement. They were everywhere, inspecting our equipment and greeting and teasing these strange, white people.
“Why do they keep stroking my arms?” James asked over the heads of the chattering children, he looked utterly bewildered and extremely put upon, never the biggest fan of human contact.
“Because you are the most hairy baboon of us all, May. We have hairy arms. Look at theirs. Have you ever seen an adult African with hairy arms?” I was quite proud of myself for having sussed this one out. James stared at his own arms, then at the arms of the children, fascinated horror and enlightenment in his eyes.
Coming back to England, I felt paralysed by a feeling of apathy. All this consumerism. All this waste. We have access to all these... things – food, safety, warmth, art, culture, music. We have everything, and yet we are so.. jaded. Maybe that's just the reason why we are – we have too much. We're cold, boring and uninviting. Not everyone, but the vast majority is. When you leave your apartment to shop at Sainsburys, you know exactly what will happen from the moment you leave your own hallway until the moment you are back. Things had seemed so much more exciting in Africa, you would never know what could happen on a simple, innocent trip to the grocery store. The power would cut out, a goat would wander randomly between a few aisles and coming back out you would be offered a hundred cows to marry someone. That very rarely happened anywhere in England. Yes, eastern Africa had been full of the things I had expected to see: worn-out clothes, poorly constructed mud huts, lack of food and an even bigger lack of education. But never in my life had I seen such vibrant, inquisitive and joyful children. And those faces always stuck with me. All of these things marked each and every one of us who went on that trip together. “You weren't there, man. You don't know”.

Chapter Text

When I came back to England, it was very late November. I spent the entire first week or so wearing five layers of clothing, including woolly thermals, hats, scarves and mittens. I was constantly cold, I even slept in thermal underwear. Aside from feeling cold, I also felt rather disgruntled. I was tired of having a job that was only on an “on call” basis. It meant that I could never plan anything because suddenly I could be called up with a request to work the next day or three, and I couldn't afford to say no to shifts. My boss at the A&E in Guildford had tried to get me a more permanent position, but when there were none to give, there wasn't much he could do. I could sense that a bout of job-searching was in my very near future, and I hated the idea of starting that again, writing CVs and doing interviews. I got even more disheartened when I realized that there really wasn't much on offer in the Guildford area, which also meant I might have to move on top of everything. I considered applying for jobs in London again, but part of me really didn't want to go back there, at least not yet. In desperation, I started searching for jobs in Oxford, Swindon, and Milton Keys, anywhere that was big enough to hold a hospital and at a suitable distance from London. 'And closer to Richard' a voice in the back of my head whispers knowingly. I tried to ignore that voice. One day as I am on my computer, searching for jobs here and there, my phone rang.
“Ronja, could I ask you a favor? I've been invited to this party in London, and I'd have to be away for like a day. The puppies could be born any day now and Kristin's husband is sick so I can't ask her to watch them. Could you come over here and babysit the dogs? I hate asking, but...”
“No no, it's fine, of course I'll do it.” I was just as worried and excited about the puppies as Richard was, so I immediately said yes.
“I mean, Teegee will probably sort everything on her own anyway, but just in case something happens...”
“Richard, I said it's okay! I don't have any plans anyway. And frankly, going to a party would probably do you some good,” I added. This was the first time since I started spending time with Richard that he had mentioned doing anything more social than going over to his mum's for tea or spending time with me. Getting out of the house and going to a party is probably exactly what he needed.

I arrived at his house just as Richard threw a little overnight bag into his car. He looked great in a new, grey suit and crisp, white shirt. Climbing out of my car I had to concentrate not to stare a hole through him. Hurriedly, Richard informed me that he'd taken the dogs for a long walk, that the number for a vet he knows was on the kitchen counter in case something happened, and that a pizza for me would arrive at his door in about thirty minutes. He gave me a lingering hug and a kiss on the cheek, thanking me once again for watching the dogs, and got into his car. The smell of his aftershave lingered in my senses, along with the sensation of his lips against my cheek, and I had to shake my head in an effort to clear it. Entering the house, closely followed by Sprocket, I was greeted by Richard's pack. Teegee brought up the rear, lumbering heavily over the floor with her huge belly. I recieved my pizza and settled down with some wine and the telly. Eventually, I gave up on the TV, turned on some music and decided to read a book instead. As I opened it I wondered how Richard was doing, if he was enjoying himself. With a sigh I opened the book, needing to get Richard off my mind, his constant presence in my thoughts was beginning to annoying me. I became so caught up in my book that I was shocked when I noticed that it was half past midnight and I had read for hours on end. Sensing the beginnings of a headache from my reading marathon, I closed the book, thinking it was time I get to bed. With a sigh I got out of the chair and roused the dogs, chasing them outside for a last wee before bed. I put them to bed in their room, then led Teegee upstairs to the guest room I was staying in, where her puppy crate was, and she lies down with a grunt. As I was back downstairs in the kitchen filling a glass of water, the sound of car tires on gravel got my attention. I could see headlights flickering past the window. Listening intently I heard a car door slam, then footsteps. Scanning the room I searched for anything that could be used as a weapon, my eyes landing on a knife. Who the hell could it be at half-past midnight? Please, don't be the ex-wife again, please. Standing in the middle of the kitchen I stared out into the hallway and at the front door. I flinched when the doorknob rattles. Then the door burst open and a disheveled-looking Richard appeared. He shut the door clumsily behind him, despite trying to be quiet. Swaying a little on the spot he wrestled his jacket off and threw it unceremoniously on one of the hangers on the wall, then kicked his shoes off. Taking a few steps forwards he suddenly noticed me.
“Ronja! You're still up?”
“Bloody hell, Richard. I could have murdered you with this!” I shook the knife at him, not really angry. “You all right?”
“Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. 'Mfine,” he waved and shuffled into the living room.
“Who drove you here at this hour?” I frowned, trailing after him. Genuinely hoping he hadn't, because he was not in any state to drive.
“Taxi!”
“From London?!”
“Yeah,” he shrugged simply as if the matter wasn't even worth discussing. Bloody hell, wonder how much that cost him. His glassy eyes and inability to stand completely still informed me that he'd had enough to drink to be in for a bad hangover in the morning.
“Sit down, I'll be right back.” By barely nudging his shoulders he lost balance and slumped down on the sofa. Returning a few minutes later, I handed him a glass of Berocca and a few paracetamol.
“What is this?” He eyed it suspiciously.
“Just shut up and drink it, you'll thank me in the morning.” Knowing better than to argue he accepted the glass and the tablets.
“Any puppies yet?” He slurred, setting the glass down clumsily with a clunk.
“No, not yet. Can't be long, though, Teegee hasn't moved all night, just sleeping.”
“Aw, poor thing,” he said, pulling a drunken yet sympathetic face.
“You must've left the party pretty early?” I asked, concerned with why he was here and not still at the party, or at his flat in London.
“Yeah, I just wanted to.. get home.”
“Why?”
“I wasn't enjoying myself,” he said evasively, shrugging casually like it wasn't a big matter.
“You do know that you have a flat in London, right?”
“Didn't want to go there.” His voice was almost sullen as he mumbles this.
“Boring party?” I pushed, knowing there must be more to this than that he just hadn't enjoyed himself.
“No, I don't think it was, really, I just... Felt uncomfortable, I wanted to get out of there...” His elbows were on his knees and he stared down at his folded hands. Something was obviously going on, so I kept quiet, hoping that he would start talking on his own. After a long silence in which he fidgeted with his own hands, he did, his vhoice now sounding sad. “You know... For a long time, there have been two things in my life that have been constant, that I've always been sure of; my career and my marriage. I don't know how to do this anymore, Ronja. I don't know how to... go out and be sociable, have fun and... not be married. I've been married for 12 years, I don't even remember what it was like to go out and chat women up and all that stuff, I don't even remember how to flirt!” He complained.
“Well, that's a load of bollocks, and you know it. You know perfectly well how to flirt, you've done plenty of that even while you were married,” I couldn't help but smirk. I didn't mean to be unkind, it was just a fact, a fact that Richard himself knew very well; he's the flirty type and always had been.
“Well, all right,” he conceded. “But I don't remember how to do that and not be married while doing it! It feels strange, going out and not wearing a wedding ring. I've had women come up to me all night, trying to flirt with me and all I wanted was to leave. I should be happy, I'm free and open and can do what I want. But I'm not. I just miss being married. Or maybe the idea of being married, I think. I'm so bloody... lost, I don't even know who I am anymore,” he sighed. For a while, I sat there in silence, a little shocked that Richard had just poured his heart out to me like that.
“Richard, you can go out of an evening and not have to flirt with women – it's not a requirement. If women come up and flirt with you, then all right, flirt back, or … just don't. In any case, flirting doesn't mean that you have to start a relationship with her, or even take her home. Because... If it makes you feel this bad, then maybe it's too soon for flirting and all of that?” I spoke mildly. “This takes time, Richard. You're allowed to be sad and lost and all the rest of it. Eventually, you'll be able to go out and have fun again.”
“Ugh, I don't want to see other people ever again, I just want to... sit here and be miserable,” he complained childishly.
“Do I count as people? Because if I do, you would've been better off in your empty London apartment, you know,” I pointed out quietly. Richard looked up at me, looking a little apologetic.
“I didn't want to be alone either, really... You're the only one I seem to be able to be around these days and actually enjoy myself,” he said. I sighed, thinking furiously, desperately wanting to cheer him up, or at least comfort him in some way. Eventually, I got up and walk over to the stereo. My iPad was still connected to it and I scrolled through it until I found a slow song, “Electric” by Madrugada. Returning to the sofa I stretched out a hand towards Richard.
“Come on, dance with me.” It was more a command than a request. “No flirting, no romance or anything complicated, just... dance with your mate?” After a moment's hesitation, Richard took my hand and I nearly heaved him up from the sofa. He trailed after me a little unsteadily onto the open floor of the living room. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, but I stayed at a respectful distance, not wanting to invade too much of his personal space. In return Richard snaked his arms around my waist and, to my surprise, he sighed heavily, leaned into me, and buried his face against my shoulder. Searching for a place to hide, it seemed like. He smelled of alcohol mixed with his aftershave. I ran my hand over his back and through his hair, suddenly finding myself a lot closer to him than I would have thought. “I'm sorry you didn't have fun at the party.”
“S'not your fault,” he mumbled.
“Sort of, I said that going would do you good, and it clearly didn't. I'm sorry you're upset.” We kept revolving on the spot while I ran my hand over his back, wanting to provide some comfort but not sure if I was making it better or worse. As if to answer my question, Richard made a sound somewhere between a sob and a chuckle and suddenly let go of me, taking a step back. His hands clenched up, so does his jaw, and his eyes went oddly blank. When he spoke he looked everywhere but at me.
“Listen, I'm really drunk, Ron. I have to go to bed. Nite.” And with that, he turned on his heels and disappeared. Okay, so I made it worse. Great job. For a while I stood rooted to the spot, staring in the direction he went, trying to decide what to do. Then I decided that I was not going to let him do this. He'd come back to his house, instead of going to hide away alone in his flat. Turning off the music I slowly retraced Richard's steps. The door to his bedroom wasn't fully closed, and even from the hallway, I heard the choked sobs he was trying to silence. Pushing the door open gently I peered inside, Richard was sprawled on the bed on his stomach, still fully clothed. His face was buried into a pillow that he was clutching, trying not to make a sound. Heart hammering in my chest, I crossed the floor of his bedroom, knowing full well that I was probably crossing several boundaries I really shouldn't cross. If he got angry with me he really would have every right to be. Even so, I crawled onto the bed behind him and inched up close. At first, I just placed my hand on his upper arm, letting him know that I was there. He froze for a moment, but he didn't explode, or push me away or say anything. Emboldened by this I gingerly wrapped my arm around him and I felt how he tensed up, fighting against the embrace for a fraction of a second. Then he relaxed again, giving up trying to silence his sobs. Giving in.
“Richard, it's okay...” I whispered, rubbing his arms. His body shook and I held him a little tighter. There was a long silence in which I just let him cry. But he was still hiding away from me. "Richard, come here, love, come on.." I grabbed his shoulders turning him around, forcing him to face me. He turned around a little reluctantly and instantly buried his face against my neck, hiding away again. “I'm just... scared, Ron...,” he muttered through his sobs.
“I know, I know you are... It's okay to be scared. I've never had to go through what you're going through right now, but I've lost things that were important to me too, and... I can imagine it might feel a little similar no matter how you lose them.” Richard didn't say anything to this, he just held me tighter, and continued to sob. I let him cling to me, there wasn't much else I could do but let him know that I'm there for him, that he wasn't alone. Slowly I ran my hand over his hair and his back again.
“I... can't breathe...” he mumbled suddenly, pulling away from me, but only an inch or so. It wasn't the embrace that was suffocating him, it's his feelings. I recognized the early signs of a full-blown panic attack.
"Yes, you can, Richard. It's just a panic attack. Close your eyes and breathe. Just focus on that." I recognized it because I'd been here before, I'd felt everything spiraling out of control inside me. I'd been at that point where all the grief and hurt towers over you, to the point where it threatens to crush you. I placed my palm on his chest, his heart thundering underneath my fingers. His chest heaved, he's hyperventilating. Taking hold of his wrist I guided his palm to my chest, placing it over my heart. “Breathe with me, all right? Just do what I do.” I breathed deeply and deliberately so he could feel it under his palm. I took in air through my nose and blow it out between my lips, slowly. Looking at him through the dim light of his bedroom his eyes were still closed, a frown on his brow as he was trying to regain control of himself. Bit by bit I felt how his breathing and his heart calmed down. I ran my palm over his chest in slow strokes. “Better?” I whispered. He just nodded, removes his hand from my chest, and wrapped his arm around me again, not ready to look into my eyes just yet. Or be released from my embrace. “I know this hurts, Richard. But you know... every human in the universe has had that feeling at some point in their life, I've had that feeling too. And... Eventually, it starts to hurt less, and the vast, vast majority of people get through it somehow, one way or the other. And maybe even something good happens to most of them on the other end of it. ”
“Is that your backhanded way of saying that I should just man up?” His voice, muffled against my shoulder, was so gruff I couldn't quite tell if he was making a joke or feeling a little offended.
“No, of course not, silly... It's my way of trying to tell you that even though this is probably the worst you've ever felt in your life, it's just... pain. And pain isn't dangerous, it won't kill you even if you feel like it might. It hurts like hell, but it won't always feel this bad. Maybe I'm strange, but I have always found some sort of odd comfort in that thought. I promise you, Richard, this will get better, please believe that. But it'll take time. And meanwhile... Don't do this to yourself, don't hide away like this. Don't go through this all on your own, because you don't have to. And I'm not going to let you, okay?You'll need some support from people who care about you to get through this. And I'm one of those people." Richard sighed heavily, then I felt him squeeze me a little.
“Thanks...” he croaked. In the long silence that followed I just ran my hand up and down his back slowly. His crying had died down, but his body was still tense and trembling a little. “You know what's the scariest part?” His voice was thick from crying now, and he talked so quietly that it is barely audible.
“No. What is?” I asked in the same, quiet voice, but full of empathy.
“The thought that I'll be alone for the rest of my life.”
“That is a scary thought, but... There's no way that will happen. Do you really think women will leave you alone for the rest of your life? You said it yourself, they've been coming up to you all night. Come on, you're cute, you're funny, you have great hair, lots of money, unusually good teeth for a Brit...” At this Richard let out a little chuckle.
“I'm sorry, I'm probably being... ridiculous,” he mumbled, sounding ashamed.
“A little. But you're allowed to be right now. You know, you should look at it this way; at least you were married once! For over a decade! I haven't even been close to that! So, by deduction, if any of us is going to die alone it'll be me.”
“That's bollocks,” he grumbled.
“Oh, so it's your certain destiny when you think so, and absolute bollocks when I do?” I say with a little smirk, poking him gently in the ribs.
“Don't tease a man who just had a complete mental breakdown, you're a nurse, you should know better than that,” he argues but chuckles despite himself as he tries to get hold of my wrist to stop my poking.
“No, that's bollocks, you didn't have a breakdown. I think you really needed to get that out, you've been bottling all of that up for way too long, since way before you and I even got to know each other.” Richard sighs, pulls away from me slightly and opens his eyes for the first time. He wipes his face with the back of his hand, sniffs, and sighs again before daring to look at me. His eyes are red and puffy; he looks exhausted and sad.
“Why are you always right?”
“Because I'm smarter than you, love,” I giggle. Having surreptitiously wriggled my wrist free from his grasp I poke him in the ribs again, but just once.
“Anyway, you thinking you'll going to be alone for the rest of your life. You're funny, you're beautiful, incredibly kind, fun to be with... I'm amazed you haven't been married yet, a lot of men has had to be idiots.”
“Aw, thank you,” I said, unable to stop myself from kissing his forehead in gratefully, but thinking he was only saying this because he was drunk.
“God, my head hurts.” Wincing, he clutches his forehead. Without even thinking, I run my hand through his hair and kiss his forehead quickly.
“I know... I gave you paracetamol when you came home, they should kick in soon.”
“Thanks...” he mumbled, his eyes closed again. There was a silence in which I wondered what to do. Richard seemed to be through the worst of it, but I didn't know whether I should leave him alone or not.
“Maybe I should check on Teegee,” I sighed, sitting up on his bed.
“Will you... come back?” When he opened his eyes he looked a little scared, like a little boy who thought he wouldn't be allowed to sleep with the light on.
“Of course I will, if you want me to?" I smile at him, a little surprised at the request. "I'll be back in a minute.” I crawled out of bed and headed for the dogs' room first, none of them batted an eyelid when I looked in on them, they're all asleep. Teegee laid in her big box loaded with towels and blankets, a place she could give birth and tend to her puppies in peace. She raised her head a little as I entered, but she seemed calm like she was just patiently waiting. I rummaged through my bag and changed into my pajamas, then filled a glass of water in the kitchen again. Returning to Richard's bedroom, he had snuggled up under the covers, his suit trousers and shirt a crumpled heap on the floor. Hearing the sound of my footsteps, he opened his eyes, very much awake yet. Crawling onto the bed, I wordlessly offered him the glass. He accepted it and had a drink before putting it down on the nightstand. Burrowing my way under the duvet I came to rest next to him, but nowhere near as close as I was before. From where my head rested against the pillow I looked over at him. “How are you feeling?” I asked, my voice barely audible. I know it was a stupid question.
“Like shit,” he whispered back, giving me the saddest smile I had ever seen.
“Aaaw,” I crooned, running my hand quickly over his cheek. His arms were resting on top of the covers and he fidgeted with his own fingers the way he usually did, rubbing his thumb into the palm of his other hand.
“I'm still here, you know?” I reached out and placed my hand on top of his arm, giving it a little squeeze, then retracted it hurriedly. Richard turned away from me, but only to flick off the light on the nightstand. In the darkness that followed, I can sense more than see that he inched up close to me. I stretched out my arm to him to signal that I didn't mind him seeking out closeness. His head came to rest on my shoulder, my arm draped around his back. My heart sped up as I felt the warm, bare skin on his back against my arm and palm. Gingerly, as if not quite sure if he's allowed, he draped his arm across my stomach, wrapping it around me. I gave him a little squeeze to assure him this is okay, and then, to my own horror, I kiss his forehead again. “Try to get some sleep, yeah?”
“Okay. Just... shove me away if I get annoying,” he mumbled, embarrassed about his own need for closeness and comfort.
“It's okay, I get it, Hammond.” Richard fell asleep before I did, his arm getting heavier, tired from alcohol and the exhaustion of the emotional outburst he just had.

The dogs woke me up at around 7 am with gentle, but incessant barks. Half-comatose I stumbled out of bed and let them out for a wee. Eager to get back into their warm beds they all came straight back inside. When I opened my eyes the next time it was nearly noon. I wasn't exactly surprised, I had fallen asleep sometime after Richard had. Richard was sleeping soundly on his stomach next to me, looking serene but with a serious case of bedhead. He had stayed close to me in his sleep the entire night, and even now his hand was resting on my arm. Carefully, I wriggled my arm free from his grasp, not wanting to wake him up. Getting out of bed I groaned at my stiff neck, definitely a punishment from the reading marathon the previous night. My first priority was coffee, but on my way to the kitchen, I decided to check in on Teegee again. When I entered she doesn't even notice, she is too busy licking something that I can't see at first. Then I realized she is occupied with licking a newborn puppy, one out of four that is now nestling against her in the puppy crate. She looked up at me and I could have sworn I saw pride in her eyes, and she wagged her tail slowly at the sight of me. Turning on my heels I ran right back to Richard's bedroom.
“Richard! Wake up! We have babies!” I shouted excitedly and bounced onto the bed on my knees.
“What? What?!” Richard's eyes sprung open at the sudden loud noise, then he noticed me.
“Richard! Babies!” I repeated, still bouncing on the bed.
“Ba... babies?” He groaned.
“Dog babies! Four of them! Come on, get up!” Finally, the message seemed to penetrate the thick haze of sleep muddling his hungover brain.
“Teegee had the puppies?!” He sprang out of bed and headed for the door, realized he was just in his boxers, did a U-turn and headed for his closet, snatching up the first t-shirt he could find. Deciding much more clothing wasn't necessary, he did another u-turn and barged out of the room. From where I was sitting on the bed I laughed at him, feeling like I was watching a cartoon for a moment. Then I crawled out, snatched up my phone and followed after him. He stopped for a second at the door to the guest bedroom, gathering himself before entering the room. His behavior and body language were calm and gentle now, as he didn't want to disturb the puppies or Teegee too much. We both sat down on the floor by the crate, watching the bundles as they lie in a heap of paws and heads. Teegee had expertly cleaned them all, and they all have shiny, short blonde puppy fur. Their eyes were closed, as they would have for another 10 days or so. An occasional, high-pitched, tiny squeak escaped a puppy, but other than that the scene was calm. Richard gently patted Teegee's head and ears, crooning softly at her. “Hello, love. Yeah, you've been such a good girl, haven't you? You managed everything on your own, you didn't need any help at all, did you? That's my girl. You're a mum now! Pretty spooky, huh?” He continued to speak softly to her and she licked his hand, not understanding the words but understanding the tone of his voice, and my insides went soft at the scene. Gently he touched the puppies, making sure he had Teegee's blessing for doing so. He ran his nimble fingertips slowly over the puppies and one of them yawned widely.
“I just hope she's gotten them all out, that’s my worst nightmare if any pups are left in there...” I fretted, looking at Teegee with concern.
“She'd probably be more restless if there was, licking herself and moving around. She seems very peaceful – I think she's gotten them all out,” he said calmly, still caressing the puppies quietly.
“I hope so... You have a lot more experience than me when it comes to this... I had a dog when I was a kid, and now Sprocket, but I never had to deal with birth and puppies.”
“It's still nerve-wracking, I always worry that something might go wrong. But animals, they... I think they operate more on instinct, they're not controlled by emotions or the fear or expectation of pain, we let our fears and worries run away with us. I'm not saying dogs have no feelings because I'm sure they do, they're just better at listening to their instincts.”
“You're probably right. So, how good are you at spotting if it's a boy or a girl? Can we find out?”
“Maybe? I can try,” he said and gently he lifted a puppy up, making sure that Teegee was all right with it. It fit in the size of his palm, and he slowly rolled it over on its back to try and see what sex it is. “Okay little one, let's have a look. Please don't wee on me?” he admonished mildly. “Girl, I think.” He lifted the puppy up to his face and nuzzled its nose, before putting her down and picking up another one. He handled them with such tenderness and care, stroking them gently, and I felt my heart melt and my uterus twitch at the mere sight of it. I couldn't resist the urge of picking up my phone and snapping a photo as he held a puppy up to his face and brushed its fur against his own cheek. “So, that's three boys and a girl, but I wouldn't bet money on that, they're more.. educated guesses,” he shrugged, still holding the last of the puppies. “Here. You hold her.” Gingerly, terrified of breaking the little lump of pup that was being handed to me, I cupped her in my hands and raised her to my face, staring lovingly at the squished little face.
“We're puppy parents!” I looked excitedly at Richard over the pup sleeping in my hand.
“We are!” He nodded, showing that characteristic wide, excited grin.
“We're awful parents, though, we were both here and still we missed them being born,” I added as an afterthought.
“Well, technically Teegee and Sprocket are the parents. We're more... grandparents,” Richard giggled, then picked up my phone and took a photo of me holding the pup up to my face. I'm surprised at how calm and fine Richard seemed this morning, and I couldn't stop myself from asking.
“So, how are you?”
“Oh, I'm fine. Less hungover than I thought, I'm guessing that's your doing?” He petted Teegee while he talked, avoiding my gaze.
“Fancy some breakfast soon?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
“Bacon and eggs kinda day? Or is that a bit much?” I added with a smirk.
“No, I think that would be just great, actually,” he said, daring to cast a quick glance at me. “Maybe we should let Sprocket in here first? Let him say hello? The bloke has become a father after all,” Richard suggested.
“Can we do that? Are you sure? He isn't going to... cause too much disturbance or something?”
“Nah, we'll give it a try, see how it goes.” Richard got up and pottered out of the room. When he returned he had finally found himself a pair of jeans, to my relief, and had Sprocket on a leash. At first, Sprocket seemed to just want to greet me, but then he caught the scent and saw the little puppies in the crate. Like any terrified, new dad he froze in his tracks, then looked from the puppies to Teegee, then up at Richard and then me, confusion on his face.
“Don't look at me, this is your doing,” I giggled, ruffling the dog's fur. Carefully he approached the crate, but Teegee seemed not to mind him coming closer. She even wagged her tail a few times. Richard sat down again, still holding on to Sprocket's leash and watching the scene carefully, ready to intervene if anything should happen. But Sprocket seemed to understand that he should tread lightly and greeted Teegee with gentle respect. She even allowed him to approach the bundle of pups cradled between her paws as well. I picked up a puppy and held it out for him to investigate further. He gave it a skeptical sniff and a lick, then looked up at me with bafflement and confusion in his eyes. “Yeah, you made these, you daft furry sod,” I chuckled, then gingerly put the baby down again.
“Maybe we should get out of here, leave them in peace for a while,” Richard suggested. I got clumsily to my feet after having sat on the floor for too long.
“I need coffee,” I mumbled and shuffled off to the kitchen, Sprocket plodded along behind and Richard brought up the rear. I quickly set about making coffee, then I started on breakfast, leaving Richard to nurse his hangover at the kitchen table in peace.
“Ron, I hate asking you more favors, but could you possibly drive me to London later..? My car is parked there, at my flat, and I should pick it up..”
“Of course I will,” I said simply, putting my now empty mug of coffee down on the table. My plate was empty, and I leaned back against the back of the chair with a groan, having eaten too much. Richard hadn't mentioned anything about last night yet, and I had decided not to push him on the matter. The fact that he finally got an outlet is the important thing. If he wanted to talk about it at some point, I knew that he would. “Can't let your baby stand all on her own in London now can we,” I added with a smile. “Teegee and the pups will be just fine on their own for the afternoon.”
“Thanks...” Richard mumbled, poking at his leftover breakfast with a fork.

Most of the drive to London passed by in silence. At one point I was even sure Richard was asleep, his eyes were closed and he hadn't moved in ages. Then Richard cleared his throat.
“Ron, listen...” Richard hadn't been sleeping at all, he'd been trying to figure out what to say. “I owe you a big thank you. For... last night. For being there. For... not leaving me alone. I'm not sure what I would've done if you hadn't been there to... hold me together.” I took my eyes off the road for a moment to look at him, but he wasn't looking at me. He was fiddling with his hands again, nervously rubbing his thumb into the palm of his other hand.
“It's okay, Richard.” Keeping my eyes on the road I stretched out a hand and placed it over his, he took it and lets me squeeze it for a second. “You came to me, you know. You came back to the house, you knew I'd be there. And I'm glad you did, being alone wouldn't have been good for you last night. How are you feeling, though?” I have asked him this before today, but he knows that I meant it in a different way now.
“I don't know, really. I feel... Empty, sort of, and tired. But even that feels better than.. last night.” Richard stared out the window in the silence that followed, absent-mindedly scratching his chin. When he speaks again, his whole demeanor had changed. “So, I've meant to ask you, what are you doing for Christmas? Going home to Norway?”
“What? Oh, er, no, I'm not. I'm just going to, um... Do the usual, you know, relax and stay at home. Made myself available to take on shifts, they're always crazy busy during the holidays. How about you?”
“We're all going to my brother's house this year I think, all of us; mum, dad, both brothers, and their families..”
“Which brother?”
“Oh, we're going to Andrew's.”
“So, how much are you not looking forward to Christmas this year?” I asked bluntly. I realized that Richard had wanted to change the topic, but I also knew that the holidays might be something he dreaded. He sagged a little and sighed.
“I don't know,” he mumbled. “It's another change to get used to, another thing that won't be like it used to be. I'm getting so sick of that.” He rubed his face a little frustratedly.
“Sorry, I didn't mean to make you sad again-” I began to apologize, but Richard waved a hand.
“No, Ron, it's okay. Actually, I'm glad to have someone who tries to understand me, because I can barely understand myself these days.” My hand was resting absent-mindedly on my thigh, and he reached over and squeezed it for a moment. Entering London Richard guided me in the direction of the posh area where his flat was. His Porsche was parked outside the building, his baby seemingly unharmed, and he breathed a sigh of relief. “I hate this street parking. This area has security, but I still worry..” He muttered, getting out of the car. Richard bonded with his cars almost as much as he bonded with people and dogs. Early December-London was a little windy and sour, and as I stood on the pavement, facing Richard, I pulled my jacket closer around me. He rummaged around in his pockets until his fingers connected with jangling keys. “I'm just going up to the flat to fetch my bag, then I'm driving home,” he explained.
“Are you going to be all right on your own?” I asked, giving him a worried look.
“Yes, I'll be fine,” he said, but not in that offhand, insincere sort of way. He even gave a little smile, taking a step closer to me. “I'm going to go home, keep an eye on the puppies, have a long shower, try to relax..”
“Sounds like a good plan,” I smiled encouragingly. “Listen, take care of yourself, all right?” I raised a hand to his cheek, running my thumb over it. I felt closer to him now, after what happened the night before. Because he opened up to me and accepted me comforting him. It felt like I knew him a lot better than I have before.
“I will,” he promised.
“And just... call me, all right? Any time, if you need someone to talk to if you're sad or just bored. Okay? Remember what I said last night, you're not alone, even if you might feel like it right now. I don't want you to sit there and be miserable on your own, I'm not having that. I'll come over if you need me to, I'm not that far away. If you call and I'm at work I'll call you as soon as I get a chance, yeah?” My hand is still on his cheek, and I half expected him to start laughing at me and my maternal manner.
“All right, I promise, I'll call.” He smiled, taking yet another step closer, his arms closed around my shoulder as he pulled me in for a long hug. Then he gave my forehead a grateful kiss. "Thank you."
“You're welcome,” I smiled, patting his back, still being hugged. “And let me know if you need help babysitting the pups, they're half my responsibility too,” I added when I had been let go. He nodded and took a step towards the door.
“Drive safe, yeah?” He admonished, and I nodded dutifully back before getting in the door.
Safely back at home I scroll through the photos on my phone, and couldn't resist making a tweet with the photos of both me and Richard holding puppies. “It's a boy! And a boy! And a boy! And a girl! And a Hamster!? #puppies #proudparents”

Chapter Text

There was a knock on my door. I froze, hardly believing my own ears, it was the last sound I would have expected to hear today. There was another, slightly louder knock. Getting out of bed I observed rather sadly that I was already a little wobbly on my feet, and shuffled to the front door. Opening it, my heart instantly plummeted to the ground. On my doorstep was Richard, with a stupid Santa's hat on his head and a wide, proud grin plastered on his face.
“Surprise!” He said loudly.
“Richard..!” I exclaimed, and despite trying to make myself smile, I felt how my expression sagged. Seeing my expression, Richard changed too. I didn't even want to invite him in, but I had to, so I took a step back and let him in. “What on earth are you doing here?” The tone in my voice was sharper than I had meant it to be.
“I came here to surprise you, but to be honest I had expected a different reaction... A surprise visit from a friend normally is a thing you get happy about,” he replied as he enters the hallway, looking a little disappointed.
“Aren't you with your family?”
“I was with my family, but now I'm here. But I get the sense that you wish I wasn't. Am I disturbing you?” He asked, an edge to his voice.
“No, of course you're not disturbing me, because I'm all fucking alone, aren't I!” The anger in my voice was already beyond my control, quickly coming to shield me from the shame and loneliness I felt. I half-hoped that my anger and rudeness was going to be enough for him to leave, but he wasn't going without a fight.
“Why is my being here so upsetting?” He demanded, his voice rising.
“Because, Richard, it is 2 pm on Christmas Day and I'm sitting here on my own, already well on my way to being half drunk! I'm half drunk, and lonely, pathetic and miserable, and I don't want anyone to see me like that! Especially not you!” I shouted at him at the top of my voice. Treacherous tears were already bursting from my eyes, and not wanting him to see me cry as well, I turned on my heels and stomped away from him. I ran to the kitchen and came to an abrupt halt by the counter, leaning against it to keep myself upright. I shut my eyes as hard as I can, desperately wanting to stop the flow of tears. Listening for any sounds, I was fully prepared to hear the sound of my front door open and shut as Richard left. But after a moment of silence, I heard him making his way through the hallway and living room, entering the kitchen. I didn't turn around, if I did I'd fall apart. In fact, I already had, and I didn't want him to see it. The sound of his footsteps paused for a moment, then they came even closer; his arms closing around me from behind.
“Ron...” He sighed. “I'm lonely and miserable and pathetic, too. Can't we just be... miserable and pathetic and half-drunk together?” His chin rested on my shoulder, I felt the warmth of his cheek on my ear. His words reminded me that Christmas wasn't easy on him either, at least not this year. Unable to keep it in any longer I let out a choked sob.
“Okay,” I sniffed.
“Okay...” Richard repeated in a mild voice. "All right, Ron. Come on, come here." Mirroring something I had done to him not so long ago, he took hold of my shoulders, turning me around to face him. Not looking into his eyes I did what he had done that night, and buried my wet face against his neck. My sobs quieted down to just silent tears. He ran his hand over my back, again and again. “It's okay, love. It's okay.” All these feelings I'd tried not to be aware of these past few days suddenly spilled out of me. The sadness and the loneliness.“What did you go and run off for, eh? You lectured me about not hiding away, and then you do exactly the same.”
“Sorry,” I mumbled, not really having more to say in my defense. Showing this side of myself wasn't easy on me either, I felt vulnerable and pathetic. Eventually, I ran out of tears and I pulled away from him a little to wipe my cheek with the sleeve of my shirt. “I really need to work on my surprises,” Richard said with a small smile as he wiped my other cheek with his thumb. His stupid Santa hat was gone, and I was grateful for it.
“No, you don't,” I sniffed. “It was a good surprise. You might need to work on your choice of friends instead,” I said, trying to return the smile. “I hate that you just saw me cry.”
“You've seen me cry?" He challenged. "Don't worry about it. Unlike some women, you don't go all horribly ugly or make these unearthly noises when you cry,” Richard added, pulling a face, and I couldn't help but laugh.
“You're horrible. Want some wine?”
“Oh god yes, please, lots of wine,” he said with relief. With a final sniff, I opened a cupboard to take out a glass, then grabbed the cardboard box of wine. Heading out of the kitchen, Richard followed in my footsteps. “Where's the TV?” He asked as we passed through the living room.
“I live in here now,” I said mysteriously, pointing the way. Richard frowned as he entered my bedroom, my nest for the past couple of days, and had a look around. My TV was on the top of my dresser, currently showing commercials on BBC. My bed was a pile of duvets and pillows, and a big breakfast tray in the middle of it served as a table for my wine glass, my phone, and a wide array of snacks. My iPad and a few books were also scattered across the bed. “It's Christmas and I'm all alone, so I can stay in bed for days and watch telly and drink wine all I want,” I said defensively. Taking the glass from Richard I placed it next to mine on the tray, filled them both to the brim, and set the wine box down on my nightstand.
“Did you hear me complaining?” He retorted and got onto the bed.
"Mno, but I could hear you judging me in your head," I mumbled a little sourly. Resting his back comfortably against a pile of pillows stacked against the headboard, he picked up his glass from the tray. “Are you kidding? I'm not judging you, this is brilliant!” He grinned widely and had a sip of his glass, looking relaxed. I picked up my own glass and sat down.
“I was just about to watch 'The Grinch' when you showed up. I realize it's a bit childish, but...”
“The Grinch?” Richard frowned, thinking.
“Yeah, um... Dr. Seuss. The green thing who stole Christmas? Jim Carrey is in it.”
“I haven't seen that. Go for it, might be funny,” he waved, getting more comfortable. We giggled as we watched the film, drinking wine and stuffing our faces with sweets. Surprisingly we managed to keep our concentration and watched it till the end, both perfectly happy with losing ourselves in a film and not having to think about our own miserable lives for a while. As the credits rolled, I took a deep breath and looked over at Richard.
“Listen, I'm sorry for reacting like that when you showed up. It just... caught me off guard. I am actually really glad you are here. Even if I shouted at you.”
“Good. I'm glad I'm here, too,” he said with a little smile. “I mean, you've done so much for me lately, been there for me. And this time I thought maybe... I could be here for you, for once. You didn't want to tell me much about your plans for Christmas, and I didn't want you to sit here all on your own, which was what I suspected you were doing. What did you do last night?” His question caught me off guard, and I answered it with complete honesty before I had a chance to think.
“This, really,” I shrugged, gesturing to the bed. Admitting to that, to having sat alone on Christmas eve, I thought that would make me feel worse, more vulnerable, but it didn't. It surprised me that I don't mind telling Richard this.
“Why don't you go back to Norway for the holidays?” He asked.
“Because I don't have anything to go back to,” I mumbled darkly. Richard gave me a long, searching look, waiting for more explanation. When it didn't come, he cleared his throat.
“Ron... You know, I feel like I can tell you just about anything. And you know me so well by now, you've seen just about every side to me there is, good and bad and very ugly. We spend a lot of time together, but there is this big part of your life that I know absolutely nothing about. I don't mean to pry, I realize there might be a reason for that, and I don't want you to feel like I'm pushing you to talk about it, but..” He paused, not quite knowing how to continue. I sighed heavily, thinking, trying to come to a decision. Maybe it was just time. He came all this way, on Christmas Day, just to see me, to be with me. He trusted me, and I owed him to do the same.
“In the fourteen years I've lived here in England, I've only been back to Norway twice. This is... such a long story... And not a happy one,” I warned, not really knowing how to say any of the things I was about to. I have never really told anyone, not everything.
“Take all the time you need," he said kindly.
“My mum had me when she was 21... I was the result of a one-night stand, she was so high and drunk she had no idea who with. If she had any idea who my father might be, she was too ashamed to tell anyone. I think she kept partying through a lot of her pregnancy, it's a miracle I survived at all. When I was born I was only 5 pounds. My mum was an only child, and when I was a baby my grandmother helped her out with taking care of me while mum went on frequent benders. Grandma died when I was four, I barely remember her. I think I was 8 years old when I started getting myself ready for school in the mornings, it was the only reason I was so eager to learn how to tell time. My mum was either passed out in her bed or she wasn't even home. Teachers and people at school were suspicious, I kept turning up with dirty clothes, or not enough clothes to keep me warm. I made my own lunch when there was any food around, and I lived off chocolate bread spread. Sometimes there wasn't any food in the house to make lunch out of anyway and I went to school without any ..." At this I paused a little and drew a deep sigh, fiddling with my bed linen. I glanced quickly up at Richard, who looked at me with eyes full of slight shock and empathy. To encourage me to keep talking, and to show his support, he took my hand in his, stopping my fiddling.
"I did well in school, though, I just... liked to learn things, and the encouragement I got from my teachers was the only positive thing in my life. And books, stories. Anyway, I was 12 when they finally took me away from her and put me in a foster home. She had visitation rights, times when she could see me, but she never came. About a year after I moved away from her, my mum met this man. She got into rehab, got cleaned up, got married, and even had two kids with this guy. I only found out when I was 18, my half-siblings were already five and three years old. For many years I was convinced that I had been the reason my mum had been drinking and taking drugs, that I had just been a burden to her because she turned her life around when she finally got rid of me..." My lower lip started wobbling now, my eyes filling with tears, and I stopped talking and took another deep breath, trying to compose myself. I had done enough crying over her, over that part of my life.
"Ron, her being an addict had nothing to do with you," Richard said firmly, squeezing my hand.
"Yeah, I know that... Now. But the thought still hurts. Anyway, my foster home took care of me as well as they could, they supported me, and made me go to therapy for all of the years I lived with them. But they never became family to me, they were just.. kind people who took care of me. Maybe because I never let them in, I didn't dare. But I am eternally grateful to them for what they did. They even saved me enough money growing up that I was able to move here. I moved to England when I was 18, I had nothing to stay in Norway for. I worked my way through nurse school, having odd jobs on the side, and finished when I was 22.” Pausing, I took another deep breath, needing another break. I knew that I wasn't not finished yet. I gave Richard a quick glance, he was watching me intently, looking sad more than anything. “The first time I came back to Norway was right after I graduated from school. Someone, I think maybe from the police or the government, contacted me to notify me that my 'biological mother' had died. Her husband had done nothing to try and find me, my name had been omitted from the obituary and the funeral had already been held. I don't even know why, but I just had to go back, and see her grave. I went back to my foster home, too, and got to say properly thank you for everything they did for me. The second time I went back to Norway was... to go to court. My mum had good life insurance, weirdly, and according to Norwegian law I was entitled to inherit money after her because I was her biological child, my birth certificate said so. But my mum's new husband had lawyered up, demanding that I should not inherit as much as a penny, everything should go to him and his children.” At this point, Richard seemed unable to keep his mouth shut any longer.
“Please tell me you won that bloody trial?” He asked loudly, looking affronted.
“Yes, I did, I got my share. Afterward, I even felt guilty for it, for taking that money, because I had barely seen her since I was 12.”
“Ron, for crying out loud! From what you have told me, she seems to have caused you nothing but misery, take it as restitution for all the shite she did to you!”
“I know, Richard, I know, I have, I don't feel bad about it anymore,” I said calmly, showing my palm for him to simmer down. He gave me another long look, there was a lot of anger in his eyes but I knew that it wasn't directed at me.
“Good,” he said finally, then took an angry swig of his wine.
“Richard, I... I don't tell people about my past, because if I do I'll just be that girl with the tragically sad upbringing, you know? They'll just look at me with.. pity and they'll see nothing but my tragic, Dickensian past. See how broken I am. And I hate that. ”
“No, no, I get that...” Richard said, his voice quiet again. When he looked at me, I see neither pity nor empathy in his eyes, but I can't really decipher what his eyes are trying to tell me. “I wish you knew how special you are. You're not broken, Ron..” He said, having figured out what to say. I frown at him. All I have ever heard when I have told my story is 'I'm so sorry, that’s awful." Now I'm lost, I don't know how to respond to this. “I mean, just the fact that you are who you are is a bloody miracle. With your upbringing, you could have very easily ended up an addict, or gone bonkers, or been dead for that matter... You could have been bitter and mean but you're not, you're the exact opposite. So no, I'm not going to pity you. Of course I think it's awful that you had to go through all that while growing up, I wish you hadn't been put through that, but... Despite all of that, the person you are today is just.. amazing, and I admire you for it.” That was what his look had been – admiration.
“Wow... thank you,” I eventually forced out the words, but I avoided his gaze and fiddled with the fabric on the duvet again. “But don't say anything else, you've already seen me cry once today!” I pointed at him with a warning finger, then sniffed when a single tear managed to escape my eye.
“Thank you for telling me all of that, though. I can't imagine that was easy,” he said, and for a moment I felt his hand on my shoulder, giving it a squeeze.
“It wasn't as hard as I thought it would be, really.” Lifting my eyes off the bed I gave him a crooked, little smile. “Because I trust you, I guess.” Putting down his wine glass, Richard returned the smile then leant over and gave me a hug, stroking my back.
“Enough weepy talk, let's see if we can find another funny film, yeah?” Richard suggested when he let me go.
“Yes, please.” We refilled our glasses and flick through the channels, watching a bit here and a bit there, but we didn't really pay much attention as we were too busy chattering about everything and nothing. I made a few runs to the kitchen for glasses of water and fizzing tablets of multivitamins, anything that might dampen the hangover I knew we'd both be in for the next morning. “So, did you get anything good for Christmas?”
“Mostly boring things, shirts, and a few books I'll probably never read. Yours was one of the best ones, really, those biking gloves were great, thank you,” Richard smiled.
“Glad you liked them! I was getting tired of your constant whining about having cold hands, thought it was about time you got a pair of warm and properly waterproof gloves for when we're out with the ATVs. Sorry, it wasn't something more.... interesting,” I shrugged. I had wanted to give him something more personal but hadn't been able to think of anything.
“No, no, they're something I need and will use a lot, those are the best gifts. It's better than books I won't read,” he said with a smile. While he looked at me I could almost see the thought process in his head; how he contemplated asking me if I got anything good for Christmas, but realized that might be a bad idea considering what I had told him earlier. I decided to start talking instead.
“I meant to thank you for that album you gave me, it was really.. amazing, best gift I've been given in my life, probably! It must have taken you ages!” Richard seemed relieved that I liked his present; it was a photo book with images from our trip to Africa. He had his camera with him at all times during that trip, taking pictures constantly, and so had I. The book contained gorgeous images of landscapes, of meetings with the locals, the crew around the bonfire, or in silly situations. It was simply a fantastic memory to have of an amazing trip. He had even taken a few good ones of me.
“I will freely admit to having had some help; I know someone in a graphic design firm, asked for some help with it. We picked out the best photos together and he edited them and put them together. But it turned out all right, I think.”
“It was fantastic. Thank you.” I reached out and squeezed his hand for a moment in gratitude. During the night we seemed to have inched closer to each other on the bed, now we were so close that our arms are touching. “So... What did your family say when you left today?” I had to ask. His leaving his family on Christmas Day couldn't have gone unnoticed, I knew that much.
“Oh, they, um... Were a bit surprised, I think. My mum played the guilt card pretty quickly. My dad said nothing, typically. They all tried to get me to stay, in their own way. Andrew was the only one who sort of... understood it, I think. All he wanted to know was if I was going over to someone else's place or not, he didn't want me to be alone. When I assured him I wouldn't be alone all night, he let me go. I just couldn't stand being there any longer, Ron. I knew this Christmas was going to be different, but I didn't know in what ways, really. Suddenly I felt like such an outsider, them with all their family happiness and... togetherness, it was driving me crazy. I had that, too, I had a marriage, I had a wife, and it failed. Suddenly I just felt like such a... failure. I had to get out of there...” Richard's mood changed dramatically while he talked, immediately becoming tense.
“No, that's bollocks, come off it...” I sighed. Pulling him towards me, he came to rest with his head on my shoulder. I squeezed him a little, wanting to comfort him... “Richard... If you had stayed in a marriage that wasn't happy, would that have been a 'win'? Forcing yourself to stay in a relationship that isn't working, that's a failure in my book. Your marriage didn't fail, Richard, it just... changed. You didn't fail at being married, but you changed, as people. It just happens sometimes, and it doesn't have to be anyone’s fault.”
“Hmm... Maybe,” Richard hummed thoughtfully, not sounding very convinced.
“You know, anyone who saw your life from the outside wouldn't say you were failing at life, though. I mean... You're not exactly hard to look at, you're more than a little well off, you're famous and a presenter on the most popular TV show on earth, and that's not even an exaggeration. Plus, you're single and you probably have women killing each other with their high heels in their eagerness to give you the best blow job you've ever had in your life.” At this Richard snorted loudly. “By most people's standards, Richard, you are actually winning at life.” He continued to giggle quietly, from where he rested in the nook of my arm I could feel how his body shook a little with each giggle. When his body stilled, he draped an arm across my stomach and gave me a squeeze.
“I couldn't stand being with my family today, the only one I wanted to be with today was you. Because, when I'm with you... Being with you is the only time I feel like me, like my old self again. Sometimes I wonder if you're the only thing that is keeping me together at all.” He wrapped his arm tighter around me, slipped his hand underneath my back, and pressed closer against me. His cheek was against mine in a long, lingering hug. I didn't know how to respond to what Richard had just said. I felt surprised and happy that he would express that level of closeness to me. But another part of me couldn't help but wonder if he only felt this way because I came into his life after his divorce; I was completely separate from his old life. Was that what I was to him, some sort of escape? Still not knowing what to answer, I just wrapped my arms tighter around him, caressed his back and enjoyed the embrace. Richard moved slowly, his cheek brushed over mine until the corner of his mouth found mine. Without any sort of conscious thought, reacting on pure instinct and want, I opened my mouth to him as he pressed his lips against mine. I let him kiss me and I kissed him back. Pulling away from him was the last thing I wanted, but I knew that I had to. I allowed myself to give him one last kiss, savoring every moment. Then I withdrew my lips and pulled back a little. Richard leaned in, chasing after me, but I placed a hand on his chest to steady him.
“Richard, no, don't... Not like this,” I mumbled, shaking my head a little. I hated myself for saying this. My eyes were closed because I couldn't bear to look at him, afraid that my urge to kiss him again would take over if I did. “Right now, we're both just miserable and.. lonely, and drunk and in need of comfort...” More than anything in this world I wanted to kiss him more, to feel his soft lips again and bury my fingers in his hair, but some part of me knew that all of this was happening for all the wrong reasons.
“I'm sorry...” he muttered, sounding ashamed.
“No, no, don't be sorry. I'm not!” I reassured him quickly, placing my hand on the side of his neck, caressing his cheek with my thumb. Seeing the apologetic look on his face I couldn't help but kiss him once more, a hurried but intense kiss. “ It's just that... you're my best mate, and if this is going to happen, I don't want it to happen like this, not when we're drunk and desperate and might regret it in the morning... It might ruin everything, and I don't want to take that risk.”
“I know, you're right,” he said, sounding honest, then he sighed heavily. “Sorry...”
“Don't apologize, you don't have anything to apologize for,” I reassured him. “Listen, I better go out with Sprocket one more time for tonight. I'll be back in ten or fifteen, okay?”
“All right,” he said, giving me a smile that was still a little sad. I gave him another kiss, but on the forehead this time, then crawled out of bed. It was cold outside, so I put on warm boots and a big jacket, a hat, and gloves, Sprocket bounced around me all the time knowing he was in for a walk. I circled the block one extra time, trying to use the fresh air to clear my head. Everything inside me was screaming for me to run back inside, crawl into that warm bed and kiss him again. I was certain that even though I am drunk, I wouldn't regret kissing him by morning, but I didn't know if the same went for Richard. And if he woke up feeling guilty and ashamed of whatever had happened, it could actually ruin our friendship. Maybe he'd never be able to move past it and then I would lose him completely. With a sigh, I tried to settle for the fact that I had made a rather sensible decision, despite being rather drunk. Returning back inside I got out of my winter clothes and headed for the bathroom to brush my teeth. I was already in my pajama bottoms and a tank top, so I was spared having to change. I half expected to find Richard asleep when I came back to the bedroom, but he was still awake, lying on his side under the duvet, focused on his phone. His jeans and shirt were thrown over a chair, but he'd kept his t-shirt on. Our empty wine glasses and candy wrappers were nowhere to be seen, and I guessed he'd done a quick tidying up as well. Sprocket curled up on his bed in the corner, and I crawled into bed under the duvet. Without even thinking I inched right up to Richard's back and wrapped an arm around him. Lately, we had become much closer to each other, not just mentally, but physically, those invisible lines that marked intimate space had become almost erased. My face felt awfully cold, and I nuzzled the back of his neck, relishing his warm skin.
“God, you're cold!” He squealed, but that was the only comment he made on me being so close, he just kept tapping away on his phone, writing texts.
“And you're warm,” I retorted, my voice muffled against his skin.
“Ron...” Richard began warningly, but with a hint of teasing in his voice. “If I'm not allowed to kiss you, then you are not allowed to do that. It makes me...” He paused and cleared his throat. “Excited.” Hardly being aware of what I had been doing, I froze: I had been brushing my mouth over the skin on the back of his neck, behind his ear, breathing softly against it.
“Oh, um... sorry,” I muttered and pulled away from him, feeling embarrassed. To hide my blushing cheeks I turned my back to him, picked up my own phone and tried to busy myself with it. After about a minute of silence, I heard what sounded like Richard putting his phone down on the nightstand, then I felt him shift behind me, and my heart skipped a beat as I felt him inch close to me and drape his arm over my side.
“I didn't say you had to move away, did I?” He said softly. His fingertips trailed down my arm, from my shoulder to my hand, then he interlaced his fingers with mine. I put the phone down, unable to concentrate on it anyway. “I like being held by you. And I like holding you," He admitted as he brushed the sides of his fingers against mine. Goosebumps erupted down my arms, I'm sure he could feel it. “I'm so glad I came here and spent the day with you instead of sitting with my family being miserable.” I felt his breath against the skin on my neck as he talked, and I wanted to just lean my head back a little, press my neck against his mouth, but I couldn't. I had made my decision.
“So being with me wasn't miserable? Even though I shouted at you, then told you my entire, tragic life story?”
“I asked you about your life story, didn't I? I'm glad you told me, it's nice to feel like you trust me as much as I trust you.”
“I do,” I mumbled, squeezing his hand a little.
“Is this okay?” His voice was barely a whisper as he caressed my fingers once more, asking permission to hold me.
“Yeah, it is. It feels nice,” I admitted, smiling to myself.
“Hmm, it does,” he hummed, his voice sounding drowsy already. Reaching out I found the switch for the bedside lamp and turned it off. For a while I laid there in the dark, not wanting to give in to sleep. I wanted to stay awake so I could enjoy being held by Richard, his arm wrapped tightly around me, his body pressed against the back of mine. But it was late, and was drunk, and Richard's presence, his embrace, and the steady sound of his breathing made it impossible for me to stay awake for long.

Chapter Text

I woke up to an empty bed, the duvet next to me lying in a heap, just like he had left it when he got out of bed. My heart sank to my stomach, then down through the mattress and onto the floor. Rolling onto my back I rubbed my face, already fighting against tears. I could imagine how he had woken up, probably with a hangover, and panicked about what had happened the night before. About kissing me. Or maybe because I had stopped him. Had he regretted the kiss? Or was he upset because I had pushed him away? These chaotic thoughts raced through my mind until a sound from within the house caught my attention. Listening intently I heard more sounds; someone was definitely in my kitchen. Half curious, half scared, I swung my legs out of bed and shuffled through the house. Richard was standing by the stove, focusing on the breakfast he was trying to make. Sprocket was sitting primly on the floor behind him, intently watching his every move.
“Look who's up! I wondered if you were ever going to wake up!” Richard smiled.
“What time is it?” I croaked, my voice still full of sleep.
“Half-past noon, missy!” He said cheerfully. “I thought I'd let you have a bit of a lie-in, you probably needed it.”
“That was more than 'a bit of a lie in',” I smirked and plonked myself down on a barstool by the kitchen counter.
“Sprocket and I are making breakfast, eggy bread. Sprocket is chief taster. He isn't being much use, really,” he jabbered on happily. “I woke up a while ago, was restless so I took him for a walk, then started on breakfast.”
“Wow... Thank you. You're... fantastic."
“Oh stop. Even you deserve something nice being done for you, especially at Christmas. And it's just breakfast,” he shrugged, turning back to the stove. I wanted to get up from my chair, go over and hug him, hold him close, and kiss him deeply. But I did not dare any of those things. Just because he kissed me last night, didn't mean he would want to today. He was drunk, so was I, and that was the reason why I pulled away, I had told him that. But I hadn't said I didn't want to be kissed by him, had I? “Earth to Ron!” A hand was waved in front of my eyes.
“Hm? Oh, sorry, I..”
“... you zoned out, yes I know, I know,” Richard nodded, chuckling. “Breakfast is ready. In bed?” He asked, holding up a plate of golden brown French toast smelling of cinnamon.
“Oh god, yes,” I groaned, snatching the proffered plate and taking off, giggling as I headed for the bedroom.
“Oi! Wait for me! Tea or coffee?!” He shouted after me.
“Tea!”

“I am actually a little bit in love with this toast,” I mumbled, mouth half-full of food. It was the last one, and I was already full but couldn't make myself stop eating, it was too good.
“I made that!” Richard stuck out his chest proudly.
“I think that makes me a little bit in love with you too.” With a pang I realized that that was probably true, and I immediately wanted to bury myself under the covers, at least just to hide the blush I was sure was creeping up my neck. Of all the days to make a glib remark like that.
“So the way to your heart is through your stomach?” He chuckled.
“One of them,” I answered mysteriously, still trying to fight the blush. “Shrek” was on the telly, and I pretended to turn my attention to it as I munched on my last bit of toast.
“What is it with you and green creatures? First the Grinch, now this,” Richard observed.
“Don't mock Shrek, I love Shrek! I AM Shrek! I'm a complicated onion with many layers, a grumpy loner, barricading myself in my metaphorical swamp, shouting at people who knock on my door,” I rambled dramatically.
“What does that make me? Donkey?” Richard raised a characteristic eyebrow.
“Yes. But you make eggy bread instead of waffles.” We both burst out laughing. "Really, you're not unlike Donkey."
“Shut up. Listen, my brother texted me earlier, wondering if I was coming over for Boxing day dinner. I really should go, I still feel kind of bad for leaving them yesterday...” Richard shrunk a little next to me, it was obvious that he hadn't been looking forward to telling me this. My heart sank again, I didn't want him to leave. But what did I expect, that he would stay with me for the rest of the holidays?
“Oh yeah, of course you should go, be with your family,” I shrugged, trying to hide my disappointment.
“I don't necessarily want to go, I just feel like I.. should,” he pointed out.
“Yeah, I know what you mean, you feel obligated. I understand. Do you think you'll be okay, being with them?” I asked, genuinely concerned.
“Yeah, I hope so. I mean, I have to be, eventually, they're my family, I just have to get used to being with them this way, you know? Now that my life has changed.”
“You said it yourself though, they're your family. Richard, they've known you all your life, even before you were married. Their views on you haven't necessarily changed? They probably just want to support you and be there for you, not judge you for having had a 'failed marriage'”. I drew quotation marks in the air around the term.
“You're probably right...” Richard conceded, nodding slowly. “What about you, though?”
“What about me?” I frowned.
“I don't like the thought of leaving you here all alone. Are you going to be all right?” His expression was full of genuine concern.
“Of course I will, Richard, I'm fine. Well, maybe not fine, but I'll manage."
“Are you sure? You could come with me, if you want, to the dinner..” He began.
“Oh god, Richard, no, I can't. I mean, they don't know me, they wouldn't want a perfect stranger at their dinner table. And I'm not so sure I would want to be there either, I mean... I'm sure they're nice people, but it would just be very awkward. Don't worry about me, Richard, I feel a lot better now than I did yesterday.”
“Yeah...?” He studied me intently from under strands of stray hair.
“Yeah. Despite how I reacted when I opened the door, you cheered me up a lot by coming here. You've made my Christmas better than it has been for years. So don't worry, you've done a lot for me.”
“All right,” Richard sighed, reluctantly deciding to believe me. “I have to get going soon, I have to drop by the house, get some more clothes and things, stop by and check on the dogs, too.”
“Oooh, the dogs! How are they? Are they with Kristin? How are the puppies!?”
“Yeah, they're at Kristin's. I feel bad for leaving them, the puppies are a handful, three weeks old. But she's assured me she loves taking care of them, and it really seems like she does.”
“You can't let me near them, Richard. You just can't, if you do I'll just keep all of them,” I warned him.
“I won't,” he giggled. Half an hour later I was in the hallway, watching as Richard put on his shoes. I was still wearing the same PJ bottoms I had been wearing when he arrived yesterday, and I felt like a disheveled slob. Lost in my own thoughts it took a moment for me to realize that Richard was just staring at me.
“What?” I frowned.
“Come here.” His voice was quiet and tender. He took a step closer, opened his arms, and my heart skipped several beats. Inwardly I was praying frantically that this was the moment when he would finally kiss me again, I'd been praying for it ever since I woke up. Willingly I walked into his arms, he hugged me tight, slowly caressing my back. I buried my face against his neck and shirt, taking in the smell of him again, clinging on to him. “Sure you'll be all right, Ron?”
“Mm,” I mumbled, too preoccupied with the embrace to give a more elaborate answer.
“Okay... But call me if you're not, yeah?” Richard admonished, pulling away enough to be able to look into my eyes. I nodded dutifully. My heart sank again when he took a step back, grabbed his coat off the hook on the wall, and slipped it on. “I'll call you later.” Another quick hug, and then he was gone.

What I told Richard was true; his visit did indeed cheer me up a lot and made me feel a lot less lonely. But the downside was that now that he was gone again, I felt more lonely than I ever had before. Not only that, but now I was also immensely confused about myself, about him, about my feelings, about everything. He hadn't mentioned the kiss with a single word before he left. Why not? Maybe he didn't remember? No, he wasn't that drunk. Was he embarrassed about it, and regretted it? Or had he just misunderstood me, and thought that I didn't want him to kiss me at all, that I wasn't interested? Or, maybe he was just as confused as me, and didn't quite know what to think? He was, after all, fairly recently divorced. These thoughts kept revolving in my head. But most of all I just missed him and wanted to be with him, no matter how confusing it was. He called me that night, after the family dinner, asking how I was doing. I was miserable and anxious, but of course, I didn't tell him that. He had enough on his mind, he didn't need more to worry about. We kept in touch on the phone for the rest of the holidays, checking in with each other, making sure the other was all right. How honest we were with our answers, I didn't know. I knew I wasn't. Richard invited me along to Jezza's for a New Year's Eve party. Naturally, I'd agreed to work New Year's Eve at the hospital, and I was genuinely upset when I had to tell him that I couldn't come, I had to work. Not only did I need the money, but there was no chance that I would be able to swap that shift, not this close to the actual date, and not on a big night like that. A night that was usually busy, so I didn't have the conscience to just not turn up either. Richard seemed a little disappointed, and so was I, another chance to become drunk with him was just what I wanted; I'd decided I wouldn't stop him this time.

My evening shift on New Year's turned out to be just as crazy as expected, and when I finally sank into my bed at 11 pm, having come home and walked Sprocket, I was ready to just roll over and sleep right through the racket of fireworks. 'Hamster' lit up on my phone, and I fully expected to hear loud chattering and music around him when I answered.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Ron. I figured your shift was probably over by now?”
“I.. yeah, it is, got home half an hour ago.”
“Was it as mad as you feared?”
“Completely batshit crazy,” I grumbled, then sighed heavily. “You wouldn't even believe some of the things I've seen tonight. Please tell me you're not sending up fireworks? You have a good face, don't let it be ruined by a MegaBomb 2000..!”
“No, no, noooo. Me and my face is staying far, far away from fireworks,” he answered hurriedly.
“Good Hamster. It's awfully quiet around you?”
“Yeah, I went upstairs, away from the racket. He's got a big house, Jezza. I wanted to call you before the mobile network goes down, it often crashes around midnight.”
“Aw, that was nice of you." I smiled to myself, blushing a little. “How is the party? Any good?”
“Yes it is, actually,” he replied, sounding a little relieved. “It's a lot better than the last time I went to a party, I can tell you that much. I'm actually having fun this time.”
“That's good!” I said, feeling a big twinge of jealousy. Maybe he felt it, heard it resonate through my voice because when he talked again his voice was a little different.
“I wish you were here, though, it would've been even better if you were here. At least I would've had someone to kiss at midnight.” He said this last sentence with mock resignation as if making a joke about it, but it still caused me to nearly swallow my tongue.
“Oh, you're surrounded by people, I'm sure you'll find someone,” I said comfortingly, trying to act normal. “I'm far worse off, I only have Sprocket!” At this, I heard him chuckling on the other end.
“Ew, don't kiss him, he has dog breath.”
“And you don't?” My smirk was audible in my voice.
“Oi! No, I do not!” He said, suddenly sounding like the tetchy, little man you would see on telly. Then his voice changed again. “No, seriously, though. I hate that you're alone right now. And I miss you.”
“I think it sucks, too,” I admitted, trying not to let my voice reveal how sad I really was, but I know I was doing a bad job of it. “I would've loved to be there. I miss you, too.”
“I'm sorry, I didn't call to make you sad. I just.. wanted to wish you a happy new year.”
“It's okay, I'm not sad,” I reassured him, which was a blatant lie. “Happy new year to you too, love. And say hi to everyone I know, yeah?”
“All right, I will. Talk to you next year, love.”

The new year came with a bout of flu that put a lot of my colleagues out of commission, meaning that I was suddenly very busy and could work around the clock if I wanted to. I made it over to Richard's a few times in early January to see the puppies, but after that, I didn't see him for an entire month. I was getting more shifts than I could handle, and with him going back to work he was suddenly busy too, and our schedules always seemed to overlap. Even my constant working wasn't enough to take my mind off how much I missed him. Ever since we became friends we had spent more and more time together, becoming very close to each other, and suddenly I never saw him anymore. What happened over Christmas made it even worse, because now I was so confused. It felt like we had started something and then just left it hanging in the air, unresolved.

I had barely heard from Richard for the past few weeks when my phone suddenly lit up one evening, displaying his name.
“Hey, are you home?” He asked when I pick it up.
“Yeah, I am. Why?”
“Can I drop by? I'm in the neighborhood of sorts.”
“Sure. I have to be up early though, early shift,” I added apologetically.
“I won't stay long, I just haven't seen you in forever,” he reassured me. “I'll be there in a bit.” A click and the phone went silent. I was aware of how my heart rate had sped up at the thought of seeing him again, what has it been, five or six weeks? I dashed out to the bathroom and sighed when I saw my own reflection in the mirror; my hair pulled up in an untidy bun with a clip, no make-up, wearing an almost worn-out t-shirt. Oh, what does it matter, he'd seen me like this more times than I could count. Shuffling back to the living room I barely had time to sit down on the sofa when there was a knock on my door.
“Wow, that was fast!” I said as I open the door. Richard's broad grin met me, and despite myself, I couldn't help it when an entire aviary of butterflies took off in my stomach.
“I've been down at the track, filming a review and some other things, I was halfway here when I called, hoping you were home,” he shrugged as he stepped inside and closed the door behind him. “Anyway, hello! I haven't seen you in ages!” Before I had time to react his arms closed around me, pulling me in for a hug.
“Gah, you're cold!” I squealed as his cheek hit mine, but I wasn't pulling back. Instead, I slipped my arms inside his unzipped jacket, feeling the warmth of him as I wrapped my arms around him. Far too soon he pulled back. “Want a cup of tea?”
“Sounds good.” He followed me into the living room where he was met by Sprocket. Richard immediately got down on his knees to greet him properly. “Hello, mate! Long time no see, eh? How are you, boy?” He scratcheed him vigorously behind the ears as he babbled. Sprocket waggled his tail and tried to lick Richard everywhere, happy to see him again. I left them to it and headed for the kitchen to quickly make tea for the both of us. When I returned to the living room Richard was sitting on the sofa, Sprocket curled up next to him. “Are you still working as much as you used to?” He asked, accepting the mug I was proffering him. I sank down next to him, cradling my own mug.
“What? No, not really. One of the nurses is out on sick leave for two months, she slipped and broke her wrist, so I've taken over her shifts. For the first time in ages, I actually know when my next shift is going to be, at least for the next two months or so, which is a definite improvement.”
“That's good. I was worried you were going to work yourself into the ground there for a while,” he admitted.
“It's a lot better, people aren't out sick constantly so we're not as undermanned anymore. But still, for me, this is just a temporary thing so I'm still searching for jobs.” Tired of the instability of my work situation, never knowing when the next shift was going to be, I had been frantically searching for a job since after new years, sending applications everywhere. I had been to a few interviews, in London and even in Oxford, which would put me a lot closer to Richard. I contemplated telling him about having been in Oxford for an interview, but for some reason, I decided not to.
“So, other than work, how's life? I haven't talked to you in weeks!” Richard said, turning a little in his seat to face me.
“Oh, life is... same as it's always been, really, nothing much happening,” I shrugged. “What about you?”
“Well, it's mostly been work for me too lately, first planning the new Top Gear season and now we've started filming it. Luckily I managed to get them to hold off on all the traveling until mid-march until the puppies have moved out.”
“Aw, the puppies! I'm so sorry I haven't been able to help you out more with them-” I began, but Richard waved me down.
“No, no, don't worry about it, I know you've been busy, and so have I.” To my relief, there was no trace of annoyance in his voice. “Kristin has practically moved into my house to look after them. She has grown very attached to them, so much that she says she wants to buy one of them. I thought we could just give it to her instead if that's okay with you?” Richard raised an inquisitive eyebrow.
“Yes, of course that's okay! She has helped out so much, she really shouldn't have to pay anything,” I agreed.
“Good. And I think we've found owners for the others as well, at least two of them,” he said with a smile.
“Great! I still wish I could've kept one of them, but I realize I can't when I'm alone and work the way I do,” I shrugged.
“I know. They take up a lot of your time in the beginning. I had forgotten just how much work puppies could be!” He said, rolling his eyes exasperatedly. A little silence fell as we both had a sip of our tea. “Oh, by the way, I had meant to tell you: I've started dating again!” Richard blurted out, suddenly remembering. He smiled happily, looking a little proud and excited.
“Wh-what?” I stammered, gaping at him. Hearing these words made my insides revolve, everything winding up in the wrong place. I could barely breathe. On the outside I rallied magnificently, hitching on a smile. “You kept that quiet!” I hastened to add in a jovial, teasing sort of way.
“Yeah, I just... wanted to see how things went before I told anyone, it still feels a little weird, you know, dating again, but... It feels nice, too. I met her at Jezza's New Years' eve party, I got her phone number, and we started talking...” Richard explained.
“See? I told you you'd find someone to kiss at midnight.” I heard my own voice, but it was like it was coming from outside my body. I couldn't understand how I managed to talk in such a light-hearted tone. Inside me there was absolute chaos, my heart was hammering and I felt genuinely nauseous.
“We went out on our first date in mid-January or something. I've been busy with work so I haven't had time to see her as much as I'd like, really. But it feels so bloody good to be having sex again!” He added with feeling. For a fleeting moment, I was certain that I would throw up, feeling like I had been punched violently in the stomach. 'It's official', I thought in the privacy of my own mind. 'I have been officially friend-zoned. Forever.'
“That is a very mean thing to say to someone who is involuntarily living the life of a nun! Rub it in, why don't you!” I was very surprised at my ability to keep up this charade, this jovial, friendly tone.
“Sorry, sorry!” Richard chuckled, showing his palms. I knew that I should probably ask questions at this point, about who she is, and what she is like, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. There was a limit to my hypocrisy, and the bottom line is that I didn't want to know. I had enough mental images as it was. I should also tell him that I'm happy for him, that I'm glad he's happy, something to that effect.
“And here you were, panicking about being alone for the rest of your life,” I finally managed to scoff, knowing it was the only thing I would be able to say with any sort of sincerity.
“I know, I know... Ridiculous, right?” He sighed, looking a little embarrassed.
“Obviously.” Another silence fell, and I didn't attempt to break it. I didn't feel like keeping up my part of the conversation, suddenly I had no idea what to even talk to him about.
“Listen, if you have a day or two off around a weekend you should come up to my place, see the puppies before they leave. We could probably take out the ATVs soon, too!” He said excitedly.
“Yeah, I should do that,” I lied with a smile. “I think I'm working most weekends though, I don't know, I'll check my calendar.” Richard placed his now empty mug on the table, then gave me a long, hard look. I squirmed under that look, worried that he was sensing something is up.
“Ron... I'm worried you're working yourself too hard,” he said sincerely, his hand now on my knee. I wanted to take his hand away, pull away from him, it was the first time I felt like I didn't want him to touch me. “You look... a little tired.” Gee thanks. Come here and tell me about your new girlfriend, then tell me I look like shit.
“You're right, I probably am,” I admitted, straightening up and setting my own cup down, moving my leg away from his hand at the same time. “Probably not quite caught up on sleep. I'll be fine though, I have a schedule now, I know when my next shift is, which will give me a chance to catch up on some rest.”
“All right. Anyway, I better get going, give you a chance to get some sleep if you have an early shift tomorrow.”
“Yeah, okay.” On a normal day, I would've told him that he could stay a little longer if he wanted to, but not today. I wanted him to leave, mostly because I didn't know for how much longer I could keep it together. As Richard headed for the door I trailed after him, keeping my distance. Having put his shoes and jacket on, he straightened up a little and looked at me. For a moment I felt like he was going to say something, or at least wanted to say something, but he had no idea what.
“See you soon, yeah?” There was the tiniest trace of uncertainty in his voice.
“Yeah,” I nodded, making an effort to smile at him one more time. He made an odd jerking movement, as if he wanted to move closer, maybe give me a hug, but instantly thought better of it. That little twitch made my heart sink. Because it made me sure he had understood everything, what was going on, why I was acting so strange. Or maybe he thought that he better stop hugging me and being so close to me, now that he had a girlfriend. “Drive safe, yeah? And say hi to the puppies from me,” I smiled, trying to add a modicum of normalcy to the conversation.
“I will,” he said, returning my smile. “Bye, Ron.” And just like that, he was out of the door. Like a zombie, I shuffled into my bedroom and sank down on the bed. My first feeling was one of having been used. There was no other word for it. When I started spending time with Richard he was in a bad place. He had tried so hard to hide it, not wanting to burden me, but in the end, he had broken down. And I decided to be there for him. I could have chosen not to, he didn't force me to or expect me to do that, but I was anyway. And I had 'held him together' as he called it. And now that he felt better, now that I had helped fix him, he decided to just... move on, find someone else to be happy with. Somehow that felt unfair. I helped him through the rough times, and someone else got to be with him during the good times. I had been stupid though, I realized that now. Because while I had been there for him, supporting him, I had let myself grow too attached to him, gotten way too close. Just like Jeremy had warned me about. The fact that he opened up to me, trusted me, resulted in me doing the same with him; I opened up too, told him my story. It was as vulnerable as I had ever made myself towards another human being in a long, long time. And it had felt good, at the time. Now it felt awful, like he wasn't worthy of the trust. I couldn't shake this feeling of having been lured into something under false pretense. Part of me thinks that was perhaps unfair. Richard never made any promises to me. But he did kiss me. And we had been flirting, hadn't we? Hugged and held each other and slept in each other's arms. We had kissed, and I had only put a stop to it because I was worried that we weren't thinking clearly. But that kiss ruined our friendship anyway; it had made me more aware of my feelings for him, and led me to believe that he might have feelings for me too. And now, a month and half later, just to prove how wrong I had been, he was dating someone else. And I don't even know how to be friends with him anymore. With a pang, I realized that it had probably been a while since I regarded Richard as just a friend. For a while it had felt like it was just me and him, we seemed to be spending most of our time together outside of work, enjoying each other's company. But now there was someone else, someone he would rather spend his time with, someone who got to be close to him both physically and mentally. An image of him kissing someone else flashed across my mind, and the jealousy stabbed through me like a hot knife. Tears were stinging in my eyes while angry thoughts raced through my consciousness. 'I thought he was mine. I thought he wanted me.' Ever since I had met Richard, I hadn't felt lonely the way I used to. I'd had someone I had a real connection with. And I had felt like he cared about me in return. I had just been mistaken about how much. I knew that I would lose my connection to him now, and I would be back to feeling lonely again. That thought, more than any other, was what caused me to start crying. I missed him already. I had been confused before, but it had been a good kind of confusion, an expectant one. Now I knew for sure, and I wished I could go back to being confused because then I at least had some hope.

Chapter Text

A few weeks of misery passed by. I didn't hear much from Richard apart from the odd text, which didn't surprise me, and it was just as well, really. Texts I could deal with, it was easy to lie and pretend that everything was normal in a text message. I pretended like I was dealing with it, that I was processing and adapting, but truth be told I had no idea how to deal with any of this. What was going on had so many sides to it, so many different reasons for upsetting me, and I kept cycling through them all. I felt rejected, like he didn't want me after all and chose someone else over me. Or maybe he never wanted me in the first place. That thought made me feel like a fool for ever having believed that he was interested in me, like I blew that little kiss and everything else completely out of proportion. But on the other hand, maybe it wasn't so strange that I had thought he might be? The way he had acted, the things he said? Apart from the fact that I just simply missed my best friend, I felt abandoned.

I was surprised when Richard actually did call me, a few weeks after his surprise visit to my house.
“Ron, I know you're busy and everything, but are you working this weekend? I need someone to watch the puppies, Kristin has gone to her sister's for the weekend and I have a date, I haven't seen her for a while because of work and she's..” I zoned out at this point, not interested in hearing anymore. Part of me wanted to just hang up, or at least say no immediately, I didn't feel like doing him any favors, especially not when it enabled him to go on a bloody date. But on the other hand, it was a good opportunity to spend some time with the babies before they all went off to their new homes, without having to spend much time with Richard. That and my guilty feelings for having helped out so little with them are the only reasons I said yes to babysitting. Richard said he'd be leaving around 4.30pm but added that I was welcome to come by earlier because he'd be home all day anyway. Of course I turned up at exactly 4.25 pm, rambling about having had a night shift and the traffic being a bit mad. More lies. I hated lying to him, but right now it was all I could do. I couldn't be honest, and I had to keep up the wall I had built around myself and my feelings for him. I was grateful when he did indeed leave five minutes later, in his turn rambling on about not wanting to keep the lady waiting, he'd barely seen her lately blah blah. I zoned out again and disinterestedly waved him off. Richard had already walked the dogs, so instead, I focused on the puppies, letting them have some playtime with their dad, feeding them, taking them out, and then going back to playing with them until they were all pooped out and fell asleep on top of each other. If playing with puppies could be bottled it should be sold as antidepressants. When the babies were all out for the count, I curled up in what was normally Richard's favored armchair with a book. Sprocket, completely disregarding his actual size, crawled in after and somehow manages to fit on my lap, turning himself into my bookstand. I had been completely addicted to books lately; when I wasn't at work I read, and when I was out walking Sprocket I listened to audiobooks, as I hadn't mastered the art of walking and reading simultaneously. I knew why I was doing this, keeping myself occupied with stories about other worlds, living the lives of fictional characters instead of having to face my own life. Disassociating was the technical term, I think. If I didn't read, if I let the silence take over, it gave room to all the bad feelings; loss, longing, sadness, and loneliness. Those feelings were still there, occupying all my thoughts in those moments when I let my mind wander; in the shower in the mornings, in bed at night, on my way to work. Eventually, I fell asleep there, in that chair, in the middle of a chapter. Sprocket's sudden disappearance from my lap, along with a happy bark, wrenched me out of my deep sleep. The first thing I heard was what sounded like a female giggle, and I frowned confusedly. Was the telly on? Then I heard it again, a coy and flirty giggle coming from the hallway, followed by Richard's soft chuckling. A quick glance at the clock told me it was nearly midnight. He had promised to be home around ten. And he definitely hadn't said anything about bringing his date home. I was already nauseous at the thought of having to greet her. Why did he have to do this to me? Should I just stay here, in this chair, pretending to be asleep? Hopefully, they would just let me sleep and go to bed. That way I could sneak out of here while they're... busy. The instant that thought flit through my head, I knew that option was out of the question. I couldn't stay in this house. What I wanted to do most of all was just sneak out through the dog's room or something, but Sprocket was in the hallway. With a sigh I got out of the chair and headed toward the hallway, knowing there was no way around it. Might as well get it over with. Sprocket was there, happily greeting his familiar mate and this new human. She was about Richard's height, slim, athletic-looking, with long, wavy blonde hair. Of course, she's absolutely stunning.
«Ooh, there you are. Sorry, sorry I'm late, we just lost track of time!» Richard babbled the instant he spotted me in the doorway. I couldn't help but notice his slightly disheveled hair and how one of his shirt buttons was in the wrong buttonhole. 'Lost track of time, my arse...' I grumble inwardlyd, feeling another wave of nausea. His date noticed me too, freezing a little in her tracks. «Jasmine, this is Ronja. Ron, meet Jasmine.» He gestured between us a little awkwardly. I approached her with an outstretched hand and shook it briefly. 'Jasmine? Really? Sounds like a posh prostitute's name.'
«Hello, I'm Ronja, I'm the babysitter, as it were,» I said, forcing a smile. Right now I didn't even feel like calling myself his friend, right now I was just the dog watcher.
«Oh come off it,» Richard said with a happy scoff. «She's more like my best mate, really.» The smile on Jasmine's face faded a little, maybe she disliked the fact that Richard's best mate was a girl. Or maybe she was sensing the tension in me.
«Nice to meet you, Ronja. You'll have to excuse me, I have to go to the ladies' room,» she said and disappeared upstairs, obviously having been here before.
«Really, sorry for being so late,» Richard repeated quietly the moment she was out of earshot, looking like an apologetic schoolboy waiting for a good scolding.
«Didn't know it had gotten so late, I fell asleep in the chair,» I yawned nonchalantly, trying to hide my annoyance.
«Listen, you can just stay here if you want to, it's really late to be driving home, and I don't want you to fall asleep at the-» he began.
«No,» I said, louder than I had meant to. «Believe me, that isn't necessary. I'll be fine, I've had a long nap now.» Richard opened his mouth to argue, but shut it again, having picked up on the finality in my voice. «The pups all conked out around eight, I wore them out, they should stay asleep for a long while. Might be an idea to take them outside for one last wee, though,” I said as I put on my shoes and slipped on my jacket, eager to leave before Jasmine reappeared.
«Thanks...» he mumbled, fiddling with his hands again. It seemed like he was feeling bad for having been home late, and maybe even for having made me come face to face with Jasmine. And I couldn't help but feel some vindictive pleasure if he did.
«All right, then.» Not knowing what else to say I decided to just leave. Just as I grabbed the doorknob, I felt Richard grasping my free hand, holding me back. I froze, my back to him, hand still on the doorknob, reluctant to face him again. What would my face reveal if I did? His fingers interlaced with mine, just like they had done on Christmas day. This intimate way of touching me made me nauseous with equal parts anger and sadness. Why the hell would he touch me like this, now? With his girlfriend upstairs? He tugged at my hands, forcing me to turn around. I had to swallow hard, and I completely avoid his eyes, if I looked into his I'd break down crying.
«Ron... sure you'll be all right?» His hand squeezed mine, and I couldn't help but wonder if there was something more to his question. Was he just worried about me being tired and driving home this late? Or was it something else, something deeper?
«I'll be fine,» I repeated flatly, wringing my hand out of his grasp. Before he had a chance to say anything else I wrenched open the door and marched outside, heading for my car. Sprocket lumbered after me, and I let him into his crate in the back of the car.
“Send me a text when you're home safe, yeah?” Richard asked as I wrenched open the door on the driver's side. He was leaning nonchalantly against the door frame, mostly a silhouette against the light from the hallway.
“You won't have time to read it anyway.” Then I got in and drove off.

After that, I didn't see him for over two months. He kept in touch, mostly by texts, and from what he was writing he was indeed busy; traveling everywhere for shoots and preparing for the new Top Gear season. And whenever he popped back home for a bit it was obvious that Jasmine was the one he prioritized. In my replies to him my tone was as neutral as possible. Part of me just wanted to push him away completely, remove him from my life. But then I'd maybe have to be honest with him, tell him everything, and I still couldn't bring myself to do that. Maybe I could manage to just slowly fade out of his life while he was preoccupied with work and his girlfriend. I still felt like it was my own damn fault, if I had just managed to keep the reigns on my feelings I would still be able to be friends with him. A few times he asked if I want to come over, but I had work, either that day or the next morning. More lies, really. I was angry with him, and I didn't know if I would be able to be around him without showing it. Or if I even wanted to be around him. Having to meet Jasmine had made me feel very humiliated, for some reason, and that still lingered. But still, I missed Richard, and I felt like I shouldn't, like he didn't deserve me missing him. But I did, I missed spending time with him, and I wondered what I used to do on my days off and on the weekends before I met him.

My annoying ringtone jerked me out of my state of near-sleep. At first, I thought it was my alarm, and that it must be morning already. But I felt like I had just put my head on the pillow, it couldn't be morning already? Then I realized my alarm sounded different, and this must be the phone ringing. I blindly fumbled for the phone and picked it up without checking who it might be, I was too tired to read what the screen said anyway.
«Muh.. hello?» I mumbled.
«Oh god, did I wake you? But it's only 8 pm!» Richard's voice sent a jolt through my body, suddenly I was a hundred percent awake. I hadn't heard his voice in over eight weeks now, and the sound of it sent my heart down to my knees. Why did I pick it up? Why didn't I just read the name on the screen and decide not to?
«Yeah, I um... pulled a double yesterday, evening and then night shift... Slept just three hours this morning, am a bit knackered...” I explained, rubbing an eye, my voice thick with sleep.
“I'm so sorry, Ron! I didn't mean to wake you!” He sounded sincerely sorry.
“I know, don't worry, if I wanted peace that badly I wouldn't have picked up, I guess,” I grumbled. My habit of always being a little too nice came from my nursing career. Inwardly I was wishing I had done just that; not picked up.
“I'll keep it short, I just wanted to ask you when are your next two consecutive days off?”
“I um.. let me think... This weekend? No wait, I work Sunday. Friday to Saturday, then.”
“Perfect! Do you have any plans?”
“Er... no, no plans.” I was too tired to come up with a lie.
“Then you are coming up to my place,” he said in such a way that I knew there was no point in even thinking of arguing.
“... Sure, okay, whatever,” I agreed, not really seeing how I could do anything else.
“I just... I haven't seen you in over two months... And I need to talk to you.” His voice was more mellow now, sad with a hint of pleading. "I miss you," he added quietly.
“Two months? Really...?”As if that fact came as a surprise to me and wasn't something I was painfully aware of. “Well, I... I miss you too,” I admitted, almost reluctantly. But at least it was true, and it felt nice to be able to say something truthful to him for once. Maybe it was about time I see him, see how it would feel this time around.
“Great. Can't wait to see you. Now get some sleep. Sorry for waking you. Nite nite.” A click and the phone went black. I slumped back on the bed with a loud groan. This would ruin my entire week.

On the way to his house, I contemplated a million apologies and escape plans, sudden onset of a migraine, the stomach flu, or some disaster at the hospital. But I had to see him sometime, even I knew that. Despite not having been at Richard's house for months, Sprocket went mental the moment he recognized the driveway and realized where we were headed. Hearing my car pulling up in the driveway, Richard opened the door and released the pack, making Sprocket even more excited. I had to get him out of the crate as soon as possible before he actually hurt himself on it. I couldn't help but smile as I watched the incredibly happy and boisterous reunion, they were nearly jumping over each other in excitement. As Richard came closer I hurriedly got down on one knee, busying myself with greeting his dogs, putting some distance between myself and him.
“Hey, you..” Richard came to a halt several feet away from me, gauging me a little warily.
“Hey. Long time, no see,” I replied, scratching Captain behind the ear, making a brave attempt at smiling. Normally we would have given each other a hug at this point, but it didn't feel natural anymore. But the absence of it was definitely noticeable, making things awkward.
“I'm glad you hadn't forgotten where I live..” He said quietly, a crooked smile appearing on his face.
“Sprocket sure hasn't, he was yowling non-stop the last five minutes of the drive up here,” I retorted, wanting to shift the focus away from myself, and the fact that we hadn't seen each other for so long.
“Maybe we should just take them for a walk right away? Let them blow off some steam?” Richard suggested. Just the fact that he asked this question demonstrated how things had changed between us. Because walking the dogs the moment I arrived had become a habit for us, so much that I just parked my car and we automatically started walking, dogs bounding ahead of us.
“Sure,” I nodded, getting to my feet. We meandered down the path we usually took, neither of us saying a word. It didn't take long before the awkward silence drove Richard to speak, grasping at the first subject he could think of.
“So, you managed to catch up on some sleep then?”
“Huh, what?” I frowned, thinking for a moment before I remembered our last conversation on the phone. “Oh, yeah, I did. It was just... Someone called in sick like an hour before the night shift starts, it's hopeless to find anyone on such short notice so I just had to pull a double. Haven't done that in months and months, though.”
“Good. You work too much, you always have,” he observed.
“Only periodically."
“Sorry for waking you, it's just that adults are normally awake at 8 o'clock at night.”
“I said don't worry about it. I picked up, didn't I?” Silence fell again, and this time I felt like it was my turn to keep up the conversation. “So Teegee is back to her old self, I see?” She was running around with the others, playing and acting just like she had done before she had the pups.
“Yeah, more or less. She was a bit mopey the first few days after the last pup had left, but she got over it with some extra cuddles. She sees one of her sons quite often, though, the one we gave to Kristin. She named him Pirate.”
“That's good. Pirate... I like that name.” Silence fekk once again, and this time it lasted for a long time. It's heavy and oppressive, bursting with unspoken words and questions. When Richard spoke again, his voice was completely changed.
“Ron, I know you're angry with me.” It wasn't a question or a guess, he was simply stating an inarguable fact. I froze in my tracks to look at him, but I couldn't get myself to contradict him, or to say anything at all for that matter. The way he said it, there seemed to be no point. Instead, I started walking again. Richard followed but stayed a few steps behind me. “And frankly you have every right to be, I can't blame you for that. I know I owe you an apology.” I kept walking. My mind was working furiously. Why did he think I was angry with him? What did he know, or think he knew? “You and I, we... were together all the time, we spent so much time together. And you have done so much for me, you were always there for me when I needed you, no matter what I needed. You helped me through a very tough time, and... You know, I hate those people who forget their friends the minute they meet someone. I don't want to be that person. Since I met Jasmine I've barely seen you. We've both been busy working, but still, I could've made time to see you more, and- Ron, could you at least stand still when I'm trying to apologize to you!?” He raised his voice now, and his hand closed around my wrist, holding me back. Taking a deep breath I forced myself to look at him. Brown, kind eyes meet mine, full of regret. “Ronja... I've acted like a right prick to you, I know that. You're my best friend. In some ways, I think you're even more than that, and I don't even know what that means. But I haven't been much of a friend to you lately, I've just been selfish and too caught up in my own life. I'm sorry, Ron, I'm sorry that I haven't been around lately. I miss you, I miss being with you.” Richard's eyes flitted between mine and the ground a few times and he shifted awkwardly, wringing his hands nervously. A mixture of feelings tumbled through me, fighting for dominance. I was still angry with him. But he hadn't understood all the reasons why I was, and for that, I felt a weird sense of relief. Mostly I was surprised that he had understood anything at all, and that he was taking on so much of the blame for us not having seen each other lately, because I knew I was probably equally to blame. I had avoided him as much as I could, mostly by making up non-existent shifts. Obviously, he felt very bad about everything, and I didn't doubt him for a second when he said that he missed me. A little wave of vindictiveness stabbed through me, and I abruptly turned away from him and start walking again.
“Yes, I am angry with you, you're right about that,” I began, not really sure what to say next. I expected some sort of instant reply, an excuse, or more apologies, but nothing came. Just silence. And I kept walking, finding that I enjoyed keeping him hanging.
“... And?” He prompted eventually, expecting me to say more. He almost sounded eager, as if he wanted to get the tirade over with.
“You've been an awful friend. I mean, really despicable.”
“Yes, I know...” I was still walking, back turned against Richard, but I can hear the remorse in his voice.
“I debated not coming up here today, I thought of every conceivable excuse not to, really,” I continue ruthlessly.
“I'm really glad you came-” Richard began, but I cut him off.
“But you're wrong about one thing, though.”
“Oh?” There was a glimmer of hope in his voice.
“You haven't been a prick.”
“... No?” Hope was suddenly mixed with incredulity.
“You've actually been more of a... massive wanker, really.”
“Well, yeah, I guess...” He mumbled, an edge of defensiveness in his voice now.
“No, I mean a really gigantic asshat-” I trundled on, sizing up just how big of an asshat he had been with my hands.
“YES ALL RIGHT!” He finally snapped, shouting loudly at the back of my head. Once again I froze in my track, so suddenly that Richard almost bumped into me. Spinning around on my heels I shot him a murderous stare. “What?” He challenged defensively.
“I don't know! I can't think of what else to say! But I still want to shout at you!” I yelled stupidly.
“All right, fine, shouting is fine, I can deal with shouting, you've earned it,” Richard conceded, showing his palms. Breathing heavily I clenched up my fists, a million thoughts were racing in my head but I couldn't choose which one to scream at him first.
“You made me feel really used, do you know that? I was good enough to be your friend when you were a miserable tosspot, but as soon as you felt okay you just fucked off!” At this Richard just nodded shamefully, averting his eyes. “I hate that, I hate being the one who is only good enough to listen to the misery of others! I refuse to be that person! If that's all I'm good for, then leave me alone, because then we're not mates.” More meek nodding from Richard. “And I missed you too, you know, even though you hardly deserve it. You say you missed me, but at least you had someone. I only have you, which is so bloody pathetic. Why do you always make me feel so fucking pathetic?!”
“You're not--” Richard began, but I've had it, I couldn't take it anymore. Tears burst from my eyes the moment I turned away from him, and my instinct was, as ever, to hide it. I began walking away from him, hoping he'll let me go, or at least stay behind me. But I was not the only one who has had enough. “Will you stop running away from me when you start crying!” He commanded loudly. For the second time, his hand closed around my wrist, harder than before, pulling me around to face him once again. I shut my eyes tight, hung my head, anything to hide away from him, hating myself for crying over him, in front of him. I felt arms closing around my shoulder, pulling me closer. Dropping the last of my defenses I buried my face against his sweater, taking in the scent of him for the first time in months and months. “Ron, we've both seen each other cry, it's normal. Crying isn't pathetic. And you're not pathetic. If anyone is pathetic here it's me, because I've been such an idiot to my best friend.” His voice was calm and soothing.
“Wanker,” I mumbled against his shoulder.
“Yes, yes, wanker, all right, I've been a wanker.” he repeated resignedly, and I couldn't help but smirk to myself through my tears. “I really am sorry, Ron.”
“Good,” I mumbled, my crying already abating. My hands had been hanging limply by my side, but now I wrapped them around him. “How long have you known I've been angry with you?”
“I don't know. A while. You're not as good at hiding your feelings as you think you are.”
“So you've just been avoiding me because you know I've been angry with you?” At this question I felt how he froze, realizing that he had probably just made everything worse. I raised my head off his shoulder and meet a pair of terrified, pleading eyes. I smiled weakly at him, and he relaxed a little.
“You're enjoying this too much,” he grumbled, pretending to be offended.
“A little,” I nodded, cocking my head at him.
“Come on, let's start heading back. I'll make us dinner and we'll get plastered,” he suggested flippantly, turning and heading down the direction where we came, calling the dogs to follow.
“Throwing a Sainsbury's pie in the oven does not constitute 'cooking',” I said, following him.
“Crap.”
“I'm still angry with you.”
“I know," he sighed, reaching out and finding my hand.

Chapter Text

The walk back to the house passed mostly in silence. A little part of me just wanted to forgive him then and there, because I had been driving myself mad missing him. After having had a lengthy discussion with myself, I concluded that I had basically forgiven him for the things he had apologised for. But the fact that he started dating someone, and the jealousy that brought with it, still really hurt. And I needed time to work on that. If I even could, or would ever be able to get past it. Returning to Richard's house we fed the dogs before trailing into the kitchen, where Richard poured two glasses of wine and handed me one. While he started pulling out pots and pans, knives and various food items, I sat down on a barstool by the kitchen counter and slowly sipped my wine. It seemed like spaghetti with meat sauce, salad and garlic bread is on the menu. It took a long while before he dared to point out my evident lack of helpfulness.
“You're not going to help me one bit, are you.” It was more of a statement than a question, really, he already knew the answer. I looked up at him with an uncomprehending air. He answered by holding out a bell pepper and a knife.
“Are you sure you want to give me a knife right now?” I raised an inquisitive eyebrow at him. He looked down at the knife, up at me again, then hurriedly retracted the knife, shaking his head.
“No, no, no, you just... enjoy your wine, it's fine, I don't need help,” he reassured me. “In fact, I don't want help! You just sit right there! Want more wine?” He babbled, pouring more into my glass, looking skittish and nervous. I hid my amused grin by taking another sip. Keeping him on edge was turning out to be a little fun. The rest of the dinner preparations passed with minimum conversation while Richard discreetly plied me with wine.
“Was it good?” He asked, gesturing to the food when we had finished eating.
“Your offering of food does not displease me,” I answered coolly, still keeping up my act of cold, passive-aggressive anger, an act I knew that he was probably seeing right through anyway.
“Oh boy,” he sighed. “You're not making this easy on me, Ron...” He seemed genuinely worried now, and that took me by surprise.
“Making what easy..?” My stomach did a lurch.
“I should tell you something, Ron, and... I have no idea how you'll react to it, so I decided to wait until... Well, until there wouldn't be any sharp knives or heavy pans in the immediate vicinity.”
“I have a fork?” I pointed out, lifting it from the plate questioningly, but then I immediately regretted it and put it back down. “I'm sorry, this sounds really serious. What is it?”
“It's just that... I want you to know that Jasmine and I, we're..” At this point, he hesitated for only a fraction of a second, but it gave me more than enough time to go into panic mode. Oh god, what now? Were they moving in together? Having a child? Getting married? Nausea threatened to overwhelm me again. “We're not seeing each other anymore...” Before I even had time to react to this, Richard launched into explanations. “And I'm worried that you'll just get even angrier with me now because maybe you'll think that I've only invited you here and apologised to you because I'm not seeing her anymore, because I have time for you now, or... something. Or that I only want to spend time with you now that I've gotten single and miserable again. And none of that is true. I would have sought you out and apologised to you no matter what. Even if I was still seeing her, that wouldn't have changed anything, I still meant everything I said earlier. I was being a wanker, and I have really missed- ” Richard babbled on nervously.
“Whoa whoa, Richard, sh-sh-sh, that's enough, stop!” I raised my hands and he shut up. Now that he had stopped ranting and I had his attention, I didn't really know what to say. My first instinct was to be incredibly relieved he was single again. But what did that change? Maybe he'd never see me as more than just a friend anyway? Realising that I was holding up the fork again, I hurriedly put it down.
“Richard, relax. I'm not going to skewer you with cutlery. But... If you hadn't said all that, I probably would've thought exactly that. But now I don't,” I shrugged.
“I... Thank you, Ron,” Richard said quietly. In the silence that followed I felt like I should say something.
“I'm... I'm sorry you broke up,” I mumbled, very half-heartedly.
“No, you're not. And you don't have to be. I'm fine with it, really.” Richard waved me down, sounding sincere. “Besides, I didn't get you here so that you could counsel me through this breakup. You've been my counsellor more than enough.”
“No, I know that,” I nodded. “But still.”
“Thanks.” After that I helped Richard tidy up after dinner, feeling bad for having been a little hard on him. But something had shifted between us now, the air was clearing up a little and we found it easier to be ourselves again. By the time the kitchen was cleared and we sat down in the living room with a fresh wine glass each, we were both giggling, things were starting to feel normal again.
“Richard?”
“Mm?”
“Can I ask why you stopped seeing each other? I mean, you seemed pretty happy with things...” The question kept cropping up in my thoughts.
“Ron, we really don't have to talk about this,” he began.
“No, I know. And you don't have to if you don't want to. I was just.. curious, I guess,” I said with a shrug. He studied me for a while, thinking.
“It just.. wasn't working. I liked spending time with her, but I didn't have any proper... feelings for her, I guess? It had just gone on long enough, it was time to end it before it got... serious. Because I realised I wasn't interested in it becoming serious, really.”
“So... She was the rebound,” I summarized. Richard frowned, as if I had accused him of something horrible, but then he gave it a second thought and slowly started nodding.
“As awful as that sounds, you're probably right...” He admitted. “You know what is even worse? I don't even really know why I dated her. I mean, she was attractive and everything, but beyond that, I'm not really sure. It just felt like... people were expecting me to start dating again, get back on the horse sort of thing. And then she was just... there, and interested.”
“We do a lot of stupid things because of what other people might think,” I said sagely. “Maybe you couldn't have done it any other way? Maybe dating someone you didn't have any serious feelings about was the only way to get back into it? Dating someone you had actual feelings for... Perhaps that would've been too scary?” I mused, having a moment of rare insight.
“That might be a very good point, actually,” Richard mumbled, staring into his wineglass. The mood had become serious again, and I didn't want it to, not now that things had just become light and fun again.
“Okay, just so you know; if I ever agree to watch the dogs again while you go on a date, you better not come home several hours late because you can't resist the urge to stop on the way home to have a lengthy shag in the car.” At this Richard looked at me in surprise, then laughed loudly, screwing up his eyes. and I couldn't help but laugh with him.
“Oh god, was it that obvious?” He flinched, looking like he was bracing for a smack in the face.
“Richard, not one of your shirt buttons was in the right buttonhole. Not one! And your hair looked like a wig put on back-to-front! It doesn't take Sherlock to figure that one out.” Richard screwed up his eyes again and threw his head back, guffawing with laughter.
“All right, all right, it won't happen again, I promise, cross my heart,” Richard swore, placing his hand over his heart, still giggling.
“Which car did you use again? Just for reference, because I am never setting foot in that particular car ever again.”
“Um... The Porsche,” he said after a moment of reminiscing.
“Gooood, it had to be the Porsche, didn't it? I love that car!” More laughs from Richard. I loved this, I loved being able to make him smile and giggle like a little boy. “Also, I didn't really like her,” I added flippantly, which sent Richard into another fit of childish chuckles.
“No, of course you didn't!”
"And what was with that name, Jasmine?" I pulled a face of disgust as I said her name. "Sounds like a nickname a posh prostitute would choose for herself.”
"Ronja, now you're being mean," he admonished, but chuckled despite himself.
"Also, She was too pretty! That doesn't work for me. You can't have girlfriends who are prettier than me. I just made that a new rule,” I nodded.
“Okay, I promise I'll bring the next one to you for approval before I actually date her. For the record, she wasn't prettier than you.”At this comment, my heart plummeted down into my stomach. Really?
"So you think cheap flattery will make me like you again?" I ask with a raised eyebrow, trying to hide the blush creeping up my neck from his last comment.
"Um... Yes?" He says hopefully. "Is it working?"
"Hmm... Maybe."

The rest of the evening was filled with lots of laughter, and it was past midnight when we decided to call it a night. Going to bed in the guest room I felt happier and lighter than I had in a month; the evening had felt like the old times I had missed so desperately. Crawling into the big, comfy bed I left the light on and picked up my iPad, playing a game on it. I needed some time to wind down before I went to sleep; take time to process a little. I got so caught up in my game that I forgot about time until I heard Richard's footsteps shuffling by my door, which was half-open so I could hear the dogs in the morning if they needed a wee. He shuffled past, probably heading for the kitchen for a drink. After a while, I heard his footsteps returning, and then stopping by my door.
“Can't sleep?” Busy with my game, I only threw a quick glance at him leaning against the door frame. He was wearing a pair of plaid pyjama bottoms, but no shirt and his hair was a little tousled. Right then he was the sexiest man I had ever seen. Worried I was going to blush furiously, my eyes snapped back to the screen.
“No, this is how I sleep, actually, with my eyes open, tapping away at an iPad,” I answered sarcastically. He ignored my snide remark.
“Can I come in?” His question was a little timid. I threw him another quick glance, immediately realising that I wouldn't be able to say no for all the money in the world.
“Yeah, all right.” I had my eyes glued to the iPad as he shuffled across the floor. The feel of the mattress changed a little as he lied down behind me. A long silence passed, and I didn't dare put down the iPad or even turn around. I had no idea what I might say or do if I did. “So, why aren't you sleeping? Miss your girlfriend?” I asked, keeping my voice as neutral as possible.
“What? Oh, no, no, I don't actually. Weeeell, I miss the-” He began, but I am quick to cut him off.
“Ah-ah-ah! Don't even go there or I will make you sleep in the dog room.” Richard quickly shut up, and then giggled.
“Okay, all right. Sorry. And why aren't you sleeping?”
“Because I'm hooked on this damn game,” I mumbled, which was at least partly true.
“What are you even playing?” I felt the mattress moving again as he inched closer to look over my shoulder. I could feel his body, his chest against my back, and I swallowed hard, my heart speeding up.
“It's this puzzle game, it's called Flux. You have to find objects hidden in these scenes, and use the objects to solve puzzles.” My breath hitched in my throat as I felt his chin against the side of my neck as he looked at the screen curiously from over my shoulder. After staring at it for a while he wrapped his arm around me to point at an object on the screen that I had been looking for.
“There maybe?”
“Thanks.” We stayed like that for a good while, Richard getting caught up in the game too. Whenever he wasn't pointing at the screen, his arm was draped around me, and I was torn between loving and hating it. This was too easy, just going back to this, wasn't it? I was supposed to be mad with him, why did I even let him into this room? “Oh god, I can't start another chapter of this,” I said eventually, turning off the game and putting down the iPad. Richard hurriedly retracted his arm and retreated to a more sober distance. I turned over on the bed to face him. He was lying under the duvet, looking back at me as if he was expecting to be thrown out of the bed at any moment. I tried to remind myself that he kissed me, then started dating someone else, and how much it had hurt me. But now that he was here, lying next to me, looking at me with his beautiful brown eyes, I wasn't able to hang on to that anger. “You never answered me why you can't sleep,” I pointed out.
“I was worried you were going to kill me in my sleep.”
“So keep your friends close, but your enemies closer?” I raised an eyebrow at him, eyeing the space between us in the bed.
“Something like that,” he said, giving me a shy smile that makes my heart flutter. Without another word, I reached behind me and turned off the bedside lamp. In the darkness, I shuffled closer to him and nudge him over on his back. Before he understood what is going in, I inched right up to him, coming to rest in the nook of his arm with my head on his bare shoulder. He didn't put up any fight. “If you insist on taking up space in my bed, you can at least be useful,” I ordered.
“Your bed? I think you'll find that this is technically MY bed! It's in my house!” He argued. Despite his arguing, his arm closed around me, and he ran his hand down my arm and side.
“This is the guest bed, and I am a guest in this house, so as long as I occupy it, it is my bed. And as long as you insist on being in it, I might as well use you as a pillow. Because at least you're good at that. Being a pillow. Even if you're a rotten friend.” On the outside, I was acting confident, but on the inside, my heart was racing. His bare skin is against my cheek and neck, warm and soft. Richard just chuckled softly, his hand still rubbing my side.
“All right, fine,” he said mildly. “I'll be your pillow.” My arm was draped across his stomach, and I couldn't resist the urge to run my palm over his bare chest, needing to feel it under my fingertips. But I only dared do it a few times, then I let it come to rest across his stomach again. “Just don't drool on me.”
“If you won't snore,” I teased back. He chuckled softly and began running his hand over my arm draped across him, slowly and gently. I drew a deep sigh, relaxing into him. After a long while, when he thought I was asleep, he buried his face in my hair for a moment.

I was gently roused from my sleep by something brushing lightly against the side of my face. The sensation wasn't annoying, just slow, feather-light, and not something I instinctively wanted to pull away from. When my brain caught up with my senses, I realised that it was soft lips I was feeling. A warm mouth was placing tiny little kisses along my jawline. On the inside, my surprise and excitement were numbed by my sleepiness, causing a prickly heat to spread through my chest and stomach. On the outside, all I did was stir a little and sigh. He froze when he sensed my movement, but relaxed again when I didn't pull away from him, but rather moved towards him. I drew a slow, deep breath, taking in the smell of him. Sleep still lingered heavily in my body, but my heart quickened with every millimetre his mouth moved closer to mine. He moved slowly, barely brushing his lips and his nose over my skin, gently trying to wake me up without startling me. The weight of his hand was resting on my stomach, unmoving for now. Again I moved, my mouth gravitating towards his. He closed the final little gap between us, and I could feel how ragged and nervous his breath was when he first placed his lips against mine, barely touching. His kiss was timid and slow, as if he wasn't quite sure I was awake yet, or if he was even allowed to do this. I returned it sleepily at first, almost in slow motion, as if I was kissing him on instinct rather than conscious will, still in the process of waking up. I kissed him again, drowsily searching for the softness of his lips, and this time he kissed me more boldly, giving a low, soft hum of relief as he did so. My hand, which had been resting on the duvet, came to life and I placed it against his bare chest. This caress was the first sign I had given that I was truly aware of what was going on and that I wanted to take part in it. His skin was soft and warm beneath my fingers. Slowly and lovingly I slid my palm over his bare chest and stomach, over his side and around to his back, tracing up his spine, kissing him all the while. In response, he pressed his body against mine and deepened his kisses, and I willingly opened my mouth to him. A quiet, little wince escapesd me. My other arm was trapped between us, and I wriggled it free and slipped it underneath him to caress his lower back with featherlight fingertips, fulfilling an intense need to touch more of his skin. Richard's hand had been on my stomach, gently stroking me, and my heart skipped a few beats when I felt him slipping it underneath my shirt, eager to touch skin instead of fabric. A trace of clamminess in his palms revealed that he was a little nervous, but he didn't hesitate when he caressed my stomach and my side. Even though it was practically impossible to get any closer to him, I wanted to, so I slid my leg in between his, our bodies becoming even more entangled. Richard placed a few kisses along my jaw before lowering his mouth against my neck. In gratitude, I tangled my hand into his thick hair, which had become a little long of late and let out a happy sigh. Eager for more kisses I invitingly tilted my head back. My neck had always been a sensitive place, and his breath and his lips against it caused my heart to speed up and a heat of anticipation to spread throughout my body. Before I even registered what I was doing, I slipped my palm down the length of his back and over his bum, squeezing it through his pyjama bottoms, pushing his body against mine. This seemed to spur Richard on, as if this was the final green light he needed. With his lips still against my neck, he pushed me down flat on my back, his hands quickly gathering up the hem of my oversized t-shirt, pulling it upwards. In a moment of panic, I remembered that I had no bra underneath, but realised I am far beyond caring. I arched my back, and writhed under him to help him remove my shirt. We had to break our contact so he could pull it over my head and off me, and for the first time since this began, we could look at each other. We could barely see in the almost darkness of the bedroom, but I coud see that his eyes were searching for mine in the dark, a little smile on his face, and I smiled back. With my hand on his chest, I could feel how he was breathing a little heavy, just like I was. Supporting himself on his arms, he leaned down to give me a surprisingly tender, lingering kiss which I returned with the utmost sincerity. I watched with a mix of anticipation and excitement as he inched down on the bed, not stopping until his head was level with my hips. My body erupted with goosebumps when his lips made contact with the skin just above the hem of my knickers, kissing it. He buried his face against my stomach, kissing his way across it, running his tongue over my skin. His palms were at my sides, rubbing my skin slowly. I ran my hands through his hair, over his neck and shoulders, touching any part of him I could reach. Little hums and sighs of pleasure escaped me in response to the caresses from his mouth and his hands. As he inched his way upwards, I wrapped my legs around him, desperate to feel closer to him. His mouth had come level with my breasts, but teasingly he kissed a trail between them and over the top of them. I squirmed a little underneath him, huffing with frustration now, and I could feel him smirk against the skin between my breasts at my impatience. Deciding to put me out of my misery, he dragged his teeth lightly over the skin of my breast until his lips make contact with a nipple that was already hard. As his mouth closed around it I couldn't help but moan, my hand clutching the back of his neck in a firm grip. A nimble tongue swirled around it, then his lips clamped around it and he sucked it, causing me to arch my back a little. Letting it go, his mouth continued its journey upwards, placing kisses over my chest and shoulder, then dragging his teeth lightly over my collarbone, causing another wave of goosebumps to wash over me. Having parted my legs to give him room, he came to rest on top of me. Several layers of fabric still separated us, but I could feel the warmth of his cock, how hard he was. I could finally kiss him again, and I brushed my lips lightly over his earlobe, breathing into his ear. Burying my face against the side of his neck I kissed his skin deeply. Richard tilted his head sideways, offering up his neck to me, wanting more. My palms trailed down the length of his back again, and when they reached his pyjama bottoms they slipped underneath the fabric, continuing to trail over the skin on his bum. Having wrapped my legs around his hips, I took his arse in a firm grip, kneading it, drawing his body closer to mine again. The friction, my hands on his arse, my lips on his skin drew the first moan of pleasure from Richard, and it only made me want to coax more sounds out of him. Blindly and desperately my mouth found his and I kissed him sensually, running my tongue slowly over his bottom lip. At the same time, I pushed my hips up against his once more, causing him to groan again. He grinded his hips down against me, we were both desperate for some friction, for any sort of relief. I tugged aimlessly at the lining of his pyjama bottoms, wanting them off, but getting nowhere. Richard tried to help, but without any success. We giggled against each other's lips at our own desperate clumsiness, and without really breaking our connection we ended up on our sides, which made it easier for him to kick off his pyjamas. The instant they were gone his hands found my knickers, practically tearing them off me. His arm wrapped around me and he drew my body close to his again, completely naked together for the first time. The contact felt electric, the sensation caused a shiver to run through me. Richard's mouth was at my neck again, kissing me hungrily, his hand traveled over my breast then trails down my stomach and over my bum. I could feel his erection against my hip, hard and warm, and my hand was unconsciously drawn to it. His breath hitched in his throat as he felt my fingertips brush up and down the length of it before I closed my palm gently around it. Slowly I rubbed my thumb over his wet head and he huffed against my skin and pushed his hips against my hand. Both of us were breathing raggedly, our chests heaving, lost in our desire for each other. My insides was on fire, I wanted him so much, all I knew was that I couldn't wait any longer. Letting go of his cock I laid down on my back, digging my fingers into his hips, pulling him after me.
“Come here, please...” I begged breathlessly into his ear. He followed willingly, coming to rest between my legs, his cock now pressed up against my wetness. Leaning on one arm his face hovered over mine. Sensually he runs a thumb along my bottom lip, before he took it between his own lips, sucking on it. I grinded my hips up against his, our bodies slipped easily against each other and the friction made Richard groan against my mouth.
"Oh god..." Just the feel of his cock against me, rubbing against my clit could've been enough to make me come, but I wanted more, we both did. Still kissing me hungrily, he guided himself inside me, and for a moment I lost all ability to return his kisses, all I could do was moan and try to catch my breath. The initial, almost painful delight of suddenly having him inside me was overwhelming. I entangled one hand into his hair and dug the fingertips of the other into his shoulder blade, I was clinging onto him for life, grinding up against him. Richard huffed and groans in my ear, but then, in an instant, his voice changed – all of a sudden it sounded like it was coming from somewhere far away. My body was shaking, or maybe it was being shaken? Suddenly, like a bubble bursting, I'm awake.
“Ron, Ron! Wake up!” It's dark, I was in a bed, and I am breathing heavily. Throwing my eyes open I can see Richard in the near darkness of the bedroom, he was leaning on his elbow and shaking me gently with his free hand.
“Uh.. huh-what?” I croaked, swallowing hard. He stopped shaking me, but his hand remained on my shoulder. For a moment he said nothing, just gave me time to let me catch my breath and make sense of my surroundings. In my mind, I relived the last moment of what I just dreamt, and realised that it was just that; a dream. A very vivid, realistic... wonderful.. dream.
“Nightmare?” His voice was full of kindness and concern as he ran his hand soothingly over my hair.
“Yeah, uh dream... Bad.. dream...” I mumbled and nodded, thankful that it was too dark for him to see how violently I was blushing. Even though it was just a dream, I could feel the exact same desire and want in me now, as I had in the dream, still coursing through me. My heart was beating a hundred miles a minute and that wasn't from fear, but pure lust. I could even feel how my knickers were completely soaked, a wild throbbing between my legs. The fact that Richard was indeed lying next to me in a bed, dressed in a pair of pyjama bottoms and nothing else, made everything a million times worse.
“Are you all right?” His voice was mild. I just nod a few more times, not really knowing what state I was in at the moment. “I know you probably shouldn't wake people when they're dreaming, but... Or is that sleepwalking?” He mused. I probably should be grateful that he woke me up now; before I began moaning his name and telling him to fuck me harder in my sleep. But part of me hated him for interrupting what I was in the middle of. My breath was still ragged and heavy, and I was still in a state of shock. Richard laid back down, his head on the pillow, but he was still looking at me. He obviously thought I was very distressed about my awful nightmare. “Hey, come here, you,” he said kindly, reaching out an arm for me to lie on. I sank back down, coming to rest against his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around me, caressing me to calm me down. In reality, he wasn't helping at all, his bare skin against mine made my blood start rushing again. Five minutes ago I had been kissing that same skin on his neck, sucking on it, making out with him, been naked with the man who I am now being held by, and it was actually just torture. Parts of me wanted to throw myself over him, kiss him, just to see what happened. But I know I wouldn't dare. For a while he said nothing, just kept stroking my arm comfortingly. “Think you'll be able to sleep again?”
“I... Yeah, I think so. Thanks, Richard. I'm sorry if I woke you up with.. whatever I was doing,” I mumbled, half apologetic, half embarrassed.
“No, no, don't worry about it. Try to go back to sleep,” he suggested kindly, running his hand over my hair a few more times. Richard fell asleep long before I did.

Chapter Text

I woke up with a start the next morning, and for a moment I was confused about last night, whether it was a dream or not. A quick look down confirmed that my top was still on, and then it all came back to me; Richard shaking me awake, obviously under the impression that I was having a bad nightmare. But for now, Richard was lying close behind me, his arm around my waist. Damn, why did he have to be so close all the time, clinging on to me? His breath against the back of my neck brought back vivid memories of last night, of his lips against my neck, his mouth on mine, and even though I knew it was just a dream, it felt so real that it made my heart rate speed up. I squirmed a little, trying to get a little further away from him and his tantalizing breath, but he responded by clasping his arm tighter around me in his sleep. As he moved behind me I felt what was unmistakably an erection pressing up against my backside. I knew he was asleep, that he wasn't even aware of it, but even so, it was the final straw; I couldn't stay in this bed any longer. As gently as I could I wrangled myself out of his grasp and stumbled into the bathroom, grabbing my bag on the way. I needed a shower – a very cold one. But when I found myself naked in the shower a little later I couldn't help but relieve my pent-up tension in a very private way. But it didn't help much, and I still felt restless as I got dressed and exited the bathroom. Looking into the bedroom Richard was fast asleep, and I decided to take the dogs out for a walk, desperately needing to distract myself. Returning half an hour later I realized that the walk had done nothing to calm the madness going on inside my head. Normally I couldn't remember half of what I had dreamt, and the more I tried to remember what had actually been going on, the more blurry and intangible they became. But not so this time; I could remember all of it, every detail, and it was driving me bonkers. Taking the dogs into their room I gave them breakfast, having learned their routine by now. Closing the half-door behind me I filled the kettle with water and flicked it on. Lost in thought, Richard's voice behind me caused me to jump.
“Morning!”
“Gaah! .. Oh. Err... Hi. I mean, good morning,” I rambled, my heart beating wildly in my chest. He was still in his pajama bottoms, his hair standing every which way, but he had at least put on a t-shirt. Not that it really helped much, as it was tight and with a v-neck.
“God, I'm sorry,” he said mildly, entering the kitchen. “I thought you heard me coming.”
“What?” I blinked rapidly, feeling the blush creeping up my neck. My brain was suddenly so sex-oriented that even an innocent sentence like that was turned into some sort of innuendo. “Oh, right, no, I didn't hear. I guess I...”
“... zoned out, yeah, I know,” Richard nodded, rolling his eyes, having gotten used to me going offline every now and again.
“I took the dogs out, we were out for half an hour. Then I gave them breakfast.” Looking at him across the kitchen floor my eyes roamed over him, taking in his sexy bedhead, his gorgeous eyes, the details of his neck, and what was visible of his collarbone and chest. My eyes trailed over the shape of his torso, but when they landed on his hips I realized the blush was back and I quickly turned away from him, making myself busy. “Want some tea?”
“Yes, please. And thanks for taking care of the dogs.” I froze up when I felt his arms close around me from behind, he hugged me briefly and gave me a peck on the cheek. I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to calm myself, but my hand holding the sugar spoon was shaking. Part of me wanted to irritably push him away, the other half wanted to spin around and kiss him furiously. Before I could decide on either, he moved away and shuffled over to the fridge.
“Oh, no problem. I was awake, so... I didn't go near the creek though, they'd all get so mucky.”
“But getting mucky is half the fun!” Richard protested. “You should've woken me up, I would've come along and gotten dirty with you,” he grinned cheekily, busying himself with making toast. For the third time in two minutes, my face flushed hot again, and inwardly I exploded in a tirade of expletives.
“I didn't have the heart to wake you...” I mumbled. Sitting down by the kitchen table with my tea and my breakfast, my mind began to wander again. Richard had to talk to me several times before I registered his voice, and when I finally did I twitched in my chair, violently being pulled back into the real world.
“Ron... Are you all right?” Eyes filled with genuine concern looked at me across the kitchen table.
“All right? Why shouldn't I be?” I said with a shrug, stirring in my tea with a spoon.
“Is it that dream from last night?”
“Dream..?” Was all I managed to say.
“Yeah, I mean... You seem all tense and.. skittish. Was it really that bad?”
“No, no, it really wasn't that.. bad...” I said with a sigh, squirming in my chair, feeling awkward and uncomfortable. It hadn't been bad. It had been good. Really, really... good. “I'll be fine. I don't know what's up with me today, maybe it is that dream, I don't know, I don't even really remember what it was about. I'll be fine,” I rambled. All I wanted was to get away from under Richard's intense stare, as if I was worried he'd be able to look straight into my head and see the porn movie going on in there. In the space of a microsecond, I made the decision. “Listen, while I was out with the dogs, the hospital called me, they wondered if I could come in this afternoon. I... I said yes, they seemed to really be in a pinch.”
“Oh, all right...” Richard said, looking a little crestfallen. “Means you would have to get going soon,” he added, throwing his eyes at the clock on the wall.
“Yeah, I know... I'm sorry. I was hoping we could go out on the ATVs today, but... Rain-check?” I raised my eyebrows hopefully at him across the table, and he smiled a little.
“Rain-check. Definitely,” he smiled back. It wasn't a lie, I had really wanted to go out on the ATVs today. The hospital calling, taking on an extra shift, that was a lie. But the way things were right now, after that dream, I just couldn't be around him, I couldn't keep my mind off it, I couldn't even think straight. I needed to get some distance, both time-wise and physically. Maybe the after-effects of the dream would wear off eventually. “Oh, by the way, I forgot to tell you, I'm meeting Mindy next week,” Richard said after a long silence. “We're signing the final divorce papers.” His voice was flat and matter-of-fact.
“That sounds as much fun as getting kicked in the bollocks. Repeatedly,” I observed with a frown.
“Yeah, I'd rather eat Jezza's nipple hairs, to be honest.” We looked at each other over the table, then we both pulled disgusted faces before breaking out in a chuckle, despite the seriousness of the topic. “On second thought, maybe not...”
“Why didn't you say anything last night?” I asked, finding it strange that he didn't mention this during the hours we talked together the night before.
“I... I was trying to get you not to hate me, it didn't feel like the time to start moaning to you about my divorce. Aaaagain,” he added with feeling, rolling his eyes. He gave a shrug, not quite knowing how to explain it better. His shoulders sagged a little, and his eyes flitted restlessly around the room, the worry in him suddenly visible.
“What are you dreading more? Seeing her or signing the actual papers?” There was a pause in which he gave this some thought.
“I don't know, really. Both, probably,” he sighed, picking moodily at the edge of his plate. “It's just so incredibly... final, you know? It really is the end of it, no going back. But on the other hand, that's also the good bit about it. This is the last thing we have to get through for this thing to be over, no more legal stuff, no more arguments or agreements or papers, just.. done.”
“So no seconds thought about the divorce, then?” I knew I probably shouldn't have asked this question, but I couldn't stop myself.
“Oh god, yes! Of course I have second thoughts, I have them all the time. But then I remember that we can't fix this, we tried that, over and over, but it doesn't work. Whatever second thoughts I have, it's just... me being scared. And not wanting to be alone.” Richard's face grew sad and full of regret as he talked. I reached across the table and placed my hand over his. I didn't know what to say, I couldn't think of anything that would make this any easier on him. In the end, all I did was squeeze his hand and give him a comforting look. In return, he gave a small smile and his expression softened, having understood what I had tried to convey with just a touch and a look. Twenty minutes later I was by the door, having packed my things and roused Sprocket from a post-meal nap. I felt bad now, the anxiety and sadness I had seen in Richard earlier made me not want to leave him, if I stayed I could at least distract him a little. But I had told the lie now, I couldn't take it back. Richard watched from the doorway as I got Sprocket into his cage and threw my bag into the back seat. From where he was leaning against the door frame watching me, he looked lonely and lost. Having shut the back door I made my way back to him. Coming to a halt on his front step I opened my mouth to say something, but I wasn't quite sure what, and then Richard beat me to it.
“We're all right, right? You and me?” He asked, raising his eyes from the floor with an effort. "I'm signing my divorce papers in a few days. I need to know that I'm not all alone right now." He looked at me as if I was the last person left in his life.
“Yeah, we're all right,” I nodded, giving him a small smile. Looking grateful he wrapped his arms around me, drawing me in. “You're still a wanker. But you're my best mate. So we're all right.” Chuckling, he hugged me briefly, then gave me a grateful kiss on the temple before letting me go.
“Now, go on, get a move on. Or you'll be late.”

The following week, Richard suddenly called me out of the blue.
“Hamster. Good evening,” I mumbled dryly, trying to sound like James May.
“Hi, Ron. You busy?” He didn't joke back or giggle. By the sound of his voice, he didn't even crack a smile, which made me suspicious.
“I'm buried under a pile of dog, trying to read, so no, not really. What's up?”
“I'm just out driving. Can I come by your place? You don't have like... work early tomorrow or something?”
“No, no, no work,” I answered, a little perplexed.
“So it's okay?”
“Yes, of course it is, you're always welcome, you know that?” I answered back.
“Really? Hang on, I thought I was a wanker,” he protested.
“Well, yes, but you're my wanker, so that makes it okay.”
“All right, see you soon. Half an hour or so.”
“Okay. The front door isn't locked, just... come in, I'm stuck under a dog.”
“Sure. Buh-bye.” A click, and he was gone. Putting down the phone I looked at it with a frown, wondering what that was all about. He was very vague as to where he was or why he suddenly wanted to pay me a visit. Maybe he'd just been somewhere for work, down at Dunsfold for example, and he had decided to come by on a whim. Later, when my front door opened, Sprocket bounded out of bed with a warning bark, alerting me of this unexpected intruder. The moment he spotted his mate by the door I could see his tail starting to wag, then he disappeared from view as he set off to greet him. I smiled to myself as I heard Richard greet the dog with his usual, excited jabbering.
“Ron? Hello?” He briefly came into view as he passed the bedroom doorway, heading for the living room and then the kitchen in his search for me.
“In here!”
“Where- oh, there you are.” Entering my bedroom he looked at me with a frown. “Do you live in your bedroom? You're always in here!” He argued, sounding exactly like when he was arguing with Jezza and May on the telly. He was wearing grey jeans, a white shirt, and an aubergine knit cardigan I'd never seen on him before. Those tight, v-neck t-shirts of his were going to be the end of me someday.
“My bed is more comfortable than my couch. So yes, most of the time, I do,” I sniffed. Richard looked a little lost, looking from the empty space on the bed and then at me. “Well go on, have a seat. Or have a lie-down, you know, whichever you prefer,” I shrugged, fully aware I was inviting him into my bed for the hundredth time. After a few seconds thought he threw himself on the empty side of the bed, just like a bored kid would do, landing on his stomach. He grabbed a pillow and wrapped his arms around it, tucking it under his chest and resting his head and neck against it. Sprocket quickly followed suit, bounding onto the bed, but instead of going back to his usual spot over the top of my legs, he laid down next to Richard, hoping he wouldn't be as preoccupied with a book as I had been so far. “Oh. If you want tea you bloody well have to make it yourself.” I said, not looking at him. Richard laughed.
“No, no, I'm fine. I've had too much coffee today anyway, one more cup of some caffeinated liquid and I'll be the energizer bunny,” he chuckled, absent-mindedly burying his fingers into Sprocket's fur.
“Face it, you practically are already,” I mumbled disinterestedly, glancing at him over the top of my book. Continuing to read would be rather rude now that he was here, so I marked my page and put it down. “Well, more of an energizer-hamster. Where have you been, work?”
“Yeah, doing silly challenges again. You will never be able to guess what I have genuinely done at work today, not in a million years.”
“Then you better tell me, or this will be a very long evening. Not to mention millennia.”
“I have played musical chairs with Jeremy and May.”
“O..kay?”
“No, this is the best bit; it was in an old Vauxhall Nova. While driving down the straight on the track.” I burst out laughing, trying to imagine this.
“But Jezza is like two miles tall! How is that even possible?”
“He is surprisingly flexible, despite his constant complaining over his bad hip.”
“Also... I can't imagine that could have worked without quite a bit of physical contact – how did you talk James into that? Did you slip him drugs?” Richard launched into stories about all the insane things they had done on their shoot today, resulting in both of us laughing constantly.
“Anyway, it's been a long day, and I thought I'd come by and see you, even if you're still angry with me,” he sighed and looked up at me with his brown doe-eyes. As Sprocket looked up at me as well, I burst out laughing.
“God, you two looked at me the exact same way right now,” I laughed.
“Sprocket has beautiful eyes, I'm choosing to take that as a compliment,” he sniffed. His arm was draped over the dog, and I found myself actually being jealous of Sprocket. In the silence that followed, Richard's eyes went out of focus as he lost himself in his own thoughts. He has had a long day, I could tell just by looking at him, that he was exhausted. But I also remembered the phone call, and how odd Richard had sounded, I knew that he wasn't here to just talk about how his day was. He'd been talking for half an hour now, but only about funny stories from work.
“How did that whole divorce-paper signing ... thing go?” I asked bluntly, knowing it had happened a few days ago.
“Oh, it went all right, I guess...” he mumbled vaguely, shrugging his shoulders. “No actually, that's a lie, it didn't really go well at all.”
“Uh-oh... Should I even ask ?” I raised an eyebrow at him. He fiddled with Sprocket's collar, throwing me a quick, guilty glance.
“We.. had sex.” He mumbled darkly, hoping I wouldn't catch what he said.
“What?!”
“We had sex all right!! I slept with her, all right, we.. slept together!” His confession started loud and angry, but then his voice trailed off and the sentence ended in a shameful mumble. After a moment of absolute silence, I was unable to hold my questions back.
“Are you serious??” I asked, feeling frustrated, rubbing my temples tiredly. “Hammond, You were signing your divorce papers! And you ended up having sex? How can you- I mean, how do you go from that, from signing your divorce papers to actually sleeping together? Considering the situation, that shouldn't be possible!” I gestured wildly in the air as I talked, and Richard flinched.
“I know, I know...” he sighed as he closed his eyes for a moment.
“Well?” I persisted, raising a demanding eyebrow.
“Well, she... Came by the house with the papers, and we both signed them, I felt a little sad and she looked sad, so I just wanted to hug her, and I kissed her forehead, then she kissed me, and..”
“Okay, okay, enough, all right, I get where this is going,” I waved, not wanting to hear anymore, regretting my question. But I regretted having opened this subject even more. Richard shut up instantly. Another silence descended while I mulled things over. Most of all I wanted to repeatedly hit him hard over the head with my very thick book. “So now what? You're going to make another go of it?” A part of me had already resigned to this fact, ever the pessimist.
“What?” At this Richard's head snapped up and he looked at me with a puzzled frown. “Of course we're still getting divorced, I mean, we are divorced, we signed the papers, it's done.”
“Yeah, but you could've just torn the papers up if you changed your minds.”
“Well, yes, we could have, but I mean... Just because that happened, that doesn't mean... anything, really. We can't fix this, we tried, over and over, but we can't, so it's done, it's over. I don't love her anymore,” he said determinedly.
“...When you end up sleeping with her, that doesn't sound like a marriage being over to me,” I pointed out.
“No, Ron, really,” Richard said emphatically, holding up a palm. “Believe me, it's over.” He sighed and his head flopped back down on the pillow, he looked upset and sad. I didn't know what to say, or if I should ask any questions at all, so I kept quiet. “After we split up, whenever we were together, I always... felt something, or at least I thought I did. And whenever it happened, when we ended up in a bed together, it always made me confused, I wondered if we were doing the wrong thing because if I still felt something then maybe leaving each other wasn't right. But this time, kissing her, holding her... I didn't really feel much of... anything. I mean, she'll always mean something to me, we were married for a long time, but those romantic feelings, you know, wanting to be with her, wanting her to be mine, they're... gone. And whatever feelings I thought I had earlier, I'm not sure they were even real, I think I was just... missing what we used to be, really, what we had together. And thinking that I still had feelings for her made me sad, but realizing that I don't any longer, makes me sad too. I'm not making any sense at all, am I?” Looking up at me he looked utterly lost.
“Yes, you are, Richard,” I said reassuringly, unable to resist the urge to run my hand through his hair and down the side of his head in a comforting manner. “You're rambling a little, perhaps, but it makes sense. As much sense as feelings ever make, really, and that normally isn't much at all.”
“I hate feelings,” he muttered, pouting like a child. I smirked at him, shaking my head a little.
“If you didn't feel anything, why did you even go through with it?” The instant I asked this question I bit my lip, regretting it. If I didn't want to know anything about this, then why the hell did I keep on asking questions?
“I don't know... Didn't want to be rude,” he said, trying to make a joke of it. When he saw no smile from me he turned serious again. “Maybe I was hoping I would feel something. Maybe it was just... the last goodbye, I don't know, really.”
“Go out with a bang, was that it?” I asked dryly.
“I hate you, why do I even talk to you?” Richard complained but smiled a little despite himself.
“Beats me, I'm horrible,” I shrugged carelessly. “So it's really over, then? You're officially divorced?”
“Yep.” He nodded once, then drew a deep breath. “And even though it makes me sad, I'm also a little relieved. It feels like we've been in this process for decades, I'm just glad it's over. Maybe I'll actually be able to... move on.”
“Yeah, maybe,” I said, my voice full of empathy. Without really thinking I began running my hand consolingly over the side of his head, through his hair, wanting to comfort him. Richard closed his eyes at my touch, appreciating my comforting him. Privately I wondered if he ever would be able to move on. And to what? Maybe he'd see me, now? Maybe he'd see me as something other than that one mate he could talk to? After a long silence, Richard seemed to snap out of his thoughts.
“Listen, I'm sorry, I've been jabbering constantly at you ever since I got here, and mostly about myself. How are you? What's going on in your life?”
“Oh, I'm fine, nothing much is going on, really...” I mumbled vaguely. Having retracted my hand from Richard's hair, I now fiddled with both hands in my lap. “Well, I've been on a date, actually.” I made the decision to tell him in the blink of an eye. If Richard felt like he could tell me about every intimate little detail of what went on in his life, why shouldn't I tell him about mine? Not that I was particularly proud of having gone on that date. I know that I did it as an act of desperation, an attempt to find anything that might distract me from Richard. I needed something new in my life because lately, I'd been walking around in circles, getting nowhere.
“A date? Really? You kept that quiet!” He said, echoing my words from when he had told me about his dating. His face lit up at this news, and a teasing grin spreads on his lips. He stared at me expectantly, waiting for me to fill him in on the details.
“It's this paramedic bloke, every time he comes in with a patient he's made a point of talking to me. I've been sort of ignoring him for a while, but... I don't know, I wasn't sure if I really liked him, but I realized I'd only talked to him at work, and maybe he'd be a completely different person outside of the ER. So I asked him out for dinner.”
“You did?” Richard raised both his eyebrows.
“Yes! The ambulance guys, they're only in our ER for like five minutes a couple of times a day, you have a very limited window.”
“All right, all right, makes sense,” he nodded. “Did you sleep with him?” Richard grinned mischievously.
“Richard!” I exclaimed in affronted tones, slapping his upper arm, and he giggled. But I didn't respond to his question.
“So how was it?” He asked.
“What, the sex?” I replied without thinking.
“A-ha!” He pointed at me with a victorious and accusatory finger, and I screwed up my face in a grimace, blushing furiously.
“Well, you know, it was... All right, I guess...” I sighed, sounding less than enthusiastic.
“...Ouch! Poor bloke,” Richard flinched. “Are you going to see him again?”
“Oh, I... um. I don't know, probably not. I mean, he's nice and thoughtful and everything, but there just wasn't any... chemistry. And he doesn't make me laugh. So, no, probably not.” Part of me had been really disappointed to find out that the paramedic had been just as normal, square, and boring as I had initially assumed. I had hoped to discover that he had a whole other side to him that I had never seen before, something that made him interesting.
“Rubbish sex and doesn't make you laugh... You're right, don't see him again,” Richard summarized, shaking his head. Spotting the unhappy look on my face he turned more serious. “I'm sorry it didn't work out.” He placed his hand on mine, running his thumb over the back of my hand, returning my comfort from before.
“Thanks,” I muttered and gave him a wonky smile. “I remember why I never go on dates now. They make me feel miserable.” There was a little silence.
“I had sex, and I feel miserable. You had sex, and you feel miserable,” Richard observed.
“We must be getting really, really horrible sex,” I suggested, and we both started giggling.
“Maybe we should just start shagging each other?” Richard suggested flippantly, causing me to nearly swallow my own tongue. He had a cheeky eyebrow raised, and that mischievous grin on his face, all he wanted was to make me laugh, to cheer me up, and I couldn't help but oblige. Far too vivid images of my dream flashed across my memory and I was sure I was blushing again. Looking down at Richard he was resting his chin against the pillow again, one hand absent-mindedly scratching Sprocket behind the ear.
“Are the dogs at Kristin's?” I asked, remembering his pack at home.
“Yeah... I knew today would be a really long day, it was just better,” he mumbled into the pillow. His eyes closed slowly as he started to relax more. “Do the hair thing. It felt nice.” He extracted his hand from Sprocket's fur to gesture to his own hair, then resumed petting the dog. His voice was slow and sleepy. I gave a snort of derision.
“You're becoming very demanding!” I laughed. But even so, I began running my fingers through his dark, thick hair again, caressing him slowly. “You're scratching Sprocket, I'm scratching you, now who is going to scratch me..?”
“Sprocket, scratch her,” he mumbled, gently poking the dog once in the ribs. Sprocket gave an annoyed grunt but didn't move as much as a paw. I knew Richard was nearly asleep already, and I didn't have the heart to rouse him just to throw him out and make him drive home. Still running my fingers through his hair I picked up my book with my free hand and sank a few inches lower onto the bed. It was only half-past ten and too early to go to bed, so I resumed reading. Eventually, when I was certain he was asleep and my arm was getting tired, I stopped caressing him but left my fingers tangled in his hair. He slept heavily, his breath slow and heavy, lying completely still with Sprocket tucked under his arm, and I felt very guilty when I knew I had to disturb them both. I placed my hand on the top of his, squeezing it gently.
“Hammond... Richard, love... I have to take Sprocket out now, or he'll just wake me at 4 am needing a wee,” I explained, trying to rouse both him and the dog. Both of them stirred reluctantly. In the end, I had to practically grab Sprocket by the collar and drag him out of Richard's arms, and then out of bed. Richard sighed and yawned then opened his eyes, but only barely.
“What time is it?” He croaked.
“Nearly midnight.”
“Oh god. I better start on the way home... Sorry for conking out.”
“Richard, no... You'll just fall asleep at the wheel and crash and die horribly. Wanker or not, I don't want that. Was Kristin supposed to have the dogs until tomorrow?”
“Yeah,” he groaned, rubbing his face tiredly.
“Then stay here, go to sleep again. You're knackered. Be right back.” Returning ten minutes later, Richard's clothes were in a heap on a chair, and he was under the duvet, seemingly already back to sleep. With a yawn I shuffled off to the bathroom to brush my teeth and got into an oversized t-shirt I often slept in. When I came back to the bedroom, Sprocket had crawled back into bed and inched right up to his new favorite sleeping buddy. Under normal circumstances, I would've chased the dog out of my bed and into his own, but for once I let him stay. Where he was lying in the middle of the bed, he would be between Richard and me, and maybe act like some sort of barrier. I flicked off the bedside lamp and crawled into bed. Coming to rest against the pillow I sighed deeply, quietly wondering how on earth that man had wound up in the same bed as me for the hundredth time. I had let him fall asleep and told him to stay when he'd talked about going home because I was genuinely worried he was too tired to drive. I was too nice to him, I knew that. I just.. let him do whatever he wanted, and the majority of the time he had no idea what he was doing to me. He wasn't mean to me, not knowingly anyway. A little inconsiderate at times, perhaps, but mostly that was just because he was incredibly caught up in the mess and stress of his own life. But he was also a good mate, he cared about me and my life, listened to me, comforted me, and made me laugh. I sighed heavily once again and changed position, predicting that I wouldn't be able to sleep for hours. In the dark I heard some movement, then Richard's hand connected with my lower arm in his blind search for me. From there he found my hand and took it in his, interlacing our fingers. I couldn't even tell if he is awake or not, his hand had felt heavy and sleepy. My heart beat hard in my chest. I should move, retract my hand, turn away. But I knew that I couldn't.

Chapter Text

I was awakened by a palm gently brushing over my lower arm, and a hoarse but mild voice calling my name.
"Ron... Ronja...?" Cracking an eye open I squinted against the harsh morning light in my bedroom. As my eyes adjusted to the light, Richard's face swam into view, a lot closer than I would have expected it to be. "It's 9.30. Maybe we should get up soon?" With a start I realized that I was lying basically in the nook of his arm, my head on his shoulder, my body draped along his side, my leg over his. Looking around I saw that Sprocket and I had traded places during the night, he was now curled up on my side of the bed, his head on my pillow.
"Um... how did I..?" I croaked, gesturing vaguely to myself and then to Richard.
"You inched over sometime during the night. I think Sprocket got too hot and laid on the floor for a while, and suddenly you were there," he explained. I fully expected him to tease me for being clingy or needy, but he didn't.
"Oh... yeah, maybe it's time to get up," I croaked, sitting up in bed and rubbing my face tiredly. Instantly I missed the warmth of his body, and I hated myself for sitting up, for getting out of bed. All I wanted to do was crawl back under the blanket and back into that position, and sleep. Scooting out of bed I pulled on a pair of pajama bottoms, wondering if Richard was studying my bare legs while I did. Turning around to look at him, I was disappointed to discover that he was busy scratching my dog. "Did you sleep all right?"
"Hm? Oh, yeah. Well, Sprocket kicked me in the ribs a few times. But then you came along, so.. yeah, good," he mumbled, not really looking at me.
"... Good," I echoed. "I'll... go make some coffee." On my way to the kitchen, I buried my face in my hands, sighing frustratedly. What the hell were we doing? What was this, what was going on? Were we just friends, or something that was just entirely undefinable and confusing? Did even Richard know what we were? Or did he just take everything in his stride, like he always seemed to do, without analyzing it or giving it much thought? I moved around the kitchen completely on autopilot, filling the coffee maker with water and coffee before flicking it on. A knock on the front door jerked me out of my preoccupied thoughts, and I frowned at the sound of it. Who could it be? It was way too early for the postman, and apart from him or Richard people hardly ever knocked on my door. I must have looked like something out of a movie comedy when I opened the door to find the paramedic, Kevin, standing on my doorstep.
"Hi. I didn't wake you, did I?" Was his first question, as he spotted my pajamas and tousled look.
"What, no, no, I was just... making coffee. Um.. hi. What are you doing here?" This rather inhospitable question fell out of my mouth before I had a chance to stop myself.
"Well, I went by the hospital first, to check if you were working or not. They said you had the day off, so I thought maybe I could take you out for break... fast..." Kevin's face suddenly changed, he was obviously looking at something behind me, and I before I even turned around I just knew he'd spotted Richard. Rightly enough, Richard had chosen this moment to emerge from my bedroom. Thankfully he had both his jeans and his t-shirt on, but he was barefoot and had an inarguable case of bedhead. Looking back at Kevin, his face had gone from surprise and shock to a mixture of disappointment, anger, and offense. There was a moment of awful, awkward silence.
"I, um... OK, then, never mind," he said, seeming both embarrassed and a little annoyed. Then he turned on his heels and walked off. My first instinct was to call after him, explain that he had misunderstood everything, to make him understand, but I couldn't. Not now, not with Richard still being here. Besides, how could I make him understand when I didn't even understand it myself? With a heavy sigh, I closed the front door, then I started slowly banging my forehead against it, groaning loudly.
"I really need to work on my timing, don't I..." Richard's voice was small and apologetic. I could hear his footsteps approach me from behind. "I'm guessing that was the paramedic?"
"Yes," I groaned, still banging my head against the hard, painted wood of the door.
"I guess I really ruined your chances with him, didn't I? I'm sorry." I felt Richard's hand on my shoulder, squeezing it for a moment.
"Yes," I groaned again through gritted teeth.
"Stop that, or you'll cause a bruise. And a headache," Richard said, quickly placing a palm between the door and my forehead before I could hit it again. I glared at him before quickly turning on my heels and stomping away from him.
"I can't believe this," I huffed.
"What? That he showed up unannounced? Or that I happened to be here?" He asked innocently as he followed me into the kitchen.
"Both," I muttered, aggressively pouring two cups of coffee.
"As far as unlucky coincidences go, this was a pretty bad one," he conceded, snatching up one cup before I had the chance to throw it in his face.
"And the thing is, this isn't even how it looks!" I shouted, and now Richard realized that I was properly angry. "You came out of my bedroom, with your hair on backwards and no socks! And me still in my pajamas! We're not sleeping together, but that sure as hell is what it looks like to him!" I pointed to the street as if to underline who I was talking about.
"Ron, what are you so angry about? You said you weren't going to see him again anyway," Richard said calmly.
«Maybe not, but this wasn't how I wanted him to find out! It would have been nice to at least have the opportunity to see him again, without you getting in the way!»
«Ron, I get that you didn't want to hurt the bloke, and I'm sorry that this happened, but none of us could have predicted this?” He was trying to keep calm, trying to stay sensible, but I could tell it was getting harder for him.
“Could you imagine how he feels right now? And what he might think of me?!”
«Would you calm down? It's not like he caught us in a bed together!» Richard said defensively, throwing his arms out.
«But you were in my bed, that's exactly the point!» My voice had gone a little shrill now, I was losing control of my anger, all my frustrations toward Richard pouring out of me.
"Well you're always in your damn bed, so it's kind of impossible to stay out of it!" He retorted.
«I mean that we're not even shagging each other, and still you're ruining my life!»
«So, what, do you want to shag me?» He shouted back, becoming equally frustrated.
«Bloody hell, no! God knows what would happen then, the world might implode!»
“What do you mean, ruining your life? I said last night I was going home, but you told me to stay!”
“Because you were sad and really tired and I give in as usual and let you do whatever the hell you want!” I was pacing back and forth in my little kitchen, pent-up frustration making it impossible for me to stand still. He had retreated a few steps to what he assumed was a safe distance and had put down his cup of coffee.
“Whatever I want?” Richard asked coldly, struggling to understand what I was really saying. “You make it sound like I'm nothing but bloody mean to you! What the hell is this about, are you still angry with me about how I acted when I was with Jasmine?”
“Yes, I guess I am! I don't know!” I shouted back, feeling like I was losing the momentum I had a moment ago.
“You're going to have to elaborate a bit more because I have no idea what you're saying!” Richard demanded.
“I mean that I never know where I am with you, where I stand! Because there's no in-between with you! Either you're just... gone, working or dating someone or shagging your ex-wife, or... or you're here, in my bed!”
“Okay, so which bit are you angry at me for? Being away, or being in your bed?”
“I don't know! Both, I guess! I just- sometimes I wonder what the hell I am to you? I'm sure as hell not a mate to you, because this, you and me, this isn't like any other mate I've ever had. Sometimes I wonder if I'm just this.. comforter that you can turn to when life's a bit rough, someone who'll listen to you, a security blanket you've realized you can sleep close to at night without ever getting any feelings involved!”
“Ron, that is so fucking unfair.» I had pushed Richard too far now, he'd had enough. Taking a step closer he pointed at me with an angry, accusatory finger. «You're making it sound like I've never done anything for you. Like I'm just taking advantage of you and am never there for you, and you bloody well know that's not true. And I have never forced you to be there for me, in fact, I told you specifically that you didn't have to! I am going to leave now, and go home, and give you some time to figure out what your problem is. Maybe you'll be able to find out what exactly it is you're so bloody angry with me about!» He turned on his heels and marched out of the kitchen. I heard him make a detour to the bedroom to pick up the rest of his clothes, then marched into the hallway. A few minutes later the door slammed shut behind him. In the deafening silence that followed, I could hear his car roaring to life out in the street, and then the click-clack of Sprocket's claws against the floor as he shuffled into the kitchen. He looked up at me then cocked his head, as if to ask "what the hell was all that about?" My eyes landed on Richard's untouched cup of coffee, and I made a loud groan of frustration. He had a point, what was I really so angry about? Picking up my own cup of coffee I sat down on the sofa, still seething. I'm not really angry about Kevin showing up, or that Richard happened to be here at the time. It was just an unfortunate coincidence. I hadn't told Kevin that my best mate happened to be Richard Hammond, and I definitely hadn't told him that we used to have these platonic sleepovers constantly. I guessed that no matter what I told him now, he wouldn't believe me, that I wasn't in a relationship with Richard, or that I have at the very least been shagging him. In reality, I was angry at myself, for doing this to myself, for always letting Richard into my bed, letting him get so close to me, even though I never got as close as I really wanted to. And I was angry at myself for not having the guts to be honest with him. Now that I had been on a roll I should have just confessed that I had feelings for him and that whatever was going on between us was doing a right number on me. But instead, I just shouted half-truths and unfair accusations at him. It was true, I didn't know where I stood with him. He seemed to always be searching for some closeness to me, physical as well as emotional, he had even kissed me once. But never mentioned it with a single word after that. Whenever he crawled into the same bed as me, and inched up as close as he could, I always wondered if it was just because he needed comfort and to feel cared for, or because he genuinely wanted to be close to me. Richard had been there for me too, it wasn't just a one-way street, he was right about that too. He'd been there for me even though I had screamed in his face and stomped off like an offended toddler on a temper tantrum. He listened to me, comforted me when I needed it, and showed that he cares by worrying about me working too much. Of course he's my mate, I hadn't meant that. He's my best mate. But sometimes he also felt like... having a "friend with benefits". But without all the benefits. Countless times after that kiss I had been on the verge of bringing it up, asking what he thought about it, anything just to open that subject of our feelings for each other. But I always chickened out, because I was terrified of him immediately launching into apologies before exclaiming 'thank god you stopped me!' Instead of being faced with rejection, I stayed in the land of the unknown, hoping that something might happen one day. But the way I had just acted was proof that I wasn't handling the situation well. I needed to apologize to him, I knew that before he was even out the door. I also needed to be honest with him. Some day.

"Ron, we have an ambulance coming, three minutes out, get ready." A coworker of mine, Theresa, called Tess for short, popped her head into the medicine room. At first, I thought she might be warning me because an ambulance could mean Kevin was arriving, and I had told her about my rather boring date, but when I saw the look on her face I knew that wasn't the case.
"Serious?" I asked, dropping what I had in my hands and following her.
«Car accident. Head trauma."
«This week just gets better and better....» I muttered. Both Tess and I busied ourselves with checking that all the gear and equipment in the trauma room was ready. The ER had been quiet lately, it had been a while since I had encountered any major trauma or accidents, and my pulse had already gone up. I hated the waiting game, not knowing, wondering what would get dumped in my lap. The wondering was always the worst. From afar I could hear the sirens blaring. An anesthesiologist, a few doctors, Theresa and I rushed towards the doors, ready to receive the ambulance. I hung back a little, letting the doctor and the more experienced Tess help the paramedics get the patient out of the back of the rig.
"Male, age 44, car accident. BP 90/55, pulse 115, sats 90%. GCS 14." The paramedic quickly rambled off the patient's status and vital parameters. Those numbers made me relax a little, but not much. 
«Any more coming?» The doctor asked.
«No, just him.»
«But the other car?» The doc persisted, not understanding.
«There wasn't any. The wheels just locked up at 40 miles per hour, apparently, he hit his face on the steering wheel, no airbag.»
«Ouch,» the anaesthesiologist flinched. I couldn't see much apart from the gurney, a neck collar, and a tangled mess of hair so bloody I couldn't even begin to guess what hair color it was. He was covered in a blanket and flanked by paramedics, nurses, and doctors on all sides as he was wheeled into the trauma room. I grabbed a corner of the sheet under the patient, helping to move him safely over to a trauma bed. The paramedics cleared the room while the attending in charge shouted orders about wanting a head and spine CT, blood tests, 4 milligrams of morphine, and that someone would hang fluids. While checking the patient's pupils and ears the attending asked some questions, and a voice altered by pain, blocked sinuses, and a broken nose answered as briefly as possible from the depths of the neck brace. On instinct rather than conscious thought I grabbed a bag of IV Ringer, connect it to an infusion set and hanged it up. Then I quickly located the access needle the paramedics had put in the patient's right arm in the ambulance, flushed it and connected the Ringer, letting it run wide open. I knew the doc was worried about possible shock, how much blood the patient had lost, and whether or not he might be bleeding somewhere else, hence the IV fluids. Keep the blood volume up at all costs, even I knew that much.
«Put another IV line in, in case he needs blood,» the attending ordered. I obeyed without thinking, grabbing the cart with everything I needed for putting another peripheral venous line in on the other arm. Used to ignoring the hectic rush around me I grabbed a swab of disinfectant and focused on finding a vein on the man's lower left arm. It was the sudden end to the chaos that made me look up, as everyone was suddenly staring at the patient, then at me.
"Ron..." The patient croaked. Hearing my own name coming out of this patient's mouth turned my insides to ice. Looking at him, his face was completely covered in blood, it had congealed and glued one of his eyes shut, and his hair was dark red. But that one eye looking back at me, I would know that eye anywhere.
«Richard...?» I breathed, dropping the swab I was holding.
«Ronja, you know this bloke?» Tess asked.
«Yeah... Yeah, he's my best mate,» I mumbled absent-mindedly, nodding slowly, my eyes glued to him.
«Ok, move over, let me do this.» She nudged me gently away with her hip, taking over the task of inserting another IV line.
«Ron...» Richard croaked again, more pleadingly this time. I rushed to the other side of the trauma bed and took his hand, squeezing it hard.
«Sorry, I didn't realize, I didn't see... What have you gone and done now, love?» I rambled, fear quickly rising in me, not quite aware of what I was saying. My pulse had been rapid, it always was when I was dealing with a trauma patient, at least until I knew whether the patient was stable or not. Now my heart was hammering in my chest, but for a very different reason. Now that I had realized it was Richard, everything felt different, all my professionalism went out the window and I was reduced to nothing but a very scared friend.
«What's going on?» Richard croaked, his one eye sweeping over all the people rushing around him.
«You're doing just fine,» I said, forcing a reassuring smile.
«Bollocks,» he snorted, rolling his eye at me.
«You're a bit tachycardic, and your bp is dropping a little, so you might be a little hypovolemic-»
«English!» he demanded with what little strength he had.
«Your heart rate is a bit high, and your blood pressure is going down a bit. You've bled like a pig from that nose of yours,» I translated. «And we need to get some blood back into you.» I ran my hand over his bloody, sticky hair, hoping that I could calm him down.
«Who is this guy?» Tess asked.
«Oh, it's Richard. Er, Hammond,» I added hurriedly, realizing that his surname was probably an important detail. Tess gaped at me in disbelief. «I'm guessing he crashed out at Dunsfold, on the track?»
«Yeah...» Richard croaked. A phone on the wall in the trauma room rang, and Tess quickly picked it up.
«They're ready for him at radiology,» she informed us. She rummaged around for a little with needles and small glass vials, then held up a full syringe to me as a way of warning.
«We have to take you to CT, make sure your head and neck are okay. We'll sedate you for a little bit-» I began explaining to him.
«No no no, I don't want it to go dark, Ron, please...» He gripped my hand so tightly it hurt, terrified at the thought of being sedated.
«Richard, we have to, you won't be able to lie still enough for this, you're in a lot of pain. The effect of it is very brief, you'll be out for ten or fifteen minutes max. I promise I'll be there when you come to, all right? It won't go dark forever, I promise you, love, I would never allow that.» When he didn't answer, I asked again. «All right?»
«Okay...» he sighed. He held my hand in a tight grip and stared straight into my eyes while Tess injected the drug, and within seconds his grip loosened and his eye closed shut. Watching him go unconscious made me scared and anxious, even though my rational side of me knew it was just the drugs taking effect. Tess and the anesthesiologist that would monitor his vitals for as long as Richard was sedated, began wheeling him out of the room, heading for radiology. Apathetic and shocked I watched the trauma bed rolling away from me, terrified of what the CT might show. Over the top of it, I spotted Jeremy, James, and Andy as they came rushing into the ER. I waved at them with a bloodied hand, signaling to them to wait for a second while I washed my hands.
«Was he unconscious? He wasn't when the ambulance took him away!» Jezza observed, looking worried. I was barraged with questions the moment I approached them, so I led them into a room away from prying eyes and ears.
«No, we knocked him out for a little bit, we need to take some images. Full body x-rays are standard with any sort of trauma, and the CT is for checking his head and neck, he must've hit that steering wheel with some force,» I explained hurriedly. All three men looked at me with concern in their eyes, suddenly lost for words. «What the hell happened out there?» I hissed, a wave of anger rushing through me at the thought of the accident. What daft, reckless thing had they been doing now? Was this show actually going to kill Richard someday?
«I don't know! He wasn't even going that fast, about 40!» Andy said, wringing his hands, looking desperately worried.
«Honestly it looked like the rear diff just locked up, both wheels just stopped,» James said, actually knowing something about mechanics.
«It was a rear-wheel drive, too, I think,» Jezza croaked.
«Ron, is it bad?» James' blue eyes, normally so calm, pierced me.
«We don't know yet. He's awake and coherent, which is good. He recognized me the second he saw me. We think he's lost quite a bit of blood, most likely from his nose, but we need to rule out bleeding elsewhere. He'll probably need a blood transfusion. The CT will reveal if he has any skull or neck fractures, which could be bad news. Listen, why don't you guys go to the waiting room? Have some coffee meanwhile, I'll fill you in as soon as I know some more. I have to go, I promised to be there when he woke up,» I added, trying to give an encouraging smile. They all nodded and let themselves be steered into the waiting room. After all the diagnostic imaging was done, Richard was wheeled into a quiet room to wake up in peace. I had been there while the doctor reviewed the images and know the results. Looking at him, it would have been easy to mistake him for dead, considering the amount of blood on him. But I knew he was alive, I could see his chest rising and falling with every breath, and hear the reassuring beeps of the heart monitor. It only took a couple of minutes before Richard began stirring, the effects of the sedative wearing off quickly. I hastened to grab his hand, speaking softly to him.
"Richard? Love, I'm right here, okay?" I said reassuringly.
«Ron? I can't see!» He suddenly said, his hand closing around mine like a vice. His movements were limited as he was still wearing the neck brace, and I could see the panic rising within him.
«All right, hang on, it's probably just blood in your eyes,» I said calmly, privately hoping that I was right. «You have to let go of my hand for a moment, love, I have to find some washcloths and water. Reluctantly he loosened his grip on my hand, and I ran around the room tearing open every closet and cupboard in a mad search for anything and everything that I could clean his eyes with. Eventually, I found a washbowl and a big stack of soft gauze squares, and a few towels. I filled the bowl with slightly warm water and dipped the gauze in it. «This is going to be wet,» I warned him, squeezing as much water as I could over his eye to soften the congealed blood. On instinct, he shut his eyes tight and screwed up his face, then swore loudly as his face hurt. «Hang in there, almost done.» As gently as I could I rubbed the gauze over his eyelid and lashes, and finally the eyelids slid apart. «See me now?» I asked, smiling at him.
«Oh thank god,» he sighed gratefully, almost sounding like he was on the verge of tears, obviously having been genuinely afraid of losing his eyesight.
«Hang on, let me do the other one.» I carefully cleaned his other eye until he could open that one as well. «Better?»
«Yeah, thanks...» He slurred his words a little, still feeling the effect of the anesthetic.
«Okay, so they've had a look at your x-rays and CT. You have no fractures, apart from your nose, no dislocations, no pneumothorax, no broken teeth, and no brain bleeds,» I counted them off on my fingers.
«But..?» He asked hesitantly.
«But nothing. You have a broken nose and a concussion, that's it.» I undid the straps on the neck brace and gently removed it.
«... R-r-really?» He stammered, looking at me in disbelief.
«Really, Hammond,» I smiled. Having done this a thousand times before, I raised the backrest a bit, allowing him to sit up a little. He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath of relief. When his bottom lip began to quiver I realized just how terrified he'd been. «You'll be fine, baby. I promise. Your nose is going to be sore for a while though. We um... straightened it up a little while you were out,» I admitted. «How are you feeling?»
«Like my nose has been punched out through the back of my head...» he grumbled, sounding oddly nasal.
«We stuffed your nose with these, um.. nose-tampons, they've been soaked in something that helps the blood clot, stop the bleeding, mixed with some local anesthetic, so you might feel a little numb.» A red tube caught Richard's eye, and he traced it up to a bag of blood hanging over his head.
«Yeah, you're getting some blood. You went and poured most of it on yourself, and me, and everyone else, actually so much it made you a little anemic, so you need a little refilling,» I explained.
«Oh ok... Are you sure my nose is really there?»
«Yes, I am,» I reassured him with a chuckle, squeezing his hand and giving his temple a swift kiss. «A little misshapen perhaps, but definitely there. Try frowning or something, and you'll definitely feel it's there. Your entire face is caked in blood, though, you look like something out of a Peter Jackson movie. Want me to wash it off, or do you want to try it yourself?»
«You do it...?» He asked timidly.
«All right. I'll be as careful as I can.» I could feel his eyes on the back of my neck as I crossed the room and dug out more gauze and towels, then refilled the bowl with clean water. Without a word, I began meticulously cleaning his face, trying to be as gentle as I could. «If this was your way of trying to make me not be mad at you, I think you may have overdone it a bit.» Richard gave a snort of laughter that immediately turned into a wince of pain, as any sort of facial expression hurts.
«Ow, fuck! Okay, my nose is definitely there. Don't make me laugh!»
«Sorry,» I smirked, looking into his eyes briefly. «What happened? Any idea?»
«No...» He mumbled, fiddling nervously with his own fingers. «I was just driving along, then I heard a big clunk and it felt like the wheels... locked up.»
«Hmm, James said it looked like the rear diff locked up, yeah.»
«James is here?»
«Mhm, of course he is, and Jezza and Andy.» Richard fell silent, still fidgeting nervously with his own hands.
«God, when I woke up in that ambulance... I didn't know what was going on, I was so scared I'd hurt my... my brain again... Or my spine, or... I wasn't wearing a helmet, or neck protection, this was just a normal drive, old car... » He was struggling now, his bottom lip quivering again.
«I know, love, I know...» I said soothingly, running my palm up and down his arm. «But you didn't hurt your brain, or your spine, just your nose.» Leaning down I placed my lips against his now clean forehead, giving it a comforting, lingering kiss. Richard wrapped an arm around me, pulling me in for an awkward hug. «When I realized it was you I was.. a bit terrified too,» I whispered against his skin before straightening up. «Thank god it was just your conk.» I busied myself with cleaning the last of the blood off him. «Okay, that will have to do for now. I promised the guys to fill them in as soon as I knew how you were doing. Do you want to see them?»
«Yeah, sure...» Richard nodded. «As long as they don't crack any 'got your nose' jokes...» He added as an afterthought, and I couldn't help but snort. Even Richard cracked a crooked smile. «Listen, Ron...» He reached out to grab my hand. «I'm really glad you were here because I... I really needed you today. I'm sorry I keep getting myself into trouble...»
«Ssssh, Richard, stop that...» I shook my head mildly at him, placing a hand on the back of his neck, caressing him with my thumb. «This wasn't your fault. I'm just glad you're all right. I'll go see if I can find the guys, yeah?» He nodded, squeezed my hand one more time then let it go.

Chapter Text

I found the three men in the waiting room, each nervously fiddling with a paper cup of coffee. They all shot up from their seats when I entered.
«Right guys, sorry that took a while, his eyes were sort of glued shut with blood so I had to clean him up a little». I quickly filled them in on how he was doing, and that the images showed nothing but a badly busted nose and a concussion. I showed them into the room, admonished them to go easy on Richard, and left them alone for a while, retreating to the nurse's station for a cup of coffee. Filling my mug I realized my hands were shaking, the adrenaline starting to leave my system. Walking past the door, Tess spotted me on the sofa and did a u-turn, entering the room.
«You're all bloody,» she observed, pointing at my tunic. Looking down I saw that she was right, I looked like I'd ritualistically slaughtered a cow.
«Oh... yeah...» I mumbled, shakily having a sip of coffee.
«Just so you know, I've given you the rest of the day off. Not that you're going to go home, anyway, I know that, but... Just focus on him, all right?» Grabbing her own mug and filling it up, she sat down opposite me, staring me down expectantly. «So..?» She prompted after a while.
«So... what?» I frowned, genuinely not following.
«Him! How do you know him? You've never told me you know him!» She gestured wildly with her free hand. Tess wasn't one for asking personal questions, 95% of the time she was professional and very rarely talked or asked about anything personal. But this time she evidently couldn't seem to stop herself.
«Oh, um... I had a tiny temp job at the studio, in Dunsfold, and we both have dogs, so we started taking them for walks together, hanging out...» I answered evasively, feeling a little uncomfortable about suddenly talking to Tess about my personal life. And talking about a relationship I more often than not found wholly indefinable and confusing.
«You called him your best mate,» she pointed out, ever the observant one.
«Well.. because he is,» I shrugged, not really knowing how to explain it in any other way. She kept looking at me, obviously suspecting there was more to it than that. «We spend a lot of time together, we have fun, our dogs had puppies together, you know, we're just.. really good friends.»
«A-ha...» Tess said disbelievingly, squinting at me.
"What?" I asked, raising my eyebrows at her innocently.
"You called him 'love'. Twice," she added pointedly.
"No, I didn't," I sighed, rolling my eyes at her. Had I?
«You definitely did. Anyway, I better run, I have things to do. Glad to hear he wasn't seriously hurt.» She emptied the dredges of her coffee into the sink and disappeared. Having emptied my own cup, I headed for the wardrobe to find a clean tunic, then made my way back to Richard. I met James, Jeremy, and Andy in the hallway, they were headed back to the track to clear up the mess, handle the press and most importantly figure out what the hell went wrong with that car. They were all acting so differently now, no bad jokes or childish teasing, now they were all concerned and serious. All three gave me a hug and promised to check in on Richard later and asked me to take good care of him in the meantime. Richard opened an eye and squinted at me as I entered the room, then smiled weakly at me.
«How are you feeling?» I asked, sitting down on the chair by his bed.
«Miserable,» he pouted. «My head hurts, and I'm nauseous.» He looked pale and queasy.
«Hm, you might be nauseous just because of the blow to the head, or the blood loss. Or maybe a reaction to the pain medication. Remember if morphine has made you queasy before?" At this question, Richard just shook his head. "I can go find some meds that might help with nausea, though. And some painkillers?» I offered.
«Yeah, that'd be nice...» he mumbled, obviously not feeling good. I hurried out of the room to get what he needed. When I returned I discarded several syringes on the nightstand before handing him a glass of ice water. Habitually, having done this a thousand times before, I unscrewed the stopper on the IV cannula and flushed it with saline before injecting meds against nausea as well as painkillers. All the while I felt Richard eyes on me, studying what I was doing.
«What?» I asked, not taking my eyes off the syringe I was holding.
«Nothing,» he shrugged. «I've just never seen you do all these nurse-y things before, it's a bit... weird.»
«You probably shouldn't call the nurse handling your morphine weird, you know» I warned, looking pointedly at the syringe full of pain meds. He made a face, which he immediately regretted.
«Sorry, no, you're not weird at all, you're a perfect nurse and a perfect human being,» he rambled apologetically, and we shared a quiet chuckle. «Ron, would I have to stay here overnight? Please don't tell me I have to, I want to go home, to my bed...»
«I don't know yet, to be honest. It depends on a few things. After this blood has gone in we'll check your hemoglobin again, that must have risen past a certain amount, or you'll need another bag. Other than that, it depends a bit on what the doctor decides. I mean, you're awake and coherent, you weren't unconscious for too long, we haven't found any severe injuries that dictate you having to stay here, and your vitals seem stable. On the other hand, most doctors tend to want to keep head trauma patients in at least overnight for observation..." When I explained this, Richard frowned and sighed, his shoulders sagging, obviously not happy about the prospect of a night at the hospital. "But the doctors might let you out of here tonight if I offer to look after you?»
«Will you do that?» He asked, looking insecure.
«Of course I will, whether you have to stay here overnight or get sent home,» I assured him. I wasn't going to leave him tonight, I knew that already. Richard opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by a gentle knock on the door.
«Ron, come here a minute?» Tess poked her head in and beckoned me with a finger. I hurried over to her, raising my eyebrows quizzically, but she took a step back, inviting me into the hallway, and even closed the door behind me. «Listen, there's this woman here saying she wants to see Richard,» she hissed conspiratorially.
«Huh, who?»
«The people at the desk called her when he came in, she was listed as his next of kin, as his... his wife,» Tess said. She looked at me as if Richard having a wife would come as a terrible shock to me.
«What, Mindy!? Short woman, bushy hair?» I gestured to my own hair as if Tess won't know what hair is.
“You have balls calling anyone short,» she observed dryly.
«Tess!» I hissed.
«Yes, that sounds like her...»
«She's his ex-wife!» I groaned, rubbing my temple tiredly. «Why is she still listed as his next-of-kin?»
«These things don't change automatically, he would've had to change it himself. He probably didn't know he had to,» Tess suggested.
«Okay, okay. Just.. keep her out there, I'll come to talk to her in a minute,» I grumbled, turned on my heel, and tore open the door to Richard's room again. He startled and his eyes flew open at the abrupt sound. Trying to calm myself before speaking I drew a deep breath. I didn't know what had made me more annoyed, the fact that they called her or that she was actually here. But I knew that this wasn't Richard's fault, and I realized he might even want to see her.
«Something wrong?»
«Richard... Mindy is here." I tried to keep my voice as neutral as possible. «She's still listed as your next-of-kin, so they called her when you came in, I didn't know about it.» He frowned, forgetting that it hurt to do so, then he immediately winced.
«And she actually came?»
«Looks that way. Want me to go get her?» I offered kindly, gesturing to the door.
«No, don't...» He mumbled, looking a little upset.
«Richard, it's okay, if you want to see her...» I began. They had slept together just a few days ago, if he said he wanted to see her it wouldn't come as a big surprise.
«See, that's the thing, I don't,» he said, raising his voice a little. «I have quite enough dealing with just myself right now, I really don't want to have to deal with her as well.»
«... No? You sure?» I asked again.
«Yeah, I'm sure. Tell her that I'm fine and everything, but I just.. don't want her here, to be honest. Besides... I have you,» he said with a shy little shrug. This sentiment had me stunned for a moment.
«Oh, okay.. I'll go.. um, talk to her, then.»
«I'm sorry, Ron, I don't want to put you in the middle of this, can't you find someone else to talk to her?»
«Don't worry about it, Richard, I can handle her,» I sniffed, trying to sound confident. Despite himself, he gave a little snort of laughter.
«Remember what happened the last time you met her?» He reminded me.
«Shut up, or I'm cutting you off the morphine. Be right back.» Stepping out into the hallway I closed the door behind me, taking a moment to gather my courage and square my shoulders. Eventually, I found Mindy in the waiting room, and I was very grateful to find that it was otherwise empty. At the sound of my footsteps, her head snapped around, and her face fell comically as she recognized me.
«... You?» She said, somehow managing to incorporate both shock, incredulity, anger, and pure condescension into this one syllable.
«Hi, my name is Ronja,» I said, with as much professionalism as I could muster, reaching out a hand toward her.
«I know who you are,» she said flatly, staring coldly at my outstretched hand.
«Well, then you might also know that I am a nurse, and I work here,» I informed her, a little edge to my voice now.
«Someone called me, told me that Richard was in an accident,» she plowed on, eager to show how utterly disinterested she was in anything regarding me.
«Yes, that's correct. You're still listed as his next-of-kin, and they automatically call the person listed as next-of-kin if something happens. There was some mechanical malfunction on a car he was driving down at the track, it caused the car to stop very abruptly. He hit his head on the steering wheel, broke his nose, and consequently lost quite a bit of blood. Other than that he's awake, and has no other injuries.» I had donned my neutral, professional manner, anything to make this feel less personal and awkward.
«OK, fine, whatever, where is he?» She rolled her eyes impatiently, and crossed her arm across her chest, seemingly very bored with me.
«I um... can't show you where he is, I'm afraid.»
«What?» She narrowed her eyes at me.
«I asked him, and he says he doesn't want to see you,» I said as neutrally and mildly as possible. «I'm sorry.»
«But they called me!»
«Yes, I know that. As I said, you're still listed as his next-of-kin, it's just routine. He hasn't manually changed it, hence you got a call.» I tried to sound empathetic and apologetic but knew that she hated me all the same.
«And as his next-of-kin, I want to see him!» She said, her voice a little shrill now.
«I get that, but he doesn't want to see you. Being his next-of-kin on paper gives you the chance to see him, but not the right to.»
«I'm his wife!» She argued stupidly.
«Um... Ex-wife.» I couldn't resist the temptation of pointing this out to her, which I instantly realized was probably a mean thing to do. They signed their papers a few days ago.
«This is fucking ridiculous!» She shrieked incredulously.
«I'm sorry that you had to come all the way out here for nothing...» I mumbled, wringing my own hands nervously, finding it harder and harder to keep up the appearance of confidence. «As I said, he's doing all right. His nose is busted and he has a small concussion, but he'll be right as rain.»
«You fucking put him up to this!» She pointed angrily at me.
«No, Miranda, I promise you I didn't. I told him you were here, asked him if he wanted to see you, and he said no. He has the right to decide that for himself.” More than anything I wanted to run out of there and hide away from this angry woman, but I realized that would be rather unprofessional. Besides, I had done that once before, run away from this woman, so I decided to stand my ground this time. After a long silence in which she just glared at me angrily, she took a step forward.
«You're a cunt,» she hissed. The plain immaturity of this made me just look at her in disbelief, my head tilted slightly to one side. After a moment it was as if she realized for herself just how stupid her outburst had been, and she rushed out of the room.
«Well, that went well,» I sighed to myself. Making it back to Richard's room I snuck through the hallways like a clumsy ninja, in case Mindy had decided to spy on me to figure out where he was. Closing the door of his room behind me I let out a relieved sigh.
«You're still alive...» he observed sarcastically.
«Shut up, Rudolf,» I grumbled back, sinking into the chair by his bed.
«How did it go?»
«I'm a cunt, apparently," I sighed with a shrug.
«What?» He squeaked, outraged.
«Oh, don't worry about it,» I waved. «She was upset, I can understand her in a way, she was the person closest to you for many years. She hasn't gotten used to not being that.»
«God, you're too understanding,» he huffed. «I'm sorry, I shouldn't have put you in that situation, I should've just told her myself.»
«I said, don't worry about it, focus on yourself. How are you? How's the pain?»
«The nausea is gone, but it still hurts like a bitch.»
«Yeah, I held back on the pain medication, in case that was what made you nauseous.» Getting out of my chair I rummaged through my pockets to find the syringe with what was left of the pain medication. «You might go a bit drowsy now.»
«You're staying here, right?» He took his eyes off the syringe to look at me.
«Of course I am, silly.» The extra dose of painkillers knocked Richard out, and I passed the time by reading old, boring magazines and checking blood tests. Having talked to the doctor, he had agreed to discharge Richard on certain conditions, as long as his hemoglobin was above a certain level. I knew we had to wait a few hours after the blood transfusion to check his hemoglobin again, and they passed incredibly slowly. A gentle knock on the door tore me out of a half-slumber, and to my surprise, James poked his head through the door. I quickly got to my feet and hurry over to him, stepping out into the hallway so I could talk to him without waking Richard, but leaving the door open.
«Haven't you gone home yet?» I looked at my lapel watch that said 7.30 pm.
«I'm on my way now, I just wanted to stop by and see how he is. And how you are,» James added, looking at me intently.
«I knocked him out with some painkillers, that face of his is going to really hurt for a while. He's been given blood, just waiting until we can do another check on his blood levels, if they're good I'll take him home later.»
«Home? I thought they'd at least keep him overnight,» James frowned.
«The perks of being friends with a nurse," I smiled at James. "You're right, normally they wouldn't let him go home, but his vitals have been stable and he's coherent. He really wants to go home, he'll be better off in his own bed. But I'll monitor him overnight, check his GCS and keep an eye on him.»
«And how are you doing, then?» He asked again pointedly.
«Oh, I'm fine. Better off than him!» I snorted. James just kept looking at me, waiting for me to drop the act. «It's been a long day, I admit. It was a shock, realizing who was on that gurney. I'm just... so incredibly grateful he didn't hurt himself more than he did,» I sighed, closing my eyes for a second in relief.
«Yeah, me too...» James sighed, shuffling his feet a little. «I think Richard was very glad that you were here today. I mean, I met Emily this way, cracking my head open, I was terrified, but then she came along and... I didn't even really know her, I'd just met her, but having her around really helped.»
“Good thing both Emily and I are nurses, huh?» I smiled up at him. "You guys insist on cracking your heads open constantly."
«It would've meant a lot to him even if you weren't, Ronja,» he said matter-of-factly. «I wish he could see everything he has in you, and that he could appreciate it.» The weight of these words hit me like a brick wall, and I immediately exploded into tears, all my pent-up emotions bursting out of me. All the fears and worries, the relief, all the frustration I had towards him, everything came to the surface. After four or five sobs I managed to get a grip on myself, waving my hands frantically in front of my face.
«God, James, I'm sorry...» I sniffed, frantically wiping away tears. "Must be the adrenaline."
«No, no, that's okay. I just have that effect on Norwegian women, it seems,» he shrugged, surprisingly calm at my emotional outburst. He even reached out and gave me a long hug.
«I didn't think Captain Slow knew what to do when girls started crying?» I sniffled as I gratefully hugged him back.
«I've learned, I had to when I am living with someone like Emily,» he smiled as he pulled away. «And speaking of, I better get home. Keep me posted, yeah?»
«Of course,» I nodded with a final sniff, smiling at him. «Drive safe, and say hi to Emily.» James had just been about to turn around when he remembered something. «Oh, by the way, I brought some of Hammond's stuff, wallet and phone, and things, figured he might need it. I didn't mean to pry, but the phone kept going off, Mindy must've gotten wind of what happened somehow, she's been calling constantly.» James pulled a sympathetic face.
«I know, she's been here, too,» I sighed, accepting Richard's things.
«What, here?»
«She's still listed as his next-of-kin, so they called her.»
«From all those calls I'm guessing she hasn't seen him?»
«He didn't want to. I asked him if he wanted to see her, but he said he didn't," I explained with a shrug.
«I guess he doesn't need her. Goodnight, Ron.» And with that, he turned around and shuffled off. I blinked a little, staring after him.

A few hours later I supported an unsteady, slightly drugged Richard out of the ER and into my car. His hemoglobin was good and his vitals were still stable. The nose tampons had been removed, the bleeding had stopped and the doctor had taped up his nose to the best of his ability. I'd stolen a pillow from his hospital bed and propped it behind his head, and he was asleep before we left the parking lot. With the car still running I dropped by my own house, quickly packed some things, and let Sprocket have a wee before shoving him in his crate in the back. At first, I had thought I could take Richard to my house, but I realized his t-shirt was cut up by the paramedics, the rest of his clothes were drenched in blood, the only thing clean on him was a hospital shirt and I had nothing he could wear. I hadn't liked the prospect of driving that far with Richard being in the state he was in, but he slept through most of it, exhausted from medication and everything that has happened. The dogs were at Kristin's, and I'd arranged for them to stay there until tomorrow.
«Come on Richard, wakey wakey, you're home.» I supported him out of the car and flatly denied when he rather sweetly offered to carry a bag for me. «Worry about staying on your own two feet, thank you!» I ordered, nudging him towards the door while carrying my backpack and a bag of supplies and meds from the hospital. Sprocket lumbered in after us, wondering slightly what was going on and why Richard was acting so strangely. Richard kicked off his shoes and boldly started tackling the stairs on his own, wobbling slightly. «Richard, hang on! You're stoned out of your mind, you'll fall down the stairs and properly hurt yourself,» I grumbled, hurrying after him. I wrapped an arm around his back and supported him upstairs.
«I am not stoned,» Richard slurred as we reached the top of the stairs, displaying a latency time of about two minutes.
«You remind me of Sprocket when he came back from the vets after I had him fixed,» I observed dryly, and Richard immediately pulled a face. After Teegee's illegitimate pregnancy, I had decided to get Sprocket fixed for my own peace of min.
«They didn't fix me, did they?» Richard hissed, looking terrified.
«Not in the sense that they removed your plums, no,» I reassured him. He immediately launched into a fit of hysterical, childish giggling at the mere mention of the word plums.
«Okay, I might be a little stoned,» he conceded quietly.
«Your hair really needs a wash, you have more blood in it than in your actual body.»
«Really?» Gingerly Richard raised a hand and felt his hair, which was sticky and stiff. «Ew. I'll just go have a shower, then.» He twirled around and headed for the bathroom, still wobbling. I quickly followed him inside.
«No, I'm... I'm not letting you do that on your own.» I stammered.
«What do you mean 'not letting me?» He asked annoyedly, his hospital shirt already half-off.
«I mean, you've lost a lot of blood, you're on strong painkillers, and you've hit your head pretty hard. You could pass out in there and I don't fancy fishing you naked up from the floor. Besides, you could break your neck if you fell, and that is not a dignified way to go, Richard, naked and wet!»
«But how am I gonna get this off?» he argued, gesturing to his hair. I looked at him for a second, thinking.
«All right, strip to your boxers, sit in the bathtub and I'll help you out,» I ordered, pointing from him to the bathtub.
“Ron, no, I am not letting you give me a bath!” He argued, the angry, little bloke riling himself up.
“Yes you will, or I'll hide your painkillers!” I threatened “Or send you back to the hospital!” He glared at me defiantly but seeing the stubborn look I shot back at him, his shoulders sagged. He looked at me with defeat in his eyes, he knew it was either accepting my help or risking breaking his neck naked in a shower.
“I don't think I have the will to argue,” he moaned.
“Good. Now get in the tub,» I commanded. «Shout when you're ready.» I exited the bathroom to give him a modicum of privacy. Heading for his bedroom I deposited my bag of medical supplies and meds and my own backpack. Realizing he would need a dry pair of boxers and a clean t-shirt I hesitantly approach a chest of drawers. It felt very weird, and a little wrong, going through his drawers on the hunt for clothes. 'Needs must', I thought, finding a t-shirt then sighed with relief when I opened a drawer full of boxers and grabbed the first pair I could lay my hands on. Distantly I heard his voice calling me from the bathroom, and then I heard the water running. He was obediently sitting in his bathtub, boxers on, looking like a scolded, very unhappy puppy.
«Oh don't give me that look,» I huffed as I got down on my knees by the bathtub
“But this is so weird, Ron!” He argued loudly. “Ow.. shouting hurts,” he muttered, flinching.
“Then quit shouting,” I sighed. Taking the shower from him I checked the temperature before I let the water flow over his hair and shoulders. Richard looked at me with a forlorn, almost shameful look. «Do you have any idea how many people I've washed and showered in my career? And in far stranger ways than this! I'm grateful this is just blood!» At this, he snorted with laughter, then winced. I tried to focus on the task at hand, but my eyes kept wandering over his bare torso and legs. Hanging his head Richard looked at the water flowing past his legs towards the drain. “Bloody hell, that looks horrifying.”
“Like the shower scene in Psycho, really." Out of old habit more than anything else I poured shampoo into my hands and begin massaging his head. With a smirk I noticed how he closed his eyes and relaxed, his head hanging limply off his shoulders. “Doesn't feel so bad now, huh, getting a bath?” I observed. 
“Mmmmmno, this feels nice, actually..." He mumbled drowsily.
“Don't get too used to it.” With a hand on his forehead, I leaned his head back a little, rinsing out the shampoo. Whatever blood he'd had on his chest and back had washed away as well, so I turned off the water and dug a few towels out of the cupboard. With a careful eye, I watched as Richard got out of the bathtub, even holding out my hands to catch him in case he slipped, but thankfully he didn't notice it. As soon as he was out of it and on his feet I handed him a towel and left the bathroom. I had invaded too much of his privacy already today. I also needed to get away from the sight of Richard in just a pair of wet boxers. Heading downstairs I grabbed a few bottles of water and a can of Coke from the fridge before heading upstairs again. A few minutes later Richard shuffled into his own bedroom looking like a different man now that all the blood was gone. The nose still looked like a train wreck, though. With a low groan, he sagged down on the bed.
“I had a pee on my own, I hope that was okay,” he announced sarcastically, eyes closed.
“Yeah, I wasn't going to hold it for you, if that's what you thought,” I shot back.
“Damn, just when I thought I could turn this 'being helpless'-thing into something positive,” he sighed, smiling weakly. I rummaged around in a plastic bag for his pills. “What a fucking day.”
“Amen,” I sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed next to him. “Here, pills.” I handed him a few tablets and an opened bottle of water.
“What's that?”
“Pain medication, and anti-emetics.”
“Anti-what-now?”
“They help with nausea. The morphine is going to leave your system soon, so you'll have to top up on pain meds before that happens.”
“Oh... OK,” he shrugged, accepting the pills and water without further question, took them then laid back down.
“Listen, the doctor was all right with discharging you today only because he knew I'd be looking after you. So I'm going to wake you up a few times during the night, check your pupils, your blood pressure, and generally bug you.”
“Okay...” he nodded, obviously having given up on the idea of arguing with me. On his nightstand, there was a little, black box that I placed next to him on the bed. It had a wire on it, and I placed the little clip at the end of it on his finger, then secured it in place with medical tape.
“Pulse oximeter. I bought it for when we were going to Africa, actually. Thankfully I never had a need for it down there. It measures your O² saturation, how much oxygen you're getting, along with your pulse. It makes an alarm if your oxygen levels drop below 85%. Just, you know, in case you... start dying,” I shrugged.
“Good, good, wouldn't want that, no,” he nodded slowly, studying the thing on his fingertip.
“Listen, do you want something to eat? You hungry?”
“No, not really...”
“All right, I can't blame you. But I'm starving, I'll just run down and eat quickly, be back in a bit.” I gobbled down a sandwich, not wanting to leave Richard alone for too long. I knew I was being ridiculous and over-cautious, but the fear that had gripped me when I realized who my patient was, before knowing how bad his injuries really were, still lingered. If I had wanted to be on the absolutely safe side, I wouldn't have taken him home, but let him stay at the hospital. But I knew he wasn't very fond of hospitals anymore, not after his horrible accident a few years ago, and I couldn't blame him. Returning upstairs he seemed to be asleep, so I snuck in quietly, grabbed my backpack, and headed to the bathroom to change into my pajamas. As all the other dogs were away, I didn't have the heart to make Sprocket sleep in 'the dogs' room' all by himself, so I'd folded up a duvet from the guest bedroom and placed it on the floor next to the bed. He was happily asleep, and I had to clumsily step over him to get into bed while trying to not wake Richard. Even though it had only been twenty minutes since I checked it last, I cautiously leaned over Richard to check the pulse oximeter lying next to him on the mattress.
“Am I dead yet?” Richard mumbled without even opening his eyes, his heavy with drowsiness and pain medication.
“Not even a little bit.” There was a long silence. When he spoke again his voice startled me, as I was sure he'd fallen asleep.
“Ron...? Why are you doing all this for me?”
“What do you mean?” I frowned in the semi-darkness of the bedroom.
“You know... being here, helping me with everything, taking care of me... I thought you were really angry with me.” I paused for a moment, trying to figure out how to best answer this.
“Richard... You really scared the life out of me today. You... You're the closest thing I have to family, to having.. anyone, so... This isn't a choice. I just have to do this.” A stunned silence followed these words. I didn't even know what made me say it, but it was the closest I had gotten to being completely honest with him in ages. Richard inched over from his back to his side a little awkwardly, then he reached out to me, his hand finding mine, our fingers interlacing.
“Thanks, Ron... I really don't know what I would've done if you weren't there today.”
“You would've been taken care of by amazing doctors and some other wonderfully capable nurses,” I said modestly, sort of knowing that wasn't what he meant.
“I know, but... It wouldn't have been the same.” He squeezed my hand but didn't let it go, just held it until he drifted off to sleep.

Chapter Text

Richard was still fast asleep when I woke up the next morning. I had slept restlessly all night, waking up almost every hour, unable to resist the temptation of checking on Richard every time I did. I woke him up at 6 am to give him more pain medication before the pain level had a chance to peak. He fell asleep again almost immediately. At 9 am I gave up and swung my legs out of bed, deciding to get up. I let Sprocket out and started on breakfast for both me and Richard. Half an hour later I was balancing a tray up the stairs, Sprocket following close behind.
«Oh... you're awake! Did I make that much of a racket in the kitchen?» Entering the bedroom I was surprised to find that Richard was awake and on his phone.
«No, it was more the absence of your ever present snoring that woke me up,» he shot back, quick as ever.
«I was going to give you breakfast, but I think I'll just keep it all to myself,» I smirked, doing a graceful u-turn on the bedroom floor as if I was walking out again.
«Ron, come back, you don't snore!» He shouted. Accepting it as an apology of sorts I re-entered the bedroom and placed the tray on my side of the bed. I was just about to open my mouth and say something when Richard's phone suddenly went off. «Bollocks! Fuck!» He swore loudly, looking at the ringing phone as if it was a grenade.
«Huh?»
«It's mah mum! She's probably read about the accident in the papers or something! I didn't call her last night! She's going to be.... apocalyptically cross! Here, you take it! Please, Ron! Say I'm asleep! Please!» Richard was suddenly reduced to a terrified little boy, scared out of his wits that his mummy was going to give him a good telling-off. His insistent, panicked begging almost made me laugh, and just to calm him down I snatched the phone from him and headed for the corridor before picking up. If I was going to have to talk to his mother and lie through my teeth while doing it, I wasn't having him listening in.
«Richard's phone.» I adapted the same professional tone of voice I normally reserved for picking up the phone at work.
«Oh, um... Hello, my name is Eileen, I'm his mother. I just read the newspaper, something about Richard being in an accident? Forgive me for asking, but who is this?» She sounded rather distraught.
«Oh, hello Mrs. Hammond. I'm Ronja, I'm a nurse and work at the ER in Guildford. I'm also a friend of Richard's. He's asleep right now.»
«But is he all right? The papers didn't say-»
«Yes, he's all right, don't worry,» I hurried to inform her, anxious to calm her down. «Something happened with the car he was driving on the track, the wheels locked up, and he hit his head on the steering wheel. He broke his nose and sustained a mild concussion, but we found no other injuries.»
«So he hasn't hurt his... brain again?» By the sound of her voice, she was nearly on the verge of tears as she asked this.
«No, Mrs. Hammond. He only lost consciousness for a short while, and he's been completely lucid and coherent after that. Scans showed no bleeds, skull fractures, or other injuries.»
«Oh thank god,» she sighed with relief. «Where is he, is he at the hospital or...?»
«No, he's at home. He was discharged last night, so I brought him home, and stayed here overnight to observe him.»
«Oh... Thank you for keeping an eye on him, that makes me breathe a little easier...»
«I'm sorry that you've been so concerned, I'm sure he didn't mean to upset you like that. He was given quite a bit of pain medication at the hospital, he was pretty out of it yesterday, slept all the way from Guildford to here, and...»
«That's all right, I understand,» she said, sounding a lot calmer now. «You shouldn't have to make apologies for him, though. This doesn't mean he's off the hook! I don't like finding these things out in the bloody newspaper! No matter how high he is on morphine he should think to call his own mother when he gets in an accident! It's not like he hurt his brain or anything!» She added, and I couldn't help but laugh. I could see where Richard got his humor now.
«I'll be sure to let him know, Mrs. Hammond, I promise.» She then went on to tell me that her son had mentioned me and she was obviously curious about who I was. Mrs. Hammond seemed to be unusually chatty this morning. Or maybe this was how she usually was. She also thanked me profusely for watching out for her son, before finally letting me go. When I re-entered the bedroom Richard looked at me with fear in his eyes.
«You've talked to her forever!» He mumbled through a mouth full of breakfast, fear in his eyes.
«I had to talk her out of disowning you, didn't I?» I plonked down on the bed and grabbed a slice of toast that had now gone cold.
«Was she that mad?» He squeaked in fear.
«Not really. She was a very worried mother, mostly.»
«God, I feel bad now, I should've thought about calling her...» He shifted uneasily on the bed, looking shameful.
«You were pretty stoned, and exhausted. Frankly, it didn't even occur to me that you should inform your family, and I do this for a living. But she told me to let you know you're not off the hook for not calling her,» I informed him.
«Oh, I know,» he nodded, completely unsurprised by this. «Thank you so much for breakfast, you didn't have to do that.»
«Having your nose smashed beyond recognition warrants a breakfast in bed, I reckoned,» I shrugged. «Listen, I'm going to tidy this up and then I'll take Sprocket for a walk, I could walk over to Kristin's and get the others, walk them back here.»
«I would offer to come along, but...» He shrugged apologetically, looking at me over his cup of tea.
«That's kind of you, but to be honest I don't think you're up for that. You just rest, have a nap or something,» I waved. He looked pale and tired, and his nose was about as swollen as it got.
«Okay...» he nodded quietly, not putting up a fight. I tidied up after our breakfast, got dressed, and left for Kristin's.

The walk took about 20 minutes, and when I arrived I was greeted with tea and cakes. I had to fill her in on what had happened to Richard, and she listened with wide-eyed horror. She was much more to Richard than just someone who watched after his dogs every now and again, she'd grown into much more than that, like a fussy aunt, she cared about him. And he appreciated her fussing and her taking care of him. After about an hour at her kitchen table, I was anxious to get back, I knew I was being ridiculous but I wanted to get back and check on Richard, even though I knew he was fine. Kristin understood my restlessness and let me go, but not before she'd given me a box of cakes for Richard. Balancing five dogs and a box of cake for twenty minutes was a challenge in and of itself, but about halfway the skies opened and it began to pour. 'Oh yeah, they warned yesterday a storm was coming. Should've remembered that' I grumbled to myself. Neither the jacket I was wearing, nor the shoes, were waterproof, and by the time I reached the house I was exhausted, drenched, and frozen to the bone. Leaving the dogs in the front yard I got out of my sodden shoes and tiptoed on soggy socks through the kitchen and into the dogs' room, unlocking the door from the inside, and called them in. From a cupboard, I grabbed a pile of old towels and started to dry the dogs off. I ended up shedding most of my own clothes, as they were so wet and cold I was shaking uncontrollably. Having done my best with the dogs I turned up the heating on the floor a little, made sure they had water, and left them to dry off and have a nap. Wearing just my underwear and a t-shirt I hobbled through the house and up the stairs, longing for a warm shower. I opened the door to Richard's bedroom, hoping he was asleep and wouldn't see me in this state, half-naked and looking like a drowned dog. But he was sitting upright in bed, resting against a pile of pillows, staring at his iPad. Spotting me over the top of the screen his eyes widened.
«Oh no, you got caught out in this?» He asked stupidly. The rain was hammering on the roof, a torrential downpour that didn't seem like it was going to let up soon. His eyes traveled up and down my body several times.
«N-n-n-n-no, I went for a swim in the creek,» I stammered, picking my bag off the floor to find some dry clothes. Eager to get away from Richard's stare I quickly shuffled into the bathroom and jumped into the shower. No amount of hot water seemed to help, however, so I gave up after a while, dried off, and put on my pajama bottoms and a t-shirt. Richard was still awake when I returned to the bedroom, but he had put the iPad down.
«Better?» He asked, but I just shook my head as I walked over to the bed and crawled under the duvet.
«N-n-n-no, I can't seem to get warm.» My teeth were clattering in my head, and I pulled the duvet right up to my nose, wrapping myself up like a burrito.
«You got pretty soaked, huh?»
«Yeah, it started about halfway, I forgot that the forecast said rainstorm, so I wasn't exactly dressed for it. And it was windy.» I was still shaking, and he noticed.
«I can help warm you up..?» he offered. That offer was one I knew I would be completely unable to refuse, even though I knew I should. Having lost my voice all I could do was nod gratefully. «Okay. Come here, then,» he said mildly, and as I inched closer to him he wrapped his arms and his duvet around me.
«This is going to be cold...» I muttered warningly, but even so, he drew me close, and I came to rest lying half on top of him, with an arm and a leg draped over him, and my head on his chest. My body was still shaking and I did my best to try and lie still. Richard ran both his palms over my back vigorously, trying to get some warmth back into me. «I did my best to dry the dogs off, they're in their room, I turned up the floor heating a little so they won't get cold. Oh, and there's cake for you downstairs, from Kristin, it was in a box so don't think it got wet.»
«Okay... Good,» he mumbled, still rubbing my back.
«I'm not crushing you, am I?»
«Don't be ridiculous, of course you're not. You're tiny.»
«Thanks for this, Richard...» I mumbled against his t-shirt.
«Oh come on, with everything you've done for me, this is the least I can do,» he scoffed.
«Why do you and I always end up like this?» The question fell out of me before I was even aware of having thought of it, and I instantly regretted it. I expected Richard to freeze up, and to ask questions about my question, but he did neither.
«Hm, I don't know...» he admitted, sounding thoughtful, but closing his arms closer around me. «We just do, it's our thing, I guess,» he shrugged. I could feel how the warmth was starting to trickle back into my body, my shaking subsided and finally, I could relax a little. When Richard's voice broke the silence, it was small and regretful. «Ronja... I think I understand why you get angry with me...»
«Oh...?» I mumbled, but I didn't dare move or look up at him. And didn't even know what I was afraid of.
«I bring nothing but misery into your life, do I? With my divorce, my breakdowns, and all the stupid mistakes that I come whining to you about. Or by not paying you enough attention when I really should have, or getting into stupid accidents that end up giving you a lot of work. Not to mention emerging from your bedroom when your boyfriend comes over...»
«He really wasn't my boyfriend,» I pointed out with a humorless chuckle, squeezing him.
«I know, but I probably ruined that he could potentially become one.»
«Don't worry, he was never going to be either,» I persisted.
«You said I was ruining your life...» he said, his voice sad and small.
«I didn't mean that Richard, you're not ruining my life, of course not,» I sighed, squeezing him reassuringly again with my arm. «I meant to say sorry to you about that, and about getting so angry that morning, I just... blew everything out of proportions.»
«If I ever made you feel... used, or like I was taking advantage of you, I'm really sorry about that, I never meant to. I know I've cried a lot on your shoulder, but that doesn't mean you're just a security blanket to me... It's just that... Most times it feels like you're the only one I can talk to, or want to talk to. But I realize that being friends with me can probably get a little... intense, and you must get sick of it sometimes. So... if you need some space, just.. tell me, and I'll back away for a while.» While Richard talked I listen intently, surprised by everything he was saying. Because even if Richard and I talked a lot, it was very rare for him to talk like this, about me and him. About us. And now that he'd finished I didn't really know what to say. Having thought for a moment I looked up at him, my chin resting on his chest. He looked at me nervously, as if he was expecting me to declare that I needed a break right away and march out of the house.
“Richard, you getting in an accident and me taking care of you, that isn't work. Being here and helping you out, being there for you, that has never felt like work or an obligation. I'm here because I want to be. Yes, so it gets a little intense sometimes, but... I get intense too? I shout and yell stupid things that I don't really mean. It's just who we are; we have wobblers, we do stupid things, we make mistakes, we get into accidents and fight and shout a little, but we always end up like this. It's our thing.» I smiled. Richard smiled back, though a little uncertainly, he still felt guilty about everything. "How's your nose feeling?"
"Sore...," he mumbled. "I forgot for a minute earlier and scratched it, that hurt like hell."
"Did you get some sleep while I was out?"
"Mno, I couldn't," he shrugged.
"Fancy taking a nap with me, then?" I mumbled, feeling my eyelids growing heavier
"Mmm." By the sound of his voice, he was already half asleep.

Chapter Text

I woke up in the exact same position I fell asleep in, nestled up against Richard with my head on his chest. I had slept heavily, needing to catch up on some sleep after last night's frequent wake-up calls. His hand was caressing my arm, so gently I doubted that was what woke me up.
"You awake?" I croaked, quietly not to wake him up.
"Mm..." He sighed. I tilted my head back to look up at him.
"Been awake long?"
"Mno, not really. I don't know.”
"Fancy a cup of tea? I think I'll go make some. I can make dinner later. Maybe. Unless I just call for take-out."
"Tea sounds good. I really need to get out of this bed for a bit,” he groaned.
"Okay. Tea, then." And then, just as I was about to move away from him, I kissed him. It was only a tiny peck on the lips, so quick that I hardly even felt it, a typical little sign of adoration you would give a boyfriend or a lover when you got out of bed or leave for work in the morning. Pulling back hastily we looked at each other with puzzled frowns on both our faces, as if we were both wondering "What the hell was that?" I shook my head a fraction and then we both burst out laughing, it was the only thing we could think to do. "I'm just going to blame that one on still being half asleep," I chuckled, still shaking my head a little, then I got out of bed. Richard just laughed, raising his eyebrows as if to say "Oh really?" I desperately tried to hang on to my laughter until I was out of the room, if only just to hide how mortified I was. How could I have just done that? I had done it as if it was a reflex or a habit that I had done so many times that I just did it without thinking. But it wasn't a habit - I had only kissed him once before, and that was a long time ago, and in very different circumstances. Somehow the lines between us, those invisible lines that marked intimacy and personal space, were becoming so blurred that kissing him felt like a natural thing to do. But it wasn't natural, we were just friends. In the kitchen, I flicked the kettle on before letting the dogs out of their room. They milled around me while I bustled around the kitchen making tea. Boot gave a single warning bark when he heard footsteps on the stairs.
«Oh, who's that? Can it be daddy? Go check it out! Go say hi!» I encouraged them, and they all ran to the bottom of the stairs to greet Richard. He crooned happily at them and petted them all, and they all trailed after him into the kitchen. Seeing him up and about just underlined how bad his nose really looked, and I flinched at the sight of him. «Oofh, have you looked at yourself in the mirror today?» I asked as he sat down on a chair.
«No, I haven't dared, to be honest, I consciously avoided looking in the mirror in the bathroom earlier. Is it that bad?»
«You don't have any telly shoots scheduled any time soon, do you?»
«All right, message received, thank you very much,» he sighed.
"Just wait until your periorbital hematoma starts showing," I warned him.
"The what?"
"When you hit your nose that hard, blood vessels in the eye sockets often burst. Then you get something we often call 'raccoon eyes', which basically looks like you have two black eyes, even though you haven't actually been hit in the eyes."
"Oh good..." Richard muttered dryly as I placed a mug of tea on the kitchen table in front of him. «What, I don't get a kiss with it?» He asked cheekily.
«Shut up or I'll flick your nose,» I growled, my face instantly growing red hot.
«Oooh, tough love, I like it,» he grinned.
«I will hide your codeine and break your conk all over again!»
«Aw, that's not fair. I had a good nose, if you do that I'll end up looking like... that French bloke, Gerard something...» He snapped his fingers, trying to remember the name.
«Depardieu?» I offered.
«Yes, him,» Richard pointed at me.
«His nose looks like.. a gentleman's sausage. The original cocknose.» At this Richard guffawed loudly, then pulled a disgusted face.
«Ron, don't make me laugh, love, please!» He took a sip of his tea, then looked at me over his mug. «As if a little thing like you could hurt me, anyway.»
«I was about to go find the cake Kristin sent you, but now you can forget it.»
«Aaaw, but Ron! I have a broken face!» He pouted childishly, and I caved in and found the box of cake. «Are you staying until tomorrow?»
«I haven't decided yet. It's still raining cats and dogs outside, I don't fancy driving home in this, to be honest, and I don't have work,» I shrugged.
«You're welcome to stay as long as you want, you know that right?» He dropped the act and turned serious for a moment.
«Yeah, I know,» I nodded, staring into my cup of tea. «Are you hungry? Dinner?»
«Yeah, a little. I want Chinese food, we could order in?» He suggested.
«Anything as long I won't have to go anywhere in this weather.» We ordered take-out and ate in the living room while watching TV. Richard grew increasingly quiet and pale, the pain was getting worse and in the end, he took a few painkillers and shuffled upstairs to have a lie-down. I stayed downstairs to watch a film I found on the telly, but about halfway into it the entire room suddenly went pitch black. A quick look around confirmed that the power was out in the entire house. I used my phone as a torch to light my way to the kitchen and looked out the windows, trying to see if any other houses in the area still had power, but everything seemed black. The rain was still thundering on the roof, and the winds had picked up in the last hour or so. Did Richard even have candles? The dogs all trailed after me as I searched through the house for candles, they were obviously not fans of the dark and the sounds of the weather outside. I sighed with relief when I found a bag of little tealights in a drawer. From a kitchen cupboard, I grabbed a few plates to put the candles on, found a lighter in my bag, and headed upstairs, guided by the poor light from my phone and still being followed by all the dogs. I tiptoed through the corridor and towards Richard's room, thinking he was probably asleep, but the moment I opened the door he spoke quietly.
«Did you find the candles?»
«Yes love. Seems the power is out in the whole area, must be the weather.» Lighting the tealights and placing them on plates, I placed one in the bathroom, left one on his chest of drawers, and another one on his nightstand. «Thought you might need some light, in case the power doesn't come back any time soon. I'll leave you alone,» I mumbled, pointing towards the door as I walked a few steps backward. He needed some rest and I didn't want to disturb him.
«And what are you going to do? Sit all alone in the living room in the dark?» He challenged, raising an eyebrow at me. I froze, not knowing what to answer; to be honest I hadn't had a clear idea of what I was going to do.
«I... thought I could curl up with the dogs in their room if I got scared,» I shrugged.
«And what if I get scared?! That's unfair, leaving me here all alone,» he pouted, and I laughed.
«All right, guys, seems like we're staying here,” I announced to the pack that had been milling around the bedroom, checking it out. Captain, always the clever one, jumped into a chair and curled up on top of a pile of Richard's clothes. I dug my iPad out of my bag and crawled into bed. «Internet is down, but there's always games as long as the power on this thing lasts,» I shrugged. Ever the curious one, Richard looked at the screen.
«What are you playing?»
«Chase the Stig! Look, I'm driving Oliver!»
«What?» He frowned, the fact that these games even existed seemed like a complete shock to him.
«You should know about this, it's a game from your franchise!»
«I've given up trying to keep track of all the things they make relating to Top Gear a long time ago. Ronja, that is a kiddies' game,» he pointed out, having studied it for a while.
«It's not as easy as it looks!» I argued. Richard's retort was cut short when his phone lit up; evidently, the mobile networks were still up and running. He pulled a face and put it down again with a sigh.
«Um, no thanks.»
«Is mummy calling again?»
«No, Jasmine.» At this, I hit pause on the game and put the iPad down.
«Jasmine? I didn't know you two were still in touch,» I asked with a hint of surprise, frowning at him.
«We're not, really. This is probably the second time I've heard from her since we broke up. She read the news, I guess,» he shrugged. «Can I try that game now?» I handed him the iPad, taught him the very simple controls, and watched gleefully as he crashed over and over.
«Come on, this isn't hard, it's a kiddies' game!» I reminded him. He swore when his phone rang again a little later and handed me the iPad to look at it.
«What is this, the conspiracy of the exes?» He shouted, staring at his phone that now said 'Mindy'. «Ugh, I have to take this or she'll just end up coming over here if i don't,» he grumbled.
«Want me to...?» I gestured towards the door, offering to give him some privacy, but he just shook his head as he lifted the phone to his ear. Not overhearing the entire conversation was impossible, no matter how much I tried to busy myself with the iPad.
«Hi, Mindy...»
«Hi. How are you?»
«Oh, apart from having a broken nose and a power-out, I'm fine, thanks.»
«Listen, they called me from the hospital yesterday and told me about your accident. Because I'm still listed as your next-of-kin, I guess.»
«Yeah, I know, I'm sorry about that, I didn't know-» Richard began, but she cut him off.
«I was there, you know, but they wouldn't let me see you. That... Ronja, or whatever her name is, said you didn't want to see me!» She sounded mortally offended. She also sounded like she hadn't believed me at all when I told her Richard hadn't wanted to see her, and like she expected this to come as a surprise to him.
«Yes, I do know that, Mindy,» he sighed, rubbing his temple. He already knew where this was headed. There was a moment of silence on the line.
«You know?» There was a definite threat in her voice. «She put you up to this, didn't she, that girlfriend of yours? Not seeing me?»
«Mindy, stop being so damn childish! She told me you were there, she asked if I wanted to see you. Several times. But I told her I didn't. And she isn't my girlfriend!»
«And why didn't you want to see me? We used to be married!»
«Because frankly, I didn't fancy this kind of bollocking out of you!» He barked back, getting thoroughly annoyed now. «I pulverized my nose, I had enough to deal with! Seeing my ex-wife wasn't at the top of my wish list!»
«Bollocking? I was just worried about you!»
«Well, don't be! It's not your job anymore,» he said bitterly. Then he sighed, and when he spoke again he had calmed down a little. «Listen, Mindy. I'm sorry they called you, I'm sorry you had to drive all that way for nothing, what else can I say? I'm fine, my nose will be just fine, okay?» Amazingly, this seemed to calm her down.
«That's good, at any rate. I'm glad you're all right. Are you still at the hospital?».
«No, I'm at home, actually.»
«They let you go home? I thought you had a concussion?»
«A small one, yeah. But I really wanted to go home, and they were okay with it as long as someone would stay with me overnight and keep an eye on me.»
«And who did?» She asked. Don't answer that, I thought to myself. At the very least, have the wherewithal to lie.
«Well... Ronja did. She's a nurse, and-» But Richard didn't get to finish his sentence.
«God, I am so sick and tired of hearing that fucking name!» She shrieked, so loudly that Richard's instinct was to pull away from the phone. He looked at the screen for a moment, narrowing his eyes, I could tell that he was debating whether or not to lose his temper. Which made me surprised at how calmly he answered her.
«Well, as long as you insist on sticking your nose into my life, you better get used to hearing her name, Mindy. Because she's my best mate and she isn't going anywhere.»
«Oh don't worry, I'm not interested in you and your life anymore. Just make sure they won't fucking call me the next you get into a stupid fucking accident,» she growled menacingly.
«They won't, I've put up mum as my next-of-kin now,» he sighed. I'm amazed at how calm he still was.
«Wow, I'm surprised it wasn't Ronja,» she snarled, then she hung up. With a deep sigh, he looked at his phone, then threw it away on the bed.
«I'm sorry...» I mumbled, not quite meeting his eyes.
«What the hell are you apologizing for? You haven't done anything wrong,» he said mildly. He rubbed his face tiredly, forgot about his nose, and swore loudly when he accidentally touched it. «Fucking hell! You know, she would've been just as angry if the hospital hadn't called yesterday. I don't get it, she doesn't want us to be married but she still wants to be the only one in my life. It's like she still expects me to need her and depend on her, and she goes livid when I don't.»
«She really doesn't like me, does she?» It was a stupid thing to say, but I couldn't think of anything else.
«Don't take it personally.»
«That's sort of impossible, really,» I admitted. «Does she still think we're sleeping together?»
«No. Yes. I don't know. She feels like you're the one taking her place, I suspect. She used to be my person, and now that she isn't... She thinks you are. Which you are, I guess. I don't understand much about her or women in general, but I think that upsets her. The fact that I'm managing fine without her, that I have someone I'm close to, and that I don't need her if I have to go to the hospital. It doesn't matter that we're not married anymore, or that you and I are just friends, it still upsets her.»
«She seems to be having a lot of trouble letting go of you.»
«And I thought I was the one with that problem,» he sighed, trying to sound ironic. «I don't know what it is about you, but they all seem to be so bloody threatened by you.»
«They?» I frowned, confused. "Plural?"
«Yeah. Mindy... And Jasmine,» he added hesitantly.
«I've barely met either of them, can't see what I've done that made them feel so threatened,» I shrugged, genuinely at a loss.
«Maybe it's just the fact that I'm a boy, and you're a girl, and they don't seem to think that is possible for a boy and a girl to be just mates.»
«That's stupid,» I snorted, but inside I still felt a sting. Because they were right, Mindy and Jasmine, apparently it wasn't possible for a boy and a girl to be just mates without one of them developing a stupid amount of romantic feelings for the other.
«I tried telling that to Jasmine, but she wouldn't listen. It didn't seem to bother her so much in the beginning, but after she met you she wouldn't let it go... If I mentioned you, especially if I'd talked to you or said I wanted to see you, she got upset. She did everything she could to prevent me from seeing you, taking up all my free time. I thought she was being ridiculous, but nothing I said made it okay. In the end, she genuinely told me to choose between her and... you,» he finished a little timidly. This was very different from the story Richard first had told me when they broke up, and I was so stunned I couldn't figure out what to say. «So I... chose you,» he added, a little unnecessarily.
«You basically broke up... over me?» I breathed, trying to get some clarity.
«Well, yes,» he shrugged. «I mean, I would much rather have you than some jealous woman who forces me to choose between her and my best friend. I don't want to be with someone that possessive and insecure.»
«I'm sorry...» I mumbled.
«About what?»
«I don't know...»
«Then shut up,» he smirked, rolling his eyes at me. I let my head rest against the stack of pillows and stared blankly up at the ceiling, letting my thoughts wander. It was hard to believe that he'd "chosen" me over his girlfriend, even if he had said he didn't quite know why he was dating her. I'm surprised he hadn't told me any of this before, too. Lying there I felt my thoughts spinning out of control. «What are you thinking about?» His voice brought me back to earth.
«Hm? Oh, nothing,» I shrugged.
«Rubbish. Most of the time I have no idea what goes on in that head of yours when you space out. Will you humor me just this once?» He begged.
«No, Richard, just... forget it,» I said, waving it away as if it was insignificant.
«Come on... Please? Something is obviously on your mind.»
«But it'll just make me sound so... pathetic.»
«Ron, believe me. Nothing you could ever say to me would make me think you are pathetic.» He said it in such a sincere manner I found myself believing him. And for some reason, I wanted to tell him. After a moment I drew a deep breath.
«Do you know what I worry about?» I asked simply, looking into his eyes quickly before looking back up at the candle-lit ceiling.
«No. But if my suspicions about you are right, probably a lot more than you are ever letting on,» he shot back quickly.
«I worry about what will happen the next time you get a girlfriend. One day you'll meet someone and fall madly in love, maybe get married again, have some kids, and you should do all of that. But I can't help but worry about what will happen to me when that happens. And that's stupid. I don't 'own' you, you know? Spending more time with your girlfriend than your mate is normal. Whenever I've lost touch with good friends or boyfriends or whatever in the past, for whatever reason, I've handled it okay. I maybe missed them a little, but life sort of... went on. But when you and I hardly saw each other for a while, I didn't handle that well at all. I felt lonely and so bored, and I missed you so much. I felt like I lost my best mate, maybe my family even, and I was a little shocked to find out how much I've become reliant on you. I haven't been dependent on anybody for as long as I can remember. I hate this feeling. It makes me feel sort of... weak.» I'd mostly stared at the ceiling while I'd talked, and only thrown a few quick glances over at Richard to gauge his reactions. Now that I'd stopped talking the silence was absolute apart from the rain outside. «From now on you're going to be glad you don't know most of what is going on in my head,» I mumbled.
«I still don't think you're pathetic. Not even close,» he began, and this made me look at him. «Relying on someone isn't the same as being weak, at least I don't think so. Being completely independent of everybody around you is almost impossible, and it's certainly not natural. Humans, we're not made to be alone. If it's any comfort, I'm dependent on you too; I was lonely and bored too when I didn't see you for a long time. And I know that you don't... have as many people in your life as I do, I have parents and siblings and things, but...» He paused, thinking. «Ron, I don't know what will happen in the future, or when, or how, I can't know... But I know that the only way you will get me out of your life is if I drop dead. And who said it'll be me that meets someone? It might as well be you? Maybe you'll stumble over some incredibly handsome doctor, run off to get married in Fiji and I'll be left here, moping, trudging around the Cotswolds in my wellies with only my dogs for company,» he finished dramatically. At this I gave an incredulous snort of laughter, shaking my head, unable to imagine something like that ever happening to me. «Listen, if I do ever meet someone, she'll just have to get used to the fact that my best mate is a girl and that she'll be spending a lot of time around our house. And if I ever do get married again, you'll be my best woman. And you'll be auntie Ron to the kids,» he added quickly. I couldn't help but laugh loudly, feeling relieved at how well Richard seemed to have taken my brutal honesty, and feeling a little touched by his response.
«All right. And I promise that if I ever get married you'll be my maid of honor. And Auntie Hamster to the kids.»
«Would I have to wear a dress?» He looked at me inquisitively from under slightly raised eyebrows.
«Yes. I'm thinking lilac. With poofy sleeves.»

Chapter Text

I left Richard the next day, having done all I could to help him so he could cope on his own with his busted nose. The BBC and Top Gear had issued a public statement to the media assuring everyone that Richard had not been in another major accident involving severe brain injuries, it was simply a faulty rear diff and a badly broken nose. If it hadn't been for work I probably would have stayed with him longer. I was dreading next week, which would be a nightmare week with seven shifts in seven days, and I wasn't looking forward to it. It was odd, because following my intense week of shifts I suddenly had an entire week off, and I couldn't remember the last time I had that. But for once I hadn't argued with the ward nurse who made these schedules. Maybe a week of doing nothing would do me some good. Maybe I could go somewhere, take Sprocket somewhere, the beach maybe... Or maybe do something with Richard, if he was free? He probably wasn't going to work much until his nose healed, at least not on camera. I only had vague plans, I would have to get through my hellish week and then I'd decide after that what I was in the mood for.

After I had finished my last shift that Sunday evening, I came home at around eleven and celebrated having survived by drinking half a bottle of wine and not getting into bed until half past two. What I was going to do with the seven shiny days of freedom lying before me I'd decide tomorrow. It felt like I had barely put my head on the pillow when an incessant knocking on my door abruptly woke me up. Glancing at the clock it was only 4.30 am. The knocking had awoken Sprocket too, who was now barking and bounding up and down the corridor excitedly, thinking it was morning. More incessant knocking caused me to wallow out of bed, and I grabbed a dressing gown and hurriedly threw it on as I walked to the front door. I opened my door just a little and peered through the crack. On my doorstep was Richard, looking wide awake and shamefully fresh considering it was 4.30 am. When he saw me he grinned widely.
“Good morning!”
“Morning? Richard, I just got into bed like two hours ago!” I complained with a hoarse voice, opening the door wider for him.
“That's your own fault, you chose to go to bed late!” He argued back. He seemed chirpy and excited.
“Yes, I did, because I didn't know you would come knocking at this ungodly hour! Why are you even here?” I groaned back, longing to crawl back into my warm, soft bed.
“I am here to tell you that you need to have a shower and then go pack a bag!” Having kicked off his shoes he trampled through my house into the kitchen and set about making coffee.
“I.. what? Pack? Why?”
“No questions, just do as I say! Pack for six days' worth, things like dresses, shorts... Whatever you women wear in warm, sunny weather. Oh and don't forget your passport. You do have one, right?”
“Passport?” Mind still soggy with sleep I stared stupidly at the man bustling around in my kitchen.
“Yes, passport! You know, little square book, has your picture in it?” He drew a square in the air with his fingers.
“Yes yes, but why do I--” I began.
“Ah ah ah. No more questions! That's a question! None of those! Go, woman! Shower! Pack! I'll make breakfast.”
“What if I won't go,” I said sternly, planting my hands in on my hips.
“You will,” he said, not the least bit worried.
“This is technically kidnapping, you know. I won't do it, I'm not going.” I crossed my arms defiantly.
“You will because you're too bloody curious not to go,” he pointed out with a smirk that was annoyingly confident. Too tired to think of an argument for something that was actually true, I turned around and headed for the bathroom. I got only halfway before I turned around and went back, having thought of something.
“But what about Sprocket? I can't just leave him?”
“We'll be out of here by 6, and Kristin will be here to pick him up at 9 or 10. He can stand being three or four hours alone at home, right? And he loves Kristin, he'll be happy to follow her when she picks him up.” He seemed to have thought of everything. I opened my mouth to argue, but couldn't think of anything immediately.
“... Oh,” I mumbled feebly. Defeated, I headed for the bathroom again, but only took a few steps out of the kitchen this time before returning. “How did you know I have an entire week off from today?” I squinted at him suspiciously.
“I... sneaked a peek in your almanac thingie, sorry,” he shrugged, looking apologetic. “You'll thank me later, I promise.”
“Oh... Okay.”
“Ronja, shower! Now!” He pointed sternly in the direction of my bathroom, and I followed orders. The warm water against my skin made me marginally more awake, but I still felt like a zombie. What was going on? What on earth was he up to, what had he planned? And why? I felt confused and tentatively excited. I racked my brain, trying to think of anything we might've talked about that could shed some light on this; places we've talked about wanting to go, things we've wanted to see, but nothing came to mind. Finished getting ready in the bathroom I quickly packed toiletries and clothes, trying to dig my summer clothes out from the back of the closet. It was only April, and the summer clothes hadn't been brought out of hibernation just yet. Would I need a bikini? A “nice” dress? Would I have to dress up at some point? Asking Richard would be no point, he had given me all the instructions he was going to. In the end, I packed mostly everyday clothes for summer but ended up shoving a bikini and a nice dress into the small suitcase, even a pair of heels. Entering the kitchen again I was met by toast, a mug of coffee, and no one else. The absence of Sprocket told me that Richard had taken him out for a walk. Sitting down on a barstool I took a few moody bites of my jam toast, still too tired to really feel like eating. The silence in the house was complete, and it was luring me back to sleep. Eventually, I sank down over the counter, rested my head on my arm, and closed my eyes, feeling like I had to rest my eyes. The quiet was short-lived, ten minutes later my door opened, then slammed shut and Richard was jabbering loudly to my dog as if he was another human.
“Hey hey hey, none of that, wake up!” He shouted as he spotted me, and poked me in the ribs on both sides to wake me up. I was horrendously ticklish so I sat bolt upright not to be poked again.
“But I'm sooooooo tired!” I whined.
“I made nurse-strength coffee. Here, that'll help.” He offered up the mug to me, and I accepted it moodily. “Bring a pillow, you can sleep a bit in the car.”
"Thanks..." I mumbled, feeling bad for complaining. I took a sip of my coffee and looked at him. "By the way, your nose looks so much better now, it's amazing what has happened in a few weeks. It's healed really well, looks good!"
"Thanks," he smiled. perking up a little. Half an hour later I found myself by the front door, suitcase in one hand, handbag in the other and pillow tucked under one arm. “Sure you've brought everything?” Richard was practically bouncing on the soles of his feet with giddiness.
“Yes,” I grumbled, rolling my eyes, not even bothering to check.
“Passport?”
“Yeeees.”
“Camera?”
“Mno, just my phone.”
“That's fine, I have mine. Ipad? Chargers?”
“Yes. Yes,” I answered dully.
“Clothes? Toothbrush? Panties?”
“Yes. Yes. And no, I always go commando, didn't you know that?” At this, he froze and looked up at me with eyebrows raised.
“Good. Erm, good to know, I mean. Saves on laundry, I guess.” He jabbered awkwardly, squirming a little.
“Richard, I was joking!” I couldn't help but laugh, and this upswing in my mood instantly brought back his own cheerfulness.
“Okay, go on then!” He shooed me out the door. I gave Sprocket a final scratch before locking the door and hiding the key under a stone in a flowerbed that had been empty of flowers since I moved in.
“It had to be the Porsche, huh? Didn't I say I was never going to set foot in that?” I stopped abruptly, staring at the offending car. Annoyingly, my brain immediately conjured imaginary flashes of Richard having cramped sex in it.
“Oh give up! I've been in your bed, you've had sex in that, what's the difference?” He argued hotly, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Space. A lack of leather. You can change the sheets on a bed. Don't tell me you've changed the sheets in that.” I pointed at it.
“Well... no, but... Oh come on, this argument is ridiculous. Get in, will you!” He barked. I was too tired to argue any longer, I just handed him my suitcase and got in the passenger's seat, buckled up, and stuffed the pillow behind my head. Richard threw my suitcase in the back next to his and got in, still grumbling.
“..Jesus, you would think I had every STD known to humankind...” He muttered under his breath. I smirked to myself at his good-humored mumblings. I had questions, millions of them, chief of which was 'where the hell are we going and what for?' But I knew there was no use in asking, I might be stubborn but I knew Richard was even worse. So instead of asking I decided to finally give in to my lingering tiredness, closed my eyes and, I was out like a light.
“Where are we?” I croaked as I was unwillingly allowing myself to be shaken awake. Opening my eyes I realized we were in a parking house.
“Heathrow,” he said simply.
“That doesn't help me at all,” I complained.
“I know,” he grinned wickedly, then got out of the car. I groaned, unbuckled my seatbelt, and clambered out of the low car. The shady air of the parking house felt icy cold on this April morning, and I shivered and groaned again. It was hard to feel even marginally excited when I had no idea what to expect in the coming days. “Come on, let's get through security and I'll get you more coffee,” Richard offered, wrapping an arm around my back and squeezing me once, holding me close. Suddenly I felt incredibly guilty, not to mention rather rude for acting the way I was. Here he was, doing something really nice for me. I think, anyway. Admittedly I wasn't quite sure just what, yet, but I assumed it was something nice, and I was being a grumpy git. I shook my head to try and wake myself up, grabbed my suitcase, and followed after him through the parking house, which seemed to be some sort of VIP parking connected straight to the terminal. Shuffling after Richard he led me in a different direction than what I was used to, away from normal check-in counters and security areas.
“Where are we even going?”
“Business check-in. Basically just 'check-in for rich tosspots',” he explained over his shoulder. “But it beats the queue for the security check and a million people wanting to say hi to me. I don't mind that, normally, it's just.. too early.” He held up a hand, shuddering at the idea of having to talk to strangers. For the first time, he let his own tiredness show.
“God, you must've been up since like.. 2 am.” He just hummed tiredly in response and kept on walking. I caressed his back in a way of saying thank you. When we reached this separate check-in area there were only a few, very tired but important-looking men milling around, trying to find their passports. Richard checked us in with a warning to the lady behind the desk not to tell me where we were going, assuring me he hadn't kidnapped me. I nodded dutifully. When he wasn't looking I swore the woman winked at me and gave me a look of 'oh god aren't you the luckiest woman in the world'. I just smiled politely, privately thinking that maybe I was. Our luggage disappeared and we shuffled through a completely queue-free security check, emerging into a huge, exclusive-looking hall on the other side.
“Business lounge!” he exclaimed. “Comfy sofas, free coffee, and almost no people. I love this place,” he sighed. “Coffee?”
“Quadruple espresso,” I smiled.
“Huge café latte with way too much sugar coming up,” he teased and handed me his bag. “Go, sit down.” He returned with coffee, a few newspapers, and a pocketful of chocolate. We grabbed a paper each and worked our way through our coffees in silence, both of us trying to wake up. After about fifteen minutes of this, I couldn't take it any longer.
“Okay, I know you said no questions, but... I assume we're here because we are taking a flight somewhere? Can you just tell me when that is?” I begged.
“Nope. Because you'll look at the departure board behind me and suss it out,” he mumbled, not even looking up from his newspaper.
“Dammit. You're too clever for me, Hamster,” I squinted at him, sounding like a bad Bond villain, and giggles were audible from behind the paper. Looking up at the departure board I scanned the destinations and wondered where the hell we were going. Vienna, Zurich, Frankfurt, Amsterdam, Brussels, Edinburgh, Paris, Copenhagen, Milan, Washington... Somewhere warm, he said. Istanbul? Lisbon? Was Lisbon hot? Had to be. But why he would take me to any of these places was beyond me. I tried to pace myself, tried to distract myself with the newspaper and my phone, but all I could do was watch the minutes tick by and wonder when we were going. And where? I was about to give up and ask if he'd just dragged me here as a prank when he finally stuffed his things into his bag and looked at me.
“We better get going, I think.” Like an over-excited toddler, I hastily stuffed all my things into my handbag and nearly fell out off the sofa in my eagerness to get out of it. As soon as I was on my feet I tugged at his sleeve.
“You have to tell me where we're going now. I'll know in a few minutes, it will say on the screen by the gate.” I stared at him with pleading eyes, holding my breath.
“All right, all right, I guess you're right,” he admitted, rolling his eyes. He paused, just to torture me, and I tugged harder at his sleeve and jumped up and down.
“Hammond, come on, I'm peeing my pants here!”
“I thought you weren't wearing any?” He quickly looked down, as if looking for said pants.
“Richard!!”
“Okay, calm down,” he said, annoyingly calm himself, waving me down. “If you must know, you and I are going to Italy. Milan, to be exact.” My jumping and tugging at his sleeves came to an abrupt halt, and I gaped at him. Italy? It had been apparent ever since he asked me to pack a bag and find my passport that we were traveling somewhere, of course, but it was as if the reality of it didn't hit me until now. Having a name, and knowing the place we were going, changed everything. Maybe I hadn't really believed he was taking me anywhere until now.
“I-i-Italy? You're taking me to... Italy?” I stammered.
“Yes! You know, a country shaped like a boot? Pasta and the pope and.. things...” His voice faded out as he looked at me, he was trying to discern what my expressions meant.
“Really?” I squeaked, my bottom lip wobbling ominously.
“Really,” he nodded, looking a little proud of himself. Smiling I wrapped my arms around him, mostly to try and hide the fact that I was almost crying, and I buried my face against his neck and clung to him in a huge bear hug. He ran his hands across my back, returning the hug.
“Thank you,” I whispered, as heartfelt as I could, and hugged him a little longer. It didn't even occur to me to ask why; why didn't even matter? I was going to Italy. We were going to Italy.
“Come on, we'll miss the flight,” he reminded me but didn't relinquish his grip on me. I gave him one last squeeze and was unable to resist giving him a lingering kiss on the cheek before letting go of him. My next surprise came as we boarded the plane and I was shown into first class for the first time in my life. Both I and Richard dumped our short bodies into huge luxury armchairs and were promptly offered the choice of champagne or any other beverage known to man. We both went for more coffee.
"First class, Richard? Really?" I raised an exasperated eyebrow at him. He shrugged non-committally.
"It's a bad habit I've picked up traveling with Top Gear and everything else. I spend so much time on planes that if I would have to endure economy class all the time I wouldn't be able to do this job, Ron. It might sound poncy, but this is my life, quite literally." He threw his hands out, gesturing to the cabin in general.
"No, no, I get it. I didn't mean it as criticism really, I was just.. surprised, I know how expensive it is... I've never set foot in first class. But I really understand you, if I was in a plane sixty times a year, being in economy would've driven me nuts."
"Never been on first class? It was about time then!" He smiled. I drank my coffee and rifled through another paper I'd been given. I was about to put the paper down and ask Richard why we were going to Milan, what the plans were, but looking over at him he was already fast asleep, neck in an awkward position. If he slept like that he'd be in pain for the rest of the day. Deciding that I was going to take advantage of the fact that I now was in first class, I hailed a stewardess and asked for a pillow and blanket, which she returned with promptly. I couldn't help but notice that she kept an eye on us, clearly recognizing Richard and wondering who I was.
"Richard, here..." I placed a hand on his chest and tried to rouse him gently. He mumbled and groaned, unwillingly being woken up. "It's just a pillow, Hammond, lift your head a little..." Eyes still more or less closed he lifted his head enough for me to slip the pillow under his head. "And here, you can adjust your seat back." The huge seat could be moved with electrical buttons, and I pressed one to make the back of Richards's chair recline backward.
"Oh god, I love you Ron," he mumbled in gratitude for his now much more comfortable position, still half asleep. I blushed, knowing the stewardess was still right by us. I finished off by throwing the heavy blanket over him. He slept soundly the rest of the flight, and I tried to as well, but I was too hopped on caffeine and too curious about what was going to happen in Italy that I couldn't. I dozed off a little, maybe, but mostly I wondered what was going on. Italy and Milan, I associated them with romantic locations, places people go for romantic getaways, but this wasn't that, was it? Or maybe he had plans? Maybe he was taking me there to finally admit to some feelings? Or at least to talk about "us", whatever we were, figure out what we were actually doing. But I wasn't going to expect anything like that, it would only make me disappointed. My best guess was that he just wanted to do something nice for me, just mates going away to have fun together. I had said I'd never been to Italy and wanted to see it, and he decided to take me, and we could have some fun. That was probably the only agenda Richard had, anything else would be too complicated.

Chapter Text

Twenty minutes before we landed I gently roused Richard and gave him more coffee, trying to coax him back to the land of the living. Getting out of the plane I was met by a completely different temperature than back home, the feel of the air was different. This was exciting, I was in a completely new place, a new country. Standing by the baggage reclaim waiting for our bags I couldn't help but ask.
"Richard? Does this whole 'not asking questions' thing still apply? I mean, I would like to know what your plans are..." I asked hesitantly.
"Well, I thought we could just rent a car and drive around the country, really? Best place to see a country is just to drive through it? Italy has some of the best roads! I've planned a vague route I thought we could take, and booked some hotels along the way, ones I've stayed at before or heard good things about."
"Oh, okay! That sounds great! Italian road trip!" I smiled, very happy with the answered I was given. We got our bags, queued our way through the passport check and customs, and then we were through to the arrival hall. I immediately started looking for a sign for a car rental. "Well, there's Hertz and Europcar over there..." I pointed in the direction of the signs.
"I've already sorted a rental car," he answered vaguely, seeming distracted. "Don't worry about it." He was looking around, searching for something, or someone, and then he headed straight for a man who seemed to be waiting. He had obviously met Richard before because he greeted him politely and welcomed him back to Italy. The gentleman continued telling Richard that all the papers were signed and in order, and 'here are the car keys sir', handing him a set of keys. He was clearly Italian but spoke very good English.
"The car is in a private parking lot, it can be a bit tricky to find, want me to drive you there? I can just drop you off, it's along the way I'm going." Richard accepted this offer gratefully, and I just smiled and nodded, feeling completely lost. What sort of rental car was this? Who was that guy, was he with a rental car company? Was this another part of the special treatment people like Hammond got? We trailed after the well-dressed man, put our suitcases in the back of his very nice Mercedes and he drove us to a fenced-in, big carpark a bit away from the airport itself. It had heavy security and seeing all the cars lined up here, I had no problem seeing the need for it; Porsches, Lambos, Ferraris, Maseratis, expensive Audis and Mercs, you name it. He waved us farewell and drove off.
"So this is where all the rich and famous parks, huh?" I breathed, staring at the amazing lineup of cars.
"Yup. Which one is ours, do you think?" He asked, a mysterious smirk on his face. He was loving every second of this, and it showed.
"I don't know! I don't see any Polos or Fiats around..." I shrugged. Richard dug the keys out of his pocket and handed them to me. The key itself didn't say any brand, but it had a lock and unlock button.
"Here. Unlock it, see which one lights up." I had to do it a few times before I spotted which car had blinking indicators. I hadn't even noticed it, it blended in with all the other very expensive luxury cars on the lot. I locked it and unlocked it once more, making sure it was the one. The colour was a deep burgundy purple. 'It can't be...' I thought to myself as I walked closer to the back of the car. It WAS an Aston Martin, a DB9 to be exact. In a dark aubergine purple, my favourite colour. Once again, just having to make absolutely sure, I locked and unlocked the car, seeing the indicators flashing on it once again. After a long moment of silence I finally managed to open my mouth, but then I realised I didn't even know what to say and just closed it again.
"This is the real surprise, you see," Richard explained, looking almost nervous and shy now. "The last time you only got to drive it for a little while on a track. And that isn't enough, is it? So I thought I'd take you here, some of the best roads I've ever been on are here. And you could drive that car some more, and see Italy at the same time.»
"Me...?" I squeaked, tears already bursting from my eyes.
"Yes, you. I drive these sorts of cars all the time, I'm lucky that way. Now it's your turn." At this point I couldn't hold back any longer, I threw myself at Richard and wrapped my arms around him, crying in earnest now. "God, I really need to work on my surprises. Every time I try to surprise you, you just end up crying a lot." He held me patiently, patted my back, kissed my forehead once then pulled back. "Now stop crying and get in, will you? I'll get the luggage." I had a million things I wanted to say, it was overwhelming and made me confused. So I just nodded, went to the driver's side and got in. The interior was a gorgeous mix of grey and chrome, with purple stitching to match the outside, and I was violently in love. I ran my hand reverentially over the steering wheel and the dashboard. Having put our luggage in the back, Richard got in and closed the door. The look he gave me was full of excited anticipation. «So, what do you think?»
«I'm... I... She's beautiful,» I stammered, lost for words.
«I thought you'd like the purple colour. I think the people at Aston Martin must be colourblind though because they've named it 'amethyst red'.» He rolled his eyes.
«It's gorgeous,» I breathed. The shock of everything had made me speechless.
«Want to know the plan? I do have one!» He announced proudly, and all I was able to do was just nod. «I've had them plot the route and all the hotel addresses into the sat-nav,» he began explaining as he started fiddling his way through the menus on the screen in the mid console, trying to find the sat nav. «Today we're going to drive down to San Marino via Bologna, that should take about three and a half hours but we can stop as much as you want. Actually, we'll stay at a hotel by the coast, a little outside San Marino. Tomorrow we'll drive mostly along the coast down to Bari, which is here...» He tracked the route on the map. «There's this place a little south of Bari called Pol... Polignano a Mare, or something like that, it has a really cool restaurant I want you to see. Anyway, on Monday we'll drive straight across the country to Naples, taking the long way it'll take about four hours. After Naples we'll drive to Rome on Tuesday and stay there until we're going home on Thursday, thought you might want a day to have a look around. Sound good?» He asked after a minute of stunned silence.
«I'm sure that's... absolutely perfect,» I mumbled. Richard gauged me intently, trying to work out why I am acting so strange. «I'm sorry, I'm just... absolutely gobsmacked, I don't know what to say or do right now.» My hands were actually shaking.
«Gobsmacked is better than crying,» he smiled. Unable to think of anything to say I reached over and hugged him again, mostly just to hide the fact that I was on the verge of tears again. With a deep breath, I relinquished my hold on him and straightened up, getting myself together.
«Okay, enough of this teary touchy-feely nonsense, can I drive now?!» At this, he laughed loudly.
«Of course, go go!» I spent the first half-hour driving the car feeling equally terrified and excited. The sat nav was on and guiding me, but I was still driving in a completely unfamiliar country, and I kept bombarding Richard with questions about signs, road markings and the traffic around me. Just the fact that I had almost never driven in right-hand traffic made everything even more confusing and nerve-wracking. I had barely had time to learn to drive in Norway before I moved to England, which had left-hand traffic. Eventually, I managed to calm down and settle into it, getting used to the roads and driving on the 'wrong' side. Richard seemed to have complete faith in me, he hardly watched the road but kept searching for something to listen to on the radio. His constant station-surfing along with the incomprehensible jabbering in Italian quickly got on my nerves.
«Richard, this car is bound to have Bluetooth. Connect my phone to the stereo or something? Italian radio doesn't seem to do it for you.»
“I remember letting you in charge of music once before, I'm not sure I want to go through that again,” Richard teased. Even so, he accepted the phone and connected it to the car stereo, then handed it back over to me. We stopped often, to stock up on drinks and snacks, or just to enjoy the view and have a cigarette and stretch our legs, even if we weren't scheduled to drive more than four hours today. The sudden Italian heat was a bit of a shock to my system, but a very pleasant one. But all of this was a shock, 12 hours ago I was in my bed in England. I still couldn't believe I'm here, in Italy, driving this car. We made another stop in Bologna, getting lost on the way both in and out of the city trying to find somewhere to eat. After that, we headed south and I squealed with joy when I finally spotted the coastline. Before I knew it the car started guiding me off the main road and into a town called Rimini, directing me to our first hotel.
«Don't tell me you booked this just because it's called 'Hotel Touring',» I groaned, looking up at the sign of the hotel. Richard giggled.
«Actually, no! We stayed here once, can't remember when, but I remember it was a nice hotel. And it has secure parking, which is kind of important when you drive about in this thing,» he pointed out. Personally, I thought that calling it just a 'nice hotel' was a bit of an understatement. It was an exclusive, four-star seaside hotel on the Italian riviera, with indoor and outdoor pools and a massive restaurant.
«Richard, this place has its own spa..!» I hissed excitedly.
«I know! I think some spa-thing was included with the room, actually. I'd say go for it,» he winked and gave me a keycard. «That's you, this is me, I'll be next door. I booked us in for dinner at 9. It's only 5.30, which means I can have a dip in the pool!» He smiled excitedly.
«I like your thinking, Hamster,» I grinned. I traipsed after him through the hotel lobby and into an elevator that takes us to the top floor. Having found our respective doors I shoved the keycard in the slot. «Race you to the pool!» I shouted, tearing my door open.
«You're on!» He shouted back and disappeared into his own room. Looking over my room I suspected that Richard hadn't just settled for 'normal' rooms; the furniture and decor in these looked far too exclusive. I wrenched my suitcase open, tore off my clothes and dove into my bikini, hastily pulling a jersey dress over it and grabbed a towel and flip-flops. All the while I had tried to listen for doors slamming in the hallway, indicating that Richard might have left, but I hadn't heard any. Believing I might win I grabbed my handbag and raced downstairs. Reaching the pool area, completely out of breath, I noticed that Richard was already there, swimming around placidly with an annoying, smug look on his face.
«I swear you wore swimming trunks under your jeans and dove right in from your balcony,» I grumbled as I discarded my stuff on a sunbed. I sat down on the edge of the pool, dipping my legs in. The water temperature was perfect, low enough to cool me down without being too cold. Once again I closed my eyes and faced the sun, enjoying the light and the warmth. I drew a deep, relaxing breath, but I was suddenly grabbed hold of and yanked off the edge of the pool and into the water. I squealed and flailed, the water felt ice cold against my sun-warm skin. While I had zoned out for a moment, enjoying my surroundings, Richard had managed to swim right up to me without me hearing or seeing him, and pulled me in. Now his childish laughter was ringing in my ears. «Richard, you blithering idiot!» I spluttered, trying to get the wet hair out of my eyes. «You should be so glad there are people around to be witnesses, or I'd drown you!» I threatened, childishly splashing some water in his face.
«You were taking forever to get in, I was just trying to help!» He explained, his arms outstretched in a gesture of innocence. I glowered angrily at him. «How about if I go get you a cold pint? Would that help?» He offered.
«... Maybe,» I conceded hesitantly.
«Great! Could you get me one too while you're at it?» As soon as he has said this he lunged away from me, swimming as fast as he could to the nearest exit out of the pool while shouting; «joking!» Giving up on chasing him I laid back and let myself float for a minute, enjoying the feeling of being almost weightless. I'd been in a state of surprise, shock and confusion all day, and I hadn't landed yet. Finding myself in a pool on the Italian riviera felt absolutely surreal, and for the millionth time today, I half wondered if I was going to wake up from my dream any time soon. The sound of Richard's voice shouting my name caught my attention; he was standing by the side of the pool, wrapped in a towel, a pint in each hand. As I emerged from the pool he held a glass out to me.
«Peace offering,» he smiled.
«Ah, you know my weakness. You're forgiven,» I smirked, accepting the glass. I sat down on a sunbed, and Richard sat down on the one next to mine. His hair was wet and handsomely dishevelled, his skin was glistening with droplets of water, he was only wearing a pair of swimming trunks and he was smiling his gorgeous smile at me. A millisecond too late I realised that I was staring, and to stop myself from gawking at him further I lounged back on the sunbed and closed my eyes, pretending to enjoy the sun and my beer. He did the same, sighing happily.
“I have died and gone to heaven,” he groaned, and I just chuckled quietly. As I was lying there, on a comfy sun-bed in a very expensive hotel, having driven here in a very expensive car, a wave of guilt washed over me. I'd had the same feeling several times today, but I'd managed to push it away, let myself be distracted by the car I'd been driving or my gorgeous surroundings. But this time I couldn't seem to shake it.
«Ron? What's up? You're being too quiet.” Richard knew me well enough to notice the change in me. I opened my eyes to look at him, and the expression on my face confirmed his suspicions.
«Richard... I am trying to just be happy and excited about all of this, but I can't help but feel a little... Guilty. I can't stop wondering how much all of this costs! I mean... Just the flight, and first-class, and renting that car, and this hotel, and... How am I ever going to pay you back?"
"Ron, Ron, stop it, right now,» he said, calmly but sternly, holding up a hand. He swung his legs off the sunbed and sat up on the edge of it, closer to me. «Don't worry about that, okay? Just...You don't have to repay me for this, you don't owe me anything, and you really shouldn't feel guilty. I wanted to do something nice for you, and luckily I'm in a situation where I can do something like this. This might be a disgusting thing to admit, but whatever all of this costs – I won't know the difference. Money is one of the few things I have more than enough of. And I get to have lots of fun with my best mate; it's a win-win! So just... Just try not to worry about it, please? You've deserved this, you really have, and I was hoping that you could just accept this as a nice surprise and maybe try to enjoy it as much as you can."
"But... Why? I mean, why go to all this trouble? What did I do to deserve any of this?"
"Because you have done so much for me, probably a lot more than you can ever imagine. The way you've helped me through my divorce and everything... You're always there for me when I need you. And like I said, I bring nothing but misery into your life. For once I wanted to bring you a lot of happiness and fun, and not be a... burden." He finished his sentence in a low, awkward mumble, fiddling with his fingers like he often did when he was nervous. Reaching out to him I placed a hand on his knee.
“Richard, that's not true. You bring so many good things into my life, I've laughed more with you than I have for the rest of my life put together. I've never had a better mate than you, and I know you're there for me too. You've never been a burden to me, and you never will be!” I reassured him. He threw me a shy look, then went back to staring at his hands. “I... I don't mean to sound ungrateful, because I'm not, this is all just.. overwhelming, I guess. No one has ever done anything like this for me before, and I honestly don't know how to handle it, or what to say. I won't ever be able to thank you enough.”
“Just... keep being my best mate?” He shrugged and placed his hand over mine, squeezing it gently.
“I can do that.” I gave him an encouraging smile. "I would have done that anyway, though. You didn't have to take me all the way to Italy." I squeezed his hand in return, then retracted it a little awkwardly, feeling like I'd held his hand for far too long already. Richard chuckled quietly, nodding.
"All right. But now that we're here, we might as well enjoy it? I mean, you're always talking about travelling places, but you never do! When was the last time you went away somewhere, went on holiday?” He challenged.
“It wasn't that long ago!” I said defensively. “I went to India for a month after I graduated from university.”
“And when was that, exactly..?” He raised an eyebrow.
“2006!” I shot back, then immediately started counting, realising it might be longer ago than I thought.
“.. Which was eight years ago!” He shouted, and I was startled to realise that he was right. Eight years? Where the hell had those eight years gone? "Having gone eight years without having a proper holiday makes you more than deserving of a little trip to Italy. Now shut up and drink your beer."

Chapter Text

Richard was already waiting for me in the restaurant the next morning, ready for breakfast.
“Where have you been? I knocked on your door, you weren't there!” He looked at me curiously.
“I was just.. out for a little walk,” I shrugged evasively.
“You've been down to the car, haven't you.” He studied me intently, a knowing smirk on his lips.
“I had to, I had to check on her, see if she was all right,” I admitted, causing Richard to laugh loudly.
“So it's safe to say you like the car, then?”
“Do you think there is anywhere in the world where marrying a car is legal?”
“Probably some states in America,” Richard giggled, looking happy that I was happy. The previous evening we'd just had dinner and gone to bed. I had conked out before my head hit the pillow, and I guessed Richard had done the same, both of us were exhausted from traveling and the lack of sleep. Richard's phone went off when we're nearly finished with breakfast. I was immersed in my iPad, reading my email and checking Twitter, but couldn't help listening with half an ear as he talked on the phone.
“Hello? Jezza, hi!” There was a pause. “Have I seen the sun? Yes, I'm looking at it right now, it's right outside the window!” He said in his typically innocent, cheerful way. There was another pause in which all I could hear was what sounded like a rather angry voice on the other end. «Oh, right, the newspaper, no, I haven't seen that, I'm out of the country, actually,» Richard admitted. There was a little pause. «You know? How did you know that?» Pause. «Is Ron here? Yes, she is – wait a minute, are you around here somewhere?!» Richard looked around theatrically, as if expecting Jezza to turn up in the restaurant. There was another little pause in which he just listened. Then he gestured wildly to me. «Ron. Ron, iPad. Now!» he hissed under his breath, and I quickly handed him the gadget, wondering what's wrong. «Hang on, I'm checking!» He barked impatiently into the phone. After a few moments of tapping at the screen and waiting, his face changed dramatically. His eyes widened, his mouth fell open and he went a little pale. «...Oh.» He kept staring at the screen, unblinkingly, transfixed by whatever he had seen on it. Unable to curb my curiosity I snatched the iPad back, and as I saw the screen my mouth fell open too. The browser was showing an article in the online version of the Sun. Plastered all across the top was a picture of Richard. And me. Locked in a very tight embrace in what I recognized as the business lounge at Heathrow Airport. The sight knocked the wind right out of me, it hadn't even occurred to me that someone could be taking pictures. Scrolling down there was another image of us, our arms still wrapped around each other, but I was kissing his cheek now. Rather lovingly too, it seemed, my eyes were closed. I quickly scanned the brief text of the article; it was all speculations and rumors and plain gossip. Still staring at the image, I managed to keep listening to Richard's conversation with Jezza on the phone. Jezza seemed to have asked a question, and Richard shrugged awkwardly. By the answer he gave it sounded like Jeremy wanted to know why we'd been hugging in such a public place. «I had just told her we were going to Italy... It was a surprise, see? I didn't tell her until then, at the airport. She got happy, so she hugged me.» He explained half defensively. Pause. «Why I'm taking her to Italy? Well, I... just wanted to do something nice for her, Jeremy. And she's my best mate, mates go places together, have fun.» He was being completely honest and serious now, with no jokes or games. «Yes, I know how this looks, Jeremy, I realize that...» He muttered into the phone, rubbing his temple exasperatedly. "All right, mate. Thanks for the heads up. Bye." Richard hung up and sighed heavily as he rubbed both temples with his fingertips as if he suddenly had a massive headache.
"Did you read the article?" I asked.
"No, I just saw the photos." He shook his head.
"Apparently we are 'unable to keep our hands off each other' and seem 'head over heels in love'," I announced dryly. Inwardly I gave a sad sigh, wishing that was indeed the truth and not just fiction. Richard raises a quizzical, but cheeky eyebrow, then he was unable to stop himself from grinning.
«Then why are you not all over me right now?» He challenged, and my entire body flushes hot. My first thought was to ask 'Do you want me to be?', but I chickened out as always.
«I don't know. According to this, we should be shagging at this very table right now,» I shot back, trying to seem just as eager to make a joke of it.
«That might put people off their breakfast,» he pointed out.
«.. While we'd be, in fact, on, our breakfast,» I retorted with a sleazy look on my face, pointing down towards the table that has empty dishes, glasses, and cups of coffee on it. Richard screwed his eyes up and chuckled loudly.
"I'm glad we can laugh about this, though,” he said when his laughter had subsided. His face went from merry to apologetic. “Ronja, I'm sorry, I didn't know there would be photographers there, I had no idea. And even so, it hadn't crossed my mind that they would.... spin something like that one hug into a story like this and it causing massive headlines.”
“Oh come on, Richard, you're not that naïve? Don't you remember we had this conversation ages ago, in your kitchen? Around the time you and I became friends and started hanging out together? We talked about this, about how this could, and in all probability would happen. I'm a woman, and you're a man, a famous and recently divorced one. Us being spotted at Heathrow going away together, of course they were going to spin it like this!”
“I know, you're right. I just didn't... think about how this would look,” he sulked.
“You and I are close friends, maybe closer than most. They got some lucky photos that make us look like we're more than that. And people are going to believe it because people seem unable to think that a man and a woman can be 'just' best friends.” I drew quotation marks in the air around the word 'just'.
“Give it here, let me see that,” he sighed, gesturing for the iPad, and I handed it over to him. Reading it, he shook his head. “I'm surprised they didn't follow us onto the bloody plane,” he grumbled.
“I'm guessing that someone who was on that flight yesterday or saw us boarding it, will read that today and know we're in Italy. I won't be surprised if this is going to be all over Italian tabloids next,” I pointed out coldly, taking a sip of my coffee. At this he looked up from the screen, his eyes wide in horror.
“I didn't even think of that. But you're probably right,” he conceded.
“Oh well, at least we're prepared for it,” I shrugged. The article itself had surprised me, but I didn't see the point in being upset or angry about it. We had predicted that it might happen someday, and now it had. Actually, I was a little surprised that it hadn't happened sooner. Considering all the time we spent together I found it astonishing that no one had noticed and tipped off the tabloids.
“You're handling this very well,” he sighed, handing the iPad back to me.
“Well, I mean.. what can we do about it, really?” I shrugged. «But, in light of this, maybe all of those tweets yesterday probably won't help our case...” While driving the previous day, Richard and I had launched into an amicable public argument on Twitter. It all started because he obviously wasn't very happy with the music I was playing on my phone. 'Help. Stuck in a DB9 for 5 days with @Ronja who plays things like 'Crushing Cantelopes'. We had never had a habit of tweeting much at each other, and I had been a little surprised at Richard for doing so because it was a very public display of our friendship. But he had started it, and I was unable to stop myself from replying in the same cheeky manner. 'Watch it @RichardHammond, or I'll be playing things like Genesis. And it's 'Smashing Pumpkins', you unmusical pillock.' This public, but friendly bickering went on all day, to our mutual amusement. But sitting here now, looking at the article in the Sun, I realized that our tweets just made us look like teenage turtle-doves play-fighting with each other. The worst bit was probably that we had ended the argument by posting a sunny 'selfie' of the both of us by the pool labeled 'temporary ceasefire'. “I mean, in reality, it isn't any different to when you tweet with Jezza or some other mate, but to everyone else, who now thinks we're dating, it is going to look like.. something else.”
“I guess that's what we get for being on things like Twitter in the first place...” he muttered, looking exasperated more than anything.
“I guess there's no use telling your ex-wife we're just friends anymore either, huh?” I couldn't help but smirk at the irony of it all. Richard groaned loudly, hiding his face in his hands.
“Oh god, she's going to be livid,” he said, his voice muffled by his hands.
“Oh she's always livid, it seems,” I snorted. “Glad you're on the other side of the continent now?”
“Very,” he nodded. Sighing heavily he straightened up in his seat. The look he gave me is one full of guilt. I hated seeing him like this, genuinely upset. Once again he was fiddling with his own fingers. “I'm sorry, Ronja... Seems like I've managed to cause you trouble again, even though I brought you here just to have fun.”
“Okay, this is how it is,” I said determinedly, wanting to reassure Richard in some way. I know he was upset mostly on my behalf, he himself had grown accustomed to being in the tabloids, but he hated the fact that I'd been dragged into it as well. And after what he has done for me, taking me on this amazing trip because he wanted to do something nice for me, I couldn't stand him being upset. “First of all, this isn't your fault. I knew the 'risk', that I could end up in the papers with you someday, and I'm not bothered by it. But we have to be prepared for the fact that when we get back to England, everyone is going to think you and I are dating and that we've been on some hot and heavy love holiday together.” As I said this Richard frowned, obviously thinking I was only making it worse. “But until then, we're here, in Italy, meaning we won't have to deal with all of that just yet. Down here we most likely won't have paparazzi chasing us, so we should just take this opportunity to do what we want and have fun. Like you said, as long as we're here, we might as well just try to enjoy it?”
“Yeah, you're right, Ron..” he nodded slowly, looking marginally more cheerful. “I'm just glad you're not bothered by it, because honestly, personally, I don't give a toss what people might think. The only way I would have cared was if you or I were married or in a relationship with someone else because that way a rumor like this could hurt someone. Mindy is going to be cross, but that is her problem. Our friends know that you and I are just mates, and they'll know that this is just the sort of thing a paper like The Sun would write, I guess.”
“But that won't stop them from heckling us for weeks to come!” We both rolled our eyes at the prospect of all the grief we were going to get from the people around us. But for now, we agreed to just forget about the article and enjoy where we were.

The next couple of days flew by a lot faster than I wanted them to. We drove along the coast under the blazing Italian sun, making numerous stops along the way, to eat or have a cup of coffee, or just stop someplace where we could enjoy the view and the sunshine for a bit. Luckily it seemed like the Italian paparazzi weren't out hunting for us, and neither of us could be bothered to check the local tabloids; we were having far too much fun to care about what they might be writing, if anything at all. It turned out that Mindy had indeed read the Sun, and was predictably incredibly cross at her ex-husband for being such a lying sod. He hummned and aha'd on the phone, not even trying to argue with her, he knew there was no use.
The hotels Richard has booked along the way were just as great at the first, causing me to complain at him for having spent way too much money on this trip. South of Bari, in a town called Puglia, we stayed at a hotel that sat right on top of the sheer, seaside cliffs. Its rooms were carved out of the rock in the mountain, with beautiful vaulted brick ceilings, each with its own balcony suspended hundreds of feet above the ocean. Even the hotel restaurant was inside a huge, vaulted limestone cavern, and from our table, I could look over the railings and straight out over the Adriatic sea. It was the most spectacular place I had ever had dinner at, or slept in for that matter. After Puglia we left early and continued our drive along the coast down to Brindisi. So far we had been heading south along the coast, but now we took a turn and headed west, straight across the country to Taranto then north upwards to Napoli. On our fourth day, we drove the last leg up to Rome, and I took every detour I could think of, procrastinating as much as I could. I was even more in love with this car now that I had gotten to drive around in it for four days, it had been an absolute adventure and was sad that it was coming to a close. Of course Richard sensed this, and about an hour away from Rome he cleared his throat.
“Do you have a dress?”
“What?” The fact that he suddenly broke a rather long silence surprised me as much as the question. “What do you mean, 'do you have a dress?' Are you asking in a general sort of 'do you own a dress at all?' way or more in the sense of 'is there a dress in your suitcase?'”
“Um... The latter, actually. But if the answer to the first is a 'no' then the answer to the latter question would be a given, really. Making the question itself rather unnecessary,” he mused.
“I own several dresses, as a matter of fact,” I sniffed. Then I cast him a quick, sidelong suspicious glance before focusing on the road again. “Why?”
“I know that both you and I are going to be bummed about going home tomorrow. So I put it to you that we, when we get to Rome, instead of moping about at the hotel, we dress up, go to a poncy restaurant, and get unsuitably drunk. But poncy restaurants have dress codes.”
“You? Bummed? I thought you couldn't wait to get out of this car, you must be so bored of being a passenger.” It had struck me more than once during all our hours of driving that sitting in the passenger seat like that, for days, must be a tedious thing for someone who was used to driving himself everywhere. But if he thought so, he had never let it show.
“Rubbish. I'd take being in an Aston Martin in sunny Italy over... almost anything,” he scoffed. “So, did you pack one?” He pressed on.
“Yes, I did, actually.”
“Great! Poncy restaurant and going on the piss it is, then!”
“Yeah, sure,” I nodded in agreement, chuckling a little at his child-like eagerness. It wasn't like we'd sat around at the hotel every night this far either, the drives between hotel stops had been short enough for us to do a few other things besides just driving. We'd been out to try and catch some sights if we had the time or the leftover energy. And in those cases where we'd just eaten dinner and turned in, we'd gotten up early the next day to try and at least see something.

My eyes swept across the hotel lobby as the lift doors opened, searching for Richard. He was leaning nonchalantly against a pillar, immersed in his phone, wearing that crisp grey suit that had taken my breath away once before. I drew a deep, nervous breath and exited the lift, wondering if I was going to slip on this polished marble floor, inexperienced as I was with wearing heels. Despite me walking straight toward him, he didn't hear the clacking of my heels or see me as I stopped a few steps away from him, he was too preoccupied with his phone. My first impulse was to flick his ear or something, but realized that would be rather unladylike and not very classy at all. We were, for once, trying to pass ourselves off as actual adults. Instead, I discreetly cleared my throat. This caused him to quickly glance up at me, but it was as if he didn't even recognize me, because he immediately looked down at his phone. Then he did a little double-take before hastily straightening up and stuffing his phone unceremoniously into his pocket, clearly distracted. His eyes barely had time to meet mine, they were far too busy trailing down my body, all the way down to my heel-clad shoes and up again.
“Um, I.. Wow. Ron? I mean, hello,” he jabbered. He seemed speechless, awkward, impressed, and amazed, all at the same time. It was a strange thing, seeing him fumble like this, and secretly I was enjoying the hell out of it.
“See? I do own a dress,” I sniffed airily as if I had proven a point and thereby won an argument.
“I... er, I can see that! And heels, even!” He pointed stupidly as if I wasn't aware of the shoes I was wearing.
“Yes, it is hard to walk around in these without being aware of it,” I mumbled with sarcasm. Richard seemed unable to do anything but stare at me, let alone say anything. “So... Are we going?” I prompted, his staring was making me awkward and restless.
“What? Oh, yes, of course.” He gestured to the exit with a wide sweep of his arm, and we headed for the revolving doors. Richard had asked the concierge at the hotel about restaurant tips when he had booked us in. The man behind the huge reception desk obviously recognized Richard and had been more than eager to help us. The best restaurants in Rome were of course notoriously booked up, especially on a Friday night like this, but the concierge must've had some pull because within five minutes we had reservations for two hours later. I had spent those two hours in a frantic state of panic, trying to sort out my hair and put on a little more makeup than just the usual two-second mascara application. Thinking about it, I really couldn't blame Richard for hardly recognizing me, as it dawned on me that he had probably never seen me like this – properly dressed up. Jeans and hiking shoes had been the norm, or pajama pants. And secretly I liked him staring at me, I was hoping he wasn't just staring because he's surprised, but also because he liked what he saw.

Leaving the restaurant we decided to walk back to the hotel. The taxi ride there had been an embarrassingly short one, Richard swore that he knew the way back to the hotel and we were, after all, in Rome, we should take the opportunity to see a little. The restaurant itself had been fabulous, and just as poncy as we had wanted it to be. Neither of us had understood half of what was on the menu and the food was served in such artistic ways we hardly knew how to begin eating it. Walking back we agree that neither of us wanted to go to bed, so we decided to order some more alcohol from room service and enjoy the view of Rome from the spacious balcony in Richard's room.
“Ron? What do you want? Wine? Red? White?” He placed a hand over the phone as he shouted at me.
“Cava!” I shouted back.
“..What??”
“Cava! It's Spanish champagne, you ignoramus. Preferably semi-dry.”
“Here, you talk to him. Because I don't know what you're saying and you're starting to sound like James May.” He held out the phone to me, and I told the man from room service what I wanted. Richard ordered wine along with some bottles of sparkling water as well then hung up. “I didn't peg you as a wine-ponce,” he muttered, almost looking personally offended.
“I'm not! I just know the difference between wine, champagne, and cava. And I haven't had cava in years and I thought it was about damn bloody time. It's good stuff, you'll like it,” I promised him. With a sigh of contentment, I sat down on the comfortable outdoor sofa. Our rooms were on the top floor and had spacious balconies with textile roofing and actual sofas, from which we had a great view of the city of Rome. Before long the bottles we ordered were on the table. Richard gave the Cava a try, announced that it 'wasn't awful', but stuck to his red wine. I took a sip from my glass, took in my surroundings and drew a deep breath, leaning my head back a little and closing my eyes. When I opened them again, Richard was looking at me a little quizzically. “This is perfect,” I smiled. “This balcony, the view, the temperature, my cava... And just being here, with my best mate.”
“It isn't bad,” he shrugged as if he didn't think it was anything special, but I knew he was just joking. “So you've had a good time? It hasn't been boring, just driving around all the time?”
“God no, of course I haven't been bored! This has been an amazing experience, and not just because of that perfect car. But all the great hotels, the good food... everything.”
“Good,” he smiled.
“I still feel like I haven't really deserved all of this...” I admitted hesitantly.
“Oh do shut up,” he waved tiredly, and I obliged. I really had tried to do what he asked, which was to just enjoy this trip to the fullest and not feel guilty about whatever this all might cost. And I had mostly succeeded, but twinges of doubt and guilt poked at me now and again. He sighed and looked out over the city, looking thoughtful. “You know, my reasons for bringing you here weren't entirely selfless. I really needed this, to get away for a bit,” he said, mostly to himself. I kept quiet, knowing that Richard had more to say if I just gave him time. “This past year has been so.. intense, and chaotic. Finding and buying a new place, moving out, dividing up all our things, the divorce, Jasmine, breaking my nose...” Setting down his wineglass he rubbed his face with his hands and sighed. “I've wanted to get away for a while now, just to have a breather, leave everything behind, if only for a few days. But I didn't want to go alone, I've felt lonely enough as it is. I thought about asking Jezza or James, or one of my brothers, but they all have.. families or girlfriends and... Well, to be perfectly honest you were the only one I could picture taking with me. I needed this too, Ron.”
“I think we both needed this,” I smiled.
“You know, being down here... I haven't felt this much like my old self in over a year.”
“So you're basically saying that I don't really know the real you? Because the person I've known so far isn't who you really are?” I asked with a smirk, and he chuckled a little.
“No, I think you know me pretty well. At least I feel like you do. But I have perhaps done things while you have known me, stupid things, and mistakes, because I've been confused or upset. Things that I probably wouldn't have done if I wasn't going through... what I have been going through.” I nodded slowly to show my understanding, but privately my thoughts were racing. What things was he referring to? Him dating Jasmine, or sleeping with his ex-wife? Hardly seeing me while he was busy dating? Or was he talking about things he'd done with me? Always ending up next to me in a bed, sleeping next to me, cuddling me, or that time we kissed? I wanted to ask him about this, but as ever I was terrified of the answer, of hearing that he thought kissing me was a mistake. So I decided against it.
“I guess when you've been married for a while or been in a long relationship... I can imagine it can be hard to find back to yourself, to find out who you are without that other person. You've been with someone else for so long it's hard to see where you end and that person starts. 'What are my thoughts, and what are hers?' I don't know, I haven't had a very long relationship like that, I'm just guessing,” I shrugged. But Richards nodded thoughtfully.
“You're right, though, I did feel like that. That was what scared me the most, I didn’t know who I was anymore being on my own. Like I told you once, I just felt completely lost on my own, I didn't know how to think or feel about things anymore.”
“But do you know now?”
“I'm getting there,” he nodded slowly, smiling a little.
“Good.” I gave him an encouraging smile. After the sudden serious turn in our conversation we changed the topic to something more light-hearted, both of us wanted to keep things bright and fun for as long as we could, we were very much aware that we were going back home to reality tomorrow. In a dip in the conversation I made a face and groaned, deciding I couldn't stand these shoes anymore.
“What?”
“My feet are hating me for forcing them into these shoes. And agreeing to walk back here probably wasn't the best idea either... I was hoping the alcohol would numb the pain but it isn't working,” I complained.
“Give them here,” Richard said, holding out a hand.
“What, the shoes?” I frowned.
“No, the feet!” he sighed exasperatedly. Leaning forwards he grabbed my legs by the ankles and hoisted my bare feet into his lap.
“No, Richard, you don't have to...” I began, but he waved me down and started massaging one of them anyway.
“Don't worry about it. I'm rather good at this, you know. I used to do this all the time for Mindy, she wasn't too fond of high heels either.” At first, I'm tense, half expecting it to tickle, but Richard was good at this, and before long I relaxed and closed my eyes, sighing happily. It was obvious that he had done this before because he knew exactly where he should massage to relieve sore women's feet.
“I'll hand it to you, you're not bad at this,” I said after a while when he swapped from one foot to the other. After a thoughtful silence, I added: “I hope Mindy appreciated how lucky she was, being married to such a bloody good man.” At this Richard shrugged awkwardly.
“Can't have been that good, the marriage didn't exactly go brilliantly,” he muttered a little sadly.
“Oh, Richard... Even though you got divorced, that doesn't make you a bad man. Because you're not, not even close,” I reassured him.
“Thanks,” he mumbled shyly. He fell silent but kept rubbing my feet, and I let him be for a little. But after a while, I wondered if he was just sitting there quietly beating himself up for his failed marriage, so I tried to get him to talk again.
“What's on your mind?” I asked lightly, poking him in the tummy with my free foot. His eyes met mine, and I was surprised to see that he blinked rapidly as a hint of a blush washed over his face.
“Honestly, sitting like this, all I can think about is when you said you always go commando,” he admitted, looking down my bare legs. He was sitting a lot higher than me, him in a deck chair and me on the low sofa with my legs in his lap. My dress had slid up my thighs a little, revealing over half of them, and I hadn't even noticed. I couldn't help but laugh loudly at this admission, but my insides flushed hot. Was this flirting?
“I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I am actually wearing underwear,” I said in a sober tone. But I couldn't resist the temptation to grab the hem of my dress and hoist it up on one side to reveal a little of the outside of my hip, and with it the black see-through lace hipster I was wearing underneath the dress. I was careful to show as little as possible, just giving him a quick, little glimpse of my knickers.
“Gee, thanks! That didn't help much!” Richard groaned, his face flushing red again. I pulled my dress back down to a seemly length.
“Red wine always gave you the horn,” I snorted, taking another sip of my glass. Chuckling a little, Richard shook his head exasperatedly.
“And cava gives you a little mean streak,” he shot back. I waited for him to take another sip of his wineglass before talking again.
“The bra matches, if you were thinking about that too,” I added matter-of-factly. At this Richard spluttered into his wineglass, then groaned even louder, screwing his face up
“I wasn't thinking about that, actually, funnily enough!” He shouted.
“But you are now,” I smirked. Leaning forward I snatched his cigarette pack off the table and lit one up. I'd tried to cut back on smoking, but right now I needed one, if anything just as a means to keep up this façade of boldness. I confidently blew smoke out between my lips. Richard was practically squirming in his seat now, and I was loving it. We'd never acted like this before, we'd never flirted and teased each other this way before.
“I am thinking about that now, very much,” he nodded, eyes closed, rubbing his temples. “Could we possibly change the subject now?” He begged, his voice a little weak.
“Sure. You brought it up,” I pointed out innocently. In a desperate attempt to quickly change the topic he asked about which other places I would want to travel to, and that was the end of our flirting for the night. But I couldn't shake the exciting feeling it had given me. Richard had finished rubbing my feet now, but they were still in his lap and he kept running his palm over my bare foot and ankle absent-mindedly while he talked, which distracted me. Inevitably the bottles became empty, and it was getting late. With a yawn, I noted that it was nearly 2 am and that it might be time to turn in. Richard agreed, but a little reluctantly. Frankly, I could've sat on that balcony all night, just talking to him, and drinking champagne, but god knows what I might say or do with more alcohol in my system. Having gotten out of the sofa I picked up my shoes and headed inside. Richard followed right behind me and closed the balcony door. Feeling like I had to say something, I stopped in the middle of the room and turned around to face him. “Listen, I just need to... Thank you for everything, I've had a great night, the restaurant was fantastic and to be honest, I probably could've sat out there on that balcony forever. But more importantly, I need to thank you for taking me here in the first place, for doing all this for me, and surprising me...” Suddenly, and to my annoyance, I felt how a sour lump swelled in my throat as emotions welled up in me. “It... It means a lot to me because no one has ever done anything like this for me. It's... the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me, and I have a hard time figuring out how can I show you how grateful I am.” I made it through my sentences without crying, but I felt how my eyes teared up a little.
“You've had a good time, and that's all I care about. I want you to be happy, and have fun, at least for a little bit,” he shrugged.
“I've had the best time ever,” I smiled, took a few steps toward him, and wrapped my arms around him. I hugged him for a long time, just running my hand over his back, needing to feel his warmth and show my gratitude for a little while. He slid his hand up my back and buried his fingers in my hair, holding me close. “Thank you so much, Richard.” Unable to stop myself I gave him a long, lingering kiss on the cheek, as close to the corner of his mouth as I dared. The desire to kiss him was a physical, almost painful one, but for the millionth time, my courage failed me. Reluctantly I pulled away from him, withdrew my arms from around him and took a step back. “Good night, Richard. Sleep tight.”
“Night night, Ron,” he said with a melancholic smile. I turned on my bare feet and headed for the door. Just as I turned the handle I heard his voice from behind me.
“Ron? ... Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?”
“No, you didn't actually,” I said, unable to hide the blush creeping up my neck.
“Well, you do. You're gorgeous,” he said with a shrug as if apologizing for not having said this earlier.
“Thanks. You look pretty handsome yourself. I've always loved that suit on you.” The blush was definitely visible on me now. “Anyway. Night, Richard.” I tore open the door and left the room, mostly because I was desperate to hide my flustered face.

Chapter Text

Three weeks after we came back from Italy, it was time for the annual Top Gear summer party. It was often held in late May, before everyone either buggered off on summer holidays or they started airing a new season, depending on the scheduling cycle. Sometimes the “spring” seasons were aired early in the year, sometimes it didn't start until may-June, and no one could ever figure out just quite why. The fact that I was even invited to this thing came as a surprise, as I hadn't had anything to do with Top Gear since I went to Africa with them. And now that I was, I couldn't stop worrying about how the party would go, considering our appearance in the Sun a few weeks back. Richard and I had barely seen each other since Italy, we've both been busy working, and whatever mocking we had received came from our respective friends and co-workers. Richard had borne the brunt of this simply because he knew a lot more people than I did. But what would happen when we were seen together at a big party like this? How big of a deal were people going to make of this? Knowing the guys in the crew, not to mention Jezza and James, it was all too easy to imagine the worst. So far I had been able to deal with the suggestive questions and knowing smirks on my own, but I had no idea how to handle it when it came from the entire Top Gear crew all at once. Maybe it would be best to just try and avoid Richard for most of the evening, at least as much as I politely could. If I was to be seen constantly attached to his hip it would just make everything worse, I concluded. But the thought of going to this party and having to stay out of Richard's way didn't seem like a fun prospect either. There would be hundreds and hundreds of people there, from the BBC and showbusiness, the car industry, media publishers, the lot, and I was painfully aware that I only knew a tiny percentage of these people. My acquaintances were limited to the people in the crew and production staff, and the three hosts. But I still wanted to go, just for the opportunity of going to such a big party and getting dressed up again. The party itself was being held at a huge hotel in London, and as soon as I got the invitation I decided to book myself a hotel room, just for the practicality of it. The thought of staying sober and driving back to Guildford didn't even strike me. This way I would have a hotel room where I could get ready, I could just take an elevator downstairs to the party, and wobble back upstairs again when the drinking caught up with me. I told Richard about my plan in a text the day before the party, and he immediately saw the genius in it and announced he was going to do the same. I realized that this might not be such a good idea, if it got out that we were both staying there that might spark even more rumors and speculations. But then it struck me just how paranoid that sounded, so I decided not to point it out to him.

After two hours of meticulous, rather obsessive pruning I decided that enough was enough. I had washed my makeup off two times now to start over again, and I was not going to do it a third time. With this amount of stress and anxiety what I needed more than anything was a damn drink. Part of me wondered what I was more nervous about, seeing Richard or seeing everyone else. Italy hadn't been such a great experience just because of the beautiful country and the fantastic car, more than anything it was Richard's company that had made it perfect. For a few days it had been just the two of us, away from everyone and everything, for a few days I had felt like he'd been all mine, and I hadn't managed to let that feeling go yet. I knew that when I entered this party, it would all go back to the way it had always been, I'd still be his friend but I'd have to share him with everyone else and the thought made me a little sad. With a sigh I shoved my feet into a pair of heels for the second time in a month, which was probably some sad new record, thinking that I doubted there would be any foot rubs at the end of this evening. In the elevator I nervously straightened my new plum-colored, floor-length dress, feeling a little out of character. Wearing a dress in this rich, bold color and this flowy fabric didn't feel quite like “me” at all. But the woman in the store had seen just how much I loved the color of it and had managed to convince me to try something new.

The first one I ran into at the party was of course Richard, as if the universe was out to mock my plan from the get-go. For the second time in a month, he didn't recognize me and walked straight past me before doing a massive double-take, calling my name.
“Ron?”
“Hm? Oh, yeah, hi, it's me,” I said as I spun around to face him. Here I was, half-hoping he was indeed just going to saunter right by without noticing. Richard was in a dark blue suit and a crisp white shirt. Having ditched a tie, the top two buttons on his shirt are undone, forever drawing my gaze to his neck and chest.
“Wow, you look... ” His voice faded away as he was far too preoccupied with eyeing my body slowly up and down, pausing first at the thigh-high split and then even longer at the plunging neckline. Clearing his throat he tore his gaze away from my cleavage and forced his eyes to meet mine again. "You look bloody amazing," he smiled, causing my heart to momentarily stop in my chest. As so many times before I hid my awkward blushes behind a joke.
“Always the tone of surprise,” I sighed and rolled my eyes, pretending to be exasperated.
“Sorry, I'm still not used to seeing you in dresses,” he mumbled apologetically. To my surprise he closed the gap between us and gave me a warm hug, running his hand up and down my back.
“You don't look awful, yourself,” I said softly into his ear.
“Gee, thanks!” He chuckled, giving me one last squeeze before letting me go.
“Listen, I just got here, I desperately need a drink,” I explained, taking a step in the direction of the bar, and away from him.
“Oh, yeah, definitely, go get a drink, I'll see you later,” he nodded. Just as I was about to turn and walk away from him he spoke again. “We're on for hotel breakfast tomorrow, right? 10 am?”
“Um.. yeah, sure,” I nodded hastily. “If I'm alive at that hour.”
“I'll make sure you are,” he chuckled, then let me go. Reaching the bar I ordered myself a Cuba libre and a glass of white wine, and nearly downed the Cuba libre in one go in a desperate ditch to settle my nerves. Unsure if it had really helped, I picked up my wineglass and started meandering around the place, looking for familiar faces. Whenever I ran into someone from the crew or the production people, I was greeted with a lot more warmth and enthusiasm than I had expected, and not one of them mentioned the article in the Sun or the fact that Richard and I had gone to Italy together. Maybe they'd all been told off by Hammond already. Or maybe they knew enough about British tabloids to know that what the article said was bollocks. Soon I ran into James and Emily, who both hugged me and chatted with me for far longer than I would have expected. It was while talking to them that I spotted them through the crowd for the first time - Richard was in deep conversation with a slender, beautiful woman. I could guess she's about his age, with salon-styled hair, sun-tanned skin, wearing impeccable make-up and what looked like a very expensive dress and pair of high heels. Thinking hard, I tried to figure out if I'd seen her before, but I drew a blank. They were standing far too close together, and the whole scene distracted me completely from my own conversation.
"Ronja?" Emily's voice snapped me back to reality, and I squared my shoulders and directed my attention back to her and James, apologizing for being absent-minded. My plan to stay out of Richard's way this evening quickly proved to have been a rather unnecessary one. Every time I saw him in the next four hours, he seemed to have that woman attached to him. Or maybe he was attached to her, it was hard to tell. At any rate, they seemed to be flirting furiously, making it quite clear that he was indeed free to do whatever he wanted and was, whatever the papers might say, in fact not dating a lowly nurse living in Guildford. It seemed like wherever I looked, there they were, as much as I tried to avoid them.
«Fucks sake!» Upon opening my pack of cigarettes I discovered that my last one was broken, and I swore loudly. I crushed the packet with one hand and threw it angrily in the bin, grumbling. I had allowed myself to buy a ten-pack for this party, promising myself that I wouldn't smoke all of them. But my efforts to try and avoid Richard, paired with my frustration and jealousy, had forced me out onto the balcony more and more often over the past hours.
«Here.» An opened cigarette packet suddenly came into view and was waved in front of me. My eyes tracked the arm of the person holding the packet and landed on a surprising, but familiar face.
«Oh... Hi, Jeremy. Thank you...» I plucked a cigarette out of the packet and lit up. I had greeted him briefly earlier but hadn't had a chance to talk to him after that.
«Not having a great night, are you?» he observed, sparking up a fag himself.
«What? Oh... Well, it's not terrible. I just... hardly know anyone here apart from the crew, there are a million people in there...» I waved my cigarette towards the party indoors. «I just feel a bit lonely.»
«Hm, I don't know what's worse, not knowing everyone, or actually knowing all million and they wall want to talk to you,» he sighed, obviously not having the greatest night himself. I could see how being in his shoes couldn't be easy either. This party was huge, and the guests were people from the car industry, showbusiness, publishers, authors, journalists, public relations, and advert people, and everyone wanted to talk to Jeremy. Or one of the other two.
«I suspect it is equally boring,» I mumbled.
«And I suspect you would've found this party a lot more fun if your mate hadn't been so... preoccupied,» he pointed out delicately. It was obvious that he had spotted how busy Richard had been this evening, and correctly deduced that this was what has made me feel rather abandoned.
«Well, what can I say,» I shrugged casually, blowing smoke out between my lips, trying to act nonchalant. «My best mate has a penis, sadly, and like most men, he tends to let it do the thinking for him.» At this Jeremy cackled his raspy laugh. «At least one of us is getting something,» I added in the same light tone, deciding to keep up the act as the best mate. Jeremy gave me a long, sidelong glance as he exhaled smoke.
«So how was Italy? Did you have fun?»
«Oh no, being forced to drive all through Italy in an Aston Martin was my idea of absolute hell.» The ice-cold sarcasm caused Jezza to chuckle some more. «No really, it was absolutely amazing. I can only speak for myself, I don't know how much fun he had sitting in the passenger seat.»
«He can't have suffered that much,» he scoffed. «I mean, he was in a fantastic car, being driven around a gorgeous country, on amazing roads, with a woman he likes very much. I bet you had some good food and stayed at some nice hotels, too,» he winked.
«Yeah, we did. I still can't quite believe it happened, that he actually bothered doing all that for me. I'll never be able to repay him for a percentage of it... » I sighed, feeling that same twinge of guilt I had felt when in Italy.
«And he would never expect you to, either. I think he saw it as a way of trying to pay you back some of what he owes you.» Jezza pointed at me with what remains of his cigarette. I frowned at him, not following.
«And why would he owe me anything?»
«You helped him get through his divorce, Ronja, you got him back on his feet. I'm not sure he could've done that without you. And he knows that, even if he hasn't told you so.»
«Hmm..» I mumbled, thinking. The way Jeremy was talking now reminded me of the conversation we had in Uganda, and seeing him all sincere and serious was as surprising to me now as it was back then. «At least I didn't end up hurting him, huh?» I sighed, referring to the warnings Jeremy had tried to give me back then. He squinted, considering me for a moment.
«But did he hurt you?» He asked cunningly, raising an eyebrow.
«Only because I let him.» I didn't know what possessed me to admit to this, it just fell out of my mouth in the same instant as the thought ran through my head. Jeremy looked at me in stunned surprise. There was a moment of silence in which he pondered his response.
«I thought you promised you would take care of yourself?» His voice was uncharacteristically mild. Sometimes he could seem simple and dim, but I could tell from the look on his face that he knew exactly what I was saying now. He knew that I had basically just confessed to having feelings for Richard. Confessed to having gotten too close to him, and that him and I being just friends wasn't how I wanted things to be. Before Jeremy got a chance to say anything, or ask questions, I began talking.
«He doesn't know, Jeremy. And that's how things are going to stay.» He opened his mouth to argue, but I cut him off again. «He's all I have, Jeremy. Quite literally. So I'll just have to take him any way I can have him. I won't risk losing him as a mate.» To my surprise, Jeremy showed his palms in a disarming gesture.
«Okay, all right, I'm not going to say anything. Now; that doesn't mean I agree with you, with how you're handling this. Because I don't. But I'm not arguing with you, I know better than that. Come on, let's at least get you another drink, you obviously need one, lass." Jeremy wrapped his long arm around my shoulder and squeezed me once in a comforting manner, steering me towards the balcony door.
“No, Jeremy, I think I'm just gonna go to my hotel room, I've had enough partying for today...” I protested moodily.
“Rubbish. If you leave now he's just going to wonder where you are and why you left and I am rubbish at thinking up cover stories on my feet,” he argued back. I picked up on the hidden threat in that statement; if I left now, Jezza might not lie very well on my behalf.
“He won't even notice I'm gone,” I pouted childishly.
“Yes, he definitely will. Trust me,” Jeremy said sternly, leaving no room for arguments. I wasn't about to launch into a discussion with this giant of a man, and meekly followed his lead towards the bar. Sitting down on a barstool he quickly ordered up a couple of drinks, and while the bartender was busy mixing them up he said nothing, just looked at me through the corner of his eye. I let my gaze meander across the bar and over the crowds, looking at nothing in particular, until a gap in the crowd opened up to show Richard and that woman laughing loudly, standing closer than ever, his arm resting at the small of her back. With a frustrated sound of disgust, I swiveled my barstool to the left, removing them from my sight.
“Jeremy, can't I just go? Please? Why are you so intent on making me stay?” I moaned.
“Because...” he began slowly, accepting the drinks from the bartender and sliding one towards me. “... if you are indeed just going to settle for having him in your life in 'whatever way you can', then that is the sort of thing you are going to have to get used to.” At the word 'that' he pointed discreetly in the direction I was resolutely not looking.
“But-” I began.
“And you can't just avoid it all the time, Ronja. You can't avoid him or shy away from him whenever he has a flirt or a girlfriend, because dim as he admittedly is, he will eventually pick up on that. And he'll start asking questions.” He drew quotation marks around the term in mid-air. My shoulders sagged as I sighed heavily and took a moody sip of my drink.
“Ugh, what am I drinking Jeremy?”
“Harvey Wallbanger. So there you have it,” he said pointedly, evidently not prepared to drop the topic just yet. “Either get used to that. Or, you know... Don't,” He added simply, raising his palms.
“Why did I tell you anything?” I complained.
“To be honest you didn't really have to tell me anything, Ronja, I had sort of guessed.” Despite his mild-mannered voice, his words caused panic to wash over me.
“What do you mean? Is it that obvious? Do I come across as some soppy, love-stricken fool who keeps fawning over a man she obviously can't have?”
“No no no, relax, not at all,” he said, showing his palms again in a disarming and calming gesture when he saw the despair in me. “But I know how much time you two spend together, and Richard has told me how you're always there for him. I can't imagine that being easy, he's too impulsive sometimes and does a lot of stupid things because of it. And I'm guessing that you're the one who has to hear him complain about it afterward. Am I right?”
“Pretty much, yes,” I nodded shyly. I didn't feel bad for confirming this, it wasn't like I was going behind Richard's back and spilling my guts to Jeremy. He already knew how things were, or did a very good job at guessing.
“To answer your question; no,” he said as if starting over. “You do not come across as being hopelessly in love, and I am willing to bet that almost everyone thinks you two are best mates and nothing else," he said reassuringly. “But... You are a strong person, Ron. You're strong-minded, you can hold your own and you're independent. It just struck me that someone like you... wouldn't do all the things you do for Richard unless you had feelings for him. You always go the extra mile for him, Ron. If he needs you, you drop everything to help him,” he pointed out, having a swig of his drink.
“Um... Should I say thanks now?” I mused, mostly to myself, recognizing that there had been a few compliments in there somewhere. There was a long silence in which I tried to stop my head from spinning off my shoulders.
“I can't believe I'm having this conversation with you of all people,” I muttered.
“Believe me, love, neither can I.” He graced me with his raspy chuckle. “Anyway, I better go talk to some people, I'm sure there are about a hundred thousand people left who still have something incredibly unimportant thing to talk to me about,” he whined as he got up from his barstool. Once on his feet he patted down his pockets and procured the opened pack of cigarettes from before. “Here, you keep it. I always have two packs on me at parties.” I accepted the packet from him.
“Thanks, Jezza,” I said gratefully, holding it up. “And for the chat."
“Chin up. Have another drink. That's an order!” He barked, pointing at me, then weaved his way through the crowd. My shoulders sagged as I sighed audibly, suddenly feeling very lonely again. Needing some way to channel my restlessness I went outside for a cigarette. I had to pass Richard and 'that woman' on the way, close enough for him to easily could have said something to me, but he didn't, which annoyed me almost more than anything else. Honestly I wasn't sure he even noticed me. He hadn't spoken to me once this evening since I met him when I arrived. Was he just too caught up in his flirting to have time to talk to his mate, or did he feel bad about something? I smoked furiously as I pondered these things, fully aware of how bitter and jealous I sounded within the privacy of my own head. Returning back inside I followed Jezza's order and got myself another drink. Not feeling like I wanted to sit on display with my loneliness at the bar I meandered around the place until I find a chair by an empty table in a dark corner. My plan was to sit here and try to slowly finish my drink, and if nothing interesting happened within the next twenty minutes I was going to call it a night. For a while I absent-mindedly stirred my drink while I wasted time on my phone, doing menial things like checking the weather forecast and Twitter and reading the news. An unfamiliar voice caused me to look up from the screen.
“Um, excuse me, hi. Ronja, isn't it?” I stared at the man standing in front of me, trying desperately to recognize him. The dim lighting in this place didn't make it any easier for me. I knew I have seen him before, but couldn't for the life of me remember his name.
“Oh, um, hello,” I said as I straightened up a little, trying my best to smile kindly at him. I wanted him to know that even if I might not recognize him, that wasn't because I couldn't be bothered. He was tall and lanky, with curly hair and incredibly kind eyes. “I'm sorry, but I have no idea who you are, I just know I've seen you before. I'm terrible with names, and faces. And the fact that my brain is floating around in about five drinks' worth of alcohol isn't helping my memory at the moment,” I apologized.
“That's okay. I'm Liam.” He stretched out a hand in greeting and returned the smile. I scrambled up from my chair and shook his hand. “I'm a rigging technician in the crew, but I started right before you were finished with your season. I was supposed to come with you guys to Africa, I was at that meeting where you gave everyone the cholera vaccines. But I managed to dislocate my shoulder right before we were leaving and couldn't go,” he explained.
"Oh, right, I do remember that! That we were a man short because of a dislocated shoulder. How did you manage that?” I asked.
“Well, I have a dog... A rather big.. dog..” he began with an embarrassed little smile. “And well, I was walking her and I wasn't paying attention, and along came a cat...”
“Ah, I can sort of see where this is going,” I chuckled.
“Yeah, she noticed the cat and bounded off, yanking me along with her. I fell over and landed in a bad way.”
“Ouch...” I made a sympathetic face at him. Then I realized that I was still standing, and so was he. “Why are we still standing? You're welcome to sit down, if you want to,” I added quickly, and sank back down into my chair.
“Oh, thank you,” he said politely and sat down opposite me, placing his beer on the table. “I'm sorry if I impose... It's just that, well, to be honest, you looked as lonely as I felt. And I've always wanted to talk to you.”
“No, no, you're not imposing, you're right, I am as lonely as I look,” I hastened to reassure him. “I don't even know what I'm doing here, to be honest. I mean, I'm not working with the show anymore and the only people I know here are those who worked in the crew when I was in the studio or went to Africa.”
“I thought you were pretty good friends with Hammond?” He asked. I detected no sort of malice in his voice, just general inquisitiveness.
“Well... Yeah, I guess that's true," I muttered vaguely, unwilling to label myself as Richard's friend right now. "But you know how it is for those three at these parties, they're pretty busy,” I shrugged. “Sorry, I can't stop thinking about that dog of yours. What kind of dog is it? I'm picturing like.. a massive Irish wolfhound here.” At this, he chuckled a little.
“No, no, not quite that huge. She's an Alsatian, actually. But she's pretty strong, especially when she sees cats.”
“Aw, I love Alsatians. Especially the ones with longer coats.”
“Kira is long-haired, actually. And the fact that one of her ears doesn't stand up properly, but still flops over like it did when she was a puppy makes her incredibly endearing. I swear that floppy ear has been her saving grace more than once when I've felt like killing her,” he mused. “I seem to remember that you have a dog, too? Or am I mistaken?”
“No no, you're right, I do, I have a labradoodle, Sprocket. He's a scruffy mess, but I love him. He even managed to knock up Richard's labradoodle last year, suddenly we had puppies. Oops.” I rolled my eyes innocently and bit my lip, and Liam laughed at this.
“Amazing how quickly that can happen,” he nodded. “So, you're not working with Top Gear anymore. What are you up to these days?” Liam and I fell into lighthearted conversation, trying to get to know each other. He seemed intelligent and kind and had tonnes of humor. And above all, he seemed interested in me. Which is why it was driving me mad that I couldn't stop thinking about Richard. And 'that woman'. I saw them every now and then through the crowd, and it always distracted me from whatever Liam and I were talking about. I wanted to be interested back because this man seemed... Like someone I could like, there's some sheltered warmth and goodness in him. With a sigh, I stared into the dredges of the drink Liam had treated me to half an hour ago. I couldn't do this, I couldn't sit here and talk to this man, trying to flirt and wishing I was interested. Not now, not tonight.
“Listen, Liam... I am really sorry, but you have met me on a really, really bad day. Well, night,” I began honestly, looking intently at him across the table. “Please believe me when I say that I would love to talk more with you, but... just not here, not tonight.” I expected him to stiffen, to take this as some sort of rejection and become cold and distant, but he didn't.
“If tonight is a bad night, meeting you on a good night must be fantastic,” he smiled, his voice filled with kindness.
“I hope I won't disappoint you,” I mumbled, feeling a blush creep up my neck. “I hate myself for doing this, and I really don't want to explain why, but right now I just want to go to my hotel room and crawl into bed.”
“That's okay, you don't have to explain anything. I believe you when you say you're having a bad night, that's enough for me.”
“For what it's worth, you've made it a bit better,” I smiled shyly. “I was hoping that maybe I could have your phone number? That way maybe I could contact you when I'm having a.. not-so-awful day.” My sentence ended in an awkward mumble. But he just smiled and we swapped numbers.
“Listen, can I walk you out?” Liam asked a little timidly. “This party was really boring before, and now that you're leaving I really don't see the point in sticking around.” Once again he managed to draw out my smile.
“Yeah, sure.” I stuffed my phone into my little purse and we got up from our chairs. As we weaved our way through the crowd of people heading for the exit, he walked close to me, I felt small next to him, but in a good kind of way. I felt protected, somehow. Passing the bar I spotted Richard again, the woman he'd been lugging around all evening was talking to someone else and he wasn't taking part in the conversation. As he spotted me he stared at us, there was a hint of a frown on his face as he intently studied the man walking next to me. Our eyes met for a fraction of a second, just long enough to show him that I had seen him. And that he'd seen me. Leaving. Apparently with someone. And part of me felt some sort of vindictive pleasure in that. As Liam and I reached the hotel lobby we came to a halt. “How are you getting home?” I asked.
“Taking a cab. I live up near Hampstead Heath, Haverstock Hill.”
“Oh, you do? I love it up there. I used to live in Kentish Town, me and Sprocket have spent our fair share of walks in the Heath,” I smiled.
“Small world, huh,” he smiled back. “Listen, I said earlier that I've wanted to talk to you ever since I first met you, and now I am glad I did.”
“Aw, thank you..” I averted my eyes and shuffled my feet, trying to hide another blush. “I am glad you did. Talk to me, that is. I hope I can be better company next time.”
“Whatever it is that is troubling you... Take care of yourself, Ronja.”
“I will try..” I nodded dutifully, looking at the floor before daring to look into his eyes. There was a concern in those eyes, and I couldn't believe myself for leaving his company just to crawl up into an empty bed and sulk. I craved warmth and his kindness, but tonight I craved it for all the wrong reasons. It would just be to distract myself from Richard, and that would be the wrong thing to do. I barely knew this man, but I knew that I didn't want to do him any wrong. “Can... can I have a hug before you go?” The question fell out of my mouth before I can stop myself.
“Of course.” He took a step forward and wrapped his arms around me, he nearly had to bend down a little to hug me properly. He held me tightly and I felt the warmth of his cheek and neck against mine, and I ran my hand over his back a few times before letting go. “I hope you have a good night, Ronja. Sleep tight.” He gave me one final smile before he turned on his heels and walked out the door. With a lump already growing in my throat, I pressed the button for the lift, and I bit my lip to stop the tears from beginning to flow. Suddenly I wasn't just upset about Richard, but also about having said goodbye to this seemingly great man. Even more so because Richard was the reason why I couldn't enjoy meeting a nice man and getting to know him better. Not only had he ruined my night by being an insufferable, insensitive randy bastard, but now he'd also ruined my meeting other blokes as well. By the time I reached the hotel room the sour lump in my throat was gone, the sadness had been replaced by smoldering anger. The minute I was inside my room I got out of my dress and horrible hold-in stockings and put on a fluffy hotel bathrobe. I opened a window and leaned out of it while I smoked a cigarette, knowing full well I wasn't supposed to, but I was too drunk and annoyed to care. Not feeling like going to sleep I crawled into bed and turned on the telly, flicking through channels and angrily passed over several channels that showed reruns of Top Gear. Eventually, I found an episode of House that I couldn't remember having seen before and settled back to watch it, hoping it would distract me for a while. I was surprised to find that I had almost nodded off when a knock on the door jerked me awake. Or was it the telly? I laid still, listening until the knock came again. I frowned at the door, half wondering if Liam had decided he wasn't going to be turned down that easily and had hunted out my room number. Most likely it was just someone who had the wrong room. Crawling out of bed I closed the bathrobe tighter around me as I headed for the door. Finding that the door didn't have a peephole I realized that the only thing I could do is open it. My mouth fell open when I did and found Richard standing on the other side of it.
“Hammond...” I mumbled stupidly, opening the door a little wider. From his glassy eyes and slightly dopey expression, I could tell that he was far drunker than me. “How did you get my room number?” This was my first question, as I was sure that I hadn't told him this.
“Told the bloke that I'd found your phone but didn't have your room number,” he said.
“Oh... wow.” I raised my eyebrows a little at how easily he admitted to having lied to the concierge just to find me. I was even more astonished at the fact that he seemed to be looking past me and into my room, not so discreetly trying to figure out whether I was alone or not. “Well, you found me. What is it?” He noticed the slight edge to my voice and he straightened up, his eyes snapping up to meet mine. He seemed to try and pull himself together, to focus and sober up a little.
“You.. left the party early, and you didn't say anything, or say goodnight, and I just... wanted to check on you, see if you're all right,” he said, trying to sound sensible. 'Early' was a bit of an exaggeration, it had been nearly 1 am by the time I had left. And I found it absurd that he had expected me to say goodnight to him when he had barely spoken a single word to me all night.
“Yeah, I'm fine. I just wasn't having fun, hasn't been the best night.” I could hear the distant tone in my own voice and realized I couldn't be bothered to hide it.
“Why not?”
“I don't know, Richard. Does it matter?” I sighed exasperatedly. He was the last person in the world I wanted to explain myself to right now. He had seemingly spent all evening flirting his way into this woman's knickers, yet he felt like he had the right to come by my room just to snoop around and figure out whether I was alone or not? And then he hid it behind pretending to care about how I was.
“Well, no, I just... I mean, yes, it matters to me,” he hurried to amend. Privately I wondered whatever had happened to his sidekick from before, and as if to answer my question I heard a female voice coming from down the hall. Richard's head whipped around in the direction of the noise.
“Richard? Where are you?” She appeared around a corner and spotted him in the corridor. “That wine is getting warm, silly,” she giggled, obviously every bit as drunk as he was.
“I'll be there in a second!” He called to her, an edge of panic in his voice. That's it, I've had enough of this, and I was far beyond trying to be courteous or pretending to not be annoyed. Just as Richard turned his head again to look at me I slammed the door in his face as hard as I could and emphatically locked the door. I remained by the door, holding my breath, waiting for Richard's reaction. Was he going to say something? Knock on the door? Demand an explanation? But after a few seconds, all I heard was his footsteps as he walked away. This time I had no chance of stopping the tears that rolled down my face, and with a sob I turned away from the door and wallowed on the bed, letting my emotions take over. I was utterly lost. What the hell was going on with Richard and me? We spent so much time together, slept cuddled up next to each other night after night, he even kissed me once but never mentions it again with a single word. He said once that in some ways we're more than just best mates, but in what ways? He took me to Italy, treated me to the time of my life, rubbed my feet, and told me how beautiful he thinks I am. Then a few weeks later he barely talks to me at a party because he was too busy chatting up a woman. Yet he seemingly couldn't stand having the suspicion that I might have invited a man up to my room and had to come check up on me. Anger and frustration mixed with jealousy and sadness, and I laid there in a heap of duvets and bathrobes sobbing until my body ran out of tears. Exhausted I turned off the telly, took off the bathrobe, and crawled into bed properly. I woke at nine, with a headache and a painful, anxious knot in my diaphragm. I remembered vaguely having agreed to meet Richard for breakfast, but I couldn't stand the thought of that. And he had probably forgotten all about it and was passed out next to a naked woman anyway. And if he wasn't, I knew I couldn't stay here, he'd just knock down my door until I opened. In a hurry, I packed my things, drew a comb through my hair, and removed the makeup from last night which was smudged all over my face. With a bag on my shoulder and my dress wrapped in a bag over my arm, I crept through the hallways as quietly as I could, concerned I might run into Richard at any moment. I reached the reception desk downstairs without meeting anyone familiar, I handed the concierge my key card and checked out, then practically ran back to the lifts. My car was parked in an underground parking garage beneath the hotel, and the moment I sat down in the driver's seat and locked the door I knew I was home free. Weaving my way out of London, heading for home, I realized that I probably shouldn't be driving just yet, there was no way my blood alcohol level had gone down to zero, but part of me was too desperate to get away from that hotel to care. Once in Guildford, I stopped by Tess, who had finally been granted her wish and been allowed to look after Sprocket for a day. I avoided her cheerful nature and curious questions by complaining of a hangover, which wasn't lying per se, and took Sprocket home. When I closed my own front door behind me, another wave of sadness and anxiety washed over me, and the only thing I felt like doing was crawl back into bed. My own bed. I left my bag on the floor and dumped the dress carelessly down next to it, shuffled through the house and wallowed into bed. For once I even invited Sprocket into it and I nestled up against him, burying my face in his fur. Jeremy was right. Either I had to pull myself together and accept that Richard had flirts and dates and girlfriends. Or I didn't. But what did that mean? That I was honest and told him how I felt? Or that I just pulled away from him and decided not to have him in my life? The latter seemed like the safer choice, that way I would at least spare myself the humiliation of being rejected. Wanting to distract myself from this dilemma I picked up my phone, noticing that I had received a text.
'Hi. I thought we were on for breakfast at ten? Where are you? I went by your room. Are you okay? Hamster.' I felt a tiny stab of guilt, but it was quickly replaced with annoyance.
'I thought you had someone else to eat breakfast with, so I reckoned I wasn't needed. I've gone home.” I was unsure whether I wanted a response from him or not. I was aware that I was acting petulant and jealous, but so had he last night. After a few minutes, another ping issued from the phone.
"No, I had breakfast alone. I missed you. Hamster."

Chapter Text

«Oi Richard! Wake up, mate!» As he snapped out of it, a microphone came back into focus in front of him. Oh yeah, he was supposed to work, doing voiceovers for the upcoming Top Gear episodes. But he wasn't doing a very good job of it, even he would freely admit to that today. He knew he could be easily distracted even at the best of times, but today he was being worse than ever. And he knew why. It had been a week and a half since the last time he heard from Ronja, and that was by getting a door slammed in his face and then a terse message the next day. After that, he hadn't been able to get word one out of her, and it was driving him up the wall. Like a few times before he was scrambling to figure out just exactly why Ronja was mad at him again. If she got mad at you, you wouldn't doubt for a second that she was, but she was also a master at never making it quite clear why. Richard kept racking his brain trying to figure out what he might have done. Everything had been great between them since Italy. Or so he thought, they'd hardly had time to see each other because of work. Things hadn't quite gone to plan in Italy, he had chickened out for what seemed like the millionth time and once again he hadn't said a single of those things he had meant to. But she couldn't know that? There was just something about Ron that seems so... untouchable. Like she had a huge wall around her and he could never be quite sure if he had gotten through it or if it just appeared that way. Or if she would even want him to get through it. She was always so quick to push him away again. He could understand why Ronja had built a wall around herself, he knew the horrible story of her upbringing, without a wall around her she probably never would have survived. But he had hoped that maybe she would let him in eventually. Of course meeting that woman, Donna, at the summer party hadn't helped, Richard was painfully aware of what a huge mistake that had been. She was a publisher he had met a couple of years ago at some event or other. He had been wildly attracted to her then, but he had still been married, they had flirted a lot but that was it, nothing else had happened. His marriage was already failing and the risk of losing his wife had made him behave. And now, suddenly she had been there again, and he had found himself divorced and half-drunk, and she had seemed incredibly... willing. He could hear himself as he thinks these thoughts, justifying his behavior, and flinched a little at how despicable he sounded. When did he become that bloke? After the divorce, apparently. It wasn't just Donna, it was Jasmine too. And all the slip-ups between him and Mindy that went on long after they were separated. Not that those were his only regrets. Watching Ronja slip out of that party with another bloke seemingly at her heels had flipped a switch inside him. The thought of her going off with some bloke, he couldn't get that out of his mind, he couldn't leave it. He had to know if there was someone in her room or not. He knew he had no right to, that she was free to do whatever she wanted, and with whoever she wanted. Just like he was. But he just hadn't been able to stop himself. Maybe because it felt like her being alone or not was in some weird way linked to how she really felt about him. All right, maybe pretending that he had no idea why Ronja could be angry with him was stretching the truth to breaking point. If he was honest with himself he could come up with a fair few guesses as to why Ronja was angry with him, but he just couldn't be sure which one it was. And that more than anything drove him mad. How could he apologize when she wouldn't even talk to him? And why did it seem like trying to make it right was all he ever did when it came to Ronja? He had no idea why, but it felt like he could never get things right when it came to her, he constantly messed up and puts his foot in it, and things never turned out the way he planned. And not because she was being particularly difficult, he just seemed to always fumble around her, like an insecure teenager. For what seemed like the hundredth time today he was dragged back down to earth by someone literally screaming his name at him, trying to make contact. «Hammond!! For fucks sake! Your bloody phone has been going off for ten minutes now, will you fucking pick up?» Richard jerked and hastily muttered apologies as he picked his phone up from the table and headed out of the claustrophobic little voice-over studio. Glancing at the screen he didn't see a name, nor a familiar number, but at least it was a London area code which made him less hesitant to pick it up. It could be someone he didn't feel like talking to, but then again you never know, and right now he had an inexplicable feeling he should really take this one.
«Hello?» He answered neutrally, careful not to present himself in case this was an over-eager fan, a reporter or suchlike.
«Hello? Is this Hammond?» A formal-sounding female voice came through the phone. The fact that she only used his surname made him both a little suspicious and confused.
«Er.. yes?»
“What is your first name?” She asked, making Richard's confusion complete.
“Um, it's Richard,” he mumbled.
«All right. Listen, do you know a woman by the name of Ronja Sol... Uh, Solheim?» She asked, struggling a little with the foreign-sounding surname.
«Yes, I do actually. How so?» Richard said, scratching his head now.
«Listen, do you know if she has any relatives I could contact? Parents, siblings, extended family, here or abroad?» The voice was ever polite and formal, not giving Richard a hint of what this could possibly be about. But his heart rate was speeding up now, fear mounting in him.
«No, I don't, I mean... She's from Norway, her mother has passed and she never knew her father, she has some half-siblings but they have never had any contact...» He stuttered.
«Would you say that you would be the closest to her next-of-kin, Mr Hammond...?»
«Richard. And um.. yes, maybe I am, I guess...? I don't know, we're good friends, she doesn't have that many in her... life...» he muttered.
«Well, mister Hammond, I am sorry but I have some bad news.»

Chapter Text

Am I dead? It's all dark... What IS that sound? God, it's so annoying. Beep. Beep. Beep. Sounds familiar, though. Like a heart monitor...? So I guess I'm not dead, then. Unless this is one of those out-of-body experiences. Jesus, what a cliché. Fuck it, I refuse to have one of those.
With a monumental effort, I forced my eyes open, my eyelids feeling leaden. As my eyes adjusted to the light, a white ceiling with swam into view. Mercifully the fluorescent lights were turned off, but the room was filled with daylight. I tried to recap what happened. I was in a hospital, I knew that much. Hell, I worked in one of these, the characteristic beeping and the slight hint of disinfectant in the air gave it away pretty quickly. I was a little amazed that I even knew why I'm here. I remembered it vividly, being in a cab, seeing the bus rushing towards me. A bloody bus. That moment had felt like an eternity, infinite amounts of time passing by in a microsecond. Sprocket. Richard. This is going to hurt so fucking much. Why didn't I ever go to Indonesia? Is this really it? Was that all my life was going to be? But after those fleeting, never-ending thoughts, everything had gone pitch black. Gingerly I tried moving something, anything, an arm, a finger, feeling terrified when no part of me feels like it wanted to respond. Please God, let something move. I don't have a habit of bothering you often, help me out this once. I breathed a sigh of relief when I felt my thumb twitch against the mattress. Lowering my eyes from the ceiling I slowly scanned the parts of the room which I could see from where I was lying. Sink, mirror, door, another door which I presumed was for a bathroom. Some awful, depressing mass-produced painting. A flat-screen TV mounted on the wall, a table... As my eyes landed on a high-backed armchair in the corner, I felt a dull twitch of surprise as someone seemed to be sitting in it. At first, it was just a blur, a vaguely humanoid shape that seemed to be staring into its lap. Squinting I tried to bring the person more into focus. After a while, I realized it was Richard, which didn't lessen my surprise much. Just as I came to this realization, Richard's eyes flicked upwards from his iPad, casting a quick glance at me in the bed. His eyes fell to the screen again before he did a massive double-take, realizing that I was looking back at him. Discarding the iPad haphazardly he bounded out of the chair and made it to my bedside in three huge strides. He didn't say anything, but his hand trembled violently when it took mine and squeezed it. He stared at me intently, obviously waiting for me to do something, say something, anything. I opened my mouth to say something, but no words came out. Instead, I squeezed his hand in return and tried to smile, but then a searing pain shoot through the left side of my face and I winced. Richard's face broke out into a wide smile, relief and happiness written across it.
«Oh god, Ron, thank you, thank you... Thank you so much for opening your eyes and smiling at me right now,» he croaked, his voice thick with emotion. He bent down low over me, gently placing his cheek against mine, on the side of my face that hadn't hurt earlier. He lingered there for a while before he kissed my cheek. Pulling back a little he smiled as he ran his free hand over my hair and the side of my face. “Bloody hell, Ronja... I've been so worried. You scared me so fucking much! Don't do that!” His eyes brimmed over with tears as he studied me, his lower lip trembling, and that more than anything was what scares me. If Richard was here, and even crying by my bedside, I must be in a bad way. But then again, I was hit by a bus, what else could I expect? Frankly, I hadn't even expected to survive. Quickly Richard wiped his eyes and hitched his smile back on, looking like he was trying to compose himself, to stay strong. «Listen, I have to go see if I can find the nurse, I said I would find her right away if you woke up...» His voice was a little hoarse. If? What do you mean if? That doesn't sound good. Don't you dare leave! When I felt his hold on my hand loosen I redoubled my grip, clinging to him. I felt like I had just emerged from some vast, gaping abyss, and now I was terrified of being left alone, of falling back in. My last thought before it all went black was of Richard; believing I would never see him again and now that I was holding his hand I never want to let go. «I promise I won't be long, love, I'll be right back, okay?» He looked at me intently, pleadingly, and I reluctantly loosened my grip on him, allowing him to go. He disappeared from my sight, and my heart rate instantly went up, fear taking control. I knew what had happened, but I didn't know how badly I was hurt. Years of experience in emergency rooms and hospitals, in general, presented me with a seemingly infinite array of possibilities of how bad it could be. Lying here I barely felt connected to my own body, everything felt numb, but hurt at the same time, hurt so much I couldn't distinguish one pain from the other. I was just about to lose it and go into a massive panic attack when I heard the door open again and multiple sets of footsteps approached me. I felt Richard's comforting hand around mine again, and he smiled reassuringly. On the other side of my bed was a doctor and behind her a nurse.
«Hello, Ronja. I'm Rebecca, I'm a doctor,” Her voice was soft and reassuring. «About time you woke up. Know where you are, dear?» Nodding I opened my mouth and try to say 'hospital', but it just turned into a croak. «Now, you've been on a ventilator, so your throat is going to be really sore and you won't have much of a voice, I'm afraid. So I don't want you to talk right now, okay?” I nodded obediently, and she smiled kindly. “I was just wondering if you remember what happened?”
“Crash... bus...” I croaked, instantly forgetting myself, but my voice only came out a whisper, barely audible.
“What did I say about talking? Nodding would've done the trick.” She sighed a little exasperatedly. I blinked a little as a way of apology. “But yes, you're right, you were in a crash, and a pretty bad one at that. You've been out for five days, you were brought in Thursday around midday, and now it's Tuesday evening. We kept you sedated for the first 36 hours to let your body rest, and we've gradually taken you off it. You understand?” My mind was reeling as the doctor explained. FIVE days? Giving me time to let it all sink in, the doctor did a round of quick neurological exams, checking my pupils, and telling me to squeeze her hands and touch the tip of my nose.
“Gee..cee...ess...?” I breathed when she seemed to have finished her exam.
“Ah, I forgot, you're a nurse. You had a GCS of 8 when you came in, so honestly, we were a bit worried, you obviously had sustained a bad knock to the head. Since you're in the same profession as me I'm not going to sugar-coat your injuries to you, all right? Starting at the top you have a four-inch skull fracture, and you had quite a few subarachnoidal contusion bleeds, but they all stopped on their own. You have a broken cheekbone and a broken clavicle. Other than that we saw no injuries to your spinal cord, miraculously. You do have four or five costal fractures, though, and, funnily enough, a broken pinky toe. Oh, and your humerus was dislocated, but we got that bugger back where it belongs too,” she added with a twinkle in her eye as if to make it all seem less grave.
“Humerus?” Richard asked the doctor, frowning a little.
“Shoulder,” I croaked.
“No talking!” They both barked at me in unison.
“No really, you should rest, don't try to talk. At least not right now, wait until the morning, yeah?” The doctor offered as a compromise. More nodding from me. The nurse that had hovered in the background took a step forward. “ Hello, Ronja. I'm Alice. I am going to get you some water. Do you have any pains?”
“Mm... Six...” I squeaked. At this Richard's eyes widened and his look flicked quickly from me to the doctor and then to the nurse, obviously worried that my incoherent answer was some sign of brain damage. But the nurse just nodded her understanding, and so did the doctor.
“She means a six on a pain scale, I reckon,” the doctor explained helpfully. “We often ask patients to place their pain on a scale from one to ten, where ten is the worst imaginable. A six means she's pretty miserable I'm guessing?” She looked at me with her eyebrow raised, and I nodded firmly. With every passing second it felt like the pain got worse and worse, it was evident that the sedation and pain meds were really leaving my body. “All right, I'll run and get you some pain medication and water. Be right back.” The nurse patted my arm gently, then walked out.
“I'm going to leave you to rest, Ronja. We were worried for a while, but you passed that neurological exam right now with flying colors, which I'm sure you're already aware of. I'll see you tomorrow,” the doctor smiled and disappears. Richard's grip on my arm loosened and I clamped down on his hand like a vice again.
“Ron, I'm just going to get a chair, I'll hold your hand for a year if you want, love, I just don't want to stand upright doing it.” There was no trace of annoyance in his voice, just kindness. At this, I gave him another crooked, apologetic smile and let go of his hand. The nurse returned and offered me a cup with a straw in it. With a shaky and rather uncoordinated hand, I raised it to my mouth and had a sip, which was harder than I thought considering half my face was so stiff and swollen it was basically paralyzed. I coughed and spluttered, then winced as pain shot through my ribs.
“That didn't go brilliantly...” The nurse muttered with a touch of sarcasm, wiping my chin. She motioned to take the cup from me but I pulled it towards me, wanting to try again. The second time my throat remembered what it was supposed to do, and the water went down the right pipe. Richard took the cup from me this time and set it down on the nightstand. The nurse busied herself with flushing my peripheral cannula with saline before inserting a syringe with a blank fluid. I gave it a quizzical look.
“Ketogan,” she informed me. I wrinkled my nose, knowing the drug would knock me out stone cold.
“Oh god... nite nite,” I mumbled, my voice a little stronger now that I'd had a drink. The nurse chuckled quietly.
“It most likely will cause that, yeah,” she agreed. “But you need the rest.” She flushed through the cannula again, and before leaving the room she informed Richard he could just press the button if I needed anything. Richard had pulled the high-backed armchair to the edge of the bed and as soon as he sat down in it I stretched out after his hand like a needy child. The effect of the medication hit quickly and I rolled my eyes a few times.
“Wheeee...” I slurred, rolling my eyes, feeling how the pain receded and my head started to spin. I was vaguely aware that somehow I should be more upset, more anxious, more hysterical, but for some reason, I just wasn't. Maybe it was the drugs they were giving me that were keeping me calm. I'd had a massive, horrible accident, one I was perfectly aware that I was incredibly lucky to have even survived. And from what I was told earlier I was most likely going to walk away from it without any sort of lasting injury. I should be hysterical, and I should be ecstatic, but I was too battered, exhausted, and high to be either. “Gooooooood drugs,” I mumbled. Despite himself, Richard snorted with laughter.
“Will you shut your gob and go to sleep? It seems like asleep is the only time you are able to stay quiet,” he barked, but there is nothing but kindness in his eyes. Obediently I nodded my head and squeezed his hand, refusing to let it go. He interlaced his fingers with mine, like he had done so many times before, his thumb calmly caressing my hand, again and again. “Go on, close your eyes.... I'll be here when you wake up.”

With a massive lurch, I threw my eyes open and gasped loudly. I awoke in a complete haze of terror, sobbing hysterically. Even though every sob made my entire body hurt I couldn't stop crying. I was trembling violently, but I couldn't move beyond that, completely paralyzed by anxiety. I didn't even know what I was so afraid of; I knew where I was, in a safe place, I knew that they had examined me for every possible injury, that there was nothing life-threateningly wrong with me, and that I was being looked after. All of these logical thoughts flit through my head, rushing to my aid, but none of them worked, I was still scared out of my wits and I couldn't tell why. My anxiety was all-consuming, so much that at first, I didn't even realize that Richard was there, by my bedside. He had pulled a chair as close to the bed as possible, and in an effort to try and wring me out of my panic and get through to me he squeezed my hand harder and leaned over me, placing his cheek against the good side of my face, hugging me gently.
“Ronja, ssh, everything is all right. You're safe, love, I'm here. It's okay, everything is all right... Does something hurt? Is something wrong? Should I call the nurse?” Fear and frustration were etched in his voice, he desperately wanted to help, to make it better. He pulled away slightly to look at me. I shook my head frantically, clinging to his hand, the only thing I needed right now was for him to stay close. And then, on top of the overwhelming fear I was experiencing, I was hit by a wave of guilt. I felt bad for crying so hysterically, for not knowing why and for not being able to stop myself. I felt bad for having gotten myself in that crash, even though I couldn't remember or deduce whether it could have been my fault or not, and I felt bad for having made Richard so scared and worried. I even felt bad that I was keeping him here in the hospital when he had work and his own life to live.
“I'm sorry. I'm sorry... I'm sorry....” I sobbed, over and over again.
“Sssssssh, Ronja, stop saying that, stop being silly,” he soothed. Through my hysteria, I vaguely registered that he gave my forehead a lingering kiss. “You haven't done anything wrong, you don't have anything to apologize for, love. It's all right...” Richard's hand was on mine, his thumb was caressing the back of my hand, his warm cheek is against mine, and I could even smell him. All of this along with his constant stream of mild, reassuring words eventually managed to calm me down. He sat there for god knows how long, awkwardly bending over me, hugging me, and holding my hand. If his back was struggling he never showed even a hint, and he remained there until I dropped off to sleep again, completely exhausted by my own panic attack.

Chapter Text

Opening my eyes I immediately closed them again, squinting against the harsh light. As my eyes adjusted to the brightness of daylight, the hospital room swam into view. Scanning the room from right to left I saw windows, the chair that was now empty, that ugly painting again... Then I noticed a hospital bed next to mine that hadn't been there before. Or maybe it had and I was just too groggy to have noticed. Richard was sitting in it, adjustable back raised up as far as it would go, deeply immersed in his laptop, sometimes tapping away at it. I laid there looking quietly at him for a long time, just getting used to being awake again, feeling like I hadn't been awake in years. With a casual sideways glance, he noticed that I was looking at him. Immediately he slammed his laptop shut and swung his legs off the bed.
“Good morning! Well, more like good afternoon.” Richard smiled, speaking softly, but I could still see the concern behind it.
“Hey, you...” I smiled back, glad to hear that my voice was a little stronger. Taking the cup off the nightstand he filled it with cold water and proffered it to me. I drank gingerly at first, but then emptied the cup and handed it back to him. “Thanks...” Sinking down into the armchair, Richard took my hand again.
“So... How are you feeling?”
“Like I was hit by a bus...” I muttered. Talking was still much more of an effort than I was used to, slow and a little painful. Richard chuckled quietly, rolled his eyes, and shook his head.
“I'm sorry to break it to you, but you look like it, too,” he said, cocking his head at me and making a face. I let out a snort of laughter which I immediately regretted as pain shoot through my ribs and head.
“Thanks, knob-head. You don't look so spiffy yourself...” I retorted. He looked pale, with dark rings under his big, beautiful eyes. “You look exhausted...”
“Well... I have to admit, it's been a long few days,” he admitted with a sigh, giving me a sad smile. “Nearly a week, now. Having been on both sides of it now, I must admit I much preferred being the one unconscious in the bed. I've been sick with worry.”
“Have you been here the whole time?” I gaped a little at him.
“Um, well, nearly....” It almost sounded like he was apologizing for not having been here constantly. “I nipped to the flat once, got a change of clothes, sorted out a few things, got Kristin to watch the dogs... After the first night, the nurses took pity on me and got me a bed.”
“Oh god, Sprocket!” I exclaimed, almost flailing in the bed as I suddenly remembered that I had left my dog at home, six days ago.
“Ah ah, relax, he's fine, he's being taken care of. I got your keys, got someone to drive him out to Kristin's, he's there with the others.” Richard practically pinned me down on the bed as he hurriedly explained this.
“Oh, thank god... Good, thank you... And thank you for staying here all this time.” I relaxed and gave him my crooked smile.
“Hey... Of course I was gonna stay, silly...” He said quietly, taking my hand again and squeezing it. He looked pointedly into my eyes for a while.
“How did they even know to call you?» I frowned as the question popped into my head.
«I don't know, really, I guess they checked your phone, read some texts or something?» he shrugged, obviously not having thought about this himself.
“I'm... I'm sorry about last night, about going all.. hysterical...” I mumbled, feeling almost ashamed.
“Hey, no no no, don't say that, don't say sorry, you don't have to... Did you dream something?”
“No, not that I can remember. I just woke up feeling.. afraid. Terrified.”
“You were sleeping very uneasily for a while before you woke up, I thought you were dreaming...” He explained.
“If I was, I can't remember it,” I shrugged, then winced as I remember one side of my body was broken.
“It's only natural, having these reactions after what you've been through,” he explained. “I had a lot of them. Panic attacks, weird waves of emotions that didn't fit the situation.” A silence fell between us in which Richard just caressed my hand, he seemed to have been doing this constantly every since I regained consciousness. As if he couldn't get enough of my skin beneath his fingers.
“Richard?”
“Mm?” He hummed, looking at me with his kind, warm eyes. I opened my mouth to ask a question that had flitted through my mind the previous night, and I was surprised to find that I couldn't speak a word of this question without immediately starting to cry. My lower lip wobbled and my voice shook as I spoke.
“Did anyone die? In the accident? What really happened? I'm not s-s-sure, I don't know, I can't remember all of it, just a few seconds...” He squeezed my hand, trying to soothe me and calm me down.
“I only know what was in newspapers. The bus driver ran a red light, according to witnesses. We probably won't ever know why, the driver... he didn't make it, nor did the cabbie driving you. Luckily the bus wasn't in service, so no one else got hurt.”
“Oh go...They both died!?” I warbled. He just nodded his head slowly, looking at me sadly. Unblinkingly I stared into his eyes, needing the warmth and reassurance they provided. "Now do you get why I was so scared? So worried about you?" Without letting go of my hand Richard got out of his chair and bent low over me, placing his cheek against mine once again in a gentle hug. I desperately wanted to hug him back, hug him properly, but I couldn't lying here in this bed. Suddenly I had an overwhelming urge to get out of bed, or at least sit up, I was stiff and sore and it felt like I had been lying here for months. Letting go of Richard's hand I planted the elbow on my good side in the mattress and tried to get up. The strain hurt like hell, my broken ribs and just about everything else protested wildly at the sudden strain.
“What are you doing? Should you be doing that? Shouldn't you lie still?” Richard fretted, looking worried.
“I've been lying still for a week! Stop jabbering and help?” I grumbled. Tentatively Richard slipped an arm around my back, trying to help me sit up. He was barely touching me, obviously terrified of breaking me more than I already was.
“Shouldn't a nurse be doing this? I don't know anything about moving... humans...” He gabbles nervously.
“I am a nurse!” I barked. With his help, I finally made it upright. Everything aches, but it felt nice to just be vertical for a change, at least partly. Then a massive wave of vertigo hit me and I grabbed hold of the sheets to steady myself. “Uh-oh, blood pressure drop.”
“Lie back down again, will you? Ronja, you're white as a sheet. Well, half of you is black and blue, but-”
“Gimme a minute.” I breathed deeply. I had seen this in many patients who had been in bed for a few days, patients just out of surgery, or who had been in accidents. Most of them experienced a wave of nausea and dizziness as their blood pressure didn't adjust quickly enough to the fact that they had gotten out of bed. I felt woozy and unsteady, and with his arm still around me, Richard sat down on the edge of my bed, acting as a lean-to. I used him for support, resting my head on his shoulder for a while, closing my eyes to stop my head from spinning. “Thank you. I just.. had to sit up.”
“It's okay,» he said mildly, giving my temple a kiss and caressing my upper arm. For a while he just sat there, letting me find my balance and get used to sitting upright again. «Does it hurt?»
«Like a bitch.» He gave a little snort of laughter, but he quickly turned serious again. As gently as possible he wrapped his arms around me and buried his face into the nook of my neck, nuzzling my skin, breathing deeply. I wrapped my one working arm around him as best I could, clinging to him, dearly having missed being close to him. To my surprise, a few muffled sobs escaped Richard, and his shoulders shook a little.
“I've never been so.. so scared in my... I thought you were... were slipping away from me...” he sobbed incoherently. I could feel the wetness of his tears on my skin, the heat radiating from him just from being upset. Now it was my turn to hush and comfort.
“Ssh, Richard, it's all right, I'm here, I'm alive...” I crooned into his ear, his face still buried against my neck. “I have a few bumps and bruises, and a few fractures, but I'm still here, love. Okay?” I placed my hand on the back of his neck, squeezing it a little to try and snap him out of what seemed to be turning into a little panic attack. He looked up at me, all the terror and ache he had felt over the past six days were visible in those eyes. I cupped his face in my hand and leaned towards him, my forehead touching his. Then I gave him a reassuring, but crooked smile, looking into his eyes all the while. “I'm here, love. I'm alive and I'm gonna be just fine,” I repeated. Richard closed his eyes for a moment, as if he was grateful. When he opened them again he leaned closer and placed his lips lightly and gracefully against mine, but mostly on the side of my face that wasn't bruised and swollen. While he kissed me he ran his fingertip lightly over the back of my neck, just beneath my hair, and it caused goosebumps to spread all over. For a moment all the aches and pains in my body completely disappeared. Pulling away he was still smiling at me, and some of the ache I had seen in them earlier seemed to have lessened. What I wanted to do most of all was ask what that kiss just now had meant, but I doubted that even he knew the answer to that. It could wait a little until we were both a bit more balanced. All I cared about right now was that I wasn't alone, I had Richard here and that was the only thing that matters.
“Ron? What were you doing in London?”
“Hm? Oh, I was on my way to a job interview...” I explained, having to think for a moment to remember my purpose in the city.
“Job interview?”
“Yeah. Intensive care unit. I guess I blew that job opportunity, though,” I mumbled sarcastically. “Okay, that's enough sitting for now,” I announced weakly, and Richard helped me to lie backward in a somewhat controlled fashion. The pain had just become too much again. A nurse sorted me out with more painkillers. Together we came up with a plan of maybe getting me out of bed later in the day and possibly even get me into a shower, or at least get me cleaned up a little when the meds had kicked in. Richard offered to go over to my house and get me some clothes and things. I hated the thought of him being gone for nearly three hours, and to send him on such a long drive just to get some clothes, but he insisted.

When Richard returned later that afternoon I felt like a new person. Sitting up in bed, supported by a mountain of pillows, I smiled widely at him as he walked through the door. Depositing a bag full of my clothes he returned the smile.
“Look at you!” He exclaimed.
“I've been out of bed!” I announced proudly. “With the help of two people, though. And a walker. But I've had a shower! And I no longer pee in a bag! And now I'm absolutely exhausted.”
“But you look all the better for it! I'm proud of you,” he said, giving the top of my head a kiss.
“For standing on my feet and having a wash?” I snorted.
“A few days ago I was worried you'd never open your eyes again! Standing on your feet is massive!” He argued. “Anyway. I remember what hospital food can be like so I bought crisps, curly wurlies, toffee popcorn...”
“Oh, so now that I've survived being hit by a bus you're going to kill me with diabetes and arterial plaque?”
“Arterial.. what?”
“Oh shut up and give me the curly wurly.” The rest of the afternoon passed with me dozing on and off. My trip out of bed and into the shower, even though heavily assisted by a nurse, had really taken it out of me. The exhaustion and movement increased my pain, and between the effort and the constant supply of painkillers I had a hard time keeping awake for long. I also knew that I was tired from the head trauma, it hurt constantly, and whenever I was awake and tried to talk to Richard I lost focus very quickly. Just being awake exhausted me. Even so, in between my naps, Richard and I had short, hushed conversations, just talking about everything and nothing. When I awoke again it was dark outside, the room was dimly lit by just an overhead lamp above Richard's bed. I knew I'd slept through the last medicine round for the night, a little medicine cup is on my nightstand next to a glass of water. My heart was beating hard in my chest, I felt restless and anxious. Not as bad as the previous night, but the feeling of dread was definitely back. Propping myself clumsily on one elbow I grabbed the medicine cup, downed the pills and tried to have a sip of water, not quite managing without spilling a little.
“You know, you could ask for help,” said a quiet, somewhat resigned voice next to me. Richard was sitting on the edge of his bed in his pyjama bottoms and a t-shirt, studying me.
“I thought you were asleep...” I mumbled.
“Rubbish, you saw me reading,” he smirked back. “Did you dream again? You were tossing and turning.” He got up from his bed and walked over to mine, sitting down on the edge of it.
“No, I don't dream... At least I can't remember it. I just wake up all.. anxious,” I shrugged, momentarily forgetting that I had only one working shoulder. He ran a hand over my hair consolingly.
“It's just... your brain trying to process everything that's happened, I'm sure it'll get better.” I made a non-committal jerk of the head, knowing he was most likely right.
“Could you... stay here with me?” I asked timidly. He eyed the width of the bed a little skeptically.
“Well, we managed to share that camper cot in Uganda so this shouldn't be a problem,” he said bracingly, and I chuckled. He was right, that camper cot was narrower than this bed. Hampered by my injuries I inched over as best I could to give him room. He gently slid his arm under my neck and tried his best to maneuver himself into place without hurting me. I came to rest along his side, my leg over his and my head on his chest. My injured shoulder and painful arm was supported by a thin pillow lying across his stomach. When we were both somewhat comfortable Richard pulled up the bed rail on his side, obviously having been in a hospital bed before.
“You know, if both of these bed-rails weren't up I'm pretty sure we'd just fall out on either side of the bed,” he pointed out with a smirk.
“I know, they're quite handy right now,” I admitted.
“They are,” he agreed, then kissed my temple. “Ron, I'm sorry, but.. have to leave for a while tomorrow. It's a prep-meeting up at BBC, preparing for the studio shoot, quick manuscript read-through and so on-”
“I know, I know,” I said mildly, being perfectly aware of what prep meetings were.
“It'll just be a couple of hours, the BBC isn't far from here,” he reassured me.
“I know,” I smiled at him. “I'll be fine, I suspect the nurses here will keep me occupied by chasing me out of bed and making me do things. You go do your job.” He sighed, displaying his reluctance to leave me.
“Are you okay? Not uncomfortable?”
“No, I'm fine,” I assured him. “I feel... safe.”
“Good. Now get some sleep,” he whispered and kissed my temple again. I rested my head against his shoulder, feeling his arm wrapped around my back, his hand caressing the small of my back. I needed this, I need the closeness and the warmth. To feel like I was alive, and feel the warmth of another human being, to hear his breaths and his heart beating.

While it was still dark outside I was gently woken by a nurse's gentle touch on my hand. I knew before even opening my eyes that it was the 6 round and that she was just here to measure my blood pressure, pulse, and temperature. The reading lamp over Richard's bed was still on, enabling me to see her through the semi-darkness of the room. I wriggled my good hand free and pull up my hospital shirt, offering my upper arm up to her. She quietly and habitually attached the cuff to my arm and let the machine do its job while she measured the temperature in my ear. Richard didn't stir at any of this. When the machine has confirmed that my blood pressure was relatively normal, the nurse went on to manually count my pulse. She looked at me while feeling my wrist, and I gave her an apologetic shrug.
“Sorry...” I breathed, gesturing vaguely to the fact that I had a man in my hospital bed. But she just waved her hand at me once.
“No need. That looks quite nice, actually,” she whispered back, smiled knowingly, winked once, and was out the door. I couldn't help but smile at having this nurse's blessing to have him in my bed.

The following day turned out the way I predicted it to, the nurses kept me busy by prodding me with needles, stuffing me with pills, chasing me out of the bed, and forcing me to do things like put on actual clothes. Richard was practically chased out the door by me and the nurses by noon, headed for the BBC. He kept me, and I suspected himself, entertained by sending me texts regularly, sending me into laughing fits that made everything hurt.
'You haven't gone off and died while I've been away, have you?'
'Too soon, Hamster. Too soon...'
'Story of my life, sadly. They all seem to say that :/ '
'No wonder you got divorced.'
'Oh go get hit by a bus – Oh, wait, you did that already!"
Between pain medications, the nurses' regime, and all the laughing I fell asleep around dinner, despite my best efforts to stay awake. It seemed like the harder I tried to stay awake, the more difficult it got. The nurses urged me to rest, to sleep whenever I felt like it, but without Richard here it somehow seemed scary, as if I was afraid I wouldn't wake up again. I didn't sleep heavily, because every time someone opened the door to my room I jerked awake. The third time it happened a familiar face peered through the door, a mischievous look on his child-like face.
“Psst. You alive?”
“No, I'm dead, because it's the only way I can get some rest around here,” I grumbled, but smiled at him all the same. He broke out into a wide, almost insanely happy grin, as if he still couldn't quite believe that I was alive. Straightening up he opened the door a little wider, but not completely.
“There's someone here to see you. I promise they won't stay long, and I've told them to behave and be quiet. They just... refused to go home, they followed me here, and there was literally nothing I could do about it. They threatened me, and they're big blokes, well, bigger than me, anyway, and one of them has really ugly teeth and lots of guns,” he jabbered, his lies quickly escalating.
“Oh shut up, Hammond!” Jeremy swiftly, but easily shoved Richard aside and strode into the room, his long knock-kneed legs making it to my bedside in about two steps. To my bewilderment, he was carrying a huge bouquet of flowers and some ludicrous, gaudy teddy bear that has a t-shirt saying 'it's a boy!' on it. Trailing in his wake was James, also carrying flowers, but with a rather more somber demeanor as if he was visiting my deathbed. Bringing up the rear was Richard, eyeing the other two as if he half expected them to start a brawl and get themselves thrown out of the hospital at any moment. Reaching out to my right I scrabbled for the remote control of the bed and began raising the back-rest upwards so I could sit. The bed seemed to take forever to move, however, and there was an awkward silence as they all waited for me to become upright.
“Be with you in a moment, talk amongst yourselves,” I muttered, and Jeremy instantly greeted this with his raspy laugh, although not as loudly as he usually did. James looked a little put-upon, he didn't quite know what to do with his hands nor his eyes. Jeremy observantly spotted the same and decided to bring him into the conversation.
“James, you're a good mechanic, can't you put a turbo-charger on that bed?” He suggested, causing both James and Richard to giggle. By the time they'd all finished laughing, I was finally upright.
“There! Finally! Hello, what a nice surprise!” I tried to smile at them, painfully aware that only half my face was working at the moment, the rest was too swollen and bruised. Amazingly James was the first one to approach me, bending low and giving me a gentle hug.
“I don't know what to say, really,” he mumbled awkwardly.
“'Hello' works just fine, James.” I gave him a reassuring smile.
“Supposedly flowers are what you're supposed to bring to these sort of things so... here you are.” He half-heartedly waved the flowers at me, then deposited them on my nightstand.
“Aw, thank you, dear,” I said gratefully, genuinely pleased. Maybe not so much at the actual flowers, but at seeing him, and Jeremy. Knowing that they took the time to come visit me, being aware of how busy they are. James took a step back, giving Jeremy room. He too folded himself almost in half just to be able to give me a quick hug. He plonked the flowers next to James' bouquet and handed me the teddy bear.
“They didn't have any that said 'it's a bus!' on it, but I thought that one was pretty close,” he declared, looking genuinely proud of himself. I looked at the stupid teddy and immediately started laughing. Richard buried his face in his hands, groaning with shame.
“I see what you did there, not bad!” I chuckled. “Do sit down, there are chairs enough for all of you.” Richard quickly sat down in his usual armchair by my bedside, and I was a little surprised when he even wrapped his hand around mine, automatically interlacing our fingers. Jeremy and James both pulled up a chair, and used as he was of being in charge, Jeremy began to speak.
“Listen, I realize you might not be up for visitors, but we were in the neighborhood, so to speak, and Hammond said you were doing really good...” He babbled like a schoolboy trying to talk his way out of a good scolding.
“Jeremy, it's all right. I'm really very grateful to see you guys, and I mean that.” I tried to smile again, but winced as pain shoots through my head. “You'll have to excuse me, but I'm not going to smile at any of you anymore today, it's just not fucking worth the pain.”
“Honestly, you don't look as bad as I thought,” James piped up. “Hammond tried to prepare us, telling us how incredibly disgusting and horrible you looked, but for someone who took a bus to the face it's not all bad.”
“I have not called her disgusting and horrible looking!” Richard argued hotly, the hamster firing up. “I just said she was a bit.. banged up...”
“I think your exact words were 'think Two-Face from Batman',” Jeremy said with an evil chuckle.
“Oh do shut up, Two-Face was scarred by acid. I got hit by a bus, much more hardcore,” I retorted, and they all hummed their agreement.
“I couldn't believe it when Hammond called, saying you were in that accident,” James mumbled. “I saw it on the news, I remember thinking that no one could've survived that.”
“It was on the news?” I frowned.
“Yeah, you managed to shut down downtown London traffic for a while there,” Jeremy informed me. “Honestly I am amazed you survived as well, considering how that cab looked.”
“You saw the car?” I raised the only working eyebrow at Jezza.
“Yeah, there was a picture of it in some paper or other. And on the news on telly. I gather you haven't seen it?”
“Um, no, I didn't even realize I made the news,” I admitted.
“Well, if taking on a London bus and winning doesn't get you a spot on the evening news, what would?” Richard asked.
“Would you want to see it? I'm sure I can try to find it...” Jeremy asked in a delicate sort of way, fully aware that this might be a touchy subject for me.
“Honestly I don't know. Can't you find it and.. send it to Richard or something? Maybe I'll gather up the strength to see it someday.”
“Sure,” Jeremy nodded, pulling the phone out of his jacket pocket and beginning to search. I glanced quickly over at Richard, somehow needing to look at him for a little support, and he squeezed my hand reassuringly. From what James says next I suspect that this didn't pass him by.
“You two are a pretty good match, you both seem to have a penchant for surviving the impossible,” he remarked dryly. He tried to look neutral, but there is a trace of a spark in his eyes. A slightly awkward, but heavy silence followed this until Jeremy cleared his throat and starts asking about my actual injuries. They only stayed for another half hour before Richard gently, but firmly shooed them out the door. Before Richard even had time to sit back down, however, a nurse came bustling in, determined to shoo me out of bed and chase me around the room for the last time today. Stubbornly I fought my own way onto the edge of the bed. Richard had a hard time sitting still, he was aching to help me out, but I wouldn't let him. It felt humiliating to need a walker to be able to move around, but I still felt unsteady and know that blood pressure drops could hit me at any time. I am meant to rest my lower arms on this thing and hold handles, I could lean my weight on it and use it for balance when I moved around. Crutches won't be an option for later, not with this bad shoulder and clavicle, so I knew I would have to let go of the walker tomorrow if I was ever going to be let out of here. The nurse watched me with eagle eyes as I hobbled around the room, trailing after me with arms outstretched, looking for any sign that I might be going faint. After a few laps, she herded me into the bathroom so I could get ready for bed. She followed me back to the bed and helped me sit down on the edge of it.
“I think you can manage the rest on your own now. But call me if you need help,” she smiled kindly, then exited the room. Richard bounded out of his chair to offer help, but I kept him at an arm's distance, determined to manage to get back into bed on my own as well.
“God, I never knew not helping could be this exhausting,” he complained with a sigh, resting back in his chair when he saw that I'm comfortably back in bed.
“Have you talked to Kristin today? How are the dogs?”
“Oh they're fine, having a blast,” he waved carelessly. “They got into the chicken coop yesterday.”
“Oh noooo, those poor hens! Don't say they killed any?”
“No, they tried roughing one up, but then the err... rooster came and scared the hell out of them, they ran away with their tails between their legs.”
“Good.” I drew a sigh of relief.
“She's mostly worried about you, you know how she is, fussing..”
“Fussing,” I said at the same time as Richard. “Tell her I'll be okay.” My words were already slurring a little, I knew I was dropping off to sleep. I could vaguely hear Richard as he rummaged through his own overnight bag, trying to be quiet, then he shuffled off to the bathroom. When I awoke again it was with the same jerk as before, and when I opened my eyes Richard was already by my bedside in his pajamas, studying me. “Was I tossing and turning again?”
“A little,” he whispered, smiling mildly as he ran a hand over my forehead, brushing away some hairs. “Move over.” In a cumbersome way, I managed to inch over, giving him room, and having learned from last night we managed to maneuver ourselves into place a lot easier. He sighed as he wrapped his arm around me, holding me as gently as he could not to inflict any pain, and for a moment he buried his face in my hair. “I hope it was okay I brought the guys here..”
“Of course it was, Richard. It was very touching that they came, I know they're all busy. And I know you're busy, too, and for some reason you're here all the time.”
“They offered to come, they wanted to see you, they were worried about you. And they know I care a lot about you, and that if you went off and died or something would make me a bit upset. So they're glad you're all right.”
“It was very sweet of them. I love the teddy bear,” I giggled.
“God, Jeremy is such a blithering idiot,” Richard huffed.
“Nah, he's funny, he's just a big cuddly bear. He can seem both scary and a little dim, but he isn't.” There was a little silence in which I nearly had enough time to drop off to sleep again. Then Richard's voice pulled me back.
“Ron... I think I might have to leave in the morning. Studio recording day...” he began apologetically.
“Oh, of course you have to, it's your job,” I insisted, thoroughly ignoring how my heart was sinking in my chest. “It must be really boring sitting here anyway, all I do is sleep!”
“Yeah, I know it's my job, but...” he mumbled. “I wanna be here for you, too.”
“No 'buts'. You're not postponing a studio shoot because of me, that isn't happening. What was the point in going to that meeting today if you're not doing the shoot tomorrow?” I argued back, but a little drowsily.
“I know, I know!” He grumbled, not being able to come up with an argument that would stick.
“So go, do your job, be a good boy, be a funny man on telly, I like that bloke,” I murmured as I patted his chest, already half asleep again. I could just catch him whispering 'all right, I will' a little sulkily, I felt a kiss on my forehead, then I was out like a light.

Chapter Text

Richard left early and quietly the next morning. Still half-asleep I barely caught his whispered 'bye, go back to sleep' and his quick kiss on my forehead. With Richard gone I felt more anxious, I didn't feel like I ever fell properly back to sleep, and I didn't rest the same way I did when he was there. The anxiety along with the pain and the boredom made me restless, and I forced the nurses to help me out of bed for little walks across the floor several times that day. The little excursions were always followed by a wave of agony and exhaustion, but I refused to ask for more painkillers, knowing that the longer I needed them, the longer they would keep me in the hospital. I was just about to doze off, the pain after my last walk finally receding enough to let me relax a little when the sound of the door opening brought me back to reality. I was surprised when Richard walked in.
“Hello! James and Jezza says 'hello' and 'feel better soon'. Also, they wanted to ask you what was the point of being hit by a bus, they forgot to ask you about that yesterday apparently,” he said cheerfully.
“Richard... You're here?” I croaked, unable to hide my surprise.
“Yeees... Shouldn't I be?” He frowned.
“No, I thought you would've... gone home.”
“Why would I do that?” Richard looked nonplussed as he sat down on the edge of his hospital bed, depositing an overnight bag next to him.
“You said... you were leaving, and I thought you were leaving leaving. I thought that with a really long studio day and everything you would've wanted to go home...”
“When I said 'leaving' I didn't mean like that. Why would you think I'd want to go home?”
“Well... You must be sick of being cooped up in here with me, Richard, you've been here for what, over a week now!? I just sleep all the time anyway, it must be driving you mad?”
“No, I'm fine, I'm not sick of it,” he says flatly, almost childishly.
«Richard, I hate to... I don't want to be a bother, I've already done enough by getting myself into this. I... know I scared you a bit, and I'm sorry about that. And I really appreciate that you've been here for me, but...”
“Scared me a bit? That doesn't even begin to cover it, Ronja," he said, far louder than I had expected. "For five days I sat here, wondering if I was sitting here on your deathbed or not! I wasn't worried, I was fucking petrified!»
“Richard, I'll be fine,” I reassured him. “I just have a few broken bones, they'll heal soon enough. You don't have to be here with me, I hope you don't feel like you do? Like you're obligated or something? I mean, I'm not your responsibility, you shouldn't have to waste your time sitting here, you're not family, or my husband or...” Something, maybe his patience, seemed to snap in Richard.
“You once said I was the closest you have to any family, Ron! Those were your words, not mine. And I'm here, and even if I'm not family, I still worry about you as if you were!”
“Oh come on, Richard, you don't have to worry about me! You must have so many more interesting things to do than sitting here watching my bruises slowly turn from purple to yellow! You have work to do, lots of work I'm guessing, you have the recordings, and writing, and the dogs to take care of...”
“But... Who will care for you?” He challenged.
“I can take care of myself? And I have the nurses here to help me... I'll be just fine,” I said stubbornly. I didn't even know what I was doing, why I was saying these things, why I was so intent on getting him out of this hospital room.
“Oh for god's sake!” Richard barked, getting up from the bed in an act of frustration, rubbing his face tiredly. “Of course I know you can take care of yourself, that's all you bloody do, isn't it? You can deal with everything on your bloody own, can't you, but that doesn't mean you don't always have to! Would it be so awful to accept some fucking help once in a while? I mean... You were there for me when I was in the hospital? When I busted my nose? Why can't I be here for you?»
“Yes, but... that was my job, I was at work,» I argued.
«So is that the only reason why you were there?» He asked coldly.
“No, of course not, I didn't mean it like that...” I stammered incoherently. The anger that suddenly flared up in him stuns me, making me unsure.
“Then what?” He snarled, almost shaking now, throwing his arms out. I had seen Richard angry more times than I can count, but that had mostly been him pretending, acting his character as the short, angry bloke. This was very different. “You know what? Forget it. If you are this determined to manage everything on your own then fine, what's the point in me being here? I'll just go away and leave you to it. I'm just sorry I had to sit here for five days terrified that you were dying from me, only to find out you don' 't give a shit whether I'm here or not.” Turning on his heels he grabbed his overnight bag and stomped out of the room. The door slid slowly shut behind him as I listened to his footsteps disappearing down the hall. Staring at the now-closed door I blinked slowly, hardly even aware that I was crying. The worst part is that I didn't really know why I had said the things I did. I needed him to be here, but I was terrified of becoming too dependent, of expecting anything from him. I was so scared of finding one day that I really need him, only to discover he wasn't there. He said that I didn't have any family – is that why he had insisted on being here? Did he feel obliged to be here, because he knew that I didn't have anyone else? I appreciated his concern, but I didn't want him to be here just because he felt like he should, because he knew he's the only one I have. I'd never had this before, someone who wanted to be there for me, I wasn't used to it and had no idea how to handle it. I hadn't expected him to take it like this, though. I hadn't just frustrated and disappointed him. The thought that I had actually hurt him, on top of everything else I had caused, was too much. After everything he had done for me in the past week, what did I do? I practically chased him out of the room, adamant that I could manage on my own. What a fucking awful human being I was. Gasping for air I let the sobs take over. The emotional pain of the regret and guilt I was feeling blended with my physical pain, for a while I couldn't even distinguish one from the other. Eventually, the tears stopped, but they were replaced by a desperate need for escape. The accident, everything that hurt and felt wrong with my body, and now this, it was all too much. Like an angel sent from some twisted, backward heaven, a nurse appeared, obviously on her 9 pm medicine round. She handed me a plastic cup of painkillers, and for once I accepted more than eagerly, hoping that they might knock me out. As I handed the now empty medicine cup back to her she looked pointedly around the room.
“Did your Richard leave? I thought I saw him just now..” Her wording, accidental as it probably was, sent another stab of pain through me.
“Yeah, I sent him home,” I shrugged, trying to be light-hearted about it. “I didn't see the point in him staying here just to... watch me sleep...” As I tried to finish my sentence, my voice cracked completely and my eyes burst with tears again.
“Didn't see the point?” She frowned. She studied me a little before pulling up a chair and sitting down by my bedside. “You know, I was on shift the day they brought you in. I talked for a long while with the nurse who received you when you arrived at the A&E. You were so banged up. She told me you were bleeding from your nostril and even the corner of your eye... You were conscious, but you were making absolutely no sense, between the concussion and the shock you were completely incoherent. They had asked you a hundred questions; could you remember your name, what had happened, did you know where you were, what year it was, what day? Eventually, and for some reason she couldn't really understand, she asked you if there was anyone they should call. You said Richard's name a few times before you lost consciousness again. She couldn't answer why she had asked you that, because if you couldn't answer any of the other questions, why would you answer that? But you did.” She gave me a pointed look.“And according to her, he turned up here fifteen minutes after she called him. And I have watched that man sitting by your bedside for five whole days, hardly taking his eyes off you, being as worried as anyone I've ever seen in here watching over a loved one. Now do you see the point of him staying here?” All I could do is nod slowly, feeling even more ashamed now, my crying rendering me unable to speak. With a sigh, she patted my shoulder gently. “Listen, I'll go get you something to calm you down a little. You're too shaken up right now, this isn't good for you and you need some sleep.”

Three more days was all I could take of the hospital, after that I literally argued my way out of there. I stubbornly stopped using the walker, gritted my teeth, and refused to take more pain medication than absolutely necessary. I blatantly lied to the doctors, insisting that I had someone to help take care of me when I went home. The hospital was making me restless and depressed, I couldn't relax, all I wanted to do was go home. Ironically I had to take a taxi home, and almost immediately I launched into a minor anxiety attack. It hadn't even crossed my mind that being in a car again would now have become something traumatic to me, but it had.
I hadn't heard anything from Richard, and I hadn't tried to contact him, mostly because I wouldn't know what to say if I did. I was too ashamed, and I wouldn't even know how to begin to apologize. As soon as I got home I called Kristin, telling her that I'd been discharged from the hospital but asked her if she could keep Sprocket around for a while longer, a week or so at least, as I knew that I wouldn't be able to take him for walks for a while. Kind and helpful as ever she said that it wasn't a problem, and reassured me that Sprocket was having a lot of fun with his son Pirate. Having dealt with Sprocket, I only had to find a way to deal with myself. Which was harder than I thought. I tried to do the exercises the physical therapist had taught me, and as a result, I chewed twice as many painkillers as I should. In desperation, I called Tess that evening and asked her if she could do some grocery shopping for me. I hadn't been home for over a week and a half, the bread was moldy and the milk had gone off, and going to the shops on my own was out of the question. Seeing the state of me she nearly refused to leave, but I somehow managed to thank her, pay her for the groceries, and chased her out of the house. Going to the bathroom or grabbing a drink took four times longer than normal, and made me exhausted. But it was better than the hospital, at least I was in my own bed, I had my telly and endless things on Netflix to keep me occupied.

The day after I came home I heard a distant knock. I reckoned it has to be Tess who has come by to check on me, as a nurse I knew she would feel compelled to do that.
«Yeah? Come in!» I shouted loudly. I waited for a voice to recognize, but all I heard was the sound of the front door opening, then footsteps in the hallway. “Hello?” To my surprise Richard appeared in the doorway, his eyes searching around the living room. Coming to a halt in the doorway he glared at me angrily, making it evident that he hadn't come here on a hospitality visit.
«They discharged you?!» He asked disbelievingly, his voice loud and angry. No hello, no how are you. «Don't tell me that was their idea?»
«No, I...» I began hesitantly. His sudden appearance and accusatory, angry demeanor stuns me. With a few winces, I managed to sit up in bed. «I.. convinced them to discharge me, I wanted to go home... To my own bed...» I squirmed under his angry gaze.
“And they sent you home? In the state you're in? Did they ask if you had someone to help you out? Offer home-based care or something?”
“Yeah... And no, they didn't,” I lied, and instantly felt awful for it.
«And how did you think were you going to manage on your own when you got home?” He challenged. I shrugged and shook my head non-committally. Then he eyed the box of pizza I had taken delivery of earlier. “... So that was your plan? To sit here all alone and live off take-out?» There was snide sarcasm in his voice. I didn't answer, I just stared at the pattern on my bedlinen, feeling like a scolded child. «Jesus. You've told me you feel lonely sometimes, but I'm starting to see why you might be! You're so obsessed with being independent, managing everything on your own, being strong, and never needing help. You push people away, Ronja, your friends, everyone around you. People want to take care of the people they love, people need to feel like they're needed, you know? They need to not feel useless. But I can't do that with you, because you don't need anyone, do you? So what else can I do than just leave?» Finished with his tirade he looked hard at me for a while. I said nothing, just fiddled some more with my bedlinen, not knowing what to say, unable to muster up a defense. Mainly because I knew he was absolutely right. Then he suddenly sighed, turned around, and headed for the door, doing exactly what he said he would. Leaving me.
«Richard, wait..» I began. My voice cracked, I was already crying. Richard paused for a second, his back still towards me. Then he shook his head, in some final, defiant sort of way, like he had really given up on me, then he disappeared. Frozen to the spot, in a bad dejavu from the hospital, I listened as his footsteps walked away from me and the door slammed shut behind him. My first instinct was to chase after him, stop him, hold him back, force him to listen. When I realized that I wam probably physically unable to chase after him, no matter how much I wanted to, I just fell back onto the bed, caving into my emotions. I wanted him to understand, but what exactly?

Chapter Text

My whole body trembled as I knocked on the door. A week had passed since Richard came by my house, and quickly marched out again. And for all the time I'd had to think between then and now, I realized that I still had no idea exactly what I was going to say to him, even now that I was literally at his doorstep. Predictably my knocking launched a cacophony of barking inside the house. After what seemed an eternity, the door swung open, and as Richard's eyes landed on me they widened with surprise and his mouth fell open. He looked me up and down, then at my car parked out front, then back at me. I could see the thought process going on in his head, he's wondering if I really drove here, and how I managed to. The dogs were milling around our feet, fighting for space to greet me, but it was as if they knew that something was very different, that I was more fragile than I normally was, because none of them pounced on me like they had a habit of doing. Still not having said a word he took a step backward, opening the door wider, letting me in. The fact that he didn't look remotely angry encouraged me to actually step inside. I closed the door behind me, but then it was as if I lost all momentum, I couldn't move, I couldn't go any further until I had said something, broken the ice.
«You're wrong,» I said, with as much confidence as I could muster. «You were wrong when you said that I don't need anybody. I do need someone...” I hesitated for a second, having to take a run to actually say it. “I need you, okay! And I did care that you were with me at the hospital, it meant everything to me! I … miss you.. and I care about you... so fucking much,” I had started out talking with a loud, clear voice, but by the end of my last sentence, I had unraveled to the point where my crying was beyond control. I sniffed, trying to compose myself, but I knew I was losing, so I shut my eyes as hard as I could and just let the sobs take over. I hadn't said half the things I needed to, I hadn't even started, but for now, I couldn't say another word. But I had also said more to him than I ever had before. That I needed him. That I cared about him. In the heart-wrenching silence that followed I wonder if anything I had said had gotten through to him, if he even cared. With my eyes still closed I could feel arms closing around me, how Richard brought me closer to his own body, and an immense sense of relief washed over me. I let out something between a sob and a sigh of relief as I clapped my arms around him, clinging to him just to keep myself upright.
"I need you too, Ronja,» he mumbled into my hair. He hugged me tightly, so much that it actually hurt my broken ribs a little, but I didn't dream of pulling away from him; his embrace was all I wanted, I felt like I had longed for it my entire life. I sobbed loudly as I kept clinging to him.
“I'm sorry, I've been so... stupid...” I sobbed, my words almost inaudible.
«It's okay, Ron... We're here now, you and me. You're all right...» After a long while, he pulled away and looked at me with those kind and mild eyes that I had been missing so dearly. «Come on, let's go sit down,» he said, realizing that my crying wasn't going to subside any time soon. Too caught up in Richard I nearly stumbled over my own feet. «Whoa, steady on!» He caught me, his arms closing around me again as he helped me regain balance and pulled me closer. I buried my face against his shoulder and neck for a moment, desperate for more closeness. «It's all right, love, I got you,» he said softly into my hair. With me practically hanging around his neck he shuffled towards the living room. Once on the sofa, he held me close, patiently letting me cling to him as I cried. When my sobs had died down enough for me to maybe be able to talk, he cleared his throat.
«Ron...? How did you even manage to drive here?»
«Slowly...» I sniffed. «Thank fuck I have an automatic.» Richard chuckled quietly.
«I'm impressed, considering you could barely stand on your own two feet a couple of weeks ago. And very surprised to see you. Entirely in a good way, but surprised,» he added, pulling away for a second to look down at me. We were still holding each other, I just seemed unable to let go of him.
«I'm sorry for just... showing up on your doorstep like this, but... I wasn't sure you'd talk to me if I tried to call, so--»
«Ron, don't apologize, you don't have to-» he began.
«No, Richard, I do. And I need to say a few things.» Staring into blank space I fiddled absent-mindedly with a button on his shirt. “I should have come here earlier. I even thought about running after you when you came by my place, but I... well, I physically couldn't. Then I got so... upset and stupid and ashamed of myself and just so.. fucking proud. But eventually, I realized that.. none of that really mattered, my pride wasn't worth shit because all it gave me was loneliness. I might pretend to be independent and that I can deal with everything on my own, but the bottom line is that I am just lonely and I miss you so fucking much. You were right when you said that I push people away, acting like I don't need anyone. I've done that to people, and I have done that to you, over and over. I'm the stupidest bloody person on earth for pushing you away. But being able to need anyone is a luxury I have nearly never had, the people I needed were never there for me. And maybe I act this way because some part of me believes that I can't need anyone because... Because no one would ever need me. I mean, my family, my own mum didn't even need me, so why should anyone else? But that's on me, that's my problem, none of that is your fault. You're right, people probably have tried to be there for me, and I know you have tried to, so much, I've just... forgotten how to recognize that, and thought that I had to manage everything on my own, forever. Does any of this make any sense?» In the silence that followed my long monologue Richard gave me a little squeeze but said nothing as he gathered his thoughts.
“Yeah, I think I get what you're saying,” he began hesitantly. “I'm... I'm sorry I got so angry with you, and for leaving you in the state you were in, I hated myself for doing that... But you can be so incredibly frustrating sometimes! And I didn't know what to do, because... When I met you, I was so broken, I didn't even know how much until I met you. And you picked up the pieces and somehow put me back together again, I never could have done that without you. And ever since I met you, you've become the most important thing in my life. But when you need someone like that, and you can't figure out if the other person needs you the same way, that's... difficult. It's confusing, and it hurts. But I hoped that you needed me too, that you were just too...”
“..Stupid?” I supplied when Richard paused to try and find the right words.
“Too damn proud,” he continued pointedly, “or too stubborn to admit it. And I couldn't think of any other way to make you realize that than to just... do what I did. Just walk out. I really wish I hadn't done it that way, I could have done things so much differently, I know that now. I should have just... refused to let you push me away, I should have sat down and said what you told me that time when I really broke down; that 'you're not going through this alone, I'm not leaving because I know you need me'. But the thing is that I... wasn't sure, not one hundred percent. All I could do was hope that you needed me. My divorce left me with a lot of... insecurities, Ron. Lots of fears, I guess, and I was terrified that there might some chance that you really didn't need me. And if that turned out to be the case... If you didn't need me the same way I need you...” his voice faded away as he didn't know how to finish the sentence. His honesty surprised me, despite how honest I had just been with him. All I wanted to do was to sway his insecurities and reassure him, take away his fears. He had never talked this much about how he felt about me before, about us, the relationship between us, it was like a big bubble had finally burst, and now everything was pouring out of him. That was always part of the problem; he never talked about it, and I could never figure out what was going on in his head, or his heart. If I had only known that all I had to say to get him to talk, was how much I needed him, I would've said that months ago. But I hadn't thought it was that.. simple. Or maybe I was just too afraid of being rejected. It hadn't really occurred to me that he was scared, that he had these insecurities, because insecure wasn't what you associated with Richard. He was energetic, full of life, funny, impulsive, a little tetchy, and mostly very kind, but always confident. I had let my own insecurities color my thoughts about him, thinking that he either didn't have any feelings for me or, at best, that he didn't know what he was feeling.
«You know... When I was brought into the hospital I was barely conscious, the nurses kept asking me questions and all I answered was incoherent gibberish. But when they asked if there was anyone they should contact, I said your name. I didn't even know who or where I was, but even then a part of me knew... Knew that I needed you. Instead of shutting you out, I should have shown you how grateful I was that you were there for me because I was. And I should have just admitted that I wanted you there because I really did.”
“Yes, you should have,» he said, without a trace of anger or annoyance in his voice.
«I am now...?» I straightened up, and pulled away from him a little, but only far enough to be able to look into his eyes.
«Good,» he said, a small smile slowly spreading across his lips. Looking at him it was as if my heart exploded, heat spreading outwards, making my entire body glow. Everything inside me was screaming that I should kiss him, just grab him and kiss the hell out of him, and for a fleeting moment, I wondered if he was thinking the same thing as his eyes flit down to my lips. In the space of fifteen minutes, we had poured our hearts out to each other, apologized, and finally told each other what the other needed to hear. Well, some of it, anyway. And now it was as if some crippling shyness had suddenly come over both of us. A jab of pain through my ribs broke through the slightly awkward silence and I couldn't help but pull a pained face. My body was protesting everything; to sitting upright for hours, to driving here, to not feeding it more painkillers. «You all right?» Richard hurried to ask, running his hand over my back a few times.
«Yeah, I'm just... Pain meds are wearing off, and my body prefers to not be sitting upright for hours on end,» I sighed.
«Did you-- I mean, do you have to go home tonight?» He asked a little hesitantly.
«I was kind of hoping that I wouldn't have to...» I muttered, biting my lip shyly at him.
«No, of course you don't have to! Maybe you should go have a lie-down?» he suggested, hand caressing my back.
«That sounds like a good idea, frankly,» I admitted, the thought of a soft bed to lie down in seemed incredibly tempting. I'm exhausted, physically from having driven so far with mostly the wrong foot, and emotionally from crying and from having poured my heart out to Richard.
«Did you bring anything, like a bag or...?»
«Yeah, it's in the car. In case you didn't slam the door in my face.” I gave him a crooked smile.
«Okay, I'll go get it, I'll take the dogs out for a wee, too.» He almost leapt out of his seat, and I looked at him enviously.
«I really miss the days when getting out of the sofa was that easy,” I grumbled.

“Aw, I'm sorry....” He said, his voice full of sweetness and empathy as he offered me a hand, helping me up, and for a fleeting moment I got a preview of how it felt to be 90 years old. I hobbled stiffly after him and the pack of dogs into the hallway. Stopping by the foot of the stairs I handed him my car keys. «I might not make it to the top before you get back inside,» I warned, looking up the stairs as if it was mount Everest.
«Do you want hel-» he began, but the warning look I gave him shut him up instantly. «What am I saying, of course you don't need help up the stairs, I am such an idiot,» he jabbered, back-pedaling. «Right, I'll be right back.» He turned and headed for the doorway, then stopped abruptly. «You do know you're sleeping in my bed tonight, yeah..?»
«Thanks for the clarification...» I smiled, then immediately looked down at my feet to try and hide the blush creeping up my neck. I hated and loved this situation, it was new and awkward and exciting, all at once. When he returned the smile I'm glad to see that it was a little shy. Without another word he wrenched the front door open and let the dogs out, disappearing after them. Reaching Richard's bedroom I pushed aside the duvet haphazardly and wallowed down on the bed, embarrassed to feel this exhausted just from sitting in a car and climbing a set of stairs. Lying still I could hear the sounds coming from outside, of the dogs barking, of Richard shouting something at them that they would just ignore anyway, then the car-door slamming and eventually, the front door closing. When Richard finally entered the room he was carrying my overnight bag and a few bottles of water. «Drugs,» I waved, gesturing after the bag, and Richard chuckled as he handed it to me. Having popped a few pills I laid back down as quickly as I could, closing my eyes and groaning a little. In the following silence, I could hear Richard shuffling across the room, then sense that he laid down on the other side of the bed. Opening my eyes I looked to my right and was met with his slightly concerned gaze.
«So, how's your... well, everything. I mean, I can see that you're in pain, but...» His voice faded.
«Yeah, I... try to wean myself off the pain medication, I want to stop taking them, but sometimes I just have to, like now. I don't like being dependent on them. My face is better, but my headache comes and goes. The ribs and clavicle are just... sore - I never knew sneezing could be such a painful event. And that pinky toe is actually really annoying, I thought that would be the least of my worries. But I don't mind the pain, it reminds me that I'm alive, and I know I'm lucky that I am.”
“Alive is good. Alive is fantastic, actually,» he nodded slowly, smiling at me, but I could see the traces of his concern behind it. Reaching out I took his hand in mine.
“Richard, I... Wanted to thank you. For being there when I woke up at the hospital. For being there for me. I can't imagine what it would have been like if I had woken up in that room and I'd been alone. I am so grateful for that, it really meant a lot to me. Having you there.... made me feel cared for and looked after, and I can't remember the last time I had that. It's been so long that having someone there was almost more scary than not having someone there.” Still holding his hand, I squeezed it a little to underline that I really meant it. Richard looked from our hands to me, piercing me with his eyes.
“Ron... you don't have to thank me for that. Like you said; I didn't really have a choice, I had to be there, I needed to.” Speaking softly he interlaced our fingers, like he always did, and brushed them softly against mine. The feeling sent a tingling through my arm that spreads to the rest of my body, my stomach swooped, and my heart was pounding, instantly making my headache worse. But I ignored it, I was not letting go. “I promised myself that if you woke up, if you were okay... I wouldn't hesitate to tell you how much I care about you. Life's too short, we both should know that better than anyone right now. And seeing you like that, broken and bruised... Gave me one hell of a reminder. So... I want you to know that I care about you so bloody much, Ronja. You are the most important person in my life.” He spoke sincerely and honestly, caressing my hand all the while, albeit a little shakily.
“I care just as much about you, Richard...” I reassured him, completely unable to stop myself from blushing. Admitting this, I began caressing his hand in return, our fingers playing with each other. For a moment we just looked at each other, smiling a little. Another blush crept up my neck again when I felt like I had stared soppily into his eyes for way too long. In an effort to stop staring at him, and stop my own blushing, I closed my eyes and sighed.
«You all right?» His voice was caring and mild.
«Mm... Pain-meds starting to kick in. And, just getting here was a little... tiring,» I admitted with another sigh. The exhaustion of the day's efforts had hit me with full force, and I felt like I was ready to sleep for a solid week.
«Well, you were in a coma a couple of weeks ago, so I guess you're entitled to feel a little under the weather,» he observed, and even if I couldn't see him I could hear his teasing smirk through his voice. «Should you even be driving in your state?»
«Hmm, probably not...» I admitted. «Not on these pain meds, at any rate. But I wasn't going to let that stop me.» I spoke slowly with my eyes closed, the pain medication and the comfort of Richard's company had made me relaxed, almost sleepy. But I was still holding his hand.
“Ronja, are you going to sleep like that?”
“Like what?” I mumbled.
“I mean... with all your clothes on. You know, normal people take off at least some of it and sleep under this fluffy thing called a duvet,» he pointed out dryly.
“Undressing means having to get up, which in turn means effort, and not to mention pain. So no thanks,” I muttered, hating the thought of having to move much again. His hand disappeared from mine, and the bed moved a little as he shifted on it, inching closer to me. I opened my eyes to watch him sitting next to me.
“Here...” he said quietly, his hands finding the zip of my cardigan and began pulling it downwards, gesturing that he wanted to help take my clothes off. “Okay?” He was asking permission, and I only managed to nod, words suddenly beyond me. I assisted him as best I could, pulling my “good” arm out of the sleeve first and sitting up enough to let him slide it under my back and off the arm on the side where my clavicle was broken. Underneath I had a tank top, and he winced in sympathy when he saw my exposed skin.“Bloody hell, Ron....” The parts of my chest, shoulder, and arm that were visible are like a colorful, abstract painting in blues, purples, and yellows. I pulled up my top a little to show him how the bruising continues down my ribs and side.
“It's getting better,” I said stoically, giving him a little smile. Deciding to leave my tank top on, he hooked his fingers inside the lining of my jogging bottoms, the only thing I could wear these days, and began pulling them down. I raised my bum off the mattress as best I could to help him. He was slow and gentle, there was nothing really sexual behind his actions, I knew he was just trying to help. Even so, my heart beat like a drum and I was holding my breath. I also noticed how Richard couldn't help letting his eyes quickly sweep over my body before gently pulling the duvet over me. “There.”
“Thanks...” I smiled, getting comfortable.
“I'll be right back. Do you need anything? Are you hungry, or...?»
«No, thanks. I'm fine,» I smiled. I seem unable to tear my eyes away from him as he got out of bed and headed out of the room. I knew he was heading downstairs to check on the dogs, then maybe to the bathroom. When he was out of view I closed my eyes again, and lying there I realized that I was still smiling stupidly to myself. There was a strange mixture of happiness and anticipation inside me. Just being back here, being with Richard again, had made me happy, along with all the things we had said to each other tonight. I impatiently waited for him to come back, I had more to say, and I was hoping he might have too. Despite my restlessness, I was almost nodding off when he returned, now wearing just his pajama bottoms and nothing else. The sight made my heart rate speed up, and my headache inevitably returned. He turned off a few lights, just leaving the lamps on the nightstand, then climbed into bed, pulling the duvet up to his chest.
«I thought you were asleep,» he said, looking at me.
«Almost,» I mumbled, giving him a tired smile. Struck with sudden, daft bravery I clumsily moved closer to him on the bed, a little handicapped by my injuries. Richard peered at me curiously, watching me inch closer to him. When I came right up to him he turned on his side, slipped an arm under my neck, and closed it around my back, drawing my body close to his. Nestled in his arms I wrapped my arm around him, caressing his back. Even though he had seemingly welcomed me into his arms quite happily, I couldn't help but ask. “Is this okay?”
“Very.” He smiled a little shyly and squeezed me gently. My heart was going a hundred miles a minute, beating so hard and fast I was worried he was going to hear it. Laying in Richard's arms, feeling his body close to mine again, was amazing. But things were different now, we both knew that. And even now, half-naked in a bed, our arms wrapped around each other, we blushed like teenagers when our eyes met.
«God, Ron, this is so ridiculously stupid!» He huffed, a little frustrated at our awkwardness. «I mean, considering everything we've said to each other tonight, we're still-» My body, seemingly disconnected from my brain and acting on its own accord, chose that moment to do what I had wanted to do for an eternity. Cupping his face in my hand I pressed my lips against his, cutting his sentence short. Then I froze, feeling like a bucket of ice-cold water had just been poured over me, and I pulled back hurriedly, stammering incoherent apologies. “God, I'm sorry, I probably shouldn't have-”
“Oh, for gods sake, shut up,” Richard huffed. His hand was on the side of my neck, drawing my face closer to his, then I felt his mouth against mine again. Our first few kisses were clumsy and frenzied, we were just head-butting our lips together as we both desperately tried to let out all of our pent-up emotions. My cheek and jaw were still a little sore from the crash, and the frantic kissing actually hurts a little.
«Ow, ow, face,» I winced, but I didn't pull away from him. He froze in his tracks.
«Sorry...» He mumbled, his mouth an inch from mine.
«Don't be, just.. be gentler,» I whispered. When his lips met mine again, his kiss was tender and soft, we opened our mouths to each other, and one lingering kiss just seamlessly flowed into the next one, and the next one. Richard let out a soft hum, as if the pleasure and relief of kissing me was too much. He buried a hand in my hair, the other was caressing my back, and I sensed that he was holding back from kissing me harder. Eventually, and reluctantly, his lips left mine, but he didn't pull away, his hand was still cupping my face and his forehead was touching mine.
“That felt... amazing,” he said, so quietly it was almost a whisper. We looked into each other's eyes, studying each other, seeing each other in a whole new way. Caressing my jawline with his thumb he smiled at me. There was such tenderness in his eyes, so much warmth, and love. He had looked at me this way many times before, I realized that now. But I didn't then, I hadn't been able to. I hadn't dared recognize it for what it was. I had never thought that the emotions I saw in him were meant for me. Looking at him I felt the familiar swoop of butterflies in my stomach and how my heart was thumping, but for the first time, I could let those feelings inside me show on my face and in my eyes. Richard noticed and his smile spread even wider. It was like he could finally see the last remnants of the wall I had built around myself crumble, how I was finally letting him in. I held my breath with anticipation as he leaned towards me, slowly, his eyes flicking between my eyes and my lips.
“Can I kiss you again?” He breathed.
“I might hurt you if you don't,” I breathed back, leaning in even closer.
“Only trying to be polite,” he chuckled before hurrying to close the final gap. He opened his mouth a little, taking my bottom lip in a soft, moist kiss that causes me to let out an involuntary wince. There was a little pain there, but the kiss drowned it out completely. We kissed slowly and deeply, only concerned with expressing our feelings for each other. I slid my hand over his shoulder and neck, then up into his hair, running my fingers through it, and he hummed in response. Neither of us seemed able to tear ourselves away from the other, but in the end, we had to just come up for air. We were both slightly out of breath when our eyes met again, a blush flitted across our faces and we smiled a little embarrassedly. But then Richard's face turned serious, he sighed deeply and ran his fingertips over the side of my face.
“God, Ron, I.. thought I had lost you, before I even had a chance to... In the hospital, I have never been so scared in my entire life, I thought you'd never wake up. And I was so relieved when you did, and so happy. And then I thought I lost you again. The only thing I wanted was to be closer to you, but instead, I thought I had just... fucked up royally and pushed you away forever.” His concern for me, and his regret about what had happened, were visible in his eyes.
“You haven't lost me, Richard, I'm right here,” I reassured him. Looking deeply into his eyes I caressed his cheek with my thumb. «I have been such a coward to not admit this to you before, but... You mean everything to me, you know.» Admitting to this I blushed once again and cursed privately. I wasn't used to saying things like these, not to anyone, and I was not used to talking this way with Richard. It was a sort of honesty and intimacy that I'd craved for so long, but which took some getting used to. We'd been best mates for ages, probably even more than that, but neither of us was used to this, to being this open with each other.
«I'm sorry, I just have to-» Richard began with a little shake of his head, but he didn't even have time to finish his apology before his lips were on mine again, kissing me. Giggling a little I happily kissed him back and wrapped my arm tighter around him, holding him closer.
«I can't believe I had to be hit by a bus to get you to do that,» I said when we finally pulled apart again. Richard chuckled and rolls his eyes.
«Well, I broke my face on an old Peugeot, and you never kissed me!» He argued back light-heartedly.
«Technically I did, actually, a little,» I argued back, smirking as I remember that little peck I had given him without thinking.
«Pff, that hardly qualified as a kiss,» he sulked.
«If you must know, I wanted to kiss you a lot more than that morning,» I admitted shyly, biting my lower lip. «I just wasn't sure that you wanted me to.»
«I did, I very, very much wanted you to. And I do now. Are we clear on that, finally?» He raised a characteristic eyebrow, and I couldn't help but giggle at him.
«Yes, we're clear,» I nodded. I buried my face against his shoulder and neck, nuzzling his skin. Breathing deeply I took in his smell, feeling his warmth. He kissed the top of my head, and his hand caressed my side lovingly.
«I've missed you so much, Ron... I've always missed you,» he mumbled into my hair.
«Always?»
«Yeah... I always missed you from the second I wasn't with you. Sometimes I even missed you when you were there because I... Couldn't be as close as I wanted to or tell you the things that were on my mind. And I know I was an idiot, I know why you got so mad at me. I was in your bed sleeping cuddled up with you and suddenly I was off dating or being stupid with my ex-wife and... I sent so many mixed messages I was an enigma machine. I was such a mess.» I didn't answer for a moment.
“Yeah... you kinda were,” I admitted, but not unkindly.
“But I was coming out of a divorce and I never imagined I'd find someone like you. I thought I was attracted to you just because I was lonely or needed comfort or something... Anyway, I'm sorry.”

“Stop saying you're sorry, you probably needed that time, Richard. To figure out yourself and your feelings.”

“Hmm.... maybe. But for whatever it's worth, I... After I met you, you were always on my mind.”
«Aaw» I crooned at him, and the fact that this made him blush made him even more adorable. Stunned for words I stared at him for a long time, caressing the back of his neck all the while.
«What are you thinking about?» He asked.
«How I must still be in a coma and this is all just a dream.»
«No, you're not in a coma, I swear. But, if you are, I promise you I will be there when you wake up and kiss you the first chance I get.»
«Kiss me now...?» I breathed. He gave a little nod before taking my lips in a soft, tender kiss that nearly took my breath away. With a deep sigh, I rested my head against his arm, nuzzling the skin on his neck. Exhaustion was taking over, and I knew I couldn't fight it for much longer. «I don't want to, Richard, but might fall asleep soon. I want to keep cuddling and kissing you now that I can,» I mumbled sulkily.
«Get some sleep, love. You need it. We can cuddle and kiss all day tomorrow?» He offered.
«Just tomorrow?» I pulled back and look up at him.
«And every day after that,» he assured me. Settling for that I closed my eyes, and he gave my forehead a kiss.

Chapter Text

Loud barking from downstairs woke me up. For a second the barking made me confused, wondering where I was, then last night came flooding back to me. I vaguely wondered what had set the dogs off like that. Opening my eyes I discovered that the bed was empty, but I didn't get long to ponder about where Richard had got to, because in the next moment I heard footsteps on the stairs, then a gentle knock on the door. The door opened and he popped his head inside.
«Pssst. Ron..?» He whispered, in case I was still asleep.
«Mm?» I mumbled, looking at him drowsily.
«There's someone here to see you.» For a heart-stopping moment, I was worried that an actual person was going to come in here and see me like this. But Richard just smiled and opened the door wider, letting Sprocket trot past him inside. The dog bounded towards the bed the instant he noticed me. His appearance explains what made the other dogs bark downstairs. Richard still had him on a leash, holding him back so he couldn't pounce me and hurt me unwittingly.
«Aaaw, hello boy, there you are!» I warbled, already fighting against happy tears. He could barely contain his excitement as he reached my bedside, his tail banging against the side of the bed, and he licked my hand and arm. But when I patted the bed next to me he clambered carefully into it as if he knew that he had to be gentle. Lying down next to me he sniffed and licks my face, but was nowhere near as boisterous as I would have expected him to be considering he hadn't seen me for weeks. I wrapped my good arm around him and buried my fingers and his face in his fur, letting myself cry a little. It was ridiculous how much you could love a dog, and how much you could miss them when you had to be away from them. «I'm sorry I've been away for a while, but I got a little hurt and couldn't take care of you properly...» I sobbed into his fur, talking to him as if he could understand every word I said to him. Seeing Sprocket had made me completely forget all about Richard, but I was reminded of his presence when I felt him climb into bed and inch up behind me. He wrapped an arm around me, and for a while I enjoyed just being wedged between him and my dog, feeling loved. «Thank you so very much for getting him...” I wrapped my hand gratefully around Richard's where it was resting on my stomach.
«You're welcome. I woke up a little early, and I... thought you might want to see him, I know how much you've missed him.»
“I did, I've missed him a lot. Almost as much as I missed you.” Holding his hand wasn't enough anymore so I stiffly inched around to face him, encumbered by my hurting ribs and shoulder. Untangling my hand from Sprocket's fur I caressed the side of his face.
“Good morning,” he smiled, his voice hushed. There was a tranquil happiness on his face that I hadn't seen before.
“Good morning,” I cooed back at him, my heart fluttering in my chest. “What time is it?”
“Eleven-ish. Did you sleep well?” He ran his fingertips over my temple and the side of my face, studying me.
“Mhm,” I nodded. “I didn't even notice when you got up.”
“I was very quiet, I wanted to let you sleep. And I wanted to surprise you.” He spoke in a quiet, tender sort of way, his voice full of love and caring. It was the way I had always wanted him to talk to me. I smiled at him and brushed my fingertips over the skin at the nape of his neck.
“How about you? Sleep okay?”
“Mmno. I'd forgotten how badly you snore,” he said, looking like he regretted ever letting me back into his life. Then he broke out into a goofy chuckle before turning a little more serious. “No, I slept well... Now that you were here with me.” Leaning in he brushed his nose against mine, then gave me a soft kiss which I returned happily. “I've always slept better with you next to me,” he breathed, his face only inches from mine, then I received another long, but gentle kiss. “By the way, Kristin wanted me to say hello.” He straightened up a little, as if he had to physically put some distance between us to be able to stop himself from kissing me.
“What did she say when you came to pick Sprocket up?”
“She was very glad to hear you were here, with me. She was worried, she knew you were at home and by yourself and that you wouldn't let me help you. I think 'thank god she finally came to her senses was her exact words,” he chuckled. Then he gave me a shy little glance before distractedly starting to fiddle with Sprocket's fur. “I might have... told her some things... She knew something was up, she kept asking questions, and I... guess I needed someone to talk to. I've spent a fair few hours at her kitchen table lately crying into a cup of tea,” he confessed, looking at me as if he was half expecting me to be angry at him about having talked to Kristin.
“That isn't the manliest thing I've heard,” I teased, and he blushed a little but I didn't get the giggle I was expecting. “That's okay, love, I don't mind that you've talked to her. I mean, I shut you out, I wasn't making anything easy for you, I know that... ” I assured him, which made Richard look relieved. “So does she really dislike me now?” I asked, raising an innocent eyebrow.
“No, no, of course not, don't be silly. She really likes you, she always has. But I guess she thinks that, and I'm inclined to agree with her on this, that you are a very very stubborn woman, possibly even monumentally pigheaded. And she couldn't understand how it was possible not to love me to death,” he added with a self-satisfied little sniff.
“Well, she was right. That isn't possible, as it turns out.” Even now I blushed as I admited to this, to being crazy about him. Richard leaned over me once again and placed his lips against mine in an unhurried kiss. I was so engrossed with him and his lips that I didn't even worry whether I had morning breath or not, or worry about anything else in the entire world for that matter. The moment was interrupted by Sprocket who, with his own canine sense of humor, decided to lick the side of my face, probably just to mimic what Richard was doing. Or maybe it was just a bid for attention, he'd never seen me do this with Richard before and somehow felt like he needed to weigh in.
“Oi. No. Bad dog,” Richard said, holding up a finger to Sprocket, but without any anger in his voice. “Mate, from now on I'm the only one who is allowed to lick her face. Okay? New rule.” My howls of laughter hurt my entire body, and Sprocket's look of doleful incomprehension only made my fit of giggling worse.
“Poor thing, no wonder he is a little confused. He isn't used to seeing us doing... this..” Looking up at Richard my eyes were drawn to his lips.
“Kissing? He'll get used to it soon enough, it's not like I'm going to stop any time soon,” he assured me, proving that he meant it by giving me another kiss.
“Good,” I mumbled, my voice muffled against his mouth.
“So how are you feeling today?” The look of concern that I remembered from the hospital was back on his face.
“I don't know yet, to be honest. Right now I feel okay, but I won't quite know what sort of day I'm having until I've been out of bed for a bit,” I explained, forgetting that I had a bad shoulder and shrugging a little.
“Okay. How about I go start breakfast, and you can gauge how you're feeling for a while? The weather is really nice outside, so I thought that if you're having a good day, we could take the dogs out for a little walk? Not far, just to the meadow maybe, if you're up for that. We won't have to have them on leashes for that and they can run around as much as they want.”
“That sounds great,” I smiled at him.
“Great. But only if you're up for it,” he added in a fussy manner and I nodded dutifully. But instead of getting out of bed to start breakfast, he leaned in again, picking up where we'd left off before Sprocket interrupted. I sighed against his lips, wrapped my arm around him and buried my hand into his hair, kissing him back as tenderly as I could. A wildfire of joy was raging through me, so intense I wondered if my body would be able to contain it. His hands ran down my back and side, the side that wasn't bruised, and landed on my hip. His fingers dug into my bare skin as he pulled me closer, and my heart did a little somersault in my chest. Sprocket chose this moment to test Richard's patience again, but did it a little differently this time by licking his face instead. Abruptly Richard's lips disappeared as his head snapped upright to look at the dog with an extremely exasperated air. He raised his finger to the dog again, but says nothing for a moment, pausing for comedic effect. “...No. Just. No.” I collapsed into another fit of giggles.
“Breakfast, was it?” I reminded him, biting my lip.
“Oh, yeah, right, breakfast. Come downstairs when you're ready.” Another quick peck on the lips, then he was gone. I got dressed as quickly as I was able to, ran a comb through my hair, and hobbled downstairs. Looking outside at the blue skies dotted with fluffy clouds I decided that today was going to be a good day whether it really was or not, and that I was coming on the dog walk. I couldn't sit inside in this. So we scoffed down a quick breakfast while trying to ignore the restless dogs in 'their room', they were all dying to go out. Opening the front door twenty minutes later was like releasing a herd of wild beasts, albeit a small one. Richard's pack was over the moon by seeing Sprocket again, and like most dogs, their highest wish was to just go outside to play. We traipsed out after them, Richard keeping a watchful eye on me as we wandered around to the back of the house, over the grass along the fence. The pack eventually chased after us when they noticed that we had set out a course.
“Relax, Richard, I can still walk, my legs work just fine,” I teased when I'd felt his eyes on me constantly for five minutes.
“I know that, that isn't why I'm looking at you.” The fact that he averted his eyes and blushed a little made him even more loveable, if that was possible. Then he fumbled for my hand and took it in his, interlacing our fingers. Knowing the route we were taking, the dogs ran ahead of us on the path along a field, and through another field, leading to a big grassy meadow that we had taken them to many times before. It had old stone fencing along its edges and a little creek running along one side. It was late June, the grass was bright green and there were flowers scattered across it, making it look like a little piece of heaven. While the dogs took off to explore we meandered along the stone wall until we reached the middle where we would be able to keep an eye on most of the meadow. Still holding my hand, Richard sat down on the grass with his back against the stone fence, drawing me down with him. More than willing to be close to him again I sank into his lap and wrapped my good arm around the back of his neck, and for a while, we just watched the dogs as they enjoyed the meadow with all the sights and smells it had to offer. After a while, fingertips brushing over the back of my neck drew my attention. “So how was it to drive here?” His eyes were kind and full of understanding. I knew what he meant by that question; I was in an accident while in a car, and was badly hurt through no fault of my own. It would be easy to see why an experience like that could turn the act of driving into something traumatic.
“It.. wasn't fun, to be honest. I was probably more nervous than the first time I ever drove a car. Thankfully the drive here is easy, it's just... motorway and county roads, not much traffic. I'm a lot more aware of other cars around me, now, and trust the drivers in them far less than I used to.”
“No one can blame you for that, I think,” he said quietly, running his hand over my thigh.
“To be honest I'm not sure I would've been able to do it if it meant having to go through a major city or a bunch of traffic lights.”
“So you're basically glad I live here and not in London?”
“Yes. But I probably would have driven anywhere last night just to see you...” A little blush crept up my neck as I admitted to this. “I just wish I had done it sooner.” Richard said nothing, just gave a low hum, hugged me tighter, and kept caressing my thigh.
“You know, I'm having one of those moments.” Richard broke what had been a long and serene silence in which I had just enjoyed the sun, the breeze on my face, and the feel of his arms around me.
“Hm, what?”
“When we were in Rome, on that hotel balcony, you said that was perfect, remember? I'm having one of those moments. This place, the sunshine, those happy idiots larking about..” He nodded in the direction of the dogs, then his eyes meet mine. “And you. Most importantly you, having you here, in my arms, finally. This is perfect, I could stay here forever.” I realized I'd stared at him with my mouth slightly open as he talked. And now, all I could do was close it, swallow, and try my best not to cry.
“I agree. But this moment is way better than on the balcony in Rome,” I said quietly, brushing my fingertips over the back of his neck. “Mostly because in Rome, I couldn't do this...” Cupping his face in my hand I leaned down to kiss him, and I smiled against his lips as he hummed and kissed me back eagerly.

We headed back to the house when the dogs seemed to have run off the worst of their excess energy. Back in the kitchen, Richard busied himself with making tea while I petted and talked to the dogs, having missed being around animals.
“Ron? Are you okay? You look a little pale...” He observed as he placed the tea mug in front of me on the table. Sitting down next to me he ran his hand over my forehead in a fussy, paternal manner.
“I don't know, it's just... pains are acting up, my head is aching. And I feel so bloody tired. I just want to take some pills and have a nap...” I complained, resenting the weakness I was feeling.
“Then go lie down, love?” He suggested mildly.
“But it's boring...” I pouted, realizing that I sounded like Jeremy. At this, he just rolled his eyes and shook his head. “I feel like a bloody infant, I can't seem to make it through the day without having a two-hour nap in the middle of it.”
“I know what that feels like; I was pretty much the same way after my accident. But Ron... The last time I saw you up and about was what, two weeks ago, in the hospital? And as far as I can remember from that you could barely walk, and certainly not without a bit of help. I think it's amazing how far you've come since then,” he said, trying his best to sound encouraging.
“Yeah, when you put it like that... All right, I'll go lie down. I'll just have a shower first,” I mumbled moodily, sighing and hanging my head.
“Listen, I know you feel weak and not like yourself, but it's still early days, and you have to give this time, Ronja. You will get better, but only by taking care of yourself,” he admonished. I knew I should listen to him, he was after all the one of us who had experience with recovering from a major accident.
“I thought you were going to take care of me?” I looked up at him with my best puppy-dog eyes.
“Yes, I am.” He straightened up, drawing up a more authoritarian air. “Which is why I'm telling you to go have a nap .” With a smile, he dropped the act and leaned in to give me a kiss. “Now go on.” I kissed him back and did as I was told; I dragged my tired body upstairs and had a shower, if anything it might help with sore and achy muscles. Wearing just a pair of knickers and an oversized t-shirt I crawled into Richard's bed and curled up, resting my head against a towel draped over the pillow. I knew I couldn't sleep, not yet, until the pills had taken effect. A huge part of me didn't want to sleep either, because going to sleep meant losing time with Richard. And right now I doidn't want to lose another minute with him. This sounded stupid, and like a well-worn cliché, but that didn't make it any less true. After having known each other for over a year, and after all our ups and downs, we had finally ended up where I had always hoped we would: together. And having hoped and waited for that for so long made me not want to lose out on anything, not a single moment. Just as I was thinking these things, the door to the bedroom opened slowly. Wordlessly Richard crossed the floor and crawled into bed, inching up to me and under my duvet. With his chest against my back, he draped an arm over my waist, and as if he had done it thousands of times before he slipped a hand under my t-shirt and caressed the skin on my stomach with a feather-light touch. Goosebumps immediately spreads over my body.
“What are you doing...?” I mumbled drowsily.
“I am going to lie here and hold you and cuddle you until you fall asleep,” he announced matter-of-factly. “I seem to remember I promised you cuddling all day.”
“Oh. Thank you.” I didn't have any objections to that.
“Mmm, my pleasure,” he hummed.
“Don't let me sleep more than two hours, please?”
“All right.”

I am awoken not by Richard's voice, as I would have expected, but by a plonk on my phone. Before I even opened my eyes I knew that the bed was empty and that I had been asleep for quite a while; the stiffness of my joints informs me of that. Picking up my phone from the bed beside me I discovered that the sound was caused by a text message from Richard.
'It's been two hours, you should wake up now.' I frowned at the screen, wondering if he'd gone mad. For a moment I just listened, trying to hear any sounds coming from the rest of the house that might tell me if Richard might not be home. Then I started tapping away.
'Thank you, but why couldn't you have just come upstairs and woken me up yourself?' Having sent the text I tried to listen for the sound of it arriving on Richard's phone, but I heard nothing, so I put my own phone down, deciding not to get out of bed until I got an explanation.
'Too far to walk. Come down now?' I snorted at the phone and type a quick 'yeah yeah' in response, then set about trying to get my battered body up and out of bed. Once that was accomplished I dug a fresh pair of baggy trousers out of my bag, changed the oversized t-shirt for a slightly more formfitting top and tottered out of the bedroom, feeling achy. I was slightly regretting having pushed myself out on that walk earlier, but I hadn't been able to pass it up. As soon as I opened the door to the corridor I was met by a wave of pleasant smells. Aaaw, he's made dinner, I thought to myself. But reaching the top of the stairs I came to a complete halt, my mouth falling open slightly. At the foot of the stairs was Richard, wearing a crisp white shirt, the grey jacket from the suit I loved so much, and a pair of dark grey jeans. He'd sorted out his hair more than he normally would do around me, and in his hands was a big bouquet of red roses. Unable to take my eyes off him I slowly made my way down the stairs, trying to control a wave of nervous excitement that had caused my palms to go clammy and my heart to race. He was the most handsome man I've ever laid my eyes on, and I feared my knees were going to buckle under me.
“What is all this?” I squeaked as I came to a halt a few steps from the bottom. He cleared his throat and averted his eyes for a moment, shuffling a little nervously.
“I was wondering if maybe... you would go on a date? ...With me?” He added as if that bit wasn't really clear. I cocked my head to one side, looking at him a little questioningly. “I mean... You and I have known each other for a long while and we're probably way beyond the stages of dating by now, technically. We've done lots of things together, but... we've never been on a proper date. And I don't want to skip on all the romantic bits just because we know each other pretty well already. Besides, I've wanted to ask you out on a date since.. probably the first time I ever saw you, to be honest, so... I want you to come on a date with me. If you want to?” He adds as if he was genuinely worried I might turn him down.
“.. R-r-right now?” Was all I managed to stammer. My brain wasn't working, the mere sight of him had shut it down. But judging by the flowers and his clothing that was what he meant. “I'm not exactly dressed for a date...”
“Yeah, right now,” he nodded, breaking out into a relieved grin. “You know, you don't have to worry about that. The place we're going to, it's rather secluded and... private. Luckily it isn't far from here, and I'm sure it'll just be the two of us. I've booked us a table outdoors as well, it's a nice place. And it has a very, very relaxed dress code. I'm not so sure about the chef, though, he doesn't have that much experience but he does try his very best, bless him.” He talked as if he was referring to a real restaurant, but from what he was saying I deduced that we were going to stay by the house and that the chef he's referring to is most likely himself.
“That sounds lovely.” My grin was so wide it almost hurts my cheeks.
“So is that a yes?”
“Of course it is, silly.”
“Good. Great. Fantastic,” he jabbered. “Here, these are for you.” He held out the bouquet of flowers with an air of chivalry, and I accepted them with slightly feigned surprise, pretending to not have noticed them until now.
“Aaaw, wow, look at these. They are absolutely gorgeous, thank you so much.” My first instinct was to shower him with kisses, but instead, I ascend the two last steps of the stairs and wrapped my good arm around him, giving him a long hug. The smell of him reminded me of the first time I saw him in a suit when I was babysitting the puppies, and it brought me back to a time where all I could do was keep everything inside and hope that maybe, one day, our relationship would change. Pulling back I eyed him up and down. “You look... incredibly handsome, I am barely able to string words into sentences here,” I stammered, fanning my face with a hand, feeling the blush creeping up my neck.
“Thank you,” he smiled, blinking a little at me.
“And I look like a complete bum...” I shrugged a little sadly. Shaking his head a little he took a step forwards.
“You're not. You just got out of bed, and you were in a huge accident not so long ago. But I still think you're gorgeous.” It was my turn to blink at him, my blush becoming several times worse. I couldn't even get myself to say thank you, all I could think to do was place a hand on his cheek and lean in for a kiss. When I was about halfway Richard gave me a mischievous smirk. “Are you going to kiss me before you even know how our first date went?” This made me freeze, then pull back sharply.
“No no, of course not, I'm not that easy,” I smirked back, and he chuckled his goofy laugh.
“Ready to go?” He proffered his arm to me, and I took it with a nod and a little curtsy, then let him lead me through the house. The main living room had windows and glass doors giving a great view of the outdoor patio and the garden behind the house. The doors were open, and through them, I could see what Richard had meant by having booked an 'outdoor table'. On the patio, there was a beautifully set dining table, complete with candles. Scattered around the patio there were a few lanterns with more candles in them, hanging from the rafters of the roof and scattered along the edges of the tiled patio floor. Once again my jaw fell open.
“I thought you only had tea lights?” I breathed stupidly, staring at the romantic scene. The sun was setting and the peaceful dogs were scattered across the patio, framing everything perfectly.
“I did! … Until today,” he admitted.
“When on earth did you have time to go candle-shopping? And not to mention getting the flowers?”
“I got some of it this morning when I was out to get Sprocket; like the candles and the food. He promised he wouldn't tell on me. And you're a heavy sleeper. I was out the door the moment I was sure you had conked out, bought the flowers.”
“I think you've had help.” I narrowed my eyes, staring him down, and he squirmed a little as he tried to look innocent, but he caved quickly.
“All right, Kristin provided some creativity and a bit of moral support. And all these lanterns are hers,” he added. Admitting to this didn't make me think any less of what Richard had done for me, I was still overwhelmed by it all.
“I can't believe you did all this.”
“I only do things like this for people who deserve it,” he said. Running a hand over the small of my back he gave me a look full of admiration.
“What did I do to deserve this?” I frowned.
“Well, getting hit by a bus and surviving makes me think you deserve it,” he remarked dryly, resulting in an abrupt and slightly painful chuckle from me. “Now go on, have a seat.” Like a gentleman, he escorted me to my chair and helped me sit down. “I wasn't sure if you'd want wine or something... else?” He asked.
“Wine would be great, actually, thanks. But I think I probably shouldn't have more than one or two glasses though, not on these meds...”
“Okay.. I'll go get us some wine, and some food. And put these in water.” He returned with the flowers in a vase and placed them on the table along with two wine glasses and an opened bottle. I stared at him with a soppy grin as he did all this. It turned out that he had spent most of the two hours I'd been asleep making a fantastic salad and a lovely pasta carbonara, leaving me rather impressed with his cooking abilities. By the time we had finished our food, and my allotted two glasses of wine, the sun had already set and a chill was in the air. Dinner had taken quite a while, considerably slowed by long conversations and much laughter. Having finished I helped him carry everything back into the kitchen as best I could. He tried to refuse, but it was the least I could do considering everything he had done for me. But after a while, I was sternly ordered back outside to sit on the sofa, on the premise that if I did as he says, I would get dessert. So I complied and headed back outside. Right outside the balcony doors, there was a comfortable outdoor sofa, it's back against the windows of the living room. The dogs had all piled themselves together by the balcony door, fast asleep again now that the tempting dinner had magically disappeared. Eager to qualify for dessert I sat down on the sofa and curled my legs up, feeling a little cold. When Richard appeared he was balancing two plates which he set down on the little table in front of me. He also has a huge blanket tucked under one arm, and before sitting down he draped it over my shoulders, having guessed that I might be cold. Then he sat down and handed me a plate with a huge slice of cake on it.
“Carrot cake. Courtesy of Kristin, I will freely admit,” he said, showing up his palm to me. “You should consider yourself lucky I didn't try my hand at baking.”
“You are very, very good at this, you know that?”
“At what?” He mumbled, eyebrows raised and a mouth full of cake.
“At this. The whole dating thing. I mean... Cooking food, the table you set out here, all the lights, the flowers...” A little, evil voice inside me thought that he must've done this many times before, with other women, but it seemed like such a petty question to ask.
“So I'm doing good...?” Once again he let his insecurities shine through. “I mean, normally I'm not very creative I guess, I would just take a girl out to dinner, somewhere fancy, maybe see a show or... something. I'm not very good at... romantic things like this.”
“Oh come on, taking someone out to a good dinner and maybe see a concert or a show, that's plenty romantic. You're not giving yourself enough credit. What you did with me, taking me to Italy, I thought that was incredibly romantic, even though that probably wasn't your intention...”
“You know, In a way.. it sort of was,” he mumbled. “In Italy, had meant to tell you... But I... wussed out.” He seemed so flustered and awkward I didn't have the heart to push him further on the subject.
“This is the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me. You're doing perfect,” I smiled, then popped a fork full of cake into my mouth. “I mean, I don't think anyone has even bought me roses before,” I added.
“Really? So you're saying that all I had to do to impress you was basically just buy you a bunch of flowers? And all of this was completely unnecessary?” He complained, but I knew he was joking.
“Pretty much.” I gave him an apologetic shrug, and we both laughed. Having emptied my own plate, I took Richard's plate out of his hands and placed them both on the table. I'd kept my hands off him for far too long, and so I inched closer to him on the sofa and wrapped my blanket around his shoulders as well, cocooning both of us in it, and he took me into his arms. “I know this date isn't technically over yet, but...” With my hand on the side of his neck, I drew him in, staring deeply into his eyes. Gently pressing my lips against his I kissed him like this really was our first date, and this was to be our first kiss, the one we would always remember. He returned the kiss with the same level of emotion, making me shudder. Still kissing me he pulled the blanket even tighter around both of us, almost over our heads, drawing me even closer. We giggled as our kisses intensify, nibbling and playing with each other's lips. Eventually managing to pull away from him I rested my head against his shoulder and neck, and for a while we sat there and just held each other, keeping each other warm under the blanket. The tranquility of the moment was slightly ruined by Captain, the little Jack Russell terrier, who suddenly jumped up into the sofa and optimistically stomped his way into our laps, trying to find a way to burrow himself under our blanket and squeeze in between us. Our blanket bundle had obviously seemed far warmer and more tempting to him than the pile of dogs he'd been a part of minutes before. “This must be what it's like having kids,” I giggled as Captain's paws and nose dug and shoved at my trouser leg as he was trying to make my lap into a nest.
“Yeah... Jealous, naughty, furry ones!” He said, looking down at his dog with exasperation. Slumping down into a ball in my lap Captain sighed with contentment and looked up at his owner with the innocence that only a dog could muster. I wrapped a bit of my blanket over him so only his head stuck out. “Spoiled little bugger,” Richard muttered, scratching the dog behind an ear. Then he shifted his attention back to me and ran his fingers through my hair as he looks at me. “We should probably head inside, too. It's getting cold and you look like you could use a lie down soon,” he said paternally. As much as would want to stay out here forever, under this blanket and in his arms, I had to concede that he was right, I could already feel the energy draining out of me and knew that I'd want to go to bed soon.
“Yeah, okay...” I sighed. “I'll help you tidy up the rest in the kitchen and then go to bed,” I offered.
“No,” he said flatly.
“I'll take the dogs out for the last wee?” I tried.
“Nope.” He shook his head a couple of times.
“I'll go upstairs, take my tablets and crawl into bed like a good girl?”
“Now you're catching on!” Knowing how stubborn Richard could be I saw no point in even trying to argue. I was stubborn too, but I really didn't have a reason to fight him on this. All he had wanted to do was be there for me, to help me out and be allowed to take care of me, to know that I needed him. If ordering me around and not letting me do anything but rest could help with that, then I was okay with listening to him. Which is why I pottered upstairs the minute we headed inside, leaving Richard with the tidying up. I dutifully took my pills, brushed my teeth, and crawled into bed, slightly resenting being back in it so soon. Having such little endurance when it came to just being awake was something I was still not used to, and probably never would be. Lying there I could hear the sounds coming from downstairs, of Richard clattering in the kitchen, the sink running, the dogs pattering around, and with the noises, a sudden sense of security washed through me. Ever since I got out of the hospital, since I had pushed Richard away from me, I had lived in a constant state of anxiety. To varying degrees, admittedly, but that vague sense of unease was always present, that feeling of just not being safe. Missing the comfort of Sprocket's presence hadn't helped either. The nights had always been the worst, I would lie there in the dark and listen to the silence and my own heart racing in my chest, jumping at the tiniest little sound. I couldn't even pinpoint exactly what I was scared of, I just was. But now, hearing the comforting sounds in the house, the sounds of having someone else around, someone who wanted to take care of me, I felt a warmth spread through me. Now I felt sheltered, protected, and watched over. The immense relief of suddenly feeling this way overwhelmed me for a moment, causing me to shed a few tears, mostly out of gratitude. After what had felt like an eternity of impatient waiting, the bedroom door finally opened and Richard crossed the floor on light, quiet feet.
“I'm not sleeping yet,” I whispered as he got into bed. He took this opportunity to gently move closer, feeling his way as he couldn't see me in the darkness of the room.
“Why not?” He asked, having inched right up to me and draped his arm over my waist.
“I was waiting for you.” I went on the hunt for his lips in the dark, finding his jawbone at first and trailing kisses across it and his cheek until my mouth met his.
“Hmm, I think I'm glad you weren't sleeping yet,” he mumbled, and in the dark, I couldn't see but I could feel his little smile against my lips. Silence fell between us, but his hand was caressing my back, and every now and then he brushed his nose lightly over mine or gave me a feather-light kiss. I tried to fight it, unwilling to miss out on a single touch or kiss from him, but far quicker than I wanted to he managed to lull me into sleep.

Chapter Text

Waking up I instantly was feeling achy again, a dull thumping in my clavicle and ribs. Rolling over a little stiffly, I grabbed a pill and a glass of water from the nightstand. Laying back down I looked over at Richard, sleeping with his back towards me, his breathing slow and steady. Slowly I inched up to him, gingerly to not aggravate my broken bones too much. Just being able to do this now, lie close to him and hug him, made me feel waves of joy and gratitude. I slipped my arm under his duvet and gently wrapped it around him, pressing my body against his back. Softly I kissed his shoulder and the back of his neck, gently caressing his arm. After a while he sighed and stirred a little, then I felt his heavy, sleepy hand over mine.
“Good morning, love,” I whispered against the back of his neck, brushing my lips lightly across his skin.
“Hmm... it is now,” he mumbled, his voice heavy with sleep. I hugged him tightly to my body, or as tight as I could without anything hurting too much. “Ron...?” Richard seemed to tense up a little in my arms.
“Mm?”
“You're wearing very little clothes,” he observed, obviously having felt my naked chest press against his back.
“I got too warm during the night, took my t-shirt off. I'm sorry...” I muttered, feeling myself getting hot around the ears. I honestly hadn't thought about it, but it was the first time I didn't have a top on around him.
“Sorry? It wasn't a complaint, believe me!” He chuckled. He turned around to face me and wrapped his arm around me, and with his nose an inch from mine he looked into my eyes. Smiling a little sleepily, he ran a hand over the side of my face. “Morning, beautiful.” At this, I blushed and closed my eyes for a second, shaking my head a little.
“I have seen myself in the mirror lately,” I mumbled, thinking about my bruised body and slightly swollen cheekbone.
“Still beautiful. Give it time, you'll look like yourself again soon,” he assured me, running his fingers lightly through my hair. “Now come here.” He leaned in for a kiss. Still affected by just having woken up, his kiss was slow and lazy. Kissing him suddenly felt a little different, for the first time my naked chest was against his, and I felt closer to him than ever before. Wanting to feel closer, Richard slipped a leg in between mine and held me tighter, pressing my chest against his own. I trailed my palm up his spine and neck, then ran my fingers through his hair, grabbing hold of it. Richard's mouth disappeared from mine, trailing kisses along my jaw, taking care to kiss the side that wasn't bruised and sore. He kissed his way down my neck, to my shoulders and unbroken clavicle, then up again, nuzzling kisses by my ear. A little wince escaped me as his mouth found that sensitive spot, causing me to erupt into goosebumps. My heart was quickening, my breathing was getting heavier, and I stretched my neck, offering it up to him. He sighed and kept nuzzling my neck, sucking at it a little, his breathing also becoming faster and heavier. His hand trailed from my back, up along my side, then his hand cupped my breast gently. This caused my breath to hitch in my throat and another little wince escaped me. His lips found mine again, kissing more frantically now as his thumb rubbed over my nipple in firm circles.
“Richard, Richard...” I whispered, panting slightly as I placed a hand on his chest to stop him. “We have to stop this now before we get too... carried away,” I said a little apologetically. “Not that I want to stop, I really don't, but I'm still too banged up for... that,” I finished a little awkwardly, blushing a little. His hand let go of my breast, landing on my back in stead, caressing my spine.
“It's okay, I get it, Ronja,” he said, understanding in his voice. “Sorry if I went too far, I was getting carried away there,” he admitted, giving an apologetic shrug.
“You didn't go too far,” I smiled, running my fingers through his hair. “And I was really getting carried away too.”
“God, it's really hard having you in my bed like this and not being able to... do anything about it,” he complained, rubbing his face frustratedly.
“Yes, I can feel exactly how hard it is,” I teased and bit my lower lip, pushing my hip against his throbbing erection. It wasn't the first time I'd felt his cock hard against my body, but last time he was fast asleep. This time it was because of me, and it was making my heart pound in my ears.
“Sssh, no don't, don't.. aggravate it,” he moaned.
“Aggravate?” I laughed at the choice of wording. “All right, sorry, sorry,” I added, seeing the frustration in his face. The fire his kisses from before had stirred in me was still there, and the feel of his erection against me wasn't helping. Leaning in again I kissed his lips and trailed my hand down the front of his chest and stomach, coming to a halt right above the elastic on his pajama bottoms. “I could... give you a hand?” I whispered against his lips, kissing him again. I swirled my fingertips over his skin, causing him to hum deeply.
“Tempting...” He breathed.
“Yeah...?” I whispered, slowly slipping my fingers in underneath the waistband of his boxers, asking for permission.
“Uh-huh...” He nodded, kissing me blindly. My heart was racing, making my head hurt again, but I couldn't care less. This was something entirely new and exciting, a whole new side to our relationship that we had yet to explore. Finding his erection, I brushed my fingers lightly over it, and he hummed and squirmed a little, wanting a firmer touch. I ran my fingers over the length of it one more time, before gently placing my palm around him. He let out a soft moan when he felt my hand closing around him. I swirled a thumb over his head, feeling that he was already wet. Slowly I began working on him, and I could feel his hot breath against my mouth as he huffed, his breathing getting heavier again.
“Your clothing is a little restrictive...” I whispered, stopping for a moment. With a frustrated sigh he shoves both his pajama bottoms and boxers down quickly, kicking them away. My stomach did a back-flip. Richard Hammond, completely naked in my bed. About damn time. “Better,” I hummed, running my palm firmly over his side and down his hip before finding his cock again. When I resumed stroking him, my pace was a little quicker this time.
“Fuck, Ronja,” he groaned as I seemed to hit upon a pace that worked for him. I kissed him along his jaw and down his neck, nuzzling the same spot by the ear that he had kissed earlier.
“Imagine we're naked together,” I whispered seductively. “Sticky and sweaty...” I continued, voicing what I was imagining inside my head. I paused for a moment, before continuing. “Imagine you being... deep inside me,” I breathed. He groaned, his fingers digging a little into my hip. “All tight... and warm and wet.” I spoke slowly, but kept my pace on his cock.
“God, Ron... Feels so fucking good,” He moaned, almost thrusting into my hand, getting carried away.
“Imagine me moaning in your ear, groaning your name as you fuck me.” My whispers of encouragement were making the tension in him mount quickly.
“Fuck, faster,” he begged, and I increased my rhythm a little.
“And I'm moaning in your ear, begging you to fuck me harder...” I nipped at his earlobe and breathed into his ear. His cock twitched in my hand and I knew he wasn't going to last much longer this way, his fingers were digging hard into my side now. I nipped at the skin of his neck with my teeth “I'm grinding my hips up against you... moaning louder and louder... Moaning your name. Oh god, Richard, you're going to make me come...” My last words, along with my hand on his cock, sent him over the edge, he thrust his hips against my hand faster and faster until he seized up in a guttural groan, and I felt warm wetness explode over my hand. I kept pumping him through his orgasm, kissing his neck lazily as I did, then I slowed down as I felt his orgasm recede. I'm breathing heavily too now, but Richard was panting like he's been out for a run. After a minute he came to his senses again, managing to open his eyes to look down at me.
“Hmm, thank you,” he breathed, closing his eyes for a moment in gratitude before giving me a sloppy kiss.
“You're welcome,” I breathed back and kissed him again, and then we broke out giggling against each other's lips, a liberating laugh, releasing some of the sexual tension. “I'm sorry, I've made a right old mess,” I laughed, my hand sticky and wet.
“Technically, I made the mess,” he giggled and nipped at my lips again. “But you made me make it,” he added, giving me another kiss. “That can't have been very fulfilling for you, though?” He asked, raising his eyebrows at me, looking apologetic.
“Maybe not,” I shrugged. “But I'm sure you'll make it up to me when I've healed up a bit?” At this, he just smiled and nodded, looking like an eager, excited child. “But I love this, Richard. I love... figuring you out, this side of you, learning you.”
“I can't wait until it's my turn,” he sighed longingly, running his hand over my hair.
“Me too,” I sighed.
“I think I need a shower. Wanna come with me?” His eyebrow was raised in a cheeky way, a mischievous look on his face.
“Okay,” I nodded, unable to say no to more naked time with him no matter how frustrating it might be for me. Richard crawled out of bed and padded naked into the bathroom, and I couldn't take my eyes off him for a second.
“Stop staring at my arse, lady. And get a move on!” He shouted without turning around, disappearing into the bathroom. Laughing quietly at him I got stiffly out of bed, feeling like a hundred years old. Before I reached the open bathroom door I could already hear the water running. Reaching the door I leaned against the door frame, taking in the sight of Richard in the shower, water running over his hair and face. Wiping water out of his eyes he opened them and caught the sight of me in the corner of his eye. Turning to look at me his mouth fell open a little as his eyes wandered down my body. This was the first time he'd seen my bare chest, and his eyes glided slowly over my body, down and up again, drinking me in. A blush crept over my neck when I slid my panties down over my hips and let them fall to the floor. I felt vulnerable and a little self-conscious under Richard's unblinking stare, I would have even if I wasn't covered in bruises. Seeing that I was feeling a little uncomfortable, he opened the glass door to the big, roomy shower, inviting me in.
“God, you're beautiful,” he said as I entered and he closed the door behind me.
“I'm a walking bruise,” I sulked, hanging my head a little.
“It'll get better, love,” he said comfortingly, pulling me in for a hug and a kiss. Gently he lead me into the stream of warm water, and for a moment we just stood there, holding each other, my head leaning against his shoulder, enjoying the warm water falling over us. This was the first time we're naked together, and the excitement of this was making my heart pound in my chest and my stomach swoop with joy. Eventually, managing to pull ourselves out of our reverie, we set about doing what we were originally here to do. I began washing my hair, but clumsily as I could only use one arm, the other one I couldn't lift that high because of my clavicle. Richard noticed and took over, slowly running his fingertips through my hair, massaging my head, and I closed my eyes blissfully. When Richard wahed his own hair, I helped out with one hand, wanting to repay the favor. Having finished with Richard's hair, I picked up my body wash, but Richard snatched it from me. I studied him as he opened it, pouring some into his palm.
“Turn around,” he said, and my eyes snapped up to meet his, raising my eyebrow at him. “Go on,” he said sternly. With a quizzical frown, I somewhat hesitantly turned my back to him. His arms closed around me from behind, and his palms ran over my stomach, spreading soap over my warm, wet skin. His palms ran slowly over my stomach, down my hips, and then up my sides, soaping me up. His mouth was at the side of my neck, kissing me slowly. I tilted my head, offering up my neck to him, knowing full well this was a bad idea. His soapy, warm hands slid upwards, over my breasts and chest, my shoulders, then go back to my breasts, cupping them, rubbing his thumb over my nipples.
“Richard...” I groaned, placing my hands over his. “This really isn't being very helpful,” I complained, frustration flaring up in me again. To my surprise, I felt his erection against my bum.
“I'm sorry, I can't help myself,” he moaned against my neck but let my breasts go and his hands slid back down to my stomach. I turned around in his arms, leaned back a little, and gave his erection a pointed look.
“Again?” I asked, a little exasperatedly, as if I was surprised he's up and running again, as it were.
“Ronja, I am in a hot and steamy shower, naked with a bloody sexy woman in front of me, and I'm soaping her up. The only reason I wouldn't have a boner right now would be if I was stone dead!” He said tetchily.
“You invited me in here,” I pointed out with an innocent pout. “And you were the one who started with the soap,” I continued.
“Yes, yes,” he said impatiently.
“I'm not giving you a hand again. You're just going to have to stay as frustrated as me,” I warned, giving him a kiss, but also teasing him by pressing my body against him, trapping his erection between us.
“Gooood! These are going to be some loooong fucking days,” he complained loudly, covering his face with his hands for a moment.
“I know, baby,” I sighed and took a step away from him, rinsing the soap off my body.

Chapter Text

Richard was sitting in his study, trying to get some work done on his computer while Ronja had one of her frequent naps. For the past three days since she turned up on his doorstep, he'd been focusing solely on her, and the e-mails had piled up. He also had an article lying around that was half-finished, and it was looming over him. He found it hard to keep focus, his mind constantly drifting, circling back to Ronja over and over. But for once, his thoughts about Ronja weren't full of confusion or frustration, or longing, like they had been for so long. When he thought of her now, all he felt was love and happiness. And a sense of calm, for the first time in a long time. His thoughts were interrupted by a loud, rather ominous-sounding thud from upstairs, and Richard's insides froze from the noise. Something wasn't right, that sound was too loud. Grabbing his phone from the desk he jumped out of his chair and ran upstairs. The bed was empty, but a quick glance through the open door to the bathroom made Richard's heart stop. Ronja was on the floor, not moving. Getting down on the floor next to her, he tried to shake her, calling her name. No response. From the countless courses of first aid and CPR he'd had to go through with filming Top Gear and other bits for telly, his training immediately kicked in and he made sure she was breathing before calling for an ambulance. Oh god, how could the person on the phone sound so bloody calm? Richard's heart was racing with fear. What the hell was happening? The dispatcher on the phone seemed to have an endless amount of questions, which Richard impatiently tried to answer. When asked what he thought could have happened, Richard quickly explained about Ronja's accident and recounted what injuries she had sustained. The ones he could remember, at any rate. The woman on the phone commented that she remembered that accident from the news, and let Richard know she was going to call the ambulance which was already on its way and make them step on it. This did nothing to calm Richard down. He tried shaking her again, calling her name, pleading with her to wake up, but it was like she was in a coma again. Leaving Ronja alone on the floor was the last thing he wanted to do, but Richard realized he needed to lock the dogs away so they wouldn't get in the way of the paramedics, and make sure the front door is open when the ambulance arrived. He checked one more time that she was still breathing before running downstairs, ushering the dogs into their room and checking the front door. All the time he was on the phone with the dispatcher, who updated him on the progress of the ambulance and tried to keep Richard calm. An age seemed to pass by before he could hear the ambulance coming up the driveway. He quickly showed the paramedics the way to where Ronja was, and they entered the bathroom and immediately started working on her. They tried to wake her up, placing heart monitor equipment on her, and inserting IV lines. Ronja didn't stir, oblivious to all of this. As hard as it was for Richard, he knew he had to hang back, stay out of the way and let them do their job. So instead he paced back and forth in front of his bed. Now that he wasn't on the phone with the dispatcher anymore, he had time to think, and he was working himself into a panic. What had happened? Why was she unconscious? Had she just passed out and hit her head? Or was it something with her injuries from the accident that had caused her to pass out? Oh god, what if she was having a stroke or a brain bleed or... or she was bleeding internally somewhere, or... A hand on his shoulder wrenched Richard out of his panicked, nightmarish thoughts. One of the paramedics was trying to talk to him.
“Can you drive? Are you in any state to drive?” The paramedic asked.
“Um... yeah. Yes,” Richard answered, squaring his shoulders, trying to get hold of his senses.
“Then follow us to the hospital, yeah? Her breathing and heart are okay, but she's still out and we don't know why, yeah?” the paramedic explained, trying to calm Richard down. Richard nodded then watched helplessly as Ronja was wheeled past him in a gurney and carried down the stairs. He drew a deep breath, rubbing his face with his hands for a second. Then he ran downstairs, grabbed the first set of keys he could lay his hands on, and jumped in the car.

The drive only took about 13 minutes, but it was the longest drive of his life. At one point he looked at the ambulance in front of him, wondering if she was still alive in there. At that thought, tears welled up in his eyes and he blinked rapidly, wiping his face hurriedly with his hand. 'Stop it, Richard. She survived getting hit by a bus. She's basically immortal. You've only had 4 days together, that can't be all you're going to get.' Finally entering the A&E, he helplessly watched again as she was wheeled past him and into a room as a whole team of nurses and doctors descended upon her. Richard was shown to the waiting room, where he impatiently wrung his hands and drank too much coffee, which was probably the last thing he needed right now. A sudden wave of nausea washed over him, and for a minute he thought he was actually going to be sick. He knew why, it was the adrenaline leaving his system, he'd felt this before. Needing something to do, someone to talk to, he picked up his phone and calls Jeremy, knowing he'd be up despite the late hour. “Hamster! Hello!” Jeremy said cheerfully. “What's up?”
“Hi, Jeremy... I um... I'm at the hospital,” he said, stress and concern audible in his voice. The tone in Jeremy's voice instantly changed.
“Richard, what's going on?” He asked simply, not faffing about.
“It's Ronja, she... I don't know what happened, she just... passed out, I think. I wasn't there, I just heard a thud upstairs and found her on the floor. I couldn't wake her up.” There was a moment of silence in which this sunk in with Jeremy.
“Is she still out of it?” He asked.
“She was when I saw her last, yeah,” Richard sighed, rubbing his temple with his free hand.
“Have they said anything? The doctors?”
“No, I haven't heard anything, I've been here about half an hour now." To his own surprise, he felt his lower lip starting to wobble out of control and his eyes welling up.
“Do you want me to come over? I'm at home, I'd be there in an hour,” Jeremy offered, sensing the fear in Richard's voice. Richard sniffed, quickly wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.
“No, no...” he sighed. “You don't have to do tha- hang on Jeremy, someone's here.” Richard stood up quickly as a nurse was making a beeline for him.
“Richard? She's awake now, she's asked for you,” she said with a gentle smile. Richard nodded, feeling the relief wash through him for a moment before lifting his phone up to his ear again.
“Jeremy, she's awake. I'll call you later,” he said hurriedly, hung up, and followed the nurse.

The door to my room flew open and Richard came charging through it at top speed. His face was ashen and his eyes were filled with panic. Reaching my bed he hugged me much too tightly and I gave a little wince, but didn't want him to let go. He quickly kissed my forehead, my temple, and my cheek, desperately needing to show his gratitude for me being awake. I tried to calm him down by running my palm up and down his back.
“Richard, it's okay, I'm okay,” I said softly. Letting me go he looked at me intently, his hand shaking as he wrapped it around mine.
“What happened, Ron? Do you know?” He sat down carefully on the edge of my bed, looking distraught with worry.
“No idea,” I shrugged, shaking my head a little. My thoughts were racing, my brain scrambling for any sort of explanation of what had happened. “I was going to the bathroom, to brush my teeth I think, and then it all just went black.”
“Have the doctors said anything?”
“No, not really...” I answered, picking at the duvet cover.
“Fucking hell you scared me, Ron...” Richard said with feeling, and I looked up at him. He was rubbing his face tiredly with his free hand before meeting my gaze, his eyes still full of fear.
“I'm sorry, love” I apologized, squeezing his hand. He inched a little closer to me, wrapped his arms around me again, and hugged me tightly. And for a while we just sit like that, holding each other. Reluctantly letting me go, Richard studied me for a minute.
“How are you feeling?”
“I don't know... tired, as always. And a bit fuzzy. And my forehead hurts,” I frowned.
“Yeah, you have a little gash there. I'm guessing you clipped the cabinet on your way down,” Richard said with a sympathetic look.
“Great. Another part of me that's gonna hurt,” I grumbled.
“I'm sorry, baby,” he said quietly, kissing my cheek. “Do you need anything? Water or something?”
“Yeah, water would be good,” I said with a weak smile. Richard got up, grabbed a paper cup from a dispenser by the sink, and filled it up with water. Pulling a chair up to my bed he sat down and proffered me the cup. Habitually he took my hand again, just like he had done so many times the last time I was in a hospital bed.
“God, what happened, Richard?” I moaned, feeling scared of what was going on with me. These past few days I had felt a bit better with each day, and I had not expected to find myself in a hospital bed ever again. At least not this quickly. I slumped back down on the raised back of the bed, feeling tired.
"I don't know... I'm hoping the doctors might figure it out.” A silence fell in which we just looked at each other, holding hands.
“Did you get any work done?” I asked, remembering that he had said he was going to work while I had a nap.
“Mno, not really. Managed to answer a few emails at least. But I kept getting distracted,” he said, giving me an almost embarrassed smile.
“Distracted? By what? Me thundering to the floor?” At this, he gave a little chuckle.
“Well yes, when that happened I definitely got distracted. But I was distracted before that, too. Thinking about you,” he admitted, almost shyly.
“I was just upstairs?” I smiled.
“I know, I know,” he sighed. He was just about to say something more when the door opened and a doctor came in.
“Hello Ronja, I'm Johnathan, I was your doctor when you came in earlier,” he said, offering his hand, and I shook it.
“I remember,” I said with a small smile.
“Good, good. Mind if we have a chat?” He asked kindly.
“No, of course,” I said, anxious to hear what he had to say. The doctor looked pointedly at Richard, then back at me, and I understood what the gesture meant. “No, no, he can stay. He's my … boyfriend,” I said, having to take a run-up to the word “boyfriend”, not having called him that before. Richard and I exchanged a quick look at this, where we both were unable to hide a little blush and a small smile.
“All right,” the doctor said, pulling up a chair to the side of my bed and turning his attention back to me. “I know I asked you this before, but do you have any idea what happened?”
“No,” I shrugged, wishing I could give a better answer. “I was just going to brush my teeth, then the world went dark.”
“You weren't dizzy, had tunnel vision, blurry vision, anything like that?”
“No... not that I can remember, anyway.” I shrugged. “I thought I perhaps just passed out from a blood pressure drop, you know, orthostatic hypotension or something...”
“Quit showing off your medical education,” the doctor smirked, causing me to immediately like him.
“But I'm guessing it can't be that, passing out from low blood pressure doesn't cause you to go unconscious for 45 minutes...” I mumbled.
“Exactly right, it doesn't. Besides, your blood pressure was normal when you came in, you're not anemic, and you're up and about walking most of the day at home so orthostatic hypotension seems unlikely in someone as young and healthy as you,” he agreed.
“Ok then, doctor, what's the theory?”
“I suspect, and a few other doctors agree with me, that you may have had a seizure,” he said, and I felt my heart sink.
“Oh fuck,” I mumbled, forgetting my manners for a minute. “Not a grand mal? Richard, was I twitching or anything when you found me?” I asked, turning my attention to him for a second.
“No, no, you were just out cold, lying still,” he piped up, looking at me with wide eyes. “What's a grand mal?”
“A grand mal is a type of seizure in which someone first goes unconscious, then after 10 to 20 seconds they start having convulsions which can last for minutes,” he explained to Richard, then turned to me. “And no, I don't think it was a grand mal. If it was, it was an incredibly short one. I think you had enough seizure activity to cause you to go unconscious, but not enough to cause a massive clonic phase.”
“Clonic?” Hammond asked, not keeping up with the medical jargon.
“Having convulsions,” I explained, and Richard nodded in understanding.
“So this is an after-effect of the brain injury from the crash, is it?” I asked, trying to make sense of why I was suddenly having seizures.
“That is the most likely explanation. You did have several subarachnoid bleeds and a skull fracture, both injuries that bear witness to a pretty significant knock to the head. And seizures like these are not uncommon in patients with traumatic brain injuries. We've taken a basic CT, but I want to do a more comprehensive MRI and an EEG of you later. And you're staying here for observation at least until tomorrow,” the doctor said. I frowned with dislike, hating the thought of staying in a hospital again.
“All right, do what you have to do,” I sighed, giving in, deciding to be a good patient for once.
“Okay, good,” the doctor said with a smile. “I'll go order those tests, then.” He was just about to get out of the chair when I spoke again.
“Um, doctor?”
“Yes?” He said, sitting back down again.
“Am I an epileptic now?” At this, the doctor hesitated, and just when he opened his mouth to start answering I held up a hand.
“No, don't answer that. Because you can't know that, there's no way of knowing until this eventually happens again and I have another seizure, I know that as well as you do,” I sighed, rubbing my face now.
“My thoughts exactly,” the doctor agreed. “This might have been just a one-off thing, something that will never happen again. But it might not be. And I'm sorry to say that we just have to wait and see which one it is.” He gave my hand a few pats, then got up from his chair and left us alone.
“So... A seizure, huh?” Richard said quietly when the doctor was gone.
“Yeah...” I sighed. “The thought did cross my mind actually, seems the most likely explanation. But not necessarily one I'm happy about.” Richard didn't say anything, just took my hand and caressed it with his thumb.
“Listen, I was just talking to Jeremy before I came in here. I better call him back, let him know you're okay, he's probably worried.”
“Yeah, okay, you do that. Tell him hello from me, yeah?”
“I will,” Richard said, got up from his chair, and gave my forehead a kiss before leaving the room. By the time he returned to my room, he found me sitting upright in bed, crying quietly, my hands lying limply in my lap. As Richard spotted this he hurried over to my bed. “Hey, hey, hey... What's going on?” He asked in a soothing voice, wrapping his arms around me in a warm hug. He ran his hand over my back, just holding me, letting me cry.
“I'm sorry, Richard,” I said, straightening up a little, wiping my face with my hands.
“What's going on, baby?”
“I'm sorry, my mind is just spinning out of control,” I sniffed apologetically.
“What about?”
“I just... What if I'm epileptic now? I will have to go on meds and find the right ones and the right dosage... I might have my driving license taken away, I might have to quit my job... Maybe I'll have to get an epilepsy detection dog and a medical bracelet and never be able to do another day's work again and...” My lower lip was trembling badly, my voice cracking. Richard looked at me seriously, knowing that I was panicking.
“Ron, Ron, stop it...” He said quietly, holding me close, kissing my temple. “Just stop, will you?” I heaved deeply, trying to calm myself a little. “Remember, I've been through this too, yeah? I hurt my brain and I didn't feel like myself for months and months, probably years. And I was worried I was always going to feel that way, that I'd never be myself again and I'd never be able to work or spend my life the way I used to. Remember what the doctor said to you earlier, you even said it yourself, yeah? This might never happen again, it might be a one-off thing. And even if it isn't, if it happens again and some or all of the things you're worried about happens... We'll get through it, yeah? And learn to live with it. I'll be there with you.” He held me close as he tells me all of this. I gave a sob, straightened up and pulled away from Richard a little, wiping my eyes again.
“But you didn't sign up for any of this, did you?” I said, unable to choke another sob.
“There you go again, trying to manage everything yourself and not wanting to be a burden”, he said a little sternly, before continuing. “I didn't sign up for this? Ronja, I sat by your bed for five days, wondering if I'd ever get to see your smile again and if I'd lost every chance to tell you how I felt about you. Constantly wondering if you were dying from me. I signed up for this. I signed up for all of it the moment I got the call about you being in that accident. To be honest, I signed up for this way before that. I don't care what our lives look like six months or a year from now, if you're an epileptic or not, if you need meds or can't work and all the rest of it. No matter what happens and how you're doing, I'm going to be eternally grateful that I get to spend my time with you.” At this, I just stared at him for a while, trying to figure out what to say.
“How the fuck did I land you?” I said, giving a noise between a chuckle and a sob, feeling like the luckiest human alive.
“By just being who you are. I kinda like you, you know, you daft woman.” And suddenly, with that, I felt much calmer. Richard gave me another hug and a kiss, but we were interrupted by a nurse opening the door and entering the room.
“Oooops, sorry,” she said, blushing a little.
“No, it's fine,” I waved, but also blushed a little. Now I knew what gossip this hospital was going to be buzzing with for the next week or so. That guy off Top Gear who got divorced has a new girlfriend.
“We just have to move you up to a bed ward,” she explained. “That's okay?”
“Yeah, yeah... You need your beds open down here, I know, I work at the A&E in Guildford” I said, having expected this now that I knew I was being admitted for observation overnight. She wheeled me and my bed from the A&E to Neurology, Richard plodding along beside me.
“Right, I'll let them know you're here now,” the nurse said, parking my bed and putting on the brakes. “It was nice to meet you,” she smiled, shaking my hand. She glanced at Richard but obviously felt too shy to shake the hand of that man off the telly. “Feel better, yeah?” She exited the room with a little wave. Richard pulled a chair up to my bed again and sat down.
“God, what time is it?” I sighed, rubbing my tired face.
“Nearly 1 am,” Richard sighed, checking his watch.
“Richard, you should go home,” I sid quietly. At this Richard's face turned serious, straightening up a little, and I knew what he was thinking. “Now, before you start,” I said calmly, holding up a hand. “This is not me pushing you away, thinking I can handle everything on my own and not wanting to be a burden, all right? This isn't like that. This is me being sensible. It's getting really late. You have 5 dogs in your house that probably really needs the bathroom soon. And I don't know what is going to happen tonight, if they're going to do those tests on me now or wait until the morning. So there's no point in you sitting here, half-dead from tiredness, watching me do potentially nothing but sleep. Especially when your own bed is what, just 15 minutes away?"
“But...” Richard mumbled, trying to come up with an argument.
“Richard, I'm fine, okay? I'm awake, I'm being monitored and looked after, and I'll see you tomorrow, yeah? Go home, get some sleep.”
“But what if something happens? What if you get another seizure or... something,” he said quietly, looking worried.
“I'll tell them that if something happens during the night, they'll call you, okay?” I reached out for his hand and he took it, looking a little hesitant.
“Yeah, all right,” he agreed eventually with a little shrug.
“They would have called you in any case,” I said, squeezing his hand. “Because I... I listed you as my next of kin. If that's... okay?” I looked up at him questioningly.
“Of course that's okay, baby,” he said, looking almost sad that I had to ask. “Okay, all right, I'll go home, let the dogs out, try to get some sleep,” he sighed, getting up from his chair and wrapping his arms around me.
“Good boy,” I said, running my hands over his back. “I'm sorry for giving you such a scare today.”
“Just don't do it again,” he muttered darkly, then gave me a long kiss. Richard promised he'd be back in the morning, and I gave him some instructions on what to bring me, as all I have on me was a hospital gown and a pair of knickers. The t-shirt I had been wearing was cut open by the paramedics. I got another long hug and a kiss before Richard reluctantly let me go and left the room.

Chapter Text

By 10 am the next morning there was a gentle knock on my door, and Richard entered, a little bag hanging off his shoulders. Depositing the bag on a table he walked over to my bed and sat down on the edge of it.
“Good morning, lovely,” he smiled, giving me a gentle kiss. The way he looked at me sent butterflies through my entire body, making me smile widely at him. “You look a little tired?” Concern flashed across his face again.
“Yeah, it's been a busy night. They didn't want to wait with the tests so I've been up half the night lying in an MRI machine, then doing that EEG.”
“Ouch, that sounds miserable. Have they told you anything about the results?” He asked, taking my hand.
“No, not yet, I'm waiting for the doctors to start their rounds...” I sighed, rubbing my eyes. “You look like you've had a better night than me.” Looking at Richard he seemed far more refreshed than I felt.
“Yeah, I probably did. It took a while to fall asleep, and the bed felt very empty,” he complained. "Even with five dogs in it," he admitted with an embarrassed shrug.
"You let them all sleep in your bed?" I gaped, chuckling a little, trying to imagine what a pile of fur, paws, and tails that must have been.
"Hey, I was lonely!" He said defensively. "But at least I got some sleep.” He gave me another kiss, then sat down on the chair by the bed.
“Oh, I forgot to ask you last night, what did Jeremy say on the phone?”
“He was very worried, mostly. But glad you were awake and seemingly okay. He still offered to come over, but I told him he didn't have to. Also, he suggested that he and James could come over some evening when you're back home, just have some food and hang out. They want to see how you're doing.”
“Aaw. He's a sweetheart, isn't he? Underneath all that testosterone,” I added, and Richard chuckled.
“Don't tell anyone, but he's the biggest softie of all of us,” Richard whispered conspiratorially. He took my hand in his, and we talked about normal things for a bit, the dogs, the weather. “Ron? … Ronja?” Richard's voice and a squeeze on my hand pulled me out of what had been a long moment of me completely zoning out. “Where were you just now? You were miles away!” He observed. “It wasn't a seizure, was it?”
“What? No, no, I just got lost in my own thoughts,” I reassured him, squeezing his hand back. “I've been doing that since the day you first met me, remember?”
“What were you thinking about? Seemed important,” he asked.
“About quitting my job, actually,” I admitted.
“What?” He frowned. “You love your job. Is this about you being worried you're epileptic now?”
“No, it isn't actually. And yes, I do, I love my job. Or... I did. But, Richard, every day at that place I am surrounded by pain and suffering and tragedy. And I nearly died. And I feel like all I've done so far in life is go to school and go to work. And my work consists solely of taking care of other people. I don't know, I just want to live a little before I actually do die, eventually.”
“I get that, I really do. But maybe give it a month or two before deciding to quit your career?” He suggested kindly. “You went through a massive trauma, you're still processing.”
“Yeah, I guess you're right,” I sighed, seeing the sense in this. There was a knock on the door, and I felt relieved when a doctor came into the room. He let me know that they hadn't found anything of note on either the MRI or the EEG. No obvious cause on the images that could have caused the seizure, and no seizure activity.
“So, let us all just hope that this was a one-time thing, an after-effect of the injuries from the crash and that you and I never have to see each other again. At least not as doctor and patient,” he finished with a little smile.
“Agreed, that's a deal,” I nodded, feeling some sense of relief, but my fear of this happening again still lingered, and I knew it would for a long time.
“So I'm gonna let you go home today. But! If anything like this happens again, or if you have symptoms of low-level seizure activity, you need to contact us,” he pointed out.
“What symptoms would that be?” Richard asksed, looking like he was about ready to take notes.
“Shaky hands or feet or repetitive movements, sudden changes in emotion, feeling like time suddenly slows down or speeds up, feeling like things smell or taste differently. Um... difficulty speaking, dizziness, or changes in vision. And staring spells, like you completely zone out. To mention a few.”
“Well, if zoning out is a symptom of seizures, she's been having them for as long as I've known her,” Richard muttered dryly, and I gave a little chuckle. “Sorry, I shouldn't make jokes,” he apologized to the doctor.
“If you can easily shake her out of that state it isn't a seizure. If you can't, call this ward. I'll get you a contact number you can call if something comes up.”
“Good, thank you,” I said with a grateful nod.
“I'll get the nurses to sort out the discharge papers. When those are ready you're free to go,” he said with a final smile. “Any questions?” I shook my head, not having any, and the doctor left. I got out of bed and grabbed the bag Richard had brought, and went to the bathroom to change into comfy sweatshirt trousers and a t-shirt. I couldn't help but smile when I discovered a bar of curly-wurly in the bottom of the bag, a little surprise gift. Leaving the bathroom I dropped the now empty bag on the floor and sat down on the bed, waving the chocolate at Richard.
“Thank you,” I smiled. Richard got out of his chair and sat down next to me on the bed, wrapping his arm around me.
“You're welcome,” he whispered, leaning in for a kiss. Having missed him all night, I kissed him back, slowly and deeply. We got lost in our kisses for a moment, so much so that we didn't even hear the knock on the door. A surprised voice was what snapped us back to reality.
“Oh, sorry!” In the doorway stood a nurse with papers in her hand, looking flustered.
“No, we're sorry,” I said with a blush and an apologetic smile.
“Lizzie was right, you two really can't keep your hands off each other,” she observed, shaking her head.
“Lizzie? The nurse from the night shift?” I asked, and the nurse nodded. She handed me my discharge papers, wished me a speedy recovery, and bade us farewell. “All right, let's get out of here,” I said impatiently. Two minutes after having sat down in the car, I fell asleep, and Richard had to gently rouse me awake when we were back at his house. In the hallway, I was eagerly greeted by the dogs, and I gave them all pets and kisses.
“Want a cup of tea?” Richard called from the kitchen.
“Yes, please,” I called back, sitting on the second-to-bottom step of the stairs surrounded by happy dogs. With a groan, I got up and shuffled into the kitchen to sit down by the kitchen table. My phone was lying on it, and not having looked at it since yesterday evening I picked it up, read the news, and caught up on messages. To my surprise, I found a message from Jeremy. “Glad to hear you're okay. Let me know how you're doing, yeah? X Jezza”. Richard placed a cup of tea in front of me, kissed the top of my head, and sat down opposite me. “Aaw, Jeremy sent me a text,” I said, looking up at Richard for a second.
“Oh?” He looked at me over his cup of tea.
“Yeah, just... wanting to know how I'm doing. He even ended it with X Jezza.”
“He can be nice sometimes. When he wants to. And he's rather fond of you, you know,” Richard observed. “Ron?”
“Hmm?” I looked up from my phone.
“I was thinking... maybe we could invite Jezza and James over tomorrow night like we talked about? Just have some food, a few drinks? They'd like to see you.”
“Do they?”
“Yeah, of course they do! Just look at that text!” Richard said. “You have to stop thinking that nobody cares about you. They're not just my friends, Ronja, they're yours too. But only if you're up for having visitors,” he added as an afterthought.
“Yeah, that sounds good, invite them,” I said after a moment's thought. “If I'm having a bad day or need to have an early night I guess they'd understand?”
“They will, they remember how I was after my accident, which was much the same,” he nodded.
“Okay then, yeah.” I gave Richard a smile. “But... How much do they know?” I added as an afterthought, my smile sliding off my face.
"About what?" He looked at me, not understanding.
“About.... our... drama, and... things,” I said slowly, gesturing to the air between us, choosing my words carefully. By the look on his face, I already knew some of them had to know something.
“Well... All right, I will admit that I've had a conversation or two with James about... our drama,” he admitted, echoing my choice of words, looking a little apprehensive.
“With James? Really?” That surprised me, as I thought maybe Jezza had been the more obvious choice. I guessed he'd have more experience with relationships and drama than James.
“Yeah. I don't know, I guess I thought he's with a Norwegian girl, I want to be with a Norwegian girl...”
“So you went to the expert on Norwegian girls?” I snorted and raised an eyebrow at him, making him laugh.
“All right, fine, when you put it like that it sounds ridiculous,” he conceded. “But I know they, he and Emily, have had their ups and downs too. There was some big drama, he suddenly bailed on her, she was about a week away from giving up on him and England completely and moving back to Norway. He didn't know about her moving, but I did.”
“Why the hell did you know and not him?” I interrupted, a little confused.
“I went to talk to her, something was clearly up with James and I was worried about him. And she seemed like the person to talk to, the one closest to James at the time. So I went to her and she told me what was going on. Anyway, in the end, I chose to break a confidence and told James what Emily had told me. At least it made him come to his senses... It was a really rough patch.”
“Ooofh, wow,” I mumbled. “Why the hell did he bail? No, I'm sorry, none of my business,” I hastened to add, waving my hands.
“The age difference. It was a really sore spot for James, he couldn't see past it. He thought she deserved someone better. Younger.”
“Aha... Well, I must admit she was quite a bit younger than I thought...”
“A bit?” It was Richards's turn to raise an eyebrow.
“Anyway,” I waved, trying to steer the conversation back on track. “So you've talked to James about.. us? Me?”
“Yeah... but just recently really, after I ... blew up in your face and left the hospital. And after I found out you'd been discharged. I talked to him on the phone, told him... That you kept pushing me away, being stubborn, how frustrated I was, how I felt about you, but that I hadn't really told you in so many words what those feelings were.” He looked apologetic as he talked, like he was regretting having talked about our problems to someone else.
“It's okay, Richard. I get that you needed someone to talk to, I wasn't being very.... easy to relate to,” I admitted, fiddling with the handle on my cup of tea.
“Anyway, he didn't seem that surprised, really. James is usually oblivious to the subtle human things going on around him, but it sounded like he'd had a suspicion about us. He was glad to hear you were here with me now, though.”
“So none of them are going to be very surprised, then,” I mumbled in conclusion, mostly to myself.
“What? Does Jezza know anything?” Richard looked at me in surprise.
“Yeah, we... may have had a conversation or two about you... and me. Kind of.”
“Really? When??” He raised a curious eyebrow.
“Believe me, I wouldn't have seen that coming either. The first one was in Uganda, he basically told me that he thought you were a bit of a mess, how you could be too impulsive, and that he didn't want either of us getting hurt. He was just a mate looking out for his friend. It was that morning after you'd slept in my tent. It was a weird morning, really...”
“And what did you say?”
“The usual. That we were just friends and that I could take care of myself, that was basically it. That I was trying to look out for my mate the same way he was.”
“So he was afraid of what, exactly? That I'd make you the rebound or something and end up hurting you?” He asked, trying to decipher the conversation.
“Basically, I guess, I think that's what he meant, he didn't say in so many words,” I shrugged.
“And the second conversation?” Richard prompted, even more curious now.
“He found me outside at that summer party for Top Gear in London. I was swearing loudly, out of cigarettes, because I'd spent most of the evening out there on that balcony smoking, and avoiding... well, you,” I admitted with a sad little shrug. “And again he starts with these vague, cryptic insinuations, basically saying that he knew I was out there because I was avoiding you and your date. And somewhere in there, I referred to our chat in Africa saying “Well at least I didn't hurt him...” Then he just asks me “but did he hurt you?” And the question caught me by surprise, so before I knew it I'd given him an honest answer.” I kept fiddling with my cup of tea as I told Richard some of this, we'd never talked about these situations before.
“And what did you tell him?”
“I said... “only because I let him.”
“Oh, Ron..! I'm sorry...” He looked at me apologetically, sad to hear that he had hurt me. He bounded out of his chair, moved around the table to the chair next to me, and wrapped his arms tightly around me.
“No no no, don't start, it's fine, everything's fine. Now, at least,” I assured him, but hugged him back with my good arm and kissed his cheek. When he pulled back from me again he still looked sorry.
“I was a dick that night,” he muttered ashamedly.
“At the very least you were thinking with it,” I said exasperatedly, and he flinched, then nodded in agreement. “Anyway, Jeremy proceeded to berate me for not taking care of myself as I had promised I would. Then he gave me an ultimatum: I either had to get used to seeing you with somebody else, or I had to be honest and fess up to you, how I felt about you. I tried the former, but that was way too hard so I chose the cowardly third option Jeremy hadn't mentioned, and just... ran away.”
“Only after making me jealous with that... guy from the crew,” Richard muttered darkly.
“Liam was incredibly nice to me. But all I could think of while we were talking was you anyway, it wasn't fair on him. And it hurt so much because you had that date on your arm that night. You and I had just been in Italy together, and suddenly you were with her all night, not speaking to me once, and I couldn't stop thinking about it. Feeling so jealous I wanted to kill her. After I had strangled you."
"I'm so sorry about that, Ronja, about that night, for spending time with her and not with you," he said quietly, hanging his head in shame. "I don't know what I was thinking. She wasn't even a date, really, I just ran into her at that party, we'd met at parties a few times while I was still married, and-"
"Richard, don't, you don't have to explain," I cut him off, placing a hand on his arm to stop him from talking. "Honestly I'm not even sure I want to know," I added as an afterthought.
"Yes, I do have to explain, I owe you that much," he sighed, forcing himself to meet my eyes. "I don't know what I was thinking. Maybe I was just... trying to get you jealous, force some reaction out of you. Which is a childish way to act," he flinched. "And despite what you might think... I didn't sleep with her. Not that night, nor any other night." At this, I frowned at him, a little surprised.
"No?" I asked, trying to keep the suspicion in my voice to a minimum.
"No..." Richard shook his head slowly, then leaned closer to me, resting his forehead against mine. "She wasn't who I wanted, anyway. You were." He brushed his nose against mine a few times before straightening up, meeting my eyes again. “Again, I'm sorry, Ron. For that time, and every other time I was a dick or a coward. Or jealous when I had no right to be. I vaguely remember knocking on your hotel room that night, burning with jealousy, expecting to see Liam in your bed and the thought of it was killing me, but I was drunk and stupid and I had no right to, I'm sorry.” As an apology, he gave me a long, lingering kiss, which I returned with the same level of emotion. Wanting him to know that I believed him and that I had forgiven him.
“It's okay, baby.” I caressed his cheek. “We were really stupid, the both of us. But it's in the past, we can't do anything about it now anyway, right?" Looking intently at Richard, he nodded slowly in agreement. "That being said, I'm really glad you didn't shag her," I added with a growl, making Richard chuckle a little. I gave a snort of laughter too and kissed Richard's forehead. Somehow I felt lighter, like the air has cleared a little between us, even though I hadn't really known we had anything to clear up. "But what do we do about tomorrow? Do we like... make an announcement or something?”
“Let's just see what happens. If it doesn't come up naturally, we can always tell them,” Richard shrugged.
“Tell them what?” I challenged. I wanted him to say it, to say the words. I had referred to him as my boyfriend a few times in the hospital, but I hadn't heard him say it yet. Richard smiled, looking happy.
“That we are boyfriend and girlfriend,” he said, almost blushing, but still looking proud and happy.
“We are?” I gasped, pretending to look surprised. But my heart was swelling with joy at these words.
“We so bloody are,” he said quietly and gave me another long, lingering kiss.
“We fought hard for this, didn't we?” I sighed, looking intently at him.
“Probably a lot harder than we needed to, right?” He asked, giving me another kiss.
“Yeah,” I admitted with a little snort. “I'm not used to being loved, and you were scared of falling in love again. So we've been a mess. But we're here now. But, Hammond, I really need to go lie down, I didn't get many hours of sleep last night.”
“You do that. I'll go call Jezza and James, and then maybe I'll join you for a bit.”

The next day I was standing in the kitchen leaning on the counter, staring at my phone, waiting for Richard to return from his shower, and for Jeremy and James to arrive. I felt a little nervous, wondering how they would react to our “news”. They probably wouldn't be surprised in the slightest, but apart from that, what would they say? Will they accept me into the fold? Hearing footsteps I raised my eyes off the phone, spotting Richard entering the kitchen.
“Richard!” I exclaimed loudly, and he froze in his tracks, obviously having no idea why I had shouted at him. He stayed stock still, looking at me as I stared at him for an unnatural amount of time.
“What is it? What's wrong?” He asked, still not daring to move, as if he'd just missed stepping on a landmine. I sighed, rubbing my hands over my face. “What have I done?” He asked, his voice weak with pleading now.
“You can't... You can't dress like that tonight,” I moaned, looking at him through my fingers.
“Why!? What's wrong with it?” He straightened up and looked himself over, arms outreached, utterly confused.
“That tight, white v-neck t-shirt, those ripped jeans, that color cardigan, your hair still damp... If I didn't have several broken bones in my body right now, you would be upstairs, naked, in a minute flat.” Richard froze, looking at himself and his outfit, then looking at me, screwing up his face with bemused confusion.
“Really?” he said, raising his eyebrows incredulously.
“Yes. I... I just can't, with you looking that way,” I groaned, rubbing my face, obscuring him from view. He'd worn that plum-colored cardigan around me before, and it always made it impossible for me to focus on anything besides him. My hands were still across my face, and I heard his steps coming closer.
“So is that your rather dramatic way of saying I look kinda good in this?” he asked. I felt his hands on my sides.
“Kinda good?” I squeaked weakly, finally opening my eyes to look at him. “You've worn that cardigan around me before and it has made me unable to string words into sentences. You... Fuck,” I moaned, then buried my face against his neck, hugging him, taking in the newly showered scent of him and his cologne. “You can't look like that tonight, I won't be able to concentrate on anything anyone is saying, or be able to keep my hands off you.”
“Wow... you really are frustrated, aren't you?” He gave a slight giggle, kissing my temple.
“Richard, do you have any idea how long I've had the hots for you?” I complained.
“So I can only walk around in a burka now?” He chuckled.
“No, don't be silly. I just... there's sometimes I look at you and I just want you so badly it hurts.”
“I'll go and change into a baggy boiler suit, how's that? I'm sure I have one out in a shed somewhere,” he proffered.
“Shut up. This is just me being... frustrated,” I mumbled. “I'd fancy you in a baggy boiler suit too.”
“You do know I'm yours now, right? And only yours?” He said quietly, kissing my temple again.
“I'm not sure I believe you,” I sulked. Part of me still wasn't quite sure this was really happening. Me and Hammond. Maybe I was still in a coma in a hospital somewhere. He leaned in, his lips inches from mine.
“You better believe it,” he said quietly, kissing me. Suddenly I felt his arms grab hold of me and he gently lifted me up, placing me on the kitchen counter. Automatically, as if we'd done this a hundred times before, my legs fell open so he could come closer, he wrapped his arms around my waist and I wrapped mine around his shoulders. We kept kissing each other, slowly and deeply, his tongue finding mine sometimes. His palms ran down my back, over my hips and thighs, then back up again, fingers digging into me. I wrapped my legs around his hips and pushed him up against me, running my tongue against his. He hummed, breathing heavier, and I could feel him becoming hard against me. I knew we had to stop, we were just making each other frustrated for no reason. I was spared the effort of having to tear myself away from him, the doorbell suddenly ringing did that for me. We'd been so caught up in our make-out session we'd been oblivious to the sounds of cars coming up the gravel driveway, car doors slamming or footsteps coming up to the front door. “Thank fuck they didn't just barge in,” Richard muttered, then gently helped me back down onto the floor. I looked him over, trying to straighten his clothing and flatten his hair, and he pulls my top down to where it had been five minutes ago. The doorbell rang again. “Bloody hell, I need a cold shower,” Richard groaned, frustratedly adjusted himself in his jeans, then headed for the front door to let Jeremy and James in. All the dogs had already lined up, ready to eagerly pounce on whoever was out there. Chaos ensued as the door was opened and James and Jeremy came inside, carrying bags of takeout and what I presumed was some form of alcohol in copious quantities. I remained in the background, letting the dogs and Richard greet the visitors first. Having finished with the hellos, Jeremy trundled into the kitchen and deposited his bags on the kitchen table, then turned his attention to me.
“There she is! Our miracle lady!” He said loudly, smiling and giving me a big teddy bear of a hug, but thankfully on the side of me void of broken ribs.
“Oi, you never called me the miracle man when I had my accident!” Richard protested.
“She sat in the back of a cab and got hit by a bus through no fault of her own. You crashed a jet car by being an incompetent, clumsy fool,” Jeremy argued.
“My tire exploded!” Richard shouted loudly.
“Shut up,” Jeremy waved disinterestedly, not looking at him. “How are you?” He asked in a much milder voice, looking at me kindly.
“A bit better every day,” I smiled bravely.
"Good, glad to hear," he smiled. Jeremy moved out of the way, giving way to James who also wrapped his arms around me.
“That one was from Emily, too,” he said, then released me from his hug.
“Aw, tell her thank you,” I smiled, not quite used to all this fussing and attention.
“You look a lot better than last time I saw you.”
“Yeah, not so much Two-Face anymore, huh?” I smirked, remembering what he'd called me in the hospital.
“Hmm sorry, that one was a bit mean actually,” James mumbled apologetically.
“But funny. And not entirely inaccurate,” I smiled.
“Come on, people, come get your food, before it goes cold,” Jeremy ordered, taking boxes of Indian food out of plastic bags and distributing them on the table. Richard busied himself with finding plates, cutlery, and glasses, weaving through the pack of dogs on his way to and from the cupboards and the kitchen table. Deciding I wasn't having this chaos, I opened the door to the dogs' room.
“Oi. You lot. Get in here,” I said sternly, but am thoroughly ignored, the smells of chicken, rice, and garlic naan being far more interesting. Fine, bribery then, I thought to myself, opening a cupboard and taking out a glass jar of dog biscuits. I shook it vigorously, and the familiar sound caught their attention. They started trailing into the room, milling around me expectantly. Trying not to be too obvious, I sidled over to the door and closed the lower half of it. “Haha, suckers,” I smiled, but opened the jar and gave them a biscuit each for being good boys and girls. “Now go lay down, all of you. Even you, Crusoe,” I admonished, giving the border collie an extra scratch behind the ears. Returning to the kitchen I closed the door behind me, calm now restored. The other three had sat down and were shuffling boxes around, trying to figure out what they contained and which box belonged to who. Sitting down next to Richard I was handed a takeout box from Jeremy, and James plonked a beer in front of me. “Thank you,” I smiled. We busied ourselves with loading up our plates for a moment.
“So,” Jeremy says, tearing a naan in half. “When did you get out of the hospital? Today?” I was just about to answer when I spotted James' confused expression, him looking from me to Jeremy and back again.
“Wait, what? You've been in hospital again?” He asked nonplussed.
“Oh shit, I never told you about this, did I!” Jeremy suddenly realized, clapping a hand to his mouth.
“No?!” James said, sounding exasperated. Then he looked over at me, waiting for an explanation. “So, what happened?” I gave a little shrug.
“Well, I had a little... spell, went a bit unconscious, scared the life out of Hammond again...” I said a little hesitantly, rolling my eyes, wishing we could talk about something other than my health for a second. But James deserved to know what happened.
“You're making a bad habit out of that lately, scaring me senseless,” Richard mumbled darkly, and I felt a subtle hand against my hip. “A bit unconscious, Ron?” He prompted, obviously thinking I had downplayed what had happened quite heavily.
“Yeah all right,” I waved at him. “I was upstairs in the bathroom, Richard was down here, then I thundered to the floor like a sack of potatoes. Was unconscious for, what, about 45 minutes?” I raised a quizzical eyebrow at Richard.
“At least,” he said pointedly. “Felt like forever.”
“Unconscious? Did you hit your head again falling down?” James asked, looking concerned.
“Yeah, a bit, I think I clipped a cabinet on the way down,” I said, pointing at the little gash on my forehead. “But that wasn't what made me stay out of it for so long. I was hoping it was just a blood-pressure drop or something, but the doctors think I might've had a seizure. But they checked me out, MRIs and EEGs and everything. They couldn't see any more seizure activity or obvious reasons for me having a seizure.”
“So they think that seizure is a consequence of you hitting your head in the accident?” Jeremy asked, having swallowed his food.
“Yeah, basically,” I sighed. “I just really, really hope it doesn't happen ever again, the thought of getting epilepsy is incredibly depressing,” I complained, moodily pushing food around my plate with the fork.
“I can see why,” James said, compassion in his voice. “I'm glad you're okay. But next time this one,” he continued, pointing at me, “goes into hospital unconscious, can someone please remember to inform me?” He then pointed at the other two, who were both not dutifully. "I do care about her." At this sentiment, I got a jolt of joy.
“Now, can we please stop talking about my stupid injured brain and body and talk about something else? Something marginally happier?” I pleaded, looking around at all three.
“Yes, all right,” Jeremy agreed, nodding along with the other two. Thankfully the conversation turned to more everyday things, upcoming plans, cars they needed to review, which inevitably resulted in the usual, amicable bickering. At one point Richard laughed loudly, and I looked over at him, feeling hordes of butterflies taking flight in my stomach at how good he looked and how much I was in love with him. I had to fight the urge to kiss him, or just run my hand over his thigh. I didn't want to become the center of attention again, right now I was just enjoying listening to the other three tease each other, making jokes. It made life seem marginally normal again, my life had felt nothing like my own ever since the accident. Having finished with our food, we did a quick clean-up and relocated to the living room. Before I joined them I took pity on the dogs and let them out of their prison. They charged into the living room and reintroduced themselves to James and Jeremy, who had sat down on one of the sofas, beers in hand. I sank down into the other sofa next to Richard with a beer of my own, but not as close as I would have done if we were alone. The dogs started settling down around us, laying down in their dog beds scattered around the living room floor. Richard looked at me, and I could tell by a twitch of his arm that he had been a millisecond away from taking my hand, but managed to stop himself. The lively chat continued for another half hour or so, but then, in a lull in the conversation, Jeremy cleared his throat, the way he did when he was about to say something important.
“Now, can we have a minute to talk about the elephant in the room?” He said, looking from Richard to me, then over to James.
“Who? You?” James quipped. Richard and I laughed, but Jeremy just sniffed.
“Shut up,” he bit back. “No, I'm talking about you... And you,” he said, squinting, pointing at Richard, then me. I felt my insides go a little cold, nerves flaring up in me. Here it came. “I have two questions,” Jeremy began. “First of all, have you two...” he continued, still gesturing between Richard and me with his massive hand. “Have you two managed to be honest with yourselves for once in your lives and admit to yourselves that you are absolutely, completely, stupidly mad about each other?” I looked from Jeremy to Richard, feeling myself blushing, fiddling nervously with the beer bottle in my hand. Richard gave an awkward little shrug and opened his mouth, about to answer, but Jeremy held up a hand, silencing him.
“And secondly, and more importantly,” Jeremy droned on. “Have you two poor, blind, bumbling idiots managed to sit down and have an actual, civilized conversation with each other about it? Like, oh I don't know, actual adults?” He raised an eyebrow at us, signaling that we were now free to answer. Richard squared his shoulders, straightened up, and broke out into a wide smile, looking like a proud schoolboy.
“Yes, we have, actually!” He said, looking over at me, full of pride. Jeremy raised his hands in the air.
“Hallelujah, thank you baby Jeezus for small miracles,” he said loudly, looking immensely relieved.
“About damn bloody time,” James mumbles, mostly to himself.
“Well, I don't know how civilized it was,” I piped up, looking from Jeremy over to Richard. “I banged down your door and shouted loudly at you, then cried for a solid hour,” I admitted.
“Yes, a bit, but,” Richard said impatiently. “After that, we had a pretty good chat. Several of them, actually.”
“Yeah, we did,” I agreed, smiling at him, finally being able to let my love for him show in my smile and in my eyes. We just looked at each other, getting a little lost in each other's gazes.
“SO?” Jeremy said loudly, snapping us back to reality.
“So?” Richard asked, pretending to be dim. Jeremy flapped his arms about, frustrated.
“So what now? Are you two like... boyfriend and girlfriend now?” He took a run-up to the words boyfriend and girlfriend, saying them very quickly, almost under his breath, like he often did with words he finds a little embarrassing to say out loud.
“I don't know, are we?” Richard looked at me with a puzzled frown, keeping up the act of being dim.
“I haven't really thought about it..” I said slowly, giving a little shrug, playing along with Richard.
“YES, you bloody well better be, or I am going to have a coronary! You two have been faffing around each other since the week you bloody met, both of you, and I am fed up to the back teeth with it!” Jeremy shrieked. Richard and I both looked away from Jeremy and at each other, looking confused. On the inside, I was laughing, loving the chance to rile Jeremy up.
“So... if we are, does that mean that I'm allowed to kiss you now?” Richard said, doing a good job of looking utterly befuddled.
“I don't know...? It must do, I guess...?” I shrugged. Unable to keep it up any longer, Richard placed a hand on the side of my face, his thumb caressing my cheek. Leaning in, he gave me a tentative, slow kiss, as if it really was the first time he was kissing me. And I kissed him back just as tenderly, completely forgetting for a moment that James and Jeremy were there. Then we couldn't hold it in any longer, and we just started giggling at each other's lips. Breaking away from each other, I could finally inch up to Richard as close as I wanted to. He received me with open arms, and I wrapped an arm around his waist and rested my head on his shoulder, leaning into him. Then we both looked at Jeremy.
“Yes, Jeremy,” I said with a laugh. “You can simmer down, take a deep breath. Yes, we're together now.” I looked lovingly up at Richard, who just smiled back and gave my temple a kiss. Jeremy slumped dramatically back on the sofa as if completely exhausted.
“Thank god,” he said weakly, rubbing his face tiredly with his hands. “You know, I'm sure doing brain surgery would be easier than getting you two together.”
“And I thought me and Emily made a bit of a hash of it, getting together,” James observed.
“Oh no, you two were practically professional next to these two,” Jeremy said, pointing at us with his beer bottle.
“All right, all right,” Richard said exasperatedly, closing his eyes for a second, having had enough of the bollocking. “Yes, we fumbled around for a bit-”
“A BIT?” Jeremy squealed, raising his eyebrows. “When was the first time you two started calling each other 'love', eh? Because I've overheard you call each other that many times, even if you think I haven't,” he said. Richard and I looked at each other, thinking back, and we didn't say anything, but we both made these awkward faces and shrugged at each other as we thought back, wordlessly realizing that we started that a long time ago. Around Christmas. Maybe even earlier. “Exactly,” Jeremy said smugly, correctly interpreting our expressions.
“Yes, ALL RIGHT, we fumbled around for a bit, but we're together now, so can we please, for the love of all that's holy, let it rest now?” He pleaded, the way he often pleaded with Jeremy to let things go.
"All right, fine, I'll leave it," Jeremy droned. "I just want it on the record that I knew this was going to happen as far back as us being in Uganda." He held up a finger.
"Yeah, that's about the time I realized I was fucked too," I laughed, squeezing Richard. At this, all three of them laughed.
"Fucked how?" James asked, taking a swig of his beer.
"That I'd fallen in love with this sod," I admitted, giving Richard a kiss on the neck. "Even though I tried to pretend for a long time that I wasn't."
"Honestly, Ronja, I think James and me knew that even before that," Jezza laughed.

“Ron? Ronja, wake up, love.” A hand squeezing my upper arm and a kiss on the forehead roused me awake.
“Muh, wha?” I mumbled and opened my eyes, suddenly remembering we had company. “Oh god, guys, I'm sorry!” I straightened up quickly and rubbed my eyes, feeling guilty for having conked out on them. “You're not boring, guys, I swear, I just...” But Jeremy waved me down.
“Don't worry about it, Ronja, you're recovering from brain injury. We've seen this before with your rather accident-prone boyfriend over there,” he said, giving Richard a teasing smile.
“Go to bed, get some sleep?” Richard suggested, squeezing me a little. I drew a deep sigh, disappointed about having to bow out on what had so far been a very pleasant evening. This constant need for sleep was really beginning to annoy me. And I wasn't drunk either, I'd had only two beers, thinking that seizures, pain medication, and alcohol probably wasn't the best combination.
“Yeah, all right,” I sighed, rubbing my tired face. “I'm sorry guys, this has been a really good night, I just have a toddler's capacity to stay awake these days,” I apologized, getting up from the sofa. Jeremy bounded out of the other sofa, waving his hands at me again to shut up. Then he wrapped his huge arms around me in a gentle hug.
“I said don't worry about it,” he said, patting my back. “Just get better.” He released me, and I sidled over to James to give him a quick hug too, giving him an apologetic look.
“It's fine, Ronja, really,” James assured me.
“Well... Good night, guys,” I said with another disappointed little sigh.
“Hey, where's my goodnight hug?” Richard said sulkily, getting out of the sofa just as Jeremy and James sat back down again. I smiled and shook my head slightly at him as I walked into his arms, giving him a kiss and a hug. “Good night, love,” he said quietly into my ear before letting me go. He remained standing on the floor, watching me as I left the living room, heading for the stairs, not wanting to let me go with his eyes.
“Wow, Richard, you really are in love, aren't you?” I heard Jeremy groan at Richard as I made my way upstairs, and I couldn't help but smile to myself. Shuffling into the bathroom I brushed my teeth, then took my clothes off and threw them on a chair in the bedroom. Deciding I couldn't be bothered with a t-shirt I crawled into bed in just my knickers. I was just about to nod off when I heard shuffling footsteps outside in the hallway. Richard opened the door and padded quietly across the bedroom floor, leaving the door slightly ajar. He crawled into the bed and inched up to me in the darkness, wrapping his arm around me.
“What are you doing? Didn't I just say goodnight to you?” I mumbled, feeling his kiss on the back of my neck.
“I'm tucking you in,” he said quietly, giving my neck another kiss.
“Aha...” I hummed, smiling to myself in the dark. “Are you checking up on me?”
“Mmmaybe,” he admitted hesitantly. I turned around to face him, and from the light in the hallway, I could see his eyes in the darkened bedroom. That concerned look was on him again. Giving him a slightly exasperated look I sighed at him and cupped his cheek with my hand, running my thumb over his skin. “What if you have a seizure in your sleep and I'm not here?” He fretted.
“Stop that, I've decided I'm not going to have any more of those, okay?” I reassured him.
“You can't decide that, Ron,” he said darkly. “I go crazy worrying about you, okay? I even thought of buying one of those baby monitor thingies with a camera on it so I can keep an eye on you if you're sleeping alone...” He admitted, pulling a slightly embarrassed face, being well aware this was a bit extreme.
“Richard, you are NOT going to watch me sleep on a baby monitor, you weird pervert!” I exclaimed, slapping him on the arm. Despite himself, he chuckled. “Besides, I'm not having you spying on me when I have wet dreams about you,” I continued, wanting to keep the smile on Richard's face.
“Well, maybe I'd like to see that, maybe?” He challenged, a flirty look on his face. I raised an eyebrow at him, then I wrapped my duvet around him, inching right up to him, deciding to be a little mean. Wrapping his arm around me he felt that I didn't have any top or bra on, and he groaned with frustration.
“You've already seen that, actually...” I admitted to him, biting my lower lip.
“... What? Have I? When?” He squeaked, then frowned, thinking hard.
“Remember that time you and I fell asleep in the guest bedroom here? You'd just broken up with Jasmine, you and I had been fighting, and we'd just made up?” I watched Richard rack his brains for a moment. “Anyway, that night you shook me awake, I'd been tossing and turning or something. You were convinced I was having a nightmare?” Richard's face suddenly changed, the memory obviously coming back to him.
“Yeah, yeah, I remember that!” He said, looking at me with wide eyes. “Wait, that wasn't a nightmare?”
“Nnnno,” I admitted slowly, shaking my head. “I was dreaming about shagging you, actually. A very vivid, realistic, hot... dream.”
“You're joking.” Richard said flatly, not believing me.
“No, I'm not!” I laughed. “I still remember it, every detail. We'd just gotten to the good part too, you being inside me.”
“Ronja, you can't talk like that now! I have to go back down to the two baboons downstairs and try to have a civil conversation in a minute!” Richard groaned, closing his eyes, and I couldn't help but laugh at him.
“You were so sweet, too! Convinced I was having a nightmare, holding me and comforting me, trying to calm me down. And meanwhile, I was lying there with my heart going a hundred miles a minute, with a throbbing pussy and my knickers soaked. All I could think of was how I wanted to straddle you and ride you like a Hayabusa,” I chuckled, being able to see the hilarity in the situation now, looking back. Richard laughed loudly, screwing up his eyes, then his hand disappears from my back, but only to rub his own face frustratedly.
“You are very mean for telling me this now, when I have to go back downstairs,” Richard complained again.
“Hey, you're the one who gets to stay up and have fun with your mates, while I have to go to bed like a child. This is my revenge,” I smirked at him. “But you're right, you better get downstairs before they think we're having a quickie up here,” I admonished, my lips a few inches from his.
“They already think that anyway,” Richard hummed, then gave me a long, slightly frantic kiss. In the end, I had to gently push him away and nudge him out of bed.
“Now go,” I said sternly, pushing him all the way out of bed with my leg.
“Yeah, yeah, I'm going,” he muttered sourly. Reaching the bedroom door he stopped for a second. “So that's a no on the baby monitor?”
“Hard no, Hammond.”

Chapter Text

I vaguely registered the sound of Richard returning with the dogs, having taken them for a long walk. After that I heard him potter about the house, disappearing upstairs for a while, then coming back down and disappearing outside again. I was too caught up in my book to really wonder what he was up to. That was until my book suddenly started floating upwards and away from me.
“Ron... you look like you need to have a nap again,” Richard said quietly, gently closing the book and putting it down on the table next to me.
“Nooo, I don't want to, I'm so sick of naps!” I complained childishly, stomping my foot on the floor.
“I know, I know,” he sighed. “But you're white as a sheet again.” I gave him an offended look and huff.
"All right, all right, fine,” I groaned, getting stiffly out of my chair. Richard held out his hand to me, and I took it, my expression being one of a child being forced by a parent to go to bed. I began walking towards the stairs to go to the bedroom, but he held me back, heading in another direction. “Wasn't I supposed to go take a nap?” I asked.
“Yes, you are,” he confirmed.
“But the beds live upstairs...?” I asked confusedly, pointing upwards, but he just kept leading me towards the door to the back of the house and the back garden. “What, I'm taking a nap outside?” I frowned. Not answering, he just lead me out onto the patio. Then I saw it. On the grass, in the shade of a huge tree, lay some big blankets with a duvet on top , and a pile of pillows. Aha, so this was what he'd been up to.
“It's a really lovely summer's day,” he said and left it at that. Reaching the duvet we let go of each other's hand and laid down. I immediately inched up close to him, rested my head on his arm and we wrap our arms around each other. “I thought we could lie here, you could have a nap, I could maybe read a bit, and we wouldn't miss out on this beautiful day,” he said quietly. “I know you're bored, bored of taking naps, and sick of being cooped up in this house all the time.”
“This is a really great idea. Thank you, love,” I smiled, running a thumb over his cheek, then gave him a grateful, slow kiss. We both forgot that I was supposed to sleep, and just kept kissing each other, slowly and lazily, caressing each other's backs and necks, needing to show our love for each other.
“You fucking liar!” My heart stopped when I heard a loud, angry voice somewhere behind my back. Richard froze completely, pulled away from me, then looked over me at who had spoken.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” he said angrily under his breath, then scrambled up from the duvet. I had recognized the voice immediately, instantly making my insides freeze. “Mindy? What the hell are you doing here?” Richard's voice was angry, and I debated whether or not to just stay here, lying with my back towards them, or at least sit up. Not wanting to be a coward I sat up and turned around. Richard had stopped on the grass 10 feet away from Mindy.
“I've tried texting and calling you for days and days now, but you won't fucking answer. I can't get hold of you, so then I have to show up here, haven't I?” She said loudly.
“Well, I've been a bit busy lately!” He replied tetchily.
“I can see that!” She said with a derisive snort, giving me a scathing look.
“Mindy, don't you fucking start with me, I am not having it right now! You have no idea what I've been going through lately!” He was properly angry now, in a way I hadn't seen before. We'd been angry at each other, shouting and yelling, but that had nearly always been out of frustration and love. This was a whole different type of anger. “Three weeks ago SHE almost died!” He said, gesturing towards me. Mindy's face fell a little, showing a little crack in the armor.
“What happened?”
“Remember that big accident in downtown London three weeks ago? A bus and a taxi? Two dead, one critically injured? Most of central London grinding to a halt?” He asked, a little calmer now.
“Yeah I do, vaguely... That was her?” She said incredulously.
“Yes, it was! Look at her, she's all black and blue! For five days I sat by her bedside while she was in a coma, and all I could think of was whether I was sitting on her deathbed or not. So I'm done, Mindy, I'm done wasting time. I'm done being considerate of your feelings, done waiting for you to be okay, for you to move on...” He counted off on his fingers.” I have wasted far too much time doing that, and because of it, I almost lost her, almost lost having any time with her. It's over, Mindy, I've moved on, okay?” Wanting to turn myself as small as possible I had drawn my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around them, even though it hurt a little. Acting like I wasn't even here. There was a pause.
“How long?” Mindy asked simply.
“What?” Richard sounded exasperated and confused.
“How long have you had feelings for her?” She demanded.
“Does it matter?” He shrugged. “I met her after we were separated anyway!”
“It matters to me!” She said shrilly, she was tearing up now. Part of me felt for her, she was obviously not doing okay with any of this. And they had slept together after Richard and I met, so I kind of understood her wanting to know, no matter how self-destructive it was.
“I don't know, Mindy,” Richard sighed, rubbing his temples. “It was a really complicated time and-” He abruptly stopped himself from talking. “You know what, I don't have to explain myself to you anymore. It's none of your business. Now, again, why the hell are you here?” For a minute she didn't say anything, she looked to be wrestling with her own tears and feelings. Then she held up an envelope.
“There are these papers, some insurance thing... You need to read them and sign it.”
“Okay, all right, I will,” Richard said sourly. She walked toward him and handed him the papers, and having received the envelope Richard immediately retreated a few steps back from her. This seemed to hurt her more than anything, the sight of her former husband backing away from her, not wanting anything to do with her. Her eyes landed on me, and she glared at me for far longer than I was comfortable with, to the point where I fully expected to be called a cunt again. Then her eyes shot back to Richard, anger flaring up in them.
“You are a fucking liar,” she hissed at him again, pointing an angry finger, then turned on her heels to leave. Equally shocked we just stared after her as she walked around the house and disappeared. Then Richard's shoulders visibly sagged and he moaned loudly, turned on his heels, and made his way back to me. With a heavy sigh, he sat down beside me, discarding the envelope on the grass. There was a moment's silence.
“I'm sorry about that, Ron,” he began, but I cut him off.
“Don't make excuses for her, Richard, that's not your job anymore.”
“No, you're right, it isn't,” he sighed, rubbing his temples again. “Why didn't I just answer her bloody texts? I should've known she would turn up here if I didn't,” he muttered, still rubbing his temples. All I could do was wrap my arms around him and kiss his hand. My touch took him out of his anguish, and he hugged me close. “I cannot believe she still thinks she has the right to barge into my house just because she was married to me once,” he complained quietly. “And it's my house, it was never... ours!” I pull away from him, run a thumb over his cheek, and give him a kiss.
“Well... She's not over you, that's for sure,” I pointed out quietly.
“I guess she's not,” he conceded, giving a little shrug. “Which makes me feel bad for her, she must be hurting, having a hard time. But we both wanted a divorce, we tried to fix it and couldn't, so...” He shrugged. For a fleeting second, I was wondering if the fact that Mindy still has feelings for him would change anything. Maybe he regretted the divorce now, thinking they should've given it another go? It was as if Richard could read these thoughts from the look on my face. “But I'm over it, Ronja. I'm done with her, the marriage, all of that. It's you now, okay? You and me.” He looked at me intently, wanting to make me believe him.
“Good,” I eventually said, giving him a smile, but inwardly feeling a little cruel towards his ex-wife.
“Now come on, come back here,” he said, lying down on the duvet again. "I'll be damned if I'm going to let her ruin this day." Never getting enough of being close to him, I inched back into his arms. We kissed a few times, then I rested my head against his shoulder, burying my face against his neck. In the long silence that followed, all that could be heard was the twittering of birds and the soft breeze through the trees.
“Richard?”
“Mm?” He answered, sounding half asleep.
“How long have you had feelings for me?” I asked, not being able to get Mindy's question out of my head. I knew I might be putting him on the spot, but I asked anyway.
“Oh... Hmm...” He pauses, thinking. “Well, if I'm really honest with myself, I think they came after that first time you were over here with Sprocket. Or at least by the 3^rd or 4^th time you came around. I couldn't get you out of my head, and was always sad when you were leaving, trying to come up with reasons for you to stay. But I was a mess, and I couldn't figure out if the feelings were real or if I was just... desperate for comfort or a distraction or … something.”
“Yeah, you were a bit of a mess,” I agreed, but not unkindly, giving him a squeeze.
“But the moment I became absolutely sure what I was feeling for you was real, was when I busted my nose,” he continued. “You were the first thing I thought about when I came to, the only one I wanted to see.” I raised my head off his shoulder and looked at him.
“Aaaw,” I crooned and ran my thumb over his cheek again.
“And what about you?” He asked.
“Probably from the moment you let me drive that DB9 on the track,” I smirked, and he chuckles.
“Come on, be serious,” he demanded, nudging me, wanting me to answer honestly.
“Hmm... Honestly?”
“Yes, honestly!” He said a little impatiently.
“I think it was on some really awful, dusty road somewhere in Uganda. We were having a transport day, not filming anything, so I could catch a ride in the Subaru with you. And we were listening to music, singing and joking around about god knows what, and you laughed and looked over at me. And my stomach did this massive back-flip on itself and I just thought:” as I explained this I closed my eyes tightly, re-enacting the thoughts I'd had in my head. “And I thought '...FUCK. FUCK FUCK. Fuuuuck, you've had it! It's too late now.' And that was that.” I finished with a sigh. Richard looked a little surprised.
“Africa, that was a long time ago, Ronja,” he said seriously, obviously a little taken aback at how long I'd been thinking about him.
“Tell me about it,” I moaned, rolling my eyes at him. “Even if I knew, at that moment... I tried to bury it, did everything I could to ignore it, even hoping it was just this... stupid crush that would blow over. Because you... You were lost, and a bit of a mess. And I was so scared that if... If I said anything, and you didn't feel the same way... Or if something happened between us, like it almost did at Christmas, and it was too soon, and you weren't ready... I guess I was just so scared of losing you as a friend, too. So I sort of... settled. Settled for you being my best mate, and not anything more. Or I tried to, anyway.”
“I'll never forget the first time I kissed you,” he said, looking at me sincerely. “That time at Christmas.”
“Oh yeah?” I challenged. “So you remember that?”
“Of course I do! I know I was a bit drunk, and you were too, but... You stopped me, but I just wanted to keep kissing you,” he admitted.
“Do you really think I wanted to stop you?” I said. “When you kissed me, I thought I'd die of excitement. But I knew we were drunk, and I was worried you'd wake up the next morning with a hangover, regretting it, and maybe regretting whatever else might have happened after that. And I just couldn't handle the thought of that happening. Maybe we'd never get past it and I'd end up losing you as a mate. But stopping you was one of the hardest things I've ever made myself do.”
“God, I wanted you so much, then. Like I did before then. And like I do now. It just took me a while to be sure of my own feelings,” Richard shrugged, looking apologetic.
“Do you remember that morning after? You made me breakfast and coffee. And I couldn't stop staring at you, willing you to kiss me again.”
“Yeah I remember, and all I could think about was wrapping my arms around you and pulling you back into that bed and kissing you for a whole day.”
“And why didn't you?” I asked, pinching his bum.
“I... I don't know. You stopped me the day before. And that made me unsure that you wanted me to. And unsure of my own feelings. I was overthinking everything, basically,” he shrugged.
“I told you I didn't really want you to stop, but that we were both drunk and it was kinda the wrong moment.”
“Yeah I know.. and maybe you were right, maybe it wasn't the right moment, or maybe I wasn't ready. But I couldn't sleep for hours that night, you slept heavily in my arms and all I wanted was to make out with you and take off your clothes and .. you know.”
“Shag me?”
“Oh god, I think the first time I wanted to shag you was in that DB9,” he laughed.
“Talk about going slow and steady..” I mumbled.
“Jeez, we have been running circles around each other forever,” he sighged, and I couldn't help but chuckle, which caused him to giggle too. Then he broke out into a wide smile.
“God we had fun on that trip in Africa, though! I have very fond memories of those car rides with you back then. And after that, when we were out on a shoot like that and we just had a transport leg I always missed you, having you in my car,” he admitted.
“I miss it too, being on an adventure with you,” I smiled, giving him a kiss.
“Well, you and me, we can go on all the adventures we want together as soon as you're mended,” he promised. “But now you need to have that nap, missy.” He tried to look like a stern parent, and I chuckled at his failed attempt.
“All right, I will,” I sighed, give him another kiss and resting my head back down on his shoulder. After a moment's silence, I muttered sarcastically, half asleep: “At least you were spared the awkward conversation with Mindy about you and me.” He gave an ironic laugh.
“There's the silver lining,” he sighed.

Chapter Text

“Richard?” I called from the bedroom, my heart already beating fast in my chest. I had just had a shower, he was downstairs watching telly. And while being in the shower I had made a decision: I just couldn't wait any longer. Every day for the past two weeks, every day since I came back here to tell him what I felt had been like slow torture. Constantly being close to him, holding him, caressing and kissing him, but never being able to let it go any further. It felt like that last missing piece of the puzzle, that last thing that needed to happen before I could maybe, finally, let myself believe this was really happening.
"Yeah?” I heard him call from downstairs.
“Could you come up here a minute?” I asked, trying to make my voice sweet and inviting. Listening intently, I heard the telly go quiet and his footsteps as he made his way upstairs to find me. He came into view in the doorway of the bedroom, dressed in a black v-neck t-shirt and slightly tatty, grey jeans. God, he looked good.
“What's up? Do you need anything?” He asked kindly, with the same look of concern I'd seen on him since the day I woke up in the hospital. Then his eyes swept over the room, spotting the candles I had managed to sneak downstairs to smuggle with me a few minutes ago. They were lit and placed out on a dresser and the nightstands and in the windowsill. Then his eyes landed on me in my bathrobe.
“I'm fine, just come in here,” I said quietly, standing by the foot of his bed. He entered the bedroom, padding across the bedroom floor,
“What do you need?” He asked again, but in a more pointed way, pinning me down with his eyes as he came to a halt in front of me.
“A kiss?” I asked simply, looking up at him. He smiled at this request then leaned in and gave me a soft kiss, his hand on the side of my face. I kissed him back deeply, wrapping my arm around him. I trailed kisses along his jaw and neck, making him hum. “I need... you,” I breathed against his skin. Hearing these words he breathed deeply, then swallowed hard, unable to answer for a moment.
“Are you sure you're... ready for that?” He asked quietly, then pulled away to look at me.
“I've never been more ready in my fucking life..." I sighed through slightly gritted teeth. "I'm losing my mind here, Hammond,” I admitted quietly, biting my lower lip as I looked into his eyes. “Just... be gentle, yeah?” He nodded slowly as he leaned in to kiss me deeply, promising with his lips he'd be gentle.
"God, you smell good," he sighed, nuzzling my neck for a moment.
"Mmm thank you," I hummed sweetly. Breaking our contact for a moment, I used my good arm to lift his t-shirt up, he helped me get it off and I threw it on the floor disinterestedly. Slowly, with slightly trembling hands, I undid his belt and the buttons on his jeans, both of us watching my hands doing so. I pulled them down past his hips and they fell to the floor only to be kicked away by Richard. He undid the belt on my bathrobe and it slipped open, revealing some of my body, and his breath hitched a little in his throat when he saw the black lace underwear I had on underneath. Slipping the bathrobe off my shoulders, it fell to the floor. I blushed underneath Richards unblinking stare.
“Remember these?” I smirked, waggling my hips a little, wondering if he would remember from the little glimpse I had given him on that balcony in Rome. He swallowed hard, trying to find his voice again.
“So that's what that matching bra looked like...” He mumbled, staring at my chest.
“So you do remember?” I smiled, wrapping my arms around him, pulling him closer. He smiled back, slipping his arms around my waist.
“Of course, how the hell could I forget? That bra was all I could think about for the rest of that evening,” he complained. “Do you have any idea how much I struggled to keep up with the conversation after that?”
“I'm so not sorry,” I smirked teasingly, then leaned in to kiss him. He giggled against my lips and kissed me back, his tongue running over my lower lip.
“Come here,” he breathed, and without breaking our contact he pushed me gently along towards the end of the bed. He sat down, pulling me down into his lap, and just the feel of his skin and body against mine was enough to make me let out a sigh of relief. I'd wanted to be close to him for so long. With glittering eyes he looked at me, letting his eyes roam admiringly over my face and down my chest. “Ron, you're gorgeous,” he sighed, and I blushed furiously. To hide my blushes I buried my face against his neck, hugging his tightly. “You are,” he reassured me, kissing my cheek. “And I want you so bloody much. I just don't want to hurt you,” he added, sounding a little concerned. I straightened up to look at him. Tenderly I placed my palm against his cheek, caressing him with my thumb while I brushed my nose against his.
“You won't,” I assured him, giving him a little smile. “Now kiss me?” I asked. Returning my smile he leaned in and kissed me, slowly and deeply. His palms caressed my back, trailing down over my lace-clad hip to my thighs. He unhurriedly trailed kisses along my jaw, down the side of my neck and along my clavicle. Raising a hand he pushed my bra-strap off my shoulder, out of his way. I had buried one hand in his hair, the other was caressing his shoulders, and my eyes were closed as I lost myself in his kisses. He pulled the bra-strap even further down, exposing my breast, and his mouth kissed its way from my shoulder down towards it, causing my heart to speed up even more. My entire body felt like it tingled when his mouth closed around my nipple, his tongue moving around it in circles, and I gave a little wince of pleasure. I felt how I squirmed against him, grinding my hips against his, and as I did so I could feel that he was already hard. With my nipple still in his mouth, his hands undid the clasp at the back of my bra and the other bra-strap slid off my shoulder. I let go of my hold on Richard, but only to let the bra fall further down until I could let it fall to the floor. Richard's mouth let go of my breast, and he trailed kisses up towards my neck again, nuzzling his face against my skin. His arms clasped tightly around me, and I clasped my arms around him in return, loving the feeling of my naked chest against his. We writhed against each other, pushing our bodies against the other. I trailed kisses along his jaw, on the hunt for his lips. I kissed him hungrily, my tongue brushing against his. Suddenly he straightened up, pulling away from me.
“Ron, Ron... Are you..? I don't think I have a single condom in this house,” Richard admitted, looking rather worried and desperate.
“Oh, so you don't have one in your wallet like you did when you were 16?” I giggled, teasing him as I ran a hand over the back of his neck. “One that's been there so long it's made a circular impression in the leather?” At this Richard laughed loudly, his eyes crinkling.
“Have you been talking to my mother?” He chuckled. “But no, funnily enough, I don't anymore,” he hummed, leaning in to kiss the side of my neck.
“Don't worry Hammond, I'm on the pill. I'm a responsible nurse, right?” I said reassuringly, kissing his temple.
“Oh thank fuck. Because I wouldn't have been able to walk away from you right for everything in the world,” he groaned with relief. Straightening up he smiled widely as he caressed my thighs, studying my face. We were both already breathing a little heavily, lust and anticipation building between us. “Ron, get up,” he mumbled, looking at me hungrily. I scrambled up from his lap and he followed quickly. We stumbled across the bedroom floor to the side of the bed as we kept kissing feverishly. Richard's hands found the hem of my lace knickers and pulled them down past my hips, letting them slide to the floor. With a mixture of nerves and excitement I followed his lead, pulling his boxers down, taking them off. Richard laid down on the bed and watched me as I gingerly laid down too, my ribs and clavicle still feeling sore and tender. I quickly inched up to him, into his open arms, and eager to be as close to his naked body as I could I slipped my leg in between his. Being naked with him felt new and incredibly exciting. Richard kissed me again, slowly and tenderly, his fingertips trailing delicately down along my spine. My hand caressed his back, trailed over his hip and bum, giving it a squeeze. This caused him to kiss me more hungrily, his tongue occasionally finding mine. His palm slid across my back, over my sides then upwards, finding a breast. He cupped it and his thumb rubbed against my hardening nipple. To spur him on, I slid my hand slowly down between us. Finding his cock I wrapped my palm gently around his erection, and he huffed a little at my touch.
“You sure about this?” He asked tenderly.
“God yes,” I breathed into his ear, touching him slowly, far beyond the point where I would be able to stop. He nuzzled his face against my neck, his hand still kneading my breast and rubbing my nipple. His breathing grew heavier against my wet neck as I kept touching him. Pulling away from me a little, he pushed me gently down onto my back and began trailing kisses over my shoulder and chest, over a breast, down my stomach, inching down the bed. I ran my hands lovingly over his shoulders and arms, through his hair, feeling my heart rate go up with every inch lower his lips went. Lying between my legs, he trailed kisses from one hip to the other, his hands caressing my sides and stomach. He was gentle, holding back, afraid of causing me pain. Just as I was getting impatient, he kissed my labia and slipped his tongue between my lips, finding a hard and sensitive clit. My stomach swooped and the sensation made me draw a sharp intake of breath, causing me to spread my legs wider. His tongue worked slowly, but firmly on me, and I winced and moaned, one hand buried in his hair, one hand grasping a fistful of sheets.
“Oh, God... Richard...” I moaned slowly, writing underneath him, arching my back, ignoring that my ribs didn't approve of this. He hummed against my pussy, responding to my moans. His hand caressed the sensitive skin on the inside of my thigh, trailing fingertips lightly up and down, before his hand slid all the way up. Two fingers slide themselves gently into me, and my hips bucked at the sensation, drawing a wince from me. The sensation of his fingers inside me and his tongue on my clit quickly became overwhelming, all-consuming. I had wanted Richard for so long, and it felt like he knew me already, knew how I worked. But then, suddenly, finding myself getting carried away, I grabbed his arm, making him stop. “Stop, or you're gonna make me come,” I said, breathing heavily.
“I thought that was the point,” he smirked back, glittering eyes looking up at me between my legs.
“Not like this...” I pleaded and I grabbed his shoulders, pulling him upwards. He moved back up the bed and looked down at me with curious eyes. I buried my face against the side of his neck, sensually kissing him underneath the ear. “I want to come with you inside me” I whispered against his skin, feeling how I blushed slightly at being this honest.
“Okay,” he breathed, kissing my shoulder in return. Slowly I trailed kisses up along his jaw until my lips found his, and I could taste myself on them.
“Now come here,” I breathed against his lips, and he gently rested his body against mine. The feeling of his hard erection against my labia made my stomach do a back-flip. God, how long had I longed for this?
“Does this hurt?” he asked, taking the weight of his chest off me with his arms, knowing my clavicle and ribs were still pretty sore.
“No,” I answered simply, smiling up at him. He leaned down to give me a slow kiss. “I need you. Now,” I breathed against his lips, and just my words made him give a little groan. With his hand, he guided himself inside me, and I gasped and moaned loudly. For a moment we just laid there, quietly, enjoying this new sensation of being closer than we ever had before. Finally being as close to each other as we wanted. Gently he began moving his hips, trailing kisses along the side of my neck. My hands were caressing his back, fingers digging into his skin. Keeping his weight off my chest with one arm, he used his free hand to firmly caress my side, my hip, digging his fingers into my thigh. I bent a leg, wrapping it around his hip, spurring him on deeper inside me. He groaned against my wet neck, his hips thrusting against mine, his cock inside me. He was being considerate, trying to keep his weight off my rib cage and aching clavicle. Suddenly he slowed down, then stopped completely, causing me to open my eyes. He raised his head to look at me. “What is it?” I asked breathlessly.
“Nothing,” he whispered, but at the same time, he pushed himself slowly inside me, not dropping my gaze.
“Fuck, Richard...” I moaned, my mouth open, desperately trying not to break eye contact. We stared into each other's eyes as he thrust in and out of me, achingly slowly. This was the sexiest thing I'd ever experienced, our intense stares into each other's eyes and the slow, gentle movements by Richard.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he huffed eventually, closing his eyes and kissing me, unable to hold back any longer. His hips began working faster against me, and I didn't mind, I needed more friction, more pleasure. My full focus was on him inside me and I raised my hips against him at every thrust, digging my fingers into his hips. The frustration of the past weeks had built up to no end, not to mention all the frustration from way before that, and I knew I wouldn't last long when he started to pick up the pace.
“Oh god, don't stop,” I begged, clawing at his back, moaning ever louder. I tried to hold on for as long as I could, but far too soon I realized I was losing the battle. “Oooh god, you're making me come!” I winced loudly, a little surprised at just how fast I was coming. My legs trembled and I lost it for a moment, just groaning and grinding up against him as the orgasm washed through me. When I came to myself again, I opened my eyes and looked up at him, my perfect man, with his huge brown eyes and his hair on end. He was smiling at me, looking a little proud of himself.
“Are you okay?” He asked eventually, when my breathing has calmed down some.
“Fucking hell, Hammond,” I panted, wiping sweat off my brow, causing him to give a soft chuckle. “Yeah, I'm very, very okay,” I assured him, giving him a grateful kiss and running my hand over his slightly sweaty back. “But... That didn't last nearly as long as I wanted it to, I'm sorry...” I muttered apologetically. “I've been waiting for that moment for so long.”
“Don't say sorry,” he said kindly, coming to rest next to me, running a hand down my arm and hand.
“But you didn't come, did you?” I asked a little shyly.
“No, I didn't get that far,” he admitted, looking almost embarrassed.
“Sorry,” I mumbled again, feeling a little insecure.
“Stop it!” He said sternly, giving me a reassuring kiss. “I loved making you come,” he added, nipping at my bottom lip. “When you came I could actually feel it, inside you,” he breathed, and that sentence was enough for me to twitch with lust again. “Besides, we have all the time in the world to make each other come. Over... and over... and over.” He spoke slowly, punctuating every 'over' with a kiss. For a while I buried my face against his neck, holding him close, enjoying the feeling of being completely naked with him, feeling his warm body against mine. But before long I couldn't resist the urge to kiss him again. I owed him an orgasm, and I wanted to give him one. His cock was trapped between us, still hard. It was my turn to gently push him down onto his back. He looked intently at me with glittering eyes as I climbed on top of him, straddling his hips. His hands immediately moved to my thighs, sliding up them and coming to rest on my hips. Resting my weight on my good arm, I leaned down to kiss his lips. Feeling his erection underneath me, I pushed my hips down against him, making him groan into my mouth. Grinding down on him again my clit rubbed against him, and I winced a little.
“God,” he groaned, his fingers digging into my hips.
“Fuck, I want you again,” I breathed, slipping a hand between us and guiding him inside me.
“You feel amazing,” Richard groaned as my hips slowly started working on him. This worked, it didn't hurt my ribs or clavicle. He raised his hips and buried himself deep inside me, his arms clasped around my lower back. I rode his cock slowly in the beginning, getting to know the feel of him inside me. Richards's hands were on my bum, squeezing it, breathing heavily, groaning every now and then.
“God, you feel good,” I huffed, kissing him desperately, sucking on his bottom lip. Holding my weight on only one arm was starting to become heavy, so I sat up straight, a little surprised at myself for daring to be so exposed. Richard's palms slipped over my hips and thighs, and I trailed my hands over his arms as I slowly began to move my hips again. My eyes were closed, not sure if I was confident enough to open them and meet his gaze.
“You look so fucking hot right now,” Richard mumbled, his fingers digging into my thighs. Opening my eyes I was met by his stare, he was drinking me in, watching me slowly ride him. “You're so sexy, Ron,” he continued, breathing heavily with his mouth open as he kept staring at me. These words boosted my confidence enough to keep looking into his eyes. Steadying myself with a hand on his chest I leaned forward slightly, changing the angle of my hips, moving faster on him. The slight change in position made Richard moan louder, grinding up against me. I tried to keep my eyes open for as long as I could, staring into his, but before long it all became too much and I had to close them, focusing only on the feel of him inside me, his hands on my bum. I felt Richard shifting underneath me, and I stopped to let him sit up and move his legs a little, making me sit in his lap. Goosebumps spread across my skin as I felt his warm, soft skin of his chest against mine again. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, running my fingers over his neck and up into his hair, looking into his eyes. He wrapped his arms around my waist, soft palms running across my back. Resting my forehead against his I slowly began moving again. This was the closest I'd ever felt to anyone in my entire life. Not just physically, but emotionally, and sexually. We were both breathing heavily, mouths open, completely lost in the moment and in each other. I began moving faster, wanting to give him his orgasm. His arms were clamped around my lower back, pushing me down against him, searching for more pleasure. I kissed his neck, running my tongue over the skin beneath his ear.
“Just tell me what to do,” I breathed against his skin, wanting him to come.
“Just keep going,” he huffed, his hands making me keep the pace. So I did. I kissed his neck, his shoulders, his mouth, riding him all the while.
“Fuck... faster, Ron,” he begged, and I obliged immediately.“Oh god, fuck!” He cried, hugging me tighter against me. I rode him, as fast as he wanted, chasing his orgasm. He clawed at me harder, his moans louder, and I knew he wasn't far off. But to my own surprise, I felt myself coming too. “Oh fuck, Ronja, don't stop!” he begged breathlessly, and I knew I couldn't because I was chasing my own orgasm as much as he was right now. I kept slamming against him, wanting him to come as much as I did. “Oh fuuuck I'm coming,” he groaned in a voice I had never heard before, and in a way that caused a reaction in me too. He dug his fingers into my hips and buried his face against my shoulder as he came, and I felt my legs starting to shake in return.
“Fuck, Hammond, I'm coming again..! ” I groaned, then my pussy clenched around him time and time again. By the time both of our orgasms had receded, we were just clinging onto each other, trembling.
“Bloody hell,” Richard moaned, still inside me. We breathed heavily together, trying to find our senses. “That was...” Richard began. “The best bloody orgasm ever,” he admitted, breathing heavily, still hiding against my neck.
“Well.. do you know what?” I answered back, kissing his temple. Richard was silent. “That was the first orgasm I've had at the same time as someone else, ” I admitted. At this he raised his head to look up at me, looking a little incredulous. “You have no idea how many times I've faked it.”
“Fucking hell. I love being naked and inside you,” Hammond sighed, giving me a deep kiss. “Please will you never fake it with me?” He begged.
“I haven't so far,” I said with a little smile, caressing the nape of his neck.
“No?” He breathed.
“Nu-uh,” I whispered, brushing my nose against his. “And I promise I never will.”
“Good,” he whispered back. Richard sank back down onto the bed and I followed, lying down next to him, my body draped alongside his, an arm and a leg wrapped around him. Both enjoying our post-orgasmic bliss, we just lay there quietly, brushing our noses against each other.
“Richard? Can I ask you about something that might seem a bit... weird?” I mumbled.
“Of course you can,” he said instantly, giving me a reassuring squeeze.
“I.. This was our first time, at least properly, and I just... I have hair,” I mumbled.
“You have hair? Yes I did notice that the first day I met you,” he snickered.
“No, I mean I... I have hair... down there... and blokes these days seem to expect that we all should be bald like the day we were born and I hate it,” I grumbled. “I mean, I don't want a 70s growler down there, either, but being hairless down there isn't natural and... I guess I just wanted to make sure that wasn't a turn-off for you?”
“Nothing about you could be a turn-off for me, Ron....” He quipped.
“Be serious, I'm insecure about this, all right?” I mumbled back.
“Well I have hair down there... and so do girls? And whatever hair you have down there didn't exactly seem to turn me off, did it?”
“No, I guess not...?" I said, still sounding insecure.
“Ron... You and I just made each other come. You came twice! And I had a fucking great orgasm with you. I don't care about hair, I don't care if you have a bald fanny or want to grow a growler.” At this Richard made a comical face that made me laugh loudly, but that also made me feel safe and more at ease.
“I'm sorry, I'm just... Horribly insecure and stupid,” I admitted, covering my own face.
“Ron, stop it... I want you... and your fanny, hair or no hair,” Richard reassured me.
“And I want you too," I sighed, kissing his neck lovingly. Richard's light fingertips ran up and down my back, over and over.
“God, I love you,” I sighed. His fingers came to a halt, and my insides froze, causing me to jerk away from him, causing my ribs and clavicle to protest with pain. What on earth had possessed me to say that? “Shit! I'm... I'm sorry! To soon? Yeah, that was too soon, probably. Are you freaking out?!” I studied his face intently, but all I could gain from it was surprise. Then, suddenly, and before he even managed to say anything, I changed my mind. “You know what, fuck it, I do love you. Life's too short. I took a bus to the face and I'm still here to talk about it. You and I have been faffing around for over a year, being stupid and scared and a pair of cowards. So yeah, you know what? I love you. I fucking love you, and I have for a while.” I looked at him defiantly. His expression had turned from surprised to slightly bemused, and I was half thinking he was going to burst out laughing at me any second. Then his expression became more serious.
“Ronja... No, I'm not freaking out,” he said in a surprisingly calm, rather slow manner. “Because I love you too. You're right, life IS too short. By all accounts, both you and I should be dead, but by some miracle, we're not. So yeah, I love you too.” And my response to this was that my lower lip began wobbling and a treacherous tear ran down my cheek. “I'm not sure me telling someone I love them has made anyone cry before....” He mumbled, looking a little put upon.
“I'm just... relieved, okay,” I sniffled, giving him a teary kiss and hiding my embarrassed face against his chest. He squeezed me and began running his hand over my back again.
“You know, this isn't the first time I've said I love you,” he said quietly, kissing the top of my head. “Not really.”
“Oh?” I frowned, looking up at him.
“Yeah, I... When you were in the hospital, in a coma, I... I held your hands and kissed your forehead and said 'I love you' to you, over and over. Out loud. Hoping... Hoping that... that love was strong enough for you to wake up.” My bottom lip began wobbling again.
“Are you trying to make me cry now?” I said, my voice all choked up. He just silently shook his head, cupped my face, and brought it to his, kissing me softly.
"No, I'm not. But it's the truth," he said quietly. "I love you too, okay?"

Chapter Text

Sitting by the kitchen table scrolling on my phone, I noticed a movement outside in the corner of my eyes. At the very start of the driveway up to the house, I could spot a car.
“Hamster? Someone's coming!” I said, a slight edge of panic in my voice. Please, don't be the ex-wife again I pleaded inwardly.
“What?” He asked from the living room.
“There's a car coming?” My voice was a little shrill now, causing Richard to hasten into the kitchen.
“If this is Mindy again, I swear I'm going to become violent, and I am not a violent ma-” He jabbered, already riling himself up, then abruptly stopped talking when he recognized the car approaching the house.
“What?” I asked, looking at him with wide eyes.
“It's definitely not Mindy.” He said flatly, staring unblinkingly at the car now driving into the front yard.
“But?!” I prompted, his staring not doing much to help calm me.
“... It's my mother.” His voice was a little weak.
“Oh shit.” I blurted out. “Well... She at least seemed nicer than your ex-wife, that one time I spoke with her?” I observed, sincerely hoping this would be a better surprise visit than the last one.
“But what is she doing here?” He frowned, scratching his head as he walked to the front door. The dogs were already milling around in the hallway, having picked up on the car tires hitting gravel in the front yard. Richard wrenched the door open, letting the dogs out ahead of him. I hung back, hovering in the doorway between the kitchen and hallway, not knowing if I should follow him or not. I could hear a car door open and footsteps on the gravel.
“Mum! Hello! What are you doing here?” I heard him ask, his voice sounding jovial.
“Hello, darling!” There's a pause in which I imagined a quick hug is taking place. “My son is being incredibly quiet and distant these days, so I thought I'd check up on him!” She answered brightly. Then she started jabbering at the dogs, obviously greeting them all.
“Yeah, I'm sorry mum, it's just been... There's been a lot going on,” he said, sounding sincerely sorry.
“Oh, with what, darling? With work?” There was no blame in her voice, just curiosity.
“Mno, with... other stuff. I'll tell you about it inside, come on.”
“But first you have to tell me who this pretty boy is!” Mrs. Hammond insisted, obviously having spotted there was a new member to Richard's pack. “Do you have a new friend?”
“Oh, that's.... that's Sprocket, he's Ronja's dog,” he answered a little awkwardly.
“Ronja? Oh, your friend, right? The nurse you're always on about?”
“I'm not always on about her,” he replied, sounding like a tetchy little teenager feeling embarrassed. “But yeah, that's her,” he added.
“So she's here?” She sounded a little excited at the prospect.
“Yeah, she's inside. Come on, I'll introduce you,” I heard Richard's voice saying, and I felt my hands instantly going clammy. Hastily I retreated into the kitchen, pretending I had been sitting at the kitchen table all this time and not been eavesdropping in the hallway. Footsteps approached the house and entered the hallway, then all the dogs entered and the front door got shut. Great, I was meeting his mother in sweatpants and with a messy bun. As soon as they appeared in the doorway to the kitchen I got up from my chair, quickly wiping my palms on my trousers. “Right, mum, this is Ronja,” Hammond said after having cleared his throat, gesturing from her to me. “And Ronja, this is mum. Er, Eileen,” he added hastily, realizing “mum” probably wasn't her real name. Our handshake was slightly hampered by 5 dogs milling about us, but she gave me a heartfelt smile and shook my hand warmly.
“Hello, Ronja!” She said sweetly. “So nice to finally put a face to the name!”
“Hello, nice to meet you, Mrs. Hammond,” I answered formally, trying to hide my nerves behind a shaky smile. Thankfully I managed to stop myself before I curtsied at her, she wasn't the damn queen.
“Oh, call me Eileen, please,” she waved.
“Mum, fancy a cuppa?” Hammond asksed, heading for the kitchen counter.
“Yes, darling, thank you, that would be lovely,” she replied as she lets go of my hand.
“Just... have a seat,” I mumbled awkwardly as I gestured to the kitchen table, realizing it might seem strange that I, a stranger, would invite Richard's mum to sit down in his house. She didn't seem to think any of it however and took a seat. I sat down opposite her, and suddenly I didn't know where to look, not wanting to stare at her. She was a short woman, smaller than her son, and Richard definitely got her eyes.
“Oh, what happened there, darling?” She asked in that way only concerned, empathetic mums can ask, pointing at the bruises peeking out from under the top I was wearing. I looked down at the purples and yellows stretching across my chest and clavicle, and down my arm.
“Oh, um... an accident,” I said a little hesitantly, not really knowing how to broach this subject.
“A bloody big accident,” Richard said darkly as he plonked two cups of tea in front of his mother and me.
“Oh no, how awful!” Eileen exclaimed, that maternal concern still visible on her face. “What happened?” I looked at Richard for a moment, hoping he could help me out a little.
“See, mum, this is why I've been a bit preoccupied lately,” Richard began as he sat down next to me. “She got into an accident in London about four weeks ago, the cab she was in was hit by a city bus.” At this Eileen actually clapped her hand over her mouth in shock, staring at me with wide eyes. “Yeah, she spent five days in a coma, scaring the life out of me...” Looking over at Richard, I met his eyes, the fear and worry were back in them. But there was also love in that expression. “She hit her head pretty hard, got a skull fracture, fractured clavicle, broken ribs, pinky toe... What else am I forgetting?”
“Um... I had several bleeds between my brain and the membrane around my brain. Oh, and I dislocated my shoulder,” I added, looking from Richard back to Eileen, who still looked horrified at everything she was hearing.
“Were you in the hospital with her?” She asked, looking at her son.
“Yeah, day and night. ...I wasn't going to let her wake up alone, mum,” he said seriously, fiddling with his fingers now.
“That's my boy,” she said, sounding approving. “But you're okay now, Ronja?” Her eyes moved from Richard to me.
“Yeah, I am, pretty much. Or I'm getting there. I had a seizure after being discharged from the hospital. That happened here, upstairs, and I nearly scared Richard into a heart attack.”
“Again. You have to stop doing that,” he pleaded weakly, casting me a sidelong glance.
“But yeah, apart from that I'm getting better. I just sleep a lot,” I shrugged.
“Good, that's good. Glad to hear you're getting better, darling.” She gave me a sincere smile. “No wonder I haven't heard much from you lately, you've had your hands full!” She turned her attention to Richard.
“Yeah, it's been... rough,” Richard admitted, giving me another quick glance. “At least before she woke up, those days were absolutely awful, I had no idea what to expect when she woke up. Or even... If she'd wake up at all.”
“You could have called your mother, you know, if you were having a hard time,” she said sternly at her son, clasping both hands around her cup of tea.
“I know, mum,” he sighed. “But I had Jeremy and James to talk to, they know Ronja pretty well too, and they were surprisingly supportive... Considering it was those two, at any rate,” Richard added. “Anyway, now she's staying here with me, at least until... she feels better.” He hesitated, studying me for a moment, not really sure how to end the sentence.
“He's been great, taking care of me,” I said gratefully, unable to hide my love for him as I looked into his eyes briefly. Eileen must have picked up on this.
“It's good that you have a friend like my son to help you since he's been through this sort of thing before,” she said, putting emphasis on the word friend.
“Yeah, he's been amazing,” I agreed, deciding it wasn't up to me to tell her about us, that had to be up to Hammond.
“So you've been here with Richard since the accident?” She asked, unable to hide her curiosity about us.
“Yeah, pretty much,” I began, and looking at Richard we came to a silent agreement to smooth over our falling out and that week I had tried to stubbornly manage on my own. “It took a while before I got out of the hospital, and I couldn't really manage on my own, especially not with the dog, so...”
“So I told her to come here,” Richard finished my sentence, and I gave him a grateful look. “I owe her from when I broke my face on a steering wheel, anyway. She nursed me through all of that, monitoring me all night, taking good care of me.”
“Oh, I meant to thank you again for that, dear, for looking after my son,” Eileen said, reaching across the table to squeeze my hand gratefully. I squeezed it back and just nodded gratefully, not really knowing what to say. “Oooh, I'm betting Mindy isn't happy about this arrangement? She being here, you nursing her back to health?” Eileen asked knowingly, raising an inquisitive eyebrow at her son over her cup of tea, about to take a sip. I decided to keep my mouth tightly shut, I should have no opinion in this matter.
“No, she really isn't. Actually, I've told her off, mum. She's crossed the line for the last time, I'm fed up with her barging into my house whenever she wants to,” he said, and I could hear the anger building in his voice.
“Oh, good for you!” She cheered, putting the cup down a little harder than necessary.
“Yeah, I'm not going to have her get my girlfriend all worked up while she's recovering from a brain injury, I'm not having it!” He said, angry enough to not even have noticed his own slip of the tongue.
“Girlfriend, is it?” Eileen said pointedly, but in a teasing sort of way, both eyebrows now raised at her son.
“D'oh!” Richard exclaimed, flinching and clapping his hand over his eyes for a moment. I blushed violently as Eileen's gaze now moved over to me, studying me intently, a bemused smirk on her face. To get away from her stare I looked over at Richard, who gave me a very apologetic look before trying to rally a little. “Yeah, mum, she's... she's my girlfriend,” he added, sounding like the very definition of sheepish. At this, his mum just laughed.
“Don't you think I know that, darling?” She chuckled, shaking her head a little exasperatedly at him. “I've known you your entire life, Richard. And the way you've always been going on about her, the way you've been looking at her today... Trust me, I already know.”
“Mums and their spidey senses, huh?” I mumbled, giving her a wonky smile.
“But congratulations, darling! I'm so happy for you! Both of you!” She exclaimed, getting out of her chair to give her son a hug.
“Thanks, mum,” Richard said as he hugged her back, still sounding a little sheepish. Having released Richard, she made her way over to me, and I was about to get out of my chair when she waved me down. “You sit, darling, you're hurt!” She bendt down and gave me a quick hug before returning to her chair.
“So when did you two get together?” She asked eagerly, evidently brimming with curiosity.
“Oh, um... after the accident, really,” he began, looking at me a little searchingly. “I think that crash made us realize a thing or two...”
“That crash gave us the kick up the backside that we both really needed, I think,” I observed, and both Eileen and Richard chuckled.
“Yes, Richard has had feelings for you for a long time, I suspect,” she said conspiratorially, shooting her son a teasing glance.
“Yeah, mum, I have,” he admitted honestly, smiling as he gave me a loving look and placed his hand on the small of my back, caressing me. I returned the loving look over my cup, resisting the need to kiss him.
“Ooh, you two are so adorable!” Eileen said sweetly, and we tore our eyes away from each other and blushed violently, squirming a little in our chairs. “Now, as awful as that accident must have been, I must say I'm relieved to find that my son is just quiet because he's busy taking care of his girlfriend. I was worried he was having a hard time, with the... you know, the divorce or something,” she added in a mumble, giving her son an apologetic look for bringing it up.
“No, mum, I'm over the divorce and all of that stuff...”
“Yeah, I'd say,” Eileen said with a snort, giving me a pointed look that caused me to laugh.
“But I did have a hard time with it for a while, you know that, mum. But then Ronja came along and sort of... put me back together.” He gave me a grateful look, and I couldn't help but raise my hand and place it on the nape of his neck, caressing his skin with my thumb. To my surprise, he leaned in and gave me a quick kiss, and the blush crept up my neck knowing his mum was watching. Straightening up again he smiled as widely as he could, just looking incredibly happy and content. I cleared my throat and sat up more straightly, trying to bring myself out of my reverie. Getting myself to finally meet Eileen's eyes again, she just looked at the both of us with a smile.
“I'm really happy for you, Richard,” she repeated, more seriously than before, a mum showing her relief, knowing that her son isn't hurting anymore and is being loved and cared for.
“Thanks, mum,” he answered quietly, giving an appreciative nod. A son showing his gratitude towards a caring mother.
“How did you even meet her, Richard?” She asked, obviously not finished with her third-degree interrogation.
“She was temping down at Dunsfold, in the studio. A tech assistant had broken his arm, and they were scrambling around for a temp on really short notice. And knowing the crew, they hired her because they got a kick out of her being a woman, I suspect,” Richard mused.
“Still have no idea how I landed that job, it was through a friend of a friend. I had no qualifications, apart from having studied Media and Communication in college. And having boobs, apparently,” I added as an afterthought, making both Richard and Eileen snort.
“She ended up fitting in really well with the crew, so when we were doing a special in eastern Africa Andy asked her to come along, mostly to make us take our malaria meds and be on hand if someone got hurt or in an accident,” he explained.
“I could have done with knowing that, I always worry myself sick when you're on those trips, you know that!” She admonished her son, and he shrunk a little away from her and mumbled an apology. Eileen turned her attention to me again.
“So, normally you work as a nurse? I take it you're on sick leave now?”
“Yeah, I'm on sick leave for... At least two more months, according to the doctors. Seems like a lifetime right about now, but brain injuries take a long while to heal, I gather,” I shrugged.
“Yes, they do, just ask him,” Eileen said, gesturing at Richard. “But when you go back to work, where is that?”
“Oh, at the A&E down in Guildford. I spent many years in London, but eventually, I had to get out of the city, I'm a country bumpkin.”
“She was at work when I smashed my nose,” Richard flinched at his mum. For a moment her eyes flitted between me and Richard, exasperation and worry creeping into her eyes.
“I do sincerely hope you're not as accident-prone as my son, I'm not sure I'll be able to deal with two of you!” She complained, eyes wide at the prospect.
“I'll do my best, Mrs. Hammond,” I vowed, showing her my palms. “Before that bus crash, the worst accident I've been in was a fender-bender when I was 19.”
“Good, good,” she breathed a sigh of relief. “And it's Eileen!” She insisted.
“So, mum, want to stay for dinner? We could make something, or we could get some take out?” Richard offered.
“No, no, no,” she waved in a fussy manner. “I'm not going to stay long, don't bother yourselves on my account.”
“You're welcome to stay, mum,” Richard continued.
“Oh, I know that,” she waved. “But I'm going to get out of your hair so you can get back to taking care of your sweetheart,” she insisted, smiling at me. She really was a sweet woman.
“All right, mum,” he sighed, giving up. “Anyway, how are you? And dad? Anything new?” He asked.
“Oh, we're all fine, darling, nothing new or exciting, not like with you!” She smiled and emptied the dredges of her tea, knowing that Richard really wouldn't be interested in any family gossip right now. “Right, I better be off then,” she said with finality, getting up from the kitchen table. Richard quickly rose too.
“Mum, you don't have to rush off...” he said, walking towards her.
“I'm not,” she said pointedly. “I'm just giving you space,” she explained, placing her palms on her son's chest. “I know you're... busy.” I could've sworn I saw her wink cheekily at her son, and Richard blushing, stunned to silence. She withdrew her palms from him and turned to me, and I got up from my chair. She placed her hands on my shoulders. “Now, Ronja. It was really lovely meeting you, finally!” She drew me in for a long hug. “I'm sorry about the accident, darling, but I'm so glad you're doing so well,” she said, patting my back before letting me go. It was strange, the hug didn't feel awkward, and she didn't really feel like a stranger to me, either. She felt familiar somehow, just like Richard had done when I met him. “Thank you, Eileen,” I said, smiling gratefully at her. She walked into the hallway to put her shoes on and we trail after her, the dogs bringing up the rear. Making sure she had her keys with her, she rummaged through her handbag for them, eventually fishing them out.
“Right, Richard, you take care of her now. And yourself,” she said, bringing him in for another quick hug. “And keep me posted if anything happens?”
“I will, mum,” he said, sounding like the dutiful son. “And you drive safe, yeah? Say hi to dad.”
“All right, I will. Love you, son,” She said maternally, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.
“Love you, mum,” he mumbled back. We remained in the doorway, watching as Eileen walked over to the car and got in. Richards's arms wrapped around me from behind, his cheek resting against mine. Having buckled herself in, Eileen gave us a final, enthusiastic wave which we both returned before driving off. Richard let go of me and closed the door, then took my hand and dragged me into the living room, headed for the sofa. He landed heavily on it, dragging me with him.
“... So, that was my mum,” Richard said quietly, looking embarrassed like only a parent can make a child.
“She seems perfectly lovely, Richard!” I smiled, taking his hand in mine, squeezing it.
“Yeah?” He looked at me a little incredulous. “Sorry, she just showed up like that...” He started.
“Oh stop it, Richard. She was worried about you! I didn't mind her showing up!”
“No?”
“No, of course not. I was really nervous though, meeting her,” I admitted.
“You were?” Richard frowned at me, obviously not having picked up on that.
“Hammond, I nearly curtsied at the woman like she was Elizabeth the Second!” At this Richard screwed his face up with laughter. “In my sweatpants!” I added, to more giggles from him. When his laughing abated, he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close.
“I think you did good, love,” he said, squeezing me reassuringly.
“So she doesn't hate me?” I asked childishly, nuzzling my face against his neck.
“How could she?
“I don't know... Maybe she sees me as a very poor substitute for the perfect daughter-in-law she used to have,” I muttered, for once letting a bit of my jealous side show. At the Richard snorted a derisive laugh.
“Relax, mum did not think of Mindy as the perfect daughter-in-law, they had their differences. When did you become so jealous?” He asked, pulling back a little to look at me.“I'm not, usually. I don't know, Mindy was just here, she's obviously not over you, and...” My voice trailed off.
“Ronja, stop that, you have to let it go. I have? Even mum could see that, that I'm mad about you.” With two fingers he lifted my chin, forcing me to look at him. I gave him a weak, embarrassed little smile, feeling like I'd been a bit silly. “My mum really likes you, I can tell. And I am really, completely in love. With you.” He added firmly. I gave him a nod of understanding, message received, and he gave me a long, heartfelt kiss. Pulling back he closed his arms tighter around me again, pulling me close and I rested my head on his shoulder. “Honestly, if you had curtsied at my mum I would have completely lost it,” he chuckled quietly.

Chapter Text

Waking up in the middle of the night I inched quietly out of bed and tiptoed downstairs for a glass of water. Leaning against the kitchen counter I just felt calm and sleepy, and not aching anywhere for once. The only sound audible in the quiet house was the ticking of the clock on the wall. Before long I heard steps coming down the stairs, and without even thinking I quickly slipped my knickers off, swooped down to pick them up and stuffed them unceremoniously in a kitchen drawer.
"Ron?" A soft voice called out to me from the hallway, wondering where I was.
"Yeah, love?" I answered in hushed tones. Just as the drawer shut, Richard appeared in the kitchen doorway, wearing only his boxers. His bleary eyes spotted me standing by the counter holding a glass of water.
“Ron, baby, you okay?” Richard asked, his voice gruff and sounding troubled. He was squinting at the little light over the stove, his hair dishevelled.
“Yeah, I'm okay, I just needed a drink. When are you going to stop fussing over me like this?”
“I don't know, Ron. Probably never,” he admitted, looking a little embarrassed as he padded towards me across the kitchen floor on bare feet.
“I'm fine, love, I swear,” I smiled as I placed the glass of water on the counter and received him in my arms, running a hand lovingly through his hair. “Sorry if I woke you up, I tried not to,” I added with an apologetic shrug.
“Don't worry about it...” He said slowly, seemingly much more awake now than a minute ago. He pushed me gently up against the kitchen counter, slipping his arms under my t-shirt, on the hunt for closeness. “Being awake means I can do this...” he breathed, his mouth an inch from mine. His warm palms caressed my back as he kissed me slowly, needing to feel my skin under his fingers. But when the palms traveled down my side and over my hips, they stopped abruptly. “Ronja, you're not wearing any knickers...” he pointed out in a soft, husky sort of voice.
"I'm not...?" I said with feigned surprise, pretending I was unaware of that fact. Looking at him I bit my lower lip coyly. "That's odd."
“Not to mention... convenient,” he smiled suggestively. Bending down a little he clasped his arms around my bum and hoisted me onto the kitchen counter.
“God, Richard, cold!” I cried out, gasping loudly as the warm skin of my bum and thighs hit the cold surface. I playfully slapped Richard's shoulder as punishment, causing him to chuckle.
“You'll be warm soon enough,” he said in a seductive growl, looking at me mischievously, causing warmth to spread in the pit of my stomach. In a slow, commanding sort of way Richard placed his hands on my knees and spreads my legs before him. I wrapped my arms around his muscly shoulders, one hand caressing the nape of his neck. Slowly his hands began caressing my thighs, up and down, always travelling a little further with each pass. The t-shirt I was wearing, which was Hammond's, was long enough to reach down to my thighs. I watched as his hands progressed up my thighs, hoping that with the next pass, they'd slip underneath the shirt. Richard distracted me by leaning in, kissing me slowly, sucking deeply on my bottom lip. As he did this one of his hands finally reached its goal, and I feel two fingers slide in between my lips in search of a clit that's already wet and throbbing. I moaned into his mouth as the fingers find the right spot, rubbing against me in small circles. Richard's other arm wrapped around my lower back, holding on to me while his hand worked on me. My breathing quickly became heavier.
“Oh god, Hammond,” I moaned, feeling his fingers firmly rubbing my clit, causing me to push my pelvis against his hand.
“Does that feel good?” he murmured softly.
“Uh-huh...” I winced weakly against his lips, my arms still wrapped tight around his shoulders. Slowly he trailed kisses along my jaw and down the side of my neck, sucking at my skin, his hand still working on me. “Hammond, get inside me, please,” I begged, clawing at his boxers, desperately wanting to take them off. With his fingers still on my clit, his free hand pulls his boxers down quickly, and suddenly and without warning he pushed himself into me. “Fuck, baby!” I moaned in loud surprise. My legs wrap around his hips and I used them to press him tighter up against me. Richard quickly tore his t-shirt off my body and over my head, desperate to feel more skin against his own. We tried to cling to each other, thrusting against each other, but I felt like I was going to slip any second. “Hammond, stop!” I cried out, and Richard froze.
“We can't keep doing this, I'm going to slide off you and hurt myself again,” I said with a chuckle, clinging on to him, my arms and legs wrapped around him in a vice-like grip.
“All right,” he panted, breathing heavily. We both thought for a second, staring at each other with mouths half open. “Sofa?” We said in unison, having come up with the same idea, and we both giggled. The bedroom seemed much too far away. “Come here,” he said lustily, pulling away from me but taking my hand. We were both completely naked, and my heart nearly stopped as I watched him pulling me along into the living room, a massive erection on him. An erection I had caused. He sat down on the sofa and quickly pulled me down into his lap. Leaning against the back of the sofa he looked up at me with glittering eyes, his chest rippling as he breathes heavily.
“I wouldn't want you to get hurt, baby,” he said quietly, his eyes trailing over the faint bruising still visible on my chest.
“I won't now,” I assured him, then I started to kiss his neck and his collarbone. Richard's hands were on my bum, and he pushed me firmly against himself as he pressed his hard cock up against my clit, making me moan against his shoulder. Slowly I started kissing my way down his chest and stomach, tasting his salty skin, sinking down to the floor between his legs. Removing my lips from his skin I raised my head to look up at him, my hands firmly rubbing the skin on his hips. He stared down at me, his eyes black with lust, his mouth hanging open, breathing even heavier now. He watched me expectantly while lovingly running his hand over my hair. His cock was standing at attention, and I spent a while teasingly kissing the skin on his hips and stomach, carefully avoiding his cock. Impatiently he grabbed a fistful of my hair, tugging at it slightly, signalling he has had quite enough teasing. I took his pulsing cock into my mouth, closing my lips around him, tasting salt on my tongue.
“Oh fuck, Ronja...” he sighed, pulling a little tighter at my hair. I wrapped a hand around his cock, pumping his shaft while sucking his cock as well as I can, using my tongue on him. “Oh fuuuck,” Hammond groaned, his hips bucking slightly, pushing himself into my mouth. My heart was racing, being able to coax sounds like these from him was incredibly arousing. “Don't stop, baby, please fuck”, Richard pleaded, the tension in him mounting quickly, his movements becoming jagged and unpredictable, his breathing sharper and more ragged. I contemplated whether or not to let him come this way, but the throbbing in between my own legs was becoming impossible to ignore. I slowed down my movements on him then stopped completely. Removing my mouth from him I nuzzled the skin on his stomach for a second before looking innocently up at him. Richard stared down at me, hypnotized. From where I was standing on my knees I wiggled my bum and swayed my hips a little from side to side, supporting myself on his thighs.
"Get fucking up here," he growled impatiently, pulling me up from the floor by my arms. The moment I was back in his lap he kissed me hungrily. "God, you're so fucking good at that," he huffed against my mouth, showing his appreciation for what my mouth and hand could do to him. Straddling him I felt his cock trapped between us again and I grind my hips against his, over and over, feeling how wet I was. He hummed and drew me in for a heavy, sloppy kiss. I stopped kissing him, but just hovered over his mouth as I raised my hips a little and guided himself inside me, sinking down on him with a deep sigh.
“But that feels so fucking good too, baby,” Richard groaned as he grinded up against me, burying his face against my neck and shoulders, kissing and nipping at my skin. I clasped my arms around his shoulders and buried a hand in his hair. His hands were on my bum, fingers digging hard into me, controlling the pace. With my forehead against his, I concentrated on how my hips were moving against him.
“You feel so bloody good, baby,” I winced in between huffs and groans of pleasure, thrusting down on him, losing myself in the rhythm. I could feel the skin of our stomach and chest slipping against each other, wet with sweat, my breasts pressed hard against his chest. The scent and sounds of sex were spreading through the room, filling my senses. Richard pushed my chest away from him a little, but only so he could kiss his way down my neck and chest until his mouth blindly found a nipple. One of his arms was clasped hard around my lower back, pushing me hard down against himself. His other hand found my other breast, kneading it roughly, rubbing his thumb against one nipple while his mouth sucks on the other. “Oh fuck, good,” I huffed, almost out of breath as I kept grinding my hips hard on him. Burying my fingers in his hair I gave it a tug, causing Richard to groan and suck harder on my nipple.
“Fuck, Ron!” He breathed against my nipple, then his groans got louder as the pleasure rose even more in him. “Fuck me, Ron,” he pleaded, and the words alone were enough to cause my pleasure to increase. I wrapped an arm around his shoulders in a vice-like grip, using it for leverage to slam even harder down on him. My chest was stinging, being almost out of air, my ribs were hurting a little but nothing in the world was going to stop me from chasing down my climax. And his. Releasing my nipple from his mouth, he buried his face against my shoulder again, his moans reaching another level. His hands returned to my bum, his fingers digging hard into me once again, wanting me to go faster. As I increased the pace I suddenly felt that burning sensation inside me, the early warning signs of an orgasm fast approaching.
“I'm coming, baby, I'm so fucking close,” I huffed, grinding frantically against Richard.
“Me too!” He groaned back. We were in a race now, every huff and moan and shudder from one of us was spurring the other one on. Suddenly that burning sensation came to a sharp point, and I knew that with the next thrust or two I was going to be pushed over the edge. I clung to Richard's shoulders as I thrusted down on him a few more times, my moaning voice coming to a crescendo. In return, Richard's arms clasped hard around my lower back, his groans also rising in intensity. I came a second before him, bouncing in his lap now as I gave a long, loud moan, the orgasm exploding inside me, prickly bursts spreading through my entire body. Richard seized up, groaning gutturally as he clung onto me, coming hard inside me. We clung on to each other's sweaty bodies as we tried to catch our breaths. Hearing our frantic, desperate breaths I couldn't help but laugh, causing Richard to laugh too.
“God, that got a bit intense,” I chuckled, kissing his sweaty brow lovingly, my breath still ragged.
“Yeah, it did!” Richard giggled his goofy laugh, his breath feeling hot against my skin as he kissed me beneath the ear. We took another few minutes just catching our breaths and clinging to each other. Our naked, sweaty bodies soon felt cold, causing goosebumps to spread over my arms. “Come on, let's get back into a warm bed,” Richard said in a tender sort of voice, running his hand through my hair. On slightly wobbly feet I got up from his lap. He looked up at my naked body, letting his eyes slowly run over it lustily, coming to rest at my very erect nipples.
"What, I'm cold!" I complained, clapping my hands over my breasts. Richard chuckled at my blushing as he got up from the sofa. Gently he pried my hands away and pulled me close, my breasts pressing against his warm chest.
"Wow, they're actually poking me!" Richard teased, and I giggled against his neck.
"Can we go up to that warm bed now?" I begged, squeezing him and kissing his shoulder. He nodded, and we decided to just leave the few items of clothing we'd had on downstairs and pad upstairs naked, holding hands. Richard turned on one of the lamps on the nightstand and lied down, pulling me close to him before wrapping a duvet around us. We came to rest on our sides, just looking into each other's eyes, studying each other's faces lovingly. After a long silence, Richard ran a hand over my hair, tucking a few strands behind my ear.
“What are you thinking about?” He asked in hushed tones, giving me a tender look.
“How much I love your eyes,” I sighed with feeling, running my thumb over his cheekbone just beneath his eye. “Your beautiful, big, kind eyes. Among all the other things I love about you.”
“Oh yeah?” Richard said, eyebrows raised. “Want to tell me some of the other things?”
"Hmmm...." I hummed, not knowing quite where to begin. I let my eyes trail lovingly over his face, stopping at his mouth. “I love this but... the part over your mouth, under your nose, I don't even know what it's called. This little dip,” I continued, brushing a fingertip over the top of his upper lip, then kissing his upper lip tenderly. He kissed me back but didn't say anything, just looked at me curiously, waiting for me to continue. My eyes trailed down his neck and over his shoulder and arm. "Aaaand... I am completely mad about your arms and hands, they're the sexiest thing I know.” I brushed my palm down his taut arm, interlacing my fingers with his and playing with his hand.
“Really?” Richard frowned, studying his own hand for a moment, looking bemused.
“Mhm...” I hummed, still looking at our hands playing with each other, and then I brought his hand up to my face to kiss it gently. “When I watch your hands I always think about how strong they are, what they feel like on my body. Oh, and I love this bit,” I trundled on, running my finger over his clavicle and down the dip between his chest muscles. "And I love hearing you laugh. Especially if I'm the reason for you laughing."
"Even when I'm laughing at you?" Richard pointed out with a teasing smirk. 
"Yeah, even then," I shrugged carelessly.
“Do you know what I love about you?” Richard challenged, having decided it's my turn.
“No?” I said, unable to stop myself from blushing a little.
“That, right there," he said, his eyes glittering as he pointed at my face. "The way you always blush when I try to give you a compliment.“ He shook his head a little exasperatedly. "And your eyes, the way you look at me when we tease each other, your eyes sort of... sparkle, and I imagine I'm the only one who can make you look like that."
"You probably are," I nodded quietly, running a hand over the nape of his neck. “You have the most gorgeous eyes, I'll never forget the first time I looked into them properly." At this, I couldn't help blushing again. "And when you smile, when I make you laugh, my stomach always does this massive lurch of pride and excitement, masses of butterflies taking off." At this point I didn't even know where to look, hardly believing he was talking about me. "...And I love this bit...” he hums, sinking down on the bed, nuzzling his face between my breasts. “This might be my favourite place in the world to put my face.” I laughed and ran my fingers through his hair, feeling his breath and his lips kissing me softly between my breasts. His hand traveled down my back, down my side and over my hip. “And I love these,” he continued, gripping the top of my thigh firmly. “Your hips and thighs, you're all curvy and sumptuous and so fucking hot. Watching those hips and thighs riding me is the sexiest thing ever.” He inched back up the bed, his face level with mine again, his face slightly flushed now.
“Really? I just thought I was a bit fat...” I said sadly, admitting to this for the first time.
“No, you're perfect, baby,” he assured me, leaning in for a slow kiss. Then he whispered against my lips: “And I love the way you kiss me so desperately when you're coming.”
“Wait, I do that?” I asked, not being aware of this.
“Yeah, you do. Intense and desperate kisses.” He pulled back to look at me, his eyes resting in mine for a while. “But most of all I love you. All of you.”
“And I love all of you,” I whispered in return.

Chapter Text

The following month passes by in a haze of endless naps, short dog walks, and people stopping by to check up on me and keep me entertained. Richard knows me well enough to know that all this downtime is making me restless and bored, I am used to being at work full time for the most part. And he knows I get even worse when he has to go away for work. So he makes it a habit of “surreptitiously” arranging visits whenever he knows he has to go away for the day, somehow thinking I'd believe the sudden visits were mere coincidences.
“Right, I have to go, love,” he says one morning, kissing the top of my head as I am sitting by the kitchen table. His messenger bag is slung over his shoulder, car keys in his hand.
“So, who is going to be my babysitter today then?” I ask, taking my eyes off the newspaper and raising an eyebrow at him.
“What do you mean?” He freezes slightly in his tracks.
“Oh come on, I did hit my head, but I haven't gone completely daft. Someone always seems to drop by this house to see how I am, coincidentally on precisely those days you happen to be out of the house.”
“Funny, that...” Richard mumbles, squirming under my gaze, trying to hide an embarrassed smile but doing a bad job of it. “All right, fine, I may have asked them to visit you. But I know you're bored out of your mind, I'm just trying to help,” he says, half defensively.
“No no, it's fine, I love hearing that my friends only come to visit me because you've asked them to, not because they actually want to see how I'm doing after I got hit by a bus,” I sniff, pretending to be offended. Richard falls for it for a second, then I crack a smile. “I'm joking, Richard! It's very sweet of you. And of them. But I will have to learn how to spend days on my own again someday. Without Kristin or Emily magically popping by.”
“Not just yet, it's just been eight weeks,” he says flatly, kissing the top of my head protectively.
“You're going to say exactly the same in eight months,” I mumble exasperatedly. “So, who is it today?” I persist.
“It's my mum, actually!” He smiles.
“What?” I stare at him with wide eyes, slightly horrified at the prospect of spending a day alone with his mother, nice as she seemed when I met her. But I have only met her once.
“Yeah. I think she's planning to bake bread or something,” he says, sounding like this was an everyday occurrence.
“Richard, as lovely as your mum is, I do not need her babysitting me and baking with me like I'm in daycare!” I complain, feeling like an overprotected toddler. “What next, you'll have James come over and build legos with me?”
“She really wants to get to know you, Ronja, she's been bugging me to meet you again so I thought this was a good opportunity,” he shrugs innocently.
“Aaaw, that's... sweet, actually,” I say with a surprised frown, feeling relieved and happy she wants to get to know me better. First impressions couldn't have been horrible, then. And knowing that she actually wants to meet me again feels better than thinking Richard has just badgered her into babysitting me. “But you have to stop booking me nannies, Richard,” I plead, taking his hand and squeezing it.
“I know,” he sighs. “But I know how bored and restless you are getting, you've seen practically no one but me since the accident, you're probably even bored with my old mug at this stage, and I hate leaving you,” he says sulkily. I push my chair backward and get out of it.
“I will never be bored with you, silly,” I assure him, wrapping an arm around him. “But yes, I am getting restless, another month of doing nothing seems like an age. But I also know I'm not ready to go back to work yet, I'd be exhausted after an hour in that hospital. So I appreciate you making sure I have company as long as I have to stay here, it's a nice distraction.” I give him a grateful kiss. “Now go, or you'll be late. And I have to get into the shower, I thought I'd try meeting your mum while not looking like a homeless person this time,” I add. Richard chuckles, gives me another quick kiss and is out the door.
An hour later I hear car tires crunching on gravel, informing me of Eileen's arrival, predictably followed by the cacophony of excited barks spreading through the house. I wait for the doorbell, not wanting it to seem like I was expecting her. I also feign surprise when I tear open the door a minute later.
“Eileen! Hello!” I say in a high-pitched voice, not winning any Oscars with this performance.
“Hello, darling,” she smiles, grocery bags in each hand, greeting me heartily as if she's known me for years and years. “Is this a bad time? I thought I'd pop by and see how you were doing.”
“Um no, not a bad time, come in,” I say, taking a step back and inviting her in. She weaves her way through the dogs trying to greet her, deposits her grocery bags on the kitchen table before turning her attention to the pack surrounding her. “I'm sorry, though, Richard isn't home... He had to go do some work-thing-” I begin.
“Oh stop it, I know Richard has warned you I was coming,” she says cutting me off, not turning her attention away from the dogs she is busy greeting.
“How?” I ask, gaping at her a little. Had he called her after leaving the house?
“Because, if I was the one on sick leave just pottering about the house I would do it in a nightdress and slippers, not looking like that,” she answers simply, straightening up and gesturing to my outfit. It was just jeans, a top and a cardigan, and hair that was brushed and blow-dried instead of in a messy bun.
“Are you sure you shouldn't have been a detective?” I ask, raising an eyebrow at her, and she laughs.
“Oh god no, too much blood,” she waves, disgust on her face. “This is just experience from having raised three boys. You have to be... observant,” she smirks.
“Want a cup of tea, Mrs Ham – sorry, Eileen?”
“I'd love one, but you're bloody well not making it. Sit down,” she commands, pointing at a chair. She takes charge of the kitchen in a second, and sets about making tea in such a way you could have believed it had always been her kitchen. I sit down, deciding not to argue with her.
“What are the groceries for?” I ask, wondering if Hammond really had been serious about his mum coming over to bake.
“Oh, I thought maybe I could bake some bread, just to have something to do. I used to make homemade bread a lot when the boys were growing up, I think I got rather good at it. Stock up Richard's freezer a bit,” she jabbers as she puts teabags in empty cups and finds milk in the fridge. “Nothing makes a house smell better than making homemade bread,” she adds.
“Does it? I'm not sure I've ever... smelled that,” I frown, realizing that I probably never have. “Maybe we made bread in domestic science in elementary, but I can't remember.” She freezes a little in her tracks, studying me with a surprised frown. For a fleeting moment, it looks like she's about to say something, then she rallies a little and straightens up.
“Then it's about bloody time! But first, a cup of tea.” She places two steaming cups on the table and sits down opposite me. “Not the baking type, then?” She asks.
“Mno... not much of a homemaker of any kind, really,” I admit, thinking she might figure this out sooner rather than later in case she was hoping for a Stepford wife for her son. “Making food for just one is really boring.”
“I can see how it would be,” she nods. “Anyway, how are you doing? Forgive me for saying, but you look better than the last time I saw you. And not just because you're not wearing sweatpants,” she adds with a wink.
“Thank you,” I smile a little awkwardly, fiddling with my cup. “Yeah, I feel better, I guess, but not as good as I thought I would by now, I still get tired easily and am far from making it through the day without a nap or two.”
“I told you it was slow going,” Eileen reminds me.
“Yeah, I know,” I sigh. “It's been eight long weeks since the crash, just thought I'd have gotten further by now. Three months of sick leave seemed like an eternity, but now I'm wondering if I might need longer, actually.”
“Whatever you do, don't go back too early,” she says sternly, pointing at me. “Richard did, and that did him no favors. He can barely remember the first season or two they made after his crash. But he was restless and impatient, too, just like you are.”
“I just wish these headaches would give up, too,” I complain. “What if this is how I'm going to be for the rest of my life?”
“Oh, don't say that, darling. Richard said exactly the same thing to me when he was recovering, actually you sounded a little like him just now. But he eventually became himself again, and he was worse off than you were, from what I can understand. You'll be right as rain, just give it time.” She reaches across the kitchen table and squeezes my hand reassuringly, reminding me of her son.
“Thank you,” I say with a sad smile.
“Okay, so you're not the baking type. Any other hobbies?” She asks, trying to turn the conversation to a more cheerful subject.
“Oh, I... um...” I scramble around for something to say. Wow, am I really this boring? “Well... I've mostly just worked and spent time with Sprocket. I didn't have time for a hobby when I went to school, I had to work my way through it. I've built a lot of Lego,” I admit with a laugh. “To distract me from exam nerves and such.” At this she rolls her eyes slightly at me, not really surprised. “I guess I've been a bit boring. After I moved out of London to Guildford I started taking Sprocket on long hikes, always trying to find new trails when I had days off. But then, after I became friends with Richard... He introduced me to all these new things, ATVs and off-roading and motorbikes, I guess that's a hobby now, I love all of that. I'm not that far away from getting a motorcycle license, actually. If Richard will ever let me finish taking it, now...” I add as an afterthought. Thinking about my life before and after having met Richard was like thinking about two different lives. One filled with work and responsibility, a lot of time on my own hiking or binging TV series, dreaming of the things I might do once. The other was filled with laughter and adventure and a lot of new friends. Meeting Richard had blown some actual life into my life, before that I had just... Gotten by, somehow.
“If I have anything to say about it, he won't let you,” she says darkly. “I know I can't decide that, you're both grown-ups. And you can't stop doing the things you like doing. I just wish it was something safer.”
“Believe me, I never imagined I'd end up a biker chick,” I say with a little laugh. “I had never sat on one before I met Richard, he spent a whole weekend badgering me just to try it.”
“Bet he's regretting that now,” she smirks knowingly. “Anyway, how about we make some bread? Where does Richard keep his stand mixer?”
“Stand mixer? Are you sure he even owns one?” I say, frowning at Eileen.
“Oh he must do, I haven't raised a complete Neanderthal!” She huffs, getting up from the chair and opening all his cupboards and cabinets. Finally, on the top shelf of a tall cupboard, she discovers a cardboard box, evidently never having been opened, with the picture of a stand mixer on it. “Aha!”
“Oh wow. He really does own one,” I mumble with astonishment as Eileen pulls a chair up to the cupboard and climbs onto it to reach the box.“Eileen, let me!” I say but am quickly waved down.
“I'm not letting you climb up here, if you fall down and hurt your head again Richard will never speak to me,” she says, slightly out of breath as she pulls the big box out of the cupboard, handing it down to me. I quickly deposit it on the counter and turn my attention to her again.
“And you think he'll be less upset if I let his mum climb on chairs and she falls down breaking her hip?” I challenge, holding my arms out ready to catch her if she loses balance climbing down from the chair. The old habit of holding my arms out like I would around wobbly, old ladies in the hospital returns to me automatically.
“I'm not 95 years old, you know,” Eileen says, looking a little sour, safely back down on the floor.
“I.. no, sorry, you're definitely not,” I say hurriedly, quickly dropping my arms, feeling like a clot. But then her face suddenly breaks into a mischievous smile.
“Even though I know I might seem like it to you,” she teases. “How old are you, about 25?”
“What?!” I exclaim, wondering if she was still joking. “Come off it, I'm 33! I'll be 34 next month!”
“Really?” She says, studying me intently, looking like she didn't believe me.
“Yes, really, I can show you my passport!” I chuckle, shaking my head slightly. Where on earth had she gotten the idea I was in my mid-20s from?
“Oh,” Eileen says, looking a little stumped. “You must have one of those young faces, then, I guess. I must say I'm a little relieved, a divorced man getting a girlfriend 19 years younger than him isn't a good look,” she says darkly, pointing a finger.
“Ahem, you are aware of the age difference between James May and Emily?” I laugh, opening the cardboard box and emptying it of its bewildering contents.
“Yes, I do know that, in fact, and I was horrified at the thought until I actually met her. But she's... I don't know, an old soul or something, they're a good fit,” she observes, taking flour and milk and eggs out of the grocery bags, along with a stack of what looks like well-used bread tins.
“And what does that make me, an infant?” I ask. The bemused look I give Eileen is to show her I'm not offended.
“No, no, darling, I didn't mean it like that,” she says quickly, still worrying that I was. “Take it as a compliment!”
“I will, thank you,” I said with a grateful smile and a little grateful curtsy. “Eileen, what the hell is all of this?” I hold up what looks like a hook and what looks I can vaguely guess must be a whisk to her, forgetting to mind my language for a moment. She laughs and shakes her head, but takes pity on me and explains what the various bits do. For the next hour I feel like I really am back in domestic science at elementary level, really being new to baking. But before long we have two huge bread doughs that I am told will need about an hour to rise. “We could take the dogs out for a walk then?” I suggest, knowing they could do with blowing off some steam. “We won't be out that long, I'm not exactly a marathon hiker these days.” We meander around the countryside for an hour, the dogs running around us off lead. I decide maybe it's my turn to be a little curious. “So, how was Richard as a kid?”
“Have a wild guess?” She says, shooting me a knowing grin.
“I can imagine him being not much different from how he is now, really,” I muse. “Shouty, a little tetchy sometimes, mischievous...”
“That's not far off,” Eileen nods, chuckling a little. A nostalgic look comes over her face. “He was always full of pranks, and even more full of questions, he was incredibly curious. And funny, he could make me cry with laughter sometimes. And not always intentionally, sometimes I had to lock myself in the bathroom so he wouldn't see me laughing at him. And he had that creative side, he was good with words.”
“And he still is all of that,” I observe.
“Yeah, he hasn't changed much. The biggest difference is he can grow a beard now, really,” she says, making me chuckle. She regales me with a few stories from when Richard was a child, and I ask her about Richard's brothers, Andrew and Nicholas, about their lives and families and work. During our walk there's a plonk from my phone, and I quickly read the message. 'How are you doing? Is she driving you insane? Should I send her home? Love you.' I quickly tap a message back, letting him know I'm having a good time, which is the truth. But also add that she's been telling me every embarrassing story from his childhood for the last half hour.
“So, what is my son writing to you? Wondering if you're fed up with me already?” Eileen gives me a knowing look, an eyebrow raised, and I just gape at her.
“How...?” I begin weakly.
“You got that look on your face, darling, same look you get when you look at him.” She cocks her head at me, smiling a little when she sees the love I have for her son being visible on my face.
“I'm telling you, Solihull police department missed out on a bloody good detective in you,” I mumble, blushing slightly at how easy I was to read.
“So, what did you tell him?” She asks curiously.
“That you've spent the last half hour telling me every embarrassing secret about him as a child.” I give her a sly smirk, which she returns.
“Making him sweat! Ha, I like that,” she chuckles, displaying where her son might have gotten her mischievous streak from. Back at the house, I shoo the dogs into their room, then try to make myself useful by helping Eileen out. She habitually splits the doughs up into six, kneads them down, and shapes them to fit into the bread tins, and I try to help out the best I can, probably being mostly in the way. “Right, now these need to rise again for about... Oh, half an hour or so,” Eileen announces, looking at the clock on the wall.
“What? Really?” My shoulders sag, wondering how long this process was going to take. “I see why I don't bake now, I don't have the patience!” Eileen looks at me with a bemused grin.
“I'm betting you have lots of patience when it's something you find interesting enough, just like Richard,” she remarks, sitting down by the kitchen table.
“Want another cup of tea?” I offer.
“No, no, I'm fine. I'm going to have a sit-down in the living room and read this newspaper, and you can do whatever you want. Have a lie-down if you need to, just relax, you don't have to entertain me,” she waves, picks up the newspaper and saunters into the living room, sitting down in an arm-chair. I feel like I've been dismissed from duty, and now I have no idea what to do with myself. The dogs are all right, having a post-walk nap. Maybe I could read that book I was trying to get through? I go upstairs, getting the book from the nightstand, and walk downstairs and plonk myself on the sofa next to Eileen, pulling a blanket over me and opening my book. There is a bit of silence. “Really, Ronja?” Eileen pipes up, and I look at her from over the top of the book, my eyebrow raised quizzically at her. “Astrophysics for people in a hurry?” She says, quoting the title.
“Um, yes, what about it?”
“Are you sure my Hammond is clever enough for you?”
“Eileen!” I squawk in an affronted tone, putting down my book, then I can't help but laugh. “Richard has made a lot of science stuff, Brainiac and all the rest of it, give your son some credit!” At this she just laughs in return, giving a shrug.
“Yes, but he also crashes cars and falls off bikes like he's still twelve,” she grumbles, rolling her eyes before turning her attention back to the newspaper. I chuckle a little before picking my book back up. Predictably, and before long, I fall asleep. I awake with a start, wondering whether I've slept for a minute or four hours. I take a deep breath, and a new scent fills my nostrils. I dig myself out from under the blanket and the book, getting upright, feeling drowsy. Getting up I slowly make my way into the kitchen. Eileen is by the kitchen table, looking at her phone.
“Sorry, I fell asleep,” I say, making her aware of my presence.
“That's okay, you probably needed a nap,” she smiles. “The bread is almost ready.”
“Honestly, can't remember this smell,” I sigh, sitting down opposite her. At this, she looks at me with a sad, empathetic look.
“What does it smell like?” She asks.
“I don't know... Like safety, and... home, or something,” I shrug.
“Listen, Ron... Richard warned me that I was not to poke around in your upbringing, he hasn't told me specifics but I get it was awful. And you don't have to tell me anything, I just want you to know I'm sorry you had to go through... Whatever happened.” She reaches across the table and squeezes my hand quickly. “I'll make some tea.” Getting up from the chair she busies herself with cups and the kettle, and somehow this makes it easier to tell her what I am about to. I clear my throat before I begin talking.
“My mum... Was an addict, pills and alcohol. And most likely suffering from some psychiatric diagnosis or three. She probably didn't even know who my father was, and she drank while pregnant with me. My grandmother was probably the reason I made it past being a toddler, but she died when I was nearly five. Incredibly, child protective services didn't manage to take me out of my mum's care until I was 12.” I fiddle a little with my hands as I talk, and Eileen lets me talk, still busy making tea.
“And your mother drank all that time?” She asks, giving me a quick look to make sure it was okay that she asked questions.
“Yeah, for the most part. So I mostly got myself ready for school, often in dirty clothes and with like... a lunch-box full of cereal but no milk.
“Oh, Jesus,” Eileen mumbles, sounding both sad and aggravated. “So you went into foster care?” She asks, plonking two cups of tea in front of me and sits down.
“Yeah. And they were good people, helped me out, got me to therapy, tried to fix me up as well as they could.”
“I think they did a good job,” Eileen smiles kindly. “So how is your mum doing now? Do you know?” She asks, looking at me over her cup of tea, blowing on it.
“She passed away when I was 23. Norwegian police tracked me down here in England. Not even sure what she died from. Evidently, her husband had done nothing to try and find me, my name was omitted from her obituary. And I suddenly had two young half-siblings apparently. Never seen either of them.”
“Oh, darling...” Eileen sighs, looking at me with sad, empathetic eyes. “Thank you for telling me. And I'm really sorry you had to go through that. And, for what it's worth... I'm Richard's mother, and because you're the one he loves then... I'm kinda yours, too. If you want me to be.” At this I just stare at her, my lower lip wobbling treacherously. I had done well so far, but now my emotions are getting the better of me.
“You don't have to... I... I'll be fine, I'll manage like I always have,” I mumble, avoiding her gaze, immediately reverting to the old me. Being dependent on no one, managing everything on my own. Shoving my feelings down.
“I know that, but you don't have to be just fine anymore, darling. That's the point! You have people who care about you! Richard, and me. And Jeremy and James, they care about you too.”
“Stop it, I don't wanna cry,” I say, feverishly wiping my wet cheeks. She stares hard into my eyes, making me meet her gaze, and I try to for a second. Then I close my eyes, not able to look at her any longer. She squeezes my hand with both of hers. “Now just stop being silly. Richard cares so much about you that he doesn't know what to do with himself. And I care. You're not alone anymore, darling.” I'm not able to meet her eyes, but I squeeze her hand back as sincerely and gratefully as I can. She holds my hands as I try to calm down. When I feel ready, I open my eyes and look at her, sadness probably still visible in me. “Now,” she says with a heartening smile. “You need a freshly baked slice of bread with jam.” She gets up, busying herself with taking a loaf of bread out of a bread tin, slicing it up, then finding butter and jam in the fridge. Tasting that half-warm bread slice with butter and jam, I feel something I haven't felt since my grandmother tried to take care of me early on. Just that feeling of being cared for and loved. Tasting it I almost cry again.
“Wow... that reminds me of sitting in grandmas lap when I was four,” I mumble, some very old memories coming back to me.
“Is that a good feeling?” Eileen asks.
“One of the best,” I sigh.
“Good. I'll bake you as much bread as you would ever want,” she smiles, and I know what she's really trying to say.
“Thank you,” I say quietly, giving her a grateful smile. “You were right, you got pretty good at baking bread,” I add, trying to lighten the mood a little, taking another bite.
“I know right!” She says, looking a little proud of herself.
“Also, thank you for coming down here and keeping me company, it's very sweet of you,” I add.
“Richard didn't leave me much choice,” she smirks. “I'm joking! It was my pleasure, I wanted to get to know you more. Honestly, I just wish Richard had told me about you earlier, especially when your accident happened, I could've helped out more. I hate the thought of him sitting in that hospital alone, watching over you. I remember what that was like after he had his accident, it's torture.”
“I'm surprised he didn't call you, really,” I admit. “Maybe because you'd never met me, didn't know who I was?” I muse.
“But he'd spoken about you many times, and I knew you were really important to him, I could see that.”
“Maybe he didn't know you knew that,” I shrug. Eileen shrugs too, closing the subject. Silence falls as I finish eating and Eileen busies herself with tidying the kitchen. The emotional conversation we just had has taken it out of me, and I feel like lying down again. “Listen, I'm going to try reading my book again, I'll be on the sofa,” I say as place an empty plate and mug in the dishwasher.
“You do that,” Eileen smiles kindly. “I'll just finish tidying up in here.”

Chapter Text

Some weight against me suddenly disappears, waking me up from a deep sleep. I realize Sprocket has suddenly left my lap to run off somewhere. Stiffly, my eyes barely open yet, I scrabble into a sitting position on the sofa, still feeling dazed. When I finally manage to pry my eyes open properly, Richard swims into view, making his way across the living room floor, Sprocket at his heels.
“Hey, you're home...” I croak hoarsely, rubbing my face tiredly.
“Hello, love,” he smiles, landing heavily next to me on the sofa.
“Did you just get home? What time is it?” I mumble, feeling completely disoriented.
“It's 6pm, and yeah I just got home,” he says calmly.
“Oh god, your mum! I fell asleep ages ago, she must think I'm awfully rude!” I exclaim, suddenly waking up fully and opening my eyes wide, trying to get up.
“No, no don't worry, love” Richard says hurriedly, holding me down with his arm. “I talked to mum in the car, she was on her way home. She felt rude for leaving you without saying goodbye, but she didn't want to wake you, you were sleeping very heavily. And she knew I was coming home soon.”
“Yeah?” I squeak, still feeling bad, trying to calm myself down.
“Yeah, she wanted me to apologize to you for just leaving you and not saying goodbye, but... like she said, you were sleeping heavily.”
“Aw, all right,” I smile, meeting Richard's eyes. “How was your day?” I ask as I wrap my arms around him, pulling him closer.
“Oh, it was all right,” he sighs as he wraps his arm around me in return. “Boring, mostly. How was the day with my mum?” He asks, running a hand through my hair, looking like he was slightly dreading the answer.
“I had a good day, Richard. She's a sweet woman, I really like her!” I reassure him, squeezing him a little, running my hand over his back.
“Aw, that's good,” he sighs, sounding genuinely relieved.
“Besides, she made you. How horrible could she be?” I smirk, brushing my nose against his, and Richard chuckles quietly. “I kinda like you, you know? Anyway... Hello, you,” I smile lovingly, running my palm over the back of his neck, relieved to have him in my arms again.
“Hi, baby...” He returns my smile and gives me a soft, lingering kiss. Then he sinks into my embrace, hugging me close. “I missed you,” he mumbles, his face nuzzling the side of my neck, his lips blindly finding my skin. Kissing my skin tenderly, running his tongue over it, making me erupt into goosebumps.
“I missed you too,” I sigh in return. We sit there for a while, nuzzling our faces into each other's skin, relishing the closeness and warmth, taking in the smell of each other. My arms caress Richards back and shoulders, and his hands rub my sides and thighs. We writhe every so slightly against each other, breaths getting heavier. Richard gives me one more, lingering kiss before he lets go of me and gets up from the sofa. He just holds out his hand to me, and I take it with a little smile, letting myself be pulled to my feet. Words aren't necessary, we both know all too well where we this is headed. Staggeringly I follow him through the house and up into the bedroom, and he closes the door behind us, wanting some privacy from our pack of dogs. My stomach does a somersault when Richard pierces me with his eyes, making his way towards me across the bedroom floor. “I've been thinking about you all fucking day,” he says through slightly gritted teeth, wrapping his arms around me again. “I can't concentrate on anything because of you,” he growls, sounding genuinely a little tetchy. Walking backwards he steers me towards his bed, and pulls me down into his lap as he sits down, making me straddling him.
“For what it's worth, I can't either,” I sigh, running my fingers through his hair as I brush my lips against his. “All I can think about is you... And this....” I whisper, kissing him deeply. His palms roam over my bum and thighs as we kiss each other heavily, tongues brushing against each other every now and then. I slip my hands over his shoulders to the front of his shirt and begin unbuttoning it, doing it very slowly on purpose.
“For gods-- how many buttons can a shirt fucking have,” Richard huffs, tugging his shirt out of his jeans and quickly undoes the last remaining two. I giggle against his mouth, having gotten exactly the reaction I was out for. “You're enjoying this, aren't you? Torturing me?” Richard gently bites my lower lip, tugging at it a little as punishment.
“Mhm...” I hum as I slide his shirt off his shoulders and take it off him. “You left me with your mum all day.”
“And I've been sitting in meetings all day with a throbbing hard-on,” he retorts with a grumble as I run my palms over his bare chest, relishing the feel of his soft skin under my fingers.
“Wow, didn't realize meetings at the BBC were that exciting?” I muse, and Richard lets out a chuckle.
“They're not,” he says darkly. “But you are.” He slides my cardigan off my shoulders and lets it fall to the floor. I raise my arms to let him pull my tank-top off next. Instantly he swoops down to shower my collarbone and chest with kisses, while his hands find the back strap of my bra and undoes it quickly. I drop my arms to let the straps slide off, and the bra joins my other clothes on the floor.
Slowly Richard sinks back onto the bed, pulling me down with him. I sensually trail kisses along his jaw and he tilts his head, inviting me to continue the kisses down the side of his neck. With a feather-light touch he trails his fingertips down along my spine delicately, causing me to erupt into goosebumps. Suddenly, displaying his strength in stead, he claps his arms around me and I am flipped over onto my back. I let out a sudden, little squeak of surprise at the change in position, causing Richard to chuckle at the strange noise. “I thought I knew all the sounds you make by now,” he smirks, looking down at me through strands of hair. He's resting his weight on his arms either side of me, and the muscles in his arms and shoulders are flexing under his skin. The sight of it distracts me and my eyes trail over his chest, shoulders and arms. “Hey, my eyes are up here,” he says dryly, knowing how sexy I find his arms and hands, making me giggle.
“Sorry,” I chortle, making my eyes snap up to meet his. He leans down and gives me a little kiss before he sits up straight, his knees between my legs. I'm lying on my back on the bed, my feet hanging off the edge of it, not quite reaching the floor. Richards palms caress my stomach a few times before they swoop down to the button of my jeans undoing it and pulling the zip down, giving me a teasing look as he does it achingly slowly. “Funny, funny man...” I sigh a little exasperatedly, wriggling my hips under his hands. Having undone my jeans he gets to his feet, slips his palms up the side of my hips and hooks his fingers inside the lining of my jeans and knickers, pulling them both down at the same time. I raise my bum a little to help him, staring at him as his sexy arms pulls my final pieces of clothing off me. Standing over me at the foot of the bed he lets his eyes roam hungrily over my body, and I'm surprised to find that this doesn't make me feel remotely shy any more, I just enjoy feeling his gaze on me. “Hey, my eyes are up here,” I snort, poking him in the tummy with my big toe. His hand wraps around my ankle, much harder than I had expected.
“I know,” he growls, taking control over my leg and forcing it back down on the bed. Still standing over me at the foot of the bed, I can't help but stare at him, completely transfixed when he slowly undoes his own jeans, pulling them and his boxers off in one go. My cheeks flush hot and my breath becomes ragged when my eyes trail over his chest and stomach, his hips and his erection.
“I want you, baby,” I breathe, still staring at him with my mouth half-open.
“Scooch up a little,” Richard commands as gets on his knees between my legs. I inch upwards on the bed until my head reach the pillows, and Richard follows, his naked body coming to rest on top of mine.“God, this is all I've been able to think about all day,” he sighs with relief, kissing me deeply.
“I've missed you too,” I mumble against his mouth. With my arms and legs wrapped around his body I manage to push him over onto his back. Softly I trail kisses along his jaw and down his neck, feeling how his hands caress every bit of me he can reach, my shoulders and back, my hips and bum. I remember his words from before, about me enjoying torturing him, and a mischievous spark ignites in me. Slowly I begin inching my way down his body, kissing my way over his chest and stomach, pushing my torso down against his hard cock every now and then as I go.
“God, fuck...” Richard sighs, pushing his body up against mine, feeling my lips and tongue against his stomach, and my hands on his hips. I don't care about myself at this point, I just want to make Richard feel more pleasure than he ever has before. Sinking even lower down on the bed I kiss his hip and groin, my mouth slowly making its way towards a cock that's warm and rock hard. Reaching his cock, I lap my tongue against his length, feeling how he twitches at the contact. I hum as I close my mouth around his head, swirling my tongue around it, feeling the salty taste. Richard groans again, digging his hand into my shoulder hard. I kiss his cock as tenderly as if it was his mouth, before taking his entire length into my mouth and push my tongue up against it. Slowly I slide my mouth and tongue up and down against his length, and I feel Richard's hand bury itself hard in my hair. “Bloody hell, Ron...” He groans, trying to stop himself from bucking up against my mouth. I move my head faster, sucking his cock a little faster, humming every now and again. Richard's hip starts thrusting erratically, I can feel by his hips that he's arching up against me, digging his head into the pillow, searching for instant pleasure.
“Oh f.. oh fuck,” Hammond groans, thrusting even more erratically up against my mouth, and I immediately slow my pace, sliding him out of my mouth. I place a hand on his hip, pushing his pelvis back onto the mattress.
“Nu-uh... not yet, baby,” I hum, smirking to myself. Richard huffs in frustration, resting his body back against the bed. “You were pretty close, huh?” I mumble teasingly, running my tongue slowly against his hip. The pleasure in him had mounted quickly from having thought about me all day.
“You evil ...” he squeaks with frustration, his hands blindly running across my arms and over my shoulders. I settle down to kiss his stomach, my hands caressing his hips and thighs, and I feel Richard calming down beneath me. I kiss my way up his body again, finding his sweet lips. I run my wet tongue against his, pressing my body against his. “Ron, please... Stop teasing me, I can't...” he begs, pushing his pelvis up against mine.
“Hm... we'll see about that,” I smirk against his skin. I slowly kiss my way up his jawline, taking his earlobe in my mouth, giving it a nibble. He huffs, and I smile against his ear. I slide my fingers into his hair, pulling it slightly as I make my way down his neck, licking it languidly first, then breathing warm, moist breath onto his neck. I grind my pelvis into his before moving next to him, and he makes a disgruntled, grumpy noise. “Eager, are we?” I ask. He nods his head fervently, running his fingertips down my spine. I smile against his skin and carry on kissing down his body, nuzzling the soft patch of hair growing from his belly button down into his pelvis. I gently nip at his hips before moving down his body. I take him in my mouth again and flick my tongue against that sensitive spot on the underside of his cock before slowly running my tongue down his length. I take him again; bobbing my head slowly up and down, teasingly, achingly slow.
“Ron…” Richard huffs. “You’re going to kill me!”
“Nobody’s ever died from this,” I say as I slide him out of my mouth. I wrap my hand around his length and pump him a few times, looking up at him, his face screwed up somewhere between torture and pleasure.
“Are you sure? Because I've never felt like this before!” He moans, and I can't help but smile to myself, feeling satisfied.
“You like that? When I touch you like this?” He nods his head, letting out a long, shaky breath. “Are you close, baby?”
“God yes,” he pants, pushing his hips up to meet my hand. With a final pump, I remove my hand from his cock. When my hand leaves his flesh, he unleashes a string of expletives, grappling at the sheets.
“Fucking hell Ronja!” He goes to wrap his fingers around himself to finish the job, but I tap his hand away.
“Just trust me, baby,” I say, leaning up to kiss him, letting him taste himself on my lips. I begin inching my way back down the bed again. I kiss my way down his body, sliding my wet tongue against his warm skin, and he pushes his pelvis up against my body in the desperate search for more friction. Coming back to rest between his legs I kiss his hips and thighs, but ramp up the pleasure by slipping a hand up along his thigh, cupping his balls gently. He sighs and groans, writhing underneath me. When I eventually open my mouth again and run a wet tongue over his head, he shudders and shivers, his hand clamping hard against my shoulder. I run my wet, warm and soft tongue up the length of his shaft, my hand gently caressing his balls.
“God, baby.... buh....” Richard mutters, and I know he has no idea what he's saying. I close my mouth around his cock again, sucking on it gently, my hand around his balls. “Fuuuuck..” Hammond groans, the pleasure in him mounting much faster than I would have expected. He is just at the edge of coming when I remove my hand and my mouth from him abruptly. Richard suddenly relaxes back down on to the mattress, and his frustration is audible in his huffs. “Fuck, Ron, I was so close! Again!” He says, almost angrily.
“I know...” I smirk, giving his hip a light kiss, rubbing my palms slowly over his thighs and hips. I raise my head and look up at him, and his eyes meets mine. He's breathing heavily, his eyes black with lust.
“What the fuck are you doing to me?” He complains, unable to keep his hips still.
“Hmm, it's called edging...” I smirk teasingly, kissing his stomach tenderly. I kiss his skin as I wait for his writhing and his heavy breathing to subside a little.
“Edging? What's that?” Hammond breathes, having calmed down a little.
“Hm, you might see the point soon,” I mutter, kissing his hip. Richard's heavy breathing calms down slowly, his writhing getting slower against me. Once more I edge my way up the bed, my mouth finding that sensitive spot on his neck again, sucking at his skin. I tease him, sliding one fingertip along his length first, then adding another, stroking slowly. I wrap my hand around him again, pumping slowly, whispering softly in his ear. “Mmm, you have such a nice cock, Richard. It feels so good in my hand… my mouth… my pussy…” He groans, grabbing a handful of my arse. “Beginning to see the point now?” He squeaks out a noise in the affirmative, and I grip him a little tighter, pumping a little harder. I feel him tense up beneath me and I loosen my grip. “Not yet darling,” I murmur into his ear, letting my warm, wet breath envelop his ear. I keep a gentle hold on his cock, lazily moving my hand along his length as I kiss him again. I follow a similar path to the one I traced earlier, nipping at his collarbones, flicking his pebbled nipples one at a time, slowly making my way back down to his throbbing, wet cock, sticky with my spit and his precum. I press his hips down against the bed and take just the tip of him in my mouth again, swirling my tongue around until I feel him tense under me again. I move my kisses to his inner thigh, starting on one side before gently tugging and sucking each of his balls, one at a time.
“Ronja, I’m going to explode if you don’t touch me,” Richard groans, pressing himself into the mattress. “Please,” he whines, begging. Deciding it's time to put him out of his misery, I kiss my way across his hip and stomach, blindly finding his erect cock with my mouth again. I run my tongue around the head a few times, being rewarded with Hammond loud groans, his hips pushing upwards against my mouth again. Excitedly, I close my mouth around his cock, wrapping my hand around the base. I suck him off as my hand continues its ministrations. Richard groans loudly above me, unintelligible words spilling from his mouth. “Oh god, Ron, fuck,” he babbles, his hands tangling into my hair, pushing me down further on his cock. Ordinarily, I’d push back, but I brought this on myself and I eagerly swallow him down, eager to get Richard to come. I hum softly, adding vibrations to my mouth and throat, and it isn’t long before Richard finally comes undone. Richard groans loudly and his cock erupts into my mouth, his back arched, hips pressed against my face. He comes louder than I have ever heard him before, spilling himself down my tongue and throat. I decided before starting on this experiment that I was going to let him come into my mouth, something I have never experienced before. I keep my mouth closed on his cock as his orgasm washes over him, swallowing his salty, warm come. “Oh fuuuuu---” He groans for far longer than I would've thought. “Fucking hell, baby,” he groans, his orgasm finally receding. I slowly bob my head up and down as he rides out his orgasm, only stopping when Richard grabs a handful of my hair and holds me back. I oblige, swallowing one last time and wiping my lips of come and saliva. Richard and I have shared a fair few orgasms by now, but this was by far the longest he's had. Finally, I let his cock out of my mouth, and I kiss my way slowly up against his body until I am level with him again. Richard still seems lost in a reverie, breathing fast and heavy.
“You okay?” I whisper, kissing his lips.
“Muh.... uhuh,” he groans, his eyes still closed, kissing my back sloppily. “You taste salty,” he hums.
“Well, duuuh,” I mutter against his mouth, knowing he has just tasted himself.
“You naughty girl, huh?” He chuckles as he realizes why. “Fucking hell, Ronja... What the hell was that?”
“Did it feel good?” I hum, kissing his jaw.
“Gooood fuck yes,” he breathes.
“Then thank your lucky stars I read books about sex, huh?” I chuckle, kissing the tip of his nose teasingly.
“What the hell did you just do? What did you call it?”
“Edging, or teasing... It's when you stop right when you're on the cusp of coming and wait for a bit. The more you do it, the better the orgasm is. Or so I've read. Seemed to work, though, from my recent experiment?”
“I really need to read that book,” Richard hums, another little post-orgasm-shudder rippling through him. “Because I need to repay you for that favor.”
“I'll send you the link,” I said in a business-like manner, and he erupts into laughter.
“Fuck, I thought I had figured out most things about sex by now, thought I knew how everything it could feel like,” he sighs, hugging me closer and kissing my temple.
“Seems like you haven't after all?” I sigh, kissing his neck. “Can you imagine the fun we'll have exploring new things?”
“Bloody hell, you're going to be the death of me, Miss Solheim,” he growls. 
"Good thing I'm a nurse, then? I'll get you back to life, don't worry," I smirk, patting his chest reassuringly, and Richard chuckles. Sighing happily I caress his chest slowly, letting Richard enjoy his post-orgasmic bliss in peace. I don't expect anything in return, not straight away at any rate, for now I'm more than happy to lay against him and feel his warm body against mine. It doesn't take long for Richard to fall asleep, exhausted by my experiment with him, and I can't help it when I feel myself fall asleep too. I wake up an hour or so later, realizing it's only 8.30 in the evening. I debate whether or not to wake Richard, but decide to let him sleep, he's had a long day and a long drive. Getting up I put on some clothes to let the dogs out for a bathroom break. I have a quick snack and a drink and try to watch some telly, but all I can think about is the man sleeping naked upstairs, and how I miss his body. Despite it being barely 10 pm, I shut off the telly and turn off the lights, then make my way upstairs again. Undressing to my knickers I burrow back into bed, slipping my body underneath Richard's duvet and wrapping my arm around him. He doesn't stir at my touch, obviously sleeping the sleep of the dead. I gently kiss the back of his neck and let myself fall asleep.

Chapter Text

Something wakes me up, and I'm not sure what, but it causes me to sigh and stir a little. Suddenly I sense lips kissing and licking at my lower stomach, slowly and tenderly. I hum and squirm a little, my hand finding his shoulder and arm, running my palm across it.
“Morning, baby,” Richard says tenderly when he realizes I'm awake, his voice slightly muffled against the skin of my groin.
“Mmm, morning,” I breathe, enjoying his mouth against my body. Suddenly I realize he must've slipped my knickers off while I was sleeping, because I am completely sure I had a pair on when I crawled into bed last night. Knowing that I am awake now, Richards's mouth suddenly swoops down over my mound and his tongue finds my clit, lapping at it slowly with his wet, warm tongue. “Bloody hell, this is a really good morning,” I moan, burying a hand in his hair and grabbing a fistful of it, digging the back of my head into the pillow.
“You know... I woke up early...” He mumbles in between licks against my clit. “So I did some research...” he hums, his tongue sliding wetly against my clit every now and again. Then his mouth disappears from me completely, and I wrench my eyes open and look down at him. I am met with a mischievous grin.“So I've studied up... I'm gonna try this edging thing right now,” he says determinedly, pushing me down onto the mattress. He slowly kisses and licks his way up my body, briefly taking my nipple into his mouth and running his tongue around it in circles, and I wince with pleasure at the sensation. Edging further up on the bed he comes to rest on top of me, his lips kissing my neck tenderly. I spread my legs slightly to make room for him. “I'm going to drive you mad... the way you did with me earlier,” he promises emphatically. “Because that was the most amazing thing I've ever felt... And I want to make you feel the same way,” he breathes, kissing the very sensitive spot beneath my ear. I just sigh and moan at his kisses and touches. Mirroring what I had done to him earlier, he slowly kisses his way back down my body, briefly taking my nipple into his mouth and sucking on it before flicking his tongue roughly over it. My excitement increases with every inch his kisses go lower, and by the time his tongue is licking my groin, I'm already breathing heavily. Two fingers part my labia gently, and I groan loudly when I feel his warm and wet tongue against my clit which is already throbbing with lust. He laps lazily at my clit, and I run my fingers through his hair, sighing happily at the sensation.
“God, baby, that feels good,” I mumble, trying to restrain myself from bucking my hips up against his mouth. He increases the pace and pressure of his tongue against me, and I moan louder, unconsciously spreading my legs wider for him. He continues the action on my clit, and I am completely lost in it, groaning ever louder. Just as my legs begin to shake, he abruptly stops and I huff with frustration. “Fuck, Hammond!” I complain, writhing underneath him.
“See? It's really bloody frustrating,” he mumbles, his mouth now on my stomach. His hands push my hips down onto the mattress to stop me from writhing underneath him.
“Uhuh, it is,” I wince, trying to calm myself. He nuzzles his way up my stomach and between my breasts, his hand caressing my thigh. Eventually, his face is level with mine, and he gives me a pointed kiss, and I can taste traces of myself on his lips. “Have you calmed down yet?” He asks, an evil smirk visible on his face.
“Uhh... Yeah...” I sigh, trying to calm my own ragged breathing.
“I'm not convinced,” he says flatly. I take a few deep breaths, trying to calm my breathing and my body down.
“I'm trying...” I mutter, trying to think of sobering things.
“Hm... better,” he says, quietly but in control. “Ready for round two, then?” He giggles his goofy laugh, and all I can do is nod weakly at him, holding my breath in anticipation. He slides his way down the bed again, kissing my body every now and then, running his warm, firm tongue over my skin. He kisses my mound, just above my clit, and I feel his palm against my thigh sliding upwards. Two fingers slowly enter me, quickly followed by his tongue lapping at my clit. Expertly he arches his fingers upwards, finding my g-spot, and I moan loudly.
“Oh god baby, right there!” I exclaim, rocking against his fingers and his mouth.
“I found your spot, didn't I?” He hums against my pussy, and I can feel his smug smirk against me.
“God, yes,” I groan, spreading my legs even wider for him again. I arch my back and dig the back of my head into the pillow, my hips thrusting up against him. He begins moving his fingers faster, his tongue working firmer on me, and I lose it completely. “Oh god, fuck... right there, baby,” I wince, hardly aware of what I'm saying. “Please, don't stop!” When my legs start shaking again, he suddenly stops, his fingers and tongue disappearing from my pussy.
"FOR FUCKS SAKE!” I shout, banging my head back against the pillow in frustration.
“You were pretty close, huh?” He teases, echoing my question from before. “See what you did to me earlier?” He growls.
“You evil sod...” I sigh, writhing underneath him, feeling like one more touch or lick could've sent me over the edge. Richard edges his way up the bed again, then takes my lips in a slow, deep kiss.
“See how this is torture?” He points out, brushing his lips teasingly against mine.
“Uh-huh,” I breathe against his mouth. He runs two fingertips over my jaw and to my mouth, and I kiss them, tasting myself on them.
“Feel how good you taste, baby?” He breathes, and I suck them hungrily, running my tongue over his fingertips. “Fuck, that's hot....” he groans, and I can feel him staring at me.
“Please... Make me come, baby, I'm going mad,” I beg, blindly finding his mouth again, kissing him desperately.
“Hmm... maybe,” he says mysteriously, and I feel how his mouth makes its way down my body again, kissing and licking at my skin, his mouth sucking at my nipple for a moment. Coming to rest between my legs again, I feel how Richard's tongue attacks my clit, faster and firmer than before.
“OH god, fuuuuck!” I groan, feeling like an orgasm is approaching much faster than it ever had before, I have no way of slowing it down or controlling it. “Fuck I'm gonna come!” To finish me off, Richard slips two fingers inside me again and arches them upwards, hitting my g-spot. And within seconds, I feel myself losing all control, my pussy seizing up in an orgasm harder than anything I'd felt before. I don't even know what I'm saying, I just let out a groan that turns into a scream as the orgasm washes through me, and I buck and roll my hips up against his mouth and fingers, my hands clutching hard at fistfuls of sheets. He keeps working on me until he feels my orgasm recedes and my pussy relaxes around his fingers. “Fuuucking hell,” I groan, shuddering hard. I pant quickly, trying to regain my breath and my senses as I let go of the sheets. I'm hardly aware of the fact that Richard inches up the bed again. A light, but loving kiss on my lips brings me gently back to reality. Richard is lying next to me, his arm around my waist. I am still breathing raggedly and heavily.
“You okay, baby?” He whispers tenderly, brushing his nose against mine.
“Buh....fuck,” I mumble, trying to catch up with my senses.
“You're trembling, baby,” Richard observes, feeling how my body shivers and shakes against his.
“And it's your bloody fault,” I grumble, wrapping my arm around him in return, pulling him close. Richard soothingly runs a palm lazily over my shoulder and down my arm. “So? How did I do with the whole edging thing?” He asks in a quiet voice, giving me a single kiss on the neck.
“Honestly I'm not sure that orgasm is over yet,” I shudder, making Richard chuckle quietly. He gives me a moment to come to my senses. Eventually, he brushes his nose gently against my cheek and gives me a kiss so tender and gently it itself makes me shudder.
“I'm sorry, I should've done that last night...” he murmurs, sounding regretful and giving my forehead a kiss. “I sort of... conked out, sorry,” he adds in a quiet, ashamed mumble.
“Oh, Richard,” I sigh, squeezing him against me. “You didn't owe me anything. That whole idea of couples coming at the same time, or keeping score... It's just a rose-tinted porn fantasy, or from bad erotic literature, it's not the reality! And I know enough about sex to realize that. You must do, too?”
“Hmm...” he mutters, sounding unsure. I pull away from him a little, but just enough to be able to meet his eyes. I look at him pointedly but place my palm on the side of his face at the same time.
“Listen, baby... I'm going to be really honest with you about how I think about sex, okay? Movies give you this idea of sex, that everything's supposed to be perfect and you both look like porn stars and you always come at the same time, and it's just bollocks. It's not real life. Making you come was more than enough for me last night, I didn't expect anything in return, at least not right away. I was just really proud at how loudly I could make you come,” I say with a self-contented smirk, giving him a mischievous look. To my surprise, his face actually blushes under my palm.
“Was I loud?” He whispered with an intense hiss like he was worried his parents had heard him.
“Mmm, a bit. But I know I was even louder this morning,” I admit. “See? Sometimes I make you come. Sometimes you make me come. And sometimes we're lucky and get to share the experience at the same time.” Richard just looks into my eyes, his mind obviously working hard. “You're not used to thinking this way, are you?”
“I... um, no, I might be a bit stuck from expectations of stupid... movies and male fantasy,” he mutters, looking even more ashamed.
“Honestly, let go of that thought, will you? Those expectations? Just... being with you, being naked with you, having sex with you and you being inside me, all of that always feels amazing.” As I say this he almost blushes again, obviously not being used to a woman talking this honestly about sex. “Coming is not the be-all and end-all of sex, the journey of getting there is just as exciting. The number one killer of good sex is feeling that pressure of making the other one come. I would hate to think that you were stressing about that when we had sex. Never stress about that, please? If you come before me, I won't get upset. And vice versa. You with me?” I ask, looking up at Richard. He nods slowly, but his brows are still furrowed, trying to get used to this way of thinking. “The key is to just... tell each other what you want, right? What works? Go slower, go faster, be gentle, right there, take me harder... And if you're close to coming and I'm not, I'd rather make you come than you making me come. See what I mean? You can always make me come ten minutes later right?”
“Yeah, I guess...” he mumbles, still not sounding certain. I place my palm against his face again, running my thumb against his cheek, seeking out his gaze.
“Richard, listen to me: Your ability to make me come at the same time as you do, has absolutely nothing to do with how much we want and love each other. And even more importantly: it has nothing to do with how much of a man you are, if that's what you were raised to believe. If you can't make me come sometimes, it has nothing to do with you, or how much I love you or want you. Give it a few hours and you'll suddenly make me come louder than ever.”
“How many sex books have you read?” He asks a little intimidated not daring to look at me.
“Not that many,” I laugh. “But I've had that experience of having sex with a guy, and the idiot goes 'come on, Ronja,' as he's fucking me, like I'm a racehorse he can goad me over the line with just his words, while the idiot does nothing other than what he's done to me in the last... way too long, and it's the biggest turn-off ever. Like what, you groaning “come on” is going to get me come, and not anything you do with your cock or your body or anything else? I'm not a fucking racehorse!” At this Richard laughs loudly at first, then his face suddenly falls in horror.
“God, now I'm terrified I've said something similar,” Richard sighs quietly, staring at me with eyes wide in horror.
“You've told me to come for you, but the few times you have, I've been just about to anyway,” I smile at him, giving him a kiss. “See? You know me, and know when I'm close. So don't worry, baby. If you tell me you're close, I'll let you come. And you make it up to me later, right?”
“I'll make every effort to, yeah... Because I looooove making you come,” he says emphatically, kissing me deeply and pushing his tongue against mine.
“Like you said to me the first time we slept together: we have all the time in the world to make each other come. Over.. and over....” I hum. “Remember that?”
“Yeah, I remember that. God, I'll never forget that, our first time, you and me together,” Richard says, squeezing my body against himself. “I have never been more turned on in my life.”
“And you make me more turned on than anyone ever has before. But the orgasm isn't the prize. You and me being naked together and having sex, that's the prize. Feeling your naked, warm body against mine, you touching me everywhere, having you inside me, being intimate with the one I love, that's the best feeling ever. And the orgasms that might follow are just a very...” I kiss his neck as I say this. “A very good bonus.” Richard squeezed me tight, burying his face against my neck and giving it a kiss.
“God, you should have been a sex-ed teacher, I wish I knew half of this when I was about 17,” he hums, nuzzling my neck lovingly. At this, I can't help but laugh, clapping my arms harder around him.
“That's maybe what I should do next, huh? Specialize in sexology?” I giggle, kissing his temple.
“Hm, maybe... but then again, I want you and your sex secrets all to myself,” he says emphatically, squeezing me hard against himself.
“God, I love this, Richard,” I sigh, kissing his nose. “We're here naked together and I... Maybe it sounds like I know a lot about sex, but this... Being naked in your arms, I feel... Like I belong here. It's all safe and natural and I'm not sure I've ever felt this way before.”
“Really?” Richard says quietly, sounding disbelieving.
“Really, baby. I love you, you know?” There was a moment of silence.
“Do you know what I feel every time you say that?” Richard almost whispers.
“No?” I whisper back.
“You telling me you love me, I... can't think of anything better.”
“We're a bit mad about each other aren't we?” I giggle, kissing his temple. “Well, Richard... If you were unsure: I love you. I love you so fucking much, okay?”
“Really?” Richard squeaked, and I had never heard him more subdued.
“I love you with everything I have, okay?” I assured him, kissing him everywhere I could reach.

Chapter Text

A gentle kiss on my cheek rouses me from my sleep. I give a grateful hum and open my eyes, squinting against the harsh morning light. As my eyes get used to the brightness, Richard's face slowly comes into view, his head on his pillow, smiling sleepily at me.
“Morning, love,” I croak, giving him a tired smile and a quick kiss before resting my head back down on the pillow. I know today is Saturday, Richard doesn't have any work and I am still on sick leave. Last night we had talked about what we were doing today, and Richard decided to leave it up to me. And I in turn decided to wait until today to make up my mind, thinking that I'd decide based on how I felt in the morning and what I felt like doing. I stretch and yawn, rubbing my face, trying to become marginally more awake.
“You're cute when you yawn,” Richard giggles.
“Yawning puppies are cute. Me, not so much.”
“You're my yawning puppy,” he insists, wrapping an arm around me and pulling me in for a hug.
“Wow, Hammond, that's really... soppy,” I chuckle, running my fingers through his hair.
“Yeah, you make me that way,” he says softly, still hugging me. Relinquishing his grip on me he pulls back to look at me. “Decided what we're going to do today?”
“Mno... Not quite. I'll think about it over breakfast, yeah?” I promise, giving him a quick kiss before getting out of bed. I already have a vague plan, but I'm not sure he's going to like it. Or even go along with it. We throw on some comfy clothes and pad downstairs. I head for the dogs' room to let them out for a wee, while Richard sets about making toast and tea. This has become our morning routine over the past two months since my accident. I've hardly been back at my own house since, just a few times to get my mail or pick up more clothes or bits and pieces. I am still on sick leave, the doctors had insisted on at least 3 to 4 months of complete rest. Just the ribs alone would take up to 12 weeks before they were completely healed, while my collar bone and skull fracture would take 6-8 weeks. But the doctors are extra cautious because I'd had subdural bleeds and a seizure after leaving the hospital. But I'm not complaining over the long downtime, reluctantly admitting that I probably need it as I don't feel quite like myself yet. A few times I've offered to go home for a few days, just to get out of Richard's hair for a bit, but he never lets me. He seems to be unable to let his fears and worries for me go, and has trouble letting me out of his sight. But it's also the good part of being on sick-leave, being able to spend all my time here, enjoying my time with Richard when he isn't away for work, which is less frequent now that the last shoot of the new Top Gear season is over. And we can never get enough of spending time with each other. Leaning against the door frame I watch the dogs absent-mindedly as they run around the yard, thinking about my plan for the day. Having gotten the dogs back inside and sorted out their breakfast, I return to the kitchen where a cup of tea and a slice of toast is waiting for me. Richard has been out to get the newspaper, which he's now rifling through. Taking a bite of my toast, I open my phone and check out today's weather forecast, the weather being something that can ruin my plan. By the looks of things, it isn't going to. Putting down the newspaper, Richard clears his throat and looks at me.
“So? Figured out what we're going to do today?” He prompts, curious and impatient.
“I, um... I was thinking maybe we could go for a bike ride?” I ask, giving him my sweetest puppy-dog eyes. Richard takes a moment to consider this.
“Oh yeah? Think you're up for that?” He gives me a worried look, one I've seen on his face a thousand times since the accident.
“Yeah, I think so. And I don't want to be a passenger, I want to drive a bike on my own!” I clarify. I can tell by the change in Richard's expression that I had been right to expect him to hate the idea.
“Ronja, baby, no...” He sighs, shaking his head, putting the newspaper down. “Two and a half months ago you nearly died. You're just about healed up, and your ribs might actually not be healed completely yet. And you had that seizure, and...”
“Richard, come on!” I cut him off. “I have done nothing but potter around this house and sleep for the past ten weeks. I'm getting really, really bored here. I'm not bored with being with you, I'll never be bored with that, but I'm bored with being cooped up here. I want you and me to go on an adventure again. And I know that I almost died, Richard, trust me, but like I said to you before... That experience made me want to try and live a little before I actually do die.” I reach over the table and squeeze his hand.
“Yeah, I get that, Ronja, and I miss going on adventures with you too, but this is... too soon,” he finishes.
“So... What? You're going to keep me locked up here all tucked away safe for the rest of my life? You nearly died in a crash too, but you still get to race around in all kinds of crazy vehicles, don't you, going on adventures?” I'm not angry with him, I understand his fears, worried something might happen to me again. As much as I have appreciated his fussing over me since the accident, I am starting to become frustrated with being treated like an antique Ming vase. It's so different from how we were before, when we would so often tear around the countryside together on ATVs, bikes or a banged-up old Land Rover, a lot of it while being off-road. Getting mucky, getting stuck, falling over, getting bumps and scrapes, but having the time of our lives.
“No, Ronja, I don't want to lock you up in here, of course I don't, I just...” His voice trails off, knowing that I was getting a little fed up with hearing how worried he was about something happening to me again.
“Richard, you got me into motorcycles in the first place, I'd never even sat on one before I met you. You practically harassed me into even trying driving one,” I point out, remembering the day he first got me to try this light little red Honda motor-cross bike, and I wobbled around in his front yard and driveway for an hour feeling like a five-year-old learning to ride a bicycle, before getting the hang of it. And then I quickly went from having gotten the hang of it, to falling in love with it. Since then I have tried a lot of Richard's bikes, slowly graduating to heavier, faster, more complicated bikes.
“Yes I know, I know, but... Back then I didn't know I was... ” he stops talking again, not quite knowing what he was about to say. “Know that I was going to fall in love with you. And after I realized I had, I tried to convince myself I wasn't worried about you, but I always was.”
“Hammond, if you didn't want me driving motorcycles, why did you buy me a leather bike suit that cost a bloody arm and a leg for my birthday? Not to mention that custom Arai helmet that cost about the same?” I sigh exasperatedly, raising an eyebrow at him.
“Because, I figured that if you insisted on driving about on motorcycles with me, I wanted you to be as safe as possible!” he argues defensively. I just look at him, raising my eyebrows again, trying to persuade him with my eyes to change his mind. “Besides,” he continues after a long moment of us staring at each other. “You still have a few lessons left and an actual driver's exam to pass before you have a license!” He looks at me like he thinks he's won the argument.
“That's a risk I'm willing to take,” I shrug.
“I'm not paying your fine if we get pulled over,” he says stubbornly.
“Of course you're not, I would never have expected you to!” I say loudly, actually feeling a little angry at him for thinking he'd have to pay my fine.
“And you'll get points on a license you don't even have yet!” He continues stubbornly. Having had enough of this argument I get out of my chair, walk around the table and nudge Richard, making him move his chair away from the table so I can sit in his lap. I wrap my arms around his shoulders and run my fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, looking at him.
“Hammond...” I sigh, leaning my forehead against his. “We can't just stay in this house forever, thinking we'll be safe from all the dangers in this world. I could fall down the stairs and break my neck. You could have a heart attack tomorrow. Life will happen to us no matter if we sit here in this kitchen or go out there and drive motorcycles. We're not in control of everything in this life, we never will be, and we can't kid ourselves into thinking that we ever will. But we can go out there and have fun, but try to be sensible while doing it?” There is a long moment of silence where all I can hear is the tap tapping of dogs' claws against the tiled floor in the next room.
“Yeah, yeah... I guess...” he sighs eventually, his shoulders sagging, unwilling to admit it.
“You have no idea how much I've loved spending time with you the last 10 weeks, because we're finally together. But, I just... I miss parts of how we were before, before the crash and everything. We weren't afraid of anything, we just went out and did whatever the hell we wanted to, like eager kids and the world was our playground. I have never laughed so much in my life. I need a day of that, of my life feeling somewhat normal and not constantly being about my broken body and brain. Please?” I plead, looking into his eyes. He closes his eyes for a second, then gives a nod.
“Okay, baby. We'll go on a motorcycle ride,” he sighs, giving in, and to my surprise he actually breaks out into a smile at the prospect. “Let's pack a backpack with some food and some blankets to sit on, and we'll go for a long drive and have a picnic somewhere no one will ever think to look for us. Somewhere pretty. Sounds okay?” At this, I break out into a wide smile.
“That's.... exactly what I wanted,” I smile, then give him a grateful, deep kiss. “I promise, I'll be careful. No lairy stuff, just... Cruising along, being careful.”
“Good girl,” he smiles. “I have an idea of where to go.”
“Oh yeah?” I smile happily, relieved now that I know Richard is on board.
“Yeah, we can go out to Brecon Beacons in South Wales. It's two hours from here, good biking roads. And really pretty. I might even know where we could have our picnic,” he smiles, his eyes glittering excitedly. At this I just give him a grateful hug, feeling relieved. He holds me for a while, his hands caressing my back, his breathing slow and steady against my neck. “Okay, so we better get started packing lunch and such?” He suggests. I nod eagerly, incredibly excited about going on an adventure. We both had quick showers, separately for once. Hoping this drive might turn sexy, I put on my favorite dark purple lace knickers and matching lace bra, then put on a fitted t-shirt and tights as bulky clothing never goes well under a leather bike suit. Richard let's the dogs out for another meander and bathroom break, considering we'll be gone for many hours. While he does that, I busy myself with packing food and rummage around the house for lots of blankets to sit on. Having finished with that I close the door to the house, cross the yard and find Richard on one knee in his bike shed, checking something on a bike.
“All right, so what am I driving?” I ask, dropping the packed backpacks to the floor as I enter. I always left that part up to him. He tosses me a quick glance, and he freezes for a minute as he sees my t-shirt, quickly reading the text on it. It's a black one, with a retro-style drawing of a pin-up girl riding a bicycle. 'You would be loud too if I was riding you' was written above and below the drawing.
“What are you wearing?” he exclaims, then starts laughing loudly, but there's something else in his eyes too. A trace of lust.
“A t-shirt? I bought it aaages ago, but I always chickened out on wearing it whenever we went on bike rides,” I admit, almost a little embarrassed. Richard gets up from the floor and approaches me.
“You know, I'm kinda glad you did or I'm sure I would have crashed at some point,” he smirks, leans in, and gives me a kiss. “My brain needs blood to work. Then again... I like it though, very naughty girl vibe. Rawr.” His eyes are glittering, he's turned on all his flirty charm now and I feel my heart beat faster. Thinking I actually want to get out of the shed before we tear the clothes off each other I clear my throat and ask again.
“So, what am I riding? Apart from you later?” I choose this wording on purpose, and Richard's eyebrow shoots up and he gives me a pointed, warning look.
“That,” he says simply, pointing at a black and green Kawasaki Z900.
“That? I haven't seen that before, I think?” I remark, inspecting it more closely. But then again, keeping track of all the vehicles Richard owns at any given time isn't easy. “I know. I bought it a while ago... For you, actually. BUT!" He adds quickly as I whip around to look at him, my mouth open. "That was before the crash,” he finishes pointedly. My mouth still hanging open my gaze slowly trails from him to the bike, and then back again.
“You... what?” I squeak, my eyes wide with surprise and shock.
“Yes, yes, I bought it for you,” he admits with a drone. “But when you had that crash I decided I would never ever give you a bike. Ever.”
“But... when did you buy it?” I ask, still utterly shocked and a little confused.
“Oh I don't remember, it was early in the spring I think, knowing biking season was coming soon. Before we went to Italy. And you were taking your lessons so I thought I might surprise you with it when you got your license. Or something,” he shrugs his shoulders, talking like he'd bought me a pair of leather gloves.
“You went and bought me a bike and we weren't even together?” I give him an incredulous look, still gaping stupidly at him.
“And I would have given it to you even if we weren't. Because watching you riding a bike, and how much fun you were having, was always such a joy. And maybe I was hoping that buying you a motorcycle would make you realize how mad I was about you,” he admits with a shy smile, reaching out for my hand, and I squeeze his in return.
“Richard, you're mad. I can't... You can't just give me a bike,” I protest. “How much was that thing? Fifteen thousand?”
“More like twenty-five,” Richard mumbles, looking at his own fiddling hands. I have known Richard for well over a year now, and I remember it being a culture shock when we first started to hang out together. The huge house, all the fancy cars and bikes, the surprise trip he'd arranged for us in Italy, the expensive watches he wore. I remember thinking at one point 'how many different Barbour-jackets can a man own?' But I had eventually gotten used to it, at least to some extent. Richard hadn't come from money, he'd grown up in a normal middle-class family, and that upbringing had kept him down to earth. The first time he came over to my place I was mortified, it was a tiny linked house with one bedroom and a bathroom the size of a fag packet, but he'd seemed just as at home there as he did in his own house. Which was what made me relax. But I still have a hard time accepting these expensive gifts from him. When he bought me the motorcycle gear for my birthday I thanked him by punching his shoulder and then crying a little. And this was a lot more than a helmet and a leather suit. “It's ultra-light, and a really good bike, it's a good compromise, a good road bike but can do some off-road stuff as well. But please don't, not for another... ten years or so. Oh, and it looks gorgeous, just like you. And yes I can buy you a bike because I already have. And you're just going to have to deal with it.”
“But you said it's not mine, that you wouldn't give me a bike after all?” I point out, approaching the bike, running my hand lovingly across it.
“Mno. It's mine. But it has your name on it.” He makes his way over to me and the bike, and points at the paintwork on top of the gas tank, which says Ronja in flowing, beautiful lettering, the color matching the green on the bike. I look over at Richard and cock my head at him, giving him a grateful look.
“That's so sweet, thank you,” I say quietly, squeezing his hand, trying not to cry. “So, can I take my bike that isn't mine out for a ride now?” I bounce on my feet in childlike, impatient excitement.
“It's not yours, I haven't technically given it to you!” He says tetchily. Whining like a child I point at the letters on the tank of the bike.
“But it has my name on it!” I pout.
“All right, all right, fine. You can take your bike that isn't yours out for a ride.” he sighs, closing his eyes in defeat. I give a loud squeal of joy.
“You're too bloody good to me,” I smile, giving him a hug and a long kiss.
“Just know that if you end up getting hurt or killed on that bike, I will actually die from the guilt,” Richard sighs, looking worried again. Then he rallies, and straightens his shoulders, remembering this was supposed to be a day of fun adventure. He hitches a smile on his face and looks at me. “Go on, suit up, we should get going.” One wall in the bike shed has a long row of hangers, with a shelf over it for shoes and helmets, and I find my black Dainese two-piece leather suit and motorcycle boots, putting it on. I rummage around in a basket full of driving gloves to try and find the left glove, cursing and thinking we'd need to find a system for gloves less messy than this. I pick my purple, custom Arai helmet off a shelf, and turn to Hammond, ready for an adventure. He's already dressed in his biking gear, black leather as well, biking boots and gloves in hand. He approaches me slowly, a rather mysterious look on his face.
“I have a confession to make,” he says, wrapping his arm around my back.
“Oh?” I say, raising an eyebrow at him.
“I didn't buy you that leather suit just to keep you safe.”
“O..kay?” I ask, frowning at him.
“I knew it would keep you safer, but I also bought it because I had a fantasy about how fucking gorgeous and sexy you'd look in it,” he admits, staring at me hungrily. I look at him for a moment, a little surprised.
“Okay, so now I'm in it. Do I come anywhere close to your fantasy?” I ask, squeezing his leather-clad bum just to tease him.
“Oh god, fucking yes, you look even better than I could have imagined,” he says quickly, then takes my lips in a feverish kiss.
“This is gonna be a fun day of adventure, isn't it?” I ask against his lips, and he just hums his agreement, kissing me again. Managing to tear ourselves from each other we each get the keys for our bikes and don our backpacks full of food, drinks, and blankets.
“Just... please be careful, baby. Okay? No wheelies or lairy takeovers or going way over the speed limit? I can't deal with that right now,” he begs.
“I have never done a wheelie in my life! I'm not gonna start now!" I laughed, but he kept looking at me sternly. "I promise, love. I just want to be out on the road and have fun with you, but I'm not gonna be a yobbo.” He smiles at me, looking pleased.
“Good.” I straddle the Kawasaki and gently manoeuvrer it out of the shed, then wait for Hammond. We both had helmets with headphones in them so we could talk to each other or listen to music. Looking at him we were both standing outside the shed, each straddling a bike, our visors open. “You ready?” I ask, and he just nods.
“Okay, you're going to drive ahead of me, so I can keep an eye on you. Don't argue with me on this,” Richard adds quickly, raising a warning hand to me as I open my mouth to protest. But he's making it very clear this isn't up for discussion. “I'll give you directions over the mic, all right?” I nod my understanding. He shuts his visor and so do I, then he gestures at me, and I know he wants to see if I remember how to start a bike. So I put into gear and kick it into life, looking at Richard with a proud face.
“Fucking hell, you're perfect,” he sighs into the microphone, sounding proud of me. Then he kicks his own bike into life. I set off first, and for the first five minutes, I'm panicking a little, thinking this was a mistake. It's a brand new bike, I've never driven it before and I have to figure out the gears and the balance, how it handles. Thankfully, the ability to drive a motorcycle quickly returns to me, and the bike is easy to drive, light and nimble. After about an hour we stopped to have a rest and get something to drink.
“You doing okay?” He asks, that worried look back on his face, even though he's asked me the same thing while we were driving.
“I'm loving it, Hammond,” I smile, taking a swig of my soda. “I really needed this.”
“So nothing hurts?” He niggles. “Your shoulder? Ribs?”
“No, nothing. It's just fun and exciting. I had five minutes of slight panic in the beginning, before I remembered how to drive bikes again. And I've never driven this one, so I had to figure out the handling.”
“Yeah I did notice,” Hammond admits, the worry back in his eyes. “But I decided to be brave and give you a minute to figure it out, and you did, you clever girl.” He breaks out into a smile and he looks a little proud. Inching closer to me on the bench, he gives me a kiss on the head and then on my lips. I quickly look around, slightly worried that someone is going to see us. Richard is recognized everywhere he goes, especially anywhere in the UK, and if someone has seen us it is guaranteed to blow up in the news within the hour. Mindy knows, our friends know, his parents know, but the story hasn't broken to the world yet. We had talked about it, how we would handle it, but Richard wanted to shield me from that whirlwind until I was healed up from the accident. He decided I didn't need that media storm on top of recovering from major trauma, and he is probably right. But I know the day is coming soon, because I'm almost mended. After our tea break we drive for another hour, and I feel more alive than I have done in what feels like years. We drive into Wales, and I love the landscape, not getting enough of it. I don't even need music, I just want to watch. Richard has calmed down now, and he lets me follow him as he leads the way, loving watching the backside of him driving a motorcycle. Eventually, we stop at a lookout point, surrounded by trees, overlooking a lake. “I thought we'd stop here!” Richard's voice says in my earbuds. I just turn off the ignition, thinking he's chosen a beautiful spot. Still sitting on the bike I take my helmet off and hang it on the handlebar, then open my leather jacket. I watch as Richard habitually parks his bike and gets off it, walks a bit away, and opens the backpack, finding the blankets and spreading them out on the grass. He deposits the backpack by the side of the blankets, then makes his way back to me, looking determined.
“Do you know what?” He asks, wrapping his arms around me as I am still straddling the Kawasaki.
“Mno, what?” I admit, cocking my head at him but also wrapping my hands around him.
“Looking at you, riding this bike, in this leather suit, has made me endure an erection for the past three hours,” he grumbles, looking uncomfortable
“I... I'm sorry?” I proffer while trying to choke a giggle.
“You drive me fucking crazy,” he says with a low growl. “You looking like this. That t-shirt, the leathers, you driving that bike. It's like my ultimate fantasy.” As he says this, he finds the button and zip of my leather trousers slowly, and then determinedly slips his hand inside, navigating his way passed my black tights and my knickers. Two fingers slide along my slit, finding my clit then start to rub against it, very slowly.
“Richard, fuck, no, not here... What if someone sees us?” I hiss, looking around us to check that we're alone.
“We're in the middle of fucking nowhere, Ronja...” he breathes, his face inches from mine, rubbing my clit a little faster. His fingers are already having an effect on me, my breathing getting heavier, the urge to grind down against his hand rising in me. He leans into me, his lips brushing over mine.
“Does that feel nice?” He whispers huskily.
“Uh-huh, yeah,” I wince, biting my lower lip. I feel myself grinding against his hand and the saddle of the Kawasaki, wanting more. Richard closes the last gap between us and he kisses me as slowly as his fingers are working on me, just teasing. My arms are wrapped around his shoulders, but he still has his leather jacket on, and it feels like a barrier. Still being kissed I undo the zip of his jacket and slide it off his shoulders and down his arms, letting it just fall to the ground. Finally, I can wrap my arms around his shoulder and caress the nape of his neck. His hand down my knickers occupies almost all my attention, and I grind down against his hand again, groaning against his mouth, my breath already ragged.
Suddenly his hand stops, and he pulls away from me.
“Get over here, right fucking now,” he says desperately. I can feel my own wetness on his hand as it closes around mine, and he pulls me off the bike, dragging me towards the blankets. He slides my leather jacket off, then he pulls both my leather trousers and black tights past my hips and down, until I can step out of them and kick them away.
“Richard, what if someone comes here?” I ask again in between frantic kisses.
“I don't really fucking care. No one's gonna find us here anyway,” he assures me again, pulling my t-shirt up over my head and tossing it to the side. He leans away from me a little and scans my body slowly. “You wanted this to happen, didn't you? At least you hoped it would, since you decided to wear that today,” he says, staring at the matching lace panties and bra. I pull him close by grabbing his t-shirt, and I lean close to him, hovering over his mouth.
“Mmmmaybe...?” I whisper in the most innocent voice I can conjure, and he smirks as he sees right through me. I kiss him hungrily as I undo his leather trousers and pull them and the baselayer he had underneath off. “Bike riding requires too many fucking clothes,” I huff impatiently as I make quick work of taking his t-shirt off.
“Come here,” Richard says, pulling me down with him onto the blanket. Sitting upright he slips his arms around me and finds the back of my bra, fiddling for a second to undo it. Then he slowly slides the straps off my shoulders with a tender touch, removing the bra completely.
“Lie down,” I say simply, pushing on his chest, forcing him backward. He does as I want, and peers at me expectantly. Still sitting next to him I lean towards him a little, place my hand on his stomach and let it slide down over his boxers, palming his erection firmly, staring into his eyes all the while. A moan of relief escapes Richard as he finally feels me touch him, obviously having been a little tortured in his tight leather pants today. Without saying anything I pull at the elastic on his boxers, and he raises his bum enough for me to pull them down over his hips and off him. I drape my body along his, missing the heat of his body, and he wraps an arm around my back. Resting my head on his shoulder I kiss him deeply, and my hand seeks out his erection again, my palm closing around him. Slowly, teasingly I begin working on him, getting my revenge for how slow he'd been with me earlier. He bucks his hips a little, and pushes himself into my hand impatiently, wanting more friction.
“Ron, I've been teased and tortured enough today,” he growls against my lips. His free hand shoots to my knickers, trying to tug them downwards, which turns out to be a challenge with just one hand.
“Here,” I say, letting go of his cock to help him get them past my hips. Knickers out of the way I lie down next to him again, kissing him deeply, relishing the feel of my naked body against his.
“Come here,” Richard says determinedly, wrapping his arm around my lower back and pulling me on top of him. Straddling him, I support myself on my arms, my forehead against Richard's. I grind down against him a few times, and he gives a relieved moan as he finally feels some friction, fingers digging into my hips.
“This is what I always wished would happen on any and every bike ride of ours,” Richard says huskily, grinding his hard cock against my mound. I grind back down against him, feeling that fire of lust in the pit of my stomach. I feel as frantic as he does now, the situation we're in heightens all of my senses. We're outside, in nature, and we are running the risk of someone stumbling upon us at any time. Yet here we are, buck naked together, and that thought is thrilling.
“Fuck, baby,” I moan, grinding down against him again over and over.
“I need to be inside you,” Richard slurs, and with a hand he guides himself inside me.
“Oh fuck, good!” I cry, feeling him fill me up. I lay still for a moment, just savoring the feeling of being connected with him. Slowly, I begin moving my hips, rocking against him. He blindly finds my mouth and starts kissing me hungrily, moaning with pleasure every now and then. All shyness and fear of someone seeing us completely forgotten, I sit up straight and then resume riding him, knowing Hammond loves this view. Every now and then I change the angle of how I move against him, sometimes I raise my hips and let him thrust in and out of me, sometimes I just rock and grind against him. It is the middle of august and slightly overcast, and straddling Hammond, away from the warmth of his body, I feel the cold air against me, my nipples going hard. “Wait, baby, give me a second,” I plead, slowing to a halt. Looking around us I find my biker leather jacket, putting it on to warm my icy-cold nipples. I begin rocking on him again, a little more slowly and considerate now, enjoying every moment of it. His hands are on my hips, controlling my pace. And then suddenly Richard's hands clamp on my hips, making me stop again.
“Baby, wait...” he huffs.
“Why?” I ask, feeling frustrated at another interruption. I just want to ride him, find our orgasms. Him still inside me, he fumbles around us, but eventually finds his phone, showing it to me.
“You, naked, with that leather jacket, is seriously the sexiest thing I've ever seen. And I want to remember you like this for the rest of my life. So I want to take a picture of you. Of us,” he admits, holding up his phone, almost looking a little insecure.
“Really?” I huff, grinding down against him once again, teasing him.
“Fuck yes,” he moans. 
“Do whatever you want,” I groan, beginning to grind down on his hard cock again. Even this felt thrilling, being taken pictures of like this. No one had ever taken a picture of me naked or while having sex in my entire life, and I thought no one ever would. I hear the shutter of the phone going off several times as I ride him, me groaning my pleasure. “Did you get any good ones?” I ask, raising an eyebrow at him as I look into his eyes, my hips still moving.
“Fuck yes... But please, baby... touch yourself,” he begs, and completely unable to refuse him my hand drops down to my clit, beginning to work on myself. My eyes closed now, I just ride Hammond's cock, him rocking up against me and me rubbing hard against my clit. I heard several more shutter clicks from the phone. “God, you're so hot...” Richard groans, me still grinding on his cock and rubbing on my own clit. The photo session must be over now, because I feel both of Richard's hands back on my thighs, caressing them. I place my hands over his, caressing his hands with my thumbs. There are no more distractions now, and I turn all my focus into what my hips are doing, grinding down against him. Needing more friction I lean forwards, supporting my weight on my arms, vaguely appreciating that my clavicle doesn't seem to mind anymore. I can feel that intense itch of anticipation inside me, just chasing that thrust that would send me over the edge and make everything explode. Richard's arms are clamped around my lower back in a vice-like grip, his hips are bucking up to meet my thrusts. I know by the sounds he's making and by the sharp, frantic way he's moving that he's just as close as me. Leaning down even further I feel my breasts press up against his chest as I kiss his neck.
“Come on, baby, I thought me riding you would make you louder than this,” I breathe heavily into his ear. I'm riding him harder now, and my hot words in his ear make him groan louder than he has before. “You're gonna make me come, baby,” I breathe again. “You're gonna make me come so hard.” My voice went up in pitch with those last words, as I sense the orgasm is only a few thrusts away. Finally, with a sharp thrust, I am sent over the edge, intense pleasure cascading through me. I moan and wail against Richard's neck, louder than I ever have allowed myself to be with him before. Hoping the orgasm won't recede just yet, I keep grinding hard down against him, prolonging the pleasure but also chasing Richard's orgasm now. Suddenly his hips stop moving for a few seconds, his arms let go of my lower back and he digs his fingers hard into my shoulders.
“Fuck, Rooon!” He groans as he comes inside me, and I keep moving my hips through his orgasm, hoping maybe I could prolong his too. When Richard relinquishes his grip on my shoulders, I collapse down next to him, and we're both breathing hard and fast. He turns on his side to face me and snakes his arm under my head and wraps it around my back, the other he wraps around my waist, pulling me close. I slip a leg between his and wrap my arm around him, wanting to be as close to him as possible. We lay entangled like this for a while, caressing each other's backs as our breathing and heart rates slowly goes back to normal. My eyes are closed, and suddenly I'm surprised by a long, deep kiss on my lips. “That was fucking amazing,” Richard whispers against my lips, and I receive another grateful kiss.
“Mhmm,” I hum, words still beyond me. “Hammond, do we have another blanket or something with us, I'm getting cold,” I say after a while. I don't want to get dressed yet, I want to lay naked against Richard for a while longer, but now that I'm just lying here still and slightly sweaty, I'm getting chilled quickly.
“Hm, maybe,” he says, and begins fumbling behind him for the backpack. Luckily we have another blanket with us, and he drapes it around both of us.
“This way we're at least somewhat decent if someone stumbles over us,” I smirk and kiss the tip of his nose.
“Yeah, but our clothes are scattered everywhere around us in a 4-foot radius, so it doesn't take a genius to suss out we're naked under here,” he chuckles. I sigh happily and squeeze Richard tight, and in that instance absolutely everything in my life is perfect. Despite lying on the ground with just a blanket for a mattress. For a while we're silent, just slowly caressing each other, savoring the moment.
“So, have you been horribly worried about me when we were driving? Are you dreading the drive home?” I ask, looking up at him. He runs a hand down my back and sighs.
“Mno, not as bad as I thought. I mean, I'm worried, but... it's like you said, we can't just hide away in that house for the rest of our lives. And I have to trust you and your driving. And you're a good driver. But I'll be happier when you actually have your license,” he adds, pinching the skin at my side a few times, knowing this tickles. I squeak and tense up, preparing for more pinches.
“Richard, quit that right now, I have my leg in between yours, I could knee you in the plums through no fault of my own!” I warn. This makes him stop instantly. Instead, he resumes caressing my back slowly.
“But please, Ronja, can you think up some adventures that are a bit less dangerous next time? I don't mean to lock you up, but I can't deal with this kind of worry every day of the week,” he pleads.
“All right, baby, I will,” I promise, cupping his face in my hand and giving him a long, loving kiss, my thumb brushing over his cheek. Resting back down on his shoulder, I nuzzle his neck and give a happy sigh. Silence falls again for a while.
“What are you thinking about?” Richard asks quietly after a while, kissing my forehead tenderly.
“Well, I'm doing what you asked, I'm trying to think of “safer” adventures we can do,” I explain, raising one hand to make a lonely quotation mark in the air.
“And?” He prompts. “Is it something sexy?” Richard's eyebrow shoots up and he looks at me in a suggestive manner.
“Mno... Well, depends on what floats your boat I guess,” I smirk, pinching his nipple and he giggles a goofy laugh. “How about we.. build a car? Like a kit car or something? You and me? Just a simple thing.” At this, there is a stunned silence.
“What? Really?” he squeaks in disbelief.
“Yeah! I mean... I know some very basic things about cars. Like how it needs air together with fuel to work, a dynamo to keep the charge up on the battery, and a working radiator and radiator coolant to keep it cool, that you have to bleed the brake lines when you change brake fluid...”
“Ronja, stop, I'm getting a hard-on again,” Richard complains, but very half-heartedly.
“Anyway, I know bits and pieces, but I wish I knew more. About simple cars, just like a basic petrol one with a simple gearbox.”
“Are you serious or just yanking my chain?”
“No I'm not! It would be like building Lego, only... massive!”
“You build Legos?” Hammond asks, sounding even more confused.
“Not lately, but yeah, I used to, quite a lot. When I was studying, if I was stressing out about it, especially exams, and needed a break I bought a massive Lego kit. Like the Millennium Falcon or a NASA space rocket...”
“I love you for that, because I know what to give you for Christmas now, but... How did you get this idea?”
“Remember those shows with Mark Evans on telly? The veterinarian? He built a car, and a bike, and a plane? I watched that thinking I'd love to have a go at that, it looked like a lot of fun! And that E-type he rebuilt was sexy!” Having said this, I am met with another moment of silence. Eventually, Richard squeezes me closer to him, giving me a kiss on the forehead.
“Yeah I remember those shows. Mark is a good guy. All right, the first thing I'm doing when we get back home is getting a kit car. And you and I are going to build it in our shed and I'm going to have the time of my life.” Home. Our shed? These words leap out at me, and I wonder if it was a slip of the tongue. Richard distracts me from these thoughts by squeezing me against him.
“Wow, I really hit the jackpot with you, didn't I,” he sighs, kissing my temple.
“Really? You don't think I'm really weird or just a tomboy who's really just a very closeted lesbian?” I muse, and at this Richard laughs loudly.
“You're definitely not a closeted lesbian,” he snorts. “You are kind of a tomboy, but that's one of the many, many things I love about you.” For these words, I give Richard a grateful kiss.
“Hm, maybe James can help out with that kit car too, if he wants to,” I suggest after a while, knowing that this is exactly his sort of thing too. And that I would probably slow it down immensely by knowing diddly squat.
“Oh hell no. If you're going to be in the garage, covered in motor oil, handling spanners and socket wrenches... I'm not sharing that porn with James, I'm keeping that all to myself!” I chuckle and shake my head slightly at him, running my fingers through his hair.
“All right, fine,” I sigh and roll my eyes. A ping sounds from Richard's phone, and I suddenly remember the little photo session we had earlier. I raise myself up on my elbow and look down at Richard, his hair a mess, a content smile on his face. “By the way, did you get any good pictures earlier?” I raise an eyebrow at him, then look over at his phone lying beside him.
“Yeah, I did...” He answers, picking up his phone. “Wanna see?” He smirks like a naughty schoolboy.
“I'm not sure I want to,” I admit, biting my lower lip, feeling insecure. “I have never seen a naked picture of myself.”
“Hey,” he says sternly, poking me in the back with a hard finger. “I told you that you were the sexiest thing I'd ever seen, right? And I bloody meant it.”
“All right, let me have a look,” I sigh, feeling the blush creeping up my neck. Richard opens his photo folder, scrolls a little and hands it over to me. My face flushes hot when I see the first image, and I swallow hard. And to my own immense surprise I don't hate the way I look. Slowly I scroll through the images, and when I see the ones where I'm touching myself too, I actually think they look hot. I have that leather jacket on, but it's hanging open, my hair is cascading down over one shoulder and my eyes are closed with pleasure, my hand between my own legs. It's obvious I am completely oblivious to the world around me, I'm completely lost in me and Richard. The fact that you can see our bikes in the background doesn't hurt either. Without a word, I hand the phone back to Richard.
“See? Sexiest thing in the world,” Hammond persists.
“I don't hate them, actually,” I admit with a shy shrug. “But you better keep those pictures under lock and key, Hammond. If you accidentally airdrop one of those to James or something I am going to kill you.”
“Oh, don't worry, I'm definitely not sharing that porn with James either,” he smirks, pulling me in for a kiss.
“Also, do you know what else gave me the idea of building a kit car?” I mumble against his lips.
“Mm what?” He mumbles lazily.
“I remember that episode when you guys built that Caterham, racing the Stig driving a finished one from London.”
“Really, did you see that?” He asks, looking surprised. “That was aaages ago.”
“Yeah, I did! I've watched Top Gear quite a bit. Which is why I sometimes wonder how the hell I ended up in Top Gear land with you and everyone else.”
“That is really weird. You kinda knew me way before I knew you,” Richard muses, a slight frown on his face.
“Yeah, I know. Maybe that's why it was so easy for me to talk to you. I'm a nurse so I pretend to be sociable and extrovert, but I'm really not. But I kinda felt like I already knew you a bit, so it was so easy to talk to you. If I had never seen you before I probably would've been a lot shyer.”
“And do you know why I went over to talk to you in the first place? That first day we met properly?” Hammond asks.
“No? We've never talked about this, have we?” I say with an excited smile. “About when we first met and started talking. I seem to remember you came up to me wondering if I was hypnotized or high on drugs because I was staring at that DB9 for an ungodly amount of time?” I smirk.
“That was a stupid thing to say, I was trying to be funny... I came up to you because I had seen you around on set and I couldn't forget you. I thought that you were absolutely gorgeous, and if you were staring at that car because you loved it, I just had to get to know you.”
“Really, you'd noticed me before you talked to me that day?”
“Yes, of course! I remember seeing you on that first meeting we had on the set that season and... I wanted to talk to you ever since, I was forever trying to find the right time,” he smiles, blushing a little. At this I can't help but laugh, hiding my face in my hands as I remember the first day we met.
“Bloody hell, I felt so embarrassed that day you first talked to me, I wanted the ground to swallow me up,” I admit. “I ranted and babbled at you like an idiot, and I thought I better avoid you for the rest of my internship at Top Gear.”
“No, you didn't? You were just being honest, and really excited about a car, and I really liked that. And I wanted to just get to know you more above anything else. Which is why I had to take you out in that DB9. I just wanted to give you a good memory.”
“And you did... And to be honest... Spending that time with you in the car is an even better memory than actually being in that DB9. I was smitten with the car, but I got even more smitten with you,” I admit.
“Good. That was sort of the idea,” he says with a wide, proud grin.
“Well it worked!” I laugh.