Come Home To Me

She took the offer gratefully, managing a small smile, just for him. It seemed even nature wouldn't let them get away without an insult. She didn't want to admit it, but he was right about that last. They wouldn't stop. Not like that.

Rivulets trickled down her scalp and neck, her hair plastering down. Her makeup was probably running, but it didn't matter. He hesitantly returned her smile, looking a bit uncertain as she gave his hand a squeeze.

"Thank you, Hector."

He arched a brow, confusion evident in his eyes. "For what? I should be thanking you, for stopping them from busting me up even more."

"For being you. For not being like them."

He stared back at her, not letting go of her hand either. "I... just..."

She shook her head, not wanting him to try and explain away his own kindness. "Come on, we should get inside before we turn into walking mer-people."

He grinned at that. "I think it's already too late. I feel like I'm growing fins already."

She giggled, freeing her hand to give him a good natured shove. "Silly! Let's go then."

She took a hobbling step, the grass squishing under her foot, her clothes now thoroughly soaked through. Pain lanced up, but she did her best to hide the wince.

She didn't do a good enough job. "Rachel! What happened? Are you alright?"

She waved away his concern, taking another limping step. "Nothing, it's fine. It was just me being foolish. And clumsy."

The feel of his firm grip on her shoulder made her feel small. He was only a year older, and still his hands could wrap almost right around her arm.

"Let's take you to the nurse's office." His hands were so warm.

"Are you going too?" She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, leading him on and letting him help her.

"Uhh, not for me, I'm fine."

She shook her head vigorously. "Then no. You can walk me home as repayment for rescuing you."

"But-"

"No buts!"

He subsided, and she hid a small smile. That would teach him. She wasn't completely devoid of pride, and acknowledging the injury like that to anyone but him would be akin to defeat.

Together, the drenched pair supported each other into shelter, leaving the wrath of the storm behind.

____

That sound... was it really...? Her ears strained to hear over the final waltzing chords, the crippling of her sight seeming to make this sense more acute. Yes... A tremolo shriek, ululating its call of distress somewhere off in the night.

"Fire, fire. Flee, flee,"it seemed to say, as it screamed past, growing fainter. Close. Not close enough to bespeak of imminent danger, but close enough to be heard over the other, ever-present wail, and the radio that was her only friend in the dark.

Maybe he was with them? Rushing towards the danger, leaping into the cavorting flames, beating them back one by one...

'Dearest Hector... Where are you? Come home to me, my love!'

She could almost see it, feel it, hear it. The flickering, dancing flames of hell, appearing as twisting demons with charring touch. Waves of heat, parching clothing, blistering bare skin and frying hair, whisking the moisture from her mouth like arid soil absorbed the rain. Thick, acrid smoke, replacing the life giving air and scorching the walls of her throat and lungs. Crackles and pops, the sizzle of burning wood, the crash of falling beams, the shrieks of the sirens and the dying...

All the while, Spitfires and Hurricanes chattered with Stukas and Messerschmitts in the inky theatre above, flitting about each other in a deadly dance to determine the fate of those below. Graceful, she supposed, in the way that a lion pounced upon its prey, as one metal bird ripped another apart, sending the victim screaming down to meet its demise on the streets below.

Her feet itched with the desire to leap from her chair, the spear of fire from the splinter dulling into unimportance. She wanted to go to him, pull him back to her. Lose herself in his powerful arms. Bury herself against his wide chest, listening to the reassuring sound of his heartbeat while his comforting voice murmured in her ear, telling her that all was well.

She trembled. 'Please, darling...' He was so close!

He might as well be across the ocean.

She hugged her knees, resting her forehead on them, the pulse of pain from the injury beating down to a dull ache. She breathed deeply, controlling her heartbeat with steadying inhalations. Musty scents assaulted her, the chill air bearing them up from the corners like an ensnaring net. They should just pack and go, flee to the countryside. Then they would be together.

He would never do it, and she would stand on the ashes of their home before leaving without him.

Bing Crosby crooned from the radio, filling the blackness with warbling tales of love and devotion. The words stirred her thoughts. Only forever indeed, if he would just come back to her...

She wrapped her armour of cloth tighter around herself, clinging to its soothing warmth as it gallantly fought back the icy darkness. The feel of the thick fabric between her fingers brought a smile to her face, recalling the first time she had seen this particular blanket. He'd planned everything so perfectly...

____

She gave a practice twirl, watching in the mirror as the hem of her skirt spun with her, before settling into flawless layers once again. Perfect. She'd managed it without a single stitch out of place.

Hopefully he would like it. She had saved for a month to buy this dress!

She smoothed the soft fabric once again, breaking into a grin at its lovely sheen and silken texture. Yes, he would like it. He always seemed to notice things, whether it was something different she had done with her hair, or one of the bracelets she had convinced mother to lend, or sometimes he would just PRETEND something was different or new. Just to take the chance to give her a compliment.

Well, bashful, almost embarrassed compliments at least. So honest and sweet though. It was adorable, watching him get all tongue tied about something.

She frowned, attempting to draw the last few strands of hair into place. Why was she cursed with locks that refused to cooperate? Such stringy, lifeless tresses. Certainly not Rapunzel's flaxen streams.

It was as good as it would ever get though, the ribbon braided into it holding the majority in some semblance of order. That colour went with the dress well enough, so-

"Rachel! There's someone at the door for you!"

She flew out of her room in answer to her mother's summons. He was here! Musn't keep him waiting! Now she'd find out what his "surprise" was, and-

Flying was a mistake. She very nearly turned it into crashing, one oversized shoe catching the other as she rushed down the stairs. She bit back a shriek, grabbing the railing to prevent the tumble, heart beating double time. Those shoes... ick.

Nothing to be done about it though, she just had to cope. In her size, options were limited. At least they were better than men's shoes. Oh god, the time she had been forced to wear THOSE... He was the only one who hadn't poked fun.

"Rachel? Are you alright dear?" Her mother's auburn-haired head poked around the corner, eyes filled with concern. She must have heard the thump. Why couldn't she have hair like mother's? It was the same colour certainly, but-

Hector.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine!" She used marginally more caution on the remainder of the steps, passing her startled parent like a fast moving breeze with places to go. "Bye mum, I'll be back before it gets dark!" That promise had been squeezed out of her, but she didn't care. Back before dark was far better than not being allowed to go... wherever they were going. It didn't matter. It was with him.

Her mother's reply barely registered. Some kind of generic parental admonishment. She slowed before crossing into the entrance hall. Musn't seem like she was in THAT much of a hurry to greet him.

The door still stood open, like some magical portal to untold possibilities. Had mother invited him in? Probably, but knowing him, he would mutter something about "not wanting to intrude".

He stood on the porch, hands in his pockets and gazing up at the sky, shifting as if a bit uncomfortable. Why was he wearing that jacket? Silly boy, he'd keel over from the heat in that! Itwasfetching though.

He turned at the sound of her footsteps, his large muzzle and curving tusks making the motion seem more ponderous than it was.

"Hello, Rachel, are yo-" He cut off, mouth half open comically, like a thief had just stolen all his powers of speech. His eyes widened slightly, flicking all the way down to her shoes and then back up again, settling on her face with a look of incredulity. "Um, wow!"

She giggled, grabbing a layer of skirt and giving it a flaring shake. "Like it? I hope it's alright for wherever we're going."

He seemed to latch onto the words, using them to boot himself out of self-imposed muteness. "Cripes, Rachel, y-you look terrific!" He snapped his jaw shut, his hazel eyes locked on her, lapsing once more into stupefication. She had to resist the urge to laugh aloud. That expression made it worth every shilling.

She opted for the small, secretive smile of approval instead. Let him wonder exactly what she might be thinking. "Thank you. You're looking rather handsome yourself!" She punctuated that with a coy, half examination. Had she sounded too interested? He already looked warm, a bead of sweat on his brow. She'd have to subtly convince him he was striking enough without it. Or maybe not so subtly. No sense in overheating!

Enough idle chit-chat. "So, are you going to just stand there? Or are you going to tell me what your "surprise" is, and where we're going?"

He jolted, once more finding his tongue. "Oh, right, umm... Well, I thought we might go for a little picnic outing."

She joined him on the porch, closing the door firmly behind her. "That sounds lovely! Where? Hyde park?" The park was close enough to walk, and they could buy something to eat along the way.

He shook his head, breaking into a grin, the expression turning his eyes to warm, dark pools. "Not exactly. I wanted something a bit more special than that. We're going out to the country!"

She blinked, now feeling like the tongue-tied one. "The country? Umm, Hector, a little far to walk, don't you think?"

He didn't reply with words, merely gesturing in a grand sweep towards the street. She followed with her eyes, settling upon... Did he really mean THAT?! How on EARTH had he managed to get that?

"You have a car?!" Incredulity stained her voice, making it rise to that shrill pitch she hated so much.

His smile nearly split his face it two, a hint of pride in his expression. "Yeah, I managed to convince dad to let me borrow the Morris for the day. He said he'd wring my neck if anything happened to it, and that I'd have to work off the petrol costs, but when he heard why, he said I could!"

She felt like her eyes were going to fall out of her head. They were actually going out to the country together? He'd done all of this, for her?

He looked uncertain, shifting from foot to foot and rubbing the back of his neck with a bashful look when she didn't speak right away. "That IS alright, isn't it? You want to go?"

She tripped again, this time over her words. "Yes, yes! Oh Hector, I'd love to!" She clamped her mouth shut before she said anything more, composing herself. So much for coy.

He didn't seem to mind, offering his arm with a smile. "Well then, your carriage awaits, my lady."

She giggled at the formality, taking his arm like the queen he was portraying her as. "We are most amused, good footman. Pray, lead me to my conveyance!" Inside, she was skipping in circles like a child with a new bag of sweets.

He chuckled, playing the role with a bow, before leading her down the steps. The sun danced playfully off the gleaming windows and cherry paint of the vehicle, even the whitewall tires seeming to have just rolled out of the showroom. Had he washed and polished it for her as well?

She surreptitiously gripped his arm a bit tighter than was necessary as they walked, corded muscle evident under the thick fabric. Arms that felt like they could snap her in two, yet treated her with the most delicate of sensibility. Was that cologne he was wearing? The spicy scent tickled her nose as he reached in front of her to open the car door. Barely a hint of it, yet just enough.

She smiled up at him as she slid into the passenger seat, sinking delightfully into the tan leather. "Good, you may now have the privilege of driving me. On with you, on with you!" She waved her hand in a shooing gesture, feeling a bit giddy. This was so unexpected, it almost felt magical. Like at any moment, she would wake up to find she had fallen asleep in class, and Danny was making rude noises behind her.

His baritone laugh shattered the illusion. No, she couldn't dream up a wonderful sound like that. "My lady's every wish is my command." He shut the door, his merriment drifting in through the open windows as he crossed to the driver's side.

She glanced into the back seat, taking note of a large hamper nestled comfortably on a blue, neatly folded blanket. He really had thought of everything.

Her new bra pinched irritatingly. But, at least it accented the little chest she had. It was worth it, for him.

The springs of the seat put up a protest as his muscular form tested them. He turned towards her, and she wasn't sure which was warmer; the sun beating down through the windshield, or that beautiful smile. It didn't matter what anyone else said. As far as she was concerned, when he smiled, the world could end and she wouldn't notice.

"Are you sure you have everything you'll need?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

'I have you,' she wanted to add.

She couldn't help another girlish giggle. "Although, I think you do not require your heavy livery, my noble footman. I can't have my driver fainting from the sun."

It took him a moment, perplexity flickering over his face in place of the smile, before the light bulb went on. He chuckled, looking a bit rueful, fiddling with the fancy brass buttons on the lapels of the jacket. "I suppose it is a little hot for this, isn't it?"

She put on her best thoughtful face. "Hmm. Not if our picnic is in Siberia."

His baritone merriment felt like an embrace. "I think dad really would strangle me if we went that far." He looked grateful to shed the garment, tossing it carelessly on the seat behind them.

"Right then. We're off!" He turned the key with a grand flourish, the car grumbling to life from its slumber, somehow seeming to yawn and stretch. To her, it was the grandest of limousines, perhaps the queen's even.

They didn't speak much as they drove. They didn't need to. The rumble of the engine told them stories of freedom. Their enchanted steed whickered and snorted, bearing them forth to adventure and wonder.

Everything that was drab and dull about the buildings they passed now seemed exciting and new. The people walking in the streets were more like old friends than complete strangers. Her world was a brighter place when he was in it. There was no place for sadness, for cruelty, for tears. Only joy and light, gentle touches and tender words.

The wind whipped freely through the open windows, as flats and schools, shops and offices gave way to trees and fields. A never ending stage of green, canopied by brilliant blue, the expanse above populated only by reclining forms clad in purest cotton. There was a sailor, and a motley collection of swans and geese. Was that a tiger, crouching to pounce on unsuspecting prey? Or was it a tumbling acrobat, stretching for the trapeze before a gasping audience?

Fresh, clean air chortled in her ears as it picked apart the careful arrangement of her locks, ruffling them into a surely wild mop. She didn't care. She realized she was humming something, rather tunelessly. She wasn't even sure what it was. Just an untainted outpouring of her mood. She silenced the sound. It was probably rather irritating.

He glanced over. "You don't have to stop. I like it."

"Really? It's not even a song, it's just..."

He shrugged. "So? It means you're happy. I like it."

It felt like her heart had been replaced with a miniature sun. From anyone else, the words might sound like soulless flattery. From him, it was gospel truth.

They glided over several more rolling hills, before he pulled off onto the wide shoulder, near a large copse of trees. "This looks like a good spot, we have some shade if it gets too warm."

"It's perfect." It could have been an empty lot, and it still would have been perfect. The peaceful locale just made itmoreperfect.

The engine clicked and popped as it settled with a groan, their loyal steed earning its rubdown and bucket of oats for the safe passage it had given them. Hector whisked the blanket and hamper from the backseat, shooing her out the door playfully as she attempted to help. "Come on, let's find a nice place to set this out!"

Birds and bees sang their summer song as she stepped from the car, the scents of wildflowers and rich soil tinging every deep inhalation. Waves of heat bathed her skin, the rays pouring across her brow making her wish she had worn a hat.

The longer grass crunched under her feet, each individual blade standing out with perfect clarity as they bowed down for her passage, Hector following behind her, lugging the hamper and blanket. The grass called to her. The moment her feet touched the shorter, more lush stalks, she kicked out of her shoes, delighting in the feel of the cool greenery caressing her bare skin.

She left the hideous footwear where it lay, dancing across the meadow like a curious butterfly, wishing she too could step delicately across the petals of the flowers. She couldn't contain the laugh that bubbled up. She didn't try. She felt ten years old again, losing herself in the glory of this unspoiled moment.

If his smile had ever left, it was back in full effect. "Good idea then?"

She skipped back to him, boldly linking his free arm with hers. His shirtsleeve crinkled with starch, the lingering scent of his cologne teasing her nose briefly. "Mmhmm, you can ask me out like this anytime."

"Promise?" He sounded hopeful. Did he really enjoy her company that much?

"Promise. I might even say yes."

He rolled his eyes. "I would sure hope so. I'd hate to have to drag you kicking and screaming."

"Is that any way to treat a lady?"

He chuckled. "Of course not, that's why I'd hate to do it."

She joined in, socking him in the arm for his efforts. "Good thing you're ever the gentleman then."

"I do my best. How about here?"

She helped him spread the blanket out, half under the shade of the ashes, yews and poplars, half basking in the sun. The best of both worlds.

Perfect.

She settled down, hugging her knees and humming quietly as he began relieving the hamper of its contents. Sandwiches, a wrapped container of potato salad, a small canteen with a pair of cups, and two small plates completed the spread.

"Cordial?"

"Yes, please."

He poured her a cupful, handing it to her with a smile. Sparks seemed to dance between their fingertips as they brushed.

Perfect.

The sweetness of the cherry flavoured drink tantalized her tongue, the liquid pleasantly cool on her throat. He rummaged around in the hamper, looking a little perplexed, finally turning it upside-down and shaking it.

"What's wrong?"

He looked crestfallen. "Bollocks! I forgot to pack forks!" He prodded the container of salad. "Now this is going to go to waste. I'm sorry Rachel, I wanted everything to be just right, then I go and do a stupid thing like that."