progression of a slow dance
Disclaimer: still not mine. Although I have the series one DVDs, so at least that part of it is mine.
Summary: In the meantime, she just enjoys his company and pretends to herself that this is enough. Wemma.
Notes: My second glee fic. Only recently discovered Glee as a way to brighten my day after too many hours spent at work, and consequently I'm even newer to Glee fic (although admittedly not fic in general...). Therefore hope a: the characterisation/situation isn't too far off and b: this isn't too similar to all/any fics out there. Possibly it is. But if so, hope you enjoy anyway!
XxX
Will returns to Lima after Nationals and she's not quite sure what to make of that. She's happy about it on a selfish level, admittedly, but then she'd prepared herself for never seeing him again; or at least, not for some time – with exception of plans to see his opening night (and a number of subsequent nights) in his Broadway debut. He deserved this chance. He needed this chance.
She'd reconciled herself to this future of no-Will, not that this was by any means a happy thought, and yet, there he is. She makes a banner to herald their 12th place victory (because, really, 12 out of 50 still isn't bad) and tries to figure out what this means for the future.
In her more fanciful moments, there's a fantasy of marriage and children and growing old together and an acceptance that he's happy with this future despite the fact that he could have had more than Lima. On the reverse, there's a future where he resents having settled and the regret that he never actually lived the life that was so very nearly within his grasp and there's no him and her.
She knows that he's not made this decision to return for her; she'd find it terrifying if he had because, really, she doesn't want to be the person stopping from being who he always dreamt of being. But, in the selfish moments, she hopes that she was at least a factor.
Not that it makes a difference; their relationship is still somehow off kilter and she doesn't know how to fix that.
XxX
She makes the decision to invite him round for dinner one evening after work. In a moment of genius, she even manages to think of a work-related excuse. Because if he says no (and in her many rehearsals of asking him, she's still not sure how the conversation is going to go) then it's nothing personal.
And yet, when she finally gets up the nerve to ask, despite running through the lines in her head countless times before, she forgets to add in that work-related justification.
It doesn't matter. He agrees anyhow.
She makes pasta with tomato sauce, because it's nothing fancy, even if she does deliberate over what to make for more time than can be considered reasonable.
She finds it awkward at first, having him in her condo, trying to make conversation. But as little as one glass of wine later, she relaxes and even enjoys herself.
As he leaves, he thanks her for a lovely evening. "I'm glad you invited me," he says. And then he hesitates at her door and she wonders for a brief, ludicrous moment if he's contemplating if he should kiss her. And then he does; a friendly gesture on her cheek.
After the evening is finally over, she smiles in the realisation that this marks their return to their once-close friendship.
She neglects to realise that they were never really just friends.
XxX
After the initial hesitation, exclusive invites are no longer a problem. They hang out and watch films, she helps him unpack at his new apartment, they share meals and lunch, and it's even better than what they had before.
Once or twice they invite Shannon, and go for dinner with her, or to a bar, because this isn't a relationship even though Shannon reluctantly later admits that she feels a bit like a third wheel. It doesn't stop her accepting the next invite, and after that first time it's no longer quite so awkward.
Later Emma thinks about how they're all just lonely, and how good it is that they all have each other. She no longer feels quite so lonely for the first time in a long time. And she's happy about that.
XxX
One time, Will stays over at hers. It's an accidental event; he's had a long week and falls asleep on her couch watching The Sound of Music.
He looks so peaceful and content that she can't bring herself to wake him. Instead, she drapes a blanket over him and watches him briefly before she manages to pull her attention away and prepares for bed.
He's apologetic in the morning, and she smiles at his contrition. "If I really wanted you out of my apartment, Will, I would have just woken you up," she tells him logically.
She won't let him make breakfast to make up for it (she eats cereal with soy milk anyway, and she's more than capable of making that) so he offers to buy dinner. "Because I let you sleep at my apartment?" she asks, confusedly.
"Among other things," he replies somewhat enigmatically.
It's at this moment – no, the moment where he smiles – where she starts to realise that she wants more from this. That she wants the dinner to be a date and to lead to other things that she's not thought about seriously in a while. But she doesn't know what he wants, and she's not the person to initiate things and discussions and she's not willing to sacrifice their friendship. Not yet.
"So?" he asks after her long silence.
"Dinner would be lovely," she replies and somehow she manages to force a smile.
"Great. I'll pick you up at seven thirty?" he says as he exits the door. And she starts to protest that she'll meet him there, because that's the friendly thing to do, but he's already gone.
XxX
Her relationships with Ken and Carl were easy, she tells her therapist. She was a passive party, agreeing to moving forwards without any real level of involvement or intention. With Carl, she was excited about where his ideas led them and this new version of herself and the fact that she, Emma Pillsbury, could go to a dingy theatre or mix different coloured grapes. Or get married on a whim.
"And did you want those things as well?" her therapist asks.
"I thought I did. But now I think maybe I was more excited about the idea of some of those things than the reality," she replies. She's been thinking about this a lot; they've discussed the topic before.
"So what is it that you really want?"
She doesn't reply immediately. She contemplates the right answer or maybe the truth and comes up with neither.
"I don't know," she says eventually.
She does. But she's not ready to talk about that yet.
XxX
She starts to subconsciously analyse his behaviour for signs that he might want more than just friendship. But he's still Will, and he's nice to everyone (even Sue on occasion), and those looks she sometimes catches aren't about her, and surely those gentle touches are more friendly than anything more, and she's not always the best judge of these subtle signs when it comes to herself. It's one of myriad reasons for her sparse relationship history.
In the meantime, she just enjoys his company and pretends to herself that this is enough.
XxX
One time, he nearly kisses her.
They go to the cinema to watch the latest and final Harry Potter movie (it's safe because it's not a date-movie) and afterwards he drops her off at her apartment. They sit in his car and talk for a bit about the movie before she tells him it's late and she really should get started with her bedtime routine.
He tells her he'll see her tomorrow, and she smiles and thanks him for a lovely evening and then he's looking at her with this look in his eyes that she's seen before, and he starts to lean forwards, and she's pretty much sure that this is the moment where the friendship boundary will be irrefutably crossed. And then something stops him. He looks away, and leans further, but to her left, and unlocks the car door for her.
Somehow afterwards she's so distracted thinking about it that she misses out half her routine and it doesn't even bother her.
XxX
She's making progress, she tells her therapist. She lists all the ways that she's improving and her therapist notes with a wry smile that it sounds like Will is being very supportive.
Later, her therapist asks if she's given any further thought to the question of what she wants.
She hesitantly nods to the affirmative. There's only silence in response as her therapist waits for her to elucidate. "I want... I want marriage and children and love but with someone that I love. "
"With Will?"
She looks away, mildly embarrassed that she's so obvious. "But to get those things, I need to know that I'm ready to have an, uh, entire adult relationship. I think I'm ready. But what if I'm not? What if I can't ever go through with it?"
"Only you can answer that question, Emma. I can only ever help you work through your problems; I can't solve them for you. But did you realise, this is the first time you've talked about the sexual aspect of relationships in terms of being afraid of not being able to go through with it, rather than a fear of the actual act itself."
"So that's progress, right?" she asks cautiously.
Her therapist smiles. "That's progress."
XxX
She gets the idea on a Wednesday and quickly dismisses it.
Three weeks later, the idea is still there at the back of her mind. It's raised to the forefront every time she sees him or hangs out with him and somehow she's beginning to finally see that maybe he wants something more too.
It takes a further three weeks before she can bring herself to do something about it. She's not good at being the one to initiate these things, but he's too cautious and he won't broach the matter, so she has to. She sees it as progress, and she's happy about that.
XxX
She wouldn't have done anything if he wasn't so distractingly Will. If he hadn't given her that look that required all her willpower not to hug him, or kiss him, or, well, honestly? Do dirty things to him. It's that which compels her.
That and two and a half glasses of wine, Mamma Mia, and Will's warm body leant against her own on the couch.
She doesn't intend to kiss him, not at first. But it's just something she finds herself doing. And he's kissing her back, and neither of them seems to mind in the least. It is her who initiates it. It is also her who initiates deepening the kiss, widening her mouth and coaxing his lips to part, tongues duelling.
It is her who initiates the removal of clothes. And she'd not intended to do this, either, but her hands find themselves pulling up Will's sweater vest and undoing the buttons on his shirt and then lower, on his jeans. And suddenly she finds that he's nearly naked with exception for his underwear and she's, well, not, and rather than be squeamish about this, she realises that she wants this. Really wants this. To the extent that the messiness and the awkwardness and the nervousness and any feelings of inadequacy are not even remotely strong enough to stop her.
It's fortunate that Will feels this way, too. But he's hesitant, not wanting to push her even as she moves events forwards, pushes her panties down her legs under her skirt and removes them with a wavering smile.
"Is this... is this okay?" she asks nervously. "I mean, am I doing things right?"
Will looks at her, a look of adoration and something more on his features, his eyes dark pools of need. "You're doing things more than right," he says before he kisses her deeply. "I've not wanted anyone so much in a long time. If ever," he whispers against her skin.
She smiles. And then undoes her shirt. She forgets her initial worry about whether she can go through this with him, or even with anyone. She forgets her original thought that this is it; all or nothing.
She forgets about everything but him and her and sharing this experience.
Afterwards, she lies in his arms, happier than she's been, well, ever.
"I think we need to try that again," she says. "Just to check I've got it right." She's smiling all over.
He laughs exhaustedly against her hair. "God Emma, you'll be the death of me."
And it starts like this. She sees their future as something more than a distant fantasy, and she's increasingly certain that now it can become a reality. Later they'll date properly and she'll tell him that the reality is that they've been dating for the past few months and he'll joke that she could have at least told him so he might have gotten at least some of the perks of kissing her. They'll discuss the future and she'll know that he understands exactly what her giving him this moment means.
But for now she's content to just lie in his embrace, happy as they drift off to sleep.
XxX