Disclaimer: I don't own WR or anything to with it, I just like borrowing the characters!

A/N: I can't believe that I'm starting another fic already, although this is one only a oneshot. I think holidays are good for my muse – she always seems to go into overdrive whenever I'm away from home! Anyway, this oneshot is set anytime after Episode 14 and BEFORE Episode 20 – so in other words, we have an established Reddie relationship. That in itself is very unusual for me – I hardly ever write established relationship fics, unless they're family ones, with babies. Not the case here. I hope you like this little moment, I did wonder whether it was worth posting for ages, but decided what the hell, I didn't have much to loose so if you all hate it, I will delete it, ok?

Summary: A moment of honesty and openness in the Reddie relationship that bring them both just a little closer.

Memories

Eddie grinned as Rachel slipped out of his arms to head into her kitchen, a teasing smile on her lips as she left him in her living room to make coffee for them both. They'd just got back from the cinema, and Phil was upstairs "doing homework" or more likely playing on the new computer game Rachel had gotten him for his birthday. Eddie was contemplating following her, he loved catching her unawares and she would be intent on her task, but the photos on her shelves caught his eye and he reluctantly decided he would take a look at them instead.

He hadn't had a chance to look at them yet, even though he'd been spending quite a lot of time with Rachel over the last few weeks, because they usually went out so as not to make things awkward for Philip, and so they had a little bit of freedom. Because of this, Eddie now felt a certain measure of curiosity because much as he loved Rachel, he had to acknowledge he knew less about her than he would like. So, over to the photos he wandered and glanced over them.

Most were of her and Mel, and Philip occasionally, in various places and at different ages, although he noticed there were very few from her teenage years up until she looked as if she was just the right age for the time he knew she went into teaching. He guessed why, and decided not to question it, moving along the room, looking for other family members other than her sister and her nephew. He was curious what kind of upbringing, what parents, the woman he loved had had to make her into what she was. Yet… There were none. Friends, what looked like colleagues from other schools, but no family.

Just as he was about to give up, he espied an old, faded looking photograph tucked away in the corner of the room and moved towards it, picking it up from it's partially hidden place behind another, larger photo of Mel and Phil with Rachel at some house somewhere. The ink in this photo was somewhat bland, showing it's age, and for a moment, Eddie didn't know who he was looking at. Then he recognised a couple of familiar features in the child's face before him and his eyes widened.

The picture depicted a fairly rounded man of probably about sixty, asleep in a blue armchair. His hair was white, what Eddie could see of it anyway, as the man was bald on the top of his head, and the beige colours of the man's clothes spoke of him working in an office. Studying this man, Eddie decided he had a kindly face, one that would more easily smile than frown, and by the way he was holding the other person in the photo, Eddie knew he had a good heart.

Cuddled up against this man was what Eddie would guess to be a five or six year old Rachel, completely asleep as well and laid back on the man's chest, while his arm was circling her tiny body and holding her against him securely. The little girl looked peaceful, happy, and so did the man, both of them completely content in each other's space and from the looks of it, this man loved Rachel very much, as a father or perhaps a grandfather. Eddie was glad the woman he now cared for had known that sort of love as a child.

There was a window in the left side of the photo which shed a grey light over the two sleeping individuals, although it did manage to light up the amber and caramel highlights in Rachel's hair, and he thought with an affectionate smile that she had been a sweet child, one that should definitely have been adored. He hoped he was right. Even now, at this young age, he could see elements of the woman he knew; the shape of her nose, the line of her mouth, little details that revealed who she was, and who she would become.

"Eddie?"

A light voice broke in on his thoughts and he turned, trying not to look too guilty as he faced Rachel. She was holding two coffee mugs, which were steaming slightly, and there had been a smile on her lips that dropped away the minute she saw what he was holding.

"Sorry, I was being nosy." Eddie apologised, coming forward and taking one of the mugs from her, still with the photo in his hand. Her eyes were on the picture, and he knew there had to be memories spinning behind her eyes, her distraction said as much. With some obvious effort on her part, she tore her eyes away and looked up at him, trying to pull on a smile despite a grief in her caramel orbs. He knew he had to ask. "Father?" He offered, before taking a sip of his coffee.

"No." Something in her voice, even in that tiny word, was enough to tell him there were unnamed emotions at play in her answer, untold stories he would have to ask about one day, but for now he just wanted to know about this picture. He nodded, and she smiled in return, hopefully at his determination to have just one of her memories shared between them. He thought they needed that, maybe. She sighed, and led them both over to the sofa, setting her coffee down on the table and holding out her hand for the photograph, a soft smile lifting her features. He let her delay, knowing she would tell him, eventually.

"That is my grandfather. Pa, I used to call him. He was my mother's father, and-" her voice, which had been held sternly steady, now wavered and he reached over to put a supporting hand on her arm. "He is one of the few people in my family whom I remember with any fondness. He died when I was eight. Broke my mother's heart, she'd always been very close to her parents. And she couldn't ever look at me in the same way again because…" Again, her voice trailed off and Eddie slipped his hand down her arm to take her hand, the one not holding the photograph.

"It's ok, Rach." He whispered, reminding her they were here, in this time, and she was with someone who loved her. She nodded, swallowing.

"It was peaceful, he just went to sleep and never woke up, but when she told me, I – I didn't know what to do. I was so young, I didn't know how to process what had happened. I knew in my mind that he was gone, but it didn't connect completely with me, I don't think. I couldn't cry, not when she told me, not after, not even at the funeral. I didn't understand, not really. I think there was always a part of my mother that hated me after that." Eddie frowned and leant a little closer, trying to read Rachel's expression, though her face was still lowered, to look at the photo.

"You see, I - I loved my grandfather more than I loved anything, he was my guardian angel, he looked after me, always, from the minute I was born almost. Mum was ill a lot while I was younger, especially when she was having Mel, and him and my grandmother used to take me out places, everywhere and anywhere. He was wonderful with me, the one person I always knew would love me unconditionally. And while I didn't understand that I'd never see him again, my mother thought I didn't care.

He was a wonderful person, my Pa. When we went on holiday, we used to go to the Isle of Wight, you know, near Portsmouth? He'd take me out early in the morning, to give my parents some peace, and he'd take me for walks along the edge of the sea and when I got old enough to eat them, he always bought me a Tangle Twister at the end of them." She evidently caught Eddie's look of confusion, and a slight smile gripped her. "It's an ice lolly. It was our thing; we always used to get two and eat them sitting on the wall by the sea. Whenever we were together, I was his entire world. I was his first grandchild and it's wrong but I was always special to him."

"That's not wrong, Rachel. That a good thing, a great thing." Eddie told her firmly, drawing her eyes up to his and smiling reassuringly. She barely managed to return the gesture, and Eddie was surprised to find tears gathering in Rachel's eyes as she looked back down at the photograph.

"You're probably wondering why, if I loved him so much, is there only one picture of him out and why it's hidden in the corner." Eddie nodded, almost smiling as the incredible woman before him read his mind. "I have loads of pictures of him and me, they're all in an album, which a lot of the time, I can hardly bare to look at. I still miss him, more than I can even try and say. So much it hurts, sometimes, to look back and remember. I still have that armchair we're in, it's in storage from my parent's house, I put almost everything in there after they died, and when I look," her breath caught in her throat and Eddie coaxed her gently towards him, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

"When I look at this photo, I can see that chair in front of my eyes, in my parent's house, and I think how can something be so close, yet so far away? Why couldn't he have lived? I had no one, Eddie, no one after he was gone." Gathering her up into his arms, Eddie tucked Rachel's head under his chin, holding her close to him and trying to give a little comfort. Part of him wished he hadn't asked, that he hadn't put her through this, but part of him was glad, that he now understood a little bit more of her, and that she was comfortable enough to share it with him.

"I'm sorry Rachel." He breathed, rubbing a hand up and down her back, and for a minute, she let him comfort her, burying her head in his neck and their breathing almost becoming synchronised before she drew away, angrily dashing at the tears rolling down her cheeks.

"No, I'm sorry, it's silly to get worked up about this still." She reproved herself, shaking her head and setting the photo down on the table by their cooling drinks.

"It's not silly." He told her warmly, and she looked around, her eyes snagging in his. "It's natural. You're allowed. And anyway, if you can't cry with me, who can you cry with?" Eddie joked, stealing her hands again and stroking a soft thumb over the backs of her hands. She actually managed a proper smile at that, and squeezed his hands in thanks.

"Well, I don't, usually." She confessed, finding herself able to be painfully honest with him. "Perhaps you're a bad influence, Mr Lawson." She teased back, her smile growing, and he couldn't help himself in that moment. He leant forward and brushed a light kiss over her lips.

"Well, get used to it, Miss Mason, because I'm going to be around, influencing you, for a long time." He meant it as a half-joke, though the words were full of truth, and she smiled again before gliding a hand up to curl in his shirt collar, guiding him back towards her waiting lips and whispered just before they shared another kiss,

"I think I can live with that."