Chapter 1

The Return

Quick author's note before I begin. Two days ago, I finished up playing Eliza Doolittle in this amazing show. I am in love with this character, and this is just my imagining of what might have happened after the curtain falls on the play. I have no ownership to this story whatsoever.

The beginning of this chapter is based more off of the way my Higgins and I decided to end the show as opposed to the movie. If you have any questions, feel free to ask.

And without further or do, enjoy! - E. B.

"Eliza, where the devil are my slippers?"

Eliza felt tears well up in her eyes as she realized he had been crying. A tear trailed down his flustered cheek as he took a step towards her. She ran to him and threw her arms around his neck, and much to her surprise, she felt him cling violently to her waist as they both buried their faces in each other's shoulders. His embrace was so tight that she was certain that he was leaving bruises behind, but she didn't care. She was just happy that he finally held her in his arms. It seemed so surreal after all they had been through – the arguments that lasted until three in the morning, the ring he chucked across the room (that she was more than grateful to have returned to her finger when she picked it up), and the time they held hands just a little bit longer than they should have after they danced around in their own little world.

She let out a sigh as he held her even tighter against him if that was at all possible. His tears soaked through her crisp white shirt as her hand involuntarily wandered to his golden hair. He sighed shakily, and they suddenly heard the front door click open. Eliza waited for him to move, but he didn't. For once, she had no problem with doing the same.

She saw Colonel Pickering out of the corner of her teary eye. She spotted a blithe but sad smile come across his countenance. He tipped his hat and quietly ventured up the stairs. Moments later, she saw him and Mrs. Pearce spying on them from the landing.

Eliza didn't know how long they stayed that way, but when they finally parted, she noticed the room had gotten considerably darker, indicating that the sun was getting lower in the sky. Mrs. Pearce and the Colonel had retreated to the small tea room.

Eliza dried her tears with the handkerchief he had given her. Higgins leaned over his desk to collect himself. They didn't say a word. They didn't have to. Eliza supposed life would go on as if she had never left from now on, and that was alright with her, so long as he never gave reason for her to leave ever again.

It was even more silent at tea as Eliza, Pickering, and the professor sat around the table. Eliza mostly kept her eyes on her cup while Higgins' eyes seemed to dart up every so often just to make sure she wasn't going anywhere.

"We're very glad that you came back to us, Miss Doolittle," Colonel Pickering said in a polite way as to make conversation.

"Thank you, Colonel Pickering," she replied softly.

"What do you plan to do now that the experiment is over?"

Eliza's eyes met with the professor's for a brief moment as she placed her cup back on the saucer. "I am not sure," she admitted shakily as Mrs. Pearce brought out another tray of cakes, "but I can assure you that I will pay you back for the expenses of these clothes. I feel terrible to have worn them at your expense."

"No need, my dear," he said reaching over to pat her hand. "I must admit that it was rather a lot of fun buying such pretty clothes for such a pretty young lady. It makes me wish I had a daughter. She would have been spoiled silly. Yes, it was quite enjoyable for two lonely old bachelors. Don't you think, Higgins?"

"It was a lot of tom-foolery if you ask me," he scoffed, "but the clothes do look nice on you, Eliza."

She felt the color rise to her cheeks as she took another sip of tea.

"If you wish to still work in a flower shop, I've been talking to a lady who owns one not far from here. She's a very kind, jolly young thing. Of course, she might be old to you, Eliza. Why, she's nearly the same age as Higgins!" He went on prattling as Higgins choked on his tea only to eventually be interrupted by Mrs. Pearce.

"Forgive my interruption, Colonel, but I think Eliza would make a fine secretary for someone," she said with emphasis on the last word.

"Oh, yes… fine idea… Mrs. Pearce," Higgins said as he continued to gag a bit on his drink. "Perhaps Pickering's chap at the home office knows of an opening somewhere."

Mrs. Pearce heaved a great sigh and rolled her eyes before "accidentally" hitting Mr. Higgins in the head with the tray she was about to set down. He grinded his teeth and rubbed the spot as she spoke. "But Eliza has no experience in that sort of field. She would do very well to work some place more intimate, perhaps in the home of a wealthy gentleman who cannot keep up with his own agenda."

"Do you mean like my friend Charles, Mrs. Pearce? Oh, he's a fine fellow, or perhaps you could work for my –"

"Or perhaps she could work for you, Mr. Higgins," she finally said.

"Or perhaps she could work for me!" he said instinctively before really thinking about what he was saying. He sighed shakily as he saw her shocked face. "You could if you wanted to," he added softly before clearing his throat.

She couldn't help but smile. "You want me to work for you? You weren't lying were you, Henry Higgins? You want me back to pick up your slippers and keep up with your schedules, do you?" He gulped as he stared at her. "Well," she finally continued, "I guess if I'm going to be a secretary, that wouldn't be too bad of a job."

Higgins grinned and jumped out of his seat. "That's simply fantastic! You can start tomorrow. Since you're inexperienced, I imaging thirty pounds a reasonable salary, providing of course that you remain to reside here?" She nodded thoughtfully. "Fantastic! Eliza, I will see you bright and early tomorrow morning! Now, if you will excuse me, I am going to bed!"

"Mr. Higgins, it's only four o'clock in the afternoon!" Mrs. Pearce cried towards the staircase.

"What better time to rest than four o'clock in the afternoon?" Then he was gone.

Eliza tried her best to suppress a giggle as he marched out.

"Poor Eliza, I hope you do like getting up early. He'll be wide awake by three in the morning!" Mrs. Pearce exclaimed.

"I don't mind, Mrs. Pearce,"" she replied with a chuckle. "I don't imagine I should have too difficult of a time staying up until then."

A warm feeling filled her as a tinge of pain rippled across her torso from the bruises he had left behind when he held on to her so tightly. A small part of her knew that he would probably never hold her like that again, but a very large part secretly hoped that he would. She closed her eyes in order to relish in the memory of her being in his embrace. She supposed that she must have fallen asleep at some point because when she woke up, the professor was sitting at the table with a cup of coffee.

"Did you fall asleep in your chair, Eliza? That was very irresponsible of you."

"I'm sorry, Professor," she said as she sat up and rubbed her eyes. "What time is it?"

"Why, it is two-thirty in the morning! It's practically time for –" he looked at the clock on the wall and then got up to peer through the curtains. He sighed, and for the first time, Eliza saw sympathy come across the professor's face. "I suppose it's time for you to go upstairs and get some rest. I'll go fetch Mrs. Pearce and have her help you undress."

"No, please," she said before yawning and getting out of the chair. "If you are ready to start the day, then so am I!"

He opened his mouth to tell her what he wanted her to do, but he quickly shut it because deep down in the back of his mind, he knew she needed to go upstairs and rest.

To tell the complete truth, he wanted her to rest because when she was tired, she became irritable, and when she became irritable, they would fight because he could not handle her emotions. No, he had learned his lesson. It was best he looked out for her well-being.

"No, Eliza, I am not ready to start the day. I simply could not sleep. I'll go get Mrs. Pearce, and you go up to bed."

"No," she quickly interjected, "there's no need to wake her. I can dress myself."

"Oh, well, alright then. Goodnight."

"Wait. Would you mind accompanying me up the stairs though? It's terribly dark, and I don't see so well," she asked shyly.

"Oh, tosh, Eliza, that's so silly. I'm sure you could make it just fine. You have before. Really, Eliza, must you insist on being so delicate?" She looked hurt as she slowly turned around, so he instinctively stopped her. "Wait, Eliza, I wouldn't want you to fall. I would never forgive myself if you did. I'll go with you."

She nodded and allowed him to walk beside her. He held a small gas lamp in his hand as he carefully walked her up the stairs, his hand brushing lightly against the center of her back. They both stopped in front of her door. She smiled at him and turned the knob, but before she entered, he snatched her arm.

"Eliza," he said softly, "I am very glad you came back."

She smiled. She didn't really know what to say, but she grabbed his hand and gave it a small squeeze before entering her room and lightly shutting the door behind her.