So. I'm happily working away on the next chapter of A Helping Hand, also trying to write a little side bar on a phone conversation between Assumpta and Peter when this horrid little plot bunny starts gnawing at me!
A little something between Someone to Watch Over Me and Only Skin Deep.
Peter stood, watching Brian walk away from him. Trying desperately to comprehend what had just happened.
Barred. From Fitzgeralds? How?
He turned and stared at the door which had slammed so unceremoniously behind him. He fought down the urge to walk away and let Assumpta calm down. Whatever had just happened needed to be dealt with. With more trepidation that the moment truly deserved he knock on the solid blue paint and hoped that she'd answer.
She did.
Assumpta's eyes flamed as she saw him still stood in the doorway.
"I told you you're not welcome"
There was an edge to her voice that Peter had never heard before. Angry and defiant but with an undertone of sadness that threw him.
"And I have no idea what just happened Assumpta. But I intend to find out"
Peter stared her down, challenging her stare with his own, false, bravado.
Assumpta briefly held her ground, holding the door close to her body in an effort to refuse Peter entry. Peter placed his hand on the door, not forcing his way in, but pushing enough to let Assumpta to know that he wasn't just going to walk away without any answers.
Assumpta's stare darkened as she glared at him, then she sighed and stepped away from the door allowing him access. She walked across the room and made her way to the other side of the bar as Peter closed the door behind him and lent against it.
"Drink?"
Her question caught Peter off guard. To try and cover his confusion he glanced at his watch.
"Assumpta! It's barely Ten am!"
"And?"
Peter watched, a little horrified, as Assumpta poured more than a healthy measurement from one of the whiskey bottles at hand. He shook his head as she gestured it towards him. His eyes narrowed as she simply shrugged and took a sizeable swallow from the glass.
"Why do I get the feeling I've missed something here?"
Assumpta leaned against the bar, rolling the glass between her hands. She was silent, watching her hands, her usual air of rebelliousness deflating before him. Peter shifted his balance from one foot to the other as he noted her reluctance to look at him, battling the urge to walk over and hold her. An urge that had become more a part of him than he was really willing to admit, an urge that was becoming so strong it made his finger itch.
"Assumpta. Please. You're starting to scare me"
Assumpta looked up at him, her eyes wide and slightly damp in a way that made Peter's heart lurch and gave his feet a mind of their own as they propelled him towards the bar. Before his mind could catch up he had removed the whiskey from her hands and was holding her fingers between his own.
"Peter..."
It was a warning. Peter untangled his fingers from hers and placed himself on one of the bar stools, just far enough away so he couldn't reach her.
"So. Are you going to tell me what this is all about?"
Peter kept his tone soft, more than aware not to place her senses on alert. Whatever it was that he had done, she would tell him in her own time. Assumpta turned and fiddled with the coffee machine behind her, suddenly intent on polishing the already shiny milk frothing spout.
"I though we were friends"
She spoke quietly and Peter would have missed it if he weren't the only person in the room.
"What? We are. What on earth would make you think otherwise?"
"You left last night, just when I needed to talk"
"Assumpta, you said you were tired, it was late. We both had to be up early. It's not like we couldn't have carried on the conversation today"
Assumpta turned and faced him. A look of sadness passed over her face before she spoke.
"We could've. But it wouldn't be the same conversation really would it?"
Peter thought back to the previous evenings conversation. It was nothing, just usual banter between them. But there had been a subtext that, he at least, had been aware of. He nodded slowly, conceding that it wouldn't have been the same.
"Besides. I don't think you were being honest with me"
Peters head snapped up and he caught her eye immediately. Praying to his favourite deity that the flush he felt rushing over his face didn't show.
"What?! Of course I was. Why would you think..."
Assumpta cut him off and held his gaze with one that could have melted the poplar ice caps.
"Because you're a Priest Peter. And like I said before, you couldn't even look at me. If we were friends, I mean really friends we would have finished that conversation last night"
Peter recounted the discussion from the previous evening in his head.
Do you ever want what you can't have?
Yeah
Well what stopped you
Hmm?
What stopped you
Me
Why what are you afraid of?
Nothing
Peter realised she was right. He had spent most of that conversation engrossed in his wine glass avoiding her eyes for the fear of telling her just what he wanted.
"Assumpta, believe me we are friends. And as unlikely as it may seem pretty good ones as far as I'm concerned. But there are things that even the best of friends don't tell each other. Can't tell each other. Me being a Priest doesn't even come into it"
For a second Assumpta looked as though she might say something to counteract his argument. Instead she just turned away from him and walked into the kitchen, Slamming the door hard enough to make the glass rattle behind her.
Peter stayed where he was for a moment, stunned at what seemed to be an irrational response. But then again, he mused, since when has Assumpta Fitzgerald ever been completely rational. Slowly he made his way around the bar, pausing at the closed door, hoping to hear something from within. The only thing he heard was the clattering of pots and pans.
"Assumpta? Can I come in?"
Peter knocked cautiously, aware that angering this Publican could well be hazardous to his health.
"No"
The answer was clear, but there was something else in the way it was said that made Peters heart ache. Assumpta was crying. He tentatively opened the door. Assumpta was facing away from him, arms deep in the sink scrubbing away at already pristine pots. He stepped inside the small room, knowing she was aware he was there.
"I said no Peter"
The words were muffled through her tears, but she kept her back to him as he crossed the room.
"Assumpta..."
"Don't Peter, just don't"
He watched as her shoulders slumped and she turned towards him.
The look of anguish on her face too much for him as he stepped forward and gathered her into his arms. She stood still, desperately trying to hold in the tears that ran freely down her face as he pulled her close, soothing her the best he could. Moments passed and he became aware of her stillness. Peter pulled away slightly, leaning his forehead against hers, running his hands down her arms until he had captured her hands.
"Are you going to tell me what this is all about?"
The tears had all but stopped by the time she looked up at him. Without thinking Peter raised his hand and used the pad of his thumb to wipe away the wetness from beneath her eye and watched with surprise as her pupils dilated at his touch. Suddenly aware of the intimacy of the gesture Peter pulled away, seating himself on the small table in the middle of the room.
"I always want what I can't have"
There was no emotion behind the statement, the confession. Peter looked up, confused at the repeat of the start of the previous night.
"So you've said. Though I still don't see what that has to do with me being barred"
"Tell me what is it that you wanted that you couldn't have Peter?"
It wasn't a question as such, more of a command, one he would have willing followed if it weren't for the collar around his neck. He looked away, yet again unable to hold her gaze.
"Does it matter?"
"Yes"
Peter was suddenly aware of Assumpta in front of him. He attempted to back away before realising that sitting on the table left him little choice but to stay where he was as she watched him struggle with an answer.
"It's not important Assumpta"
"You're not being honest with me again Peter. It obviously is if you won't tell me"
"I can't Assumpta. You want me to be honest with you but I can't."
He watched as Assumpta started to pace, watched as emotions flew across her face, as she fought the anger that wanted to rise to the surface.
"So much for our friendship eh?"
"Assumpta, please. Our friendship mean so much to me. Don't use it against me"
The fire that had been missing from Assumpta suddenly ignited as she rounded on him. Striding over to where he was sitting.
"Tell me what you want Peter"
"I can't"
"Tell me!"
"No"
The fire burned in Assumpta's eyes as she held his gaze and Peter knew that, what ever the outcome of the war, he was losing this battle.
"What. Do. You. Want. That. You. Can't. Have"
With each word Assumpta edged closer. Close enough that he could feel her breath on his lips as she spoke and Peter knew he was lost. He glanced down at her hands that were now either side of him on the table and sighed.
"I'm sorry Assumpta"
Peter moved forward, forcing Assumpta to move out of his way, and made his way towards the door.
"TELL ME!"
Even before the glass had stopped rattling in the door frame he had turned and answered.
"You. I want...you"
A/N This was meant to be a one-shot, but it seems to have gotten a little carried away. So there will be more. I apologise!