Title: Deserving
Author: dizzy - in - the - izzy
Rating: K+
Disclaimer: This is all non-profit.
A/N: So, I've been admiring all of the Red Cricket fanfictions from afar for the past two weeks, reading through them faster than I should have, because now I've read them all. And it makes me sad that there aren't more, so I decided to take a crack at it. I'm very rusty (it's been too long since I've written) but I thought that to help my sorrows tonight, I could write something to make myself feel better. And, this is what happened.
The living room is silent except for the occasional sniffle. Pongo sleeps at the foot of the couch, right near his master's feet. Archie sits on the couch with a box of tissues, and a head lying on a pillow in his lap. He's absentmindedly running his fingers through soft, thick hair, hair that splays out across the pillow and onto his stomach. The owner of the hair lays impossibly still, except her hand, which is holding a tissue to her nose. It's when she reaches out for another one that he finds the courage to speak.
"What's wrong?" he asks quietly, and her hand stills, but only for a moment. She places the used tissue down on the coffee table, and picks up a new tissue from the box. She sniffs loudly, the sound stirring the sleeping dog slightly, before she tilts her head to peek up at him.
His eyes are closed, glasses off. He's been sitting in the same position since she collapsed into his lap, the pillow at first covering her cries. But now he's still there, his hand still moving through her hair, and his heart still beating softly. She lets a ghost of a smile flash across her lips before she too shuts her eyes, and lets out a deep breath.
"I'm not sure," she whispers, and when he doesn't react she's sure he hasn't heard him. But then his hand massages her scalp a little bit harder, and she holds back an appreciative moan.
"I'm all ears."
Suddenly, the thought of him covered in ears pops into her head, and she can't help but giggle. He opens his eyes and stares down at her in surprise, and when she sees this out of the corner of her eye, it only worsens her laughter. He shakes his head in confusion, and lets the laughter pass. It's not long before she's somber again.
"Better?" he says with a hint of sarcasm, and she nods. His hand moves out of her hair, and out of instinct, she reaches up and pulls it over her shoulder, holding it tightly in her grasp near her chin. After the first wave of shock, he relaxes, his hand going almost completely limp. She holds onto his fingers like a lifeline.
"I just…" she trails off, and he squeezes her fingers gently. She can feel the reassurance, and clings to it as she formulates her next sentence.
"You can't… love me."
It's the words he's been expecting to hear for over an hour, and it takes all of his willpower to not laugh at the absurdity. So instead he moves his free hand into her hair again, and hums to himself.
"And why not?"
The question comes out in a defiant tone, and it's not what she expects. The loving feeling of his fingers on her scalp, the warmth of his body pressing at her; it's hard to think coherently like this. So she forces herself to sit up, move slightly away from him. She pulls her knees to her chest and just stares at him as he replaces the glasses on his face, and gives her that warm open look. She regrets moving.
"I'm too young," she spits out, and he seems to hold back a laugh.
"And I'm too old," he retorts, and she glares at him.
"People respect you. People pity me," she says, and he shakes his head.
"You know that's not true," he tries, but she's already on to another.
"I'm not smart enough, I'm going nowhere in life, I'm just a lowly waitress, I'm a killer, I'm so not-"
He stops her from speaking anymore with a finger to her lips, and she gasps. She's almost forgotten he's in the room.
"None of those are true," he replies easily, and she shakes her head.
"You're lying," she retorts, and he chuckles.
"I don't lie. And why would I lie to you?" he asks, and she feels the blush on her cheeks again. She ducks her head, mumbling something into her knees.
"Ruby," he says, and she looks up at him. She lets out a long breath.
"I don't deserve you," she says softly, and he feels something tug in his chest at the dejected tone of her voice. He frowns, moving across the couch to her. He pulls her knees away from her chest, and lays her legs across his lap. He's wrapped his arms around her before she can protest, and he securely places her head on his shoulder.
"Now, that's definitely not true," he responds, lightly pressing a kiss to her forehead. She feels another sob pushing it's way up her chest, and she tries to stop it.
"If anything, I don't deserve you," he states in a matter of fact tone. She tries to look up at him, but his hand is keeping her head firmly on his shoulder. She huffs.
"Now why would you even think that?" she demands, and he kisses her forehead again.
"Because you're beautiful, young, and with so much promise ahead of you. I'm old, and good looking at best. You're free spirited, while I'm stuffy and boring. If there's one thing I'm sure of, it's that I don't deserve you one bit."
She pushes free of his hand, and looks him in the eyes. He's completely serious, and she almost gasps at the raw emotion hiding behind his glasses. She puts her hands on his face, holding him steady as she speaks.
"You're wrong," she states with false confidence, and he just smiles.
"You're wrong," he replies, and she wants to smack him. Or kiss him. She can't decide. Instead she places her head on his shoulder again, letting one of her hands rest on his collarbone.
"I guess that's something we'll have to accept."
"What?" she asks, suddenly confused. He just smiles.
"We both think we don't deserve each other. But, when it comes down to it, there's some part of us that works, otherwise we wouldn't be in this situation."
"That doesn't mean we deserve each other," she whispers, and he nudges her head up off his shoulder. He looks right into her eyes.
"Yes, but it doesn't mean we can't try anyway."
She feels the tears springing into her eyes, and he pushes them away as they fall down her cheeks. She's beginning to feel light, as though she'll float away if he lets her go. She can't remember ever feeling this way. And she supposes that's a good thing.
"I meant what I said. I've fallen in love with you, Ruby," he whispers as his forehead comes to rest against hers, and a small sob escapes her throat. He presses his lips to her gently, and she responds with just as gentle pressure. When he pulls back, she sees the sincerity in his eyes. It only makes her want to cry more.
"I think I'm falling for you too, Archie," she replies, and even though it's not exactly what he wants to hear, he knows that it's better than nothing. And he knows he'll have to work hard to make her understand, believe, that he doesn't tread lightly when it comes to love.
And deserving or not, he's going to love her anyways.
A/N: Sooo, too sappy? Out of character? Let me know! It's literally my first Red Cricket fanfiction, and reviews and tips are appreciated! And, if all goes well, I might write some more in the foreseeable future!
-Izzy