CHAPTER 2: S is for Scared

A/N: Still from Martin's POV. This just walked into my head (mainly because I wanted to know the name of Martin's new girlfriend!) and I worry about him. A lot.

All characters belong to John Finnemore, except Rhiannon, who is mine.

Martin's in bed, with his eyes tight shut and he really, really doesn't want to open them. Because he's actually very frightened of what may or may not happen (oh God, please don't let me have screwed this up) and perhaps if he lies there very still then he might look as if he's still asleep and if he lies there long enough then perhaps it will be all right or perhaps it was all a dream (though you know it wasn't, don't you?) and oh please God let it all be all right.

Because although Martin is in bed, he's not in his own bed. Because last night he and Rhiannon went to the pub again and Rhiannon - that wonderful crazy Welsh girl who said she really, really liked him - (and Martin's afraid that once she gets to know him better she won't really, really like him any more) asked him if when they'd walked back to her house if he'd like to have a coffee and then one thing led to another and it's all a bit confused in his mind but when he woke up he knew he wasn't in his own bed because, well, you know when you're in your own bed, and Rhiannon was lying next to him and for a moment he couldn't believe that this wonderful, crazy girl was there with him and then – and then – she very quietly got out of bed and got dressed and went out and Martin doesn't know what he should do. Because perhaps she expects him just to get up and go home and be out of her room before she gets back and perhaps she doesn't ever want to see him again and perhaps it just shouldn't have happened and perhaps it all happened a bit too quickly (too late to think about that now, isn't it?) and he has this dreadful feeling that perhaps it wasn't really very good. Because actually Martin isn't too used to this physical stuff and perhaps it wasn't very good and perhaps Rhiannon didn't enjoy it and oh God... oh God. And it's not really the sort of thing you can ask anyone about (and who the hell could you talk to? Carolyn? Arthur? Douglas? Do you really think they'd tell you what to do?)

So there he is, lying rigid in the bed and too frightened to open his eyes and oh God he wants Rhiannon back in bed with him because – well, because. And he hears the door open and just like when he was a child he wants it to be yesterday and to get everything right this time (and stop pretending because you know it isn't yesterday and you've got to face this) and he pretends he's still asleep and Rhiannon says come on sleepyhead, I know you're not asleep, and he opens his eyes and she's smiling and says coffee's on and I've bought croissants and they're still warm and how about breakfast and he starts to apologise (oh, that's always you, isn't it) and he begins to stutter and oh God why can't I ever get anything right? and she bends down and kisses him and says hey, don't worry, and then she takes her clothes off and gets back into bed with him and then in a while the croissants go cold and the kettle boils dry and Martin isn't scared any more.

Because everything is All Right.