Caroline leans against the doorframe of the old farmhouse, watching Gillian fiddling about under the hood of her beloved Land Rover. Earlier in the week the farmer had mentioned giving it a service, changing the oil or spark plugs or something. Caroline's attention had glazed over at that point, her mind interpreting it as, "Car, car, car, Gillian bending over the engine bay in her cut-off jeans, car, car, car."
She smiles to herself. Looking at her excellent view, she wasn't wrong.
It is why she originally offered to keep an eye on Calamity as well as Flora so Gillian could attend to her car. Looking across to the paddock closest to the house, she can see the girls are engrossed in a game involving umbrellas, witches hats and string. Caroline has no idea what it's about, but the girls are outside, running around and having fun. Gillian's dog, Steve McQueen, circles them as if he's mustering them somewhere and they're completely oblivious to his manoeuvres. What more could a parent want?
Having all of her girls occupied does have the great advantage of leaving Caroline with rare time for contemplation, and watching West Yorkshire's finest arse. She can't think of a better way to spend her afternoon.
Realising she has spent nearly an hour gazing longingly at Gillian's rear end, she glances quickly to check on the kids and goes inside to put the kettle on. As it boils, she efficiently finds the mugs and milk, the teabags and 2 sugars for Gillian. Throwing a tea towel over her shoulder, just in case, she takes the mugs and heads outside.
"Tea? How lovely." Gillian smiles as she accepts the mug, trying not to gulp down the hot brew.
"How's it going?" Caroline asks, nodding to the engine bay.
Gillian looks at her—clean blue jeans, cream-coloured jumper with a draping neckline that softens the blonde bob—and gauges the true level of interest from her partner.
"You don't really want the answer to that, do you?"
Caroline shrugs. "Not really." She laughs softly. "But I am interested if you need anything from me. I'm very happy to help."
Gillian nods. "Noted." She stares at the engine for a moment, then turns back to Caroline. She catches her lover surreptitiously gazing at her bottom again, and wryly chuckles. "But if you want to be useful, you could keep checking out my arse."
Caroline laughs, the surprise of finally being sprung perving less significant than the opportunity of the offer.
"As you wish," Caroline says fondly, her hand sliding over the backside in question, a caress before giving it a gentle pat. "It's such a fine bottom though, Gillian, worth the scrutiny."
Gillian laughs again, head in the engine bay as she calls out, "I'm glad you think so. Thanks for the tea!"
Caroline glances at the girls, watching them play. It's been a godsend the girls get on so well. It makes life much easier for them all. Caroline is very fond of Ellie now, appreciating her energy and enthusiasm for the job of parenting, understanding from her own experience the difficult juggling act Ellie unwittingly embarked on all those years ago. She's also very fond of Raff, who's grown into a smart and patient young man, and will be a fine teacher once he's had a few years under his belt.
She sits on the stone wall and tunes out the music from the radio balanced precariously on the flank of the Land Rover, as song after song of 60s pap too old to mean anything to her filters into the yard. Sipping her tea, keeping an eye on the girls and distractedly watching Gillian, her mind wanders.
She's been thinking recently of how she and Gillian met, how they fought and never quite found solid ground early on, except for brief periods. She wonders exactly when this changed to the equanimity they now enjoy with each other.
Thinking about mass and attraction, the Pauli Exclusion principle springs to mind. It makes sense to her that two people who are very alike can't exist together, that it takes difference to coexist with stability. It's their differences that allow her and Gillian to be closer, to fill the gaps in one another, creating balance. There is a symmetry to the idea of it that excites her, and she smiles.
Looking again at her lover, Caroline's eyes travel from Gillian's derrière to her face, seeing the concentration apparent in the furrow between her eyebrows. She notices the dexterous fingers finding the precise tools required for each part of the job while Gillian's mind works on it like a puzzle to be solved, deducing the order of parts out and back into the vehicle. It gives Caroline a sense of pride that her partner, the woman she loves, can fix things. She's not even sure if this is work or play for Gillian, such is the farmer's joy of breathing life into old things.
Thinking more abstractly, it seems odd to her that society so distinctly compartmentalises the worlds of work, home and play. It is a simplistically designed framework, a hangover from more mechanistic times. Caroline wonders about herself, and more specifically, how she fits into this model. While she finds comfort in organisation and compartmentalisation, she is very aware her life could be structured in other ways and still function.
She chuckles briefly. Flora's like her; she likes organisation too, but while Gillian has her own systems at the farm, she is more flexible in her thinking and would adapt well to any changes. Caroline grins, knowing Gillian's very loose adherence to any rules are a constant challenge and yet also, a constant delight. She can't imagine being with anyone else, not now. They've adapted to one another, fitted around one another, accommodating histories and families and blind spots until they operate as a whole.
Abstracting the world in a different way, her vision blurs, the colours softening in the late afternoon light. She sees cords of connection between herself and Gillian, herself and Flora, Gillian and the land, Gillian and Calamity, and how intertwined they all are. She understands even Kate is part of the tableau. She had originally thought of Kate as a gap in her life but she now realises Kate is a shadow who stands beside her, the connection of love not broken but faded, softened, allowing Caroline the freedom to change, to grow.
A cloud passes slowly overhead, the pale shadow it projects onto the ground washes across the landscape adding a filter of blue to the rustic scene. She looks again at Gillian as the blue hues change her perspective. Gillian continues to hum along with the music, lost in her puzzle, but Caroline sees the possibilities for their future. That's when it hits her. She sits still, heart pounding, the certainty of it washing through her with warmth. So profound the is the truth it demands to be spoken out loud.
"Oh, I could spend all my life with you."
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Thank you Dis Moi for kindly being my beta for this chapter. Fabulous advice, as always. ❤️
Thank you VivianDarkbloom for lending me Steve McQueen, because we all know he's fanon now.
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Anywhere, Anytime by Beau Taplin, from Worlds of You, 2017
If you look at the chapter headings of this fic you'll see the poem by Taplin. His work is wonderful so check it out if you're into poetry.
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For anyone into The Princess Bride, you'll know every time Westley tells Buttercup, "As you wish," he means, "I love you," and so does Caroline in this story..
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Folks, I won't be posting on here any more but I will be posting on AO3 so come and find me there if you wish.
Thank you to anyone who read my work, and especially to those who left reviews. It was really kind of you. It gave me great delight to read them and I really appreciated it. Thank you.
Thanks for the ride folks. It's been a blast.