I do not own Ratched.

I do not own my angel boy Huck. But I love him.

Huck Finnigan Lives Again: A Ratched Fairytale

Daisy Do


"Daisy, Daisy, . . .

They are dancing again. Slow, barely shifting weight from side to side.

No slightly deranged, mildly medicated mental patients surrounding them.

Just . . . them.

Another cool Northern California evening, another outing.

Just the two of them now.

And the stars above.

He loves to dance slow with her.

". . . give me your answer, do, . . .'

He loves her.

". . . I'm half crazy . . . "

She's light in his embrace, but warm and real at the same time.

". . . all for the love of you . . ."

Left arm around his shoulder, fingertips stroking the nape of his neck.

". . . it won't be a stylish marriage . . ."

Where it excites and tickles and soothes him all at the same time.

". . . I can't afford a carriage . . ."

Opposite hands of theirs clasped, clasped and curled onto his chest near his heart.

". . . But you'll look sweet . . ."

Faces close, foreheads nearly touching.

And her blue-green-green-blue eyes are so, so luminous.

". . . Upon the seat . . ."

He's been singing to her, soft baritone.

He doesn't sound like Dinah Shore at all.

And he's slowed it down some too.

". . . of a bicycle built for two."

Now he's stopped.

Completely and utterly transfixed . . .

"I don't really have a bicycle built for two."

. . . by the wonder of her.

"You have a good car though."

Of Grace.

"Yes."

And her and him. Together.

"And it's a lovely song. You sing it so well."

And he knows what words he wants to say next.

"In the nursery rhyme, the girl says no. Because she doesn't want to ride a bicycle built for two."

What request.

"Which you don't have."

Proposal.

"No."

Yet Huck is hesitant.

"You're also not crazy."

Because she is her.

"No."

And he loves her so.

"Huck?"

And believes she loves him.

"Hmmm?"

But it's still difficult to ask.

Until . . .

"I won't say no."

. . . it isn't.

And he takes a deep breath, screws up his courage.

"Grace?"

As he gazes deep into those enchanting eyes.

"Yes?"

And speaks the four words he so desires to say.

"Will you marry me?"

And she . . .

"Yes, Huck. I will marry you."

. . . smiles as she replies.

"I love you, Grace."

And then and only then does he allow himself to kiss her.

"I love you, Huck."

And she kisses him . . .

"So much."

. . . right back.


"I, uh, I think I need to talk to your parents."

She smiles gently.

"I think you're right."

And he returns it without even being aware that he does.

"Do you, do you have any idea what they'll say?"

And she's still stroking the hair at the nape of his neck.

"Huck, you're a responsible, intelligent, kind-hearted man."

Still gazing at him with those eyes of hers.

"It's obvious to everyone who meets you that you're an upstanding member of society."

Even if the thought of facing Mr. Miller and Mrs. Miller.

"And I love you."

And requesting their younger daughter's hand.

"They'll say yes."

In holy matrimony.

"Just like me."

Terrifies him.

"Except you won't have to dance with my father."

To his very core.

"But you can if you want."

He chuckles then and she along with him.

And he decides . . .

"It might help."

. . . it will be alright.

"I, uh, I'll have to think on that one."

And he slowly dips his head.

"I really only like to dance . . ."

And kisses her . . .

". . . with you."

. . . again.


But before he faces the father . . .

"Good afternoon, sir. May I . . . help you . . . with . . . something?"

. . . he decides there's something else he has to do next.

"Yes. Good afternoon. I'm here to buy an engagement ring. For my sweetheart."

The jeweler, a slender older man with wire-rimmed glasses, seems to struggle to for a moment.

And Huck knows what he's thinking.

Who would ever want to marry you, young man? You have the face of a monster.

Because the man's right.

Grace.

Who ever would.

She loves me.

But he reassures himself . . .

She's doesn't care about my face.

. . . with the complete . . .

She sees me for who I truly am.

. . . absolute . . .

And I'd like to buy a ring please.

. . . miraculous truth.

"Well, . . . how . . . wonderful. Do you have something in mind?"

And Huck, money in his wallet, . . .

"Something beautiful. Like her."

. . . steps forward to inspect the selection.


"Wellll, how are you doing there, Huck? Grace didn't tell me you were coming by. Good to see you!"

"Good afternoon, Mr. Miller. Actually I came to talk to you. Is Mrs. Miller home as well?"

"Yes. She's in the house. What can we do for you? Everything alright?"

"Yes. I, uh, . . ."

I trust Grace.

". . . wonder if I could have a word with both of you."

But I'm not dancing with her father.

"Ahh. I see. Well, come on in."


Well, hopefully Huck and I aren't jumping into this too soon.

I'm sure you'll be kind enough to let me know, won't you?

Thank you for reading and thank you to DinahRay for taking the time to review. :)