Untitled As of Yet
By Usabelle
AN: She lives! You've all been so patient and supportive in my long hiatus; thank you so much! I haven't had much time to write lately because, well, life (and a freak storm that zapped my computer and deleted what I'd previously written) has gotten in the way. I'll be having hand surgery soon so hang tight and I'll update as soon as I can. I do need to address a certain review, though; in Chapter Six I had a slight oops in the timeline. Originally, I wanted Serena and Darien to be together for three months before the breakup, but after revising, I changed it to six months. Unfortunately, I missed a part or two when I was changing the numbers. Just to clarify, they were together for six months. Sorry about that! Once again, thanks for the reads and reviews and please keep them coming! Suggestions are always welcome, well, unless they're flames because my ego can't take it!
Standard Disclaimers Apply
Chapter Eight
"You what?" Serena asked in wide-eyed disbelief.
Darien opened his mouth and quickly shut it again. Suddenly a look of extreme horror crossed his face and he bolted out of the room.
Serena followed closely behind him, "Darien? What's wrong?" She stopped abruptly at the bathroom door that slammed in her face. Pounding on the door, she called worriedly, "Are you okay?" No response. "Talk to me, Darien," she pleaded when she heard a gagging sound and nearly gagged as well as he emptied the contents of his stomach.
She opened the door to find a barely-conscious Darien leaning over the toilet.
His bloodshot eyes gazed up at her from his prone position on the floor. "Serena? I threw up." He said it just as a sick child would and she couldn't help but feel sorry for him.
Grimacing, she wet a washcloth and brought it over to him, gingerly cleaning his pallid face. "I can see that," she said quietly.
He moaned, "I don't feeeeel gooooood..." He shut his eyes and fell back against a mahogany cabinet.
"I know you don't feel well, Darien," she soothed, removing her pink and black suit jacket and matching heels. Raising herself up from her uncomfortable position on the floor, she looked at him worriedly. "Darien," she called, and he swung his head in her direction, "I have to run to the living room for a minute. Yell if you need me. I'll be right back."
The vacant look in his eyes indicated that he barely understood what she'd said. He grunted in response.
Shaking her head at her ridiculous predicament, she quickly ran to the living room where she rapidly slipped out of her confining black skirt and placed it over the couch with her jacket and shoes. Padding softly back to him in her camisole and slip, she took a seat on the large white rug in the middle of the floor where he sat in an entranced sort of way.
Coming out of his stupor, his glazed-over eyes rolled in her direction. "Guess what?" he asked, half-conscious.
She decided to humor him. "What?"
"I brought Beryl to make you jealous," he drawled.
Her eyes widened. "You did." It was more of a statement than a question. She thought back to the funeral; while Beryl was all over him, he barely responded. Things were finally starting to make sense.
He broke her out of her musings. "Well? Did it work?"
"Did what work?" she asked.
Rolling his eyes in annoyance, he muttered unintelligibly before answering. "Jealousy. Did I make you jealous?"
Taking pity on his drunken, prone form, she sighed. "Maybe. Maybe just a little. But it wasn't a nice thing to do, Darien." She chided herself when she realized that she was telling the truth; bringing Beryl did make her jealous.
His eyes watered and her heart broke. He moaned, "I know... I do a lot of bad things... maybe that's why people leave me..." he rambled on incoherently for a while before looking up at her again. "But you won't leave me, right? Please don't."
She couldn't help but think that he meant it in more ways than one. Letting him rest his head on her chest, she sat on the cold floor leaning against the glass shower, pushing dark strands of hair from his eyes. "Don't worry, Darien," she whispered, "I won't leave you."
Serena awoke to the steady pounding of rain in a dark, strange bedroom. The soft, comfortable bed wasn't the cold tile she'd fallen asleep on. Focusing her eyes as best she could, she looked around to find Darien's arm draped over her stomach. She tried to sit up but found it impossible so she attempted to remove his hand from her midsection. Suddenly, he murmured slightly and pulled her closer. Much closer. So close, in fact, that he ended up laying half on top of her. Despite the turmoil going on in her crushed internal organs, he continued to sleep peacefully.
For a brief moment, she scrutinized the quietly sleeping man. His hair was sticking out in all directions and an innocent, boyish expression was playing on his face. All in all, he looked quite adorable. From her view, it also looked like he was quite naked. A million thoughts ran through her head as she tried to collect herself. Did they... No, she decided, they hadn't slept together. He was far too sick for that. Suddenly he began to stir and she immediately shut her eyes.
Darien slowly sat up in bed, clutching his head. Surveying his surroundings, he found Serena sleeping soundly to his left. Carefully extricating himself from her, he got out of bed as quietly as possible so as not to wake her. Staring at her lovingly for a moment, he leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead and whispered, "I love you," ever so softly into her ear before walking out of the room.
As soon as she decided that he was a safe distance away, her eyes popped open in shock. She covered her mouth to suppress the squeal that rose up in her throat. So he was telling the truth the night before! It wasn't just an idiotic, drunken proclamation of love! She halted her exuberance when she realized that she was supposed to be through with him.
Frowning, she sat up and rubbed her sore neck. How was she supposed to act around him now? She slowly got up and contemplated her situation. The night before she'd seen a new side of Darien. She'd never seen him so angry or so... vulnerable. She couldn't help but think that there was more to him than she'd originally assumed. Deciding that her thoughts were far too deep to think about that early in the morning, she busied herself with finding the remainder of her clothes. Her mind was too thick with sleep to remember where she put the business suit that she'd worn the evening before. Blushing at her lack of clothing, she wandered out of the bedroom in search of her outfit.
A slightly sleepy voice snapped her out of her hunt. "Coffee?"
She looked up to find a steaming cup of coffee in her face. Looking beyond the cup, she found a shirtless Darien smiling slightly, looking weary as ever. Blushing, she nodded in response. "Yes, please." She took the cup from his hand, nearly dropping it when his hand brushed hers. Looking around confusedly, she searched for a clock but found none. "What time is it?"
"Two," he replied easily, walking over to the coffee pot and pouring himself a cup as well.
"In the afternoon?" she nearly shrieked.
When he flinched from the loud noise, she felt terrible and quieted. "Yes, in the afternoon," he said exasperatedly, "After last night, we needed the sleep."
She nodded silently and mindlessly stirred her coffee.
He nodded and looked at her amusedly. "You're cute when you're unaware."
Her eyes widened and she blushed. "Um... thanks..." she stammered in an embarrassed tone. He watched her for a moment and she became nervous under his penetrating gaze. "What?"
He tilted his head to the side, sleepiness slowly leaving his perfect features. "Why do you always do that?"
"Do what?" she asked confusedly.
"Whenever I give you a compliment," he began, "you look at me like I either grew an arm out of my head or like I'm a complete liar."
She glared defensively, "Well what do you expect? Thanks to you, I have zero self-confidence!"
"I said I was sorry!" he barked, then quieted. He sighed, frustrated. "I just don't understand you."
Putting down the cup of coffee, she angrily began to search for her skirt and jacket. "I don't recall ever asking you to understand me. And I suggest that you don't even try." She found her skirt and slipped it on. "I'm not some mystery for you to solve."
His eyes narrowed and he crossed his arms, "I was attempting to be conciliatory."
She rolled her eyes, "Oh, I think you were conciliatory enough last night."
To her surprise, his face fell and he looked away in shame. "Sorry about last night," he said softly, "I've been known to be a pain in the ass when I'm drunk."
Her brow furrowed, "Does that mean it's a regular occurrence?"
His cerulean eyes held the same naked, scared quality of the night before. "No... of course not... I'm just aware of the fact that when I do get drunk, I can be a handful."
She looked at him, bewildered. "Do you even remember what happened last night?" she asked.
He smirked and looked away. "Parts of it."
Picking up her jacket from the arm of the couch, she stared at him curiously. "Which parts?"
He sighed, "I remember getting wasted at a bar after seeing you with him, and then I remember you taking care of me when I got sick. I woke up in your lap a couple of hours ago and moved us to the bed."
"So you conveniently forgot our little conversation," she deadpanned in annoyance.
Smacking his forehead, he looked at her apologetically. "I probably said a lot of stupid shit last night. I'm sorry."
She shook her head and slipped on her jacket, "Don't worry about it. You've been known to say a lot of stupid shit when you're sober."
He grinned good-naturedly, "The insults just don't stop with you, do they?" When she didn't respond, he grew serious. "What the hell did I say to you to make you this upset?"
Serena finally looked up at his concerned face. How was she supposed to tell him? She sighed. "I'm not upset. Just... surprised."
His eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Why?"
She stared at him awkwardly before speaking. "You told me... well... um... I guess you kind of told me that you've been in love with me since you were eighteen," she blurted.
She watched raptly as he paled and a stricken look crossed his face. At that moment, he resembled a frightened rabbit and it seemed as though he was going to bolt at any moment. The room was silent with the exception of the steady rainfall beating against the windows. He stood there, rooted to the spot in embarrassment and fear. "I told you that?" he whispered.
"Well, yeah," she replied, feeling bad for him, "but let's not forget that you were completely plastered at the time."
He shook his head and gazed at her sadly. "It was true," he said in a defeated tone, "So I guess you can leave, since you're probably totally disgusted by now."
She approached him quietly and carefully. "No, Darien. I'd never feel that way. I won't leave unless you want me to."
Darien gave a melancholy smile, "Why bother staying? It's not like you feel the same way."
Her brow furrowed and she felt extremely miffed at his remark. "Don't assume that I don't care about you, Darien Shields!"
Thunder tore through the air in the background and she jumped. He stood still, seemingly unaffected. "Caring is just fine," he retorted coldly, "but do you love me? No, of course you don't. You're incapable of loving someone like me."
Her eyes flew to his face and narrowed, "Since when are you the authority on love? What makes you think that I don't love you?"
He laughed bitterly. "Let's see... you broke up with me when I told you that I loved you..." he drawled sarcastically.
"Okay," she cut him off, "Bad example. But I do care about you. In fact," she paused, "It think I even... I mean... I..." she stuttered. Her stomach rolled in nervousness. She just couldn't get those three little words out.
At her words, the bitter expression on his face melted away into one of hope. He moved closer to her and gave a tiny, encouraging smile. "You what?" he asked softly, bringing a hand up to her cheek.
The nauseating exposed feeling that had previously plagued her instantly disappeared as she looked into his eyes. She realized that he was everything she'd ever wanted and she'd sabotaged her own happiness for too long. Pride, she realized, had gotten her through tough times, but was she happy? No. Her face burned a brilliant shade of red, yet she spoke with confidence. "I love you, Darien," she confessed, a nervous smile playing on her lips.
A fraction of a second passed before he reached out and pulled her shaking body to his. "Say it again," he pleaded in an unsteady voice, holding onto her as though she might disappear.
"I love you," she repeated joyfully, entranced by the blissful look in Darien's eyes.
He pressed his lips to hers again and again, beaming all the while. "I love you too," he whispered between kisses. He nuzzled her collarbone, delighting in what he had missed. "God, I love you, Serena," he whispered once again before crushing his mouth to hers.
Several moments later they broke apart, taking in large breaths of air. Serena rested her forehead on his. "I missed you," she whispered affectionately, placing a tiny kiss on the tip of his nose. He scrunched his nose and she laughed in amusement. "You are the only person I know who has a ticklish nose."
He smirked, "My nose isn't the only thing that's ticklish... but that's another story for another time."
She raised an eyebrow, "Really? Where?"
"Somewhere in the realm of Darien Jr.," he responded, flashing a brilliant smile.
Grinning devilishly, she unwound her hands from behind his neck and slid them down his bare chest. "Darien Jr. and I really haven't gotten acquainted yet," she teased.
Catching both of her hands in his larger ones, Darien held them and looked at her lovingly. "Unfortunately, you won't get to meet him quite yet. I want to do this right. I plan to sweep you off your feet before you meet the big guy. So, as much as I want to, and believe me, I really really want to," he gazed at her appreciatively, "I'm going to wait."
A slow smile spread across her face. "I can respect that," she said amusedly. "I appreciate it, too. In all of my relationships, I don't think anyone has shown me as much respect as you just did."
"Well then," he drawled, "it looks like I have several men to beat up."
"Several?" she asked in astonishment, "Hardly."
He smiled contentedly and draped an arm over her shoulder. "Good. You know what? I have a great idea- how about we never mention past relationships ever again?"
She gazed at him thoughtfully. "That sounds like a brilliant idea. Deal," she shook his hand in agreement and began to giggle at his mock-serious expression.
"Excellent," he replied lightly, satisfaction apparent in his voice. He led her over to the couch where they sat comfortably. When he reached for the phone and she looked at him questioningly, he returned the look with a mischievous one. "Might I suggest room service and pay-per-view? The weather is crappy and I don't feel like going out. Consider this wooing 101."
She rested her head on his shoulder and looked up from the television with a satisfied smile on her face, "How romantic."
The departure time for Serena's flight came far too early the next day. They'd fallen asleep on the couch after watching a marathon of sappy romantic comedies that lasted until about three a.m.. She had to arrive at the airport at five in order to catch her seven o'clock flight and Darien wasn't helping. After sleepily shaking him awake, she'd tried to collect herself enough in order to go back to her own room but he wouldn't have it. He simply told her to "skip it" and then kept her...occupied for the next ten minutes.
Groaning, she fished for her room key in her purse. "I don't want to go..." she whined.
"Then don't," he said easily, taking her purse out of her hands.
She sighed, "I don't have much of a choice. See, us normal people have to fly on these things called airlines. We don't have private jets that can leave whenever we feel like it."
When she reached for the purse, he held it over her head and grinned. "Then you can just take the jet back with me," he suggested, as if it was the answer to all of her problems.
"Um... let me think... no." she said pensively, a scowl forming on her face, "If you'll remember correctly, you took Beryl's daddy's private jet and I really don't think you want the plane to become the scene of a homicide."
He raised an eyebrow, "Homicide?"
"That many hours in an enclosed space with Beryl the Wonder Whore? She'd be lucky if she had any hair left on that peroxide-abused head by the time I'd be done with her," she said sarcastically, "Pardon me if the idea isn't too appealing."
He gazed at her contemplatively for a moment before speaking. "You know what? You're right. That would be unbearable. In that case, I'll just have to fly back with you on one of the airlines," he supposed.
"Really? The high and mighty Darien Shields flying coach? I never thought I'd see the day," she retorted, grinning.
His nose was high in the air like a true aristocrat when he spoke, "I feel that it's important to see how the other half lives. You know, to keep me grounded." Her incessant giggling caused his smile to widen even further. "I'm curious, though; if Mr. Moneybags was paying for a room for you here, then why are you flying coach?"
A pang of guilt hit her as she remembered Allan and how she had more or less abandoned him. "Well, he insisted on paying for the hotel, so I insisted on paying for the plane ticket. And since I don't make a six-figure salary, coach was my best option."
He took note of the guilt in her eyes and shook his head. "Don't you start with the whole guilt trip. Allan is a big boy who can take care of himself. Besides, you're mine now and I won't have you off gallivanting with another man anyway. So, essentially, it's my fault and you have nothing to feel guilty about," he rationalized comically.
"I love it when you rationalize," she said warmly, kissing him on the cheek before she collected her things. "Why don't you meet me at my room in twenty minutes and we can leave from there?" She quickly gave him the room number and headed for the door.
He nodded in agreement and didn't let her leave before kissing her goodbye. Leaning against the doorframe, he watched her walk down the hallway to the elevator. "Don't go running off with a bellhop, now," he called teasingly, and grinned when he heard a muffled "Yeah, right" as the elevator doors closed.
Serena nearly floated back to her room, giggling like a schoolgirl while passerbys looked at her strangely. She didn't care, though; she was in love. Grinning from ear to ear, she walked to her door only to find an angry-looking Allan waiting there. Her eyes nearly popped out of her head at the sight of the fuming man.
"Allan," she greeted him awkwardly, opening the door and ushering him in, "What are you doing here?"
His usually gentle brown eyes glared at her accusingly. "Where were you all day yesterday? I called you six times! And why are you still wearing that outfit?"
She blushed. The situation really did look terrible. Before she even got a chance to answer, he started in again. "You were with him, weren't you?"
"Well, yes," she admitted, "But that's really my business," she said defensively, gathering the remainder of her clothing strewn about the floor. Just because he'd paid for her room didn't mean that it gave him the right to dictate who she spent time with. At the feral look in his eyes, she backed up a bit. "Listen," she started in a placating tone, "I'm sorry that I wasn't here for you during this difficult time, but I had some personal matters that I needed to tend to as well."
"The drunkard?" he spat venomously.
"He's not a drunkard," she shot back in Darien's defense.
"Who's not a drunkard?" a new voice entered the conversation. Darien stood in the still-open doorway.
Allan glared at him, "You."
Darien grinned and shrugged off the other man's glare, "Well that's good to know." He walked over to Serena, putting his hands on her shoulders, "You want me to help you pack? I've already called for my tickets and I'm all done packing."
Before she could say anything, Allan cut in. "I can't believe you'd be so stupid."
Both of them whipped around to face him. "Excuse me?" Serena asked, slightly taken aback.
"This man... if you can even call him that... has put you through hell for the past ten years of your life. He's cheated on you, used you, and basically ruined you. How could you be so stupid to go back to him again?" Allan finished, disgusted.
While Darien looked as though he was going to rip out Allan's throat at any given moment, Serena looked incredibly guilty. "You're right," she conceded, "he has put me through hell. But I've done some things that I'm not proud of as well. At this point, I'm just too tired to think about revenge and pride and... I just want to be happy..." she trailed off timidly. "He makes me happy..."
"Fine," Allan snapped coldly, "But you'll regret it." With that, he stalked out of the room, slamming the door.
"Well," Serena smiled lamely, looking up at her boyfriend whose face showed a mixture of anger, shock, and arrogance all at once. "I suppose that went well."
When they arrived at the airport, it was pouring in sheets of rain as thunder boomed overhead. Serena scowled at the sky as she stepped out of the taxi with Darien under a large black umbrella. "Does it ever not rain here?"
He smiled at her lovingly, "You've never really liked thunder, have you?"
She smirked, taking a small luggage bag, "Not liking it is an understatement. I'm terrified by it."
"Nothing to be afraid of, darling," he reassured her, "Don't you know that it's just angels bowling?"
Raising an eyebrow, she gazed at him in curiosity. "Angels bowling?"
His eyes took on a faraway expression as he spoke. "When I was little, I was afraid of thunder because I thought it meant that God was mad. But someone told me that it was actually the opposite. They told me that it was a party in heaven, and the sound of thunder is merely the sound of angels bowling."
She sighed happily and squeezed his arm affectionately. "That was so cute, Darien!" she cooed.
"Not too stupid?"
Shaking her head fiercely, she smiled reassuringly, "Of course not! Now every time it rains, I'll think of that and I'll smile!"
He looked at her contemplatively, putting an arm around her as they walked into the airport. "You know, I've never told anyone that before."
She snuggled deeper into his embrace. "Thank you, Darien."
By the time they boarded the plane, the torrential downpour had lessened to little more than a sprinkle, yet it did nothing to calm Serena's anxiety. Clutching Darien's arm for dear life, they searched for their seats in the back of the plane. She stiffly turned to a long-haired woman in uniform, "Stewardess? Can you tell me where 26A and B are?"
The person sharply turned around and glared. "Flight attendant, damn it! How many times must I tell people? We are not stewardesses! Flight attendant!"
Serena and Darien jumped back, terrified. "Sorry," Darien muttered before turning to Serena, "We'll find the seats ourselves."
They squeezed their way down the tiny aisle to their seats in the very back of the plane. Darien looked at the location and grimaced, "You want the window seat?"
She smiled apprehensively, "Thanks."
Just as they got settled, a little boy with slicked back blonde hair in a tuxedo climbed into the seat next to Darien. His mother, a portly woman wearing a camera around her neck, soon followed the overdressed child. She took a seat in the middle row, the aisle separating her from her son. As soon as the engine started, the child began to fidget and whine.
His mother looked at him worriedly, "What's wrong, Shane?"
"I WANTED THE WINDOW SEAT!" the child screamed obnoxiously.
Both Serena and Darien winced. Serena looked at the child with slight pity. "Do you want to switch places?" she asked, trying to appease the child.
His face contorted into a grimace. "No!" he wailed, "It has icky 'you' germs now!"
Serena's face held an expression of shock as the mother laughed. "Oh, don't worry about Shane, now," his mother drawled in a thick southern accent. "He just got back from the International Petite Gentleman's Pageant and he's used to the star treatment."
Shane looked at Serena and Darien haughtily. "I only deserve the best."
Darien leaned over to Serena and whispered, "What the child deserves is a time out."
Shane glared at Darien, got out of his seat, and kicked him squarely in the shin. When Darien screamed in pain, the devil child laughed hysterically. "I heard that, you poophead!"
Shane's mother giggled once again, "Calm down, baby," she turned to the horrified couple, "Shane got first place in the pageant and the Mr. Congeniality award."
While Serena and Darien looked on with mute interest, Shane stood on his seat proudly, "Everyone loves me."
Just as they were about to respond, the disgruntled "flight attendant" came over to their row. "Honey," she addressed the abhorrent little child sweetly, "The plane's about to take off and we want you to be safe, so if you'll please sit down in your seat and buckle up, we'll feel much better." When Shane complied, the seemingly docile flight attendant turned evil once again as she turned to Serena and Darien. "I see you found your seats," she said contemptuously, gazing at them venomously.
"Yes, thank you," Serena squeaked, more terrified than before.
The flight attendant stalked away as the intercom came on. "We hope you enjoy your flight with us," the cheery voice said, "The duration of the flight will be approximately seven hours and fifty minutes..." Darien looked at Serena, petrified. It was going to be a long flight.
Four extremely long hours later, Shane and Donna May, as they'd learned to call his mother, were still chatting away about his latest awards and accolades. Darien rubbed his temples while Serena resorted to banging her head against the small window in an attempt to knock herself out. She heard him chant, "Six more hours... six more hours..." and wanted to cry.
Suddenly Donna May stopped her chattering and held out her hands in surprise. "Baby, hold it right there! That is just the most adorable pose I have ever seen! I'm so glad I brought my camera and seven rolls of film!" With that, she began to snap photo after photo of Shane in the same position. "Hold on, baby," she said after a while, "I have to change the rolls of film."
Shane looked up at Darien who was now trying to block out the sound by turning up his headphones to the highest volume, but to no avail. "I'm adorable," he said obnoxiously, swinging his legs back and forth in his seat.
As Donna May rummaged through her ridiculously large carry-on bag, a cell phone fell out. She picked it up and squealed in delight, "Shane! We haven't called grandma yet! I don't care what time it is in the United States! She must know about our win!" Without further ado, she dialed up grandma and began talking excitedly about her son once again. After about fifteen minutes of incessant bragging, she nudged the pompous brat. "Baby, why don't you sing the song that won you the pageant? Grandma would love to hear it!"
Serena groaned quietly and leaned over to Darien, whispering agitatedly, "But we wouldn't!"
Shane unbuckled his seatbelt and grabbed the phone out of his mother's hands. "Grandma? I just did a wonderful job on my song! I got a ten point zero! Do you want to hear it? Of course you do!" he cleared his throat and Serena and Darien prayed for mercy. "And now, I'd like to do a little number I like to call 'Tomorrow.'"
His voice sounded suspiciously like a used car salesman and Serena groaned, "Good God, what have I done to deserve this?" She could have sworn she saw tears in Darien's eyes.
"The sun will come out..." he paused for effect, "tomorrow... bet your bottom dollar that..." he paused again, "tomorrow... there'll be sun..." Once again, he stood up on his chair so that everyone could see (and hear) him. After another horrible verse, he began to do hand (and face) motions. "When I'm stuck in a day that's gray, and lonely," he gave a sad face for these lyrics, "I just stick out my chin, and grin, and say, oh! TOMORROW!" pause, "TOMORROW!" another pause, "I love ya, tomorrow! You're only a day," pause, "a-" pause, "WAY!" he finished in an off-key note. When he finished, the entire crowd in coach stared at him, irritated.
It was deadly quiet with the exception of his mother's clapping. "That was beautiful, honey," she said, wiping away a tear. "Do that one that won you the Little Prince title."
Shane grinned, "I like to call this number 'Don't Rain on My Parade.'"
Darien really did start crying this time. "Make it stop," he moaned as Serena held him.
"Don't tell me not to fly--I've simply got to. If someone takes a spill, it's me and not you. Who told you you're allowed to rain on my PARAAAAAAAADE!"
"SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP YOU UNTALENTED LITTLE TROLL!" Darien screamed, reaching his limit. Everyone in coach stared at him in shock, and for some people, in thanks. He grabbed the phone from the stunned little boy's hand, "Hello, Grandma?" he greeted in rage, "I'd like to congratulate you for contributing genes to the most hideously annoying child that ever lived! Goodbye!" he handed the phone back to the child who still stood frozen.
Suddenly, the boy began to wail hysterically. At the dissonant sound, everyone groaned. The disgruntled flight attendant marched over to the boy. "What has that mean man done to you?" she asked sweetly, handing him a lollipop. She turned to Darien, putting her hands on her hips and giving him the look of death. "If you don't want to be arrested when you get off this plane, I suggest you be nice to this darling little boy."
Darien's eyes were wide with fear. "Yes, ma'am," he replied meekly, relieved when she stalked away. He looked over at Serena, "This is why I don't fly coach."
An hour later, lunch was being served on the flight from hell. The angry flight attendant practically threw the plastic containers on Serena and Darien's trays.
Serena lifted the lid off of the container and stared at the grayish, unidentifiable meat that sat on her plate. She grimaced and tried to get the attention of the flight attendant, "Excuse me, miss, but I ordered chicken..."
The woman didn't even turn around to look at her, "That is chicken," she said contemptuously, walking away.
Meanwhile, Darien was poking at his meatloaf with his fork. "It's like cement," he commented, grimacing.
Shane also was not happy with his meal of chicken nuggets that looked arguably better than the meatloaf or grilled chicken. Smacking Darien on the arm to get his attention, he scrunched up his face in disgust when Darien turned to face him.
"What now?"
"I don't like mine!" he wailed. "I want yours!"
When people were beginning to stare, Darien groaned, "Fine." He took the container and practically threw it on the boy's tray. Looking down at his new meal, he blushed: animal-shaped chicken nuggets and chocolate pudding with star-shaped sprinkles.
He looked over at Serena who was giggling quietly at his meal when he felt something wet and mushy hit his arm. He looked over to find mashed potatoes dripping down the arm of his Armani suit jacket with the little culprit looking positively devilish. Serena gasped and he looked at her, "Please restrain me from killing him."
She gave him a kiss on the cheek and helped him remove the stained jacket. "Poor baby," she said in sympathy as he put the jacket under the tray in barely controlled anger. "Don't worry; just a few more hours and we'll be home."
He smiled and kissed her softly on the lips but froze when he heard an obnoxious "Ewww!" in the background. At this point he also noticed that his jacket was missing from his lap. He turned around to find Shane rummaging through the pockets of his jacket.
When he pulled out a small black box, Darien's eyes widened in horror. "Give that to me!" Darien hissed, unable to reach the box as Shane slipped out of the seat and ran to his mother's lap.
With complete disregard for other people's property, Shane opened the tiny box. Serena watched in curiosity and Darien in dread as the little boy's jaw dropped. "Wow!" he squealed in excitement, taking a shiny object from the box, "It's so pretty!" The devil child walked over to Darien, "Can I keep it?"
Serena was confused at the horrified expression on Darien's face. Looking for the source of his reaction, she looked over to see what the child was holding. In a chubby hand lay a glittering diamond ring.
Snatching the ring from the child's hand, Darien shook his head furiously. "No, you may not!" He immediately looked at Serena, who had obviously seen what the child held.
Confusion whirled around her mind. "Was that..." she stopped, unable to finish. Was it meant for her? What if it wasn't? She groaned inwardly at the awkward situation.
He nodded in defeat. "Yes... it was. I'm sorry... I didn't want to do this here..." he muttered, almost to himself. She merely looked at him in confusion. "You deserve candles and roses and a fancy dinner on the beach... not this," he said regretfully.
Her brow furrowed, "What do you mean?"
"I... I mean that I didn't want to do this in a place full of people we don't know, with me covered in mashed potatoes in the back of a crappy plane." He took her hands, "I love you, you know that, right?"
She nodded fiercely, smiling, "I love you, too."
He smiled weakly and continued, "I know that I've done a lot of stupid things in the past. I've hurt you so many times, and you've still forgiven me. I know that I don't deserve you-"
She cut him off, "Don't say that!"
He shrugged, "It's true. I don't deserve you but God knows I have to have you. When I lost you, I felt like a part of me was gone... and I never want to feel that again."
Her eyes began to tear at his words and his face pinkened even more, "I'm sorry, this must sound so corny... I wanted to have this all planned..."
She shook her head and smiled through her tears, "No... it's perfect..."
He took a breath. "I love you, Serena. More than I've ever loved anyone or anything. I would get down on my knee if I could, but..." he held out the ring that glittered with promise and love, "Marry me?"
Not wasting a second, she launched herself into his arms, disregarding everything else around her. "Yes," she cried, tears of joy falling unheeded from her crystal blue eyes, "Yes, of course I'll marry you!"
END CHAPTER EIGHT
AN: Aren't you glad that I didn't leave you hanging? I was so tempted to leave it as a cliffhanger but since everyone was so patient with my last (and ridiculously long) update, I decided that you deserved that one extra paragraph. But come on people, did you really think she'd say no? I certainly wouldn't. Oh yes, I don't own both of the songs that Shane sung- I actually had to do research for this one by looking up the lyrics. I hope I didn't offend anyone with my stage mom- I just know someone like that and it's a fairly accurate representation. Well, I do believe that's it until next time darlings! Please keep reviewing and I'll try to update sooner this time!
By Usabelle
AN: She lives! You've all been so patient and supportive in my long hiatus; thank you so much! I haven't had much time to write lately because, well, life (and a freak storm that zapped my computer and deleted what I'd previously written) has gotten in the way. I'll be having hand surgery soon so hang tight and I'll update as soon as I can. I do need to address a certain review, though; in Chapter Six I had a slight oops in the timeline. Originally, I wanted Serena and Darien to be together for three months before the breakup, but after revising, I changed it to six months. Unfortunately, I missed a part or two when I was changing the numbers. Just to clarify, they were together for six months. Sorry about that! Once again, thanks for the reads and reviews and please keep them coming! Suggestions are always welcome, well, unless they're flames because my ego can't take it!
Standard Disclaimers Apply
Chapter Eight
"You what?" Serena asked in wide-eyed disbelief.
Darien opened his mouth and quickly shut it again. Suddenly a look of extreme horror crossed his face and he bolted out of the room.
Serena followed closely behind him, "Darien? What's wrong?" She stopped abruptly at the bathroom door that slammed in her face. Pounding on the door, she called worriedly, "Are you okay?" No response. "Talk to me, Darien," she pleaded when she heard a gagging sound and nearly gagged as well as he emptied the contents of his stomach.
She opened the door to find a barely-conscious Darien leaning over the toilet.
His bloodshot eyes gazed up at her from his prone position on the floor. "Serena? I threw up." He said it just as a sick child would and she couldn't help but feel sorry for him.
Grimacing, she wet a washcloth and brought it over to him, gingerly cleaning his pallid face. "I can see that," she said quietly.
He moaned, "I don't feeeeel gooooood..." He shut his eyes and fell back against a mahogany cabinet.
"I know you don't feel well, Darien," she soothed, removing her pink and black suit jacket and matching heels. Raising herself up from her uncomfortable position on the floor, she looked at him worriedly. "Darien," she called, and he swung his head in her direction, "I have to run to the living room for a minute. Yell if you need me. I'll be right back."
The vacant look in his eyes indicated that he barely understood what she'd said. He grunted in response.
Shaking her head at her ridiculous predicament, she quickly ran to the living room where she rapidly slipped out of her confining black skirt and placed it over the couch with her jacket and shoes. Padding softly back to him in her camisole and slip, she took a seat on the large white rug in the middle of the floor where he sat in an entranced sort of way.
Coming out of his stupor, his glazed-over eyes rolled in her direction. "Guess what?" he asked, half-conscious.
She decided to humor him. "What?"
"I brought Beryl to make you jealous," he drawled.
Her eyes widened. "You did." It was more of a statement than a question. She thought back to the funeral; while Beryl was all over him, he barely responded. Things were finally starting to make sense.
He broke her out of her musings. "Well? Did it work?"
"Did what work?" she asked.
Rolling his eyes in annoyance, he muttered unintelligibly before answering. "Jealousy. Did I make you jealous?"
Taking pity on his drunken, prone form, she sighed. "Maybe. Maybe just a little. But it wasn't a nice thing to do, Darien." She chided herself when she realized that she was telling the truth; bringing Beryl did make her jealous.
His eyes watered and her heart broke. He moaned, "I know... I do a lot of bad things... maybe that's why people leave me..." he rambled on incoherently for a while before looking up at her again. "But you won't leave me, right? Please don't."
She couldn't help but think that he meant it in more ways than one. Letting him rest his head on her chest, she sat on the cold floor leaning against the glass shower, pushing dark strands of hair from his eyes. "Don't worry, Darien," she whispered, "I won't leave you."
Serena awoke to the steady pounding of rain in a dark, strange bedroom. The soft, comfortable bed wasn't the cold tile she'd fallen asleep on. Focusing her eyes as best she could, she looked around to find Darien's arm draped over her stomach. She tried to sit up but found it impossible so she attempted to remove his hand from her midsection. Suddenly, he murmured slightly and pulled her closer. Much closer. So close, in fact, that he ended up laying half on top of her. Despite the turmoil going on in her crushed internal organs, he continued to sleep peacefully.
For a brief moment, she scrutinized the quietly sleeping man. His hair was sticking out in all directions and an innocent, boyish expression was playing on his face. All in all, he looked quite adorable. From her view, it also looked like he was quite naked. A million thoughts ran through her head as she tried to collect herself. Did they... No, she decided, they hadn't slept together. He was far too sick for that. Suddenly he began to stir and she immediately shut her eyes.
Darien slowly sat up in bed, clutching his head. Surveying his surroundings, he found Serena sleeping soundly to his left. Carefully extricating himself from her, he got out of bed as quietly as possible so as not to wake her. Staring at her lovingly for a moment, he leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead and whispered, "I love you," ever so softly into her ear before walking out of the room.
As soon as she decided that he was a safe distance away, her eyes popped open in shock. She covered her mouth to suppress the squeal that rose up in her throat. So he was telling the truth the night before! It wasn't just an idiotic, drunken proclamation of love! She halted her exuberance when she realized that she was supposed to be through with him.
Frowning, she sat up and rubbed her sore neck. How was she supposed to act around him now? She slowly got up and contemplated her situation. The night before she'd seen a new side of Darien. She'd never seen him so angry or so... vulnerable. She couldn't help but think that there was more to him than she'd originally assumed. Deciding that her thoughts were far too deep to think about that early in the morning, she busied herself with finding the remainder of her clothes. Her mind was too thick with sleep to remember where she put the business suit that she'd worn the evening before. Blushing at her lack of clothing, she wandered out of the bedroom in search of her outfit.
A slightly sleepy voice snapped her out of her hunt. "Coffee?"
She looked up to find a steaming cup of coffee in her face. Looking beyond the cup, she found a shirtless Darien smiling slightly, looking weary as ever. Blushing, she nodded in response. "Yes, please." She took the cup from his hand, nearly dropping it when his hand brushed hers. Looking around confusedly, she searched for a clock but found none. "What time is it?"
"Two," he replied easily, walking over to the coffee pot and pouring himself a cup as well.
"In the afternoon?" she nearly shrieked.
When he flinched from the loud noise, she felt terrible and quieted. "Yes, in the afternoon," he said exasperatedly, "After last night, we needed the sleep."
She nodded silently and mindlessly stirred her coffee.
He nodded and looked at her amusedly. "You're cute when you're unaware."
Her eyes widened and she blushed. "Um... thanks..." she stammered in an embarrassed tone. He watched her for a moment and she became nervous under his penetrating gaze. "What?"
He tilted his head to the side, sleepiness slowly leaving his perfect features. "Why do you always do that?"
"Do what?" she asked confusedly.
"Whenever I give you a compliment," he began, "you look at me like I either grew an arm out of my head or like I'm a complete liar."
She glared defensively, "Well what do you expect? Thanks to you, I have zero self-confidence!"
"I said I was sorry!" he barked, then quieted. He sighed, frustrated. "I just don't understand you."
Putting down the cup of coffee, she angrily began to search for her skirt and jacket. "I don't recall ever asking you to understand me. And I suggest that you don't even try." She found her skirt and slipped it on. "I'm not some mystery for you to solve."
His eyes narrowed and he crossed his arms, "I was attempting to be conciliatory."
She rolled her eyes, "Oh, I think you were conciliatory enough last night."
To her surprise, his face fell and he looked away in shame. "Sorry about last night," he said softly, "I've been known to be a pain in the ass when I'm drunk."
Her brow furrowed, "Does that mean it's a regular occurrence?"
His cerulean eyes held the same naked, scared quality of the night before. "No... of course not... I'm just aware of the fact that when I do get drunk, I can be a handful."
She looked at him, bewildered. "Do you even remember what happened last night?" she asked.
He smirked and looked away. "Parts of it."
Picking up her jacket from the arm of the couch, she stared at him curiously. "Which parts?"
He sighed, "I remember getting wasted at a bar after seeing you with him, and then I remember you taking care of me when I got sick. I woke up in your lap a couple of hours ago and moved us to the bed."
"So you conveniently forgot our little conversation," she deadpanned in annoyance.
Smacking his forehead, he looked at her apologetically. "I probably said a lot of stupid shit last night. I'm sorry."
She shook her head and slipped on her jacket, "Don't worry about it. You've been known to say a lot of stupid shit when you're sober."
He grinned good-naturedly, "The insults just don't stop with you, do they?" When she didn't respond, he grew serious. "What the hell did I say to you to make you this upset?"
Serena finally looked up at his concerned face. How was she supposed to tell him? She sighed. "I'm not upset. Just... surprised."
His eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Why?"
She stared at him awkwardly before speaking. "You told me... well... um... I guess you kind of told me that you've been in love with me since you were eighteen," she blurted.
She watched raptly as he paled and a stricken look crossed his face. At that moment, he resembled a frightened rabbit and it seemed as though he was going to bolt at any moment. The room was silent with the exception of the steady rainfall beating against the windows. He stood there, rooted to the spot in embarrassment and fear. "I told you that?" he whispered.
"Well, yeah," she replied, feeling bad for him, "but let's not forget that you were completely plastered at the time."
He shook his head and gazed at her sadly. "It was true," he said in a defeated tone, "So I guess you can leave, since you're probably totally disgusted by now."
She approached him quietly and carefully. "No, Darien. I'd never feel that way. I won't leave unless you want me to."
Darien gave a melancholy smile, "Why bother staying? It's not like you feel the same way."
Her brow furrowed and she felt extremely miffed at his remark. "Don't assume that I don't care about you, Darien Shields!"
Thunder tore through the air in the background and she jumped. He stood still, seemingly unaffected. "Caring is just fine," he retorted coldly, "but do you love me? No, of course you don't. You're incapable of loving someone like me."
Her eyes flew to his face and narrowed, "Since when are you the authority on love? What makes you think that I don't love you?"
He laughed bitterly. "Let's see... you broke up with me when I told you that I loved you..." he drawled sarcastically.
"Okay," she cut him off, "Bad example. But I do care about you. In fact," she paused, "It think I even... I mean... I..." she stuttered. Her stomach rolled in nervousness. She just couldn't get those three little words out.
At her words, the bitter expression on his face melted away into one of hope. He moved closer to her and gave a tiny, encouraging smile. "You what?" he asked softly, bringing a hand up to her cheek.
The nauseating exposed feeling that had previously plagued her instantly disappeared as she looked into his eyes. She realized that he was everything she'd ever wanted and she'd sabotaged her own happiness for too long. Pride, she realized, had gotten her through tough times, but was she happy? No. Her face burned a brilliant shade of red, yet she spoke with confidence. "I love you, Darien," she confessed, a nervous smile playing on her lips.
A fraction of a second passed before he reached out and pulled her shaking body to his. "Say it again," he pleaded in an unsteady voice, holding onto her as though she might disappear.
"I love you," she repeated joyfully, entranced by the blissful look in Darien's eyes.
He pressed his lips to hers again and again, beaming all the while. "I love you too," he whispered between kisses. He nuzzled her collarbone, delighting in what he had missed. "God, I love you, Serena," he whispered once again before crushing his mouth to hers.
Several moments later they broke apart, taking in large breaths of air. Serena rested her forehead on his. "I missed you," she whispered affectionately, placing a tiny kiss on the tip of his nose. He scrunched his nose and she laughed in amusement. "You are the only person I know who has a ticklish nose."
He smirked, "My nose isn't the only thing that's ticklish... but that's another story for another time."
She raised an eyebrow, "Really? Where?"
"Somewhere in the realm of Darien Jr.," he responded, flashing a brilliant smile.
Grinning devilishly, she unwound her hands from behind his neck and slid them down his bare chest. "Darien Jr. and I really haven't gotten acquainted yet," she teased.
Catching both of her hands in his larger ones, Darien held them and looked at her lovingly. "Unfortunately, you won't get to meet him quite yet. I want to do this right. I plan to sweep you off your feet before you meet the big guy. So, as much as I want to, and believe me, I really really want to," he gazed at her appreciatively, "I'm going to wait."
A slow smile spread across her face. "I can respect that," she said amusedly. "I appreciate it, too. In all of my relationships, I don't think anyone has shown me as much respect as you just did."
"Well then," he drawled, "it looks like I have several men to beat up."
"Several?" she asked in astonishment, "Hardly."
He smiled contentedly and draped an arm over her shoulder. "Good. You know what? I have a great idea- how about we never mention past relationships ever again?"
She gazed at him thoughtfully. "That sounds like a brilliant idea. Deal," she shook his hand in agreement and began to giggle at his mock-serious expression.
"Excellent," he replied lightly, satisfaction apparent in his voice. He led her over to the couch where they sat comfortably. When he reached for the phone and she looked at him questioningly, he returned the look with a mischievous one. "Might I suggest room service and pay-per-view? The weather is crappy and I don't feel like going out. Consider this wooing 101."
She rested her head on his shoulder and looked up from the television with a satisfied smile on her face, "How romantic."
The departure time for Serena's flight came far too early the next day. They'd fallen asleep on the couch after watching a marathon of sappy romantic comedies that lasted until about three a.m.. She had to arrive at the airport at five in order to catch her seven o'clock flight and Darien wasn't helping. After sleepily shaking him awake, she'd tried to collect herself enough in order to go back to her own room but he wouldn't have it. He simply told her to "skip it" and then kept her...occupied for the next ten minutes.
Groaning, she fished for her room key in her purse. "I don't want to go..." she whined.
"Then don't," he said easily, taking her purse out of her hands.
She sighed, "I don't have much of a choice. See, us normal people have to fly on these things called airlines. We don't have private jets that can leave whenever we feel like it."
When she reached for the purse, he held it over her head and grinned. "Then you can just take the jet back with me," he suggested, as if it was the answer to all of her problems.
"Um... let me think... no." she said pensively, a scowl forming on her face, "If you'll remember correctly, you took Beryl's daddy's private jet and I really don't think you want the plane to become the scene of a homicide."
He raised an eyebrow, "Homicide?"
"That many hours in an enclosed space with Beryl the Wonder Whore? She'd be lucky if she had any hair left on that peroxide-abused head by the time I'd be done with her," she said sarcastically, "Pardon me if the idea isn't too appealing."
He gazed at her contemplatively for a moment before speaking. "You know what? You're right. That would be unbearable. In that case, I'll just have to fly back with you on one of the airlines," he supposed.
"Really? The high and mighty Darien Shields flying coach? I never thought I'd see the day," she retorted, grinning.
His nose was high in the air like a true aristocrat when he spoke, "I feel that it's important to see how the other half lives. You know, to keep me grounded." Her incessant giggling caused his smile to widen even further. "I'm curious, though; if Mr. Moneybags was paying for a room for you here, then why are you flying coach?"
A pang of guilt hit her as she remembered Allan and how she had more or less abandoned him. "Well, he insisted on paying for the hotel, so I insisted on paying for the plane ticket. And since I don't make a six-figure salary, coach was my best option."
He took note of the guilt in her eyes and shook his head. "Don't you start with the whole guilt trip. Allan is a big boy who can take care of himself. Besides, you're mine now and I won't have you off gallivanting with another man anyway. So, essentially, it's my fault and you have nothing to feel guilty about," he rationalized comically.
"I love it when you rationalize," she said warmly, kissing him on the cheek before she collected her things. "Why don't you meet me at my room in twenty minutes and we can leave from there?" She quickly gave him the room number and headed for the door.
He nodded in agreement and didn't let her leave before kissing her goodbye. Leaning against the doorframe, he watched her walk down the hallway to the elevator. "Don't go running off with a bellhop, now," he called teasingly, and grinned when he heard a muffled "Yeah, right" as the elevator doors closed.
Serena nearly floated back to her room, giggling like a schoolgirl while passerbys looked at her strangely. She didn't care, though; she was in love. Grinning from ear to ear, she walked to her door only to find an angry-looking Allan waiting there. Her eyes nearly popped out of her head at the sight of the fuming man.
"Allan," she greeted him awkwardly, opening the door and ushering him in, "What are you doing here?"
His usually gentle brown eyes glared at her accusingly. "Where were you all day yesterday? I called you six times! And why are you still wearing that outfit?"
She blushed. The situation really did look terrible. Before she even got a chance to answer, he started in again. "You were with him, weren't you?"
"Well, yes," she admitted, "But that's really my business," she said defensively, gathering the remainder of her clothing strewn about the floor. Just because he'd paid for her room didn't mean that it gave him the right to dictate who she spent time with. At the feral look in his eyes, she backed up a bit. "Listen," she started in a placating tone, "I'm sorry that I wasn't here for you during this difficult time, but I had some personal matters that I needed to tend to as well."
"The drunkard?" he spat venomously.
"He's not a drunkard," she shot back in Darien's defense.
"Who's not a drunkard?" a new voice entered the conversation. Darien stood in the still-open doorway.
Allan glared at him, "You."
Darien grinned and shrugged off the other man's glare, "Well that's good to know." He walked over to Serena, putting his hands on her shoulders, "You want me to help you pack? I've already called for my tickets and I'm all done packing."
Before she could say anything, Allan cut in. "I can't believe you'd be so stupid."
Both of them whipped around to face him. "Excuse me?" Serena asked, slightly taken aback.
"This man... if you can even call him that... has put you through hell for the past ten years of your life. He's cheated on you, used you, and basically ruined you. How could you be so stupid to go back to him again?" Allan finished, disgusted.
While Darien looked as though he was going to rip out Allan's throat at any given moment, Serena looked incredibly guilty. "You're right," she conceded, "he has put me through hell. But I've done some things that I'm not proud of as well. At this point, I'm just too tired to think about revenge and pride and... I just want to be happy..." she trailed off timidly. "He makes me happy..."
"Fine," Allan snapped coldly, "But you'll regret it." With that, he stalked out of the room, slamming the door.
"Well," Serena smiled lamely, looking up at her boyfriend whose face showed a mixture of anger, shock, and arrogance all at once. "I suppose that went well."
When they arrived at the airport, it was pouring in sheets of rain as thunder boomed overhead. Serena scowled at the sky as she stepped out of the taxi with Darien under a large black umbrella. "Does it ever not rain here?"
He smiled at her lovingly, "You've never really liked thunder, have you?"
She smirked, taking a small luggage bag, "Not liking it is an understatement. I'm terrified by it."
"Nothing to be afraid of, darling," he reassured her, "Don't you know that it's just angels bowling?"
Raising an eyebrow, she gazed at him in curiosity. "Angels bowling?"
His eyes took on a faraway expression as he spoke. "When I was little, I was afraid of thunder because I thought it meant that God was mad. But someone told me that it was actually the opposite. They told me that it was a party in heaven, and the sound of thunder is merely the sound of angels bowling."
She sighed happily and squeezed his arm affectionately. "That was so cute, Darien!" she cooed.
"Not too stupid?"
Shaking her head fiercely, she smiled reassuringly, "Of course not! Now every time it rains, I'll think of that and I'll smile!"
He looked at her contemplatively, putting an arm around her as they walked into the airport. "You know, I've never told anyone that before."
She snuggled deeper into his embrace. "Thank you, Darien."
By the time they boarded the plane, the torrential downpour had lessened to little more than a sprinkle, yet it did nothing to calm Serena's anxiety. Clutching Darien's arm for dear life, they searched for their seats in the back of the plane. She stiffly turned to a long-haired woman in uniform, "Stewardess? Can you tell me where 26A and B are?"
The person sharply turned around and glared. "Flight attendant, damn it! How many times must I tell people? We are not stewardesses! Flight attendant!"
Serena and Darien jumped back, terrified. "Sorry," Darien muttered before turning to Serena, "We'll find the seats ourselves."
They squeezed their way down the tiny aisle to their seats in the very back of the plane. Darien looked at the location and grimaced, "You want the window seat?"
She smiled apprehensively, "Thanks."
Just as they got settled, a little boy with slicked back blonde hair in a tuxedo climbed into the seat next to Darien. His mother, a portly woman wearing a camera around her neck, soon followed the overdressed child. She took a seat in the middle row, the aisle separating her from her son. As soon as the engine started, the child began to fidget and whine.
His mother looked at him worriedly, "What's wrong, Shane?"
"I WANTED THE WINDOW SEAT!" the child screamed obnoxiously.
Both Serena and Darien winced. Serena looked at the child with slight pity. "Do you want to switch places?" she asked, trying to appease the child.
His face contorted into a grimace. "No!" he wailed, "It has icky 'you' germs now!"
Serena's face held an expression of shock as the mother laughed. "Oh, don't worry about Shane, now," his mother drawled in a thick southern accent. "He just got back from the International Petite Gentleman's Pageant and he's used to the star treatment."
Shane looked at Serena and Darien haughtily. "I only deserve the best."
Darien leaned over to Serena and whispered, "What the child deserves is a time out."
Shane glared at Darien, got out of his seat, and kicked him squarely in the shin. When Darien screamed in pain, the devil child laughed hysterically. "I heard that, you poophead!"
Shane's mother giggled once again, "Calm down, baby," she turned to the horrified couple, "Shane got first place in the pageant and the Mr. Congeniality award."
While Serena and Darien looked on with mute interest, Shane stood on his seat proudly, "Everyone loves me."
Just as they were about to respond, the disgruntled "flight attendant" came over to their row. "Honey," she addressed the abhorrent little child sweetly, "The plane's about to take off and we want you to be safe, so if you'll please sit down in your seat and buckle up, we'll feel much better." When Shane complied, the seemingly docile flight attendant turned evil once again as she turned to Serena and Darien. "I see you found your seats," she said contemptuously, gazing at them venomously.
"Yes, thank you," Serena squeaked, more terrified than before.
The flight attendant stalked away as the intercom came on. "We hope you enjoy your flight with us," the cheery voice said, "The duration of the flight will be approximately seven hours and fifty minutes..." Darien looked at Serena, petrified. It was going to be a long flight.
Four extremely long hours later, Shane and Donna May, as they'd learned to call his mother, were still chatting away about his latest awards and accolades. Darien rubbed his temples while Serena resorted to banging her head against the small window in an attempt to knock herself out. She heard him chant, "Six more hours... six more hours..." and wanted to cry.
Suddenly Donna May stopped her chattering and held out her hands in surprise. "Baby, hold it right there! That is just the most adorable pose I have ever seen! I'm so glad I brought my camera and seven rolls of film!" With that, she began to snap photo after photo of Shane in the same position. "Hold on, baby," she said after a while, "I have to change the rolls of film."
Shane looked up at Darien who was now trying to block out the sound by turning up his headphones to the highest volume, but to no avail. "I'm adorable," he said obnoxiously, swinging his legs back and forth in his seat.
As Donna May rummaged through her ridiculously large carry-on bag, a cell phone fell out. She picked it up and squealed in delight, "Shane! We haven't called grandma yet! I don't care what time it is in the United States! She must know about our win!" Without further ado, she dialed up grandma and began talking excitedly about her son once again. After about fifteen minutes of incessant bragging, she nudged the pompous brat. "Baby, why don't you sing the song that won you the pageant? Grandma would love to hear it!"
Serena groaned quietly and leaned over to Darien, whispering agitatedly, "But we wouldn't!"
Shane unbuckled his seatbelt and grabbed the phone out of his mother's hands. "Grandma? I just did a wonderful job on my song! I got a ten point zero! Do you want to hear it? Of course you do!" he cleared his throat and Serena and Darien prayed for mercy. "And now, I'd like to do a little number I like to call 'Tomorrow.'"
His voice sounded suspiciously like a used car salesman and Serena groaned, "Good God, what have I done to deserve this?" She could have sworn she saw tears in Darien's eyes.
"The sun will come out..." he paused for effect, "tomorrow... bet your bottom dollar that..." he paused again, "tomorrow... there'll be sun..." Once again, he stood up on his chair so that everyone could see (and hear) him. After another horrible verse, he began to do hand (and face) motions. "When I'm stuck in a day that's gray, and lonely," he gave a sad face for these lyrics, "I just stick out my chin, and grin, and say, oh! TOMORROW!" pause, "TOMORROW!" another pause, "I love ya, tomorrow! You're only a day," pause, "a-" pause, "WAY!" he finished in an off-key note. When he finished, the entire crowd in coach stared at him, irritated.
It was deadly quiet with the exception of his mother's clapping. "That was beautiful, honey," she said, wiping away a tear. "Do that one that won you the Little Prince title."
Shane grinned, "I like to call this number 'Don't Rain on My Parade.'"
Darien really did start crying this time. "Make it stop," he moaned as Serena held him.
"Don't tell me not to fly--I've simply got to. If someone takes a spill, it's me and not you. Who told you you're allowed to rain on my PARAAAAAAAADE!"
"SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP YOU UNTALENTED LITTLE TROLL!" Darien screamed, reaching his limit. Everyone in coach stared at him in shock, and for some people, in thanks. He grabbed the phone from the stunned little boy's hand, "Hello, Grandma?" he greeted in rage, "I'd like to congratulate you for contributing genes to the most hideously annoying child that ever lived! Goodbye!" he handed the phone back to the child who still stood frozen.
Suddenly, the boy began to wail hysterically. At the dissonant sound, everyone groaned. The disgruntled flight attendant marched over to the boy. "What has that mean man done to you?" she asked sweetly, handing him a lollipop. She turned to Darien, putting her hands on her hips and giving him the look of death. "If you don't want to be arrested when you get off this plane, I suggest you be nice to this darling little boy."
Darien's eyes were wide with fear. "Yes, ma'am," he replied meekly, relieved when she stalked away. He looked over at Serena, "This is why I don't fly coach."
An hour later, lunch was being served on the flight from hell. The angry flight attendant practically threw the plastic containers on Serena and Darien's trays.
Serena lifted the lid off of the container and stared at the grayish, unidentifiable meat that sat on her plate. She grimaced and tried to get the attention of the flight attendant, "Excuse me, miss, but I ordered chicken..."
The woman didn't even turn around to look at her, "That is chicken," she said contemptuously, walking away.
Meanwhile, Darien was poking at his meatloaf with his fork. "It's like cement," he commented, grimacing.
Shane also was not happy with his meal of chicken nuggets that looked arguably better than the meatloaf or grilled chicken. Smacking Darien on the arm to get his attention, he scrunched up his face in disgust when Darien turned to face him.
"What now?"
"I don't like mine!" he wailed. "I want yours!"
When people were beginning to stare, Darien groaned, "Fine." He took the container and practically threw it on the boy's tray. Looking down at his new meal, he blushed: animal-shaped chicken nuggets and chocolate pudding with star-shaped sprinkles.
He looked over at Serena who was giggling quietly at his meal when he felt something wet and mushy hit his arm. He looked over to find mashed potatoes dripping down the arm of his Armani suit jacket with the little culprit looking positively devilish. Serena gasped and he looked at her, "Please restrain me from killing him."
She gave him a kiss on the cheek and helped him remove the stained jacket. "Poor baby," she said in sympathy as he put the jacket under the tray in barely controlled anger. "Don't worry; just a few more hours and we'll be home."
He smiled and kissed her softly on the lips but froze when he heard an obnoxious "Ewww!" in the background. At this point he also noticed that his jacket was missing from his lap. He turned around to find Shane rummaging through the pockets of his jacket.
When he pulled out a small black box, Darien's eyes widened in horror. "Give that to me!" Darien hissed, unable to reach the box as Shane slipped out of the seat and ran to his mother's lap.
With complete disregard for other people's property, Shane opened the tiny box. Serena watched in curiosity and Darien in dread as the little boy's jaw dropped. "Wow!" he squealed in excitement, taking a shiny object from the box, "It's so pretty!" The devil child walked over to Darien, "Can I keep it?"
Serena was confused at the horrified expression on Darien's face. Looking for the source of his reaction, she looked over to see what the child was holding. In a chubby hand lay a glittering diamond ring.
Snatching the ring from the child's hand, Darien shook his head furiously. "No, you may not!" He immediately looked at Serena, who had obviously seen what the child held.
Confusion whirled around her mind. "Was that..." she stopped, unable to finish. Was it meant for her? What if it wasn't? She groaned inwardly at the awkward situation.
He nodded in defeat. "Yes... it was. I'm sorry... I didn't want to do this here..." he muttered, almost to himself. She merely looked at him in confusion. "You deserve candles and roses and a fancy dinner on the beach... not this," he said regretfully.
Her brow furrowed, "What do you mean?"
"I... I mean that I didn't want to do this in a place full of people we don't know, with me covered in mashed potatoes in the back of a crappy plane." He took her hands, "I love you, you know that, right?"
She nodded fiercely, smiling, "I love you, too."
He smiled weakly and continued, "I know that I've done a lot of stupid things in the past. I've hurt you so many times, and you've still forgiven me. I know that I don't deserve you-"
She cut him off, "Don't say that!"
He shrugged, "It's true. I don't deserve you but God knows I have to have you. When I lost you, I felt like a part of me was gone... and I never want to feel that again."
Her eyes began to tear at his words and his face pinkened even more, "I'm sorry, this must sound so corny... I wanted to have this all planned..."
She shook her head and smiled through her tears, "No... it's perfect..."
He took a breath. "I love you, Serena. More than I've ever loved anyone or anything. I would get down on my knee if I could, but..." he held out the ring that glittered with promise and love, "Marry me?"
Not wasting a second, she launched herself into his arms, disregarding everything else around her. "Yes," she cried, tears of joy falling unheeded from her crystal blue eyes, "Yes, of course I'll marry you!"
END CHAPTER EIGHT
AN: Aren't you glad that I didn't leave you hanging? I was so tempted to leave it as a cliffhanger but since everyone was so patient with my last (and ridiculously long) update, I decided that you deserved that one extra paragraph. But come on people, did you really think she'd say no? I certainly wouldn't. Oh yes, I don't own both of the songs that Shane sung- I actually had to do research for this one by looking up the lyrics. I hope I didn't offend anyone with my stage mom- I just know someone like that and it's a fairly accurate representation. Well, I do believe that's it until next time darlings! Please keep reviewing and I'll try to update sooner this time!