Nothing Changes like Time
Chapter 6
A/N: wow—thanks so much for all the reviews. Sam: really? Wuthering Heights is your favourite book? Lol, what are the chances?! Lol...you like Cameron huh? Ha! That's so funny...I have to admit I'm a bit like Cameron myself...like this guy who works in my mums office, Stuart...anyway, where was I? Boschette: I'm glad you liked the last bit...I know, how catty was Jack? But I think I needed to...and it was fun! Dahoodilie: I already had written the part when Gareth comes to Capeside. Fret not; I'll try to put more emotion in this time. How does that sound?
Doug woke to the sound of the veranda door being opened slowly. He glanced at his bedside table 1:37. He sat up in bed and turned on his bedside lamp. There was now shuffling in the kitchen, Doug threw on his dressing gown and wandered out of their room and into the kitchen/dining area and saw Jack sitting at the table, eating a tub of yoghurt.
He looked up when Doug entered. "Hey there," he said softly, almost a whisper.
Doug sat down opposite Jack and pulled his gown tighter around his body. "Hi," he said, equally as soft, the sound of a restless sleep echoing in his voice.
"Did I wake you?" Jack asked taking in Doug's appearance.
"I wasn't sleeping well anyway," he answered. "You know what I'm like when I'm worried."
Jack played with the rest of his yoghurt and set it down, unable to finish it. "I'm sorry."
"There's no need to be sorry," Doug said, looking up, "You're absolutely right. I'm not family, and I never will be. You really have no obligation to me whatsoever. You have no obligation to answer my questions or put up with me hassling you."
Jack reached his hand over the table, indicating that Doug give his hand over. He did and Jack entwined their fingers. "I like your questions, I like you hassling me," he said tenderly. "I love you, but you've got to trust me. I'm not going to leave you, and even if you don't think so, I do have an obligation to you, as I hope you have to me," he paused and rubbed Doug's hand with his thumb. "Family or not."
Doug's eyes clouded over and he and Jack stood up, enveloping each other, their arms around the other tightly, Doug holding onto Jack for dear life, Jack holding onto Doug. They pulled apart and Doug rested his hands on either side of Jack's face, pressing their foreheads together, Jack's hands resting on the small of Doug's back. "I love you Jack," he whispered and leaned down slightly, taking Jack's lips in his own, moving slowly against them, feeling Jack's arms tighten around his waist.
"Why don't we get some sleep," Doug mumbled against Jack's mouth before nipping his bottom lip lightly, sending shivers down Jack's body. He nodded and Doug led him to their bedroom and helped him get undressed and into his pyjama pants and a tight fitting Bonds t-shirt.
"Doug," Jack whispered in the dark when they were both settled in bed, arms draped over each other.
"Yeah baby?" Doug answered, kissing his neck lightly.
"I'm sorry."
"So am I."
"I love you Doug."
"I love you Jack."
"So did you all do your reading over the weekend like I told you to?" Jack asked as he burst into the classroom of rowdy 16 year olds, throwing his briefcase onto his desk and pulled out a pile of papers.
"Settle down!" he called out and they all found their seats. "I've got your..." he trailed off and looked at what he had in his hands. "No I don't," he went back to his desk and pulled out another pile, checked them and walked to hand them out.
"I've got your poetry appraisals, here...Matthew! Is there a moment when you're not gazing out the window?" he yelled. "Focus this way for a change boy! Cameron...Jason...Michael...Sam...Gina..."
When he finished handing them out, he returned to his desk and fumbled around, looking for something. The class, who was previously silent, muttered to each other softly and exchanged looks of disbelief. Bad day for Mr McPhee?
"Open your poetry books to the War section," he said and everyone did as they were told. "This was put on my desk today and I was told its being included on the syllabus for this semester," he continued. "Poetry on the World Wars, I don't care if you don't care, I don't care if you've got to much homework, we're going to finish this quickly and get it over with because we've got so much to cover."
There was a shuffling as the students got paper out, hoping not to get in the way of Jack's evident line of fire. He walked to the white board and began to write up notes and there was a humming noise, faint, Jack knew what it was.
"Just because I have my back turned, doesn't make me deaf," he said harshly, turning around to glare at his class.
He caught sight of Cameron, doodling away on a scrap piece of paper. He looked again. He was right, a note. Not in Jack McPhee's class, not today.
He walked straight to her and stopped at the front of her desk, peering down at her.
"Finished Ms Andrews?" he asked quietly. She looked up and put the piece of paper away.
"No sir," she said innocently. "I was just—"
"Hand it over," he said seriously, holding out his hand. "I don't care what it is or what you're doing, give it to me."
She didn't move and the whole class looked on. McPhee picking on his favourite student? No way...
"Cameron," he said. "Don't test my patience. Give it over to me now."
Jack's gaze met hers, she didn't move.
"You have a detention after school today, I'll be calling your mother at recess to notify her of the change in time in which you have to be picked up," he said softly and went back to the white board and continued writing up notes as the class sat dumbstruck.
Jack walked into his classroom after the end of school bell sounded and found Cameron Andrews already seated in the front row, right in front of his desk. She glanced up at him, and then looked down.
"Your mother was none to happy when I called her," Jack said sternly, throwing down a stack of correction on his desk. "And neither was Doug when I told him I couldn't get there in time to pick Amy up. He's sick of doing it because of the insolent students at this infernal school..."
"I'm sorry."
Jack shook his head. "No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let you get away with so much in the past," he paused, "both in school hours and out."
She was quiet. "Shall I get started?"
"No, we're going to talk about this."
"there's nothing to talk about here," she said and reached for her school bag.
"I think there is," he said and pulled the bag out of her reach. "Firstly, one of Capeside's better students has landed her first detention, for note passing of some description..."
"I wasn't going to pass it on."
"That's not the point Cameron," he said sternly. He held her gaze and sighed. "I have no idea why I can't do this," he muttered.
"Can't do what?" she asked.
"Be mad at you because I've had a shit day—"he stopped quickly. "Sorry," he said. "First rules of teaching and I broke them."
Cameron laughed and played with a lock of her hair. "What rules would that be?"
Jack looked around and smiled. "Picking favourites and swearing in front of students."
She gazed at him and her heart missed a beat. Favourite? She must have had the biggest giddy grin on her face because Jack laughed.
"Huh?"
"I was going to say the same thing, looks like you could rival the Colgate Ads with those pearly whites."
Cameron blushed and looked down before sneaking a furtive glance at her teacher as he returned to his desk.
"You're not supposed to endorse her," Doug chided as he was folding the washing while Jack was telling the story. "She's a needy girl who is overly interested in our lives"
"Dougie, come on, she's alright."
"Hmm...I know, its just...don't give unnecessary detentions out again, because I mightn't be able to pick up Amy so often," he looked down at Jack and tried a half smile before he took a more serious note. "It's too difficult and inappropriate for me to take her back to the station."
"I know," he said. "It's not going to happen again. It's...it's not just Cameron, it's my students..."
"And this is our family, this is our washing and that is our child."
Jack opened his mouth to retaliate, but he just sighed and collapsed into the couch. "Sounds like you had a shit day too."
"Well, I hardly had the energy, someone kept me up all night," he said softly and smiled at Jack.
Doug finished up and sat next to Jack on the couch. Jack swung his legs over Doug's lap and smiled innocently, wriggling his toes. Doug chuckled. "I'm not rubbing your feet."
"That's what you think," Jack said and leaned in, kissing Doug's lips lightly.
"With an offer like that...how could I refuse?"
"You can't, that's why I offered."
"That's not the only reason why," he murmured as he warmed Jack's feet.
Jack moaned quietly and nuzzled down into the pillows. "Oh, what's the other reason?"
"I can't refuse you."
Jack smiled. "Come here," he whispered and held his arms out to Doug, who dropped his feet and lay down next to Jack, letting his lover wrap his arms around him.
The phone rang and Jack and Doug opened their eyes to look at each other. Doug leaned over Jack and picked up the phone and put it straight back on the receiver.
"Is that ok?"
"Of course it is. I don't want to speak to anyone. Unless of course it's you."
The sound of a car.
Tobey got up from the kitchen table where he was checking over the ads that were to go out to the newspapers the next day, and wandered over to the window.
A red car
Shit
A red Peugeot
Double shit
Footsteps –business shoes
Triple shit
A knock at the door
Fuck
He walked to the door.
"Nice day huh?" Tobey said caustically. Gareth pushed inside, Tobey closed the door. Gareth sat down on one of the couches in the living room and closed his eyes. He looked flustered; his shirt was creased, his sleeves rolled up, the top two buttons undone. His orange silk tie was knotted low around his neck and the usually neat iron lines down the middle of his pant legs were hardly noticeable.
Tobey sat on the coffee table in front of his slouched husband. Gareth opened his eyes. Bright blue stood out strongly against his black ruffled hair. He was scruffy looking and his stubble had been around for nearly two days.
"Do you want a drink?"
"Do you think I came here for a drink?"
Tobey couldn't help but smile.
"Unless you didn't know Barrett, I'm here for you," he said, not unkindly.
There was a silence and Tobey got up from the coffee table. Gareth watched him walk across the other side of the room. "Where are you going?" he asked softly.
"What does it matter? You'll follow me anyway."
"Too right," he said almost inaudibly, and closed his eyes again before he heard something shatter and snapped them open and followed the sound into the kitchen.
Tobey was staring out the window, facing away from Gareth. A glass lay in tiny shards in front of the fridge. Gareth took cautious steps in.
"How could you?" Tobey asked sounding short of breath. He turned and looked at Gareth intently, his blazing blue eyes boring into Gareth's.
"I—I—Tobey, I don't know," he pleaded, throwing off his tie.
"How could you?" Tobey asked, furious. He launched himself at Gareth, pushing him against the wall, hitting him, trying to push him around. Gareth got hold of his hands and pried his husband off him. "How could you?" Tobey asked again, whimpering. "I loved you, I love you and you were fucking someone else."
He stopped his struggle and slid down before he collapsed in a heap on the ground at Gareth's feet. Gareth squat down next to him and ran a hand through Tobey's golden hair.
"I didn't love him, I don't love him, I love you. He was nothing to me—"
"Then why'd you do it?" Tobey rasped and clutched at his chest, willing the pain to go away.
Gareth slipped one arm around Tobey's legs and the other under his back and hoisted him up and carried him to the couch and laid him down.
"I hate you," Tobey whispered and flung his glasses onto the coffee table. "I hate you for...for..."
Gareth said nothing and waited for Tobey to find his words.
"...for coming here. For making me come here," he paused and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. "I hate you for leaving me no choice but to come here."
"I hate myself for more reasons than that."
"Self pity isn't flattering on anyone," Tobey sneered and sniffed.
"It's not pity. It's more...self-deprecation."
Gareth pulled an arms chair in front of the couch and sat down, squeezing the bridge of his nose in contemplation.
"I fucked up—"
"No one's denying that."
"Will you let me finish?"
"I don't think you need to say anything. Your actions made your position very clear."
"Which ones?" Gareth asked mockingly. "Fucking around or coming after you?"
Tobey paused and blinked hard. "You stopping your little trysts only when I found out," he stared hard at Gareth. "That's what I'm so angry about, the knowledge that you would have continued your rendezvous with said man if I hadn't known. And that sucks."
Tobey sat up on the couch and put his glasses back on after wiping them with the bottom on his jumper. "Am I unlovable?"
"No," Gareth said, taken a back. "I can't believe you asked that. Of course you are—"
"Then why? Was it my job? The late hours? You finally agreed with your family and started to dislike me too? Was it because I forgot to put flour in your birthday cake? Why? Gareth, tell me"
He stared down at his feet and looked at Tobey's naked eyes. "All of the above? ...oh shit, I don't know. But it had nothing to do with my family; things to do with us never have been and never will be," he sighed and rested his head on his hand. "It was a distraction; there was nothing between us except sex."
"That's enough, especially since its driven us to this" Tobey said quietly.
"I'm sorry."
"What for?"
"For hurting you, for hurting us."
"Do you want me to forgive you?"
Gareth looked down and pulled his shirt straight, hoping to get rid of some of the creases.
"Well?"
"Well of course I do. I love you, and I hope that the feeling is reciprocated."
Tobey pushed a hand through his hair.
"You haven't given me time."
"I gave you a week."
"That's not long enough. I've had other things to do."
"You brought your work here?"
"It was e-mailed to me."
"How have the last ads been responded to?"
"They were good. The next wave of the campaign will be better."
They looked at each other and forgot for a moment that there was a rift between them.
"Where are you staying?"
"I don't know. Suggest any good places?"
"Not anywhere that'll stop you getting pneumonia."
"Right."
"You drove here?"
"I had to. I have to save up for our trip back, together."
Tobey stood up and Gareth did too. Tobey turned, but Gareth grabbed his arm and pulled Tobey to him, holding his closed. Tobey tightened in Gareth's arms but eventually relaxed, holding his husband against him in return. He pulled out of the embrace slowly.
"You can stay here, in my sister's bedroom."
"Are you sure?"
"Well, no, but it means I can keep yelling at you from the moment I wake up. Go get your bags from the car."
A/N: so...what do you think?
Cheers,
Phoenix