Author: Meltha
Rating: PG
Feedback: Yes, thank you. Through Angel season 5.
Distribution: The Blackberry Patch and If you're interested, please let me know.
Summary: Fred is attempting to give Spike a corporeal body in season 5 of Angel, but things go extremely wrong… or is it extremely right?
Author's Note: Written for Eurydice 72's Williamficathon. The request was from tobywolf13 who requested Fred/William, no more than an R, a comedic/fluffy romance, time travel, Texas barbeque, and horseback riding Western style, with no character death, graphic sex, or slash. The fic sort of ran away from me and wound up being several short sections long.
Disclaimer: All characters are owned by Mutant Enemy (Joss Whedon), a wonderfully creative company whose characters I have borrowed for a completely profit-free flight of fancy. Kindly do not sue me, please, as I am terrified of you. Thank you.
Out of the Blue
Part 5
The weeks until the opening of the school passed very quickly. Fred had to remember when preparing lesson plans that she couldn't teach anything that hadn't been discovered yet, so she need to do "reverse research," as she called it: looking over the textbooks to see what wasn't in them. William tactfully pointed out that the young girls who would be coming to classes more than likely would need to learn basic arithmetic first, and Fred agreed, but she had high hopes of establishing an advanced program for any girls who had a natural gift for the subject. The zest that Fred had for the school was only matched by William's equal enthusiasm for the job of teaching reading, writing, grammar, spelling, and literature. The two were very well matched indeed, Anne thought with a smile, hoping that Fred's dilemma would reach a happy conclusion for them all.
When the doors to the school finally opened, there was little fanfare. The building was little more than a shack, and all classes were conducted in the same room. The girls were crammed into tiny rows of chairs, often sharing textbooks and slates, but they were so eager for learning that they practically hummed with excitement. Fred recognized the little beggar girl William had given a coin to on her first day sitting in one of the front rows, clutching a slate pencil as though it were made of diamond.
Coming home that night, though, was another matter entirely. As William and Fred walked back to the Gordon house, they exchanged looks.
"How did yours turn out?" Fred asked finally.
"A few knew letters, but most haven't the vaguest idea of how to read or write, even the older students," William admitted. "This is going to be uphill work. How did it go with you?"
"Pretty much the same thing," Fred said. "Most of them can count and recognize numbers, and a few of the older ones can add and subtract some smaller numbers, but that's it."
"I do believe it will be a while before we are covering Milton and chemistry," William said.
"But we'll get there," Fred said, taking his arm soothingly. "Everybody's got to start somewhere, right?"
"Right," William agreed, but his tone was a bit nervous.
William and Fred continued teaching at the school during the week and taking outings in the park on their Saturdays, and their feelings for one another continued to grow, but Fred was still thinking about the possibility of going home. At night, she would sometimes stay up well past midnight, scrawling theorems and equations on scraps of paper, barely restraining herself from writing on the walls. Anne would sometimes see the glow of her candle coming underneath her door, and she would hope her instincts were right.
By the time November came around, both William and Fred could see real progress happening at the school, and the work before them seemed much less bleak. The results were starting to be noticed, as well. Another Ladies' Aid group had heard of their school and had sent a representative to see how things were managed. Her report must have been very good indeed, for the group held a charity rummage sale for the school, which allowed them to purchase more textbooks and supplies. The salaries for the teachers, who still numbered only two, were quite low, but Fred and William combined were able to improve the Gordon household considerably. But Fred was saving up for one particular surprise.
Of course, Thanksgiving wasn't celebrated in England, but Fred still decided to mark the holiday in her own way. She waited until the Saturday after when the day would normally have occurred to hold their feast since she wanted both William and her to have the full day off. When the morning came, she was dressed and out the door well before sunrise, running to the nearby butcher's. He seemed a bit surprised at her request, but he gave her exactly what she asked for. After several other stops to buy spices and a few other necessary ingredients, Fred had everything she needed. Though she had spent almost every penny she'd saved, she found herself smiling all the way home.
By the time she opened the door, the sun was up, and William and his mother were both extremely curious as to what she was up to.
"You'll see," Fred replied, grabbing a piece of buttered bread and beginning her preparations.
"Um, Fred," William said delicately, "you're not, well, going to try to… cook… something, are you?"
Fred laughed at him, then gave him a wink. "There's cooking, and then there's barbeque," she said firmly. "And any Texan girl worth her salt can barbeque."
"Barbeque?" William asked.
"Old American tradition. Well, sorta. See, my momma wasn't really all that great a cook either, and on her first Thanksgiving with daddy, the turkey she was trying to make accidentally blew up," Fred explained. "Talk about a mess. She got all upset, but daddy said that he liked spare ribs better than turkey any day of the year, so he set up the barbeque out on the desk and they grilled dinner. They had barbeque instead of turkey every Thanksgiving after that, so it's what I grew up on."
"Charming story," William said, "but I don't believe I've ever, ehm, heard of barbeque before."
"Oh, it's just takin' a big old hunk of meat, soakin' it in barbeque sauce, and setting it to cook on an open grill," Fred said off-handedly. "The secret is getting a good sauce, and I happen to have the best recipe on the planet, but, as is always the case with great chefs, it's secret, so you two just scoot!"
William and Anne were summarily ejected from the kitchen with a flick of an apron. The mother and son exchanged a look.
"Son," Anne said with a note of humor in her voice, "perhaps we'd best write down whom the family belongings will go to in case we all should perish suddenly for some reason."
William looked skyward, but did glance rather nervously at the kitchen.
An hour later, Fred allowed them back into the kitchen. The ribs were covered in a thick reddish paste, and more of it sat in a bowl on the counter.
"Now all I have to do is set up the grill," Fred said with a grin. "I dug a little fire pit in the backyard yesterday, and this little piece of iron grillwork I bought from the blacksmith this morning aught to do just fine. William, will you get some firewood and matches ready?"
"Of course," William agreed, still rather wary. True, street merchants cooked chestnuts and the like in the open, and he'd seen some of the homeless of London toasting bits of meat over open flames they used to warm themselves, but, what was it Fred called them? Spare ribs?
Fred oversaw the making of the fire, William explaining that he didn't like the idea of stray, windblown spark near her skirts. Once the fire was lit, though, Fred watched the wood carefully until she was certain that they had reached just the right temperature. Then, with great ceremony, she lowered the ribs onto the grill. A pleasant hissing rang through the air, and she nodded in satisfaction.
"This'll take a little while," she said.
At that moment, Anne began to cough. "I'm sorry," she said, "but I'm afraid the weather is rather cold for my constitution. Please, you young people stay outside and enjoy the fire, but I feel I should go indoors."
"Are you certain I shouldn't go with you, Mother?" William asked, concerned.
"No, no," said Anne quickly. "I'll be just fine."
It was remarkable how quickly her cough disappeared as soon as she was inside the door.
Fred had pulled over a rough bench and sat down before the fire, keeping careful watch over her ribs and occasionally basting them with the remaining sauce. William soon joined her. The size of the bench was so small that there was very little room, and they were obliged to sit quite close to one another. As had become his habit, he immediately took her hands in his own, gently rubbing her fingers as they spoke. They talked about the ordinary, everyday things of their lives: the school, the neighbors, their Saturday outings, but always in the gentle voices and with the ever-present smiles of those in love at their best moments.
It didn't take long for their talk to become interspersed with brief kisses, increasing in frequency until it was more a case of their kisses being interspersed with brief sentences. At last, after the ribs had been dutifully turned and basted once more, they abandoned words altogether and allowed themselves long, lingering kisses, accompanied by soft caresses, though, Fred was rather frustrated to admit, always with absolute, total propriety.
Finally, William drew back a bit, and Fred saw him fumbling awkwardly at his inner jacket pocket. His fingers closed around what he was looking for, and he blushed endearingly, biting his lip.
"What's up?" Fred asked curiously.
He took a deep breath, and the next thing she knew, he was on one knee in front of her, holding up a ring that sparkled with a small diamond.
"I've written this proposal a thousand times," he said, stuttering slightly, "but every one came out wrong, so I'll simply say what's in my heart. I love you, Fred. I've never known anyone else like you. You're kind and intelligent. You make me laugh, and you when tears come into your eyes, I want to cry with you. I live for the times during the day when I see you, speak with you, hear what your day has been like. I know this is sudden, I know we've known each other only a few months, and I know your other life still calls to you. But I want you to know that I would be the happiest man alive if you would be my wife. I'll wait for you as long as you need to be certain, but if you give me your hand, I swear to you that I would cherish you every day of our lives."
Fred sat, staring, open-mouthed.
"Um… so will you? Be my wife, I mean," William added quickly.
Fred didn't move for several long moments, and the shifting light of the fire seemed to cloud her expression. Her gaze was very far away. Then, slowly, she got to her feet and walked into the house.
William stood with a stunned expression on his face. Had his words been that horrible? Had he pressed to soon? Had he broken everything they had together with his impatience? An eternity seemed to pass, but in fact it was less than two minutes before Fred re-emerged through the door, clutching a sheaf of papers.
"These are my plans for different ways to go back to my own time," she told him, her voice slightly strained.
"Of course," William said, his heart already having fallen into his shoes. "I understand…"
But Fred moved to the fire and very deliberately added them to the kindling under the grill, watching them disappear in a puff of smoke.
"I love you, William," she finally said as the last of the papers turned into ashes. "You're the one who means home to me now. I'll always love my family and my friends, but if it's a choice between you and them, I choose to be with you."
William's eyes went back and forth between the grill and Fred several times as he tried to process what she was saying.
"That's a yes, you silly man!" Fred said, realizing a translation was in order.
"Yes?" he asked. "You… you said yes?"
"Yeees," Fred repeated, carefully enunciating the word.
"You… you said yes," William repeated, absolutely beaming. "You said yes!"
With that, Fred found herself picked up in two incredibly strong arms and swung in a circle through the air.
"Did you hear that London!" William screamed at the top of his lungs. "We're to be married! You hear me!"
"I heard you!" yelled the neighbor from the other side of the garden wall. "Now pipe down and kiss the girl!"
Fred and William exploded into fits of laughter at this, and the next thing Fred knew, she was being well and soundly kissed, with more passion than she had ever felt before. It left her completely breathless and weak in the knees, coming up for air only long enough to press their foreheads together and pant for a moment before they both decided that was entirely too much time and distance for one another and they resumed their kiss with renewed fervor.
Only the ribs nearly bursting into flame stopped them from practically passing out from lack of oxygen.
"My ribs!" Fred cried.
"I'm sorry, love," William apologized. "Am I holding you too tightly?"
"What? No, not my ribs! Those ribs!" she said pointing to the smoking meat and just managing to spear them from the flames before it was too late.
Half-curled against each other, they carried the plate of ribs into the kitchen, smiling like they had both gone more than a little mad. Anne took one look at them and immediately laughed.
"And when have you set the date?" she asked.
Fred and William looked at one another and laughed loudly and long, the sort of laugh that warms the heart and soul for days and weeks, even years on end.
