Within the characteristic atmosphere of Bill's Oriental garden with the fountains and exotic plants stood Aiyana. Her slender form was adorned with a pair of dusty blue sweat pants, matching tank top, and a pair of white sneakers. Her sun-kissed toned skin was already layered with a sheet of sweat and her chest heaved at a recovering rate.
For the past hour she had been training with Bill. It had mostly been sharpening her hand to hand combat, and he had shown her some awesome kung fu moves that she usually wouldn't think to use or learn for combat. Either way, she was enthusiastic to learn new things. Her only regret was that when Bill chose to 'demonstrate' the move for her…that usually led to her being the 'prop'.
Well, so far so good and Aiyana was catching on quickly; as had been stated in her interview she was a fast and tactful learner.
Bill slowly and silently strolled around on the cobblestones of the courtyard; subconsciously or not, circling the young brunette as they both took an agreed upon a moment to catch their breath before returning to the afternoon's training session.
While Aiyana had certainly broken out in a sweat, Bill was only showing minor signs of exertion, betrayed by the slight gleam on his high forehead and the somewhat unnatural clinging of the classic goldish/brown silk Chinese kung fu shirt he was wearing. Along with the loose black slacks, long hair blowing in the afternoon breeze and bare feet, he was appearing as typical Bill completely in his element.
Of course, Aiyana had broken far more of a sweat because; thus far she'd played the attacker for the most part. Bill's personal kung fu fighting style involved quite allot of holds and throwing; something Aiyana was quickly figuring out. Being the 'attacker' for Bill was not exactly a pleasant experience, as any of his trainees would tell you, but so far Aiyana was holding her own very well. One complaint, whimper or tear from her...and Bill would have taken full advantage of it and doubled his brutal efforts to fully break her. Luckily, Aiyana was made of tougher stuff.
Finally, ending his prowl, Bill stopped a few feet in front of Aiyana. He leveled a sharp look at her; looking deathly serious. "Alright, Miss Espona...let's take somewhat of a break from hand to hand for a moment shall we. You have some work to do in that category, but I feel your competent enough that we can move on for now."
He turned and strolled over to the rack of training swords, the one in front of the storage shed, and removed a wooden broadsword. "This," he turned back to her, sword in hand, "...is a typical Wu Shu blade...it's a broadsword, Chinese in origin." He raised a brow, "The actual bladed version is far more beautiful of course, but...we'll start with wood for now." He tossed the training blade at her, which was caught with expertise.
Turning back to the sword rack, he removed an identical wooden broadsword, "Personally, I prefer the Japanese katana to the Chinese broadsword, but...the katana is much more challenging in my opinion. So," he once again faced her, sword in hand, "...we'll start with this...and then move onto the katana."
Bill held the sword out in front of him with one hand, "This weapon tends to be used one handed…although two can be used, and is traditionally used along with kung fu striking techniques. Thus," he took a step towards her, spinning the handle in his hand, "...I want you to throw in some of those things I just showed you as you use the sword. And," a smirk touched his face, "...while, I will attack you fairly slowly...I will give you a heads up," he leveled the tip of the blade at her, looking intensely down the blade, "...I am equally left handed as I am right."
With that, he took a quick and brutal swing at her head.
That wasn't a heads up, it was more of a heads down but Aiyana managed not to get herself whacked in the head with a wooden sword. She popped back up and countered Bill's attack with a block. Bill broke out of the block and came at her with skillful batch of basic swings which if they were real would have been directed for mutilating various body parts. The brunette dodged most of these and clashed swords a few times.
She wasn't completely untrained, and knew the basics when it came too sword play but she was far from proficient. During the course of their training introduction Aiyana tended to use both hands even though Bill specifically told her this sword often required only one hand. It was a horrible trait brought on by seeing too many cheesy-American sword fighting flicks. Well, this was fixed by a few hard whacks to her knuckles and she eventually caught on or got sick of the red stinging pain that was clashing with her sun glossed skin tone.
All in all she wasn't doing terribly for a first time training session.
Bill gave Aiyana's knuckles one last whack as she accidentally put her other hand on the hilt of the sword again. He would keep doing that until they bled to the bone if he had to...but luckily for her she was catching onto the mistake and doing it far less frequently.
"Chinese sword, Miss Espona," Bill said with staccato between intakes of breath, "Not Japanese sword." He emphasized this with another whack on her knuckles, even though she was using the weapon properly at the moment.
Looking intensely ferocious, Bill took a sidestep around her and seamlessly switched his sword hand from right to left...making his first point finally relevant. "Heads up Miss Espona," he said; the mere tone of his voice betraying the fact that he was currently smirking. The sneaky maneuver gave him a wide opportunity, and...as Bill always did, he took advantage of it.
Using the wide flat side of the wooden blade he smacked her right on the side of the head, bringing the blade around he then gave the back of her knees a similar strike. This had a tendency to make people drop to their knees, and when Aiyana lost to gravity and naturally did this, Bill stepped on the back of her left calf with a strongly gripping bare foot; pinning her down in that position.
"Now," he breathed, catching his breath, as he looked down at her with sadistic amusement, "...this would be the opportune moment to use the sword two handed." He raised a brow, "Decapitation, Miss Espona," he hefted the weapon two handed, "….don't underestimate it's effectiveness." His smirk widened, "Heads off..."
Of course, Bill was being coy, a smart ass. He was fucking around with her...mainly to get a rise out of her, to see what her limits were. He found anger in battle to be a potent but often double edged sword; pardon the pun. She could physically fight just fine, but was she mentally there? That was the question of the moment.
Aiyana was down on her knees with hands clenched tight on the handle of her wooden sword that had done little to aid her in avoiding her current situation. She learned a few potent lessons in those few minutes. One; Bill was a cruel and highly unfair teacher. Second; he was a bastard, but she had heard rumors of that as it went along with Bill's infamous reputation. Third; she fucking hated using a sword, she always had. It was far from her weapon of choice.
Now, Aiyana was a very well put together killer. She had been on numerous lone-ranger assignments that required deadly accuracy too survive. She may not have been as put together or 'born' to kill as some killers but she enjoyed her profession, performed well, and was content with her life style. There wasn't much else to keep a killer mentally stable. Thus, Bill's attempt at decapitating the brunette didn't work.
With her own sword in both hands she swung it around to connect to his side in a harsh thawp. This made the man stumble and gave her enough time to bring her leg out and trip him the rest of the way to the ground. She quickly jumped too her feet and positioned the point of the wooden blade near his jugular vein. Her expression fierce and flushed but she was a mute; not one to give smart ass or witty remarks.
Bill's frown slowly turned into a wide, amused and typically brash grin as he squinted up at the brunette. The tip of her wooden blade was still pressed up against his jugular; perhaps the ultimate killing point. "Much better," he said, not without some genuine flattery, still smiling. "And then you might ask yourself, how would I get out of this perilous position?" He continued with a touch of dramatic flair in his voice. He paused, the smile dropping, "I don't...I'm dead." He stared at her intensely for a few long seconds and then rolled out from underneath the weapon.
Standing up, and brushing himself off, he motioned to the sword in Aiyana's hand, "Here...give me that," he took the practice weapon and along with his own put them back into the rack.
Very well. Miss Espona was proving she could handle a few cheesy taunts. She was staying calm under pressure and relentless unfair treatment on his part. He'd talked down to her, and she was keeping cool...he'd put her in a fairly compromising and demeaning position and she'd gotten out of it. So far so good. He wasn't doing any of these things by happenstance. He knew her credentials, and now...put to the test, she was proving their presence rather well.
Bill surveyed the sword rack with a frown, "I don't know about you Miss Espona," he murmured as he continued to scrutinize the weapons, "But, I'm feeling a little on the risky side of things today," a comment that was actually pretty amusing coming from Bill...at least, he thought it was amusing. With that, he yanked out two bladed katanas from the rack. Duel high pitched rings echoed throughout the courtyard.
He brought them over to her, eyes downcast on the weapons, "These aren't fully sharpened, nor are they even remotely close to the craftsmanship of a Hanzo sword," of course, Aiyana knew of the infamous sword maker, "...but..," he hefted them, one in each hand, "...they are still Japanese steel..." He regarded the duel slightly curved blades for a long moment; obviously a man who was into his swords. They looked virtually identical, which in fact they were, despite different tooling styles on the handles.
Eyes falling back on the brunette, Bill handed her one of the swords, handle first. He then took a step back, getting a good two handed grip on the sword he'd left for himself. Bill could tell, just by weight of the sword, that this was no Hanzo blade. It was somewhat annoying, but he wasn't ready to have Aiyana go up against a Hanzo blade. All in due time.
"Alright Miss Espona," he regarded her, blade in front of his face, "...slow methodic movements at first. And, my first rule...a blade doesn't mean a goddamn thing without good footwork..." He vaguely remembered telling Beatrix the exact same thing...five years ago.
Blinking away that memory, he took a quick step towards the brunette.
Aiyana regarded the blade in hand with hesitation. When he had inclined he wanted to take a risk was he pertaining to the risk of her own well being or his? It was hard too tell. Even the dull sharpness of the blade could bring forth injury and if used skillfully enough and with the right talent it could be just as deadly as any sharp blade. She was terribly inexperienced. It wasn't that she was afraid of getting hurt, because she knew she would, but more so the fact that if she was wounded it would only show her distain and incapable techniques when it came to sword play.
Either way, she wasn't going to drop the katana and tell her boss she couldn't do it. Her hands flexed on the blade and she in took a sharp breath of air through her nose out her mouth; which was formed in a determined line.
She took a step towards him and held the blade out in front of her ready to block or bring forth any attacks. At the moment she wasn't concerned about her foot work. She knew she'd use her feet. She wasn't the type to stand there and wave the blade around like it was a fucking flag. They'd move and in time she'd move with more of a purpose. The brunette did take Bill's advice however and started with swift slashes against his own. The blades clashed and sent off a methodic ringing on contact, but not to the extent if the blades were clashed at a higher speed. These movements were 'slow motion' type after all, and the best way to get the feel of the blade. So far her slashes were 'decent', like any novice it could use work. She took another step forward and this time switched her slash to aim lower at her opponent's body.
In Bill's mind there were basically two objectives to training. One, the main objective, was to become proficient enough to not get oneself killed by others and to be able to kill those others with accuracy and proficiency. This objective was something of a no brainier, and while it certainly required some talent. Obviously not every person born could be trained to be a killer, yet...it still could be taught. It was matter of muscle, memory, and practice, not unlike a well trained solder. Bill had been taught, and he in turn had taught others. It was the classic teacher/student situation.
The second objective was a little harder to explain and grasp. It was reaching for that...'other', that indefinable style...a 'mojo' of sorts. It was what separated your run of the mill assassin from a truly unforgettable one. It was a kind of panache that made a killer hard to forget. Every person expressed this in a different way, as each person was an original entity. But, it was being able to reach in and grasp at this inner self that was often difficult to attain. Beatrix Kiddo had been a woman oozing with this 'killer style' and Bill knew that was what had initially drawn him to her...on multiple levels. Bill felt he had attained this second objective years ago...he had his own style, it was his and his alone.
And thus, he had high expectations for those who worked for him. He wanted each of them to find this 'killer nirvana', but he knew it was not always capable. Thus, he knew Aiyana was more than able to fulfill the first objective. She was capable and professional...she was a quick learner, sharp and confident. But, he was still looking for that second objective. He was trying to catch a glimpse of it as they exchanged sword strikes and parries.
What he could see was her determination to perform something she was not entirely sure of herself to be able to do. Bill respected that. Determination would eventually bring proficiency, if one possessed the talent that is.
Bill blocked Aiyana's lower intended strike; easily stepping out of the way. He took a slow slash of his own at her...which, surprisingly she blocked fairly decently. Of course, this was all at a very depressed speed. The speed at which two practiced swordfighters tended to proceed at was often at a dizzying capacity. Not only that, there were all sorts of 'dirty tricks' that could be thrown in, something Bill was quite proficient at and very fond of. But, again...something Aiyana wasn't quite ready for yet.
Bringing his blade up again in a wide arc, he met with Aiyana's strong parry, he gave her a flash of a pleased smile, "Not bad, Miss Espona, not bad...but, let's step it up a bit." He then sped up his attacks, driving her backwards. But she managed to keep blocking the gradually speedier strikes...although by the look on her face, she wasn't exactly enjoying it.
Bill continued this slow ascent in speed. He was going to drive her to her limit. He'd used this tactic before and it often produced surprising results. It was under the pressure of potential harm and the adrenaline rush of speed that an unsure individual would often perform far better than they thought capable.
At this point, Bill was beginning to sweat more than he preferred to, but he was too intent to take the time to wipe any of it away. Aiyana likewise held an expression of extreme concentration, as he continued to up the ante and she was in turn forced to compensate.
And then, he saw it...she came too close to missing a block...she'd reached her limit. Stopping, in a sudden motion, Bill froze. Aiyana's heels were a few inches from the precipice of the courtyard stairs. He jabbed the tip of the katana in-between two cobblestones at his feet and crossed his arms.
"Very good," he pushed hair out of his face, taking a moment to clear away beads of sweat, "You see, Miss Espona, I think you are far more capable with a blade than you realize..."
Aiyana was taking in gasps of air, her chest heaving in and out. She clenched tight to the sword in her sweaty palms as if she still had to defend herself, even though Bill had long since ceased his strikes. She gave him a weary smile and her hands eased off the handle to hold it at more comfortable grip. She hadn't expected it to turn that intense, nor did she appreciate it, but she knew that intense battle was the only way to learn.
She had easily gained that first objective. She was skilled enough with the sword to not get herself killed but to create substantial injuries in return. If she was put up against a 'master' swordsman than she'd most likely be killed, but when it came to the basics she had it.
As for the second, she had a style, it was a beginner's style that would soon work into her own, but it was hardly nirvana. Everything came with enough practice and determination, which she certainly wasn't lacking. She used the back of her hand to wipe away beads of sweat trailing down her facial features and collecting around her collar bone. "Perhaps," she commented after regaining her breath. "I certainly haven't been taught by anyone like…that." That could have been taken as a compliment towards Bill, but she wasn't a complete suck up.
Bill smiled at the compliment, always one to willingly take a stroke to his ego. "You will find, Miss Espona, that I have my own way of doing things." Bill's 'way of doing things' often included scaring the shit out of somebody to get them to perform beyond their means. It worked, but wasn't the most mentally healthy path out there. But, Aiyana was not the type to get easily scared or intimidated, and he liked those qualities. She did what she had to do, to survive and to succeed...thus why she'd managed to block every one of Bill's increasingly faster attacks. He was still a little iffy on her style and she was no expert sword fighter...yet. But…overall, he was pleased with her progress.
"I think that's enough for today Miss Espona," he spoke up, brushing more sweaty hair out of his face. Likewise, the brunette looked like she'd gotten a good work out. Bill had to admit, he was glad to get back to a good routine of physical exercise after nearly a month of his own physical neglect and chronic substance abuse.
He yanked the katana out from the cobblestones, and then taking Aiyana's own blade, returned them to rack. They descended the stone steps from the courtyard, Bill waving for Aiyana to follow him inside.
Once they got into the kitchen, he opened the refrigerator and handed Aiyana a large bottled water. Taking one for himself, he then sat down at the bar.
"So, Aiyana," without even realizing it Bill had called the brunette by her first name for the first time, "...how do you feel you did today?"
Aiyana hardly noticed that Bill had called her by her first name, and if she did notice she was secretly glad he had. That meant he was growing more used to her presence. She slugged down quenching gulps of water from the water bottle, popped the top from her lips and settled the bottle on the counter. Her thin shaped eyebrows furrowed in momentary though to the posed question.
"I believe I did alright. I'll admit I don't like the sword but I'll try to make sure my disliking for the blade doesn't affect my potential to learn." She lifted her water as if debating whether to take another drink before adding to her thoughts, "I would have liked to have preformed better…but…" a small shrug of the shoulders. "What can you do?" She gulped down another helping of water.
"You can practice," Bill replied with a raised brow, taking a long sip out of his own water bottle. "But," he started once again as he set his bottle down, "...I think you preformed perfectly fine given your limited experience with bladed weapons. You can't expect to like every form of assassination." Actually, when Bill thought about it, there really wasn't one form of assassination that he didn't like. There were certain ways he liked to kill over others...but, honestly he really was a fan of everything. This fact didn't exactly improve Bill's position as a caring human being...but, he wasn't doing all that well in that category anyways.
He regarded the brunette over the expanse of the countertop, "Next time we'll take a further step with weaponry and styles. But," he leaned back," in the meantime I'd say your perfectly capable to go solo on assignments from now on." He offered her a tight smile, "And you and a gun are a deadly combination, Miss Espona...use that to your full advantage. Part of being an effective killer is using every asset you have to your advantage...," he trailed off, waving a hand dismissively, realizing he'd gone into 'lecture' mode.
"Well," he slid off the barstool, "….either way...I'm confident you can fly solo from now on."
Pretty pastels and white glowing lights made up the color scheme of the familiar hospital waiting room. The blonde couple sat on the far from comfy chairs surrounded by other various couples who were either expecting or had an inpatient child clinging to their hip. Beatrix was exhausted. Her usually white complexion was far whiter and clammy with glazed blue eyes. Her whole demeanor was due to the long hours of work and the fact they had to make an emergency doctor's run.
The emergency wasn't bad but it wasn't good. Towards the later hours in the record store Beatrix had noticed her stomach was hurting and it wasn't the usual morning sickness. When she went to the restroom she had a rather unpleasant and perhaps heart attack inducing surprise. She had bleed. Just a little but it was there. Now usually blood was a fickle thing to Beatrix but considering things she wasn't reacting well. Either way she put on her 'mask', stayed calm, and went to the doctor with Tommy for support.
It turned out to be nothing. Doctor Herman ensured sometimes it happened and that the baby was perfectly fine and healthier than ever. He recommended Beatrix taking it easy for the next few days and adjusts some of her diet but other than that she'd fine.
Now they were in the waiting room awaiting the results of a blood test before they could leave. The tall blonde had her head resting on Tommy's shoulder aimlessly watching the people in the room. She felt numb, unsure, and hormonal; she wanted to get the fuck out of there.
"Miss Machiavelli," the nurse from behind the desk spoke up from across the way. "Everything is perfectly fine. You are free to go home."
It had taken Tommy the entire time...during the doctor's visit, and the wait after the visit just to calm down enough to sit still. He had been in a controlled state of panic. Arlene had been very calm about the whole thing, but he couldn't' help but become overly worried about the whole thing. What if she'd lost the baby? What if something had been wrong with her? He couldn't even bare the thought now; he was too attached. But nothing was wrong; he had to keep reminding himself of that. Both Arlene and the baby were just fine. And now the nurse's further reassurance made him calm down even further. He flashed the nurse a tight but well meaning smile at her words.
Turning to the blonde, he rubbed her shoulder, "It's ok honey," he said softly; feeling the need to repeat basically what the nurse had just said. "Let's go home...get you rested up..." He helped her to her feet; feeling more protective than ever. She looked pale, and tired. He put a strong arm around her waist as the two of them crossed the waiting room for the wide glass doors.
A round friendly looking woman with three small crying children in tow was coming in the doors just as they were leaving. She flashed the tall blonde couple a wide gleaming smile; easily totting along her wailing kids...as if she didn't even notice the drama anymore. "Oh yes," she beamed knowingly as they passed by the couple, "...you're looking very healthy...I'd say...five or so months along?"
Beatrix's blonde head snapped up. It took her about five seconds to realize what just happened. She let out an uneasy laugh and shook her head. "No, I'm only twelve weeks," she clarified in the nicest tone she could muster. This was trying her nerves. Tommy was right there, beside her, listening to everything this nosey shit assed woman said and Beatrix tried her hardest to keep the flash in those blue eyes as genial as possible.
The woman replied with a shrill little laugh; still smiling, "Oh no..no...if you're only twelve weeks, then I think you'll be having triplets!" She laughed again; still wheeling her brood of children with her, "You're a good five months honey...if I've ever seen five months...and believe me, I have...three times!" She laughed...once again; pushing along quickly. "Well now, good luck to you two, and...those triplets! Hah, you're gunna need it!" She offered once last smile and laugh before moving into the waiting room.
Tommy had been by Arlene's side during that exchange, quiet; his brows knitted slightly. He hardly ever frowned, but the faint downward tilt of his mouth was noticeably there now. "Come on honey," he said under his breath; in an uncharacteristically serious tone as he continued to help her out and across the parking lot. He helped Arlene into his car; which was fixed now. It was a '89 Honda Civic, hardly flashy.
Coming around to the driver's side, he got in; still stoic and started up the car without a word. It was obvious something was now bothering him...something that went beyond the scare that had gotten them to the office to begin with.
He drove in silence for a few moments before turning to glance at Arlene, "I think we need to talk..."
Beatrix couldn't describe what she was feeling right then because she never ever wanted to feel like that. She was scared. It wasn't noticeable by her demeanor which remained void or a touch placid but by those blue eyes. Tommy knew or was at least suspicious. It was too much. Tommy's mother, that woman at the office, everything that was suspicious to begin with it all came together. She couldn't lie out of this one because the truth was becoming painfully too real.
Her lips pursed to hold back a wave of emotion and she began to nod her head very, very slowly. "Yes," she finally replied sounding much more passive than intended. How could she do this? How could she tell Tommy the baby wasn't his? How could she jeopardize the well being of her baby? How could she do this to such a…good man?
She had to play this right, she had to word it carefully, she had to mix in more lies but she had to make him believe her. Her next set of words came out hesitantly and soft, "I'm a…bad person."
Tommy almost pulled the car over right then and there, but instead he just turned and stared at Arlene; wide eyed and momentarily silent. That obviously had taken him a little by surprise.
"No...oh no no...Arlene, you're not a bad person...not at all," his tone was kind and utterly sincere. He reached out and rubbed her shoulder. "Don't ever say that..." He looked completely in disarray just to hear those words come out of her mouth. "...please..."
He turned back to the road, "It's ok...it's alright," he seemed to be reassuring himself more than anybody, "We'll talk about this...and we'll work it out honey..." He swallowed. Inwardly, Tommy was in somewhat of a state of turmoil. His growing suspicions were now coming to fruition, and he wasn't sure he wanted to hear the truth. Yet, he knew...he knew he and Arlene had to bring this out in the open. It had just been waiting in the wings to be brought up, and now...there was no escaping it.
Blinking a few times, Tommy continued driving, falling back into a lapse of heavy silence. He didn't appear angry, but more...confused and hurt than anything. He wasn't upset with Arlene, and he hated to hear her berate herself like that. He couldn't think badly of her...could he?
Once they'd pulled into the driveway, Tommy went around and helped Arlene out of the car. They quickly went inside. Finally safely inside the solitude of Tommy's small house, he sat down heavily on the couch; watching the tall blonde with a pair of quizzical blue eyes. He'd never been very good with the whole 'couples talking' thing and this was an especially hard topic to open up. He felt awkward.
"Look...Arlene," he began slowly; large hands gripping onto his kneecaps, "...all...I want to know...is the real truth. I'm...I'm not mad...OK...I just want to know..."
"The real truth?" The tall distraught blonde muttered in a repeat to herself. 'My name really isn't Arlene Machiavelli, I really was an assassin, who feel in love with my boss, got pregnant, and ran away.' No, that wouldn't work even if it was the real truth.
She sat on the far end of the couch away from him, hands settled at her side, her body straight if not too tight in posture. Beatrix was still scared but now it was growing into fear. Fear that if she didn't word this correctly she could lose Tommy. He'd hate her, leave her because of the lie she tried to make him believe. He couldn't leave her…it was unfathomable. Everything she had worked up to, everything she wanted for her baby would be ruined. She couldn't raise a child by herself…well she could if she had too but she didn't want too. She needed Tommy.
"I…" the words formed but her lips wouldn't move. Blue eyes gave him a weary side glance. Dammit, she had to stop acting like a scared little girl and just get it out. Maybe it'd be okay... Her chin tilted up and blue eyes finally locked on him. "I'm five…almost six months pregnant." That was a start. Her lips worked slowly, "It wasn't a planned pregnancy…and he…wasn't a father…so I left." Details down to a minimum. She had to work this safely for her own as well as Tommy's protection. "…And I came here…and I met you and everything happened so fast…I…" she trailed off in a moment to regain her emotional control. The gloss in those blue eyes was real. She was upset about this to a point of emotional pain, something she always tried to hide but this time she wasn't going to hide it because needless to say she could use it to her advantage.
Her tone lowered, "I shouldn't have lied to you…"
Tommy took it all pretty well; considering.
He listened quietly; watching Arlene with an open expression that was both earnest and tinged with hurt. His hands clasped a little tighter onto his knees, but he did not move. He was not a man of extreme negative reactions. After she had finished he made a small noise in that back of this throat that was somewhat indiscernible.
Then, he turned his head away from her; eyes on the far wall. He sat like that for a good long tense minute. Finally he spoke. "I think I knew...," he began; voice soft but certainly full of pain, "...I think I knew from the start, but...ya know, I just wanted to believe...so much...that it was mine. Even my mother...she hinted at it when she was here, and I didn't want to believe her." He turned to look at her again; eyes frosty with emotion, "God Arlene, I wish you'd told me from the start." His expression became more beseeching, "You know I would still have...still loved you, and the baby...I..," but he trailed off; hands reaching up to dig into his scalp. He had to sort this out one thing at a time. "I guess," he began again; a little more calmly this time, "...I just...want to know first...if...you and I...are….real or...just...part of...the whole lying thing." His look intensified, "I love you Arlene...I really do...and even though you...lied to me like this...I still do. But, do you love me? Because, I have to know...right now..." Tommy rarely made such demands of anybody, but he was feeling a little strained at the moment.
"Of course I love you," she replied earnestly if not too quickly. Beatrix did love him, but it was a different kind of love. It wasn't close to what she had with the real father but with Tommy it was special. At the very least she cared deeply for him and if time had allowed them she would have loved him immensely as their relationship grew. But for now she couldn't deny herself the yearning of another man, but to Tommy she could easily.
"It's because I love you that I lied to you," she added on gently. Blue eyes were fixated on him; shimmering with that glossy tint. "After meeting you I couldn't bear the thought of loosing you. I couldn't tell you about the baby's real father because I didn't want that to push you away. I'm just…" she trailed off her voice cracking with emotion. Beatrix was just scared; she was scared shitless for her baby. And that was it, the clear thing to draw in sympathy from any man.
Her lips pursed and lids blinked hard over blue eyes. It hurt herself to say this, but it was needed. "…I'm just…scared…Tommy."
Tommy was on his feet and over at the blonde's side in less than ten seconds flat. He wrapped his big arms around her in a supportive embrace. "There's nothing to be scared of sweetie," he reassured her in a serious but warm enough tone. He was still reeling from hearing the news, but he was doing his best to cope. He'd wanted so badly for her baby to be his...he couldn't deny that, but that wasn't going to stop him from caring for Arlene and her child...as if the child was indeed his own.
She loved him; that was enough. Was he a little angry that she had lied? Well yes, of course he was...but again...that wasn't going to stop him from loving her. Was he gullible? Perhaps. Maybe he was a fool...stupid to fall for it all. But, in the end...none of that mattered. Arlene needed him. She needed his support, his love and his protection. She was afraid...of what, he did not know. But he sure as hell was going to do his best to make sure there was nothing for her to be afraid of.
He rubbed her back, "Don't worry about a thing Arlene...we'll work this out...," he stared a little blankly past her shoulder. He could easily love this baby like his own...and he already loved Arlene. She'd lied to him, but he could forgive her for that in time...forgiveness was something he could do.
He pulled away from her; holding her at arm's length, "I'm not going to leave you," he stated with soft determination. That was what she was afraid of perhaps. "I wouldn't do that to you...ok?" His sparkling blue eyes searched her face.
Beatrix nodded slowly. Her angelic features were dabbed with traces of tears and blue eyes starring back at him were puffy along the rims. She never cried in front of anyone, if anything the tears now gracing her face were fake. But perhaps not…it was debatable. Instead of replying just yet, she came back into that embrace feeling a sense of protection from it. Tommy was no killer, he didn't give that kind of protection, the protection from him was sincere and far greater than anything physical. It was needed.
The blonde tilted her head and buried her face against the crook of his neck. He was special, Beatrix knew that. She couldn't think of any man she had ever known treating her like this…he really was a nice guy. She muffled soft words against his skin, "Thank you."
She stayed like that for a moment, enjoying the simplicity of it, and that everything was going to be okay. In a numb state of calming nerves she pulled away from him. A hand came up and she used the back to wipe at her face. "What about the wedding?" She questioned meekly if not with a little uncertainty.
Tommy let Arlene take her time with her recovery, partially because he needed the time as well; holding onto her tighter than ever. Everything was still sinking in for him...and it was a lot to cope with. His mind was racing, going over his months with her...their conversations, their time together, the baby... He felt a little numb. He wasn't angry or jovial, but he trying to be introspective about the whole thing. In time, the shock would wear away...back to the shining joy he felt when Arlene had told him she was pregnant. He could still go on with this...he just had to...adjust. They were still going to be a happy family.
He blinked at her sudden question, "The wedding? Well," a small smile graced his face, "...we can't cancel it now...no," he shook his blonde head, "...we've gotta keep on with the plans Arlene." He squeezed her shoulders, "I still want to get married...this doesn't change that. It wouldn't be right to call it off now. I want to marry you...," the smile widened a little,"...baby or not...my baby or not...it's the right thing to do." He was sure about this decision. "I love you, and I will love this baby...like it's mine, and we will still get married...just like we planned. This doesn't change that."
Well, it changed some things...mostly in Tommy's perspective, but still things should remain as they had. He would adjust...he was already adjusting. Things would be just fine.
The makings of a smile finally tugged at Beatrix's lips. She wanted to get married, she always secretly wanted to, it was just the complications of life that kept her from it but now she was free to do what she wanted. "I don't think I could stand the thought of not becoming Mrs Tommy Plympton," she stated; her tone tracing the edges of playful sarcasm. If Tommy could adjust then so could she. She already was.
It was easier to keep things as they were. There was less room for mistakes and more room to let it go. Beatrix was eager to forget this conversation ever happened. Another lie, denying the truth, but Tommy was okay with that. The whole thing was working in her favor. As for her baby, she was perfectly safe. Tommy was the perfect father and he was willingly to accept her baby as his, she couldn't ask for anything more than that.
She idly leaned back into him, resting her head on his shoulder. "It's late," she stated in a weary effort to dismiss the night.
Nodding in agreement; Tommy once again encircled Arlene in his big arms. He patted the back of her head with tender affection, not passionate affection, but one that was accepting and forgiving. He understood her message of moving on, and wariness of the events of the day. He wanted to move on too. He didn't want to deny what he'd learned, but he certainly was ready to begin accepting it. While many men would surely have reacted more negatively to this news, Tommy's reaction was pleasantly docile. It was up for debate if this was in fact a good quality or a bad one, but for Beatrix's current situation….it certainly was a good one.
"Hey...let's keep the store closed tomorrow," he suggested softly. "We can...rest up...take it slow, maybe do some wedding plan stuff." He shifted a little; catching her hooded eyes, "How does that sound?"
Looking at Arlene now, he had a sudden and very strong desire to make sure she was happy. He had wanted her to be happy all along, but now...the feeling was even more prominent. She deserved some happiness, and he wanted to give that to her. Sure, she'd lied to him...but that didn't mean she still didn't deserve happiness.
He offered her a gentle smile, "I know you have stacks of bridal magazines to go through still...and," he squeezed her shoulder again, "...we can spend the day together, just us."
"I'd like that." The smile on her face only intensified at that suggestion. It made her happy, and Beatrix never classified herself as being a happy person. She briefly recalled a conversation about happiness, being really fucking happy but she immediately closed that door; besides there were other more important things to think about.
They still had tons of things to discuss for the wedding and they didn't have allot of time to discuss it. Tommy wanted it soon and he still did, and soon meant that within the month the wedding plans had to be complete. This still didn't bother Beatrix, she was elated to know how eager Tommy was to get married.
Not only could they get some well needed wedding plans done, but they needed that time together. The day to sleep in, have a leisurely breakfast, lounge around the house in their pajamas surrounded by stacks of magazines, talking about random things, and just getting over what had just transpired between them. The sooner they could get past it the sooner things would be back to normal…and in Beatrix's mind normal was ideal.
Her head tilted to the side and she placed a soft kiss on his cheek.
Tommy smiled at that, some of his former unhindered happiness returning to him. "I'd like that too...," he replied softly; taking up one of Arlene's slim hands and squeezing it re assuredly.
Despite it all, knowing what he knew now, Tommy had absolutely no desire to stop the wedding, nor any ounce of doubt about how he felt about her. Things had changed a little...that was all. Once they were married, and Arlene had the baby, there would certainly be awkward moments to deal with. But, Tommy knew he could handle it. He'd always been good at adapting to new situations.
"Come on honey," he pulled on her hand gently; leading her towards the back of the house. "Let's get you all ready for bed and we'll start tomorrow fresh faced and ready to attack all of those bridal magazines..." his smile brightened at the somewhat frightening, but nonetheless exciting prospect. Because, he was sure everything would work out…and besides, they had a perfect future to look forward to together.