Eddie liked to think he was getting pretty good at reading Rachel's emotions. That said, her hurrying into his classroom just after the lunch bell had rung with a distraught expression on her face didn't need much reading. "What's wrong?"
"I can't get a hold of Stuart."
He almost dropped the textbook he'd picked up off of the desk. "Why are you trying to?"
Rachel looked at him disbelieving. "Haven't you noticed?"
"Noticed what?"
"The builders aren't here! They never turned up this morning, no one contacted us with an explanation- how the hell did you not know that?" She didn't mean to snap, but she could barely breathe and he was being dense, she thought hysterically. "And I can't find him, Eddie."
"Rachel, calm down..."
"Don't tell me to calm down!" Her voice rose, eyes wide and visibly panicked. "He hasn't turned up at the office, Eddie! He isn't answering his phone! No one knows where he is."
He completely disregarded the windows in the classroom, and slid his arms around her. "It'll be okay," he murmured. "There are lots of possible reasons he's gone incommunicado- I've gone silent for longer periods of time."
"Had someone pointed a potential murderer at you?"
She had a point there. Eddie sighed, pressed a kiss to her head. "It'll be alright."
"You keep saying that- how, Eddie?" She raised her head, looked at him through haunted eyes. "No matter what happens, how is this ever going to be alright?"
"Rachel-,"
But before he could get another word out, rapidly approaching footsteps had Rachel wrenching herself out of his grip, hastily back-peddling a few steps while ignoring Eddie's instinctive frown. "YOU TWO! NO RUNNING!"
His stomach twisted when he saw Rachel flinch instinctively, almost visibly withdrawing from him. "I should go…"
"Rachel-,"
"No, this isn't your problem. I'm sorry."
"Rachel!" His voice rose and he caught hold of her shoulders, stopping her retreat. "Why did you come to me?" he asked, more softly now and felt her tense beneath his fingers. He could practically see the war inside her head, her expression torn as she hesitated over her response and he held his breath, not sure what answer he was waiting for but knowing it was going to be important anyway.
"I don't know…"
"That's a cop-out," he said instantly. "Why, Rach?"
She crossed her arms and the movement dislodged his hands. He let them fall away, but held her gaze and she shifted onto one foot, scowling. "Why does it matter?"
"Why can't you even admit to yourself?" he countered. For a moment, he feared he'd pushed too far, but then she softened, sighing.
"I'm sorry."
"I don't want you to be sorry." He slipped his hands around hers, brushing his thumb over her knuckles. "I just want you to admit your feelings. You're upset and afraid, and your first instinct is to come to me. Surely you realise the significance of that?"
She would never admit just how aware she was of his touch, the feel of his fingers against hers causing her stomach to flip. "Of course I am," she acknowledged quietly. "Why do you think I'm so scared?"
Pulling her into an embrace had never felt so natural. Her head came to tuck beneath Eddie's chin and she slid into his arms as if she belonged there. "It shouldn't be this easy," she whispered, so quietly he almost didn't hear her. Almost.
"What are you talking about?"
She drew back to look at him, expression almost frightened. "I've known you for less than a year. Closer to half a year. I shouldn't… this shouldn't…"
"Since when do these things have a time scale?"
She swallowed harshly, drowning in the soft emotions he was showing her. "Eddie…"
"This works for us," he interrupted quietly, one hand finding hers again. "Forget about some arbitrary timeline you have in your head. I've never told anyone about Stephen, but I told you. You told me about your past. We've crammed more into the time we have known each other than most people do, and that's fine. Stop letting your head rule your heart."
Oddly enough, it was his easy acceptance of the situation more than his words that eased the knot of panic that had begun to tighten in her chest. Rachel slid her arms around him again, breathed in the scent that was so uniquely him as she finally began to release some of the tension wound up inside her. "Don't think I don't know what you just did, by the way."
"What's that?"
"You changed the conversation to being about us, so I'd stop panicking about Stuart." She pulled back just enough to shoot him a knowing look. "Smooth, Lawson."
He didn't look the slightest bit apologetic. "It worked, didn't it?"
She hummed, settling back to where she'd been and resolutely ignoring the knowledge that anyone could walk past and see them.
W.R.
Rachel had been back in her office for all of five minutes when the door opened to reveal Eddie looking far too pleased with himself. She raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing through her tone. "Didn't I just send you off to lunch?"
"And I went." He held up the items in his hand, which she now recognised as sandwiches and an apple each.
It was a toss-up sometimes, whether she would be appreciative or irritated. In this case, to his relief, her expression softened towards him as she came around her desk. "You don't have to buy me food, Eddie."
"You don't eat properly otherwise," he commented, depositing his load on the table and nudging a chair backwards in clear invitation. "Honestly Rach, you eat like a bird sometimes. It's a terrible habit."
She swallowed the choked lump in her throat, hoping her voice came out steady. "My eating habits are just fine, mr grease and fat."
He pointed a finger at her, quirking his lips. "At least I eat. Don't think I don't know how often you just have an apple for lunch."
She wasn't quite sure how to respond to that, so didn't, taking her seat and opening her sandwich. "People are going to talk," she said quietly, less concerned about it than she probably should be. Eddie shrugged.
"They were all pretty distracted by their own food when I was in there." He chewed a mouthful, somewhat thoughtfully. "Besides, they always talk. This school has a major gossip problem."
Truer words had never been spoken, Rachel acknowledged, tearing off a bite and popping it in her mouth. "You don't have to try and look after me, you know," she said quietly. "I've been doing it myself for a really long time, I don't need a babysitter."
"I know that." His hand landed on hers, warm and rough as he looked at her with warm eyes. "But did you ever think that maybe I like looking after you?"
Judging by the look on her face, she hadn't. "Eddie..."
"Rachel, take it for what it is," he interrupted quickly. "Someone who cares about you making sure you've eaten. That's all."
She picked up her sandwich again, swallowed thickly without taking a bite. "I don't need you to look after me."
"I know you don't," Eddie agreed with a sigh that verged on exasperation. "But maybe I want to anyway."
How was Rachel supposed to argue with that? She'd had a few boyfriends who had wanted to 'take care of her'. Unfortunately that usually involved her acting helpless while they stroked their own egos, and somehow it never ended up being all that helpful anyway. But Eddie wasn't like that. And she didn't have an awful lot to base that belief on, but she was convinced of it anyway- no one else had ever brought her lunch just to make sure she was eating, and to spend time in her company.
"Thank you."
If the office hadn't been so quiet, Eddie wouldn't have heard Rachel speak. She avoided his eyes, focused on pulling her sandwich apart but he didn't mind, because every so often a mouthful found its way between her lips and a warm sort of satisfaction nestled into his chest. They didn't look at each other, concentrating on their food in the comfortable silence but both had small smiles that played across their expressions, knees just barely touching under the table.
Rachel unsurprisingly finished before he did, and offered coffee that she returned with just as he was depositing the rubbish in the bin, ignoring the wrinkled nose that came when he glanced at her cup of herbal tea. "Have your year tens sorted themselves out now?" she asked, because that was safe, students and school was a topic they couldn't possibly go wrong with. She didn't quite know what to make of the amused smile that flashed across his expression.
"More or less. A couple of outliers, but nothing drastic."
His gaze seemed to pierce through her and she shifted uncomfortably underneath it, felt her cheeks flush hot. "Stop looking at me like that."
"Like what?"
"Like you know something about me that I don't."
He chuckled. "I don't even know what that means."
She hummed, somehow perfectly conveying her thoughts on that as her hands wrapped around her cup. The sound went straight through Eddie and he ducked his head, hoping she hadn't noticed his bug-eyed expression.
"Well, since you've been so kind in providing lunch, why don't I provide dinner tonight?" Rachel suggested softly. "Come over this evening, I'll cook for us."
Eddie fought to keep the grin from his face. "That sounds nice." He rose, rolled his shoulders and without allowing himself to second guess it, leant over to brush his lips against her cheek. "I promised Paul I'd go through trig with him. Eat your apple."
And then he was gone, empty coffee cup sat on the desk. She hadn't even seen him drink it. She let out a quiet laugh, picking up the apple and biting into it.
An hour later, and Rachel was drowning in paperwork. Somehow, the amount seemed to have tripled from the last time she'd looked and now she was reading and scrawling signatures as quickly as she could, scoffing under her breath at Matt's request for an obscene amount of funding for an arts programme. She denied it, shot off an email to him suggesting alternative routes than dipping into school funds.
"Rachel."
She jumped violently. Her office door had been open, but usually she heard the sounds of someone approaching long before they reached her, whether it be footsteps or the conversation with her assistant. Not in this case, however, and she felt the blood drain from her face as she stared at the figure in the doorway.
"Stuart..."