"There, get that down your neck."
"Ta," Carla wrapped her hands around the mug Peter placed in front of her on the breakfast bar of her flat, her fingers lightly drumming along the porcelain and she looked sheepishly up at him. "I'm sorry about last night."
"Hey, come on Car, what do you take me for?"
"I know, I just-"
"Love, stop apologizing. You're injured," his eyes narrowed as she shifted on the stool, her face contorting in discomfort as she exhaled with a grunt. "And I'll tell you something else, with the amount of pain you're in, you've done yourself an injury more serious than just a sprain."
"Yeah, well, I just hope the worst of this will pass before tonight," she shifted again on her seat, "speaking of which, could you grab us the painkillers from my nightstand, please?"
Peter nodded, "I still think you should've backed out of this so-called meeting tonight, love," he stated as he headed towards her bedroom, "I don't trust that Foster as far as I could throw him."
"Wow, colour me shocked…" Carla mumbled, taking a sip of her coffee.
"And, I know, you're going to tell me I'm just being—"
"—paranoid? Jealous?"
Peter made his way back to the kitchen, "over-protective," he smirked, playfully tapping her nose with his finger as he passed in front of her, "but you gotta admit, Carla: this isn't the first time lately that he's tried to manipulate you away from me."
"Away from you?" Carla spluttered her coffee, "look, I know you're getting on in years darlin', but you can't have already forgotten that you've been away from me, in Spain, for the past six weeks?"
"Oh, thank you for that observation, Captain Obvious, but riddle me this: how many of our scheduled calls were cut short because he'd called with some crisis—" Peter emphasized the word with air quotes, "that took you away, and what were they?"
"Okay, Peter, you've made your point—"
"False alarms, every single one of them!"
Carla pursed her lips, her eyes following Peter as he filled a glass with water at her sink.
"And now, on the first full day I'm back, knowing Simon and I would want to spend time with you, you suddenly have a meeting on a Sunday, when you never have meetings on Sundays. You know, and I'm not trying to rub it in here, but Si was really looking forward to showing you all the photos he took on vacation—"
"Oh, Peter, stop," Carla dropped her head into her hands, "I feel bad enough about this as it is."
Peter placed the glass of water in front of her, "but that's what I'm trying to say here, love – hey," he lifted her chin with his forefinger so her eyes met his, "it's not you, it's him—"
"Okay, Peter, look. I appreciate your concerns, I do. But I'm a big girl, and I don't let any man manipulate me," she lowered her voice to a whisper, "not for a long time," she cleared her throat, quickly sitting up straight once more and raised her eyes to meet his, "so, here's what's going to happen: I'm going to this meeting tonight, and I assure you that Frank will understand the score on Sunday meetings going forward, alright?"
"Alright."
"I'll make sure of it. Now hand us the pills, yeah? I'm in agony, 'ere!" She snatched the bottle out of Peter's hand, quickly taking her dose and slamming the bottle back on the counter.
As Peter replaced the lid onto the bottle, his eyes quickly scanned the label, "Carla, it says here you're supposed to take these with food!"
"But Peter, I couldn't eat a—"
"No buts! These can really do a number on your stomach if you're not careful. Come on," he walked around and offered her his arm, "we are gonna get you comfy on that couch, while I rustle you up a quick breakfast. Then you can nod off for a couple of hours and catch up on some much-needed sleep."
"You can take this as my formal protest to being wrapped in cotton wool," Carla grumbled, failing to hide the smile that tugged at her lips, leaning into Peter as she gingerly padded to the sofa.
"Duly noted. Easy does it," he helped her swing her legs up on the chaise once she was seated, and propped a pillow behind her back, "there. Now, hold on," he gently lifted her wrapped foot and placed a small pillow underneath it before draping the throw from the back of the sofa over her, "there. Snug as a bug in a rug."
"Mmm, on second thought," Carla grasped the material of Peter's shirt between her fingers and pulled him towards her, "a girl could get used to this…" She smiled as she planted a kiss on his lips.
"You're –" Carla kissed him, "trying to—" she kissed him again, "distract me."
"Mmm is it working?"
"You're injured…"
"What can I say, the coffee gave me a burst of energy…" she smiled as she kissed him along his jawline, "besides, I hear keeping yourself busy with other – how do they call it - activities is a good way to distract yourself from the pain…"
"Mmm, maybe, but I really should…make you summat to eat…"
"You should," Carla nibbled his lower lip, "But is that what you really prefer to be doing?" she whispered before capturing his lips again, letting out a squeal of surprise when Peter hoisted her body up in his arms.
"Good point," he kissed her again as he carried her into her bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him with his foot.
"Cheers, Steve," Peter closed the door to the taxi before handing some folded bills to his friend through the driver-side window.
"Have fun, kids!" Steve winked with a smile, beeping the horn as he left them at the entrance to the Bistro.
"Here, love," he hoisted her overnight bag over his shoulder and with his free hand grasped Carla's elbow gently, supporting her little hop onto the sidewalk as she steadied herself on her crutches. "Could you not have chosen a more practical shoe to wear on your one good foot, Car?"
"Listen Barlow, I may have to wander about with this hideous wrap on my foot, and lean on these ridiculous crutches, but that doesn't mean I 'ave to lose my sense of fashion as well."
She steadied herself on her one black stiletto, using her palms to smooth out the grey dress she was wearing. Noting the shake of Peter's head, she raised her hands in mock surrender, "I've packed me flats for tomorrow, don't worry."
"Good. Because if you even think about hobbling into work tomorrow on that monstrosity, I'll be carrying you to that factory meself."
"Any excuse to sling me over your shoulder hey, Barlow?"
"Am I that obvious?" Peter chuckled, "seriously love, I'm glad you decided to stay at ours tonight. Si will be made up to see you."
"Yes well, I'm looking forward to seeing him an' all. Plus, it does make my getting to work tomorrow much more convenient – mmpf," she grunted as she clutched her stomach.
"Stomach bothering you?" Peter asked, sighing as she nodded in response and he placed his arm around her shoulders, "Oh love, I knew you should have eaten something with them painkillers."
"Yeah, probably," she said, peering at him coyly through her lashes, "but I much prefer how we spent the morning, don't you?"
"You're incorrigible."
"Mmm hmm," Carla purred, "and didn't you miss me…"
"I did," Peter smiled, planting a soft kiss on her lips before placing his hand on the small of her back, "come on, let's get you inside."
"You're coming inside?"
"Yeah, for a few minutes. Why?"
"Peter," Carla sighed, "I don't need you to walk me to my table like some over-protective b-"
Peter smirked as her cheeks started to blush, "some 'over-protective' what?"
"Nurse," Carla threw back quickly, squaring her shoulders, "Peter, I don't need a minder."
"And you're not getting one, Ms. Ego," Peter chuckled, "seriously, I need to speak with Leanne for a few minutes about Si."
"You sure that's a good idea?"
"Why wouldn't it be?"
"Because you still have a way of getting under her skin and riling her up. She still hasn't forgiven you for taking Simon away for six weeks when she was just about to step back into his life,"
"Carla-"
"And Leanne and I have buried the hatchet now, Peter. As much as we could do, any road. We've actually been getting on since that day before you left for Spain."
"Carla, I'm not looking for a fight, okay? Besides, she knows I'm stopping in."
"Oh…does she?"
"Any more excuses?"
Carla shook her head, "no," she mumbled.
"Thank god for that," Peter opened the door to the Bistro, gesturing for her to walk through, "come on hop-a-long; faster you get in for this meeting, the faster you'll get back to mine." He winked at her as she slowly made her way in, rolling her eyes at him as she passed through the door, and was given a playful slap on her backside in return.