Jo's hands had soon found their way around Laurie's neck and he ducked closer to feel her breathing. Breath was a good sign; the lack of warmth was not. She gripped his back tightly as he half-stepped half-leaped across fallen branches and rails, avoiding the deeper puddles on the road and hurrying up the slow slope towards their houses. She pressed her face against his chest, the scraping feel of his woollen coat like fire against her icy yet surprisingly tender skin. It was as though she would never truly feel warm again.
Most of the trip back home was a daze for Jo and she would wonder how they made it at all later, tucked up in bed. Each bustling step, each jostle was like rocking a baby to sleep and she felt her eyelids droop dangerously. No! Jo told herself sternly but tired, Laurie said to stay awake! And Jo soon found the endless shakes and shivers were impossible to subside and they were trouble enough to keep her blinking and conscious. It was so cold!
Laurie kicked at the small gate when he reached it, frustrated to no end when the wooden panels would not budge from the lock. Forgetting to look for Amy he simply stretched his long legs over it, balancing Jo awkwardly. Two paces later he heard the latch give and remembered the youngest March and stopped only to wait for her to run ahead for the door. Jo was like lead in his arms by this point, having carried her all the way from Waldon Pond without so much as a shift about in his long limbs. Praise be to Brooke for all the time he'd given to physical education! He started ahead when Amy ran by, her golden braids thumping against her back looking somewhat diminished without the vibrant red coat Jo now wore.
Amy reached the March's door and with shaking fingers turned the knob. She pushed the door open yelling, "Marmee!" and Laurie pushed past her with his precious cargo heading towards the sofa in the front room. A bustle was heard upstairs and in the kitchen and the room was soon filled with motherly, "what is it dear?" and feminine, "Oh my stars!" from Hannah and Mrs March.
"She fell in the pond," Laurie gushed, sounding out-of-breath.
"Amy! Fetch all the blankets you can carry. Hannah, help me get her out of these wet things." Marmee was all business and nurse and Laurie turned to watch Jo with worried eyes. Her eyes were terribly glassy and she watched the room without recognition of time or place. Laurie took her hand and clutched it tightly as Jo's mother began to pull his boots of Jo's feet. The tall boy ran a hand across his friend's forehead, meaning only for it to be a momentary check and soon found himself cupping Jo's cheek in tender affection. She just had to be alright.
Mrs March watched all of this quietly, removing the heavier articles of their neighbours and the saturated delicates of her daughters with quick, sure fingers. "Thank you Laurie," she spoke seriously when Hannah returned with a bucket for the clothes and a hot towel for Jo's head. "I think it's time you go."
Laurie looked up in shock, with every intention of refusing to leave Jo's side until he caught Mrs March's gaze at his things, and the lack of Jo's original clothes and he found himself pulling away until he was standing in the middle of the room making a noticeable puddle on the carpet rug. He had not prepared for this consequence.
"Yes, of course," he said quietly, looking shaken and a little bewildered. Laurie ignored Amy's stare as she stood by the door, piles of blankets in arms and he walked out of the room and the house feeling every inch in the squelch of his socked toes.
…
Jo sat by the roaring fire. She could finally feel her feet again and never had the sensation been so delicious nor so warm – excluding the time she'd spilt the hot coals between the stove and the fire in one ill-conceived cost-cutting experiment. Jo snuggled down deeper in the mountain of blankets and quilts; eager to be enveloped in what she sincerely hoped was a never-ending supply of heat. Beth's cats had joined her in her little paradise and Jo grinned at the lazy way they pawed about, climbing the heights that was her hip and settling in the valleys between her arms.
Nothing had felt so lovely.
The fire crackled happily along with her and Jo stared into its beaming bronze face. The coals glowed visibly and her eyes danced in delight with the twigs that snapped and spurted little sparks of amber that fell across the brighter flames like fairy lights.
A sudden scratching at the window tore Jo's attention from the fire theatre and she tried to see what was making the noise without having to move a great deal. Being warm was well worth it, and if she had to leave her comforting haven then Jo would have nothing to do with curiosity until it was brought to her.
The scratching continued and with a great sigh and one last hug for the copper pot she sat up, instantly regretting the action when a great rush of cold air scrambled its way along her back and down into the covers left on her legs. Frowning Jo stretched to look out the window and found her dearest friend leaning over the frozen rosebush with a few suspicious-looking stones in the palm of his hand.
"Oh!" she saw him say through the window pane and she laughed as he directly lost his footing. Laurie scrambled to hold himself up by the ledge, his boots slippery on the rocks that lined the garden bed. Grinning sheepishly back at her Jo gestured for him to use the front door and come in which prompted the queerest response from her boy. Jo watched as Laurie paled and leaned back to look around into what she presumed were the other windows of the house. Why, she thought as he tried to look casual about it, he looks mighty nervous. Just what had he gone and done now? Jo wondered before he winked at her and disappeared from sight.
A moment or two later Jo was straining to hear the door open and with luck it opened and brought her neighbour who gave one quick look in the kitchen and up the stairs before meeting her in the sitting room.
"Oh my boy!" Jo cried as he embraced her looking rather giddy for all his odd behaviour.
"How are you, soldier?"
"Very well now, thank you. Well I should say I was a great deal warmer before your delinquency tore me from my sick-bed," Jo pouted theatrically, pleased that Laurie squeezed himself beside her rather than lean his head on her knee as he looked wont to do.
Laurie stretched his long limbs out beside her, quite at place before his expression returned to its usual calm casualness. He winked at her again and Jo gathered the blankets selfishly about her, deliberately creating an extra layer of space between them. Laurie rubbed his chin before resting the hand near Jo's shoulder, making his excuse, "Sometimes a fellow needs to be noticed."
Jo scoffed at that, rolling her eyes before she resettled unknowingly closer than she intended to her friend. "Well sometimes property needs to be respected. Why in heavens did you not use the door?" Jo poked him in the rib through her generous blankets and the effect was rather dulled.
"Your mother," he answered simply and honestly and was met with confusion.
"Oh?"
"Where are your sisters?" Jo saw his deflection and decided to humour him. She'd find out sooner or later. "Beth is with Amy and Meg has gone to town for potatoes with Marmee."
"Good," Laurie breathed and the hand by Jo's shoulder wandered its way to her hair. Jo did not bat it away impatiently as was the norm between them when Laurie's teasing became physical for such was a boy's way. Instead his large hand lingered, tracing the shell of her ear in the most touching of gestures Jo had known.
Jo remained very still as his hand moved from her ear to her jaw, following it's sharply defined edge with a caress she felt amiss for the tall space-filling lad who would prod and poke her til she squirmed.
"I –" Laurie began before finding the words stuck in his throat. He swallowed deeply, black eyes concentrating on a spot Jo felt certain was by her lips. "That was a close call this afternoon." Jo found herself swallowing as his fingertips brushed the corner of her mouth and she nodded quickly once. Should she break this spell? Jo was unsure – this was not usual and unprecedented in her experiences with the Laurence boy – and she found more shockingly she did not mind it. "I – I'm sorry Jo, I should have checked the ice. I meant to, honest, but you were – and Amy had – so I wanted you to have fun and I guess I just… forgot."
"Don't be silly," Jo ducked her head, despite the hand that held it lightly. Oh she felt ashamed that Laurie of all people should blame himself for the accident. "If I hadn't been so cross over such a silly thing I would have noticed myself. Really there is no one else to blame but my stupid self and don't –" Jo stopped Laurie before he could voice his protest – "I am well chastised for my behaviour – I will never act so petty over such a meaningless thing in the scheme of things as a book and always, always forgive. I should have forgiven Amy last night and I'm so sorry I didn't and almost payed –" Jo looked away choking on that particular reality. She had spoken heresy on her life's love for writing and novels but she had learnt a greater love, ever so much more essential to being was a love for one's family and she had shown no love to her youngest sister that day. She was silly and angry and wrong and she had almost payed for it with her life. She was such a child and so upset with herself that sniffing angrily she did not notice Laurie shift closer. "Amy did not deserve the monster I became today she was so sorry, really I was quite a horrid wretch. She was so good when I fell and – oh and you!" Jo looked back at Laurie to find him much closer than she expected. "Thank you my boy," she beamed, pulling out her hands to pat his shoulders. Nothing else could be said for Jo had meant those words with every fibre of her being and she knew Laurie had caught their significance. There was a second or two where Laurie leaned further towards her and something panicked in Jo thinking he would kiss her but he simply pulled back before crushing her in a hug.
"Don't ever frighten me like that again Jo March." Jo was sure she could hear tears in his voice but buried in his long limbs as she was she could not see his face. When he pulled back he simply smirked at her and punched her lightly in the arm. "Books meaningless! Why your drowning has sent you mad off your rocker, old fellow."
A/N: best way to waste time waiting for the dryer to go off so I can go to bed. A lot of the descriptions were influenced by the movies this time round – waldon pond and the gate really. Mostly coz I'm too lazy to pick up the book maybe 2 metres behind me. Oh, there you go in the book it's a river. Fancy that. Thanks for reading and letting me know what you think guys. It is always, always appreciated.