Chapter 7: Confusion, and Tension

Of course not, he had made it pointedly clear that she was projecting, and yet not once had he denied her claims of feelings, but he did not admit them openly either. And now here she was, sitting in the backseat, having thrust her gift into his unsuspecting arms as she sobbed. She brought her own hands to cover her face, crying loudly into them. She didn't even care if he heard her cry anymore, there was no use in hiding how she was feeling.

What the fuck.

What the fuck.

What the...fuck?

What the fuck just happened? What the fuck was that? What thefuckwasthat?Bash felt his eyes widening as he saw Mary turn on him, thrust a bag into his hand, and cry. All in thirteen seconds. Bash furrowed his brows as a dazed look crossed his features. It was the fastest time for a woman's meltdown that he thought he'd ever recorded, beating his own mother by point zero eight seconds and Francis' mother, Catherine, by a whole point three. But, in his daze he was thinking things beside the point, (come on, Sebastian, focus), that was irrelevant, the main point was that he had no idea why.

What happened? What was the issue? Was whether or not she approved of her over emotional and disregard really that big of an issue? Because he didn't want her up front? Because she didn't like the dresses? Bash shook his head slowly, then cringed when he heard her wailing from the inside of the car. He was suddenly not Bash, the head of King's Security, but Bash.

He almost dropped the bag in his urgency.

He fished his cell phone out his pocket, hit 2, and then pressed send.

If there was one thing he couldn't handle, it was when a woman became hysterical. He couldn't, couldn't, couldn't. The flailing, the wailing, it was so impossibly heart stopping. Surely all men felt the way he did, didn't they? That eerie ripple that shudders through them, that deafening, grating sound in one's ear and splitting head ache, that want to just take a silenced 9MM and put them both out of their misery, or at least the women in question -

Surely, all men felt this way, but just were ten times better than Bash at hiding it.

When a woman broke down in hysterics, Bash froze up, unable to do nothing but simply panic. Fight or Flight. For everything Bash seemed to be good at -which was everything-Bash realized that there was one thing he was bad at -which meant, almost everything- a woman's cry. It was one thing he did not know how to handle.

Usually, he could be subtle about it, but here, now, with the Queen of Scotland crying in his car-

He had to get them out of there. They had to leave, now. They needed to go home right now.

But he couldn't get in the car with her acting like that. He had no idea what the hell to do.

The phone picked up after six rings. "Boss?"

"Jackson, you deal with this. I can't."

"Wait a minute, Boss. What is it you're talking about?"

"Mary."

The line was silent for a moment.

The silence was deafening to Bash. It spoke things he had been avoiding all day.

Fifteen seconds of silence stretched between them.

Bash hung up.

Drew in ragged breaths and tried to quiet the sound of his heart.

Fine, alright. He didn't know what the fuck to do about Mary. He was stripped raw by her. Sliced up so completely and split open. Her lips were heaven, her voice saying his full name, heaven - (unlike sales lady Amy and her brunette hair twirl) - her insistence that she loved him, death and rebirth (a reincarnation); it was the finest wine or vodka on his tongue, numbing him completely and giving him a warmth in his chest that was pure pleasure.

Fuck, man. He wanted her. He wanted to kiss her. Claim her. But even more than that, he wanted to love her. He wanted to love her and find out if he had truly fallen in love with his brother's wife. It was so hard to resist her. So hard to stay professional. He had almost done it, he had almost kept himself in check until they returned to the castle. Almost, but now, man?

He was fucked. Epically and royally fucked. No pun intended. No sexual themes implied.

His body practically shook with the need to hold her, with the need to hear her confess to him one more time, and yet her sudden freak out left him whiplashed. The bag in his hand (a gift, she'd called it) a ticking time bomb in his hand. He didn't dare look at it, his confusion shaking him to his core.

He needed a cigarette.

He needed his gym.

He needed his gun range.

He needed a good spar.

Hell, what he really thought he needed was a double shot of Svedka on the rocks, withhold the cranberry. He was lost. He was left without a paddle up shit creek.

So he waited outside the car. As her cries slowly quieted, so did his anxiety. With shaky breaths Bash tried to regain his composure. Come on, man, he could do it. He could do it.

He slowly went around to the driver's side door. He opened it delicately.

He gently set the bagged gift in the passenger's seat. He shut his car door and sat in silence, listening to her quiet sobs.

He breathed in deeply, closing his eyes, trying to school the pained expression on his features, trying to get the tone of his voice under control. When he parted his lips he licked them before speaking, realizing suddenly that they felt really dry:

"It appears that something happened to you between the surplus store and the fitting room. Forgive me...Your Grace, but I regrettably admit that I am at a loss at what that could be. I," - Bash paused and exhaled shakily. - "I can tell many things with you, Mary, but it's never been your mind or your heart. I can't understand things if you don't tell me what I'm missing."

Mary sat there, rubbing at her face roughly as she listened to his words. He didn't understand, that was an understatement of the century right now. But she had to tell him, perhaps she could find it easier to do this.

Fuck.

She took a shaky breath, focusing her gaze on the floor as she tried to breathe in to calm her own racing heart. "Jealousy...I was jealous of you and that stupid sales woman. Does that make it easier on you? My jealousy took me over and won...the fact that...I couldn't outright claim to have feelings for you...the fact that I can't reach out and hold your hand and claim you as mine!"

Her chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, as her body shook slightly. What she wouldn't give to have him drive someplace secluded so she could throw herself into his arms, and try and find some relief from her crazed emotions.

"But those emotions...those feelings of mine are not good to have! I can't lay claim to you, I can't scream out to the stupid sales women of the mall that I love you! No because it would bring shame upon our houses as you've stated to me! So how could I possibly hide my jealousy other than storming out of the store without buying a dress?! Don't you get it?"

She couldn't bring herself to lift her gaze, the sobbing has ceased but her words were very pained in all of this, she was pained in all of this.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Words unbecoming of a Queen as her mother had once said, but she could care less if they were, it was how she felt.

"I love you Sebastian! I want to let everyone know, I want to claim you as mine! I don't want anyone else to have you! How else can I put it?! I've taken everything I am, my title, my name, my livelihood! I'm throwing it all down the drain to tell you that I love you!"

Screams, or were they becoming sobbed words? She couldn't tell anymore.

"I would give it all up and more...to have you at my side in an open way, but that will never happen..." She stated, shaking her head as she tried to compose herself, finding it sorely failing.

"Please...just get me back to the castle so I can bury my face in a pillow...so I can pretend that I don't hurt as much as I do!" She pleaded, her eyes swollen and red from her own crying and sobs of hysteria over the whole mess.

How deeply she wished to get out of the car, or rather him get out of the car and throw open her door and pull her into his arms. But that wouldn't happen, she was holding onto a dream if she ever thought he would do something like that. Protocol was in place for such a thing, and for her to fall in love with him was simply nothing that could be allowed. It wouldn't look good on her arranged marriage to Francis, for the sake of her country.

But damn it all, she wouldn't live this lie, she would go to the king himself and tell him that she no longer wished to wed Francis. That she could find another way for Scotland to survive in the trying times ahead.

Bash blinked slowly, processing. After some time, Bash sighed. He reached over and grabbed the tissues, placing in the back seat on the floor where he could reach.

"Please stop crying."

Wordlessly, Bash started the car. As he pulled out the parking lot, his jaw flexed.

Bash said, a frown in his brows, "I never said that your feelings were shameful. I've also never said that us being together would prove impossible."

Mary stared at the box of tissues, shaking her head as she pulled her legs up onto the seat and wrapped her arms around them. She didn't want to answer that, but knew that if she didn't it would prove very unwise for her.

"Could we...just go and talk somewhere...somewhere nobody will see us or hear us? I just...think that this isn't doing any good...we can't talk like this..." She said, reaching down and grabbing a tissue and wiping her eyes.

A sigh escaped her lips as she dabbed at her eyes, lifting her gaze to look up towards the rearview mirror. "Can we...just try and figure this out." She said, keeping her arms wrapped around her legs and up against her chest.

Bash had to breathe in and out through his nose again. He felt his heart in his throat.

"We can't - I can't."

Mary heard the words, but she didn't register that they were about stopping. She felt her heart seemingly thud within her chest, as she pulled her legs up against herself tighter, another small choke sound escaping past her lips.

"O-of course...b-back to the castle...we...can't..." She said, speaking in regards to them of course, and not understanding that perhaps his words meant differently.

She hugged her legs closer, burying her face in the top of her knees as she sniffed, feeling the tears slipping down her cheeks.

Bash remained quiet. He couldn't think of anything he could say then, not while he was on duty. And she seemed to understand, even if she was disheartened. They could talk back at home, after hours, he was sure.

But even though he believed this, he could hardly stop watching her through his review mirror.

The ride back to the castle was agonizingly long.

He slowly pulled into the castle's long, winding driveway. He drove directly in front of the castle's front steps and placed the Altima in park. Unease settled over him as he sat there beside her. He didn't know what to say.

"We have arrived, Your Grace." His voice was so loud to his ears.

Mary sat there numbly, lowering her legs to the ground and undoing the seatbelt. She opened the backdoor, nodding her head once. "Thank you..."

She exited the car, making her way quickly inside and straight to her room. She knew he knew the way, should he wish to talk, and her room was always private enough to speak in. There were many places within the castle, perhaps she could even sneak out again.

When she reached her room, she entered and closed the door behind her. She threw her purse down onto the small couch by the fireplace, and removed her coat doing the same. She kicked off her flats and threw herself down onto her bed, clinging to her pillow for support.

"Why...did I have to even bring it up...?" She whispered against her pillow, sniffing lightly as she laid there feeling the staining of her own tears against her pillowcase. She hadn't even seen him open her gift, and she hoped that he would at least like it. She had seen him eyeing it in one of his magazines on one of their trips, and she had thought it would be the perfect gift for him.