Much thanks to Whimsyfox, who made my unruly thoughts intelligible!
Alex needed a break. She was tired of jumping between tangibility and superpowers and trying to develop the one without losing the other. Earlier in the day she'd grabbed Tom for a quick snog at work and then turned and walked into a wall. Into—not through—a wall, because she was still hanging onto her tangibility and Tom's hand. He couldn't help laughing, although he shut up quickly enough when she rent-a-ghosted a mound of dirty towels onto his head.
Now he was trying, for the umpteenth time, to remove her tights and Alex just didn't want to deal with it.
"Give it a rest, would you?" she snapped. "I'm tired."
Tom stopped immediately. "Sorry."
The surprise and guilt in his expression were too much for her. "I'm sorry too, Tom, I didn't mean to be mean. I just—I just don't want to fight with it tonight."
"What's going on, Alex? What's wrong?" His concern was obvious in his voice. She'd been on edge lately, and maybe Tom was finally going to find out why.
"I wish I knew." She sat up as she spoke. "I feel—unbalanced. I don't know what I am anymore."
She got out of bed and began walking aimlessly around the room as she tried to put the mess in her head into words that someone else could follow. "Things are happening to me that I don't understand. Things I can't control. I'm changin'. Tangible, not tangible; visible, invisible. I feel like I'm two things at once and everything I'm supposed to be won't fit in one person. I think I'm going mad."
"Doesn't sound mad to me," Tom replied. "Happens to me every month."
His reassuring manner and matter-of-fact tone were such a great relief to Alex that she began to cry. She stood in the middle of the floor with tears running down her face as she released the frustration and fear that she'd kept inside. Tom was instantly with her, arms around her as he held her close.
"It's my fault," he said quietly. "I've been pushin' you too hard. I should've known you'd need time to get used to the changes in yourself. You have to know the wolf to accept the wolf, McNair said. I guess it works wi' other things too." He kissed the tears on her cheek. "I'm sorry Alex. I haven't been thinkin'."
"Don't blame yourself, Tom. How could you know? How could either of us? This is new for us both." Alex wiped the tears from her face as she spoke. She noticed they were actual tears and that she'd left a damp spot on Tom's shoulder.
"Look." She pointed to her tears on his skin. "We don't even know how that happens. Or why, or when it's gonna. How can we be expected to know what to do?"
"I should know, sort of, 'cause I've been changing into something else for as long as I can remember. You've been actin' like I feel when the moon's nearly full. Restless and out-of-focus. Too big to fit in my own skin. Itchy, sort of, like my clothes don't fit right and I can't do nowt about it. Snappish."
"That's how I feel. What do I do now?" Alex sank into the desk chair and looked up at him.
He knelt on one knee in front of her and took her hand. "Nothin', Alex. You do nothin'. You rest, is all. You be what you want to be. Solid when you want. Invisible when you want. Stop tryin' and just be for a while."
"What if 'just being' means I lose it all?"
"You won't. It's part of you now. You just need to relax and get used to it." Tom stood up and stretched. "I'm going back to bed, and I'm asking nothing of ya. You're welcome to join me as always, but you don't need to do anything or prove anything. I won't push ya anymore." He got back into bed.
"You weren't pushing Tom. No more than I wanted you to, anyway. You never have." As Alex spoke, she removed her jacket and boots and slid under the covers on her side of the bed.
"That's not true," Tom said quietly. He turned on his side to look at her, so beautiful in the soft light of their darkened room. So strong, so smart and quick, so fierce, so funny, so graceful. Tom considered himself very lucky to have Alex's affection. She was the most amazing woman he could ever hope to meet. She deserved his honesty.
"I know you've pushed yourself for my sake, and I've let ya. It made me feel important and it flattered me, thinking I meant that much to ya. But it isn't right, Alex. You can't live like that. You have to believe in yourself and be what you want to be, not what ya think I want."
"I wouldn't have much of a life without you, Tom. I want to do everything I can for you. I want—I want you to be proud of me, like I'm proud of you." She started to tear up again as she spoke, and to her surprise, so did Tom.
"I'm already proud of you, Alex. Look at you! You could be hiding in the attic or faded into nothing by now. But you're here, really here, and you do more than any ghost I've ever known, even Annie. She was strong, but I reckon you're even stronger." He rushed his words in the hope that he would get them all out before he lost it. She was proud of him. She loved him and she was proud of him. He couldn't ask for more.
"I want to be a real woman for you, Tom," she whispered.
"You are."
"No, not the way I want to be."
"You're plenty real, 'Lex. I'm not complaining, trust me." He grinned at her as he pushed the hair off her forehead. "I just wish I could do more for you," he added.
"You don't need to. I can taste your pleasure and that's as good as anything I've ever known. Better than some." She said the last more to herself than to him. "But what if that's what's stoppin' me? Maybe I shouldn't try to be tangible and use superpowers at the same time."
"I use the wolf," Tom said simply. "It's part of me and I use it just like I use my hands and feet. No different for you. Your superpowers are part of you. Tangibility is part of you too, now."
"Sometimes when you kiss me I can feel it, and sometimes I can't," she said quietly. "Sometimes I think it's just an echo of other kisses."
"I know."
"I'm not sure which is me, the woman who kisses you back or the ghost who wishes she could. I know which I'm supposed to be, but that's not what I want to be. What if I can't have both? What if being stuck in the middle is the best I'll ever get?"
"That's why you need to rest. You worry too much. Just rest, it'll be okay." Tom found himself stroking her hair and soothing her as if she were a child.
"What if it isn't?"
"You're with me, Alex. That's what matters. As long as you're wi' me, everything's okay." He gave her an absent-minded kiss, and she responded without thinking. It felt perfect. It felt real.
"Remember when we started all this?" he asked. "It was fun. You don't enjoy it anymore, and I miss that. I know it's work, but it should be fun, too. Take a break for a while. Don't do anything that isn't fun, okay?"
"Okay, Tom. I know what you're saying."
"Goodnight, love." Tom spoke with a gentle smile as he closed his eyes. Within a few moments he was asleep.
Alex watched him for a long time that night. She watched him as she wrestled with the fear of losing him and of losing the carefully-constructed world she was building with him. She watched him as she looked within herself at the ugly selfish part that wanted to keep him forever because of how it felt to be loved and cherished by him. She watched his chest rise and fall and wept for the children she would never give him and the emptiness at her core.
When he turned in his sleep she traced the marks of the wolf along the back of his head and whispered that he had made the wrong choice, that Allison was better. He caught her hand and nestled it in his own against his chest, drawing her to him with a smile. His strong heartbeat resonated through her like a bell; her fear crumbled and the arguments within her ceased. Here was her answer.
She would be with Tom. Whatever form her being took, she would be with him. She would play with him and work with him, laugh and cry with him, stand and sit and lie down with him, and if she was still here when he died she would go through his door with him into whatever came next. And if the evil Morris dancers tried to stop her, well, they'd have a fight on their hands!
Tom was alone when his alarm rang. Alex's absence was the first thing he noticed, even before he was conscious enough to slap his alarm and shut off the din. He had a brief moment of panic that she may have left during the night, or that her door had come, or that the men with sticks and ropes had found a way to reach her. Then he smelled bacon cooking.
Alex was sitting at the kitchen table using her superpowers to fix breakfast without touching a thing. She grinned at him as he strode into the room. She'd heard him tromp down the stairs with all the subtlety of an elephant and was already pouring his tea. She levitated the mug into his hand as he stared at her.
"Mornin' Tom," she said calmly. "Sleep well?"
He took the mug and joined her at the table. "Mornin'. I slept well, you?"
"Didn't sleep at all, but then I don't need to. One of the perks of being a ghost." She casually levitated the toast from the toaster and began to butter it, directing the activity with her mind. "Bacon's about done. Want eggs?"
"Sounds great. Just a couple of days till the full moon, so you know I'm hungry." Tom tried to be as casual about things as Alex, but he felt like he was suddenly in the middle of a Disney cartoon watching a magic spell at work all around him. He expected the salt and pepper to burst into song at any moment.
She flipped the bacon onto paper towels to soak up the grease, turned down the heat, pulled three eggs from the fridge, and cracked them into the skillet. All accomplished with a steady look and a couple of waves of her hands, just for added effect.
"I've been thinkin' about that. I want to come with you when you transform," she said. "I know you've been doin' it forever, but it worries me to see you go. I'd rather go with you so I know you're safe."
"I thought you didn't like the wolf," Tom said.
"Don't be daft. The wolf's part of you, so of course I like it. Although, we've not been properly introduced, so I can't say how much I like it. Maybe this month, yeah?" She brought the toast and bacon to the table and turned the eggs. Tom liked his with just a bit of soft yolk.
"The wolf don't do introductions, so to speak," Tom said. "The transformation can be scary for someone who isn't used to it. Are ya sure you wanna see that?"
"Jesus, Tom, after everything we've been through? One little werewolf isn't going to scare me," Alex scoffed as she delivered Tom's eggs to his plate. "Eat your breakfast, you silly man, and stop worrying. I'm not a fragile little thing. I'm a woman, and women are tougher than men. Thought you knew that by now."
She watched him tuck into his breakfast, and when he was finished she got up, planted a kiss firmly on the top of his head, and began the washing up. In this case the washing up consisted of Alex hopping onto the counter and orchestrating the activity while dishes, hot water, and fairy liquid all did as they were told.
"I didn't bother cooking for Hal and Lena," she said as she watched her inanimate workers go about their chores. "No telling when they'll make it out of their bedroom. Still on their honeymoon, I guess."
Tom and Alex had decided to call it that because they didn't know what else to say about their housemates' behavior since their return from the Bangor Cathedral. Hal and Lena had barely made it out of their room for meals and a quick hello, and they couldn't keep their hands off each other. Something had developed in their relationship, that was for sure. Tom said that they'd gone to church and gotten married, or as close to married as a vampire and a Nephilim could get. Alex agreed that it looked like it to her, too.
"The hotel's nearly done and we still don't have a plan for that one section," Tom grumbled over his tea. "I don't know if they even care."
"I know they talk about it, and they've looked at plans and such, but it doesn't seem that important to them," Alex agreed. "Maybe you should just decide what to do and get on with it."
"You think I should?" The idea had occurred to Tom, but he wasn't sure he should overstep his bounds like that.
"I think if you want it done, you're going to have to. Let's get their most recent notes together and take them with us today. Bill Harriman is coming by for a progress check. We can talk to him about it."
"Good idea. Breakfast was great, Alex, thanks." Tom gave her a sincere smile of appreciation. She practically knew him by heart and made his life much better because of it. Everything from how he liked his eggs to how much he wanted the hotel to succeed; Alex was his best friend and ally through it all.
She shrugged off his compliment. "Easy peasy, Tom. I didn't even break a sweat." She hopped off the counter. "I'll get the stuff together while you finish your tea, yeah?" She walked through the swinging doors into the dining room and Tom watched her go with a shake of his head. She walked through the doors like they weren't even there, and she sent an extra swing of her hips and flip of her skirt in his direction as she went, just to tease him a bit. Alex had her mojo back.
# # #
Lena was sprawled on the bed, her hair damp with sweat, her chest heaving gently from extended exertion.
"We can't spend our lives with you buried in my crotch," she said.
"I beg to differ," was Hal's muffled reply.
"Hal, come on. We're supposed to be on a conference call in-" she glanced at the clock "-shit! Half-an-hour ago!"
"You have 500 years of celibacy behind you, my lady. Conference calls can wait while we catch you up." He raised his head briefly to leer at her before resuming his activities.
"I didn't expect you to be so—unrelenting—in your effort to catch me up," she gasped. "You'd think you're the one—who's been celibate."
"I've merely been practicing so I can please you effectively," he replied as he moved his kisses up her body. He eased the head of his erection into her waiting vagina. "Speaking of buried—" he murmured in her ear as he thrust into her.
She couldn't help crying out. The rush of ecstasy combined with the perfect completeness of their joining was too much to bear quietly. She was empty and unfinished without him, full and whole with him. He was no longer just her partner, he was part of her and he was necessary to her in ways she didn't understand. It frightened her.
"Why are you—so determined?"
"You have yet to glow for me again," he said. "Glow for me," he whispered in her ear. He thrust again. "Glow and I'll leave you alone, for a while at least." His words devolved into a wicked chuckle as he felt her heave against him in time with his thrusts.
"It's not—that simple," she panted.
"Then I must persist until I discover the secret."
She twisted in the grip of her climax. "Sweet Jesus!"
"Wrong on both counts."
"Insufferable bastard!"
"Flatterer."
"God I wish—I could break your—neck again!"
He laughed outright, then stared intently into her eyes as he felt his own climax approach. He wanted her to see the building intensity of his own desire. He smiled down at her, she returned his smile, and suddenly they were allies again. They focused on each other and themselves at once because it was all the same thing. 'You' and 'me' were gone, and there was only 'us' on the bed. She barely maintained enough control to keep from glowing again. It had become a constant struggle.
They rested a few minutes together in quiet contentment. When Hal pulled away from her to slide down on the bed, she protested.
"No, don't leave. Stay here with me."
"I'm not leaving," he said as he paused in the grip of her clinging hands. He looked torn. She became suspicious. He'd said their combined fluids tasted as good as blood, but his focus on her lady parts was still too intense.
"What's going on? Hal, talk to me."
He sighed and came back to her, turned onto his back, and pulled her into a hug. She laid her head on his shoulder and waited for him to speak. She noticed that he was holding her in a way that made it hard for her to watch his face.
He took the hand she had resting over his heart and held it with his own as he began carefully.
"When a vampire drinks blood…when I drink blood, I don't just drink blood. I drink the life of my victim. I can taste it, especially in the hot blood of a freshly-caught, healthy human. Life so potent and powerful that I get drunk on it, I forget what I am, I feel invincible."
She nodded. "I think I knew that about vampires. Or maybe it just sounds reasonable. Lots of cultures have myths about the power of blood. In your case it isn't a myth, it's true I guess."
"Yes," Hal agreed. He thought for a moment before continuing.
"I have discovered something that carries life with almost the same potency as blood. It is specific to women, and most especially to you. The lubrication you create during arousal. I—I enjoy it because I feel your life in it and it energizes me, it makes me feel more alive."
"Aha. Well, that answers a question." She set her chin on his chest and looked at him. "I didn't think you'd suddenly gotten unselfish since becoming a vampire. Not really your nature."
He had the decency to look uncomfortable. "I do my best to please you, but no, my activities are not without selfish motives."
"So why the after-sex thing? You're so into it. Does that make a difference?"
"Yes, for some reason it is even more potent in our combined solution. I don't know why. There's certainly no life in me unless you've managed to put it there." He sighed and sat up to once again avoid looking at her. When he spoke, it was with heart-breaking sadness.
"I am a dead thing addicted to life. I have no life to offer, only death, yet I cling to this obscenity of an existence at the expense of others. I use others to sustain myself, and I use you, once again, for my own pleasure. I use you, use us, to give myself a brief pretense at life. I know it is a lie, yet I cannot resist." He sat stiffly, waiting for her response to his confession.
She sat up and rested a hand gently on his shoulder. When he didn't respond she leaned against him and slid her arms around his chest. She set her cheek on his shoulder and waited. He slowly relaxed against her.
"My dear man," she said quietly, "I am happy to give you whatever semblance of life I can in whatever form you need. You think yourself a dead creature and an obscenity, but you are very much alive to me and I'm glad you're in my life. Nothing you say to me will change that."
"My god, how I love you." He shuddered with the intensity of his emotions as he choked over the words he didn't mean to speak. Her kindness startled him into confessing the truth.
When she didn't reply he stiffened against her and pulled away. She's supposed to say it too. Why doesn't she say something? Fuck! He misunderstood, he screwed it up! Hal was nauseous as he turned toward her. Scared to read her eyes. He shouldn't have worried—they were squeezed closed and her face was frozen into a frown. He threw himself off the bed and stalked out of the room.
Two solid hours of calisthenics and countless miles on the exercise bike didn't make Hal feel any better. Based on Lena's reaction, he'd said the one thing she least wanted to hear.
He needed to run, to drive, to disappear and never return. He needed to burn the house to ashes with them in it. He needed to cry. He needed blood, rivers of it, oceans of it, to drown himself and make him forget her. Make him forget the stupid wasted months of love and hope, the smell and taste and touch of her, the sound of her voice and the sight of her moving in the world as if she owned it. As if she owned him. Because she did, and she always would.
So he wouldn't leave, and he wouldn't kill, and he wouldn't drink blood because more than any of those things he needed her. Suddenly Hal felt like a child again, clinging to the skirts of women who didn't love him, looking for approval in the faces of mothers who wouldn't claim him. He was helpless again, trapped by circumstances and his own weakness. He was Lena's what? Friend? Lover? Plaything? Experiment? He had to know. He couldn't live without knowing; he would face the truth, whatever it was, and find some kind of strength in it.
She was in the studio. He'd go and demand the truth from her. Wait, she was coming to him. Oh shit, now what?
Hal was just pulling a shirt over his head when Lena knocked on his door. It was ajar but she didn't want to intrude. She entered when he bid her to, and she waited quietly while he adjusted the shirt over his sweat-sheened torso and dropped into his leather armchair.
"I would speak with you," she said softly, as if she were a courtier approaching a king.
"As you wish," he replied in a neutral tone. He assumed she was going to explain to him that she wanted to be friends, or friends with benefits as it was called nowadays, but nothing more. He braced himself to remain calm and unaffected by her words.
"You know that I can sense evil. Well, it works both ways," she said.
"What do you mean?" This certainly wasn't what Hal had expected to hear from her, but she had definitely piqued his curiosity.
"When I manifest, evil can sense me." She gave him a minute to consider the implications of her statement before coming closer and sitting on the floor in front of his chair.
"I have enemies Hal, very powerful enemies, on the dark side of existence. I'd been pretty quiet for the past few centuries, so they might have forgotten about me. But lately I've drawn attention to myself and I'm sure my activities have served as a reminder that I'm still here."
"Activities? Would that be your destruction of whole city blocks and rampant slaughter of evil-minded men? Yes, I'm sure those activities were noticed in most parts of existence." Hal heard a touch of sarcasm in his voice as he spoke. She was pulling him from his neutrality and engaging him beyond what he should allow. He should be more mindful of himself.
"That's some of it, yes," she admitted with a reluctant smile.
"Would those activities also include opening a portal to hell and challenging the devil?" A neutral tone of voice again. Good, he thought.
"Yes, that probably got me noticed as well," she acknowledged with a slight wince. "It's not just that. Any manifestation can be sensed by an immortal creature with enough sensitivity. When I healed that bricklayer, when we fought the vampires, when we danced in the Cathedral; those actions could have drawn attention to me. To us."
"My nemesis, Lucifer, will have spies lurking about now that he knows where to find me. He'll be looking for a weakness, a way to hurt me. When I glowed—well, I hope it wasn't noticed, but if it was, it probably pissed him off to no end that I was so happy."
"Are you in danger? Should you leave, move somewhere else?" Hal thought he understood what she was saying. She had exposed herself through her efforts to help him. She'd put herself at risk.
"I don't think I'm in any real danger, but my family could be. That's what worries me," she said quietly. "Hal, you've seen enough of my world to know that intangible things become tangible. I need to explain something to you without actually explaining it, because the words themselves are dangerous. Words have power, especially when spoken by an immortal. When truth is spoken it is released into the world and no longer belongs just to the speaker. That truth can be used as a weapon, and I'm trying desperately to make sure that doesn't happen."
"All right." Hal had seen a necromancer attempt to cast a spell, so he thought he had a sense of what she meant. He hadn't put much stock in the words themselves at the time, but in Lena's world anything was possible.
She continued. "I believe that Lucifer's greatest weakness, that evil's greatest weakness, is the inability to comprehend the power of goodness in the world. Lucifer doesn't understand compassion, hope, or love, so those things have limited value to him. He cannot inherently recognize them, but he knows how to exploit them in others when he discovers their presence. Human history is full of examples to prove that. In my case it's best if he doesn't discover those things in my life."
"But those are the most powerful elements of your nature. I could tell when I looked into you. How can you hide that?"
"I can't and I don't intend to. My nature is known by all who have dealt with me. What I can do is make sure those parts of my nature aren't used against me. Look Hal, let's say for example that I hated lima beans. Let's say that I made it very clear that I hated lima beans and that the worst thing in the world someone could do to me would be force-feed me lima beans. If my enemy wanted to torture me, what do you suppose would happen?"
"You'd get tied up and fed lima beans?"
"Yes. Because I gave away my secret. I admitted my weakness, so it could be used against me."
"You like lima beans. In fact, I can't think of a vegetable you don't like. Wait, is this another American colloquialism? I don't recognize it."
She sighed. Hal's confusion was apparent and she'd done a lousy job of explaining herself. "No, it's not a colloquialism. Look, just give it some thought, okay? I can't go into it any further." She stood up. "I'm sorry."
"I will do my best to think it through, my lady," he said as he watched her. She was nearly out the door before he spoke again. "I wonder. Should I sleep in here from now on? Do you want distance between us?"
"That's the last thing I want," Lena said wearily, "but I know I've hurt your feelings, so you should do what you think is best for yourself. I'm going to start supper. Tom and Alex will be home soon."
After she went downstairs Hal realized that she hadn't addressed his confession or her reaction to it, unless her oblique conversation was somehow supposed to do so. That must be what she intended; it would be unlike Lena to let such a thing go unresolved. But what on earth could Lucifer and lima beans have to do with whatever was happening, or not happening, between the two of them?
Hal decided to shower and join her in the kitchen. He could go over her words again while he let the hot water work the kinks out of his sore muscles, and he was ready for a cup of tea. Maybe he could think of a few carefully-worded questions to ask Lena that would help him sort things out.
He was absently scrubbing the same spot on his chest for the third time when it came to him. Lena didn't hate lima beans, she loved lima beans. Torture for her would be taking her lima beans away.
That's what she meant when she said she was worried about her family; she didn't want her family taken away. They could be hurt because of her and she could be hurt through them, if an enemy thought she cared about them too much. He, Tom and Alex were Lena's lima beans and she didn't dare say it. What's more, Hal discovered that he was happy to be Lena's lima bean because it meant she loved him.
Hal waltzed into the kitchen and swept Lena into a quick spin around the room before releasing her again.
"Is there tea? What's for supper? Do you want help?" He was happy, confident, rustling through the cupboard for his tea things while checking to see what she'd been doing.
Lena stood in front of the stove and gaped at him, flummoxed, alfredo sauce forgotten, until he swung past her on his way to start the kettle and leaned in to whisper in her ear.
"I love lima beans too."
She jumped as relief and joy swept through her and she nearly cried out, but Hal put a finger to his lips.
"Shhhh," he said with eyebrows arched over laughing hazel eyes.
She automatically raised a finger to her own lips and mimicked him. "Shhhh." A grin spread across her face. "I really love lima beans," she whispered.
"Good, because if you burn the alfredo sauce that may be all we have for supper." Hal answered glibly but he was grinning just as much as she was, and he swooped in to hug her as she stirred the sauce.
They were still grinning at each other like idiots when Tom and Alex got home from work, but they'd finished supper and set the table for four. They were civilized adults, after all, and could certainly manage an evening meal with their housemates without collapsing into giggles or leaping onto each other like animals in heat. With any luck.
Tom decided to take advantage of their good humor to explain the decisions he and Alex had made regarding the last piece of the hotel renovation. He jumped right in by pointing out bluntly that the decision had to be made by someone and the job needed to get started or the grand re-opening would be delayed. Lena and Hal quickly agreed that they'd neglected their duties in that regard so Tom got over his discomfort and laid out the new plan, with a few prompts from Alex.
Tom never could get his head around the boutique hotel idea and he agreed with Hal that the market for it was limited in Barry. To be honest, Tom couldn't see himself managing the kind of place Bill Harriman had suggested and he didn't want someone else to take part of his building away. When he reviewed their notes, he was relieved to see that Hal and Lena had moved away from that idea as well. They had a framework for a more private, less family-oriented hotel experience, and Tom had expanded on that framework.
The Barry Grand would have a honeymoon section, of sorts; Tom called it the Barry Grand Plush. The name might need work but the idea was sound: two-room suites for couples who wanted to visit an upscale hotel with extra amenities. The current floor plan had single rooms, each with its own small bathroom. Two bathrooms sat between each pair of bedrooms, smaller squares stacked between the larger ones. The two bathrooms would be combined into one large bathroom with whirlpool tub and separate couple-sized shower. A dressing room would connect the private space of the bedroom with the sitting room in each suite. Comfortable furniture and a small kitchen area would give couples the option of preparing meals or having them brought up from the hotel kitchen and served by hotel staff. Meals could be delivered to the suite without intruding upon the intimacy of the bedroom.
The renovation would include sound-deadening materials between the suites and along the corridor so each suite would be as private as possible. That was Alex's idea, although Tom fervently approved. In fact, they wished for the same thing at Honolulu Heights, specifically surrounding Hal and Lena's rooms.
Furnishings and fabrics would be richer than in the rest of the hotel, but not so sumptuous that normal blokes would be scared to use them, in Tom's words. He wanted the Plush area to be comfortable for real people who wanted a special treat for themselves and their loved ones. There would be sound systems with satellite radio in each suite, because music had become such a part of their lives since Lena came to the B&B that they couldn't imagine living without it.
Tom had even figured out how to have part of the new garden area set aside for the Plush guests, with trellises and screens to provide several secluded nooks that could only be accessed from a private exit at the end of the corridor in that section of the hotel. He understood the value of suitable outdoor space.
The plan was well-thought-out and immediately approved by Lena and Hal, who were impressed by Tom's ideas and his ability to take over the project and make it his own. Tom gave Alex due credit as his partner in all things and this project in particular. They'd worked so closely together that they could hardly tell whose ideas were whose at this point.
The discussion lingered over tea and dessert until Tom was satisfied that all questions had been answered and the Grand Plush was good to go. Except for the name, of course. He could see by the look on Hal's face that his name for the new section might not make it to the grand re-opening. Well, let him come up with a better one, then, Tom thought. He's got plenty of fancy words in his head. Might as well put some of them to use.