Author's Notes: Thank you all for continuing to read and your kind comments.
Chapter 24
Maeve and Otis sat side-by-side at the Milburn kitchen table while Jean sat opposite them, finishing the final morsel of her meal.
Otis leant over the serving platter and sliced the last remaining piece of cod into two and moved the slightly larger piece to Maeve's plate and the slightly smaller one to his own.
"I really like this," Otis said. "I'm going to have to make it again."
"You've never made it before?" Maeve asked, surprised.
"First time," Otis said and took a bite.
"The way you were breezing through the recipe, I thought you'd done it dozens of times," Maeve said and took her own bite.
"I had a good assistant. She made it easier."
"I will repeat myself. Otis is an excellent cook," Jean remarked proudly.
"He is," Maeve agreed, looking at her then turning to Otis. "You are."
"You thought last Saturday was a fluke?" Otis smirked.
"Noooo," Maeve said, smirking and dragging out the word to just the right length.
"So, would you care for dessert, Maeve, while we're watching a movie?" Jean asked. "We have strawberry ice cream, strawberry shortcake."
"More strawberry cheesecake," interjected Otis.
"Strawberry roulade," continued Jean. "Or I think we have the ingredients to make strawberry trifles."
Maeve turned to look at Otis who was carefully studying the last piece of cod before putting it into his mouth. She smiled tenderly at him then turned to Jean.
"You know, I don't think I ever actually told muppet I really like strawberry," she said.
"I'm sure you must have done," murmured Otis.
"Or there's chocolate ice cream or caramel, if you prefer," offered Jean. "Or banana."
Otis and Maeve glanced at each other then looked away, softly smirking.
"What?" Jean asked.
"Um…" hummed Maeve.
"Just something at the party Maeve and I went to," murmured Otis, awkwardly.
Maeve hurriedly held out her hand toward Jean. "Not what you're probably thinking," she said. "Well, not quite."
Jean frowned and looked at Otis questioningly. Otis glanced at Maeve who pressed her lips together and shook her head.
Otis sighed and Maeve reached out to gently rub his shoulder as he awkwardly said, "Someone at the party was demonstrating with two girls how to perform fellatio and…"
"And one of the girls bit the end off their banana," Maeve said.
"Ouch," murmured Jean.
"And then…" continued Otis, struggling for the words before they suddenly came to him. "What's dad's favourite movie?"
Jean thought for a moment then pressed her lips together to prevent a so-totally-inappropriate laugh from escaping. "Mr Creosote?"
"Mr Creosote," affirmed Otis. "It was like a round robin." He twirled his fingers in the air in demonstration.
Maeve scrunched her face and turned to Otis. "Who's Mr Creosote?"
"Monty Python," said Jean. "The Meaning Of Life. Mr Creosote is a…-" She turned to Otis and reached into her memory. "-paean to emesis, I think your father said."
Maeve shuddered. "So what movie are we watching?" she asked.
"Well, Otis told me you really like romantic comedies, so tonight it's a choice between Arnold Schwarzenegger in a torrid relationship with an alien predator or Arnold Schwarzenegger and Robert Patrick fighting for the attention of Linda Hamilton and her child."
Maeve looked quizzically at Jean who pointed at Otis and said, "Those were his descriptions."
Maeve pursed her lips and turned to Otis, rolling her eyes and shaking her head at him.
"No," said Jean, "our choices were going to be Music & Lyrics with Hugh Grant and Drew Barrymore or Notting Hill with Hugh Grant and Julia Roberts but if you'd prefer something else…"
"I really like Drew Barrymore," Maeve said.
"Music & Lyrics, it is," said Jean and stood and started to gather the plates to clean the table. Otis and Maeve rose from their seats and began to help her.
"Now, I should point out," began Jean, "that it was entirely inappropriate for us to laugh at the individuals involved in that unfortunate event at that party. It would have obviously been a traumatic and embarrassing experience for them and—"
Jean stopped as a flash of understanding struck her. "Oh, is that why Eric wouldn't have a taste of my banana daquari."
Tears ran down Drew Barrymore's face as Hugh Grant sat at the piano on-stage and sang "Don't write me off just yet."
Otis glanced down at the top of Maeve's head as she lay curled into him, their legs stretched along the footstool he had again dragged over to the lounge.
He leaned his head down and whispered, "If you're going to vomit can you please face the other direction?"
Maeve flapped her hand against his chest and murmured, "Shut up," desperately trying to conceal a sniffle.
When only the rolling credits were on-screen, Jean sighed contentedly and said, "I rather enjoyed that."
"I didn't mind it," said Otis. "Though I think I still prefer Four Weddings And A Funeral."
"Ah, well, not everything can reach those heights," Jean said. "Did you enjoy it, Maeve?"
"Hmm-mmm," Maeve hummed, nodding her head gently as she still lay curled into Otis.
Otis looked down at her with soft surprise. "Are you really crying, Maeve?" he murmured.
"No." Maeve tried to surreptitiously wipe the tears from her eyes with the ball of her hand and knew she had failed.
Jean rose from her chair. "I'm going to make myself a hot cocoa and go to bed. Would either of you like a cup? Or hot chocolate? Chamomile tea?"
"I should be going," said Maeve, preparing to extricate herself from Otis' embrace.
Otis placed his hand gently on her arm and asked, "Do you want to stay tonight?" He looked at his mother. "Is it okay if Maeve stays tonight?"
"Of course," Jean murmured.
"I can make up the bed in the downstairs spare if you need the space," Otis said. "My bed's so small."
"No, your bed's fine," murmured Maeve.
"Sorry, I just know women sometimes may need a bit of space at this part of the menstrual cycle."
Maeve felt a raw tenderness in her throat and tenderly stroked his cheek. "I don't need space from you tonight."
"You'll stay?"
"Yeah," she nodded.
"So hot chocolate? Chamomile?" Jean asked.
"Chamomile sounds nice," said Maeve, again preparing to extricate herself from Otis' embrace. "I'll help."
"Oh, no," said Jean, gently holding up her hand. "I'll make it and bring it out. Otis?"
"Hot chocolate, thanks, mum," said Otis.
"Shan't be long," said Jean as she left the room.
Otis gently kissed Maeve's hair. "Did you really like the movie?"
"Yeah, I did," Maeve said quietly.
"I thought you said rom-coms made you sick?" Otis gently teased.
"I told you. I either get silly or I get like this."
He kissed her hair again. "Weepy Maeve," he murmured.
Maeve snorted. "Better than Cranky Maeve."
"Oh, you're not Cranky Maeve."
"Who am I then?"
"Determined Maeve. Super-Smart Maeve. Warrior Maeve. "
"Scary Maeve."
"Kind Maeve. Patient Maeve. Brave Maeve."
"Gorgeous Maeve?" she said with a soft smile in her voice.
Otis hissed in a gentle breath. "Gorgeous Maeve."
"Sexy Otis."
They lay in a comfortable silence for a few moments then Maeve noticed Otis tense a little.
"You do realise when I say gorgeous I mean everything about you is gorgeous, don't you? I'm not just talking about the physical envelope."
"Physical envelope?" asked Maeve and the grimace in her voice was clear.
"It's something I read or heard. We're all just meat and bone and water contained by a physical envelope."
Maeve pushed herself away from him and twisted to look at him.
"You think a clump of meat and bone and water held in a physical envelope is gorgeous?"
"It's a very attractive envelope if that's not objectification."
Maeve gently patted his chest. "You'd almost pulled tonight, muppet, but you blew it." She started to rise to her feet. "I'm going out for a ciggy."
Otis gently touched her hand and she turned to look at him.
"I'll still make up the downstairs bed, just in case you change your mind," he said, softly.
"Oh, you don't have—"
"It's not a bother."
Maeve pressed her lips together and showed her appreciation with her eyes. "Thanks."
Otis watched her walk out of the room then he rose and started to walk to the linen closet.
Otis lay stretched along his bed, laptop on his stomach, studying the screen. He looked up as the door opened and Maeve quickly stepped through and closed it behind herself, her hair still damp from the shower, wearing only dark pants and clutching her previously-worn clothes to her chest.
"Armor-plating's on," she said as she lowered the clothes from her naked chest and walked to her bag which was sitting on the nearest chair.
"What?" asked Otis, confused.
Maeve dropped her clothes onto her bag and patted her pants.
"I call them my armor-plating. Just in case I start to… well, you know…"
Otis was silent and Maeve turned to him.
"Oh, look, I can sleep in the downstairs bed—" she began.
"No, Maeve, no," Otis protested. "It's normal. It's what happens. I was just…"
"What?"
"Do you wear a pad under there?"
"Nup," she said, shaking her head. "Don't need to. They replace both pads and tampons. They're really good and they've never let me down yet. Aimee bought me a couple of pairs for my last being-squeezed-out-of-a-random-vagina-day. Problem is, they're so fucking expensive. I hope I can afford new ones when these ones wear out."
"I can buy you a couple of pairs for your b-sooarv-day," Otis said.
"My what?" asked Maeve, startled.
"First letter of 'being-squeezed-out-of-a-random-vagina' and 'day' on the end."
Maeve scrunched her face as if someone had farted directly under nose.
"Well, it's too long to keep on saying being-squeezed-out-of-a-random-vagina-day," protested Otis. "They wouldn't even be able to fit it on the cake unless it was a really ginormous cake. Hence, b-sooarv-day."
Maeve stared impassively at him for what seemed to him to be an eternity then said with great feigned difficulty, "My b… my b… b… beeeerth… day."
"See, I knew you could do it," said Otis, eyes shining at her.
"Well, at least you're getting a little bit of Silly Maeve," she said with soft relief as she turned back to her bag on the chair, presenting herself in profile to him.
Otis watched as Maeve began finding places for her previously-worn clothes in spaces in her bag.
"This is Silly Maeve?" he asked.
"A little bit of her."
"I think I'm going to love seeing you when you're fully Silly Maeve."
"As long as you don't love her too much more than you love Stroppy Maeve. No," she corrected herself. "You can love Silly Maeve a helluva lot more than you love Stroppy Maeve."
"Silly Maeve and Warrior Maeve and Kick-You-In-The-Teeth-If-You-Say-That-Again Maeve are just aspects of you and I loveyou, Maeve. All of you," Otis said and Maeve felt her nipples harden and a gentle warmth downstairs.
She noticed his tender gaze upon her.
"Stop staring, you perv," she said, a smile flickering across her lips.
"I'm not staring," Otis gently protested. "I'm caressing you with my eyes."
Maeve laughed. "Where the fuck did you pick that one up?"
"Dunno. Think I read it somewhere. Can't remember where."
Maeve sealed the last piece of clothing in her bag then turned toward Otis and straightened her posture and pressed her chest forward.
"So which do you like more? This?"
She turned to present her profile again.
"Or this?"
Otis groaned and scrunched his face. "Oh, Maeve, I don't… I'm not…"
"Why not? I like seeing Jawbreaker in profile when he's awake."
"You make it sound as if you think I'm only interested in your breasts."
"Say 'boobs', Otis."
Otis grimaced. "I've been trying but I've got to admit. I still feel uncomfortable referring to your breasts as boobs."
"Well, I hope you're getting used to me referring to your cock."
"Boobs," Otis murmured, as if he was practicing. "Boobs."
Maeve smirked and walked over to the mirror above the clothing drawers.
"So when I say I like looking at Jawbreaker does that mean you think I'm only interested in your penis?" Maeve asked, glancing at herself in the mirror and fondly recalling Otis recounting his first wet dream about her.
"No," murmured Otis.
Maeve opened the top drawer and glanced across his shirts.
"Is there any of these you're planning on wearing in the next couple of days?" she asked.
"No, you can wear any of them."
Maeve noticed a pattern that intrigued her and lifted a shirt from the drawer. When she held it spread before her, she smiled then stepped away from the mirror so Otis couldn't see and began putting it on.
"I know what you can call them," she said.
"What?" asked Otis, intrigued.
Maeve turned and posed as if in a fashion show. "Squirrels."
Otis laughed and grabbed his laptop before it slipped from his stomach. He placed it on the chair nearby and turned back to face her as she walked towards him, grinning a mile.
"They're actually chipmunks," he said.
"I prefer squirrels," she said as she lay on the bed and curled against him.
Otis looked tenderly at her then suddenly laughed.
"What?" she asked.
"I think Chip's nose is directly over your nipple."
"Is it?" She grinned in surprise.
"May I touch your squirrel to confirm?" Otis asked, formally.
"You may touch Chip's nose to determine whether I have contracted a case of squirrel nipple," she replied, equally as formal.
Otis gently reached over and placed his hand on her breast and gently ran his thumb across Chip's nose. Maeve hummed at the sensation.
"I can confirm that you have indeed contracted a very serious case of squirrel nipple, Ms. Wiley," Otis announced in the same formal voice he had used previously.
Maeve reached out and gently brought his head closer to hers and kissed him tenderly.
"Is this more Silly Maeve?" Otis asked.
Maeve settled down to snuggle against him again. "I am on a rollercoaster today but this… this is the first time I've ever felt a little silly at the same time as weepy."
She began gently running her fingers across his chest.
"I could so get used to this," she murmured.
"What?"
"Dinner with you. Watching a movie. Snuggling up against you in bed."
"This… this is more than I could ever have imagined with you, Maeve."
"I've never felt like this before. Not even with…"
Otis frowned as her voice drifted away. He thought for a moment then realised. "It's okay," he said. "I told you, if there's something you need to say, you can say it. I promise I won't get jealous. Unless you want me to be jealous. Do you want me to be jealous? I'll be jealous if you want me to be jealous."
"Dickhead," Maeve murmured, a fond smile in her voice.
Otis kissed her hair and waited.
"I'm getting mopey again. Stop me being mopey," she pouted.
"Do you want me to tickle you?"
"Dontyoufuckingdare."
"Do you want to listen to some music? Music can help with mopiness."
"Hm-hm," Maeve hummed.
Otis reached over to pick up his phone and Maeve glanced across at the laptop, read the title of the page she was looking at.
"Ten ways to help her during her period," she murmured.
Otis tapped away on his phone. "I'm not pushing, am I? Making you think I think I know more about your period than you do?"
"No."
"Good. I don't want…"
"You're not, muppet. Don't worry about it. You've been amazing."
"How's this?" he asked and tapped his phone and music started playing.
"Who's this?" Maeve asked.
"Sly And The Family Stone."
"Who are they?"
"A group from the sixties."
"You have a lot of old music."
Otis waved his hand at his record collection. "Mum and dad's, remember. I grew up listening to this stuff."
"Different stuff than my mum listened to."
"Do you want me to put on something else?"
"No, this is fine."
"We can listen to your music if you want."
"I like that bit."
"You should see how dad dances to that."
"I'd rather see how you dance to it."
"I told you. I don't dance."
"Liar."
"'Don't ya want to get higher,'" sang Otis. "'Baby, baby, baby, light my fire.'"
"Don't call me baby."
"It wasn't me. It was the song," Otis protested.
"Doesn't matter."
"So is this Mellow Maeve?"
Maeve chuckled to herself. "You really don't know Mellow Maeve."
Otis frowned, not understanding her undertone.
"That makes sense," she murmured to herself. "You've drugged me, haven't you?"
"What?" asked Otis startled.
"Was it in the cod or did your mum slip it into the chamomile?"
"What?"
"No, you must have been doing it ever since you met me at the clinic. You put it in the sandwich, didn't you?"
"What are you talking about?"
"And your mum probably slipped it into the water on Thursday."
"I don't understand—"
"Well, it's the only way I'd be feeling as relaxed as I do around the two of you. I don't feel like I normally do. You must have drugged me. What was it? LSD?"
Otis finally realised what she was talking about and smirked. "Are you hearing colours or seeing sounds?"
"No."
"Proves it wasn't LSD."
"So what was it?"
"Roxy Music."
"Never heard of it."
Smirking to himself, Otis searched his phone then held it up for her to see.
She glanced at the screen and giggled. "Yep. That's it. That's definitely the drug you gave me. Didn't know who sang it."
Otis tapped his phone and the music changed.
"Are you sure I'm not seeing full-blown Silly Maeve?"
"Nothing silly about silly love songs, Milburn."
"You do know some old music."
"Same as you. Mum liked The Beatles."
"That was Wings."
"Whatever."
They lay in silence for a moment, listening to the music then sang in unison, "'Love is the drug for me.'"
"Fuck, you are making me soft, Milburn," Maeve laughed in mock-annoyance.
Day 8
Maeve's eyes slowly opened and gazed blearily around the room and as sleep drifted away from her she frowned at the unfamiliar surroundings until a vague memory of half-stumbling down the stairs and preparing a hot water bottle and curling into the downstairs bed returned to her.
She wondered what time it was and then wondered if the kiss on her cheek and the gently murmured words that she was not able to remember were part of her dream.
She stretched, threw back the covers and sat on the side of the bed, staring around the room. She noticed two doors and remembered the one she came through to get here.
Curious, she rose and walked to the other door, unlatched and opened it and stared out onto a glorious view. She stepped onto the small balcony outside the door, noticing the stairs leading down to the left before drinking in the sight before her.
Wow. What a contrast to looking out the window at the caravan park.
She heard a noise from inside the house and turned, walked back in through the door and latched it behind herself.
As she walked past the bed, she grabbed the hot water bottle and moved into the main part of the house.
When she stepped into the kitchen she saw Jean pick up a clearly-full cup and turn away from the bench and startle at the sight of the younger girl.
"Shit!" expelled Jean.
"Sorry," said Maeve.
Jean placed her free hand against her chest, amused at her own reaction. "You startled me, Maeve. I thought you would have gone to school with Otis."
Shit!
Jean walked over to the kitchen table. "Do you have a late start today?"
Shit shit shit!
Jean sat down and looked up. "Or are you feeling under the weather?"
Shit!
Maeve finally noticed Jean staring quizzically at her about the lack of response.
"Um…" began Maeve. "Um… I'm on suspension for the week," she mumbled.
"Oh?" murmured Jean, taking a sip of her drink.
"At the dance. My brother. He was… he was selling drugs. Just Percocet. But the principal was going to call the cops on him so I said they were mine."
"I see," said Jean, slowly. "Do you think Principal Groff knew they weren't yours?" Jean asked gently.
Maeve bit her lip and clutched the water bottle to herself.
"I'm sure he did know," said Jean with a touch of ice in her voice. "That seems entirely fitting with the behaviour of that man."
Jean noticed Maeve's nervousness and shook her head, waving her hand at the table. "Please sit down, Maeve. I'm not upset with you."
Maeve slowly sat down, unable to look at Jean.
"Would you like me to make you a cuppa?" Jean asked.
"I'll make it," Maeve said, leaping to her feet and escaping to the bench to make her cup of tea.
After a moment of allowing the girl to distract herself with restarting the kettle and grabbing her cup and the teabags, Jean said, "That man should not be allowed to get away with this. The school board—"
"I don't want my brother to get into trouble."
Jean gazed at the girl, a gentle sadness and respect in her eyes. "It was only Percocet. Illegal in these circumstances but—"
"A kid took some and tried to kill himself."
"A boy tried to kill himself at the dance?" Jean asked, shocked.
"We think he took some and he climbed up on the decorations and he was going to kill himself until Otis talked him down."
"Otis talked him down?" Jean asked, even more shocked.
Shit!
"Yeah…"
Jean gazed around the table trying to digest this information.
Maeve turned and saw her and quickly said, "You should have seen Otis, Jean. He was so incredible, telling Liam he couldn't make Lizzie love him because you can't make anybody love you if they really don't love you and he said he knew what it was like when you loved somebody and they didn't love you back and he said there really was going to be someone out there for Liam someday and Liam shouldn't try to kill himself over Lizzie."
Shit!
"Why didn't you and Otis tell me this?"
Shit!
"Maeve…?"
"Liam still hurt himself when he was getting down and Otis blames himself, thinks what he said to Liam put him up there."
Jean tried to grasp the picture. "Otis said something to this boy and then the boy tried to kill himself?"
Shit!
Jean realised she needed a few moments to think. "Finish making your tea, Maeve, and then, please, come and sit down."
Maeve hid herself into making her cup of tea, slowing her movements as much as she could without making it obvious she was doing so. When she finally couldn't delay anymore, she picked up her cup and walked over to the table and sat down and stared into the ripples on top of the liquid until they settled.
"What did Otis say to the boy…?" Jean asked, ending on a querying tone.
"Liam," Maeve said without looking at her.
"Liam," Jean repeated. "What did they talk about?"
"Liam really liked this girl Lizzie and she barely even knew him and he kept making these—" Her tone changed to a sneer. "—Big Romantic Gestures—" Her tone returned to normal. "—but none of them were working and he asked Otis what he could do to make Lizzie go to the dance with him."
"And what did Otis say?" Jean asked, her voice almost preternaturally calm.
"He said it was obvious Lizzie didn't like Liam and that Liam should understand that 'no' means 'no' but Liam's all 'sometimes it means yes' because he's seen all those fucking movies where the guy chases the girl and the girl isn't interested until he does this great big fucking romantic gesture and she swoons in his arms and drags him off behind the canteen to fuck like rabbits."
Shit!
"Why would this boy Liam ask Otis for advice?"
Shit!
Maeve shrugged and took a sip of her tea. "He must have heard that Otis managed to help Jackson get me to be his girlfriend and thought he could do the same for Liam."
"What?"
Shit!
"Doesn't matter," mumbled Maeve.
Shit!
Jean spoke carefully. "So Otis told Liam that 'no' means 'no' and Liam climbed up onto those decorations in an attempt to win over the affections of a girl he had clearly been told was not interested in him? Do I have that correct?"
Maeve nodded.
"Then it clearly was not Otis' fault."
"He doesn't see it that way."
"I'll talk to him tonight."
Shit!
Maeve sipped her tea and seemed to hunch in on herself.
Jean noticed and spoke gently, "I'm not upset with you, Maeve. I'm a little disappointed that Otis didn't tell me himself but I'm not upset with him either."
Maeve kept sipping her tea in silence, not looking at Jean.
Jean glanced at the clock and took a large gulp of her tea and began to rise. "I have to go out in a few minutes but you're more than welcome to stay until you're ready to leave. I don't think you'll steal the furniture."
Otis sat on the wall near the school's front gates silently chewing on his sandwich until Eric nudged him excitedly.
"Here she is," Eric enthused. "Quick. You'll miss seeing. Your vision of delight is approaching."
Otis looked up and watched Maeve approach, carrying her bag, wearing one of his nicer shirts beneath her jacket, giving him a soft smile.
"Good morrow, Maeve," said Eric as she reached them. "You are looking exceedingly pulch… pulchit… pul…"
"Pulchritudinous," murmured Otis out of the side of his mouth.
"Pulk-ree-tood-in-us," said Eric, proud to have reached the end of the word and not caring if he had the correction pronunciation.
Maeve pressed her lips together and dropped her glittering eyes.
"That's not too much, is it?" asked Eric, suddenly concerned.
"No," said Maeve. "Thank you. You're looking really swank yourself. I like your shirt. It's really nice. Really suits you."
"Thank you," Eric preened. "Now, since you haven't seen each other since this morning, I shall leave your lips to get reacquainted."
He picked up his bag and then stopped abruptly.
"Um…" he began, hesitantly.
Maeve smiled at him in a manner she hoped was reassuring. "It's okay, Eric. That sort of thing's okay."
Eric relaxed.
"Just be yourself," she said.
"Well, you two lovebirds don't behave yourselves," he said as he walked away.
"I'll see you later, Eric," Otis called after him.
Maeve plonked herself onto the wall beside Otis and sighed.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"I'm sorry I disappeared last night."
"I guessed where you were."
"Did you come in and say goodbye?"
"Hm-hm," he said. "Do you remember what I said?"
"I thought you said something but I can't remember. What did you say?"
"Well, it would have been a little bit early but now it's a little bit late so…"
Otis reached down beside himself and Maeve leaned forward in curiosity as he picked up a small paper bag and handed it to her.
"I didn't have a chance to wrap it in something. Sorry."
Curious, Maeve opened the bag and took out a cupcake covered in strawberry icing.
"Happy one-week anniversary, Maeve."
Maeve gasped and leant against him, giggling.
"Fucking hell, muppet."
"I'm sorry if that offends your cynical sensibilities."
Still giggling, Maeve leaned up to kiss him.
"I am such a bad girlfriend. I wasn't even thinking."
"Just being with you is my gift."
"Sop," Maeve said and dug her little finger into the icing, holding it out to him.
Otis licked the icing from her finger then kissed it.
Maeve bit into the cupcake.
"I was wishing I'd thought about trying to find a Kermit candle and then I thought about getting them to put a blob of green icing in the centre but they didn't have any."
"Well," Maeve began, putting the cupcake down beside herself. "I do have something for you."
She rummaged in her bag and took out an essay folder, holding it out to him.
"I came straight from your place. Spent all morning finishing that. Thanks for doing this."
"No problem."
Otis took the essay and started to put it in his bag as Maeve began rummaging in her own once more.
"And… I have this."
Maeve held out a key to him.
"Our housekey?" he said and began to check his pocket in alarm.
Maeve shook her head. "Your mum had to go out so she gave it to me in case I forgot something and had to come back."
She waved her hand at him, indicating he should take it.
"No, keep it."
"I can't."
"Keep it."
"Otis…"
"Mum gave it you. Give it back to mum next time you see her. She obviously trusts you with it."
Dubiously, Maeve put the key back into her bag. "She did say if she came back and the furniture was all gone, she knew where to send the fuzz."
"I'll tell them The Untouchables were trying to frame you."
"Now that Aimee's not with them, I have no objection to that."
Maeve took another bite of the cupcake then looked pensive as she chewed and swallowed.
"Otis…?" she said a little nervously.
"What?"
"You know how Adam said your mum was a sexy witch?"
"Yes," said Otis, wondering where this was leading.
"He was right."
"What do you mean?"
Maeve sighed. "I told your mum about the suspension, Sean and the drugs and Liam nearly killing himself if you hadn't saved him."
"Why did you tell her that?" asked Otis, distressed.
"She asked why I wasn't in school and it all came burbling out. Bleurgh bleurgh bleurgh. I couldn't stop myself."
Otis reached into his bag and dragged out his inhaler and took two puffs.
Maeve put the arm with the cupcake around his back and gently ran her free hand across his chest. "Hey, it's okay," she said, soothingly. "She's not mad. She's not mad. She said she's going to talk to you tonight but she's not mad. She doesn't think it's your fault either."
Otis dropped the hand with the inhaler into his lap. "Did you tell her about the clinic?"
"No. I don't think I actually lied to her, but I talked around it."
Otis relaxed a little.
"I'm sorry," murmured Maeve. "I didn't mean to."
Otis sighed and shook his head. "It's not your fault. That's… mum. Did she do that thing where she just stares at you with that completely impassive face without talking until you feel like confessing that you robbed Fort Knox if you had even thought about taking a penny from your piggy bank?"
"I think that specific one is just you, muppet, but yeah, she did a bit of that."
"You had no chance."
"I'm sorry," she murmured.
"You're going to have to tell me exactly what you said so we've got our stories straight."
"Everything else that happened is as it happened but the reason Liam came to you for advice was because he heard that you helped Jackson get me to be his girlfriend."
"Ohhh," Otis groaned. "She knows about that as well?"
"And I'm really pissed off with you about that," she said as she straightened and returned her attention to the cupcake.
"What? Why? I thought-"
"Because I don't want to be pissed off at me."
"What?"
"When I was explaining it to her, it really hit me – I was such a fucking cliché."
Otis softly chuckled. "I'm sorry. Again."
Maeve turned her head and pouted at him. "So you should be."
He gave her a quick peck on the lips then put his inhaler in his pocket and put his arm around her. She snuggled against him.
"I think that's why I hate a lot of Big Romantic Gestures," she said. "Because they're usually in movies where the girl doesn't want the guy but he keeps pushing until he wins her over with the Big Romantic Gesture. And that's just wrong to me. That's why I like the movie last night. They just met and started to work together and fell in love and the Big Romantic Gesture wasn't forced on her. It may have been in public but no-one knew that it was only for her and she had the choice to leave if she wasn't interested."
"That's kind of like us."
"Well, except for me using you to help me get money."
"Oh, Maeve, don't. You never forced me to do the clinic. It was my choice. You were ready to walk away when it didn't seem to work out and I came to you. I wanted to do the clinic with you."
"Only because you wanted to hang around with me."
"We wouldn't be here if it wasn't for the clinic."
Maeve sighed. "Sorry. Mopey Maeve."
Otis sighed. "Don't do that, Maeve. Just enjoy our one-week anniversary together and accept you never forced me into anything."
Maeve finished the cupcake and was silent for a few moments.
"I suppose I should confess since it's our first anniversary," she eventually said.
"What?"
"I lied to you," she said, quietly.
"About what?"
"When I got together with Jackson. It wasn't after you bumped into me."
Otis smiled tenderly down at her. "I can count, Maeve."
"What?"
"Assuming it happened the first time, I thought about how many weeks it could have been prior to meeting you at the clinic. You couldn't have hooked up with Jackson any later than the last week of the hols."
"Last day of last term. Another Aimee party."
Otis hoped he caught the right tone as he said, "I know I said I didn't mind if you say anything if you need to, but I promise I felt a slight twinge of genuine jealousy when you said that."
Maeve raised her head to look at him. "Sorry."
"I didn't say I had a right to be jealous."
"Why didn't you say anything if you knew I lied?"
"I thought you were just playing, had a really big punchline planned."
"You must have been so disappointed."
"The idea that the Universe thinks we're meant to be together is not disappointing."
"That is a nice idea."
"I just can't believe you think I'm that bad at maths."
"Why do you think I told you to let me take care of the business side of things?"
Author's Notes: I made a mistake in an earlier chapter about Maeve hooking up with Jackson after bumping into Otis. I couldn't quite reconcile being that far along in her pregnancy with the timeline for setting up the clinic but I decided to let it go. Until I read a comment on Reddit suggesting S01E01 was not their first time together and that made sense. Even if Maeve was only four weeks pregnant when morning sickness started (unlikely, but possible) it still seemed to me sex with Jackson had to have happened before the start of the season.
The last bit was my attempt to fix that blunder since I don't like making wholesale modifications of published chapters. (Chapter 16 excepted – and that was addition not removal.)
I hope, as always, there was some entertainment.
And let me know if you think I'm making them too soppy. I tried to put some angst in the middle of this chapter but I couldn't make it work. I just want to show them being happy without making it too cloying.
