Decani
Family – Rico
Z&D <3
Posts: 211
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Post by Decani on Dec 18, 2010 11:51:13 GMT 1
A/N: This is on the angsty side and does deal with sensitive topics, I won't lie. It's also a fiction that is nowhere near finished, but I know where it's eventually going to end up and so am unusually optimistic that it will run its course Oh and please say if the tense distracts you. This was only ever meant to be a one-shot but it's mutated uncontrollably since then and I have been considering changing the tense - however, this would mean a lot of editing work! Anyway, without further ado:Small VictoriesZara grits her teeth as another bolt of pain shoots through her skull and she involuntarily dips her head, the intensity of the spasm rendering her momentarily paralysed as her body fights against inconceivable odds. As soon as competent feeling begins to spread back into her fingertips they are scrabbling desperately around on the bedside table and after what seems like an age – though in reality is probably no more than a few seconds – they find the pill bottle and she swallows four dry, not really caring that a couple stick in her throat and almost make her vomit them straight back up as she knows that if she manages to keep the others down, the pain will soon be over. Zara reckons that she hasn’t cried from physical pain since the age of six when she fell off a pony and shattered her leg but she thinks that she may cry now if it doesn’t subside within the next few moments. To her overwhelming relief the onslaught begins to wane shortly after and gingerly she pulls herself up into a kneeling position, massaging her hip where it had hit the floor after she’d fallen from her bed. Cautiously and with her hand firmly planted on the nearby mattress she straightens up agonisingly slowly, her hand shooting to her head as it throbs in protest. Closing her eyes she waits for it to pass before shuffling towards the en suite, the promise of a hot shower a welcome distraction. She doesn’t make it. There is no warning, no blurred vision, her legs simply crumple under her and she crashes down towards the unforgiving tile, forgetting to scream before her breath is knocked out of her. The last thing she remembers hearing is her phone vibrating on the nightstand and morbidly wondering what would stop ringing first; her brand new, state of the art smartphone that she bought last week to treat herself or her body clock. She’s unconscious before the answerphone’s tone fills the room, the person on the other end gambling that they’ll be able to ring back later, catch her after her ritualistic morning shower. An hour later the phone rings again, and a vaguely conscious Zara cracks an eye open, assessing her chances of making it to the table on the other side of the room. She knows she needs help and she also knows that she cannot stay on the floor of her bathroom for the whole day, attractive as it might seem to her right now. With great difficulty and after several attempts she manages to haul herself up onto her hands and knees and half crawl, half drag her unresponsive body towards the bed, crying out in frustration as she struggles to heave herself onto it, finally collapsing on top of the covers after one last burst of strength. The short journey has sapped her energy and the phone has long since stopped ringing but she has just about enough strength left to hit the redial button, hoping against hope that the person on the other end will be one who can help. Her whole body sags in relief as she hears the voice of her consultant friend and former mentor on the line, mustering the willpower to ask for aid, something that is unbelievably hard for her to do. “Zara? You there? Hallo?! I was just wondering if you’d like to go for lunch some time, it’s been ages since we’ve had a good chat, you must tell me how your father is...” he trailed off, uncertain. “You there Zara? If I’m speaking to the inside of your handbag you’ll be paying for my time.” “Juu-lan,” she slurs, horrified by her inability to control her own speech. “Juuuu-lan,” she tries again, panicking. “Zara, I’m coming over. Stay where you are, don’t try to move – I know where your spare key is.” “Nnn-“ “Don’t argue, I’m coming. If it turns out you’re drunk you’ll be in massive trouble mind you...” Zara’s laugh comes out more like a hiccough than anything else and however much he tries to hide it, Julian’s voice is strained. They both know the implications of this last episode and they both know that their foolish act of pretending that everything was rosy is up. Over the phone, a car starts. “Don’t panic, I’ll be there soon. Just hang on in there Z.” Ten minutes later she’s feeling decidedly better, wrapped in a blanket on the sofa with a steaming cup of English tea in her hands, the small sips that she’s taking assisting with the shock. Julian watches her carefully, almost nervously... Zara wants to tell him to stop staring, that she’s not going to break but she can’t, she isn’t sure herself. “So,” she says, trying to appear nonchalant, balancing her mug on the arm of the chair, “what’s the diagnosis Doc?” “When did the first one happen?” “First what?” “Zara. Don’t,” he says firmly, though the tiny break in his voice betrays his blasé nature. “When did your first seizure happen?” She sniffs and stares into her tea, watching the beads of air ripple across the surface and burst in the heat, unsure how to answer. “How long has it been?” “I, uh... a week and a half,” she confesses heavily. “You’ve known that something was wrong for a week and a half?” “No, I’m fine. Just a little tired, that’s all – I’m in a high-pressured job!” “You’re not fine, you could hardly speak on the phone earlier. No, you’re coming to my clinic and we’re getting you checked out.” “I have work, patients that depend on me!” “Ever heard of locums? Come on Zara, now’s not the time for silly pride games.” “Julian...” she sighs. “I’m taking you for a scan right now, you’ll easily be back in time for evening surgery if you’re so desperate. I’ll ring you with the results later on in the week, okay?” Zara nods and sips her tea. She feels trapped in her own premature coffin for days and the claustrophobia doesn’t abate until after her last patient has left before the weekend and she has a few minutes on her own. It’s just past seven when she gets the call. “Zara? I’ve been trying to contact you, why aren’t you at home?” “Oh y’know, funny little thing called work...” “I got your results back. We need to talk.” “Can we do it at my place?” “Of course. It might be for the best if you asked a friend to come too, just for some moral support.” “I’m not a child Julian!” “I know, I wasn’t suggesting anything of the sort! Just ask someone ‘round Z, might be an idea.” She calls Daniel from home. She knows what’s coming and however much she’d like to appear otherwise, right at that moment she doesn’t feel strong or brave and she doesn’t want to have to listen to what he has to say alone. He picks up after the third ring. “Zara?” His voice is light, she can imagine his eyes glittering as he tries not to laugh. She can also imagine the pretty woman tucked under his arm as he balances the phone in the crook of his neck. “I- I was just wondering whether you’d like to come over to mine tonight.” She hears stifled laughter at the end of the line and grips the arm of her chair, fighting back emotion. “I can’t right now, I uhm... have a lot of paperwork to catch up on.” A peal of laughter erupts at the other end and a hand is instantly clapped over the mouth piece, stifling the sound. She takes a deep breath, aware that he can still hear her. “Daniel, I need your help.” After a moment the hand over the mouth piece shifts and he says, “Surely it can wait ‘til morning? Look it up in a textbook or something.” Zara doesn’t need to hear any more and slams the phone down before he has the chance to. She deserves to retain some sliver of dignity. Stabilising herself on the armrests for several moments, she inhales and stands up tall. Never before has she needed someone to hold her hand and she bloody well doesn’t now, either. “So,” she calls when she hears the door go, straining out the last tea bag and taking the tray through to the sitting room to find Julian. “What are we looking at here?” “You’d better sit down Zara.” She sets the tray down on the coffee table, handing Julian his cup of tea and offering milk and sugar. It’s avoidance, they both know, but as she picks up her own cup she realises there’s nothing left to do. She sits down opposite him, a little shakily. “No ‘Z’? We’re being grown up about this then.” “Yeah, I’m afraid we are.” “Just cut to the chase Julian, you’re making me nervous.” “What about your friend?” “What about him? I don’t need him; decided not to call in fact. I’m a big girl.” It’s the second time she’s said something similar in the space of a couple of hours and it doesn’t go unnoticed by either of them. Zara winces and sets her cup down. “Come on then. Just say it.” “It’s a tumour, it’s in your brain.” “Malignant?” He nods. “I’m sorry Zara.” She says nothing, just stands quickly and starts to pace. Julian watches her for a moment before he bows his head. She circles the room three times before she speaks. “So, chemo?” “I- uhm...” Julian’s never been in this position with a friend before and in that instant he realises that there’s no precedent for it, no amount of training or refresher courses can prepare you for telling a surrogate daughter that they’re going to die. “It’s too far advanced Z, it’s inoperable. Chemo would shrink the tumour, but ultimately-“ “It would mean a lot of pain for hardly any gain,” she finishes for him. “I was a very paranoid child, you know that?” she asks rhetorically as she reaches the French doors and pauses, staring out at the darkening sky distractedly. “I always used to expect the worst from a situation. But my mother would take me in her arms and soothe the pain away and after she died, my father took her role. They always told me to look for the best in things and right now I’m trying, I really am. I just can’t seem to find the light in this situation, there’s only darkness.” “Zara...” “No,” she says, turning to look at him. She’s not crying but her jaw is set in a grim line. “No, don’t say anything. I’d like to be on my own please – would you let yourself out?” “Zara-“ he tries again. “Please Julian.” He nods and collects his things, pausing to set down some medication and to look at her on his way out. She’s turned back to the window, deeply immersed in her own thoughts. He averts his eyes to the floor for the moment, blinking back tears. Clichéd sympathies rise to his lips but instead he heads for the door, not trusting himself to not blurt out something incredibly insensitive. Zara hears the door go and calmly walks to the coffee table, collecting the forgotten beverages and delivering the tray to the worktop in the kitchen, resolving to deal with the remnants in the morning. She then climbs the stairs, mechanically performs her night time routine and goes to curl up on top of the bedclothes. She’s asleep before the sun has dipped behind the trees. //
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Decani
Family – Rico
Z&D <3
Posts: 211
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Post by Decani on Jan 28, 2011 21:46:46 GMT 1
A/N: I can't promise that all updates will be this long, but it has been YONKS since I last updated, so I thought it was kinda required. Also I still haven't decided what to do about the tense, so for now it's staying as it is. I think I'll probably leave it as it is though, unless anyone has any major qualms.
Dedicated to iheartdaniel for kicking my bum into action Part Two“Hey,” Daniel catches her on the way to the staff room the Monday after. “Hello,” she replies a little stiffly as she reaches past him to get a mug for her mid-morning tea. “Good weekend?” “I- yeah, it was fine,” she says, stopping herself from letting on what’s been on her mind since Friday evening. She pours the tea and quickly makes to exit, not in the mood for probing questions, especially not from the person who has let her down the most frequently these past few months. “Where’re you off to?” “House calls,” she throws over her shoulder. It’s not a complete lie, but it’ll involve waiting out in the car for a good hour if Mrs McCredy isn’t in. At lunch she avoids the staff room, choosing to eat alone in her consulting room to catch up on some paperwork. Of course that isn’t the only reason for her self-inflicted solitary confinement, but the further away from her thoughts that Daniel Granger stays the better. It annoys her that she can’t seem to keep him out of her mind though, and the sudden rush of nausea that overwhelms her is an almost welcome relief from the mental torture assaulting her mind. Breathing deeply, she takes a mouthful of water but the motion of swallowing it down only seems to aggravate her (very empty) stomach. She knows there’s nothing to sick up, having neglected breakfast that morning and eaten very little the day before, the weekend’s events causing her to somewhat lose her appetite but the thought of even the most tiny amount of vomit only makes her stomach turn more violently. She never has gotten used to the smell of sick, a great disadvantage for a GP with an expensive taste in shoes. At that moment there’s a knock on the door and no one other than the object of her thoughts walks in - without waiting for a reply, as is the norm. Zara groans. “Oh, thanks.” “No, no, it’s not you, I feel a little ill is all.” She smirks slightly. This is only half true. “Ah, are you okay? You don’t look well, I have to say...” He trails off as Zara pins a piercing glare on him, furious at his tendency for unsubtlety. “Sorry, sorry,” he quickly backtracks, “stupid question. I am sorry – can I get you anything? Drink of water?” At the mention of water, Zara’s hand flies to her mouth and she almost throws up all over his shoes; not that that would be such a bad thing, she reminds herself. “I’ve gotta go,” she manages to choke out before she stumbles from the room towards the ladies’, Daniel holding the door open for her as she makes her desperately undignified exit. // “How’re you feeling?” Daniel asks the next morning as he pokes his head around Zara’s door. She raises her eyebrows. “What you’re really asking is if I’m still coming this afternoon. Relax, I’m actually quite looking forward to seeing Izzy.” “And the punch line is?” Zara rolls her eyes. “No, there’s no punch line. The mood I’m in I’d be grateful if I were you.” Six hours later she’s kneeling on the carpet of Daniel’s living room, arranging Izzy’s toys as they wait for her mother to drop her off. Daniel walks in with two cups of coffee, setting one down on the table for her. “What’re you doing?” “Hmm?” “This,” he says, indicating the coloured beads that she’s just fitted into their wooden frame. He sits down on the arm of a nearby sofa as he speaks, taking a sip from his mug. “Well I apologise for playing the part of the dutiful girlfriend just so you can see your daughter.” “You’re very keen to see Izzy today, aren’t you? Very keen to get things sorted for her.” It’s in that moment that everything almost comes spilling out. She so nearly tells him why she’s desperate to spend as much time as possible with the little girl that she’s become so fond of and to get things in order quickly for her, no matter how much she claims that she’s glad she’s never had children. She’ll never be a mother now, either... Zara pushes the sobering thought firmly to the back of her mind and realises that Daniel’s looking at her expectantly. There’s a sharp pang in her chest at her choice of word. “What?” she questions, flustered and too late. “And that’s wrong how?” she quickly amends. Daniel goes to retort but the door rings, interrupting what would have inevitably have been a full-blown row before long. “Shouldn’t you let her in?” Zara asks, glad to avoid another pointless conflict. Later on she is sitting beside the coffee table with Izzy on her lap. She’s ‘helping’ her build a tower of bricks and in that moment she’s as close to having a daughter as she’ll ever be. She gives the little girl a small squeeze, relishing in the closeness of the tiny human being as she takes her hand, guiding her to place the blocks one on top of each other. “One, two, three...” she counts. “Do you want to do one?” Her heart swells with emotion as she watches Izzy reach up as high as she can and place the purple ‘A’ brick on the top of the tower. It quivers and clatters onto the tabletop but she kisses the top of her head and praises her. “Ohh,” she sympathises, “there’s no point in building a tower with only one or two bricks. You’ve got to think big, look at the whole picture, isn’t that right Daddy?” Zara isn’t sure how long Daniel’s been standing there and she can’t quite judge his expression. Surely he isn’t still concerned about her intentions? “I’ll get the juice,” he replies after a moment. She sighs. “Daddy hasn’t got a very big tower,” she tells Izzy a little sadly, and kisses the top of her head again. A while later Zara takes a box out of her handbag. She’s semi-aware of Daniel’s loitering presence by the door but she isn’t too bothered by this; maybe he’ll finally see that his black and white impression of her is just what she is on the surface, not who she was before she was forced to toughen up and become Zara. It’s times like these that she really misses Alex Grey. She sniffs and pulls herself together, opening the little white box to reveal a delicate silver bracelet of entwined leaves, interspersed by a tiny rose over the catch. “I’ve a little present for you darling,” she says, ruffling Izzy’s wispy curls lightly. As she looks up at her Zara feels tears begin to prick in her eyes but she blinks them away, smiling as the little girl reaches out for the bracelet, knowing that two year olds are as attracted to shiny things as magpies. “Here you go,” she says, attaching it to her wrist. “Oh,” she says as Izzy inspects it closely, her eyes widening as it almost slips off, “it’s a little too big for you right now. How about we put it in this little box?” Zara takes a tiny jewellery box out of her bag and opens it, watching Izzy grin in delight as the miniature ballet dancer inside springs up and starts to twirl. She smiles too, though it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. What she wouldn’t give- “I think we need a word,” Daniel calls, shaking her out of her reverie. She rolls her eyes but checks that Izzy is contentedly amused with the music box before she stands and walks to join him at the door. “What’re you playing at?” he mutters as she comes within earshot, wary of his daughter playing only a few feet away. “Alphabet bricks,” Zara shrugs. “You know what I mean.” “What are you saying, I- there’s no game!” “Everything’s a game to you. And you’re forgetting I’ve seen what you’re capable of.” Ah, of course. The whole debacle with Ian... “That’s over Daniel. My father and I have gone our separate ways, Ian’s in prison and I’m free for the first time in so long. I’m not that person, really.” “I’ve seen it Zara. Your malicious little tricks, you pull people in and then you watch them fall.” “What’re you saying?” Zara asks, feeling her stomach drop. And there she was, thinking that just maybe she’d found herself a little dysfunctional family of her own. “I’m grateful for the whole pretending to be my partner thing, but Lisa’s not here now. So leave Izzy out of any little scheme you may have.” “Daniel, don’t. You know me!” “Exactly, I know you. You’re a laugh Zara, and I admit that we do have fun but not everyone lives like that. You play with peoples’ lives in your spare time, I live in the real world. I have responsibilities and you have this hedonistic thing going on... we’re not students falling out of bars anymore, we’re grown ups. When I first met you I thought you were so great – smart, funny, very Bad Girls but using my daughter? That’s low. Come and find me when you’ve grown up Zara.” She’s struck speechless, like the air’s been knocked out of her and tears are streaming down her face; something that Daniel hadn’t noticed, too caught up in his tirade. He opens his mouth as if to say something but decides against it, clamping it shut and setting his jaw in a grim line. “I can’t believe you think so little of me,” Zara breathes, “before today I thought you were the one person in the world that maybe understood me.” “Well, clearly not. I thought I did, but... go on then. You try to make me understand, let me in. I don’t know whether I’ve ever seen the real you, one minute you’re caring, conscientious towards your patients and the next you’re manipulative and dangerous. I have no idea what game you’re playing Zara.” “Oh yeah,” she bites back suddenly, “’cause that’s all my life is, isn’t it, a game?” “Isn’t it?” “God, Daniel, I’m this close to-“ “Yeah, what’re you going to do? Hit me in front of my two year old child?” “Of course not,” she replies, glancing over to Izzy who is thankfully still bemused by her tiny pink and white twirling dancer. “Okay,” she says heavily after a moment’s contemplation. “You really want to know what I’m ‘playing at’?” she questions, air quoting with her fingers. “Yeah, I do,” he says with a humourless chuckle. “Fine. I can’t have children Daniel and up until these past few months playing house with you and Izzy I didn’t think I wanted them. Hell, it took me a big kick up the arse to realise that I do want to be a mother, desperately, but now... oh, I don’t know why I’m telling you this.” “No, go on. I want the full sob story.” Zara takes a deep breath, her eyes blazing and begins to talk with a new ferocity. “Now there are headaches Daniel. Migraines that feel as if someone is splitting open my skull. There’s nausea, loss of concentration, sensitivity to light... seizures. There’s no hidden agenda. I just want to spend time with a little girl that I’ve come to love, is that so wrong?” “So, uh...” he says, trailing off and fiddling with his cuffs. “What are you saying?” “Oh wake up Daniel, you went to medical school – you tell me.” “Late developing epilepsy?” The faint note of hope in his voice lifts Zara’s heart slightly and her anger fizzles out. “No,” she says, heavily. “It’s cancer.” Daniel looks crushed and he visibly slumps, his face paralysed with shock. “I don’t know what to say,” he finally chokes out, tears glistening in his eyes. Tears are streaming down Zara’s face – not because she’s scared of her fate but because she and Daniel are finally getting somewhere and she knows how she’d feel if she couldn’t walk into work to see him every day. “Oh, God... bloody hell Zara.” “Bluddy ‘ell, bluddy ‘ell,” a little voice suddenly pipes up and they both turn, horrified, to see Izzy hitting two bricks together and chanting the phrase, giggling. “Oops,” Zara says and the next thing she’s in fits of laughter, tears streaming down her face; not due to sadness but unadulterated hilarity. “Oh Daddy, you’re going to be in so much trouble.” //
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Decani
Family – Rico
Z&D <3
Posts: 211
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Post by Decani on Jan 30, 2011 18:48:57 GMT 1
Part Three
“Sorry for calling you back so early Lisa. If Zara wasn’t so concerned about Izzy catching her cold we would’ve been overjoyed to have her all afternoon!” he waves as he watches them walk down the drive, grinning when his daughter turns back to return the gesture; all the while desperately hoping that she doesn’t repeat the new words that she learned that afternoon.
Closing the front door he leans on it for a moment and lets out a little sigh of happiness. If this were a perfect world he’d be able to see Izzy every day, be there for every milestone. He’s reminded of quite how imperfect life is however when Zara comes out of the sitting room with their neglected cups of coffee, wrinkling her nose at him as she heads towards the kitchen. He grins; she looks cute. “Cold?” he asks. “Disgustingly so,” she calls back. “If we’d have left them festering any longer we could’ve provided enough penicillin for a whole host of people to be cured of eye infections.” He shakes his head slightly and goes to collapse onto the sofa, not having the energy to start clearing up Izzy’s toys just yet; anyhow, he kind of likes them out, they remind him of whom he is getting his act together for.
A few minutes later Zara flops down on the settee next to him. “So, you manage to harvest those drugs?” “Hmm. Maybe I was a little hasty... the rims were only ever so slightly fungal.” “The rims?” “Yeah, covered with disgusting green stuff they were. Horrid to get off.” It’s at this point that he recognises the glint in her eye and realises what she’s pushing at; he feigns mock hurt. “You don’t like my pesto?” She laughs. “Your pesto?” “Okay, okay... my militantly followed recipe for pesto?” “Try Loyd Grossman’s pesto Daniel,” she grins. He rolls his eyes at her but they lose some sparkle as he readies himself to talk about why Izzy really went home early. “So, what do we do now?” “We? Daniel, Izzy didn’t go home so we could have a quickie on the sofa,” she chastises with a wink. “No really Zara. I help you get your dad out of prison, you help me see Izzy – this is how we do things, you and me. So, what’s the plan of action? Chemo?” “I er- Daniel,” she protests weakly, dropping her gaze to her hands as he interrupts, “Seriously Zara, you’ve agreed with your dad that you’re going to lead separate lives, that you don’t know each other anymore, that you don’t necessarily want to rebuild that relationship because you’re very different people. He can’t be there for you, so I want to be the one that is.”
Zara closes her eyes and frowns lightly. She hates that she’s going to have to shatter his little bubble of delusion all over again but there’s no getting away from it; if he’s going to know then he has to know everything, she hasn’t time for avoiding the truth. “I er- I thought you understood what I meant earlier.” “I did. You have cancer and you’re going to beat it,” he says matter-of-factly. “No,” she sighs, taking his hand and squeezing it. “The tumour is in my brain, right next to my brain stem. It’s inoperable...” she trails off, seeing that he’s just frozen in front of her. “No,” he breathes. She’s a little shocked by his reaction, but hope blossoms in her chest. Maybe she won’t have to do this alone after all. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you before.” He squeezes her hand that is still entwined with his. “When did you find out?” “Last Friday.” “Last Friday?” he questions rhetorically, wondering why that rings a bell. “Last Friday... oh...” he trails off. “You rang me last Friday. You asked for my help. Did you know then?” “No, I erm- I suspected though, I was just thinking that maybe you were free to sit in, that’s all,” she says, withdrawing her hand from his. “Obviously you weren’t, you were busy.” “Actually uh- I was...” he says, unable to find the words. “I know,” she says shortly. “I’m so sorry Zara. If I’d known-“ “You’d have come running?” she rolls her eyes, turning her head away from him. “Yeah actually, I would. Look,” he sighs as she refuses to make eye contact with him, “the girl I was with was just a bit of fun. I don’t even know her surname for goodness sakes! You’re the one that I care about, not some quick fling.” “Do you really mean that?” “Oh, Zara,” he sighs, shuffling over to sit next to her and taking her into his arms. She places her head on his chest, glad of the comfort. “But how am I supposed to know that tomorrow you won’t just go and pick up another blonde and available waitress or client or hairdresser’s receptionist?” she sniffs. He hesitates in his reply and she looks up at him. “What?” “Uh... well I hadn’t really wanted to show you this – at least not yet.” “Show me what?” she questions, intrigued. “Well, on Saturday, I woke to find myself in bed with a very gorgeous, blonde girl-“ Zara stiffens at this “though instead of feeling rejuvenated I felt down, unhappy.” “Your point is? Really Daniel, this rollercoaster of emotion that you’re taking me on today is making my head hurt.” She winced at the expression as soon as it passed her lips. “Sorry. Bad choice of words. But what are you trying to say?” “I’m trying to say that despite her being gorgeous, blonde, great company if you get what I mean,” Zara scrunches her nose and slaps him lightly, “she wasn’t smart, funny or just a little bit Satanic. She wasn’t you, Zara.” “And who should I be reporting that plagiarism to? The writers of Love Actually?” “I mean it! And if you don’t believe me, look at this.”
He waits for her to sit up and then he walks over to the glass cabinet in the corner, reaching on top of it to find the key and unlocking it. He reaches in and brings out a small velveteen box, handling it as if it were something very precious. “This was my great-grandmother’s,” he explains as he comes back to sit beside her. “After my little epiphany on Saturday morning I went into the city and got this out of my safety deposit box.” “But why? I mean I’m pretty sure what it is – but why are you showing me?” “This ring has been in my family for generations and my mum left it to me in her will with strict instructions to give it to the one person who makes my world complete. Admittedly I went to get it out of utter spontaneity but now I absolutely know that I’ve made the right choice.” “Uh, Daniel...” “Here, have a look,” he says, passing it over. Zara has been expecting a garish, gilded Victorian piece of costume jewellery but her breath catches in her throat as she opens the box to find a thin silver band, with a stunningly blue sapphire set at its centre and two gorgeously cut diamonds nestled either side of it. “Oh, wow, it’s beautiful Daniel...” “I know. I mean I’ve only ever seen pictures of it-“ “What? You mean you’ve never seen it in the flesh?” “No, my mother kept it under lock and key before she died when I was two and then it went straight to the bank for safekeeping. I wanted you to be the one to see it first,” he smiles.
Suddenly the significance of the whole gesture dawns on Zara and her eyes widen slightly.
“Daniel Granger, are you proposing?” “Only if you’re game,” he grins. “Oh, gosh,” she says, putting a hand to her chest, “I don’t know what to say.” “Say yes. I know it’s soon and impromptu and ridiculously insane but I reckoned that we’ve endured a year without killing each other and so why not?” “Daniel-“ “Oh come on Zara. Do you want me to say it? Do you want me to shout it from the rooftops? ‘Cause I will you know.” Without hesitating he jumps up and runs to the ajar window, managing to yell “I LOVE-“ before she claps a hand over his mouth, giggling. “No, no I don’t. And I erm... I love you too Daniel. Wow. I’ve never said that before.” “Then what are we waiting for? Come on, we need to shake things up a little around here, everyone’s starting to rest on their laurels after our last stunt and it’s getting boring. Let’s hit them with a scandal – might finish Mrs Tembe off, but mind you we may just be doing everyone a favour then,” he finishes. She says nothing and he’s surprised; he was expecting a cruel little chuckle or at least a light slap on the chest. Instead she’s simply holding eye contact with him solemnly. “I’d love to marry you,” she says quietly, “and I’d do anything to be stepmother to Izzy. But I can’t.” “Zara, for goodness sakes why not?” he says, infuriated, “I love you, you love me, we know each other’s darkest and most dangerous secrets – isn’t that how marriage works?” “Oh yeah fine, so we get married a few months down the line, have another couple of months blissfully happy and then I go and die on you. I know it’s ‘in sickness and in health’ and everything, but that’s just ridiculous.” “That’s what you’re worried about? Really?” “Isn’t it enough?” “Zara I get it, you’re worried about leaving me behind. But I wouldn’t have asked you unless I was one hundred percent certain about it, and us, and you. Besides,” he says as he wraps his arms around her, placing a kiss on the top of her head, “you’re not going anywhere. I don’t care what your consultant says, we’re going to live ‘til we’re ninety and you’re old and grey.” “Me, grey? I don’t think so,” she laughs but her eyes tell a different story. She’s concerned, she’s not sure whether he’ll be able to deal with accepting her fate. “Right, well... okay.” “Okay? You mean you’ll marry me?” “I er- no. Come on Daniel, it’s too soon. We haven’t even dated!” “Zara, we’ve dated,” he winks. “I mean properly dated Daniel, like... old-fashioned courting.” “Courting? Seriously?” “Hey,” she hits him playfully, “I’m a traditional girl at heart! If we’re going to do this I want to do it properly.” “Right, so-“ “We date, we have dinner, we take long walks on clifftops and tell each other our most intimate secrets under the stars.” “Zara you know every secret I have and I’m pretty sure I know yours.” “Maybe, but I want you to get to know me, knowing my deepest darkest secrets isn’t enough. I need you to fall in love with who I truly am, not just the person you think you know.” Daniel nods slowly, digesting it all. “I um... I- just out of interest, how long do you envisage this taking?” he catches her eye for a second before his gaze shoots to the floor, though not before Zara sees the tears glistening in his eyes. “Hey,” she says, rubbing his arms, understanding what he hadn’t managed to say. “I’ve got time enough for this,” she whispers.
//
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Decani
Family – Rico
Z&D <3
Posts: 211
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Post by Decani on Jan 30, 2011 23:48:00 GMT 1
A/N: It's been pointed out to me that it's unclear at what point this fiction is set. I must admit, it's also pretty unclear to me. However, when I started it wayyy back in the summer of last year (yeah, my muse wasn't being all that cooperative in the latter half), it was on the understanding that Zaniel were in the pre-relationship stage; the let'spretendI'maliveingirlfriendforLisa'sbenefit phase, if you like. After that, this fic just heads out of the show canon door and keeps on walking. Basically, Izzy's kidnapping didn't happen, Zara and Daniel didn't get together conventionally as in the programme, Daniel and Lisa just didn't happen, but then it is up-to-date in the way that Mrs Tembe has arrived and Jimmi and Cherry are together. That's what you get for abandoning a fanfic kids, you just don't do it
Shorter part for tonight to tide us over whilst I attempt to figure out what on Earth will be in the next update... Part FourZara grins as she pulls into the car park on Monday morning, seeing Daniel leaning against the bonnet of his BMW waiting for her. She kills the engine and slides out of the car, locking it without a backward glance as she sashays over. “Someone’s a happy camper,” he winks when she reaches him. “’Camper’ would be the right word... did you get the house cleaned up in time before Jimmi got home?” “Just, but he’d had a good weekend away so I don’t think he was too miffed to find women’s underwear beneath his settee...” Zara claps a hand to her mouth, mortified. “Are you serious?” Daniel holds her steady gaze for a good few moments before his eyes begin to twinkle and his face cracks into a smile. “No, I still haven’t told anyone about us, but your face was priceless.” Zara slaps him, but she’s trying her hardest not to laugh. “So,” she says, slipping an arm through his, “are you ready for today? After the cat’s out of the bag we can’t take it back.” “Of course,” he smiles, leaning in for a kiss to settle her nerves. “There’s no one on this planet I’d rather be with, I’m afraid you’re stuck with me Carmichael.” “Right then-“ she’s smiling, but the slight quaver in her voice betrays her true feelings. “Hey,” Daniel says, grabbing her hand. “You’re the one. Full stop. End of story. Finis. Now, are you planning on doing any work today or what?” She leans her head on his shoulder for a moment in silent thanks, then looks up at him, raising an eyebrow. “Let’s go and face the music, eh?” It’s lunchtime but Zara is leaning against the wall outside Daniel’s office, arms crossed and foot tapping. She’s growing increasingly impatient by the minute but her rising frustration has nothing much to do with missing her salad and an awful lot to do with the butterflies swarming inside her. She’s hoped for this moment for an awfully long time, yet now it’s here... The door opens and she jumps about a foot in the air, almost colliding with the patient that Daniel’s showing out in his standard gallant fashion. Of course she’s blonde, and her legs go on for miles- Zara clutches her chest and glares at him as she passes. “Were you trying to kill me?” she mutters icily, glaring at the woman’s retreating form. Daniel however holds up a silencing finger and she almost combusts when the model turns back to wave at him. To Zara’s disdain, he waves back. “What the-“ Daniel is unfazed by her glower and instead takes her arm and pulls her inside his room, shutting the door behind them in one fell swoop. “So, who was that, Heidi Klum?” He shrugs and as she goes to say something he dives, kissing her for all he is worth, halting her crusade very firmly in its tracks. After a moment she wilts against him and equals his passion, pulling back only when the need for air becomes paramount. “What was that in aid of?” she asks breathlessly. “Purely selfish reasons I’m afraid, I’ve been longing to do that ever since morning surgery started.” She buries her head in his chest, so grateful of his ability to read her like a book. He’d never admit what he’d just done, but she was so glad that he chose to scupper her insecurities in such spectacular fashion. After Zara has straightened out her suit and Daniel has changed out of his lipstick-stained shirt (she wonders why he even has a clean shirt in his office – he offers up the entirely unconvincing explanation of “blood”), they make their way to the staff room, already buzzing with the chatter of the infamous practice gossip mill. Daniel releases her hand as they enter, clapping to draw attention. “Uhm, hello everybody – welcome back Jimmi and Cherry.” They both nod at him, bronzed and glowing from the South African sun. “Sorry to steal your thunder guys, I’m sure Karen was well on her way to wheedling out the most intimate details of your holiday, not limited to the contents of your breakfast trays,” he winks at the receptionist, who juts her chin in protest. “Anyway, I hope I shan’t disappoint. Zara and I have some news.” Taking a deep breath, he reaches back and threads his fingers through hers, smiling when she gives his hand a little squeeze for reassurance. From the corner of the room, he hears Cherry squeal. “Well I guess the secret’s out,” he says, finding himself blushing like a teenage boy in the first flush of love. “Yes, Zara and I are together-“ “-and we’re really, really happy,” she finishes for him. “I just want to say- no, scratch that. You’ll have to excuse me for a moment, esteemed colleagues,” she says before she leaps into Daniel’s arms, wraps her legs around his waist and returns his earlier favour, staunchly ignoring the whistles and catcalls from the oh-so professional staff. She may be on the verge of doing something utterly sensible and settling down, but she’s still Zara Carmichael and she isn’t about to let anyone forget it. She rests her forehead against his after they relent, closing her eyes and hugging his neck. “We’re going to pay for this,” he whispers. “I know.” “Put her down, loverat,” Jimmi calls and she turns and grins at him, hopping out of Daniel’s arms to greet the onslaught of well-wishers. //
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Decani
Family – Rico
Z&D <3
Posts: 211
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Post by Decani on Feb 3, 2011 17:21:37 GMT 1
A/N: This part is basically just a filler - hopefully there'll be some more tonight if I find time to write!
Part Five
Several days later, Zara is collating notes in her room when there is a knock on the door. “Come in,” she calls absent-mindedly. The door opens and closes, before she feels someone smooth down her hair and place a kiss atop her head. “Hey you,” she smiles, but doesn’t bother to look up, still engrossed in her notes. Daniel drops into the chair beside her desk, lacing his fingers together over his crossed legs, clearly impatient. After a moment he says, “What’re you doing?” “What does it look like I’m doing?” “It looks like you’re working.” “Bullseye.” “But it’s the lunch hour!” Zara rolls her eyes and continues to click her mouse. “Don’t whine, Daniel. It’s not attractive.” “Zara-“ “Daniel. Can you seriously not see that I’m busy?” “Well yeah, but-“ “Take a hint, man! I need you to get out so I can finish this. I need to finish this so I have some free time tonight. I need some free time tonight...” she trails off, expectantly. After a moment’s silence, she finally turns to face him, sighing. “Free time, Daniel? Hello?!” “As in... free time for you and I kind of free time?” “Wooooow. How did you pass medical school?” She is grinning though and scoots her chair closer to him, reaching out to trace his jawline before kissing him full on the lips. “So, where are we going?” she whispers. “You haven’t got anything planned?” he pulls back to look at her, perplexed. “Do I have to do everything, Daniel?” “Fine, fine. I guess I’ll pick you up at eight then.” “I guess you will.” He smiles and kisses her again, indulging a second too long before he breaks it, the promise of “later,” hanging in the air. He stands and fastens one button on his suit jacket, winking at her before leaving the room. Once the door clicks shut behind him, Zara allows herself a little girlish giggle, her heart fluttering at the thought of an entire evening spent in the company of her boyfriend. Her boyfriend. She sighs happily; saying that will never become a chore. She turns back to her work, a secret smile playing on her lips. Zara runs down the stairs, fluffing her hair and flinging her coat over the banister, well aware that it is five to eight and Daniel will be arriving any time soon. Sure enough, as she slips on her heels the door bell rings. She rushes to open it. “Woah, you look a little flustered,” Daniel says as she stands back to let him in, allowing him a small peck on the lips. “The cheek!” she grins as she goes to the mirror to apply her lipstick, “you know you’re not supposed to say things like that to a lady?” “Yeah, well I think it’s cute,” he says, his arms snaking around her waist despite her efforts to slap him away. “Daniel, I need to get ready. Daniel!” she exclaims as he ducks around her shoulder and steals a kiss, “stop it! Goodness, those teenage hormones are really raging at the moment, aren’t they?” “What can I say? You make me into a total manwhore...” he then realises the implications of what he’s just said and freezes, feeling Zara do the same in his arms. Eyes wide, he splutters, “I-uhm, I mean y’know, not a manwhore- I don’t want anyone else, I mean- UGH!” It takes him a second to find that Zara is shaking and he pushes back the hair from her face to see that she is convulsing in silent laughter, her boyfriend’s complete inability to function as a normal human being an attractive source of entertainment. “Oh come on,” Daniel says, relieved, glad she hasn’t taken it the wrong way, “it’s not that funny!” “I beg to differ,” she giggles, “how am I meant to take you out in public after that?” “I sure you’ll manage,” he replies, rolling his eyes. He reaches over to the stair banister to fetch her coat, holding it open so she can slip inside. “And they say chivalry is dead! Okay, I think I’m ready. Shall we go?” “Finally,” Daniel sighs dramatically, but the twinkle in his eye belies the true meaning. He holds the front door open as she puts her lipstick inside her clutch bag and then he gestures to his car. “Ladies first!”
//
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Decani
Family – Rico
Z&D <3
Posts: 211
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Post by Decani on Feb 6, 2011 17:13:57 GMT 1
Part Six
Daniel is tracing patterns on the tablecloth, following the shadows created by the flickering candle beside him when Zara comes back from the bathroom. Their waiter swoops in and draws her chair out for her, tucking it under as she sits down and draping her napkin over her lap before silently retreating back into the ether outside the orb of light that the various lit candelabras are casting. She offers an appreciative smile but he is already gone, the ghostly professionalism of fine dining drilled into his very being. “This is lovely,” she says, turning to Daniel and taking a sip of her house red, “how did you manage to get the reservation?” “The maitre’d is a friend of a friend and he owed me a favour.” “Ooh, who’d have thought it, Daniel Granger has contacts...” “Hey!” he exclaims, eyes sparkling as he hits her lightly on the wrist, “what’s that supposed to mean?” “Nothing, I’ve always been very accepting of the fact that my boyfriend is a non-titled commoner. I’ve resigned myself to that fate.” “I went to public school! Actually, I was a sculls champion, mixed with all the Henley types when I was younger.” “So what on Earth happened?” she asks, eyes wide and full of feigned innocence. “Shush you. I don’t remember seeing the Queen on your family tree, either.” “Ah, but if she were so then I’d be a German. English Lady through and through, me.” “So you're saying that Elizabeth I was probably your great-great-great-great-great-” Zara cuts him off. “No silly, she had no children. I thought you said you were educated?” she asks, winking in jest. “Ha ha, you’re really very funny,” he deadpans. Daniel reaches over and laces his fingers through Zara’s, aware that they are under the hawk-like eye of their server but not hesitating. He doesn’t care who sees how in love he is with the woman in front of him and if that breaches some kind of etiquette, then so be it. They are hardly teenagers behind the bike sheds. “So...” “You really want to go and find a linen closet right now, don’t you? Or christen the restaurant’s toilets.” “Would that be so wrong?” he whispers back, quite serious. “Yes!” Zara giggles, “most unbecoming – and we wouldn’t get another reservation here even if we booked forty years in advance.” “But-“ “No, Daniel, it wouldn’t be ‘worth it.’ Civilised dinner, nice conversation. Romance and fine dining, there’s your lot.” “Seriously?” he groans. She smiles at him and leans a little closer over the table. “Well, at least until we get back to mine.”
Their starters arrive shortly after and Zara tucks into her smoked salmon, humming in appreciation. “Mmm, this truly is delicious... how’s your marinated beef?” “Lovely,” he replies and they descend into an appreciative silence for the next few minutes, relishing the experience.
Zara washes her fish down with the dregs of her wine and out of nowhere appears their commis waiter to top her glass up. “I could get used to this,” she whispers to Daniel when the young man is out of earshot. “I hope you’re not implying that I should be your personal slave.” “Why, is that not what boyfriends are for?” she asks, reaching for her clutch bag and rifling through. “Well you are on fire tonight, I have to say... what are you looking for?” he frowns as he realises her attention is distracted. “Nothing, I-“ “Zara?” “Damn it,” she mutters, closing the bag and throwing it back on the table after a clearly futile search. Her hand hovers over her right temple and she pushes her plate away, uncomfortable. “What’s wrong?” Zara meets Daniel’s questioning gaze and she can see the concern, swimming just below the surface. She sighs and relents, knowing she needs to admit to her stupidity before it becomes an issue. “My pills, they’re not in my bag – I think I left them at home,” she says, the hand still lightly pressed to her head illustrating her point. “Is it bad?” “It will be.” “Right,” he says matter-of-factly, turning to call their waiter over who complies within moments, arriving at their table swiftly. “Sir?” “May I have the bill? My companion isn’t feeling well, I’m afraid we shall have to cut dinner short.” “Certainly Sir, I shall be right back.” Daniel turns back to Zara who gives him a small smile. “Thank you for doing that.” “It’s absolutely fine, I wasn’t about to let you sit through a romantic meal in pain. Anyway,” he says, leaning back for a waiter to collect their empty plates and then taking her hand, “I enjoy your sense of humour, I couldn’t have sat through the entire evening in a stiff-upper-lip kind of establishment devoid of it.”
They are about twenty minutes from home when Daniel notices Zara gripping the side of her seat, leaving indentations in the leather with her fingernails. He doesn’t care about this though, he cares that her eyes are tightly shut, that her mouth is set in a grim line, that her cheeks are pale and tense. Without a word he puts his foot down, adrenaline pulsing inside him as he pushes on towards her house, his heart breaking as he realises he can do absolutely nothing for her until they get there. She winces at the gear change but her face remains dry. Despite everything, he feels the warmth of pride at the display of bravery she so resolutely sets before him. He tightens his grip on the wheel.
By the time they pull up outside the house it is dark, but he doesn’t need the light of day to know that Zara is in a bad shape. She groans softly as the engine cuts out but makes no effort to move. He gets out and runs around to the passenger side of the car, wrenching the door open and finding her hand, desperate when this provokes no response from her. He deftly undoes her seatbelt and gathers her in his arms, careful to see that he doesn’t jolt her head as he cautiously but quickly carries her inside, heading straight to the first floor where he knows there’s a long enough sofa in the sitting room. He lays her down on it and runs back downstairs, locking his car remotely and kicking the front door shut as he begins his frantic search for her pills. In his haste he knocks a vase to the floor, wincing as it shatters and vowing to clear it up later. When he looks to the spot on the hallway table that he pushed it off of though, he sees the telltale white and brown bottle and snatches it up triumphantly, running back upstairs, only stopping to retrieve a glass of water from the bathroom.
He sets the glass down on the coffee table in the sitting room and shakes out two of the little blue pills into his hand. Taking her hand, he starts speaking. “Zara? Can you hear me?” A soft grunt of recognition is all he needs and he smiles, relieved. “Okay, you’re going to have to work with me. I need you to swallow a couple of pills, do you think you can manage that?” She gives a tiny nod and tries to sit up, wincing as the effort sends blood rushing to her brain. Daniel immediately slides his body behind her, supporting her back as she silently takes the pills from him and puts them on her tongue. He reaches over and just manages to grasp the water, bringing it to her lips and watching her take a gulp of it before setting it back down. She swallows down the pills and he softly praises her, letting her rest her aching head on his chest. He pulls the throw off the back of the sofa and drapes it over them, placing a kiss on her crown before settling back, knowing it will be a while before Zara is able to do much at all. She reaches up and her fingers brush his hand in a wordless thank you, to which he takes her hand in his and kisses it before threading their fingers together and crossing their arms across her chest. Within ten minutes they are both asleep.
Around two hours later Zara stirs, prompting Daniel to wake too. “Hey you,” he says as the evening’s events filter back into his memory, “how are you feeling?” “Much better.” She sits up, propping herself up with her arm so she can see him and she smiles with gratitude. “Thank you for what you did,” she says, squeezing his leg with her free hand. “I’ve told you, it was no problem. Zara I love you, I would do anything for you and nothing’s going to change that. You’ve just got to let yourself trust that I’ll be here for you, whether you need me or not.” “I do,” she replies and smiles again, though it quickly morphs into a yawn. “How can I still be tired?” she laughs. “You’ve had a busy night. Come on, let’s go to bed.” “So you’re inviting yourself to stay now?” she chides as she gets up from the sofa and stretches. “I guess I am!” he grins and slides off the settee, following her up to the bedroom.
//
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