One year ago on Tuesday, December 9, 2014, the Selfie episode “Imperfect Harmony” (1x10) was released to the public on Hulu.
The sequence of still images is enough to give me a case of the harshest feels; see how Karen Gillan changes her character’s emotions flawlessly and seamlessly - we most def feel Eliza’s rejection and pain.
It’s also why I wrote a new story, called “BLINK”, based on “Imperfect Harmony” : check it out on AO3 and here on Tumblr.
(thanks to screencapped dot net for the screen caps ...)
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Sequel to "Canada Dry". Moving beyond 'friends' into a new phase of their relationship, Eliza and Henry test the boundary waters. Henry wants to see them proceed in a measured way (naturally), whereas Eliza wants him to become acquainted with alternative words to "intimate" (of course).
Chapters 1 and 2 are rated T for terrific. Chapter 3 is rated M for mature (coarse language, sexual situations) and E for excellent-because-it's-about-time. As long as I continue writing, this below is an enthusiastic 'thank-you-selfie' to "Selfie", along with gratitude to EK, KG, and JC. EK created the "Selfie" show, and characters ED and HH.
This work is intended as a follow-up to "Canada Dry", because god only knows, my muse and I believe in a sexy follow through. It might be useful to read "Canada Dry" first, but there's enough in the present story to stand on its own.
Chapter 1 of 3: “ALL GOOD THINGS ...”
Having the fever was one thing, but having the "total hots" for someone was something very different.
Being sick never felt so good, or led to such good things.
It had been a memorable two weeks.
Henry had taken care of Eliza through her bad cold, and he finally admitted how he felt about her. To her great credit, Eliza embraced him with warm open arms. But turnaround was fair play, and he caught her cold, prompting her to take care of him.
Eliza and Henry spent the following week, slowly learning more details about the other. Henry was interested in cooking, astronomy, and running. Few surprises there, but she no longer thought he was "super boring ..."
Well, maybe a little boring, but that's what I'm here for ...
He was surprised, however, to learn Eliza was interested in starting school and community outreach programs to encourage young women to nurture their creativity. Judging by the creative use of her wall space, he'd seen what Eliza could do, and he always thought she should explore that side a little more.
"We could ask women from different walks of life to come and speak; we could ask Charmonique, Joan, and Linda if they'd be interested. But I think you should be the first to speak and tell your story, Eliza." Henry remembered her initially shy reaction, but he could tell she liked the idea.
"Oooooh, my story, yeaaaah ... it be like 'from Butt to Bitch ...'"
"Uh, maybe a revised title would be more prudent, Eliza ... how about 'from Butt to Boss'?"
"Yeahhhh nooooo .... it's okay; we'll work on a title ..."
They spent most evenings together alternating between their respective places, and settling slowly into a new phase of their relationship. Best friends, and now, in love with each other. They hadn't yet reached the 'intimate' phase of their relationship, and it was all Eliza could do to try and erase that damn three-syllable word from his vocabulary.
Like a damn earworm that wouldn't go away, the word 'intimate' played on her mind.
She wanted Henry, sex, and coffee: not necessarily all at once, and not necessarily in that order.
She wasn't that fussy after all.
He knew what she wanted. He knew her well enough to know, but he also wanted her to appreciate a quieter side to being together. That if she wanted a more meaningful and lasting relationship, sometimes, the relationship was filled with spaces and moments that didn't necessarily carry big neon signs and fireworks. That sometimes, the best moments happen when it's quiet and both people are listening, truly listening to each other over the distractions of day-to-day life and beyond the messy array of personal hangups and desires.
"Eliza, do you have plans for tonight?", he asked over Wednesday lunch in his office behind closed doors.
"Online auction: I've had my eye on a pair of leg-high leather boots which I will now describe to you in three words: 'hot', 'sexy', and HAAAWWWT ..."
"Eliza ..." he warned, remembering her issues with maxed out credit cards.
"Don't worry, Henry. It's just the one item, and I've the cash. But seriously, why do you ask?"
"I want to take you out on a date tonight."
Instant thoughts of a big night at a ritzy restaurant and going out to a club entered her mind.
"Ooooooo! Screw the shopping! Big plaaaans?" she asked excitedly.
"That depends."
"Depends on what?"
"That depends on what you think will happen after our date."
"To disabuse you of the stupid word 'intimate'?"
He chuckled. "What word would you suggest I use?"
She tapped her lower lip with her index finger. "Hmmmm ... getting hot and heavy ... taking me to pound town ..."
He arched his eyebrow. "That's a lot of words just to replace one word."
"Yeah, I don't care; I just wanna get it on with you ...." She waggled her eyebrows suggestively.
He smiled. "Let's see how our date goes, okay?"
Shouting "win!" in her mind, she pouted instead. "You're no fun ... but ... you said that depends on what happens. What do you have in mind for our date?"
"I want to make dinner for you at your apartment."
"Nothing against your cooking, but that sounds totes boring ..."
"First of all, I want you to feel comfortable in your own place. Second, I know it's kinduva big deal, but I want the experience of our date to have the similar feel of the two of us hanging out and sharing a meal. The big difference is I want to do this for you. Third, it would be my pleasure to cook for you."
"But wh-y-y-y-y-y?" She playfully whined. "I just wanna get to the good stuff ..." Eliza stuck out her lower lip for good measure.
"Eliza, everything has its time and place."
"Couldn't we order takeout or pizza instead?" she asked, trying in vain to change his mind.
"We already do that. For a date, I want to do something different. Cooking is a slower experience, and lots of meaningful lasting memories arise from slower experiences. I promise it'll be rewarding as well. I haven't misled you about food, have I?"
"No. But ... does that mean you've misled me before? Huuuuh?" Eliza caught his little verbal misstep immediately.
"Oh my, I'm not going to touch that with a ten-foot pole ..." She was very sharp when she wanted to be.
She showed him teeth in her smile. "We'll get back to that ..." Come to think of it, she couldn't remember the last time a man, any man who had prepared a meal for her. "Soooooo, what are you going to make for me?"
"I was thinking something relatively simple: fettuccine carbonara, with mushroom and bacon. And yes, I definitely had you in mind with the bacon. And no, 'bacon and waffles' do not count as dinner."
"It could, if you really wanted to ..." She was happy he remembered her winning breakfast combination. In her mind, she thought if things between them continued to go well, maybe she'd ask him to make bacon and waffles sometime. Maybe even, the morning after their date ...
He laughed at the imagery. "I suppose. But fettuccine carbonara is the kind of thing one makes for a dinner date."
Eliza was beginning to warm to the idea, of Henry making himself more at home in her kitchen, and of him making her dinner.
"I'm pretty sure I have the necessary pots and pans, but I don't think I've got the stuff you need."
"Way ahead of you. I'll get that sorted out. You just be present and let me take care of the details."
Eliza perked up with a thought. "No wait, why don't we both get the food you need?"
Henry nodded. "That's a good idea. Wanna meet me at Trader Joe's at 6pm?"
"Totes. Text me the location you want to go, and I'll meet you there."
They both got up from their chairs, signaling the end of lunch. He came around to her and held her hands in his. "I'm looking forward to this. It'll be good, proper, and respectful, I promise."
"I know; I can always count on you. But you'll forgive me if I wanna make things a little bit less respectful." She leaned forward and kissed him.
He laughed through their open mouths. "Must be why I love you."
"Better believe it." She leaned in for another kiss, and it wasn't long when the darting and dueling of tongues was starting to get SRS ...
"Oh wow, Eliza," he managed to get out. "I hate to say it, but we gotta stop ..."
"No-o-o-o-o ..."
"Didn't you tell me you wanted to act more responsibly and be treated more seriously at work?"
"Yes, but you drive me crazy, Henry ..."
"Right back at you, Eliza. But I promise I'll do a better job controlling myself ... and not kiss you at work ..."
"What?! No, that's not what I meant ..."
"I'm kidding, Eliza. But seriously, we gotta get back to work ..."
"Do we have toooooo?"
"Yes, we do. Remember? Responsible adults?"
Eliza made a face. "Stop saying things that are truuueeeee ..." Reluctantly, she walked towards the exit and opened his office door. In the open doorway, she turned around and blew him an air kiss.
He caught it, and smiled in return.
Chapter 2 of 3: “... COME TO THOSE WHO WAIT”
"Did you enjoy dinner?" Henry asked with a small grin. Judging by the look of bliss on her face when she took a bite of his main course, he was very confident of her answer.
Both had changed into casual wear. He was in a grey-and-blue long-sleeved henley shirt and blue jeans; his black coat hung over her brown one-seater sofa. She had her hair up in a bun, wearing grey sweats and one of her many branded t-shirts with the phrase "Time's runnin' out: kiss me now." Subtlety wasn't really her thing, but he secretly loved her shirts.
Dinner was equally casual and simple, consisting of tossed green salad, fettuccine carbonara, and oven-toasted bread drizzled with olive oil. They had added to the shopping cart a bottle each of red and white wine. Eliza had also done her homework, and she recommended an easy-to-make dessert of citrus-infused strawberries. He'd been stuck on an appropriate dessert, and he loved her dessert idea. In her kitchen, he was more than happy to show how he was preparing dinner. As he cooked, they drank wine, they talked, and they laughed. It'd been no different when they sat down to eat.
After finishing dessert, they collected the dishes, and returned them to the kitchen.
With her back to the kitchen sink and her arms stretched out beside her, she wore the smile of a happy woman. "O-M-G, delisch! Thank you! Did you learn the recipe when you worked at your parents' Buca di Beppo?"
"No, I didn't. Funny enough, I picked up the recipe when I was traveling through Europe. As you saw earlier during preparation, the big thing about the recipe is what it lacks: there's no cream. It's the careful application of heat to the combination of eggs, Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese, and Pecorino Romano cheese."
With Henry's permission (she had to allow for that), she'd taken a snap of his creation, and posted the picture onto Instagram. In a pause when he went to get more wine, she snuck a look to see how the picture was doing.
Aw dang, only ten likes. So much for that attempt at a 'like spike.' Oh well ...
"Well ..." she said, returning to the present. "Maybe I'll try making it for myself sometime soon ..."
"And I hope to be here; I'd like to be around when you try."
"I don't know ..."
"Don't worry; I'm not gonna judge. Let me put it to you this way: I challenge you to learn, try, and improve on what I made tonight. But trust I'll help and support you; it's what friends do."
"Maybe ... I'll think about it. But you should know you're always welcome here."
"You're amazing, Eliza."
She giggled and blushed. "'Amazing' ..."
"When we first met, I didn't like you, but we agreed I'd help change you. I never thought we'd become friends. Then, we became best friends ..."
"Aaaaand?"
"I like you ..."
"Obviously ... I mean, look at me: what's not to like?"
"Eliza ..."
"J/K, Henry. You did change me."
"You've come a long way ..."
She nodded, but that seemed like a long time ago, back to a person she recognized only in the mirror. "Well, I have you to thank for that."
"That's not necessary. You did the all the work, you made the big changes."
"I suppose so ... but you changed, too."
"It's true ... and I have you to thank for that." Henry raised his wine glass in her direction. "Cheers to one Eliza Dooley, a fine outstanding woman who's well-liked by her friends and peers ... "
"Thank you, 'Sensei' ... " Eliza clinked her glass with Henry's.
"There's gotta be a better word than 'Sensei' ..."
She threw a wicked grin in his direction. "How about 'Elder'?"
"Ha ha, funny ... try again ..."
"J/K, Henry, J/K ... hmmm, how about 'best friend'?"
"Yes, I like that; go on ..."
Eliza set her glass onto the counter and took his glass, setting it next to hers. "Or how about ..." She wriggled her hips and the rest of her lithe body into his space. "How about 'looooover'?"
"That works, too ... uh ... Eliza ... what are you doing?"
Eliza rolled her eyes, reliving the time she dropped by his place to teach him some 'game', only to have him grab her unexpectedly. The sudden shock pushing her to leaving early, and thinking about him very differently. "What I'm doing ... is trying to get you to touch me, or have you forgotten that lesson already?"
"No, I haven't ..."
"Good," as she grabbed his arms and put them on her waist. "`Cuz I know you've had trouble in the past when I've been direct with you."
Encircling her body with his arms, he pushed her against his body, forcing her hands up onto his shoulders. "How's this working for you, Eliza?"
"Better ... hey, you're not scared of me, are you, Henry?"
"Not exactly ..."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"It means that ... you ... uh ..."
"Come on ... out with it, Henry ..."
"Remember how I told you you scare the hell outta me?"
"Uhm ... yeah?"
"My insecurity doesn't go away overnight. Look, I know we both want it ... "
"Henry, it won't hurt you to say it ..."
"Sex. With you. There, happy now?'
"Maybe. Quite possibly. Certainly a lot happier if we actually get to it ..."
"You've been in previous relationships ..."
"Duh .."
"... and you and Freddy weren't exactly shy to me and everybody else within earshot about your sexual chemistry ..."
"Oh." The penny finally dropped for Eliza. "And you think you won't match my standards for sex."
"Yes."
Funny how Henry would seem to hover over her relationship with Freddy, and now that she was with Henry, he couldn't seem to get out of Freddy's shadow. "Oh, Henry. I know I give you shit over your bowties, old-man habits, and awful jokes. But I know how kind, generous, and passionate you are. You're def legit in my books."
"Really?"
"I've said it to you before, Henry, and I'll say it to you again: I want you." Eliza held up her hand. "Honest ... straight up girl code. Well ... if you were a girl, that is."
"I'm not ..."
She brought her hands up to his chest, bunching his shirt. "Not that there's anything wrong with girl code ..."
"Nope ..."
"And as hot certain girls are, I'm glad a hot guy from Van Nuys is here, a guy who just made me dinner. I have to find a meaningful way to thank him. And just so I'm clear ... I am trying to seduce you ..."
"Well, I have news for you, Eliza. It's working. And no, I'm not gonna stop you ..."
"Good ... so why don't we start with this ..." She pushed him off and began to strip.
Slowly.
First, she pulled her shirt up and over her head. His eyes opened a little wider; she wasn't wearing a bra.
Second, she pulled her hair out of the bun, watching her red tresses fall over her smooth milk-white freckled skin.
Third, she pulled down her sweats, carefully, a leg at a time. He swallowed, but not because of her long legs. He had always admired her legs, and he was more than happy to look at her openly. No, it wasn't that. She wasn't wearing any panties.
Throughout her entire strip, she looked at him in the eyes. Not once did she break eye contact.
She stood before him: beautiful, naked, exposed, expectant. All for him.
He was getting 'a big rush of the feels,' and said the first thing that popped in his head. "Time is short, Eliza. I'd like to kiss you now ..."
She laughed. "You're so busted! You love my shirts!"
He nodded. "Yes, Eliza; you know I do ... get over here ... less talking, more kissing ..."
Chapter 3 of 3: LIGHTS
The one positive aspect of their relationship, especially in private, was being able to look at her naked body, a far cry from his admittedly poor reaction when she returned his jacket at the elevator just down the hall from her front door.
She sauntered over to him, hips swaying, head down, eyes up, turning up her 'sexy volume' to the full-on wattage of a thousand.
"Oh, I'm sure we'll get to that. But hello? In case you haven't noticed, I'm totally naked, and you seem to have this annoying habit of ignoring my body. Sooo, is that all you really have to say?"
He circled around her, giving her a thorough visual examination, from head to toe.
"Well?" she asked.
"Are you expecting me to put out after our date?"
She was confused and a little disconcerted. "Uhm, yes?"
"Wow, saucy much ..."
"Hey, you're not getting all high-and-mighty with me, are you ..."
"I'm kidding; I'm kidding ... what is that one thing you always say to me? J/K?"
Instinctively, she folded her arms across her chest. "Oh my God, Henry ..."
"Eliza, this isn't casual, okay? This isn't a one-time deal, a one-night stand." He reached for her hands, holding them in his. "What's happening between us, it's the real thing."
"I know, Henry. I feel the same way, too."
"Good. I'm glad. And now that I'm looking at you, you're definitely right about one other thing ..."
"What's that?"
"The best of your physical features. Your butt is very nice. And I must admit your underbutt is especially pleasant, too ..."
She squealed excitedly. "You ... you noticed!"
"Of course, Eliza ..." A thought tickling his mind over the last hour had finally blossomed. "But you know what else I noticed?
"Yes?"
"I can tell you're serious ... about this ..." At her questioning look, he continued. "Because you don't have your phone in your hand ..."
She grinned and nodded, glad he took notice of that 'one little detail'.
"And while we're on the topic of my observations ..." Henry added. "Has anyone ever told you you have legs a mile long?"
"I've been observing you, too. I've been aware you've had your eyes on me and my legs for some time."
"I have a list of observations. Wanna hear `em?" He released their hands and held her around her waist, stroking and caressing her skin.
"Totes ..." She looped her arms around his neck.
"Your big smile on your lovely face is a window to what you're thinking and feeling, a window to something I feel I am highly privileged to look through and cherish what lies within. A window to your kind soul, generous heart, keen perception, and wonderful intuition ..."
"Do go on ..." She was enjoying sparring with him and having him 'unclothe' her verbally.
"And I see ..." he took a peek downwards. ".. that the carpet matches the drapes ..."
Eliza blinked. And she blinked again. "Henry ... did you ... did you just say what I think you just said?!"
"Not gonna lie ... so it's gotta be true ..." To contrast his daring words, the look on his face bordered on adoration.
"But it's so unlike you ... O-M-G, I love it ... especially when you let loose and have some fun ..."
"That's why you're here to push me ..." He smiled, but faltered when he realized where they were. "Uh ... we're still in your kitchen ..."
"I know, but ssssssh ..." She pressed her fingers to his lips, and turned his earlier phrase back on him. "Less talking, more stripping ..."
"Okay ..." He reached for her hand, and they wandered out of the kitchen and into her living room. "But I think I need your help ... it's only fair ..."
Eliza stepped forward and carefully lifted his shirt through his arms, trailing her fingertips from his waist, up his chest, across his arms and hands, trailing away from his fingers. He closed his eyes and hissed, forcing her to look at him, the powerful effect her touch was having on him.
This wasn't just anybody, she thought. Not some guy she picked up at a club, or recently Freddy. This was Henry. Her Henry. I'm doing this to him ... he's making those sounds because of me ...
He unbuckled his belt, unfastened the top button, and pushed his jeans down to his naked feet. Down to his underpants, he already felt exposed. Eliza nudged his jeans to the couch with her feet. Regarding first his feet, she walked around him again, giving him the full Eliza gaze. Coming back around, she put her finger on his smooth naked chest, trailing her finger down his skin; down, down, down to the waistband. She pulled the waistband out towards her, and she looked down to take a peek inside. She liked what she saw, a little sexy side grin to complete the picture.
"Eliza!"
She quickly put her free hand on his mouth. He closed his eyes, turned on by her aggressive move. For sometime now, blood flow had already been going to the right places, but her bold confidence was pure sex in a bottle. Her sexy unleashed was rocking his cock, out and hard.
Pointing in the right direction. And if he leaned ever closer, the right destination ...
She watched him, then back up to his face, reflected very much in her own with a mixture of arousal and approval.
"Well well, Henry; it's true after all. You do have big feet ..."
"Okay then ..." blushed Henry.
Eliza put her hands on her hips, and looked at him with equal parts affection and challenge in her eyes. She realized those very same parts helped define the way they felt about each other. But above all, she felt like a rockstar champion. "What, no smart comeback? Cat got your tongue?"
"No no, I was just thinking ...," as he grabbed her by the waist, and pulled her up against him. "I was thinking I'm hungry now ..."
Tables had quickly turned, and the rosy blush on her cheeks was the immediate impact. She could play this game very well, too. She was horny as hell, and god help her, she would not be denied. "You just ate ... how can you possibly be hungry?"
"I wanna eat ... you ..." He could plainly see what she wanted in her eyes. He pulled down his underpants and kicked them aside.
"Hen-r-y-y-y-y ... but only if you're good ..." She reached down and cupped him.
"God .... but what if I don't wanna be good ..."
"Heelllooooo, my name is Eliza. Who are you, and what have you done with Henry?"
He laughed, prompting her to lean in for a kiss.
"Eliza, wait ... " She released him, as he placed his hands on her shoulders. "I want to say this, I have to say it ... you're the most extraordinary woman I've ever met, whose beauty is unmatched ..."
Eliza giggled. "Oh Henry, you did it again ..."
"Huh?"
"You called me beautiful ... even if it was indirect ... again ..."
"Eliza, please, I'm trying to bare my soul here ..."
"So you're exposing yourself to me?" Eliza said with a knowing look, revisiting that old conversation.
Henry nodded. "Okay yes, I'm exposing myself to you: body and soul. Point bees, I want this. I want you. I said it before, and I'll say it again. You are the most important person in my life. And tonight, I'm going to show you how I really feel ... how much I love you."
"I want you, too. I want you to show me. And I love you, too ..."
Over the next hour, they had sex on her couch; so swift and fierce and passionate the coupling, it had been difficult to distinguish between soft biting and hard fucking. In the second hour, they had moved into her bedroom, and began making love. They exchanged very few words; the most common of which were their respective names. During one break in the action, he voiced the thought aloud that he'd been putting his naked butt on every piece of her furniture, and he wondered if she had already done the same when she stayed at his place. She coyly said 'no', but hoped she'd have a chance to do so in the very near future.
She was slowly realizing an important truth. What had begun as a normal course of seduction as a route to the 'lust and the thrust' had transformed into lovemaking. It had all been months in the making: from business relationship, to fast friends; best friends to an actual breathing relationship. The significance was enormous. That this between them was meaningful. That they were on the verge on the "big and awesome."
In between rounds five and six, they lay next to each other in her bed for a good long breather, judging by the trouble they were having getting words out.
"Mmmm ... god ... Henry ... you always ... smell ... so good ... always ... thought ... you .. taste good ... too ..."
"Love ... how you touch ... can't stop ... Eliza ... want ... more ... of you ... "
A few minutes later, she leaned over, propped up on an elbow and studying his face. "Okay, I can't believe I'm gonna say this, but could we not have sex for a little while? I'm not saying 'no more'; I'm saying ... 'later' ..."
He opened one eye. "Yeah ... okay ... sure ... God, I think I'm feelin' my age ... because I think you've just about killed me with sex ..."
"Aww, Henry ..." She put her hand on his heart. "No one's ever said that to me before. The way things are going, I'm gonna be making you bacon and waffles in the morning. But we still have more ... I want more ..."
"Anyone ever tell you you're demanding when you're hot and horny?"
"Oh, it's possible ... ya got somethin' else to say about that?"
"Only how much I hope to test how truly effective your Kegel exercises are, and how much I hope we fuck each other good to make it worthwhile ..."
"Uh, wow. Clarify?"
"Worthwhile to bacon and waffles. And you being here with me right now? Always worthwhile; don't ever forget that ..."
"Thank you ..." she replied in a small breathy voice.
"You're welcome."
He sat up, his back propped on her many colorful pillows. A comfortable quiet descended on them, as they simply gazed at each other. He reached up and brushed aside matted strands of hair from her face.
"I'm going to get a drink of water, Eliza. Did you want a beverage, too?"
"God ..."
"What is it?"
"I'm never gonna look at you in the same way ever again. Even when you're asking me a simple question, the way you look at me ... god ... #thestruggle #loveandsexwithmybestfriend ..."
"It's good to know I've had some small positive effect on you ..."
"Sooooo unfair! And yes, I'd like a drink, too ..."
While he went to get their drinks, she got up and fetched her phone. Shuffling into the living room, she plopped onto her couch, sitting cross-legged. She typed and sent out a tweet, indicating a change in her status: from 'sexy and single' to 'deep in love'. It didn't surprise her when her claim to the Internet subsequently imploded. She didn't care; all she wanted was tell as many as people as possible that she was ... happy.
He returned with two glasses of water, and saw she was on her phone.
You can take the phone away from Eliza, but no one's going to take Eliza from the phone ...
Many minutes had passed before Eliza realized something different in the air. Finally, she looked up from her phone to find Henry sitting next to her and regarding her very intently.
"Oh!"
"Soooooo ... what about now?" Henry gave her his best smolder.
"God, Henry ... stop it!"
"You get turned on when I look at you that way, don't you?"
"Totally. And it's clear you've been looking at me for months, so I know I turn you on, too."
"Yes, guilty as charged."
"So, what's another sexual turn-on for you?" She genuinely wanted to know; she put her phone down next to the lamp and water glasses on her end table. She picked up a glass and guzzled down the water.
"Seafood," Henry replied. "Specifically: mussels; more specifically: 'moules frites'." He'd become especially fond of "mussels and fries" when he visited Belgium as part of the European trip a number of years ago.
At hearing 'mussels', Eliza remembered the time she was trying to convince Henry (and herself) how Corynn McWatters could be a good role model.
That was sooo not a good idea. Good thing Henry was around ...
She looked at him pointedly. "Mussels? 'Where they at? Where the mussels at, Henry? Huh? Huh? Wheah the mussels aaaaat ...'"
He laughed. "Good burn. Now, I realize we're both still naked. So ... uh ... I was thinking ..."
"Okaaaaaay ... what's going on in that devious mind of yours?"
"Meeeee, devious? Deviant, maybe; dirty, certainly. I was thinking: would you like to give me that lapdance now?"
"Why yes ..." She quickly adjusted her position on the couch and sat on his lap, straddling his legs. "I woooouuuuld ..."
"Well then, I'm right here." Henry grabbed and moved her hand where she could feel him twitch. She wiggled her ass and hips, and gyrated for full sexual performance. She reached down and grasped his cock and began touching him, slowly, agonizingly, deliberately along the length, and squeezing a little more at the head. A little faster, a little slower, a little rotation in her hand's slide, up and then down ...
He closed his eyes at the way she was making him feel.
"Oh my God ...," Eliza squeaked. "I gotta say it ... you look ... like ... super amazing, Henry ..."
"It's all you, Eliza," he breathed out. He opened his eyes and took a peek down below. "And what you're doing to me ... shiiiiit ..."
"I never would've imagined you soooo could talk dirty. I didn't think you even had those words in your vocabulary." She leaned back from a little so she could use both her hands: cup and stroke him at the same time.
"There are some things you don't know about me ..."
"Oh yeah? Try me ..."
"Oh, I will, Eliza: I'm definitely gonna try you ..." He shifted in her hands, just enough wriggle room to free his hand, and reached down to touch her.
She exhaled. "And then what?"
"Just maybe ... maybe ... we'll fuck some more ..." He began teasing her, probing her, and inserted a finger while his thumb began to make little circular motions.
"God dammit, what are you doing to me, Henry ..."
"Shit, Eliza, what are you doing ..."
Their arousal had climbed to critical intensity. He watched her; she was breathing rapidly. She closed her eyes for a moment to control her breathing.
"Fuck this," she breathed. "I want you ... in me ..."
She hovered above him. His hands were on her waist, she reached down to grasp him and to guide him home. When he slipped inside, they cried out with relief.
"Look at me ... " he begged.
Every jerk. Every thrust. Every move was met with a deep stilted breath. And another. Followed by another. Eyes on the other, crashing against each other.
"It ... it feels ... like I'm fly ... falling ... like ... the same time ... " She could barely speak the words, barely recognizing the difference between pleasure and love.
Her fire met his smolder, her lips took his breath; she gave him her love.
"I'm here ... hold on ... Eliza ... hang on ..." he stammered, hot and slow into her ear.
"I ... I can't ... don't ... stop ..." she breathed, on top, her red locks hanging and swinging from her face. "Baby, don't ... stop ... never stop ... don't ... leave me ..."
He just had enough strength to stop, and looking directly into her eyes, he whispered eight decisive words.
"I'm here, my dear ... come for me, Eliza ..."
Only one conclusion tonight.
Only one inevitable conclusion.
On for tonight.
They screamed each other's name in a holy prayer, inviting the little death in the present, chasing away shadows of the past. Sweat mingled with breath, arms tangled with legs, they clung to each other, as their well-being depended on their vital connection. They murmured sweet words to each other; the sound of their breathing inside and the steady pitter-patter of the light rain outside lulled them quietly into sleep.
They held on for dear life, held on for tonight, on towards morning light.
Summary: Stuck at home with a bad cold, Eliza finds out just how much Henry cares. He checks in on her, and finally follows through by giving up the last vestige of control. Both discover they get more than what either could have possibly imagined. Elements drawn from 1x01, 1x03, and 1x10.
Rated T for coarse and suggestive language. As long as I continue writing, this below is an enthusiastic 'thank-you-selfie' to "Selfie", along with gratitude to EK, KG, and JC. I've drawn some inspiration from prideandfangirling's "Honey Bears and Valentines".
This story took a huge life on its own, and I decided to split the story into multiple chapters. The story could almost work like a "series finale."
As of posting, the #saveSelfie petition has exceeded 60-thousand signatures. Congratulations to Erika Lawson and others on a big accomplishment. Even though Gillan and Harewood have signed onto new shows, no matter what happens, it's been and still is a great ride.
Chapter 1 of 4: ONSET
He looked at his watch for the umpteenth time in the last 15 minutes. He frowned, considering how she'd been much better of late about showing up to work on time. Especially now that she no longer had to spend 3 hours "upending her bed head."
Although he admitted to himself she'd look really cute with bed head ...
But anyhoo, she was very much on time for lunch; she would arrive at his office to remind him about lunch. A hungry Eliza was an impatient Eliza.
Henry poked his head out of his office. "Charlie, have you seen Eliza today?"
"Uhhhhhh no," Charlie answered, slowly yet deliberately. "I haven't. Should I call her?"
"No, thanks. I'm sure she'll show up later in the afternoon."
Charlie nodded, and returned to organizing Henry's meetings with a variety of clients over the next three days.
By mid-afternoon, she still hadn't shown up at KinderKare. Henry had cancelled all appointments and meetings for the rest of the day, and left work early. Earlier, he had lunch alone, and he finally reached the point to admitting he was worried, and by 1pm, he had called both her iPhone and landline. To his surprise (and secret delight), she answered on the latter.
"Hellooo? Henry, if this is you, this had better be good ..."
"Eliza ...!"
"Hi, Henry, how are you?"
"Hey, are you okay? You sound ... a little weird ..."
"I'm sick! Had a tickle in my throat yesterday, thought I'd beat it down last night, but woke up like abso friggin' crap this morning. Tickle turned into the cough from hell, and now my nose leaks like a ..."
"Stop right there; I don't need to know. I'm sorry you're sick, Eliza. Is there something I can do?"
The conversation paused long enough Henry was afraid their connection had cut out. "Eliza ...?"
"Still here. Uhm ... I don't want to get you sick ..."
"Eliza, you're my friend. I wouldn't have asked if I wasn't serious about helping. You don't have Ebola, do you?"
"Hah! No, but who the hell gets sick in Los Angeles?! Uuuurrgh, this feels like a bad cold." He heard muffled sniffling. "Could you do me a big favor and bring me some soup?"
"No problem. What kind of soup would you like?"
"I'd like chicken noodle soup. Could you go to the deli just down the street from me and see if they have some?"
He knew the one from the number of casual meals they had there. "Yes, I can do that. I'll pick up a couple of blueberry blintzes, if you're up for that, too."
"Thanks, Henry! You're the bes ... aaaaachhooo! Ewww, gross ..."
"T-M-I, Eliza. Be there in an hour."
Bags of food in hand, he walked through the front door to the apartment building, strode past unattended reception, and stepped into the elevator. He pressed the button labeled '3'. He was just finishing a text message to Eliza, letting her know he was on the way up.
If the elevator had been occupied with other people, they would've seen a thoughtful if distracted look to the smartly dressed man.
It was evident to Henry (and Saperstein and Charmonique) that over the last few weeks, Freddy had become uncomfortable with the new-old Eliza. Freddy, owner of the Adonis belt (whatever the hell that meant, and Charmonique hadn't been forthcoming), seemed lost around her, and alarmingly insecure in the way he related to her.
Not that Henry had noticed ... much. Ultimately, Freddy didn't seem to know where he stood with the new-and-improved Eliza.
Eliza had outgrown Freddy. She might've been hells hot for him, but it had become clear she had surpassed her desire for him. After going hot and heavy with Freddy, it was as if the flame burned and cooled just as quick. They were back to being colleagues, though his recent appearance and composure had seemed less smooth and organized.
For Henry's part, a part of him liked to think that he had some role to play in changing Eliza. But the truth was far simpler: she had done all the heavy lifting. Her strength of character had shone through. Who had returned was the young Eliza who had been true to herself all those years ago.
He was fairly certain Eliza and Freddy were no longer a couple, even as she had stopped talking about her sex life (thank god) and lately, she had stopped mentioning Freddy altogether (which was interesting). He felt better, a little more certain about reading signs or whatever cues she was willing to throw his way.
He'd also been willing to wait, but there were times he wasn't sure about those signs. Occasionally, he'd catch Eliza looking at him, and every time she'd been staring in a strange yet contemplative way.
So, Henry waited for a clear signal from Eliza. The last thing he wanted was to scare her off; on the other hand, he knew she wouldn't and shouldn't wait for him. If he wasn't careful, some guy out there would also realize how fantastic a woman Eliza really was.
He realized he'd have to step up to the plate soon, and make a pitch for the angels ... specifically, one angel ... more specifically, his red-headed angel ...
His arrival on the third floor was met with the usual "ding!" Henry stepped out of the elevator, and as he walked down the hallway to Eliza's apartment, he saw the door to 308 open. Out walked Bryn, whom he labeled as 'that cute hipster book-club pixie who knew him as someone who sucked at burns.'
"Hi, Bryn."
"Henry! Hi! What are you doing here?"
"Eliza's sick, so I thought I'd pop by."
"Really?"
"I hadn't heard from her since last night, not even a text, which was unusual ..."
"Why's that?"
"Well ... she's one of the few who sends me any texts, and she sends me a flurry of them. Every day."
"I haven't seen her today either. You called her?"
"Yeah, I talked to her a couple of hours ago."
She gave him an odd look. "Shouldn't you be at work?"
"Yes, but ... now, I'm not."
"Let me get this straight. It's the middle of the afternoon, and you took time off work to come all the way here to see if she was okay, and you brought food with you?"
"Yeah ...?"
Bryn smiled, betraying little except someone in possession of a secret that seemed to have left him, and only him, out in the cold.
"Henry, I have to let you in on something. Eliza hasn't been the greatest neighbor. Actually, she's been careless, thoughtless, irritating, ..."
He nodded, a little snort and small side-grin in acknowledgement.
"... but, she's been different of late. Her look and dress have changed; softened, actually. She wears glasses ... and they're funky! Don't tell her I said that. And she says hello and we'll have an actual conversation with complete sentences, ones that don't involve acronyms."
Bryn looked at Henry thoughtfully, her index finger tapping against her lips.
"You have something to do with that, don't you?"
"Me? What makes you say that?"
She eyed him carefully, figuring something out. "This change happened right around the time you showed up ..."
"Complete coincidence."
Bryn opened her mouth in disbelief. "Nooooo. It's not coincidence. You may be in denial, but it's plain obvious to me, Wren, Prue, Thistle, and Eyelet. We've been trying to figure out what your deal is. Especially with you and that Jerry Maguire move ..."
"That wasn't ... that wasn't what it looked like ..."
"... but it's obvious you're not together. Not yet. So we're wondering why you haven't made your move ..."
"Wait. You've all been wondering? Don't you all have better things to do?"
"Truth is, she's asked me for advice. And besides, we girls talk, and we know everything."
"Yeah, no shit," he mumbled under his breath.
"What was that?"
"Uh ... nothing."
"Sure, whatever." Bryn eyed him skeptically. "I know things got a little weird between you and Eliza, when you started dating someone else ..."
"Julia. And Eliza was dating Freddy at the time. Just how much has Eliza told you? No, wait, never mind, please don't answer that." Henry nervously scratched the back of his neck. "I had no idea I was that obvious."
"Yeah, guys are usually the last to know," she nodded.
He opened his mouth, but no comeback was forthcoming.
"You really suck at burns, you know that, don't you?"
He had to laugh at that. "I know. Between you and me, Bryn, I think Eliza and I are good together. Maybe it's time ..."
Bryn perked up. "What? Really?"
"Uh, yeah, sometime ... soon ..." His retreat was a practiced move.
She rolled her eyes. "Henry. Look, I can tell you're not a serial dater or a player. When it comes right down to it, you're serious. Too serious, perhaps, but serious when things matter. You know what she said to me one time? She said you were the only real friend she's ever had."
"I like to think you and Eliza have become friends over time, too."
"Yeah, when I'm not trying to think of ways to strangle her ..."
He laughed. "I can imagine. Thank you, thanks for telling me. You seem to have given a great deal of thought about Eliza and me." He was glad he could tell someone else how he felt, someone outside of work, even if they were Eliza's next-door neighbor. Bryn might not be his biggest fan, but he sensed she had a good heart and an equally good read of the situation.
"That involves a longer conversation, one with a bloody nose and a few bruises." She rubbed her arms, wincing at the memory. At his look of confusion, she continued. "Never mind, that's for another time. I have to get going, but really, Henry, talk to her. And good luck."
"Thanks, Bryn."
She smiled, leaving him alone with his thoughts, and walked to the elevator.
"Hey, Bryn? One more thing ..."
She turned to look at him. "What's that, Henry?"
"If no one's mentioned this before, thank you for Eliza's 'make under' awhile back for a work wedding event. Given what I know of how she's behaved with you and others in book club, your help was very kind and generous."
"You'll have to tell me how that went some time."
He chuckled at the memory. "Yes, well, now that involves a longer conversation, too."
"I'm sure. You should know Wren and Eyelet were there to help, too. See you ..."
He watched her step into the elevator, before turning around to knock on the door marked '307'.
The door opened to an unexpected sight.
Chapter 2 of 4: #thestruggle
A red-headed woman appeared, wrapped up to her neck in blankets. Poking through the bottom of her cocoon were sock-covered feet enveloped in pink bunny-eared slippers. Although shorter, her neck-long hair was tied up in a bun, stray strands angled in crazy directions. She wore no makeup, but had her glasses on. An unusual sight, perhaps, but not so strange for a person with a bad cold. She might've looked disheveled, but damn, he thought to himself, he really liked the way those glasses looked on her. She looked like the most beautiful creature in the world.
Whoa there, Higgs. "Hey ..."
"Hey! Come on in, Henry; sorry about the mess ..."
He looked down at the strewn debris of battle. Little mounds of used tissue scattered like spent artillery. A pile of fashion magazines. A plate here, fork and knife there; a couple of cups and dirty plates completed the picture.
"Don't worry about it." I'll have to do something about the mess once I'm sure she's asleep, he thought. He held up the bags of food. "I was going to put this away, unless you feel up to eating now."
"Oh yeah, the smells just hit me. I'm hells haaaangry ..."
"OK. Sit yourself on the couch, and I'll bring out a bowl of soup."
She reached out, grabbing his arm. "Thank you, Henry," she said in a small voice. "I'd hug you, but I'm ... uh ..."
"Sick?" He smiled, indulging her with the obvious.
"Yeah, obvs." She replied in a small voice, pouting a little in self-pity. "Totes ..."
He gave her a quick smile, squeezing her hand.
She shuffled to the couch, sat down, and rearranged the blankets around her. She leaned back, looking into the open kitchen adjacent to her living room. With all the time they'd spent here, she liked that he was at ease and familiar in her apartment.
Except her bedroom ...
She had already decided awhile ago she liked seeing him putter about in her place. She got a big rush of the warm fuzzy feels, his familiar presence comfortably navigating among drawers and cupboards in her kitchen.
Henry found a serving tray on which he placed a spoon, a knife, a square of paper towel for a napkin, a bowl of steaming chicken-noodle soup, a plate with a fresh bagel cut in half, and a pat of butter on the side.
"Here you go." He placed the tray on the circular end table next to the couch. "I hope you don't mind, but I put the blintzes in your fridge for the time being."
"You take such good care of me," she said unthinkingly. She looked up to see if he caught that. He did, his eyebrows raised high. She didn't even try to take it back.
After an awkward pause, he replied. "I try ...."
"Sometimes, I think I don't deserve it."
"Nonsense, Eliza. It's what friends do."
She giggled softly. "Friends ... you know that might be the first time we've said that out loud."
"Really? Yeah, well, we are ... now eat, before the soup gets cold."
She pushed the blankets aside and reached for the soup. He returned to the kitchen for his take-out container. By the time he returned to the couch, she was slurping away at her soup.
"Hungry, were you?" He said with a smile.
"Yeah, very ... what did you get? Don't tell me: another salad?"
"No, not a salad."
She stopped. "Whaaat? Who are you, and what did you do with Henry? You didn't get salad?"
"I don't always get salad, you know." He said a little defensively.
"Uh hello, I'm Eliza: nice to meet you. As the undisputed King of Salad, you're so deep in the roughage, even the leaves are green with envy."
He laughed at that. "Good burn. I thought I'd eat something different today."
"Please don't make me guess! What'd you get?"
He reached into the container. "I got a sesame bagel with cream cheese and lox."
Whoa, she thought. One, that looks gooood; and two, time to play ...
She placed the soup slowly and carefully back down onto the tray. She leaned over to him, turning on the charm. "Henrrrryyyyy, can I have some?"
He was immune to her charm ... most of the time. "Eliza, you have a perfectly good bagel, right in front of you."
"Yes, I'm good, but yours is even better; yours has cream cheese and lox."
"Oh, I see. And this is your idea of being 'good'?"
"Henry, do you want to see me 'bad'?"
See, this was what he was talking about, the odd looks, and the uptempo in innuendo.
He swallowed the sudden lump in this throat, for precisely two reasons.
One, if this was flirting (because he was kinda sure it was), this could go ... well ... bad. So bad that it could be good ... really good in fact ... no, wait ...
Two, if it was just about the lox (because he was sure it was also about the lox), then he could simply relent and stop this dangerous game.
Either way, this would probably not end well for him.
Which could be bad. Or good.
He shook his head, and saw Eliza looking at him expectantly.
"Fine, but ..." He stopped her just as she sprung for his bagel. "Wait! I'm going to cut a piece for you. There's no way you're going to take a bite of that. I don't want to catch your cold ..."
"Oh, please, I bet you twenty you'll catch my cold in the next 72 hours."
Well, those were plain 'fighting words.' "You're on ... and no, I'm not shaking your hand. But the bet? It's on."
Shuffling her bagel onto the tray, he put his bagel onto the plate and cut off a quarter-portion. As he returned the plate to her, she grabbed the portion and ate hungrily.
"Thank you, Henrrryyyyy."
"You're most welcome." He placed her untouched bagel onto the plate, and back onto her tray.
"Mmmmm, awwww, the noms, so good ..."
"Glad you like it. Now please finish your soup."
He knew her well enough to know she was probably not going to finish her bagel, and began spreading some butter before cutting her bagel into quarter sections.
They ate in companionable silence, occasionally looking at each other, either in warm gratitude or with unresolved longing. Sometimes, gratitude and longing would switch unknowingly from one person to the other, then back again.
She finished her soup, a quarter of his bagel, and half of her own bagel.
"Have you had enough to eat? I could bring the blintzes, if you want something sweet."
"No, that's okay." She leaned back on the couch in a slouch, patting her full belly. "Totes full; thank you."
With results of their lunch gathered to the side, he leaned back, next to her on the couch. "Don't mention it."
"Oh, I think I ate too much ..." She stuck her lower lip out, seeking extra sympathy.
"Awwww, poor baby ..." he replied. Acting on impulse, he reached out and gently rubbed her belly. "Does that feel better?"
"Yyy-e-a-sss ..."
"Uhm ... do ... do you want me to stop?"
"No ... don't ... please don't stop ..."
"Okay ..."
They could not stop looking at each other.
Long warm minutes passed. Suddenly uncomfortable at their quiet newfound intimacy, she gently put her hand on his to stop his movements. "I'm thirsty."
"I'll get you some water ..."
"No, that's all right; I'll get it."
He closed his eyes, thinking he'd done something wrong or scared her. She read him very easily, and while she wanted him to open his eyes and see that it was in fact okay, she was feeling a little raw from his gentle touch (strokes!) to talk about what was happening between them.
She got to her feet when her world started spinning. "Whoa ..."
"Hey, I've got you ...". He stood quickly at her side, catching her by the arms and preventing her fall.
Even though she had an inch or two on him, he lifted and carried her in his arms.
"Guess I've still got some way to go before I get better ..."
He glanced worriedly at her. "Eliza, let's get you back into bed ..."
Normally, she'd be all over that little gem. All she had in reply was looping her arms and hands around his neck.
He gently put her back in bed, ensuring her head and neck were fully supported by pillows, and she was sufficiently warm under blankets. He made a quick check, and after a couple of minutes in and out of her bedroom, he placed a box of tissues and a glass of water onto her bedside table.
She was quickly out, snoring lightly. Satisfied she was comfortable, he returned to her living room to collect the remnants of their lunch and begin tidying up her place.
He collected and washed the dishes, followed by the collection and disposal of her garbage. He dared not touch the mass and piles of clothes in various places around her living room: on the top of the couch, on her one-seater, on her small round table, and on the rolling racks. He might push her on certain things, but on clothes? He knew that'd be a very fiery angry bridge too far.
All done, he collapsed on her couch, stretching out for a quick nap. Normally averse to someone else's blankets, he found to his surprise that in this very specific situation he didn't care. He could admit he probably had been exposed to whatever she had. But fact is he liked the delicate floral smell, which was a contrast to the "heavier touch" she usually applied. He dug out one of her blankets and covered himself. He closed his eyes, secretly soaking up her scent, the vision of Eliza providing comfort, as he drifted farther and farther away ...
He awoke to a small sound, briefly disoriented by his surroundings. He checked his watch; he'd been asleep for a couple of hours. He stood and moved towards her bedroom to have a look at how she was doing.
He stepped inside her bedroom and stopped at the foot of her bed. She was fully buried underneath blankets, but he could hear her breathing was a little uneven. She was awake.
"Henry?" A small muffled voice came from beneath the layered pile.
"Yes, Eliza?"
"Thank you."
"You're wel ..."
"No, really," as she pushed back the blankets, ensuring no ambiguity as she looked at him. "Thank you, I mean it."
In moments where instant decisions are made, he'd later reflect that this particular moment was very important. He didn't run, he didn't leave. He didn't speak, he didn't stammer.
He stepped around to her side of the bed. Her eyes followed him, as he sat at the edge of her bed. He gazed openly at her, one of the few times where he could really look, no longer hindered by the social aspects of keeping niceties and appropriate distance. His eyebrows furrowed, his breathing quickened; his eyes never wavered from hers. He felt a deep wave, rising from within, something warm, peaceful, soothing, adoring.
He reached out with his hand and gently parted wayward strands of hair, away from her eyes, tucking her hair behind her ears.
She closed her eyes at this tender touch, and leaned towards him when he cupped her cheek, his thumb slowly caressing her skin.
He marveled at her; her eyes open again, huge, round, full of life; an open window to all sorts of intriguing possibilities. She put her hand against his, trapping his hand against her cheek.
Silence continued along with quiet sounds of their breathing.
"What are we doing?" she asked in a whisper, breaking the spell.
He chuckled softly. "Isn't that supposed to be my line?"
She laughed, which led to a bout of hacking cough. They released their hold on each other. Breaking contact made them ache fiercely with the loss of the other's warmth.
Henry stood. "I'm going to make you some hot tea ... but uh ... do you have tea?"
"Yes, I do," she replied, practically rolling her eyes. "There's some herbal stuff in the kitchen." He had already walked into the kitchen, when he could hear her yell out to him. "I've got honey in the cupboard! Some honey in my tea, too, please ..."
Henry returned with a steaming mug of tea in hand. She sat up in bed, against pillows and blankets bunched around her waist. She was on her iPhone, no doubt checking up on everything she was missing.
"Here you go ... be careful, it's very hot ..."
"Thanks ..."
"I put in a teaspoon of honey, so it's not too sweet."
"OK." She sipped carefully at the hot liquid.
He looked down at her uncertainly, a troubled look on his face.
"Henry, what's wrong?"
"Can we talk? I know it might not be the right time, with you being sick and all ..."
"Helloooo, have we met? When is the right time with us? Hashtag-the-struggle ..."
He chuckled. "I guess you're right."
"Yes, I am." She smiled with the familiar conviction that was pure Eliza. She set the mug gingerly on the nightstand. "Sit here next to me, and spill."
He hesitated, but with the "no fear" mantra screaming in his head, he sat next to her covered legs. The warmth he felt from her underneath the blankets was assuredly in his mind: wasn't it?
"Eliza ... I ..."
She put her hands on his for comfort and support. "Seriously. You can talk to me."
"Okay." He started again. "Sometimes ... you scare the hell outta me."
Her eyes opened wide. "What is that supposed to mean?"
Chapter 3 of 4 : SURRENDER
Henry slowed his breathing, steeling himself. "Do you remember what you told me the first day we met?"
"What, how you didn't like me?"
"I never said that ..."
"You totally did ..."
"Okay, well ... I might've mentioned how you weren't very well liked at work ..."
She tilted her head at him. "You used the word 'despised' ..." The tone in her voice challenged him to disagree.
"Yes, okay, I said that, too, but what I was trying to point out ... was how you said you had no real friends."
"Oh. That."
"Yeah, that. All the same, I don't have many non-work friends other than our colleagues at work."
"You don't have any non-work friends ..."
"Eliza, you're killing me here ... and I'm trying to make a point ..."
"Sorry ..."
"Out of all the people you chose to help you, I was a ... less than ideal choice. It's like you said: I'm an unfun, anti-social, hypercritical workaholic ..."
She winced, hearing her own words echoed back in a less than complimentary manner. She didn't like it when anyone spoke poorly of him, especially Henry himself. The wince turned to a gut twinge when she remembered her own unkind thoughts about Henry. But that was then, and this was now.
"Funny thing is, people at work have become friends. Charmonique, though I suspect she wants me to become Kevin's alternate "father figure". Larry, despite his heinous breath and inexplicable love of tearaway suits and flashmobs. Linda, Raj, and yes, when he isn't pulling some batshit crazy stunt, even Freddy, when he isn't being a ..."
"Don't say it .."
" ... frenemy ..."
"Uuuugggghh, when you say it, that word sucks ...."
"Sam and his family: they like us, too. And by the way, you and I have been invited for a casual weekend getaway for a return to Rancho de Saperstein in Santa Barbara."
"We're not ... together. Do they know that?"
"I was reluctant to bring it up, but I think they invited us so we could get together. It's another reason why I'm bringing this up, why I'm talking about ...." He motioned the space between them with his hands. "... About us."
She nodded. She couldn't run if she wanted to, and besides, she wanted him to talk. And talk he was doing, even if a part of her wanted to crawl and hide under the covers.
"Besides, Sam told me the entire family really liked having you around, which means this time? If we go? I'll be the plus-one."
She burst out laughing. Conscious of her cough, she reached over for her mug of tea and took a big sip. "The way it's always supposed to be ..." She stuck her tongue out at him.
"Hey! But seriously, yeah, we'll say hi to Oprah, go for walks around the lake, minus the skinny-dipping. We might even go horse-riding ..."
She smiled at that, remembering that classic life-defining moment very fondly. "Wait ... I thought you hated that shit, Henry ..."
"I do ... I did. But it's your shit I've come to like ..."
And oh, how she blushed at that! An adorable rosy shade on her cheeks countered the nervous look in her eyes. If he had dared to stop, he might have called her adorable, rumpled, and fetching.
"It comes down to you, Eliza." he continued. "I wasn't having any fun until you came along and completely disrupted my ordered, regularly-scheduled, well-meaning, boring life. Crushed it into a million pieces, and pieced them back together in crazy shapes and wonderful colors. Your fingerprints are all over my life. You're the most important person in my life. "
"I am? You really think that way about me?"
"Absolutely. We spend a lot of time together, and we've become close friends. Wouldn't you agree?"
"Yes, but I ... I never thought about it much until now. Or put it so much into words." She was only fibbing to give themselves a possible out.
"Who's lying now?"
"Whaa ..."
"You never thought about it? Because let me tell you, I'll never wear that black jacket in the same way ever again."
"Okay! Okay! I admit it ... I admit there was a moment when I was thinking about you ... " All the time ....
"We never talk about it."
"About ..." She knew where he was going, but she was afraid to revisit her misery and heartbreak.
He reached over, taking her mug and placing it onto the night stand. He wrapped his hands around hers.
"Eliza, I'm so sorry. I'm very sorry I rejected you. I'm sorry I hurt you."
"I pushed you ... and ... you weren't ready ..." She couldn't look at him in the eyes.
"Eliza, please look at me ..." He gently tipped her chin to face him.
Her pain had dulled over time with his enduring presence and the soothing solace of their friendship, but his rejection still had the might to wound.
"Eliza, you were right. Every word of it."
"And because my feels got real, they ... I made you face the way you felt about me. And that's why you ran."
"Exactly. And why was I afraid? Why it is that you still scare me? I realized I didn't want to jeopardize what we have, what we were, what we are to each other. I've never had anyone in my life like you."
She took his hands in hers. "You've spent months trying to impress upon me the value of manners, good behavior, and the long game when it comes to making friends. You dropped it, I got it: some wisdom, your time, your respect, and your friendship. I was listening. I was paying attention. I know you were paying attention, too; so you should've seen the signs, too. And because I let you in, first the bits and pieces, and then they became a bigger portion of my life ... Henry ... seriously, you should've trusted me."
Her words were quiet, said without hostility. And yet, they stuck like little knives.
"I know ... do you forgive me?"
"I forgave you awhile ago, but I didn't forget. I didn't think I wanted to talk about it, and I def thought you didn't either. Soooo now, your thinking has changed?"
"Not just my thinking, Eliza ... my feelings have changed."
That brought a little smile from her. "Care to share?" Hit by fatigue, she yawned. "Sorry ..."
"It's okay. I've learned there's no such thing as an ideal time. That's something you taught me, Eliza: to live in the moment. And it's time. This is the moment. But I'm afraid, of how you might react. That I'm being so forward ... after all this time. It's just that I ... I have to ... I want to tell you ... that ... "
He swallowed and looked away. He removed his hands from hers, and dry-washed his face with one hand. He looked away, took another deep breath, and began again.
"I read a description sometime ago which I think is appropriate here. Sometimes, I think we're all about "blood and thunder": heart-pumping situations that are grand and special. And sometimes, I think we've become mired in the "thud and blunder", and how we're each making bad choices and we're fumbling around, lost in the dark. Because we're unable to take that last step together."
"I understand there's a part of you who will always feel a little abandoned. The way you felt all those years ago when your parents broke up and divorced, birthdays alone, eating lunch at school on your own, when Bethany went off to college. So you put it all on yourself, to change the old Eliza into the new one. You modeled yourself into someone like Corynn McWatters, so you didn't have to face the world with your 'real self.' But when you found out she stole your story to become successful, you felt abandoned again."
He couldn't look back to her; afraid if he did, he'd freeze on the spot. Hearing a soft agreeable "mmm hmm", he paused for another moment to gather himself.
"But now, this time, you felt you had completely surrendered your old self all those years ago, and you thought she'd never come back. She's always been there; she never left. I've seen it, I've felt it. And every time I look at you, I see in your eyes those different parts to Eliza Dooley. The lonely young girl who has a big heart, the amazing confident woman who sees what she wants and who won't take crap from anyone. The more time I spent with you, the more I got to know you, the more I got to really see this wonderful side of you. And ... I fell in love with that woman."
He swallowed the lump in his throat.
"And I see the way you look at me, the way your eyebrows scrunch up and there's a little wrinkle right above your nose. You don't think I know, but I notice. I notice the way you look at me; I love the way you look at me. I know for a fact you feel this thing between us, too. I want more, and I think you want more, too. I don't want to threaten our friendship, but I'll make this promise, that no matter what happens, I won't abandon you. Does ... does that ... make any sense to you?"
He exhaled slowly. She seemed awfully quiet, and he was afraid to turn and see disappointment or pity. He turned his head to look.
She was asleep.
You have got to be kidding me. He made a small noise in irritation, and looked up to the ceiling.
Of course, she's asleep. Well, she's got a bad cold. And making her deal with this long-awaited conversation probably took a lot out of her. I can understand that.
Yes, he was frustrated; no, he was not discouraged. He supposed there would be another time to continue the conversation. Trouble is he had spent his saved-up emotional currency. Did he still have enough in the bank to spend it on her again?
Yes, she's worth every penny.
Her eyes were closed, a small smile on her face, her normal breathing punctuated by a slight snore. Careful not to wake her, he removed her glasses gently from her face, and set them down on the end table. He got up from her bed, and tucked the rest of the blankets up by her shoulders. He walked to the bedroom door, and turned once more to look at her. He stepped out, gently closing the double doors behind him.
He was exhausted. The emotional strain had taken a toll, and its release, however healthy, open, and necessary, demanded replenishment. He threw himself onto the couch, threw a blanket over him, and he was 'lights out'.
The little noises from the living room eventually subsided to a quiet calm.
In the bedroom, her breathing slowly increased and she opened her eyes.
She heard everything. Every single word.
Twenty minutes later, the thought kept repeating in her head.
I'm trapped in my own apartment ... but I could go out, and I'll see him in my living room. Whether I'll be able to look him in the eye might be another matter entirely ... and ... now that I know ... he loves me ...
She need not have worried. She still felt wretched. Her mug was empty, and she wanted more tea. She'd have to go out at some point, and face him ...
Slowly, he stirred awake. He pushed the blankets to the side against the couch. He pushed his legs out and over, and sat up, rubbing his face with his hands.
Checking his watch told him he'd been out for thirty minutes. He stood up and raised his hands in the air, stretching out the kinks in his back. He never would have imagined the instructional sessions he had here with Eliza were also in turn educational for him.
He now had a rare opportunity to take in the surroundings and gaze freely at her drawings on the apartment walls. He'd spent enough time here to know she harbored a a wildly creative side. Judging by the wonderfully colorful chalk sketches on the black portions of her apartment's walls, there were shopping motifs with big desires and equally large wish-lists for new shoes and purses, as well as a number of etiquette tips he'd passed along to her.
The tip written over her bedroom doors read: 'Don't eat over the TRASH CAN.'
Another two things in her living room caught his eye. Between the old fireplace and her one-seater, he found a red waste bin with an old fashioned red English telephone booth on the side; it was the same one he had Charlie buy for her. She did say it was 'cute', but he thought it was 'super cute' she had kept it as a keepsake. Next to her bedroom doors was a drawing of a cloud with the words "shoes shoes shoes" and underneath was a small red heart pierced with an arrow. Inside the heart were the initials "S.Q. + B.B.".
'Social Queen' and 'Bore-ah Bore-ah': one of their inside jokes.
They had once talked about places where they wanted to go on vacation: she wanted to go to Hong Kong for the shopping and fast WiFi, and he wanted to go to Bora Bora. She had mocked him, because it sounded so "boring boring."
He had been offended then. Now he felt affection and longing. Oh how he wanted to barge back into her bedroom, wake her up, and kiss her snot-covered face. The desire was overwhelming.
He found a piece of colored chalk, and next to "S.Q. + B.B.", he wrote a note in large hard-to-miss letters.
This chicken is no longer afraid. I'm ready. Are you? B.B.
He could erase it and she'd never be the wiser. But he wasn't afraid any more, and there were no takebacks.
He set down the chalk, and returned to the couch. He was neatly folding the blankets when the bedroom doors opened.
A rumpled looking Eliza shuffled towards him. She appeared half-awake, face contorted in hazy sleep, lips twitching in irritation.
She padded past him and plopped herself onto the couch.
"Can I stop being sick now?" she looked up at him forlornly.
He sat down next to her, draping her shoulders with one arm, holding her free hand with the other. She looked at him tentatively, even though he was looking at their joined hands. Decision made, she leaned against him, her head resting against his shoulder.
"Sucks being sick ...," he observed.
"Don't I know it ... unnh, tummy's feelin' funny ..."
"I'm sorry ..."
She grabbed his hand and placed it flat on her belly. The warm feels bubbled and flowed freely. He held her comfortably for a few minutes, before recognition struck Henry.
"Hey, I just remembered. I also got you some ginger ale just in case, and it's in my car. Would you like me to get it? It's no trouble ..."
"Could you ....?"
He squeezed her. "I'll go get it."
He walked to the front door and turned around. "I won't be long." He closed the door quietly behind him.
With the front door closed, she sat up at the edge of the couch, her thoughts racing a mile a minute. They were on the rapid road to being together. She could almost taste it, the delicious promise of something wonderful within reach.
He hadn't been gone for more than a couple minutes, but she missed him terribly. She was already pining, totes hard, even though they weren't even a couple! She smiled with that realization, that same understanding on that very night she broke up with Freddy the first time. A rush of the feels ...
She turned around for the bedroom when something caught her eye. Something was different in the room ...
And there underneath the cloud of "shoes shoes shoes", she saw it.
She read the message she didn't write. And then, she read it again.
Her first reaction? She melted, a warm bubbling up from somewhere inside her gut, stretching upwards, enveloping her heart, and continuing upwards, when finally, the warmth reached her brain.
And her second reaction? There were a few tears. Very happy tears.
She knew what she had to do next.
Chapter 4 of 4 : FULL CIRCLE
He almost made it out the building's front door.
Audio notification on his mobile: text message received.
From the only person who texted him regularly.
He reactivated his phone and read the new message. He was surprised she found his note so quickly; he was equally surprised by her swift response.
---E: Totes ready. I'm ready for us. Like no-bullshit legit ready. #thetimeisnow
---E: Happy you caught up. But don't make me wait. LOL ;) :-* <3
He wore the face of a happy hopeful man.
---H: I'll be quick; I'm coming back.
He retrieved the case of ginger ale from his car, and flush with her emojis, he returned to her building. Walking up to the elevator, he passed an elderly gentleman now attending reception. Unfortunately, the elevator had returned to the top floor. He pressed the "up" button. He pressed it again. And again. And again.
Does this button even do anything?! What's the point of this button?, he thought, unknowingly echoing from what the annals of Eliza-and-Henry would be known as "the elevator incident."
As the man at reception eyed the guest furiously pressing buttons in the elevator, Henry looked over apologetically. "Sorry ..."
A very long minute later, the elevator arrived on the ground floor with a friendly "ding!"
As he pressed the button for '3', he received another text.
---E: `SUP?
The phrase had become something of another inside joke between them. But this was no query, because this was simply a very impatient Eliza.
---H: `SUP, yourself. Elevator took its damn sweet time.
---E: `SSSSUP?!
---H: Eliza ... I'm almost there.
---E: SRS, dude. Not. Fast. Enough.
He laughed.
---H: SRSLY.
He shut off the phone and tucked it away. He might have been her mentor (plainly ignoring the word "elder"), but where the art of texting was concerned, he had learned from one of the best in social media.
When the elevator door opened on the third floor, he walked out into the hallway and turned left to find the door to 307 wide open. An expectant Eliza stood in the doorway, left arm extended with her hand against the door jamb; head bent low; bright knowing eyes beaming at him.
He swallowed the lump in his throat. "Uh, you're sick, and you should be in bed ...," he said from the hallway, approaching her front door.
"If you think that way and feel that way, why did you come back?" She asked, her chin jutting out defiantly, both hands now on her hips.
He held up a case of Canada Dry in the air. "I got you your ginger ale."
She nodded, a little smile on her face, still enormously touched he remembered that little detail.
He walked right up to her. "Besides, I care about you. I want to make sure you get better as quickly as possible."
"I'll feel a whole lot better once you're inside, Henry." She stepped to the side, allowing him just enough space to enter her apartment.
"Guess I'll just have to make sure ...", he said as he walked past her, making sure he trailed his hand on her shoulder, squeezing her arm, and trailing off at her fingers. " ... that I tuck you in myself ..."
"Henry, you tease!" She closed the door to her apartment, and turned to face him. "Right now, I'm not thinking about tucking, but something else that rhymes with tucking ..."
Having placed the case of ginger ale on the floor next to her couch, he turned to her, looking suitably scandalized.
"Eliza!"
"Henry, I know you're thinking about it too; don't lie to me."
"It's not exactly a lie if I'm not actually thinking about it ..."
She made a face. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Well ... okay ... yes ... I'm thinking about it, too ..."
"AHA! That's more like it ... aaaaaaahccchooooo! Euurrrgh!" Embarrassed, she went in search for a tissue or two.
"Wait, I have some for you ..." He removed his jacket and reached in his pocket for a packet of tissues, coming equipped just for the occasion.
"Thannng yuuu ..." she replied through a wad of tissues. She blew her nose a couple of times and tossed the wad aside onto the floor.
"Elizaaaa," he said in his most long-suffering Higgsian tone. "I just picked up all the crap you had on your floor ..."
"Oh sorry." She looked sheepish. "Thank you, you really didn't have to."
The corner of his mouth turned up in a half-smile. "It's okay. I wanted to."
"Right now, there is one thing I'd like to do."
"What's that?"
"It's this ..." She grabbed him by his shirt collar, hooking her arms behind his neck, and running her fingers through his hair. He had no choice but to hold her by the waist.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, I am. Unless I really am grossing you out ..."
"No! No ... I came back up here to tell you in person: I'm ready."
"I don't know, Henry. I think this image you have of me right now might be a little butt ..."
"No, you aren't. I personally guarantee that the person I'm seeing right now is most ... definitely ... not ... butt. What I see is my beautiful friend with perfectly symmetrical features and hair like Ariel." She blushed, looking briefly away. "But I would like to ask," he continued. "Do you think you're a better person?" He smiled at their little game, going back to their very first conversation.
Her eyes fluttered back to his, and her smile shone brightly. "Yes, thanks to you. And with you here, with me: totes ... a-ly ..."
He leaned in the rest of the way and pressed his lips to hers.
To share a kiss. To taste her breath. To seal what had been a long time in coming.
After a long slow heated gentle brush of their lips, she tilted her head to look at him. "Oh my God, Henry. What took you so long?"
He smiled, his eyes softened, apologizing with a look he couldn't say out loud.
"It's okay; I get it." Eliza continued. "You getting legit feels?"
"That is entirely within the realm of plausibility." He brought a hand up to cup her cheek. "I believe in you, and I believe in 'us.'" And he smoothly slipped his hands again around her waist, stroking and caressing her through her shirt.
The way he was touching her was stoking something hot and elemental. "And there it is again, that smolder ..."
"I don't know what that means ..."
"It's the way you look at me sometimes ... would you like to know when I started having feelings for you?"
"Do tell." He was genuinely curious.
"You asked me to eat lunch with you, and we shared our first lunch over a trash can ..."
"... the one that's sitting here in your living room?"
She smiled. "You found it, did you? I was wondering when you were going to find it."
"Really? You left it lying around, so I'd eventually see it? A hint?"
"Uh huh. But like seriously, I def had a super big case of the feels. And I couldn't stop looking at you."
"Yeah, I'm going to have to seriously revise my score, because on a scale of 1-to-10, you're a ..."
"... better be higher, because for the record, my initial score of 6 was higher than yours ... " she warned him with a smirk and a raised eyebrow.
He laughed. "You're my 10, Eliza. It'll be my honor and privilege to show you every day just how true that is."
Henry led her to the couch. He sat back fully and she sat on him astride, one hand on his chest, the other in his hair. He tightened his arms around her.
"Good. I'm glad. How about you? Do you remember when you started having feelings for me?"
"Yes, I do. We had just finished babysitting Kevin, and we figured out how to save our best-selling orange elephant vitamin. We finished our presentation the following day, and you went over to join Freddy, while I had a chat with Saperstein. He made a comment about us, and there was a moment where you looked at me, and I looked at you ... and I thought, maybe ... that there was something between us. It was the spark, a hope it could come true."
"What did Saperstein say?"
"He said we'd make exquisite offspring ...
"Really! And what did you have to say to that little gem?"
"That red-headed Koreans weren't a good look ... typically."
"Typically, huh? Well, you should know I'm not typical ...." She smiled, and leaned forward.
"No, you certainly are not ..."
For the next few minutes, they focused only on kissing and on expressing what they were feeling through mouths, stroking, probing, and caressing.
"Mmmm ...," she ran her tongue across his lips. "You do realize we have a couple name: specifically, Heliza; more specifically, hashtag-Heliza."
Because it'd be completely out of character if he didn't ask, he pulled a classic 'Henry'.
"Okay, first of all, what is 'Heliza'? Second, there's a thing called couple names? Third, we have a hashtag?!"
"Relax, Henry. First of all, our names, Henry and Eliza, smushed together becomes 'Heliza'. H-E-L-I-Z-A, get it? Hell yes, to the second. Third, I want us as a couple to become a Twitter trend, even if it's just me tweeting about it. Unless ... of course ... you'd prefer I not tweet about it?"
"No, no, that's all right. I don't mind if you shout our status to the world. I know it's self-serving of me to say, but it feels good to know you want to shout us out from the rooftops. Besides, you know what you're doing with social media, and I trust you."
"Awwwwww, thank you Henry; that's super sweet of you to say."
"You're welcome. Hey, I just thought of something ..."
"What's that?"
"With Heliza, if you switch the 'i' and the 'z', that spells "Helzia", which is pronounced 'Hells-yeah!'"
She groaned then laughed. "O-M-G, that's terrible!"
His eyes opened wide, another realization giving him a humorous shock.
"What?"
"I just got it. You and Freddy were ... 'Frey-za' ... which rhymes with 'Scheisse'!"
"Awwww, Heeeennnryyyyy ... stop it ... don't mock me ... besides he's history and you're here now ..." She stuck her lower lip out for pouty emphasis.
"OK, ok, I'll stop. And yes, I'm here. I'll always be here." He reached up with his hand and teased her lower lip with his thumb. "Besides, you can't blame a noobie for trying," he smirked knowingly.
"Yeah, you're my lovable noobie ..."
"Well, when you put it that way ..."
Their second kiss was slower, relaxed, caring, intimate; nibbling on each other's lips; learning and savoring the taste and texture of each other's lips, teeth, and tongues.
She drew back, a finger on his lip. "And ... I ... I heard you. What you said to me in the bedroom."
"What? I thought you'd fallen asleep."
"Uh huh, I know." she replied affirmatively. "In the past, I often felt like I was easy to abandon. I know a lot of it isn't true. But truth is, Henry, you gave me feels, and I wanted to hear everything you had to say to me. Without scaring you away, or scaring you from stopping. Are you mad at me?"
"No, I'm not mad. Really, I'm not. You heard everything?"
"Yeah. I'm sorry."
"Don't be. Honestly, as much as I'm terrified of screwing up, what I trust most is our friendship. A lot comes from that, and where we go is based on that solid foundation. You are the most important person in my life."
"I'm happy to hear you say that. I'm glad you're my friend: you're my best friend."
"You are too; sometimes, I think you're my only friend."
"I think it's safe to say we feel the same way about each other. But I still have issues about self-esteem and abandonment. " Eliza admitted. "And you have your own issues of insecurity and keeping people away. "
"I do, yes."
"So, we're really going to do this?"
"Yes, we are. I don't want to go back to the way things were," he said with conviction. "And I don't think you do, too."
"No, I don't."
"As I've been trying to tell you, Eliza ... I know you. And ... I worship you."
"I know you do." She rested her hands on his chest. "I defs don't want to go back to just friends. I want more."
"You deserve more. And I do, too."
Her lips turned up. "Yes, you do," she replied softly.
"Come on," Henry pulled on her hand. "Let's get you into bed."
"Oh really?" She waggled her eyebrows.
He laughed. "Not right now, and before you pout," as she stuck her lower lip out, "I want our first time to happen when you're fully healthy. Please believe me; I want you. A lot, actually, but I also know I want you when we're both on the same page in every way ... with us as equals."
Her pout unabated, she had to give him props. "You're right. I don't like it, but you're right."
"Whoa! Eliza Dooley, did you just say I was right?! Because I may have to mark this moment for posterity ..."
"Heeeyyy!"
"J/K ..." He couldn't stop smiling now.
"Ha-ha. You're ..." She poked him in the chest. "You're hilarious. Now stop copying my lines, and get me into bed."
"Okay. But there's one more thing."
"What's that?"
"I ... I love you, Eliza ... very much."
"Thank you, " she replied in a tiny whisper. "I love you, too ..."
They sealed their declaration with a slow kiss. Reluctantly, they parted.
"Henry, I'm cold. Please get me into bed ..."
"Yes, dear ..." He leaned over and kissed the top of her head.
They shuffled towards the bedroom. His arm was around her shoulders, hers around his waist; her head leaning against his shoulder.
Less than 48 hours later, Henry began sneezing, wheezing, and coughing. Reluctantly, he forked over a 20-dollar bill to Eliza, lying next to him in bed. At the very least, they were in his big bed this time. She was just as familiar with his place, as he was with hers. She made it a point of being at home with him, and to take good care of him.
She didn't exactly cook for him, but she got him chicken noodle soup, and when his own hacking cough improved, she got him an order of salad.
With grilled chicken on top.
Accompanied by a glass of ginger ale.
Sure, that Siri bitch was helpful and all, but looking at Henry now asleep, she couldn't imagine a better person, a better friend, a better partner. Sure, he was far from perfect, but together, they made great harmony, a winning combination.
She recognized the enormity of the last two days. The promise she made to herself - about Henry and her getting together or else - had come true. There was no "else"; there was never any other option.
She leaned over to kiss him on the forehead, fingering strands of his hair on the top of his head. She lay next to him, pulling the covers over them both. She watched him sleep in wonderment and with affection. She shuffled closer and draped her arm over his chest, and listened to him breathe, until her eyes became heavy, and she fell asleep.
Minutes later, he opened his eyes to a very warm presence next to him. Gingerly, he lifted his trapped arm out of the way, and wrapped his arm around her. She made a little purring noise in her sleep, and she moved in, tucking her head against his neck. He brushed her hair aside, and kissed her on the cheek.
Eliza, my Ariel: to have found you, for you to want me, I'm the luckiest guy in the world.
