Cookies 'n' Cream 27, Rainbow Sherbet 9: Nothing Else Will Do
Title: Nothing Else Will Do
Main Story: In the Heart
Flavors, Toppings, Extras: Cookies 'n' cream 27 (push), rainbow sherbet 9 (white), malt (PFAH: Joanna : i'm not listening when you say 'goodbye'), rainbow sprinkles (Hugh and Joanna), pocky chain.
Word Count: 800
Rating: PG.
Summary: He tried, oh, he tried to let her go, but somehow he could never quite manage it.
Notes: And now, some fluff for Hugh and Joanna. Because I missed writing them in all their functional, matching-baggage glory. Title from a lovely song by the Weepies.
He'd known her for about a year when she got her master's. It had been one of the better years of his life, certainly the best since Olivia... since, and if he wasn't quite ready to attribute it all to her, neither would he discount her contribution.
So when she told him she was moving, it came as a blow.
"That's wonderful!" he told her, when she told him about the new job, the benefits. "Of course you should go."
It hurt to let her go, but it was the right thing to do.
She'd be happier away from him.
--
He was surprised to get a call from her not much more than a week after she'd moved north. He'd assumed that she would make friends immediately-- she was a wonderful person, after all, and so friendly, if not outgoing-- and forget the melancholy doctor, so many years older than her.
He'd assumed, frankly, that the goodbyes he'd said were permanent.
"I missed talking to you," she said, and laughed, sounding a little nervous. "Is that stupid?"
"Of course not," he told her. He hesitated, then added, "I missed you too."
It was a lie, but only in the tense.
--
"I have to get out of here," he told Joanna over the phone. Just under a year since she'd moved. Just under a month since he'd found Yvonne, found Olivia gone, vanished so completely it seemed she'd never been. "This house is... I see her everywhere, and she isn't coming home."
"You don't know that," Joanna said, quietly, and after a pause added, "But I agree, I think you need to leave."
"The question is where do I move," he said, trying to be light.
"Oh, here, of course," she said, sounding surprised, and a warmth grew under his breastbone.
--
She picked him up from the airport, which surprised him, but should not have. She was his friend, and if he hadn't felt right staying in her apartment, he was at least grateful for a free ride. And this area was beautiful; cooler than he was used to, wilder, rainy, but still recognizably California.
"Yes," Joanna said, when he told her that, on the way to the car. "I love it here. I hope you will too."
He loved it here from the moment he saw her, waiting for him by the baggage carousels. But he couldn't tell her that.
--
Hugh realized that he was in love with Joanna while sitting beside her in his backyard on a bright, clear day, the sun picking out highlights in her hair. He didn't know quite when she'd started leaving off her hijab with him, but he was grateful for it; she had beautiful hair.
She was beautiful all over, actually, in every way. Her smile and her wisdom left him breathless, and it always amazed him, the way she could say exactly the right thing, knew exactly what he needed to hear. She was perfect.
And thirteen years younger than he was.
--
So he hid it. He hid it, and he lied about it to anyone who asked, and most of all he never spoke of it near Joanna, because her smile still sent the bottom dropping out from under his feet, and if she knew...
He didn't know what she'd do, actually, but he couldn't risk it, because she was unquestionably the best thing in his life, and he was thirteen years older than her, and the kindest thing she could do would be to cut him off entirely.
If that happened, he didn't know what he'd do. Besides fall apart.
--
"I need to talk to you," she said, and his stomach sank.
She knew. He didn't know how she'd found out, but he knew she knew. Now... he stared at her face, trying to memorize every curve and line, because heaven knew he'd need it.
"Talk away," he said, as lightly as he could. She frowned-- she knew him too well, she wasn't fooled.
"There's something I need to say," she said, slowly. "I need you to just... listen."
He nodded, mute. Here it came...
Joanna took a deep breath. "I love you," she said, and suddenly he couldn't breathe.
--
She wore white.
It was a little silly, because she wasn't anything like a virgin anymore, and there was no one there besides her sister Deborah and his friend Isaac. And then it was a little perfect, like everything she did, her veil like lace over her hair as they stood hand-in-hand.
Beautiful, and so wise, and quiet and calm, the second most perfect thing he'd ever known, the second most perfect moment in his life, topped only by the first time he'd held Olivia.
He bent to kiss her, not caring what the others said; he wasn't listening anyway.
Main Story: In the Heart
Flavors, Toppings, Extras: Cookies 'n' cream 27 (push), rainbow sherbet 9 (white), malt (PFAH: Joanna : i'm not listening when you say 'goodbye'), rainbow sprinkles (Hugh and Joanna), pocky chain.
Word Count: 800
Rating: PG.
Summary: He tried, oh, he tried to let her go, but somehow he could never quite manage it.
Notes: And now, some fluff for Hugh and Joanna. Because I missed writing them in all their functional, matching-baggage glory. Title from a lovely song by the Weepies.
He'd known her for about a year when she got her master's. It had been one of the better years of his life, certainly the best since Olivia... since, and if he wasn't quite ready to attribute it all to her, neither would he discount her contribution.
So when she told him she was moving, it came as a blow.
"That's wonderful!" he told her, when she told him about the new job, the benefits. "Of course you should go."
It hurt to let her go, but it was the right thing to do.
She'd be happier away from him.
--
He was surprised to get a call from her not much more than a week after she'd moved north. He'd assumed that she would make friends immediately-- she was a wonderful person, after all, and so friendly, if not outgoing-- and forget the melancholy doctor, so many years older than her.
He'd assumed, frankly, that the goodbyes he'd said were permanent.
"I missed talking to you," she said, and laughed, sounding a little nervous. "Is that stupid?"
"Of course not," he told her. He hesitated, then added, "I missed you too."
It was a lie, but only in the tense.
--
"I have to get out of here," he told Joanna over the phone. Just under a year since she'd moved. Just under a month since he'd found Yvonne, found Olivia gone, vanished so completely it seemed she'd never been. "This house is... I see her everywhere, and she isn't coming home."
"You don't know that," Joanna said, quietly, and after a pause added, "But I agree, I think you need to leave."
"The question is where do I move," he said, trying to be light.
"Oh, here, of course," she said, sounding surprised, and a warmth grew under his breastbone.
--
She picked him up from the airport, which surprised him, but should not have. She was his friend, and if he hadn't felt right staying in her apartment, he was at least grateful for a free ride. And this area was beautiful; cooler than he was used to, wilder, rainy, but still recognizably California.
"Yes," Joanna said, when he told her that, on the way to the car. "I love it here. I hope you will too."
He loved it here from the moment he saw her, waiting for him by the baggage carousels. But he couldn't tell her that.
--
Hugh realized that he was in love with Joanna while sitting beside her in his backyard on a bright, clear day, the sun picking out highlights in her hair. He didn't know quite when she'd started leaving off her hijab with him, but he was grateful for it; she had beautiful hair.
She was beautiful all over, actually, in every way. Her smile and her wisdom left him breathless, and it always amazed him, the way she could say exactly the right thing, knew exactly what he needed to hear. She was perfect.
And thirteen years younger than he was.
--
So he hid it. He hid it, and he lied about it to anyone who asked, and most of all he never spoke of it near Joanna, because her smile still sent the bottom dropping out from under his feet, and if she knew...
He didn't know what she'd do, actually, but he couldn't risk it, because she was unquestionably the best thing in his life, and he was thirteen years older than her, and the kindest thing she could do would be to cut him off entirely.
If that happened, he didn't know what he'd do. Besides fall apart.
--
"I need to talk to you," she said, and his stomach sank.
She knew. He didn't know how she'd found out, but he knew she knew. Now... he stared at her face, trying to memorize every curve and line, because heaven knew he'd need it.
"Talk away," he said, as lightly as he could. She frowned-- she knew him too well, she wasn't fooled.
"There's something I need to say," she said, slowly. "I need you to just... listen."
He nodded, mute. Here it came...
Joanna took a deep breath. "I love you," she said, and suddenly he couldn't breathe.
--
She wore white.
It was a little silly, because she wasn't anything like a virgin anymore, and there was no one there besides her sister Deborah and his friend Isaac. And then it was a little perfect, like everything she did, her veil like lace over her hair as they stood hand-in-hand.
Beautiful, and so wise, and quiet and calm, the second most perfect thing he'd ever known, the second most perfect moment in his life, topped only by the first time he'd held Olivia.
He bent to kiss her, not caring what the others said; he wasn't listening anyway.