All I Want is You - Part 16
Title: All I Want is You - Part 16
Author: xjekkix
Word Count: 1297 words
Summary: What’s meant to be will be.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: This is not real.
A/N: Beta’d by csifreak90
“It’s Mark’s birthday, not mine,” Samantha says, blushing.
Lindsay pulls her aside to the hotel lobby and flattens the palm of her free hand, facing up. A ring.
Samantha’s heart rate shoots through the roof. Here? Now? What if her family sneaks up and catches Lindsay proposing? There would certainly be a blow up of insane proportions.
“It’s not what you think. Honest. Just read the inscription.”
Samantha sighs, relieved, and sets a hand over the left side of her chest as her heart begins to beat slower.
She spins the heavy piece of silver in her left hand; on the outside it reads: For you, I will wait. On the inside: As long as it takes.
Carefully she slides it onto the appropriate finger - the one that claims her heart - and takes Lindsay by the hand. No more waiting.
As soon as they walk in the room, seemingly on cue, Samantha’s mother and siblings all look in their direction. Both of them smile and think to themselves: it’s because she’s stunning.
Lindsay squeezes Samantha’s hand tighter. She sees the disapproving looks from the woman’s family. Inside, she wants to turn around and run back to her car, forget this whole fiasco. But she’s promised her heart now and Samantha needs her.
Samantha gently pulls her hand away from Lindsay’s as they approach her family. The girl maintains a strong grip around Samantha’s ring finger - complete with the inscripted ring.
The woman leans upward to hug her brother, Mark. He reluctantly hugs her back and kisses her cheek, all the while watching Lindsay cautiously.
“Happy birthday, Mark,” Lindsay says quietly, reaching into her purse to retrieve a small gift box. The man takes it apprehensively and hands it off to his mother.
Mark looks to Samantha questioningly. “I see you took my advice and brought a guest.”
Lindsay’s knees shake. She feels intimidated by the Ronsons, Dexter-Jones’s and Jones’s at the best of times but now especially.
Charlotte, Annabelle, Alexander, Henrietta, David, Joshua, Roman, Chris, Mick, Ann, Samantha’s step-mother and father Laurence all stand before them, arms crossed and stern scowls on their faces.
Lindsay knew she wasn’t welcome - she never expected to be greeted with open arms - but she was hoping she wouldn’t be faced with such passionate dislike.
“Well, she is my guest and I hope you can all respect that.” The way Samantha says this is filled with such confidence that it seems to take her entire family down a notch or two. Lindsay smiles apologetically to each of them.
A waiter approaches and takes their drink order - ice water for both. Samantha sips at hers while talking to her half brothers. Lindsay stays close by, not saying a word.
She can feel Charlotte watching her; it makes her wish she were invisible.
“Nice dress,” Samantha’s twin says, her expression neutral - not offended or angry; this is a good start.
Lindsay looks down at the stunning number and her matching shoes. She is, quite literally, wearing C.Ronson from head-to-toe. She hopes this comes across as flattering and not like she’s trying to suck up.
“Thank you. I love the design. Definitely my favourite from the summer collection.” She twists her legs and bends her ankle to show off the shoes also.
Charlotte smiles and continues the conversation, telling Lindsay about the inspiration for her summer line - her twin sister. They chat with ease while Samantha looks on from the corner of her eye.
After some time, the Ronson clan disperses to visit with their respective guests. Mark sits on a makeshift throne by the DJ booth with his girlfriend-du-jour, Charlotte introduces Lindsay to an up-and-coming designer, and Ann remains next to Samantha, her arms still crossed.
“That was awfully gutsy of you - bringing her here on your brother’s birthday,” Ann says, gesturing to a nearby waiter for service.
Samantha lowers her head and places a hand on the back of her neck, feeling increasingly uncomfortable. “I know. I’m sorry.”
Ann shrugs with a smile. “Not me who you should be apologizing to, darling. But I am proud of you for standing up for yourself - and her.” Ann says “her” with disdain. Samantha cringes. She knows her mother is only being instinctively protective but she also knows Lindsay deserves more respect.
“This was my idea. Lindsay didn’t want to come,” Samantha protests. “I didn’t know how else, or when I would ever get a chance to have you all in the same room again.” She stresses the girl’s name, hoping to remind her mother that Lindsay is a person and need not go nameless.
Ann nods, grinning. “We are pretty hard to track down all at once, aren’t we? But no matter what, we always stick together.” The woman’s drink arrives - a double gin and tonic. Samantha watches her mother sip at the drink and simply nods.
“Are you happy?” Ann asks flatly.
Samantha nods again, this time vehemently. As she does this, she folds her hand into a fist and plays with the ring on her finger absentmindedly.
“She inspired the skirt?”
“A little,” Samantha says, smiling. “She wanted me in a dress but I wasn’t feeling it.” She chuckles, as does her mother.
They stand side-by-side in silence for a while, Ann watching Mark DJ his own party and Samantha watching Lindsay dance with Annabelle.
“So will you give her a second chance?” Samantha asks, glancing in her mother’s direction.
Anne gives her daughter an uncertain looking, taking a long sip from her drink. “If that’s what you want,” she says finally, with a subtle nod.
Samantha lets out a sigh of relief. “More than you know.”
She had expected the night to go relatively well - minimal screaming, only a bit of hair pulling and few claws deployed - but this has surpassed all of her expectations. She begins to wonder if she has underestimated her family and their ability to accept.
But it takes just one look at Lindsay as she blossoms in a crowd of professionals to see the girl is due credit for some of the evening’s ease. She is visibly changed - openly social, completely self-dependent and adaptable to any situation.
Samantha sneaks out for a cigarette, but not before noticing her mother approach Lindsay. They don’t embrace as they once would have but exchange a few kind words. Ann places a strong hand on the girl’s shoulder as they chat, a symbol of her acceptance.
Outside, she finds Mark and several of their mutual friends having a rowdy conversation. Silently, she injects herself into the circle.
“Samantha!” a friend shouts, embracing her tightly. Mark looks when he hears her name. She looks back, a guilty expression on her face.
“I’m sorry,” she tries to yell above the noise of the enthusiastic bunch. Mark shrugs and grabs her by the wrist as he ducks around the side of the building for some quiet.
“You having a good time?” he yells despite the quiet they have found.
Samantha nods, offering her brother a cigarette from the fresh pack found tucked inside of her shirt. “I’m sorry if I stole your thunder tonight.”
He shrugs and says nothing, taking the cigarette and lighting it quickly.
“Seriously, I’ll do whatever you want; I’ll make it up to you.”
Mark laughs and runs fingers through the rock star curls at the front of his hair. “I’m actually not shocked at all. You two are like water and a flame. You shouldn’t go together so well. But you’re not meant to be apart either.”
Samantha smiles, both at the truth to Mark’s statement and his musical reference.
“You’re good for her,” he says, wrapping an arm around his sister’s shoulders as they walk inside. “And vice versa. Couldn’t ask for much more than your happiness.”
Samantha smiles at her brother and tucks her hands deep into her jacket pockets. She wraps her fingers around the small box inside, having almost forgotten about it. "I think you're right. Thanks," she says, squeezing his arm affectionately with her free hand before going back inside to find Lindsay.
Author: xjekkix
Word Count: 1297 words
Summary: What’s meant to be will be.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: This is not real.
A/N: Beta’d by csifreak90
“It’s Mark’s birthday, not mine,” Samantha says, blushing.
Lindsay pulls her aside to the hotel lobby and flattens the palm of her free hand, facing up. A ring.
Samantha’s heart rate shoots through the roof. Here? Now? What if her family sneaks up and catches Lindsay proposing? There would certainly be a blow up of insane proportions.
“It’s not what you think. Honest. Just read the inscription.”
Samantha sighs, relieved, and sets a hand over the left side of her chest as her heart begins to beat slower.
She spins the heavy piece of silver in her left hand; on the outside it reads: For you, I will wait. On the inside: As long as it takes.
Carefully she slides it onto the appropriate finger - the one that claims her heart - and takes Lindsay by the hand. No more waiting.
As soon as they walk in the room, seemingly on cue, Samantha’s mother and siblings all look in their direction. Both of them smile and think to themselves: it’s because she’s stunning.
Lindsay squeezes Samantha’s hand tighter. She sees the disapproving looks from the woman’s family. Inside, she wants to turn around and run back to her car, forget this whole fiasco. But she’s promised her heart now and Samantha needs her.
Samantha gently pulls her hand away from Lindsay’s as they approach her family. The girl maintains a strong grip around Samantha’s ring finger - complete with the inscripted ring.
The woman leans upward to hug her brother, Mark. He reluctantly hugs her back and kisses her cheek, all the while watching Lindsay cautiously.
“Happy birthday, Mark,” Lindsay says quietly, reaching into her purse to retrieve a small gift box. The man takes it apprehensively and hands it off to his mother.
Mark looks to Samantha questioningly. “I see you took my advice and brought a guest.”
Lindsay’s knees shake. She feels intimidated by the Ronsons, Dexter-Jones’s and Jones’s at the best of times but now especially.
Charlotte, Annabelle, Alexander, Henrietta, David, Joshua, Roman, Chris, Mick, Ann, Samantha’s step-mother and father Laurence all stand before them, arms crossed and stern scowls on their faces.
Lindsay knew she wasn’t welcome - she never expected to be greeted with open arms - but she was hoping she wouldn’t be faced with such passionate dislike.
“Well, she is my guest and I hope you can all respect that.” The way Samantha says this is filled with such confidence that it seems to take her entire family down a notch or two. Lindsay smiles apologetically to each of them.
A waiter approaches and takes their drink order - ice water for both. Samantha sips at hers while talking to her half brothers. Lindsay stays close by, not saying a word.
She can feel Charlotte watching her; it makes her wish she were invisible.
“Nice dress,” Samantha’s twin says, her expression neutral - not offended or angry; this is a good start.
Lindsay looks down at the stunning number and her matching shoes. She is, quite literally, wearing C.Ronson from head-to-toe. She hopes this comes across as flattering and not like she’s trying to suck up.
“Thank you. I love the design. Definitely my favourite from the summer collection.” She twists her legs and bends her ankle to show off the shoes also.
Charlotte smiles and continues the conversation, telling Lindsay about the inspiration for her summer line - her twin sister. They chat with ease while Samantha looks on from the corner of her eye.
After some time, the Ronson clan disperses to visit with their respective guests. Mark sits on a makeshift throne by the DJ booth with his girlfriend-du-jour, Charlotte introduces Lindsay to an up-and-coming designer, and Ann remains next to Samantha, her arms still crossed.
“That was awfully gutsy of you - bringing her here on your brother’s birthday,” Ann says, gesturing to a nearby waiter for service.
Samantha lowers her head and places a hand on the back of her neck, feeling increasingly uncomfortable. “I know. I’m sorry.”
Ann shrugs with a smile. “Not me who you should be apologizing to, darling. But I am proud of you for standing up for yourself - and her.” Ann says “her” with disdain. Samantha cringes. She knows her mother is only being instinctively protective but she also knows Lindsay deserves more respect.
“This was my idea. Lindsay didn’t want to come,” Samantha protests. “I didn’t know how else, or when I would ever get a chance to have you all in the same room again.” She stresses the girl’s name, hoping to remind her mother that Lindsay is a person and need not go nameless.
Ann nods, grinning. “We are pretty hard to track down all at once, aren’t we? But no matter what, we always stick together.” The woman’s drink arrives - a double gin and tonic. Samantha watches her mother sip at the drink and simply nods.
“Are you happy?” Ann asks flatly.
Samantha nods again, this time vehemently. As she does this, she folds her hand into a fist and plays with the ring on her finger absentmindedly.
“She inspired the skirt?”
“A little,” Samantha says, smiling. “She wanted me in a dress but I wasn’t feeling it.” She chuckles, as does her mother.
They stand side-by-side in silence for a while, Ann watching Mark DJ his own party and Samantha watching Lindsay dance with Annabelle.
“So will you give her a second chance?” Samantha asks, glancing in her mother’s direction.
Anne gives her daughter an uncertain looking, taking a long sip from her drink. “If that’s what you want,” she says finally, with a subtle nod.
Samantha lets out a sigh of relief. “More than you know.”
She had expected the night to go relatively well - minimal screaming, only a bit of hair pulling and few claws deployed - but this has surpassed all of her expectations. She begins to wonder if she has underestimated her family and their ability to accept.
But it takes just one look at Lindsay as she blossoms in a crowd of professionals to see the girl is due credit for some of the evening’s ease. She is visibly changed - openly social, completely self-dependent and adaptable to any situation.
Samantha sneaks out for a cigarette, but not before noticing her mother approach Lindsay. They don’t embrace as they once would have but exchange a few kind words. Ann places a strong hand on the girl’s shoulder as they chat, a symbol of her acceptance.
Outside, she finds Mark and several of their mutual friends having a rowdy conversation. Silently, she injects herself into the circle.
“Samantha!” a friend shouts, embracing her tightly. Mark looks when he hears her name. She looks back, a guilty expression on her face.
“I’m sorry,” she tries to yell above the noise of the enthusiastic bunch. Mark shrugs and grabs her by the wrist as he ducks around the side of the building for some quiet.
“You having a good time?” he yells despite the quiet they have found.
Samantha nods, offering her brother a cigarette from the fresh pack found tucked inside of her shirt. “I’m sorry if I stole your thunder tonight.”
He shrugs and says nothing, taking the cigarette and lighting it quickly.
“Seriously, I’ll do whatever you want; I’ll make it up to you.”
Mark laughs and runs fingers through the rock star curls at the front of his hair. “I’m actually not shocked at all. You two are like water and a flame. You shouldn’t go together so well. But you’re not meant to be apart either.”
Samantha smiles, both at the truth to Mark’s statement and his musical reference.
“You’re good for her,” he says, wrapping an arm around his sister’s shoulders as they walk inside. “And vice versa. Couldn’t ask for much more than your happiness.”
Samantha smiles at her brother and tucks her hands deep into her jacket pockets. She wraps her fingers around the small box inside, having almost forgotten about it. "I think you're right. Thanks," she says, squeezing his arm affectionately with her free hand before going back inside to find Lindsay.