A Marriage Of Convenience : for thespiansparkle
Title: A Marriage Of Convenience
Pairings: Desmond/Penny, Daniel/Charlotte … Desmond/Daniel
Rating : PG-13 for sexual references
Summary: Marriage requires sacrifice. Especially when it comes to the constant …
Warning : So crack-filled it should be outlawed.
For
thespiansparkle , who asked for Desmond/Penny and weddings. Though I’m fairly certain this isn’t even remotely resembling what she had in mind.
Warm afternoon sunlight filtered into the parlor where Charlotte and Penny sat chatting.
“How’s your tea? Hot enough?”
“Perfect.” Penny smiled, blowing on her cup before taking a sip.
“That milk hasn’t gone over, has it? It was Daniel’s turn to go to the store. I sent him for milk and bread; he came back four hours later with something resembling the phasers from Star Trek. I didn’t dare send him back out … well, you know how that goes.”
Penny laughed. “I know all too well. Only with Des it’s boating paraphernalia. And the milk’s fine. ”
Something fell over with a crash upstairs. Charlotte glanced up briefly then sighed and held out a plate to Penny. “Macaroon? I’m trying my hand at baking. They’re a bit brown on the bottom, but none of us have died yet.”
“They look lovely.” She took a bite. “Mmmm. It’s wonderful. Remind me to give you my recipe for …” Desmond’s voice suddenly rang through the house, bellowing something so indecipherably Scottish even Penny couldn’t translate. She waited him out patiently then continued, “ … strudel. It calls for cherries but it’s even better with cheese.”
Charlotte adored this house, but the walls were paper thin. She really needed to get Dan to do something about that before next year’s festivities. “Your girls are getting so big, Pen. How have they been?”
“Brilliant. And you’re not kidding about big - I can’t keep Caroline in shoes, she outgrows them faster than I can buy them! How about your two? How are they?”
“Positively frightening. You may have noticed I no longer have a gardening shed. Graham decided to discover a new chemical reaction last month.”
“He’s only seven!”, Penny exclaimed.
“I know,” Charlotte replied dryly. “That’s what’s so frightening. And Bridget can already assemble an entire pterodactyl skeleton by herself. ”
A series of ragged whimpers wafted down from above. Charlotte would know that sound anywhere. She fought the urge to chuck the teapot at the ceiling.
“Did Des ever finish restoring his boat? The antique?”
Penny laughed again and shook her head. “God, no. I’m fairly sure he’ll be working on that when he’s ninety. But if he ever does finish, I want all of you to come sailing with us.”
“Bridget and I would adore it. But I’m leaving the boys at home. They’d spend the entire time draped over the railing.”
A rhythmic thumping began upstairs. Tiny flakes of plaster snowed down. Penny fished one out of her teacup without comment and smiled placidly over at Charlotte.
They had been back from the island eight months when Dan’s memory started to go. Charlotte had been absolutely frantic; no matter what she tried, Dan grew worse by the hour, got to the point where he had forgotten even her name. The memory loss had happened to coincide with a visit from Desmond and Penny. Desmond and Daniel had gone off by themselves and had, quite by accident (or so the men steadfastly claimed) discovered the solution to the problem. When they had emerged an hour later, rumpled and sweaty, Dan was back to normal. It was, they said, all about the constant. Keeping up the constant required contact. And the closer the contact the better. Penny used the quaint euphemism ‘The Holiday’ while Charlotte snidely referred to the operation as ‘Daniel’s Booster-Shot’. Either way, what it came down to was a bi-annual ritual in which the women held a proper tea party and pretended nothing was amiss while their husbands shagged like bunnies above their heads.
Charlotte had always equated the event to a necessary - but tedious - household chore, like tilling the garden in April or winterizing the windows.
For the first time it occurred to her to wonder why.
“It’s been almost seven years now,” she murmured thoughtfully.
“It has,” Penny agreed.
“Seven years we’ve sat down here like obedient little wives, sipping our Tetley.”
“That we have. Quite obedient.”
“I’m not feeling particularly obedient today,” Charlotte mused.
“Come to think of it, neither am I.”
“Does Desmond talk about …?” Charlotte gestured vaguely upward.
“Never.”
“Neither does Daniel.” Charlotte paused a moment, then asked slowly, “Do you ever wonder …?”
“All the bloody time,” Penny interrupted, a saucy, decidedly disobedient grin spreading over her face.
Charlotte matched it.
They clanged their cups down at the same instant and dashed for the stairs.
~ end.
Pairings: Desmond/Penny, Daniel/Charlotte … Desmond/Daniel
Rating : PG-13 for sexual references
Summary: Marriage requires sacrifice. Especially when it comes to the constant …
Warning : So crack-filled it should be outlawed.
For
thespiansparkle , who asked for Desmond/Penny and weddings. Though I’m fairly certain this isn’t even remotely resembling what she had in mind.
Warm afternoon sunlight filtered into the parlor where Charlotte and Penny sat chatting.
“How’s your tea? Hot enough?”
“Perfect.” Penny smiled, blowing on her cup before taking a sip.
“That milk hasn’t gone over, has it? It was Daniel’s turn to go to the store. I sent him for milk and bread; he came back four hours later with something resembling the phasers from Star Trek. I didn’t dare send him back out … well, you know how that goes.”
Penny laughed. “I know all too well. Only with Des it’s boating paraphernalia. And the milk’s fine. ”
Something fell over with a crash upstairs. Charlotte glanced up briefly then sighed and held out a plate to Penny. “Macaroon? I’m trying my hand at baking. They’re a bit brown on the bottom, but none of us have died yet.”
“They look lovely.” She took a bite. “Mmmm. It’s wonderful. Remind me to give you my recipe for …” Desmond’s voice suddenly rang through the house, bellowing something so indecipherably Scottish even Penny couldn’t translate. She waited him out patiently then continued, “ … strudel. It calls for cherries but it’s even better with cheese.”
Charlotte adored this house, but the walls were paper thin. She really needed to get Dan to do something about that before next year’s festivities. “Your girls are getting so big, Pen. How have they been?”
“Brilliant. And you’re not kidding about big - I can’t keep Caroline in shoes, she outgrows them faster than I can buy them! How about your two? How are they?”
“Positively frightening. You may have noticed I no longer have a gardening shed. Graham decided to discover a new chemical reaction last month.”
“He’s only seven!”, Penny exclaimed.
“I know,” Charlotte replied dryly. “That’s what’s so frightening. And Bridget can already assemble an entire pterodactyl skeleton by herself. ”
A series of ragged whimpers wafted down from above. Charlotte would know that sound anywhere. She fought the urge to chuck the teapot at the ceiling.
“Did Des ever finish restoring his boat? The antique?”
Penny laughed again and shook her head. “God, no. I’m fairly sure he’ll be working on that when he’s ninety. But if he ever does finish, I want all of you to come sailing with us.”
“Bridget and I would adore it. But I’m leaving the boys at home. They’d spend the entire time draped over the railing.”
A rhythmic thumping began upstairs. Tiny flakes of plaster snowed down. Penny fished one out of her teacup without comment and smiled placidly over at Charlotte.
They had been back from the island eight months when Dan’s memory started to go. Charlotte had been absolutely frantic; no matter what she tried, Dan grew worse by the hour, got to the point where he had forgotten even her name. The memory loss had happened to coincide with a visit from Desmond and Penny. Desmond and Daniel had gone off by themselves and had, quite by accident (or so the men steadfastly claimed) discovered the solution to the problem. When they had emerged an hour later, rumpled and sweaty, Dan was back to normal. It was, they said, all about the constant. Keeping up the constant required contact. And the closer the contact the better. Penny used the quaint euphemism ‘The Holiday’ while Charlotte snidely referred to the operation as ‘Daniel’s Booster-Shot’. Either way, what it came down to was a bi-annual ritual in which the women held a proper tea party and pretended nothing was amiss while their husbands shagged like bunnies above their heads.
Charlotte had always equated the event to a necessary - but tedious - household chore, like tilling the garden in April or winterizing the windows.
For the first time it occurred to her to wonder why.
“It’s been almost seven years now,” she murmured thoughtfully.
“It has,” Penny agreed.
“Seven years we’ve sat down here like obedient little wives, sipping our Tetley.”
“That we have. Quite obedient.”
“I’m not feeling particularly obedient today,” Charlotte mused.
“Come to think of it, neither am I.”
“Does Desmond talk about …?” Charlotte gestured vaguely upward.
“Never.”
“Neither does Daniel.” Charlotte paused a moment, then asked slowly, “Do you ever wonder …?”
“All the bloody time,” Penny interrupted, a saucy, decidedly disobedient grin spreading over her face.
Charlotte matched it.
They clanged their cups down at the same instant and dashed for the stairs.
~ end.