All I Want is You - Part 25
Title: All I Want is You - Part 25
Author: xjekkix
Word Count: 951 words
Summary: What’s meant to be will be.
Rating: G
Disclaimer: This is not real.
A/N: Beta’d by csifreak90
Lindsay is terrified. It’s not that she doesn’t trust Charlotte. It’s that she doesn’t trust her parents to make a scene. But what other choice does she have?
She looks warily at Charlotte. She can practically see the gears turning feverously in the woman’s head as she works out the logistics. “I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into, Char,” Lindsay says.
Charlotte smiles, reaches across the table and takes hold of Lindsay’s hand. She wants to reassure her. Lindsay is shocked; it’s been years since the Ronsons even spoke to her, let alone showed her affection. It makes her feel a little warm and fuzzy inside. “Trust me. I’ve dealt with my share of family catastrophes. Just think about what you want to say to them and I’ll handle the rest.”
Breakfast comes to a close. Charlotte and Ann help clean off the table; Lindsay and Samantha insist on doing the dishes. It is Samantha’s house, after all, and it will give them some one on one time to discuss Charlotte’s mischievousness.
“I’m sorry she’s meddling. I’ll talk to her,” Samantha says while filling up the sink with sudsy water. She has a dishwasher - it came with the house - but she was brought up to wash dishes more efficiently by hand.
Lindsay leans up against the counter, spinning a dish-drying towel in circles in front of her. She looks contemplative. “Well, do you have a better idea?”
Samantha scrunches up her face. Shaking her head, she tests the water. Too hot.
“I think it could work. Honestly.”
Samantha shrugs. She’s unsure. “It’s a little drastic, isn’t it?”
Lindsay gives Samantha a look, one that says, “you’re kidding, right?”
“Couldn’t we just sit them both down for tea and tell them? Or write them a nice letter?” the woman says, scraping for better ideas.
“You’ve met my parents. We could never get them into the same room willingly without faking someone’s death - or it ending in someone’s death,” Lindsay begins. Samantha rolls her eyes; she knows this is true. “And if we sent them letters, God knows how long it would take them to read it. My parents get as much fan mail - or hate mail - as I do, as strange as that is.”
Samantha nods and starts to wash the dishes. She slides on a pair of yellow latex gloves to protect her soft, delicate fingers from the dirty water. Lindsay giggles.
“It’s going to be fine, Samantha,” Lindsay says taking a deep breath. She’s struggling to convince herself just as much. “We’ll show up, mingle. I’ll make a speech. My parents will have a fit. We leave. And in no time, my mother will be the centre of attention again.” As she says this, Lindsay plays it out in her head. If all goes according to her plan, this will be a breeze. But she knows both of her parents have a flair for the dramatic; having a fit is probably an understatement.
Charlotte and Ann saunter into the kitchen, their bags packed and jackets on. “We’re headed back to London for a few days. Charlotte says she thinks better there,” Ann says, leaning in to kiss Samantha on the cheek.
“We’ll call you with the details,” Charlotte adds, her arms full of design books and a notepad where she’s already begun jotting phone numbers. Lindsay notices her father Michael’s number on the very top. A shiver runs down her spine. Charlotte hugs Lindsay gently before hugging her sister and Ann blows Lindsay a polite kiss as they head outside to wait for a taxi.
Samantha breathes a sigh of relief as the door closes behind them. She slides off her gloves and sets them beneath the counter. Lindsay busies herself drying the dishes, an innocent smile on her face. For the first time in a long time, she feels part of a family again. She can’t help but feel giddy over this.
“So we’re really gonna do this, huh?” Samantha asks, sneaking up behind Lindsay. She wraps her arms around the girl’s waist and rests her chin on Lindsay’s shoulder.
“Hmm?” Lindsay asks, clearly preoccupied with her own thoughts.
“Get hitched and have a baby?” Samantha kisses Lindsay gently behind the ear and nuzzles in. The girl continues drying dishes but closes her eyes.
She nods. “You ready for a family?” Lindsay asks, turning her head slightly to look Samantha in the eye.
“I’ve been ready, babe. Things just had to fall apart for us to piece them back together. You’re like my missing puzzle piece.”
Lindsay grins and blushes. “Consider yourself complete then.”
Samantha grabs the damp drying towel from Lindsay’s hands and drops it on the kitchen counter. She turns the girl around, both hands held tightly to her hips. “When’s this engagement party? I guess I should find something nice to wear.” She teases Lindsay with her lips; nearly kisses her, pulls away. Kisses her once, pulls away.
Anxious, Lindsay grabs Samantha by the cheeks and plants a hard kiss on her. “Next Friday. You’ve got lots of time.”
“You gonna help me pick it out?”
Lindsay nods and leans her head against Samantha’s collarbone. “What did you have in mind?” the girl asks.
“Haven’t the foggiest. I thought I’d leave that up to you.”
Lindsay looks up at Samantha just in time to catch the woman winking. “Oh?”
Samantha nods and grins cunningly. “I know how you get when we play dress-up. “
The girl blushes and grins back. “Fitting room at Dior?”
Samantha reaches behind Lindsay to a hook on the kitchen counter. She grabs her car keys and jingles them behind the girl’s head. “I’ll race you to the car.”
Author: xjekkix
Word Count: 951 words
Summary: What’s meant to be will be.
Rating: G
Disclaimer: This is not real.
A/N: Beta’d by csifreak90
Lindsay is terrified. It’s not that she doesn’t trust Charlotte. It’s that she doesn’t trust her parents to make a scene. But what other choice does she have?
She looks warily at Charlotte. She can practically see the gears turning feverously in the woman’s head as she works out the logistics. “I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into, Char,” Lindsay says.
Charlotte smiles, reaches across the table and takes hold of Lindsay’s hand. She wants to reassure her. Lindsay is shocked; it’s been years since the Ronsons even spoke to her, let alone showed her affection. It makes her feel a little warm and fuzzy inside. “Trust me. I’ve dealt with my share of family catastrophes. Just think about what you want to say to them and I’ll handle the rest.”
Breakfast comes to a close. Charlotte and Ann help clean off the table; Lindsay and Samantha insist on doing the dishes. It is Samantha’s house, after all, and it will give them some one on one time to discuss Charlotte’s mischievousness.
“I’m sorry she’s meddling. I’ll talk to her,” Samantha says while filling up the sink with sudsy water. She has a dishwasher - it came with the house - but she was brought up to wash dishes more efficiently by hand.
Lindsay leans up against the counter, spinning a dish-drying towel in circles in front of her. She looks contemplative. “Well, do you have a better idea?”
Samantha scrunches up her face. Shaking her head, she tests the water. Too hot.
“I think it could work. Honestly.”
Samantha shrugs. She’s unsure. “It’s a little drastic, isn’t it?”
Lindsay gives Samantha a look, one that says, “you’re kidding, right?”
“Couldn’t we just sit them both down for tea and tell them? Or write them a nice letter?” the woman says, scraping for better ideas.
“You’ve met my parents. We could never get them into the same room willingly without faking someone’s death - or it ending in someone’s death,” Lindsay begins. Samantha rolls her eyes; she knows this is true. “And if we sent them letters, God knows how long it would take them to read it. My parents get as much fan mail - or hate mail - as I do, as strange as that is.”
Samantha nods and starts to wash the dishes. She slides on a pair of yellow latex gloves to protect her soft, delicate fingers from the dirty water. Lindsay giggles.
“It’s going to be fine, Samantha,” Lindsay says taking a deep breath. She’s struggling to convince herself just as much. “We’ll show up, mingle. I’ll make a speech. My parents will have a fit. We leave. And in no time, my mother will be the centre of attention again.” As she says this, Lindsay plays it out in her head. If all goes according to her plan, this will be a breeze. But she knows both of her parents have a flair for the dramatic; having a fit is probably an understatement.
Charlotte and Ann saunter into the kitchen, their bags packed and jackets on. “We’re headed back to London for a few days. Charlotte says she thinks better there,” Ann says, leaning in to kiss Samantha on the cheek.
“We’ll call you with the details,” Charlotte adds, her arms full of design books and a notepad where she’s already begun jotting phone numbers. Lindsay notices her father Michael’s number on the very top. A shiver runs down her spine. Charlotte hugs Lindsay gently before hugging her sister and Ann blows Lindsay a polite kiss as they head outside to wait for a taxi.
Samantha breathes a sigh of relief as the door closes behind them. She slides off her gloves and sets them beneath the counter. Lindsay busies herself drying the dishes, an innocent smile on her face. For the first time in a long time, she feels part of a family again. She can’t help but feel giddy over this.
“So we’re really gonna do this, huh?” Samantha asks, sneaking up behind Lindsay. She wraps her arms around the girl’s waist and rests her chin on Lindsay’s shoulder.
“Hmm?” Lindsay asks, clearly preoccupied with her own thoughts.
“Get hitched and have a baby?” Samantha kisses Lindsay gently behind the ear and nuzzles in. The girl continues drying dishes but closes her eyes.
She nods. “You ready for a family?” Lindsay asks, turning her head slightly to look Samantha in the eye.
“I’ve been ready, babe. Things just had to fall apart for us to piece them back together. You’re like my missing puzzle piece.”
Lindsay grins and blushes. “Consider yourself complete then.”
Samantha grabs the damp drying towel from Lindsay’s hands and drops it on the kitchen counter. She turns the girl around, both hands held tightly to her hips. “When’s this engagement party? I guess I should find something nice to wear.” She teases Lindsay with her lips; nearly kisses her, pulls away. Kisses her once, pulls away.
Anxious, Lindsay grabs Samantha by the cheeks and plants a hard kiss on her. “Next Friday. You’ve got lots of time.”
“You gonna help me pick it out?”
Lindsay nods and leans her head against Samantha’s collarbone. “What did you have in mind?” the girl asks.
“Haven’t the foggiest. I thought I’d leave that up to you.”
Lindsay looks up at Samantha just in time to catch the woman winking. “Oh?”
Samantha nods and grins cunningly. “I know how you get when we play dress-up. “
The girl blushes and grins back. “Fitting room at Dior?”
Samantha reaches behind Lindsay to a hook on the kitchen counter. She grabs her car keys and jingles them behind the girl’s head. “I’ll race you to the car.”