A/N. Many of you on Portkey may have missed the last chapter - Harry's Epiphany - when I uploaded it last Friday. If you did it's obviously better to read that first before this one. I'll spare you the details of how that happened but I've been writing like crazy so here's the next one.
Have fun.
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Chapter 30 - Complicated
Hermione's beating heart finally eased up. It was both irritating and exhilarating not having much control of herself around Harry. She thought it criminal that any person would have such a profound physical and mental effect on someone else but was thankful that for her it was him. The entire night had been one fleshly indulgence after another. How he was responding to her made her experience lovemaking intensely in a way she had never before and that last trip to heaven...well...she wasn't completely back from that one yet.
"We should really slow down," she thought out loud, more telling herself than him.
"Why?"
"We're setting the bar too high. Anything else will pale in comparison compared to tonight," she glibly reasoned in half jest.
"Twisted as that sounds you do have a point there," he replied, "Tell me how to slow down and I'll try."
His words hung heavily in the air, enticing her to study them more closely. He said it with such familiarity that gave her a déjà vu feeling, like they had talked about this before. It was kind of how she would have imagined couples talking when they had been lovers for a long time. He took her hand, brushed the back of it lightly against his lips and intertwined his fingers with hers. Many times tonight she had seen and felt this tender longing affection in his eyes. It was so easy to believe there was a lot more there than what he had admitted to but she knew better than to put much stock in the delusion, thinking that even if it was true it would have been based on this one night of physical closeness. That was hardly the basis of a long lasting relationship and she preferred something other than that.
That was the real reason why she wanted them to slow down. The other something, if it were to happen, had to happen over time. But going back to their current problem she had no answers for how to slow things down either.
"So what's your other condition?" Harry asked her curiously.
He was referring to the terms of their dating she had hastily formed earlier. Thinking about it during brief intermissions of clarity that night she had come to the conclusion that what she was about to ask of him made the most sense but convincing him could be a problem. She had been thinking about how to tell him without hurting his feelings and hadn't really come up with a good way. She pried herself away from his warm embrace and Summoned their clothes that were strewn about the forest floor close by. She handed him his.
"We should get dressed."
"This looks bad," he commented as they did as she suggested.
"It's not bad. It's just something we need to agree about before we continue and being naked and seeing you naked is kind of a major distraction," she said too honestly.
They sat in front of the fire on the dead tree trunk he had pointed out to her earlier. She could tell the suspense was killing him.
"What is it?"
She took a moment to gather herself then just blurted it out.
"I prefer that we don't tell anyone, at least not yet."
She met his piercing gaze and immediately wished he would just say what it was that he was holding back from her. Masking his true emotions was one thing that Harry had significantly improved on since Hogwarts, a skill necessary when being around Dark wizards and criminals.. It was now second nature to him. He was much easier to read when he hung his emotions on his sleeve.
"Seriously?"
After the fun they had with the last one she couldn't blame him for not being sure if she was kidding.
"Yes, seriously."
"Why not?" he asked.
"Mostly because I'm not prepared to hurt Ginny, not for something we're not sure will last."
In truth it was not only Ginny that she was concerned about but Ron too. Harry doubted that it would matter to Ron and Ginny that much but to her it would and it seemed like an awful waste of friendships if things didn't work out. Then there was also the Ministry and her parents; well, her Dad.
As she expected, he disagreed, "Ginny has moved on. She's dating someone else. In fact, I think she's sleeping with him."
At the back of her mind her evil, miserable twin immediately pounced on the opening to rain on the parade.
Maybe all this was his way to get back at Ginny. What better way to hurt her than sleeping with her gullible, stupid, double-crossing best friend?
"Good then, that makes it alright because you're even," she retorted, looking away and biting back the tears in reaction to the stinging in her chest, hoping he wouldn't see her expression.
He gently guided her chin to face him and calmly said to her, "That's not what I meant."
His concern immediately quashed whatever doubts she had about his intentions. Harry wouldn't do that to her or Ginny. He wasn't that kind of person. That was such a moronic thought. She could only nod as she tried to shake it off.
He added, hoping to make things better, "I'm just saying that since she's doing that it would be hypocritical of her to have a problem with me sleeping with other women."
"She may not have a problem with you sleeping with other women and maybe not even with you sleeping with me but she'll definitely have a problem with me sleeping with you."
He seemed to understand that this wasn't about him.
"So you'd feel the same if your best friend shacked up with an ex boyfriend?"
To explain the conditions and exclusions that would cause her to feel or not feel that way was complicated and would take too much time. She opted to keep it simple.
"If you were my ex and I was Ginny, most definitely. I'll hex the bitch, gouge her eyes out, remove a kidney..."
"Ginny would never do that to you."
"Because she knows it would be idiotic to even attempt to - I'd be able to defend myself."
"Seriously now."
Hermione expounded, "I feel like a traitor, like I just stabbed her in the back."
"You shouldn't."
She wasn't convinced, "I'm supposed to be her best friend. I should feel guilty. The hardest part is accepting that I'm worse than horrible, that I'm prepared to keep on choosing to betray her instead of...well...denying myself...this."
"You're getting this all wrong!"
"I may be but that doesn't change what I feel."
He let out a deep sigh, his furrowed brows forming into one. He didn't agree but he didn't need to. It was enough if he understood and it seemed like he did.
"How can I help?" he asked, taking her hand into his.
She told him the first thing that came to mind.
"Do you think you can stay away from me until Ginny falls in love with someone else, gets married, and lives happily ever after?"
"As long as you have no objections to me using suggestive potions to expedite the process," he jibed making her smile weakly, "It's not everyday that I would wish for my ex-girlfriend to be happily married to someone else but 'ever after' seems such a long time. Are you sure you're not worrying over nothing? Maybe she'll be happy for us. Maybe if we talk to her, she'll actually be fine with this."
As much as she wanted that to be true it was just unimaginable.
"I appreciate your trying to help but this is between me and her. If there's any talking to be done it should just be by me. You should stay out of it."
"I think we should tell her," he argued, "We owe her not to find out from someone else. And we owe ourselves. I'm not going to hide how I feel about you."
"I hope you're not asking me to chose between the two of you," she was being honest.
"Of course not," he replied with the same sincerity.
"Good, because I wouldn't know what to do. I'm not prepared to lose her friendship."
Or you.
"I'm trying to help you keep it. She'll never forgive us for keeping something like this from her. Well, she'll forgive me but she won't forgive you."
"Thanks, but I'll take my chances."
"That if this doesn't work out you won't have to tell her and she won't have to find out? She will eventually find out," he pointed out and then reminded her, "And doesn't thinking that this might not work go against keeping an open mind?"
"No, it doesn't. I've agreed. I am keeping an open mind," she said to him, "And I promise I will talk to Ginny if…when we're both sure about this. I'm still trying to figure this out. I need time. I think we both do."
"Why do you make things so complicated?"
It was a rhetoric question. He broke eye contact and looked at a spot within the dying embers of their fire. He was pondering it. She wished she could hear what he was thinking at the moment. It felt like she was waiting forever, this whole wonderful thing of being with him dependent on his acceptance of her condition. After some time, he reached a decision.
"Okay. We'll wait," she smiled. He tugged her hand towards him and they hugged. As they embraced he whispered in her ear, "Take as much time as you need."
"Thanks," she replied, relieved and felt him give her a kiss on her hair. It struck her how something that used to feel brotherly meant differently now, "And we still have to figure out what to do with the Ministry anyway."
He pulled away and frowned, "What does the Ministry have to do with this?"
"You're a supervisor. I report to you," she pointed out; it was something which he obviously didn't think about, "There are explicit rules in the Ministry Human Resources Policy Book that we can't be doing things like this."
"I don't care," he said brashly.
She hated it when he got this way but she would let him have his fit.
"Well, you're Harry Potter. They can't do anything to you."
He didn't get her chastising tone on that one.
"They wouldn't dare touch you either."
"Probably not. It would be humiliating, though, having to live up to the fact that we're above rules when fifteen couples to date have been transferred and fired because of them."
"Really?"
She wasn't making this up but at least Harry was over his little temper tantrum. She had thought about it and had a simple solution.
"I could resign, move to a different Department…"
"Whoa! Wait a second," he protested, "You're not resigning because of me."
"It's not a big deal and I'm not resigning because of you. I've been waffling about staying anyway."
"We need to talk about this some more. I'm sorry. I should have realized this was going to be a problem," Harry lamented, blaming himself unnecessarily.
"Don't be sorry. I'm not. It's just an unfortunate complication."
He was really concerned about how it would affect work more than he was about how Ginny would take the news so much so that Hermione was having regrets about even mentioning the Ministry. He made her promise she wouldn't do anything rash, like hand in her resignation. She wanted to argue the point but what mattered to her at the moment was that he agreed. They weren't going to tell anyone until both of them decided that what they felt for each other was for real.
The rest of the week passed like a blur. She didn't remember much else except for the times they spent together. It was so hard to concentrate at work. Neither of them deserved their keep and while she couldn't wait for Dean to get back from Australia so she could at least be more productive, she also didn't want to spend less time with Harry.
He did wine and dine her, choosing Muggle places to decrease the risk of 'getting caught' and thankfully did not press her about telling Ginny anymore. The few times he brought up the subject of the Ministry they didn't get too far and it seemed he was content with status quo for now.
Things were happening so fast. She was spinning and by Sunday night, in their room at Grimmauld, they lay on their bed holding each other and talked about how things were going to change because Dean was back that Monday morning.
"I'm actually starting to enjoy keeping you a secret," he said to her.
"You are?" she was surprised.
"It reminds me of our sneaking around Hogwarts and bending stupid rules," he explained. "The longer before we get busted, the more invincible I feel."
He chuckled as she turned crimson red.
"I am not making out with you in the Ministry broom closet again!" she emphatically declared.
"Admit it," he teased, "it was kind of fun."
It was in a juvenile kind of way but she was so not going to encourage him.
"We almost got caught!"
"That's the fun part," he dismissed, kissing her lips tenderly, melting her inside, "And these thoughts I have of you and me in the conference room need to be addressed. You could do a reprise of your demonstration about different firearms and how best to use them. I'm happy to assist."
He was impossible. But no matter how mad or angry she tried to be he knew her better than she did. He knew she couldn't stay mad at him and knew exactly how to diffuse situations whenever she got upset.
For his part he had been more patient with her. She had not seen him lose his temper and had not started an argument with her once since they began going out and she knew it was because they were in their 'honeymoon stage'. They were both willing to compromise to prevent friction, maybe more him than her. She tried not to think so much about that. It wouldn't always be this perfect. Never in her life had she enjoyed something without thinking about how to make it better or how to keep it going until now. As far as Harry was concerned she was living her life one day at a time.
By one month they had settled into a pattern. They worked, went out and met with friends as friends and spent the rest of the time with each other as lovers. Grimmauld became theirs both in name and in actuality. She convinced him to push through with the original plan of selling the place to her and being part owners until she could pay the entire amount. He resisted the idea at first because he was spending more time there than at his own apartment. She compromised that if or when things worked out they could revisit the arrangement. He understood how important it was for her to keep as many things the way they were as if they weren't seeing each other. He understood her need for independence.
Unimaginable as it was the love she had for him blossomed even more. It was the way he looked at her, how she saw herself through his eyes everyday that made her happy and content. And seeing his contentment and happiness made her feel more her feel more of the same. It was like no matter how crazy she got with some of her ideas and no matter how differently they saw things he would still care about her the same way. He supported her and gave her suggestions without impinging on her individuality, without getting hurt if she didn't take his advice. The fact that her innate tendency for intellectual independence was one of the factors that caused her last relationship to fail this was a big deal. Harry treated her as an equal like he always had and took care of her the way she wanted to be cared for.
As her lover she had nothing else to wish for. He was even more perfect than what he had been in her dreams. Her fantasy had become a reality in such a big way.
She was so happy that Dean noticed the change. It was a slow patch for Dark Wizardry again. She and Dean were still working on the Jollyweather case and had just discovered a similar one involving a different artefact collector but the same assistant Dodgey up north.
"So, who's the bloke?" Dean asked from the passenger seat as she drove their Ministry issue auto.
"What?"
"You heard me the first time. I've never seen you this distracted since after the first time you split up with Ron."
"You're imagining things," she dismissed.
"No, I'm not. The question is why are you keeping him a secret."
She ignored him.
"Ashamed of him?"
She didn't answer.
"That ugly, huh?"
He was trying to provoke her to correct him.
"Oh dear God! You're not shagging that guy from communications, are you?!"
That did it.
"Miles? No, of course not!"
"So, who is it?"
"It's none of your business."
"Anyone I know?"
"Why do you want to know?"
"Because I want to get him in a room with Seamus and Harry, interrogate him, and beat the crap out of him if he isn't serious about you."
"That's a sweet thought but just leave him alone. I'm happy. He makes me happy, okay?"
Dean said something about it not being over and begrudgingly answered her questions about his and Luna's wedding plans, his decision to join the IMP and moving to Australia in two months. She was going to lose a partner and a friend. She was going to miss him.
Later that week Harry mentioned that Dean asked him about him. They had just made love and were in the tub having a bath, one of their favourite things to do together. The combination of him kissing her, her kissing him and their bare skin touching and gliding smoothly over each other; well, there were some fantasies that were worth living out over and over again.
Hermione was leaning against his chest, their legs up against each other, his arms wrapped around her, when he spoke, "Dean asked me who I thought your boyfriend was."
"Really? What did you say?"
"I told him 'Miles'," he said then laughed.
"That's not funny!"
It was actually and she was laughing too.
"So, he suggested that we should invite Miles for a drink."
"Oh, no!"
"Don't worry. I told Dean we should back off and that you'd share your boyfriend with us when you were good and ready."
"Thank you for speaking my mind."
"My pleasure," he said, kissing her hair. "Thank you for telling him to lay off your boyfriend. Is it true what you said about me?"
"Which one?"
"That I make you happy?" he peered down her face, awaiting her response.
She turned slightly and craned her neck back, returning his gaze as she replied, "Happier than I've ever been before. But you should know that by now."
He had a most satisfied smile.
"It's nice to hear you say it once in a while," he said.
Her turn.
"And me? Do I make you happy?"
He answered, "Happier than happy. But you should know that by now."
"It's nice to hear it come from you once in a while."
He kissed her tenderly, so familiar to her now but still causing a million fluttering butterflies in her. That led to one thing and then another. They made love again right then and there.
Things like that always set them off. She had a few choice triggers, like joining the other in the shower, him getting in late and waking her up with slow kisses, and that one time he was away on assignment for a four nights. Hmm, they didn't make it out of the foyer.
Over the weeks she finally got him to be more disciplined about where and when to show affection. They stopped doing it at the Ministry and he agreed only if it was temporary (until he or she got a private office). But there was plenty of undisciplined activity by both parties to keep them pre-occupied. His spontaneity was infectious and they both shared an impulsivity problem near each other. Yes, she quickly found out that putting lovemaking on her timetable was just setting herself up to fail and that all of a sudden flexibility was her preferred word.
Seconds turned into minutes, minutes into hours, hours into days, days into weeks. By the time she really looked at the calendar and recognized dates again it was mid-March. They had domesticated, they weren't as volatile and there was some semblance of order. Lost were the conversations about when to let their friends and family know and about what to do with work. Once, her Mum called to report that her Dad was much better but was stubbornly refusing to see his doctor. Harry suggested them visiting her parents in Perth. She agreed in principle but was prepared to delay that as long as she could.
One early morning in bed, as he cuddled her from behind, she had a nagging thought. It was almost time for him to leave, go back to his apartment and get ready for work. This was one of her least favourite parts about being with him; this and when either of them had to work nights and they would be alone in bed. She found it difficult to sleep without his embrace now.
"Harry?" she whispered, wondering if he was still asleep.
"Uh-huh?"
He wasn't.
"I was just thinking..."
"Yeah?"
"You practically live here. Seems like a waste of time waking up early to go home, get changed, you know? And I worry about you getting enough sleep."
"Are you asking me to move in with you?"
"Yes, but only if you want to. I won't feel bad if you don't."
She would but that was not for him to know.
"I want to move in with you."
"Good. That's settled then."
This thing with him was out of control. They hadn't really slowed down. As time went on it seemed more reasonable to just go ahead and let their friends know. But he hadn't brought the matter up again and she didn't want to. Asking him to move in with her had been difficult enough and even though he said he wanted to she would have preferred if the idea came from him. She found that the only way she could be certain he wanted to be with her was if the ideas came from him. And she wanted him to be certain, not only for her but also for himself.
So he moved in and they lived together. He wasn't neat and tidy, couldn't keep up with how she preferred the cupboard and fridge contents organized and kept leaving stuff around. She knew that about him even before he moved in but it did bring some strain, which she thought was a good thing. Their relationship needed tests like this.
He tried to follow the rules at first but really seemed to have trouble with the concept of keeping like coloured vegetables and fruits together, and condiments and salad dressings in one place, even if it saved seconds finding them in the ice box. And in talking about it they had reached an amicable compromise. He'd make better effort to not leave stuff around if she could let him stock the fridge and cupboards however he chose to. Considering that the kitchen was his territory that seemed reasonable.
He improved...somewhat. To his credit she could see him make an effort. She realized she couldn't change him and found that she could tolerate his inadequacies more than she could anybody else's. That wasn't such a surprise. What was more surprising was how the changes he made in her life didn't bother her as much as she thought they would. She didn't begrudge the extra two seconds it took for her to find yoghurt and she was even beginning to like finding the occasional used shirt he had forgotten to put away. It was all part of being with him, of living with him, of him being a part of her life and of her being a part of his.
In late April Ginny finally got her first professional start with the Holyhead Harpies. She invited the Hogwarts gang to watch the game and all of them came to cheer her on; all except Harry. He declined, saying he had to work. Hermione checked and he was indeed working. Of course she and Dean were scheduled to work too but were able to find others to fill in for them. To her knowledge Harry didn't even attempt to switch with anyone or ask John for a few hours off. John would have approved.
Not that they avoided talking about Ginny; they did when her name came up, which rarely did. She just got really hesitant when it came to asking him questions about his ex girlfriend. Ginny told her almost everything about them and had details that she now wished she didn't know about. Her hesitation stemmed from not wanting his perspective of it, much like she didn't want to ask him why he wasn't going to watch Ginny play her first big game.
Hermione suspected he was doing it for her. If she asked him he might tell her then she'd have to tell him not to be ridiculous and lie that she was fine with him going to Ginny's game. Then she'd have to sit beside him and watch him watch Ginny fly. That would have been painful.
So she didn't ask. Ginny scored a hundred and fifty points that night, including the shot that got them past the other team who caught the Snitch a split second later for an almost tie. Hermione would have died from insecurity had he been there to witness that.
She was a horrible friend.
Feeling guilty she couldn't say 'no' when Ginny asked her and Jessie to stay. Hermione liked Jessie. Jessie was a fully entrenched member of the 'Hogwarts gang' now. Like Ginny, Hermione found her easy going and they got along well. It was good that Jessie was around for she filled the night with stories about her and Seamus, how she couldn't figure their friend out, how she couldn't decide whether he was serious about her and that she needed to know because she was falling in love with him.. She interviewed them about Seamus' past and they were more than willing to share the good and bad. Of all their friends Seamus had the most colourful history and had been involved with the wrong sort. Dean and Harry got him out in time. Jessie, like the scientist that she was, interrogated them until there was no stone left unturned to know what it was she was getting herself into. Both Ginny and her were honest; Seamus was a great guy but he didn't have a good track record when it came to women.
As usual, alcohol was Jessie's downfall; kind of ironic for someone falling for a bartender-pub owner. She was out in a couple of hours. At least they were in Ginny's flat. They put her on the couch and Hermione found herself alone with her secret boyfriend's ex-girlfriend, who happened to be her best friend. To say that the situation was complicated was an understatement.
"You've been so quiet tonight," Ginny called her on it, "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, just tired," she replied.
"You do look like you haven't been sleeping well," her friend pointed out the obvious.
Hermione took a swig of her second butterbeer as she answered in her mind, I've been sleeping great, just not enough.
"Great game."
"Thanks," Ginny broke into a bittersweet smile, then a tear slid down a cheek, then on the other, then two, then Hermione lost count.
She put her arm around Ginny's shoulders and let her friend cry on hers, making her feel worse about everything. Ginny sobbed and Hermione knew what it was about.
"Hush now," she tried to console Ginny; she had tears in her eyes too.
Then came Ginny's gut wrenching admission, "It feels empty without him here. I wished he would turn up, that he changed his mind and would watch me play even for ten seconds. But he didn't..."
"Sshh..." Hermione hushed her again as she continued to cry.
"Why didn't he come?" Ginny asked her.
"He...um...had to work. I'm sure if he didn't have work he would have been here cheering."
"I miss him so much. How is he?"
"He seems fine," she replied.
"Is he seeing someone seriously?"
"I'm not sure," she lied; living with someone was, she just realized, quite serious.
"He is, isn't he?" Ginny wasn't stupid, "it's okay, you don't have to hide it from me. I'm fine with that. Well, I'm not but you know what I mean."
For a split second Hermione was tempted to tell her the truth.
But don't you have to ask Harry first?
You know he wants to tell her.
That was in the beginning. What if he changed his mind?
No, he hasn't and you know it. Stop being a fucking coward and tell her the truth!
Ginny pulled away and the opportunity was lost, including whatever tiny amount of courage she had.
"Is he happy?"
Why did she have to ask questions with answers she knew would hurt?
"I think so."
"Good," Ginny said bravely, "What's wrong with me? We just won a game. I should be happy too. I need another drink."
Hermione needed another one too. They talked some more, mostly about their other friends, about the Ministry and then about Ginny's last boyfriend, who she broke up with because she kept seeing Harry's face on him whenever they had sex.. That was way too much information for it got her thinking about bad things.
Ginny wondered her fears out loud, "Do you think Harry has the same problem?"
She didn't remember what she said. Hermione was an emotional mess when she got back to London the following morning. It was early and Harry was still in bed.
"I missed you," he said the second he woke up after she joined him, drawing her closer and into his arms.
He brushed his lips against hers and nipped at it. She kissed him back but the pesky thought Ginny planted in her mind made her wonder if he was really kissing her or Ginny..
"Did you have fun?" he asked when she pulled her mouth away.
"Ginny won the game for the team."
"I heard. She's a good Chaser. The Harpies chose well," he said matter-of-factly, then repeated, "Did you have fun?"
"It was a fun game."
He frowned, recognizing that something was amiss.
"What's wrong?"
"I want you to be brutally honest with me."
"I always am. What's eating you up?"
She gritted her teeth and asked candidly, "Do you see Ginny's face when we have sex?"
His lips pursed together and he gazed deeply into her eyes, "No, I do not see Ginny's face when we make love. I see you, your brown hair, you hazel nut eyes, your soft red lips. I see the friend I grew up with, a very attractive woman, driving me crazy with desire, like right now."
He paused and waited for her response. Drowning in the sea of warm affection in his eyes she could only think of one. She threw herself all over him, found his mouth with hers and kissed him passionately until they were both breathless. They made love and he swiftly melted her insecurities away.
After, minutes later, as they kissed each other languidly, he mentioned something about the first night they were together.
"A goddess!?" she exclaimed in disbelief and panic, "I looked like a goddess!?"
He was chuckling. Her reactions sometimes amused him and most times, like now, she was fine with it.
"Tell me you're lying about that," she said sternly.
"It's meant to be a compliment," he defended his revelation.
"I don't want it. Take it back."
"You can't refuse a compliment," he pointed out.
"I believe I just did. I don't need compliments like that. It sets me up to fail in the future. It's like people calling me brilliant all the time. I'm not brilliant all the time. Don't call me goddess anymore because I'll eventually believe it and then I'll feel bad if you don't see me like a goddess anymore, which is very possible, considering I will get old and..."
"Hermione," he interrupted, which was a good thing because she was running out of rambling material, "I get it. You don't want to be seen as a goddess. I can't help what I think but I won't say it out loud anymore."
He was still amused, his eyes showing the laughter he was holding back. She loved him. She loved him so badly. Ginny's agony, while still festering in the back of her mind, faded in comparison to it. She leaned closer and let him wrap his arms around her as they kissed, deep, lingering, full of meaning.
"Goddess," he whispered against her mouth, a grin on his lips.
"Stop it..."
"Sex goddess…"
She laughed, helpless as he continued to mouth the word, teasing her. Her phone was ringing in the background. She reached over Harry and grabbed it, motioning him not to speak. Her breasts were hanging 'invitingly' over his mouth and with mischief in his eyes he began licking her right nipple and gently sucking her breast. As much as she would have wanted him to continue it was best if he didn't.
"Harry, wait a second. It's my Mum."
He groaned a complaint but behaved himself.
"Mum?"
A sudden panic washed over her. Her Mum was crying and trying to talk in between sobs. Hermione couldn't make out what she was saying.
"Mum, what's wrong?!...Mum....Mum, talk slowly."
"It's Dad...come quick. He's calling for you."
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A/N. I hope you like their relationship as I've portrayed it. I decided on just snippets of it - for brevity - so we can move on. There's still so much to write.