[Fic] Paris
Dec. 27th, 2010 11:39 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kittydesadeTitle: Paris
Source: Eve and Dawn
Genre: Mainstream/Romance
Characters: Grace, Rob
Word Count: ?
Summary: Rob takes Grace on a surprise trip to Paris.
A/N: written for![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
origfic_bingo prompt "Romantic Holiday"
The paperwork wasn't going to shuffle itself, but sometimes Grace wished it would. There were reports to type up and, in addition to the usual litany of who had done what to whom and how many rounds were expended, Sam also wanted her impression of things. The kinds of details he demanded, the profiles he wanted from her and half a dozen other employees were exhausting.
Christine said he'd always been that way. It made Grace wonder why she'd ever thought working for Bryce Securities was a good idea.
"Ready to go?"
On the other hand, if she'd never come to work for Bryce Securities she never would have met Rob. Who now stood at the front of her desk, one hand extended and pale blue eyes brightened in one of those smiles that made her his entire world. And she much preferred her life with him in it.
She reached out and took his hand. "I think I'm ready. The paperwork can take care of itself when I get back."
The paperwork would be done on the plane, in truth, while they were flying out to wherever it was. All he'd told her was to pack and dress for air travel. The destination was a mystery. And because she did sometimes like a good mystery, she did not look more closely at his financials, his mode of dress, the subjects he'd brought up since then, or anything else that would tell her where he planned on taking them.
"You called the..."
"I called the babysitter for Joy, she'll check in on her. We're all set, if you're all packed."
"I'm packed," she wrinkled her nose at him, grinning. "We just have to swing by the apartment and pick up my bag. I hope..." No, she wouldn't asked if she'd packed the right clothes. That would spoil the surprise.
She did admit to being impressed; he managed to distract her attention every time she glanced around to catch sight of an arrivals/departures board. No clue where they were going, except they were in an international airport. He did know she always carried her (well, a) passport with her.
And, sure enough, she needed it. They presented passports, he presented the ticket. She looked over at him. "Charles deGaulle?"
"Paris," he shrugged, grinned wryly. "You were going to find out anyway, but... I wanted it to be a surprise as long as possible."
They found their seats before they could resume the conversation. She turned after she'd fastened her seat belt and looked at him, scanning his face. He was looking forward except when he turned to her, catching her look. There was a tightness around his eyes that spoke to nervousness, but his hands were calm. Now that she knew the bulk of the surprise, she thought, there was one more surprise in store. But one that wouldn't be revealed until later.
"You okay with this?" he asked all of a sudden, as she was drifting off, even. Head tucked on his shoulder, ignoring the silent flickering brightness of the in-flight movie. "Going off to..."
It wasn't, actually, the first time she'd been told to grab her passport and ID and pack a bag. Actually by now she had a go-bag all packed, just in case Sam needed her somewhere urgently yesterday. Not that she mentioned that now, he didn't entirely approve of what Sam did even though her boss was careful to keep it all legal and above-board. Or deniable.
"I'm fine, Rob. I promise."
The difference between Sam telling her to get to Paris in 24 hours and being absconded with by her boyfriend was clear. This was a holiday. This was a vacation, where she was obligated to nothing and no one, where she could relax and let her guard down and have fun and not keep all her senses on high alert. Where she didn't have to be on all the time and didn't have to look for the meaning under the meaning and examine every word choice as though it mattered.
She could relax with him. She could just be with him.
She could fall asleep on the plane, too, instead of writing up her reports like she'd meant to.
After a couple of days she figured he'd get to it. Whatever the 'it' was. The one comfort was that it probably wasn't a break up. Guys didn't fly their girlfriends all the way out to Paris to break up with them.
They'd gotten a lemon ice treat at one of the stands. Stood at the Place du Trocadero and watched the lights come on, and now they were slowly walking down the dirt path towards the Tour Eiffel. Talking about nothing in particular, arm in arm, still taking spoonfuls of the lemon ice she was holding, that was now dripping through its cardboard cup. Eventually she pitched it into the nearest bin.
"You like it out here, don't you?" The question came somewhat out of the blue, except that they'd been silent for a little while and her head turned this way and that, taking in the view. The sounds.
Grace nodded slowly. She did like it here. She liked the sound of the French language, she loved French cuisine. She liked old cities and old buildings and the way the whole place lit up at night. This place, at least. She was under no illusions that it would be like this if she lived here, or that it was the only place that beauty was to be found, but. "Yeah. I do."
"Good. I hoped you would. I mean, I had to pull a lot of strings to get us out here on pretty short notice, but, I don't know. I was kind of afraid you'd turn be down, or work would come up, so I had to work fast."
"Work fast?"
He didn't look at her yet. He looked at the ground, sheepish and awkward. She'd never seen him awkward before; it was kind of cute. "Yeah. I mean..." Up at the sky and back down again. "Okay, I was going to wait till we actually got up to the tower for this but I can't... I can't make conversation any longer, not like ..."
This wasn't happening. This didn't happen like this, she was old enough to know that things didn't happen like this. People didn't get down on their knees in the middle of a Paris pathway and hold out diamond rings and propose and oh my god is he...
"Grace... I love you. I don't know any other way to say it. I'm not good at this, I'm not eloquent, so I'm just... Will you marry me?"
The world swam before her eyes. Words sounded like they were coming at her from underwater and language made no sense for a second or three. She couldn't speak, and her fingers surely trembled as she reached out to touch his fingers curled tightly over the dark blue velvet box. This wasn't happening. She hadn't even imagined this was what he'd been planning.
"That a yes?" He smiled, but the tension was back in his eyes.
She nodded. She couldn't think, couldn't do much else but say yes. She hadn't been prepared for this. But she knew the last couple of years, god, he had been a patch of sanity in her increasingly crazy life. She was so tired of thinking and over-thinking everything, and he made her feel giddy and happy. It was a good thing, it had to be. She could rest around him. She could take it easy.
And he was nice. He was sweet, he was a cop, and he was a good guy. She knew he was one of the good guys.
So she nodded. Between the two of them, somehow they managed not to drop the ring, although the box clunked to the ground in a puff of dirt. It slipped onto her finger and stayed, light and glinting under the moon.
She pulled him to his feet around the same time as he swept her in his arms and kissed her until the box, the ring, even the question, everything went away on a surge of gleeful wonder.
Source: Eve and Dawn
Genre: Mainstream/Romance
Characters: Grace, Rob
Word Count: ?
Summary: Rob takes Grace on a surprise trip to Paris.
A/N: written for
origfic_bingo prompt "Romantic Holiday"The paperwork wasn't going to shuffle itself, but sometimes Grace wished it would. There were reports to type up and, in addition to the usual litany of who had done what to whom and how many rounds were expended, Sam also wanted her impression of things. The kinds of details he demanded, the profiles he wanted from her and half a dozen other employees were exhausting.
Christine said he'd always been that way. It made Grace wonder why she'd ever thought working for Bryce Securities was a good idea.
"Ready to go?"
On the other hand, if she'd never come to work for Bryce Securities she never would have met Rob. Who now stood at the front of her desk, one hand extended and pale blue eyes brightened in one of those smiles that made her his entire world. And she much preferred her life with him in it.
She reached out and took his hand. "I think I'm ready. The paperwork can take care of itself when I get back."
The paperwork would be done on the plane, in truth, while they were flying out to wherever it was. All he'd told her was to pack and dress for air travel. The destination was a mystery. And because she did sometimes like a good mystery, she did not look more closely at his financials, his mode of dress, the subjects he'd brought up since then, or anything else that would tell her where he planned on taking them.
"You called the..."
"I called the babysitter for Joy, she'll check in on her. We're all set, if you're all packed."
"I'm packed," she wrinkled her nose at him, grinning. "We just have to swing by the apartment and pick up my bag. I hope..." No, she wouldn't asked if she'd packed the right clothes. That would spoil the surprise.
She did admit to being impressed; he managed to distract her attention every time she glanced around to catch sight of an arrivals/departures board. No clue where they were going, except they were in an international airport. He did know she always carried her (well, a) passport with her.
And, sure enough, she needed it. They presented passports, he presented the ticket. She looked over at him. "Charles deGaulle?"
"Paris," he shrugged, grinned wryly. "You were going to find out anyway, but... I wanted it to be a surprise as long as possible."
They found their seats before they could resume the conversation. She turned after she'd fastened her seat belt and looked at him, scanning his face. He was looking forward except when he turned to her, catching her look. There was a tightness around his eyes that spoke to nervousness, but his hands were calm. Now that she knew the bulk of the surprise, she thought, there was one more surprise in store. But one that wouldn't be revealed until later.
"You okay with this?" he asked all of a sudden, as she was drifting off, even. Head tucked on his shoulder, ignoring the silent flickering brightness of the in-flight movie. "Going off to..."
It wasn't, actually, the first time she'd been told to grab her passport and ID and pack a bag. Actually by now she had a go-bag all packed, just in case Sam needed her somewhere urgently yesterday. Not that she mentioned that now, he didn't entirely approve of what Sam did even though her boss was careful to keep it all legal and above-board. Or deniable.
"I'm fine, Rob. I promise."
The difference between Sam telling her to get to Paris in 24 hours and being absconded with by her boyfriend was clear. This was a holiday. This was a vacation, where she was obligated to nothing and no one, where she could relax and let her guard down and have fun and not keep all her senses on high alert. Where she didn't have to be on all the time and didn't have to look for the meaning under the meaning and examine every word choice as though it mattered.
She could relax with him. She could just be with him.
She could fall asleep on the plane, too, instead of writing up her reports like she'd meant to.
After a couple of days she figured he'd get to it. Whatever the 'it' was. The one comfort was that it probably wasn't a break up. Guys didn't fly their girlfriends all the way out to Paris to break up with them.
They'd gotten a lemon ice treat at one of the stands. Stood at the Place du Trocadero and watched the lights come on, and now they were slowly walking down the dirt path towards the Tour Eiffel. Talking about nothing in particular, arm in arm, still taking spoonfuls of the lemon ice she was holding, that was now dripping through its cardboard cup. Eventually she pitched it into the nearest bin.
"You like it out here, don't you?" The question came somewhat out of the blue, except that they'd been silent for a little while and her head turned this way and that, taking in the view. The sounds.
Grace nodded slowly. She did like it here. She liked the sound of the French language, she loved French cuisine. She liked old cities and old buildings and the way the whole place lit up at night. This place, at least. She was under no illusions that it would be like this if she lived here, or that it was the only place that beauty was to be found, but. "Yeah. I do."
"Good. I hoped you would. I mean, I had to pull a lot of strings to get us out here on pretty short notice, but, I don't know. I was kind of afraid you'd turn be down, or work would come up, so I had to work fast."
"Work fast?"
He didn't look at her yet. He looked at the ground, sheepish and awkward. She'd never seen him awkward before; it was kind of cute. "Yeah. I mean..." Up at the sky and back down again. "Okay, I was going to wait till we actually got up to the tower for this but I can't... I can't make conversation any longer, not like ..."
This wasn't happening. This didn't happen like this, she was old enough to know that things didn't happen like this. People didn't get down on their knees in the middle of a Paris pathway and hold out diamond rings and propose and oh my god is he...
"Grace... I love you. I don't know any other way to say it. I'm not good at this, I'm not eloquent, so I'm just... Will you marry me?"
The world swam before her eyes. Words sounded like they were coming at her from underwater and language made no sense for a second or three. She couldn't speak, and her fingers surely trembled as she reached out to touch his fingers curled tightly over the dark blue velvet box. This wasn't happening. She hadn't even imagined this was what he'd been planning.
"That a yes?" He smiled, but the tension was back in his eyes.
She nodded. She couldn't think, couldn't do much else but say yes. She hadn't been prepared for this. But she knew the last couple of years, god, he had been a patch of sanity in her increasingly crazy life. She was so tired of thinking and over-thinking everything, and he made her feel giddy and happy. It was a good thing, it had to be. She could rest around him. She could take it easy.
And he was nice. He was sweet, he was a cop, and he was a good guy. She knew he was one of the good guys.
So she nodded. Between the two of them, somehow they managed not to drop the ring, although the box clunked to the ground in a puff of dirt. It slipped onto her finger and stayed, light and glinting under the moon.
She pulled him to his feet around the same time as he swept her in his arms and kissed her until the box, the ring, even the question, everything went away on a surge of gleeful wonder.