Beginning, Previous Section, Section VII
Jump to new as of November 25, 2002
Jump to new as of December 6, 2002
Editor's Note: This story contains more swearing than most stories here on the Guild.
Fries came back, expecting Storm to have gone to Wild Iris. He had worked some more on 'The Last Storm'. Maybe it would even be good enough for publishing if he finished it. He was in a better mood after the hours he spent practicing. He was looking forward to playing concerts and competitions again. He made a mental note to himself to speak to his agent and see what was planned for the coming months. There was still the question of where he was going to be based.
He opened the door and walked in, slinging his satchel of music onto the coat rack beside the entrance. Then he saw a foot coming from behind the sofa. "Storm?" he called out, slowly walking around the sofa. The foot was attached to a body, lying on the floor, out cold, or dead. Fries was so shocked he couldn't do anything for a full minute. He saw the vodka bottle on the table, and fell to his knees beside her.
"God, please tell me this is not true," he pleaded. "Storm! Storm," he called out, slapping her face gently. He felt for her pulse, which was still beating faintly.
"What should I do?" he asked no one. "What should I do?" He was beginning to panic. He put his hands over his face and took a deep breath to try and calm himself. He would call 999. He found the phone and with a trembling hand dialed the emergency number.
"My friend is passed out on the floor. I don't know if she's okay. She's- she's never drunk alcohol in her life and she's just drunk half a bottle of vodka. ...I don't know. 386 Hartfield Road, W2 SJ19. It's a basement flat. ...Ok ... Ok."
He hung up and then dashed to the kitchen to wet a flannel. He knelt beside her and wiped her face, talking to her all the time.
"Why? Why have you done this? Why won't you tell me what's wrong? Why would you do this? Why did I leave you alone? Please, Storm, wake up. Tell me you poured most of that bottle down the drain."
Fries couldn't stop the tears from forming in his eyes, and slowly sliding down his cheeks. He didn't even rub them off his face. He just let them drip onto her shoulder.
He leaned down and kissed her forehead. "Storm, why do you torment me?" he whispered. "I love you so much, yet I wish I didn't. It hurts too much."
He heard sirens outside, and dashed to the door, going outside and waving the ambulance to the door. He stood aside as the medics rushed into the flat with a stretcher. Fries followed fearfully behind them.
He grabbed her wallet in case they needed identification.
Storm's inert body was lifted onto the stretcher and carried outside to the ambulance. Fries grabbed his satchel and keys, locking the door behind him. He hopped into the back of the ambulance after they made sure he had a right to be there. During the horribly interminable drive to the casualty, he held her hand tightly and looked out of the window, willing the ambulance to maneuver faster through heavy London traffic.
They finally reached the hospital, and Storm was bundled out. Fries went in to fill out any paperwork. In a daze he watched Storm being whisked away. A man at the reception desk kindly asked him to sit down and wait. Fries didn't know how he could possibly wait for any length of time. What if she... what if she... doesn't make it? he asked himself. He couldn't and wouldn't think of that possibility. He buried his face in his hands, leaning his elbows on his knees, and just prayed that she would be okay. He didn't know if he should call West, Taylor, or Anastasia. If- when she made it and was out of hospital, would she want it known what she had done? He decided to wait until there was more news. If it seemed like she would be okay, he would let her decide if she wanted to tell her friends. If ... the other scenario, he would call.
Unable to sit and do nothing, he pulled out 'The Last Storm', and began to compose a new movement. It was in his head, he didn't even need a piano. He scribbled frantically, erasing every so often. The melody was heartbreaking, agonising. Cellos poignantly telling a tale of woe. Somehow, the music just flowed from his mind to his fingers and onto the page. So... this was what composing was supposed to be like. Almost effortless, a growing entity on its own.
He had almost finished the movement when he heard his name was being called. He looked up. The man at the desk looked annoyed like he had been calling his name several times. He probably also felt foolish for calling out a name like Fries Bennet.
"Yes?"
"The doctor would like to see you."
Fries slowly put his work into his satchel, and tossed it onto his shoulder. He walked up to the door and then walked through to meet the doctor.
"Hi, I'm Doctor Perry," she said.
"Hi. My name is Fries Bennet," he numbly managed to reply.
"Are you two related?"
"Not really. We were adopted by the same people when we were in our teens."
"I see."
"Is she..." Fries choked.
"She's going to be okay."
Fries let out all of his breath, and bent his head into his hands, running his fingers into his thick hair.
When he was calm enough to talk again, the doctor asked, "You found her, did you?"
"Yes. I came home to find her... on the floor. Her mother was an alcoholic and drug addict, so she's never... had alcohol before." His voice was wavering. "I knew something was upsetting her, but I never...."
"I understand. We've pumped her stomach out, so she will be uncomfortable for a while, but she's okay. Since she hasn't been accustomed to alcohol, the heavy doses affected her worse than it normally does."
"But she'll be okay."
Dr. Perry smiled, "Yes."
"Can I... see her?"
She nodded, and Fries followed her down the corridors to a small, bare, clean room. Dr. Perry left him alone, and Fries walked up to the still figure in the bed. She had never looked so thin before. Her face looked ghastly pale and gaunt. He pulled up the chair to the side of the bed, and took her hand that lay over the covers.
"Storm?" he called softly. No reply.
Fries kissed her hand several times, then bowed his head to thank God that she was okay.
He must have fallen asleep there for he woke upon feeling fingers combing through his hair. He looked up to see Storm, conscious and looking at him.
He smiled tentatively. "Hi."
"Hi."
He wanted to ask her what had possessed her to do such a thing, but held his questions for later.
"Can I go home?" she asked.
"You want to leave now?"
She nodded.
"I'll see what I can do."
Fries went off to find Dr. Perry, who returned with Fries to check on Storm. Once she was satisfied that Storm was okay to leave hospital, she signed the release forms, and gave Storm several stern warnings.
Fries couldn't hold himself back any longer, and pulled Storm into a tight hug. "Why?" he whispered. "Why did you do this?"
She laughed a little. "I didn't mean to. I was just trying to get drunk."
"Why?"
"Because." She pulled away and started walking to the exit. They hailed a cab and went home.
The first thing Fries did when he walked in was to tip the rest of the vodka out into the sink and to toss the bottle into the rubbish bin. Storm lay down on the couch. Fries sat at her feet and said, "We need to talk about this."
"No, we don't."
"I didn't tell anyone else, but I can."
"You won't."
"Why?"
"Because I've asked you not to."
"But you won't tell me what's wrong."
"No."
"Storm...."
"Fries..." she imitated.
He had no desire to force Storm into confidence. If she didn't want to talk, so be it. He would have to live with that, though it saddened him tremendously.
"Will you at least promise not to do any more harm to yourself? This includes alcohol, drugs, firearms and sharp objects."
She snorted. "I promise."
"I don't even want to leave you alone anymore."
"I always said you're welcome to move in here."
Fries stood up and asked, "Are you hungry?"
"A little."
They had very little food in the house, but Fries didn't want to leave her alone long enough to go to Sainsbury's. He made some tomato soup and opened a packet of crisps. They watched a favourite movie Storm owned while eating in silence. It was a movie that didn't require conscious effort to watch. Neither could claim to be paying attention to it, really.
Storm still couldn't quite comprehend what she had done. She honestly had had no idea that would happen. She still felt a little ill from the effects, but she certainly had a renewed, firm resolve not to touch alcohol again. But there was still a tiny, rebellious, evil part in the back of her mind that said Come on, be honest with yourself. Who would have missed you if you had died? It's a much easier way out of the pain.
Fries' poor, fatigued mind was going round in circles. He felt trapped and wished he could have someone help him cope. He wanted to yell at Storm, to tell Elizabeth, to tell William, to tell someone about it. He wanted her to tell him what was wrong and what had driven her to it. He wanted to torture her until she did tell him. Well... not really, but he was desperate to know. At the same time, he didn't want to push her, didn't want to force confidence, didn't want her to be angry with him in any way. He wanted her to confide in him of her own volition. And so it went round and round as he stared mutely at the television screen. He would wait. He would give it a day, and then ask her gently to tell him. And he would continue asking her every day until she was all right, or she told him. But how would he know she was all right if she didn't tell him what was wrong in the first place? And round and round it went again.
After she had eaten, she announced her intention to shower and go to bed. When she had gone, Fries turned the TV off, and sat in silence, thinking. He badly wanted to call William and tell him that the woman he loved was practically suicidal. He wanted to call his parents and tell them what Storm had done and about the fear in his heart that would not go away, fear of her doing it again or something worse. Elizabeth could tell him what to do. But it would bring too many questions, and he didn't want to jeopardise what he had with Storm at the moment.
Exhausted from the ordeal, Fries cleared the dishes, showered, and pulled out the sofa to climb into bed. He wasn't able to sleep for a while. He kept thinking about the day's events and forming morbid what ifs in his mind. At one point, he got up and poked his head into her room to make sure she was all right. Finally, he fell into a fitful sleep full of nightmares about losing Storm.
The next morning, Storm woke up early. She dressed in warm clothes, then quietly left the house to get to Wild Iris, leaving a note behind explaining where she was. She locked the shop up behind her as it was too early to open yet, and began to do an inspection of the books and the stock to make sure everything was in order. Not that she suspected Anastasia of neglecting Wild Iris, but sometimes between Ana and Stacy, things fell betwixt the cracks.
Around seven, she heard the door lock being opened, and looked up to see Anastasia opening the door. A man was with her, and to Storm's complete shock, Anastasia turned and kissed the man goodbye. Not just a kiss on the cheek or a friendly kiss, but a proper relationship kiss. Stacy walked into Wild Iris and stopped short upon seeing Storm.
"Storm! Hi!" she exclaimed. "How was your trip?"
Storm, still in shock, asked, "Who was that?"
Stacy then remembered that Storm didn't know about Martin. "That's Martin."
"Martin."
"Yes, my boyfriend."
"But what about Fries?" she asked.
"What about Fries?" Stacy countered, confused.
"How...how could you?" sputtered Storm. Then she thought of Fries. Poor, poor Fries. For her to be heartbroken was one thing. But for him to suffer the same fate was something she didn't think she could bear.
"I've forgotten something at home. I'll be back," Storm said. She grabbed her wallet and keys and practically ran out of the store, leaving a worried Stacy behind.
Storm jogged home, hoping he would still be there. She burst through the door to see Fries calmly eating cereal at the table.
He looked up, startled and confused. "Hi."
She paused to catch her breath.
"Is something wrong?" he asked.
She leaned against the kitchen counter to prevent herself from blacking out.
"I thought you'd gone to Wild Iris."
"I did," she said.
"So why are you back?"
"I have something to tell you."
Once she caught her breath and had drunk a glass of water, she sat down across from him. She didn't feel equal to telling him like this.
"Let's take a walk," she said.
"Now? You never want to walk."
"I do now. You coming or not?"
Fries grabbed his overcoat, scarf and gloves and followed her out the door. She set off down Charing Cross road, away from Wild Iris. Fries just walked silently beside her, their long legs matching in stride. He decided to be patient and wait until she wanted to talk. Maybe it was to do with what was bothering her. They walked down Piccadilly Street and Storm turned into Green Park, striding through the bare trees in the park, the ground still crisp with the previous night's frost.
"Did we have a particular destination or are we just walking until you're too tired to talk again?" asked Fries, only half in jest.
Storm stopped abruptly. "I don't know what's the easiest way to tell you this...."
Fear came over Fries. She found out that he loved her and she was telling him she didn't love him.
"Anastasia has a boyfriend. His name is Martin."
Silence.
"And?" prompted Fries, waiting for her to continue.
Storm was studying his face, expecting some reaction, but there was none.
"I know you must feel very hurt, and I can't believe she would treat you so callously, but-"
"Hang on, why am I supposed to feel hurt?"
"But... but..." she became very confused. "But you love her."
Fries shook his head. "I never loved her."
"But I thought... you were always together... and...." Storm was in turmoil. Nothing was what she thought it was. She was so confused, and her face showed it.
"I was the one who brought Martin and Stacy together. I'm sorry we didn't tell you. In hindsight it probably would have made more sense. But Stacy was so afraid of your censure and disapproval. So I became an unwilling partner in the duplicity. I hated lying to you and deceiving you, but Stacy made it sound so important and Ana, too."
"What about Ana?" Storm asked, remembering their conversation.
"She's good friends with Martin and they have a solid friendship together. I think this is good for her. She enjoys being with Martin."
"So he knows."
"He didn't for a while. Ana was emailing him and Stacy was seeing him, but nobody knew the whole situation until Ana and Martin met. Ana recognised him and he saw Stacy, and it was a mess. That's where I stepped in, explained to Martin about Anastasia, and he made the decision to work it out. Stacy and he got back together, Ana got to know Martin and became better friends, and things have been working out so far."
Storm felt a mixture of many emotions. She felt hurt that she had been left out of this. She had always been Anastasia's best friend. But then again, she had been against Stacy's relationships.... Most of all, she wanted to sob with relief that the mess she had thought they were in was untrue. But William had said he was lovesick.
"Then... you are not in love with either of them?"
"No, I'm not in love with them." He said this in such a way that implied he was in love with someone else.
Storm was confused. She didn't know of anyone else....
"How could I when you are around?" he said softly. Fries suddenly felt bold, as if someone had given him a shot of something that took away any fear and uncertainty. He reached out with one hand and caressed her face. She looked at him with wide eyes, afraid she was reading too much into this. "I've loved you all along. Why do you think it is so hard on me when you won't tell me what is making you so upset? I'll die of stress and a broken heart if you ever do something like yesterday again."
Storm couldn't breathe, she couldn't think, she couldn't move. She could only stare at him, his eyes searching her face. Not seeing any response from her, he sighed, kissed her forehead, and then began to walk away.
"Wait," she cried, realising he was going.
He turned, expectant.
She walked up to him and faced him again. "Remember when we were playing poker with Ana? And she asked me what I feared most?"
He nodded.
She looked down at her twisting hands. "I said I feared falling in love most." She laughed pathetically. "I would not change my answer if asked the same question today. I mean, look what I did only yesterday."
It was Fries' turn to be confused. What was she saying?
"I don't know why you would love me, but then again, I have even less explanation of why I would love you, but I do. And this scares me."
Fries had never felt such elation, such happiness... it was like... like playing his favourite piece with the Vienna orchestra, like returning to the piano after a long absence, it was like... composing. But she was still talking.
"I don't know how to be in love, I don't know how it works, I don't know how to act-"
Fries leaned forward, one hand on either side of her face, and kissed her. It was soft, tender and long. When he finally pulled away, she managed to say, "I... I think I could handle that."
He smiled and returned to kiss her again. She slid her arms around his neck as he wrapped his around her body, pulling her closer. He continued to kiss her, releasing all the pent up emotions of the both of them. When they parted again, Storm leaned her forehead against his and whispered, "I love you."
Fries smiled. "Say it again."
Storm returned the smile and repeated, "I love you," and kissed him.
He asked her, "You thought I loved Anastasia?"
She nodded.
"And you were suicidal because of me?"
"Hey, I was not suicidal! I just tried to drown my sorrows."
He hugged her tightly to him and said, "I wish you had told me."
"Why didn't you tell me? William talked to me and tried to convince me to get you to tell whoever it was you loved that you loved her."
"He did that??" exclaimed Fries. "Oh, I'm going to kill him."
"I bet. You couldn't imagine the torture it caused me."
He caressed her face, looking intently in her eyes. "But that's all over, right? No more misunderstandings and confusion."
She nodded, and he kissed her a couple of times.
Hand in hand, they strolled through the park, passing by the grand gates to Buckingham Palace without a glance.
"When did you fall in love with me?" asked Storm.
"During and soon after the Madrigal Dinner. And you?"
"I must have been in the thick of it long before I knew. It was only when I started to suspect an attachment between you and Anastasia that I realised."
"That must have been pretty cruel."
It was still too new for Storm to laugh at it. She grimaced and nodded. He squeezed her hand more tightly.
"Tell me something you have been keeping from me all this time," she said suddenly.
"Like what? Something specific?"
"No, just anything."
"As long as you tell me something."
"I don't have anything."
"Think of something."
"You've been hiding a lot more from me than I from you. The whole Martin thing."
"Not my choice." Fries paused, then smiled serenely, looked at her and said, "I composed a piece about you."
"Excuse me?" she said, astonished.
Fries laughed, expecting the reaction. "While my mind was in torment, my release, if you will, was composing the song that wouldn't go away in my head. You've actually seen it."
"You mean those notes scribbled down on staff paper?"
"Yep."
"Why didn't you let me see it?"
"I'm still not going to let you see it. Well, if you really want to, you can look at my scribbles, but I'm not going to play it for you until I've finished it."
"You haven't finished?"
"It has three movements as of right now, but I think I must complete it with a fourth."
"Four movements??" she exclaimed. "I don't think I like being the inspiration of someone's talent."
"Tough. That's what you get for falling in love with a musician."
"I suppose I can't take it back, can I?"
"Do you want to?" he asked, hesitantly.
She smiled at him a little. "No."
"Good. Now, what's your secret?"
"I love you."
"That's not a secret anymore."
"I don't have another one."
"Fine, then I shall ask you a more difficult question instead."
"And what is that?" she asked cautiously.
He paused to consider his words carefully. "How do you explain... this... us... to your feminist opinions? Does not falling in love with and depending on a man so much you would be driven to do something you never in your right mind would do, go against your feminist principles?"
"F***! That is a hard one."
"Take your time."
She thought about it for a while, then began her response. "Foreknowledge is forewarned and forearmed."
Silence.
"Is that it?"
She nodded.
"That's your answer??"
She nodded again.
"Expound on that, would you?"
"You know my opinions, right? And if you know about them, still love me in spite of that-"
"You never know. It could be because of it."
"Doubtful, but possible." She continued, "So if you know about it and still love me, then obviously you will not trample upon my opinions. I hope I have enough taste to fall in love with a man who will not stifle me, chain me to the kitchen etc."
"You still have not fully answered my question," he pointed out.
"I don't think I can fully answer it. Have not philosophers been trying to understand love for centuries? It is inexplicable. It makes people do things they never would normally. It can turn people into monsters and into extraordinary heroes and heroines. It leads some people to do tremendous feats. Aside from the lesbians, did not many of the great feminists of history have husbands? The feminists that I agree with the most are not men haters. They are rational women who merely want equality, the same rights given to men, and to be valued as a woman. They do not claim to want exactly the same everything as men, since men and women are different. But they want the suspension of mistreatment from the earliest of ages. When girls are put into one box and boys into another. The feminists I value do not just fight for women, but fight for men, too. They want the end of the limitations put on men. Like the expectation of men to be tough and manly and insensitive. You do not fall into that trap. Therefore I have had the good taste to fall in love with a man who, albeit unknowingly, agrees somewhat with what I believe. There, has that answered it?"
"I think so. It was a rather long-winded answer."
"But to a difficult question, as you so mentioned yourself."
Fries smiled, leaned over and kissed her. "I'm impressed."
She smirked and replied, "You should be."
The conversation soon turned to Anastasia. Fries told her more in detail what had been occurring for the last month or so. He kind of felt like Ana and Stacy should be doing this explaining, but he did so enjoy talking to Storm. He kept his tale to what he had been involved in, and told her to ask Stacy and Ana about the rest.
"Actually," she said. "I confronted Ana several days before I joined you at the Bennet Mansion. It was when I returned from Polesdon Lacey in Surrey. We never spoke names, but I assumed we were talking about you, and she must have assumed we were talking about Martin. That was what confirmed my suspicions."
Fries felt more love and pity for her. He kissed her gently and hugged her. "My poor Storm," he said softly.
She laughed a little, berating herself. "I really can f*** things up, can't I?"
"I'd say you have a gift for it."
They were silent for a few minutes, just resting in each other's arms, totally involved with themselves, oblivious to the speed of London spinning around them.
"Do you not think," Storm whispered, "That we are an odd couple?"
"Not really, why?"
"I swear a lot, wear the wrong clothes, I run an unconventional store. You are upright, moral, are always impeccably dressed, have a noble profession which takes you around the world in the company of the most prestigious people, and you never swear."
"I do. ...Once in a blue moon. When the occasion arrives."
"But how could someone like you... be at all interested in someone like me?" she asked, genuinely in confused awe at the idea.
"Like you said, love is inexplicable and unpredictable. However our minds are similar, I believe. We're both liberal in our own way. You always try and act so tough yourself, with clothes and makeup and attitude. But you can't hide your true nature from me. You're incredibly loyal and a staunch friend to Anastasia. You can be so understanding and compassionate towards people when you think no one notices. But I do. And while I can be very boring, you..." he pulled away and looked into her face. "You liven up my life just by being around. You're independent and you have so much energy."
She looked incredulous. He must be absolutely insane or blind.
"Besides, how many chemists marry chemists? And how many accountants marry accountants? There is no rule that says couples should have the same interests. You have some interest in music and I have some interest in your store and its contents. Mild, but it's there. But I just love being around you. I miss you sorely when we are parted, and I relish your presence."
Storm could not help but be immensely flattered. To hear that someone loves you is special enough. But to hear such devotion and to hear that that beloved person loves you for who you are, is quite another thing.
She could only reply with actions.
When there was a sufficient lull in the conversation, Storm said, "I should be getting back to Wild Iris. I sort of dashed out of the store saying I'd forgotten something and would be back. Stacy will be wondering where I've gotten to."
"Do you want me to come with you?" Fries asked.
She knew his question had the deeper underlying question of how they were going to inform their friends and William and Elizabeth. Storm scrubbed her face, not wanting to deal with other people.
"Can we not keep it a secret?" she whined.
"I don't think that's a good idea," Fries replied.
"But... Anastasia kept me in the dark."
"She thought she had good reason." Fries saw her reluctance and took it as a bad omen. "Do you want to keep us a secret?" He pulled away from her and avoided looking her in the eye. She immediately read his body language and his tone of voice.
"No," she assured him. "Well, yes, but only because...." This was frustrating and difficult to put into words. She sighed. "It's always so awkward with other people around watching and making judgements and everything. Besides, I thought you were a very private person."
"I am generally." He smiled shyly, saying, "But right now, I have so many emotions cooped up inside me, I want to shout it from the rooftops."
Storm laughed nervously, avoiding his eyes. Now that the initial euphoria of newfound love had passed, she began to feel embarrassed and uncomfortable. Here was someone she had considered a pesky housemate for years. Someone to argue with, someone with whom to gang up against the younger foster kids, someone who got mad when she had her music on too loud. Then he had been a friend, soon becoming a close friend and then a best friend. While her own feelings of love had been recent, having been realised through her jealousy, she was still unused to looking upon Fries as a lover. He was... Fries. Just Fries. And at times she would look at him and he would be Fries the friend. And then at other times she would catch this adoring look in his passionate, dark eyes and it would make her nervous and uneasy. It had been so long since she had been in a relationship. Frank had been her last real boyfriend, and he had never looked at her like that. He had never been tender and gentle like Fries. She didn't know how to deal with it. He didn't seem to suffer from the same malady, so she didn't want to bring it up lest it hurt his feelings. On the other hand, he might notice her nervous awkwardness and take it the wrong way.
She really did feel uncomfortable about telling her friends about it. She had already told West, so he would just be happy for her. She guessed that West would tell Taylor. But either way, she could maybe call West and drop a hint suggesting she didn't mind if he did tell his lover, and then it wouldn't be so unexpected to them. Anastasia... well she had no right to complain about secrecy. She would let her know on her own, though. William and Elizabeth? She didn't know how they would react. They would have to tell them together. They would be insulted if she and Fries didn't both speak to them. Would they have an objection? Would they say it was a bad idea? Would they disapprove?
Fries studied her face. She didn't seem to notice him, as if she were deep in thought. He didn't disturb her then, he just reveled in this newfound bliss. There were difficulties on the horizon, and she obviously was still a little uneasy about it, but there was time. He could be patient knowing that she did care for him.
Storm realised she'd been silent for a duration of some length. Abruptly she said, "I'm going back to Wild Iris."
"Ok."
"What are you doing today?"
"Um... I think I'll find myself a piano and finish my composition."
"All right then. I will see you tonight sometime."
"Sure."
The nervousness was acute for Storm. She dug her hands into her pockets, and said, "Bye then."
Fries, not willing to let her go like that, and realising she was uneasy, caught her arm to stop her. "Storm."
She turned.
He looked at her for a few long seconds, then just leaned over and gently kissed her cheek. He walked off in the direction of his piano practice room.
Storm watched him leave and felt guilty. She probably should have kissed him goodbye. That was what she was supposed to do, right? She turned around and walked back to Wild Iris.
When she entered the store, she saw Stacy was swamped with people needing her attention. Shedding her coat, gloves and scarf, Storm stepped into the breach and asked one customer if she could help her.
For some reason it was a busy day, and there were things that had been neglected during Storm's long absence. Storm had little time to think about the day's events. And on top of everything else, a shipment of merchandise came in.
When they had closed the store, Storm decided it was time to talk. She scooped up Colonel Fitzwilliam, asked Stacy to sit on the front sofa with her, and they proceeded to have the first best-friend-talk since Stacy bumped into Martin. Storm learned all about Stacy's love life, and in turn Stacy learned all about Storm's recent angst.
Storm finally got to the day that they came back. She paused for a few minutes, wondering if she should explain why she hadn't come into work the previous day. She decided she would, and continued her story. Stacy was horrified to say the least. She was hurt that Storm hadn't even called to tell her she'd been hospitalised or Fries for that matter. Storm just assured her that everything turned out fine.
Storm continued, explaining why she had dashed out of the door that morning and what ensued after that. To say that Stacy was ecstatic is an understatement. She was thrilled and happy for Storm. Stacy thought she should be surprised, but for some reason, she wasn't. Just very happy. Things had worked out fine in the end.
It was late by the time they had decided to go home. It was raining steadily and Storm didn't have an umbrella. She said good night to Stacy and then slowly walked home in the cold rain, huddling into her waterproof coat.
She was unsure about where to go with Fries after that morning. For most couples, they met, dated, then moved in or married. Not with her and Fries. They were already used to living with each other. So what was the next step? Would they go out on dates? When was the goodnight kiss? At the door to the flat? At her bedroom door? It was his home too.
By the time she entered her flat, her head was fully soaked and the icy rain was running down her neck, soaking her jumper underneath. Fries looked up when he heard her come in.
"Good grief! You're soaking!"
"Nice observation, Einstein," she quipped, shedding her outer coat and hanging it on the bathroom door to drip dry.
Fries kissed her cheek and looked at her with some concern. "You're freezing. Why don't you take a hot shower?"
"Fine."
She went into the bathroom and stepped into a steaming shower, warming her thin, shivering body in it.
Fifteen minutes later when she emerged, she saw Fries on the phone while in the kitchen. He saw her and smiled a tight smile before turning back to the stove.
"Yes, I understand that," he was saying with strained patience. "Yes, you already told me that. ... I know. ... I think confining him to his room is the worst thing you could do. ... Because that just encourages him to rebel more. ... You should really be asking Storm this, not me. ...She just came home. ...She's only going to tell you the same thing I have. You can only restrict teenagers so much before they rebel. ...No I am not generalising."
Storm walked over to him and he slid an arm around her waist, leaning his head on her shoulder, still holding the phone to his ear. "Ok. ...Yes. ...All right. ... I know, I will. ...I love you too. ...Bye."
He hung up, then turned to wrap his other arm around her and bury his face in her shoulder. Storm laughed. "Bad day?"
"Where've you been? I was getting worried."
"I can't believe you don't think I could take care of myself in this city."
"That wasn't what I was worried about," was all he said in reply.
"Stacy and I had a lot of catching up to do."
"So you're friends again?"
"We never were not friends, Fries." He gave her a skeptical look. "Well, ok," she amended. "We may have gone through a rough spot, but that's all behind us now."
"Good."
"And how did your time with the piano fare?"
"Pretty well."
He didn't seem to want to expound on that, so she asked, "What are you making?"
"Soup and rolls."
"Lovely. When will it be ready?"
"Now, if you are."
Storm got the bowls and spoons out and then paused.
"What?"
"So, when would be our first date, then huh?" she asked. "I mean, would this be our first date. We're having dinner. Or would previous to today be called dating time, too. Or do we have to declare it a date beforehand?"
Fries understood what she was getting at. He extended his hand for one of the bowls and she gave it to him. He poured the soup out and then took the other bowl to fill.
Finally, he said, "What do you suggest? Would you like me to move out? We could do the whole dating thing, I come and pick up you up etc."
They sat down at the table. "No, that seems silly after living together for several months. But at the same time, I don't feel like I've reached that stage yet."
"I didn't think you had, considering you won't even kiss me of your own volition."
"That's not true," she protested.
He raised one eyebrow in challenge. She retreated. But said defensively, "This is new to me."
"I didn't say anything," he replied.
"You implied it."
"Storm, I think we've already had a comfort level higher than most people who move in together."
"Comfort level is different. Yes, I am comfortable with you. But that hasn't meshed with... with new developments. It's an odd transition."
"I understand that. So what do you suggest we - or I - do?"
"I don't know."
He reached over the table and clasped her hand, looking at her intently. "I want this to work. Long term. I will do whatever it takes."
Storm laughed uneasily. "See... it's that which is hard for me to deal with. One minute we're calmly eating dinner, and the next you're professing deep emotion for me."
Fries went back to calmly eating his dinner. "You want me to hide the fact that I love you."
"No, that's not what I said."
"What are you saying?"
Storm rested her forehead in her hand, leaning on the table. "I don't know," she said with a sigh.
"Are you saying that you don't...?"
"No. I do care a lot for you, but I need to adjust."
"I will be leaving to return to my career very soon."
Fries was reassured by the genuine look of disappointment in her face. "Oh."
"But rather than returning to the States as my home base of sorts, I could make London my destination for home." He said this hesitantly, unsure as to how to proceed with her. He didn't want to rush her, but was impatient at the same time.
She smiled. "I would be insulted if you didn't come stay here."
Fries picked up the dishes and put them into the sink. "You were never conventional. I don't see why you think our relationship should follow the norms either."
"I never said it should."
"Good."
Storm got up and caught him by the shoulder, turned him, and leant to kiss him. He was caught off guard, but recovered and pulled her closer into his embrace, gratified beyond words at her actions.
While things were awkward between them at this stage, there was nothing awkward about their embrace. Storm felt happy being with him, and inordinately attracted to him.
The following day, Fries brought lunch for her, and they ate together in Wild Iris, occasionally feeding tidbits to the Colonel. Storm had given Anastasia several days off in return for handling the store on her own for so long.
The next evening, Fries and Storm went over to Taylor and West's flat for dinner. Anastasia had been invited, but since it was such short notice, she had already made plans with Martin. Instead, it was decided that the subsequent Friday evening, all six would have dinner at Anastasia's flat. She rarely entertained, but it was thought fitting.
Martin's introduction to the group went well. He and Storm hit it off, much to Stacy's delight. That dinner was also the occasion when Stacy announced that she and Ana were seeing a psychiatrist. While her multiple personality disorder could not be cured, she could improve. Specifically by being able to switch at will, being able to control who was when, and by the two women being able to talk to each other. It would take time and effort, but the outlook was optimistic.
The evening before Fries left to return to his concert tours, he and Storm called Elizabeth and William, using the speakerphone so both could speak and hear. They explained their relationship, and everything that had occurred between them. William had to apologise to Storm for causing her misery, but she just laughed. It was in the past and she could laugh.
Storm accompanied Fries to the airport the morning of his departure. He would only be gone for a week and a half, but she was inordinately displeased and upset about his leaving. It had been what seemed like only a few days since they had come to an understanding, while in reality it had been nearly a week. When he had booked his tour, he had had no idea things would turn out like they did.
They held hands in a comfortable silence as he pulled his suitcase behind him through the airport. She stood by him as he checked in, and then went with him to the lounges to wait for his plane to board.
"I'll be back sooner than you know it," he said.
"I know."
The silence returned.
Then finally he said, "Look, I know this is soon, and... we haven't spoken of any kind of commitment to each other or anything. But I wanted to give you this... as... a token of my devotion to you. Don't freak out about it. I understand fully that you are not a woman I can - or would like to - control or possess."
He handed her a box. A small, black, velvet box. Trembling, Storm wordlessly took it from him and opened it. It was a small silver band carved with dainty flowers and vines. She picked it up and nearly dropped it as it moved in her hand.
He explained, "It's a secret ring within a ring. The inscription on the hidden inner ring is from Marie de France and reads Ni vous sans moi, ni moi sans vous. It means 'Never thee without me, nor me without thee'.* I thought you would appreciate something more discrete than the flashy diamonds."
Storm, who prided herself on her self-control, to her chagrin, found that her eyes were filling completely against her will. The tumult of amazingly wonderful emotions within her seemed humanly impossible to contain.
Fries, worried that she didn't like it, said, "I can take it back if you don't like it." He hesitated. "I've rushed you haven't I? S***! I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done this."
Concerned he would continue in his erroneous train of thought, she took the ring, examined it more closely, reading the French inscription and memorising it before sliding the ring onto the fourth finger on her left hand. Fries stopped his blathering, and watched her. Finally, she was able to look him in the eye.
"I love you," was all she said, but so much more was imparted by the expression in her eyes and in her face.
Fries betrayed his emotions only by the smallest of smiles before he pulled her into a tight embrace, kissing her passionately enough to make up for all the days they would be separated.
Fries Bennet received the best reviews he had ever earned in his entire career. And this, coming after an unusually long break from performing.
'Bennet performs with a fervent passion that is simply contagious.'
'Fries Bennet somehow manages to convey so much more emotion through the piano in one piece than the whole orchestra behind him can in an entire performance.'
'Bennet effortlessly poured out sparkling fountains of arpeggios that cascaded up and down the keyboard; huge chords exploded with breathtaking precision; never was there any hesitation, timidity or second thoughts. If you weren't involved in the music at the beginning, it slammed into you, almost as far out as the parking lot...relentless exhilaration...the experience was electrifying.'**
'Whatever this young man did during his time off from performing, perhaps other young pianists should try. The sound is refreshing and invigorating. A concerto with Bennet is no longer a relaxing experience but one of involvement.'
'Let us hope this musician continues for many years to come as he has with his return to the stage.'
'Something must have influenced this young pianist to bring such a new sound to tried and tested music. Someone do the research and find out what it was!'
And after his amazing return to performing, he published his first symphony under the guidance of an old mentor. 'The Last Storm' became known as one of the most romantic piano concertos of the 20th century and launched Fries into the entirely new international arena of composing.
* This is an actual ring I saw for sale in Past Times catalog. I loved it so I put into a story.
** I got that quote from a St Louis Post-Dispatch review of the pianist, Robert Silverman.
Here is the Key to the Emma parallels:
Fries = George Knightley
Storm = Emma Woodhouse
Anastasia = Harriet Smith
Martin = Robert Martin
Taylor = Miss Taylor
West = Mr. Weston
Henrietta = Miss Bates
Box Manor = Box Hill
Mr. and Mrs. Elson = Mr. and Mrs. Elton
Elizabeth and William = loosely fit into John and Isabella Knightley's roles
Jane = loosely based on Jane Fairfax
Frank = loosely based on Frank Churchill
Dr. Perry = Mr. Perry the apothecary
Wild Iris = loosely based on Hartfield
Colonel Fitzwilliam the cat = just for kicks! ; )
"...and you know we are not really so much brother and sister as to make it at all improper." "Brother and sister! no, indeed."
Age difference, though it is swapped and not as drastic.
Storm has the same misunderstanding about Anastasia loving the man she finds out she loves.
Storm compares herself to the perfect musician girlfriend, Jane, as Emma compares herself with Miss Fairfax.
She is charged with trying to separate Stacy and Martin. Fries is for their union.
The independence of both Storm and Emma. The fairness and level headedness of Fries and Knightley.
Storm does go through a mild transition into a more temperate person kind of like how Emma grows, too. Storm is really controlling of Anastasia in the beginning. Not controlling per se, but more dominant. At the end of the story, she's backed off and let Anastasia make her own decisions, which is very like Emma and Harriet.
Last, but not least, the Happy Ending. (of course!)
Hope this has cleared up some of the confusion. And I think there may be more, but I can't remember them all. They can be pretty subtle.