Fic: Cake or Death? (M) - (2 Parts)

[Frick]

So, only how many months after I first started thinking about the sequel, I finally finished it! Yeah, real life gets in the way. At least I got to see Eddie do a WIP gig a few weeks ago - that helped the inspiration! Thanks all, for encouragement, comments and feedback. I so appreciate it. Ok - enough babble.

Part II

"Absence is to love what

wind is to fire -

it extinguishes the small and

inflames the great."

~ Anonymous

Beth rubbed her eyes and yawned. She refreshed her email for the third time in as many minutes, but it refused to yield a new message. She yawned again, jaw cracking and ears popping. She squinted at the numbers on the upper right of her monitor and they came clear. 2 am, which meant it was 10 am in London. Late enough for him to be awake, but early enough that he wouldn't be out yet – they had agreed it would be the best time to chat, either by IM or email. He must have forgotten, again. She jabbed the monitor power with one finger. “Dammit, Eddie,” she grumbled. “Selfish man.”

But then she sighed, long and deep. “Stupid Beth, more like.” She shoved her chair under the desk so she wouldn't trip over if she had to pee in the middle of the night, then flopped down on her bed. Little Dog, who had been sleeping soundly, glanced up from her pillow and gave her a dirty look. “Oh, don't you start too, LD.” The puppy licked Beth's nose, then curled up under the covers against her stomach. Beth reached down and scratched between the pup's ears.

Without the monitor's glow, the room was almost completely dark. The only light filtered down through the skylight above her bed. She gazed up and watched clouds drift over stars and the moon. It wasn't Eddie's fault she'd spent three nights waiting for him to come online, or drop her a short email to say he was alive. Not his fault she had no life outside of work, classes and her dog. He was doing what he wanted – they'd made no promises to each other. It was her own fault that she spent an hour hitting 'refresh', hoping for the inbox to bold with a new message. Her own fault she compared every date's sense of humor to his (what few there had been) and let them come up lacking. Her own fault she kept listening for a British accent every time she answered the phone.

She was being as lame as the girls she could never stand in high school. Obsessing over some guy who clearly wasn't interested in them. Worse, because she knew better. Forget it, she told herself. He went back to London; she had a life here in California. They were friends and she should stop trying to imagine it could be anything more.

Beth closed her eyes, rubbing LD's belly gently. She'd thought there had been a shift between them over Halloween. They'd spent the night together, curled around each other. By the next morning he seemed in a better mood, though his cold was worse. She'd offered to bring him some home-made soup when she got off work, but though he'd thanked her (graciously, of course) he'd said no. Closed the door. Sometimes she felt like she was still out there on his doorstep, waiting for him to open and let her in. It was time to walk away, she told herself as she began to drift. Long past time.

The next morning Beth walked past the computer without turning it on. She thought about it, but she'd deal with one step at a time. Whenever her thoughts turned to him she simply moved her focus to something else. After a few days she found that she rarely thought of him at all.

She worked, she went to class, she studied and whenever she had a free evening she went out with Deanna and her friends. They spent long hours drinking beer in the back garden of Wild Side West, discussing the latest work gossip, whatever they happened to be reading at the time and everything else that crossed their minds. Eddie's name didn't come up.

If they weren't at Wild Side, they could usually be found at the Cafe, drinking rum and Cokes or vodka tonics and dancing until the sweat stuck their hair to their cheeks. Sometimes the press of bodies surrounding them and the thudding bass combined and in those moments Beth could lose herself. The world narrowed to nothing more than the music and the way her body moved. Those were her favorite times and all the better when Deanna shared them. But she danced alone.

One night, as Beth was getting ready to go dancing, she called up her email to make sure Deanna hadn't changed plans on her. There was a new message. The address in the 'From' column – Eddie's. Her stomach turned, but she quickly pushed the feeling aside. Just an email, she told herself. Even so her mouse hovered over the link for longer than usual. It was dated a few days prior and Beth found herself relieved that she hadn't read it sooner.

My Bethy, he wrote. Would it paint you enough of a picture if I said I missed San Francisco weather? At least the fog lifts once in a while in California. London has been dead dreary since I arrived. Beginning to wonder if the sun still exists. Maybe it's one of the signs of the apocalypse? Just before the plague of frogs. Beginning to consider building an ark. Or a speedboat, at the very least. Nothing very thrilling to report. Just wanted to send you a note to let you know I haven't drowned yet. Hope California hasn't fallen into the Pacific, and that you're well.

Nothing more than those few lines. Nothing personal either shared or asked. It could have been written by anyone. Hell – maybe he had his manager drop her a line. Her cursor hovered over the delete button. Instead she clicked reply.

Nope, California is still here, causing consternation to all the red states. Doing well – spending most of my time with Deanna and her crowd. What free time work and school leaves me, anyway. And we're doing our part to keep things interesting. Good luck with the ark. Maybe your father should teach you to swim.

She powered down the computer, grabbed her wallet and headed out the door. The night air held a hint of moisture, but not enough for fog. That and something more – tonight was going to be one of those better nights, she could feel it. The drinks would be strong, the music would be loud and she would be beside one of her best friends. Nothing could be better.

The next day, with no warning, Beth was dropped unceremoniously on the shores of consciousness. She blinked at the ceiling for a long moment, gathering pieces of wandering brain, and took stock of the state of her body. All in one piece. She sat up slowly, head protesting the movement. She was still in the clothes she'd gone out in and she was tangled in her sheets. The room tilted, then righted itself. Her stomach rolled uneasily. Her mouth tasted like ass and she smelled like an ashtray. Memory of the night before was foggy, but she was able to piece it together. There had been drinking. Then dancing. Then more drinking. Urg, then cigarettes. That was the problem – cigarettes always gave her a hangover. Then more dancing, drinking, lather rinse repeat. Sometime around 4 am Deanna had tossed her in a cab and sent her home, before heading to an after-party with a woman she'd met at the club. Beth glanced at her watch and scowled – not even ten. She should still be sound asleep. What had woken her? Trying to figure it out was far too much work. She collapsed back into her pillows and pulled her sheet over her face. Sleep, she was in desperate need for sleep.

She had nearly drifted off when she heard it. Knocking. Tentative, but persistent. Dammit. Who the hell thought nine am on a Saturday (her one day off) was a good time for a morning chat. She rolled over, considered ignoring it. It was probably a solicitor. Or the mailman. Anyone else could come back at a more human hour. She closed her eyes.

Knocking. Again. Still. Dammit. “Hold on, hold on, I'm coming,” she called. Little Dog darted between her feet, almost tripping her as she stumbled across the studio. She picked up the pup and wrenched open the door. “What?”

“Hey Bethy.”

It took her muzzy brain several seconds to process, maybe because he was in bloke mode, complete with goatee and his red hair was stylishly tousled. “Eddie? What are you doing here?” Little Dog squirmed from her grasp and jumped down to sit up in front of Eddie, begging to be held.

He smiled, picking up the pup, and allowed her to kiss his cheeks. “Someone is pleased to see me.” But he didn't answer her question.

“It's the ass crack of dawn.”

“It's nearly nine. Hardly what I'd call dawn.” He grinned, but when she didn't smile his own faded. He cleared his throat. “I'm still on London time. I'm ready for dinner.”

“Just got back?”

There was some hesitation in his movement as he gestured to his bag. “Direct from the airport.” His tone was slightly awkward and Beth found a small part of herself taking savage pleasure in that. “May I ... come in?”

She stepped back, but didn't open the door any wider. He fumbled for a minute with his suitcase and Little Dog and the door, but somehow managed not to drop anything. Beth just watched.

“So,” he said, once he'd made it inside and closed the door. “Late night?”

“Pretty much.” She turned, headed for the kitchen. Since she clearly wasn't going to be getting any more sleep she was going to need caffeine. A lot of caffeine. And maybe something to soak up the acid building in her stomach. What was it about hanging out with Deanna that made her think she was still in her twenties? She could only hope that Deanna was in at least as much pain. Though there was little to no chance someone knocked on her door at this hour of the morning. And even less chance that she'd answer if they did. She pulled out a coffee filter, filled the water reservoir and was reaching for the canister of coffee when she realized – she'd run out the day before and hadn't stopped at the store. Dammit.

Beth turned abruptly back, and he was standing right behind her. Too close. She took a step back, then another. Attempting to ignore the sudden tripping of her heart, she covered her momentary discomfort with irritation. “What are you doing here,” she demanded.

Eddie raised a brow. “Not allowed to visit a friend?”

“You're allowed to do whatever you damn well please. That doesn't answer my question.”

“Sounded to me like it did.”

She huffed out a breath and skirted around him, careful not to even brush his leather jacket. Even so, her skin felt hyper-aware of exactly how close he was. And of her own rather scanty clothing situation. She didn't exactly dress for guests when she went dancing. If he'd just given her some warning... “Well it didn't,” she said over her shoulder. “You just show up on my doorstep after two and a half months without a phone call or anything.” She yanked the curtain that separated her bed from the rest of the living space closed, then began a rather fruitless search for something warm and clean to wear.

“When was the last time either of us called before stopping by?” His voice was slightly muffled as she pulled a sweatshirt over her head and for a moment she considered just staying that way until he left. “I came all this way to see you – how about I take you out for breakfast and you can tell me about what I missed while I was gone.”

The cajoling in his tone mollified her, slightly, but the thought of food made Beth's stomach turn uneasily. “No food; just coffee. And you're driving.” She tossed him her keys on the way out the door.

She closed her eyes as soon as they got into the car. She would have liked to sleep, but the tension that hummed through her wouldn't allow it. Why didn't he stay across the pond? It would have been so much easier. Easier not to think about him. Not to wonder. Easier to go along pretending that there hadn't been a weird shift in their friendship, something that seemed to have changed the rules but not left anything in their place.

The slightly strained silence between them held until, coffee and tea in hand, they crossed the Great Highway to Ocean Beach. They stopped at the water's edge, gazing out toward the Farallon Islands, though they were fully obscured by the fog. Beth's hair blew back from her face and she shivered slightly into her sweatshirt. But the rush and crash of the waves breaking soothed her, and the coffee warmed her from the inside. At last the tension along her shoulders and back loosened.

“You must have brought the fog with you,” she said, finally.

He nodded, still facing the ocean. “I'm not sure I'd recognize the city in the sun.”

It was a slight thaw between them, but it was a beginning. When Eddie kicked off his shoes and waded ankle-deep in the surf, Beth allowed herself to follow suit. The water was shockingly cold – never warm enough for swimming or surfing without a wetsuit, even in the heat of summer. But Beth didn't mind. She loved the wildness of the Pacific, crashing against the cliffs, relentless. She watched Eddie out of the corner of her eye as he waded deeper, the legs of his jeans turning dark as they soaked up water.

“You're crazy,” she said finally. “You're going to freeze your ass off.”

He shook his head in mock dismay. “You California girls have thin blood. It's not nearly cold enough for that.”

“Just wait, you'll get sick and then it'll be nothing but days of tissues and whining and I get to say I told you so.”

“You must have been absent the day they covered viruses in Biology, then.”

“No way; here in the States they don 't teach us such new fangled ideas. God created the world in six days, and he didn't sound like James Mason, either.”

“Cruel, darling, very cruel.”

“Sometimes the truth hurts,” she said innocently.

Eddie pouted, but there was a glimmer in his eyes. Before Beth decided exactly what form his revenge might take, he leaned down and with one smooth motion sprayed water up and over her.

“Oh, you're so dead,” she said and splashed him back.

For a long moment the air was filled with raining droplets and their cries as particularly good shots hit their targets. It didn't take long before they were both dripping wet, soaked to the skin and shivering.

“I'm about to turn into an icicle,” Beth said.

“Surrender,” Eddie responded.

“Not a chance. You surrender! I see you shivering over there.”

He wrapped his arms around himself. “Not me.” Suddenly he ducked his head. “Heh..chht!” He staggered forward as though knocked off balance. And his expression was one of exaggerated surprise when he straightened.

Beth's face went hot. “You faker. You never sneeze just once.” The minute the words were out of her mouth she wanted to take them back. Who noticed something like that?

He shook his head. “Am.. n..not,” a quick breath, then, “heh...isshah!” He sniffled, wiped his nose in the sleeve of his wet shirt, and gave her his most pathetic look. “I think I'm coming down ill.”

“Bullshit.” Beth swallowed past the lump in her throat. “You're just giving me grief for saying you'd catch cold.”

“Think what you like.” He shrugged, shivering again – perhaps a bit more theatrically than before, and waded back to shore.

Beth cocked her head curiously and followed, suddenly feeling less certain than she had been. Maybe he was getting sick. Airplanes were cesspools of germs with their recycled air and everyone sitting practically on top of each other... But he didn't look sick. And he'd been fine just a few minutes before. No, he was putting her on. Making up her mind to ignore his theatrics, she fixed her resolve.

When she reached the car, he'd taken his usual spot on the passenger side. Not that she minded, she preferred driving and now that her head wasn't threatening to split open she could handle city traffic. She pulled the handle, but the doors were still locked. “Keys would help here,” she said, bouncing on her toes. It was going to feel better than good to turn the heater on and get home. Wet clothes were not fun. “Eddie?” She looked up, catching him with a rather vacant expression. “Earth to Eddie.”

He held up a finger. “A minute,” he managed before turning away and sneezing into his sleeve. Once, pause, twice, longer pause, and then the third. He shook his head once, like a dog shaking off water, then tossed her keys over the roof.

She fumbled them and they hit the concrete with a clatter. 'Pull yourself together, girl,' she told herself. 'He's faking it to get your attention.' But as he leaned against the door, she could see exhaustion in every line of his body. She sighed. Traveling for hours, and ... maybe... getting sick. Her heart softened. “Salud,” she said.

“Pardon.” He scrubbed his nose with the edge of his sleeve, then rubbed his eyes with one crooked finger, looking at that moment not much older than five.

Shit, Beth thought as they got into the car. He knew just how to act. It was a losing battle. What did it matter that he'd ignored her for months? They were friends and friends didn't keep tally, right? “Dry clothes and something hot to drink should fix you up,” she said, and reached into the pocket of the door, then threw him a travel packet of Kleenex.

He blew his nose softly and leaned his head against the window.

“How was your dad,” she asked.

He shrugged. “He's fine. Wishes I spent more time nearby, of course. But he's fine.”

“And Mark?”

“Fine, fine. Everyone's fine. All of England is fine.” His voice had gone congested and his n's began to sound more like d's.

“Excuse me, Mr. Grumpy McNasty.” She tried to keep her tone light, but there was an underlying edge she couldn't soften. She was going to lose her mind trying to read the man.

He yanked another tissue from the pack just in time to catch a small fit of sneezes. “heh-nxght!

Issht! Heeeh... chhhht! Ehh..ushhah! Damn it,” he swore and blew his nose.

“Salud,” she said again.

“That's really not necessary, love. I'm going to be at this for a while.” Despite his words, it seemed as though the sneezes had passed for the moment. Beth found herself relieved. Maybe she'd have a chance to gather her scattered thoughts and get some sort of grasp of what the hell was going on before they arrived back at her place.

Unfortunately her thoughts were no clearer as she unlocked her front door and ushered Eddie inside. He was shivering again, or maybe still, and his nose had acquired an ominous pink tinge. Before she considered, she reached up and pressed a hand to his forehead. Warm, certainly, but not too hot. “All right so you aren't faking. If you want to take a shower, there's a clean towel on the back of the door. And put on some warm clothes. My cupboards might be bare, but I can boil water and I'm sure there's some tea around here somewhere.”

He rolled his eyes at her, but didn't argue. It was the prolonged silence more than anything else that truly convinced her. He was sick, again. Suitcase in hand, he disappeared into the bathroom with Little Dog trailing after him.

“Fickle beast,” Beth said to the puppy. As she filled the kettle and put it on the stove she heard Eddie sneezing in the bathroom. And then the water running. She hoped the shower would help.

By the time the water boiled, she'd changed into dry clothes as well. She poured them each a mug and took one to Eddie, who was curled into a corner of her couch, an afghan wrapped around his shoulders. He'd brought the box of tissues from the bathroom and set it next to himself. She sat on the other side of the couch, careful to leave space between them.

“You look like shit.” She sipped at the tea, promptly burning her lips.

He held the mug just below his chin and the steam rose over his face. “Doesn't even begin to express how I feel.” His normally smooth voice had gone rough and he cleared his throat, wincing. “Sorry, Bethy.”

“For what?”

“For being like this, around you. Again.”

She shrugged it off. “You didn't know you were sick.”

“That's not what I meant.” He paused, coughed, sipped his tea.

Finally she got tired of waiting for him to continue. “What's going on, Eddie? Really. You disappear for two months then show up here and act like nothing's changed between us when clearly that isn't true.”

“I didn't want it to,” he said so softly that she almost didn't hear him. “I didn't... because I don't think I can do this.”

“Do what?” She set her mug carefully on the coffee table, as though the gesture would keep her safe, would protect her. She wasn't sure she wanted to hear what he was going to say.

“Depend on you.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “What do you mean?”

He stared down into his tea for a long moment. “Last time I was with you, I was in a dark place. But being close to you... helped things feel not so dark. Made me remember that Melissa was wrong, and who I am is okay. But I can't depend on your for that. I need to find my way out of the dark myself.”

“Of course you do. But you can take comfort where it's offered, can't you?”

“I can, once. Twice. But then I'll come to rely on it... on you. And you won't be there.”

“How can you know that? You don't trust me?”

“It's not you, Beth. Not you particularly. It's anyone. The only person I know will be there for me, is me.”

Beth gulped at her tea, burning her throat, but the ache kept her eyes from tearing. “That's a pretty bleak view. What about love,” she asked, before she could think too hard about the words. “Isn't that love? Trusting someone to be there with you in the dark?”

“I loved my mother. She died. Love doesn't save you from the dark,” he shot back, then sneezed.

“Salud,” Beth said. Of course she'd known his mom died... but somehow it was an event that had seemed distant to her. Stupid girl. She closed the distance between them and put an arm around his shoulders. He tensed at her touch, but she didn't move away and neither did he. “Eddie,” she said, smoothing his hair gently behind his ear. “Love doesn't save you from the dark, but it keeps you from being there alone.”

He brushed tears from his cheeks with one fierce motion. “I can't...”

She kept her voice soft, easy. “Give it time. Give it a chance. Just please, don't close the door and walk away again.”

He took a deep, shuddering breath and relaxed at her side. “I'll try.” He faced her and their eyes met. She leaned toward him slightly, offering. His lips met hers.

[funbusej]

Oh. MY GOD!!! I am speechless (sort of). Totally in love with him. Hope there is more to this spectacular story!!

[The Sneezster]

A thing of beauty. Thank you for continuing this.

[Hai]

I remember reading the first bit ages and ages and ages ago, back when I was just starting to read sneezefic. It was, perhaps, one of my very favorite and most memorable stories ever. Reading this addition is absolute heaven. You are spot on and it's a beautiful story. Hope for a continuation no matter how long it takes.

[Vetinari]

Oh Frick I'm so pleased there is a sequel to this. I read it too, ages ago and it made me so happy.....

It's a wonderful story. And I see this is meant to be the end.......but that's just too sad.

Oh and Fifi, I'm coming over to worship at your Eddie Shrine RIGHT NOW!