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riversofmars · 3 years

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Day 10! Back to Halifax today!

Prompt: Hospital | Ice-chips

Fandom: Last Tango In Halifax

Characters: Gillian Greenwood/Caroline McKenzie-Dawson

Rating: G

Summary: Caroline can't stand hospitals; since losing Kate, the very thought of being in one turned her stomach. So when she receives a call that Gillian has been taken into hospital, she is terrified.

Hospitals

Caroline’s heart was pounding in her chest as she pushed through the double doors and onto the surgical wing. She hated hospitals more than words could say. Since the day she had lost Kate, the very idea of setting foot in one again turned her stomach. Here she was now, with all the painful memories flooding back, called to yet another emergency. She tried to pull herself together but barely managed to slow her steps at all as she made for the nurses station.

“Caroline, over here!“ A familiar voice called before she got as far as speaking to the staff. Her head whipped around to see Raff heading towards her.

“Where is she, is she okay?“ Caroline asked immediately, coming to meet him halfway.

“She’s fine, she’s absolutely fine!“ Raff was quick to answer and pulled her into a brief hug.

“Really?“ Caroline relaxed a little. She knew he wouldn’t lie to her and that he would be in quite the state himself if it weren’t the case.

“Yes, really, she’s had surgery but it was quick and easy, they said, no lasting damage, they put a few screws in her leg or something, that’s it,“ Raff carried on explaining and pulled back. “You know me mum, tough as old boots, she’ll be fine in no time.“ He breathed a sigh of relief, as did Caroline.

“Right, that’s good.“ The headteacher ran her hand through her hair, trying to regain her composure and dignity. Her mind had been preoccupied by terrible visions of what could have happened and how - after having lost Kate - she could have lost Gillian too. She had been overreacting, she was well aware of that. Her mother had explained to her on the phone that Gillian had merely had a fall and broken her leg. Caroline’s overactive imagination and past experiences had led her to imagine far worse. She felt a little silly now, particularly seeing that as far as other people were concerned, she was merely her stepsister. “Is she awake?“ She asked at last and Raff nodded.

“Yeah, she’s pissing off nurses already by wanting to go home. She’s a godawful patient. Luckily she can’t talk much, her voice has gone from having that tube in but it’s out now,“ he explained with amusement and Caroline chuckled. That sounded just like Gillian.

“Thank the Lord for small mercies,“ she tried to joke but it came out flat as her voice remained more shaky than she would have liked.

“Caroline, honestly, she’s fine,“ Raff reassured her kindly, picking up on her lingering worries. She reached out and gave her hand a squeeze.

“Right. Where is she then?“ Caroline asked, taking a deep breath.

“This way,“ Raff replied and walked her down the corridor to the room Gillian was in. It was a side room which afforded them some privacy.

“Are you alright Caroline, you look a bit pale,“ Celia piped up as she spotted her daughter and got to her feet. She had been perching on a seat outside the room, and Caroline could only presume Alan would be inside with his daughter.

“Fine, Mum, I just want to see Gillian,“ Caroline answered with a thin smile and Celia frowned.

“Oh that’s right, you don’t like hospitals, do you?“ She sat down again, returning her attention to the magazine she had been reading. “Don’t worry, it’s just a broken leg…“ She waved it off, and Caroline chose to ignore her mother for the time being, there was no point in getting annoyed with her now when she was the least of her worries. She knocked on the door briefly but didn’t wait for a response before pushing inside.

“Caroline, love!“ Alan greeted her with a kind smile. “Look who it is, Gillian, it’s our Caroline.“ He gave his daughter’s hand a squeeze. Caroline just about managed a smile of greeting towards her stepfather before her attention turned to Gillian. The sheep farmer looked rather small on the big hospital bed. She was dressed in a hospital gown, she was hooked up to an IV and her right leg was in a cast. Her expression brightened upon seeing her, and a wave of relief washed over Caroline.

“You bloody idiot!“ The headteacher snapped as she approached the bed.

“Nice to see you too,“ Gillian managed a laugh, though her voice was hoarse and weak.

“What happened?!“ Caroline demanded to know, dropping her handbag at the bottom of the bed.

“Fell, didn’t I. Fu- Bloody ladder broke in barn an’…“ Gillian huffed and the headteacher interrupted her angrily:

“What were you doing going up that bloody ladder! It’s full of woodworm, you should have chucked it out years ago!“

“Alright, can you stop shouting, I’m poorly, you know,“ Gillian winced and coughed, her voice strained as she held up her hands defensively.

“You’re unbelievable,“ Caroline shot back.

“Can I have some more ice chips, Dad?“ Gillian turned to her father who had been watching the verbal sparring match with some amusement.

“Oh, yes, is your throat sore still?“ He asked, concerned.

“Yeah, and arguing with Caroline isn’t helping much,“ Gillian rasped to which Caroline just rolled her eyes.

“I’ll go and see nurse,“ he announced dutifully and got to his feet. “You be nice to her now, she’s had surgery, you know.“ He playfully wagged his finger at Caroline who smiled in response.

“I know Alan, I’ll be nice,“ she promised as he walked around the bed offering up the chair by the bedside to her. Caroline waited patiently until the door had shut behind him. The moment it clicked shut, she perched on the side of the bed and leaned down to kiss Gillian deeply. She pushed her hair back behind her ears and cupped her cheeks, desperate to reassure herself that she was okay. Gillian kissed her back, hugging her tightly, holding on for comfort.

“I’m alright…“ She breathed softly as she pulled back finally. She raised her hand to wipe away a few stray tears of relief that had fallen from Caroline’s eyes.

“Don’t you ever, EVER scare me like that again!“ The headteacher sniffed, straightening herself up, embarrassed at her strong response.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,“ Gillian mumbled in response with genuine regret in her voice.

“You bloody idiot!“ Caroline huffed, shaking her head to herself.

“It’s just me leg, it’ll be alright,“ Gillian reached out and took Caroline’s hand, she raised it to her lips and placed a soft kiss on her knuckles. “They fixed it all up. It’ll take some time to heal so no climbing ladders for a bit, but it’ll be okay,“ she explained softly.

“How are you gonna get about the house?“ Caroline sighed, not quite able to let go of her frustration yet.

“They’ll give me crutches…“ Gillian answered with a shrug.

“Would you like me to come and stay for a bit?“ Caroline asked, her voice turning softer as the last traces of fear and worry slowly dispersed.

“What if they get suspicious?“ Gillian mumbled, averting her eyes. She blushed a little.

“You need my help, it’s a good excuse…“ Caroline reasoned as she tried not to get too excited at the prospect. Gillian was right of course, it might not be a good idea… “Do you think maybe we should tell them?“ She asked after brief contemplation. Things would get a lot easier if they could find a way of breaking the news of their relationship to the rest of the family in a way that wouldn’t cause an irreparable rift between them. They had been involved romantically for months now and continued to keep everyone in the dark. While things had been going incredibly well between them, neither of them was eager to share the news with everyone else, particularly their parents.

“I don’t know… but I’m surprised they didn’t guess from the way you barged in here,“ Gillian chuckled.

“Shut up,“ Caroline huffed and Gillian grinned:

“You shut up.“

“You did really scare me though…“ The headteacher said more earnestly as she pulled her hand towards her, cradling it against her chest, holding her tightly.

“I’m sorry, Caz, you didn’t need that, to be called to hospital like that when…“ Gillian gave her an apologetic smile as she gently stroked the back of her hand with her thumb.

“You’re okay, that’s all that matters,“ Caroline kissed the back of her hand and gave her a warm smile. That really was all she cared about. Her emotional anguish came second to Gillian’s wellbeing. So long as the sheep farmer was okay, Caroline would be too.

“Can’t get rid of me that easily,“ Gillian joked and Caroline sighed.

“I love you, Gillian,“ she smiled and reached out with her free hand to stroke her cheek.

“You… what?“ Gillian looked back at her, stunned, and the headteacher realised her mistake.

“Ah right… I never said that before…“ She gave an apologetic smile but didn’t retreat to safer waters. What would be the point of that? It was the honest to God truth and Gillian might as well know.

“Do you really?“ The sheep farmer asked and her voice was surprisingly small and insecure. It was those moments when the facade of her loud persona slipped and her insecurities, ingrained through years of disappointing relationships, shone through. Caroline knew she had always struggled to see herself as as desirable as she thought her.

“I’m afraid so…“ Caroline answered softly. “Is that… okay?“

“Of course it’s… yeah, that’s…“ Gillian cleared her throat awkwardly, struggling to meet her eyes. “Then we’d better tell them soon…“

“You think?“ The headteacher asked, her heart sinking at the prospect. “Why now, why…?“

“Because I love you too, Caz,“ Gillian cut in, looking up to her, seemingly needing to make sure she’d heard her.

“You do?“ Caroline’s eyes widened in surprise as her words sunk in slowly.

“Oh yes,“ Gillian sighed and a sheepish grin snuck onto her lips when Caroline started beaming.

“Right!“ She laughed joyfully. She leaned forward and captured her lips in a loving kiss that Gillian returned with equal delight.

“And you know what that means?“ Gillian asked, turning more serious as she pulled back.

“That we’re in love with each other?“ Caroline retorted, almost smugly. She couldn’t quite believe that they had just made this massive step in their relationship. She adored the sheep farmer more than she had the words to say and descriptions failed her, too, for how happy it made her to know she shared those feelings.

“That I need to get out of this cast as soon as possible and do my physio. And we need to break this gently to our parents,“ Gillian carried on explaining.

“Right… I’m not following…“ Caroline admitted, trying to piece together her thought process with amusement, but couldn’t.

“Well, I’m gonna need the use of my leg to get down on one knee and we can’t have a wedding without our parents there, so…“ Gillian grinned.

“You’ve gone mad!“ Caroline laughed, shaking her head in disbelief, but she couldn’t deny how much the idea of marrying Gillian appealed to her. Particularly when she had been so scared of potentially losing her just now. “You sure your head is quite clear from the anaesthetic because you’ve lost it!“ She teased, trying not to give away just how much she wanted that to happen.

“Just you wait…“ Gillian hummed, mysteriously.

“Are you serious?“ Caroline grinned, fully aware of how much her partner enjoyed winding her up.

“You’ll have to wait and see when I’m better…“ The sheep farmer retorted with a smirk. “But until then, come and look after me at the farm, yeah?“ She grabbed a handful of Caroline’s blouse and pulled her down for a kiss again.

“I’ll do my best to nurse you back to health,“ Caroline grinned in between kisses.

“Gillian, nurse said you…“ Alan halted in the doorway, nearly dropping the bowl of ice chips he was carrying. “Oh!“ Caroline pulled away as quickly as she could, retreating to the chair beside the bed but it was far too late.

“Busted,“ Gillian sighed, defeated. She took a deep breath and leaned back on the bed, bracing herself for Armageddon.

“Alan, we can explain…“ Caroline took a deep breath as well, willing herself to stay calm but her tight grip on the arm rests of her chair betrayed her tension.

“Okay… yes… that would be good…“ Alan stuttered and Gillian and Caroline exchanged a quick, concerned look. At least he wasn’t having a heart attack, that was something… He turned back to the door, then looked back to the two women, then back to the door. “I think I’m just gonna… Celia?! There’s some news…“

“Deep breaths, Caz, deep breaths… if things go wrong, I’ll pretend to have a complication from surgery, throw a blood clot or something, be fine…“ Gillian whispered to Caroline and grabbed hold of her hand. They would get through this together.

“Don’t even joke about it…“ Caroline hissed angrily, and Gillian gave her an apologetic smile.

“Just remember, I love you.“ She gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Well, good, cause I’m about to get disowned…“

“Well, they can’t really disown both of us, can they… and once we’re married, it won’t matter which one of us inherits,“ Gillian joked and Caroline actually laughed.

“Let’s get married then,“ Caroline smiled, looking at the sheep farmer with a smile.

“Who’s getting married?“ Celia asked bewildered, as her and Alan caught the back end of the conversation.

“We are. Caroline just asked and I said yes,“ Gillian answered with every confidence in the world and a bright smile on her face. Caroline gaped, that wasn’t exactly the gentle breaking of news they should have gone for but she couldn’t think about that now, not when there was something far more important to consider: Had Gillian just agreed to marry her?

“You’re not serious,“ Celia laughed it off, the magnitude of the moment utterly lost on her.

“Are you serious?“ Caroline asked softly and Gillian smiled.

“Absolutely.“ She nodded and pulled Caroline towards her for another kiss, neither of them caring who was there to witness it.

#Whumptober2021 #no.10 #hospital #ice-chips #fanfiction #gillian greenwood #caroline mckenzie dawson #caroline x gillian #femslash #fluff #whump #hurt/comfort #relationship reveal #love confessions #last tango in halifax

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alphabet-mafietta · 5 years

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Gillian: You need to give him a clear signal

Caroline: Yes I know but what? what could be clearer than saying that?

Gillian: Well...

There is no heterosexual explanation for this! I genuinely thought Gillian was going to kiss Caroline.

#last tango in halifax #ltih spoilers #ltih #caroline x gillian

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foxanddanapetrie · 4 years

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There is something fucking blissful about drinking wine and watching Last Tango in Halifax for the 5th time

#text #last tango in halifax #sally wainwright #caroline x gillian #gillian greenwood #caroline mckenzie dawson #nicola walker #sarah lancashire

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just-your-casual-nerd · 1 year

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Hehehehe

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lezziemanville · 5 years

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Gillian actually flirted with Caroline? I’m sorry, but are all my dreams actually coming true? Could it be?

#last tango in halifax #caroline mckenzie dawson #gillian whatever her last name is i forget #caroline x gillian #sarah lancashire #nicola walker #i mean they probably wont go there #but like #what if they did

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farminglesbian · 2 years

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these are some last tango fic fragments about anniversaries 💫

some longer, some not at all, i've had these lying around in various forms for 5 years; some i enjoy a lot, some less, some are just completely silly and i couldn't for the life of me make something more out of them, and other bits have been deleted, but anyhow it is time to post this at last and set it free :)

She is 55 years old today and, believe it or not, on a hike.

It's chilly, it's rained at noon, but birds are chirping, and the occasional cheerful hikers couple passes them by while she and Gillian dawdle about, bicker over their exact location on their small hiking map, and take photos for Mum and Alan to show their gratitude for the bestowed romantic weekend getaway.

Except for now. Except that Gillian's pulled her off the trail, and there she is, out of breath and some persistent, tiny thing pricking her neck. And a persistent, tiny woman clinging to her.

Pressed between a large trunk and Gillian's warm mouth and body—which does drown out any silly tree bark biting into her skin—Caroline's knees slightly cave, her vision is swimming of Gillian's eyes and hair and sea-green windbreaker, her heartbeat's picking up speed. It's a distraction, and, as such, it's working.

Gillian's really going for it. Caroline surprises herself with the needy noise she makes that Gillian absorbs with a hum. She grins into her mouth, keeps planting pecks on her lips, all impish eyes. She full well knows what she's doing—and Caroline summons all her strength to gently but firmly push her an arms length away. 'You've no idea where we are, do you?'

''Course I do, but that's not important right now,' Gillian replies, not even trying to sound convincing, and Caroline should be offended, really, but Gillian, still holding onto Caroline's scarf and parka, pulls her close again and effectively shuts her up. Her mouth's well-kissed, tongue still tasting like the burgundy they guzzled at the last lodge two hours ago. With great foresight, Alan and Mum had gifted them a stay at a resort where the wine flows plenty and the nearby trails are, presumably, safe enough to not get even their most squiffed lodgers lost.

Gillian stops and giggles—another hiker's trotting past them, not noticing the two snogging women ten feet away. He's whistling, and it conjures a pleasant memory in Caroline's mind.

There's a grin spreading over Gillian's face as well, who carries on humming the song, filling in lyrics as she remembers, lips touching Caroline's mouth turning it staccato….. and I find you spinning 'round in my brain... like the bubbles in a glass of champagne.

You go to my head—Caroline's swaying, remembering the very song they danced to last night, the evening it led to at the hotel—like a sip of sparkling burgundy brew—she nuzzles Gillian's throat, inhales her smell—and I find the very mention of you… like the kicker in a julep or two.—Gillian's humming vibrates behind Caroline's ear, sends goosebumps across her spine.

Alas, two can play at this game, so Caroline steps it up a notch and lets her hands wander underneath Gillian's anorak, and further, under her robust cardigan, the plaid shirt, past the tank top and, finally—Gillian gasping in delight—touching skin. Her mouth on Caroline's becomes more urgent, reacting in unison with Caroline's fingers on her back, her soft hips, and sneaking further up, first grazing, then—'aah,' goes Gillian—pushing against her breasts until Gillian turns pliant, clinging in earnest, and one hand on the tree for support.

Her eyes grow darker, and it's gorgeous—but Caroline pulls away, slips out of the prison of trunk and Gillian, to the latter's pouty protest.

'The rest you'll get if we make it back to dinner in time, because I'm sure as hell not shagging you on an empty stomach.'

Gillian laughs, pulls away, and struts forward with determination—that is hopefully not entirely misguided—and picks up her crooning, as irresistible as booze in the afternoon, or kissing on a well-frequented hiking trail.

You go to my head… with a smile that makes my temperature rise… Like a summer with a thousand Julys... you intoxicate my soul with your eyes...

'Stop checking on Greg.'

'I will, if you stop checking on Raff.'

'Do I have to remind you of the Great Downpour And Mucky Sheep Debacle of 2018 when we went to Spain? It rained for days, back home, and—'

'Mum and Alan are staying at the farm, having an eye!'

'That's… not having me less worried. Who's having an eye on them?'

'Let's just assume that everybody has an eye on each other.'

….

'Caz. You're doing it again. Remember we said no phones at dinner?'

'Greg might turn Flora into an addict while we're gone! Remember how he threatened to get her into healthy breakfast after deeming what I've been feeding her 'a catastrophe on her juvenile metabolism'? I might end up having to eat along chia seeds and goji berries for the next ten years! Or—no less worrisome—he might encourage her to change her entire wardrobe because he wants her to 'find herself.' She's eight, for Christ's sake!'

'You do dress her in a lot of pink.'

'I do not!'

'How can you even deny it?'

(Gillian promptly scrolls through her phone, offering the evidence not a second later, which rouses the suspicion she'd prepared for such a moment beforehand.)

'Fine! But, in my defence, she does look lovely in it, doesn't she?'

'That's true. I also hope you'll say the same next time she and Calam come back in, covered in sheep muck. Camouflage jumpsuits would work wonders there.'

….

'Gillian.'

'What? Raff sent a text earlier, sounding very worried about sheep not having finished their concentrate—bought another sort last week, shop didn't have our usual, and it's very important Maude and Shirley have proper calcium intake in late gestation—and he promised regular status reports.'

'We're mental. We're no better than every single phone-addicted youth we routinely bitch about over wine and organic crisps.'

'Well. A fault confessed is half redressed.'

(On Valentine's day they spent the entire morning at B&Q and, later, Ikea, under the pretence of looking for wood panels and assorted knick-knacks for the long-postponed barn renovation project. Instead they bought an excessive amount of gardening supplies half of which won't ever experience actual usage, and a cart full of stuffed animals. They had lunch at the restaurant where Gillian fooled around with the meatballs until Caroline's mouth crinkled, played footsie until she smiled, embarrassed, and later snogged her on the loo until a teenaged girl walked in, shrieked, blushed, apologized for the interruption, and ran for it, resulting in Caz bursting into laughter, guffawing herself to tears, and afterwards blaming Gillian for her bellyache while wrapping her arm around her side, kissing her cheek.

In the evening, Gillian sat Caroline down on the couch with an abysmal action movie rerun and got her pleasantly enough squiffed for her to put her head in Gillian's lap and let Gillian run her fingers through her hair for the small eternity it took for Caroline to fall asleep.)

Muted, insistent pinging rouses Gillian awake.

She groans. Reaches under her pillow, it is still dark, she quickly turns off the alarm but Caroline remains fast asleep at any rate. For the trained eye of an early riser, enough of the distant morning light creeps in through the window to make out shapes.

Caroline hisses softly and shifts closer, her hands not quite touching Gillian. Her collar's twisted, a button's opened up, revealing cleavage. Gillian—and it has hit her a few times before—cannot believe that she would be so lucky. It's been a few weeks of incomprehensible marvels.

Caroline's left hand carries a reminder of what she'd won and lost. Gillian imagines the finger empty, sometimes she wants it to be before she catches herself. She tucks hair behind Caroline's ear lest it'll tickle her nose and wake her.

Last night before bed she'd stuffed several bulky birthday presents into the downstairs closet, dinosaur plushies—as Flora's just entered a palaeontological phase—of which the girl will briskly point out the anatomical inaccuracies, and the accompanying encyclopedia to back up her claims, all wrapped up and ready to be conquered amidst a frankly terrifying amount of eight-year-olds who will be coming over at 2 o'clock.

Gillian gets up, slinks heavily out of bed, sheds her pyjamas with her back to Caroline. She is taking in the growing light painting the landscape of the farm into existence—might be a sunny afternoon today. There's a single bleat from barn. The sheep are not quite ready for the inevitable invasion of being admired, petted, and debatably molested by primary schoolers.

Caroline stirs and pulls the blanket closer to her chest. They'd gone to sleep entangled. Now Caroline's hugging another pillow, her face content.

Gillian puts on trousers and a T-shirt and jumper, thinks of the dress in the wardrobe chosen for the afternoon, of Caroline's hands on the material, her soft approval, pictures her hands on the dress, on Gillian.

While cutting hay bales, she thinks of Caz smiling about the girls being happy, of her almost certainly complaining afterwards about mucky clothes and sour parents, of finding methods to elevate her mood later, dishes and all be damned.

Back in the kitchen, she starts another batch of coffee, sets the table for a small breakfast, and goes back upstairs, sheds her clothes down to soft underwear. She crawls back into bed, spoons Caroline, and is told she smells of sheep. Gillian answers by pulling her closer, finding her hand under the blanket, and soothing the finger wearing the ring. Caroline tenses, almost imperceptibly, then relaxes into her arms, warmth spreading all over Gillian's body.

'You ready for today?', Gillian quietly says, caressing Caroline's arms, hands, sides, everything she can reach.

Caroline exhales, turns around to face her. 'Yep', she says. Smiling only for her.

'To 10 years of marriage and an inspiration to us all...'

'10 years, huh.'

'Cheers. I can't quite believe it, either.'

'To Dad and Celia.'

'Without whom we wouldn't be here today.'

'Quite literally…'

'Well, and thanks to our nosy sons.'

'Do you reckon we'd have still met some day, dropping the girls off at kindergarten or something?'

'Well, if we had, you'd have probably still nicked my parking space.'

'And you'd've shouted at me, called me trailer trash.'

'And you me a snotty bitch.'

'And we'd have gotten into an argument over who should and shouldn't be allowed to drive cars, and proper child care and—'

'Ah, you mean just like we did last week?'

'Must be fate, then.'

'Err, I don't know if I like that thought. It's more like... stuff that happens, leads to actions, leads to where we get in the end. Just like... with those two. Even though it took them a while. But, you know, I'm actually grateful to your mother for not delivering that letter to Alan.'

'You… are?'

'Yep. Well… not to mention the fact that we wouldn't have been born if she had…'

'Or—who knows—could've been born actual sisters!'—'Oi, that hurt!'

'You wouldn't have your Raff, I wouldn't have Will and Lawrence, and... Flora.'

'Your mum, she could've been spared a lot of stuff, a shit marriage for starters… But I quite like how things have turned out.'

'Wasn't always easy… but I like where I've ended up.'

'Shacked up with a sturdy sheep farmer. Imagine what your twatty former Oxford student self would say to that!'

'Shut up and kiss me.'

Gillian's in bed, staring blindly at the ceiling. It's pitch-dark. She's had a nightmare, and her cheek still smarts from it.

It always being the same, awful conjuration, especially around this time of year, of Eddie, and the imprint he left on her subconscious, only ever so slowly fading over the years.

Yesterday, late afternoon, she got drunk in Marge's pub, the one he had hated her going to. Marge had called Ellie, at work.

Caroline had arrived two hours later, only just back home from school, to pick her up. Instead, they stayed, shared another bottle of red, and danced to 80s ballads night for an hour plus, Caroline holding her in a way that, only outwardly, was warranted by Gillian's inebriated state.

She doesn't remember getting home, into her pyjamas, into bed. Caroline won't mention it, and that's the kindest thing, the kindest of all partners. What a thing, to have Caroline by her side. The blackness is all-encompassing but Caroline asleep next to her takes its threat away.

Only when she wakes in daylight to an empty bed she acknowledges that she must have fallen back asleep. She gulps down the glass of water and pills that have been left on her bedside table, quietly sneaks downstairs and out of the door, past Caroline busying herself with preparing breakfast.

The cool, new April air embraces her as she slowly walks a few steps away from the house, stops, inhales with closed eyes, opens them, surveys the dale before her.

She doesn't notice the passing of time, until the door opens, and familiar footsteps come closer. Two arms slowly circle her stomach and settle down on her waist, and a now long familiar body presses against her back. She's not cold any more where Caroline leans into her.

The wind whispers into the ground, Caroline into her hair, and on the huge landscape of the dale they are insignificant, small figures, yet firmly grounded to the earth. The fringe of Caroline's scarf tickles Gillian's neck, crawls into her face. The sky is a vast dome above them, the lavish, fleeting, arrangement of clouds demanding reverence, but Gillian only adores this moment, herself, and the woman holding her.

'I've made scrambled eggs. Feel like eating something?'

'Thanks', Gillian states, holding her close, looking ahead. Basking in the warmth.

'You're welcome.', Caroline replies, amused—but she also gets it.

Caroline comes through the door to the sound of tableware breaking.

'Gillian?'

She'd come over to Gillian's for a night in, dooming Greg instead of herself to Flora's blabbering about her inane new favourite YouTube channel for the rest of the day.

In front of Gillian, there are cardboard boxes covered in a fine lining of dust. One's opened, and Gillian's taking out a plate and smashes it. Deliberately, it seems.

One after another, factory-fresh, pure white plates, edges adorned with a modest floral pattern.

For a dangerous split second they look at each other.

'What the hell are you doing.' Caroline gingerly steps closer, avoiding shards.

'Spring cleaning.'

'What?'

'They were a wedding present. From the first one.'

'All right, but—'

'He'd picked them.' She grabs another plate—a soup dish—and lets it fall to the floor. Flippantly. Outrageously.

'Wasn't even allowed to use them.'

She hands one to Caroline, takes another one out of the box. Drops it, right in front of her. It's becoming a right mess, there, on the kitchen floor. The noise is also very satisfying.

A laugh bubbles out of Caroline until she stops herself, holds Gillian's hands down.

'Gillian, for God's sake stop it, and we'll tidy all this up right now.'

'But we're not done yet.', Gillian says, smiling, gently freeing herself, wiping fat dust bunnies off the top of another box and opening it, taking out cups and saucers.

When Raff comes in an hour later, it's to suspicious mad laughter and a battle site in the kitchen.

'What the hell are you doing?'—he winces, shouts, his besocked foot having fallen victim to a shard—'Have you finally lost it?'

Gillian and Caroline freeze and go quiet, but before Gillian's able to mutter an explanation, Caroline pinches her ass and makes her yelp, and both of them dissolve into giggles again.

'Absolute madhouse, this is.' Raff throws his hands in the air, rolls his eyes, dramatically, dissolves into a stream of expletives himself.

Laughter follows him up the stairs as he leaves the room, shaking his head.

Gillian has long replaced the succession of awkward wedding photos on the mantelpiece with pictures of her and Caroline—one of them at Raff's reception, Flora and Calamity at their side, competing with them for most brilliant smile. Two are from their Barcelona holiday—one's Gillian at Tibidabo in a roller coaster car with the girls, calm and smiling at Caroline behind the lens. The one next to it is of herself—Caroline remembers Gillian talking her into taking her picture at the beach—the same curious wonder in her face as Gillian's had in hers, back then.

And, at the corner, in a wooden frame glued together by the kids, resides a snapshot of them sat on the couch together, both asleep and Caroline's head on Gillian's shoulder. Calamity had just gotten her own mobile.

Caz has long given up on trying to keep this and other surfaces of the farm as spotless as her own house. She imagines it is lacking tidiness today, anyway, under Lawrence's and Angus's sole rule. Reluctantly, she'd given her younger son free reign over the house for his birthday, to which he, to no surprise of Caroline's, had only invited Angus to, presumably, further their stellar careers as internet influencers—or for other reasons, as Gillian may have had suggested once. And had shocked Caroline, of all people, who remained of the conviction there is only ever one family gay, a position already proudly filled by yours truly.

Lawrence, squeaking through her phone speakers, at this very moment tries to reassure her that everything is under control, but Caroline hears a bump, and a crash, and winces, then Angus is cursing, tinnily but inappropriately in the background, so Gillian pats her arm and pours her another generous fill of wine.

'Don't worry about it, we'll have our own little party,' she says, though Caroline doesn't look very convinced. 'I'll help you tidy up tomorrow.'

She lets one wool sock-clad foot wander up Caroline's calf just as, fortunately, Lawrence rings off, and Caz drops the phone onto the couch. Live and let live.

'Remember you got insurance', Gillian breathes, and it's the sexiest thing ever.

Caroline has a sip of her wine, delicately puts down the glass, and pulls Gillian towards her.

#alternate universe: utopical world without covid #also what is a timeline please don't look at it closely #eva posts fic #at last #caroline x gillian #last tango in halifax

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taking-an-apple · 5 years

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#last tango in halifax #caroline mckenzie dawson #Gillian Greenwood #caroline x gillian #been a long time since I've written anything #both surprised #and not surprised #that it was these two #that sparked inspiration

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chainofclovers · 5 years

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Caroline/Gillian fic rec

A lovely anonymous person posted a really wonderful li’l Caroline/Gillian comment fic in response to a prompt over on @dollsome-does-tumblr‘s fabulous comment ficathon over on Dreamwidth. Would highly recommend any Last Tango in Halifax fans hop over to enjoy!

And maybe stay to have a bit of ficathon fun!

#last tango in halifax #ltih #fic rec #caroline x gillian

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riversofmars · 3 years

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For Day 29, my last Gillian/Caroline piece, hope you enjoyed all the stories I did for them this month! <3

Prompt: All word, no play | overworked

Fandom: Last Tango in Halifax

Characters: Gillian Greenwood/Caroline McKenzie-Dawson

Rating: G

Summary: Gillian worries when Caroline is the only one not to turn up to Sunday dinner. Despite everyone's assurances that she's probably just forgotten the time, Gillian decides to drive over to her house.

All Work, No Play

“Alright, that’s it, I’m going over,“ Gillian decided and got up from the table.

“I’m sure it’s alright, love…“ Alan protested but the sheep farmer wouldn’t hear about it. She grabbed her phone and car keys.

“It’s just not like her, is it?“ She explained. “We’re all here for Sunday dinner, Flora is here after her sleepover with Calamity, it’s not like Caroline would forget about her own daughter and she’s not picking up her phone.“ She punched in Caroline’s number one last time for good measure but again, the call went straight to voicemail.

“Well, we can always take Flora over there on our way home later,“ Celia volunteered but Gillian shook her head.

“No, no, you stay here wi’ kids, they’re playing nicely, I’m going over there. What if something has happened?“

“I think it’s far more likely she’s wrapped up in work and forgot the time…“ Celia carried on but by this point, Gillian was already out of the door.

The drive over to Caroline’s new house was not nearly as long as going back and forth to Harrogate had been and Gillian put her foot down. It wasn’t like Caroline at all to forget about Sunday dinner and not answer her phone. She must have turned it off or run out of battery or be somewhere where she didn’t have any signal. She could only hope it wasn’t the latter, or she would have no chance of finding her.

Gillian gave a sigh of relief when she pulled up at her step-sister’s and spotted the Jag in the drive.

“Caroline? Open up, it’s Gillian!“ She called, banging on the door. “Caroline?“

Fortunately, Gillian was in possession of a spare set of keys for emergencies and she decided this constituted one.

The light was on in the kitchen, which was another good sign. Unless Caroline had gone out on foot, she should be here.

“Caroline?“ Gillian called again but there was no answer. Caroline wasn’t in the kitchen or the living room so the sheep farmer ventured deeper into the house. The bedroom was empty too - Gillian was so worried by this point that she didn’t stop to think if Caroline would mind her just walking into her bedroom.

“CAROLINE!“ She exclaimed when she finally found her, collapsed on the desk in her study. Gillian rushed over to her, all sorts of terrifying thoughts crossing her mind as the other woman wasn’t moving. She wrapped her arms around her shoulders and pulled her up and Caroline awoke with a start.

“Oh my God, Gillian?“ The headteacher was disoriented, she pressed her hand to her chest where her heart was hammering furiously, she had given her a terrible fright. The experience was mutual.

“I thought you’d had a bloody heart attack!“ Gillian exclaimed as she stepped back, taking a couple of deep breaths to regain control of herself. She ran her hand through her hair and started laughing. What a relief, she had just been asleep.

“I’m not that old yet…“ Caroline huffed, rubbing her face with a deep sigh on her lips.

“Well…“ Gillian grinned.

“Fuck off…“ Caroline groaned and waved her hand to slap her arm but Gillian was quick to step out of reach. “I’m just… exhausted…“ the headteacher mumbled, running her fingers through her hair. She buried her face in her hands so she wouldn’t be left looking at the pulsating cursor against the white of a still blank document on her computer screen. She had fallen asleep over her work, her resources spread out around her and nothing to show for it.

“You’ve been working too hard,“ Gillian observed as she took in the scene.

“There’s just so much to do. I knew it wouldn’t be easy but…“ Caroline drew a shaky breath. “I think I’m in over my head. And I can’t fail, not after everything, I’ve got to show them I can do this and… and…“ She shook her head to herself, her voice strained and heavy and so unlike the always-confident and always-in-control Dr. Caroline McKenzie-Dawson Gillian knew.

“Take a breath, okay, you’re okay,“ Gillian said softly and placed her hand on the headteacher’s shoulder. The tender gesture was obviously too much in Caroline’s fragile state and she gave a strangled sob.

“I’m not okay, Gillian, I’m really not okay,“ she whispered, as desperate tears blurred her bright blue eyes.

“Maybe not but you will be,“ Gillian hummed gently and reached out to close the books in front of her step-sister. “Here, put these away…“

“I’ve got to finish that, it’s Monday tomorrow, I…“ Caroline started to protest, shooing her hands away but the sheep farmer wasn’t so easily put off.

“Just for a little while, Caroline, please, trust me. I drove all the way over here, I expect at least a cup of tea,“ she insisted and tugged at Caroline’s chair, prompting her to get up.

“Right, okay, yeah, of course, I…“ It was as if Caroline only just remembered that this was her house and there were certain rules to hosting. It was a clear testament to her frame of mind. Under normal circumstances, Caroline would never have failed to offer tea. She got to her feet and stumbled. Gillian was at her side to catch her.

“Steady on,“ the sheep farmer pulled her into a hug and rubbed her back comfortingly. “You know what, maybe we’ll skip tea, bedroom instead?“

“Well, that’s a bit forward, Gillian, don’t you think?“ Caroline managed a weak joke as she rested her head on her shoulder for a brief moment of comfort. “You haven’t even bought me dinner yet.“

“If anyone is buying anyone dinner, it’s you,“ Gillian declared, chuckling. “I’m free next Saturday, you can take me out to say thank you for hurling your arse to bed.“ She pulled away from the hug once she was sure that Caroline was steady on her feet and walked her to the door.

“I’ve got work to do next weekend, I need all the time I can get, I…“ Caroline started protesting but Gillian wouldn’t hear of it.

“No, Caroline, you don’t. What you need to do is to look after yourself,“ she insisted as they made their way to the bedroom. “You’re not helping anyone if you run yourself into the ground.“ Her voice was stern and left no room for protest. Nevertheless, she was surprised when Caroline just nodded when she sat her down on the bed.

“Right…“ the headteacher sighed.

“Now, you just lie down, sleeping at your desk is only gonna do your back in and then what are you gonna do?“ Gillian eased her down and pulled the duvet back. “I’ll have to move in here next to help you round the place and neither one of us wants that,“ she carried on and was pleased when Caroline chuckled at the very idea. “I’ll go and make tea, you stay here. Sleep if you want, don’t keep yourself awake on my account.“ Gillian straightened herself up with a satisfied nod once Caroline was tucked up in bed. She turned to leave but the headteacher grabbed her arm.

“Gillian, don’t go,“ she said softly and pulled her back.

“Right, okay…“ Gillian perched on the side of the bed, and watched curiously as Caroline moved her hand down from her arm to intertwine with her fingers instead.

“I… I genuinely don’t know if I can do this…“ Caroline whispered softly and looked up to her. She looked worn out, exhausted and weak and it broke Gillian’s heart.

“Now that’s just stupid…“ Gillian shook her head and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. She leaned over her and brushed back her silky blonde hair with her free hand. “You’re Dr. Caroline McKenzie-Dawson. You can do anything.“ The sheep farmer smiled, stroking her thumb along her cheek that was damp with tears of exhaustion.

“You really think so?“ Caroline mumbled and Gillian smiled:

“I know so,“ she stated. “Besides you’ve got nothing to prove.“ She sat herself up again and moved back, until she was sat against the headboard. She continued to hold on to Caroline’s hand while the headteacher shuffled over a little to make more room for her.

“That’s where you’re wrong. I have to prove that I’m still a capable headteacher after they fired me,“ Caroline mused, rolling onto her side so she could look up at Gillian more easily.

“They didn’t fire you, you left voluntarily…“ the sheep farmer interjected.

“Before they could fire me…“ Caroline held firm. “And besides, I’m nearly 50 and I’ve got a pre-schooler. I have to stand there with all the young mothers proving that I’m still as enthusiastic and energetic as them, when really, I’m just so bloody tired and…“

“Fuck ‘em,“ Gillian huffed. “You’ve raised two kids already, they’ve got all that to come and you and I both know what a pain teenagers can be, you just wait, they’ll get their just dessert…“ She stroked the back of her hand absentmindedly.

“And I want to have something for myself too, again, at some point… I’m so… lonely with all this…“ Caroline confessed, completive, as she acknowledged how nice it felt to have her hand held like this.

“What about Olga?“ Gillian suggested and the headteacher huffed:

“It’s not just the sex, Gillian, I want to, one day, be able to share my life with someone again and who would take all this on?“ She drew a deep breath. “An overworked headteacher that’s about to hit menopause with a school age child! That package is bound to scare anyone off.“

“Doesn’t scare me.“ Gillian shrugged and Caroline chuckled:

“Yeah, well, that’s 'cause you’re an idiot.“

“Maybe that’s what you need. Maybe you need an idiot that will put up with all your shit and cares for you anyway,“ the sheep farmer retorted. “Someone who’s gonna put you to bed when you’ve overdone it. Someone who’s gonna mind Flora when you’re working. Someone that you don’t have to prove anything to.“

Caroline looked up to Gillian as if she had only just noticed her sitting there. She reached out with her free hand, placed it at the base of Gillian’s neck that she could just about reach, and pulled her down. The sheep farmer yelped in surprise but didn’t protest when she landed on top of Caroline. There was a moment of stillness as both women seemed to contemplate the best way forward. It was Gillian who took the plunge. She leaned down and placed a loving, soft kiss on Caroline’s lips.

“Gillian…“ the headteacher whispered, looking up at her in awe.

“You need to sleep, you’re becoming delirious,“ the sheep farmer grinned and pushed herself up, pleased with the effect she seemed to have on the other woman.

“Will you stay?“ Caroline asked in a small voice, her hand wrapping around her arm.

“Well, someone has to make sure you don’t succumb to your self-inflicted wounds…“ Gillian sighed theatrically and kicked off her shoes so she could get into bed properly. “Might as well be the dopey sheep farmer from round the corner, eh?“ She wrapped her arms around Caroline who hummed in exhausted agreement:

“Now, that would be defying expectations…“

“Wouldn’t it just,“ Gillian chuckled and placed a loving kiss between her shoulder blades, just to find the headteacher had already fallen asleep.

#Whumptober2021 #no.29 #overworked #last tango in halifax #fanfiction #gillian greenwood #caroline mckenzie dawson #caroline x gillian #fluff #whump lite

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