#and yes my brain is indeed running daydreams about it every waking minute

[redfoxwritesstuff]

Coffee and a Wedding (Chapter 6)

Hey, it’s Tuesday! And this week you get a Coffee update. Be excited since this is the last one for three weeks while I’ve got oneshots slated to post. Hopefully this chapter is going to make up for missing it last week and the next three weeks. Just remember I love you all! 

Clint x ofc, rating M for sexual themes

Chapter Six

I didn’t even know this island had a proper club but Clint managed to find us one. There was no time to process what was happening when Clint ditched his tee for a royal purple button up shirt, again uncaring that he was dressing in front of me. Before I could even process the sight of his naked back and side, he was covered and dragging me out of the room all while trying to button up the shirt with one hand.  

It felt like my brain was still back in the hotel room as we made our way through the doors. It was packed inside and the music was loud, thumping in the air. People moved, swayed and bounced to the music as if powered by the thud of the bass. It was intoxicating all on it’s own.  

“Come on!” Clint shouted over the noise, grabbing my hand and pulling me toward the bar. It was quieter at the bar but not by much. I couldn’t even make out what he had ordered for us before he was shoving a pink shot in my hand, complete with a thin slice of apple on the rim.  

“What’s this?” I had to lean so close to him to make myself heard that I could smell his cologne.

“Washington Apple. Good.” He yelled as if it answered anything and I downed the shot.

“Lexis?” A voice called out, hardly heard over the thump of the music. The source of the voice found me before I could find them. I was wrapped up in a hug from Lauren, one of Sarah’s oldest friends.

“Lauren!” I had to shout but the shot mixed with the wine from earlier to make me care a little less. “I didn’t see you at the party earlier.”

“Sip n’ paint isn’t really my jam.” Lauren laughed in the too loud way that was so unique to her. “Honestly, that group isn’t much my scene anyway.”

“I feel you. It was surreal, all the expensive clothes and shoes and hair!” It felt so good to be around someone who wasn’t a part of what appeared to be the wealthy life Sarah was joining. “This is my boyfriend, Clint Barton.” I patted his chest with warm affection that I wasn’t sure was fake. “Clint, this is Lauren- Sarah and I grew up with her.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Clint shook Lauren’s hand and pulled her to him for a quick hug.

With Lauren here, I had no reason to resist the urges I had to touch Clint and he seemed to accept the attention eagerly. His hand was always at my side, on my back or pushing my hair behind my ear.  

The second drink was soon replaced by the third and Marci somehow joined the dance floor. It became a personal attack that I’m rather sure no one else was aware of when she raised an eyebrow at Clint and I.  

In response, I pulled him on the dance floor and we bounced and rocked together to the beat of the music. It was impulsive and I wasn’t thinking. If I was, I could blame it on wanting to make sure there was no doubt of our relationship in Marci’s eyes.  

In truth however, when I leaned in and pressed my lips to his, it was for no reason beyond because that was what I wanted to do. There was a moment when he hesitated, stiffened up and I was scared that he would push me away. We hadn’t talked about how far this act would go, affection wise.  

There was a moment when it all changed. Clint let a sigh slip and relaxed into the kiss. It was sweet and chaste. Unfortunately, it was over before I wanted.   

“Another drink?” His voice was rough. He swallowed twice before nodding to himself and walking off before I could even pull myself into answering. For the record, yes- I did indeed want another drink. Or ten.  

I really, really needed a drink. I mean, I knew why I kissed him but still, the act of doing it left me light headed and begging for more. What hurt was that I knew why he kissed me back.  

And it wasn’t for the same reason I kissed him. Not even a little bit, I’m sure. And that fucking stung. It felt like a knife to my heart knowing it.  

He kissed me back because we’re playing a game of pretend. He kissed me back because we were being watched. He kissed me back to sell the story. And that was all. Nothing more.

What does one do when they are forced to pretend that they are totally faking the ‘fake’ dating part of the relationship? They take another shot. Then another. And eventually, you stop giving two shits what’s real and what’s fake. I know I did.  

I lost sight of Lauren or Marci but it didn’t matter at that point. This was a once in a lifetime chance to live my daydreams so I was going to do exactly that. The music thumped and we danced, wrapped up into each other. Each drink brought us closer. Each drink made me braver.  

At one point I didn’t care and I was grinding against him. His hands were heavy on my hips and I could feel how he reacted to my movements. He was stiff in what had to be uncomfortably tight jeans. I didn’t shy away from imagining what was hidden away from me. Sometimes, when I moved against him just right, a moan would slip out from his lips and knowing that I was the cause was the most powerful feeling in the world.  

I hooked my arms up around his neck. Still, when he spun me around to face him, I went willingly enough. I could smell the whiskey we had begun drinking on his breath and it made me want to taste his lips again all the more.  

So I did. It was sloppy and drunk but he responded. As we danced, he backed me into a table sending unmanned drinks spilling. I didn’t care. I didn’t care about anything at the moment other than his lips on me and the way he rocked his hips into me.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, babe.” He growled in my ear and somewhere, in the back of my mind I was reminded that it indeed was a game to him. Only a show. It was an unwelcome realization that washed over me like a bucket of ice water.  

“We should get back to the hotel.” The hint of invitation was missing from my voice. “It’s late and I’m tired.”

“Right.” I hated how his back stiffened. Had I misjudged? No, not likely. I was so sure that he was returning to his natural state, putting the act away. The game was coming to an end for the night.  

~~~~~<3 I didn’t remember getting back to the hotel, come morning. Or I suppose it was rather more accurate to say come mid afternoon. We’d made it back from the club in one piece and but changing hadn’t been high on our agenda, judging from the state of our clothes.  

I’d managed to shimmy out of my jeans at some point and Clint had tossed his shirt and belt but overall, no real attempts to change into pajamas had been made.  

Waking up next to a shirtless Clint while I myself was wearing only my blouse and panties would have been jarring if not for the constant pounding in my head. I needed to get up, drink an ocean’s worth of water and brush that foul taste out of my mouth but none of that sounded like something worth getting up to do.

“You awake?” Clint’s voice was full of gravel and heavy with sleep. I don’t think he’d ever sounded sexier and I was honestly rather amazed my brain could even go there at this point.  

“Something like that.” I grumbled, hardly above a whisper.  

“Sounds like you feel like shit.” He laughed halfheartedly and I wanted to smack him for it but couldn’t get up the strength. “Glad it’s not just me.”

“What time is it?”  

“Something like noon.” There was shifting and Clint sat up slowly, carefully cradling his head in the process. “Guess that was last time I woke up. Clock says two thirty.”  

“Jesus.”  

“I don’t think Jesus has any mercy for us today. But room service will. I’m ordering the whole fucking breakfast menu.”

“How can you think of food? The idea is nauseating.”  

“Trust me, when it gets here you’ll want the greasy goodness.” He hesitated for a moment. “And I’m always thinking about food. At least, when I’m not thinking about coffee.”

“Coffee.” I moaned.  

“Water first. Coffee second. You’ll feel better that way, trust me.”

“Wish it was your coffee.” I rolled pathetically toward the edge of the bed as Clint slowly stood. We were moving like we were fifty years older and to be fair, we both felt like that was the case. “Yours is better.”

“Keep whispering sweet nothings, babe.” I didn’t have it in me to worry about why he called me ‘babe’.

~~~~~<3  

It took water, Aspirin, greasy food that would kill a weaker heart and long showers but by dinner the both of us were resembling human. That was good news for Clint. The bachelor party due to start in thirty minutes with the group of gentleman meeting in the hotel lobby.

“What are they planning, anyway?” I asked, spread out on the bed and surrounded by piles of text books, papers, notebooks, pens and highlighters. Clint was in the bathroom, finishing shaving after his second shower of the day. Something about trying to wash away the hangover.  

“A tour of a brewery followed by a whiskey tasting and board games.” There was the sound of running water before a fresh faced Clint emerged from the bathroom without a shirt. I was getting oddly used to seeing his naked upper body.  That's not to say it wasn't still hard to avoid drooling every time, at least the shock was starting to wear off. “Did a university classroom explode on our bed?”  

“First- it’s part of being a student. Second- that sounds almost as boring as a sip ‘n paint.”

“Yep. Good thing we had all the excitement last night. I could use a boring night, being the old man I am.” I snorted at his comment. From what I could at least remember of last night, he didn’t dance like an old man at all.  

“How’s this shirt?” Clint slipped on a smooth black button up and made quick work of the buttons. It fit him nicely, hugging muscles tightly enough to hint at them.  

“Looks hot.” Good god, did I say that? “It’s a shame there won’t be any strippers for you to tempt.” Wow, with my brain on my studies for a change I was finding it easy to sass him. It was a hint of what we had when working together in the cafe. It was so much more intimate, being behind the closed doors of a hotel room and with blatant sexual undertones. It would have killed me before.  

“Hey, can’t be tempting strippers when I’ve got a lovely girlfriend waiting for me back here?”  

“Fake Girlfriend.” It almost looked like he deflated at my clarification. But that couldn’t be right. It’s not like that would matter. It’s not like he would ever actually date me. It’s not like he would ever actually care in that way.  

“Right. Fake.” He nodded and it was like a switch flipped and that thing I thought I had saw was gone. Perhaps it was a figment of my imagination all along. “I’ve got to get going. Don’t worry about waiting up.”

~~~~~<3

I really, really didn’t want to go to this party. Back in the day, Stark had more exciting events in honor of surviving the work day. Regardless, it would do me some good to get some space, to get away from Alexis for a bit.  

She made my mind go haywire. She’d always had that ability, in truth but I had spent so long trying to ignore it. I had tried to ignore how I’d looked forward to opening the shop a bit more on the mornings I had scheduled her to work. I tried to ignore the way it made me feel when she smiled at me.  

And now I had to ignore how damn hard it was to pretend that I was just pretending.  

“Son of a-” My foot slipped out from under me, thumping down three stairs before catching on the fourth. It should have been enough to let me get my feet under me again but my other foot caught on a stair and gravity did the rest. Near the bottom I was able to catch the railing. Somehow, once again, I had managed to avoid breaking any bones.  

Now, you may be asking yourself why I’m going down the stairs. It would be a valid question. You see, there was a this toddler in line for the elevator and I’m honestly not sure what he was covered in. It was sticky and smelled sour.  

I didn’t want that on my good jeans or my shirt.

You also could be asking yourself why I’m talking to myself as if there are other people listening. For that, I’ve got no valid excuses. Sorry.

Regardless of how I got there, I managed to not be the last one in the lobby. This is a point of pride for me. Don’t ask why but I can get up and open shop at the ass crack of dawn but being on time to pretty much anything else was asking a lot. Like, a lot, a lot.  Hands were shaken and names exchanged in the airy lobby with too much tropical decoration. I resisted the urge to point out that I wasn't the last one to arrive. 

“Gentlemen.” Matt stood tall and proud in a pressed suit that likely matched the price tag on some of Stark’s cheaper ones. It would be far outside of my typical budget, if not for the side work I still did at Stark’s request but I'm sure Matt thought he was showing everyone up. Such a child. “Let’s get some beers.”

Turns out the tour of the brewery was about as exciting as I had expected it to be. The highlight was the beer. If not for the lack of caffeine, I could very much see myself running a brewery rather than a cafe.  

I wondered if I could do both? Or a caffeinated beer? I’m pretty sure I’d read at some point it was bad to mix caffeine and alcohol but also it was something I’d been doing my whole life. How bad could it be?

“So, Barton- that watch, Rolex?” Ugh, why can’t I be left to my beers in peace? Though I guess it made sense, we’d be moving out to the whiskey room soon and board games. I swear to god.

“Yeah. A few years old but it’s a trusty time piece.” Go away. Go away. Go away. It’s not like you don’t have a newer one on your wrist mister Rich-Name-I-Couldn’t-Bother-To-Remember.

“How do you manage to afford that on a barista salary?” Matt joined us as he motioned for the group of men to move on to the whiskey room. Yay.  

“I own the cafe- that’s hardly a ‘barista salary’.” Bitterness may have slipped into my voice that time. “And I used to work for Stark Industries in Tech Security, if you must know.”

“Ohhh.” I didn’t like the sound of that. “So, is that why Alexis gives you time of day? She’s hot and trying to secure herself a sugar daddy after all.”  

Is homicide still illegal on this island? Does Stark have any lawyers on retainer that would be big enough to get me off on one or two murder charges? Could I afford to break out of jail and move to a island without a extradition treaty?

“That’s not what our relationship is about. I’ve never once talked to Stark about her or given her money beyond her earned wages. I am not nor have I ever been her or anyone else’ sugar daddy. As far as I’m aware, she’s never been anyone else’ sugar baby.” The only thing that kept me from hauling off and decking his ass was the fact that Alexis would probably not like that. But god would I like to.  

The trip from the brewery to the whiskey room was short and that was the only thing that kept me from hauling off and punching someone. Before we were let inside, Matt felt the need to stand in front of the group, arms spread wide and I really, really wanted to knock him down. It was so fucking tempting, you have no idea. He thought he was some grand shit with all his daddy’s money and investment income.  

Wonder what he would think if I told him my bank account was bigger than his?

“Gentlemen.” Here we go again. I hadn’t had enough beers for this. “I billed this night as tame, as a classy event for gentlemen. And many of us know how those events go. Now, in the true tradition of gentleman's clubs, those of you who choose to move forward for the rest of this night will be doing so under sworn secrecy. Our wives, our girlfriends, our family shall not know of the events that shall transpire today.”

Who the hell did he think he was? Did no one ever tell him the reason we know so much about the underground gentleman's clubs was because people in general, suck at keeping secrets? 

“On that note, let the real party begin.”

~~~~~<3

Tag List (Coffee): @winterisakiller, @theheartofpenelope, @ruebx, @hufflepuff25, @0-0-0-0-0-0-0-7, @theoneanna, @bradfordbantams, @toozmanykids, @alexakeyloveloki, @j-u-s-t-4, @missaphrodite23, @bambamwolf87, @nonsensicalobsessions, @tinchentitri, @xoxabs88xox, @queenoftheunderdark, @myoxisbroken, @wegingerangelica

[blueboxesandtrafficcones]

The Nuptial Necessity - Chapter 7

A 12xRose Human AU

Despite an unglamorous job description, Rose loves the work she does with The Thistle Foundation, a charity founded by her best friend’s great-uncle.  It doesn’t hurt that her boss, her friend’s father, is easy on the eyes.  With a great job, wonderful friends and a loving family, life couldn’t be better – except for having someone to share it with.

All of that is threatened, though, when the great-uncle dies – and sets a strange condition for his nephew to inherit, jeopardizing the Foundation and Rose’s future, sparking a chain of events that might just get her everything she dreamed of and more.

Chapters will be posted on Saturdays and Tuesdays.  Many thanks to my beta, @stupidsatsuma

Rated: Explicit, for eventual smut

@doctorroseprompts

AO3  |  Masterlist

—

Sunday

Turning her car off, Rose leaned back against the headrest and closed her eyes, breathing deeply in preparation.  Things in the office had only grown more awkward and tense as they danced around each other, the uncomfortableness spilling over into her relationship with Clara, which only made her feel worse.

It’s a yes or no question, she reminded herself once again.  Just make a decision and stick to it – put all of us out of our misery, so the weirdness can stop and we can start making our plans.

The sound of another engine made her eyes open, and she climbed out as Malcolm pulled in next to her.  Locking her car she waited while he, Clara, and Danny emerged, mustering a wan smile for them all.  “Hey.”

“Hi.”  Malcolm nodded, grabbing a bottle from the backseat as Clara gave her a hug.

“Hey,” her bestie whispered in her ear, “how are you?”

Rose shrugged, holding her a little tighter.  “In knots,” she said honestly. “I still don’t know what to do.”

“There you are,” her father called, and they all turned to find him at the front door.  “C’mon in.”

They followed him through the house and out onto the patio, where everything was set up.  Tony was playing in the shallow end of the pool under their mother’s watchful eye from a nearby lounge chair, while the grill was ready to go off to the side.  Two long tables groaned under the food already out, with a few designated spaces for what Rose and the Tuckers had brought. Rose’s contribution was a bottle of white wine and a baked mac’n’cheese recipe Tony loved, while Malcolm had brought the whisky, Clara some cut up fruit, and Danny the brownies.

“Looks great, Mum,” Rose greeted Jackie, hugging her.

“Thanks, sweetheart.  Oi, Tony, out of the water!”  Releasing her eldest she turned to Clara, greeting her in much the same way.  “So nice to have all of you here, come, put your things down.”

“Thanks for having us, Mr. and Mrs. Tyler,” Danny said politely, making Pete chuckle and wave his hand.

“Very pleased to have you join us.  Really.  And it’s Pete and Jackie – I insist.”

As everyone greeted each other and began chatting, Rose smiled and watched.

This is my family.

-

Standing next to the grill on a warm, sunny day, holding a beer, was pretty much exactly Malcolm’s ideal way to spend an afternoon.  His daughter sat nearby, the occasional tinkle of her laughter music to his ears as she talked to Danny and Jackie, but in truth, nearly all of his attention was on Rose.

She’d changed into a swimsuit, a one-piece that was fairly modest for what it was, and was in the shallow end splashing with her brother.  It didn’t take his imagination much effort to picture her in the pool at the townhouse – in fact, it was too easy to see her with a toddler of their own, teaching their son (or daughter, he wasn’t picky) how to swim.

In fact, he didn’t just want it; he craved it, ached for it, sometimes dreamed of it so vividly he would wake reaching for her, expecting her next to him, confused and heartbroken when she wasn’t there until reality seeped back in.

Sometimes he didn’t want to wake up.

“Oi.”

A nudge startled Malcolm from his daydream, and he turned Pete, blinking in surprise.  “What?”

“D’you mind not ogling my daughter right in front of me while we’re trying to have a conversation?  When you’re not glaring at Danny for doing just the same, that is.”

His jaw dropped, trying to come with an answer.  “I wasn’t- that’s not- I-”

After a moment Pete laughed, waving a hand.  “Relax, I’m just messing with you,” his friend said easily.  “How are plans for the Gala going?”

Malcolm just blinked, trying to reboot his brain and cursing his overactive imagination.  It had been one thing, when his dreams were just that, but the intrusion into his waking life was bound to get him in trouble sooner or later.

And, strictly speaking, he hadn’t been ogling Rose.  Yes, okay, he might have been staring in her general direction, but he wasn’t picturing her naked – it’s early yet; how long is she going to stay in the pool? – though somehow he didn’t think Pete would appreciate what he was thinking any more than what he assumed.

Did he ask a question?

“The Gala’s going fine,” he finally answered, taking a long pull off his bottle and turning his back firmly on his assistant to focus on her father.  Her FATHER.  If Danny were looking at Clara the way I am Rose, I’d thump him – and he’s neither too old for her or a friend of mine, both of which I am.  Pull your shit together, Tucker.  “Rose is, of course, an incredible help.  No surprise she’s what makes the event what it is.”

“I would expect nothing less.”  Pete was still smirking, though, a look Malcolm didn’t appreciate.  “My daughter’s one of a kind.”

“That she is.”  Casting about for a change of subject, he asked, “Tony’s starting school this year, isn’t he?”

The other man didn’t seem fooled in the least, but went along with it.  “Reception.  Hard to believe.  Honestly, I’m not looking forward to his school years.  Well, the other parents, really. When Rosie was little we got looked down on for being so young, and I’m sure now we’ll be judged for being too old.  I don’t particularly care myself, but Jacks has been going on about it all summer and nothing’s even happened yet.”

“I know that feeling,” Malcolm agreed, smiling at the memory of Clara’s first day of school.  “It was the same for us – always judged and excluded for our ages.  Not that Missy or I particularly cared, but they tended to treat Clara as a pariah as well, and you can imagine how well I took that.  How do you judge a child for their parents’ decisions?  Unbelievable. Thankfully things were better once we moved to London, but still.  Judgemental pricks.”

They toasted, draining their bottles as one, and Malcolm didn’t hesitate to take the empties and exchange them for new, easily removing the lids.

“To tell the truth, I’m just glad to have the second chance,” Pete murmured, eyes flickering over to his wife to ensure she couldn’t hear.  “We’d long accepted she would be it when he came along, but I’m so glad he did.  I think I did well with Rose, but this time around I can really appreciate it, you know?  I was so focused when she was young on Vitex, on getting us out of the Estate that I missed things.”

Malcolm hummed but didn’t respond; they’d covered all of this before, and he knew his friend sometimes just felt the need to ‘speak it to the universe’, to quote Jackie.

“D’you think you’ll ever have another?”

Startled, Malcolm choked on his beer, going into a coughing fit that lasted long enough for Rose and Clara to shout in unison, “Stop it!”

“Your concern is overwhelming,” he wheezed, making his daughter roll her eyes and earning himself a rude gesture from Rose.  “I’m fine, thanks.”

When he straightened up Pete was waiting patiently with a napkin, arching an eyebrow when he took it.  “Not sure that qualifies as an answer.”

Wiping his mouth, Malcolm bought himself a few seconds to think before sighing.  “In theory, yes, I’d like another.  But practically… it just doesn’t seem to be in the cards.  And I don’t think Clara would take it with the grace that Rose did.”  He smiled wryly, remembering her reaction to the announcement – it had been at a Sunday dinner so similar to this one, and she had been so overwhelmed with joy that she was still bouncing off the walls the next day in the office, right up until they’d been mid-conversation and her face had contorted in horror.

“What’s wrong?”

Rose stared at him, gagging slightly.  “I just realized that if this baby was unplanned, my parents are having more sex than I am, and I’m the one in my mid-twenties.”

The memory made him chuckle, as had how she would periodically break out in full-body shivers every so often during the months of her mother’s pregnancy.  “She loved him from the first moment.”

“She did take it well,” Pete agreed, “and she’s such a help.  There’s nothing like a reliable, free childminder you can trust without hesitation.  She’ll be a spectacular Mum, when the time comes.”

Malcolm wholeheartedly agreed, but decided a neutral mhmm was the safer response, lest he let slip the secrets buried deep in his heart.  Things are weird enough right now, no need to make it worse.  Still, he couldn’t help but turn enough that he could watch Rose out of the corner of his eye.

A spectacular Mum indeed.

-

“So-”

Rose’s eyes fluttered closed as she fought back a groan at her mother’s would-be casual tone, not fooled for a moment.  Despite her best efforts she’d gotten caught alone with her in the kitchen, and it had been two agonizing minutes of idle chit chat as Jackie built up to her favorite topic of conversation, as if Rose didn’t know where it was headed.

The same place it always is, lately.

“Are you seeing anyone?”

There it is.

“Yes, only he’s an alien, see, and off travelling the universe and saving alien planets, which is why I never bring ‘im around.”  She rolled her eyes, turning around to face her mother, unsurprised at the death glare she was receiving.  “You know I’m not.  It’s just been too busy lately.”

“But, Rose, you’ve been saying that for years.  It was one thing when you were young, but you’re thirty now.  You’re running out of time.”

“Oh my God.”  Wanting to physically run from the conversation she settled for the mature thing of picking up a platter of food and heading for the door.  “I am not having this conversation with you.  Is it really so hard to accept that I’m happy with my life?”

Not one to let anyone else have the last word Jackie followed hot on her heels with the other tray.  “How could you be!  No husband, no children… and while it might seem like it at the moment, a vibrator and your brother are not satisfying substitutes!”

Rose stopped dead, staring in dismay at the four horrified faces looking back at her.  Though she was still a few steps from the table and her mother behind her, they’d all clearly heard her, the whole fucking country probably had, and her eyes darted between them all gauging their reactions.  Her father was disgusted, poor Danny uncomfortable and now staring at his hands, Clara’s eyes were very wide and her jaw open, and Malcolm… Malcolm looked ready to bust a gut laughing, leaning forward on the table, and despite both hands clasped over his mouth, was unable to hide the smile in his twinkling eyes, and when their eyes met, he winked.

Her eyes darted to the pool and for one wild moment she seriously considered throwing herself into it before slowly spinning around.  “Shut.  Up.”

-

Malcolm stuffed a forkful of lettuce in his mouth, glancing idly around the silent table as almost everyone else ate.  While Jackie sat very stiffly across from him glaring at her daughter and not moving, Rose was on his left and bouncing her leg like her life depended on it as she looked everywhere but at Jackie.

For the third time in as many minutes her knee bumped the table, jostling it, and on instinct Malcolm settled his hand on it to calm her.  It worked almost too well as she froze, and their eyes met for only a moment before his gaze skittered away.  He thought about moving it, but rather than being tense at his touch she let out a deep breath and almost seemed to relax, and just because he’d always wanted to and couldn’t help himself, he slowly rubbed his thumb against the side of her knee.  It was as soft as he’d always imagined, smooth, and she didn’t seem to mind given she hadn’t swatted his hand away.  Did she just sigh?

“You know, there’s a nice young man working for your father,” Jackie started abruptly, Rose’s aggravation returning as quickly it had dissipated, based on how her leg tensed beneath his hand.

For fuck’s sake, doesn’t she ever stop?

The answer was no, apparently, as she continued to chatter, oblivious to their audience or her daughter’s humiliation.  “He’s looking for a girl to marry.  Maybe I should invite him to lunch next week.  Or!  Mickey says he’s got a friend you’d get on well with, you should ask him about that.  I know you think you’ve got all the time in the world, but really, it would take a least a year to plan the wedding, and thirty-two sounds young but you might be surprised how long it takes you to get pregnant, and your body won’t bounce back as quickly as you’d like- we can’t all be like those celebrities, back to looking like sticks six weeks after giving birth.  You know, this might be an idea- start planning your wedding now, you should book two years out anyway- then just find your groom along the way!  You can’t afford to lose any time, and really, by now all the decent men are probably married, if not in committed relationships.  The longer you wait the more likely you are to have an ex-wife to deal with, maybe even step-children, and God help you then.  And if there are, then the ex will probably be a total nightmare, ‘cause if she wasn’t they’d still be married, wouldn’t they?  And I don’t mean an annoyance like you complain about Missy, I mean a real pain in the ass.  Though you may get lucky and find a nice widower- come to think of it, maybe you should go to Tony’s school events once he starts, you might meet some single fathers-”

Doesn’t this woman ever breathe? Malcolm rolled his eyes, glancing over at Rose to see metaphorical steam coming out of her ears; the one time he’d screwed up badly enough to earn that stink eye himself it had been enough to scare him straight.  At least for a little while.

Even as he watched her he saw the final straw break her back, uncertain of what it was having tuned Jackie out, but nothing could have prepared him for how Rose interrupted her mother.

“Malcolm and I are getting married.”