Rhy'Din General Hospital
A few weeks ago...
"Desmond!" Miranda squealed in a very girlish tone of voice as she flung her arms around her nephew's neck. He wasn't really her nephew, more like a cousin a gazillion times removed, but she'd always thought of him as a nephew, or even as an adopted son, despite the fact that he had never even once referred to her by anything but her first name. "You're alive!" she continued, with a joyful grin on her face.
"Miran, you're smothering me," Desmond complained, as he tried to untangle himself from the woman's embrace, despite the chuckle. A couple of months ago, few would have cared if he'd lived or died, but in good part because of Miranda, all that had suddenly and unexpectedly changed. "Of course, I'm alive, you silly woman. Do you think I'm a ghost?"
"No! I was just worried. We all were," she admitted with a small frown, pulling away from him just far enough to look him over. She wasn't the only one who'd been afraid they'd nearly lost him.
Des arched a brow, not bothering to ask who the word "we" encompassed exactly. It went without saying that Piper and Lyneth had been worried. If it hadn't been for them, he might not have made it. Miranda was obviously another. But who else? His brother Jon maybe. Kaylee" Correy' Humphrey and Caroline, more than likely. Other than that, he wasn't so sure. He hadn't gotten particularly close to anyone yet, and the family was a large one.
To think that a few months ago, there had been no one, and now his family numbered in the dozens was a little overwhelming at times, but it was good to know he was part of a family, even if he hadn't met half of them yet.
"Oh! How adorable!" Miranda exclaimed suddenly with that squeal of girlish delight that marked her as a female.
Desmond visibly winced as she picked up the "Vallumteen" that Lyneth had made him, speckles of glitter littering the crisp, white hospital sheets. He made a grab for the handmade card, but Miranda snatched it out of his reach, and he was still too weak to make much of an effort.
She smiled and sighed as she read the quaint, little poem Piper had helped Lyneth write:
If roses are red and violets are blue (which they're really not, they're purple) And you love my mummy, do you love me, too"
"Well?" she asked when she'd finished reading, a soft smile on her face. "Do you?"
"Do I what?" Des asked, either playing coy or completely misunderstanding the question.
"Do you love her?" Miranda asked, her eyes twinkling merrily. Her first experiment as Granger matchmaker was turning out perfectly, so far.
"That," Des said, snatching the card from her grasp finally and returning it to its place of honor on the bedside table, "is none of your business."
"A-ha!" she exclaimed, with a triumphant grin that dimpled her cheeks like a proper Granger.
"A-ha what?"
"A-ha, you love her. Desmond and Piper sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G," she continued in a sing-songy voice.
Desmond rolled his eyes dramatically. "How old are you? Six?"
"I am fwee years old," she replied with a silly grin, holding up four fingers, instead of three.
"Miran, would you get serious"!" he snapped suddenly, losing his patience. "I have a favor to ask you."
"A favor?" she repeated, eyeing him curiously. "What kind of favor" Do you want me to get you some real food?" she guessed, having heard how hospital food sucked, though she'd never had the displeasure herself.
"No." From the look on his face, she knew he'd turned serious. He was wearing his lawyer face, and when he looked like that, she knew he meant business. "I want you to fake my death."
If she'd looked surprised before, that was nothing compared to the current expression on her face. She lifted her carefully-shaped brows, her mouth dropping open just a little, and then she chuckled, waggling a perfectly-manicured finger at him. "You know, for a minute there, I thought you were asking me to fake your death."
"I was," he said with a straight face that told her he was entirely serious.
"Um, okay, but why..." She broke off before she could finish, quickly putting two and two together and following his train of thought with a soft gasp of breath. "Oh, no, Des!" She frowned, turning a little pale. "That's not a good idea."
"On the contrary, Miranda," he continued. "I'm already missing. It won't be hard to convince them I'm dead. All I'm asking you to do is play along."
"But Des....You're here. You're alive. There's no body. How am I supposed to pull that off?"
Desmond smiled smugly. "Don't worry. I have a plan."
"That's exactly what worries me," said Miranda with a frown.
((The plot thickens! Credit for the Valentine's poem goes to Lyneth's writer. Many thanks!))
"Miran, you're smothering me," Desmond complained, as he tried to untangle himself from the woman's embrace, despite the chuckle. A couple of months ago, few would have cared if he'd lived or died, but in good part because of Miranda, all that had suddenly and unexpectedly changed. "Of course, I'm alive, you silly woman. Do you think I'm a ghost?"
"No! I was just worried. We all were," she admitted with a small frown, pulling away from him just far enough to look him over. She wasn't the only one who'd been afraid they'd nearly lost him.
Des arched a brow, not bothering to ask who the word "we" encompassed exactly. It went without saying that Piper and Lyneth had been worried. If it hadn't been for them, he might not have made it. Miranda was obviously another. But who else? His brother Jon maybe. Kaylee" Correy' Humphrey and Caroline, more than likely. Other than that, he wasn't so sure. He hadn't gotten particularly close to anyone yet, and the family was a large one.
To think that a few months ago, there had been no one, and now his family numbered in the dozens was a little overwhelming at times, but it was good to know he was part of a family, even if he hadn't met half of them yet.
"Oh! How adorable!" Miranda exclaimed suddenly with that squeal of girlish delight that marked her as a female.
Desmond visibly winced as she picked up the "Vallumteen" that Lyneth had made him, speckles of glitter littering the crisp, white hospital sheets. He made a grab for the handmade card, but Miranda snatched it out of his reach, and he was still too weak to make much of an effort.
She smiled and sighed as she read the quaint, little poem Piper had helped Lyneth write:
If roses are red and violets are blue (which they're really not, they're purple) And you love my mummy, do you love me, too"
"Well?" she asked when she'd finished reading, a soft smile on her face. "Do you?"
"Do I what?" Des asked, either playing coy or completely misunderstanding the question.
"Do you love her?" Miranda asked, her eyes twinkling merrily. Her first experiment as Granger matchmaker was turning out perfectly, so far.
"That," Des said, snatching the card from her grasp finally and returning it to its place of honor on the bedside table, "is none of your business."
"A-ha!" she exclaimed, with a triumphant grin that dimpled her cheeks like a proper Granger.
"A-ha what?"
"A-ha, you love her. Desmond and Piper sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G," she continued in a sing-songy voice.
Desmond rolled his eyes dramatically. "How old are you? Six?"
"I am fwee years old," she replied with a silly grin, holding up four fingers, instead of three.
"Miran, would you get serious"!" he snapped suddenly, losing his patience. "I have a favor to ask you."
"A favor?" she repeated, eyeing him curiously. "What kind of favor" Do you want me to get you some real food?" she guessed, having heard how hospital food sucked, though she'd never had the displeasure herself.
"No." From the look on his face, she knew he'd turned serious. He was wearing his lawyer face, and when he looked like that, she knew he meant business. "I want you to fake my death."
If she'd looked surprised before, that was nothing compared to the current expression on her face. She lifted her carefully-shaped brows, her mouth dropping open just a little, and then she chuckled, waggling a perfectly-manicured finger at him. "You know, for a minute there, I thought you were asking me to fake your death."
"I was," he said with a straight face that told her he was entirely serious.
"Um, okay, but why..." She broke off before she could finish, quickly putting two and two together and following his train of thought with a soft gasp of breath. "Oh, no, Des!" She frowned, turning a little pale. "That's not a good idea."
"On the contrary, Miranda," he continued. "I'm already missing. It won't be hard to convince them I'm dead. All I'm asking you to do is play along."
"But Des....You're here. You're alive. There's no body. How am I supposed to pull that off?"
Desmond smiled smugly. "Don't worry. I have a plan."
"That's exactly what worries me," said Miranda with a frown.
((The plot thickens! Credit for the Valentine's poem goes to Lyneth's writer. Many thanks!))