27th December, 2014

Getting ready for a date, especially a first date, could be murder on the nerves. Doubtless Edward's nerves were not being helped by the fact that his sister was not exactly being subtle with her disapproval of the whole thing. It wasn't that Brynne had anything against Lis, really; it was more that she thought her brother could do so much better than a maid. She leaned in the doorway of his bedroom, sighing softly. "You're absolutely sure you want to date the help?"

It had been nearly a week since he'd arrived home, and he was still looking painfully thin and a little too pale, but between Brynne and Lis, he appeared to be on the mend. He had not told them that he'd awoken that morning with a small fever that he'd fended off with a couple of aspirin. There was no point in worrying them over nothing. Whatever it was that had been sapping his strength, he'd been assured it was nothing contagious - at least, not anymore. He'd been looking forward to this date with Lis since he'd asked her, and he wasn't going to let a little thing like a fever slow him down. "It's just a date, Bree. And she's your help, not mine," he pointed out as he tried yet again to adjust his tie. It had been years since he'd worn one, and he couldn't quite get it right.

"You could do so much better, Teddy," his sister pointed out, pushing from the doorway to rescue him from his own tie. "Mum'll have a heart attack if I tell her you're dating my maid. You know she's always had these dreams about you marrying some hot-shot lawyer or award-winning journalist."

His face darkened a little at her statement, not only because he didn't like the way she seemed to imply that Lis wasn't good enough for him, but that his mother had her own plans for his life. "She's more than just a maid, Brynne," he pointed out, carefully controlling his voice so she wouldn't catch hint of his irritation. "She was a nurse before you hired her as a maid. And Mum has to stop trying to arrange my life and let me do it myself."

"You know I don't mean it like that," she told him, rolling her eyes as she settled his tie at his throat. "I like Lis, I do. It's just awkward and weird, and you barely know each other," she added pointedly. "I mean, waiting a little while more before asking her out might have been a better way to go."

"I can't explain it, but she's the first woman I've felt any connection with in years, Bree," he tried to explain, holding as still as he could while she adjusted the tie at his throat. He'd always hated the bloody things, but he wanted to make a good impression on the woman he was taking out. She'd already seen him nearly at his worst; now, she could see him nearly at his best. "Besides, life is too short, so why wait' If nothing comes of it, I've made a friend and you still have a maid. If something comes of it, well....I suppose we'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

"Yeah, well ..." Brynne sighed. "I don't approve, but you're my big brother and I'll stand by your decisions. And make sure you don't go out looking like something the cat dragged through the hedge backwards." She gave his tie a final tug, and stepped back, looking him over. "You'll do."

"And that's exactly why I love you," he told her with a smile, before turning to look at his own reflection in the mirror. "Gods, I look half-dead. A vampire has more life in it than I do," he said, frowning at the face that looked back at him. He didn't really look as bad as that - all he really needed was to put a little weight on and get a little color in his face.

"You look fine," she promised him. "You look handsome. And yes, I know, I'm biased, but you're still the most gorgeous man of my acquaintance, and in a suit, I'll be very surprised if you don't leave a trail of comatose men and women in your wake, stunned by your godliness."

That made him chuckle anyway. "Godliness" Don't be absurd," he told her, doubting her estimation of him. She was surrounded by handsome Granger men on a daily basis, and he thought he was the least of them when it came to good looks. Then again, he did want to make a good impression. "Do you think she'll be pleased?"

Brynne raised a brow, giving him a look only a little sister could give her big brother. "Teddy, she's seen you hungover in your pajamas," she pointed out. Christmas morning had been entertaining for Lila and Lis, at least - Brynne always over-indulged, and with his strength and weight as it was right now, Edward probably shouldn't have spent that last couple of hours going through Humph's liquor cabinet with the Old Man.

"Don't remind me," he said with a wince, wishing she hadn't reminded him of that, though he thought he'd cleaned up nicely since then. "How was I to know the Old Man was looking to get me drunk?"

She chuckled. "It's Humph," she reminded him cheerfully. "He's always out to get someone drunker than he is on Christmas Eve. Just be glad Vicki didn't join in - that woman can drink like a fish. She's the only person I've ever come across who can drink Dom and Humph under the table."

"I used to be able to keep up with them," he said, smoothing an errant curl from his forehead. "I've become a lightweight." He frowned at his own reflection again, wondering just how he'd managed to change so much and how long it would take before he felt like himself again.

"Not necessarily a bad thing," Brynne mused, looking him over once again and nodding finally. "You look good, Teddy. No one'll hold a candle to you, I promise." And since Lis hadn't seen him before he'd gone away, Brynne highly doubted the woman noticed how thin and pale he was, even if she had been a nurse once. "Are you picking her up, or is she coming here?"

"I'm picking her up. Jon lent me the Bentley. Can you imagine" I suppose I shall have to think about getting my own transportation, if I'm to stay here a while," he admitted with that uncertain look on his face. He had assumed his stay here would be temporary at best, but now he wasn't so sure. He continued to study his own reflection, wondering if he would ever look like himself again.

"There's a whole garage of cars at the main house standing idle, Teddy," his sister pointed out with a faint grin. "I can't see anyone objecting if you claimed one for yourself while you're here." She stepped deliberately between him and the mirror. "Stop worrying so much. You'll give yourself wrinkles before your time."

"Do you know how long it's been since I've driven a car, Brynne" Jon is putting a lot of faith in me by lending me his baby. And please don't tell me it's like riding a bicycle because it's not." He frowned a little as she stepped between himself and the mirror, blocking the view of himself. "Do you remember when we were little" When we all used to play together like nothing could ever go wrong?"

Thankfully, Lila was with her grandparents that evening, or he would have had a lot more "help" than he could cope with. As it was, there was only Brynne to wish him well, calling out her own good luck wishes from the living room. "Curfew's at midnight," she added impishly. "Not a minute later!"

"Yes, Mum!" he called back as he made for the door. Disaster or not, he had to get back up on the horse sometime, so to speak, if he didn't want to spend the rest of his life alone. "See you later, Bree! Don't wait up!" he called back, though he had a feeling she would.

"Like I want to see you stumbling all over the house with your hand up her skirt," was her parting shot, but he did know his sister well. She'd appointed herself his keeper for the time being, and that meant she would be up until he was home, just to be sure he was well.

He chuckled again at the thought of that. Like he'd be stupid enough to bring her back here if things were to go that far, which he doubted anyway. If he was anything, it was a gentleman. His father had taught him that. He said nothing more to that, pulling on a wool overcoat and stepping out into the cold winter evening. A light snow was falling, and he cursed himself for choosing to drive. What was he thinking, driving Jon's Bentley' If the car got so much as a scratch, he'd never forgive himself, but it said volumes for Jon's trust in him anyway, even if he couldn't remember his elder cousin.

As it happened, driving did come back to him as easily as riding a bike, though the roads were a bit slippery with the new-fallen snow. The restaurant was as nice as Jon had promised, nice enough for a first date, but not so fancy or exclusive as to intimidate himself or his guest. He might have been raised a Granger, but it had been a long time since he'd enjoyed a life of privilege and wealth. The conversation was made up mostly of small talk, at least until they were both settled in at the restaurant and feeling more comfortable.

He had done all the little things that gentlemen were supposed to do. He'd opened her door, helped her from the car, taken her coat, pulled out her chair. He hadn't missed a beat when it came to that sort of thing, though whether it was consciously or out of habit was hard to say. Now that they were settled in at a table with a bottle of wine and a plate of appetizers, he seemed to relax enough to turn the conversation to more personal matters. "So, tell me....What do you see yourself doing ten years from now?"

Where he hadn't been on a date in over a decade, Lis hadn't ever been on a date, period. She was ridiculously nervous, stuttering over the language in the car, only beginning to relax finally when they were sat down at their table. She just didn't know how to do this sort of thing. "Ten years from now?" Her lips curved in a wry smile. "I do not know. There are always wishes, and dreams, but even on Rhy'Din, dreams do not come true. What of yourself?"

"All right. Let me rephrase the question. What would you like to be doing ten years from now?" he asked, smiling back at her, charmed by her obvious nervousness. She was like a fish out of water now that he had her away from the kitchen. He would have reassured her and told her to just be herself, but he guessed she could be no one else. She was not one to put on airs, and that was one of the things that he liked best about her.

Her hands fidgeted as she considered this question, sure that her hopes for her future were out of reach. But she didn't seem to mind sharing them with him, confident that he would not laugh at her for holding something so close to her heart. "In a world that is ideal," she said quietly, "I would like to have a family, and to be doing something that helps more than just me. I do not think I would like to still be a maid."

He smiled at her answer. So, she did want the same things that he did, after all. He thought she might. It was making those things happen that was the real trick, and the first step to that was meeting someone who wanted the same thing. "Like what? What would you like to be doing?" he pressed her further, curious what hopes and dreams she held in her heart and wondering just how closely they mirrored his own.

She laughed a little, strangely shy of sharing her dream with someone who seemed to have lived it already. "You know why I left nursing," she said softly. "And why I became a nurse to begin with. I want to help people, not play silly games and leave the work to someone else. People who need that help, whether they truly know it or not. I do not know how to make it happen."

"There are ways, I suppose, though it depends mainly on whether you want to stay here on Rhy'Din or go somewhere else. The possibilities are endless really, if you consider you have the whole multiverse to choose from, but I've always been drawn to Earth, myself. I'm not sure why. There's probably Terran blood somewhere in my family line, but I don't think that's why either. There's a hospital here on Rhy'Din and a clinic or two, but that's not the same thing as doing disaster relief or humanitarian aid." Was he debating the options for her or for himself" Maybe both.

"I have not been back to Earth since I was sixteen," she intimated in her soft way. "I do not know it, not even my home country. I would not know where to go, or what to do. And yet, as you say, there is nothing on Rhy'Din that can itch that scratch to help people."

"There are places that aren't safe on Earth. The need is great, but you don't want to go there," he mused aloud, though as a native of Earth, she must know this already. He couldn't imagine her putting her own life at risk, though he knew it was a purely selfish thought. What right did he have to tell her what to do with her life, when he was so at odds with his own" "There are other places though, safer places. And there's disaster relief, too. There's always some disaster going on someplace or another." It wasn't a decision either of them had to make today, but there was no one else to discuss it with who was likely to understand but the two of them.

"I-I have read about the clinics that have been put together in Africa," she offered quietly. "I had thought ..." She cleared her throat, actually blushing as she attempted to explain herself. "I have some money saved. I ....I thought that, perhaps, I could look into finding someone who might help me set up a clinic of my own, somewhere that is not unstable or in a war zone, but still desperately poor. There are many such places, I believe."

Money she had saved" What was it Brynne had said just the other night' That Humphrey would likely put up some money for such an endeavor, if Edward were to make his desires known. That his own desires were so much in sync with hers had to be more than just a matter of chance. "There are, I'm sure. I've been thinking the same thing actually."

He'd enjoyed the eggs and the omelets she had created for him more than the broths and the soups, which, though easily digested, weren't really helping him regain the lost weight. And who knew better how to feed someone recovering from illness than a nurse, former or otherwise" He didn't dare tell Brynne this, knowing she was only doing what she thought was best. He chewed and swallowed another hunk of meat before diving into his baked potato, forcing himself to take his time as much as he could. "I'm glad you like it. My cousin recommended this place. Jon. You've probably heard of him. He's become rather famous since I left home," he told her, back to small talk in between bites of dinner.

"I have," she said, laughing at her own silly enthusiasm at being able to relate at some level. "He is the ....Cincuenta ....um ....oh! Fifty Colors of Grey, yes" He is very famous. Hairy, though." Well, at least he knew she'd seen at least one of those films now, even if all she'd taken away from it was how hairy Jon's chest was.

That made him laugh at loud, not so much at the thought of his cousin's hairy chest, but the fact that the girl he was taking on her first date ever had seen his cousin up on the silver screen baring almost all of it to the world. "I think you're the first woman I've ever met whose first impression of Jonathan Granger is how much hair he has on his chest." He could not say the same for himself, though if he had a choice between one extreme or the other, he was glad he didn't have to worry about an overabundance of body hair. "I'm sure his wife appreciates women drooling over him on a regular basis," he pointed out with a silly grin.

Lis laughed, hiding her mouth behind her hand. "I have met her, she is funny," she confessed. "She was running after their dog on a very wet morning, only in her night clothes. Miss Granger was very upset that I let the dog into the house, but I thought it was kinder to help catch him."

The grin faded to a softer smile, mostly at the thought of Lis' kindness - a trait he wasn't sure Brynne quite appreciated yet. "Don't let my sister bother you. Her bark is worse than her bite," he said, the smile fading, hoping he was right about that, but he had no reason to think otherwise. After all, her prime concern these days was Lila, and Lila seemed to keep his sister well-grounded.

"She could choose to let me go at any moment," Lis shrugged, aware of how precarious her position was. "I must be careful not to antagonize her too much, or I will be without work again. It is my abiding ambition not to have to take a room in a boarding house again." This was offered with a certain amount of comical dismay.

There was that frown again, this time not only out of concern but also out of a selfish desire not to lose track of her, the way he'd lost track of Zahan. "I'm not going to let that happen, Lis," he told her, leaning closer and reaching for her hand. "You have to trust me on this. Even if Brynne does decide to let you go, which I doubt, I'm not going to let her," he insisted. Besides, why would Brynne want to lose the best cook and housekeeper she'd probably ever had" If she ever did lose Lis, he hoped it was for other reasons entirely. He hoped it was because Lis had figured out what it was she wanted to do with her life and had gone off to pursue it, whether those plans included him or not.

Her hand turned beneath his once again, fingers wrapping warm about his own, proving that she wasn't skittish around him, at the very least. "Thank you, Eduardo," she smiled, touched that he would set himself against his own sister if her job became endangered. "Though I would not wish to be the cause of trouble in your family, I do appreciate it."

"Let me tell you a little something about my sister," he said. "She's been through a lot and she's pretty tough, but in the end, she would do just about anything for me or for Lila. That I know," he told her, giving her hand a small squeeze before letting go. He was feeling a little queasy suddenly for some reason, blaming it on too much rich food and drink. His body was not used to such things after so many years away from home, not to mention his illness. "Would you excuse me a moment?" he asked, presumably to use the men's room. Why else would he ask to be excused"

Her smile gentled, appreciating the affection he held for his sister and niece, and a little envious of it, too. As he released her hand, she nodded. "Of course," she assured him, assuming he was on his way to the bathroom.

Perhaps he'd gotten up from the table a little too quickly; perhaps it was the rich food or the wine. Maybe it was just the fact that he was still weaker and wearier than he cared to admit, but as he moved to his feet, all the color drained from his face turning him as white as a sheet. He grabbed hold of the chair to steady himself as the room started to spin, his stomach flip-flopping with it.

Even three years out of nursing, some trained instincts couldn't be denied - Lis could still spot a postural drop from across a room, the feat made significantly easier by the fact that Edward was not that far away. As his hand groped for the chair, she surged up, out of her own seat, and hurried around behind him. Sensibly, she made no attempt to stop him from falling, but instead guided him gently down onto the floor with his head on her knees. Then she raised her head. "Could someone please get me a glass of cold water?"

Whatever it was that had happened, whatever the medical terminology for it, he was going down and he was going down fast, that much was certain. Thankfully, Lis was there to catch him or he might have suffered a concussion. It happened so fast, he hardly knew what hit him, only realizing that the floor was rising up fast to meet him.

While he was still feeling those dizzying effects, Lis took his wrist, her fingers pressed into his radius to check his pulse with such efficiency that the other diners around them - who had mostly risen to their feet, uncertain how to help - settled back with the confidence that he was in good hands. A waiter brought her a glass of iced water, and she thanked him, dipping a napkin into the cold liquid to gently touch it to the back of Edward's neck.

Upon feeling the cold liquid against the back of his neck, his eyelids fluttered open, looking more than a little confused at what was going on around him. "What happened?" he asked as he blinked up at the familiar face hovering over his. His fever seemed to have returned, his skin warm to the touch, though he wasn't burning up with it.

"Miss, shall I call an ambulance?" he heard someone nearby ask - a male voice, most likely a waiter. The woman seemed to know what she was doing, and they let her do it, not wanting to cause a scene.

Lis' familiar voice met Edward's ears as she answered the waiter. "I do not think so," she assured him. "Could someone help me get him into a chair? Preferably one with arms." Her fingers touched Edward's cheek gently. "You almost fainted," she explained to him. "Wait a moment, and we will get you up."

She didn't object to him leaning on her; she wasn't short herself, and in her heels, she was tall enough to balance out his slight weight with her own. Shifting a little to get the door of the taxi open, she let him take the lead with how much help he wanted to get in. "I say the same for you."

He laughed a little as he climbed into the back seat of the taxi, a little pale from the effort as he leaned back in the seat, too weak to bother with the safety straps. "The last woman who stole my heart was five years old."

She slid in beside him, drawing the door closed and giving the driver her address even as she chuckled at Edward's comment. "I do not think any man has stolen my heart," she admitted quietly.

"I don't have much competition then," he said. Maybe it was the fever talking, loosening his tongue, but the words were his. "I've never been very good at competitions," he added, as evidenced by the way he'd given up on Zahan without much of a fight, knowing he'd only lose in the end, anyway. How could he possibly compete against a family who wanted to adopt her"

"It should never be a competition," Lis mused quietly, watching the city pass by through the window, her hand laying gently in his. "But so many people make it so." Her other hand covered his in her grasp, aware that he seemed to be talking for talking's sake.

Not just for talking's sake, though the fever had seemed to loosen his tongue a bit. He'd told her more in the last few days than he'd told anyone else - including his sister - in years. "You shouldn't have to compete for the ones you love," he said, falling suddenly silent, his eyes drifting closed as if they were too heavy to keep open any longer.

"No," she murmured softly, grateful that the taxi came to a halt before he completely succumbed to sleep. "No, you should not." Gently, she gave him a nudge, leaning forward to pay the driver before pushing the door open. "We are almost there, Eduardo. You can sleep soon."

"I like the way you say my name," he told her with a sleepy smile on his face as he opened his eyes and turned his head to face her. He might not remember any of this later. He might not remember he'd told her that or said anything about his personal feelings, but for now, the fever was speaking for him, like truth serum making him say things he never told anyone. "Eduardo," he echoed. "It's so much better than Eddie."

Lis smiled, resisting the urge to stroke his cheek for such a sweet comment. "Come, Eduardo," she told him, saying his name again just to tease him a little. "We should get you to bed." A blast of cold air rushed to meet them as she pushed open the door, moving to climb out and reach in to help him up onto his feet.

"It makes me sound almost noble," he added with a weak smile as she urged him toward the door. "It's not what you think," he told the driver, who more than likely didn't really care. "She's a nurse, and I'm her patient," he explained, which didn't really sound much better, but he might not realize that 'til later. It wouldn't be until much later that he realized she'd paid for dinner and the taxi either.

"Right you are, mate," was the taxi driver's response, tactfully not grinning. He stayed in place, however, watching as Lis pulled Edward out onto the pavement and to the door of her apartment building, just in case the tall man pitched over and the pretty woman needed help getting him back up again.

Leaning Edward against the wall, Lis rummaged for her keys, glancing up at him with a smile. "Thank goodness I am on this floor."

He leaned against her as much as he dared, as she led the way up the walk to the entrance, looking a little bit drunk the way he was listing, though he was nowhere near drunk, only feverish. It was taking all his strength and concentration just to put one foot in front of the other. It was doubtful he'd be able to navigate too many stairs on his own. By the time she got him to her apartment, he'd broken out in a sweat from the effort.

"All right." She flicked the light on, thanking God for the first time that all she could afford was a pokey little apartment that you could walk across in about twenty steps. Tucking Edward's arm over her shoulder, she headed for the bedroom, through the sparsely furnished surroundings. One thing she hadn't skimped on, however, was the bed - it was big, clean, and filled most of the little bedroom. It was very easy to tip her guest onto it from the doorway.

At least, he wasn't dead weight. His legs, at least, were still obeying his commands, though his head was starting to feel as airy as a blown-up balloon. He'd said nothing from the moment they'd left the taxi until she tipped him into the bed, every cell of his being focused on just getting himself from Point A to Point B without falling down, afraid if he did, he'd never get back up.

She paused a moment to pull her own coat off, smiling down at him. He probably wasn't going to enjoy what was coming, but she had a feeling he'd feel worse if it didn't happen. It may have been a while since she'd done it, but he was going to be stripped down to his underwear to sleep, whether he helped or hindered.

He looked as though he was ready to drift off to sleep again, whether he was in his coat or not, too exhausted to move a muscle to help her just yet. "This date's been a bloody disaster, hasn't it?" he asked, worried he'd blown his one and only chance at having any more than a casual relationship with her.

"That would depend on how you would classify a successful date," she commented, kneeling on the bed to begin the process of heaving him to a vaguely upright position and removing coat, suit jacket, tie, and shirt. "You are going to spend the night in my bed, after all."

"No," he protested vaguely, though he was clearly unable to do much to prevent her from stripping him down and tucking him in. "I can't. I'll go sleep on the couch," he said, making a weak effort to pull himself up, but failing to make much progress.

"Don't argue with me," she told him firmly, pulling him back against her chest as her quick fingers undid his shirt. "You need to rest, and you're too tall for my couch." Which meant that she was probably too tall for it as well, but she wasn't going to point that out. With his cuffs undone, she worked coat, jacket, and shirt off his arms with the ease of too much practice, and let him drop back once again.