Bargain and Gain

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Author's Note: Please, read the announcement/question on my profile page, and let me know what you think.

Love,

K. xx

***

"Can we have toast for breakfast?" Viola asked, dangling her legs, sitting on one of his tall bar stools.

She considered going back to the bedroom to find something else to wear - her bottom felt rather cold in just her knickers, the tee she'd borrowed from him not covering it - but she was enjoying her coffee too much to move.

"Toast?" Rhys looked at her over his shoulder. "But I bought the currant bread, you liked it last time." He pointed at the slices with his bread knife. "I was going to pop them in the toaster oven."

"Sure," Viola said and pressed her lips stifling a giggle.

He gave her another confused look and continued making their brekkie. Viola took a sip of her coffee and ogled the man. He was dressed in a soft tee and his pants, and Viola threw an appreciative look at his strong calves, then up at his thighs and hips, at the waist and along the muscular back, at the wide shoulders, and the mop-like head of thick silky curls.

"So, regarding that idea I had yesterday," she drew out.

He put a plate with eggs, beans, and sausages in front of her, another one on the opposite side of the island, and sat down. He hummed to show he was listening and started eating. He must have exerted a lot of energy the previous evening, most of the night, and then some more in the early morning, Viola thought, quite pleased with herself. He needed sustenance.

"I assume you'll find out soon, and she did give me the permission to tell you, so here's the news. Fiona and Will are getting married in June or July," Viola said, and Rhys froze and slowly looked up at her. "She asked me to help her to organise the wedding. She wants a large, Fleckney style wedding, with flowers, drinking, dancing, and... the Clash," Viola added and laughed at Rhys' expression of utter shock.

"The Clash?" he repeated.

"Yes, and the Stranglers, and I believe she named a few other bands. I don't know much about this music, I'll have to look into that. But yes, a large, noisy, mad Fleckney wedding."

Rhys chewed his food and slowly swallowed.

"Which is exactly the opposite of what I would choose," Viola said.

He continued watching her silently.

"Which brings me to that idea of mine that I got when I was driving here," she said. She studied his stone face, but of course it was virtually impossible to gauge his reaction when he didn't want to show it. Viola took a calming long breath, exhaling purposefully. "I think I'd like to marry you again," she said firmly. Rhys blinked and still didn't react in any other way. "But I don't want a wedding," she finished and then gave him an expectant look.

"You want to marry me," he repeated in the same bland voice.

"Yes. And I want my rings back," she said.

"I have your rings, I didn't give them back to Nana," he answered.

"I know. Why didn't you?" she asked greedily.

"I don't know." He shrugged. "I just didn't."

Viola laughed softly.

"You've just wasted an opportunity to be romantic and to say that you'd always hoped I'd come back," she said.

"But I didn't," he said, his expression growing more and more confused. Viola giggled. "I just– OK, say it again. You want to get married but no wedding. Like, what? Just sign the papers in the Town Hall?" he asked.

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