Ill Conceived Plans

The Perfect Paradigm

Dane didn't want to leave. How could he? How could he leave her, them. Sarah on the other hand couldn't wait for him to go.

She was blissfully happy, loved up and content and it scared her to death.

All the time they were together she was waiting for him to leave, to realise his mistake and break her into a thousand pieces. Because it would and he would, it would have before, it almost did, but now.............playing happy families with him like this. She knew she was in trouble. It wasn't that she needed a man to make her complete, it had never been like that with Dane, he just was part of her life, etched into, grafted on. But there had always been a little bit she had held back from him – her safety net. It was gone now and it terrified her. And not just because she liked to sabotage her own happiness, Tom's commitment record wasn't exactly something to write home about. They were doomed.

She knew it.

But she couldn't help it.

Somewhere along the way she'd bought into – having it all. Or she was just horny.

She was voting horny.

Because the reality wasn't worth thinking about.

Years of counseling over her – get those fingers ready for the air quotes .......... "abandonment issues" had been pretty successful – except when it came to Dane. He was and probably had been since she was a young teen, one of the most important people in her world. Sure she had Neville and Athena as constants as well and Margaret and her various children, she had friends, her uncle and even, and sometimes especially Malcolm Hilditch. She probably had a better relationship with the older Hilditch than most of his own children. The fact that Dane and Malcolm were as close as they were was down to Sarah acting as a go-between, keeping the lines of communication open.

In fact, it had been Malcolm that she had almost chosen to tell when she was so lost and was telling no-one – though how do you tell your best friend's dad that you're having his son's baby? It turns out quite easily in the end.

It had happened now – the second Hilditch/Huntington Christmas had been the day after boxing day – not as elaborate but almost as noisy as the first – this time at Malcolm's house in London.

Lizzy, Jane, Lydia, Dane and their partners and children, Malcom's wife Deborah and their daughter Amelie and her boyfriend. While Dane and Sarah had faced Margaret and the family, dishevelled and looking for all the world like they'd just had the sex that some of them no-doubt heard (and Margaret had started dropping hints almost immediately about weddings and all the shit Sarah avoided like the plague), they arrived at Malcolm's house looking neat and tidy.

Two hours late.

Looking suspiciously rosy-cheeked and flushed like they'd spent a lot more time removing clothing rather than unpacking it. After a Christmas and Boxing day crammed together in a house with their nearest, dearest, noisiest and nosiest, they'd relished the freedom of her house, her table, her lounge – her bed.

But they had commitments and they had to tell his father.

They were met by Malcolm when they arrived. Dane with a bag of presents over his arm and Sarah carrying a Christmas cake in her arms that Hilditch senior grabbed as he ushered them inside.

As soon as the door closed behind them, they sought each other's hands, needing to touch, like they hadn't in hours, stupid school boy/girl stuff. Surging hormones.

"Like that then is it?" Malcolm asked chuckling as he followed them down the hall.

"Um we've been meaning to well," Dane started as they slowed down to allow Mal to catch up to them.