december 24 - making a childhood holiday wish come true
1D Fanfic/Salute Extra
Harry/Piper (with a bit of Louis/Eleanor)
*
"Are you really not going to tell me where we're going?"
Harry took his eyes from the road for a moment to give Piper a sneaky little smile, full of hidden meaning and veiled intent. He had been tight lipped since he had arrived at her flat, forcing her to leave behind her book and get in the shower. She got out, scrubbed clean, to find the most gorgeous dress she'd ever seen hanging on the front of the open bathroom door. Long and sleek, it was a rich navy blue that fit her figure, with a boatneck collar and long sleeves. It was gorgeous and, checking the tag, it was also expensive.
He wouldn't tell her what it was for, just that she had thirty minutes to get into it and get her hair sorted or they were going to be late. Late for what? He wouldn't say. While she got ready, she would ask questions every so often that he would neglect to answer. He busied himself making cheese toasties which they then ate standing in the bathroom, Piper's hair half pinned so she could blow dry it. It must have looked absolutely ridiculous. Harry was already dressed in his suit, a polished navy number with a double-breasted jacket and trousers that were impeccably tailored. His hair was swept off to one side, the curls resting comfortably on his shoulders. Watching him eat a cheese toastie was like watching Prince William eat a cheese toastie if ever a thing were to happen.
Harry zipped her into her dress fifteen minutes later, his knuckles grazing her bare back in a way that sent shivers straight down her spine. They were standing in front of the floor length mirror on the back of her closet so she could watch as his eyes drifted up and down her image, hovering appreciatively where the dress curved over her hips or rested just on the edge of her shoulders. With her hair pulled into an elegant chignon, her neck was exposed and it didn't take long for Harry's lips to end up there. "Watch it," she said warningly before he had the urge to bruise her skin like he usually did. "I don't know where we're going but judging by this dress, it's not somewhere that would take too kindly to fresh love bites."
Harry groaned but couldn't disagree so he detached himself from her and waited while she collected her shoes and a clutch. Waiting downstairs in the garage was the Aston Martin. It took some creative maneuvering to get into it wearing that dress but with Harry's help (a lot of Harry's help) they managed.
Piper had been watching the streets carefully as they drove, trying to figure out where they could possibly be going. A fancy restaurant perhaps? A work gala that Harry had to attend? A million things raced through her mind, some of them feasible, some of them definitely not. None of them were anything close to what the special surprise turned out to be.
Her eyes widened as they pulled into a valet line in front of the London Coliseum. Ahead of them, people were stepping out of cars, dressed in gowns and suits. They all looked very rich and important. She had a moment where she looked at her reflection in the side mirror and wondered if she could pass as one of them. She decided no.
Immediately the anxiety set in which was so stupid because Piper knew, she knew, that these people weren't inherently better than her, that they weren't out of her league, that she wasn't less in comparison. It didn't stop the way her stomach clenched and it felt like her feet were so heavy she couldn't move. She didn't want to get out of the car. She didn't want people to see her. She didn't want to be standing next to the perfection that was Harry Styles and feel like she was just the small little girl he was toting along out of pity. And it was just so stupid. Her brain was her worst enemy because her heart knew that Harry cared for her and liked her and that he would never in a million years have those sorts of thoughts. But her head was looking at all the fancy women and polished men and bombarding her with thoughts of wrong, misfit, unworthy, outcast and it was very hard to drown them out.
"Stop," Harry said, breaking the silence in the car. She looked over and saw that he was looking at her intently, clutching his bottom lip between his thumb and finger. His eyes, brilliant green in contrast to the blue suit, were steady on her. "Just stop, petal."
He must have noticed the way she couldn't stop her fidgeting hands or how her breathing had become sort of shallow or how she'd adopted a deer-in-headlights expression as she watched the people in the queue in front of them getting out of their cars.
She blew out a shaky breath. "It's just —"
"I know," Harry told her, "but we've been over this before. We went over this on our first date. You don't need to be uncomfortable because you look beautiful and you can be quite the sophisticated lady when you want to be."
Piper gave Harry a reproachful look that made him grin cheekily. "Come on, petal. Just loosen up a bit. I promise that you're going to enjoy your surprise and then all these stiffs will be the last thing on your mind."
"Promise?" Piper said softly.
"Promise."
They came up in the queue and Harry angled out of the car with practiced precision, handing the keys over to the valet. He crossed around the front of the car and then opened the passenger door. When he held out his hand, palm up, Piper slid hers into it and let Harry pull her gracefully from the car. He bent to adjust her dress around her feet so she wasn't tangled or tripping before she could even think to do it herself. That was Harry for you — she wondered (often) how she could have been so fortunate as to find him.
His arm came around her waist at a respectable and comfortable height and then the two of them were walking through the cold to the entrance of the London Coliseum. Piper had no idea what was even playing because she didn't keep current on the Opera world. She thought she might have seen ads in the tube for Swan Lake but that was for February. Before she had a chance to ask Harry, they were stepping through the entrance and Piper was enthralled by the winter wonderland within.
She was pretty sure that the decor was not usual for the theatre. Trees stood everywhere, decorated with red and gold, surrounding by circles of white fluffy snow and stacks of wrapped gifts. Boughs and garlands hung from the ceiling, wrapped in small white lights that sparkled. Standing at the doors and the bases of the railings were tall wooden nutcrackers.
"Your tickets?" someone interrupted. Piper glanced over at the attendant who was giving her a sideways glance that she didn't like. It was judgemental and when he scanned her dress and then her hair, she felt the frantic anxiety building in her once more.
Harry reached into his inside pocket without removing his hold from her. He flashed them to the attendant who made a big show of reading them. Something caught his eye and he immediately looked like he swallowed his tongue. He cleared his throat uncomfortably and then waved the two of them in. With a curt 'thank you' to the man, Harry nudged her forward and the two of them walked into the foyer.
Before Piper could say a single word, Harry was being greeted by suited gentlemen left, right and centre. He shook hands and kissed women's cheeks, greeting everyone by name. Piper could only stand at his side and watch, not knowing anyone. Harry always made sure to introduce her to whoever they were talking to — Lords, Members of Parliament, Cabinet Ministers, the Chief of Defense Intelligence, the Director of GCHQ, the Director General of MI5 — and while Piper tried to keep track of it all, it quickly got overwhelming. She was shaking hands with some of the most powerful men and women in Britain. Of course, none of them had heard of her so there were often questions about what she did, things like that. Harry often introduced her as a colleague although it was clear there was more by the way he was holding her. He let people make their own inferences.
She had another one of those moments where she was reminded of Harry's status in the world of espionage and government. He knew some of the most powerful people in the UK by first name. They greeted him like an old friend. It was absolutely baffling.
When they finally managed to get away, heading in the direction of their seats, Piper managed to find her words. "What the hell was that?"
"What?" he asked curiously as he guided her up the stairs. She reached down to pull up the front of her dress when she nearly took a Jennifer Lawrence nose dive and then sent him a withering stare.
"I feel like I just met every single important person in this country in the last twenty minutes. What's next? The Prime Minister?"
"Nah, he always comes right before the show starts and sits in a private box." Piper gaped at him, unable to believe that she was going to be in the same theatre as the fucking PM. For a moment, she thought Harry was taking the piss but judging by the completely upfront expression on his face, he wasn't.
"Holy motherfucker," she hissed under her breath, ignoring the gasp from one of the society ladies that was walking by in the other direction. "What is going on right now? Where are we?"
"It's a special gala presentation," Harry explained as they made it to the second floor. He dropped his arm from her waist in favour of taking her hand and using it to lead her through the throngs of people. "For government employees. It's sort of a chance for the regular people like us to mingle with the higher ups, or so they say. I'm not sure how many of us actually mingle with the higher ups in the end."
Piper was about to correct Harry and say that he was definitely not a regular person in this context but she felt like it might start an argument so she kept it to herself. She still couldn't believe that they were in the same building as some of these people. She held her tongue when Harry led them toward the entrance to one of the boxes. The attendant checked their tickets and gave Piper a much warmer smile than she had received downstairs. He held back the curtain that led to the small antechamber before the box. "A box?" Piper questioned as the curtain was closed behind them. "We're sharing a box? With who?"
"A couple of people from the JIC. Eleanor got the tickets for us," Harry explained as he dropped her hand so he could straighten his coat a bit. Piper immediately began fidgeting with her own dress, smoothing it out, and touched her hair to make sure everything was in place. There was a mirror on the wall and Piper curled her lips up to check her teeth for lipstick. She felt Harry's hands land gently on each hip and glanced over her shoulder. "You look wonderful, Piper. Stop worrying."
She took a deep breath and nodded on the exhale. Harry offered his arm to her and she looped hers through. They stepped through the second curtain together and Piper attempted to smile when heads turned their direction. It was a 12-seat box with two levels and all the seats on the back part were filled. Harry said hello to a couple of the faces there — the liaison to the CIA and his wife, the Belgian ambassador and her partner, two other British government body liaisons that did jobs similar to the one Eleanor did — and some people stayed quiet and didn't interact. Piper didn't feel like she took a breath until they were sitting in their two seats at the front of the box. Harry let her sit on the inside and turned to chat momentarily with the Head of International Terrorism at MI5, giving her a moment to collect herself. She used the opportunity to look around.
She'd never been into the London Coliseum before, just admired it from afar. It was a gorgeous venue, with beautiful moulding and golden accents. It felt warm and comforting, especially decorated for Christmas, despite how large it was. She looked at the different boxes, noting the empty one that most likely belonged to the PM and then finally her eyes turned to the stage. A filmy curtain showed glimpses of the stage and the set, and across the front, written in curling script, was The Nutcracker.
"Oh Harry," she gasped a bit, quietly and under her breath, but he must have heard because she felt his hand rest gently on her thigh. When she looked up, tears in her eyes, he was smiling warmly.
"Surprise."
"How did you know?" she asked as she took the pocket square Harry offered her and used it to dab her eyes dry.
"The book on your shelf, of course."
"I only gave it a B."
"I know. Generous I think considering it was such a terrible translation — I read it while you were in the bath one night last week. But the picture you'd used as your bookmark fell out and I made an inference."
She'd always loved the Nutcracker, the story and the characters, the magic and the Christmas spirit. She'd consumed it in any form possible as a child — book, film, cartoon. Something about it had always had a sort of magical significance to her that she couldn't quite describe but that filled her with joy at just the mere mention. And then she'd discovered the ballet.
It seemed like something every little girl should know about, the Nutcracker ballet, but Piper had never been a normal kid. When other little girls were taking beginner dance lessons, she was reading her books and going to computer camp. She'd never complained about the hobbies her parents had enrolled her in but a small part of her had always yearned to be a ballerina. Not that she would have ever told anyone — Andrew would have never let her hear the end of it. In the long run, it was probably for the best because she was extremely uncoordinated. Sometimes at night though, she'd close her eyes and picture herself twirling across the stage into the arms of a strong, handsome man who would lift her high and spin her around.
She never admitted to her love of ballet so she'd never had a chance to go. She'd never experienced the Nutcracker live on stage like this. It had been on her bucket list for ages but with everything going on in her life, she hadn't had time to enjoy a show. She'd never forgotten though. And she kept a clip from a magazine she'd torn out years before, of Darci Kistler in the movie version of the Nutcracker from the early 90s as the iconic Sugar Plum Fairy.
"Harry, I don't know what to say."
"Say thank you, petal," he said as he took her chin gently in his hand, angling it so he could press his lips to hers in a gentle kiss. She was blushing hard by the time he pulled back, wondering who might have been watching, but he didn't seem to care. He was never embarrassed to be with her and she loved him for it.
"Thank you. This is like a dream come true."
Harry smiled brightly, his eyes crinkling a bit but sparkling green in the dimming lights of the theatre. The orchestra finished warming up as the lights flickered twice in a five minute warning. Piper could barely contain her excitement and it must have shown because Harry chuckled, grasping her hand in his and letting her squeeze it tight.
"I wonder where Lou and Eleanor have gotten off to," Harry murmured after a couple of minutes had passed. The show would be starting any second. "They're going to miss it if they don't hurry up."
"Keep your pants on," a familiar voice snapped from behind them, "we're right here."
Piper spun in her seat with that same stupid grin plastered to her face and greeted Louis and Eleanor. Louis was looking surprisingly polished and dashing in his suit and bow tie, his hair smoothed back from his face which was clean-shaven. Eleanor, of course, looked radiant in a plum colour floor length gown, her hair cascading in curls over one shoulder. They shuffled into their seats, Louis behind Piper and Eleanor behind Harry, and then both leaned forward a bit as Piper and Harry hovered over the backs of their seats.
"What took so long?" Harry asked, his brow scrunching as he looked between the two of them.
"This one," Eleanor said with a sigh as she jabbed her thumb in Louis's direction, "insisted on stopping for a chat even after they'd called the five minute warning."
"Oh, I'm sorry, was I supposed to tell the PM to shove off?" Louis shot back. Eleanor narrowed her eyes at him and Piper could tell that this was just a continuation of an argument they'd already been having on the way up to the box.
"You know I don't like him." Eleanor's voice was lower than usually and surprisingly loaded. She sounded furious. Piper couldn't fathom why. Sure, she wasn't a huge fan of this new Prime Minister but she didn't feel that passionately about it. Obviously there was history there. "If I never see Aiden Manning again in my life, it'll be too soon."
Louis sort of deflated, his shoulders which had been tensed up seeming to relax, and his blue eyes softened as he eyed his girlfriend. Piper didn't think she'd ever seen Eleanor frazzled, ever. She was always so perfectly poised, collected and sophisticated. She never let anything bother her. She managed to keep her cool even when the One Direction men were being absolute idiots. Apparently, her Achilles heel was the PM because her hands were balled into fists and she was staring hard at the back of Harry's chair, her mouth pressed into a tight line.
Louis didn't seem surprised, really. More like he hadn't expected the reaction to be this serious but that he understood the motives underlying it. He let his hand rest gently on Eleanor's back in a comforting gesture. She gave him a forced smile and then let her head drop, focusing on her hands in her lap.
Not sure what else to do, Piper cleared her throat and attempted conversation. "You've, uh, you've met the PM before?"
"Sure, loads of times," Louis said with a shrug. "I used to be his IT guy when he was still just an MP. We really did not get along."
"My mum thinks he's dodgy," Piper supplied when she really couldn't think of anything else to say. "She doesn't like his ties or his weird haircut. Or his policy decisions for that matter." Eleanor smiled a teeny bit and Piper was happy she'd managed to cheer her up even a little bit. "By the way, Eleanor," she said which made the other woman glance up, "thanks for the tickets."
"It was Harry's idea," she said quietly, sounding a bit confused.
"Yeah, but it was your connection and you helped. So thank you."
"You're very welcome," Eleanor said sincerely, managing a proper smile. Louis gave his girlfriend a supportive pat on the back and Eleanor responded by leaning in toward him a little. Louis didn't waste a second putting his arm right across her back and pulling her in close.
"You're not going to start crying on us, are you?" Louis asked Piper derisively. "I'm not in the mood for that."
"Well, you can fuck right off."
"Temper," Louis said as his eyes widened. He smirked in Harry's direction. "Do you let her talk to you like that too?"
"I don't let her do anything," Harry shot back with a lazy shrug. "She does what she wants, no matter what I do."
That was absolutely the right answer. "I don't need to talk to him like that," Piper informed Louis with a cold stare, "because he's a gentleman and he knows how to respect a lady. And anyways, it's my surprise and I'll cry if I want to."
Harry chuckled at her response and at the mock offense on Louis's face but he didn't have a chance to make fun of his mate before the lights were dimming for real and the whole theatre was plunged into darkness. Piper sat back in her chair properly, sitting primly in case anyone around them was watching.
It only took one scene for her to stop caring what anyone thought, at which point she leaned right into Harry as he tucked his arm across her shoulders. She must have been quite a sight. She gasped in surprise whenever one of the dancers did something particularly impressive and if something was about to happen in the story she found herself nudging Harry's leg gently in anticipation. When the mice and the nutcracker were fighting, she gripped onto his hand so tight that she was surprised she didn't cut off his circulation entirely. She teared up when Clara and the Nutcracker-turned-Prince were dancing together because the music was beautiful and the choreography was beautiful and it felt like every single dream she'd had as a child about this ballet was coming true.
So what if Louis made fun of her for being all weepy during the intermission? So what if the first impression that she made meeting the PM in the queue for the bar was of her mascara smudged around her eyes? So what if at the end of the night, a passing car splashed a puddle of muddy water over the bottom of her dress? Nothing could ruin that night.
It was a dream come true.