Life happens
Date: August 14, 1999 Characters: Pansy Parkinson, Roger Davies Location: Parkinson House Status: Private Summary: Roger arrives to pick up his date and to ask a question. Completion: Complete
Roger looked at the clock and then back at the mirror. “You look fabulous,” it said to him, its tone almost purring. He gave it a concerned look - it’d clearly been spending too much time around Pansy. He got the last few things he needed and slipped them into his pockets.
“Tippy, fetch the corsage,” he called, heading to the door. He was met by the elf and took the small box with a nod. Tippy already had orders to change the sheets into a new set he’d bought with an obscenely high thread count. This was an important night for her, so there was no sense in not going all out. He was just relieved not to have to work. He’d pay for that later, though, he knew.
Disapparating from his flat, he appeared on the front steps of the Parkinsons. A moment later, he was allowed into the foyer where he waited.
Pansy examined herself in the mirror in her bedroom one more time. Distantly she knew that she finally looked like the princess she’d always secretly thought herself to be. It was hard to blot out all of the endless last minute plans and what-ifs that crowded her mind. It was obvious in hindsight that putting on your own debutante ball was utter madness. But that was supposed to be over now. Auntie Griselda was more than capable of handling anything that came up tonight. She just had to keep that firmly in mind and enjoy herself. She had a gorgeous refurbished dress and an equally gorgeous healer to hang off of. Roger really was the perfect accessory, not that she’d ever tell him that. He likely wouldn’t take it as the completely sincere compliment that it was.
A house elf announce that her escort had arrived.
Turning from the mirror, Pansy left her childhood room and soon found herself at the top of the grand staircase leading down to the entry of Parkinson Place. Gathering her resolve, she set aside all her worries over ball details and met Roger’s eyes. Lifting her skirts with one hand, the other resting lightly on the railing, she floated down to meet him, her excitement glowing behind her properly sedate expression. Roger’s face split into a smile as he saw her, and he took out the corsage, readying it to slip around her wrist. She really did look absolutely exquisite. His heart thumped out of order as he felt something odd stirring within in himself. Things would work out brilliantly.
“Hello, darling,” he said after a moment, leaning down to give her a kiss on the cheek. “You look beautiful.”
So saying, he slid the corsage over her fingers and up to her wrist.
“Thank you,” she murmured, raising the corsage to examine it. It was beautiful and the flower petals silken smooth as they brushed against her lips as she sniffed the central blossom. Pansy allowed herself a bright, besotted smile as she rose up on her toes to kiss his cheek. There was no one else she could imagine escorting her tonight. Even had her father or brothers been available, she knew that she would still prefer Roger’s company. t was hard not to bounce on her toes, but she managed. It helped when Rosalind made her appearance to silently give them both a once over before nodding her approval and disappearing back into the shadows. Pansy waited until she could no longer hear her mother’s footsteps before whispering, “let’s go, Roger, before she comes back to offer advice or something.” She grinned briefly. “Besides, I can’t wait to gloat to all the other girls that I have the most handsome and accomplished date at the Ball.”
Roger looked up to where Rosalind had appeared. The resentment, the hatred he usually felt when he saw her was gone - mostly. He’d have to come round tomorrow to discuss things with her.
Returning his gaze to Pansy, he nodded. “All right, though we’ve a bit of time, before we have to be there. Let’s walk to the front gate.” She layered enough protective charms into her gown that a walk across the grounds would do it no harm even if it had spent the last century in the back of a forgotten wardrobe. “A walk sounds lovely.” After a pause to let him help her into her light wrap, they were out of the wide front doors and onto the white crushed gravel path.
It was a beautiful evening. The last rays of the sun were glowing in the west as the stars shone i the east and the last of the summer’s fireflies danced across the broad lawn. Pansy sighed happily, leaning her head against his shoulder as they strolled along, utterly unconcerned about any damage that it might do to her carefully and artfully set hair. Any momentary damage could be fixed by last minute primping but this lovely moment would never come again.
It was a nice enough night - thankfully it wasn’t too hot or too cold. The girls would be happy that the weather cooperated with their plans. He had wondered what they’d do if it hadn’t, but had decided not to mention the possibility. They were worried enough. “Is everything ready for tonight then?” he asked once they were strolling along. His stomach was in knots, but perhaps a little small talk would calm him down.
“It had better be,” Pansy said darkly, “or the ones responsible will have to answer not only to Bea and I but to Auntie Griselda. I do not think anyone is foolish enough to take on all three of us.” The caterer had already tried and was even now recovering on holiday while his business partner took up the slack.
She turned suddenly anxious eyes up at him. “Why? You’ve not heard anything have you?” She’d had a few nightmares about everything going pear-shaped but after months of study with Madam Endora she was nearly sure they were only nightmares and not actual products of her foresight. Roger blinked and looked down at her, unprepared for the question. “Er ... no? I haven’t heard anything,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m sure everything will be brilliant. How could it not be?”
He squeezed her hand, hoping to reassure her and hoping to reassure himself, too. “Besides, I’m sure this is the event of the season. My mother was disappointed she didn’t have any daughters of the appropriate age to attend.”
“Right. Of course.” Pansy relaxed once more now that the potential problem had proved to be anxiety instead of reality spawned. “It will be utterly brilliant. If it is not, heads will roll.” She nodded emphatically at that last. She twisted her hand in his so she could weave their fingers together. It wasn’t proper form, but who cared? “I hope that it is. We’ve put so much work into it.” She smiled up at him, teasingly. “I am sorry that your mother is disappointed like that, but I am sure there will be other times. Other generations. Your sister is married, after all. Your mother should be asking her about potential debutantes. If they start planning now, perhaps they won’t get as stressed out as Beatrice and I have been.”
Roger laughed at that. “Well, when she was saying it, she was giving me the eye. I think I’m expected to help provide that next generation,” he said, shaking his head. That gave him a rather perfect introduction, didn’t it? He stopped and looked over at her, his stomach roiling. “Pansy ... I think ... there’s something that I need to talk to you about.” Pansy’s brow wrinkled as she met his eyes. He had the funniest expression on his face. “What is it?”
Her heart stopped and then plummeted down to the level of her knees. If he was about to break up with her here and now, she was going to... well, she had no idea what she would do but it would be drastic. And painful. And very, very loud.
Bugger, now he’d gone and said something and now he had to say something else. He cleared his throat. He’d had a perfectly lovely little speech all planned out and couldn’t, for the life of him, remember a word of it right now.
“Well, you see ...” He paused and cleared his throat, looking down at her. “I ... that is to say ... you’re a lovely girl - woman, you’re a lovely woman. And when we first met I wouldn’t have thought that we’d get on as well as we do. Not nearly at all - I mean. You were ... a good friend’s sister and there were other issues too. You’ve turned into an even lovelier woman than I thought you would.” “Okay,” she said slowly as she tried to unravel his rambling, “Thank you? I think you are lovely, too.” He hadn’t been drinking, had he? She eyed him cautiously. She’d never known him to be so inarticulate.
Pansy raised her hand to gently touch his cheek. He didn’t feel feverish and his eyes were clear. “Thank you,” she repeated.
His eyes unfocused briefly when she felt his forehead and now she was looking at him in concern. Brilliant, he was cocking this right up.
“What I’m trying to say, Pansy, is that I’m ... terribly fond of you - more than that, really,” he managed to get out. “And I’d ... if you would, of course, I would like you ... if you want to - I mean ...would you ...”
He cleared his throat and reached into his pocket, taking out the little velvet box. Wordlessly he opened it. There was more and even worse rambling. Then there was an uncomfortable sound that made her wonder if he was coming down sick. Then there was a box. A box with a ring in it.
Pansy simply froze, not even blinking, and just stared for the longest moment. “Why do I never See the important things?” she whispered.
She was just staring at it, he noted. Did she not understand? “Um - will you?” he finally said in the silence. Now he was beginning to wonder about her health, from the way she was just looking at it. And he really didn’t like that she hadn’t said yes, yet. Maybe she didn’t love him? Maybe she wasn’t ready yet? Bugger.
“Pansy?” he said, reaching over to cup her elbow. He felt a bit sick to his stomach as he plunged on. “Are you - are you all right? Did you hear me? Will you marry me?” The moment that he touched her, she launched herself at him, all thoughts of her antique dress or her carefully hoarded and terribly delicate jewelry utterly tossed aside as her arms went around his neck and she tried her damnedest to get her legs around him as well.
“Yes!” she chanted into his ear, “yes. Merlin, Morgana and Mab, yes!”
Roger barely managed to catch her to keep her from falling. “Careful, darling,” he said, his equanimity restored with her agreement. His arms slid around her waist and he turned his head, catching her lips with his.
Once he pulled away - a little while later - he grinned at her. “You scared me there for a moment, you know. I thought you weren’t sure how to say no.” Pansy was smiling so that her cheeks hurt. She kissed him once more with slow deliberation before carefully sliding back down to the ground. “I love you, Roger Davies. How could I not want to be your wife?” She leaned her cheek against his chest just hear the sound of his heart beating. “I just can’t believe that you asked. That you want me like that.”
“I - I love you, too,” he said, rather please he only stuttered a bit. He was getting married. Holy shit. “I want you in lots of ways.”
He eyed her. “You know, we could go back to my place to celebrate?”
She was going to float away. Completely and utterly float away without the aid of a broom or magic carpet. He loved her. He even said so. “Yes, we... What? No! Roger!” She glowered at him as best she could, which honestly wasn’t anywhere near her normal level of vitriol. “You’re not getting out of my party that easily, Healer Davies.”
Reminded of the festivities that evening, she drew her wand and quickly set about putting herself back in ship-shape form. She was half-way through her ritual when she realized something was missing. A very important something. She’d lost sight of the ring!
Roger shrugged to himself. He’d tried. When she started looking around, he frowned. “What’s wrong? What are you looking for?”
His eyes scanned the area, too, trying to suss out what was amiss and then he spotted the little black box. He snatched it up quickly and saw, with relief, that the ring was still there. He took it out and took her hand, sliding it onto her finger. “It shouldn’t get lost there, should it?” “No,” she said softly, her eyes on the diamond now gracing her finger, “it won’t get lost there.” Not unless someone took her whole hand. Sweet Circe, she was engaged!
If she hadn’t just cast enough glamour charms for an entire suite filled with chattering teenaged girls, she would have flung herself at him once more. Instead she pulled him down far enough to twine her hands in his hair as she kissed him. “We can celebrate after the Ball, can’t we, love?”
Roger pretended to think about it a moment. “I think we can.”
Holding out his arm, he raised a brow, trying desperately not to grin and failing. He couldn’t really find it in himself to care, though. She’d said yes! He couldn’t wait to see Adrian’s face. He hadn’t warned his friend at all. It should be entertaining. “Now, may I escort you to the Ball, future Mrs. Davies?”
Pansy tucked her hand into the crook of his arm, glad of the anchor he provided lest she end up walking right into things. “You may, my husband to be.” Merlin, just wait until she told Beatrice! And her mother. Oh, and she’d have to send a coconut to Pelham.
But right now, right now she was ready to be introduced to Society and to dance all night with the man she loved.