Who: Peter Petrelli and Cathy Hyatt What: Shh! It's a secret! Where: Starting at Starbucks, then... to infinity, and beyond! When: Backdated to Monday Rating: PG Status: log ; complete
Peter was counting on Cathy's secrecy. He knew that Sarah trusted the young woman, and he trusted Sarah's judgement enough to have his trust extend to Cathy. But the trick was female nature, and Peter wasn't certain about Cathy's ability to keep a secret like this from her best friend. Still, he wanted someone else's opinion. Someone that wasn't a part of the family. If he so much as breathed a word of his plan to Heidi, he suspected the entire hotel might have known within a day.
Okay, he thought, mentally scolding himself. Heidi wasn't a gossip. If he wanted her to keep a secret, he knew she would take it to her grave. The truth was, he didn't want his family involved yet. Not with a step like this.
Maybe a coffee shop wasn't the best place to meet. The caffeine offset Peter's already jittering nerves. He was checking his watch every few seconds, chiding himself for arriving fifteen minutes early, fingers rattling on the table as he waited for Cathy to arrive.
Cathy had an idea or two as to what this might be about.
Perhaps to Peter's surprise, she had kept her suspicions to herself, pondering silently on the meaning behind the mysterious text messages that were exchanged between the pair. Aside from the fact that she didn't want to get her hopes up for her best friend, there was a certain unspoken respect that was implied in situations like these. If this was what she thought it was, and Peter had decided that she was worthy of involvement, then there was no circumstance that would prevent her from doing whatever he asked.
Arriving only five minutes late--perhaps a record for the actress--she quickly spotted one Peter Petrelli sitting alone in the coffee shop. Bypassing the step of actually purchasing a caffeinated beverage, she wasted no time in crossing to the table and settling down in the chair across from him. She was curious, damn it.
"It's good to see you, Peter." The blonde woman gave him a bright, genuine smile of affirmation before leaning in closer. "Now, spill."
Peter raised his eyebrows at her bluntness, but quickly began to smile. Her direct attitude was one of the things he liked about his girlfriend's girl friend. At least he could stop being this nervous.
...right. As if that was going to happen.
"I need your help with something," he said. Hell, he could feel the heat on his cheeks as he started to blush. "I need to pick out something for Sarah, and I don't want her to know about it. I mean, it's important, but, it..." He finally gave up, and let out his breath. "Okay. I need you to help me pick out an engagement ring."
Cathy grinned as soon as Peter started to speak, convinced that her assumptions had been correct even before he got to the point. She covered her mouth with her hand, nodding fervently her agreement as she waited for the moment of sudden giddiness to pass. Anything that would come out of her mouth was bound to resemble a very girly squeal.
"This is wonderful," she told him at last, leaning closer and dropping her voice as if compensating for the temptation to cause a scene. However, if anything was worth a fuss, it was certainly the revelation that Sarah was getting married. "I won't say anything to her, I promise. This kind of thing needs to be a surprise."
Despite the way things had ended with Jamie, she still cherished that memory. And if anyone had known in advance and ruined it for her, she certainly would have been tempted to punch them square in the jaw.
Her brow furrowed, expression turning contemplative. "Are you sure, though, that you want my opinion? I mean, you know her better than anyone else."
He was still a bit flushed, but Peter nodded. "Yes, Cathy. I'm very sure I want your opinion." He started to speak, then paused, and thought about how to explain what he wanted to say.
"I love her. I've been in love before. It's wonderful. You feel warm and happy, you feel adored, you believe that the other person is everything you want and everything you need, and nothing can ever replace them in your life." He smiled at bit at some of the memories those words were bringing up. "I love Sarah. Not just a flighty 'I'm in love' feeling. I respect her, and I love her. I know she respects and loves me. She accepts me, for who and what I am more freely than anyone I've ever known." Oh, how he wished he could put the 'except for my family' disclaimer with that statement, but the truth was, not even his own family had accepted everything with the same freedom and grace that Sarah had. Nathan had wanted to hide what they were. His mother had never accepted his desire to be a hero. Even Heidi was still struggling with the reality of his powers.
"I know that she's everything I want and everything I need, because there's still so much about her that I haven't learned yet, or the little things that drive me crazy, that I hope will still drive me crazy fifty years from now. And because of all that, I know that I want her best friend's help to find the perfect ring." He shrugged. "I'm a guy. I know what I think looks good on her. And I can tell what stones or colors or cuts would make her smile. But I don't know what's a practical, sensible, elegant ring from a woman's prespective."
Cathy fell quiet as Peter spoke, her eyes never leaving his face. She didn't move, save for the involuntary, slight nods of agreement that his words provoked, touching the part that deep inside of her--despite the bruises and walls built from past abuse--was still very much a hopeless romantic. His candidness, the ability to verbalize exactly what Sarah meant to him without reservation, sprang tears to her eyes so quickly that by the time she found herself reaching for a napkin, it was too late to keep them from spilling over.
"I'm sorry," she apologized when he was done saying his piece. "It's just--....I'm thrilled. For both of you. You deserve each other."
No amount of cynicism thrust upon her along with the divorce papers could bring her to question the truth behind his words. There was an honesty there, a sincerity that could not be denied. Marriages sometimes failed, leaving both parties scarred and broken, Cathy knew from experience. However, after seeing Peter and Sarah together and hearing her best friend's boyfriend speak so lyrically about her, she firmly believed that they would be a pair to make it.
She smiled softly, reaching over to give his hand a friendly squeeze. "And I would be honored to help you pick a ring."
Peter winced slightly when he saw the moisture fall from her eyes, and pulled up a napkin, pressing it into her hand. "Don't cry. Please don't cry? Lindsey will kick my ass if I make you cry, and he won't care about the reason."
When she agreed, Peter gave her a warm smile, and then wrapped an arm around her shoulders, giving her a brief but firm hug. Then he pulled back, still grinning, and suggested, "If you don't want any coffee, maybe we should hear outside. Otherwise people are going to start wondering if I just broke up with you or something."
Standing up from his seat, Peter turned, and offered her his arm."Shall we, Miss Hyatt?"
That got a laugh out of Cathy as she accepted the napkin, shaking her head. "I won't tell," she teased back at him, dabbing at her eyes. "Don't tell him I'm a sap, and we're even." Lindsey had probably figured that much out on his own as it was, but she'd like to at least pretend to have some dignity left.
She returned the brief hug, obligingly rising to her feet and nodding her agreement. "I'm pretty sure they already are," she admitted sheepishly. "We need some sort of disclaimer." Still, she smiled as she slipped her arm through his. "We shall."
Peter nodded. "Sounds fair." When she suggested that people were already wondering, Peter looked around. Indeed, there were a few people looking at them, and their minds were clearly thinking a few things along those lines. Some were considering worse. "It's okay, everyone," he said, raising a hand and waving. "It's okay. She's happy. I'm marrying her best friend."
For a moment, Peter was surprised by the way the people were furious. Then he backpedaled. "No, no, see, she is my girlfriend's best friend. I'm marrying my girlfriend. Who is not her." Conflicting emotions now. Peter flailed internally. "Okay. I'm getting married. Be happy for five minutes, then forget we were ever here." Immediately, a cheer rose from the crowd, and Peter ushered Cathy out the door.
"So," he said, once they were a sufficient distance away from the Starbucks to merit him slowing down. "Know where there are any jewelery shops around here?"
Cathy actually groaned outwardly when Peter tried to remedy the situation and instead earned hostility from their fellow patrons. She opened her mouth to clarify, but then he had it under control, and she could only nod affirmatively, flashing them a smile and a thumbs-up for emphasis. Needless to say, she was relieved when they made it out the door safely and without Peter being harmed by some valiant young coffee enthusiast.
"Nice disclaimer," she commented, amused, once their pace had slowed. His inquiry as to the location of a jewelers merited a sideways glance from Cathy, but she nodded. "Up on the corner, actually. Did you have any place in particular in mind?"
"Not really," Peter said. "Something a little less commercialized. I'm not feeling the whole you-have-to-get-a-diamond-for-an-engagement-ring deal. Sarah's stronger than diamond." He was incredibly grateful that she wasn't wondering about the fiasco in the coffee shop. He wasn't sure he would be able to explain that. But he did know that, in five minutes, he didn't want to be there when the sudden, inexplicable cheer wore off.
Cathy smiled softly, giving a single nod. "I like that. It makes it more personal." She thought hard, trying to remember if she had ever noticed a place that fit what Peter was looking for. Considering her very limited budget, jewelery was hardly a priority. However, sometimes it didn't hurt to look...
"Let's try the place on the corner," she suggested, quickening her pace eagerly. "Just to start. Although, I'm sure when you find the ring, you'll just...know. As tacky and cliched as it sounds." She laughed, having way too much fun with all of this, and continued to babble happily. "The same thing goes with wedding dresses. Oh God, Peter, she's going to look so gorgeous. You're not gonna know what to do with yourself. Make sure you get a good photographer."
Peter dropped his head, letting his hair spill over his face in an effort to hide the way he was grinning. "I hope I will," he said. "I don't think I'm going to remember much about the day. I already sort of feel like I'm floating, just thinking about it." Only sort of. Peter knew how to float and how to fly. This was different from either. Better, in a way.
He chuckled, suddenly. "Man, I must sound like some sort of hopeless romantic," he said. "To be honest, I don't want to know about the dresses. Not dresses, not flowers, not anything. I'll wear whatever she thinks I should, however to compliment her. I'll be involved as much or as little as she wants. But I want that dress, that day, to be a surprise."
He stepped around her to open the door for the jewelery store. "Do you think she'd be okay with that?"
The smile was infectious, and Cathy found herself grinning back at him. "I think you'll be surprised by how much you remember," she commented, nudging him playfully in the side. "What stupid, obscure details stick out in your mind after the fact." The smile turned pensive, reflective for a moment before his sudden laughter and the statement that followed caught her off-guard.
"'Sound' like a hopeless romantic?" she teased, nudging him playfully in the ribs with her elbow. "I think you're already there. Kudos to her."
Call her old-fashioned, but Cathy had to agree with Peter's view on the wedding dress. Her own wedding seemed like centuries ago, but she remembered the look on Jamie's face the instant he saw her at the other end of the aisle, in that dress that she had worked so hard to keep hidden from him. His expression had told her plainly that he would love her until the day she died, and while the sentiment failed to be followed through with action, the moment had been perfect. "I can't see that she wouldn't be," Cathy replied at last. "When it comes to colors and flowers and decor, she might want you to be a little more involved. Planning a wedding is...hard work."
Talk about the understatement of the century.
Peter raised his eyebrows, his smile widening at the happy memory she was remembering. "You really think she'll need me, when she's going to have, oh, you, Charlie, Heidi, Mary Jane, Cordelia, both my nieces, and, God forbid, my mother there to help her?" His smile faded, and his nose wrinkled, considering that possibility. "Damn. I might have my work cut out for me just trying to keep Mom from getting too involved." He shrugged it off and slipped into the store behind her. "Heidi is organized enough for everyone at the hotel, too. But like I said, I'll do what she wants of me."
Peter glanced around the store, moving towards a display case of white gold. Almost instantly he was moving down to the next case, which contained several emerald pieces, but they were all done in gold. He scowled. "Emeralds," he said. "But not in yellow gold. Silver, white gold, not yellow."
Cathy laughed as he ticked the numerous names off from the list of potential co-wedding planners. "I do think she will!" she countered good-naturedly. "It's your wedding, too. She'll want to know that you're as happy and excited about the decisions being made as she is." The mention of his mother provoked other, less blissful wedding memories from the actress, and she shuddered inwardly. "Sometimes you just have to be firm."
She allowed him to lead the way once they were inside the store, trying to pick up on what exactly he had in mind for Sarah's ring before even thinking about chiming in. "So you're looking for something white gold or silver with an emerald?" she repeated for clarification, taking a moment to mentally envision the possibility. "That would be really beautiful."
Peter laughed. "Cathy, she could say she wants to be married hanging by her ankles after we've jumped off the Golden Gate Bridge together, and I'd be happy and excited about the details. The only question I want answered has four words, and will either make my dream come true, or break my heart. Everything else is just.. details." He blushed again. "Don't get me wrong, the details are great. They matter. But my day is the proposal. Her day is the wedding."
He glanced towards her when she repeated his description, and nodded. "Yeah," he said. "White or silver. Definitely an emerald. They remind me of her eyes. Diamond chips for accents are a possibility, but the stone has to be an emerald."
Cathy opened her mouth to retort when the image of what Peter had propose struck her, and she had to stop, gaping wordlessly for a moment before breaking into a round of quiet laughter and shaking her head. "I'd reconsider that. Getting the wedding band on her finger could be a problem," she joked. "Gravity and whatnot."
Sobering up, she nodded, the smile softening again. "That is so sweet. Just make sure you let Sarah know that in no uncertain terms so she doesn't feel guilty about hijacking the detail-planning." Not that she believed for a second that that would be an issue. The pair seemed to have communication down to a fine art, something that always baffled her. The thought of taking notes passed briefly through her head.
"Got it." She stepped closer to the display case, taking a moment to to survey the options the store did offer before looking back to Peter and confirming, "I don't see anything here that fits the bill."
He waved a hand, chuckling. "Oh, gravity. I can get around gravity." Adding a wink to the gently mocking tone, he said, "It's only a law, after all."
Peter shook his head at her observation. "No. I don't see anything here either." He frowned, and leaned against a counter, looking at Cathy. "Any thoughts? This is about the point where I need help. Where would you look for something like that? Something... unique. Something that has a story."
Cathy grinned, mimicking his actions with a hand-wave of her own. "Of course you can. It's just one of those minor details." Little did she know how close to the truth that was.
The idea struck her even as the words left Peter's mouth, and she found herself nodding enthusiastically. She knew a place that housed unique items, things that told sometimes ageless stories. It was a small space, located not far from the rehearsal studios the actress had called home during the production of her show, and though she had only been inside once, she knew that it could be the place where Peter found The Ring.
"I know this great antique shop," she offered up, hopeful that the suggestion would strike a chord with Peter, considering that it was the only one she had. "It's a walk from here, but they specialize in jewelery. Who knows, maybe you'll find something special there."
Peter raised his eyebrows, brightening. "Really?" An antique shop. That sounded pretty good. Really good, actually. "Let's go see. I can--" He cut himself off before he could say teleport. "I can spring for a cab, if it's a bit away."
The last time he'd been in a car was the day that Heidi and the boys had arrived. Teleportation was so much easier than the hassle of traffic.
Peter's expression earned a wider smile from Cathy, and she gave an eager nod. "If you wouldn't mind, that would probably be best. I mean, not that I don't want to spend a little extra 'getting-to-know-you' time with you, but we? Are on a mission."
And when Cathy had a goal, she wanted it met as soon as possible. The same trait had been a source of frustration in a career such as theatre, when rejection was routine and frayed her patience, but in situations like these, it certainly came in handy.
Peter couldn't help but laugh. He slipped one arm around Cathy's waist and picked her up, easily, spinning her in a circle against his hip before setting her down again. "We are definitely on a mission," he agreed. "And, if we succeed, then it basically guarentees we'll have all the 'getting-to-know-you' time we want."
With a bounce in his step, Peter opened the door for Cathy to exit the shop, walking to the curb with her to flag down a taxi. That particular skill he was quite good at, and it had nothing to do with super abilities, and everything to do with living in New York City for most of his life. "How'd you happen to find this place?"
A sound of surprise escaped Cathy as she found herself being spun around, laughing as Peter set her back down. "We will succeed!" she announced confidently, gesturing skyward for emphasis and poking him playfully in the side. "And you're getting married."
The ease with which he hailed the cab was met with an approving nod and an impressed, "Nice!" from Cathy. She considered the question as she ducked into the car and slid over in the seat, trying to find a way to condense the particularly long story that involved her castmate with a spending problem, on the hunt for new ways to creatively blow her limited and hard-earned cash as she recovered from the loss of her dog.
"...I worked in a rehearsal space down the block for two weeks and did a little exploring," she settled on at last, shrugging a single shoulder. "It's a really cool little place-- I think you'll like it."
Peter raised an eyebrow. There was a lot of emotion behind that far-too-simple explanation. but he returned to her first comment. "I still can't believe I'm considering this," he said. "I never thought I'd be shopping for an engagement ring. I never thought I would find anyone who could accept me for who I am." His voice softened, enough that the cab driver wouldn't hear his words, but Cathy still could.
"Where I came from, you couldn't let yourself hope. Or dream. Too dangerous. Too futile." One hand rubbed at his temples, then unconsciously drifted to the scar that marred his features. "I've heard so many people say what a terrible place this. How awful it is to be trapped here. But for me, going back is the real horror. I never want to go back. This is my home. Even if someone or something else decided to put me here, I've made the choice to make this my home."
Cathy smiled softly, turning from the window to regard Peter so that she could meet his eyes. "I think everyone feels that way. Supposedly, there's someone out there for everyone, but I have yet to meet the person who remains confident their whole life that it'll happen for them. And sometimes..." She trailed off, catching herself before she completed the thought. While she didn't mean it to be a downer, she had almost referenced that in cases like her own, sometimes it took more than one try to find The Person. God only knew that she thought she had gotten it right the first time, with her marriage. "But you and Sarah found each other, and I'm so happy for you both, for that."
Her expression clouded over as he described the world he had come from. While his wording was vague, she got the picture. "I think I know what you mean, on some level," she told him with a somber nod. "I don't ever want to go back, either, to where I'm from? I mean, my parents are there, and I do miss them, but...when I came here? I was....it wasn't pretty. But so much has happened, and I feel like my life is finally falling into place. Here. In L.A. Despite the vampires and the Apocalypses, and the...dying." Her brow furrowed for a moment. "It's like you said, you make the choice."
She glanced back over to Peter. "It just scares me to know that at any time, I might get sent back as abruptly as I came to be here."
Peter smiled lightly, letting his hands drop back into his lap. "I don't know about there being only one person for everyone. There's people out there that can make things feel so right. Something like me and Sarah... God, it defies rational thought. I've been in love before, but the only one who ever came close to this, was... was Simone." His gaze shifted, looking out the window. "She knew me before my life changed. And she stayed with me after. As long as she could. I don't know if it would have lasted, or how far her accepting of me would go. Her... ex, was a painter and a herion addict. Isaac and I had a fight. I was in a jam, and he chased away the only person who had been willing to help me. We argued, and... It happened so fast. I was trying to stay out of his aim, she came in the door, he fired. Two shots, one through her heart. She died in my arms." The memory was still painful, but the vicious edge of grief had dulled to a soft ache over time.
A week later, his world had become hell.
When Cathy hesitated over the 'dying', Peter turned back to her, and gently wrapped one of his hands around one of hers. "I've died before," he said, one corner of his lips quirking into a smile, the amusement in his eyes making it impossible to tell if he was joking or serious. "It gets old." Still, the grip when he squeezed her hand was one of comfort and understanding. But then when she spoke again, admitting her fear, the lazy smile slid from his expression.
"You're here now, Cathy," Peter said, his eyes growing serious. "Under my protection. Anyone who tries to take you away from here is going to have to answer to me for it."
Cathy fell silent as Peter spoke, taking in his every word with earnest sincerity. He was opening up to her, she recognized, in a way that not many had upon her arrival in the city, allowing the new friendship a solid foundation. While she did cherish that, she found herself a little confused by the ambiguity of his word choice. Not acquainted with Peter's history, ignorant to any of his special abilities, Cathy had no idea what exactly was meant when he said that his life had changed, or that he needed 'acceptance' from the people closest to him. Even so, she refrained from interjecting, allowing him to speak what was on his mind, her expression falling at the description of how Simone had died.
"I'm...so, so sorry," she told him, reaching over to lay a hand on his arm. Even if it had been some time ago, she couldn't imagine that a person would ever completely recover from something like that. Cathy allowed a moment of silence to settle before she spoke up again, her question one of crucial importance when it came to relating to the man sitting at her side. "What happened? I mean, that changed everything for you, as you said?"
A slight, appreciative smile appeared on her face when he reached out to her, and the statement earned a laugh. "It must be the new 'trendy' thing to do," she shot back, rolling her eyes. "It shouldn't take me more than two hands to count every person I know who has a story that starts with 'Well, when I died..." She sobered quickly, however. "I'm sorry, though. That you've gone through that. It's...not fun."
Something in his concluding words, an authority that she didn't quite understand reassured her, made her believe that she was safe. "Thank you," she told him, squeezing his hand in return. "I appreciate that."
Peter was grateful for the reassuring hand on his arm. It made the next part a bit easier to explain. And as much as Peter wanted to keep what they had now, the open and friendly discussion, the way she looked at him like an equal, like anyone else, it wouldn't be fair not to explain. She was Sarah's best friend, and she had a right to know the potential risks involved with being associated with Peter Petrelli.
"I was twenty-six. I learned... that I had abilities. Powers. I could do things that people... shouldn't be able to do." Peter picked up the hand that wasn't holding hers, and turned it, palm up, fingers curled slightly. There was a soft glow, and then there was a blue flame burning in his hand. Peter squeezed his fingers shut, and the fire was extinguished in a puff of smoke.
He didn't say anything further. He couldn't. The breath was caught in his throat, waiting for her reaction. Waiting for the fear. He was braced for rejection, and it was clear enough in his gaze.
Perhaps to Peter's surprise, the admission of special powers wasn't one that Cathy hadn't heard before. In her time in Los Angeles thus far, she had met a number of interesting people, so much so that she believed that she was among the minority of those who didn't have some sort of special ability. Additionally, after coming face-to-face with a 'colorful' demon named Hank in her own boyfriend's place of business, being bitten by a vampire, nearly attacked by a giant bat, and murdered only to return from the dead by the hand of the God who lived in a nightclub, not much shocked her anymore. And, considering that she trusted Peter with her life and that he showed no intentions of harming her whatsoever, there was not so much as even an inkling of fear in her reaction. Rather, she was slightly transfixed by the flame lighting up in his hand, a smile lighting up involuntarily. Damn it, that was kind of cool!
"Wow," she breathed, looking from his hand back up to his face, holding his gaze even as her expression changed to one of sympathy, confused by the strain in his own features. "That must have been a pretty incredible adjustment."
Relief. Pure, unrestrained relief flowed into Peter and he let out his breath. "It was," he admitted. "Still is sometimes. What I can do... I'm not like others, Cathy. Not even other people with these kinds of abilities. I can absorb them from others. They become part of me, forever. Back in my world, we were being hunted down. Imprisoned. Experimented on. It wasn't safe, not for any of us. We couldn't let anyone know we were special."
His lips tugged themselves into a small attempt at a smile. "It's still not something that's very easy for me to talk about. There are certain powers I have that I can't always control. But Sarah adores you, and I want you to be a part of our lives here, so you should know what comes along with that."
Cathy was visibly horrified by the notion Peter presented of himself and those like him having to hide their abilities for fear of being violated. She had become so accustomed to the acceptance and integration of such people in L.A. that she hadn't considered what it must have been like for them at home. It saddened her. "I'm sorry you had to go through that," she told him quietly, letting it rest at that, hesitant to dwell on the topic. If he had more to say, if he wanted to tell her more, than she would gladly offer an ear. However, it wasn't her place to pry, especially when he had outwardly said that he didn't like to talk about it.
"I appreciate that," she replied with a small smile. "I really love you guys. Both of you."
Peter smiled at her, pushing the lingering thoughts of his world out of his mind to return to the time he was spending with his girlfriend's best friend. "It'll take some getting used to," he said, smirking. "Ever hear the term 'cold rage'? Apparently when I get to that point, my nephews break out their ice skates. I also have a tendency to read minds - surface thoughts, mostly - without realizing that I'm doing it."
The cab slowed, and Peter looked up. Seemed like they'd arrived at the shop. He forked over the fare and a decent tip, and helped Cathy out of the cab. "This is the place?" he asked. The window display didn't seem like much, but he still trusted Cathy's judgement.
The mental imagery attached to the first part of Peter's elaboration made her laugh, though she was a little more taken-aback by the fact that he could read her mind. She brushed it off quickly and with relative ease, reminding herself that she had nothing to hide. "Bet that makes you good at telling who stole the last cookie, huh?" she joked mildly, shaking her head and grinning appreciatively as he helped her to her feet.
"This is it," she affirmed, the giddiness beginning to seep back into her voice as she headed for the door, wasting no time in pulling it open and stepping inside. The familiar, slightly musty smell greeted her, and she found comfort there, momentarily distracted. "I love this place."
He shrugged. "Something like that. I try not to use it. I don't want to listen. What goes on in people's minds should be their own. I just... I have to make the effort not to hear." She had brushed off her momentary discomfort with an ease that made Peter smile. He was glad that he'd decided to ask Cathy for her help. This was turning out to be a good idea.
Following her inside, Peter took a moment to do as she had; take a moment, take a breath, and her himself get comfortable. It was easier than he expected. There was a lived-in feel to the place, the sense that the place was cared for and loved. It sparked that smile on his lips again, and he playfully prodded Cathy's shoulder. "Rings," he said, the expression on his face similiar to a child in a candy store.
Cathy had to make a conscious effort to keep from bouncing directly to the back of the store, where the generous selection of jewelery was housed. With a grin, she nodded back to Peter, playfully rolling her eyes. "I remember." The grin on his face was adorable, his energy contagious, and it was all she could do to keep from making a scene. Again.
"This way," she stated, squeezing his arm before starting off in the proper direction, stopping only when she came to the first glass display case.
Peter glanced around a bit as they walked through the shop. It wasn't a place he normally would have stopped in on his own. Even if he had just glanced inside, he likely wouldn't have made it far past the collection of antique Barbie dolls before deciding that this was not his type of shop and left. But with Cathy here, he was letting himself be pulled inside.
She moved unerringly to the display cases, and Peter peered inside, his eyebrows lifting as he looked. The cases weren't organized by stone, metal, or even type. Instead they seemed more fitted with one another, with each case a seperate and unique collection. Each in its own world, with its own history, its own part in the scene.
He was intrigued. And since the rings were scattered throughout, he couldn't simply dismiss one collection over another. Each piece had to be seen for its own worth, as well as its fit to the story.
"I like this place," he said, eyes finding an Egyptian setting with larger stones, hammered metals, and bold colors. Certain cuts, certain colors, he could see the story being told by the items. Isis and Osiris. Set. Horus. Grinning as he figured it out, he moved on to the next case.
"I do, too," she replied, moving along the line of cases, scrutinizing each peace but only stopping for any length of time when something particularly special jumped out and caught her eye. One particular display had her frozen almost immediately, transfixed as she studied the pieces included. In comparison to some of the other, sometimes gaudy jewelery, they were all refreshingly simple; thinner bands, natural-hues, necklaces with delightfully uncultured stones.
"I like this one," she stated, tearing her gaze away from them to look back at Peter. "Don't make fun of me, but it seems almost... 'A Midsummer Night's Dream'-esque." Trust the theatre dork to make that comparison.
The Shakespeare reference had Peter's immediate attention. He abandoned the Atlantis display of pearls and oyster shell he'd been examining, and looked at the case she was frozen in front of. "This is good," he said. "Too bad most of the pieces are in gold. I'd still rather--"
He fell silent, words cutting off abruptly. Tucked away in one corner, set apart from the others, was a ring. The ring. He was sure of it. "That one," he said, pointing to a pear-cut emerald in an elegant white gold band, one small diamond accent doing nothing to take from the beauty of the stone.
Doubt sank in a moment later, and Peter bit at his lower lip, glancing at Cathy. "What do you think?" he asked, nervousness in his tone.
Cathy had begun to nod her head in agreement, a little disappointed in the fact herself, when she caught sight of the ring just as Peter made the exclamation. Instantly, she was in agreement with him--the ring was made for Sarah. It met every requirement that was important to Peter, white gold showcasing a beautiful emerald, but it was also simple and classy. It made a statement, and she had no trouble at all picturing the ring on her best friend's finger.
"I love it," she told Peter without hesitation, raising her eyes to beam at him. "She'll love it." A beat. "What do you think?"
Hearing the same thread of giddiness in her voice as Peter felt in his own, he grinned. "I think it's perfect for her." He glanced up, looking towards the proprietor who had been casually watching them as she tended to her duties. The woman headed towards them, and Peter pointed to the ring again. "That one," he said.
The woman smiled. "Excellent choice, sir. Shall I polish and wrap it for you?"
That thrill of nervous excitement went through Peter again. He was buying an engagement ring. "Polish, sure," he said. "But I just need it in a box." The woman gave him a knowing smile and went to the polishing equipment. Peter turned to Cathy. The expression in his eyes seemed lightly dazed. "I'm buying an engagement ring," he said, as though trying to convince himself it was true.
Cathy failed to notice that her hands were excitedly clasped over her mouth as she watched the interaction between Peter and the proprietor, barely containing the smile. When he finally turned back to her, at first she could only nod, trying to contain herself before she went and threw her arms around his neck.
...Which, she did anyway. "Congratulations! I'd ask how you plan on doing it, but I kinda want it to a genuine surprise when Sarah tells me, or else it's gonna be really anticlimactic for her, and who wants that?"
Peter laughed, wrapping his arms around her and picking her up for a moment as he hugged her. "Honestly," he admitted, "I'm not sure yet. But I know I need to talk to Toby first. It's important. I want him to understand I'm not taking his sister away. He's practically family already, but I need him to know."
The woman came back, placing the ring on the counter, sitting in a velvet-lined ring box. Perfect. Peter paid for the ring, and then picked up the box, looking at the ring inside. "Wow."
"You're asking Toby?" There was no hiding how adorable Cathy found that fact to be, even before Peter explained exactly why. Sobering up, she nodded. "I think that's a good idea. Very...respectful." She smiled. "He'll appreciate it, I'm sure."
She watched Peter take in the ring, wishing she had a camera to capture that moment. "I can't believe you found The Ring on the second try," she marveled. "Talk about luck. Or divine intervention, or something. It's flawless."
Peter flushed, feeling the heat on his cheeks as they turned pink. "I dunno about luck," he said. "But if you hadn't agreed to come with me, I never would have considered looking in here." Impulsively, he leaned in and gave her a light kiss on the forehead. "Thank you."