Who: Charlie and Verity When: Week after Easter Where: Their place What: Talking, Almost more Rating/Warning: Low/None Status: Complete
Verity had been out shopping. It was difficult to carry everything in one trip, so she brought the sleeping baby in from the car first, laid her in her crib, then went back out to the car to start carrying the bags in two at a time. The day was warm and pleasant, and Ver was glad to be out in the fresh air. Sometimes she worried about being cooped up inside the house non-stop with the little baby. It was time to start going to mommy and me class, or something. Give herself something to do besides change diapers and sneak on the computer during baby naps to run the numbers for the joke shop.
Fortunately, she had some live-in childcare, although Charlie didn’t actually think of himself that way. From his perspective, Verity had everything under control. He was just more or less someone who was available to keep an eye on the kiddo when Verity had to take a bathroom break. Although, at the moment, he had spotted her from his bedroom window and was on his way downstairs to help with the groceries.
He dug right in without asking if she needed help. Honestly, he felt bad that Verity was still purchasing things, anything at all, with her own money now that his financial situation had so vastly improved--and that was an understatement. Charlie had turned into a multi-millionaire overnight. But it was complicated, as these situations often are. Having the money didn’t make him the particach of the household. Furthermore, he and Verity weren’t a couple ...so there was that, too. He was still sitting on the money like a hen on an egg, feeling like he was the one about to crack. So, maybe technically he was the egg and it was the money was weighing on him. Either way, he was too stressed about the situation to construct a decent metaphor.
As soon as Charlie joined in, Verity turned to him with a bright grin. She willingly handed over a bag of groceries--the frozen foods, actually--and grabbed the milk herself. “Thanks,” she said. Something like this, the simple act of unloading a large load of groceries from the boot trunk of her car, was so domestic and so comfortable. She couldn’t tell Charlie how much it meant to her that he was there every day. He was there for the diaper changes and the spit-up. He was there for the cooking and the cleaning. He saw her in her sweatpants, not just in her cute, date outfits. She already couldn’t imagine her life without him.
Charlie opened the freezer and began burying the bags inside, one after the other. Perhaps it wasn't odd at all that he was thinking about the same things, but he was definitely lacking the smile on Verity’s face. Charlie's was lately forcing his, trying to hide his growing anxiety. He was twitchy by nature as it was, adding actual things to worry about had turned him into a bundle of exposed nerves.
As for the money he wasn’t spending on her, he also wasn’t spending it on himself. Charlie showed no outward signs of his newfound wealth. He was still wearing the same grungy clothes and nail polish he had applied himself. Not a single dollar had been spent on any new musical equipment, which was especially telling. Although, speaking of telling signs, Charlie wasn’t giving many with his mouth. He hadn’t spoken much about the money since the day it had been wired to his account.
“Oh, good,” he said, lifting a box from a bag. “You got the off-brand fish sticks. I really prefer those.”
Verity nodded. “I remember you mentioned it once that you liked those better, so.” She remembered little things about him, comments he made once, things he mentioned or liked, his mannerisms, that sort of thing. It was probably because she paid attention to Charlie more than she did to other people.
The last of the bags were on the counter, so she closed and locked the front door. Then she set about pulling things out of the bag and putting them away. “I really shouldn’t go shopping when I’m this hungry. I think I bought everything in the store.”
There were the separate groceries and there were the shared ones. Charlie just made a point to somehow keep what he took even with what he replenished. Although chatting about shopping in the kitchen felt so comfortable that it made him pretty uncomfortable. "How was the little turnip?" he asked, meaning Christina.
"She fell asleep on the ride home," Verity spoke softly and fondly about her daughter. "She was a good girl in the store, I think it just drained her." She folded up the brown paper bag to use it again next trip.
Charlie poured himself a glass of water. The two of them talking about the wee one like she was their daughter, instead of just Verity's, made Charlie really happy. It was one thing that was consistent in spite of his awkwardness. "Too much excitement," he said. "The market is a swinging place. "
He could always make her smile. Verity grinned as she brought some grapes to the sink to wash them. It brought her close to him, too, as he'd just poured some water. "It's my destination of choice in a Friday night, obviously."
Without looking at her directly, Charlie chuckled. “It’s where I met you, come to think of it.” Had it been a year, yet? Verity hadn’t been too far along with the baby at the time.
“That’s because we are hip, hip people. Love a swinging good time at the supermarket.” She said, and nudged him with her elbow. Verity finished rinsing the grapes and set them in a bowl on the counter. “Can I make you a sandwich? I’m starving.”
Charlie coughed in response to the nudge, like she had actually winded him. As for the sandwich… “I think I ought to be the one making you lunch. Why don’t you take a load off?” He was still looking every which way but directly at her. It wasn’t too obvious, but still.
“Really? Okay.” Verity said, and moved over to sit at the table in the kitchen. She brought the bowl of grapes with her, and after a second thought, brought a can of Pringles, too. Though she swore to herself that she wouldn’t fill up on grapes and chips. “...Have you decided what you’re going to do… with the money that your brother gave you?”
There was a pronounced hesitation before Charlie responded, enough time to pull lunch meat from the refrigerator for sandwiches. “Well, I’m not going to just order us a pizza, if that’s what you mean.”
Verity might have laughed if she didn’t have a mouth full of grape. She swallowed instead, grinning softly. “I mean, are you going to invest it? Or something?” She had no idea what she’d do if she came into that much money. Probably invest all over the place. Stocks, real estate, businesses… maybe donate a bunch of it to charity?
So far, the only thing Charlie had done was sit on the money. There had been a time long ago when he was wealthy, but since then he had learned to live with next to nothing. He knew he would have to do something at some point, but at the moment he was afraid of making the wrong move.
"Or something, I guess," he said, turning on the oven to cook the aforementioned fish sticks.
Verity wondered if she’d said the wrong thing. She popped another grape into her mouth and chewed while she watched him, settling back in her chair. They didn’t have to talk about it now. Or ever. If he didn’t want to. “Well, let me know if I can help in any way.” She said, then quickly added, “Do you want to watch a movie with me later?”
Caught by surprise, Charlie nearly dropped their lunch. It was an overreaction, to be sure. His anxiety was starting to get on his nerves now. "Um....... sure," he said slowly. "What movie?"
Verity saw his hands shake just slightly and raised an eyebrow. He was acting nervous. She hadn’t noticed before, but it was unmistakable now. She wondered why for a moment. What had changed? “I dunno. Anything, really. Star Wars? The Princess Bride? Pirates of the Caribbean?”
“In the mood for an adventure?” he asked, trying to sound casual as he turned on the oven.
“Hey, those movies have it all. Romance, adventure, comedy…” Verity turned her eyes down to the grapes in her hand, and then popped them into her mouth.
The fish sticks were in the oven, now. Charlie knew that meant he ought to sit down at the table with Verity. He found himself able to do so. He reached for a grape to occupy his hands. “Sure. Whichever you want to watch.” Then he amended his statement. “Pirates of the Caribbean.”
“I love swashbuckling,” Verity said. She reached for the chips--to follow something healthy with something unhealthy. That made sense, right? “I mean, I could watch Johnny Depp and Orlando Bloom play around with swords for hours and not get bored.”
Charlie tilted his head and suddenly a laugh burst out.
Verity blushed and grinned. She hadn’t thought it was that funny… but boy, did she love the sound of his laugh. It felt like home.
He liked the sound of his own laugh, too. Charlie felt much better, now that he had let down his guard for a moment. “You did that on purpose.”
“Did what on purpose?” Verity asked, mock indignantly. There was still a grin on her face. She started to munch on the chips between sentences.
Still grinning, Charlie helped himself to one of the chips. He wasn’t about to give in and get any more explicit. A wink was enough. “Sure, I’ll watch Pirates with you.” He glanced at the stove. “Settle in and I’ll bring you your lunch. Mummy deserves to be served once in a while.”
Verity raised both eyebrows at that. “Really?” Not that she was really surprised, it was just… pleasant. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had someone cook and deliver hot food to her while she was curled up on the sofa. It sounded really nice. “Okay, then. I’ll go put the movie on.” She said, and gave him a bright smile.
In a couple of minutes she was curled up on the sofa with the movie ready to go--paused at the start of the opening credits.
Charlie joined her before much longer, with the fish sticks and sodas. His stomach was knotting. He asked himself what exactly he was getting into. The two of them watching tv on the sofa... it wasn't exactly the first time, but it felt a little like it, for some reason. At least the fish sticks weren't exactly food for getting cozy.
Not exactly the kind of food that one would feed to another on a romantic date. It would have been a very different movie if Lady and the Tramp had been eating Fish Sticks instead of spaghetti. Verity sat up a little when he came in, thanked him for the food, and turned the movie on. They’d be lucky if they made it through without Christina waking.
It had been a while since Charlie had seen the movie. There were parts he didn’t remember. Or maybe it felt new because he was focusing more on Verity beside him. He thought about what she’d said to Hurley when he moved in, how she felt the end of their potential romantic relationship was her fault. Even though she was mostly right, he knew his stubbornness had put the nail in the coffin.
Although…
Charlie munched on his fish sticks.
The movie was almost finished when Christina started to fuss in the bedroom. Verity put down her soda to climb up from the couch so she could go get the baby.
Charlie stood up automatically, too. He looked at Verity, unsure if he had stood just to help her out or if it had been an instinctual thing. A daddy thing. “I’ll get her.”
If Charlie wanted the job, it was his. As far as Verity was concerned, Oliver was biologically Christina's father only. Christina was going to need a daddy. One who wasthere for her every day. Verity nodded, sat back down and paused the movie. "Okay. Thanks."
He was starting to feel twitchy again. Shaking the tension out of his arms along the way helped a little. Christina was thrashing about in her crib, not crying but making it quite known that she wanted out. Charlie picked her up and took a quiet moment. Raising another man's baby, it wasn't an issue for him. Charlie could live there and be a father figure in the house, but... if he wasn't with Verity, what was he, really? He was just a guy living in the house.
He carried Christina into the living room and put a smile on his face. "Here you go. Here's mommy."
It felt good to see Charlie with Christina. Verity broke into a bright smile and accepted the girl into her arms, gasping playfully. "Who's awake? Who's my big girl? Do you need a diaper change?" She bounced Christina in her lap as she settled back down on the sofa.
Charlie scratched the back of his neck and chuckled nervously. Watching Verity take care of her daughter, it kinda turned him on. Was that weird? He was pretty sure it was. She just looked so damn good doing it. He could feel his face heating up. He sat down. "I don't think she's too wet," he said, trying to keep the conversation going.
"Okay, then. We'll take care of that later." Verity laid Christina down on the floor under her baby gym, and leaned back on the sofa to unpause the film. "We have to see what happens to Jack Sparrow." She gave Charlie a smile, noticing that his cheeks were a tiny bit pink.
Damn, he wanted to kiss her. He wanted to dig his fingers into her hair and change everything back to the way it was supposed to be, like pushing rewind.
Charlie worked his jaw. He had to say something. "I'm pretty sure he... um. Fuck it." He was going for it. He was just going to dive in and kiss her.
Only, he didn't. He just sat there awkwardly. And he realized what he had just said sounded extremely random and weird.
Extremely random and weird was right. Verity turned to look at him, torn between being playfully amused and confused. She grinned. "Fuck it?"
"I had a runaway train of thought. I guess." Charlie's turned an even deeper red. "Random. Thoughts."
Great, he was talking like Shatner now. Verity’s grin only brightened. “...all right. If you insist.” She said, raising an eyebrow. “Do I need to worry about you, Charlie?”
Hell, yes. Because he was clearly losing his mind. If he tried to kiss her, would she push him away? Was it wrong to want to kiss her to begin with? Was it gross because they both had fish stick breath?
"Nah," he said. "Worry about me? I don't think so."
Good. Because Verity had a lot of things to worry about as it was. She wasn’t sure she could add Charlie to the list without going a bit nutty herself. She lifted her elbow to gently nudge him with it. “I still will.”
He was back to chuckling nervously as he turned back to the television. Christina was happily playing on the floor. His eyes focused on neither of them. At this point, he was just waiting out the movie, trying not to breathe too much for fear of sniffing Verity’s shampoo.
The credits began to roll, and Verity gave a wistful sigh. She loved the kiss at the end of the movie. It would likely play out to the end of the credits, because Verity needed to pick up the baby and nurse her before she got fussy. She wanted to finish her soda first.
That was Charlie's cue to exit, although he left them alone most of the time when there was nursing going on. Just to give Verity privacy. Right now, he was more worried that he was going to try to sneak a look, and that felt like all kinds in inappropriate.
He got up from the sofa. "I'm going to make some phone calls. Try to figure out what to do with this money."
“Oh. Okay.” Verity nodded. It was important. The things he had to do. And though she would have preferred if he could/would stay and hang out with her, she knew he had important things to do. Most of the time he left her alone to nurse, anyway. “Thanks for lunch. And the movie.”
She got up, too, then bent down to pick up Christina.
Charlie nodded and hoped to God that his smile didn’t look as awkward as it felt on his flushed face. Climbing the stairs, he took them two at a time, certain that if he spent one more minute with Verity, he was going to try to kiss her whether it was a stupid idea or not.
Once again, he had a very big problem on his hands.