FIVE

...::~FIVE~::...

Grace got up carefully, she didn't want to wake Bruce just yet and he was sleeping so peaceful that she couldn't help the little smile that came to her lips. He called her beautiful, his babylove... when he said it, she believed it. It still felt surreal to think of what had happened, how quickly things had changed. She yawned and stretched, fluffing out her sleep tousled golden hair as she walked as quietly as she could to her bag where she'd dropped it by the bedroom door. This tiny little apartment was feeling a lot more like home than she wanted to think about, and she shot him a look as she dug through her bag to make sure he hadn't stirred. Nope, he lay there sprawled and sleeping and she watched him breathing for a moment before she sat on the floor cross-legged and took out the pen and notebook she'd been seeking, her eyes going to the little rosary she'd bought on impulse. She wasn't really sure, not 100% that her Bruce was Catholic, but she kind of thought he'd at least been raised that way with some of the things he said so she'd started learning about it, fascinated by the prayers and ritual trappings if nothing else... and it kind of made her feel closer to him in an odd way.

She hadn't been much for church even as a child, it was just one more place where she felt awkward and stared at, the little girls who were expected to dress up and look like little dolls ruled there just as they did at school. But now, she'd found herself wanting to pray more because she had something to be thankful for, and every single prayer started the same. Thank you, so much for him. Thank you for my Bruce, please watch over him, okay? With a little sigh she uncapped the pen and stared at the blank page, the idea seemed sort of childish really but she didn't care as she started writing with bold strokes the words she wanted before she tore the page out and carefully folded it before writing another, and another. Each one treated the same way, folded and then she put the pen and paper back in her bag as she got to her hands and knees, carefully crawling on the floor over to where his jeans lay in a pool of denim. She knew he'd just get up and slide them on, so that first note was carefully tucked in his front pocket before she crept over to where his jacket hung over the back of the chair. He was good to his leather, and that made her blush as she remembered his little 'pledge' on Twitter, to cherish her as much as he did that fifteen-year-old jacket. The next note was tucked in the inside pocket next to his smokes, and the third in the side pocket where he might find it later. One last note was in her hands and she slipped that one into his boot and tried to hide a giggle with her hands, eyes wide as she shot a gaze over to the bed.

Still sleeping peaceful, and Grace sighed as she rose to her feet. She'd go make coffee, he'd like that, she wouldn't try cooking though because she didn't want him to wake up to a kitchen fire because when it came to cooking, she was flat hopeless. She paused at the bedroom door, looking back at him and she whispered. "I really do."

She was already out of view when Bruce's voice came from the bed, muffled by the pillow. "Ye do wha'?"

She froze in the hallway but couldn't help what came out of her mouth. "Love you!" She hesitated, half wanting to go back and half-scurry into the kitchen.

"Aye," he muttered, rolling over, groaning when his eyes opened to see the daylight creeping around the curtains. "Ken ye do," his chuckle was rough, full of good cheer. "Samesies, love." He called out, not knowing if she could even hear him.

Grace heard and she giggled again, what was it about him, picturing how he'd react to things that could just set her off like that? She lifted her voice just a touch. "You're sweet. I'm going to make coffee, Bruce but I won't get near the stove!"

"Sounds marvie." He pulled the covers over his head, burying his face in the pillow that smelled like her.

Grace sighed happily as she shuffled to the little kitchen, got a couple mugs out of the rack and gathered up the things to make coffee, not realizing she was humming under her breath the whole time. She had on one of his t-shirts over her sleep shorts and it kept riding up every time she reached for something, but it felt nice against her skin. She suddenly blushed bright red at the thought that went with that, just like he does. Still, it was true and she fanned herself while she waited for the coffee to brew.

Unbeknownst to her, Bruce had rolled out of bed, drawn by the sound of her humming. A deep rumble of a chuckle came from his lips before his arm wrapped around her waist, his breath ruffling her hair. "Song's familiar," he murmured, "what's it?"

Grace startled and squeaked from surprise, but smiled at him when she managed to turn in his grip. There was still a hint of that blush on her cheeks, which ended up coming back when she realized what he'd asked. "Oh it's...you'll laugh. But it's a song my Grandmother used to sing. She was from Kentucky, and well, I don't know how to explain it? But I remember them teasing her...'cause lord, honey her accent you just..." her own resurfacing as she thought back. "But it's a folk song, about being in love... with a dark-haired man."

His smile was smug, laughter barely contained as he looked at her, "ah, well... seems a theme, aye? All this lovey-dovey feckin' fluttery nonsense... gonna turn ye into some flighty little hen."

"Can't help it, baby..." Though her eyes narrowed the tiniest bit, like she was trying to picture something before she looked up at him again. "Won't ever be 'little' anything though, so I guess I'm one lucky Grace you like me like this, right?" She carefully moved her hand to tap her fingers against his ribs lightly. "I guess it'd be fair 'nough to say I like all this nonsense too..."

Chuckling, he lifted his hand to the top of his head, measuring his height against hers, shaking his head. "Wee wisp of a thing... lookit how tiny ye are... barely even up tae me eyebrows an' ye wanna talk big-like?"

"I love that I have to look up, to see your eyes...." Grace blurted that out, though she was pretty sure he was well aware of it. "You make me really feel... like I'm not all awkward and too big and...not all." She sort of shrugged, but instead of trying to draw back she actually moved to cuddle in, laying her head on his shoulder. "It's real easy to... shoot, baby. I'm not doing this right, am I? But you really make me feel all fluttery and girly and pretty... just everything. Don't even care if that sounds stupid, because it's true."

"What's right or wrong?" Bruce countered, wrapping that arm around her waist. "Nae judgin', babylove. Brucey gives a lot a leeway on the pretty ones... twixt us? Think yer in good with management." He winked, that grin back on his lips as he laughed again.

Grace was almost breathless with giggles, turning her face toward his shoulder trying to hide them though she peeked at him when she finally got them under control enough to say something. "Well that's a relief..." She paused to take a deep breath, letting it out slowly as she thought about something, a little smile on her lips. "Guess... I'm just trying to get used to being happy. Like, all the time happy... not like 'oh I found five bucks on the ground' happy."

"Fiver's a hell of a windfall. Mebbe moreso than present company?" It was clear he was still joking, even though there was a hint of sadness tingeing that easy laugh of his.

"No way!" Grace exclaimed softly, her arm sliding around his waist. "Five bucks is cool but ...you spend it and it's all gone. But you're mine, see? I get to keep you, right?" Her own tone was wistful, though there was finally a sense of belief to it. "So, you're a whole lot better than just that."

"High praise." Bruce replied, "hell of an endorsement...should put it on me resume. 'Worth more than a fiver according to Miss Gracie LovelyLocks'."

"Bruce!" Grace smiled and leaned up just a little to kiss him. "Way, way more than a fiver, you."

The look he gave her was sober, suddenly serious. "Aye. There's the flutter."

"That's only fair." Grace lifted one of her hands, her fingertips gently tracing over his eyebrows, down his right cheek, brushing over his scar and then to his lips, and rested there. "At least you understand, when I say...pretty much anything."