3.18--Nightcall

Shortly after Lachlan's birth, Dasia gets an unplanned visit from Lizzie.  It's clear that she knows about Dasia and Duncan already, but doesn't plan on saying so.


"So?" Liz prompts impatiently.  "Are you going to tell me the truth or just sit there and stare at me?"


Dasia fidgets uncomfortably.  "Do I really need to say it?"  Lizzie crosses her arms in response and purses her lips.  She's determined and she isn't leaving until she hears the whole story. "Fine." Dasia relents, " I'll give you the summary: Duncan took me out to a bar, we got drunk, we came back and had sex and now I have a son." 

Lizzie sighs sadly and shifts her body language from confusion to hurt.  She can't help feeling disappointed that both of her best friends decided to keep this secret from her.  Hell, Lizzie didn't see Dasia all throughout her pregnancy and had to hear about her new child from Duncan's sister.  "Why didn't you tell me?  I could have helped you - or smacked you upside the head or something."


"I didn't want you to look at me the way you are right now.  I already feel guilty and I don't need anyone else to point out, well..."


Lizzie shakes her head when Dasia trails off and decides it's best to change the subject for the time being. "What's his name?" She asks quietly.


"Lachlan." Dasia smiles.  "The little bugger is quite cute."


"And Duncan? Is he going to help?"


"We - worked it out somewhat, but the details aren't set in stone.  He's made it clear that he's going to be a father to him, so that's enough for me."  She glances in the direction of Lachlan's crib when she hears a faint cry.  "Would you like to meet him?  You are his aunt, after all."


Liz grins.  "I would love to."

Harper and Cedric - a preamble to the "deed."

Post-coitus cuddles.


"How does it feel kissing a grandmother?" Harper teases.


"Probably just as satisfactory as kissing a grandfather." He quirks his eyebrow playfully and Harper laughs.  "You know, tomorrow I'm actually going to look the part." 


Harper pulls him closer and lays her head on his chest.  "And soon after, I'll follow you."  She says, tracing circles on his arm.  "We're getting oooold."


"Eh - we'll be cool seniors.  The kind that sit on their front porches and shoo the kids off their lawn.  Or ramble nonsensically about the good old days - or those pesky youngin's."


"Your definition of 'cool' is questionable."


"Come on - we'll get senior discounts and be able to complain about everything without someone telling us to shut our traps.  It'll be our glory days."


"I hope you're right."

Harper and Cedric take Pacey to the art museum the next afternoon.  Since both Cedric and Lachlan will be stealing some of his spotlight with their joined birthday night, spending some time alone with him felt necessary.  If, at the very least, to make him feel like his birthday is still special despite having to share the celebration with two others.


Cedric glances at Harper, who dons the same confused expression that he's been wearing since they first stepped foot in the museum.  Nothing here was "artistic," so much as random.

Pacey scoffs at his uncultured parents.  They clearly have an unfortunate lack of understanding for true expression.  These pieces are pure, raw emotion and someday he's going to create something just as brilliant.


--------------Birthday Madness--------------

Pacey goes first - who's a spitting image of Cedric.  

Next up, little Lachlan.  Again, his features are much more Duncan than Dasia.  

And lastly, Cedric - who is clearly unimpressed with his new wrinkles.

Since Lachlan's birth, Duncan and Dasia haven't had a chance to talk (not alone, at least).  Despite her best efforts, Dasia was dreading this day.  Sure, they seemed okay and Duncan had certainly stepped up to the plate and helped her as much as he could - but he was still holding back.  Things were both close and distant between them and confusing.  Confusing is annoying and awkward and keeps her up at night wondering - but not anymore.  He can build a wall all he wants - Dasia just wants to know that he is okay and the easiest way to do that is to simply ask.  Right?


"We haven't talked much." She starts, watching his face for any clues as to what he may be thinking and finding her efforts wholly unsuccessful.  He just simply nods - egging her to continue. "Are we okay, Duncan? I mean - we haven't really discussed our relationship."

Duncan rubs the back of his neck - a sign that she knows well from her own family.  He's frustrated.  "I just feel like we're pretending.  Pretending to be friends, pretending to be parents, pretending that we both don't realize that things will never be like they were.  What are we going to do when Lachlan starts asking why his parents aren't married?  That we were together once and then separated?  Or we were just two friends that didn't think of the consequences of their actions? I thought we could make this work for us, but now I'm starting to wonder how we'll tell our son how he came to be." He grumbles angrily. 

Dasia is taken aback.  She's been so wrapped up making sure that Lachlan is being taken care of in the present that she hasn't taken the opportunity to think about the future.  "We tell him the truth." She whispers. "We tell him that we are two people that care deeply for each other and let that emotion take control one night."

"Care deeply?"

It's Dasia's turn to rub the back of her neck - except her reason is out of nervousness.  Talking about relationships and feelings makes her uncomfortable and want to flee - but this isn't someone or something that she can run from or avoid.  This is her family.  "Yes." She mutters. "I care about you - you know that."

Duncan smiles sadly and takes her hand.  She pulls back at first, but he manages to catch it a second time. "Are you telling me there's hope?"

Dasia looks down at their intertwined fingers and gently extracts her hand from his.  "No." She sighs. "I'm telling you that you need to move on."

Duncan lets his hand fall limp to his side and after a short silence, he frowns.  "Okay." He looks dejected and remains by her side for a moment longer, perhaps hoping that she'll take her words back, but she never does. "Okay." He repeats again, and then leaves to rejoin the party.

This is for the best. She mutters. I can't give him what he wants.

-----------------------------------------

ANGST ALERT!!!  Seriously, writing the Dasia/Duncan relationship sometimes makes me really happy and then there are times like these where I just feel like a sadist.


On a random note:
--Cedric's and my definition of what it means to be an awesome senior citizen are strikingly similar. 
--And  guess who's getting a new gaming desktop for graduation?  Go ahead; take a stab. ; )