Fanfiction: National Treasure (PG-13)
Title: The Other Man
Pairing/Characters: Emily Appleton, Patrick Henry Gates, OMC; Emily/OMC, Patrick/Emily
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: National Treasure
Word Count: 2,717
Spoilers: Second film
Summary: Abigail wasn't the only woman with a boyfriend in the second movie.
Notes/Warnings:. Rating for some violence. I asked
unicorn_catcher if she thought Emily and Patrick might have dated during the 32 years apart. We agreed that Emily would have, but not Patrick. So the next question was what sort of man would Emily have dated and how would it have affected things between her and Patrick? Based on those discussions and a fantastic idea from unicorn_catcher, I give you the following. *grin* Beta by unicorn_catcher and many thanks to her for her immeasurable help and hand-holding.
The Other Man
Dr. Emily Appleton absently pressed the button on her answering machine when she returned home from South Dakota, wondering who'd left her messages. The first several messages were from concerned work colleagues, wondering why she hadn't shown up to teach her classes. I was kidnapped and dragged halfway across America to help find the long-lost City of Gold. She shook her head at her moment of whimsy. "They'd never believe that. I can hardly believe it."
Making a mental note to find out who'd taken over her classes once she'd contacted the school to let them know about her unexpected field trip, Emily pressed the button for the next message. "Emily, love, where have you disappeared to? Have you forgotten our plans for Saturday evening?"
"Oh, Basil," she sighed, imagining that her cell phone had dozens of voice mails and text messages from her 'sweetheart' on it by now. Though how much longer he'd be her 'sweetheart' was up for debate now. The recent events in Cíbola had proved to her that she'd never really stopped loving Patrick.
Most of the remaining messages were from Basil as well, growing more frantic and worried each time. The very last message was hurt and defensive, "I just talked to Dr. Marks. He said you'd called the university to tell them where you were. Why didn't you call me? "
"I should have broken things off with him long ago," she muttered, pressing the delete button to erase all of the messages. Basil Dawson Beaumont III was attractive, intelligent, cultured, rich, and used to getting his own way, prone to fits of pique when Emily refused him anything. In the last few months, those fits of pique had grown more frequent as he demanded more and more of her time that she couldn't afford to give him.
She made her way to the bathroom to run a nice hot bubble bath. As exhilarating as it had been to be in on this treasure hunt, she was sore and tired. She changed in her bathrobe while the tub filled, adding Epsom salts to help soothe her aching muscles. Just as she was about to slip off the robe and into the tub, someone began pounding on the front door. Part of her wanted to simply ignore whoever it was and take the damn bath anyway, but she had a pretty good idea who it was anyway and he wouldn't go away if she ignored him. As she walked to the front door, she heard a familiar voice call, "I know you're home, Emily. Let me in!"
"Why, Basil, what a pleasant surprise," she greeted him when she swung the door open. He was a few inches taller than her 5'4" height, muscular and fit, with his graying black hair slicked back from his face. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"
He pushed past her into the house, brown eyes dark with anger. "Why didn't you call me when you got home?"
"Would you believe that I wanted to be alone?" she retorted, closing the door behind him. "The last week has been pretty hard on me."
He folded his arms across his chest and stared down at her. "And what have been doing for the last week? We had plans, you know."
"Yes, I am very aware of these plans." She waved a hand dismissively, wondering how quickly she could get Basil to leave. "Things happened that were beyond my control."
He gave a growl of frustration, grabbing her by the arms and shaking her. "What sort of things? You and Dr. Marks have both been frustratingly vague about them!"
"It's not your concern!" She shouted back, wriggling in his grip. "Let me go!"
He released her arms, but continued to glower. "It is my concern. You are my sweetheart!"
"Not anymore!" She rubbed her arms as she glared right back at him, certain she'd have bruises there. "We're through!"
Basil growled and backhanded her, knocking Emily to the floor. "We're not through until I say we are!"
* * *
Patrick Gates felt too restless to go to bed after Ben left with Abigail. Rather than go to bed, only to toss and turn for a few hours, he decided to go visit Emily. They still had a lot to talk about. She'd spent a majority of the last part of their stay in South Dakota helping to catalogue all the artifacts in Cíbola. It was all Patrick could do to get her to take time out to eat. In the evenings, she barely managed to change for bed before she collapsed into it and fell asleep. He'd made sure she was tucked in safely before he changed for bed and settled in beside her.
That was past now and he hoped they could finally talk. So that's why he was driving over to Emily's house at eleven o'clock in the evening. That and he just felt a strong urge to go see her. When he arrived at the house, he was surprised to see two cars in the driveway, neither of which were Ben's. He could only assume that one of them was Emily's. Patrick parked his car and made his way to the front door. The lights are on. Maybe she hasn't gone to bed yet… When he reached the door, however, the sound of raised voices gave him pause. "You are my sweetheart!"
That made Patrick's heart sink. Sweetheart? Em's dating someone? Morbid curiosity led him to look through the window by the door, giving him a distorted view of Emily's back and the man who was apparently her sweetheart. The look on his face was far from loving or fond. He was clearly angry. Emily's retort gave Patrick hope, "Not anymore! We're through!"
Then the man hit Emily, knocking her to the floor, as he shouted, "We're not through until I say we are!"
Patrick was normally a peaceful man, but that right there made him angry. He'd been taught from a very young age never to hurt a woman. I can't let this go on... He pulled out his cell phone and dialed the police, watching through the window as Emily got to her feet and screamed at the man. "Get out of my house or I'll call the police!"
Already doing that, Em... Patrick smiled wryly to himself. Just then, someone answered his call. "911, what's your emergency?"
"Yes, hello, I'd like to report a domestic disturbance," he responded, forcing himself to sound calm and composed.
* * *
Emily got to her feet, her cheek stinging. "Get out of my house or I'll call the police!"
"Not until you tell me where you were!" Basil yelled back, his hands clenched into fists as he glowered even more fiercely at her.
Having faced down Wilkinson and his gun, Emily wasn't intimidated. "I don't have to tell you anything because I am no longer your sweetheart."
He started towards her, anger and hurt in his eyes. "We were happy together!"
"You were happy," she told him, backing away. "Not me. Not for months."
His mouth tightened. "Why didn't you say anything?"
"I tried, but you didn't listen." Emily backed right up to the door, searching for the knob behind her back. "You never did."
Snarling, he lunged for her. She turned the knob and opened the door at the last moment so Basil fell flat on his face...right at Patrick's feet. Emily was so surprised and stunned to see Patrick that she could only watch as he hauled Basil to his feet, blue eyes flashing with anger, and growled in his face, "You never hit a woman!"
"Haven't you heard of women's lib?" Basil sneered, reaching up to loosen Patrick's grip on his shirt, except Patrick didn't let go. "Let go of my shirt! It's imported silk!"
Patrick pulled his hands away, ripping Basil's shirt as he did. "Women's lib does not give you the right or permission to hurt a woman."
"You bastard!" Basil threw a punch, but Patrick easily blocked it with one arm while throwing a punch of his own with the other hand.
As the other man crumpled, unconscious, at his feet, Patrick grimaced and shook his hand. "I'm getting too old to brawl."
"You're never too old to defend a woman's honor," she replied, carefully stepping over Basil's prone form to hug Patrick. "I'm so glad to see you, Pat."
He returned the hug, burying his face in her hair. "I hope you don't mind my unannounced visit."
"How can I after what you just did for me?" she asked, smiling fondly up at him.
He smiled back, kissing her cheek. "I couldn't do anything less."
A squad car pulled up right about then and they spent the next hour or so giving their statements and contact information. By the time the police officer left with Basil in handcuffs, Emily had her arms wrapped tightly around her waist, hands gripping her elbows, in a vain attempt to stop herself from shaking. Leaning into Patrick's comforting warmth when he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, she murmured, "Is it really over? He's gone for good?"
"If I have anything to say about it, yes." Patrick kissed the top of her head, gently steering her towards the master bedroom. "How did you end up with him, anyway?"
She sighed softly. "He wasn't always such a bastard. When we first met a little over a year ago, he was very charming and sweet. Not to mention very knowledgeable about Ancient American cultures."
"How did that come to change?" he asked as he steered her into the bathroom.
She sat on the closed toilet seat and watched as he let some of the water out of the tub. It would be tepid at best by now. "After about six months, he started telling me what we were doing rather than asking what I'd like to do. If I couldn't do what he wanted, he'd get very upset."
"Did he do anything to you?" Patrick glanced sharply at her as he turned on the hot water, adding more Epsom salts and a liberal splash of her favorite rose- and lilac-scented bath oil.
When he held out his hand to her, she shed her robe and took it, letting him help her into the bath. She sank down into the water with a deep sigh. Looking up at him as he sat on the closed toilet seat, she replied, "No, tonight was the first time Basil hit me."
"I thought as much." He smiled wryly as she luxuriated in the bath. "You wouldn't have stayed with him if he had hit you before."
"You know me well," she replied with a fond smile, pleased that Patrick remembered so much.
Blue eyes met her gray ones calmly and steadily, "I've never forgotten you, Em."
"Why didn't you contact me?" The question escaped before she could stop it, but she refused to look away once it was out. She really wanted to know.
Patrick sighed deeply. "I wanted to, but I had no idea what I'd say: Hi, Em, guess what, we found the treasure! My family's not crazy after all!"
"It would have been a nice start." She laughed softly in spite of herself.
He gestured to her. "Why didn't you contact me? The phones go both ways, you know."
"For the same reason you didn't." She folded her arms on the edge of the tub and rested her chin on them. "I hadn't a clue what to say."
Patrick reached over and lightly caressed her cheek. "Thank goodness for Ben, then."
"Did he make you come with him to see me?" She tilted her head into his touch as she asked the question. It was something else that had been niggling at the back of her mind.
"Yes, even though I really had nothing to contribute." He chuckled quietly.
Emily smiled quietly, making a mental note to thank her son for bringing them back together. "I'm glad he made you come. Seeing you reminded me why we married in the first place and why Basil and I weren't working out."
"Does Ben know about Basil?" Patrick straightened up with a slight wince, one hand going to his lower back.
She nodded. "Yes, and he's never liked Basil."
"Good." He gave a satisfied nod.
Emily rolled her eyes, outwardly exasperated, but inwardly pleased. She'd focused on her work in Cíbola to keep from throwing herself at Patrick while she was still dating Basil. Despite this, he'd still taken care of her and ensured that she hadn't run herself ragged without demanding anything more. It had been a refreshing change from Basil and helped her see more clearly that her relationship with him needed to end. Even if she and Patrick didn't resume their relationship from 32 years ago, she needed Basil out of her life. Stifling a yawn, Emily extended her hand to Patrick. "Could you help me up? I don't want to slip and fall."
"Anything to avoid that." Patrick took her hand and helped her get to her feet and climb out of the tub.
He found the towel she'd set on the counter and, instead of handing it to her, began to briskly yet gently rub her dry with it. "I can do that, Pat."
"I know, Em, but let me do this, please?" Blue eyes met her gray ones pleadingly and she had to give in.
"Very well, but I'd like to state here and now that I got along just fine on my own for years." She felt compelled to clarify that even as she leaned into Patrick's gentle touch.
He chuckled as he finished drying her and handed her the pajamas and underwear that had been on the counter beside the towel. "I have no doubts and, as proof, I will let you get changed on your own."
"Thank you, you're too kind," she commented dryly, even as she smiled up at him.
He chuckled and left the bathroom. Now alone, she quickly dressed, glad she'd chosen the light blue pajama set Ben had gotten her for Christmas when the previous set had fallen to pieces. After the evening she'd just had, she was glad for the comfort of the worn-soft cotton material wrapped around her. When she emerged from the bathroom, she found the covers on the bed turned down and Patrick waiting for her. "Those pajamas look familiar."
"Ben gave them to me years ago," she told him as she approached the bed.
He smiled sheepishly as he admitted, "I helped him pick them out."
"Did you help him pick out all the presents he gave me?" She arched both eyebrows at that.
Patrick shook his head. "No. There were times when Ben didn't need advice, but he knew I was always willing to help if he had no ideas."
"Thank you for that." She stretched up to kiss his cheek.
He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her close. "It was the only way I could think of to give you presents that you wouldn't toss away."
"Let's admit that we were both idiots and let it go," she murmured, stroking his back soothingly.
He nodded, kissing her forehead. "For now, you need to sleep. I know flying drains you and dealing with Basil can't have helped."
"Will you stay with me?" she asked, pulling back so she could look up at him.
Patrick stared at her, caught off guard. "Stay as in what, exactly?"
"Hold me while we sleep?" Emily asked, resting her hands over the steady beat of his heart. "I feel safest in your arms."
He smiled, gently stroking her cheek. "I'd be more than happy to hold you while we sleep."
Relieved, Emily turned to climb into bed, curling up under the covers as she watched Patrick shed his clothes until he wore only his boxers and undershirt. Turning, he slid under the covers beside her. When he opened his arms, she scooted into them gladly, smiling as his larger body curved protectively around hers. Resting her cheek over his heart, she finally gave in to her fatigue and slept. She was right where she'd always wanted to be.
End
Pairing/Characters: Emily Appleton, Patrick Henry Gates, OMC; Emily/OMC, Patrick/Emily
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: National Treasure
Word Count: 2,717
Spoilers: Second film
Summary: Abigail wasn't the only woman with a boyfriend in the second movie.
Notes/Warnings:. Rating for some violence. I asked
unicorn_catcher if she thought Emily and Patrick might have dated during the 32 years apart. We agreed that Emily would have, but not Patrick. So the next question was what sort of man would Emily have dated and how would it have affected things between her and Patrick? Based on those discussions and a fantastic idea from unicorn_catcher, I give you the following. *grin* Beta by unicorn_catcher and many thanks to her for her immeasurable help and hand-holding.Dr. Emily Appleton absently pressed the button on her answering machine when she returned home from South Dakota, wondering who'd left her messages. The first several messages were from concerned work colleagues, wondering why she hadn't shown up to teach her classes. I was kidnapped and dragged halfway across America to help find the long-lost City of Gold. She shook her head at her moment of whimsy. "They'd never believe that. I can hardly believe it."
Making a mental note to find out who'd taken over her classes once she'd contacted the school to let them know about her unexpected field trip, Emily pressed the button for the next message. "Emily, love, where have you disappeared to? Have you forgotten our plans for Saturday evening?"
"Oh, Basil," she sighed, imagining that her cell phone had dozens of voice mails and text messages from her 'sweetheart' on it by now. Though how much longer he'd be her 'sweetheart' was up for debate now. The recent events in Cíbola had proved to her that she'd never really stopped loving Patrick.
Most of the remaining messages were from Basil as well, growing more frantic and worried each time. The very last message was hurt and defensive, "I just talked to Dr. Marks. He said you'd called the university to tell them where you were. Why didn't you call me? "
"I should have broken things off with him long ago," she muttered, pressing the delete button to erase all of the messages. Basil Dawson Beaumont III was attractive, intelligent, cultured, rich, and used to getting his own way, prone to fits of pique when Emily refused him anything. In the last few months, those fits of pique had grown more frequent as he demanded more and more of her time that she couldn't afford to give him.
She made her way to the bathroom to run a nice hot bubble bath. As exhilarating as it had been to be in on this treasure hunt, she was sore and tired. She changed in her bathrobe while the tub filled, adding Epsom salts to help soothe her aching muscles. Just as she was about to slip off the robe and into the tub, someone began pounding on the front door. Part of her wanted to simply ignore whoever it was and take the damn bath anyway, but she had a pretty good idea who it was anyway and he wouldn't go away if she ignored him. As she walked to the front door, she heard a familiar voice call, "I know you're home, Emily. Let me in!"
"Why, Basil, what a pleasant surprise," she greeted him when she swung the door open. He was a few inches taller than her 5'4" height, muscular and fit, with his graying black hair slicked back from his face. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"
He pushed past her into the house, brown eyes dark with anger. "Why didn't you call me when you got home?"
"Would you believe that I wanted to be alone?" she retorted, closing the door behind him. "The last week has been pretty hard on me."
He folded his arms across his chest and stared down at her. "And what have been doing for the last week? We had plans, you know."
"Yes, I am very aware of these plans." She waved a hand dismissively, wondering how quickly she could get Basil to leave. "Things happened that were beyond my control."
He gave a growl of frustration, grabbing her by the arms and shaking her. "What sort of things? You and Dr. Marks have both been frustratingly vague about them!"
"It's not your concern!" She shouted back, wriggling in his grip. "Let me go!"
He released her arms, but continued to glower. "It is my concern. You are my sweetheart!"
"Not anymore!" She rubbed her arms as she glared right back at him, certain she'd have bruises there. "We're through!"
Basil growled and backhanded her, knocking Emily to the floor. "We're not through until I say we are!"
Patrick Gates felt too restless to go to bed after Ben left with Abigail. Rather than go to bed, only to toss and turn for a few hours, he decided to go visit Emily. They still had a lot to talk about. She'd spent a majority of the last part of their stay in South Dakota helping to catalogue all the artifacts in Cíbola. It was all Patrick could do to get her to take time out to eat. In the evenings, she barely managed to change for bed before she collapsed into it and fell asleep. He'd made sure she was tucked in safely before he changed for bed and settled in beside her.
That was past now and he hoped they could finally talk. So that's why he was driving over to Emily's house at eleven o'clock in the evening. That and he just felt a strong urge to go see her. When he arrived at the house, he was surprised to see two cars in the driveway, neither of which were Ben's. He could only assume that one of them was Emily's. Patrick parked his car and made his way to the front door. The lights are on. Maybe she hasn't gone to bed yet… When he reached the door, however, the sound of raised voices gave him pause. "You are my sweetheart!"
That made Patrick's heart sink. Sweetheart? Em's dating someone? Morbid curiosity led him to look through the window by the door, giving him a distorted view of Emily's back and the man who was apparently her sweetheart. The look on his face was far from loving or fond. He was clearly angry. Emily's retort gave Patrick hope, "Not anymore! We're through!"
Then the man hit Emily, knocking her to the floor, as he shouted, "We're not through until I say we are!"
Patrick was normally a peaceful man, but that right there made him angry. He'd been taught from a very young age never to hurt a woman. I can't let this go on... He pulled out his cell phone and dialed the police, watching through the window as Emily got to her feet and screamed at the man. "Get out of my house or I'll call the police!"
Already doing that, Em... Patrick smiled wryly to himself. Just then, someone answered his call. "911, what's your emergency?"
"Yes, hello, I'd like to report a domestic disturbance," he responded, forcing himself to sound calm and composed.
Emily got to her feet, her cheek stinging. "Get out of my house or I'll call the police!"
"Not until you tell me where you were!" Basil yelled back, his hands clenched into fists as he glowered even more fiercely at her.
Having faced down Wilkinson and his gun, Emily wasn't intimidated. "I don't have to tell you anything because I am no longer your sweetheart."
He started towards her, anger and hurt in his eyes. "We were happy together!"
"You were happy," she told him, backing away. "Not me. Not for months."
His mouth tightened. "Why didn't you say anything?"
"I tried, but you didn't listen." Emily backed right up to the door, searching for the knob behind her back. "You never did."
Snarling, he lunged for her. She turned the knob and opened the door at the last moment so Basil fell flat on his face...right at Patrick's feet. Emily was so surprised and stunned to see Patrick that she could only watch as he hauled Basil to his feet, blue eyes flashing with anger, and growled in his face, "You never hit a woman!"
"Haven't you heard of women's lib?" Basil sneered, reaching up to loosen Patrick's grip on his shirt, except Patrick didn't let go. "Let go of my shirt! It's imported silk!"
Patrick pulled his hands away, ripping Basil's shirt as he did. "Women's lib does not give you the right or permission to hurt a woman."
"You bastard!" Basil threw a punch, but Patrick easily blocked it with one arm while throwing a punch of his own with the other hand.
As the other man crumpled, unconscious, at his feet, Patrick grimaced and shook his hand. "I'm getting too old to brawl."
"You're never too old to defend a woman's honor," she replied, carefully stepping over Basil's prone form to hug Patrick. "I'm so glad to see you, Pat."
He returned the hug, burying his face in her hair. "I hope you don't mind my unannounced visit."
"How can I after what you just did for me?" she asked, smiling fondly up at him.
He smiled back, kissing her cheek. "I couldn't do anything less."
A squad car pulled up right about then and they spent the next hour or so giving their statements and contact information. By the time the police officer left with Basil in handcuffs, Emily had her arms wrapped tightly around her waist, hands gripping her elbows, in a vain attempt to stop herself from shaking. Leaning into Patrick's comforting warmth when he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, she murmured, "Is it really over? He's gone for good?"
"If I have anything to say about it, yes." Patrick kissed the top of her head, gently steering her towards the master bedroom. "How did you end up with him, anyway?"
She sighed softly. "He wasn't always such a bastard. When we first met a little over a year ago, he was very charming and sweet. Not to mention very knowledgeable about Ancient American cultures."
"How did that come to change?" he asked as he steered her into the bathroom.
She sat on the closed toilet seat and watched as he let some of the water out of the tub. It would be tepid at best by now. "After about six months, he started telling me what we were doing rather than asking what I'd like to do. If I couldn't do what he wanted, he'd get very upset."
"Did he do anything to you?" Patrick glanced sharply at her as he turned on the hot water, adding more Epsom salts and a liberal splash of her favorite rose- and lilac-scented bath oil.
When he held out his hand to her, she shed her robe and took it, letting him help her into the bath. She sank down into the water with a deep sigh. Looking up at him as he sat on the closed toilet seat, she replied, "No, tonight was the first time Basil hit me."
"I thought as much." He smiled wryly as she luxuriated in the bath. "You wouldn't have stayed with him if he had hit you before."
"You know me well," she replied with a fond smile, pleased that Patrick remembered so much.
Blue eyes met her gray ones calmly and steadily, "I've never forgotten you, Em."
"Why didn't you contact me?" The question escaped before she could stop it, but she refused to look away once it was out. She really wanted to know.
Patrick sighed deeply. "I wanted to, but I had no idea what I'd say: Hi, Em, guess what, we found the treasure! My family's not crazy after all!"
"It would have been a nice start." She laughed softly in spite of herself.
He gestured to her. "Why didn't you contact me? The phones go both ways, you know."
"For the same reason you didn't." She folded her arms on the edge of the tub and rested her chin on them. "I hadn't a clue what to say."
Patrick reached over and lightly caressed her cheek. "Thank goodness for Ben, then."
"Did he make you come with him to see me?" She tilted her head into his touch as she asked the question. It was something else that had been niggling at the back of her mind.
"Yes, even though I really had nothing to contribute." He chuckled quietly.
Emily smiled quietly, making a mental note to thank her son for bringing them back together. "I'm glad he made you come. Seeing you reminded me why we married in the first place and why Basil and I weren't working out."
"Does Ben know about Basil?" Patrick straightened up with a slight wince, one hand going to his lower back.
She nodded. "Yes, and he's never liked Basil."
"Good." He gave a satisfied nod.
Emily rolled her eyes, outwardly exasperated, but inwardly pleased. She'd focused on her work in Cíbola to keep from throwing herself at Patrick while she was still dating Basil. Despite this, he'd still taken care of her and ensured that she hadn't run herself ragged without demanding anything more. It had been a refreshing change from Basil and helped her see more clearly that her relationship with him needed to end. Even if she and Patrick didn't resume their relationship from 32 years ago, she needed Basil out of her life. Stifling a yawn, Emily extended her hand to Patrick. "Could you help me up? I don't want to slip and fall."
"Anything to avoid that." Patrick took her hand and helped her get to her feet and climb out of the tub.
He found the towel she'd set on the counter and, instead of handing it to her, began to briskly yet gently rub her dry with it. "I can do that, Pat."
"I know, Em, but let me do this, please?" Blue eyes met her gray ones pleadingly and she had to give in.
"Very well, but I'd like to state here and now that I got along just fine on my own for years." She felt compelled to clarify that even as she leaned into Patrick's gentle touch.
He chuckled as he finished drying her and handed her the pajamas and underwear that had been on the counter beside the towel. "I have no doubts and, as proof, I will let you get changed on your own."
"Thank you, you're too kind," she commented dryly, even as she smiled up at him.
He chuckled and left the bathroom. Now alone, she quickly dressed, glad she'd chosen the light blue pajama set Ben had gotten her for Christmas when the previous set had fallen to pieces. After the evening she'd just had, she was glad for the comfort of the worn-soft cotton material wrapped around her. When she emerged from the bathroom, she found the covers on the bed turned down and Patrick waiting for her. "Those pajamas look familiar."
"Ben gave them to me years ago," she told him as she approached the bed.
He smiled sheepishly as he admitted, "I helped him pick them out."
"Did you help him pick out all the presents he gave me?" She arched both eyebrows at that.
Patrick shook his head. "No. There were times when Ben didn't need advice, but he knew I was always willing to help if he had no ideas."
"Thank you for that." She stretched up to kiss his cheek.
He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her close. "It was the only way I could think of to give you presents that you wouldn't toss away."
"Let's admit that we were both idiots and let it go," she murmured, stroking his back soothingly.
He nodded, kissing her forehead. "For now, you need to sleep. I know flying drains you and dealing with Basil can't have helped."
"Will you stay with me?" she asked, pulling back so she could look up at him.
Patrick stared at her, caught off guard. "Stay as in what, exactly?"
"Hold me while we sleep?" Emily asked, resting her hands over the steady beat of his heart. "I feel safest in your arms."
He smiled, gently stroking her cheek. "I'd be more than happy to hold you while we sleep."
Relieved, Emily turned to climb into bed, curling up under the covers as she watched Patrick shed his clothes until he wore only his boxers and undershirt. Turning, he slid under the covers beside her. When he opened his arms, she scooted into them gladly, smiling as his larger body curved protectively around hers. Resting her cheek over his heart, she finally gave in to her fatigue and slept. She was right where she'd always wanted to be.