Love and Honor

By Ares
PG

Summary: How would an ordinary woman, (you or me) react at meeting a tall, dark, and gorgeous brooding stranger?

A big thank you to Jo, without whom, this tale would be grammatically incorrect and unavailable, and to Deb for laughing in all the right places.

**


Women did not sweat; they glowed, at least according to her mother. Men perspired and horses sweated. Well then, she was a horse. Moisture was dripping from her armpits, racing the liquid that ran from under the swell of her breasts. She thinks she should have stayed home and made a date with her air-conditioner. No, her inner moppet was going stir crazy and besides, she wanted to check the new stock of books at her local shop.

The Written Word, an apt name for a seller of books, was a little unusual. The entire place was strange, in a weird kind of way. She stood before the new door a moment and considered the modern façade. The large window and brick veneer screamed ordinary, but she knew better. Too hot to tarry, she entered the establishment, felt the waft of cooler air, sighed with relief and shut the door behind her.

Honor turned and stepped into a different world. The shop looked like it had dropped straight out of a Harry Potter novel. The lighting was barely adequate, not the bright glaring brilliance of most modern retailers – the large window was tinted, allowing little light – even so, she was able to read the titles beneath muted bulbs. She traversed the one and only step that bridged the entrance to the lower floor, and found herself amongst shelves that groaned with used and new books. The books overflowed onto tables that sat haphazard about the floor. Carefully, she stepped past the paperbacks sitting scattered on the floor, the leftovers of previous shoppers. There were books of every description, and with the books came the musty smell that was unique to leather and paper. Honor was sure that somewhere in the ordered chaos, dust lurked. She hadn’t seen so much as a speck of dust, the books, old and new, were as clean as a whistle. That was impossible. No-one could possibly clean the amount of reading material gathered here.

She headed for her favourite corner pulling at her sundress, the material peeling away from her skin in silent protest. She loved a mystery and always chose a book that she hoped would challenge her. Tonight she needed something to take away the boredom. She perused Ruth Rendell, Kathy Reichs, discounted every book and moved on. She chose a new Patricia Cornwell that stared at her from a nearby table, and moved onto the fantasy section. A new Terry Goodkind caught her eye and she stayed there, absorbed, all the while enjoying the air-conditioning.

Her arms full, Honor made her way to the counter and the waiting salesperson. He had replaced the previous girl a few months back, in fact the whole store had been refurbished into this creepy-fairytale version of a bookshop about the same time.
His eyes crinkled behind his glasses when he smiled at her. She liked him and yet she did not know his name.

“Back so soon?” he asked. It had only been a week since her last visit.

Her social life was non-existent and she didn’t care - much.

“What can I say?” She smiled and placed her books on the counter. One dislodged and she scrambled to stop it from falling. A large hand plucked the book right out of the air. Her eyes travelled from the book in hand and up the arm as it deposited the book atop her pile. The arm became a shoulder, a very wide shoulder - make that two - and they disappeared with a broad back into the gloom of the premises.

“Thank you,” she called but she doubted he had heard. She frowned. There was something odd about him and she hadn’t so much as caught a glimpse of his face.

Honor looked back at the bespectacled man, her brow still furrowed. His smile was still in place, polite. She paid him and went to leave. She hesitated at the door and turned back. Light reflected off the salesman’s glasses, he was watching her. She dared a pace towards the unseen customer, and stopped.

Berating herself, Honor backed up and left the store. Outside, she remembered why she had thought the man odd. The heat hit her, reminding her that he had worn a coat. A *coat* for God’s sake! In this inferno? She shook her head and hurried for home.

***

A week later she was back in the shop, the heat a little less, with books to exchange. That was the other thing that seemed odd. The Written Word not only sold new and old books, it exchanged them too. Honor could never afford to buy and keep all the books she read. Her bookcase was already over-filled, and so reluctantly, she decided to part with some of her least favourite reads.

The man at the counter smiled and bid her welcome. Honor shoved the books down and waited for his answer. While he picked through the novels, she glanced about the gloomy interior and wondered if the stranger was about.

A polite cough brought her attention back. The shopkeeper nodded his approval.

“Three,” he said and to her surprise, he added, “I’m Sebastian by the way.”

“Sebastian.” She hesitated. It was polite to offer one’s name when another gave theirs, and it wasn’t as if he was a complete stranger.

“Honor.” She held out her hand.

Sebastian gave her a long look, shook her hand - his fingers were long and slender - and the shake was firm. “A pleasure.”

Honor took back her hand with a frown. “You’re accent?” she asked.

“English,” he supplied with a deprecating smile.

Honor decided she really liked him. He was a little older than her, in his early thirties she thought, and he took care of his appearance. Sandy hair crowned a face that had the pallor of one spent indoors, his eyes were a smiling blue behind the square lenses.

Honor took the plunge and asked, “There was a man…last week…in a coat.” God! She was pathetic. Sebastian probably had hundreds of customers and wouldn’t remember this particular one.

“Coat?” the Englishman replied, his eyes staring at her in confusion.

She sighed, “Never mind,” and walked away. She did not see him follow her progress, his eyes watched with a keenness she had yet to see.

She couldn’t help looking about, knowing she was being silly. She hadn’t even seen the stranger’s face and he may have been the occasional shopper, on his way to somewhere else. She loved a mystery though and it played on her mind.

Three weeks later, Honor had almost forgotten the ‘man in the coat,’ her budding friendship with Sebastian keeping her occupied. She had been wrong about him, he wasn’t the help; he owned the store. She wondered when he was going to ask her out. Never, she thought, at the rate he was going. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t dropped a hint or three. Sheesh, did a woman have to beg?

Two books went into her new *green* bag. It was blue, not green, and yet, it was a green bag. The world had decided that plastic was out and green was in, the retailers’ idea of saving the environment. She wandered about, glanced at titles she had no inclination to pick up let alone read, and found herself in the horror section. Stephen King territory, Dean Koontz and their ilk. A whisper so faint had her glance sideways, and Honor found herself staring at – and not quite believing – the man in the coat. Her heart thudded loudly in her ears. Where had he come from? She was sure that he had not been there a moment ago.

His back was to her as he scrutinized the shelves before him. She glanced up at the sign, Poetry. Her gaze lowered and she saw him pluck a book off the shelf and place it with the two heavy tomes in his other hand. She had time to give him the once-over knowing he did not know she was there. He was tall, built, if his shoulders were any indication, dark of hair and she hoped, young. His hand and the minute column of bare neck she could see rising from his collar were pale. Honor stood there wondering what to do, or what she would do if he turned. She looked down at her shoes for a moment trying to find the courage to walk over and say something to him. When she looked up, she blinked. He was gone.

How was that possible? She hadn’t heard him move. She whipped her head around at the sound of Sebastian’s voice. A dark shape loomed near the register. Honor trotted as fast as she could towards the entrance of the store, praying that the shape was her mystery man. It was, and he was making for the door.

Honor could have screamed. She was not going to see his face: again! She stumbled and her bag flew from her hand as she tried to stop herself from falling flat on her face. A strong hand caught her; another cupped her elbow and helped steady her.

“Thank you,” she panted in embarrassment.

She looked up and all breath left her lungs. Dark eyes stared into hers. A shock of dark hair stood stark against, oh-so-perfect features. The man was fucking gorgeous! Honor heard the thud of her jaw hitting the floor and she knew she was drooling. She couldn’t do anything but stare.

The face turned and lowered, and thick hair brushed close to her face. She felt her fingers fold around the strap of her bag, other strong fingers closing them for her.

“Are you okay?” His voice was just as beautiful as the body that housed it. Honor knew that she had died and gone to heaven.

She could only nod, her mouth refused to articulate anything that would sound like a word, at least a word that resembled any known language.

The stranger straightened - God he was tall – his lips quirked into a slight smile and he left in a swirl of black coat. Honor stared after him, unable to move.

An English voice intruded. “Are you alright?” it asked – Sebastian asked.

Honor closed her mouth with a snap and moved her head as if in slow motion. So, her motor functions still worked.

Her mouth opened and closed a couple of times before she managed to squeak, “Who was that?”

The smile that Sebastian gave her it seemed to Honor, was one you gave to a small child; indulgent.

“Angel.”

She blinked and resisted the urge to put her finger in her ears and squirrel out the wax embedded there.

“Angel?” She really had died and gone to heaven!

“He’s…not…an Angel?” Please?

“No, it’s just Angel.”

She noticed – in her dazed state, it was a wonder she noticed anything at all - Sebastian slide three books off the counter and put them beneath. A glimpse of a title told her little. She did not recognise the characters.

Honor swallowed hard and attempted a move. To her surprise her legs obeyed. Wobbling at the knees, she headed towards the Englishman.

“That’s the man…in the coat, the one I asked you about,” she stammered.

“Oh!” Sebastian had the grace to look chagrined. “I did not think…”

“You know him?” Great use of English she thought.

“He’s a regular.”

Thank God!

Honor’s mouth did not know when to stop embarrassing her. “Do you know where he lives?”

Sebastian blinked, owl-like behind his lenses.

“Why?”

Honor thought he sounded disappointed. Well, he’d had his chance and now she had her sights set on the tall, mysterious, Angel.

“Well…” what could she say?

His grin disarmed her. Sebastian shrugged and said, “He has that effect.”

“Will he be back tonight? Are those his books? Can I wait?” she babbled like a love-sick adolescent.

“He’s not coming back tonight. He’ll be picking these up tomorrow.”

Her heart lurched. She had work and didn’t finish until 5.

“Oh.”

Sebastian smiled and apparently took pity on her. “He usually comes after dark.”

Honor banged her books against the hard surface of the counter. “I’ll take these,” she said, relief so pitifully obvious in her voice.

The Englishman nodded, and she placed them back inside her green bag.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she sang as she exited the building. She did not hear his reply in her excitement.

***

The day dragged by at the hospital where she worked. Honor loved her job, she looked forward to every day. Tonight, she had something far more exciting on her horizon and she just wanted the day to end.

At home, she took special care with her hair, the copper highlights really shone as she brushed the tangles out. Most of her wardrobe lay across her bed, unchosen in disarray. Her cat, Biscuit, was lost beneath it all, his tail and ears the only sign that he existed and the ginger hair that adorned the material. She sniffed and stood with hands on hips. This wasn’t even a date, but a girl had to look her best. Honor glanced at the mirror again and this time her shoulders sagged. Who was she kidding? She was no great beauty, a little bony for some tastes and of mid-height. Her butt hit the bed. He, on the other hand, probably had women at his beck and call, and would not notice one such as she. Her head went into her hands.

A short skirt and camisole top later, Honor found her feet treading the asphalt that led to The Written Word. She had decided that she would play it cool. She only wanted to meet the guy, not have his babies – yet. She knew that she was being silly and immature. She was 28 for goodness’ sake and she should behave as such. A tall, dark shape caught her eye, the flow of dark wool familiar as it disappeared round the opposite corner.

She hurried after, not at all daunted. It was early, there were plenty of people about and the street was well lit. It wasn’t the best part of town, nor was it the seediest and she felt safe. Honor spotted his dark hair and yard-wide shoulders and followed him through the small crowd of pedestrians. He drew her as if he were a magnet. She pursued his tall shape for several blocks before she lost him. Damn!

Honor surveyed the street she was in. The high rises stared down at her. She was near to the civic centre. She wasn’t afraid of the dark, and yet a small spark of survival instinct urged her to go home. She refused to listen; she still had hopes of finding her elusive mystery man.

A few people were wending their way towards a well-lit building. She allowed herself to be pulled along in the undertow, and found inside an exhibition. It was a display of modern gadgets, technology in all shapes and sizes. Her interest piqued, although she was no techno-girl, she wandered around the stalls for something to do. It was air-conditioned and not too crowded. Honor mooched around looking at things she did not understand or could ever afford, smiled at the earnest promoters and moved on. Behind one stand, a man stood who gave her the creeps. His shiny reflective glasses followed her every move and she did not like or understand what he was selling. The small display he had looked like models fashioned into the small shapes of insects, and they crawled about in a glass display case. Yuk! Some looked like cockroaches and she hated cockroaches.

A stall that sold sodas sat at the end of one of the aisles. Honor bought one and sat on a nearby seat to rest her weary legs. It was time she gave up and headed for home.

A soft silky voice whispered in her ear, “You’ve been following me.”

Surprised, a mouthful of Coke spurting from her lips, Honor twisted about to see her mystery man beside her. His dark eyes pinned her to her seat, - she was reminded of a raptor’s gaze – her heart sped up and an odd thrill travelled along her spine.

She couldn’t look away; she was caught fair and square. She waited for him to continue and when it looked like he had turned to stone, she fumbled for a tissue, wiped her lips and stammered, “S-s-sorry.”

Something changed and his eyes warmed.

“Why?”

She shrugged, embarrassed. “I wanted to meet you…I mean…we’ve met but not properly. I’m Honor.”

A dark brow lifted. “Honor.”

She waited for him to say his name.

“It’s unusual. A family name?”

“My grandmother’s.” Honor drew in a deep breath. “I know this looks bad, me stalking you…I saw you in the street and wanted to, I don’t know, say hello or something, and then I lost you and how did you know I was…?” babbling.

“I saw you.”

He did? When?

“Honor. It’s a good name.” His eyes flicked away, releasing her from their spell, and she could see him scanning the crowd. She drank in his beauty while his eyes were busy elsewhere. The slant of his cheekbones led to deep brown eyes so dark one could drown in them. They were framed by long lashes beneath elegant brows. His skin was smooth, as pale and as perfect as marble. The nose was straight and ended above fine sensual lips that promised divine kisses. This was one heavenly man. She managed a whisper.

“You’re…”

He looked back. “Angel.”

And there it was: his name. She knew it of course, but there was something about the way he said it. Honor felt giddy.

“That’s unusual,” she said, throwing his words back at him. She glanced down at her audacity. What was wrong with her? She was not the flirtatious type, and yet here she was, flirting.

She heard, “Wait here.” When she looked back at him, he was gone.

She blinked. For a large man, he was a ghost for all the noise he made. She sipped at her Coke and waited. She was not going anywhere. Uh-uh!

Honor did not know how long she sat there, but it felt like an eternity. She watched people go by, and played her favourite game of trying to put a history to the faces. Mr I-am-God’s-gift-to-women wandered by, his arm slung around his girlfriend with possessive ease. He could be a pimp or drug dealer with the gold chains that glittered around his neck. The hunched balding guy, she thought, looked like a hounded accounting clerk, and the gangling pimpled youth screamed ‘gamer’ at her as he sloped past.

The empty can of Coke dangled from her fingers and was about to hit the bin. She had decided she was going to hit the road when he reappeared. Thank God! She threw the can into the trash and smiled up at him. She did not know where he had been, his hair was a little mussed. She noticed things like that, especially on handsome men.

“Can I walk you back?” he asked.

She wanted to squeal you can walk me anywhere, but instead, she accepted demurely. “Thanks. I hope that I am not interfering with your night out?”

“No, my business here is done.”

Honor felt on top of the world. She caught the glances thrown their way as they manoeuvred towards the entrance, and knew that they were not for her. However, her euphoria remained buoyant. Here she was, out, and with a gorgeous man at her side. The girls at work would not believe her when she told them.

Honor walked a step ahead, very aware of Angel behind her, the aisles sometimes too narrow for two people not on intimate terms. She noticed in passing the creepy man with the sunglasses had packed up his wares and departed.

He opened the door for her and she murmured, “Thanks.” He had manners too. Was there anything about this guy that wasn’t perfect?

Angel stepped to her right, and trod the path beside the road.

“The bookshop, right?”

She peered up at him. Had he just recognised her?

“Yes, the bookshop.”

Did she imagine the hint of a smile?

“Do you want to go back to the bookshop or would you rather I walk you home?”

Oh! “The bookshop will do…unless you want to get a coffee?” she blurted, her heart racing in anticipation. No way was she having him back at her place; she hadn’t had time to tidy up.

He turned his soul-searching gaze on her and she swallowed nervously.

“Coffee.”

She nodded. “Or tea if you prefer. I hear tea is good.” Great Honor, stammer away and show him how much of a fool you are.

He graced her with a smile that, if it was even possible, enhanced his beauty.

“Okay.”

Resisting the urge to fist the air by clasping her hands behind her back, her grin betrayed her delight.

Two streets from the bookshop they sat in a small diner. He sipped a cup of black tea; she spooned the froth of her cappuccino and nibbled a slice of carrot cake. Her favourite.

Honor chattered about her life, nervous in his company. She told him about her work at the hospital, ward clerk, and how she enjoyed talking to and helping the patients there. Her education had not included a medical degree. Her best friend and moggy, Biscuit the cat, got a mention when she noticed the hair that still clung to her top. All the while Honor stared at Angel’s hands, because she found she couldn’t speak faced with that incredible countenance. She watched as he lifted the cup to his lips, his long, elegant fingers wrapped the china in its entirety. Honor loved his hands, they were big and looked strong, and she imagined the sorts of things he could do with them. Her face coloured at the thought.

All too soon she realised her plate contained only the crumbs of her dessert, her coffee cup was empty, and she knew nothing about her companion sitting opposite.

“I’m sorry, I know I talk too much,” she apologised. “Everyone says so. I don’t even know what you do?”

“Do?”

“For a living.”

His lips twitched upwards.

“Have I said something funny?” she asked, puzzled.

“Not really. I’m sorry, it’s just…” he paused and she held her breath. “I’m an investigator.”

An investigator? She said aloud, “As in a Private Investigator?”

“Something like that.”

Her eyes tracked his face and body. “I would have said, male model.”

He showed all his teeth in a smile that dazzled. There was no doubt in her mind. This man had fallen from heaven, his smile was definitely divine. Delicious warmth infused her very being. Kill me now, she thought.

He chuckled

“What do you investigate?” she asked, curious.
.
“Anything and everything.”

He had the knack of saying something which told her nothing. Honor bit her lip and held her tongue. No easy task.

“Finished?” he asked.

“Uh, I guess so.”

Angel threw some money on the table and stood, waving away her protest of sharing the bill.

Honor glowed with pleasure and allowed him to open the door.

They walked in silence the two blocks to The Written Word. Delaying his departure, she asked, “Do you live around here?”

“Nearby.” He looked through the dimly lit window before turning back to her.

“Are you sure you will be alright walking home?”

“I’ll be fine, really. Thank you, Angel. I’m sorry about the whole stalker thing. I don’t know what came over me. You’ve been very kind.”

He ducked his head in a way she found boyish and really cute.

“Good night,” he whispered, and he turned and walked away.

“Don’t you want your books?” she called after him.

She heard his reply as he melted into the night.

“Later.”

Honor walked home, a smile on her face. It wasn’t until she turned the key to her apartment building that she had the feeling of being watched. She turned about and looked into the street. She saw nothing untoward. The street was deserted. The cars parked nearby, sat silent and empty.

***

The next day was Saturday, and Honor was up early cleaning her apartment and doing her washing. It was chores day, something she did not relish. Today, however, she accompanied the radio with her voice, singing off key not caring a lick. Biscuit sat staring at all the activity, safe on the armchair by the window. The Written Word did not open until twelve and she needed to keep occupied while the hours ticked slowly by.

Congratulating herself on her self-restraint, she crossed the threshold at one, hoping to interrogate Sebastian about the mysterious Angel. There was another face at the till, a stranger’s face and she halted, surprised.

“Can I help you?” the new face asked.

Honor studied the young man; he was only a few years younger than she. The letters emblazoned across his sweatshirt announced his college to all. Stanford! His blue eyes gazed back at her, his pinched face not unfriendly beneath wheat coloured hair.

“Oh. I was looking for Sebastian.” Honor’s eyes darted about trying to see past all the shelves and books.

“He’s out.”

Her eyes slid back to the boy’s. “Out. I didn’t think he ever went out.”

The boy snorted and rolled his eyes.

“Do you know when he will be back?”

The boy shrugged his shoulders and Honor wanted to shake him. Instead, she mumbled, “Thanks,” and ventured into the shop proper.

Oh well. All was not lost. She would have to pump Sebastian for information about Angel later. She would not let the brash young man rattle her. She would settle in for a bit, and leave when it suited her and not because she felt like a fool.

Several customers came and went; she barely lifted her head from the paperback she was engrossed in. Honor sat in one of the many comfortable chairs that begged for attention hidden away in a corner. She wished for once that this was one of those modern stores that sold coffee as well.

A commotion at the door, and a familiar accent filtered through her mindscape of dragons and warriors.

“Any luck?” the young man asked.

“No. I asked around the usual places…” Sebastian trailed off when he caught sight of Honor advancing.

“He can take care of himself,” the young assistant muttered.

“Still…” the Englishman’s frown disappeared when Honor neared. “Honor, how are you?”

She looked at the two men and wondered what the problem was. It was obvious that they did not consider it her business. She, however, did not care.

“I’m fine, thank you for asking. Have you lost someone?”

“A…” the young man didn’t get to finish his sentence.

“A customer. He hasn’t turned up.”

Honor looked at the Englishman. “And this is a problem, because?”

The young man answered her instead. “He’s old, ancient, and decrepit. He should have kicked the bucket eons ago. It’s a miracle he is still tottering about.”

Honor looked askance at the young assistant.

“That’s enough!” Sebastian all but growled. The hint of a smile belied his displeasure.

The young man acquiesced with a smirk.

“We worry about him. Now, what can we do for you today?” Sebastian asked changing the subject.

She decided to let it go. It was after all, none of her business. Angel, however, was.

“Did Angel pick up his books last night?”

“Last night?” A frown creased his forehead. “No, he didn’t.”

“That’s strange, he said he would.”

“He said…? Angel said?” The boy’s eyes narrowed.

Honor wondered how well the assistant knew Angel.

She nodded. “I…we…he ran into me at a science fair - some technology trade thing last night. He escorted me back to this shop before he left. Angel said he was going to pick up his books later.” She looked at the two men. There was something about the way they looked at her, she felt as if she was a specimen under a microscope.

“Where was this fair?” Sebastian asked his gaze intense.

“Do you want to go and have a look? They have some weird stuff there. One guy gave me the creeps…what?”

“The fair?” He tapped the counter top.

“Oh. It’s near the town centre. You can’t miss it, it has signs up all over the…”

“I’ll go.”

Honor watched the door close behind the young man. She pointed to the door.

“Is he…what’s up with that?”

“Don’t worry about him. You know how young people are these days.”

“Hmmffff!! It’s not as if he’s that much younger than I am!” she complained. The Englishman chuckled, it was infectious and she laughed.

“Tell me all about your evening,” he said, indicating a couple of armchairs for them to avail themselves.

Honor sat and babbled the previous night’s details. If she thought that Sebastian harboured any jealousy towards her infatuation with Angel, it did not show. He was, however, very attentive to her description of the creepy guy and his mechanical bugs.

A customer demanded service and Sebastian excused himself. The mood broken, Honor waited until his business transaction was concluded. She glanced at her watch, it was nearly 4 pm. Where had the day gone? It was time she went.

“Well…”She inched towards the door. “I had better let you do your thing. If you see Angel, could you tell him I enjoyed our coffee last night and say hi for me?”

The door opened behind her and a couple entered the store. Sebastian nodded and smiled at her.

“I will, Honor. Take care.”

****

She told the girls at work about her adventure – edited to a degree - and how gorgeous the new man in her life was. They laughed at her and thought she was exaggerating. If only she had a picture to prove the fact, she’d show them.

Two days passed before Honor plucked up the courage to venture into The Written Word again. She was going to ask Sebastian about Angel and where he lived. The Englishman knew more than he was letting on and she was going to winkle the information out of him.

The front desk was empty. She peered about to find the owner. To her surprise and delight, she found Angel sitting in a corner with the Englishman. They both looked up as she approached; the reticent Angel graced her with a small smile.

Her heart leapt and somersaulted in response, she trembled. Get a grip she told herself. But she couldn’t, the man was unbelievably handsome, and in every way. He was not wearing his beloved coat and Honor could see how his muscles strained against the fabric of his dark shirt. She licked her lips.

“Angel, hi.”

Sebastian glared at her, so she added, “Hello, Sebastian.”

The gentleman that he was got up and procured a seat for her. She sat, surprised that Angel hadn’t moved.

“Hello, Honor, How are you?”

Honor melted on hearing Angel’s sexy voice. “I’m well, and you?”

“Fine.”

She couldn’t help herself, she stared at him. His eyes ticked away from her and it moved her to glance over to her new friend, Sebastian. His eyes twinkled and she swore that his lips twitched. She dropped her eyes to the books on the table. What the hell? A book, open, stared up at her. She narrowed her eyes. There was a drawing of a man’s face. Something about the eyes gave her pause. The pupils were slitted, reptilian like. She reached for the tome unable to decipher the writing there, when a large pale hand closed the book. Honor raised her eyes to see Angel lean back, somewhat awkwardly, his body a little stiff. Was he hurt? She wanted to ask but he had said that he was fine.

“That’s some reading material. I couldn’t help but notice the language. What is it?”

“Greek.”

Honor refrained from pinching her arm. The man was not only beautiful and kind, he was educated too.

“Is this what you do for relaxation?” she asked.

“You could say that.” His lips formed a half smile and Honor wondered about the two men. Were they…?

She blushed at the thought and studied the two. The Englishman was a bit odd, and he hadn’t tried to ask her for a date. She gazed at Angel and a lump formed in her throat. Please, let it not be so.

A British voice interrupted her thoughts.

Sebastian was saying, “You need your rest, Connor will be in to see you later.”

Connor? Is that the boyfriend?

Angel nodded and got to his feet. Sebastian and Honor stood as well, Angel loomed large over the both of them.

Sebastian gathered the books and handed them across. Angel held them against his chest and bid them goodnight.

“Good night, Angel. See you soon?” She asked hopefully.

He nodded and limped away. Sebastian touched her arm and she turned.

“Why is he limping? Why is he hurt?” She looked back, but of Angel there was no sign. Limping, the man could still move quickly. Strange, she hadn’t seen him use the front door.

“Oh, it’s nothing. He’ll be right as rain in a day or two.” The bookshop owner beamed at her and her concern ebbed. He wouldn’t be smiling if his friend was seriously hurt.

“Okay buster,” she stabbed a finger at him. “Angel isn’t just some customer, is he? You know him, and well,” she accused, feeling hurt at his deception.

He held up his hands in defeat. “Yes, he’s a friend, a good one and I hardly know you.”

Curiosity made her ask, “How did you two meet?”

His lips lost its smile, and Honor thought his look reminded her of a lost puppy.

“A mutual friend once worked with Angel.”

Honor was at a loss. She was uncomfortable and did the only thing she was good at when faced with awkward situations; she attempted humour, and dared the truth.

“Are you two, you know…” Her eyebrows wiggled.

“Two…know…” Comprehension dawned, she saw the blush creep up from his collar and paint his face bright red.

“Oh, Oh! No! He’s a friend. What made you think that?” he whispered. Sebastian bent his head until his hair brushed against hers.

Honor felt the heat in her own face. “Nothing… I don’t know, forget it.” She took the plunge, she was already embarrassed, why not go for broke. “Is he seeing anyone? This Connor?” she whispered back.

The Englishman snorted, he laughed so hard he bent over, hands on his knees to stop himself from toppling onto the floor. Sebastian wiped the tears from his eyes as he straightened, his glasses dangled from one hand.

“Sorry! That was unexpected.” He sat down. Honor settled onto her seat beside him feeling nonplussed and a little foolish. Feeling foolish was something she was experiencing a lot since meeting Angel.

“Connor is family, and Angel is not involved with anyone. There was a girl once…” He looked into her eyes. “He still loves her and always will.”

Honor’s hopes wilted. She had to ask! The truth was not always what one wanted to hear. A good friend told her that once. Deal with it, this friend had advised, embrace it and move on.

“Once?”

“The once is ongoing…he has hopes…”

Honor saw sadness in his eyes, and knew that Sebastian cared for his friend and did not necessarily think that Angel was going to have his hopes rewarded. Her heart ached for her handsome mystery man. She had been in that place.

Honor studied the Englishman. This was a good man sitting before her. Honor embraced and moved on. She never had high hopes; it had all been a fantasy, a dream. Angel had turned her head, how could he not? She stared at Sebastian. She could be a friend to Angel, and set her sights on Sebastian. The Englishman was a good-looking man. She smiled and changed the subject.

***

It was the end of the week and Honor’s ward had been busy. The patients that had been admitted in the last couple of weeks were showing signs of recovery. The unexplained illness that had led to some sort of schizophrenia and wasting disease - the treatments offered had little or no effect - was now dissipating. Families and friends were ecstatic and the ward was filled with chatter and relief. Honor and the nursing staff caught the joyous mood and were joking amongst themselves when Honor noticed a familiar figure heading in the direction of the exit that led to the garage beneath the hospital.

She dumped the files on the desk and called out as she raced after him. The man was no longer limping.

“Angel!”

He halted in mid stride and turned.

“Honor.”

His all black attire looked good she thought as she caught him up.

“What are you doing here?” she asked breathlessly.

“Visiting.”

Of course he was visiting. “Anything I can do?”

“It’s taken care of.”

He blessed her with a smile and she wished that he wasn’t unavailable. Her heart went pitter-pat all the same.

Honor’s friends’ whispered behind her, she flushed and hoped he hadn’t noticed.

Angel gently clasped her elbow and steered her back towards the reception desk. Honor wanted this moment never to end. His hand was on her, he was touching her. She resisted the urge to squeal.

“Perhaps you could help me with something,” he said, his eyes dancing with mischief.

Honor trembled, she would do anything. He led her towards where her fellow workers stood. She smiled up at him and caught the barest of winks. The other girls hushed as they drew near - as he drew near. She heard the intake of breath. She knew the feeling because she felt it too.

Angel’s long fingers snared her hand and raised it to his mouth. Cool lips brushed her knuckles, and a prickle of delight snaked its way up her arm and into her heart.

That oh so sexy voice murmured, “Thank you for such an entertaining evening the other night.”

She swallowed. Honor heard the throats of her co-workers close up too.

“You’re welcome,” she managed to say without stammering. Let her die now, she thought. Who in this day and age ever kissed a woman’s hand?

Angel inclined his head just a fraction, released her, and left her standing there with her hand held out before her. Honor gazed after his retreating figure before turning with a smug smile to her gobsmacked friends. You never knew when life was gonna smack you down, or on days like this, lift you up and make the world sing.

The End
March 2006

AN. Honor is an actual person, a real life friend. I hope she doesn’t mind me borrowing her name and occupation for this tale. She looks nothing like her description but she does love cats.

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