Disclaimer: All characters seen or mentioned on „Enchanted" belong to Disney and are used without permission. Sueing me would be a waste of time, since there's nothing you'd get out of this.
Note: Concerning Robert's selection of movies: I wondered what kind of movies I'd watch with a fairy tale princess who is just getting used to our world represented by New York and, concerning television, such things as the FOX News or America's Funniest Homevideos. Figuring that she would be quite shocked or confused by some of that stuff, I guess Robert would settle for the classics. No Science Fiction and no Fantasy, as it would look more like a documentary for her ("Oh, I remember Aragorn. He is such a lovely king. His wife Arwen and myself enjoyed knitting together."), so maybe Audrey Hepburn or action adventures heavily depending on humour with a tad of romance. Just FYI, in case you find my choice weird.
PERILIOUS DAYS OF ROBERT PHILLIP
There was Morgan.
Or rather: There was not Morgan.
And Robert Phillip was quite nervous about it. He was standing in the kitchen, wearing the remains of his suit: Jacket and tie were already gone, the upper buttons of his shirt opened and he ran his hand over his face: Up from his forehead to his chin, as if it was possible to straighten all the Wrinkles of Worry (tm).
Morgan was standing in front of the fridge, clinging to Giselle's clothes, while the red-haired young woman filled the small Cinderella-backpack in her hands with snacks and a cold beverages and handed it over to Morgan, who seemed unwilling to accept it.
"You have enough to eat, some sweets and something to drink. I also packed up your cap; it covers your ears and will warm them," Giselle told the little girl and smiled, when she saw Morgan's worried eyes. "We'll fetch you tomorrow at the station. You are going to have fun."
Morgan nodded, but was not ready to let Giselle go and take the backpack. She just looked at her with huge puppy eyes and an almost quivering lower lip. "You are not going to leave, are you?"
Giselle's expression softened and she knelt down, while putting the backpack away and taking Morgan's tiny hands instead. "Oh, no, sweetie, I am not. I will be there, with Robert, at the station, to pick you up and you'll tell me everything about your overnight stay." When Morgan didn't seem convinced, Giselle leant closer and gently touched the little girl's chin. "I promise."
That seemed to do the trick.
"Okay," Morgan nodded and finally took the backpack, clutching it to her body like some pink life belt. Robert watched the motion intently – and even more so, when Giselle bend down to hug his daughter. She was more loving and affectionate than he could ever expect a woman to be towards a girl that was not her daughter. Giselle was more loving than Morgan's own mother – and Robert took that as a very good sign.
It surprised and elated him – and still, he could not believe he was so lucky.
The door bell rang and both girls looked up.
"Here they are!" Giselle chirped. She got up and looked down at Morgan, offering her a hand. "I'll walk you down."
The words made Robert un-freeze. He moved towards his daughter and nodded. "Yes, me, too."
Morgan gazed at her father with a doubtful expression. "Uhm, dad? I mean, I'm just six, but I don't need both of you down there. Erika will be thinking that I'm a scaredy cat or something."
Robert stared at her with raised eyebrows, slightly surprised. He cleared his throat. "Well, if you think so." He hugged his daughter tightly, stroking her hair. When he held her at arm's length, he tried to stop himself from looking too worried. "Have fun."
"I will," Morgan promised.
"No strippers and no wild parties!" he told her with mock seriousness and a raised finger.
Morgan giggled and hugged him once more, burying her face in his clothes. "Yes, daddy."
Robert grinned and exchanged an amused glance with Giselle, then allowed her to lead his daughter downstairs.
He could hear their laughter and their conversation in the staircase, while he was standing in the door frame, listening intently.
It felt strange and comforting at the same time to have a third person living with them. Nancy had stayed for dinner, but never overnight. Also, her presence was enjoyable, but not peaceful. She was kind and friendly, but also very driven: she tried hard so Morgan would like her, she tried hard so Robert would forget his wife, she was so determined – it was flattering, Robert had to admit, because this was how Nancy showed her fondness, but it didn't exactly create peace or a homey feeling.
Giselle on the other hand was just – perfect. Quiet and comforting, but also encouraging, warm, humorous and intoxicating. The kind of ambition towards anything Nancy had approached was completely absent in Giselle's behaviour.
Morgan adored her -- everyone adored her -- and Giselle didn't even had to make an effort. She was thoroughly lovable – and charming.
Lovable – and charming.
Robert blinked. Somehow it's strange that she fell in love with me of all persons.
When he tried to think about what adjectives would describe him best, he thought about ...
An entire army of descriptions burst through an inner door of some sorts and all of them just sounded horrible. They made him feel like a person that could not be trusted with a child. They made him remember Morgan's mother. They made him remember ...
Robert squeezed his eyes shot and tried not to think about it. It just wasn't worth it, he decided, because everything was perfect; everything was the forever and ever he had not believed in – and the only decision yet to be made was whether he had to buy a third bed or not.
The Third Bed.
A scary decision. It meant so much – the Third Bed meant that Giselle was staying, being Robert's ... what?
It meant they were sleeping separately, which was of course good, because everything needed time, things had to be taken slowly, he knew Giselle only for a month and what if their relationship would not work out?
That was what his mind was telling him, but his heart had an entirely different opinion on the matter.
Sleeping separately was a bad thing, the Third Bed was a bad thing, because Robert was in love. Deeply, madly, desperately. And he wanted to show her. And he was ...
"She will just thing that I'm a scaredy cat," he heard the voice of Morgan in his head.
Grabbing the bannister and leaning down, Robert watched Giselle waving for a last time at Morgan, tilting her head a bit so she could see the little girl until the last possible moment.
Pausing for a second, she still stared at wherever she had seen Morgan the last, sighed and ascended the stairs again. Robert watched her, smiled and greeted her at the door only to lead her back into the apartment, with a hand on the small of her back.
"So, what do you want to do tonight?" he asked, closing the door behind him.
Giselle turned and thought about the question. "Well, what do you do on weekends besides," she remembered their past activities during the last few weeks. "Going to the movies, visiting the museum or the Central Park, the Opera, the music hall or just go shopping?" Her blue eyes met his with sparkling curiosity. "Do you want to go out today?"
It took Robert a second to digest the entire list. "Uhm, well – how about this: We order pizza, stay at home and watch a movie or some TV for a change?" He nodded towards her clothes. "You could change into something more comfortable."
"Watching a movie," she repeated slowly. There was slight confusion in her voice. "You don't visit the theatre to see movies?"
Robert chuckled and walked towards the living room. "We can watch some of the older ones here." He bend towards the TV set and grabbed some DVDs. "They are all quite good," he said, while handing them over. "Here: Casablanca, A Roman Holiday, Breakfast at Tiffany's, Indiana Jones or maybe It's a Wonderful Life."
Giselle read some of the descriptions on the backs of the DVD cases with intense scrutiny. "Oh, how about It's a Wonderful Life? The title sounds nice."
Figures, Robert thought and smiled. "All right. You change, I get the DVD ready."
Giselle handed him the DVD case, leaned over to kiss him and hurried off towards the bathroom. Robert watched her, a whirlwind of red hair and the scent of summer and flowers.
He turned towards the couch to remove the pillow and the blanket from there, but suddenly, all he could do was stare at the soft, white object in his hands. He lifted it to his nose; it smelled like her, as did the blanket and the feather-bed. A strange feeling rose within him; he suddenly didn't want to remove Giselle's makeshift bed at all, but they needed it for the evening and, he tried to remind himself: Maybe he could just move everything into his bedroom.
Giselle couldn't sleep on that couch forever, they didn't have a spare bed and he didn't want Morgan to sleep in his bed, so Giselle could sleep in Morgan's bed. Things had to change – quickly.
Or otherwise, he would go crazy.
The Third Bed.
He heard some rustling from the hall. "Robert?" Giselle asked in her melodious voice.
He turned towards the door. The red-haired young woman was wearing a pyjama they had bought her the other day. The fabric was red satin with some sunny coloured stripes on it. The socks, however, were a pair of his: white, soft and a bit too huge. Her hair was floating down onto her shoulders and she was sporting an inquisitive look on her face.
Robert, clutching the pillow and the feather-bed, stared at her, feeling like an idiot. But he just couldn't help himself ...
He swallowed a sandy hedgehog and regained his voice. "Erm, hey, you look – I mean, I really like your pyjama. Suits you." He smiled and tried to cover his nervousness by motioning towards the television. "Shall we?"
Giselle smiled warmly and something un-identified sparkled in her eyes. "Oh, yes," she said happily, floated over to the couch and sat down. Robert placed the pillow and the blanket onto an armchair and joined her, pointed the remote control at the DVD player, and seconds later, the movie started.
Moving his arm around her and pulling her up against him, she settled comfortably against his chest, snuggling into the fabric of his shirt. It was fun watching the DVD with her, since she laughed at the right moments, cried a bit and was moved to tears near the end.
Robert had seen the movie a hundred times since he had been a child, and every year at Christmas with Morgan, but it was an experience to watch it with Giselle, who was completely fascinated by the occurrence.
Turning halfway towards him, she searched for words. "That was just," she sniffed a bit. "Wonderful."
Robert smiled and removed the remnants of some tears from her cheeks. "I watch it with Morgan around Christmas. She loves it. Glad you like it, too."
"However, it made me cry," she said, noticing the wetness on Robert's fingertips. "Are all movies like this?"
"Well, not all of them. There are lots of badly made movies out there, or some of them are meant to make you laugh, or scare you." He nodded towards the shelf. "You have an entire library to explore."
She smiled and snuggled closer to him. "I am looking forward to it," she murmured, as he removed a strand from her forehead. "When Morgan comes back, she can announce recommendations."
"I'm really glad you get along with her so well," he said, then chuckled, drawing lazy circles on her upper arm. "In fact, if not for Morgan, I would have never met you."
"So we should be grateful," Giselle laughed, playing with Robert's fingers. She looked up again with sparkling eyes and noticed some worry in his eyes. Her smiled dimmed a bit. "What's the matter, Robert?"
Robert shrugged, watching their entwined fingers. "I just kinda wonder," he said. "I'm not Prince Edward. I'm not that dashing and outspoken and – I don't have his cheekbones." He laughed nervously, while she watched him intently, wondering what he was getting to. "We do not even share the same view on the most basic things, like romance and – and love ... and yet, you like me."
She tightened her grip around his hands and looked at him intently.
"You are very kind," Giselle said, with a certain amount of determination in her voice, as if there was no doubt about any of her words.
Robert scratched his stubbled cheek with his forefinger. "I'm grumpy."
She took his hand and caught it with her white, slender ones, stroking them."You are generous and humorous," Giselle persisted.
His voice grew softer. "I'm cynical and pessimistic," he said tenderly, leaning closer.
"You are not, when it comes to Morgan," Giselle whispered softly, removed one of her hands to touch the side of his cheek. He closed his eyes, partially out of reflex and to savour the feeling. She had the softest hands, always warm and dry and endearing ... and her scent ...
She was so close, he could feel the body heat radiating from the tip of her nose.
Their eyes met and it was only a weak smile, burdened with so much more when he said: "I cannot sing and I don't like to dance."
The affection in her eyes did a quantum leap and closing the distance between them, she kissed him, slowly and affectionately.
Warm breath tickled his lips, when she said:
"Yes, you can."
He kissed her again – she was soft and sweet and radiant and ... and ... soft.
I should get a thesaurus.
He felt her nibbling at his lower lip until the kiss deepened and her arms flung around his neck, pulling him closer.
This couch is really comfortable, the last remaining piece of his mind told him, when he pulled her down (or was it her pushing him?). The entire matter oh-so-pleasantly gained steam, since it benefited from several factors, the two most prominent among them being:
Morgan was not there and Robert could not make out in the living room with his girlfriend, knowing that Morgan was just one wall away.
The Girl from the Fairy Land felt so good. He had already noticed that she was light as a feather, but also warm and very alive.
Her fingertips glided over his face, down his neck and towards the opening of his collar, leaving burning traces behind them.
There was a quick move and suddenly it was her, who was laying underneath him. He felt her form even more clearly than before and when her pyjama top slipped, along with his shirt, his and her skin just above the hip made contact.
A sudden wave of contentment, warmth and passion surged through him and he heard her exhale.
She was intoxicating, radiant and completely irresistible, and if he were to talk to her at any time, it had to be now, because he knew: The next thing he would remember was waking up with a naked, beautiful woman by his side in his bed.
"Giselle?" he whispered hoarsely.
Her arms were around his neck, one of them playing with the nape of his hair, the other way beyond his collar, somewhere on his left bladebone.
He searched for her eyes, meeting misty, blue depths and a face that rose towards his own, touching with the tip of her nose his cheek. Her lips were pink, slightly bruised and a bit wet, and when her tongue wetted them even more, Robert struggled for his reason.
"Why did we stop?" she whispered. She searched his eyes and examined the situation from her unique point of view and asked: "The same thing happened in your office. And in the wardrobe"
"Yes," Robert managed to nod. "Yes, I know." His hands slid to her tiny waist and encircled her there. He wondered how he should start this and tried the easiest way possible. "Do you know why Nancy was so angry that time? When you came out of the shower?"
He could see her confusion, but she also seemed to realize that this conversation was important to him. She didn't understand why, but even now, in the most heated of all conversations, she was willing to listen to him.
"She thought I might have kissed you," Giselle said. She squirmed a bit, possibly uneasy at the mentioning of Edward's new bride and the sudden change of subject.
Robert grimaced and tried to calm down. "Yes, yes, but, I mean – do you know why you are sleeping on the couch?"
Her eyes travelled to his and if Robert hadn't been pre-occupied, he would have noticed a light bulb there. Suddenly, the squirming and the uneasiness stopped, being replaced by something quiet and affectionate. She watched him intently, waiting.
"Because where else would I be sleeping?" Giselle said solemnly. "And you don't want Morgan to move."
She wasn't exactly making it easier for him. Robert was fishing for the right words. "You could sleep with me – I mean, you could sleep in my bed, and I would be sleeping in it, too."
She beamed. "I could? Oh, as far as I remember, you also have a television set in there! That would be lovely!"
Robert almost groaned. "Yeah, that would be lovely." He hesitated and stared at her, still meeting that look of curiosity.
Her hair was spread out on the cushion, one hand right next to her head, curling slightly, while the other was still by the side of his neck, caressing him softly.
He briefly considered the idea of letting all sanity go, while howling to the moon, throwing her over his shoulder and carrying her over to his bedroom.
"Giselle," he started, moving his index finger to her strawberry coloured lips. "Giselle, I --"
He was cut short, when she simply raised her head and kissed him.
It was a short perfect kiss. When they separated, he noticed a gentle and affectionate look on her face.
"You are not going to get a Third Bed, are you?" she asked shyly, her eyes sparkling.
Robert suddenly stared at her. Lots of puzzle pieces tumbled back into place and he realized all the agitation had been completely unnecessary. His eyebrows touched his hairline with a tiny Pling.
"You were so hesitant," she continued, unsure, almost not able to hold his gaze. Her cheeks suddenly had a rosy coloured hue. "So reluctant, so cautious and I was not sure --" She shook her head and then, with the determination of someone wishing to clarify the situation, she asked: "You are not going to buy a Third Bed ..." And with hesitation, she added softly and unsure: "Are you?"
He stared for her for another long moment, his mouth slightly agape, then, while shaking his head, he said the only thing that came into his mind.
"I love you. Very much so. You and Morgan are my life and I," he kissed the tip of her nose and the corner of her mouth. "I ... I think we should move to the bedroom."
He kissed her full on the lips, feeling her smile and she replied happily and eagerly.
The momentum and the steam returned and the next thing he remembered was Giselle stripping him off his shirt, and shortly afterwards, of his undershirt.
Robert loved that couch. Best couch in the universe, he decided, when he heard a slight groan coming from the girl he loved, and it was comfortable, but it was not made for two.
She was clinging to him and kissing him, when he got up and pulled her with him. They stumbled some steps, the only clothing left being his boxer shorts and her underwear, until he picked her up and carried her into the bedroom.
No Third Beds.
The next thing he remembered was waking up the next morning with a naked, beautiful girl in his arms.
Rays of sunshine came streaming through the window, colouring the air golden, and he was clutching at Giselle so desperately, his nose pressing against the side of her neck, while a red strand of her hair was tickling his collar bone.
He moved a bit to look at her. A content expression graced her beautiful face. Her white, immaculate skin seemed to glow, and her swollen lips were opened, just slightly, while hair covered her face, her shoulders, his shoulders like a bronze halo.
He realized then that he would always need her more than she needed him.
Before he could ponder upon the though, a pair of inviting lips captured his and kissed him gently.
"Good morning," Giselle whispered shyly, when they separated.
"Good morning," he murmered, kissing her nose. "Slept well?"
"Oh, yes," she sighed and, after realizing what she had said and how she had said it, Giselle blushed profoundly.
Robert laughed, a wonderful sound, rumbling through his and her body -- and kissed her again. "Great," he smiled. He removed a strand of her hair from her forehead. "Just wonderful."
They watched each other with a gaze of utter contentment, until Giselle had to giggle and kissed him again.
"We have to fetch Morgan, Robert," Giselle said, drawing another circle on his chest. She seemed to have some strange fascination with his chest hair.
Robert sighed. "I know. I know." Drawing her closer, he stroked her cheek. He skimmed her smooth skin with his forefinger. "I love you, Giselle."
She smiled at him, and sometimes those words, whispered into the comforting silence between the two of them, added a certain vulnerability and Robert saw the wetness in her eyes. "I love you, too," she whispered, through the tears and the smile.
And kissing her, Robert realized that, no matter what some people with a questionable sense of fashion claimed, he did, after all, live in a place where it was indeed possible to have a ...
Happily Ever After.
The End (3/3)