Goes Along With You • •

[Dylan Ellis Griffin]

The day Dylan had been dreading since before Bridget had left for Vegas had been the longest of his career so far. The hours had ticked by and by the time he stepped out of the operating theatre he was feeling so exhausted that he could have easily crashed out on the couch in his office. Luckily, the elation of everything going great had given him a spurt of energy to deliver the good news to the worried parents and then get him home to his apartment. It felt strange, however, not having Bridget around to celebrate with. Normally he would just knock on her door and drag her to his place for a glass of wine and some company, but with her out of town he had to make do with his pups. Still, it just wasn’t the same and his mind soon wandered to some of his memories of their recent weeks and the more time they had been spending together. Those thoughts stayed with him until sleep finally took him and he was able to catch up on the hours he needed, without nightmares, worries or even yapping dogs trying to climb onto their master’s bed.

It wasn’t until the next afternoon that the idea came to him though. He had just checked on the slightly groggy, but soon-to-be-healthy young boy, and was about to continue with his rounds when the thought came crashing down on him. It was a little on the crazy side, but Dylan saw no harm in a little adventure and once he had poked his head in on the rest of his patients he returned to his office to work out the kinks and call his boss. It was short notice, as he was reminded repeatedly, but Dylan already had a charm about him and a logical argument in place. He had been working himself a little too hard with all the worrying about his young patient with the brain tumour; he needed a break. The two days at the end of the coming week would normally be enough, but he hadn’t used his vacation time since January and it was just sitting there. Eventually, with a little persuasion and the promise to return the favour should his boss ever need a last minute cover, Dylan had an extended vacation granted to him. Of course, he had to see out the rest of the week and ensure the rotas were done for all of the residents who looked to him for guidance, but Dylan usually kept on top of that, given the hours he spent under the blinding OR lights compared to the dull energy saving bulb of his office.

Once he finished on that Thursday evening, a little later than he had hoped for, Dylan raced back home and made sure he had everything prepared. His apartment seemed eerie without the scampering of paws, but his ma had collected the dogs for him and they’d be spoilt rotten while he was away. With just the necessities crammed into a duffle bag, along with the envelope containing Bridget’s real surprise, Dylan collapsed in his bed earlier than usual. He was up with the dawn chorus, double checking the route and everything he had packed. Turning his attention to his bike, the Irishman checked everything over quickly and made sure his things were secure; he didn’t need a bag causing a truck accident on the freeway. His ma had offered her car to him, but Dylan had always preferred his bike and since he wasn’t hauling diving equipment and oxygen tanks, he stuck to his favourite. He had split the trip across a few days, knowing he’d need the frequent breaks since it was hot, he had a long distance to cover and he would be stuck in the same position for almost the entire time he was on the road. Still, there was nothing quite like driving across country like that and Dylan didn’t have a single complaint, even making a note to find another reason to travel like this again, at some point. At both of the motel stops he checked his bag for the surprise. He knew he had them with him, but seeing them was just that little bit more reassuring.

Once he finally hit Vegas early on the Sunday afternoon, Dylan had to stop just one more time to check out a local map and get directions. He had the address stored in his phone after getting the approval of Taylor down in the morgue. She had been more than willing to hand over the address to Bridget’s parents’ house, laughing the whole time she did it. Dylan just hoped Bridget had the same enthusiastic reaction that her friend did. With the directions firmly set in mind, he took his time making sure to hit the right streets and follow the right flow of the traffic before reaching his final destination. He was lucky; if it hadn’t been for him recognising Bridget’s car, he might’ve rode on by! Cutting the engine and climbing off, Dylan removed the helmet, ignoring his slightly messy hair, and fished out his phone from the safety of one of the zipped pockets of his jacket. Grinning at the thoughts that filled his head, he fired off a quick text to Bridget, letting a little bit of his cheeky side shine on through. Get your gorgeous ass out front right now, Miss Delaynee. There’s a surprise for you… x He didn’t know if she’d respond, do as the text said or call him and ask him if he was crazy, but he was excited to see. Peeling the gloves from his fingers, he carefully leaned back against the shiny blackness of his bike and kept his eyes fixed on the house, smirking already even though he didn’t know what was going to happen next.

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• • •

TAGGED! Bee <3
WORDS! 1,019!
OUTFIT! Biker Boy!
LYRICS! I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles) - - - The Proclaimers
NOTES! <3 <3 <3

[Bridget Cameron Delaynee]

Bridget had pulled into her parent’s drive exhausted but excited to be home. She had let her pets out to let her parents aware of her arrival before Bridget actually walked through the door. Her father had taken the day off to greet his only daughter and the trio spent the evening out to dinner to catch up. From then it was some shopping here and there, a day in California and the rest alternating between lounging by the pool in the backyard and in the kitchen baking. She had expected nothing less, really so she couldn’t seriously complain about the lack of lazing about time she spent. But she could and did gladly joke about the lack of poolside time. Even now, being stuck in the kitchen she was purposefully wearing her swim suit with a pair of shorts to give her mother a clue as to what she really wanted to be doing. Oddly enough, what she had missed and never even realised it until she’d walked through the door was speaking to everyone in French. She rarely spoke French in New York unless it just slipped out or she was talking to Marc during one of their run-ins in the hallways.

Vivie had her daughter working double time with her on the Wellington wedding. And though Bridget complained non-stop about being on vacation and still working, she had known when she got behind the wheel of her car that she would end up in the kitchen with flour in her hair more than she would spend time by the pool out back. The blonde professor didn’t mind in the least though because it was time spent with her mother and the pair were as thick as thieves. The music was blasting to keep up the energy so they would have a few hours to spare by the pool after they’d delivered the final half of deserts to the venue. Thankfully, her mother’s team was already there setting up and going through the final touches so all they had to do was finish this and drive them over; which her mother could do without her. She wanted to spend the spare minutes while her mother was off delivering food to her wait staff sitting by the pool with some terrible gossip magazines criticising every celebrity in them and maybe even do a few laps.

Her hands were covered in flour and dough that Sunday afternoon when the familiar beep of an incoming text rang through the air. Vivie snatched it up before Bee had a chance to wipe her hands in the apron she had covering herself. “Quelqu'un mélangé nos numéros de téléphone de nouveau parce que j'ai clairement le meilleur derrière,” she said, mischievously as she turned the phone around for Bridget to scan the text for herself. “Pas d'ego sur vous, ma mere,” Bee said before checking the sender. Confusion clouded her features as she pulled the apron over her head and set it on the counter. She moved quickly through the house to the front with her mother hot on her heels, headed for the living room and the perfect view of the drive without standing on the front porch. Hiding away though, didn’t stop the French woman from opening the windows as far as she could get them to listen in while her daughter opened the door and stepped out into the sun.

She hadn’t heard the motorcycle pull up on the quiet street, but then, the music had been loud and the kitchen overlooked the backyard and not the front. So it would have been easy to miss the familiar sounds of Dylan’s bike. “Dylan?” She asked, looking at him like he was a mirage before rushing across the drive barefoot and into his arms. “Que faites-vous ici?” She asked, laughing with her arms around the Irish doctor. Taylor’s text from a few days before started to make so much sense now and as soon as Bridget got the chance she would be sending one right back to her to let her know she understood now. The mortician was probably at home dying from laughter for the last few days waiting for Bridget to get the meaning behind the two word text message.

Tag || Dylan! <3
Words || 710
Clothes || Flour Girl
Music || Rain Falls Down - - -We The Kings
Notes || <3

[Dylan Ellis Griffin]

His own mother had been a little more than slightly amused by Dylan’s plan of action. She had laughed for several minutes and then asked if he had been drinking when this “crazy idea” had struck him. It wasn’t uncommon for Dylan to do something on the spur of the moment and hit the road for weekends far away from the bright city lights of New York, but it had never been for this reason and just because he could. He had checked in with her at each night-time stop to let her know that he was alive and okay, and that some truck driver hadn’t chased him off the road. The woman, who had retained her native accent, often said that for a pretty smart guy Dylan had been stupid in buying a motorbike; especially when he had cut open and patched up several riders over his young career! Dylan just argued that it made him more careful, seeing and knowing the ins and outs of the risks involved each time he straddled the bike. However, mothers need something to worry about and she chose that as hers.

He hadn’t really given much thought to if Bridget might be home. She had said her return to Vegas wouldn’t be full of plans, so he had simply assumed that on a Sunday afternoon she would be at the address given to him by Taylor. If she wasn’t then he would have to find something to pass the time until she was home. It wasn’t his first trip to Vegas, but he had mainly done the tourist things one evening and then fixated on the reason for his trip there; a dive in Lake Mead. Most of the time, Dylan only left New York for that reason and so despite visiting some of the bigger cities and more popular states, he didn’t often appear like many of the tourists did. His camera was reserved for when he was underwater and the gimmicks and tourist hotspots rarely extended to the people he knew or the places he wound up. More often than not, they were in the middle of nowhere with dubious looking equipment and outfits, making sure everyone’s devices were in sync so there were no accidents or clashes of opinion once they were below the surface.

At the sight of Bridget in the doorway, Dylan’s smirk turned into a cheeky grin and he took a step forward just in time to catch Bridget as she landed in his arms. He needed a second to translate her question, since he hadn’t really spoken or studied French since high school and was a little bit rusty. Luckily, with Bridget around as often as she was, tiny bits of it came back to him when he dug about the corners of his memory for it. “Oh, you know, I was in the neighbourhood and just thought I’d drop by.”

[/color] He teased, still wearing an easy smirk. It really had been worth the countless hours on his bike and the over consumption of coffee just to see the expression on her face now. He still had the rest of the surprise for her, too, but he’d let her get over this first and think that she knew everything before he sprung that one on her. Hopefully the wait would get him another pleasant, but stunned, reaction.
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• • •

TAGGED! Bee <3
WORDS! 601!
OUTFIT! Biker Boy!
LYRICS! I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles) - - - The Proclaimers
NOTES! <3 <3 <3

[Bridget Cameron Delaynee]

Bridget had missed being home more than she thought she would. It wasn’t the being home part that she missed, she could live without Vegas. It was the stupid conversations she and her father had, acting serious but trying to get the other mess up or laugh. It was knowing that as soon as she rolled out of bed, her mother would already had smoothies ready and waiting for the hour of yoga beside the pool before work had to be done. She actually missed the yelling in the kitchen, the get this or get that and having to read her mother’s mind to have it ready before she demanded it. But she also knew that as soon as it was time to pack up, those things would be all she missed. She wouldn’t miss the heat, the noise of the strip when she decided to get out of her neighbourhood and grab lunch or a quick coffee with a couple old friends. She absolutely wouldn’t miss the mess of drunken tourists.

As soon as she had stepped through her parent’s door, it was no English allowed unless a call came through or a friend stopped by. And even then, the family friend’s knew them well enough to have a basic understanding of what they were saying and keep a decent conversation. Even the people her mother hired had to have a good understanding of French because Vive tended to forget where she was and mutter in her native tongue expecting things to still get done even though she wasn’t speaking English and no one understood her. There were plenty of times in the summer when Bee was a teenager and would help her mother out and have to translate for the newer employees when they just stared at her confused. Eventually they got used to her and would stop gawking.

“Bien sûr, parce que je vois tout votre équipement de plongée arrimé à l'arrière de votre moto,” Bee said, blandly. It took her a moment before she caught herself and realised what she was doing. Rolling her eyes, Bee laughed at herself as she said, “Sorry, Delaynee house rule one; no English unless we have a guest who doesn’t speak French. Clearly, we haven’t had any guests since I’ve gotten here that doesn’t.” A light blush crept up to settle on her cheeks but she wasn’t going to let it deter her. “I said sarcastically a bit about obvious dive gear strapped to the back of your bike,” She said again, grinning and gesturing towards the motorbike behind him. “Well,” She said, stepping back finally realising she was still wrapped in Dylan’s arms. “You’re going to want to come in before the crazy old lady that lives here comes out and causes a scene,” she said a little louder than she really needed to specifically so her mother could hear what she said.

The affection between the two women was obvious in the playful remarks they threw back and forth at each other. Even over the phone, they were ridiculous with each other. Taking Dylan’s hand, Bridget led him into the house, shutting the door behind them. “Welcome to Casa Delaynee,” Bridget said, gesturing around the foyer. “Come on, I’ll give you a little tour,” she said, moving forward and peeking her head around doorframes to check out her mother’s last whereabouts. Seeing it was safe from unfiltered questions. She pointed as they walked past, inevitably ending up in the kitchen when they were finished with the main floor; and her mother with apron on and pastry in her hands. “Maman, I don’t think you’ve had the pleasure of meeting Dylan. Dylan, the crazy woman covered in flour for no good reason is my mother, Genevieve,” Bridget said quickly, rolling her eyes at her mother for acting as though she was always covered in flour. For as long as Bee could remember, it was her who was covered in flour while her mother managed to stay perfectly clean.

Smiling, Vivie wiped her hands clean. “Can’t let me have a simple trick, can she?” Vivie asked in her think French accent, looking right at Dylan. There was nothing subtle about the woman Bridget called her mother who had never lost her accent. Her hair was the same bright, sunny blonde Bridget always remembered, her petite stature was similar to her daughter’s though Bridget had an inch on her and her wit was as dry and as quick as ever. “It is nice to finally meet you Dylan. We’ve heard so much,” Genevieve said before turning to Bee again. “Be a dear and run into the fridge for more butter. I didn’t grab enough when we started.” Muttering about her mother being a liar and knowing it, Bee still went down the hall to the walk-in fridge they kept while her mother stood on the opposite side of the counter space with mischief in her eyes. “So, Dylan, are you sleeping with my daughter?” She asked though she didn’t stray from kneading the dough in her hands.

Tag || Dylan! <3
Words || 846
Clothes || Flour Girl
Music || Rain Falls Down - - -We The Kings
Notes || <3

[Dylan Ellis Griffin]

Dylan couldn’t really miss life with his immediate family since they all still lived in the city. He only needed to climb on his bike and make his way through the usual traffic to find them living with just as much chaos as he remembered when he was younger. There was always someone yelling in the Griffin household, someone blaming someone else for whatever had happened, and someone complaining that everyone else was disturbing them! It was a typical family home to Dylan, especially considering they were of Irish origin. Whenever his aunts and uncles came over, it only amplified the noise and the commotion. Soon, it would be him visiting them and hopefully with a pretty blonde at his side. She wanted a tour and Dylan would give her one, with just a few Griffin memory stops included for his own sake. He had to mention all of this to Bridget, but he could wait a little longer and let her get over this shock first.

His grin only grew and his eyebrow arched at the flurry of French that fell from her fluent lips. He could remember a few phrases and words, but he barely caught anything that she had just said. Still, he laughed warmly, happy to see her again. “Let’s remember I took a Spanish class at university and left the French at high school.”

[/color] He teased, though he had hardly been forced to put those Spanish lessons to use yet. He had just figured that a few extra credits couldn’t hurt and so took the summer class to bulk out his knowledge and add something else to his resume when it came to the job hunting challenges. His blue eyes flicked to his bike and he gave her a casual one armed shrug before looking back towards the Vegas blonde. “That’s because I came for you.”[/color] Honest, a little forward, but to the point. The tickets in his bag were hopefully going to be a nice surprise and one a little bigger than him turning up outside of the house. Glancing at the house, Dylan smirked and ran his fingers through his hair to neaten it back into its usual style. “I can’t wait.”[/color]

He followed her up the drive and inside the house. Dylan listened to everything she said and threw his usual cheeky comments into the mix as she gave him the tour of the place that was once her home. Finally, when they came across the kitchen and Bridget’s mother, he was the gentleman he had always been, taking her hand and brushing the flour from it before raising it to his lip to press a quick kiss to the skin. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs Delaynee. I’ve only heard good things, and now I know where Bridget gets her stunning looks from.”[/color] He couldn’t help himself; he was a charmer by nature and after using that trait so often, especially to help nervous patients relax, it just seemed to be the instinctive way of greeting people. Grinning, he glanced across at his neighbour and then nodded his head. “She does like to keep all of the fun to herself, this one.”[/color] He nudged Bridget playfully and winked down at her before turning his attention back to Genevieve. “I hope none of it’s been bad, because I promise I can explain those.”[/color] He joked lightly. Chuckling as Bridget walked off, his eyebrows raised closer to his hairline at the next question that came his way. “No. No I’m not sleeping with your daughter. I’m just the neighbour.”[/color] He let out a small laugh and then his mind decided to venture back to the morning when he had woken up with Bridget at his side. Clearing his throat quietly, Dylan glanced at the dough in her hands and nodded towards it. “What are you making?”[/color]
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• • •

TAGGED! Bee <3
WORDS! 690!
OUTFIT! Biker Boy!
LYRICS! I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles) - - - The Proclaimers
NOTES! <3 <3 <3

[Bridget Cameron Delaynee]

There were a lot of things growing up that Bridget wished had been different. She had wished more than once that she had a younger sibling to tease, torment and hang out with. But her parents had only ever wanted one and even then, they had planned for that to be a little later in life. But Bee threw them a curveball when she surprised them quite a few years earlier than they had hoped. Still they didn’t love her any less and didn’t treat her like she was some sort of mistake. They joked that she was a surprise but that usually followed something she’d done that had them laughing and saying she was always full of surprises, even before she was born. But even without a sibling or two, they had fun, kept themselves busy. And with the friends she had in the neighbourhood, it was like a big family.

“Don’t worry, Vivie will forgive you for that,” she said, grinning. She loved her mom, but if you tried being around her too long without even trying French, she gave lessons. Of course, she wasn’t about to tell Dylan of this either. It was better to let him figure it out on his own and let her sit back and enjoy the show. “That’s sweet. I missed you, too,” she said, giving in and hugging him a little tighter for a second. Bee looked at the house, wondering if he really couldn’t wait to see where she grew up, or meet her mother. There were plenty of her friends from high school who hadn’t believed her mother could be as Bee described her; and yet she was. “You can but good luck,” she said, leaving it at that. He would see soon enough that she wasn’t exaggerating about her mother.

Vivie laughed, shaking her head. “Bee was right. You are a terrible flirt. I love it, but call me Vivie, everyone does,” she said, laughing at the charmer her daughter brought home with her. It didn’t matter that he showed up on the front lawn, leaning against a motorbike while her pride and joy had been home for a week or more, he was still there for her; that much was obvious to the doting mother and pastry chef, that much would be obvious to the ninety year old half blind woman who lived down the street with her grandson and barely left her house. Bridget couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the two of them getting along. Both were important people in her life and she was happy they were getting along well. Bee knew that as soon as she left the room her mother was going to say something and she was just wishing as she walked down the hall that it would cause any commotion. “Oh, don’t worry, there’s plenty to explain about,” Vivie joked, pleased her daughter left the room so she could get down to some of the more blunt questions she had been wanting to ask since her little girl brought the doctor up in conversation the first time.

“Alright but you want to,” she said matter-of-factly though it was a question. There wasn’t much time before Bee would be back and Vivie wanted her answers before she was. She knew her daughter cared for the charmer standing in front of her now. She just wanted to know his side of things as well. She wanted to ask more but Bee strolled back into the room with the extra butter, slamming it onto the table as Vivie said, smiling, “Oh, just some croissants for later. Don’t be rude Bee, finishing the tour. Leave the old crazy lady that lives here to her baking.” And with that she was finished for the moment; though she did make a promise to herself to ask more questions. As much as Bridget wanted to know what she missed, she knew if she asked, she probably wouldn’t like the answers so she just didn’t bother. Shaking her head, Bridget looked over at Dylan. “Ready to continue?” she asked, skirting around him for the fridge and grabbing two bottles of water from inside and tossing one at Dylan.

Tag || Dylan! <3
Words || 701
Clothes || Flour Girl
Music || Rain Falls Down - - -We The Kings
Notes || <3

[Dylan Ellis Griffin]

If Dylan had been able to change anything about his own childhood, it would have been to have more time with his dad. They had planned to go to a ball game the weekend after he had died and Dylan hadn’t been able to go, not without his father at his side. His ma’s new husband was a great guy, but he wasn’t Dylan’s father, never would be, and the neurosurgeon had made that perfectly clear from the start. Now, instead of wishing for his past to be different, he hoped that fate wasn’t cruel enough to snatch a father away from the girls and leave his mother lonely again.

“Good to know.”

[/color] Dylan said with a slight nod and a little smirk. He could remember quite a bit of his old French lessons if he really tried, but most of the time there just wasn’t a need for it and he didn’t see the point in trying to recall the old words and phrases after a long day at work. All he wanted to do then was get a decent meal into his stomach and get home. He just grinned and wiggled his eyebrows at Bridget. He had always been quite the people person and it was rare for Dylan to find someone he couldn’t get along with. Of course, there were some he preferred over others and some who he would like to simply avoid for the most part, but when it came down to it, he could be civil with most people. It was just nice when he got to make friends and put people at ease. He had learnt that not everyone was comfortable around doctors for whatever reason, and he didn’t want that to be the fault behind him not forming a good relationship with another human being. Meeting Bridget’s mother would be interesting, especially if Bridget’s stories hadn’t been exaggerated. Dylan would look forward to that challenge.

“What have you been telling people about me?”[/color] Dylan joked, looking back towards Bridget and pretending to be shocked by what he was hearing. “Well then, Vivie, it’s an absolute pleasure. And I’m sorry for just turning up unannounced, but I wanted to surprise this one.”[/color] He nudged Bee lightly and grinned again. It had been worth it all just for the look on her face when she had appeared outside. With the other surprise still hidden for now, he wondered if he’d get a different expression or reaction when the time was right to reveal it to the pretty blonde professor. Chuckling, he looked back at Vivie and pulled an overdramatic cringe face. “Gulp?”[/color]

Dylan found himself unable to do anything other than blink at the French woman. He wasn’t expecting that to come out of her mouth and he certainly didn’t know how to answer it! He cared for Bridget, yes, but he had been playing nothing more than the gentleman for the last couple of months. The last thing he wanted was to do something to ruin the friendship they already had. He’d miss her too much if she was out of his life completely. “I-“[/color] He was cut short, and possibly saved, by Bridget’s return into the kitchen at that precise moment. He took a second to pull his scattered thoughts together and then recovered with just enough time to catch the bottle of water that came his way. He hadn’t stopped one on this final stretch of his journey, so his last drink had been the iced tea he had been given at the cute little diner across the road from the motel he had spent the night in. Unscrewing the lid, he took another moment to gulp down a few mouthfuls and then smiled across at Bridget. “Lead the way!”[/color] He said cheerily, trying to forget the blunt conversation that he had almost had with Vivie. Something told him that she wouldn’t let it go, but next time he’d be a little more prepared for her forward style of questioning.
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• • •

TAGGED! Bee <3
WORDS! 713!
OUTFIT! Biker Boy!
LYRICS! I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles) - - - The Proclaimers
NOTES! <3 <3 <3

[Bridget Cameron Delaynee]

There weren’t too many friends who visited that didn’t leave without learning a new phrase or something. It was inevitable with the amount of friends Bridget brought home with her. Meghan had quickly become and expert with all the sleepovers the two had growing up. They were best friends, as close as sisters. Her house had been Bridget’s second home and vice versa for Meghan. “Stay longer than an hour and you’ll be getting lessons,” Bee warned, though they probably fell on deaf ears. She didn’t think Dylan would believe her unless he saw for himself just what he was in for. At least she could say she tried.

“Everything,” Bridget said with a light shrug but there was laughter in her pale eyes as she looked his way. She and her parents, both of them were close. There wasn’t anything that happened in her life that she didn’t feel comfortable telling them. They had always said she could tell them whatever she wanted and they wouldn’t get mad at her. She called them when she got too drunk at the house parties in high school; she called her parents to pick her up for the same reasons in college. Her parents mostly thought her adventures were amusing. She had heard plenty of stories of her mother in high school and college. And if those tales were true, Bridget wasn’t half as bad as the last generation still was. “I feel special,” she said, unable to hide the smile curving her lips. “No need to apologise, I find it sweet,” Vivie said, glancing at her daughter. The entire time she was in the fridge, she was wishing her mother wouldn’t start a full on verbal assault questioning and knowing her wishes were being left unanswered.

Vivie had never been the type of girl to beat around the bush and take the long way to a question that was bothering her. When she wanted to know something she asked it and just waited for a response. But with Bridget only going for one small thing and not a dozen like when they had started the croissants, she wouldn’t get the responses she wanted. Keeping quiet, she waited until the two were starting down the hall to speak up. “You’ll have an answer for me, won’t you Dylan?” she asked, though it was hardly a question, she wanted an answer. Bridget stood, looking back at her mother with confusion in her eye but she had long since given up and trying to figure her mother out. Taking Dylan’s hand she brushed off her mother’s words and nearly dragged him from the kitchen down the back hall to the basement door and down. The space was set up in smaller sections, a home gym, another sitting room though it usually went unused since she was a teenager and spent most of her time there with her friends when her room just wouldn’t work, and a mini movie theatre, which was naturally, Bridget’s smart idea when she’d been six and wanted her own movie theatre to watch her favourite Disney movies. “And my favourite room in the entire house,” she said, flipping a switch to reveal the theatre.

Tag || Dylan! <3
Words || 534
Clothes || Flour Girl
Music || Rain Falls Down - - -We The Kings
Notes || <3

[Dylan Ellis Griffin]

Dylan’s own mother had her quirks that his friends had noticed back when he was young enough to live at the family home. She had never lost a trace of her own heritage and whenever anyone came over there was always Irish music playing and some hearty casserole or stew in the oven. She also adopted any and every child as her own once they were under her roof and usually they left with a full stomach and a treat for later. She was the mother who had half of the block’s children lining up at her front door the second one of her biological kids muttered anything about ice cream and Clara wouldn’t have it any other way. Even with Lily and Kyla now, she was exactly the same. “I’m always a keen student.”

[/color] He joked, that smirk still in place.

Vivie’s words had caught him off guard, he wouldn’t deny that. As he was walking away with Bridget, his answer formed perfectly in his mind and even then he was wishing he had been given a moment longer to gather his wits so that he might’ve answered before Bridget returned. “Already have, Vivie.”[/color] He called back, letting his lips curve upwards as he glanced back at the woman in the kitchen. He did have an answer for her, and he would let her know it as soon as he had the next available chance.

However, despite moving away from that conversation for now and moving around the rest of the house with Bridget, his mind kept flickering back to that morning. He knew it was nothing really, just a simple mistake given the circumstances, but not telling Bridget about it had kind of weighed on him and his morals. He had promised never to lie to her, which he hadn’t, but he also knew that she deserved to know what happened. Now wasn’t the best time for that, and he didn’t want to make her mad, but it seemed like his thoughts wouldn’t stop dancing back there unless he did ‘fess up. “I thought your favourite room would be a library.”[/color] He joked lightly, letting his blue eyes look around the theatre. He wanted to put this next bit off, he really did. He wished they could be back in New York or that he had done this week’s before, but with Vivie’s questions bringing the memories bubbling to the surface, Dylan felt like he needed to get it off his chest sooner rather than later. If the worst case scenario did come to life then his bike was just outside and he could easily leave. Stepping back, just slightly, Dylan looked at Bridget and ran his fingers through his hair. “Listen, there’s something I need to tell you, and it’s about the morning after you got drunk and mixed the keys up.”[/color] He paused for a slight second, giving her the chance to catch up with him, since he had suddenly changed their conversation. “Well, I didn’t tell you because of everything that was happening at the time, and then afterwards it just seemed ridiculous to bring up, but I sort of kissed your neck, a few times. I was still half asleep, and I’m sorry.”[/color] He looked at her, firmly holding her gaze as he waited for her reaction.
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• • •

TAGGED! Bee <3
WORDS! 596!
OUTFIT! Biker Boy!
LYRICS! I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles) - - - The Proclaimers
NOTES! <3 <3 <3

[Bridget Cameron Delaynee]

Bridget was too much like her mother with her friends and students. There were always treats she’d baked around everywhere. There was always a stubborn, often sarcastic remark just waiting at the tip of her tongue to be let loose. They both automatically went to French the second they let their minds wander. They both put their friends and family above all else and had too big a heart for animals and children. Just because her parents didn’t have a horde of children, didn’t mean they were second parents to most of Bridget’s friends growing up. All of her friends left with a plastic container of goodies and any advice they might not have known they needed. Rolling her eyes, Bridget just thought, he said that now when he didn’t know what he was getting himself into; he would see.

Vivie was good at taking people by surprise with her questions or actions. No one ever expected the petite French woman to say or do anything she ever did. And she loved living life like that it was always so exciting to see what she would do next; half the time even she didn’t know until she was in the moment. Bombarding her daughter’s friend with the questions had been her plan but she wasn’t sure if she was going to just spit them all out and get them answered in order or if she was going to spread them out over a conversation or two. Dylan’s words as they walked away caught her and she couldn’t help but laugh and shake her head. He was a good boy, at least she liked and it was plain to see he was an important part of Bridget’s life. And she knew that was all that matter to her husband. He would go through the serious talks and anything else but it would be all for show.

“Second favourite since I took half of it with me when I left,” she said, laughing. There were times on those rainy days when she would curl up in one of those oversized, overstuffed chairs they had in the library with a book and hot chocolate. But when she moved, she took most of the good books with her so now the library was basically medical books only and what her mother read whenever she was relaxing. Confused had Bridget narrowing her brows but she nodded as she sat on the edge of one of the oversized and ridiculously comfortable chairs set up in the room wondering what he had to say about that morning that she didn’t know. She still couldn’t remember much from the night before that morning and what she could remember of the morning was Dylan taking care of her. “Huh,” she said, carefully opening the bottle of water in her hands and downing half its contents in record time to buy herself some time. She had no idea what she was supposed to say to Dylan about that; not a single clue.

Tag || Dylan! <3
Words || 502
Clothes || Flour Girl
Music || Rain Falls Down - - -We The Kings
Notes || <3

[Dylan Ellis Griffin]

Dylan had picked up various qualities from both of his parents, but his ma always joked that she had no idea where his intelligence and ambition came from. While the Griffin family had always been comfortable financially, neither of Dylan’s parents had strived for a fancy office at the top of a skyscraper high building, or a ridiculous income each year. They just wanted to give their children the best lives that they possibly could and Dylan believed that they had done just that. Of course there were hiccups here and there, but none of those could be blamed on their parents, and Dylan would defend them to his death if anyone said otherwise.

“Oh, of course, how daft of me.”

[/color] He slapped his hand to his forehead in a comical fashion and then smirked. He had a semi-impressive book collection of his own, but Dylan preferred to keep more practical hobbies such as his restoration of destroyed furniture and his diving travels. He found that while reading took him to another world, those hobbies gave him something to gift from that imagination. Not many people could look at a tarnished dresser in the same way that he could and others could barely begin to imagine what beauty lied in the dark caves they had been warned off as a child. Power tools and oxygen tanks were Dylan’s big boy toys and no one could take them away from him, no matter how hard they tried. When Dylan confessed the truth of that morning to Bridget, he was expecting a reaction, and maybe his imagination had run away with him because he was expecting something big. It might have been wishful thinking or sheer panic, but her actual reaction stumped him even more than Vivie’s questions. “’Huh?’ Huh. Okay then.”[/color] He didn’t quite know what else to say and took a second to blink his mind clear. “I’ll be right back. I meant to grab a fresh shirt from my bike.”[/color] It was the truth, but it was also something that could’ve waited a little longer. Really, he just needed a minute to let what had just happened sink in.

Outside, in the bright sunlight, Dylan fiddled with the luggage secured on his bike. He took his time with it, thinking they could both do with the short pause to let the dust settle, so to speak. He didn’t know what he had been expecting from Bridget when he told her about that morning, but ‘huh’ hadn’t been it. Feeling confused, Dylan checked the shirt in his hand, making sure it wasn’t full of creases before tucking it under his arm. He took longer than necessary securing everything back on the bike, going through the motions while his head tried to make sense of everything. He hadn’t wanted to upset Bridget by telling her about the kisses, but he had hoped for…something, even a sarcastic response that he could push and prod with. Usually, that was how they worked; teasing, prodding, toeing a line on occasion that might have been a step too far. None of that had come from this, though, and it left the neurosurgeon feeling all kinds of peculiar. A moment later, Dylan made his way back inside and back to the mini-theatre where he had left Bridget.
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• • •

TAGGED! Bee <3
WORDS! 592!
OUTFIT! Biker Boy!
LYRICS! I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles) - - - The Proclaimers
NOTES! <3 <3 <3

[Bridget Cameron Delaynee]

“You really should have known better,” she teased, shaking her head as if she were disappointed with Dylan for not knowing that. Literature wasn’t just a hobby for Bridget, though she did find comfort within the pages of the books she read. And they were more than just how she made her living in the world. She loved getting lost in the pages of another world for hours on end. She could imagine the worlds, the characters, the feelings in each and every page; she could figure them out. They were easy to understand. She thought she understood people as easily but with Taylor’s problems over the last few months and then with everything that was happening in her own life.

Of all the things Dylan could have told her about that morning, nothing would have set her so far on edge as that. She couldn’t deny she’d thought about it; wondered. She was a healthy young woman and he was a gorgeous and very sweet man. But she cared too much about him and their relationship as it was to say or do anything that could potentially ruin what they had now. She could say what she wanted to say and suffer with the consequences of it, but that meant there was a chance she would lose Dylan as a friend. And she really did not want that. So now she was stuck with saying something she wouldn’t regret or saying nothing at all. It was a dilemma.

More than anything, Bridget was sure she was going into some form of shock at the news of what almost happened that morning; and how much she really would not have minded if it had. Her eyes snapped to focus on Dylan when he spoke again, not realising she’d completely zoned out for a minute to gather her wits about her. She hadn’t noticed she’d put the cap on the bottle and let her hands, clinging to the bottle drop to her knees. She nodded as he left, not trusting herself to speak just yet. When the hell had she become so awkward. She used to be good at this, when did it all go downhill? Her mother would be so disappointed in her. Needing to do something, Bee set the bottle of water down on the chair as she stood and moved over to the wall that hid an impressive collection of movies and the equipment to play them. She picked a case at random put it in the player and returned to the seat she’d vacated, falling into it with her thumb nail between her teeth. With the remote she’d taken from the hidden cupboard, he hit the proper button when the menu sprang to life on the large screen before tossing the device to another chair, immediately forgetting about it.

She turned at the noise of someone entering the room again and relief clouded her judgement. She wasn’t sure what that meant she thought of Dylan or even herself for that matter but she wouldn’t have blamed him if he had just said that to give himself an excuse to leave. She was ridiculous. What was the worst that could happen? They would go from dinner and movie nights to awkward hello’s in the hall whenever they happened to run into each other. And as terrible as that sounded, it was still a better outcome to saying nothing at all and drifting quickly apart. “Sorry, I don’t have an excuse for that. It was stupid but what do you want me to say, Dylan? That I wish I hadn’t been hung over, so I could have found out if reality is better than my imagination. Because I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it,” she said honestly, curling up further in the chair she’d taken over. The movie on the screen was forgotten as she looked up at Dylan, waiting for him to say something, anything at all.

Tag || Dylan! <3
Words || 663
Clothes || Flour Girl
Music || Rain Falls Down - - -We The Kings
Notes || <3

[Dylan Ellis Griffin]

After a light shrug, Dylan held his hands up in mock surrender. “Hey, I’ve been on the road since Friday morning, cut me some slack.”

[/color] Part of him was surprised he wasn’t more exhausted. Sure, he’d had sufficient stops at motels along the way, but he had been up and away from then not long after the dawn chorus woke him. Even counting all the breaks, Dylan expected to be tired, and he had a sneaky suspicion it would hit him a little later in the day, once his surprise and reuinion with bridget had settled down slightly.

He hadn’t meant to make things awkward. He just felt that she had a right to know about that morning and he knew it would keep preying on him until he did the right thing and told her about it. However, with it off his chest, it didn’t seem to help Dylan rid the thoughts from his mind. Luckily, that morning, he had crashed back to reality a second before anything could happen or before his actions could wake Bridget up, but his mind still seemed to like to wander back to that wonderful land of what if and never were from time to time. He wasn’t about to spill that in the same mouthful as his first confession, at least not until she had processed and accepted what he had just told her.

Back in the theatre, his blue eyes fell on her for a moment and he flashed her a small smile before silently stripping out of his current shirt and fumbling for a moment with the fresh one before smoothing it down over his torso. He took the first one with him, folding it in half and placing it over the back of the chair next to Bridget, which he fell then into. Uncapping his water, he silently glanced at the screen, not recognising the movie from the opening scene as he raised the bottle to his lips. It was only the sound of Bee’s voice that caught his attention and made him turn slightly to face her. He listened to her, unable to fight off the boyish smirk that twitched at the corners of his lips, lifting them upwards. There was a beat after she finished and then Dylan spoke up, his voice soft and his words honest. “You’re not the only one; especially since that morning.”[/color] He kept his eyes fixed on her, still sensing the tension in the room but not unable to decide if it was still a lingering awkwardness or his own imagination trying to create excuses. “We’re good, always will be.”[/color] He told her before foolishly letting his guard slip and allowing his eyes to flicker down to her full lips for a lingering second. It was for just a second, but it was long enough. Reaching across, he moved the blonde hair from her face, letting his hand linger on her cheek as his thumb brushed gently across her cheekbone. “At the risk of making things awkward again and ruining what I just said…may I?”[/color] His voice was barely a whisper and he felt a small voice shouting at him from somewhere inside, telling him it was a silly move, but hell, if all the cards were on the table…he waited for her answer, his eyes fixed on hers.
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• • •

TAGGED! Bee <3
WORDS! 599!
OUTFIT! Biker Boy!
LYRICS! I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles) - - - The Proclaimers
NOTES! <3 <3 <3

[Bridget Cameron Delaynee]

“I’ll let it slide,” she said, grinning as she added, “This time.” When she had driven home, she hadn’t stopped for longer than ten minutes here and there. And that was mostly for the dogs to get out and do their thing. She was fine behind the wheel of her SUV and with all the coffee, energy drinks and excitement, there was no way Bee could have slept if she wanted to. The trip home might have been her working with her mother on this occasion or that one but it was still home, still family time. And now that she was home, she was almost wishing time would stretch out a bit more. But there were things that had to be done back in New York and she was the only one capable of doing them, so going home had to happen eventually. It wasn’t like the dogs would mind; they loved having the big backyard to run around in and her parents’ dogs to play with. Even now, she had no clue where any of the five dogs.

Bridget realised Dylan wasn’t telling her this to make things awkward but because he thought she needed to know. And maybe she did, but she felt a little dizzy knowing what almost happened. It had sent her back to that morning, and the reason behind her disoriented state. It may not have been all that long ago, but she was already over it. All it did now was make her feel like an idiot for sticking around so long and trying despite everything to make it work. She hated liars after all, and she could never get a straight answer out of the man. She really should have known better; especially considering nobody had been fond of the cop.

She was nervous, she felt like she could practically cut the tension with a knife. A smirk had the corner of her mouth turning up a little and pink colouring her cheeks. She dropped her hands to her crossed legs, sighing. “Vous dites que maintenant,” she muttered, automatically slipping into what she was comfortable with. It wasn’t because she knew Dylan had to take his time to translate what she was saying; it was just easier for her to get her thoughts out. It was the first language she’d learned, well before her parents even started teaching her English for school. She couldn’t blink; she couldn’t find words to say. For once since she had learned to speak, she lost the ability to speak. So instead, wide, pale eyes glued to Dylan’s, she nodded and waited for what came next.

Tag || Dylan! <3
Words || 439
Clothes || Flour Girl
Music || Rain Falls Down - - -We The Kings
Notes || <3

[Dylan Ellis Griffin]

Rolling his pale eyes, Dylan shook his head, but didn’t even try to hide his smirk. “Oh, it’s much appreciated.”

[/color] If he had borrowed his ma’s car he would’ve probably arrived the day before, but Dylan had always preferred his bike to anything else. He just had to stop more frequently to stretch his legs and take a break since he didn’t exactly have much choice about moving about in his seat, shifting when he got slightly uncomfortable. Still, the drive had been a pleasant one and it made him wish even more than he could use his bike for the diving trips. However, that was all something for another time. He actually had come out here for a reason, or rather a number of them, and now that he was here it didn’t matter how long or what method of transportation he had used. At least, none of that mattered to him.

Revisiting painful pasts and reopening old wounds was not something Dylan made a habit of doing. In fact, he detested it. He hated seeing the people he cares about upset or hurt and he hates it even more when he knows he holds some responsibility for that. He knew that morning was a difficult one to approach when it wasn’t silly jokes and flirty little comments like they always shared. Telling Bridget had been the right thing to do; he knew that and felt better now that it was out there and she hadn’t instantly screamed for him to get out and get back to New York.

He didn’t even let his mind worry about the French words slipping from her lips. He would have needed a moment to string it all together, but none of the words flagged any familiar warning bells in his head, so he could worry about it later if he needed to. He saw Bridget nod, felt his lips twitch upwards as he leaned closer and then, just when he was an inch away from kissing her, he stopped. His smirk returned and he looked at her with a mischievous twinkle in his light eyes. “Actually no.”[/color] He looked at her for a moment longer before pushing himself to his feet and pulling Bridget with him. “It needs to better. You deserve better than some awkward kiss.”[/color] He told her, pulling her away from where she had been sitting and then casually leaving her side to look at the movie collection the family had. He let the silence fall for a moment and then turned back with a charming smile and offered her his hand. “Dance with me.”[/color] He took her hand before she could answer, falling in step with the soundtrack playing on the movie. Dylan was acting silly, spinning her out and dipping her like he had done at the ball. The ball seemed like a lifetime ago, but it had really only been a handful of weeks since the event. As the scene drew to a close on the screen, Dylan spun Bridget so that she ended up with her back to his chest by the time the music faded out completely. He held her there, his hand resting softly on her hip while the other held her hand. Softly, tenderly, he planted three light butterfly kisses along her neck, pausing to let his breath wash over her skin before he slowly turned her in his arms. His eyes met hers with a romantic sparkle and Dylan waited just a short second before tilting her chin, and then it happened. His lips brushed hers once, twice and then for a third time. He didn’t push her or increase the intensity, but the spark was there and it was impossible to ignore it. Pulling away just enough to rest his forehead against hers, Dylan didn’t open his eyes and his lips tingled from the sweet contact of Bridget’s. Of all the ways he might have imagined it, none of them had his heart pounding as much as that brief moment did.
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• • •

TAGGED! Bee <3
WORDS! 713!
OUTFIT! Biker Boy!
LYRICS! I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles) - - - The Proclaimers
NOTES! <3 <3 <3