Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

She woke up to the annoyingly loud blare of her phone alarm. Fuck. It was a weekday so it was a workday. She opened one eye, not picking her face up from the smoosh of her pillow, to reach for her phone. At least she had thought to put it in its place on her nightstand charger before bed last night. Wait. She didn’t really remember getting into bed last night. This thought made her shoot up to sit, which she instantly regretted as her head throbbed with a hangover headache. A glass of water and the bottle of Tylenol from her bathroom had also found their way to the nightstand last night too. She realized she was still in her clothes from the night before, peering down to the floor her little suede booties were sitting neatly set together at the end of her bed.

She checked her phone and saw a string of messages from Colin.

Well double fuck. She did not remember anything after her fourth glass of pinot grigio. Apparently Colin brought her home, to the mess of her apartment, and had been a perfect gentleman about it. Her head was pounding too hard to even begin to piece together what might have happened at the bar with him. With him and all his workmates that were actually world famous actors and screenwriters and directors. She fell back onto her pillow and texted her boss. She’d never missed work for a hangover, but there was no way she was going to be able to drag herself out of this apartment in the next twelve hours, let alone in time to catch her 8 AM bus to downtown.

She quickly tugged off the black tights from last night, and her favourite lilac wide whale corduroy miniskirt. She flung them into her hamper along with the vintage Spice Girls tour tee shirt she had worn to the pub. At least she had looked cute, despite how likely it was that she had rambled and overshared in front of most of the cast of the most popular show on television. She slipped on her dressing gown and flopped back into bed with a groan.

One thing she very, absolutely, crystal clearly remembered was that kiss. That moment in the booth when she had leaned in just that extra, unnecessary centimeter and for some reason she had hoped that the look in his eyes meant he wanted to put his lips on hers. As if he could read her thoughts he had done it. And it was stunning, and perfect, and just what she had been hoping it would feel like, ever since the first time she’d laid eyes on his damn pouty mouth.

And it was all for show because of course it was. The perfect cover he had confirmed right after. Seen by his crewmates and the cast, all to make sure she got to meet them, and he didn’t get in trouble for bringing her there. Well, she had gotten to meet Alfred Debling, she remembered that through the white wine fog clinging to her brain. She had met him, he was just as handsome in person, very kind and surprisingly a bit shy. So she can’t have the behind the scenes access and the guy? Who was she to complain? 

Penelope finally rolled out of bed shortly after 10. She had fallen back into a light doze after her chat with Colin, which had resulted in some very vivid dreams. She woke with a start, brushing her finger tips along her lower lip trying to recall the feeling of the press of his lips. If they ever did that again what would it be like? Would his tongue be urgent, greedy, sloppy? Or would he be tentative and careful? She really did not care either way she felt so desperate for the answer. If she allowed him to, would he want to touch her? What would he touch? Would he grab at the fat on her stomach, hips, ass? Or would he relegate himself to only those places men typically liked the heft to sit on a woman’s body? Where did he like to be touched? Would he want her to squeeze and prod? Or smooth over his own soft flesh with gentleness?

She laid in her sheets debating a full-blown body spiral or getting out her vibrator. She talked herself out of both options and instead made breakfast and called her younger sister, Felicity. She was her best friend and a chat with her was the best way to kick away any undesirable mood – including an urge to overthink.

“Shit – we didn’t have plans for tonight did we?” Felicity answered the phone with none of the typical ceremony of hello, or how are you? Penelope could only chuckle in response because she was only half surprised.

“No. Nothing I know of.”

“Oh. Then … Why are you calling me?”

“Geez Fel –”

“You know I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just you never call me from work unless it’s to confirm details about plans we have or whatever.” Her sister responded with a tiny hint of remorse.

“Well this is the whatever, I suppose.”

“I suppose it is. How are you, Penelope?” Felicity put on a formal tone to her question.

“I’m fine. Just hanging out at home, slightly bored.”

“Home? But it’s a workday. Are you finally taking some time to yourself? I’m so proud of my big sister!”

“I just took one day off. I wasn’t feeling great.”

“Hmmmm … what kind of not feeling great?” Her sister pried.

“The too much wine last night kind.”

“Well now I’m doubly proud. You’re really coming out of her hermit shell these past few months, Penelope. Fun with your new fandom friends last night, I assume.” 

Penelope paused for a second, “yes.” She lied.

“You’re such a liar, Penelope! I can hear it in your voice. So … Who is he?” 

“Who's who?” Penelope feigned ignorance.

“The man you're obviously spending all your free time with.” She declared with her typical bluntness.

“Felicity I'm not–” She heard the beleaguered sigh through the phone.

“You've stopped sending me High Stakes and romance book memes and reels. So obviously you are sending them to someone else.” 

Penelope paused to gather her thoughts.

“My algorithm has changed. I just haven't been seeing things I thought you'd appreciate.”

“Oh no! Have you fallen into the manosphere? Are you a tradewife now?” Her sister said with mock horror. “That has literally never stopped you from DMing me anything before. And you haven't posted any new makes so clearly someone else is getting all your free time.”

“I've been working on my bridesmaid dress. And I'm not going to post anything about it, the colour is so horrid.”

“Have you stopped working on the garden gown?” Felicity sounded hurt, as if the sage green dress was for her instead of Penelope.

“Just for now. Because of the wedding.” Penelope didn't know why that felt like a lie.

“Okay–” Felicity did not sound like she believed her.

“So what are you up to, aren’t you supposed to be at work too?” Penelope tried to redirect the conversation.

“I’m walking Lady. One of the advantages of working from home is that you can take mental health dog walks during the day so your sister can call you and tell you all about her new boyfriend.”

Shit. The redirect hadn’t worked.

“He’s not really my boyfriend, Felicity.”

“So there is a man, he’s just not your man – yet.”

Penelope relented, “something like that.”

“Well tell me what the something is and we can work it all out before I meet him at Prudence’s wedding.”

“Oh, he’s definitely not coming to the wedding. We’re nowhere close to the wedding date stage. In fact there is NO stage. We’re not even in the green room. He’s not even in the audience.”

“Has he bought a ticket?” Felicity took a long pause, “wait, this analogy is kind of confusing. Can you just explain what is actually happening with this man?”

“I met Colin about a month ago and we’ve just … hung out a few times. But we’re not actually dating. At least, he is just pretending we’re dating for …” Penelope wasn’t sure how to finish the explanation without sounding utterly desperate and a little star-struck by his job. That all of this mess was because of a tv show and her inability to tell a man that she was interested in him. But she pushed forward with it, because if anyone would be able to offer her advice, it would be her younger sister.

“He works behind the scenes on High Stakes, so he’s in the city while it’s filming. And he knows I’m a big fan of the show and so he offered to let me tag along with him to some cast and crew parties as his girlfriend. And he is so gorgeous and very kind so he is letting me live my fangirl dream because there is nothing better for him to do in this city I guess.” She bit her lip waiting for Felicity to say something, or laugh, or groan with second-hand embarrassment.

But Felicity’s voice was very calm and steady when she did respond, “so you’re moonlighting as the girlfriend to an extremely attractive man and you got to meet the cast of your favourite tv show?”

“Yes.” Penelope felt slightly chastened.

“If he’s hot and seemingly nice, why aren’t you two actually dating?”

“It’s complicated,” Penelope breathed out, half hoping Felicity wouldn’t really hear it. Was it complicated? Or was it just difficult? Penelope didn’t want to admit to herself that there was nothing complicated about the way she felt about Colin. Every time they spent time together, any time they talked, whenever she sent him a stupid meme and he sent her one right back; she felt it. She was ridiculously attracted to him. From the moment she had spun around she’d fallen into those bright green eyes, and succumbed to that charming smile. And getting to know him was only making that ache of want worse. The only complication was that she was not brave enough to ever admit any of this to him. 

“So I will meet him at Pru’s wedding then?” Felicity interrupted her heart fluttering  thoughts of Colin.

“um … I couldn't just ask him … could I?”

“Of course you can! Your voice is all floaty and soft now that you're talking about him. Obviously you have a great big juicy crush. So I have to meet him. You're my beautiful, talented, kick ass older sister. The one who I actually like. So you're going to ask this man to our sister's tacky ass wedding because you deserve nice things too.”

Penelope paused. Soaking in the kind words while also considering the challenge in them. She did not feel kick ass in any way, ever. She would not deny some of her talents, but she mostly felt meek and overwhelmed by life, unable to approach situations without shrinking at the fear of risk and ruin.

“Well thank you for the pep talk Fel. I’m not sure you needed to throw Prudence under the bus like that, but I appreciate it all the same.” She replied with levity.

“I love you, Pen. Most of all. More than anyone else.”

“I love you too. Just as much as I hate the yellow dress I’m currently looking at.”

“Hey?” Penelope answered the phone tentatively when she saw Colin’s name pop up with the ringing incoming call.

“Hi! You sound like you’re feeling better. Hope I didn’t wake you sleeping it off or anything.” He sounded excited just to hear her voice and her heart did a somersault.

“No, I haven’t been sleeping. Just … lazing. I took the day off work – something I practically never do.”

“Good for you. You deserve a day to relax.”

“I have weekends off,” she laughed back. “I’m plenty rested. But it is nice to not have to work while hung over.”

“Speaking of weekends … I know we just spent last evening together, but we all have tomorrow off, and I was chatting with Genevieve … she’s the costume manager for the show –”

“I know who she is,” Penelope interrupted animatedly.

“Heh, of course you do.” She could hear the smile in his voice. “Well, I heard her talking about some thrift stores and fabric shops near that café we went to the other week, and I just happened to mention I’d been to the area, and that I knew someone that would be a great tour guide for that kind of thing because of all the sewing and shopping you do there …”

Penelope gulped back the fear about what she anticipated was coming next. It was fear, but tinged with an eagerness she couldn’t quite comprehend. Was this really happening? 

“So I kind of invited myself and you out with her and her assistant, Katie. You met Katie last night … if you can remember?” He finished the proposal. 

And there it was – the eagerness flipped to exhilaration, but quickly spiralled down into the tile floor of her kitchen as she stood speechless at this offer. Fabric shopping with Genevieve Delacroix?! The Genevieve Delacroix, famous costume designer? How was this her real life?

It hit her again, that this was her life because of Colin. Because he was being so kind to open his life and career to give her these opportunities to experience something that so few people ever would. It didn’t even really have anything to do with her being a fan of High Stakes at this point, meeting and spending time with one of her design idols? How could he just offer this up so easily? As if he was getting anything near equivalent from her in return?

“Are you busy tomorrow? I know it’s last minute …” he sounded a bit crestfallen as he continued. Like the silence from her preceded a rejection.

“Of course not! This is amazing, really. Thank you. You have no idea what this means to me.” She reassured him.

“Oh, Good! I mean, I know you’re into that sort of thing. The sewing and designing. I may have peeked at that dress you’re making for your sister’s wedding when I dropped you off. And that green one was … wow.”

“Oh? You noticed that?”

“Yeah, sorry. I just saw it there and it was so stunning. And then I was moving some stuff around for Gen this morning and heard them chatting about going shopping and couldn’t help myself but offer up your city guide services.” He sounded almost bashful.

“Really, it’s fine. Amazing actually. I can’t believe I’m going to chat about sewing with Genevieve Delacroix!”

“You can just call her Gen, I’m sure,” he chuckled.

She winced at herself, “oh right, yeah. I won’t call her full name to her face. I promise I won’t embarrass you. You won’t regret this, I swear.”

“I have no doubt you’ll be perfect. And I hope you don’t mind that I’m tagging along too, even though I don’t know anything about making clothes or designing or anything like that.”

She giggled back, “maybe you’ll learn something.”

“Maybe.”

When they ended the call she jumped around her kitchen in circles dancing to music that was only playing in her head. She was about to have an experience straight out of a fantasy. And it was all thanks to him. She wouldn’t deny that Colin being there too was a huge part of her excitement for tomorrow. An apprehension beat through her, but only temporarily. This was a bit nerve-wracking, meeting this paragon of style. But it was also not an opportunity she could turn down, especially with Colin going out of his way to arrange it. Penelope knew just what she would wear, wanting to impress Genevieve as best she could. One of her favourite ‘cool casual’ outfits: a patchwork skirt she had made from several salvaged pairs of jeans, and an oversized watermelon patterned sweater she bought from a fancy department store (on clearance sale, of course). She just hoped she wouldn’t do or say anything foolish in front of undoubtedly the most creative person she would ever meet.

Colin never seemed to get more than ten paces from the group of women as they moved through the racks at the vintage clothing store. He seemed to listen intently to their conversation as he fiddled with the hangers along the long hanging bars stuffed with shirts and jackets. Just as Penelope had hope, as soon as Colin had greeted her out front of the first shop with a tight hug and that achingly handsome smile, Gen and Katie had ushered into their conversation asking her all about her own experience drafting patterns, sewing clothing, and hacking vintage finds. Colin didn’t really get a word in, but did not seem to mind simply observing.

“I think I’m going to get this one,” Gen held up a mahogany brown leather jacket. The right breast pocket was ripped off so the leather under the stitching was marred. “I think I can repair it,” she added.

“I would put on a new pocket I think. The easiest fix I think.” Penelope said as she inspected the punctures from the stitches that had been removed. “A contrasting leather if you can’t find a match. Make it a feature instead of a flaw.” She bit her lip suddenly, realizing she just gave style advice to a designer.

“That would be perfect,” Gen smiled back. “And you’re right, it would be quick. I could wear it next week with a bit of hand stitching.”

“I don’t do a lot of vintage salvaging, but I do try to fix up my own clothing. I’ve been trying to improve my sashiko skills.”

“What’s that?” Colin asked from the other side of the clothing rack she was currently rifling through.

“It's visible mending. Like you put on a fabric patch that’s meant to stand out, and you put decorative stitches over top of it to strengthen it, but also make it a part of the design.”

“Like those jeans you have,” he recalled and she was a bit taken aback that he remembered her outfit from a few weeks ago.

“Yes. Those jeans are my on-going practice piece.”

“I’d love to see them,” Katie said. “Next time you come hang out with everyone I demand you wear your cool jeans.”

They all laughed, but Penelope thought she might float away. She felt so dizzy with excitement. This was like an out-of-body experience.

“How long have you been sewing for? Is that what you do for your job too?”

Penelope smiled to herself, “I learned to sew when I was a child. But no, it’s not my job. I’m a financial analyst. I just make things for a hobby.”

“Everyone needs a hobby,” Gen responded lightly.

“Penelope has a million hobbies it seems. She’s like the most creative person I’ve ever met,” Colin said proudly. “Besides you, Gen.” He added quickly.

“I should take you down to the maker space down the street. They sell deadstock and vintage fabrics. The owner scours charity shops and estate sales for stock.” Penelope said, wanting to not be the centre of attention any longer.

“Oh amazing!” Katie and Gen squealed in unison. 

“I love deadstocks, it’s nice to save stuff like that from the landfill.” Gen said.

“Yeah. And the prices are unbelievable – I cannot leave without something for a new project anytime I pop in just to look.”

“I know what that’s like,” Gen replied with a smile.

As they toured around the oversized bins in the small, overstuffed fabric store, lifting and inspecting the large rolls of satins and crepes, Penelope noticed Colin stalk off towards the door.

“Mum? Hi …” was all she caught before he was outside pacing back and forth in front of the large window, chatting with his mother, apparently. She tried not to watch him, but she was extremely curious to see the expression on his face. Was this phone call a good thing? Did he enjoy speaking with this mother? Or was their ‘date’ at the pub with his co-workers blowing up in his face with this family?

When he re-entered the shop he was all smiles as his eyes met hers, but he kept his distance as the women finished up having their selections cut and packaged.

“Thank you so much for showing us this amazing little shopping area, Penelope.” Genevieve said as she hugged her goodbye. She and Colin watched the two women walk away towards where Gen’s car was parked, and then they continued to casually stroll along the sidewalk without a set destination.

“Did you have a good time?” Colin finally broke the silence between them, turning to face her and reaching to take her shopping bags.

“Yes. Today was like a dream. Thank you so much for arranging it. I know I promised to get more creative with my thank yous, but words are escaping me at the moment.”

He smiled so broadly she felt that ache in her heart, and when he met her gaze she also felt a heat throb between her legs.

“Well, maybe you could show me a new restaurant as thanks. Are you free for an early dinner?” 

She directed her line of sight past him to where a few casual eateries were grouped together near a pedestrian crossing.

“Yes, of course. There is a really great burger place just up there; and they have like fifteen beers on tap or something ridiculous like that.”

“That sounds perfect.” He turned back around to see where she had indicated and took her hand as they headed towards the restaurant.

“So, the British … Bloke, I think they call them?” Marcella joked as she wrapped her arms around Penelope’s shoulders in a hug. “What’s the story? I didn’t know you were seeing anyone.”

“Yeah, we’ve been hanging out for a bit.” She tried to avoid providing any actual information about the situation. “How have you been?”

“Great. And hungry. I’ve heard the food here is great.” Marcella responded as she retook her seat, the table in front of her was piled with skeins of embroidery floss and fabric. 

The group had booked out a large table at a vegan restaurant for their bi-weekly craft and chat; everyone bringing different projects or supplies for some sort of artistic endeavour regardless of skill level. They mostly chatted about High Stakes episodes, the novels, show rumours, the actors, or other romance books while they all busied their hands with something. Colouring, bracelet making, Penelope always brought along her latest knitting project; it was an on-going joke that it was the slowest pair of socks to ever emerge, since she only seemed to work on it on these evenings out. She didn’t mind though, these past few months of meet-ups with these new friends who were becoming regular fixtures in her life. The slow progress on the socks marked time deepening connections over shared passions.

Penelope felt a new lightness as they all chatted away at this dinner. It seemed to chase away her internal awkwardness about forcing herself to be social. Each time anyone mentioned a filming rumour, or an in-town cast spotting she had to bite back her smile knowing she could confirm the truth or inaccuracy in what they were discussing. She felt the last few days jumping up her throat. If only she could tell them she had met Agatha Danbury, and half the cast. She longed to talk about the amazing day she had spent with Genevieve discussing costumes and sewing projects. But she knew she could not  share any of the amazing opportunities she’d been so lucky to have without revealing the truth about how she had this access, and potentially blow-up Colin’s career.

When Rose brought up the casting news for Alfred Debling's next project, which only started commentary on how charming and attractive he was, Penelope clenched her fists not to shout, ‘yes, he is that handsome in person, and unbelievably polite!’

“Well, I heard no one on the cast actually likes him,” Cressida cut in from the other end of the table. “Apparently he’s a nightmare to deal with on set. All the young actors just humour him in interviews because he’s so full of himself.”

The group was overtaken with an awkward silence at this bizarre declaration.

“Where did you hear a horrible thing like that?” Rose asked insistently. “That sounds like something one of those Eamon stalkers would make up.”

Cressida just shrugged, refocusing her attention on her sketchbook.

Rose, Marcella, Penelope, and Theo exchanged glances and the conversation shifted away from the show and celebrities for a short time, moving to work, family, upcoming vacations, and plans for attending a local music festival.

The table once again went quiet when their meals arrived, broken only by intermittent offers of tastes of each others’ food, followed by happy sighs. Then an excited shriek pierced through all of the contented mutterings.

“What a gem he is!” Cressida practically shouted, holding her phone aloft. “Alfred just posted a behind the scenes photo dump! He’s so amazing to this fandom.”

The rest of the group quickly dropped their cutlery and opened Instagram. They all followed most of the cast, so this new post was at the top of everyone’s feed.

“I heard they are shooting mostly in studio now, so it will be harder to hunt them down on location.”

“I don’t know where you always hear these rumours, Cressida. We all follow the same people online and I never see these types of details and specifics.” Marcella responded with a hint of annoyance in her voice that Penelope was sure only she caught. They all continued to flip through the pictures in the post, squealing at each of the tiny glimpses of the upcoming season. Penelope didn’t touch her phone, instead watching her friends excitedly react. This is why she loved fandom. It was the shared excitement and happiness that made it so easy to connect with people. These were her people – thrilled for some black and white photos of camera rigs and obstructed set views.

“OMG,” Rose declared, “I think that’s Seamus and Charles' new house – this photo is going to launch a thousand fan fics about them decorating it!”

Suddenly a phone was thrust in front of her face, it took her a second to focus on the screen. On the specific photo being displayed.

“Penelope, you have been holding out on us,” Marcella said quietly, looking her in the eyes discreetly so as to not catch the attention of all their other friends. “Your British bloke works for the show?”

“Um …” She squinted her eyes pretending she couldn’t see Colin standing in the background of a group shot of the crew behind the camera. “Yes?” she added after a long pause.

“What?!” Theo turned in her direction excitedly. “You’re dating someone from the show?”

“How did you meet? What is he like? Which one is he?” Rose squealed excitedly as she flipped through the photos on her phone.

Marcella pointed him out to their friends, giving Penelope a wink.

“Yes, he is that handsome in person. I ran into them on a date the other week,” she confirmed. “And his accent is just …” she didn’t bother finishing her sentence but her smile made her point. 

“So give us all the season two gossip! I need to know how much screen time the new couple is going to have!” Cressida demanded.

Penelope wrinkled her nose and shook her head, “oh, I don’t know anything about that. I don’t know anything at all really.”

“Liar! Spill the details.”

Penelope bit her lip and tried not to hold any of her friends' eager gazes.

“All I know is that he had to get a lot of plants for one of the apartment sets, and that they needed like six lighting rigs for some underground parking lot scene.” She shrugged weakly.

“So he’s just some lackey that moves stuff around for the real crew? He clearly doesn’t know anything about the show itself.” Cressida huffed.

“He’s a production assistant. He does what needs to be done to get the shots and make the scenes work how the director and writers envision.” Penelope said with a bit more confidence. Colin was definitely not just some hired hand and she suddenly felt defensive.

“Cressida, she's not dating him for behind the scenes access. It's just a nice bonus,” Marcella defended.

Penelope had to mask the guilty expression that she assumed was plain on her face. Because in reality she was pretending to date him for that exact reason. But come to think of it, whenever she and Colin spent time together they didn't really talk about the show at all.

“Well what good is he then,” Cressida said with a sarcastic laugh.

“He's so pretty to look at,” Rose added with a genuine smile. “Good for you, girl.”