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smallfandomflshTitle: Lost and Found
Author: Kat Lee
Dedicated To: My beloved Drew, who found me and I her
Fandom: Step By Step
Characters/Pairing: Frank/Carol, also mentions Rich/Dana and a few previous romances like Carol/her late husband
Rating: PG-13/T
Challenge/Prompt: Fan-Flashworks #72: Lost and Found and SmallFandomFlsh #128: Beauty
Word Count: 1,156
Summary:
Disclaimer: All characters belong to their rightful owners, not the author.
Her book's been down on her lap for the better part of an hour now. The house is unusually quiet; these wee hours of the morning really are the only calm time in their household. Even JT's asleep now, despite it being a Friday, and Carol can finally lay back, relax, and think.
She watches her husband sleep, as she does rather often. Unlike her, Frank is a light sleeper. She doesn't want to wake him. He's been working hard this week and has to go in again tomorrow. She'll be busy with their kids all day, but she knows he'll be working every bit as hard and his body will tell it by the time he comes home. She smiles, thinking to herself that she'll bring him up to their bedroom as soon as possible for a back rub and a little candlelit magic.
She used to worry if the romance might fizzle out of their relationship. It had with her previous husband, but then, maybe it was because of his sickness. Maybe it was, she thinks, but then, maybe it wasn't. After all, as much as she'd loved him, she loves Frank more.
She can no longer resist. She reaches out and touches her chest, feels his heart beat beneath her palm and the gentle rise and fall of his muscles. She remembers, still, how lost she was after her first husband died. She'd thought she'd truly loved him, and she's sure she did -- just not like she loves Frank.
She'd thought she'd never know romance again, never know love again, that she would die, after raising her children and seeing them off to start their own lives, by herself, a lonely and secretly miserable widow. She'd smiled many of those days for her kids, crying inside all the time, but then she'd met Frank. She'd met Frank, and the Lambert charm, as Dana jestingly calls Frank's excellent attempts to woo her, had totally bowled her over.
She's never known anything like what she feels for Frank. She loves him more than she ever thought possible, and with each day, their love continues to grow. Their bedroom is never dull, even now in the quiet moments of the night that are alive in the sensations the simple feel of her husband beneath her palm sends through her. Carol smiles. She never expected for love to find her again, but thank God, Frank Lambert had found her.
She laughs to herself, her eyes sparkling, as she reminisces that she never expected her Prince Charming to come in to her beauty parlor wearing jeans that were really too tight for him and a flannel shirt. Maybe that was the way with the women in her family, though. Her father hadn't been what her mother had expected, and Dana surely never would have expected to fall in love with Rich.
Opposites attract. She's heard that phrase many times, and in a way, she supposes it's true. She's beauty; he's rough. She's a city girl; he's almost a redneck and probably would be, if she let him. But there are other things, more important things, in which they have in common, beginning with their love for their children and culminating in their love with each other.
"Frank," she whispers, sliding down beside him, "I am so lucky to have found you." She never forgets that. No matter how much they fuss, no matter how many times he lets her down, no matter how often their kids make them scream, she never forgets they are so incredibly lucky to have one another, to have another chance at love, and to have gotten the real thing this time.
She prays she doesn't have to bury him like she did her first husband, but she knows, too, that if she does, unlike her first, her life won't last much longer without him. They're entwined, heart and soul, and where he goes, she surely will follow. She shakes her head. She doesn't want to think about death and dying. Their life is too great and far too grand, despite its simplicity in most areas, for her to ever want it to end. She begins to rub her palm in circles on his chest, massaging him, and turns her full attention back to watching his handsome face.
"Carol," he moans in his sleep, and her smile grows into a wide grin as she realizes he's dreaming about her. She used to dream of Brad Pitt and other stars. Now she only dreams of him. She wants only him. "Hmm . . . Honey . . . You know how I feel . . . Bunny . . . You know what I like . . . "
She pounces on that phrase. Grinning from ear to ear, she whispers back, "Yes, Frank, I certainly do." He likes everything they do together in this room; he loves only her. She removes herself from him, rolls over to her side of their bed, and opens the bottom drawer of her nightstand. She laughs aloud at herself as she extracts the headband with long, white, and floppy bunny ears and the little ball of cotton.
Frank has some of the wildest ideas. She's teased him about it in the past -- they've even made love with him pretending to be Garfield, after all --, but in truth, his never yielding imagination is one of the many things she loves about him. He's always up for a new idea in their boudoir. He keeps their romance alive, young, and sizzling, and she knows he always will. He'll always have new ideas, and she'll always be happy to fulfill them.
She dons the headband, shuts her drawer, and slaps the tail onto her own rear end. Then she returns to her husband and nibbles him awake. "I love you," she whispers, as his eyes flash open, right before he takes her.
Frank doesn't know what he did to deserve a woman like Carol, how he got so lucky to have her in his life, to have her loving him, or even have her playing a bunny for him tonight. He doesn't know how he got so lucky to have found her when he was so completely lost and utterly out of his league, a father forced to be single doing his best to raise three kids and having very little clue as to how to properly take care of them. He'll never know how he got so lucky to have Carol love him, but one things for sure, he thinks as he rolls over on top of her, grabbing what he prays will always belong to him only, he's never letting go. He'll love her for all time and, as corny as it's always sounded in every one of her chick flicks and romance books, even after. He's got real love now, and he's never letting go.
The End
Author: Kat Lee
Dedicated To: My beloved Drew, who found me and I her
Fandom: Step By Step
Characters/Pairing: Frank/Carol, also mentions Rich/Dana and a few previous romances like Carol/her late husband
Rating: PG-13/T
Challenge/Prompt: Fan-Flashworks #72: Lost and Found and SmallFandomFlsh #128: Beauty
Word Count: 1,156
Summary:
Disclaimer: All characters belong to their rightful owners, not the author.
Her book's been down on her lap for the better part of an hour now. The house is unusually quiet; these wee hours of the morning really are the only calm time in their household. Even JT's asleep now, despite it being a Friday, and Carol can finally lay back, relax, and think.
She watches her husband sleep, as she does rather often. Unlike her, Frank is a light sleeper. She doesn't want to wake him. He's been working hard this week and has to go in again tomorrow. She'll be busy with their kids all day, but she knows he'll be working every bit as hard and his body will tell it by the time he comes home. She smiles, thinking to herself that she'll bring him up to their bedroom as soon as possible for a back rub and a little candlelit magic.
She used to worry if the romance might fizzle out of their relationship. It had with her previous husband, but then, maybe it was because of his sickness. Maybe it was, she thinks, but then, maybe it wasn't. After all, as much as she'd loved him, she loves Frank more.
She can no longer resist. She reaches out and touches her chest, feels his heart beat beneath her palm and the gentle rise and fall of his muscles. She remembers, still, how lost she was after her first husband died. She'd thought she'd truly loved him, and she's sure she did -- just not like she loves Frank.
She'd thought she'd never know romance again, never know love again, that she would die, after raising her children and seeing them off to start their own lives, by herself, a lonely and secretly miserable widow. She'd smiled many of those days for her kids, crying inside all the time, but then she'd met Frank. She'd met Frank, and the Lambert charm, as Dana jestingly calls Frank's excellent attempts to woo her, had totally bowled her over.
She's never known anything like what she feels for Frank. She loves him more than she ever thought possible, and with each day, their love continues to grow. Their bedroom is never dull, even now in the quiet moments of the night that are alive in the sensations the simple feel of her husband beneath her palm sends through her. Carol smiles. She never expected for love to find her again, but thank God, Frank Lambert had found her.
She laughs to herself, her eyes sparkling, as she reminisces that she never expected her Prince Charming to come in to her beauty parlor wearing jeans that were really too tight for him and a flannel shirt. Maybe that was the way with the women in her family, though. Her father hadn't been what her mother had expected, and Dana surely never would have expected to fall in love with Rich.
Opposites attract. She's heard that phrase many times, and in a way, she supposes it's true. She's beauty; he's rough. She's a city girl; he's almost a redneck and probably would be, if she let him. But there are other things, more important things, in which they have in common, beginning with their love for their children and culminating in their love with each other.
"Frank," she whispers, sliding down beside him, "I am so lucky to have found you." She never forgets that. No matter how much they fuss, no matter how many times he lets her down, no matter how often their kids make them scream, she never forgets they are so incredibly lucky to have one another, to have another chance at love, and to have gotten the real thing this time.
She prays she doesn't have to bury him like she did her first husband, but she knows, too, that if she does, unlike her first, her life won't last much longer without him. They're entwined, heart and soul, and where he goes, she surely will follow. She shakes her head. She doesn't want to think about death and dying. Their life is too great and far too grand, despite its simplicity in most areas, for her to ever want it to end. She begins to rub her palm in circles on his chest, massaging him, and turns her full attention back to watching his handsome face.
"Carol," he moans in his sleep, and her smile grows into a wide grin as she realizes he's dreaming about her. She used to dream of Brad Pitt and other stars. Now she only dreams of him. She wants only him. "Hmm . . . Honey . . . You know how I feel . . . Bunny . . . You know what I like . . . "
She pounces on that phrase. Grinning from ear to ear, she whispers back, "Yes, Frank, I certainly do." He likes everything they do together in this room; he loves only her. She removes herself from him, rolls over to her side of their bed, and opens the bottom drawer of her nightstand. She laughs aloud at herself as she extracts the headband with long, white, and floppy bunny ears and the little ball of cotton.
Frank has some of the wildest ideas. She's teased him about it in the past -- they've even made love with him pretending to be Garfield, after all --, but in truth, his never yielding imagination is one of the many things she loves about him. He's always up for a new idea in their boudoir. He keeps their romance alive, young, and sizzling, and she knows he always will. He'll always have new ideas, and she'll always be happy to fulfill them.
She dons the headband, shuts her drawer, and slaps the tail onto her own rear end. Then she returns to her husband and nibbles him awake. "I love you," she whispers, as his eyes flash open, right before he takes her.
Frank doesn't know what he did to deserve a woman like Carol, how he got so lucky to have her in his life, to have her loving him, or even have her playing a bunny for him tonight. He doesn't know how he got so lucky to have found her when he was so completely lost and utterly out of his league, a father forced to be single doing his best to raise three kids and having very little clue as to how to properly take care of them. He'll never know how he got so lucky to have Carol love him, but one things for sure, he thinks as he rolls over on top of her, grabbing what he prays will always belong to him only, he's never letting go. He'll love her for all time and, as corny as it's always sounded in every one of her chick flicks and romance books, even after. He's got real love now, and he's never letting go.
The End
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