Fluffy AU for day two! (This one is the exception to my they-could-all-be-one-story story...)
DAY TWO: iktsuarpok - the feeling of anticipation when waiting for someone to come over to your home
Beth glanced nervously around her apartment, checking once again to see if anything was out of place. She was never messy, exactly, but she did tend to leave things scattered most of the time, and she had to tidy up before her company came over. She wanted to make a good impression.
The thought of her guests, due to arrive shortly, kicked up the butterflies in her stomach and left her giddy and breathless. Rick Grimes and Daryl Dixon. She'd been moving into the apartment, having a hard enough time getting the boxes off the truck and up the stairs and wondering how in the world she was going to manage the furniture by herself, when they appeared on the sidewalk and offered to lend her a hand. She thought about declining--it was a new neighborhood, she wasn't familiar with the surroundings, they were both complete strangers, and Daryl at least looked kinda rough around the edges--but it had been a long day and she had to get the truck back to the rental place before they closed, so she took them up on the offer.
She looked around one more time before heading into the kitchen to check on the lasagna in the oven. How she'd gone from second-guessing the wisdom in accepting their help to inviting them over for dinner still seemed like an odd jump, but there it was. They didn't have to spend an entire afternoon helping her move in, after all, and she wanted to do something to return the favor. She couldn't do much, being a standard college student with a tight budget, but she could make a mean lasagna, if she did say so herself.
She thought back to that phone call to Rick, dialing the number he'd given her "in case she needed anything" and wondering if he'd pick up, if she was overstepping herself, if he was trying to come onto her, if he thought she was trying to come onto him... He'd been just as courteous on the phone as he was in person, agreeing to dinner and to bringing Daryl along. Now it was the night of, and she was as nervous as if it was a date.
Not a date, she told herself. It was just her first run as hostess in her own home, a home she had only just gotten settled into. Of course she was nervous. It had nothing to do with the fact that both Rick and Daryl were perfectly attractive men, Rick the quintessential southern gentleman and Daryl the epitome of mysterious bad boy. That had absolutely nothing to do with it.
Looking around the apartment one more time, she decided the place looked neither too messy, too girly, too cheap or too snobby. She checked her appearance in the bathroom mirror and concluded she looked presentable enough without trying too hard. Dinner was almost ready; she had salad, garlic bread and steamed vegetables to go with the lasagna and she'd splurged on a bottle of wine and thanked her lucky stars her mom had taught her how to properly set a dinner table--
Wait, what was that smell?
She hurried into the kitchen, fearing the worst as she opened the oven door and took out the lasagna. She had no idea how old the appliances were, but it looked like the heating element in the oven was not what it used to be, with one half of the lasagna barely lukewarm and the other burned on the top and cooked to the bottom.
Wondering how much time she had before they arrived, she scrambled for extra pots and pans, throwing dry spaghetti on to boil and opening a couple cans of premade sauce. It wasn't the end of the world, she could recover in time--
She moved to set the ruined lasagna aside on the counter where it would be out of the way, and the heavy dish slipped from her hand at the last minute, hitting the edge of the counter and landing facedown on the kitchen floor, sauce splattering everywhere, and she leaped back to stay clear of the mess, knocking the bottle of wine over and smashing it next to the lasagna.
She was still staring in shock at the sauce-and-Sauvignon disaster when there was a knock on the door and her heart sank. So much for a good impression...
Taking a deep breath and bracing herself to meet her fate with as much dignity as possible, she took the chain off the door and turned the deadbolt, opening the door to see Rick and Daryl standing in the hallway. Both were looking better than she remembered, dressed in button-downs and blue jeans, Rick carrying a bottle of red wine and Daryl carrying white. "Weren't sure what you preferred," Rick explained, smiling.
"Oh," she replied. "I mean, thank you. Come on in--" she held the door open and stepped back to let them inside. "Dinner should be about ready, I just gotta take a look..."
"What's that?" Daryl asked, gesturing to the floor, and Beth felt a stab of panic. The spilled wine had run across the linoleum and was soaking into the living room carpet.
"Shit!" she burst out, rushing to the kitchen and grabbing clean towels. "No, no, no, damn it--" she dropped a towel onto the stain and started compressing it with the urgency of a medic performing CPR.
She didn't notice Daryl's approach until he was crouched beside her, taking one of the extra towels. "Got any white vinegar?" he asked. "Should take care of it."
"Uh, yeah...yeah, I've got some," she answered, getting to her feet and checking the cabinets.
"Looks like we could have had better timing," Rick said, taking in the lasagna and broken glass and stepping in to help clean up.
"Yeah, I had, uh, bit of a mishap," she replied, not looking at either of them in her embarrassment. "I can take care of it, you don't have to--"
"'S nothing," Daryl said, accepting the bottle of vinegar from her. "My mom always liked her reds."
"And I'm still working on house breaking my son," Rick added, separating the glass from the food with a sponge.
Beth smiled slowly, feeling better about the whole mess. By the time the three of them finished cleaning up, she'd not only regained her composure but felt much more relaxed. "Thank you," she told them both. "Dinner, anyone?"
