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Rated: GC · Fiction · Romance/Love · #1528053
A drunken Irish Groom, a caterer and a lesson in taking life by the horns.
Penny yawned and glanced briefly at the clock, praying she had misread it and in fact the weather report was just another part of her dream. Sadly, even when she rubbed her eyes, the clock display was disappointingly the same. 5:25am. Good morning London. Penny sighed and heaved herself into the bathroom, where after a quick shower she felt mildly human. She grabbed at her wardrobe, knowing she would have to put on something respectable. She was seeing the bank manager today. She selected a skirt and top and as she tugged them on, vowed for the umpteenth time that she would start going to the gym more often. Penny drew back the curtains and stared out into the dank blackness that is a London morning. Ground hog day. Get up in the dark to go to work at a job she hated, come home from work in the dark. Sighing, she shrugged on her jacket, shouldered her purse and left her flat.

"Morning Penny, my aren't you a little ray of sunshine then this morning!" Mr Clark handed her a steaming cup of coffee and winked cheerfully at her. How he could be cheery this early in the morning was beyond her. Some people, she guessed, were terminally cheery. The kind you always end up sitting next to on a long train ride.

"I have to see the shark today Clarky, and that is going to wipe the smile off my face permanently I'm sure, so it's better not to bother at all." Penny sipped at the hot liquid as it warmed her hands.

"Of course! The loan approval day! I expect you're pretty worried huh." Penny rolled her eyes.

"Worried isn't even the half of it believe me!" She waved and left the cafe, heading off to her temp job on Victoria Street. As always, she stopped too long staring up at Westminster Cathedral. She envisioned herself bursting through its ancient doors wearing white and gazing adoringly at someone gorgeous in his grey mourning suit. She was so deep in her reverie she ploughed straight into a tall dark haired man wearing a rubber mack and holding a lager, even though it was 6.30am on a Tuesday morning.

"Oh, shit, I'm terribly sorry there miss," he said to her in an Irish brogue, and a muttered "Bugger" to himself when he realised he'd spilled half of the contents of the can down the front of his rubber mack.

"Uh, yeah, me too, sorry about that, I was in a daze." He didn’t acknowledge her, staring in disbelief at the brown foam that dribbled off the rain coat onto the wet ground. Her first instinct was to ignore this potential vagrant and get to work, but on further inspection, she realised his clothes were clean and well cut, the rubber mack, although now covered in beer, appeared to be brand new, and that he was still standing looking at the liquid dribble down his front to the pavement.

"Well, bye then, sorry bout that," she said in an effort to make him notice her standing there, offering her apology. He didn't. He just kept staring at the foam.
"You know, it's not like it's going to stain or anything," she offered. Finally, he raised his head and looked her in the eye, somewhat wobbly. She felt her heart catch in her throat. Dark hair, blue eyes, a puzzled expression on his face, he was gorgeous, even though he was clearly drunk as a skunk. Penny made a conscious effort to smile and even laughed a little at her own joke.

"What?" he asked.

"Your beer, it's not going to stain your coat. It'll just run right off, rather like water off a ducks back really if you think about it." He stared at her for a time, and then, as she watched, totally horrified, he began to cry.

"Oh dear God…not good… there, there… are you alright?" She reached a hand out toward him in concern and mentally went over what she had just said. She couldn't find anything particularly tear-worthy, but then for all she knew, his pet duck had just died. He sniffed.

"S'okay, it's not you, I'm just a little bit sad. I was cheering myself up with this beer, and then that went pear shaped too, and I just, well, it all seems just a bit, sad." He sobbed again and she led him to the steps at the front of the cathedral.

"Here, sit down for a minute." Penny fished in her hand bag for a tissue. "Here you go." He took the tissue and mopped at his face. He had stopped crying but there was a definite droop to his smile. When he spoke, she figured he'd been "on it" for quite some time.

"I'm s’pose to get married ‘morrow y’know. In Ireland. Dublin. In my ma’s garden. To Annie." Penny smiled to herself. A bachelor party gone wrong she thought.

"Are your friends with you? Did they make you come to London for your stag do?" He stared up at her.

“No, m’friends are in Ireland. They're probably wondering where I am. Probably mad at me. I know my ma is."

Penny heard the bells of the Cathedral begin to peel behind her. Quarter to seven. She'd be late for work.

"Well, here, why don't you take the rest of my tissues," she pulled out the pack and handed them to him, "And I'll be on my way. Best of luck for the wedding, er...you didn't tell me your name."

She looked at him. He was staring at her.

"Mine’s Penny." She prompted him.

"Liam." He raised his hand and she shook it briefly.

"Well Liam. I suggest you take a cab to airport and get yourself on the next flight to Dublin eh? Make sure you get there in time." She smiled at him.
"And good luck with Annie."

He tried to smile, which almost made her heart break out of her chest. Her knees went weak. Even a half smile was devastating. He was gorgeous. She silently cursed the absent Annie. Bet she was five foot ten, blonde and gorgeous! His smile faltered as she watched, and she saw him look over her shoulder, then around him.

"Um, Penny? Where am?"

"Victoria St. That’s Westminster behind you there. And a taxi rank just over there." She pointed to the line of black cabs.

"Okay." He lurched to his feet, and began to stagger toward the taxis. She smiled as he criss-crossed the street, and moved on down the road to her office. She was still thinking of Liam when she arrived. And in fact, every time she pictured his handsome face in her mind, a little shiver went up her spine. She was relating the entire incident to Melanie in the kitchen that morning at ten o'clock.

"And he just, what, burst in to tears, right in front of you?"

Penny nodded, smiling.

"And he was wearing a rain coat?"

Penny nodded again.

"And he was Irish?"

Penny nodded once more.

"Sounds like a loony to me." Melanie dismissed the story, and Liam, with the wave of a hand, and a dramatic suck in of her breath.

"You'll never guess who I had a drink with last night!"

Penny sighed and turned back to her cup of tea.

"Prince Charles?"

"No, you dag...."

She always paused for dramatic effect.

"Toby Newbury!"

Penny turned to her.

"You're joking."

Melanie shook her head vehemently.

"Nope, it was Toby, without a doubt. Looking gorgeous and very NOT married!!"

Penny put her hand to her mouth in shock.

"Good lord. You mean Amanda actually left him? I thought that it was all a bunch of lies and more than a few jealous women!"

"Well, from the sounds of it, it was him that left Amanda. Sounds like she was getting a leg over enough blokes for a football team."

Penny raised her eyebrows.

"Bollocks."

"Well it didn't sound like bollocks coming from Toby. In fact, it all seemed totally plausible. He was fantastically sincere.” She let out a jaw cracking yawn.
“And let me tell you, he was sincerely fantastic, I can see exactly why she married him. Although, if I had that at home, I’d never leave. Why go out for a burger when you’ve got fantastically shaggable steak at home?” She grinned roguishly.

“Oh Mel, you didn’t!” Penny shook her head, wondering at her friend’s ability to pull ‘em and flick ‘em. Penny had never had a one night stand in her life.

‘You bet I did, three times! Fantastic arse on him, well worth the complete lack of sleep.” She yawned again for effect and dropped her teabag in the bin.

"Morning ladies. Lunch break is it? Or perhaps you've just decided to go on strike?" Penny quickly picked up her cup and hurried back to her desk. Melanie took her sweet time, and eventually Mr Hargreaves was chasing her to her desk with a stack of faxes. Penny set her cup down and set about her own work and soon, all thoughts of her tea and drunken Irish groom Liam were well forgotten.
__________________________________________________________

Penny tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear and mentally gave herself a pep talk. She was sitting in the loans department of the London Metro Bank, wondering what madness had possessed her to ask them for money.

Okay, come on now Penny, she thought, giving herself a mental kick up the arse. It’ll be fine. The idea has merit. Unless of course they see that you are a 28 year old with very little in the way of assets and a mind for food, not business. Oh dear God, what was she doing here? Her mind was working a million miles an hour, and her palms were sweaty. She saw Fergus Granston put down the telephone at the far desk and make his way back to her.

"Well Miss Simkin. We should have the forms in about three minutes via fax. Then we can go about approving your loan." Granston extended his hand to her. "It's all in order; we'd love to lend you the money."

Penny's heart stopped in her chest and she felt her jaw almost hit the mahogany desk she was sitting in front of.

"You're joking."

Fergus was amused.

"I'm afraid not. But then, if you don't want the thirty thousand pounds I'd be happy to simply shred the faxes and we can go on about our day."

Penny shook her head to clear it and raised a hand.

"No no, I'd like to take your money," she clapped a hand to her mouth. "I mean, I'd be more than happy to accept the loan. Oh, thank you Mr Granston, thanks so much. This is brilliant!" Penny smiled and felt tears spring to her eyes.  "It's happening. It's really happening!"

The rest of the meeting flew by in a daze and before she knew it, Penny was on her way back to Hargreaves Travel with her loan approval in her hand and 30 thousand pounds in her bank account. Her business was finally going to get off the ground! She could escape from Mr Hargreaves and all the terrible old women that wanted to go to Bath for the weekend. She'd be her own boss. Good lord, she'd even get holidays! Penny bounced back into the travel agents and came face to face almost instantly with Mr Hargreaves himself.

"Miss Simkin, it's ten past three. Do you have an explanation?"

Penny was flustered.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry; you see I was seeing my bank manager..."

"Miss Simkin, flights do not book themselves you know. Hotels do not hold rooms for you so that you may book them when you stop fannying around at the bank. I'm going to have to dock your pay. And I shall be putting this on your record."

With that Mr Hargreaves turned on his heel and began to stalk back to his desk, puffed with self importance. Penny’s excitement quickly morphed to outrage. Before she could stop herself, it overflowed.

"Oh no you don't you cranky old bugger."

Phones were replaced on receivers. The photocopier stopped and, as if sensing the importance of what was about to happen, even the fax stopped whirring.

"I beg your pardon?" Hargreaves spun, his neck tinged red.

"You heard me you self important, pompous stuck up bastard. You're a bully. And a fat one at that. You fire orders out around here like you're a drill Sergeant. I've had it up to my eye-teeth, and I'm off to start my own business. I no longer need to kiss up to your forever expanding arse."

Mr Hargreaves began to splutter a little and mouth comebacks that were never able to be vocalised.

'Miss Gardiner?" Penny turned her attention to the Mr Hargreaves secretary.

"Yes Penny?" Miss Gardiner wore a small smile of pleasure.

"Will you write out mine and Melanie's final pay cheques please? We'll be leaving as soon as we get our coats."

Penny strolled past a still flabbergasted Mr Hargreaves and retrieved her handbag and coat. Melanie, grinning form ear to ear, did the same. Miss Gardiner quickly calculated the total and began to scribble furiously into the cheque book. Penny stood eyeing Hargreaves steadily as he began to retaliate.

"You ungrateful, foul mouthed woman. I kept you on out of the goodness of my heart. I could see you were a total failure the day I hired you. And your slutty friend. You should be thanking me for this job. You'll be back, begging me for your job when your pathetic catering fancy fails. And I will be waiting. I give it six months. Six months for you to crash in flames and put together a fantastic apology for me."

With that he grinned. Melanie was laughing like a schoolgirl.

"You know Mr Hargreaves, I thought you were keeping me on so you could keep accidentally touching my bum when you walked past me. And I thought you were keeping me on so that you could accidentally touch my tits when you leant past me at break for the tea."

Hargreaves began to splutter again. Penny calmly collected the cheques and put them in her purse.

"You can take your job and stick it up your fat arse Hargreaves, and I'll be suggesting that my clients avoid your travel agency like the plague when booking their honeymoons. Oh, and I suggest you take that ManLove magazine out of your bottom draw and hide it somewhere else. We all know where it is, and where you like to take it. Even your wife now."

Penny glanced at Mrs Hargreaves standing in the doorway of her own office. And with a small smile, the pair of them linked arms and walked out of Hargreaves Travel laughing like idiots and mindful of the round of applause they were receiving from the other girls in the office. They laughed all the way to the corner and stopped to hug.

"You got the loan! This is brilliant! You were amazing! And the ManLove magazine? A touch of sheer and nasty brilliance. All in all, you're just brilliant!!"

Melanie threw her arms around Penny and whooped.

"We're free! Free!"

Melanie pulled back and took in Penny's ashen face and wobbling bottom lip.

"Christ, what's all that about? You should be euphoric!"

"I've just quit my job, I’m 30 thousand pounds in debt and I'm starting my own business from scratch. And now I've got to pay you a wage. I don't have any clients. I don't have offices. Oh my. I'm not ready for this Mel, I'm not, I'm...oh, I'm dizzy. Jesus Christ, I’m going to be sick."

Mel swung an arm around her friend.

"Come on my love, you need a drink. Let’s go to the pub."

_____________-

“And you called him a fat arse?”

Alex had stood alongside the pub table, too excited to sit, while the girls relayed their story. When they reached the Manlove moment he threw both arms in the air and screeched with laughter, flinging his scarf flamboyantly in the air.

“That is MAGNIFICENT! I would have parted with my purple Dolce & Gabbana crocodile boots just to have seen his chubby, mole encrusted face at that! Oh tinky tinky girls, bloody marvellous!” he raised a pint glass off the table and air toasted them both before sliding his muscular frame into a chair.

“You should have seen it Al! It was amazing.” Mel leaned conspiratorially on the table. “She really put him in his place. The fat old prick probably had a stroke after we left, his face was that red!”

Penny smiled wanly at Melanie and Alex, twiddling her fingers against her pint glass. She suppressed the urge to grab and squeeze it to make sure reality hadn’t mysteriously slipped away.

“I made a right tit of him alright. But it’s probably the stupidest thing I ever did. The catering company will never work. I don’t have anywhere to set up. I have a handful of connections at suppliers and no clients. Now I’m paying you,” she gestured at Mel, “And I have barely got a cent to my name. This is awful.”

Alex slipped out of his seat and knelt in front of her chair.

“Penny, darling. You really are an utterly silly bitch sometimes. Sucks to having no clients, I’ll put word around at work immediately.” Alex was an account manager with London PR Agency Kaos. Aptly named the girls thought, as the place seemed to be in a constant state of it with everyone sleeping with everyone else, owing each other money or stealing each other’s promotions.

“I’ve loads of friends,” heavy emphasis on the word friends and a waggle of the eyebrows. “They’ll be simply falling over themselves to book you. And before you know it, it’ll be Royal weddings, pop-stars nuptials, the opening of fantabulous shops and whatnot, you’ll have business coming out of your ears!” Alex paused for dramatic effect and carefully watched her face. Penny smiled wanly.

“Oh for Armani’s sake woman. We’ll all help you, so stop your bloody whining and start looking on the bright side! Or I shall have to tell all of my bent friends that you are a terrible chef, and your food is awful, that they shouldn’t hire you for their civil unions.”

He leaned forward and gave her a quick peck on the cheek and sat back in his chair, adjusting his long, green flowing scarf. Penny offered a wobbly smile and downed the rest of her pint.

“Well, I can’t have Elton John scoffing Tescoes canapĂ©s now can I.” It was a long running joke that Elton was Alex’s close personal friend, after he saw him in the canned goods aisle.

Melanie stabbed out her cigarette and raised her glass.

“How about a toast to Penny’s Catering Service?”

Alex frowned.

“Oh Christ darling, no. We need something yummier than that. What about Penny’s Petit Fours?”

Mel groaned.

‘Hell no, she maybe doesn’t even make them. Needs to be something better than that, something juicy, zesty. There you go, what about Zesty?”

Alex slapped his hands to his face.

“Ew, retch, sounds like an all girl pop group. What about Sassy Snacks?”

Mel mimed retching.

“Sassy’s? What is she, a boutique for ridiculously large women who carry their dogs in their handbags?” They continued to bicker for the next couple of minutes while Penny looked on, feeling happiness seep back into her body.

“Guys, guys!” She’d had enough. “I have a name already. Give it up.”

They turned to her, expectantly.

“A toast,’ Penny raised her glass “to Simkins.”

“To Simkins” they chorused, and clinked glasses.

“To a big, bright future! Oooh, and just think, you’ll have to hire yummy waiters! I shall interview them for you. To make sure they are expert enough” Alex added, with another waggle of his eyebrows. The girls groaned.

“Jesus Alex, do you ever think of anything other than rent boys?” Mel raised an eyebrow at him over her glass.

“Of course darling. I think of what it might be like to try batting for the other team with you and your bosoms. Miaow.“ He winked lasciviously over his glass.

“You couldn’t keep up darling. I don’t care how many push ups you do in a day.”

“Oh please, you’d be…”

“EXCUSE ME! How’s about back to my toast?” Penny raised her arms in a time out.

“Of course darling. Back to it being all about you. Cheers.” Alex tipped back his glass and the girls followed suit, downing their pints. Penny began to feel the future might not be quite as bad as she thought.

Two hours, 3 pints, a bottle of champagne and a round of sickly shots later, she could barely remember why she’d been so worried. Or her own name. Her, Alex and Mel had moved on to a local nightclub and were gyrating away on a more or less deserted dance floor.

“Lookin so crazy in love, lookin so crazy in love…” Alex warbled as he twirled Mel around under the flashing lights. Penny hadn’t laughed this hard in months. She made her way to the bar for a breather and another beer.

“Barkeep, I’ll take another thank you kindly!” She dramatically slapped a 10 pound note on the bar top and spun around to watch the dance floor. As she did, she spied a familiar face at the other end of the bar. Or rather, a familiar rubber mack. Her alcohol soaked brain took a moment to calculate, but even as it did so, her feet were walking her towards him.

“Excuse me? Hi there, remember me?” she waggled her hand in his face to get his attention. “Helloooooo? Irishman? Luke. Lachlan, whatever your name is. Aren’t you meant to be getting married about now up in Ireland?” she leaned back against the bar as he raised his head and those magnetic blue eyes to her. Her breath caught in her throat as those eyes and a confused and wary smile kicked her in the face.

“Erm, excuse me? Do I know you?”

Penny smiled dreamily back at him, incapable of speech for a moment. He sat forward further, sliding his pint glass to the side.

“M’am? Hello?” he waved his own hand in her face now. She jumped.

“Of course! S’me, Penny. From the street? I spilt your beer on your mack this morning!” she gestured to the bright yellow jacket now draped across the bar. Recognition flickered in his eyes. Then embarrassment.

“S’right, Penny. This morning. Look, I’m so sorry about that, I wasn’t quite myself this morning.” He offered her a charming, disarming smile and she felt her knees knock against each other. “I’m afraid I was a bit pissed this morning…although only slightly more so than now,” he gestured to the small collection of pint glasses by his elbow.

Penny simply smiled at the pint glasses and met his eyes again. He smiled and stared back. It was like this that Mel found them a few minutes later.

“So, pisshead, what’s happening? Where’s my pint?” Mel nudged Penny, then followed her gaze to the man at the corner of the bar. “Well Jesus H Christ aren’t you a darling. Penny, introduce me to your gorgeous friend.” Mel arched her back to display her ample assets to their best advantage and placed a hand on his knee. “I’m Mel,” she purred seductively. Penny’s mind slowly kicked into gear and she responded without breaking the gaze they were holding.

“Mel, this is the guy from this morning with the rubber mack. This is…” she trailed off and he turned to Mel finally, raising his hand.

“Hi, I’m Liam.” Mel took his hand as she turned to Penny.

“This is your loony from this morning?” She turned back to Liam. “Aren’t you meant to be getting married right now or something?” Liam looked back to Penny, then into his empty pint glass.

“Erm, yes. But no. No, I wasn’t meant to get married. I’m not meant to be married to her. So I’m not. I’m here.”  Mel watched him turn his gaze back to Penny, whose eyes were still glued to him.

“Ummm, Penny, come with me to the loo?” she didn’t wait or a reply, simply grabbed her hand and dragged her off her stool. Penny stumbled in her wake to the toilets. Once inside, with the music muffled by the door, Mel spun around.

“Holy fucking fuckable Batman! That’s you loony from this morning? My god, he’s insanely sexy. He’s, well, he’s sex on a fucking stick! You have to take him home! Right now!!” she punctuated her sentence with prods into her chest. Penny stumbled backwards against the basin and scoffed incredulously.

“I can’t do that! Are you mental? I can’t take him home, I don’t even know him! Ridiculous.”

“Oh come the fuck on Penn, he’s insanely hot, and he was staring at you like you were a big slab of toblerone he wanted to slobber over. Take him home! Here,” she ferreted in her handbag and pulled out a condom, “take this, get home, and shag him senseless.” She shoved the foil pack into Penny’s hand.

“Mel, come on, I can’t do that. I don’t do that! You know me!”

“Oh fuck off, come on! You’ve had a great day today, you’re on top of the world, reward yourself! Besides, you’re always saying how you believe in fate, and isn’t it fate that at…” she referred to her watch, “At 11pm on an idle Tuesday this hot man that you randomly bumped into this morning should bump into you again in this scum hole of a nightclub? Come on! Go for it! He totally wants to, you can see it all over him! And I’m an expert in seeing it, you know that!” Penny turned to look at herself in the water stained mirror.

“I don’t know Mel, I mean, what if he doesn’t? What if I make a dick of myself?”

“Penny. He’s hot, yes? You’re horny, yes? You’re full of beer courage, yes? You’re gorgeous yourself? DO IT! Come on, hoist your tits up, let’s do this!” She hooked an arm around her and propelled her back through the door into the bar. Liam and the barman all turned to watch them advance. Mel peeled off with a hoarsely whispered “Have a great shag!”

Penny took a deep breath, met Liam’s eyes and lost all reason. “So...” she trailed off and stared. Liam simply stood, gathered up his coat.

”Let’s go.”

He took her hand, and then led her towards the door. As they walked out to the street she could hear Alex and Mel cackling behind her. Liam didn’t speak, simply led her straight to a cab waiting at the rank on a quiet Tuesday night, opened the door and bundled her in. Then he shuffled in beside her, closed the door and turned to her.

“Where to?” the Indian driver asked. Penny turned to Liam, he simply smiled back.

“Oh, right. Um, Waterview Terrace please. The far end by the garage.” The car eased away from the kerb and drove off. Liam was still smiling at her. She turned to him. Neither of them consciously made the decision, but within a heart beat, they were locked together, kissing furiously as the driver snorted and shook his head. Penny’s head spun and she forgot her own name as the kiss wound on and on. Finally, they both pulled back, breathless, to opposite sides of the back seat. Neither spoke a word, and as the taxi pulled up outside the garage on Waterview Terrace, Liam simply flicked a ten pound note at the driver, took Penny’s hand and opened the door, practically dragging her out.

“Which flat?” Liam barked sharply as urgency rose between the two of them.

“There, red door,” Penny managed. He turned and dragged her to number 45. She fumbled the keys from her pocket and with a sigh of impatience as she missed the keyhole; he took them and opened the door. She rushed past him inside, pulling him after her. As soon as the door shut, they were on each other like animals in the hallway. They knocked into the side table, kissing furiously and pawing at one another. She pulled him towards the stairs, hands furiously dragging through his hair. As they began to climb, he simply swept her legs out from under her and carried her to the next landing, never breaking the kiss.

“C,” she gasped against his mouth. “It’s C.” He raised the keys to her again and they broke apart long enough for her to open the door to her flat, spilling them both into her tiny kitchen. She dropped her keys on the floor as they made their way to her bedroom, littering the floor with clothes as they went. As they fell on the bed attempting not to break the kiss, their foreheads came together with a resounding thud, making them both leap back.

“Oh fuck, ow, ow, ow! Are you okay?” Penny slapped a hand to her forehead and began to rub it. Liam was doing much the same.

“Yea, yea, fine. Mild concussion perhaps, but no permanent injury” He smiled disarmingly and Penny finally understood the term ‘quivering loins’. Her insides shuddered. She smiled back, and was suddenly struck by the situation. Her pants were around her knees and se wore nothing else but knickers and her bra. He only had one arm left in his shirt and, as if by design, one leg left in his pants. She was sitting on her bed at 11 o’clock on a Tuesday night with a total stranger half naked. She made to pull up her trousers and cover herself when he leaned forward.

“Look, I know. It’s okay; this is all a bit weird. I don’t know you, you don’t know me, I’m supposed to be married, all of that.” Penny nodded. He cupped her cheek “But right now, while 5% if my brain is thinking about that, the other 95 is crying out to take you to bed. I don’t do this. I really don’t, but I feel like, well, I just have to.” Had she been standing, Penny’s knees would have given out from underneath her. She nodded and somewhat breathlessly responded.

“I know. I’m the same. I don’t do this. I never have. I mean, well, you know, I HAVE done this, but I don’t do this. You know? I just…” he pressed another kiss on her to silence her.

“Shall we just talk about it in the morning?” He smiled again. Penny simply nodded, and forgot all about what she didn’t do while she did it. All night. They dozed on and off, woke up to reach for each other again, and after a 2am meal of toast and chocolate milk, reached for each other once more before falling asleep a little before 6am. The next thing Penny knew of was her dream mirroring the exact chime of her doorbell.

TBC - please R and R.
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