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Chapter Text

James felt as though he was exhaling for the first time that day once the necklace was finally in his hand. He had given it to Isabella when they were first engaged. Its loss had been among the many things he had chastised himself for when things ended so badly with her. It had belonged to his gran, and he had always been fascinated with it when he was a child. He was delighted when she later gave it to him.

He didn't remember Isabella ever wearing it. It had no stones, so it wasn't worth much money. She had no reason to want to keep it from him. But his old insecurities and doubts had preyed on him ever since they agreed to meet for coffee so she could return it. What if it was all a trick? Or what if she used it as some sort of bargaining chip for something else she wanted from him? What would he feel when he saw her again? Would he embarrass himself?

But she had not tried to stall or bargain, and he had not been overwhelmed. After a few pleasantries she had pulled a tiny bag out of her purse and handed it over with the necklace in it.

He had been the first grandchild, and his gran had doted on him as a baby, and then made him her helper and co-conspirator in handling the many babies who came after him. One of his special jobs was helping her put her jewelry away at night, and he had always taken care with it. Perhaps that's why she thought he was worthy of this particular piece rather than any of his sisters.

It was a cross pendant, so it made sense to give it to him when he went to seminary. A trinity knot decorated the center, and then gold work extended from the knot and wrapped around the cross pieces. The gold decorations were very intricate, but very small. Easy to miss the details if you were into flashier stuff. Looking at it now, he could understand why Isabella had been less than impressed by it. It wasn't her style at all.

“I suppose I should really give this to one of my sisters,” he mused.

“What, no,” said Isabella. “You should wear it, James.”

“What?” was all he could think of to say. He was shocked at the idea.

“Well it's not terribly feminine, is it? I'm sure it's not what your gran pictured but nowadays men wear all sorts of jewelry. And even at church functions or the classes you teach no one could really be bothered by a cross.”

He pondered the idea, still unconvinced.

“Look, the chain needs replacing anyway. Put it on a black leather cord with a simple clasp and no one will think twice about it.”

He stared at it a moment, realizing she was probably right. Then he looked up at her and smiled. “You know, I believe I will.”

She smiled back, one that seemed to show genuine fondness. After a moment she checked her watch and said, “Well, I should be going. It was good to see you again.”

“Good to see you as well,” he replied, and was surprised to find he meant it. He had no lingering attraction to her, but no real bitterness either. He was strangely at ease, and it was good to know it.

“And thanks for the jewelry advice,” he added with a smile.

“Of course,” she said as she stood to leave. Then she grinned at him and added, “let me know if you ever need makeup tips.”

His eyes went wide for a moment, but then he laughed.

As he watched her walk away, he felt the relief of closure. He hadn't realized until that moment how much he had needed it.

Chapter Text

“Is the cross you're wearing something from church?” Frederick asked as his boyfriend passed by and greeted him with a peck on the cheek before going to sit on the couch.

“No,” James answered, “I had given it to Isabella, and she gave it back today. It was a gift from my gran.”

“You saw Isabella?” Frederick asked, the tiniest bit of nervousness creeping into his otherwise aloof demeanor.

“We met for coffee, so she could give this back. The leather cord was her idea, for me to wear it instead of giving it to one of my sisters.”

Frederick sat next to James on the couch, and ran his knuckles along the back of James's hand. James immediately smiled, threading their fingers together.

Frederick was mildly curious, both about the story behind the necklace and about James’s encounter with his ex-fiance. But before he could form a question, James began speaking, saving Frederick the trouble.

“I was surprised when my gran gave it to me. But she said she remembered I had always liked it when I was little, and then when I went to seminary it just seemed to fit. And she said that I took care of my things, so she knew I could be trusted.” He laughed softly at the memory.

After a moment he shook his head and his face turned solemn, “then I gave it to Isabella when we got engaged, so maybe my gran was wrong.”

Frederick gently squeezed James fingers and James continued, looking up at him, “But then Isabella texted me out of the blue last week. Said she ran across it and wanted to give it back to me.”

“How did that go?”

“Great,” James smiled. “I was nervous about it at first, but it turned out fine.”

Frederick slid closer to James. He carefully slipped a finger under the cross for a moment, and then traced the same finger along the cord. It did suit James. Frederick has never thought much about jewelry, other than what his sister might like or what was flattering or not on his date. But this piece was not just about how it looked. James’s family and his faith were both important to him.

James cocked his head as he looked at Frederick’s thoughtful expression.

“Do you not like it?” he asked. “Or… are you worried about me seeing Isabella again? I promise you have nothing to worry about.”

Frederick shook his head and stroked James's neck just below the cord, making him shiver.

“No, it's just… seeing the leather against your skin, well…” he looked James in the eyes, leaning in close, “it gives me ideas.”

Chapter Text

Frederick woke to the smell of coffee and the soft sound of James’s voice saying his name.

He cracked one eye open for a bleary vision of his boyfriend, fully dressed, smiling gently at him.

“Frederick, your, eh, your father is here. He asked to see you,” James said, keeping his quiet tone.

This news jolted him awake as though James had poured cold water on him. He sat up and took the offered cup of coffee.

“What the hell does he want?” Frederick croaked after taking a sip.

“I don't know. He only said he needed to speak with you.”

“Alright,” he grumbled, “I'll be out in a minute.”

James left him and he gave himself one more swig of coffee before pulling himself together enough to be seen by his father. He wanted to hide in his room forever, or at least until the man left. But he couldn't leave James to face the General alone.

He passed James in the kitchen, bacon frying on the stove and toast in the toaster, before continuing to the living room to see his father sitting on a chair with his own mug of coffee. Of course James had made him coffee. Probably offered him breakfast, too.

Frederick shook his head and sat down heavily on the sofa opposite his father.

“Well, don't you look like something the cat dragged in,” the general said sourly.

“Late night,” he responded, matching his father's tone.

“Yes, so your house boy told me.”

A prickle of rage ran up Frederick’s spine and he gripped his cup too tightly.

“Don't call him that,” he said flatly and glared at the General.

“And what should I call him?” the other man barked in answer. “He has told me himself he does not pay rent, so he is not your tenant.”

“You, you asked him…” Frederick was beginning to shake but could not finish his sentence before his father leaned forward, working up to a full tirade and talking over him. “And he says you have made him no offer, had no discussion of any future together. He simply looks after you while you're out all hours doing God knows what! If he is not worthy of your respect, why should he be worthy of mine?”

“Why the fuck are you even here?” Frederick shouted back.

At this the general set his cup down and stood up. “I came because I am going to meet with my solicitor about changes to my estate with Henry's new… circumstances. To make sure his new wife and any children are provided for should anything happen to him.” He began to pace a bit, “I thought perhaps there might be some change to make on your account, but I see you are as unserious as ever.” He shook his head. “What a disappointment.”

“Get out!” Frederick snapped, standing himself now.

“Gladly!”

The general stalked out the door and closed it behind him, just in time for Frederick's coffee cup to shatter against.

“Goddammit!” he shouted at no one, and then sank back down to the sofa and put his head in his hands.

He heard soft footsteps and felt the sofa press down next to him. Then a soothing hand was rubbing his back. He turned and wrapped his arms around James, holding him tight and pressing his face into his boyfriend's neck. They stayed like that for a while, James softly stroking his hair, then his back as Frederick calmed down.

Finally he sat back and took James’s hand.

“You don't need to let him in if he comes back,” Frederick said, “Just shout at him to fuck off through the door and then go about your business.”

He doubted James would do any such thing, but it was worth a shot.

“He is right about one thing,” James answered gently.

And this was what had truly upset Frederick. He couldn't care less what his father thought at this point, but James was another story.

“I swear to you he's not,” Frederick said, staring intently into James’s eyes. “I do respect you, and I am serious about us. Please don't ever think otherwise.”

James’s expression changed to a bemused smile. “No… no I know that of course.” He shook his head, still smiling. “I mean he's right that I don't pay any rent. Should I be, you know, contributing more?”

It was Frederick's turn to wear a bemused smile. “There's really no need. Besides, you do all the shopping and most of the housework. You contribute plenty.”

James didn't seem convinced but Frederick shook his head and chuckled a bit.

“Only you would listen to my father's little speech about my failings and get out of it that you should be doing more. Good God.” He rolled his eyes.

“Alright,” James said with a gentle smile. “Why don't you go clean your mess then,” he nodded toward the shards of the coffee cup by the door “and I'll finish getting breakfast ready.”

Frederick smiled and nodded his assent. When James headed toward the kitchen he took a minute to try and shake off the whole experience. His father was truly a bitter old man, but Frederick did not have to be.