Ice Skating And Head Colds (Westworld AU, 2 parts, caretaking in second part)

[Chanel_no5]

***Note***

I wrote this for myself mostly, and also for @Reader, because she was the one who picked this scenario (I was deciding between this and them dancing.) 

This is kind of AU, a post-Westworld thing where Bernard and Theresa left their jobs and pursued their romance in full. Could probably also be read as original.

 

It's a crisp, cold winter's day and Theresa has decided to teach a not very enthusiastic Bernard how to ice skate. However, it also turns out to be the first day of her head cold.  

 

 

 

 

***

Theresa’s eyelids fluttered, the wings of her elegant nose trembling in response to a deeply seated tickle. She raised a gloved hand, covered her mouth and nose with her scarf, and tried to sneeze as quietly as possible. Which, in Theresa Cullen-Lowe’s case, wasn’t quiet at all. But the scarf was thick and muffled the sound rather efficiently.

“HuhMPTSCHuh!”

“Bless you,” Bernard mumbled, but she could tell from his voice he wasn’t particularly paying attention. She kept the scarf tightly pressed against the lower half of her face, waiting to see if she was going to sneeze again. When she was certain the tickle was gone, she lowered the scarf again, gave a light sniff – which very nearly blossomed into a new pre-sneeze tickle, as the cold air irritated her nasal passages – and sighed.

“Ugh, thanks.” She took a close look at him. “You’re going to have to lose a few layers, honey. You won’t be able to move.”

“I won’t either way. I’ll freeze solid. I’m a desert creature.”

She chuckled.

“Oh, I know that, Mister Mountain Lion, I’m just saying, if you can’t bend down and tie your skates, you’re wearing too much clothes.”

“You’re the one not wearing enough,” he shot back. “Jeans?”

“I’m wearing one more layer underneath them, but I’m not about to strip to prove it,” she said. “Besides, I’m from Denmark. I’m not a desert creature.” She took his scarf and playfully pulled him close. “Want to know a secret? From a true Northerner?” She leaned in and gave him a light kiss. “It’s all about the socks. As long as your feet are warm, you’ll be warm.”

She smiled.

“Socks,” Bernard echoed, not quite in disbelief, but not far from it. Theresa nodded pointedly.

“Yes. And hats. Contains your body heat and keeps it from escaping. No worries, Bernie. I’ll keep you warm enough once we get to the ice rink anyway.”

She smiled even broader.

“Not sure I should take that as a promise or a threat,” he mumbled, but he returned her smile.

“All up to interpretation,” Theresa said, rubbing her nose. “Also, leave your glasses. If you fall – well, when you fall, because that’s inevitable –“

She pretended not to notice the horrified look on his face.

“ – you don’t want to fall on them.”

“I think that’s the first thing you’ve said today that I agree with.” He sighed, seemingly steeling himself. “Okay. Let’s go.”

“One more thing.”

He sighed again.

“What?”

Theresa placed her hands on his shoulders, reached up, and gave him a deep, intense kiss.

“I love you, honey.” She brushed an invisible grain of dust off his coat. “There. Now we can go.”

He smiled and followed suit.

 

 ***

 

Bernard watched as Theresa put on her skates, then stood up and whirled around in a loose pirouette. A couple of snowflakes singled down from the steel grey sky and landed in her dark hair like tiny jewels.

Her prominent, handsome nose was rosy pink, and he knew it could be from the nippy winter air, but he didn’t think that was the whole explanation. She had been sniffling and clearing her throat long before they went outside today, and while the pirouette seemed elegant, he had a feeling she had been putting lots of effort into making it look effortless. Her enthusiasm was wearing away and lethargy was the foundation underneath it.

While he was still observing her, Theresa stopped moving. She looked upward, towards the bright Western sky that hadn't yet been covered by clouds, and froze, her face contorted into pained expression he knew far too well. She was about to sneeze, but it was stuck. Her hand, clad in a soft leather glove, hovered above the fuzzy fabric of her scarf, ready to bring it up and use for cover. Back in Westworld, Theresa would rarely, if ever, cover her sneezes, and she usually didn’t at home, but in public was a different matter. It was as if she had viewed courtesy impractical and inefficient at work (and in Westworld, who could blame her?), but out in the "real" world, she would at least try to keep a modicum of politeness.

“Tess,” he said, breaking her concentration. She exhaled, annoyed.

“Thanks, now I lost it.” But she had barely spoken when the desperate sneezy look returned to her face, and she dipped her head, aiming the outburst into her scarf again. “HeERSSCHHmph! Ehh-hERRSSCHummph!”

She momentarily slipped a bit on the ice and had to compensate with a side step.

“You sure you can do this today?” Bernard asked. Theresa nodded and gave her nose a firm rub, her hand curled into a half-fist.

“Yeah. Okay, how do your skates feel?”

“Good…?” He had no idea how they were supposed to feel. Theresa bent down and took a look.

“You feel your ankles have support?”

“Yes.”

“And they’re not too tight?” She sniffled. “You have to be able to feel your toes, Bernie. Bit hard to do this otherwise.”

“I’m alright.”

“Good. Go on and stand up, then.”

“You talk as if that’s easy.”

“Yep.” She skated a bit backwards, giving him some room.

Room to skid around like Bambi, Bernard thought sarcastically, shook his head and held onto the railing surrounding the rink, dragging himself up into something akin to standing position. His knees trembled.

“If I let go now, I’m going to fall flat on my face,” he said. Theresa tilted her head to the side and grinned. That grin knocked decades off her face.

“Then don’t let go yet.”

He huffed. Theresa skated a bit closer, eyeing him critically, her arms folded across her chest. She seemed to have no problem balancing on the knife edges that were the skate blades.

“No, no, you’re going to fall over on the other side soon,” she chuckled, and moved up close to him, putting her hands on his waist. “Hands on my shoulders instead.”

He obeyed, and there he was, standing on his own two, albeit shaky, legs.

“Well done, you’re standing. Okay, now you take your hands off my shoulders.”

“Hands off the lady, huh?”

“Exactly.”

“Mm. I like it when you take command,” he joked, but it was a nervous joke, as if he expected his skates to slide away from under him of their own volition at any moment. He removed his hands from the safety of Theresa’s shoulders, but remained ready to grasp for her again if it seemed necessary.

“I know.” She gave him a seductive smile, then sounded completely practical. “Find your point of b-ahhh… excuse me…” she turned away and sneezed into her scarf again. “AhhESCHoo! Find your point of balance.”

“Bless you.” It was an automatic response, his focus was directed at the hard, cold, polished surface beneath.

“Thank you.” She frowned, put two fingers under his chin and gently nudged it upwards. “Eyes up. Won’t do you much good to look down at the ice, or that’s where you’ll end up.”

“Okay. Okay.” He seemed very focused, and Theresa couldn’t help smiling. She had often seen Bernard caught up in work, but this was completely different. It was as if he was trying his hardest to please her.

“Relax. I’m not going to write any reports about your performance,” she said, cleared her throat and then coughed when it didn’t do anything about the irritating sensation. “This is for fun. And exercise.”

Bernard gave her a look that spoke volumes as he grabbed hold of the railing again.

“Oh come on, Bernie, how often do we do anything that counts as exercise?”

That look turned into a smouldering gaze and she felt a blush climb up her neck and blossom on her cheeks.

“Except that.”

“Except that? Hm, I’m not sure...”

“Now you’re just trying to stall.”

“Is it working?”

“No.”

“Too bad.” He tried to let go of the railing again, slipped and almost fell over, and clung to it again. “Oh God.”

“Here. Come on,” Theresa encouraged him, took his hands and pulled him up. Leaning close, she murmured “Don’t worry love, if you break, we’ll just get some spare parts and patch you back together.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

She chuckled, her breath hot against his ear.

“Yeah.”

“The sheer scope of your compassion is fantastic.”

“How about this; when we’re done here, we’ll go home and make some hot chocolate with whipped cream, and then make love on the couch.”

He smiled.  

“Deal.”

“Good. Don’t lean backwards, put your weight a little bit forward. Bend your knees… like that, yeah. Good.” She let go of him with one hand so she could rub her nose again. A little bit of wetness glittered in her nostril as she sniffled. That tickle just kept coming back, teasing her like a feather. And she was starting to get both congested and sniffly, but still (but with increasing difficulty) chalked it up to the cold weather. “Oh, hold on… I have to sneeze again… aaERSSHhuh!”

The sudden, forceful jerk of her body sent a shockwave into Bernard’s body, and he clung onto her for dear life.

“Don’t do that!” he gasped. She chuckled.

“Sorry. Easy, you’re doing fine.” She sniffled again. “Okay, let’s move forward.” She took his hands and slowly skated backwards, Bernard in tow. “There we go.” She sniffled again, wanting desperately to rub away the insistent itch in her nose, but unable to let go of him.

“Please warn me if you’re going to sneeze again,” he said.

“Don’t worry.” She sniffled. “It’s just the cold air making my nose run a bit.”

Her nose was more than a bit runny; it was streaming, and she had to keep sniffling to keep it from dripping. It was slowly turning a flaming red shade, itching and tickling from the very tip deep into her massively congested sinuses. Then she sniffled a bit too harshly, the chilly air hitting the wall of congestion like a multi-edged dagger. It caused immediate cracking to her self-control, as the urge to sneeze became irresistible in a split second.

“Oh fu-huhAARGSSHoo!”

She snapped forward, doubling over, losing her balance. Bernard’s balance was compromised as it was, and there was no way he could compensate for her sudden convulsion; Theresa went down first with Bernard falling on top of her. He narrowly managed to catch himself with his hands and so avoided squashing her beneath his weight.

Theresa looked up at him, a slightly sheepish expression on her face, her eyes watery from the freezing air and the hard impact of the ice alike. Bernard looked down at her, his expression serious but his eyes smiling.

“You didn’t warn me,” he said. Then he leaned down and kissed her.

“I didn’t get much of a warning myself,” Theresa replied and sat up. “Ugh, I have to blow my nose.”

Bernard quietly rummaged through his pockets, finding a handkerchief in the inner pocket of his second jacket, and handing it to her.

“If all you wanted all along was to get me on top of you, you could have just said so,” he joked as she blew her nose thoroughly. Theresa wiped her glaringly red nostrils with the handkerchief, balled it up and, with an unaware wince of disgust, put it into her own pocket.

“You’re not funny, if that’s what you think.”

“The thought never crossed my mind.” His eyes still sparkled in good humour. “But I suggest we go home now. I think you’re coming down with a cold.”

Theresa sighed. That was unfortunately what she thought, too.

“Yeah. Okay.”

They started to get untangled from the heap of middle-aged collapse they had created, Theresa wincing again as she tried to get up.

“Wait, oh fuck, I think I sprained something.”

Bernard promptly took off his skates so he could stand up and help her. This time it was Theresa holding on to him for dear life.

“Do you need to go to the ER?” he asked. She glared at him as if he had suggested something highly offensive.

“I just sprained my back, Bernard, I’ll be fine. A hot bath is all I need.”

“No need to get new parts and patch you back together, then?” he mumbled wryly.

“Fuck you, honey.”

He chuckled, helping her to the bench where they’d left their shoes. Theresa gingerly sat down, arching her back and letting out a groan.

“Oh God, I’m getting old.”

Bernard thought it best not to comment on that. Theresa scoffed.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice that deliberate silence.”

“Damned if you do and damned if you don’t.”

She bent down and started untying her skates so she could put her boots back on. This position made her nose run again, and she gave a prolonged, deep sniffle.

“Well observed, Mr Lowe.”

She snapped forward with another heavy, harsh sneeze, catching this one into her cupped hands.

“AaaERRSCHHuh! Ow, fuck!” She winced. “You win, Bernard. We skip this. I need a hot bath and some tea.”

“We could do this some other weekend, when you’re feeling better.”

Theresa nodded.

“Okay.” She leaned her head on his shoulder. “Are you alright? You took a pretty hard fall too.”

“I’m fine. I padded up well.”

She smiled.

“Yeah, you did. How many jackets do you have on, more specifically? You look like the Michelin Man.”

“Four. And two sweaters and a shirt.”

She rolled her eyes.

“I suppose our winter activities together will be restricted to indoor dittos from now on.” She once more got the scarf up over her nose and mouth and bent over with a deep, chesty sneeze. “EEURRGSSCHUH!” She remained doubled over, eyes closed, and just breathed heavily for a few seconds before she mumbled, the words muffled by the scarf: “That fucking hurt.”

“At least for the upcoming week or so,” Bernard remarked, replying to her comment about the winter activities. “Let’s go get you into the bathtub. How about some eucalyptus bubble bath to clear out your sinuses?”

“I probably won’t stop sneezing for hours after that,” she said. Bernard smiled and placed a soft kiss on her flushed cheek.

“I hate to break it to you, Tess, but I think you’re going to keep sneezing all day either way.”

“Unfortunately, I think you’re right,” she said and stood up. “I might have a bit of a fever as well. What?”

“I just remembered the days when you would flat out deny feeling under the weather until you more or less fell apart.”

“Oh.” She smiled a little. “You’re saying I’m whining now?”

“No,” he said, came up to her and took her in his arms. “You lower your guard around me. I love that.” He kissed her, then pulled off one of his gloves and felt her forehead. “Hard to tell if you have a fever, but you’re definitely not well. Are you cold?”

“If I say yes, you’re going to mock me for my clothes.”

“You’re absolutely right.” He kissed her again.

“Then no, I’m fine.”

“Liar.”

“Yes.”

The stray snowflakes singling down from the sky had increased, and now it was on the verge of becoming a real snowfall. It seemed like an excellent time to go back home and get a fire going, and so they began heading back home, holding hands in that manner that had been impossible back in Westworld.

 

Edited September 13, 2019 by Chanel_no5

[Reader]

Actually I wanted both, but you made me choose one. I made a phenomenal first choice because this was amazing!!! I could even tell that Theresa didn’t have the stress of her job, hiding their relationship, etc and it felt like she was a different person. I loved reading this side to her. 

I love sneezing with items of clothing and it’s always yummy when people have to reposition their hand or material to get the next sneeze under control 🔥😍🔥 Hot fetishy descriptions...CHECK! 

So many cute and sweet and romantic parts and you continued their lovely banter and cleverness in this story just like your other stories. 

Excellent all around!! I’m super excited for the dancing one. I know it’ll be sexy!! But no pressure! ❤️

[SleepingPhlox]

This is wonderful and the AU they deserve.  I'm still annoyed by canon.  You write them so well - which of course is unsurprising - and the flow of their dialogue is so perfect!

 

[Chanel_no5]

14 hours ago, Reader said:

Actually I wanted both, but you made me choose one. I made a phenomenal first choice because this was amazing!!! I could even tell that Theresa didn’t have the stress of her job, hiding their relationship, etc and it felt like she was a different person. I loved reading this side to her. 

I love sneezing with items of clothing and it’s always yummy when people have to reposition their hand or material to get the next sneeze under control 🔥😍🔥 Hot fetishy descriptions...CHECK! 

So many cute and sweet and romantic parts and you continued their lovely banter and cleverness in this story just like your other stories. 

Excellent all around!! I’m super excited for the dancing one. I know it’ll be sexy!! But no pressure! ❤️

Clarification, you got to choose which one I should do first. 😘 I'll do the other one as well at some point. ^^

Thank you so much!  

The thing is that she felt like a different person to write like this. For a moment I wondered if I was dropping the ball and she was totally OOC, but then I realised that I was still writing the same character, only this side of her was Bernard's wife Theresa, not the Delos employee Theresa, and that apparently made a huge difference. She was happier to write like this. Much as I do love and prefer her harsh boss lady persona in fetishy contexts, it was nice for a change to get to meet happy, carefree Theresa without secrets and work pressure. It also felt like the change in her sneezing style came naturally. It was unexpected, but fun. 

 

5 hours ago, SleepingPhlox said:

This is wonderful and the AU they deserve.  I'm still annoyed by canon.  You write them so well - which of course is unsurprising - and the flow of their dialogue is so perfect!

 

Thank you so much! Yeah, well, canon never happened, as far as I'm concerned.   Damn, it was unfair to everyone! It would have been such an interesting love story to see unfold, considering their positions and their very different backgrounds, it would have been amazing to see if it would work out once they found out the truth. I would like a whole show centered around them. I've been thinking about writing a novel based off that concept, for real. I'm sure it has been done before, but with younger characters, I think it would be interesting to see that concept with older characters who may be more jaded about the world and their previous experiences. Plus the whole question about morality;  if you could technically alter your lover to your liking, but if you do that, you violate their integrity, and would you do that if it were love? And could you trust that a relationship with an android is love? How can you be sure they feel love? What IS love? Lots of interesting things to explore!

Though their fate was actually hidden in plain sight all along; as names are so important in the show, and apparently,

Spoiler

a "cull" or "cullen" is a hunter's term that literally means a "kill-off".   

 

Edited September 7, 2019 by Chanel_no5

[Chanel_no5]

There turned out to be a little bit more to this fic. Because I love them and because my day has been horrible and I needed to wrap myself in some adorableness.  

***

“You sound worse,” Bernard remarked when she got out of the bathroom.

“I feel worse,” Theresa replied and sat down on the couch, pulling her feet up underneath her. “I’m not sure if it’s because I came from the cold air and went straight into a hot bath, but…” She squinted, a desperate look coming over her face. “Oh God, I have to sneeze again… hahhAARRSCHoo!”

“Bless you.”

“You don’t have to keep saying that,” she sighed, reaching for the tissue box that Bernard thoughtfully had placed on the table. “It’s going to get old really fast.” She took out several tissues, folded them, cupped them around her irritated nose and blew. Folded them over again, repeated it. Discarded the wet tissues and took another batch, repeated the action.

After several minutes of this, Bernard stopped even pretending to read from his tablet and just stared openly at her. Theresa gave him a half-annoyed, half-amused glance over the tissues.

“Well, it was you who suggested the eucalyptus bath.”

“I did think you’d eventually stop… uh, dripping, though.”

“Frankly, so did I,” Theresa admitted and pressed the tissues under her quivering, already chapped nostrils. “EeeSSCHuh! I can already tell this is going to be a bad one.”

“Did you ever have a light cold?” Bernard asked jokingly and Theresa pretended to throw the tissue box at him. He ducked, laughing, and she shook her head, putting the box back on her lap.

“Probably. At some point. Not that I can recall it.” She took a couple of hitching breaths. “Oh fuh… huhhh… huhARSCHoo! Oh fuck me… Hehhh… heeURSCHUh!”

“Ouch, that sounded like it hurt.”

Theresa gave a response that sounded like something between a moan and a sigh, and nodded, then leaned her head back against the couch and closed her eyes. She looked thoroughly exhausted, and her cheeks were flushed from what Bernard suspected was more than the aftermath of a hot bath. He opened his mouth.   

“Don’t.” Theresa held up one hand, still clutching the tissue.

“Don’t, what?”

“Don’t say anything about checking my temperature.” Her voice was thick and damp. “I don’t wanna know.”

“Fair enough.”

She opened one eye and looked at him.

“What? You’re not going to argue?”

“Not today. It’s obvious you have a fever. You’ve admitted you think you have a fever. If you don’t want to know how high it is, fine.” He reached out and put the back of his hand against her flaming cheek. “Somewhere between ‘not too well’ and ‘fucking mess’, based on touch.”

“Why do you even have a scale?” she muttered, but closed her eye again.

“That’s not my scale, it’s yours. Your illnesses range from ‘I’m fine’, through ‘I said, I’m fine!’ – though you usually pronounce it ‘fide’ at that point – to ‘not too well’, to ‘fucking mess’. I have to say though, your ‘I’m fine’ is probably other people’s ‘not too well’.”

Theresa contemplated this under relative silence – she was still sniffling continuously – and then said:

“If I admit you’re right, will you make me some tea?”

He chuckled.

“Tess, if you ever admit that I’m right, I would even go to England to get it for you.”

“That won’t be necessary, we have some in the kitchen.”

He stood up, still chuckling.

“Lemon, honey, or ginger?”

“Yes.”

He smiled to himself as she sprawled out on the couch in a miserable, sniffling heap. Theresa was normally one of the most straightforward people he’d ever met, but – and this wasn’t something he had learned until several years into their relationship, likely because she kept her guard up – she could also be a little bit melodramatic when she was sick. He didn’t think she was aware of it herself, and it wasn’t something that bothered him. Quite the opposite, actually.

“Tess?”

She muttered something.

“You’re adorable.”

“I’m a fucking mess,” she grunted and rubbed her nose with the heel of her hand until it made a wet, squishy sound.

“Ah, we’ve reached that stage already.”

“If you tease me, we go figure skating as soon as I get well.”

Bernard rolled his eyes.

“Perish the thought.”

He took the fuzzy blanket from the armrest of the couch and draped it over her. She curled up on her side and pulled it tight around her, shivering slightly.

“Thank you, honey.” She smiled at him. “Sorry I ruined today’s plans.”

“You didn’t ruin anything.” He bent down to give her a kiss. “I love you. And I very much prefer making tea for my sick wife than freezing to death on an ice rink. And I’m not saying that just to make you feel better.”

Her smile turned into that nose-wrinkling grin that he loved so much.

“Oh I believe you.” The look in her eyes was warm and affectionate. “And I love you too. Still going to teach you how to ice skate, though.”

“Let’s get you through this cold first,” he replied.  

Edited September 10, 2019 by Chanel_no5

[Reader]

They are so cute together! I loved the playfulness 😍

The way you portrayed them in this part was so realistic of marriage and that vibe of being so comfortable around each other with no barriers. It’s crazy how you show their progression of love without focusing on it. 

And it’s so cute how Bernard knows Theresa like the back of his hand. And how Theresa has gotten to the point where she doesn’t hold back. 

Awww the cute lovebirds! 

[Chanel_no5]

God yes, they're the cutest thing in the world. 😍  I'm so glad you enjoyed reading, because I LOVED writing it! I love every second I spend in their company.  

Even though I'm as gay as they come, I have to say, Bernard would be the perfect partner.   I think one of the reasons why I'm so smitten with their relationship is because he represents all the things I need in a partner, while Theresa represents all the things that I'm helplessly attracted to, despite knowing it wouldn't really work for me to be in a relationship with someone like that. Putting those two polar opposites together, and it's like merging my needs with my wants, somehow.