The Inevitable Fanfiction

When In France
It is just about 8 a.m. and Simon is awakes when he no longer feels the softness of Paula’s body against his. He knows he won’t fall back asleep, so he brushes his teeth and goes hunting for her in the house. In the kitchen, he hears the familiar sound of her fingernails against her keyboard. There he finds her, looking exactly as he pictured in his mind’s eye, and places his hands on her shoulders. His eyes still have the remnants of sleep in them, and his scruffy hair makes his boyish appearance only more prominent. Paula turns, loving the sight of him. Something in her stomach tightens and tingles.
“Morning, love,” Simon greets.
“Morning.” She kisses his lips softly. Her fingers leave the keyboard of her laptop just briefly to squeeze his fingers with hers.
“Let me guess, Twitter right?” He chuckles.
“Yes! Simon, you should read some of the things they say. I have the best fans in the world!” Her eyes sparkle.
Simon looks at her screen, the many messages that say ‘@PaulaAbdul’ and ‘#KeepPaula’. Almost all of them have words of support for her, telling her that they admire and love her and would do anything to keep her on Idol.
“It seems that you do.” He wraps his arms around her shoulders and leaves his lips at the back of her head, his nose buried in her tresses.
“Maybe we should just confirm that I’m coming back. We’ve strung them on long enough, right?” She shrugs.
“It’s all part of the plan, darling. You know that.”
Simon sits beside her at the counter as she stands up, sighing. She knows he is right and that it is only going to bring her good publicity; something she needs. But at the same time her fans don’t deserve this from her. Shaking it off, she concludes the same conclusion she always does. She’ll leave the matter to Simon. He is the one who has made millions out of being a businessman. She trusts him.
She picks up a plate and fills it with the different things the cook has left for them. There is scrambled eggs, toast, bacon and some fruits. She hands Simon the food along with a fork and knife.
“Thank-you.”
Paula grins at him before getting the ingredients for his daily papaya ice-blend. None of his trained cooks or housekeepers are here to do it for him and Paula has taken it upon herself to make it while they are on holiday.
“You’ve eaten?” Simon asks as she finishes off his drink and hands it to him. She nods.
Simon takes a sip and smiles, pleased.
“You take care of me.” He states, admiring her. She steals a taste of her creation, but cringes.
“Is it even nice?” Paula simply cannot see the appeal of papaya.
“Perfect, actually. My staff need to learn homemaking skills from you.”
“There was a time you called me a diva and suspected that I had never touched a washing machine before.” She remembers with a grin.
“That was a long time ago.”
It wasn’t really. Three years is not that long, not to Paula, but she understands what he means. In Simon-Paula years, it seemed like ages ago. They have come a long way since then.
Simon suggests that they take the yacht around noon, and have lunch out in the sea. Paula likes the sound of that; it sounds just right. She will call Jackie later, to ask if she’d like to tag along. She and Jackie have become quite friendly lately and Paula realises they have many things in common.
Jackie invites Sinitta though, and soon the massive yacht seems crowded to Paula. She has always had insecurities about her relationships, and this one is no different. And while she doesn’t look at Sinitta as a threat, she can’t help but feel insanely jealous when she converses with Simon. It is something she keeps at bay, knowing she can be irrational in her envy. She just wants to have a good time today.
“Paula, take it off.” Simon whines, lifting his oversized sunglasses to his head.
She giggles. Simon knows she is wearing a two piece bathing suit underneath her baggy T-shirt. She stretches out on her pool chair, letting one foot run along her calve. Her shirt lifts so very teasingly, flashing Simon the bottoms of her swimsuit and a tempting strip of tanned skin. Simon growls inwardly, resisting the urge to pounce on top of her in front of his friends, just a few feet away.
He sits up in his chair and adjusts his shirt, pulling the hem of it down, securely. Paula smiles - looking far too smug for her own good.
“Fine then. Come into the room and I’ll take it off for you,” He whispers.
His eyes turn a darker shade of brown as he fantasises. However she disappoints him by shaking her head firmly, no.
“I’m enjoying the sun,” she says.
He looks up at the sky, squinting at the brightness of it, and mutters a few curse words.
“You can swear at it all you want, sweetie. It will shine the whole day if I get my way.” She giggles, and wraps her arms around Simon’s neck. He lets her pull him down and kiss his lips softly. Swiftly he reaches to squeeze her bottom, and runs his tongue along her lips.
“How does French kissing in France sound to you?” He mumbles against her, nipping at her bottom lip.
“Oy! Quit it, you two,” Sinitta yells and covers her eyes with her magazine. Paula immediately pushes Simon away, blushing plentifully, as he lets out a full belly laugh.
He sits back down between Jackie and Paula, reclining on the chair. Jackie has a bunch of magazines and tabloids beside her, and is reading one intently. Simon make a show of creeping his hand to her chair and sliding one of the magazines away. Paula stifles her laugh with a hand and Sinitta rolls her eyes, good naturedly. Just as Simon thinks he has escaped, prize in hand, Jackie’s magazine whacks him and the book slides out of his fingers.
“Meany.” Simon pouts and picks the book off the floor.
He flips through the pages quickly, not remotely interested. It’s a sport to him, riling Jackie up. For that matter, he does that to all his women-friends and his girlfriend. The volume and all its colourful pictures bore him though and soon enough, it has been dropped to his side and he consumes his time by staring at Paula.
Her eyes are closed but the way her lips twitch upwards ever so slimly, confirms that she knows he is watching her. And loving every second of it. He looks at her face fondly, her long lashes and full lips attractive as ever. She has plaited her hair into two, and once again, astounds Simon as to how she can look both adorable and incredibly hot at the same time. He glances down her neck, at her thin frame floating in the shirt, and her long dancer legs and bare feet. She is simply beautiful and while he never forgets this fact, it sometimes hits him with full force. Like now, for instance.
“I’m glad you came,” He says suddenly. Her eyes reopen and she looks at him.
“I’m glad I came too.”
“You needed a holiday and it wouldn’t have been the same without you.”
Paula moves out of her chair and Simon scoots to make space for her on his own. She rests her head on his chest, bare and warm from the sun. Her hand reaches out and squeezes his fingers once it has found its pair.
“I love you, you know.” She says.
She has said it before; more than once actually, but he hasn’t exactly replied ‘I love you too,’ just yet. Not since they had gotten together. In fact, once she said it on Idol, and he had responded with ‘No you don’t.’ She had been mildly disappointed, but then what did she expect, really? He had surprised her though, when in an interview he had said that they were ‘possibly, secretly in love with each other’. She had been deliriously happy for the whole week.
“I know.” Simon replies, with a sincere smile. It’s enough for Paula at the moment. And just when she grins back, quite satisfied with the answer, he adds “I love you too.”