June 21st, 1891 — Jesse Hatchitt's flat, London

The title of fiancé was an odd one when mixed with mourning. Fallon didn't relish discussing wedding preparations on a typical day, but planning and dreaming of a wedding when one of her closest relatives wouldn't be there made it an even more daunting prospect. In fact, if the decision were solely in her hands Fallon would opt to elope instead. A quick ceremony, a quicker honeymoon, and then back to the daily grind.

Jesse's family was expecting a wedding, though. (Jesse too, most likely.) They wanted the white dress with the breakfast reception and all the trappings that felt odd for someone of Fallon's upbringing. She made enough now to not be considered impoverished by any means (how long that would be true for was questionable with his insistence of her leaving the aurors when they eventually had children) but to spend a month's salary on anything other than the bare necessities alarmed her. Sure, they were both well off now. That could always change, though, and she would sooner remain a loveless widow than be anything like her mother.

They had spent months now dancing around the topic of their marriage. Not because of Daniel's death, either, but because of the argument they'd had shortly beforehand. Fallon didn't quite remember how or when she informed him of her compromise (either whilst terribly hungover or tripping over herself drunk) but she knew he knew she would retire once she hit eight years as an auror. Ideally, she would prefer ten as that would give her more options as an instructor (any hopes she had of becoming Minister died when she realized to marry Jesse meant saying goodbye to her ambitions). However, Fallon knew she was already pushing her luck by asking for another four years. Any further leeway and Jesse might walk away, as was his right to do.

(Sometimes, in the dead of the night when she was buried under a mountain of paperwork, Fallon wondered if Lachlan would have pushed the same ultimatum. Then, just as soon as the thought came it was banished by the remembrance of how terribly incompatible they were and how miserable they'd both be.)

Tonight was no different. Jesse had mentioned his mother was asking about the wedding over dinner and, like always, Fallon nodded and offered some bland pleasantry in response. Their wedding would come this winter, the ins and outs of the planning wasn't something she much wanted to discuss. Especially not with someone as seemingly extravagant as his mother. Dressed in only her underthings and one of his spare pajama tops, Fallon leaned against the headboard with a case file opened upon her lap. Part of being home for dinner more often than not meant working before bed, even at the expense of casual intimacy.

"Gabe mentioned a case of ours is heating up," Fallon mentioned to Jesse as she scrawled another note. "I might not be home much next week." If at all. This case was likely to require traveling to northen Ireland. "He was grumbling about it all afternoon. Can't say I blame him. Camping isn't my favorite thing either."

  

Jesse felt as if he were sitting in some sort of weird purgatory in which he honestly didn't know how his life was going to end up. Everything had been put to a standstill after Daniel's death. It was a really abysmal reason to have to put a wedding at a pause, but Jess had the sneaking suspicion that they would have needed the time anyway. At least he could put his mother's inquiries at bay without bothering Fallon with them when it appeared like she obviously wasn't interested.

Then again, he didn't think anything was solved yet either. Fallon had come at him with her compromise to their situation while drunk and grieving, but he hated to admit that he didn't actually believe it. There was a weird dichotomy in which he was trying to be alright with being secondary to her job, but he was struggling when it clearly wasn't the same on his end. If he were being honest, he hadn't thought this would be quite so hard. The existential crisis was a little much.

Case in point, instead of just coming home at the end of the day, she brought the work home with her. Honestly he wasn't sure which he disliked more. Being an auror was important to her, he knew that and he knew it was a lot of work. He tried to understand it, but he felt like all of this pushback on her end was eventually going to wear him down. It was decidedly not his intention to give her an ultimatum. He wanted to believe that there was a solution to this, but it was hard to be married to someone who was already married to her work. He'd seen that with his brother and sister-in-law.

He was mostly asleep with a book in his hands, though he'd reread the last paragraph three times and hadn't absorbed it. "Yeah I know, Molly asked for help with the kids already." He mumbled as he tucked a bookmark in his book and set it aside. Sometime Jesse wondered if Molly had married the wrong Hatchitt. "Night." He sighed as he rolled over away from her, pulling the blanket loosely around his middle.

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Wonderful, Fallon thought bitterly to herself. Jesse was irate with her, once again, due to work situations outside of Fallon's control. Yes, it was her choice to remain an auror, but she was an auror before she met Jesse. (And, Merlin forbid if it came down to it, she would be an auror long after him.) What Fallon often couldn't understand is why Jesse allowed himself to get involved with her when he mostly knew from the beginning what she did. Obviously, he had tightly held convictions about family and what he dreamt of. Obviously, he yearned for a traditional family unit. So why her? Why not Malou or some other woman willing to give him exactly that?

Sighing heavily, Fallon slowly closed the open folder and placed it on the bedside table. "We can't keep dancing around this, Jess." She told him with a slight level of silent frustration.

  

Jess sighed heavily. He really didn't have the patience for this right now. He felt like every time they talked about it, everything just went in circles with neither one of them bending or understanding where the other one was coming from.

"I don't know what else you want me to say, Fallon," He huffed without rolling over to look at her. Instead he focused on the wall nearby, a knot in the wood as his focus. Maybe they were making a mistake here. Maybe what they wanted out of life was just too different for them to work easily. He wanted a family, and he wanted it with her, but she wanted to continue in a career that didn't really allow for that. He wanted to understand where she was coming from, but struggled to either acknowledge that he was asking too much or she was. They had both known this about the other going in, but through all of the drama it had gotten pushed to the back and now that it was front and center they couldn't figure out a way to solve it.

What was he supposed to do, wait until she was ready to settle down finally? In what, five, seven, ten years? He couldn't wait that long, he didn't think. Were they just prolonging the inevitable at this point? Maybe, but right now he really didn't want to argue about it.

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Her sigh continued into a full blown huff. At this point, nothing about their relationship was what she wanted. On the surface it may have looked like he was bending to her every whim, but she, too, was bending far more than she was comfortable. Fallon dreamt of political achievements, of tangible success, of a life that involved enacting change to their world. Asking for four more years wasn't so that she could achieve any of those goals, but so that she could remain in the shadows of what she might have achieved. Jesse was all but requiring her to walk away from what she spent the better part of a decade striving for, and she was willing to do it. All Fallon required to resign herself to his ideals was a little time.

"What do you need to say?" Fallon demanded. "Forget what it is you think I want. Forget my opinions. You're so pent up you're angry and distant. Either talk to me or I'm going home."

  

Jess was in no mood. Of course now he wasn't going to get any sleep either way, whether she stayed or not, but perhaps he could at lest be a sullen, sulky, surly grump if she wasn't here. Maybe he needed the time and space to figure this out what it was he really wanted and was willing to compromise on. Being up all night would certainly give him time to do that.

Unfortunately, right now, he just wasn't in the right head space to do this without saying things he would regret. Jess knew that much about himself, had worked most of his adult life to shed the asshole teenager that he had once been, but it became more difficult when he felt like he was backed into a corner. "Then go home," He sat up finally, running his hands through his hair in frustration. "Because I'm not having this argument again, I've said everything I needed to say and—" He'd almost said, and the more I think about it, the less compatible we appear to be, bur that was one of those things he'd regret saying now and he didn't have the filter tonight to keep making sure he kept his tongue in check. "Never mind, stay or go, it's your choice, but I won't be goaded into this tonight."

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There was a flicker of a thought to leave her engagement ring on the bedside table. If he was so thoroughly unwilling to talk this through with her, then they had no path forward. Fallon wouldn't marry him like this and it was growing increasingly clear that neither would he. Perhaps they were waging a losing battle, perhaps their love wouldn't fuel them enough to see them through. There was a reason love matches belonged in novels, wasn't there? However, Fallon had been the one to give it back last time, and when accepting his proposal this time, she had swore to herself never again.

Wordlessly, she threw back the covers and set about gathering her things. So many of her possessions were now split between his flat and hers that she was sure to have missed something. All the essentials were easily collected and thrown into her bag, though. "You know where to find me when you're ready to talk," Fallon spat out furiously. Realizing only at the last second how improper her state of undress was, she yanked the shirt from her body, popping some of the buttons and discarding the fabric on the floor. Her ministry robes were hanging still from the door and were easily shrugged into. "Night." She added before storming from his flat.