March 7th, 1891 — Baker Home, Irvingly

Walt didn't have a wealth of experience washing dishes; his family always had a cook growing up, and he'd had one in his own home since marrying his first wife. Washing plates and bowls after a meal wasn't really expected of someone from his upbringing, and certainly not a man — but on the occasions when he visited the Baker household, he liked to pitch in. It would have been one thing if after the meal they'd all stayed in the dining room or the parlor and had a staff member clean things away, but when it was Mrs. Baker — his future mother-in-law — rising the clear things away, it felt strange to just sit by and watch. So he'd volunteered to help, and he was... probably even doing a passable job of it.

He'd left Gertrude and her family discussing wedding plans in the other room and was humming to himself as he worked. He didn't really know what was left to discuss about the wedding, honestly, so he was happy to leave them to it. With only a few short weeks separating him from the long-awaited nuptials, Walt thought every possible detail had already been sorted — but he supposed a bride was bound to find some new aspect to consider.

Suddenly he felt a pair of hands around his waist. He hadn't noticed Gertrude entering the room, but turned towards her with a smile. "Managed to sneak away, did you?" he asked, before leaning in to kiss her. He'd kissed her before, but it wasn't a frequent occurrence — most of their interactions took place at work, still, and he would never have dreamed of engaging in a public display of affection at the Ministry. Soon, though — so soon, he'd be doing this as often as he liked within the confines of their own home.

@"Gertrude Baker" Josie Jones

  

Family dinners in the Baker household were always loud affairs. Seven naturally loud people always added up very quickly. Plus, while the Bakers tended towards being fairly polite - it was certainly no society dinner.

Despite all this, Walt seemed to accept it gladly. Gertrude couldn’t help but be filled with joy, to see him welcomed with open arms. However, it wasn’t exactly conducive to having an intimate conversation with her soon to be husband. Even though they were to be married in a few weeks, their actual ability to be alone together was still limited.

Once dinner was finished, Gertrude found her chance. Walt was - obviously - being a true gentleman and sorting the washing up. Even Gertrude didn’t do the washing up. She made her excuses, and left to join him in the kitchen.

Before she even said anything, she spent a minute leading against the kitchen wall, hands clasped behind her back, and a small smile on her face. Just taking the sight in.

Then she moved in closer. Silently mock. Across the kitchen. Before he even heard anything, her arms were around him, and her nose was nuzzled in his back.

“I did.” she told him, squeezing him. “I came to supervise.” She added, smirking as she leant up to return the kiss.

---

  

"Supervise?" he repeated, with a chuckle. Hopefully she was only teasing — he thought he was doing a passable job on the dishes, but it might not hold up to scrutiny. "Go easy on me, boss," he joked lightly. "This isn't my area of expertise."

He wanted to hold her, since they seemed to have a moment alone, but his hands were wet from the sink and the last thing he wanted to do was leave a wet hand print on the shoulder of her dress. He settled for resting his forearms lightly on her shoulders and leaning in to kiss her once again. "Actually, I might not be getting much more work done at this rate," he teased. "You're quite distracting."

Especially having a moment alone with her. Walt hadn't wanted to marry her just for her appearance, but... well, it certainly wasn't a nonfactor, and having her pressed up against him was making him think with some anticipation towards their wedding night...

  

The look in Gertrude's eyes gave away her feelings for anyone to see. She gazed up at him, only briefly looking away to pretend to peer over the dishes currently sat clean on the side. After a few moments, her eyes once again were locked on his. She kept her arms around him, perhaps not particularly helpful to his task at hand, but Gertrude was enjoying it.

"Looks like you're doing a fair job, even with distractions," she told him playfully, "But I think I should stay. To supervise." She smiled up at him, her fingers drawing circles on his back.

---

  

With her fingers tracing circles on his back, Walt almost thought Gertrude was trying to get him into some trouble (trying and succeeding; a bulge had risen in the front of his pants from the extended contact and the delicate, teasing touch behind him). He wasn't necessarily opposed, in theory — though he would never have suggested getting into anything before their wedding night, it wasn't as though there was anything that would stop him from marrying her, at this point — and nothing, after years of marriage to his first wife, that would have surprised him, either. Since they were standing in her parents kitchen, however, with only a dozen feet and a partially-closed door separating them from her family, he knew she couldn't be trying to actually do anything. Teasing him, more likely — as though he needed any other reasons to look forward to the wedding.

"Is this what I have to look forward to when we're married?" he joked with a feigned look of exasperation. "I'll never get anything done, will I?"

  

It took Gertrude a few moments to notice. However when she did, it was clear to see. In an instant, her wide smile went, her lips instead pressed together, pulled wide. A furrowed brow appearing above them. She didn't reply to him. Instead, she pulled back slightly to look down. Down there. Just to make sure she wasn't imagining it.

She wasn't. And something was wrong.

Concern spread across her face. She looked to him, her hands grabbing him tight. Oh goodness. What could she do? She didn't know anything about men's... parts. There were four other men in the house, maybe they would know something about this?

"Walt!" she exclaimed, "Are you alright? Do you need to go sit in the other room?"

---

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He didn't realize why she was pulling away at first, until she looked down. Color rose to his cheeks, not so much for the predicament itself but for her having drawn such pointed attention to it. And that was before she actually spoke. If he hadn't sensed genuine concern in her tone, he would have thought she must have been joking still, or trying to trick him into something (though given the fact that the door to the dining room was only half-closed, he couldn't have said he would have thought it very funny).

"Er, no. No," he said quickly, shaking his head and trying to shift his weight to make it less obvious. "I'm fine, it's — don't worry about it," he said with a flash of embarrassment. "That's just — that happens sometimes."

  

In an instant, her heart dropped to somewhere deep in her stomach. Her arms recoiled. They found a place resting across her body, her hands grasping the other arm tight. She felt so stupid. And if there was anything that Gertrude Baker hated, it was feeling stupid.

"Oh... erm... sorry." she replied, trying to say something, her gaze more interested in the dishes than him. She shifted where she stood. She could feel her cheeks getting warmer as she stared wide-eyed at the sink.

"So that's... normal?" she asked awkwardly, only briefly looking towards him.

---

  

Walt frowned to see her body language shift so dramatically. He'd embarrassed her, it seemed, though if that was the case it was certainly mutual.

"Er — yes," he said a little hesitantly. "Normal in — certain circumstances, anyway."

  

Gertrude nodded. At the very least it was good to know that he was fine. Even if she still felt hopelessly clueless.

This was not the norm for her. She was the person who knew things, who was educated. Not knowing things was for other people.

“What kind of circumstances?” She asked, more quiet this time, as she began to realise this probably wasn’t a conversation her mother would appreciate overhearing.

---

  

Walt blinked at her, trying to wrangle with the reality that she had just asked him that. On the upside, the turn this had taken was very quickly resolving the situation downstairs. He shifted once more and brushed a hand down over his pants in a way that he hoped was inconspicuous, which essentially hid what very little was left of his erection. On the downside, he would have to say something sooner or later in response.

She had to know at least something about this, didn't she? She was young, but not — not that young, was she?

"When you're — uhm, excited," he replied, before realizing that this probably wouldn't be enough of an explanation for her to really understand. He considered briefly, then tried again. "When you're with someone you like. Someone you find attractive. It's —" he glanced at the door to the dining room, then lowered his voice slightly. "— the first step in the process for... when men and women are alone together."

  

Her brows furrowed as she looked up at him. The sides of her mouth turned downwards as he took his time replying to her. He thought she was an idiot, didn't he? And she probably was. For all of her knowledge and her studying, she knew very little of human anatomy. She knew nothing of male anatomy.

Walt definitely thought she was an idiot.

Finally, he replied to her. It did not relieve any anxiety.

"Oh. Right. Yes." She stammered, not really thinking, before blurting, "Of course." as if she had any clue about any of it. Her stomach turned. Why had she acted as if she had a clue? Was she so desperate to seem informed?

---

  

Stammering certainly wasn't like her, and Walt felt a rush of secondhand embarrassment for her sake. He wished he hadn't mentioned this at all, but — well, given the way she'd reacted, he'd had very little choice in the matter. He couldn't let her continue on thinking there was something the matter with him. Still, it was obvious she was — not prepared for a conversation like this.

Shouldn't she have been, though? They were to be married in less than a month, and they'd been engaged for several already. If ever there was a time for a mother to have stepped in and explained the mechanics of things, it would have been right about now. He understood that it was often put off until the day before the wedding, but that seemed both unnecessary and potentially alarming for her. It wasn't as though the two of them were going to get themselves into trouble in the next few weeks, simply because she knew something about it. On the other hand, he assumed it might be a good deal more pleasurable for her, and less awkward, if she had time to get... accustomed the idea before it was forced upon her, so to speak. Not that Walt was the sort to do any actual forcing — metaphorically forced upon her, he meant, with the marriage.

"Do you, uhm — do you know anything about what happens?" he asked tentatively. "Between a man and a woman?"

  

The room around her seemed to blur and fade as her asked her the question. The question.

"Well..." she started, rummaging through her brain for any information that she knew. As her search returned nothing, she remained silent as she thought about it. Her wide eyes remained glued on the window. She could hardly lie to him, nor did she particularly want to.

This was a conversation she knew she would be having at some point - although she assumed with her mother. It was something she had tended to not think about or associate with. She was a good girl who didn't think about such sinful things. Those things were for married women to think about.

"Erm..." she said, finally speaking, her voice rising in pitch. "No?" As she spoke, she tried to turn to him, only for her eyes to find themselves drifting away from his eyeline.

---

  

Oof. She couldn't even meet his eyes, which made Walt feel utterly miserable about the way this conversation was going.

"Well," he said with a frown. "It's probably something your... mother will explain." Which was some consolation for him, because he didn't really have to have this conversation with her — hopefully, anyway. Presumably, someone would talk to her about it before the wedding night, and then they could just... have a wedding night, and it wouldn't be weird or awkward or anything. Or maybe it would, because maybe the conversation she had with her mother wouldn't cover the necessary bits, or might lead her to some misunderstandings. If Gertrude really knew nothing, that was — well, that was a lot to cover, and Walt didn't know his future mother-in-law well enough to know how she would handle it.

"Er — unless you'd rather...?" he asked tentatively, meaning: do you want to talk about this?

  

She spent a few seconds pondering the question. Did she want to know how it all worked? She supposed she needed to at some point soon. Her pragmatic side told her that it would be a good idea to know something. She didn't even know if her mother planned to tell her anything yet.

However, many years of avoiding even thinking about such things had left a mark on her. And Gertrude was certainly not in the right frame of mind to deal with such things. This conversation had already been painful enough. Besides, they weren't married yet. They had probably already crossed the line of what was appropriate.

"I'm good." was what she settled on, finally looking to him "I'll speak to my mum about it." She forced a small smile, to try and seem positive about it all.

---

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