Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“What are your thoughts on facial hair?”

The completely random question on a shared Sunday off spent lazing about her home had Kit discarding her book and glasses on the coffee table to glance over at Randolph from her perch at the other end of her sofa. “That I couldn’t pull it off, even if I was capable of growing it.”

He gave her a withering glance, though the corners of his mouth did turn up for a brief second. “Har-har. You know that I meant on me.”

She hadn’t actually, given the vague opening salvo, but now she was more than a little intrigued. Instead of answering right away, she moved closer to him and posed a question of her own. “Have you ever actually grown some before? I don’t think I’ve seen you as anything other than clean shaven in all the years we’ve known each other...barring the last seven months or so, naturally.”

Her clarification was accompanied by a quick pat to his cheek, which was rough under her fingertips on account of him foregoing the razor that morning. He turned into the touch and she felt the beginnings of a smile against her palm before she pulled her hand away to let him speak freely.

“I had a moustache for a while in the 70s –”

“Who didn’t?!” she quipped quietly before he continued on.

“–and I started to let it grow out again not long after my first divorce was finalized, but I ended up shaving it off as soon as it was clear that it was coming in with grey. My hair was still blonde at that point and I hadn’t yet embraced the inevitable.”

The statement pulled a memory from Kit, one she wasn’t sure she’d ever shared with him. “I can still remember the first time I saw you with the full salt and pepper. We hadn’t seen each other for a few years at that point and I only saw you from behind at first, but once you turned your head and I realized who you were, I immediately noticed how the change brought out your eyes even more.”

Those same eyes gazed upon her tenderly and then he said, “I’m just thankful that I still have it; I don’t think my ego or vanity could handle being bald!”

She laughed softly and tried to picture him without hair, to no avail. “Are you thinking of growing some facial hair now?”

She received his trademark shrug in reply. “I don’t know, maybe. Once you get past the initial itchy stage as it grows in, it’s not so bad.”

Still not any clearer on what had inspired the conversation, she decided to hedge her bets with a neutral response to his initial query. “Well, it’s your face. You’re free to do with it as you like.”

He wasn’t quite able to hide his disappointment at her answer and it took her a moment to piece together what he might really be trying to ask without actually asking.

“Honestly, I’m neither here nor there on facial hair. One husband had it and one husband didn’t; they both came to me that way so I never knew any different on them. The same could be said for the other men I’ve shared time with over the years. It’s never been a requirement or a deterrent for me because as old-fashioned as it may sound, I’m more interested by what’s on the inside.” She hesitated for a moment and then dared to ask, “Has it been a bit of a sticky issue for you in past relationships?”

The way his shoulders dropped told her the answer before he actually spoke. “Jake’s father had a beard and with the way he abandoned the family when Jake was just a baby, Donna had a few residual issues that spilled over into our relationship, including her aversion to facial hair. I think more than anything, that was what inspired the experiment after our divorce, a chance to rebel against six-plus years of being strictly clean-shaven. Both Serena and Lane were much more interested in other things I had to offer and nobody else has been around long enough to offer an opinion...until you.”

Kit didn’t immediately respond to that, instead taking a minute to reflect on the marvel of the man before her. Sometimes it was easy to forget the scars that he bore from previous relationships, particularly the last two significant ones before her, because he remained so open-hearted and willing to love. Her own scars had made her more cautious and measured, by contrast, so she admired the strength he possessed to be willing to put himself out there so readily. More than anything, it made her even more determined to protect and nurture the love between them and to do right by him as much as she could.

“My previous answer still stands: I have no firm opinion on facial hair so whether you choose to grow some or not is entirely up to you. The only thing I will say – the only thing I will promise – is that whether your face is smooth as a baby’s bottom or hairy like Cousin It’s or somewhere in between, I couldn’t possibly love you any less than I do right now.”

A bubble of laughter escaped him as he reached over to pull her closer. She, of course, came willingly, tucking herself under his chin as his arms enveloped her and held her close. “I fall more and more in love with you every day, Kit.”

He dropped a kiss to the crown of her head and she reciprocated with one placed over his heart. They sat quietly together, enjoying the closeness until her inquisitive nature could no longer be silenced. “Can I ask, what brought this conversation on?”

“When I decided not to shave this morning, it occurred to me that it’s been years since I’ve actively tried to grow it out. Then it got me thinking that you might have an opinion on the subject and admittedly, I was a little worried.”

“Even if I did have an opinion, it’s not for me to decide what you choose to look like. If I decided to shave my head tomorrow –” An unhappy little noise escaped from his lips as one of his hands unconsciously started playing with her hair as he so often did. “– that would be entirely up to me, even if you were vehemently opposed to the notion. I would, however, completely understand if you tried to have me committed for being utterly out of my mind if I went through with it.”

“Good to know,” he retorted with a smirk.

“Besides,” she began mildly, hoping to catch him off-balance with what she was about to admit, “you should be quite familiar by now with how positively I react to you forgoing the razor for a day or two.”

She tried to keep a neutral face for as long as she could but it was difficult as she watched his eyes darken instantaneously.

“How invested are you in that book?” he ground out as his hands started to roam her body, lighting fires wherever he touched.

Aiming to tease him a little more, she replied, “I was just starting to get to a good part, so I’d –”

The rest of her words were lost to his mouth as he crashed his lips to hers in a possessive kiss. Before she really had any idea of what was happening, she was flat on her back with her shirt more than half rucked-up and Randolph was hovering over her lower half trying to work her pants down and off her legs. A weak protest started to form on her lips but at the first brush of his face against her lower abdomen, she let out a low moan and all coherent thought went right out the window.

Chapter Text

Staring off into the distance, Kit couldn’t help but let her mind wander off with thoughts of how in the hell she and Randolph were going to get out of this predicament with the supreme asshat in the governor’s mansion.

With all of Betz’s pre-election rhetoric and bombast, she’d hoped for the best from the people of the state of Georgia while also preparing for the worst, but she never could have anticipated just how much of an absolute wanker he would turn out to be. Granted, her well-meaning husband had slightly stepped into it by failing to remain the promised ‘arm candy of the CEO’ during their first face-to-face meeting, but between the unexpected media ambush and the attacks Betz lobbed at Chastain and at publically-funded healthcare in general – not to mention the thinly-veiled jabs at her gender and her status as an immigrant – she honestly didn’t blame Randolph at all for being unable to hold his tongue. It wasn’t surprising that Randolph’s counter-arguments had embarrassed and infuriated Betz enough to have him seek revenge of some sort, but to use Claire’s tragic death to further that agenda was absolutely repugnant. That poor woman had let her fear of dealing with the American healthcare system dissuade her from seeking medical intervention until it was much too late and not even Randolph’s great skill and experience could stop the inevitable. And then, in a move truly lacking in humanity, Betz had somehow managed to twist the facts and manipulate Claire’s widower into pursuing a scurrilous wrongful death lawsuit against Randolph and chosen the opportune time to have him served with papers in an effort to maximize his embarrassment.

In the week since the gala, Randolph had been more quiet and withdrawn than usual, not that she was entirely surprised by that. A part of her wondered if he had gotten a little more invested in Claire’s case because of the obvious parallels between the young woman and herself and was therefore taking the loss a little more to heart, but she daren’t ask because she wanted him to have the space he needed to process in his own way. Above all, Kit suspected that he was spending most of the time going over the surgery again and again in his mind, trying to make sure that there wasn’t anything that he did or didn’t do that could have changed the outcome. She knew he’d been speaking with Chastain’s legal team and from her own conversations with them she knew that they were fairly confident that the case was completely without merit, but still there was some niggling feeling within her that said that this wasn’t going to be so cut and dry. After her own (admittedly failed) run-in with Betz, she highly suspected that he would come up with yet another scheme to smear-campaign Randolph’s career. Her belief in him was unwavering, without a doubt, but rumours and speculation and spin and outright lies were often much more tantalizing than the truth and far more difficult to counter.      

“Hey Kit?”

Randolph’s voice called out to her and brought her out of her thoughts and back to the present, where they were spending a quiet evening on the sofa, his head was resting in her lap as they listened to music over his pride and joy (and expensive) sound system.

“Hmm?” she hummed back as she resumed working her fingers softly against his scalp, thinking their sudden stillness was his reason for speaking up. When he didn’t say anything more, she quickly looked down and saw the patient look on his face. Guessing that he wanted her full and undivided attention for whatever he wanted to say, she stilled her hand once more. “Yes, darling?”

She watched him draw a deep breath and then words tumbled from his mouth in a rush. “I’m going to try and grow a beard.”

Though not at all where her mind had just been, the admission didn’t throw her in the slightest. Putting all thoughts of Betz and lawsuits out of her mind for the moment, she focused on her husband’s face and gave her response.

“Alright.”

When she said nothing more, he gave her a look of slight skepticism. Since he seemed to have forgotten their conversation from years earlier on the subject, she gave him an encouraging smile and elaborated.  “Go ahead and grow a beard, darling. I’m sure that in no time at all, you’ll be giving Conrad and AJ a run for their money.”

The skeptical look deepened as a huff of laughter shook his chest. “Someone’s being even more optimistic than usual.”

“Not at all. I happen to think you’ll look very distinguished with facial hair.”

The corner of his mouth quirked up for a second with the compliment, but he still seemed mostly unconvinced. “And will you still think I look distinguished when I have a long scraggly beard like the guys in ZZ Top?”

Kit had to stop herself from rolling her eyes dismissively at the question, knowing her husband was far too meticulous about his appearance to ever have that unkempt of a beard. Instead, she took the chance to indulge his musings in order to land a teasing jab. “Well, I am slightly out of practice with my hair braiding skills, so it would give me plenty of opportunities to practice while you sleep.”

His slack-jawed reaction made her laugh brightly and she placed her free hand under his chin to push it closed once more.

“As I told you the last time we spoke about this, it’s impossible for me to love you any less...but there is a distinct possibility that I could love you more.”

“But I thought you were indifferent on facial hair, so how –”

“My feelings on the subject haven’t changed; it’s just a simple matter of there being slightly more of you to love if you have a face full of hair.”

Her straight-forward logic seemed to stump him for a moment but as a tender smile slowly came to his lips, she hoped that he was ready to finally take her at her word.

“OK,” he simply replied and her relief at managing to get through to him had her hand shifting from his jaw to come to rest over his heart. The steady thump there was as reassuring as ever and soon his hand came up to trap hers against his chest, her wedding bands just peeking out from under his. She started to sift her fingers through his hair again and his eyes slipped closed in contentedness, and that was all that needed to be said between them for the moment.

Chapter Text

As Kit slowly drifted back to consciousness, her eyes fluttered open to the bright sunshine streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows on her side of their bedroom. A quick glance at her bedside clock let her know that it was just after nine, which was on par with the time she’d been waking up for nearly a month now. Turning over to face the centre of the bed, her lips settled into a small frown as she realized that Randolph wasn’t still there next to her. Despite their combined nearly eight decades of dedication to early mornings and long hours with little sleep and/or nourishment, it had only taken one day for those routines to fall to the wayside and be replaced by silenced alarms, mornings spent lounging in bed together, and days spent doing whatever the hell they felt like – which mostly amounted to absolutely nothing at all. Unfortunately, her three-week reprieve from any work responsibilities was quickly coming to a close but try as she might, she couldn’t find it in herself to complain about the imminent ending, not when she’d never expected to have a chance at some time off to begin with.

In the aftermath of a mud-slinging battle with the new governor, unsuccessful treatments to slow down the progression of his MS, and the near-fatal health crisis of their precious Sammie, Kit had been beyond relived to see Randolph take some time away from Chastain to focus on himself and their family. She’d completely supported his decision to take a two-month sabbatical and had only wished that she could’ve joined him, but there was never a good time for the CEO to take time off. Her major saving grace on that front was that her own stress levels were more than halved after the cessation of hostilities for Chastain’s financial future and with the universe finally deciding to stop piling on the love of her life both personally and professionally, so it made it easier for her to keep plugging along even without the break.

On the Friday before Randolph’s sabbatical was due to end, she’d received a last-minute meeting request from Marshall Winthrop. Since she’d been stuck in meetings all week with the board, she’d assumed another matter had come about that they wanted to discuss before heading back to their normal lives. Imagine, then, how surprised she’d been to report to the designated boardroom on the tenth floor to find Marshall...and Conrad, Billie, and AJ. For a moment her mind had spun off into a dark place about Randolph’s career or worse, his well-being, but she’d quickly discovered that the meeting was actually a slight intervention to get her to take some time off. She’d bristled at the suggestion at first, an ingrained instinct to prove she was just as capable of doing her job as any man coming to the fore, but the gentle reminder from her Chief of Surgery of how much they all cared for her and Randolph and how they wanted them around for as long as possible had her relenting rather quickly. With a plan in place to keep the hospital going in her stead by putting AJ in charge of medical decisions and having Marshall make business decisions behind-the-scenes (but only for the decisions that couldn’t wait for her return, of course) and with both Billie and Marshall ready to sign off on whatever reasonable length of time she chose, she’d broken the news to a stunned but delighted Randolph. Had the offer come at any other time, they might have been tempted to plan a trip away somewhere for just the two of them, but on the heels of everything that had happened and after playing host to the boys and Sammie for almost two weeks until they’d received the all-clear to return home, neither had any ambitions beyond being homebodies for the better part of the following month.

The slight creak of the floorboard just outside their bedroom door caught her attention and let her know that he was returning, so rather than pretend to be asleep she decided to playfully chastise him. “We’re still on vacation for a few more days yet, Randolph, so why are you so eager to...”

Whatever the end of the sentence was, it was completely lost as he stepped into sight and she saw what was glaringly different about him.

“Your face...I can see your face again.”

Starting at the beginning of his sabbatical, Randolph had made good on all his talk to grow a beard and in the nearly three months since, it had managed to grow in quite nicely. He wore it quite nicely and she’d made sure to remind him on more than one occasion that she’d been completely correct in her assertion that facial hair would make him look even more distinguished than he already was. Since he’d spent most days at the hospital visiting with Sammie and the boys during her recovery, Randolph’s transformation had taken place with all those closest to them there to witness it first-hand but surprisingly, almost no one said anything about the unexpected change in his appearance. Jake had come up to her privately in that first week to ask if Randolph was doing alright and she, unaware of how much the young man knew about why he’d never seen his step-father with facial hair, had simply answered with the truth: Randolph was just trying out a different look. The only other comment that she was aware of was the compliment that Jessica had paid him one evening about a month earlier as the couple left for the night. The young woman’s kudos to Randolph for pulling an ‘Alan Grant’ had stumped them both until Jessica had pulled out her phone for reference photos and explained how the fans of the Jurassic Park franchise had reacted quite positively to the lead male character’s more grizzled look in the final film. A brief shared look between the women had Kit surmising exactly what Jessica was alluding to in quick fashion, but it had taken Randolph until they were getting into her car to catch on. His blush was harder to see with his cheeks half-covered in hair but the warmth under her lips was obvious as she’d kissed his cheek playfully before commencing their commute home. And later that night, after re-watching the first film and with some further persuasion from Randolph, she honestly understood exactly where the fans were coming from...  

The sound of her husband clearing his throat pulled her back out of her thoughts and had her noticing the shy hesitance in his entire demeanor.

“Well...you can see most of my face again,” he corrected as his hand came up to touch the neat and trimmed moustache that remained.

Still trying to process the change, she moved to sit up against the headboard and her eyes scrutinized him in a manner that she could tell was making him anxious.

“You hate it, don’t you?”

“I didn’t say that...”

The non-committal answer had him craning his neck and putting his hands on his hips defensively. “You haven’t said anything, really.”

Slightly chastened, Kit took a beat to collect her thoughts and offered him her first gut reaction:

“I’ll take ‘Spousal Surprises’ for 200, Alex.”

A deep frown joined the other clear signs of displeasure coming from him. “I think I’ll go shave it off if you’re going to be like this.”

“Oh, don’t be so catastrophic, Randolph! I’m not pulling your leg, honestly. That’s the first thing that popped into my mind, that you have this air of late 1980s and early 1990s Alex Trebek. I’m afraid that I’m still trying to wrap my head around this new look. Surely you’ll grant me that this is a swift change, especially considering how long it took to grow in properly in the first place.”

He seemed to be mollified at least a little by her explanation because he slowly made his way into the room and sat down on the edge of the bed to face her. When he crossed his arms over his chest and gave her a little pout, she knew he was still feeling a little tender about the whole situation so she tried to reassure him. “You still look very handsome, darling. Facial hair or no, I remain your very devoted and loving wife; you’re stuck with me whether you like it or not, I’m afraid.”

His face softened at her words and one hand shifted down to bridge the divide between them and land gently on her knee, squeezing the joint through the bedcovers. Feeling more at ease, she dared to ask, “Was there some reason you decided to trim up this morning?”

The pink hue quickly came to his cheeks and told her that there was indeed a reason, but she patiently waited for him to collect his words to explain.

“I wanted to try something a little different before Monday.”

“What changes on Monday?” she asked as her brow furrowed in confusion.

“We both go back to work, and I go back to being clean shaven.”

“Oh.” Apparently the spousal surprises weren’t quite over yet.

“Is that a good ‘oh’ or a bad ‘oh’?”

“It’s a neutral ‘oh’; if anything, it’s a surprised ‘oh,’ I suppose. I haven’t given much thought to when, or even if, you would go back to being clean shaven.”

His eyes cut to hers with a look of slight disbelief. “You never thought that anything about the timing was conspicuous, that there might have been some driving force behind my starting to grow it out?”

“No. You told me that you were going to try and grow a beard and that’s exactly what you did. The only motivation I would have inferred from the timing was that you were choosing to focus on your health and Sammie’s, and something as insignificant as your daily shaving routine was not a top priority.” She felt him scrutinize her for a long moment, to the point where she started to feel slightly unnerved by it. “What is it, Randolph? Please just tell me.”

The pink coloured his neck and ears as he lowered his eyes to where his hand rested upon her knee, and his voice was quiet as he admitted, “I grew it mostly in an attempt to hide, to not be ‘me’ for little while. I thought...I assumed that you had figured that out, or at least suspected it.”

“I’m afraid not,” she clarified rather quietly herself, feeling more than a little mortified that she didn’t put two and two together. “With everything that’s been going on recently, it never even entered my mind. You must think I’m a right selfish git...”

His responding laugh was deep and rich and something that had been entirely too rare for far too long now. “That is perhaps the absolute last thing I’d ever think about you,” he reassured her as he raised his head and regarded her tenderly. “Besides, I wasn’t exactly eager for you to probe my motives either, so...”

She bit her lip then, trying to decide how or even if she should ask the question that just rushed to the forefront of her mind. When she tried to look away for a moment, only for him to chase her eyes with a gentle smile, she knew he was giving her permission to speak freely.

“Are you ready to stop hiding and be you again?”

“Honestly, I don’t know; I don’t think I can know for certain until I try it out.”

“And how do you feel about returning to work after so long away?”

“I don’t really know how I feel about that either. I’m not ready to walk away yet, but I know that for the first time in more than forty years, the OR won’t be my home anymore and that’s a little scary. My department is in good hands with Dr. Devi and Dr. Nolan and that helps a lot, but I’m facing unchartered territory here...”

“We...we’re facing unchartered territory, Randolph. I’m with you in this.”

He reached for her hand and held it tightly in his own. “And that’s why I’m not as terrified as I thought I would be as I face the final years of my career, because I have more important things in my life now. Even with all the uncertainty at this moment in time, the one thing I do know for certain is that whatever happens, I have you and I have our family and that’s all that matters.”

“Always, love,” she husked out before she leaned forward to capture his lips with her own in a soft kiss and then let out a small giggle as she pulled away again.

“What?” he inquired, more than a little confused by the reaction.

“I just had a little flashback to my childhood. My grandad had a moustache just like yours when I was quite young and whenever he kissed my cheek, it would make me laugh because it tickled.”

“I’ve had facial hair for a couple of months, so why is it only tickling you now?”

She lifted her free hand to thumb at his hairy upper lip and gave him a cheeky smile. “Must be some type of sense memory, Gramps.”

The tease pulled a withering look from her husband before his mouth settled into a pout. “I can still go shave it off; it doesn’t need to stay on my face for the next couple of days.”

Her face shifted quickly to match the pout. “You’d deny me the chance to enjoy my last few days with my scruffy-faced husband?”

As it usually did, her use of the word ‘husband’ lit up his face instantly and he quipped back playfully, “When, exactly, have I ever denied you anything?!”

“You make a valid point, so clearly there’s no need to start now, darling!” After giving him a gentle pat on the cheek and her best toothy grin, she cupped his once-again smooth cheek and turned serious once more. “Putting aside the more psychological origins, how do you like having facial hair again?”

He let out a short chuckle before answering. “Well, for one, I forgot how hot it can get, especially in the humidity. I’m kind of surprised that I lasted this long with the full beard, honestly. And I’m still surprised that only a small handful of people commented on my changing look. It was an interesting experiment and it’s good to know that I can still pull it off, even with it being completely grey and white, but it’s really more work than it’s worth.” He paused to shake his head and then added, “And what about you? Have the past three months changed your mind at all?”

“Not a tick. I love you to the moon and back, Randolph Bell, and I will take you however I can get you.” The true depth of meaning behind that statement was not lost on either of them, but as with so much of their relationship, it didn’t need to be voiced to be understood. “I do, however, fully intend to enjoy this last hurrah before you go back to being clean shaven Dr. Bell.”

“Speaking of last hurrahs, I have an idea I’d like to run by you,” he told her with a bit of a gleam in his eye, which certainly caught her attention.

“Very well, I’m listening.”

“I know both of us were too tired to think about getting away, but I really think we need to get out of the city for a little bit, just the two of us.”

“Perhaps, but there’s no time now; we have less than four days to plan it!”

In a move that was usually reserved for her, he bit down on his lip and hesitated for a moment before admitting, “What if I told you I could get us a lakeside cabin about an hour from here for four days with just one phone call?”

“What have you been scheming up behind my back?!” she asked in mock accusation but with the full knowledge that him making plans without her knowledge was entirely his M.O.

“Absolutely nothing, despite what you’re thinking. My sailing buddy Davis has this cabin that he rents out and his renters for this weekend had to back out very last minute, and he has to go out of town on business so he can’t use it either. We were texting back and forth a couple of weeks ago and he knows that I’m taking time off right now, so he wondered if I might want to use it.”

“Now, when you use the word ‘cabin,’ what exactly does that mean?” she delicately inquired, wanting to get as clear a picture as possible before committing either way.

For his part, Randolph merely chuckled, knowing his wife far too well. “When he first bought the place, it really was a cabin, one with no indoor plumbing and only a wood stove for both heating and cooking. His career in the law has been very kind to him, so you’ll be happy to know that that cabin is long gone and has been replaced by one with floor-to-ceiling views of the lake and every modern convenience you can think of, including a reliable wifi connection from what I’ve been told.”

“And he’s willing to let us use it gratis?”

“I’m sure he’s still getting some money off the would-be renters, not that he really needs it anyways. Besides, he owes me a favour.”

Kit couldn’t help but chuckle. “How lucky am I? I’m married to someone who has ‘a guy’ for nearly every situation, and most of them always seem to owe you ‘a favour’ as well.”

“What can I say, I’m a catch! And by the way, you forgot to add that you’re married to someone who’s handsome and charming and good in bed...”

“Humble and modest, maybe not so much,” she teased back and pulled a deep belly laugh from him that once more delighted her. “That seems too good an opportunity to pass up. Tell him yes before he changes his mind!”

“Really?”

“Yes, really! All we need to do is get ready and pack a few essentials and then we could easily get there before noon. I’m assuming there’s at least some food on the premises...”

“He stocked the fridge yesterday a couple of hours before the cancelation.”

“...then we’ll be more than alright, just you, me and a lakeside view.”

“I should mention that the nearest neighbours are miles away, so bathing suits aren’t strictly necessary.”

“Is that right?” she asked non-committally, trying not to give away how intrigued she was by the prospect. “It might just get left behind then, along with your razor.”

“Good, so I can really work on my woodsman look for a few more days – nothing but flannels, t-shirts, and jeans for me on this trip...if I have to wear anything, that is.”

“You’ll just have to wait and see, darling.”