humiliatedrook

Title: Between Me and You
Fandom: The Queen's Gambit (TV)
Rating: G
Length: 1K words
Content notes: Past alcohol addiction, past substance abuse.
Author notes: Constructive criticism on pacing, flow, characterization welcome!
Summary: Beth's nerves on her wedding day. Soft slice-of-life Beth Harmon/Benny Watts, background Beth & Jolene and Beth & Cleo.

As a professional chess player, Beth would have assumed she'd feel more comfortable at weddings than she does. The bride in white. The groom in black. Every piece on its square, every friend she’s ever made gathered with her in the congregation. Small easy steps down an aisle, just like a pawn winding its way to promotion, although she can’t remember any pawn of hers ever shaking as much as her hands are right now.

Beth isn’t sure where these nerves are coming from - maybe Alma’s residual spirit gliding through her, as her mother would be fussing over every last detail and driving her crazy, but she would be the reason the day flows as smoothly as the notes of Gnossienne No. 1. Without Alma, Beth had done her best, with gracious help from Jolene, who could be a wedding planner if her legal firm didn’t pay so generously, and Cleo, whose flair for aesthetic and connections with French designers guarantee wedding pictures that will please Chess Review and the tabloids. It makes it simpler.

Love is so complicated. Every chapter of Beth’s life could tell you that. She and her psychologist had spent hours knocking around memories of two dead mothers, two absent fathers, alcohol, and tranquilizer pills, to distinguish what was “love” and what was not. There is love in her friendships, in the form of laughter and affection that belie hiccups and misunderstandings and ill-phrased questions and silences that span years and fights where the blame settles on the shoulders of many, as well as a broken heart or three. But forgiveness - she doesn’t always understand the nature of it, but she can embrace it.

And then there’s love and Benny, who will argue until the cows come home on pawn endings and what Luchenko’s rook should have done instead of capture the bishop in his 1949 game against Tal, who plays every game against her like a battle or a prelude to one (once, an apology), who struggles to cook and care about any coat that isn’t a leather trench with plaid lining. Beth and Benny shouldn’t make sense, but Beth finds the smile he reserves for her almost as beautiful as the game itself. Some couples like to travel to exotic countries with thrills and adventure, but the only sights Beth and Benny seek lie on their chessboards. Beth loves to chase him down a promising transposition that takes three hours to unpack; he learns to enjoy the perks of a deluxe suite by the shopping district at their tournaments instead of a motel.

Anyone with eyes can tell her she’s beautiful and glamorous, and anyone with half a brain can tell her she’s the best chess player in the world. Only Benny kisses her in a way that makes sense, only Benny tells her she’s the best there is but wouldn’t it fun to challenge yourself to be even better? With Benny by her side and some healing of her own, Beth can be Beth without wanting to drink her talent down the drain.

Two former child prodigies together is so often a recipe for disaster, and yet everyone who meets them can’t deny: they make each other better in a way no one else can. Maybe that’s why she’s in love with him, and he with her, and why she doesn’t hesitate yes when he asks.

Their venue is a mansion in Vermont, Beth inside a white foyer and Benny behind the door, somewhere in the backyard. The press had assumed she would either have a courthouse wedding or a large, lavish affair. She and Benny had opted for something bigger than her high school graduation, but nothing that would break a budget, something that would supersede tradition without wholly rejecting it. The foyer is a mix of Jolene's practical glamour and Cleo's pretty adornments. Arthur Levertov gives her a reassuring smile across the room, but she’s still shaking, the frail petals of her elegant bouquet trembling dangerously with her hands.

“Honey.” Beth feels Jolene’s arm on her shoulder. “Breathe.”

“My makeup is going to smear.” Beth is trying to swallow her hiccups while Jolene looks like she’s trying not to cry, too.

Cleo comes to her rescue, wiping her face gently then touching up the powder. “You look like a queen,” Cleo smiles proudly at her handiwork while Jolene nods approvingly. “Thank you,” is all Beth says as she hears her cue.

The doors swing open to reveal a fairytale scene against the sunset: green grass, twinkling lanterns, regal fences, white chairs, a long white carpet leading to a floral arch. The pianist starts playing a song to which she can walk steadily just like she practiced. The audience turns to her. The wedding officiant smiles where she stands. Benny’s eyes lock with hers.

Even from a distance, she sees his jaw drop a bit at her dress. “Hi,” she mouths to him. He mouths back to her, “You look amazing,” and Beth fights her blush. Jolene’s daughter is proudly throwing rose petals and dancing down the aisle. The bridesmaids and groomsmen exit ahead of her.

Before Beth realizes it, it's her turn. She forgets how to walk and thinks she’s floating through the chairs. Next thing she knows, Benny is a foot away from her.

She whispers to him, “Do you ever get so nervous you want to faint?”

He murmurs back, “Doesn’t everyone?” Something in her eases. She takes in his appearance: he cleans up nicely in a well-fitted tuxedo that Hilton definitely forced him to tailor. He should dress up more often. It’s strange how well it fits him.

Love is confusing in all its shades of grey, whether it’s friends or wedding planning or conversations or the man standing across from her. She’s not naive enough to think life is a fairytale, and there will be good days and bad days, sickness and health, tournaments where she’ll win and he’ll place second, challenges and more challenges.

But just for tonight, it doesn’t need to be complicated.

Her hands are shaking, her cheeks are almost sore from smiling, and the only reason why she’s not embarrassed about the tears stinging her eyes anymore is that she can see them in Benny’s, too. Love can be simple and easy and bursting with possibility all at once. Like a chessboard, sixty-four black-and-white squares, it can be beautiful.

The officiant keeps talking. “Little cheesy, isn’t she?” mutters Beth to her almost-husband, Mr. Harmon, she smirks to himself, as Jolene and Cleo have nicknamed him for the last few months.

“You think the same way I do,” Benny grumbles back. Beth resists the urge to laugh and kiss him now.

Distantly, Beth hears someone say “I do.” It’s probably her. Then, Benny’s lips are on hers, and her hands are pressing into his chest, his white shirt crinkling beneath her bouquet.

This kiss is blissful, yes, but it’s one that’s chaste enough for company and show. Cheers and camera shutters echoing around her, she breaks away to smile at him quizzically. She can read his eyes, intense and happy: “Proper one later, when no one is looking.”

She almost agrees, but then thinks, Fuck it. Tonight isn’t complicated. Like every chess game between her and Benny, her husband this moment and forever, she doesn't care who stares.

She might actually be crying now, but her hands have never felt surer as she wraps her arms around Benny’s neck to kiss him again.