Somebody To Love (Ben Hardy!Roger Taylor fanfic)

twenty six

Rebecca couldn't go on tour. 

Linda had told her that because they were so understaffed, it was just impossible to let two of her employees be off on holiday at the same time. 

Mary had immediately offered not to go at all, let Rebecca go instead but of course, Rebecca wouldn't have that. 

If Queen were going to be big, which let's face it, they would be, she'd have to get used to the fact that Roger would be gone for long periods of time. 

Roger, he was pissed off. Not at her though, it wasn't her fault that Freddie and everyone else failed to tell him that partners were invited. 

It was going to be their final night together for a while and Roger had decided that he'd make it a special one. While Rebecca was out at work, he'd spent most of the day in the kitchen attempting to make a lasagne, which was one of her favourites. He'd splurged out on a couple of nice bottles of wine and even set her small circle table up with candles and a vase of flowers. 

As he said, special.

He was putting on a record when she got home, turning when he heard her keys in the door, quickly moving so he could open the door for her.

"Gosh," she breathed when he pulled it open, "You scared me." 

"Sorry," he grinned, giving her a soft kiss, moving them back into the flat with their lips still locked together.

"Welcome home," he whispered, pulling back ever so slightly. 

"Thank you," Rebecca smiled. "You..." she trailed off when she saw the set table behind him, "Did...did you do this? What's that smell? Are you cooking?" 

"So many questions," Roger laughed, taking her jacket off for her to hang it up, "But to answer them, I did do it, it's lasagne and yes, I am cooking." 

Rebecca moved through to the kitchen to peer into the oven, "It looks lovely. Aren't I a lucky lady?" 

"Just wanted to do something nice for you," he shrugged, "Not going to see you for a while, am I?"

She sorted his collar, giving him a sad smile, "No, you're not."

"Every weekend you're off, you'll come see me, yeah?" he asked, resting his hands on her hips as he began swaying them to the beat of the music. 

"Of course," she nodded, "Linda says she'll try and give me as many as she can. For some reason, she feels awfully bad." 

"So she should," he huffed, "Keeping us apart like that." 

She couldn't help but laugh, stepping out of his embrace when the oven timer went off, "It smells amazing, Roger. I thought your cooking knowledge stopped at bacon and eggs." 

"That's rude," he said as she followed him into the kitchen once more, "I used to cook everything when Brian and I lived together." 

She peered over his shoulder when he put the dish down on the counter, kissing his cheek as he took the over gloves off, "Thank you for dinner." 

"You're welcome," he mumbled, "Now how about you go sit yourself down and I'll bring this through in a minute." 

||-||

The dinner was delicious. So good, that Rebecca jokingly announced that when he returned from tour, Roger would be in charge of making dinner every night. 

He insisted that she go relax on the couch while he tidied up and who was she to argue? 

At seven, the phone rang and humming along to the record that was playing, she put her wine glass down and got up to answer it, "Hello?"