Room 6620, The Morning Of...

[lady_bols]

The evening had passed quietly, with no more talk of promises or commitment, or anything of consequence, really.

She'd tried to fall asleep, but only succeeded in dozing lightly off and on.  Every time he shifted or exhaled too sharply, she'd found herself wide awake.  Hypervigilance, she thought.  Her mind was fixated on the thought that she might miss saying goodbye. He wouldn't dare sneak out on her.  He was a bastard sometimes, but he wasn't exactly heartless.

Well, most of the time.

When the first light of dawn hit the windows, she was already awake, listening to the sound of his breathing.  She debated getting up and laying out his suit for him, but that would mean leaving the warmth of the bed.

'Love?  It's time.'

She knows he's anxious to get back.  A part of her understands, remembering how hard it was those first few days and weeks in Fenchurch, waiting to wake up from the nightmare.  At least he has the option to go home.

Comments

[lady_bols]

She shakes her head, still grinning.

'I should hope so,' she murmurs, watching him right back. After all they've been through together, she's still not quite sure this is happening. That this is her life now.

Her smile goes crooked, and she tilts her head at him.

'High enough to take home to meet your mum.' She'd honestly never got just how much he'd opened up to her that trip. She'd been so wrapped up in her own little psychodrama. 'I really wish I could do that whole thing over again, and try not cock it up so terribly.'

[the_gene_genie]

'You don't need to be so hard on yourself over that. You'd just seen your mum and dad die again.'

And it's not like his mother is any more real than he is.

'It could have been a lot worse.'

[lady_bols]

Alex is a psychologist. If she thought about it, she'd confess she thinks meeting his own ideal of his mother is probably more important than meeting the real one. But she doesn't look at things in his world as constructs, not anymore.

Not for a long time.

Her lips thin in a smirk.

'Bad as you meeting my mum for the first time? With me bent over a desk and my skirt hitched up?'

God, that was a nightmare.

[the_gene_genie]

He smiles dryly, and pushes a wisp of hair off her forehead.

'I'd met her before that. I think that was probably more embarrassing for you, than me.'

Because it's not like he cares what uptight solicitors think of him. They're as bad as judges, in his opinion. Professional awkward, yes. Not personally.

[lady_bols]

Her eyelids flutter closed at his touch, echoing the butterflies she feels in her chest.

'Yes, but you didn't realize she was my mother. And yes, it was a nightmare. Mostly because she didn't realize who I was.'

'Still, she'd never approve of you.' She looks up at him from beneath her lashes, smiling.

[the_gene_genie]

'Well, no. She made that abundantly clear.'

He's not bothered.

'I don't approve of her, either.'

There's a tiny hesitation, then he adds;

'Was she the same as you remember?'

[lady_bols]

She hesitates for a moment, thinking back. The memories are strangely layered now, both realities interwoven.

'Well, she was larger than life. Driven. Brash. And... cold. So, no, not that much different. I -- I was much closer to my father.'

Her expression shifts as she talks. Even knowing what she knows now, it's still a confusing and painful memory.

[the_gene_genie]

He's thoughtful for a moment, still watching her face.

'Must have made it worse,' he says, quietly.

[lady_bols]

'Mmm. It did, at first. But it also -- brought a strange sort of relief, just knowing what happened. If that makes any sense.'

It's not the kind of memory she relishes going over and over in her head, so she sets it back in its little compartment and closes the lid on it.

She cuts a glance at him, realizing something.

'You never talk about your father.'

[the_gene_genie]

He wasn't expecting that. Luckily, there's been bigger stuff going on, so it doesn't have the impact it usually does, when a question comes out of the blue.

'No.'

He shrugs a shoulder minutely.

'Not much to say about him.'

[lady_bols]

She watches him, and gently reaches out to run her fingers through his hair. It's a wonder just to be able to touch him like this.

'Well, we can leave that conversation for another time. Preferably after a bottle of wine or two.'

She lays her head on her arm, looking up at him with dark eyes.

'There's so much I still want to know about you.'

[the_gene_genie]

There's quite a lot he'd like to know about himself. Or at least be sure of.

'All you have to do is ask.'

He's not enthused about such conversations, but if they're what she wants, he'll try.

He glances around the room, in a probably obvious attempt at deflection.

'I suppose I'd better...'

He's not enthused about that, either.

[lady_bols]

Her smile shifts, the sadness rising again. She feels like they never get a break, but then, they've had the last few days, so... Asking for anything more seems greedy.

'I'll lay your suit out, if you want to have a wash.'

She can do this. It's what needs to be done, and she's always been good at doing what needs to be done.

[the_gene_genie]

'You don't have to do that. I've worn 'em off the floor enough times.'

He still doesn't move. He wants to go home, and has wanted to since he got here. But the idea of it is better than actually walking out of the door.

'I'll go and have a shower. I don't suppose it really matters, going back cleaner than I came in.'

His world has dealt with weirder shit than that, in its time.

[lady_bols]

She's in no hurry for him to move, either.

'I've already hung it up for you. It's not a problem.'

She's even resisted the urge to jot down something naff and stuff it in his coat pocket.

'I'm not trying to rush you off, love. I don't want you to think I'm trying to get rid of you.'

Her hand skims down his arm to find his fingers, interlacing hers through his. She knew this was going to be difficult, but she never anticipated it being awkward.

[the_gene_genie]

'I don't think that.'

He sighs quietly, and squeezes her fingers.

'I just don't know how to do this. It's different from when we were at the pub.'

[lady_bols]

'It is. This time I know where you're going, and I know you'll be back.'

She smiles again, and this time it reaches her eyes. One eyebrow arches imperiously.

'And when you get back, I'm going to snog your face off. And then, I'm going to shag you blind.

[the_gene_genie]

He smiles too. It has a smug hint to it.

'Definitely an incentive for me to hurry back.'

He leans up to kiss her again, because they might as well get their fill while they can. If that's possible.

[lady_bols]

She leans into him, trying to keep it soft and tender, but still, letting him feel the deeper currents. It's not goodbye. It's a promise for better times. For more warmth and touch, and solace. She silently vows, in this kiss, that grief will not define them. It will be an ever present companion, for both of them, each with their own reasons, but it will not rule them.

She pauses to take a breath, her forehead resting against his. 'I love you, Gene Hunt,' she breathes against his cheek, and does not give him time to respond before stealing the next kiss. She rests against him, shoulder to knee, and gives him the strength of her body, gives him a reason to want to return.

This may not be the life they wanted, either of them. But it's a chance, and isn't that all they ever wanted?

[the_gene_genie]

It always breaks him a bit, when she says it. He's not sure what he's done to deserve it. And very sure that he's not worth it, but he can't give it up.

He wraps his arms around her as they kiss, and holds her as close against him as he can. If he didn't already have a reason to return, this would give him one. And right now, he's not sure how to define them outside of this grief - but there's hope, maybe, that it can happen. He's willing to try.

[lady_bols]

He holds her so close, she can feel his heart beating. His scent surrounds her, and she draws it into her lungs, letting it soothe her.

'You're never going to get out of here at this rate,' she murmurs. 'And the sooner you leave, the sooner you can come back. And the sooner you come back, the sooner we can,' she grins a little, still kissing him, 'get on with the good stuff.'

[the_gene_genie]

Nope, still not letting her go.

'You mean you were going to send me out with nothin' to remember you by?'

He looks hurt. Or would do, if he weren't still kissing her.

'Heartless.'

[lady_bols]

Her grin broadens, making more kisses difficult but not impossible. If he feels good enough to flirt, then he's doing better.

'You can't remember, that's the whole problem.' Another kiss. 'So I guess you'll just,' and another, soft and slow, 'have to leave me something to remember you by.'

[the_gene_genie]

'Oh, well,' his arms are already tight around her. It's the easiest thing to plant a foot on the bed, and roll them so she's underneath him. 'I expect I can manage that.'

He settles between her legs, and lets her kisses do their work on his body.

'You know. If I try.'

[lady_bols]

She sighs, feeling his weight settle above her, arranging her long legs around his hips. Another soft mouthful, and one hand finds its home on his cheek.

'Do you want to remember this? On the other side? Because we could write notes, or something...'