An Officer and the Noble Woman, Part 22.2 (22.2 of 35)
Title: An Officer and the Noble Woman, Part 22.2 (22.2 of 35)
Author: dtstrainers
Paring: Donna Noble/Peter Carlisle
Co-Captain of this Ship: WhosInTheAttic- As always, eternal thanks.
Rating: PG- Plot Galore
Word Count: 3,441- By all rights, this should have gone in with last week's entry, but I'm so busy, I thought it was better to get it out in parts.
Summary: Peter makes a confession to Ian and Donna just can't shake the feeling that someone is watching her.Disclaimer: Donna and Peter- not mine, but in my mind.
Part 1 | Part 5 | Part 10 | Part 15 | Part 20.1 | Part 20.2 | Part 21.1 | Part 21.2 | Part 22
Monday, 11 June 2012 4:45 PM
Ian sat back and rubbed his chin thoughtfully as Peter struggled to keep his expression neutral. By confessing his past transgressions to his current partner, Peter knew had done either the smartest thing he could have or the most idiotic thing possible, and the verdict was still out on which it would end up being. He literally bit his tongue, determined to give his partner the time he needed to process his thoughts on the matter without cluttering them up with his own. And so Peter simply sat and waited for Ian’s response.
"You threatened your partner," Ian stated slowly.
Peter nodded once. "Yeah, that I did." He scratched the back of his neck and looked briefly at the photos on the desk before him before sniffing loudly and looking back at his partner.
“But there's nothing in your records,’ Ian continued in the same tone. Peter wasn’t sure how to read his partner’s reaction, so he answered in kind.
“No, there isnae. Nothin’ official, anyway,” he confessed. “But if you know what you’re lookin‘ for, the signs are there. I wasnae exactly embraced by the law enforcement community in North Lakes after Blackpool,” Peter admitted wryly.
“Why exactly did you do it?” Ian persisted, perplexed. “I mean, beyond Natalie.” He cocked his head to the side and peered at Peter closely. “What made you think you could get away with it?”
“I wondered that m’self for a long time after,” Peter admitted. “It all comes down to this: I made a mistake.” He scrubbed his forehead suddenly, as if to scour away the memory of unpleasant truths. “I kept secrets from my partner. I wasnae honest. I thought I was smarter than Blythe which wasnae fair. He was young but no stupid.” He frowned in remembrance, then regarded Ian steadily. “And...I knew I could intimidate him into keeping mum about my relationship with Natalie.”
Ian sat forward in his chair suddenly, resting his elbows on his knees. “And why then are you telling me?” he wondered. “You got away with it and no one here’s the wiser.”
“I cannae keep the rumors at bay forever,” Peter sighed. “Sooner or later, someone’ll get wind of it. I’d rather you hear it from me. And besides, I want you to be able to trust me.” He offered Ian a slight, bemused smile with a shrug.
"You can see where that might be paradoxical, DI?" Ian snorted as he sat back and considered all he’d been told.
Peter nodded slowly and pursed his lips. "The irony has no been lost on me, DS," he drawled slowly. “I've learned my lesson. I'm sorry.” It was a statement, not an apology, and Peter swallowed his guilt and shame as he waited on his partner’s decision.
Ian rested his chin in his hand and exhaled heavily, his eyes never leaving Peter’s face. Taking in his expression, Peter continued, “I’ll understand if you want to request a new partner.” Ian immediately shook his head and waved away Peter’s offer dismissively while he considered his reply.
Maybe I haven’t bolloxed this up entirely, Peter mused, surprised at how much comfort he derived from that thought. He’d grown so used to distancing himself from his colleagues, either through actions or attitude, that he’d forgotten how right it could feel to trust someone, to have someone he could almost call a mate. He thought back to Donna and her admonishment of his behavior towards Ian and resolved to make amends, if the man was prepared to give him the opportunity.
Ian watched as Peter wandered mentally, lost in thought. The DI really had nothing to gain by his admission and everything to lose, yet he’d still confessed to things of which he’d never have been suspected. “Tell me one thing, DI,” Ian finally ventured and Peter braced himself for the worst. “Was she worth it?”
Peter blinked, then breathed out slowly. “Yes. Yes, she was.” He looked steadily at Ian. “Do I wish I had found another way? Of course.” He paused, and his face twisted briefly with remembered pain before he continued. “But yes, Natalie was worth it, even if things dinnae work out in the end. I have a lot to thank her for.” He regarded Ian from years away, his gaze clouded with bittersweet remembrance.
“And Donna? Is she worth it?” Ian probed cautiously.
Peter’s face lit with a grin. “Oh, even more so,” he declared, remembering ginger hair spread across his pillow and laughter in her bed. “But here’s the thing,” he said, resting his elbow on the desk and pointing at Ian. “Donna? She’d murder me, and make no secret of it. Bloody hell, that woman? After she’d murdered me, she’d lead you straight to m’ body if she ever even suspected I did somethin’ sneaky or dishonest, on her behalf or no.” He sat back and smirked and only just managed not to rub his shoulder as he though of her favorite place to smack him when she felt he was out of line. “No, Donna’s gonna keep me on the straight and narrow, make no mistake. She’s funny that way.”
“Well,” Ian said decisively, “I think it’s high time I met this Ginger Goddess.” Peter raised an eyebrow in question and Ian explained, “That's what Hamish calls her, that new tech we left gaping after us in the lobby? Apparently he ran into her at one day at that sandwich shop you two frequent. Saw her giving hell to a bank manager-type sitting at a table by himself when an older lady was standing having her lunch at the counter. He's quite taken with her; sounds like he’s a bit in awe of her, really,” he finished with a sly smile.
“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Peter acknowledged, still grinning. “She’s a bit of magnificent, actually.” He considered the photos on the desk before him, toying with the one Ian had provided. “I’ll ask her along for Friday?” he said uncertainly, watching for Ian’s reaction.
“See that you do,” he nodded decisively. “The office pool is getting bigger by the day, with odds against you ever showing, and I could use a bit of extra dosh with the Olympics coming to town,” Ian replied, scratching his head.
Peter gave a snort of laughter before sobering. “We good, then?” he asked and Ian nodded.
“Yeah, we’re good,” he replied. “Just don’t let it happen again.”
**********
Monday, 11 June 2012 6:45 PM
“Peter, are you sure?” Donna asked uncertainly over dinner. She was glad of the bustle of the restaurant around them, the flurry of activity acting as a distraction from the quiet drama taking place at their table. “I mean, Pub Night is supposed to be bondin’ time with your coworkers: are you sure I'll be welcome and not in the way? “ she persisted, putting her fork down as she looked at him pointedly. She was pleased that he wanted her to accompany him, but unsure of how to classify her status in his life. She loved him, deeply, and she was reasonably sure that he felt the same, but she was so out of practice that she wasn’t sure how to define their relationship. Were they seeing each other? Dating? Was he her boyfriend? The word seemed trite and unsuitable for the depth of her feelings for him, but she wasn’t sure what the correct term should be.
“I can just wait at home for you, or just see you the next day, if you like,” she offered. “You’re not gonna hurt my feelings, Policeman.” She started to reach out for him but saw something move out of the corner of her eye. She turned slightly towards it, but her gaze slid past the empty booth across from them and smoothly back onto DI Peter Carlisle. She paled slightly but otherwise gave no indication that anything had happened.
Peter swallowed a bite of his koobideh and took a quick drink before answering. “Dinnae be daft, Donna,” he said gently. “I know for a fact significant others are welcome, encouraged even. Turner's been askin' if I'll show for the past month and every single time, he tells me to bring 'that special someone' with. Besides,” he said with a smile, “if you dinnae want to go, I'll just follow you to the George.” He reached across the table and took her hand, squeezing it gently. “I'm not so barmy as to hang around with a bunch of bloody old wankers when I could be with a beautiful ginger goddess.” She smiled back at him, but Peter noticed her eyes straying behind him again before she returned her full attention to him. He frowned and glanced over his shoulder as she spoke.
“Ginger goddess, huh? Better be careful she clears off before I come around or I'll hand her back her arse on a silver platter!” Donna declared boldly with a toss of her head, much to Peter’s amusement. She smiled slyly and picked up her glass. “Hold on- Turner..,” she said, frowning in concentration, “Shakespeare’s blood spatter guy, yeah?”
Peter nodded and clarified as he returned to his dinner. “Forensic Specialist Alec Turner. He’ll be there. You really should meet him. From what I’m told, he’s one of the regulars, along with Ian, Caveman, Dexter and...”
“Pardon?” Donna interrupted. “Caveman?”
“Sorry, Detective Sergeant Manfred Cave. Caveman is Alec’s nickname for him,” Peter explained with a shrug, scratching his chin thoughtfully. “Kinda appropriate, really, and he doesn’t seem to mind. Surprisingly, now that I think of it, he seems to like the name. The man is blunt, crude and tenacious, but beyond that, I don’t know much of him.”
“All the more reason for you to go, then,” Donna said bluntly.
“I want to,” Peter shot back immediately, “but no without you.”
Donna looked down at her plate for a moment, then neatly side-stepped his complaint by asking, “So you've told Turner about us, then?”
“Not in so many words, no. I've kept my private life just that- private, 'til now,” Peter replied carefully. “Ian knows, of course, but Alec? No.” He stopped to consider, then cocked his jaw to the side and gestured at Donna with his fork. “But Alec's smart- I think he figured it out when one of his lab techs came back from pickin’ up lunch that first day we went out.” He nodded to himself, thinking back on his recent interactions with Turner. “And he’s dropped a few hints, askin’ me leadin’ questions. So yeah, he knows.”
“All right, no pressure there,” Donna drawled with a raised eyebrow. “Not like they’ll have any expectations of me, then...”
“Donna,” Peter wheedled, putting his fork down and pushing his plate aside, “ I cannae believe you’re hesitatin’! It was you who told me t’ get out with these people and form relationships. Besides, Alice in reception begged me to come so she'd have a bit of extra cash on hand for her holiday. Ian, too- he’s countin’ on it for when the Olympics start.”
“And what does me showin’ up and them enjoyin’ a windfall got to do with the price of tea in China?” she asked cautiously. She watched him over the rim of her glass as she took a careful sip.
Peter grinned; he had her now. “Weelllll,” he drawled, tugging at his ear, “I hear the office pool is up to £125 that I won't show at all, and £175 that if I do show, it'll be with a bloke. Alice told me her money was on me just showin’ up, so I didn’t have to bring a friend on her account.” He sat back, waggling his eyebrows at her and prepared for the show about to start.
“Oh. My. God!” Donna breathed, scandalized. She spread her hand across her chest and stared at him for a long moment. “There’s money ridin’ on this and you never said a word about me?” Her eyes went wide and she leaned across the table. “Peter, they’re gonna think you just picked me up somewhere to go with you!” she hissed.
“Donna...,” Peter began, but she interrupted him.
“Oh, I’m gonna have to go shoppin’!” she continued, biting her lip as she considered her options.“I want to make a good impression, Policeman, so what...”
“Donna,” Peter said a bit louder, reaching out to capture her hand. “Donna- stop. Just stop. If you want t’ go shoppin’ because ye feel like it, fine; but don’t go just for Pub Night,” he said solemnly, his accent thickening with emotion. “Just go as yerself, that’s all I’m askin’. Don’t go doin’ anythin’ differently. Please.” He stared at her as she sat opposite him and Donna opened her mouth to speak just as the waitress stopped by to clear the table.
“Would you care for anything else this evening?” she asked politely and Peter sat back and glanced questioningly at Donna. She shook her head and Peter turned to the young woman standing beside him. “Just the bill, thanks,” he replied. Once the waitress left, he reached across the table and took her hand again.
“Donna, they’re gonna think I’m the luckiest bastard at the Met when I walk in with ye,” he breathed and for Donna, the din of the restaurant faded into the background. “An’ I never said anythin’ about us only out of habit. I dinnae go about with m’ heart on m’ sleeve, and ye’ve never let me take a photo of ye, so there’s nothin’ on m’ desk for them to see,” he confessed awkwardly, picking at something invisible on the tablecloth before continuing.
“Besides, my partner knows all about ye. He’s been helping me with my...research, but he’s kept mum on what we’ve found. When we get there Friday, everyone else will take their cues from him,” he reassured her. He considered for a moment, mouth open slightly and Donna bit back on a smile when she saw his tongue pressing against the back of his top teeth. “Alec, Ian- they figure the truth will out in the end,” he added, nodding to himself, “and honestly, I think they’re the ones pumpin’ up the odds on the pool to get the big payout.
“And what is it you and Ian have found? About me?” she asked, watching him intently. Peter winced internally: he should have anticipated her response, but he had been so caught up in convincing her to go that he had lost sight of the larger goal. As he was deciding what exactly to reveal, Donna stiffened, her face going oddly slack as her eyes again were drawn to the empty booth behind him. Following her gaze, Peter glanced over his shoulder then looked around the busy restaurant to the line of people waiting at the door. He glanced again at the empty table, curious as to what triggered Donna’s response and momentarily wondering how long the restaurant would hold the table behind them before declaring a no-show and seating someone.
He turned back to Donna and asked, “Love, are ye alright?” He touched the back of her hand in concern. “Are ye rememberin’ somethin’?”
At the sound of his voice, the spell was broken and she struggled to return to him. “Peter, what causes that feelin’?” she asked with a gasp. “The one that makes you feel as though you’re bein’ watched, but there’s no one there?” She shook her head and felt as if she were breaking the surface after being submerged too long. “It’s so odd...unsettling, like someone’s standin’ on my grave. It’s almost like deja vu, but it’s really, really creepy.” She rubbed her arms and shuddered slightly, confessing with an uneasy frown, “Makes my skin crawl.”
“Someone probably is watchin’ ye and yer subconscious has picked up on it,” he reasoned. “It’s someone sneakin’ glances at ye- probably admiring yer hair, or the way you look in that blouse. I know I’ve been doin’ it all evenin’ m’self, tryin’ to decide if I like ye better in blue or green.” He raised an eyebrow as he gave her a sly smile, trying to coax her out of her mood.
The room went strangely silent around them again as Donna’s eyes fluttered. She looked around once more, slightly disoriented, before she settled her attention on him with a sad smile. Peter could see her fight to refocus on him and suddenly she broke out in a teasing grin.
“So what’s your verdict, Policeman? Blue or green?” she baited, her eyes dancing with mischief as she reached out, offering her hand to him.
Peter was relieved to have her back and his smile deepened as he grasped her hand and leaned in to whisper, “Oh, that’s a foregone conclusion.”
She smirked slightly and inclined her head to him, clearly inviting him to continue.
“I love ye,” he said simply. “I don’t care what ye wear- or what ye dinnae wear,” he added with a playful leer, before turning serious. “I love ye, Donna,” and she realized that was all the definition she needed for their relationship.
“I love you, too, Policeman,” she replied, rubbing her thumb over the back of his hand with a sweet smile. His open, delighted grin in response made her heart stumble and swell and she knew her own expression was rapidly approaching goofy adoration as she leaned across the table to kiss him.
Just as their lips were about to meet, the man passing behind Peter stumbled into his chair, jostling him and interrupting their kiss. Peter turned to him as Donna looked up. “I’m terribly sorry,” the man apologized, looking around curiously as Donna took a deep breath. “I don’t know what happened to make me stumble into you. It felt exactly as if someone pushed past me just now.”
Peter accepted the man’s apology with a good-natured smile. “No harm done,” he said, pulling his chair a bit closer to the table. “I wasnae payin’ attention and I probably pushed out in front of you without meanin’ to.”
As he settled back at the table, Donna exhaled, visibly relaxing before him. “And .... it’s gone,” she said with evident relief as the hostess led a young couple to the booth behind them. “Just like that, the feeling’s gone.” She nodded suddenly and declared, “All right, I’ll go to your Pub Night with you. It’s only fair, seein’ as you’ve agreed to hazard a dinner with my family.”
“Aye, I’ve been waitin’ for you to tell me when. Name the time and place,” he replied, nodding towards the door questioningly as he stood. “I’ll be there with bells on.”
“Now that, I’d gladly pay to see,” she said with a smirk as she rose from the table and accepted the hand he extended to her. “Thursday night still all right? Sevenish at Café Rouge on the High Road? It’s my mum’s regular haunt for Tuesday Night with the Girls. She won’t dare make a scene there,” Donna confided as she playfully tweaked his ribs.
He chuckled in response and slipped an arm around her as they reached the street. As they walked arm in arm, Donna felt something jut out and poke into her side. She reached under her arm and patted at Peter’s side, discovering what felt like a small, flat box in his coat pocket. She turned to him questioningly but when he pretended to ignore her, she poked at his ribs harder and he was forced to grab at her hand to save himself from further abuse.
“Oh, it’s nothin’,” he said casually. She abruptly stopped walking, raising her eyebrows and crossing her arms and he looked at her appraisingly before he gave in. “It’s just a little somethin’ I picked up for ye while I was out and about,” he admitted with a shrug, and Donna thought she might have seen the faintest tinge of pink color his cheeks. “I’ll give it to ye once we reach home?” he offered, raising his arm and inviting her back into his embrace as her heart soared on the single word, home. She settled back beside him with a smile and a quick peck on the cheek then headed towards her flat. She quickened her pace and Peter laughed as she drug him along with her. She wondered with pleasant anticipation just what on earth could be in that box that would make her DI blush and she was determined to open it up and find out as soon as possible.
Part 1 | Part 5 | Part 10 | Part 15 | Part 20.1 | Part 20.2 | Part 21.1 | Part 21.2 | Part 22
To everyone who's stayed with me this long- thanks so much. I'm doing my best to get back on a regular once-a-week posting schedule, but here comes the new school year...