he smiles when she's not looking
Title: Film Appreciation
Character/s: Alex Fielding, Tony Hill, Ben Fielding
Word Count: 1500
Spoilers: For 5.03 'The Names of Angels'
Disclaimer: Not mine not mine not mine.
Summary: Tony meets Alex and Ben for a movie, just as she asked him to.
*
"Yep?"
"Hi, it's me."
"Oh, hi. How can I help?"
"Yeah, Ben and I want to invite you to the cinema. We need cheering up."
"So do I. I'd love to."
*
He hears them long before he catches sight. Ben's argument over sweets is half-hearted at best, but even still, as he approaches his ears pick up Alex, the surrender obvious in her voice, but perhaps only to him.
"Not too much, Ben, please."
He rounds a corner, sees Ben wandering toward the fluorescent snack bar, and Alex, standing with the slightest bow in her shoulders, and her arms folded. He nears, and touches the point of her elbow as gently as he can, but she is still startled.
"Hi, Alex."
She turns quickly to blink up at him, and her arms fall loose. A tired smile crosses her mouth.
"Tony. Thanks for coming."
He musters his best, and grins in reply. She doesn’t buy it.
"What's going on? Why do you need cheering up?"
He glances away, follows the crown of Ben's head visible through the shelves of sweets.
"It's nothing. A patient."
When he looks back at her she is still watching him, eyes narrowed and surprisingly dark. Her voice is soft, meant only for him.
"Will you tell me about it? Later?"
He holds her gaze. He could tell her, everything, but then she'd only have more to worry about, and he has no desire to become another burden for her arms to carry.
"Maybe. If you tell me what happened with Ben's dad."
A quiet scoff, and she folds her arms across her chest again.
"Nothing happened. He just didn't show up. Which is typical of Gabriel."
Gabriel.
He's never heard her refer to her ex-husband by name before. It makes him think of angels, of swords and trumpets and glory. It smarts, knowing the name. Worse than before, when there was only a vague presence, a shadow known only to him as 'Ben's father'.
He hates this Gabriel, he discovers. Even more, for today.
Ben returns, hands already sticky with lemonade and loaded with bags of sweets. The topic is dismissed, and he watches as Alex frowns delicately, and shakes her head.
"I thought I said not too much?"
"It's okay, Mum, Tony'll have some too. Won't you?"
And Ben's smile, at least, is completely genuine, as he proffers a bag of dusted jelly babies.
"Yep."
He searches briefly for a red one, and pops it into his mouth, watching for Alex's reaction and feeling already considerably more cheerful.
Her eyes close and she seems to be fighting off her smile, working hard at feigning exasperation, and this is one of his many favourites, of all the things she does.
"I'll get the tickets."
Scrabbling in a pocket for his wallet, he doesn’t even manage to locate it before she waves three tickets like a fan in front of his face.
"Beat you to it. But thanks, Tony."
He is irrationally disappointed, and goes for another jelly baby. Orange, this time.
"Well. Next time, then."
She throws a smile over her shoulder as she leads the way, and it occurs briefly to him that she might not believe there will be a next time upon which he could return the favour. He reaches for her elbow again, as Ben dashes ahead.
"Next time, Alex. Definitely."
She doesn't stop smiling up at him, not until they step over the threshold into the darkened theatre.
Ben chooses the seats, and sits himself in the middle. Another bubble of disappointment rises within him, but he pushes it swiftly back down, remembering it's only fair that Ben should sit in between them, given he is seven.
There are advertisements, and a brief discussion of whether Wispa Golds are better than the original, and then the lights go down.
Over the top of her son's head, Alex catches his eye.
She is smiling, a proper smile, and he feels suddenly as if he has achieved something great.
Alex and Ben have already seen the film, and he hasn't read the books, so fifteen minutes in he swaps seats with Ben, in order to have proper access to the sweets and also to Alex, as she whispers the plotline in his ear.
It doesn't help his comprehension, however, and he can't seem to focus on the screen nor on her words, because in the process of leaning into him she has laid her hand on his arm, just below his rolled-up shirtsleeve.
Her fingers are cold, her touch light, but certain.
He wants terribly to close his own hand over hers, so to distract himself he shovels in sweets, one after the other, and stares hard at the screen. She seems to take his frown as concentration, and so she elaborates further, leaning even closer.
At one both magical and disastrous point, her lips brush his ear.
He flinches, visibly, and curses himself.
"Right. Right, I think I've got it, Alex."
His voice is far too loud, and earns him a 'shoosh' from somewhere in the dark behind them. He dares a glance at her, and she has let go of his arm now, and is blinking very quickly, and turning to the screen again herself.
He winces, and tilts his head in her direction.
"Sorry. Just feeling a bit sick. The sweets."
She turns to look at him, her face instantly suffused with concern.
"It's nothing, I'm fine."
He manages a weak smile, and her expression of concern turns into half a scowl.
"Stop eating them, then."
He nods in what he hopes appears an agreeable fashion, and allows himself to watch her profile for a brief while longer, when she turns away from him once more.
The end is sad, not to mention confusing, and as they file out Ben launches a long-winded explanation for his benefit, and this he finds far easier to concentrate upon, unsurprisingly enough.
They wind through closed shops and out into the carpark, and he seizes the opportunity to help Alex into her jacket, which earns him a smile which could be either pleased or mildly suspicious.
Theirs cars, as it happens, are in opposite directions, so he walks them over to theirs, feeling confident this display of chivalry should at least go without teasing.
When they reach the drivers' door, she makes a quick little movement which could be a mock curtsey, and he can't help rolling his eyes at his own misfortune, and misjudgement.
"Thanks again, Tony."
She is smiling so brightly, so beautifully that he finds locating a reply a challenging task.
"My pleasure. And thank you."
Ben is already bundled in the back seat, his small face watching them through the window.
Her smile fades, just enough to be disappointing.
"Are you feeling alright, Tony?
"Hmm?"
He is still far too distracted.
"The sweets."
"Oh. I'm fine, Alex. I'm fine."
She nods, and then his stomach seems to decide perhaps it isn't fine after all, because she has caught hold of the fingers of his left hand in her own. Alarm courses through him, alongside something else far more unsettling.
"You will tell me about your patient, won't you?"
He remembers, and the happy respite he has been feeling for the last few hours evaporates.
She waits for his reply, patient as ever, still holding his hand.
"Alright. If you want me to."
A squeeze of her fingers sends him reeling.
"Good. Come by my office on Monday. We'll talk."
When she lets go, he feels impossibly cold, and sadder than before. He closes her door gently, watching as she turns her keys in the ignition and says something to Ben, who waves ferociously from the back seat.
He returns the gesture, sadly with not quite such enthusiasm, but catches the flash of her smile and the press of her fingertips ever so briefly against the glass. If he were quicker, he could press his to hers to match in place, but he isn't, and then she is backing out, and driving away.
The walk back to his own car is lonely, but as he jams his hands into the pockets of his coat he remembers, and smiles to himself as he adds two points onto his mental tally of all the times she has touched him.
Even his silent flat seems more welcoming, when he returns, and finds a message flashing red on his answer machine. He hits play, and listens to her voice as he sets the kettle to boil.
"There's three more films in the series, Tony. We've started a tradition now, I hope you realise."
A pause, and he smiles, knowing she was doing the same, on the other end as she spoke.
"I'll see you Monday. Goodnight, Tony."
He whispers his reply into the quiet, and pours his tea, still smiling.
Character/s: Alex Fielding, Tony Hill, Ben Fielding
Word Count: 1500
Spoilers: For 5.03 'The Names of Angels'
Disclaimer: Not mine not mine not mine.
Summary: Tony meets Alex and Ben for a movie, just as she asked him to.
*
"Yep?"
"Hi, it's me."
"Oh, hi. How can I help?"
"Yeah, Ben and I want to invite you to the cinema. We need cheering up."
"So do I. I'd love to."
*
He hears them long before he catches sight. Ben's argument over sweets is half-hearted at best, but even still, as he approaches his ears pick up Alex, the surrender obvious in her voice, but perhaps only to him.
"Not too much, Ben, please."
He rounds a corner, sees Ben wandering toward the fluorescent snack bar, and Alex, standing with the slightest bow in her shoulders, and her arms folded. He nears, and touches the point of her elbow as gently as he can, but she is still startled.
"Hi, Alex."
She turns quickly to blink up at him, and her arms fall loose. A tired smile crosses her mouth.
"Tony. Thanks for coming."
He musters his best, and grins in reply. She doesn’t buy it.
"What's going on? Why do you need cheering up?"
He glances away, follows the crown of Ben's head visible through the shelves of sweets.
"It's nothing. A patient."
When he looks back at her she is still watching him, eyes narrowed and surprisingly dark. Her voice is soft, meant only for him.
"Will you tell me about it? Later?"
He holds her gaze. He could tell her, everything, but then she'd only have more to worry about, and he has no desire to become another burden for her arms to carry.
"Maybe. If you tell me what happened with Ben's dad."
A quiet scoff, and she folds her arms across her chest again.
"Nothing happened. He just didn't show up. Which is typical of Gabriel."
Gabriel.
He's never heard her refer to her ex-husband by name before. It makes him think of angels, of swords and trumpets and glory. It smarts, knowing the name. Worse than before, when there was only a vague presence, a shadow known only to him as 'Ben's father'.
He hates this Gabriel, he discovers. Even more, for today.
Ben returns, hands already sticky with lemonade and loaded with bags of sweets. The topic is dismissed, and he watches as Alex frowns delicately, and shakes her head.
"I thought I said not too much?"
"It's okay, Mum, Tony'll have some too. Won't you?"
And Ben's smile, at least, is completely genuine, as he proffers a bag of dusted jelly babies.
"Yep."
He searches briefly for a red one, and pops it into his mouth, watching for Alex's reaction and feeling already considerably more cheerful.
Her eyes close and she seems to be fighting off her smile, working hard at feigning exasperation, and this is one of his many favourites, of all the things she does.
"I'll get the tickets."
Scrabbling in a pocket for his wallet, he doesn’t even manage to locate it before she waves three tickets like a fan in front of his face.
"Beat you to it. But thanks, Tony."
He is irrationally disappointed, and goes for another jelly baby. Orange, this time.
"Well. Next time, then."
She throws a smile over her shoulder as she leads the way, and it occurs briefly to him that she might not believe there will be a next time upon which he could return the favour. He reaches for her elbow again, as Ben dashes ahead.
"Next time, Alex. Definitely."
She doesn't stop smiling up at him, not until they step over the threshold into the darkened theatre.
Ben chooses the seats, and sits himself in the middle. Another bubble of disappointment rises within him, but he pushes it swiftly back down, remembering it's only fair that Ben should sit in between them, given he is seven.
There are advertisements, and a brief discussion of whether Wispa Golds are better than the original, and then the lights go down.
Over the top of her son's head, Alex catches his eye.
She is smiling, a proper smile, and he feels suddenly as if he has achieved something great.
Alex and Ben have already seen the film, and he hasn't read the books, so fifteen minutes in he swaps seats with Ben, in order to have proper access to the sweets and also to Alex, as she whispers the plotline in his ear.
It doesn't help his comprehension, however, and he can't seem to focus on the screen nor on her words, because in the process of leaning into him she has laid her hand on his arm, just below his rolled-up shirtsleeve.
Her fingers are cold, her touch light, but certain.
He wants terribly to close his own hand over hers, so to distract himself he shovels in sweets, one after the other, and stares hard at the screen. She seems to take his frown as concentration, and so she elaborates further, leaning even closer.
At one both magical and disastrous point, her lips brush his ear.
He flinches, visibly, and curses himself.
"Right. Right, I think I've got it, Alex."
His voice is far too loud, and earns him a 'shoosh' from somewhere in the dark behind them. He dares a glance at her, and she has let go of his arm now, and is blinking very quickly, and turning to the screen again herself.
He winces, and tilts his head in her direction.
"Sorry. Just feeling a bit sick. The sweets."
She turns to look at him, her face instantly suffused with concern.
"It's nothing, I'm fine."
He manages a weak smile, and her expression of concern turns into half a scowl.
"Stop eating them, then."
He nods in what he hopes appears an agreeable fashion, and allows himself to watch her profile for a brief while longer, when she turns away from him once more.
The end is sad, not to mention confusing, and as they file out Ben launches a long-winded explanation for his benefit, and this he finds far easier to concentrate upon, unsurprisingly enough.
They wind through closed shops and out into the carpark, and he seizes the opportunity to help Alex into her jacket, which earns him a smile which could be either pleased or mildly suspicious.
Theirs cars, as it happens, are in opposite directions, so he walks them over to theirs, feeling confident this display of chivalry should at least go without teasing.
When they reach the drivers' door, she makes a quick little movement which could be a mock curtsey, and he can't help rolling his eyes at his own misfortune, and misjudgement.
"Thanks again, Tony."
She is smiling so brightly, so beautifully that he finds locating a reply a challenging task.
"My pleasure. And thank you."
Ben is already bundled in the back seat, his small face watching them through the window.
Her smile fades, just enough to be disappointing.
"Are you feeling alright, Tony?
"Hmm?"
He is still far too distracted.
"The sweets."
"Oh. I'm fine, Alex. I'm fine."
She nods, and then his stomach seems to decide perhaps it isn't fine after all, because she has caught hold of the fingers of his left hand in her own. Alarm courses through him, alongside something else far more unsettling.
"You will tell me about your patient, won't you?"
He remembers, and the happy respite he has been feeling for the last few hours evaporates.
She waits for his reply, patient as ever, still holding his hand.
"Alright. If you want me to."
A squeeze of her fingers sends him reeling.
"Good. Come by my office on Monday. We'll talk."
When she lets go, he feels impossibly cold, and sadder than before. He closes her door gently, watching as she turns her keys in the ignition and says something to Ben, who waves ferociously from the back seat.
He returns the gesture, sadly with not quite such enthusiasm, but catches the flash of her smile and the press of her fingertips ever so briefly against the glass. If he were quicker, he could press his to hers to match in place, but he isn't, and then she is backing out, and driving away.
The walk back to his own car is lonely, but as he jams his hands into the pockets of his coat he remembers, and smiles to himself as he adds two points onto his mental tally of all the times she has touched him.
Even his silent flat seems more welcoming, when he returns, and finds a message flashing red on his answer machine. He hits play, and listens to her voice as he sets the kettle to boil.
"There's three more films in the series, Tony. We've started a tradition now, I hope you realise."
A pause, and he smiles, knowing she was doing the same, on the other end as she spoke.
"I'll see you Monday. Goodnight, Tony."
He whispers his reply into the quiet, and pours his tea, still smiling.