RP Log with legalambition | Boss in the House

[seeuincourt]

[A couple of days after THIS]

It wasn't even nine am yet and Jess had already worked herself into a huge ball of stress. Two days until Tom was due back to work, and it felt like everything she had to have tied up before he came back was weeks from completion. She was trying to overcompensate for everything, and on top of that, she didn't trust that his secretary did a decent enough job of making sure his office was in order for him to return. The coffee cup with lipstick on the rim the woman herself had left there was a big sign. It also didn't help that it felt like half of her brain was clogged up thinking about French wankers and every time she looked at Jaws on her desk, it just reminded her of him and set this bolt of yearning to poke him in the eye with a French Fry come over her. It was probably much like The Hulk felt right before he hulked out into the green scary dude.


She was trying to shove three large law texts back onto Tom's shelf as neatly as she could, stretching right up to make sure she got them in the right place. He had always been an awesome boss, giving her free range to use any of his own resources if she needed them. She might have graduated, but she was technically still learning and on a restricted practising licence. Much like a resident would just fresh out of med school. Some cases she needed Tom to shadow her in these stages, and she had been feeling the sting without him. The other partners just never seemed to have the same time and attention for her that Tom did, and she didn't know whether it was just because she was Sophie's sister, or because he really did want to see her succeed like he had. He seemed to practice law with ease, she was in awe of him. She still doubted every day she would ever have the guts or balls to be as good as Tom was.

Tom was sporting quite the impressive tan with all his nude sunbathing on the cruise. He was proud not to come back like any other Englishman and have those hideous white patches where Speedos, or his shirt would have been. Not that he wore Speedos. He might have been gay, but he was not into them. He could think of much better things for his cock to be tucked into. Like Stuart's arse. He licked his lips at the thought, his gaze dropping to the ring on his left hand. If nothing else, there had definitely been something genuinely special to come out of the cruise. Ethan had wasted no time pulling the piss with Tom regarding the synchronised proposals, but his best mate really was happy for him.

And Tom himself really was happy for the first time in years. He had decided to come back to work a couple of days early, his way of easing back into his "real life" back in London. He hadn't minded Jules and Kenzie staying on in the Notting Hill home, not that Kenzie appeared to be spending much time there. Stuart seemed happy to have Jules around - a link to his brothers, and that was enough for Tom. He tilted his head as he watched Jess, his blue eyes flashing with deviousness as he walked softly into the room and came up right behind her to reach up easily to tuck the book back into its slot. He grinned as he dropped his voice to a husky growl. "How do you feel about bearing a gay man's child? You certainly have the hips for it." He even gave her hip a squeeze for emphasis.

Jess squeaked in surprise and jumped at his voice, but she managed to quickly regain her composure by grabbing his hand reflexively and squeezing it back, though it was hard and squished his fingers together. She scrunched her nose up at him and shot him a small glare. He might be her boss, but he was also his brother-in-law's best mate. Family came first when cases weren't involved, and ever since Sophie had stopped giving Ethan a rough time of his pursuit, the whole bunch had a camaraderie together. "You're so bloody lucky you're not straight, Hunt," she shot back. "Have you been taking lessons off Ethan's French gopher?" But the way she had squeezed his hand around his fingers, something dug into her thumb and with a gasp, she twisted and pulled his hand up in front of her face to get a better look. Left hand, ringer finger, a gorgeous thick Celtic ring that most definitely wasn't there when he left on his holiday. "Oh my GOD!"

Tom arched an eyebrow. "I don't want to be bloody straight, love. My cock's going nowhere near a woman. Well, not in that way. Ethan's French gopher? He doesn't have a... Oh. Phillipe? I heard about that. I'm really sorry you had to suffer through his rather abysmal attempt at a pull." He had clenched his jaw at the way she'd squeezed his hand but now he relaxed as he smirked, and watched her reaction to the ring. He was a man, but that didn't mean he could get enough of seeing people's reactions to his engagement ring when they noticed. "I gave Stuart one. Seems we both had the same idea."

Jess gave him a sharp smack in the arm with another squeak and then started bouncing up and down. "Oh my god! You did do it! You did! Fuck all those bastards downstairs, you rock, Mr Boss Man!" she cried, holding his hand up so she could study the ring closer. Then she got all emotional and started to fan at her face. "Awww, you proposed on a cruise! You're getting married! I can't believe you're getting married! I knew it! I knew you would do something! I'm so jealous, it's not even funny!"

Tom tilted his head as his pride started to turn into concern. His eyebrows knitted together and he sucked on his bottom lip for a moment. "Are you going to cry, Jess? There's really no need to, you know. Happy news, remember? And if you start, I... probably won't, but would definitely become uncomfortable. Plus this is a new shirt, and I don't want it all damp." He gave her hand a squeeze before leaning forward to kiss her forehead. He really had taken to Jessica. She was like Sophie in a lot of ways, but like any of the Morgans that he'd met she very much had her own style, and personality. "Of me, or him?"

"Both of you!" Jess cried in exasperation, only just managing not to give into the urge to cry happily. She knew what he had been through, she had seen with her own eyes how Stuart tried to cope with Tom's accident, too. It was like a fairy tale, and she was really fucking jealous. Why did her supposed Prince Charming turn out to be the frog? She was blaming PMS, because it was coming with an urge to eat a whole block of Cadbury's and poke a straight male in the eyeballs. "You didn't seem the sort, now you are. You guys make it look so easy. I don't mean the whole horrible things you went through, I just mean... the relationship."

Tom gave her a sympathetic look before he pulled her into a hug and rubbed her back soothingly. "Hey, hey. No need to hate me so much. You'll find it some day. I never really thought I'd find it, but look what happened. Just go around and randomly throw yourself on top of guys in the street and see what happens. Trust me when I say it's not completely easy. You just happen to see the smooth patches. Or at least most of them."

Jess hugged him back, overcome with a sudden urge to just cling to him for a bit. He was back and he wasn't dead in some squished truck with a murdering drunk driver at the wheel. "I'm just having a moment. Everyone's all hooking up, at least, that's how it feels. Even Rita in the cafe downstairs. Rita. She's marrying a bloody sailor! Why can't I find a sailor? Lauren's fallen for a pilot and bollocked a model all in one week. I get Google Guy with roaming eyes and hands with a fish and clown fetish."

Tom bit his lip to stop himself from laughing, amused at Jess' rambling. "A sailor? I hope she's scoured the ports for any of his other wives. Just to make sure. You don't want a sailor, love. They're dirty seamen. I'm sorry, that was bad. A pilot and a model? Well, she's definitely done well for herself. What makes you think she's fallen for him, though? Phillpe is hardly Google Guy. He's actually quite a nice bloke. Apart from the French thing. If he was gay, I definitely would've fucked him. His eyes and hands were... poorly used. And I really can't speak for a fish and clown fetish."

Jess poked him in the chest for emphasis. "Not just any bloody model. Your brother-in-law to be," she told him, quirking an eyebrow at him. "So, tell me why I don't want a sailor and should opt for Richie Rich, huh? He's yet to endear himself, and trust me, I can speak for the fish and clown fetish." She grabbed his hand and dragged him into her office down the hall, pointing first at the clown thing in the corner of the room that she had pointed into the corner like it was doing a detention, and then the fish flitting around in the bowl next to her phone.

Tom's eyebrows went up. "Braden? Shit... I had no idea he was even on the pull. Apparently there's some redheaded lassie he's hung up on. He was getting drunk over her up in Surrey." He followed her obediently if only because he was genuinely curious about the clown and fish fetish Phillipe seemed to have developed. He gave a subtle rub to his chest while her back was turned, still feeling a little tender. "I, erm... have no answer. I just know Phillipe really isn't such a tosser. I don't know what short-circuited his brain, but he is better than fish and clowns. Although it is kind of sweet. I assume."

Jess shrugged. "I think it was just a one-nighter fun type thing. I wouldn't know, I've never met any of Stuart's brothers. Lauren only realised who he was when he was hired for a shoot by her boss. She was adament he didn't give off he relationship vibes though, which is why she went on to belt Phillipe's other half in the face with a freezer door." She put her hands on her hips, eyeing the fish and then reached over to spin the clown thing around to reveal Phillipe's face stuck to it. Reflexively she growled when she immediately got frustrated just at the sight of it. "Bastard. I need to Google how to say that in French."

"Julien?" Tom reached up to rub the back of his neck as he tried to keep up with what she was telling him. "She belted him in the face with... a freezer door? You Morgan women really don't like Frenchmen, do you? Makes me even more glad I'm not straight. I'd hate to see what you'd do to me if I tried to make a move. Not that I would as your boss, of course." Tom looked at the clown again and scrunched up his nose as he tried to hide his amusement. "Connard is a much stronger way of saying it. Do you really hate him that much? He seems to have gotten under your skin, love."

"Julien. The pilot. Just got back from war, apparently," Jess confirmed distractedly when a blue envelope sitting in her inbox caught her attention. Legal letters didn't usually come in blue envelopes. She moved over to her desk and picked it up to open with her slim letter opener. She had learnt that just tearing into correspondence in this industry could mean tearing into important documents. Never a good thing in the realms of evidence. "It was an accident. Something to do with ice cream and leather boots. She really wanted to jump his bones..." She read over the letter and then her eyebrows shot up. "What the fu- hell?! He's trying to invite me to a party for his brother. Do you know about this? Wait. It's addressed me via you. Cheeky little bastard connard type person!"

Tom slipped his arm around Jess' shoulders and kissed the top of her head. "Personally I think the bloke's just trying to redeem himself. It's actually pretty smart. And yes, I do know about the party." Tom reached into his pocket to pull out a similar envelope that he'd gotten out of his letterbox before leaving for the office. "I was planning on asking you to accompany me as my fag hag. Assuming it's not too much of a professional clash of interests for you to accept such a position. Ethan was set on giving me Sophie, but it doesn't feel right. From what I've heard Phillipe has invited everyone, and anyone. Julien has been away for over a year. It's only right he gets a big welcome home."

Jess raised her eyebrows. "You're standing your fiance up for me? I don't think he'll be very impressed with that. In saying that, he might have his hands full and you'll have to drag him away from work. Virginia's Irish bloke? Totally exploded all over the precinct and landed in hospital, shit hitting fans all over the place. That's the last I heard, something to do with poisoning. She's not here today, apparently she wants to kill him over something. See? Us chicks don't just want to kill the French. We have time for Irish too. Bloody hell, I have no time for parties... even if it is kinda sweet that he wants to celebrate his brother being back home. I think I'd cry for days if any of my brothers or sisters were away that long," she admitted, maybe wavering just slightly.

Tom watched her with his eyes narrowed, taking in every little change of her features. He wouldn't admit to it but there was maybe a tiny bit of him trying to play cupid. He knew Jess needed some fun, and he honestly believed Phillipe would be good for her. The Frenchman had just done himself no favours through by being a total plonker. First impressions were hard to correct if they went badly. "No, I was just going to take you along as well as my fiance. Bloody hell, I heard about Euan. Poor bloke. He's the Irish bloke to Stuart's partner. Although there was a phone call between them last night that has me seriously wondering about it. She's spent this whole time by his bedside, and now he's awake they seem to have pissed each other off again. So no, you don't just have it in for Frenchman. I'm just glad I've bagged a Scot." He gave Jess a gentle squeeze. "You have time for parties if I tell you to have time for parties. Don't turn yourself into a martyr. I know you're meant to be putting in ridiculous hours, but not at the expense of your health, or your private life. You should spend the night with friends and family. The entire Morgan clan's been invited. Ethan and Soph will be there..."

"How can they piss each other off when he's in hospital? I have no idea of the ins and outs, I just know that Vee was, I dunno, angry and upset all at the same time. Something's going down, I guess we'll hear about it when we're meant to. He was filling in for Stuart, so now that he's back, things should go back to normal. Should, mind. Doesn't mean they will. A lot's changed obviously," Jess deduced, pressing her lips together with a shrug. She frowned at the invitiation in annoyance. "Oh brilliant. That means if I say no, I'll look like a tosser. He's done this deliberately, so I can't say no. And in my own defense, I really don't have time since you lumped me with Ethan's paperwork the other day. I haven't had time to dig my panties out of my butt, let alone have a social life."

Tom cleared his throat as he shrugged. "To be honest I stopped listening when I started playing with his cock and trying to distract him from the phone call. It was bad of me, but I don't care. His cock's mine now." He let go of Jess to circle her desk and bent down to examine the fish. As far as goldfish went it wasn't exactly an ugly one. He wondered if Stu ever wanted a pet. "He's smart. He's determined. He's clearly trying to make up for his wrongs, love. Just how long do you plan on keeping him in the doghouse? And I'm back now. Two days early, so I'll help you get the paperwork done. Call it an early bonus. I'll leave the digging your panties out of your arse up to you."

Jess raised an eyebrow. "And what makes you all so certain he's even my type? Am I that much of a charity case that the first bloke to comment on my arse, I should jump into bed with? Is that it? I might just happen to think his style was crass and unwelcomed. Who says I'd ever want that near me again? I'm allowed to have standards too. Everyone else seems to. You say doghouse as if he's my husband, and he's nothing of the sort. He's a bloke not used to being rejected, plain and simple." She sniffed and dropped the invitation back into her inbox and then shoved some other papers over the top of it.

Tom straightened up as he held his hands up in defence. "Hey, hey. I'm sorry, Jess. I'll stop talking about it. Of course you're entitled to standards. I was merely trying to help. However, I'll still give you a hand with the paperwork since we did ruin your week. It's the least I can do. I also still would like to gently suggest you go to the party, even if you just stay away from Phillipe, or shove a bottle of Chardonnay up his arse."

Jess pointed. "I'll go. For Ethan, considering it's his colleague and I don't want anyone thinking his own family isn't supporting him. And I'll go for Lauren, because she wants in the pilot's flight suit. Nothing else," she resolved determindly. "And thank you, for the help with the paperwork. Without it, I really wouldn't have the time to go."

Tom smiled. "You're welcome. And I'll pretend not to be insulted that you won't go for me as my fag hag. I'll just have to keep continuing my search to find the perfect one." He came back around the desk and embraced her in a hug. "For the record, I did miss you, you know. I've grown quite attached to having you here."

Jess sighed and hugged him back. "Hopefully I haven't fucked it all up for you and you have a bigger mess to clear up than when you went away. No one else really wanted to bother their arse training me. I've been a trumped up secretary most of the time. Of course I'm fag hag material. Who else but my gay boss would be trying to nudge me in the direction of goldfish boy just so I could get laid, huh? He's just grown soft, because he's a bride-to-be now," she teased.

Tom chuckled as he rubbed her back. "So you'll accept the added role to your new position, hm? Someone's got to help me pick the perfect suit. I've got to get the trousers tailored to fit just right, though. We decided on snug to show off my package. Stu's got to wear the traditional kilt, and I wouldn't have it any other way. It doesn't hurt just to get a lay in, though. If only I had a straight brother to offer you, but I don't."

"And glasses," Jess added with a wide, knowing smirk and held up her finger. "Ahhh, I heard the stories. You're going to see just how dangerous it can be having two big families like the Morgans and the Evans team up now, Thomas Hunt." She paused and now took the time to look him over. "Slightly peaky in the eyes, despite the tan. You tell me if you need any help, okay? With anything. Or if you need to check out and go home for a lie down. Soph will kill me if I don't make sure you're okay. She said you still have your moments occasionally."

"I do," Tom admitted quietly as he pressed his lips together. "I'll just ease back into things, but you'll be the first to know. Promise. Don't need you copping sisterly wrath. Especially not when I don't want to know what happens if I piss off both sides of the family."

Jess didn't look completely convinced. "Are you on some shortened hours? Not just sisterly wrath." She curled her finger at him, getting him to come over to her PC on her desk. Top of the range, of course. Tom wouldn't have anything less in his firm. Even her desk was probably worth more than her car. She brought an email up on the screen, from Stuart sent the night before telling her to let him know ASAP if Tom started to look tired. Of course, this was obviously before Jess had any clue that Tom was coming back to work early. At the end, there was also a PS making sure she stopped Tom drinking so much coffee when he was apparently supposed to be on decaf for the moment. She smirked at her boss. "What's male word for pussy-whipped?"

"Cock-blocked?" Tom suggested with a slight groan. His head fell to Jess' shoulder and he tried not to growl in frustration. It was bad enough knowing he had to switch to decaf, and it was bad enough knowing Stuart had ridden his arse about working while in Surrey, and then working - just a little! - on the cruise. He lifted his head again and pushed out a breath from his nose as he stared at the screen. "You ever make me a fucking instant decaf and you're fired. I'm not on shortened hours exactly... Just need to find my rhythm again."

Jess glanced at him over her shoulder with a small smirk. "You should be happy, you know. Do you know how much I would kill for this?" She gestured to the screen wistfully. "He cares so much about you to be anal on the little things. Most blokes don't even remember by surname, just my bra size. He's trying to still take care of you without you even knowing because he doesn't want to piss you off, he just wants to know you're okay. Maybe you should be on shortened hours? A little bit extra time with him now and again? I've never even had one guy take care of me when I've had a cold, let alone anything else."

Tom squeezed Jess' shoulder affectionately before he moved to drop down into her chair. "Just out of interest... what's the longest relationship you've ever had, love? I can't even begin to judge since Stuart's the closest I've let any man, but from what I have learned... This never comes until you get someone willing to let you in close. Willing to go to great lengths to gain your affection and trust. Like sending you fish, and clowns, inviting you to parties where he knows you'll have the safety net of family, and where he knows he'll have to face all of your family. For example," he finished with a smirk. "How about I promise not to work weekends unless it's absolutely dire, and I'll try and be out of the office by seven?"

"Five thirty, and you've got yourself a deal. If he's working back, you can, but if he's not, you go home," Jess bargained and then held up her hand. "Is this you not talking about him, because you suck at it, you know that? Your lawyer tactics don't work on me, mister, and I won't turn to a pool of mush with the glasses. My longest relationship was a year, he fucked around on me. It was a college thing. The relationship, not the fucking around. The fucking around was cocksucker thing. First time I have ever seen Liam belt someone to unconsciousness." She wryly scratched her eyebrow, remembering the night far too clearly.

Tom pressed his lips together. "Shit, I'm sorry, Jess. On all counts. But the cocksucker thing really is inexcusable. I don't blame your brother for doing that in the least. Alright, you have a deal about the finishing times. And I really will stop talking about Phillipe starting from... now. Have you had breakfast yet? Or lunch? I think we need to get you out of this office for a little while then we'll start on the casework."

Jess really was discontent, and she hadn't really been able to put her finger on why. She got frustrated easily, started to second guess her work. She could only put it down to once again finding herself in a slump of self-doubt about her abilities, about her life, about what was around the corner for her. She looked over the piles of work on her desk and a protest about leaving the office was on the tip of her tongue, but she sighed and nodded. "Okay, but not too long. I need you to decipher Ethan's handwriting for me in these notes he attached. He writes perfectly until he goes off on a train of thought, then I'm screwed."

Tom stood up and nodded. "Of course. Just long enough for you to get a proper meal inside you, and for me to get a cup of decaf I don't want to throw at someone." He went to get Jess' coat, and held it up for her to put on. "You do a good job, Jessica Morgan. I really would be lost without you."