Maybe
Title: Maybe
Fandom: Law & Order:UK
Characters/Pairing: Matt/Alesha
Disclaimer: Law & Order and all its characters belong to Dick Wolf. I'm keeping the two blondes though. They're mine.
Summary: Matt is stressed and his normal solution isn't working.
Rating: I'm bad at ratings. PG-13? R? There's lots of thinking about smut, but no actual smut.
Author's notes: I wrote L&O fic. I wrote het. WTF? Jamie Bamber, what have you done to me? Spoilers for the episode 'Unloved', but only in the first paragraph.
Matt sat at the table and watched the last dregs of his pint swirl around the bottom of his glass. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the two blondes who had been eyeing him all night, but that particular form of stress-relief didn’t seem to hold its usual appeal. He’d smiled at them every time their eyes accidentally met, his body so well practised at this routine that it was almost a reflex now, but had paid them no real attention. Now he closed his eyes and tried to fight off images of two boys - one broken and bloody; the other young and afraid and so small he couldn’t see over the dock.
Movement near the bar told him that one of the girls, the prettier one, had finally decided to take matters into her own hands and approach him. He fought the urge to sigh and instead flicked on a smile. His face felt like it might break in two. She didn’t seem to notice anything wrong as she sat on the sofa beside him and slid across the leather. He watched as her fingers brushed against his hand where it rested on the table.
“You’ve been nursing that pint all night. Anything you want to talk about?” she asked, her other hand settling on his knee. It was like a bad line from a bad film, and while Matt normally wouldn’t care about that when a pretty girl was flaunting her cleavage at him, tonight it suddenly felt cheap.
“Why? Are you some sort of therapist?” It didn’t have the playful tone his smile had promised and the girl leaned back, suddenly unsure. The flash of vicious amusement Matt felt was followed quickly by guilt. It wasn’t her fault they weren’t playing the game she thought they were playing. “Sorry, love, that came out harsher than I meant it to.” If it was a bit weak, it at least had the virtue of being true. “I’m not really in the mood for company tonight. Trust me, you’ll have more fun with someone else.” Also true.
“Oh. Right. Suit yourself.” She shrugged, doing a pretty good job of hiding her mortification, and stood up. “Have a good night.” Matt watched her walk back to her friend, and while part of him admired her arse in those jeans, most of him was just relieved she had gone, and with the minimum of fuss.
He studied his glass for a further five minutes, debating whether to buy another drink to warm between his hands for a couple of hours or just give it up as a bad job and go home. His plan to get blindingly drunk, or a shag, or both, didn’t seem to be working out.
He regretted his indecision when the space beside him was once again filled, this time with something in a skirt with nice legs. Bloody women. Couldn’t they just leave him alone? He turned towards the newcomer with his polite smile fixed in place, then felt it spread wider when he realised who it was.
“You’re here. Brilliant,” Alesha said, smiling like she’d won the lottery. Matt frowned. Her greetings were usually more along the lines of ‘I need a favour’, or ‘where have you been?’, or ‘white, two sugars’. At no point had she ever said he was brilliant.
“Yes, I’m here. Why is that brilliant? And why are you here?” He wouldn’t have thought it possible but Alesha’s smile got even bigger at this. She leaned forward slightly and warmth swept up his arm as she rested her fingers lightly on his wrist.
“It’s brilliant,” she said, and then paused as though about to make some big announcement. Unable to resist her mood, he leaned his head towards hers and he knew his smile was as big as hers was, though only she knew the joke. “It’s brilliant because it means I win.”
Matt frowned again “You win? You win what?”
“I had a bet with Ronnie. I said you’d be in here and Ronnie said you’d be in the George. And here you are. Not in the George.”
“That’s it?” Matt said, laughing. “That’s what you were so pleased with yourself about?” Then, “Hang on. What are you and Ronnie doing making bets about me?”
Alesha shrugged. “Everyone needs a hobby, even CPS. I know what yours is, that’s why I thought you’d be in this place.” She nodded towards the bar, where Matt’s earlier companion and her friend were now surrounded by men. “Ronnie thought you’d be somewhere quieter where you could nurse your pint and brood in peace.” Matt looked at his solitary glass on the table and twisted his mouth into half a smile. Ronnie, it seemed, was better at judging his moods than he was.
Alesha’s phone rang and she pulled it out of her bag, grinning when she saw the display. “Speak of the devil.” She pushed her hair to one side as she answered the phone and settled back into the cushions, her crossed legs causing her skirt to ride up a little. A bit higher and he’d know if she was wearing tights or stockings. “Hi Ronnie. Yeah, he’s here.” Matt would have paid good money to hear the other side of the conversation and know just what Ronnie said that made her flash such a mocking look at him. “I didn’t, actually. He was sitting by himself in a corner, moping. Looks like we were both right.” She listened a bit longer, then said goodnight and hung up. Her face became more serious when she noticed him watching her, though the smile still lingered around her mouth and eyes. He was almost overwhelmed by a sudden image of her laying back on the sofa, beneath him, pushing up against him. Not a good idea. The bar staff probably wouldn’t appreciate it.
“So, what did Ronnie say?” Matt tried to keep his voice light and steady, and mostly succeeded.
“He says you’ve got to at least pretend to act like a gentleman and buy me a drink, since I had to come all the way here looking for you,” she said. Heat flared through his arm again; her hand was back on his wrist.
“Nobody made you come looking for me. I was quite happy by myself.”
“Yeah, that’s what it looked like.” She smiled at him again and Matt realised that this was her default setting. When she wasn’t on some Great Crusade for Justice, she was all smiles. She tilted her head slightly, and Matt was once again assailed by images: her head tipped back, eyes closed, breathing heavy and uneven; his lips at her throat, tongue tasting skin; her skirt being pushed higher, hands grasping at thighs while her fingers grappled with his belt-buckle. “So. How about it then?” she said.
Matt blinked and forced his mind back to the here and now. “Er, what?” he said, prompting another smile.
“Buy a girl a drink?” It sounded like a bad line from a bad film. Matt laughed.
“Sure, why not? Make yourself comfortable, I’ll get them in.”
Matt made his way to the bar, nodding companionably at the blondes who were currently experiencing a lull in the stream of male admirers. He heard a distinct ‘not in the mood for company my arse’ but chose to ignore it, instead turning to look back at his table.
Alesha had stood up to take her coat off, revealing a white shirt with a perfectly professional neckline that showed off her collar bone and just the slightest hint of what the well filled-out shirt promised. Matt wondered if the skin there was as soft as it looked and despaired of actually being able to walk back to the table.
Attracting the barmaid’s attention was as easy as ever and soon he was back at the table, drinks in hand. “Here you are, my lady. Never let anybody say I’m not a gentleman. Especially Ronnie Brooks.”
“Thank you very much, sir. I will make sure he doesn’t slander your name any further.” Alesha took the proffered glass with a smile and sank back against the cushions, squirming her shoulders slightly.
“Comfy?” Matt asked, eyebrows raised. Alesha stopped squirming.
“I am now.”
He relaxed back into the spot beside her and rested his arm along the back of the sofa. “Tell me something about working for the CPS that only an insider would know.”
It was Alesha’s turn to raise her eyebrows. “Are you pumping me for information?”
“Why would I do that? We’re on the same side. I’m just curious what you think of your work.” It was, he realised, actually true.
He sipped his drink and listened as she regaled him with a somewhat unexpected story involving George Castle, a bottle of single malt and James Steel’s Rubik’s Cube. Maybe, he thought as he watched her gesture expansively, her face alight, maybe Ronnie was right. Maybe there were better ways to get over a bad day than sex. A glimpse of cleavage caught his eye as Alesha leaned forward to put her drink down.
Maybe not.
Fandom: Law & Order:UK
Characters/Pairing: Matt/Alesha
Disclaimer: Law & Order and all its characters belong to Dick Wolf. I'm keeping the two blondes though. They're mine.
Summary: Matt is stressed and his normal solution isn't working.
Rating: I'm bad at ratings. PG-13? R? There's lots of thinking about smut, but no actual smut.
Author's notes: I wrote L&O fic. I wrote het. WTF? Jamie Bamber, what have you done to me? Spoilers for the episode 'Unloved', but only in the first paragraph.
Matt sat at the table and watched the last dregs of his pint swirl around the bottom of his glass. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the two blondes who had been eyeing him all night, but that particular form of stress-relief didn’t seem to hold its usual appeal. He’d smiled at them every time their eyes accidentally met, his body so well practised at this routine that it was almost a reflex now, but had paid them no real attention. Now he closed his eyes and tried to fight off images of two boys - one broken and bloody; the other young and afraid and so small he couldn’t see over the dock.
Movement near the bar told him that one of the girls, the prettier one, had finally decided to take matters into her own hands and approach him. He fought the urge to sigh and instead flicked on a smile. His face felt like it might break in two. She didn’t seem to notice anything wrong as she sat on the sofa beside him and slid across the leather. He watched as her fingers brushed against his hand where it rested on the table.
“You’ve been nursing that pint all night. Anything you want to talk about?” she asked, her other hand settling on his knee. It was like a bad line from a bad film, and while Matt normally wouldn’t care about that when a pretty girl was flaunting her cleavage at him, tonight it suddenly felt cheap.
“Why? Are you some sort of therapist?” It didn’t have the playful tone his smile had promised and the girl leaned back, suddenly unsure. The flash of vicious amusement Matt felt was followed quickly by guilt. It wasn’t her fault they weren’t playing the game she thought they were playing. “Sorry, love, that came out harsher than I meant it to.” If it was a bit weak, it at least had the virtue of being true. “I’m not really in the mood for company tonight. Trust me, you’ll have more fun with someone else.” Also true.
“Oh. Right. Suit yourself.” She shrugged, doing a pretty good job of hiding her mortification, and stood up. “Have a good night.” Matt watched her walk back to her friend, and while part of him admired her arse in those jeans, most of him was just relieved she had gone, and with the minimum of fuss.
He studied his glass for a further five minutes, debating whether to buy another drink to warm between his hands for a couple of hours or just give it up as a bad job and go home. His plan to get blindingly drunk, or a shag, or both, didn’t seem to be working out.
He regretted his indecision when the space beside him was once again filled, this time with something in a skirt with nice legs. Bloody women. Couldn’t they just leave him alone? He turned towards the newcomer with his polite smile fixed in place, then felt it spread wider when he realised who it was.
“You’re here. Brilliant,” Alesha said, smiling like she’d won the lottery. Matt frowned. Her greetings were usually more along the lines of ‘I need a favour’, or ‘where have you been?’, or ‘white, two sugars’. At no point had she ever said he was brilliant.
“Yes, I’m here. Why is that brilliant? And why are you here?” He wouldn’t have thought it possible but Alesha’s smile got even bigger at this. She leaned forward slightly and warmth swept up his arm as she rested her fingers lightly on his wrist.
“It’s brilliant,” she said, and then paused as though about to make some big announcement. Unable to resist her mood, he leaned his head towards hers and he knew his smile was as big as hers was, though only she knew the joke. “It’s brilliant because it means I win.”
Matt frowned again “You win? You win what?”
“I had a bet with Ronnie. I said you’d be in here and Ronnie said you’d be in the George. And here you are. Not in the George.”
“That’s it?” Matt said, laughing. “That’s what you were so pleased with yourself about?” Then, “Hang on. What are you and Ronnie doing making bets about me?”
Alesha shrugged. “Everyone needs a hobby, even CPS. I know what yours is, that’s why I thought you’d be in this place.” She nodded towards the bar, where Matt’s earlier companion and her friend were now surrounded by men. “Ronnie thought you’d be somewhere quieter where you could nurse your pint and brood in peace.” Matt looked at his solitary glass on the table and twisted his mouth into half a smile. Ronnie, it seemed, was better at judging his moods than he was.
Alesha’s phone rang and she pulled it out of her bag, grinning when she saw the display. “Speak of the devil.” She pushed her hair to one side as she answered the phone and settled back into the cushions, her crossed legs causing her skirt to ride up a little. A bit higher and he’d know if she was wearing tights or stockings. “Hi Ronnie. Yeah, he’s here.” Matt would have paid good money to hear the other side of the conversation and know just what Ronnie said that made her flash such a mocking look at him. “I didn’t, actually. He was sitting by himself in a corner, moping. Looks like we were both right.” She listened a bit longer, then said goodnight and hung up. Her face became more serious when she noticed him watching her, though the smile still lingered around her mouth and eyes. He was almost overwhelmed by a sudden image of her laying back on the sofa, beneath him, pushing up against him. Not a good idea. The bar staff probably wouldn’t appreciate it.
“So, what did Ronnie say?” Matt tried to keep his voice light and steady, and mostly succeeded.
“He says you’ve got to at least pretend to act like a gentleman and buy me a drink, since I had to come all the way here looking for you,” she said. Heat flared through his arm again; her hand was back on his wrist.
“Nobody made you come looking for me. I was quite happy by myself.”
“Yeah, that’s what it looked like.” She smiled at him again and Matt realised that this was her default setting. When she wasn’t on some Great Crusade for Justice, she was all smiles. She tilted her head slightly, and Matt was once again assailed by images: her head tipped back, eyes closed, breathing heavy and uneven; his lips at her throat, tongue tasting skin; her skirt being pushed higher, hands grasping at thighs while her fingers grappled with his belt-buckle. “So. How about it then?” she said.
Matt blinked and forced his mind back to the here and now. “Er, what?” he said, prompting another smile.
“Buy a girl a drink?” It sounded like a bad line from a bad film. Matt laughed.
“Sure, why not? Make yourself comfortable, I’ll get them in.”
Matt made his way to the bar, nodding companionably at the blondes who were currently experiencing a lull in the stream of male admirers. He heard a distinct ‘not in the mood for company my arse’ but chose to ignore it, instead turning to look back at his table.
Alesha had stood up to take her coat off, revealing a white shirt with a perfectly professional neckline that showed off her collar bone and just the slightest hint of what the well filled-out shirt promised. Matt wondered if the skin there was as soft as it looked and despaired of actually being able to walk back to the table.
Attracting the barmaid’s attention was as easy as ever and soon he was back at the table, drinks in hand. “Here you are, my lady. Never let anybody say I’m not a gentleman. Especially Ronnie Brooks.”
“Thank you very much, sir. I will make sure he doesn’t slander your name any further.” Alesha took the proffered glass with a smile and sank back against the cushions, squirming her shoulders slightly.
“Comfy?” Matt asked, eyebrows raised. Alesha stopped squirming.
“I am now.”
He relaxed back into the spot beside her and rested his arm along the back of the sofa. “Tell me something about working for the CPS that only an insider would know.”
It was Alesha’s turn to raise her eyebrows. “Are you pumping me for information?”
“Why would I do that? We’re on the same side. I’m just curious what you think of your work.” It was, he realised, actually true.
He sipped his drink and listened as she regaled him with a somewhat unexpected story involving George Castle, a bottle of single malt and James Steel’s Rubik’s Cube. Maybe, he thought as he watched her gesture expansively, her face alight, maybe Ronnie was right. Maybe there were better ways to get over a bad day than sex. A glimpse of cleavage caught his eye as Alesha leaned forward to put her drink down.
Maybe not.