And So Things Go, Chapter 18
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21 | Chapter 22 | Chapter 23 | Chapter 24 | Chapter 25 | Chapter 26 | Chapter 27 | Chapter 28 | Chapter 29 | Chapter 30 | Chapter 31 | Chapter 32 | Chapter 33 | Epilogue
Rose was due back any day-not that he’d spoken to her in the time he’d been in London. Instead, he’d emerged from one of his marathon sessions with Elias and Warren to find he had a message from her: “Peter. I’m back by the weekend. I love you.” He’d been amazed by how much so few words could brighten his day. Elias had noticed the shift in his mood, but managed to refrain from comment until Friday afternoon.
“So, you and Rose speaking again?”
“I wasn’t aware we weren’t speaking,” was Peter’s surprised reply.
“Ah.” Elias returned to his notes.
Peter leaned forward, his elbows resting on the desk. “What made you think we weren’t?”
Elias set his pen down, curling his hand into a loose fist and absent-mindedly tapping his thumb against the blotter. “You were in a foul mood on Monday-even by your usual standards-and you’ve not mentioned her since you arrived. Short of your terse comment about not staying at her flat, that is.”
Peter laughed. “Brilliant detecting you’ve done, McCoy. And I told you I’d not be staying with her before I came down.”
“What? Ruby thought the same thing!”
“Neither of you mentioned Rose at dinner-I took that as a hint. And I never talk about her during work, if I can help it.”
“You were chatty enough in Glasgow.” Elias’s tone held a pout.
“I think you’re misremembering facts.”
“So will we get to meet her?”
Peter gave Elias a hard look. “You’re terribly fixated on that, you know.”
“I’m curious.”
“What about?”
“Everything.” Elias leaned back, holding Peter’s steady gaze. “You’re clearly mad for her, which leads me to believe she’s not the flake the zanzare would have us believe. You’re also-let’s be frank-not the most charming of people. I’m curious if you’re different around her.” Elias shrugged. “I’m just curious, Peter. You protect her fiercely-I want to know what kind of woman got you to that point.”
Peter relaxed. “Force of habit, these last few months. Never quite sure who’s lurking or listening. As you’ve seen-the zanzare don’t much care for facts.”
“That can’t be easy.”
“It’s not something I’d suggest everyone experience, no.”
Elias leaned forward, picking up his Biro. “If it’ll bother you, Peter, Ruby and I will survive without meeting Rose.”
“I know. Thing is, she’s curious about you two as well.” Peter felt a wry smile cross his lips. “If we get spare time, you and I-and she’s back in town-I’ll ask Rose if she’d like to join us for drinks.”
“Fair enough.”
Rose returned that night. Peter had just gone to bed after a late supper with Elias and Ruby, when the ringing of the mobile dragged him from his doze.
“Yeah,” he muttered, not bothering to check the ID.
“Hello, sleepyhead.” Rose’s voice held a grin.
“Hello yourself,” he replied, an answering smile in his voice.
“’m back.”
“Good news, indeed.”
“I was going to ask you over, but you’re in bed...”
“You could join me,” he offered.
Rose equivocated. “I dunno. People may talk.”
“Has that stopped us before?”
“There was that one time, in Kendal...”
“Recently, Rose.”
“No,” she laughed.
“Then?”
“I’ll need a room number, you know.”
He rolled onto his back with a sigh. “875.”
“Thistle on the Strand, right?”
“Yes, Rose.”
“I’ll be there in half an hour. Don’t fall back asleep!” She rang off, laughing.
“Hardly likely,” Peter muttered into the dead air.
He rolled over, turning on the light. One of his recent bookstore purchases lay on the bedside table, and he picked it up, intent on reading at least a chapter while he waited on Rose.
He’d finally managed to focus-reading about the pivotal battle in the Allied campaign of 1927, the turning point of the Great War-when he was pulled back to the present by a knock at his door. He glanced at the page number before tossing the book aside and making his way to the door. Maybe Rose would be wearing nothing but a coat...
He opened the door. Rose, unfortunately, was fully clothed in a men’s oxford and a pair of jeans.
“Sorry to see me?” she asked, leaning in to kiss him.
He returned the kiss then took a step back, allowing her into the room. “Not at all.” He closed the door, making sure to throw the bolt, before moving across to where Rose had come to a halt. “You’re disappointingly clothed, but I’m always happy to see you.” He bent down, giving her a proper kiss.
She finally pulled back, breathless, after a few moments. “I’ve missed you.” Rose’s voice was soft as he moved to place soft kisses along her jaw.
“And I you. Quite a lot,” he whispered against her skin.
“Mmm,” she hummed as he came to the corner of her jaw; he’d wrapped his arms around her in a loose embrace, and he rested his chin on her shoulder.
They stood together in the silence, simply enjoying being together again. Peter loved holding Rose to him, loved how relaxed it made him, how comfortable it felt.
Rose leaned back several minutes later. “How are you?” She gave him a searching glance; he felt a flash of warmth pass through him as she ran her eyes across his face, down to his torso.
“I’m well.” He meant it, he realized. He truly felt better than he had in ages.
“You look it,” she said decisively.
“And you? Everything well?”
Rose couldn’t often tell him what she did when she went off on assignment; when she could, it was generally after she’d returned. He always worried, his imagination creating terrors he hoped didn’t truly exist-terrified that something unseen might have happened to her, and that they’d not find out about it until much later.
“I’m fine, Peter.” Rose brought a hand to his cheek. “Boring old trip this time-I’m glad to be done with it.”
He turned to kiss her palm. “I’m glad, too.”
She gave him an exasperated grin. “You’d be happy if I never had to go on assignment.”
“Not true!” he protested, stepping away. Rose gave him a look that expressed exactly how little she believed him. “Sincerely-you’d go mad if you couldn’t go out, go do things instead of sitting behind a desk. I just...I just wish I knew you’d be safe every time.” He ended in a whisper; it was hardly a new discussion between the two of them.
“I’m as safe as I can be-and I’ve got the best team in the bunch.” Rose’s voice was gentle.
Peter shook his head, trying to clear the melancholy. “I bloody well hope so.”
“I know so-and we both know government types are never wrong.” Rose grinned at him before moving to the bed. She picked up the book, lying somewhere near the foot of the bed, wrinkling her nose as she glanced at it. She gently set it on the bedside table, and then turned her attention back to him.
“I suppose I’ll not be reading that to you, then,” he said as he moved to his side of the bed.
“Not unless you want me to be asleep in a minute or less.”
He laughed. Rose loved to hear him read just about anything-but history books, they had learned early on, put her right to sleep.
He crawled into bed, sliding under the duvet as Rose casually undressed. His mouth still went dry at the sight of her in her bra and knickers; she still blushed when she noticed him staring at her. She gave him a soft smile before joining him in bed, snuggling under the duvet; he reached over and turned off the light, then slid down so Rose could curl against him.
“Tell me about your week,” she asked, her hand resting on his chest, her fingers idly playing with the hair smattered across the skin.
It was her favourite way of relaxing when they were together-listening to him describe his week, or the highlights of what had occurred since they’d last spoken. He thought many of the things were mundane; she loved hearing about life in the ‘real world’, as she put it.
So he told her about the week, about meeting Cunningham, about telling Warren of Blackpool; about how they were preparing to go to prosecution. She listened, her fingers still drifting across his sternum. He could feel her nod at some points or purse her lips at others, and he ended by brushing a soft kiss across her hair.
“Sounds interesting,” she offered.
“That’s one word for it.”
“What do you think is going on?” Rose tilted her head back, glancing up at him in the dim light from outside.
“I don’t know. I trust Elias-but I still get the sense something other than the case is at play.”
“D’you miss working with Penny?”
He sighed. “No.” He felt guilty saying it-but it was true. He liked Penny well enough, but Elias was in a completely different class.
“Why not?” There was no judgement in her tone, no condemnation. Only curiosity.
“Penny’s a good detective, and as close to a friend as I have up there. But...Elias isn’t afraid to call me out.”
“And Penny is?”
“Yes. He’s been trained to not trust anyone, I think-not even me, which I suppose is largely my own doing. But even when Elias is giving me a stern admonishment, I never feel as though he’s doing it because he doesn’t respect me.” He rolled over, facing Rose. “I really just like working with Elias,” he finally said, not knowing how else to explain why it was he preferred working with his temporary partner.
“Less baggage, I should think,” Rose offered.
“But he knows of Blackpool.”
“He got to know you before he found out about it. I’d imagine that helped-both of you.”
“Perhaps.”
“How has Kendal been, Peter?”
He felt his muscles tense, his stomach sink just a bit even thinking about his ‘real’ job. “They say ignorance is bliss; it was a lot easier to work there when I didn’t know how bad it really was.”
Rose brought her hand forward, ghosting her knuckles across his cheek. “I’m sorry.” Her voice was full of compassion.
“I’ll survive.”
“You deserve better.”
“You’re very kind for saying so, but I think I’ve fairly well created my own problems in Kendal.”
“Doesn’t mean you don’t deserve better, Peter.”
He stroked his fingers across Rose’s hair, shimmering gold in the half-light. “So you say.”
“You deserve so much better,” she whispered, her fingers sliding down his cheek, across his chin.
He caught her hand in his, bringing her fingers to his lips and brushing kisses over them. “I love you,” he whispered.
Rose freed her hand, using it to cup his cheek. “You’re a good man, Peter. And I love you for it.” She closed the distance between them, kissing him softly.
He wished he could believe her-not about her love, but that he was worthy of it.
He rolled onto his back once more, pulling Rose to him. “D’you have to work this weekend?” His voice, though soft, was loud in the silence which had filled the room.
“Not until Monday. You?”
“Same.”
He felt her grin. “Fancy tea with my mum? She’d love to have you over again.”
He groaned. “You trapped me!”
“I did no such thing!” she protested.
“You lured me into a vulnerable, relaxed state, then sprung the question on me!”
“You sound like one of your suspects,” Rose rejoined.
“Tea with your mum.” He gave a theatrical sigh. “Very well. But-I have a favour to ask in return.”
“Quid pro quo?”
He chuckled. “If you like.”
Rose paused a moment before asking, “What?”
“Elias and Ruby have been desperate to meet you. My refusal to talk about you at work has intrigued them to no end.”
“That’s hardly a chore, Peter-I’m dying to meet them myself.”
“Does that mean I can call in another favour instead?”
“Are you insinuating that meeting my mum is a chore?”
“You insinuated that first, my love.”
Rose took a breath as though to argue, and then released it in a huff. “So I did.”
He went to respond, and instead felt a huge yawn escape.
Rose laughed. “Alright, old man-time to sleep.”
“But-" He had hoped to fall asleep next to her naked, after having made love.
“Sleep. We can greet each other properly tomorrow.” She leaned up, brushing her lips across his. “I love you,” she whispered through the kiss.
“Love you,” he replied, closing his eyes. He drifted off to sleep almost immediately.
~ - ~
Chapter 19
A/N: Before I forget, next Monday is a holiday here in the States. For me, that means I get a day where I can actually sleep in. As a result, Chapter 19 will be posted a bit later than usual--up to five hours later, in fact, assuming I can get my sleep on. Consider yourselves warned. :)