Danger and Safety (Doctor Who/Law & Order: UK x-over)
Who_Daily Link: < a href="http://persiflage-1.livejournal.com/244672.html">Danger and Safety by < lj user=persiflage_1> (Characters: Martha Jones, Alesha Phillips/James Steel (Law & Order: UK x-over) | Rating: PG-13 | Spoilers: DW S4; L&O: UK 1.04)
Title: Danger and Safety
Author: Persiflage_1
Characters/Pairings: Martha Jones, Alesha Phillips/James Steel (Law & Order: UK x-over)
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Assumes you've seen DW S4 and Law & Order: UK up to 1.04
Summary: A case of mistaken identity embarrasses James Steel.
Disclaimer: ITV owns Law & Order: UK. The BBC owns Doctor Who. I got nothin' except too many plot bunnies!
Author Notes: Blame lost_spook for this little plot bunny - she wanted confused!James meeting Martha! This fic is AU for Law & Order: UK, insofar as the on-screen dating in 1.07 insists that events early in "Alesha" took place while events in "Unsafe" were unfolding. I don't need that kind of complication, so I'm ignoring 1.07 again.
Beta: fourzoas the kindly
~~~~~~
Dr Martha Jones scrambles over the last bit of rubble and stumbles onto the road, only to have her shoulders seized from behind moments later by a strong pair of hands. She is spun around and catches a brief glimpse of a tall, blond-haired man with intense blue eyes, before he ducks his head and kisses her hard on the mouth. If she hadn't been breathless with surprise, she rather thinks the kiss would have done the job. Certainly her knees feel a bit weak, and she is quite glad this man is holding her so firmly, although she's also rather amazed to be kissed so intensely by a complete stranger.
"Thank god you're okay," he says, evidently very relieved, after he finally releases her.
"I'm sorry, but do I know you?" she asks.
"Did you hit your head when the bomb went off? I should get a doctor to look at you; you might have concussion," he says, anxiety plain in his voice.
Martha pulls away from him, then crosses her arms over her chest. "I am a doctor," she answers, unsure whether to be amused or concerned.
"No, you're not," he says, taking her arm and beginning to guide her towards the crowd of paramedics and ambulances. "You're a Crown Prosecutor."
Martha digs in her heels and pulls free of him again. "I. Am. A. Doctor," she says, spacing the words out and glaring at him. "Are you sure you're not the one who's concussed?"
He frowns down at her. "Me? I've just come from visiting the Ackroyds' grave. I told you that was where I was going after I'd been to see Slade at the Major Investigations Unit." He rubs a hand over his face and Martha can't help the inconsequential thought that his hands look strong.
"Who do you think I am?" she asks.
His frown deepens, and she notices that he's rather attractive, even when frowning. "Alesha Phillips, a Crown Prosecutor, and my right-hand woman," he answers. "Who do you think you are?"
She laughs. "I know who I am," she answers. "I'm Dr Martha Jones, and I work for UNIT, not the CPS."
He shakes his head. "No, that's not right." He reaches out and clasps her upper arm again. "I really think you need to let someone check your head."
"I can prove that I'm not this Alesha," Martha says and digs inside her jacket for her ID badge, pulling it free and holding it out to him. "See? Dr M Jones, UNIT MD," she reads aloud.
"But you look just like Alesha," he persists.
She makes an odd noise in the back of her throat, and he looks down at her, puzzled. "Identical cousins are one thing, but doppelgangers are something else," she says cryptically.
"What?" he asks.
"Who are you?" Martha asks. "Besides this Alesha's boss."
His frown returns. "I'm James Steel, chief London Prosecutor for the CPS," he answers. "Are you really not Alesha?" He's looking anxious now and faintly embarrassed, which isn't surprising given the intensity of the kiss he'd given her.
"I'm really not," she answers gently.
"Oh god!" He flushes, his embarrassment obvious now. "I'm really sorry I kissed you," he says. "I thought you were Alesha, and I was so relieved she was safe that I didn't really think about what I was doing. And if you're not Alesha, where is she?" He swallows and looks back at the rubble, all that remains of the pub where he'd arranged to meet Alesha after she'd finished work. "Is she dead?"
Martha grabs his arm as he starts back the way they came. "You can't go back there," she says urgently. "It's not safe."
"But I have to find her," James says just as urgently, trying to pull away and feeling slightly surprised to realise that she's stronger than he expects.
"Nevertheless, you can't go into that ruin," Martha says more insistently as she moves in front of him and pushes at his chest. "Why don't you ring this Alesha? She might not have been in the building when it blew up."
He digs frantically in his pockets, pulling a mobile phone from the inside pocket of his dark blue pinstripe suit. Martha steps back a little to give him some privacy, but keeps a wary eye on him.
"She's not answering," James says after a couple of minutes, anguish in his tone and expression.
"Let's not panic just yet, okay?" she suggests, taking hold of his elbow and leading him towards the ambulances that are parked at a safe distance from the collapsed building. "I know one of the civilians has been taking the names of everyone who has been taken to a hospital, if we've been able to ID them. Your Alesha might have been taken in already, so let's find out."
He nods numbly and stands staring back at the ruins while Martha talks to a young man in a black uniform and a red beret, and a woman paramedic. After a few minutes she touches his arm, and he looks around to see her smiling at him.
"Apparently one of the ambulances took a young woman named Alesha Phillips to the Royal Hope Hospital," she says. "Come on. I'll drive you there."
"Didn't anyone comment on the fact she looked like you?" asks James curiously as he follows Martha down the street to a small red car.
"No. I wasn't here. I was off-duty when this kicked off and by the time my UNIT colleagues had arrived she'd already been taken to hospital. And I arrived after they did, so anyone who would've noticed she looked like me didn't see her."
He nods, then carefully folds himself into the front seat.
"Sorry, do you want to get a taxi instead?" Martha asks, realising he must be uncomfortable.
"No - I just want to find Alesha," he answers. "What did you mean earlier, when you said 'Identical cousins are one thing, but doppelgangers are something else'?"
She glances sideways at him. "I had a cousin, Adeola, who could have been my identical twin."
"I'm sorry," he says, sounding sincere.
"It's okay." She's impressed that he has sussed out that Adeola is dead, then reminds herself that he's a barrister and therefore trained to be observant. "Tell me about Alesha," she invites.
"She's brilliant," James answers fervently. "Smart, strong, determined, compassionate, and very hard-working. I honestly couldn't manage without her."
"And does she know how you feel about her?" asks Martha.
He gives her a sharp look. "What do you mean?"
"James, you kissed me when you thought I was her. And we're not talking about a little peck on the cheek. That was a real toe-curler." She feels her face heat up at this admission and hopes that he won't notice, then she sees that he's blushing and immediately feels better.
"I - uh - " he stutters. "I shouldn't have done that."
"Is it actually against CPS rules for employees to have interpersonal relationships?" she asks.
"I've no idea," he answers. "It's never been an issue for me before. I'm just not sure it's very ethical."
Martha is tempted to say 'Bugger ethics', but she bites back the comment. "I just think that if you care about her as much as that kiss implied, you should say something to her." She pulls up in the short-stay car park outside the hospital.
"Thank you for the lift," he says, "and for not slapping me when I kissed you."
She smiles, then leans over to kiss his cheek. "Take care of yourself, and your Alesha, James Steel."
"And you." He clambers out of the car, then waves as she pulls away, before gathering his coat around himself and heading inside.
* * * * * *
After fifteen minutes of waiting and hassling people, James is finally allowed in to see Alesha. She's lying in a bed, looking more fragile than he's ever seen her, but her expression brightens when she spots him approaching.
"Hello," he says softly, taking a seat at her bedside.
"Hey."
"What's the damage?" he asks.
"A mild concussion and some bruises," she answers. "They're reluctant to let me go home because there's no one to keep an eye on me, and I need to be watched for the next 24 - 48 hours, just to be on the safe side."
"Would you rather be at home?" he asks.
"Much rather," she answers. "But it's not an option. My mum's away at the moment."
"What about if I stayed over?" James' manner is tentative since he's not sure how she'll take such a suggestion, but her expression brightens a second time.
"If that wouldn't be too much hassle," she says.
"I wouldn't have suggested it otherwise," he assures her. "I'll need to go home and get an overnight bag first. But if the staff agree to it, I can be back within an hour, I should think."
Alesha slides her hand across the bed and grasps his. "Thanks."
He squeezes her fingers. "You're welcome." He gets to his feet. "Let me go and ask the staff if it's okay."
"Okay."
He hurries back to the nurses' station and finds someone with sufficient authority to agree to his proposal. He's not surprised that they do agree, guessing that they'll be glad of the bed with so many injured people to handle. He goes back to tell Alesha that the staff have agreed she can go home in his care, then hurries downstairs to find a taxi just pulling up to drop off someone else which saves him some time.
Half an hour after they leave the hospital together, they arrive at Alesha's flat and she lets them in.
"Leave your bag there for now," she suggests, nodding to a small table in the hallway.
"Okay." He puts it down, then helps her out of her coat, hanging it and her scarf up on the coat hook she indicates, then hanging his own coat and scarf beside it. She kicks off her shoes, holding his arm to maintain her balance, then he swiftly removes his own.
"I could murder a cup of tea," she says, sounding weary.
"Let me make you one, then," he suggests.
She nods, leading the way into the kitchen, which is decorated in blue and cream, and seems very inviting with its pots of herbs growing on the windowsill, and the dream-catcher in the window above.
She sinks into a chair and tells James where to find mugs, teabags, and teaspoons. He fills the kettle, switches it on, and then gets everything organised before taking a seat beside her.
"How did you know where to find me so fast?" she asks.
"I was lucky," he answers. "I found someone on the spot who was able to give me the information very quickly." He rubs a hand over his face, then decides to tell her everything.
Alesha listens attentively. She seems quite amused by the fact he mistook another woman for her, but blushes when he reveals that he kissed Dr Martha Jones before discovering his mistake.
"Why did you kiss her?" she asks, eyes bright with curiosity.
It's James' turn to blush now. "I thought she was you, and I was so relieved that you - as I thought - were okay. I didn't really think about what I was doing," he admits. "It was an instinctive reaction to seeing that you were safe, as I thought."
"So you'd have kissed me, if it had been me, and not this Dr Jones?" she asks.
He frowns. "Yes. I thought she was you; that's why I kissed her."
"But you didn't kiss me," Alesha says. He looks puzzled, so she elaborates. "It wasn't me you kissed at the ruined pub, and when you did find me, you didn't kiss me."
"Are you jealous?" James asks.
She looks down at her hands. "Just a little bit," she admits.
"Well then," he says.
He lifts her head with his right hand, smiles at her, then leans in to kiss her. His left hand cups her face, but his right holds the back of her head steady. She makes an inarticulate noise of approval and puts her arms around his neck; he'd told her that Martha had described the kiss as a 'toe curler', and Alesha reckons that was an apt description. Not only are her toes curling, but her whole body is tingling with pleasure as his tongue gently explores her mouth, and there's a coil of arousal building in her belly and loins.
"James!" she gasps as she breaks free, needing air before she passes out.
"Alesha," he answers, his voice soft and tender as he leans his forehead against hers.
"That Dr Jones was right," she says.
"Oh?" he enquires, lifting his head so he can look at her.
"Definitely a toe curler," she observes, then smiles when he blushes faintly.
He gets up to make them both a mug of tea now the water's boiled, then they relocate to the sitting room. Alesha snuggles up against him as they settle onto the sofa, and he puts his free arm around her.
"So, Mr Steel, how long have you been harbouring a desire to kiss your assistant?" she asks, sounding amused.
"For a few months now," he admits.
"But you didn't say anything. Why?"
"Well for one thing, you're a good bit younger than me," he says, "so I didn't think you'd be interested. Plus, workplace romances can be tricky enough, and the fact that I'm your boss, not your equal, makes it trickier."
"Do you think George would be cross?" she asks.
"Well - " He pauses, and she lifts her head from its resting place on his shoulder to look at him.
"Well what?" she asks.
"Well, he knows how I feel about you," James answers slowly.
"You told him?" Alesha asks, surprised.
He laughs. "No, he worked it out and told me I should talk to you."
"When was this?"
"You remember when he got so mad about Bea's 'warrior gene' defence, and had a go at you?" he asks. She nods, watching his profile. "Well, I had a go at him about it, when we were talking about the case later. And when I was finished, he said something about you being too good for me, but he didn't doubt that you'd be fool enough to have me if I bothered to tell you how I felt."
"And what did you say?"
He looks around at her and sees intense curiosity in her eyes. "I didn't say anything very coherent," he admits. "I was much too surprised and flustered."
It's her turn to laugh now. "That I would've enjoyed seeing," she says, teasingly. "Mr James Steel, who's always got it together, totally flustered would be a sight to see."
He attempts to glower at her, but it's obvious his heart's not in it, and after a moment he sets down his mug of tea, then takes Alesha's from her, before pulling her close and indulging in a lengthy kiss.
"It's just as well you don't use that argument to silence your opponents in court," she says, laughing when he finally releases her and hands her the cooling cup of tea.
"I wouldn't dream of using that 'argument', as you call it, on anyone else," he tells her in as dignified a manner as he can manage.
"Just as well," she says, running her free hand up his thigh, then smirking when he coughs in surprise at her boldness. When she cups him, rubbing gently at his growing arousal, he starts, and she looks up at him with desire in her eyes.
"I was going to ask if you're sure about this," he says, "but I can see that's a futile question."
She leans in closer to whisper in his ear. "I've fancied you since the first day I met you."
"You have?" he asks doubtfully.
"Oh yes. I just didn't think you'd ever reciprocate my feelings, so I kept quiet about it."
"So what do you want to do about this?" asks James.
Alesha raises an eyebrow at him. "I would've thought it was obvious," she says, "and your body seems to agree."
"I didn't want to take anything for granted," he says.
"You're such a gentleman," she replies, smiling. She gets to her feet, then holds out her hand to him, and he smiles as he gets up, then takes her hand and allows her to lead him to her bedroom which is sea-green and honey-gold in its colour scheme.
They stand by the bed and undress each other slowly, James lightly caressing each of her bruises. "You sure you're fit enough for this?" he asks, sounding concerned.
"So long as we take it slowly," she answers. "We'll have to save swinging from the chandelier for another time."
He gives her a startled look, then glances up at the perfectly ordinary light fitting in the middle of the ceiling, and Alesha bursts out laughing.
"I didn't mean literally," she says.
"Just checking," he answers, grinning.
"Come to bed." She tugs on his arm, and they settle onto the bed, lying facing each other. "What are you thinking?" she asks, seeing his thoughtful expression.
"That I should look up Martha Jones and thank her."
She laughs softly. "Thank her from both of us, but no kissing her next time."
He smirks. "Very well." He wraps an arm around her and kisses her instead.
* * * * * *
Some way across town Dr Jones is in her lab at UNIT HQ; she's finishing an autopsy on the alien responsible for blowing up one of London's pubs, and wondering whether she should ring Jack to come and take a look at the technology they found in the rubble.
As she straightens up and peels off her latex gloves, Martha also wonders whether to look up James Steel of the CPS to ask him if he's talked to Alesha Phillips yet, then decides that it's really none of her business, even if he is a very good kisser. She can't help hoping that he did - the idea that somewhere in London her double is enjoying his toe-curling kisses is a pleasing one.
Title: Danger and Safety
Author: Persiflage_1
Characters/Pairings: Martha Jones, Alesha Phillips/James Steel (Law & Order: UK x-over)
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Assumes you've seen DW S4 and Law & Order: UK up to 1.04
Summary: A case of mistaken identity embarrasses James Steel.
Disclaimer: ITV owns Law & Order: UK. The BBC owns Doctor Who. I got nothin' except too many plot bunnies!
Author Notes: Blame lost_spook for this little plot bunny - she wanted confused!James meeting Martha! This fic is AU for Law & Order: UK, insofar as the on-screen dating in 1.07 insists that events early in "Alesha" took place while events in "Unsafe" were unfolding. I don't need that kind of complication, so I'm ignoring 1.07 again.
Beta: fourzoas the kindly
~~~~~~
Dr Martha Jones scrambles over the last bit of rubble and stumbles onto the road, only to have her shoulders seized from behind moments later by a strong pair of hands. She is spun around and catches a brief glimpse of a tall, blond-haired man with intense blue eyes, before he ducks his head and kisses her hard on the mouth. If she hadn't been breathless with surprise, she rather thinks the kiss would have done the job. Certainly her knees feel a bit weak, and she is quite glad this man is holding her so firmly, although she's also rather amazed to be kissed so intensely by a complete stranger.
"Thank god you're okay," he says, evidently very relieved, after he finally releases her.
"I'm sorry, but do I know you?" she asks.
"Did you hit your head when the bomb went off? I should get a doctor to look at you; you might have concussion," he says, anxiety plain in his voice.
Martha pulls away from him, then crosses her arms over her chest. "I am a doctor," she answers, unsure whether to be amused or concerned.
"No, you're not," he says, taking her arm and beginning to guide her towards the crowd of paramedics and ambulances. "You're a Crown Prosecutor."
Martha digs in her heels and pulls free of him again. "I. Am. A. Doctor," she says, spacing the words out and glaring at him. "Are you sure you're not the one who's concussed?"
He frowns down at her. "Me? I've just come from visiting the Ackroyds' grave. I told you that was where I was going after I'd been to see Slade at the Major Investigations Unit." He rubs a hand over his face and Martha can't help the inconsequential thought that his hands look strong.
"Who do you think I am?" she asks.
His frown deepens, and she notices that he's rather attractive, even when frowning. "Alesha Phillips, a Crown Prosecutor, and my right-hand woman," he answers. "Who do you think you are?"
She laughs. "I know who I am," she answers. "I'm Dr Martha Jones, and I work for UNIT, not the CPS."
He shakes his head. "No, that's not right." He reaches out and clasps her upper arm again. "I really think you need to let someone check your head."
"I can prove that I'm not this Alesha," Martha says and digs inside her jacket for her ID badge, pulling it free and holding it out to him. "See? Dr M Jones, UNIT MD," she reads aloud.
"But you look just like Alesha," he persists.
She makes an odd noise in the back of her throat, and he looks down at her, puzzled. "Identical cousins are one thing, but doppelgangers are something else," she says cryptically.
"What?" he asks.
"Who are you?" Martha asks. "Besides this Alesha's boss."
His frown returns. "I'm James Steel, chief London Prosecutor for the CPS," he answers. "Are you really not Alesha?" He's looking anxious now and faintly embarrassed, which isn't surprising given the intensity of the kiss he'd given her.
"I'm really not," she answers gently.
"Oh god!" He flushes, his embarrassment obvious now. "I'm really sorry I kissed you," he says. "I thought you were Alesha, and I was so relieved she was safe that I didn't really think about what I was doing. And if you're not Alesha, where is she?" He swallows and looks back at the rubble, all that remains of the pub where he'd arranged to meet Alesha after she'd finished work. "Is she dead?"
Martha grabs his arm as he starts back the way they came. "You can't go back there," she says urgently. "It's not safe."
"But I have to find her," James says just as urgently, trying to pull away and feeling slightly surprised to realise that she's stronger than he expects.
"Nevertheless, you can't go into that ruin," Martha says more insistently as she moves in front of him and pushes at his chest. "Why don't you ring this Alesha? She might not have been in the building when it blew up."
He digs frantically in his pockets, pulling a mobile phone from the inside pocket of his dark blue pinstripe suit. Martha steps back a little to give him some privacy, but keeps a wary eye on him.
"She's not answering," James says after a couple of minutes, anguish in his tone and expression.
"Let's not panic just yet, okay?" she suggests, taking hold of his elbow and leading him towards the ambulances that are parked at a safe distance from the collapsed building. "I know one of the civilians has been taking the names of everyone who has been taken to a hospital, if we've been able to ID them. Your Alesha might have been taken in already, so let's find out."
He nods numbly and stands staring back at the ruins while Martha talks to a young man in a black uniform and a red beret, and a woman paramedic. After a few minutes she touches his arm, and he looks around to see her smiling at him.
"Apparently one of the ambulances took a young woman named Alesha Phillips to the Royal Hope Hospital," she says. "Come on. I'll drive you there."
"Didn't anyone comment on the fact she looked like you?" asks James curiously as he follows Martha down the street to a small red car.
"No. I wasn't here. I was off-duty when this kicked off and by the time my UNIT colleagues had arrived she'd already been taken to hospital. And I arrived after they did, so anyone who would've noticed she looked like me didn't see her."
He nods, then carefully folds himself into the front seat.
"Sorry, do you want to get a taxi instead?" Martha asks, realising he must be uncomfortable.
"No - I just want to find Alesha," he answers. "What did you mean earlier, when you said 'Identical cousins are one thing, but doppelgangers are something else'?"
She glances sideways at him. "I had a cousin, Adeola, who could have been my identical twin."
"I'm sorry," he says, sounding sincere.
"It's okay." She's impressed that he has sussed out that Adeola is dead, then reminds herself that he's a barrister and therefore trained to be observant. "Tell me about Alesha," she invites.
"She's brilliant," James answers fervently. "Smart, strong, determined, compassionate, and very hard-working. I honestly couldn't manage without her."
"And does she know how you feel about her?" asks Martha.
He gives her a sharp look. "What do you mean?"
"James, you kissed me when you thought I was her. And we're not talking about a little peck on the cheek. That was a real toe-curler." She feels her face heat up at this admission and hopes that he won't notice, then she sees that he's blushing and immediately feels better.
"I - uh - " he stutters. "I shouldn't have done that."
"Is it actually against CPS rules for employees to have interpersonal relationships?" she asks.
"I've no idea," he answers. "It's never been an issue for me before. I'm just not sure it's very ethical."
Martha is tempted to say 'Bugger ethics', but she bites back the comment. "I just think that if you care about her as much as that kiss implied, you should say something to her." She pulls up in the short-stay car park outside the hospital.
"Thank you for the lift," he says, "and for not slapping me when I kissed you."
She smiles, then leans over to kiss his cheek. "Take care of yourself, and your Alesha, James Steel."
"And you." He clambers out of the car, then waves as she pulls away, before gathering his coat around himself and heading inside.
* * * * * *
After fifteen minutes of waiting and hassling people, James is finally allowed in to see Alesha. She's lying in a bed, looking more fragile than he's ever seen her, but her expression brightens when she spots him approaching.
"Hello," he says softly, taking a seat at her bedside.
"Hey."
"What's the damage?" he asks.
"A mild concussion and some bruises," she answers. "They're reluctant to let me go home because there's no one to keep an eye on me, and I need to be watched for the next 24 - 48 hours, just to be on the safe side."
"Would you rather be at home?" he asks.
"Much rather," she answers. "But it's not an option. My mum's away at the moment."
"What about if I stayed over?" James' manner is tentative since he's not sure how she'll take such a suggestion, but her expression brightens a second time.
"If that wouldn't be too much hassle," she says.
"I wouldn't have suggested it otherwise," he assures her. "I'll need to go home and get an overnight bag first. But if the staff agree to it, I can be back within an hour, I should think."
Alesha slides her hand across the bed and grasps his. "Thanks."
He squeezes her fingers. "You're welcome." He gets to his feet. "Let me go and ask the staff if it's okay."
"Okay."
He hurries back to the nurses' station and finds someone with sufficient authority to agree to his proposal. He's not surprised that they do agree, guessing that they'll be glad of the bed with so many injured people to handle. He goes back to tell Alesha that the staff have agreed she can go home in his care, then hurries downstairs to find a taxi just pulling up to drop off someone else which saves him some time.
Half an hour after they leave the hospital together, they arrive at Alesha's flat and she lets them in.
"Leave your bag there for now," she suggests, nodding to a small table in the hallway.
"Okay." He puts it down, then helps her out of her coat, hanging it and her scarf up on the coat hook she indicates, then hanging his own coat and scarf beside it. She kicks off her shoes, holding his arm to maintain her balance, then he swiftly removes his own.
"I could murder a cup of tea," she says, sounding weary.
"Let me make you one, then," he suggests.
She nods, leading the way into the kitchen, which is decorated in blue and cream, and seems very inviting with its pots of herbs growing on the windowsill, and the dream-catcher in the window above.
She sinks into a chair and tells James where to find mugs, teabags, and teaspoons. He fills the kettle, switches it on, and then gets everything organised before taking a seat beside her.
"How did you know where to find me so fast?" she asks.
"I was lucky," he answers. "I found someone on the spot who was able to give me the information very quickly." He rubs a hand over his face, then decides to tell her everything.
Alesha listens attentively. She seems quite amused by the fact he mistook another woman for her, but blushes when he reveals that he kissed Dr Martha Jones before discovering his mistake.
"Why did you kiss her?" she asks, eyes bright with curiosity.
It's James' turn to blush now. "I thought she was you, and I was so relieved that you - as I thought - were okay. I didn't really think about what I was doing," he admits. "It was an instinctive reaction to seeing that you were safe, as I thought."
"So you'd have kissed me, if it had been me, and not this Dr Jones?" she asks.
He frowns. "Yes. I thought she was you; that's why I kissed her."
"But you didn't kiss me," Alesha says. He looks puzzled, so she elaborates. "It wasn't me you kissed at the ruined pub, and when you did find me, you didn't kiss me."
"Are you jealous?" James asks.
She looks down at her hands. "Just a little bit," she admits.
"Well then," he says.
He lifts her head with his right hand, smiles at her, then leans in to kiss her. His left hand cups her face, but his right holds the back of her head steady. She makes an inarticulate noise of approval and puts her arms around his neck; he'd told her that Martha had described the kiss as a 'toe curler', and Alesha reckons that was an apt description. Not only are her toes curling, but her whole body is tingling with pleasure as his tongue gently explores her mouth, and there's a coil of arousal building in her belly and loins.
"James!" she gasps as she breaks free, needing air before she passes out.
"Alesha," he answers, his voice soft and tender as he leans his forehead against hers.
"That Dr Jones was right," she says.
"Oh?" he enquires, lifting his head so he can look at her.
"Definitely a toe curler," she observes, then smiles when he blushes faintly.
He gets up to make them both a mug of tea now the water's boiled, then they relocate to the sitting room. Alesha snuggles up against him as they settle onto the sofa, and he puts his free arm around her.
"So, Mr Steel, how long have you been harbouring a desire to kiss your assistant?" she asks, sounding amused.
"For a few months now," he admits.
"But you didn't say anything. Why?"
"Well for one thing, you're a good bit younger than me," he says, "so I didn't think you'd be interested. Plus, workplace romances can be tricky enough, and the fact that I'm your boss, not your equal, makes it trickier."
"Do you think George would be cross?" she asks.
"Well - " He pauses, and she lifts her head from its resting place on his shoulder to look at him.
"Well what?" she asks.
"Well, he knows how I feel about you," James answers slowly.
"You told him?" Alesha asks, surprised.
He laughs. "No, he worked it out and told me I should talk to you."
"When was this?"
"You remember when he got so mad about Bea's 'warrior gene' defence, and had a go at you?" he asks. She nods, watching his profile. "Well, I had a go at him about it, when we were talking about the case later. And when I was finished, he said something about you being too good for me, but he didn't doubt that you'd be fool enough to have me if I bothered to tell you how I felt."
"And what did you say?"
He looks around at her and sees intense curiosity in her eyes. "I didn't say anything very coherent," he admits. "I was much too surprised and flustered."
It's her turn to laugh now. "That I would've enjoyed seeing," she says, teasingly. "Mr James Steel, who's always got it together, totally flustered would be a sight to see."
He attempts to glower at her, but it's obvious his heart's not in it, and after a moment he sets down his mug of tea, then takes Alesha's from her, before pulling her close and indulging in a lengthy kiss.
"It's just as well you don't use that argument to silence your opponents in court," she says, laughing when he finally releases her and hands her the cooling cup of tea.
"I wouldn't dream of using that 'argument', as you call it, on anyone else," he tells her in as dignified a manner as he can manage.
"Just as well," she says, running her free hand up his thigh, then smirking when he coughs in surprise at her boldness. When she cups him, rubbing gently at his growing arousal, he starts, and she looks up at him with desire in her eyes.
"I was going to ask if you're sure about this," he says, "but I can see that's a futile question."
She leans in closer to whisper in his ear. "I've fancied you since the first day I met you."
"You have?" he asks doubtfully.
"Oh yes. I just didn't think you'd ever reciprocate my feelings, so I kept quiet about it."
"So what do you want to do about this?" asks James.
Alesha raises an eyebrow at him. "I would've thought it was obvious," she says, "and your body seems to agree."
"I didn't want to take anything for granted," he says.
"You're such a gentleman," she replies, smiling. She gets to her feet, then holds out her hand to him, and he smiles as he gets up, then takes her hand and allows her to lead him to her bedroom which is sea-green and honey-gold in its colour scheme.
They stand by the bed and undress each other slowly, James lightly caressing each of her bruises. "You sure you're fit enough for this?" he asks, sounding concerned.
"So long as we take it slowly," she answers. "We'll have to save swinging from the chandelier for another time."
He gives her a startled look, then glances up at the perfectly ordinary light fitting in the middle of the ceiling, and Alesha bursts out laughing.
"I didn't mean literally," she says.
"Just checking," he answers, grinning.
"Come to bed." She tugs on his arm, and they settle onto the bed, lying facing each other. "What are you thinking?" she asks, seeing his thoughtful expression.
"That I should look up Martha Jones and thank her."
She laughs softly. "Thank her from both of us, but no kissing her next time."
He smirks. "Very well." He wraps an arm around her and kisses her instead.
* * * * * *
Some way across town Dr Jones is in her lab at UNIT HQ; she's finishing an autopsy on the alien responsible for blowing up one of London's pubs, and wondering whether she should ring Jack to come and take a look at the technology they found in the rubble.
As she straightens up and peels off her latex gloves, Martha also wonders whether to look up James Steel of the CPS to ask him if he's talked to Alesha Phillips yet, then decides that it's really none of her business, even if he is a very good kisser. She can't help hoping that he did - the idea that somewhere in London her double is enjoying his toe-curling kisses is a pleasing one.