Chapter Text
Tom had always considered himself reasonably clumsy.
Not catastrophically so. He occasionally walked into doorframes. Misjudged the final steps on staircases. Knocked pens off desks. Nothing life-changing.
Then he met Mary Bennet.
Suddenly, every limb of his body seemed to malfunction and lag at different times, operating independently from each other. Tom wasn't entirely convinced the universe wasn't trying to tell him something.
The weeks following the Hot Matcha Incident settled into something neither of them expected. Nothing dramatically different. Just quieter. More comfortable. Mary no longer sprinted in the opposite direction whenever she saw him approaching down a corridor. Tom no longer had to wonder whether she'd dive behind the nearest office plant if he glanced in her direction. Instead, there were smiles. Small smiles across meeting rooms. Quiet good mornings in corridors and exchanged looks that lingered for half a second too long before both people looked away. Morning greetings slowly replaced awkward nods.
"Good morning, Mary."
"Morning, Tom."
"How's your day looking?"
"Manageable. You?"
Tom would glance mournfully towards whichever meeting room he was headed for.
"Three meetings before lunch."
"My condolences."
Yet somehow, Tom found himself looking forward to those tiny conversations far more than he cared to admit.
-
One Tuesday morning, Mary was doing a tea round for her department when Tom wandered into the kitchen carrying an empty mug. Both smiled before she looked away. She was concentrating very hard. Not because tea required particular focus, but because this was the first time they had found themselves properly alone together: no corridors, no passing conversations, no audience. Just the two of them. Mary willed her heart to calm down, mentally repeating the drinks orders to herself to prevent her from thinking about the very attractive journalist currently standing less than two metres away.
Tom watched her quietly for a moment before rubbing the back of his neck.
"Oh."
Mary looked up and stopped pouring the hot water.
"I actually wanted to say something."
"Okay?"
"I'm really sorry. For the coffee run thing." he gave an awkward little laugh, "I realise I have never apologised properly."
"Thank you, for the apology. But, it's okay, it was an accident." Mary grinned, putting a tea bag into one of the cups, "I think anyone who's spent longer than fifteen minutes watching you exist knows none of it was intentional."
Tom barked out an honest, surprised laugh.
"It was almost impressively accidental."
"I thought so too." Tom continues, "How's the ankle?"
"Barely recovered but she'll manage."
They shared another smile. Silence settled in the room. Tom stared at the kettle before leaning lightly against the counter next to Mary, who was trying really hard not to fawn over the tensing forearms in her periphery.
"So..." Tom started, "How are you finding it here?"
"I'm really liking it. I'm learning a lot."
"I'm glad." Tom stared at the intern, a teasing grin beginning on his face, "I've noticed you've started taking the lifts again."
Mary froze before looking at him.
"You noticed that?"
"I noticed a lot of things." Tom leaned slightly towards Mary, "Mostly because I couldn't work out why someone would voluntarily choose fifteen flights of stairs every day. Then the plants came into the equation and-"
"You noticed the plants?"
"I noticed the plants."
Mary winced and dropped her head, the steam of the hot water fogging up her glasses. Tom watched with unknowing endearment.
Tom laughed with genuine warmth. Not at her but at the situation.
"I've never been so embarrassed before."
"Don't be." Tom leaned down a bit, trying to catch Mary's eyes again, "No judgement here. I just assumed you really hated me or really scared that there would be a repeat of my sliding kick."
"I was scared," Mary looked up again sincerely, "But, I was mostly... nervous."
"Nervous? What, of me?" Tom tilted his head.
"Yes."
He looked genuinely bewildered, "Why?"
"I was already mortified with the coffee run incident." Mary stirred a cup, "But it was worse because it was you. I've followed your work for years."
"You have?"
Mary nodded.
"I studied journalism so I read quite a bit of your work, probably most of what you've published."
He smiled in complete disbelief.
"I've made this weird again." Mary commented.
"A little." Tom smiled at Mary's facial expression, "But, in a nice way. Thank you."
Tom seemed deep in thought, processing the green lanyard, processing the image of her reading his articles, processing her stood besides him.
"For what it's worth, it explains a lot." Tom said, trying to ignore the effect the pair of green eyes had on him, "You always looked terrified. I thought I was being intimidating."
"You are. Intimidating."
"I am?"
"A little."
"But, I've tripped over in front of you."
"I know."
"And I accidentally tackled you."
"My ankle remembers."
"You've heard stories of me slipping in dog poo."
"Yes."
"So how exactly have I remained intimidating?"
Mary looked at him for a second.
"You've done all of those things while also being Thomas Hayward."
Tom blinked.
"I don't know what that means."
"Neither do I."
Both laughed. Another comfortable silence settled between them, neither particularly eager to break it. Unfortunately, someone else did.
"Mary!" Will appeared in the doorway.
The intruder stopped and looked at Mary. Then at Tom and then back to Mary. His grin widened by several dangerous degrees.
"Hayward."
"Ryder."
"I've come to assist with the tea!"
Mary looked down at the two crowded trays waiting to be carried back.
"Yes, thank you Will." Mary agreed, giving Tom a polite smile, "That would be great."
Will immediately picked up one tray.
"My pleasure."
Tom instinctively reached for the other.
"I can help to-"
"Absolutely not Hayward."
Tom stopped. The other looked at him with complete seriousness and pointed a finger at him.
"I'm not risking another incident."
"I've learnt from my mistakes." Tom sighed.
"Have you?" Will asked not entirely convinced.
"No."
"Didn't think so."
Mary laughed. Tom looked over instinctively, smiling the second he heard it. Will pointed towards the opposite corner of the kitchen.
"Go stand over there. In the corner."
"What?" Tom frowned.
Tom looked at Mary for support; she tried very hard to look neutral.
"Perhaps it is for the best Tom." Mary said carefully, "Will has a point."
"You're taking his side?"
"I am."
"A betrayal."
"Ah, but a necessary one."
Tom placed a hand dramatically over his heart before slowly shuffling towards the far corner of the kitchen, shoulders theatrically slumped with misery. He stood facing the wall for a moment. Then looked back over one shoulder.
"Am I allowed out when you've left?"
Will nodded.
"Yes, you've earned it for good behaviour."
Mary laughed again. Tom decided, not for the first time, that he would happily spend the rest of his career being the punchline if it meant hearing that laugh.
As Mary followed Will out of the kitchen, balancing her tray of drinks, she glanced back over her shoulder. Tom was still standing in the corner exactly where he'd been told, wearing the most exaggeratedly tragic expression she'd ever seen. He caught her looking.
Mary smiled. Not the nervous one she'd spent weeks trying to suppress. A real one. Tom smiled back. It lasted no more than a second before both of them looked away.
Neither noticed that Will, walking several steps ahead, looked suspiciously pleased with himself. Nor did they notice Ann passing the kitchen doorway at that exact moment, taking one look inside before quietly continuing on her way with the satisfied expression.
A change in the air between them was noted.
-
Wednesday's editorial meeting had been proceeding remarkably normally. Which, in hindsight, should have worried everyone. Mary sat towards the end of the conference table, quietly taking notes while Caroline Bingley discussed deadlines.
Halfway through the meeting Tom reached for the television remote, purely to mess about with it. Only instead of picking it up, he somehow managed to flick it. Nobody quite understood how. Least of all Tom. The remote launched off the table with surprising elegance before bouncing off the wall with a loud cracking noise.
Silence.
Tom stared at the remote. The remote stared back.
Very, very slowly, Tom bent down to retrieve it, moving with the cautious deliberateness of someone who believed reduced speed somehow equated to reduced visibility: it did not. If anything, every pair of eyes in the room became even more focused on him. He picked it up. Turned it over. Noticed the battery cover had cracked clean across the middle. Placed it carefully back onto the table exactly where it had been. Then looked back towards the presentation with complete sincerity, his fist placed thoughtfully under his chin, as though nothing whatsoever had occurred.
Caroline watched the entire performance without saying a word.
"...As I was saying," she continued.
Mary happened to look up at precisely that moment. Tom caught her eye and gave the tiniest shake of his head. Mary immediately looked back down at her laptop, biting the inside of her cheek so hard it almost hurt. For the next twenty minutes, one of them would accidentally glance at the other. Which only made it worse. By the end of the meeting, Tom was silently laughing into his notebook. Mary wasn't doing much better.
Mary escaped into the corridor first. Mostly because if she'd remained in that room another thirty seconds she would have laughed out loud. The water cooler stood outside the kitchen entrance. Mary busied herself about to fill her floral water bottle, smiling at the thought of Tom's frazzled and hopeless face at the moment of impact.
"You know..." Tom's voice appeared behind her, "...that was one of the more unfortunate things I've done this year."
Mary looked over her shoulder. Tom wandered over, hands buried inside his pockets, looking unfairly attractive for somebody who had just accidentally launched an electronic projectile across a conference room during a very serious meeting. The sleeves of shirt were rolled messily to his elbows again.
"I believe," she said carefully, screwing the lid off her bottle, "it comfortably makes the Top Five."
"Oh?"
"The coffee run incident."
"Fair."
"The matcha."
"...Very fair."
"The toilet seat."
"How do you know about that?" Tom looked genuinely alarmed.
"Oh, the entire office knows about that."
He sighed dramatically.
"My legacy is in ruins."
Mary smiled despite herself.
"I think your reputation survived."
"My dignity didn't."
"No." She nodded with feigned seriousness, "I don't believe it did."
Tom laughed. There was something strangely easy about talking to him now. Mary had expected awkwardness or great effort. Instead, conversation simply continued.
"How's your week been?" Tom asked, leaning lightly against the base of the water cooler.
Mary considered it.
"Better now that remote thing has happened."
He laughed, "I walked into that one."
"You did."
"I've accepted that things like this are fated to happen to me."
Mary tilted her head. "Were you always like this?"
"Oh, since childhood." Tom smiled to himself, "My poor mother stopped buying glass Christmas decorations because I'd break at least two every December."
Mary laughed. Tom continued.
"I once managed to bust my sister's nose during a game of Just Dance."
"That's impressive."
"It was one of the slow ones."
Both chuckled, looking at the water filling up the bottle. When it was full, neither made a move to leave.
"I was the same..." Mary smiled into her water bottle, "My mum used to remind me of it a lot."
Tom looked at her.
"She always called me awkward, ungainly." The words escaped more quietly and more sadly than she'd intended.
The smile slipped from Tom's face. Not dramatically. Just enough.
"I'm sorry."
Mary shrugged lightly, "It wasn't exactly malicious"
"No." He shook his head. "I mean, I'm sorry someone made you feel like that."
There wasn't pity in his voice. Just sincerity. Mary wasn't entirely sure what to do with sincerity. She looked down at the water bottle.
Tom spoke again.
"You know. I've decided ungainly people are significantly more interesting." Tom's smile slowly returned and began counting on his fingers, "We're adaptable. Resilient. Memorable. Make people feel better about themselves"
"I don't think that's a compliment." Mary exhaled, amusement dancing across her face.
"It wasn't meant to be."
Both smiled.
"And the disadvantages?" Mary asked curiously.
Tom didn't even hesitate.
"The food."
"The food?"
Tom shuddered, "Oh come on, spaghetti? Hot soup? Tragedy waiting to happen. Don't get me started on ramen."
"It's the splash radius." Mary added.
"And the noodles."
"And the noodles."
Mary smiled, "I do love ramen though."
Tom looked at her, a tiny opportunity quietly presenting itself. His heart immediately began beating just a little faster.
"Oh." He smiled.
He shifted his weight slightly, resting his elbow casually against the water cooler like someone had leaned against water coolers hundreds of times before.
"I actually know this little place a few streets over that does a great-"
There was a loud crack. The water cooler immediately betraying him. Tom had approximately half a second to think. That doesn't sound great.
The entire bottle lurched sideways. Then gravity took over and the container slid off the stand. Tom instinctively grabbed it. Which was an excellent idea had catching it not tipped the entire container directly towards himself. A tidal wave of freezing water exploded over him.
For a moment, nobody moved.
The man stood frozen, desperately clutching the enormous bottle while water continued chugging and pouring relentlessly over his hair, down his face and straight through his shirt. He let the bottle plop on the floor, water rushed across the corridor into the kitchen. Tom blinked through the waterfall of the residual water from his hair with the most utterly defeated expression she had ever seen.
Mary slapped both hands over her mouth. She genuinely tried. She really did. But one snort escaped. Then another before she completely lost it.
Across the newsroom, conversations stopped. Heads turned. Nobody spoke.
Tom slowly looked around the office. Dripping. His wet curly hair plastered to his forehead and his shirt clung completely towards him.
From somewhere down the corridor, Will's voice sounded out.
"...Is that-?""
Then laughter.
Ann appeared beside him. She took one look at Tom and instantly bent down in laughter.
Hurst arrived several seconds later with his grey Stanley Cup and surveyed the scene. Water. Floor. Tom. Water cooler. After a long pause and the realisation he will have to drink tap water instead, Hurst nodded thoughtfully.
"...Tom."
Tom closed his eyes.
"...Yes?"
"I think the water goes..." Hurst gestured towards the dispenser. "...inside the cooler."
Will actually had to lean against the wall. Ann disappeared entirely behind reception because she physically couldn't stand up from laughing.
Tom looked back at Hurst and then he turned back to Mary. Water was still dripping from his fringe. His shirt was completely transparent. He smiled sheepishly.
"I think..." He looked down at himself. "...I'm going to go and have a little lie down in the sun. You know, dry off."
"I think that's probably wise."
Tom looked back up at Mary. She was still laughing, eyes almost watering. He couldn't even be embarrassed anymore. As Tom walked away, squelching slightly with every step, Mary watched him disappear down the corridor. Then, entirely on accident, she noticed the soaked shirt clinging rather unfairly well to him.
Mary blinked. Immediately looked away. Then looked back. Very briefly.
When she looked away, she caught eyes with Ann, who raised one knowing eyebrow.
Mary felt heat rush to her face.