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Julia Montague was beyond any meaning of the word, having the worst week of her life.
Looking at her present company, she assumed his wasn’t feeling any better.
It has been approximately 20 hours since she crouched in the backseat of her car and thought, spurred on by an increasing level of panic over the 12 minutes from when the first bullet hit until Kim had ushered her to a new car, that it would where she’d spend her last moment on earth.
Only 14 hours since she kissed and then had sex with the man currently sitting to her left. 14 hours since she'd sat quietly in the bathroom as he left her hotel bed without a word, full of some type of regret she couldn’t define yet. And now they were here. Stuck in a lift for the past 20 minutes and looking at least at the next 20 too.
David’s eyes seem to be stuck to the floor. If he ever looks up, it’s to the side - never directly at her. There’s a certain level of irony to that, considering his job position. But he’s avoided looking at her this whole time, and it’s feeling, if she’s honest, a little unsettling. Occasionally, it seems like he’s on the verge of saying something, but instead he looks away, and then goes back to staring at his shoes again. They’re nice shoes, the same ones he always wears, but she’s not sure he’s looking at them because he wants to.
Oh, there go his eyes again, looking at her with a certain level of apprehension.
“We might be stuck here for some time, Ma’am. They’ll be on high alert after...” David’s voice trails off just as he began to offer a weak attempt at explaining it. Again. She likes it though, that he bothers trying to assure her. She’d always hated Roger’s over-explaining ways. Though Roger’s eyes would never soften the way David’s just did. Nor did his voice ever sound comforting and not patronizing. But David’s a good man, she thinks.
She’s just never enjoyed small spaces. That’s definitely not going to change after yesterday’s event.
“The shooting. You can say it. I won’t fall apart just because you say the words out loud, Sergeant Budd.” Julia says cooly... but she doesn't even believe herself. Shit, she’s an awful liar.
The truth is, she feels like breaking. Every part of her is a hollow memory of who she was 21 hours ago and filled to the brim with venom. All at the same time. The hairs on her arms and neck will stand up at the slightest sound, her throat and chest feel like someone has been standing on it.
She’d barely slept after he left. Pulled herself out of bed the fifth time she’d woken up and tried to give herself a pathetic attempt at a pep talk in the unfamiliar bathroom mirror at the Blackwood Hotel. Somewhat successfully she’d managed to pretend she was ok. She got better at it as the day went on. Better at hiding it, even if that slight feeling of walking onto land after a boat ride only increased and her whole being begged for a break from all the noise around her. Useless fucking noise.
Until now. Stuck in an elevator where it is, at least, quiet.
“You can call me David. At least when we’re alone. Especially after...” His voice veers off again, but despite his regular stoic demeanor, David seems okay.
Julia didn’t know him well. She knew him intimately. Could recall in very specific detail the memory of his blues of his eyes and the softness of his lips and the way he hummed into her ear and wrapped his rough fingers around hers. Knew he was ticklish from the brief smile when her fingers had ghosted across his abdomen. But she didn’t know him well. And that? That made her feel another kind of empty. She probably shouldn’t want to know him either. His face greeting her outside her door this morning shouldn’t have been the first thing to make her feel like she could actually make it through the day without screaming.
Though there was something she’d noticed about David Budd from the start, that she hadn’t been able to put a word to until this morning. A certain nervous tension about him, a vulnerability that didn’t add up with the firm stance and the circumspect face and stony demeanor. She’d had several legal clients years ago that struggled with PTSD but they didn’t hide it nearly as well as David did. Or perhaps she just felt a connection with him now, perhaps she just knew him a little better. Could see things clearer because... Well, it didn’t matter, because she could see it now.
She felt safe in the backseat of the car as they drove away from Pascoe House. After he’d saved her life with what seemed like instinctual precision. Maybe there was a bit of luck too, and some of it was an anxious blur, but he’d protected her beyond what anyone could have expected. And yet there were moments. Something in his eyes as they met hers while the whole world stood still around them. The way his hand shook a little as it reached for hers while she screamed and tried to wake herself from the nightmare she found herself in. Or maybe it was her own instinct. Maybe she paid a little too much attention to him.
She should have probably reported him the second she put the pieces together, but selfishly it made her feel close to him. Connected to something, to somebody, in all this fog. And perhaps that’s why she’d so easily fallen into bed with him last night. Why she’d held onto him as she felt her heart beating in her ears, even though she knew every reason they shouldn’t and couldn’t... Maybe recognizing a small part of herself is why she had so desperately wanted his arms around her. Or maybe it was just the lust, a need to be touched and held. She'd grabbed on and not cared why.
“David...” She takes a deep breath for confidence, because the total silence isn’t comforting anymore. She leans against the next wall over and lets her body slide down against the blank silver until she reaches the floor. His eyes follow her, only looking away when she meets them and even then she can tell he’s looking at her in the reflection. “I’m sorry about last night.”
His eyes search hers. She isn’t sure what for exactly, what she could possibly give him now, though she could probably guess he might be looking for her assurance. And she has none left at the moment for him to find. She’s not even sure how sorry she actually is for their... misstep, but it felt like she should say those words out loud in case he needed to hear them. In case he regrets it and hates her a little more this morning.
“People have sex. It happens.” David shrugs and his mouth curls just so, just a bit. Enough to know that they’re ok. Their relationship up until now has been fraught to say the least. Two steps forward, and then another few back. Yet, there are times she could swear they were slowly moving towards some level of familiarity. Respect, maybe.
And they fall silent.
“Never thought I’d be having it with you.” He adds after a while, a bit cooly. And he can tell that what he’s said has perked her interest. She’s doing that thing where she tries to mentally push you off a cliff. Or, at least that’s what David’s been imagining she’s doing, whenever she stares someone down the way she is him now. Usually it’s to some poor sod in the office, probably trying to decide whether they’re generally useless or have just accidentally cocked up.
“Because I’m…” Hideous? Grotesque? The worst person he could ever imagine going to bed with?
She leaves the question hanging in the air and looks up at him with worried curiosity, silently begging him not to make their confined situation more torturous than it has to be.
“A politician.” Not to mention, technically my superior. He tries to never let his face betray him, to never let on that he actually feels a little nervous here, talking to her like this. Because David Budd is not someone who talks a lot. His job is to watch. Just to watch. He doesn’t need to talk.
Julia cocks her head, eyes rolling back into her head a bit while she smirks. “A Tory. You vote left, don’t you?”
“What gave it away?” He responds sarcastically and she smiles to herself instead, head tilted and eyes fall to the floor. They both knew the answer to that. He hadn’t been too subtle that first night in her flat.
“I didn’t mind, you know. I prefer people have an opinion, even if it’s wrong.” David can’t stop the slight chuckle that escapes and nods his head as Julia takes a deep breath. Guess he can add ‘unexpectedly funny’ to the list of things he’s learning about Julia Montague this week. In addition to ‘skin like silk’ and ‘likes to nibble on your lip’. Not to mention the things she’d done with her…
Julia clears her throat as she runs a hand through her hair and a smile runs across her lips. David watches, a little distracted, but he’s got nowhere else to look, really. Wherever he looks in here, there she is, in some shape or form.
Truth be told, Julia hadn’t minded. What she did mind, was how that day ended. If only because she’d been disappointed in how their little step forward… an apprehensive but mutual attempt at opening up had been ruined because she couldn’t hold her sharp tongue for once. It wasn’t all her fault. He clearly didn’t have the ability to see past his own experiences, he probably wouldn’t have been willing to listen even if she had made some attempt to explain. But she could have spared herself, and him, that last biting comment before his face had turned back to stone and her flat suddenly chilly. “I’m surrounded by people trying to gain my favor all day, every day. It gets tiring. And I really was being a cow.”
“All is forgiven.” David says pointedly and Julia chuckles lightly at his retort. There seems to be a note of sarcasm in the trill that just fell off her lips. He cocks his head. At least if they’re stuck there, they can share a laugh now.
“Aye, maybe there was a part of me that didn’t mean it when I said that last time, but I do after...” After the earth shattered and the cognitive dissonance that was his experience with Julia Montague only intensified. After he learned that hearing Julia Montague sigh as you kiss her neck is one of the most pleasant sounds in the world, and that holding her hand makes people feel things they really shouldn’t.
And, he could have been less harsh that day. He could have asked it differently. He’s begun to wonder if her emotions are less black and white than he used to think. He can tell she cares, even if there is still so much he could teach her. “Stop worryin’ yer head. People have sex. You’re not the first person to want some comfort after something like that.”
“Get shot at, go sleep with your PPO?” It sounds ridiculous even coming out of her mouth.
“Primal instincts. Maybe some survivor’s guilt.” Her face falls.
Fuck, for a moment she’d forgotten to think about poor Terry. A shiver runs through her as she looks up at David and can tell that he’s thinking it too. “I don’t sleep with people that work for me.”
“Never?” He joins her on the floor, looking her straight in the eyes and she knew exactly what he was fishing for.
God, fuck that sniveling little weasel and his repeated attempts to flirt with her. He was too damn good at his job for it to be reasonable to just fire him, and never actually crossed the line to too inappropriate. He was trying to woo her too much for her to actually consider him interesting. And it would please Roger too much to see her struggle to find someone new who was as effective as Rob. The end result being that he was unfortunately, a nuisance she’d deemed necessary for now.
“No.” She said, flatly denying it and hoping her repeated dismissal over the past few weeks has caught David’s eye too.
“Aye, don’t worry, I won’t tell a soul.” He seems to be making a weak attempt at what looks like… a smile? She can’t really tell. It’s nice though. She likes his smile.
“David, if people found out…” She warns, earnestly. Not sure whether she can really trust him to be the good guy she suspects he is, and concerned that her evolving impression of the man has impaired her cogent gut feeling.
“Like I’ve said, not a soul. We’re adults, we’ll get over it. Forget it happened.” David clears his throat, slightly on edge because he’s definitely lying. He won’t forget that night, not as long as he lives. Julia smiles nervously, and he bites his lip. He’s not supposed to get personal with the Principal, but they threw that out the window almost 15 hours ago. So he dares ask something he’s been thinking about since he’d walked out of Pascoe House. Worried about, actually. “How do you feel after...?”
She's quiet for a beat.
“As if the world ended and I woke up some place I’ve never been before. I just don’t know how to…” Her voice falters. She strives for something adequate. A perfect word to voice how it feels. ‘Help, I’m on the outside of myself. I’m all alone. I can’t do this.’ That’s how it feels. But she can’t say that. “Be.”
“Aye. I understand.” David whispers back. It feels intimate, sitting opposite her this closely. Breathing the same, stale air. Waiting to be let out, but hoping it takes a little bit longer.
“I think you’re the only that does.” Julia sighs. “My mother says I’ve been traumatized.” She flashes him an obviously fake smile. He only had to see a real one once to know the difference. This is her appeasement smile. It shouldn’t annoy him that that’s what he’s getting but it does. “As if talking to her for twenty minutes helped any.”
“You could take a day off. Most people would.” He knows the answer before she says it, but he likes the way her lips curl into a little smile before she answers him.
“I’m not afforded such luxuries, you must know by now.” Julia looks at her hands, the ones he’d held in his not that long ago, and though he can see her mind working, he’s all caught up in the little hint of amusement he can see on her lips. “Although if you had your way we’d probably all be working set hours, trying to make Westminster run on a 9-5 schedule.”
He laughs. At least her sense of humor is in tact, even if it’s yet again at his expense. He doesn’t care. And she’s not wrong, he absolutely thinks all those miserable bastards need to spend more time at home, less time causing trouble in office.
“Aye sure, take a shot at my politics. Perfect place for it, both of us stuck here with nowhere to run.” She chuckles and then her face falls. A sense of dread and uncertainty colors it, her eyes don’t sparkle like they did five seconds ago.
“I’m not afraid of you.”
He chooses to ignore the fact that it’s an oddly specific answer to a question he didn’t ask, and ask one he suddenly needs to know the answer to.
“What are you afraid of?”
“I..." She takes a deep breath. "Am not afraid of anything.” And there’s that very fake smile again. Fuck. How did he not notice this before?
“Liar.” He inches closer and looks straight into her eyes. So close they can’t even see all the lines they’ve crossed in the far distance, and runs his hand across her face, gently caressing her cheek as he smiles reassuringly and asks her again. “What are you scared of, Julia?”
The quiet between them is a little too quiet as she debates whether to answer him or not. Enjoying the warmth of his palm against her cheek, leaning against it ever so slightly before she catches herself.
“Right now, everything.” Her breath hitched just a bit, just enough to remind him he’s still touching her cheek. His eyes flit down to her lips, then up again. Finds her eyes trained on him, watching carefully as a spark of something seems to fly between them. Maybe he’s the only one that feels it. He lets go, a little unwillingly, and tries not to look at her as she appears to regret what she’s shared and leans back against the wall.
“The shock’s worn off so you’ll…” His voice falters. “Make sure you take a break. And I’m not just saying that because when you take a break it means I get a break.” David smiles and feels better when she returns his worn smile with one of her own.
“No, I should hope not. I’m alright, you don’t have to worry.” Her mood seems to have perked a bit at his weak attempt at a wit.
“Did you sleep last night?” She shakes her head. He didn’t expect her to have. He didn’t sleep much either after he left. He wonders if she was treated to the epic cinematic replay of last night’s events the way he had been as he lay wide awake most of the night.
She tenses again. Bites her lip and looks at him solemnly. “If anyone finds out you were there. About the lines we crossed, that I made you...”
“Julia, if I hadn’t wanted to sleep with you, it wouldn’t have happened. I’m a big lad and you’re not the big bad wolf.” He tries to suppress a cheeky smile. “Or cow, as it were.”
She smiles again. Chuckles and squeezes her lips quickly before she retorts. “Sometimes I am.”
“Aye, sometimes. But not this time. I knew what I was doing, it was just as much my responsibility to stop what happened with us. More so it was. You had been traumatized, you barely knew what was up and down...”
“I was shaken.” She had barely known what was up and down. Constantly frozen in a fog where her ears were ringing and people chatted around her. Drained of energy when he’d arrived at her request and become the target for all her pent up feelings. Her anger. Her fear. Her sense of betrayal. “But I… I wanted it too.”
“So can we move past it?”
“Yes.” She nods in relief. Smiles quickly and catches her breath. “Thank you. For being so nice about it.” The corner of her eye catches a reflection of herself in the mirror. A split mirror image staring back of her, disrupted by worn steel.
“You should ask for ice chips.” He offers politely.
“I’m sorry?” Julia’s eyes meet his again and David notices the tired look in her eyes as if she’s about to fall asleep where she sits.
“It helps when you feel panicked and you can’t sleep. Ice.”
“I must look a state if it’s that obvious.”
“No, you look--.” He stops himself. “You’re a belter.” His lips do that thing, that annoying little quirk she’s already paid way too much attention to, where they lift as it he’s about to smile but he doesn’t. He clears his throat and scratches his ear, pulling out the ear piece and leaving it hanging over his shoulder.
“Are you really doing alright?” He asks quietly after about a straight minute of silence. Julia looks at him, those tired eyes stare back and he doesn’t need her to answer. She’s clearly not.
“No.” Simple and honest. Finally. There are no tears, she doesn’t have any to spare.
David doesn’t know why, maybe it’s just the things he’s been taught, maybe it’s something more, but he pulls her into his arms and lets her rest against him. Her arm comforting around his waist as it wraps around him. Her head heavy on his chest as it moves with his breaths.
He doesn’t know how long they sit there wrapped up together, but however long it is is too long and too short, and he wouldn’t mind doing it again. She sits back up, a grateful hand runs along his jaw as she stares up at him. Lost in the way they look back at her and make her wish she was anyone else at any other point in time. Admiring the way the light reflects off them until she can’t see them anymore, only the darkness.
Some sort of blackout.
“It’s just the lights.” He whispers softly, trying assure them both.
“Yeah.” She whispers back. He can feel it dancing on his lips.
Julia starts to panic, David can feel it in the way she squirms in his arms. He pulls her closer, slowly stroking her back and wonders if she’ll stop him. They breathe together slowly. One breath at a time, one moment after another.
Now she can just make out the contour of his face in the dim emergency light.
She entertains it briefly. How good it would feel if she leaned in just a bit. If their lips tangled again. If his mouth parted and traced a map on her skin. Made her forget the world like he did last night. Make her pulse quicken for better reasons than traumatic images replaying in her mind or the lights switching off.
His breath is warm against her face. And unlike yesterday, it doesn’t smell of beer. It smells of weak hints of peppermint. His cologne is the same, though. She desperately wants to bury her head in his neck again. Burrow it deeper and deeper until she disappears into him. Until the world goes away and there is only their quiet. Replace the sound of Terry’s skull bursting apart with the sounds of David’s panting breaths in her ear. Let the groans in her ear as he comes, drown out the constant, dulled pain she feels.
David’s hand lingers on her back. His lips part as he stares at her mouth and she instinctively pulls closer. Wanting him as close as he can get now. Wants him to kiss her so she doesn’t have to make the first move. It’s his turn. If he even wants it.
Every little breath pounds in his ears. Her lips have parted three times and he’s resisted kissing them each time. The dark makes it hard to see anything else at all, but he can hear her clearly. Breathing heavily beside him, trembling a bit under his touch. He wants to lean forward, wants to feel the delightful pressure of her mouth on his again. They’ve just reached a very rational decision about last night and all he can think about is how she whispered his name as she came undone beneath him. That slight gasp and the rasp of her nails on his neck as she closed her eyes. The freedom he felt as he let go too. Let go of all the pent up things he’d felt burst to the surface last night and bit her lip before he’d groaned into the muted curve of her shoulder.
He wants to.
He wants her to. But she doesn’t.
His hand slides along her hip bone, back toward her lower back and feels the blouse against the palm of his hand. Maybe he pulls himself closer, maybe he manages to do so before he’s spending every morsel of energy just trying not to kiss her. Hovering slightly. Staring at the barely there outline of her mouth in the almost dark. He decides to do it. Fuck what they said earlier, he just wants to feel good again. To feel her acceptance and her openness. To feel her mouth and her body welcome him. His eyes close and he hears a quick breath as he leans in.
Julia’s.
Then his.
His mouth ghosts along her bottom lip. Taking it gently, biting just a little bit like she did yesterday. Nibbling a couple of times until she hums approvingly, her fingers grazing his jaw before holding it against his cheek, tilting him slightly before she sucks on his lip. Her hand firm on his cheek and mouth hot against his.
She pulls him apart at the seams, sucking on his bottom lip until he moans involuntarily. He didn’t mean to. She seems to be fine sitting there uncomfortably against the hard wall as he selfishly takes what he wants. Maybe he wants it too, he's not sure he cares right now in the intoxicating of her perfume and heightened senses. It’s the first time in 20 hours his body doesn’t feel unfamiliar to him. Kissing her is a homecoming and a new adventure all at once.
She holds him close, her hand at the back of his neck as she pulls away. It’s a small enclosed space, but it had gotten colder earlier as they’d stood there waiting for help. But now she’s burning. She steals another kiss and doesn’t mind the rough hand that slides under her jacket. And doesn't mind the man that hovers above her as she breathes heavily and hopes no one comes to find them.
He’s so close to her lips. Pressing a light kiss on her mouth and pulls back to see if she’s changed her mind, if they’re actually doing this.
*SPEAKER CRACKLE*
“Alright Miss Montague, sorry to leave you hanging in there, hope the noise didn’t scare youse.” A dark, London accent booms into their little darkened enclosure before the lights turn back on. “Just seen maintenance arrive and they’ll be getting you out any second.”
He sits back as he watches her intently. She sits up straight and wipes her lip. Her face turning from the soft and wounded gaze that he’d seen before, to hard and impenetrable. She clears her throat and takes a deep breath and then addresses the male that’s come to their rescue.
“Thank you.”
Rescuing them from what he isn’t sure, but it’s probably for the best. They’re not these people, are they? Apart from their momentary lapse in judgment. Lapses.
It absolutely has to stop.
But it doesn’t.