Chapter Text
“Have you seen it?” Karen asks inquisitively as they try to inconspicuously make their way out of the gate and down to the baggage area. Thankfully due to a red-eye flight, there aren’t too many people around – which, thankfully – means no gawkers. Matt is just too tired to deal with that now. He loves his fans of course. They are his lifeblood and still keep him going all these years after his reign on the show ended.
But his mind has been elsewhere lately. For the past several weeks, as a matter of fact. No matter how hard he’s tried to dismiss it with realities, it all just keeps circling back around.
To her. Always to her. Even now.
“Seen what?” he replies, distracted at the baggage carousel looking for their luggage as one bag after another falls in front of him.
Karen, eyes glued to her phone, scrolls mindlessly as she answers him. “The social media frenzy that’s been created from The Doctor and his Wife appearing together once again.” She pauses a beat only to add, under her breath, “Well – more like you and Alex.”
Matt scoffs as he grabs a hold of his bag and hauls it off the carousel, dumping it at his feet. His eyes still forward, now searching for Karen’s bag so they can get out of here and get to the hotel and sleep.
Oh, who was he kidding – there’s no way he’ll be able to sleep. His conscious mind is plagued with thoughts of her and surely he knows his dreams will be much the same.
“C’mon Kaz, you know I don’t read that rubbish,” he says flippantly. “And neither should you.”
She puts one hand up in mock surrender. “I’m just saying,” she retorts playfully. “People are going nuts over you two being together at an appearance again.”
Matt adjusts the glasses on the bridge of his nose and calculatedly tries not to show a reaction. “Yeah,” is all he manages to blurt out before he catches a glimpse of Karen’s bag and retrieves it. He turns to her, placing the suitcase at her feet and arching his eyebrows. “Ready?”
They begin walking, making their way to the awaiting car and driver. Karen slips her phone in her pocket and looks sideways over her shoulder in his direction. “And what about you?”
He knows where she’s going with this, and decisively opts to play stupid and not give in to this game again. “What about me?” he asks rhetorically, glancing over to her. She rolls her eyes, frustrated he’s being so closed off with her – but decides to pursue it anyway.
“How do you feel about being with Alex again?” When she is met only with silence, she winces thinking she’s pushed him too far. “It’s been a long time,” she offers quietly – an effort to dull whatever sting the subject still attacks him with.
They finally arrive to the car and the driver begins to load their bags into the trunk. Matt turns to Karen and shrugs, a plastic smile covering his face. “I’m fine. Honestly, it’s not that big a deal, Kaz. It’ll be great. Just too bad Arthur couldn’t make it.” He ducks his head and climbs in the back seat, leaving Karen frustrated with how quickly and easily he closes himself off whenever the subject of Alex comes up. She exhales with a sigh and climbs in after him, deciding for now to let it go and see how the weekend plays out.
Matt and Karen arrive to the hotel, checking in and making their separate ways to their respective rooms. Walking into the empty room and taking a brief glance around, Matt falls with a huff face-first onto the bed, landing with a thump. Due to the time of the flight and time zone change, they have a whole day until the beginning of the convention. He knows Karen will use it to sleep. That woman could sleep in the middle of a busy highway on a normal day – let alone after this kind of jetlag.
Matt, on the other hand – knows he needs to sleep, but just…can’t. Too many thoughts in his head, too many emotions in his heart, adding up to too much anxiety to be able to rightfully sleep. He knew. He’d tried. He thinks to call Lily, and glances at the clock – no, too late – he surmises. With a heavy sigh he rights himself up to a sitting position on the bed. He needs a distraction. Something for his mind to fixate on. Or, alternatively, something to numb his mind completely.
He looks down at the time on his phone. It’s after noon. Not completely out of the question to enjoy a drink and blur his current reality just a bit. Before he can second-guess himself he grabs his room key and bolts out of the door, into the elevator, and down to the bar. It is mostly empty, which he finds himself grateful for. He orders his beer, downing it rather quickly, only to nurse the second one a little bit more. With his eyes glued to the football game on the television in front of him, he is completely tuned out and doesn’t see her approach in his peripheral vision.
“Fancy a drinking partner?”
He nearly chokes mid-swallow when he hears her voice – that smoky, sultry without effort voice that knocks the wind out of him nearly every time he hears it echo in his ear.
“Alex! Hi, hi-” he stammers while patting himself and the small spot of the bar in front of him with a napkin.
She laughs haughtily and playfully, covering her mouth with her hand. “Some things really never change, do they?”
He turns his head and meets her smiling eyes, and lord – he can’t help himself – he laughs, too, wholly and soulfully and for the first time in a long time feels lighter than air.
“You just took me by surprise, is all.” He chortles as he stands to greet her properly. He steps to her, opening his arms wide. In turn she does the same. He reaches under her arms and she circles his neck as they embrace, holding each other once again.
It feels like magic. It feels like too long has passed. It feels like home.
Matt turns his head into her neck and breathes her in slowly, subconsciously tightening his grip around her waist. He lifts up ever so slightly and her feet are off the ground and though he can’t see her face, she is smiling and holding his shoulders securely. After realizing quickly that the moment has passed its point of going for too long, he sets her down gently and reluctantly removes his hands from her waist – sighing gently in disappointment when her hands trail from his neck and he’s once again out of reach of her touch.
“Join me,” he offers with a stoic cheerfulness. “Let me buy you a drink.”
Alex pulls out the barstool next to him, plopping her purse down in front of her. “Don’t mind if I do, actually,” she says flatly. “What a day.”
“Yeah I didn’t know when you’d be getting in…long flight?”
She rolls her eyes in frustration and the corners of his mouth turn upwards into a small smile. He’d not forgotten all her small idiosyncrasies, her little facial expressions and nuances that make her so…her. But getting to see them in action again, in person, lights fireworks inside him that he had forgotten could exist. He snaps out of his own head and realizes he’d accidentally completely tuned out the first part of what she was saying, and tries to catch up with her story.
“And I’m just so, so tired and needing proper sleep, but just can’t seem to rest the inside of my head well enough to do it. So I thought a small cocktail might suffice…and lo and behold, look who I find,” she says with a smile.
Matt gestures the bartender over and watches as Alex orders a Bloody Mary with extra spice. He takes another sip of his drink. “Bloody Mary’s still your favorite eh? I remember how you used to always love those with breakfast food.”
“Sugar and spice nev-”
“Never tasted so nice,” he finishes for her. “I remember it well.” He says the last part with a touch of wistful longing and an awkward silence wedges between them for a brief moment before her drink arrives. He holds his glass in her direction. “Well? Cheers.”
“Cheers,” she clinks her glass with his. “One more go ‘round for the Doctor and his Wife,” she murmurs before taking a long sip of her drink. Matt nearly chokes again, but instead swallows the hard lump in his throat, as he realizes those were the exact same words Kaz had read to him earlier. Had Alex been reading up on all that social media nonsense? He knew she was fairly new to the whole thing, but just figured she didn’t actually partake in any of it. What does he say to that? How does she expect him to respond? Did she read all the ardent gossip about herself and he being together again? His stomach immediately ties into a thousand knots and he shifts uncomfortably.
“So where’s Karen?” Alex asks, changing the subject – Matt wondering if on purpose, wondering if she noticed his tense frame. Regardless, he’s thankful for the distraction.
“Uh, sleeping would be my guess.” He chuckles softly. “You know her.”
Alex’s lips curl into a smile. “That girl could outsleep a bear in hibernation.” Matt nods furiously, ordering another round for them – silently pausing to ask her for permission with his eyes. She nods back as she sucks a liquor-soaked olive off the end of the toothpick from her now empty drink. She hums in appreciation and he watches her out of the corner of his eye, watching that delectable mouth…hearing the small moan from the back of her throat…remembering…
And cursing silently at the gods above.
“So you two flew in together then, from LA?” she inquires.
“Yeah, yeah. Nice to have a travel partner.”
Alex nods and sips some more. “And…” she pauses. “Other things? Going well?”
He knows what she means immediately. Lily. Though admittedly he’s partly surprised she’s asking in such a roundabout way. Alex was never the type to beat around the bush. She’s always been very direct with him…sometimes to the point of murder. Sometimes to the point of squeezing every last drop of blood his heart had to offer. It makes him think something else is going on with her. Perhaps something she doesn’t want to talk about. Or maybe, perhaps something she does want to talk about but doesn’t want to bring up. He’s not sure anymore. He used to be able to read her like a book, inside and out. She’s still the same Alex, of course. But things have just…changed. Their relationship, changed. Not necessarily worse for wear, he notes to himself, but time has a funny way of catching up and unravelling you all at once. That ease they once had, the gentle nuance of spending your days with the same people and watching them and knowing them…had simply slipped away. They’d spent too much time apart. And though he is aware they’ve already fallen into a pattern of familiarity in just the short time they’ve spent together now, there exists just a fine, misting layer of doubt that encircles him - encircles them.
“Ah,” he takes a breath before answering. “Fine…fine. Things are good.” There. Short and to the point. If she wanted to know more she’d truly just ask, right?
Alex smiles wistfully in his direction. “Good,” she says softly.
Matt waits a beat, unsure whether to ask the question. Unsure whether he wants to hear the answer. Fuck it, he thinks, his inhibitions slowly slipping away as each empty bottle passes through his lips.
“And you?” he asks her. “How are things?”
She purses her lips at him – not angrily – but rather playful, flirty even. Like the Alex he remembers. His Alex. “Things are good,” she surmises before taking another, long, sip of her drink, nearly emptying it. He eyes her pensively, waiting to see if she’ll finish her thought. Knowing there’s much more behind that thought than she’s letting on. Like turning the page to his favorite book…waiting for more.
“I’m getting married again,” she blurts out as she stares into the emptiness of her glass, using the straw to play with the remaining ice and push it down – a nervous habit he knew all too well. She can’t look at him…won’t look at him. Why? He waits for her to press on, waits for her to turn her head to him and smile with glee. But she doesn’t. She simply keeps staring a burning hole into that damned glass.
She’s waiting for him to say something.
He’s gutted. Surely, logically, he shouldn’t be. They were never betrothed to each other, they never made promises out loud to each other. What they’d had were late night conversations that prolonged over hours against the sunrise. Flirtatious banter that always blurred the lines of appropriate and wanting. Advice seeking. A shoulder to cry on. An intimacy of two hearts and souls that no one, even themselves, dared speak of or recognize. It was always just under the surface. There was the kiss – the one time they’d thrown all caution to the wind and went for it – it was passion and brilliance, longing and need, love and desire all at once. They’d been interrupted before it could go any further, and never spoke of it and never came close to it again. There had been only slight awkwardness, but neither wanted it to ruin the closeness they’d shared. Once they’d went their own way down each other’s respective career path, he understood that he’d lost all hope of what never was. So he moved on. And he knew she did, too. And of course he was happy for her. In the end that’s all he’d ever wanted – for her to be happy. So why wasn’t she now? And just what the hell was she waiting for him to say?
“Congratulations,” he whispers softly, the hoarseness of his voice betraying his words.
Finally she looks at him. “Thank you,” she returns quietly, but intently, saying thank you as much with her eyes as with her voice.
Another round of drinks arrives and the curtain begins to fall, letting words come more easily and slight touches more often. They laugh; they flirt; it is exactly how he remembers and it fills him entirely.
“So come on then,” he urges her. “Tell me. How do you feel about the whole thing?”
“What, getting married for a third time?” she jokes. “I feel like quite the spinster.”
“Well c’mon now…you know what they say. Third time’s the charm, yeah?”
Alex eyes him almost mischievously, with that hidden sparkle deep behind her eyes that he used to swear was just for him. There was the public Alex…and the Alex with friends and family and out of the public eye…and then there was his Alex. Once upon a time, at least, he could call her his.
His Alex. Full of fire and passion both when she was happy and cross with him. His Alex. Able to banter and sass him and get him riled to the point of madness. His Alex. Soft and tender and gentle, exposing the innermost parts of herself to him when least expected and showing a vulnerable side very few ever had the privilege to see.
His Alex. God, he missed her.
“Something like that,” she responds softly, quietly, and – he senses – almost wistfully. A stillness falls upon them like a low fog, and Matt catches himself gazing upon her…staring into the eyes he once thought he could get lost in forever. And no matter how much his mind screams at him to look away, to look anywhere other than at her, he can’t. He feels himself drawn in again. Only he thinks to himself, in a moment of clarity, that she is staring back. A thousand words are being spoken in the silence, between their eyes, between their hearts. Words they never dared say out loud to each other. Words they never dared say out loud, to anyone, period.
Alex is the first to break the peaceful grace. Unknowingly and unwittingly, she’d rested her hand upon his thigh at some point in the conversation. She looks down, waiting a beat, and Matt meets her glance. He’s about to rest his hand over hers when she swiftly pulls it away, fluffing her hair and downing the last of her drink before righting herself into a standing position. “Well then,” she exhales, gathering her things together. “I think those might’ve done the trick to get me to sleep for a bit,” as she nods toward the empty glass.
And there it is. Her defenses raised again like a castle door. The distance she’s trying to establish now like a mile long moat.
Matt finishes the last of his drink as well, paying the bar tab and standing to face her. “Thank you for the company,” he says with a reserved smile. He is admittedly a bit tipsy, and imagines she is as well – yet both remain tight-lipped and hands kept to themselves in a state of slight awkwardness.
“I missed you,” she lets slip, and quickly follows up with “this. I missed this.” Her lips are pursed and cheeks are flush as she glances at the floor, obviously embarrassed and uncomfortable.
“Hey-” he says as he steps toward her, and before she realizes what’s happening his arms are around her waist again and wrapping around her in a tight hug. “Me too,” his lips whisper in her ear before burying his head in the crook of her neck and breathing her in again. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever have this chance again and he’ll be damned if he misses the opportunity to hold her one last time like this. Her arms tighten around him, too, squeezing his shoulders with her fingers and he lets out a thankful breath of relief. Whatever this is with her – whatever it has been in the past and whatever it shakes out to be in the future - in this moment, he knows they’ll always share a special, unbreakable bond in the deepest recesses of their hearts and subconscious.
He lets her go slowly, reluctantly. The last thing he wants is to make her more uncomfortable. Smiling down upon her glowing, beautiful face, he figures now is as good a time as any for a badly placed joke. “Need help finding your room, Kingston?”
She laughs out loud and smiles a true smile, and it is like Matt is taken back years in time. “Naughty boy,” she chuckles haughtily. “I think I can manage just fine, thank you.”
“Worth a try,” he flirts back with a wink and grabs a toothpick from the bar, placing it between his teeth and physically distancing himself from her. “Always worth a try.”
Alex places her purse strap over her shoulder and turns to walk with him to the elevators. “That’s one thing about you. You never quit trying,” she says with a smile and cheeks still crimson red.
Hands in his pockets, he bashfully ticks his head to one side and chews on his toothpick. “And one thing about you. You always remember.”
Standing in front of the elevators and waiting for the doors to open, she turns to face him. “Special things always deserve remembering.” He’s about to speak when he hears the ding and extends his hand in front of her allowing her to enter first. Stepping in after her, he thanks the gods above there are other people in the lift with them, none of whom seem to recognize either of them. At the very least, the added company halts him from saying or doing anything he’ll remarkably regret later.
The elevator stops at the fifth floor and she steps forward. She pauses as if debating what to say, and quickly glancing at the others patiently waiting for their stops, keeps it simple. “See you tomorrow, then?”
“I’ll look forward to it,” he says, also simple and to the point, but with a soft voice and kind eyes. She begins to walk away and glances over her shoulder one last time in his direction before the doors close and he hangs his head.
“Bugger,” he mutters under his breath. His mind races at a thousand beats per second and though he’d hoped the alcohol would quell the internal carousel, her presence and their interaction has only amplified it. The eighth floor dings and he steps out to walk to his room when suddenly his phone chirping in his back pocket makes him jump. He arrives at his room while simultaneously pulling out his phone and exhales exasperatedly when glancing at it, thumping his forehead against the door as he answers.
“Hey, Lil.”