Work Text:
Stiff and exhausted after hours of typing in her draughty attic bedroom, Sophie Brown stifled a yawn and headed for her dilapidated bathroom down the hall for a bath before turning in for the night, Hamish padding along beside her.
She went to turn on the tap fully, eager for a long soak in soothing, almost painfully hot, water but nothing happened. Not a drop fell into the lime scaled tub.
"Damnit!" Sophie shouted, frustrated. "Just my luck, eh, Hamish? What am I going to do now, boy? I don't suppose a certain grumpy Duke would mind lending me his bathroom for the evening?"
Hamish lifted his head and gave a bark of approval at the idea as his tail beat happily on the bare floorboards.
"Really?" questioned Sophie incredulously, raising her eyebrows. "Well...if he gets mad, I'm blaming you."
Sophie busied herself gathering her favourite bath soak, her shampoo and a razor. She considered asking Thomas for a bottle of red wine but thought of her rapidly approaching deadline and Clare's increasingly irate phonecalls and decided against it.
Finally, slipping out of her clothes and into her silk bathrobe, she left her room.
"Come on! You've braved baying crowds and ruthless talk show hosts; you can do this!" Steeling herself for a frosty reaction, Sophie knocked on Myles' door.
The door opened to reveal Myles Dunbar in his work jeans and a fine knit sweater in navy blue. He took in the sight before him, his gaze lingering on Sophie's chest where her robe had fallen into a deep V for a little longer than was absolutely necessary.
"Yes?" he asked with low voice laced with a feeling that Sophie couldn't identify: her body, however, responded to it immediately and the intensity of her reaction shocked her.
"Uh," she began, flustered, "I uh wanted a bath but there doesn't seem to be any water running in my bathroom so I wondered if, if you weren't planning to use it this evening that is, I could possibly borrow your bathroom?" "Please," she added in an embarrassed whisper.
The corner of Myles' mouth twitched. The smug sadist was enjoying her discomfort!
"Of course," he replied, "although the hot water has been temperamental lately so I'll help you run your bath." With that, he led the way and Sophie followed behind, not quite believing her luck.
"Thank you, Myles," smiled Sophie warmly as the spacious tub began to fill. She added a generous amount of bath soak before sitting down on the rim. She stretched, her back, neck and shoulders protesting, causing her to wince.
"Don't mention it," answered Myles. "No, but really, don't; Thomas will be insufferable if he catches wind of this!"
"Why?" Sophie queried and Myles shifted uncomfortably, glancing down at his socks. He scratched his cheek as he thought how best to reply.
"He, uh, seems to think there might be a bit of a spark between us," Myles began, risking a quick look up at Sophie to gauge her reaction. "So he's taken it upon himself to act as matchmaker. Come to think of it, do your taps look like they've been tampered with? This could be the handiwork of a certain kilt-wearing divvy intent on setting us up..." he trailed off, shrugging awkwardly.
"Oh." Sophie didn't know what to say. So Thomas had noticed the attraction between them too? She thought back to the stolen glances, the shared dinners, the 'not like they were dates or anything' that she and Myles often found themselves on in recent weeks. She supposed it was obvious: hell, even the dog had clocked it!
The pair stood close together in the cramped confines of the small room. "Bath's run," Myles muttered, eyes locking on Sophie's lips again. Sophie noticed that he had made no attempt to leave. A sudden thought came to her; was she brave enough to act on it? Myles' next words gave her all the encoragement she needed.
"You know, if you're feeling stiff after writing about your warrior woman all day, I'd be happy to rub your shoulders or..."
Emboldened, her eyes never leaving his, she untied her bathrobe and let it drop from her shoulders to pool on the floor.