Title: Oh My Goodness
Disclaimer: Silk is for Peter Moffat, not me.
Notes: Written for AlternativeRocker, a fellow Silk fan :) I ship Martha/Daniel 'cause I am a romantic somewhere inside and Daniel is clearly smitten.
Cause I don't know if I can stop now
I'm going too fast, heart first
My head just can't slow me down
And I don't care if you don't break my fall
You got me dreaming of a life
That anybody else would die for
If he broke it down into segments, it was all rather straightforward really. Outlining the participant, 'himself' or he. The action taken place 'love' and then the subject of the action. Too many years of writing endless police reports, and Daniel came to the conclusion that he had fallen in love with Martha Costello. As stated previously (see) – simple. In verifying this, Daniel smacked his head on the desk which even though made a distinct thump on the surface, didn't hurt as he was already leaning down to read the case notes. Unfortunately, the noise caught the attention of the only other person in the room. Martha.
'Everything alright?' she asked, pen poised at her mouth. She had a habit of doing that, he'd noticed. He could count how many times she had stuck a pen in her mouth while reading briefs or case notes from solicitors. Martha would hunch, a lock of blonde hair slipping into her face. She always looked so focused and so...
Daniel raised his head, grinning in which he hoped was a reassuring manner.
'Yes thanks. Long day'
'I know. You fancy shifting this lot to mine where I can give you the beer you look like you're longing for?' she sunk into her leather stitched chair, tilting her head in question. Daniel faulted, hesitated. The last time he had been at Martha's, Clive had interrupted them. This left Daniel suddenly feeling he was the one imposing on something when in fact Clive was the one uninvited. Clive Reader could do that to you.
'Sure' he replied, observing the now mess of his desk. Martha nodded absently at him, and then eased herself out of her chair. Daniel stacked his group of files, glancing over at Martha quickly. The lamps were on in the room, outside now pitch black, the yellow-green hue of the lights haloed Martha for a moment.
Shite.
He almost knocked his cold cup of tea from his desk.
Martha was gorgeous. He had heard Clive tell her that and she would fixate him with a 'Honestly, flattery won't get you in my good books' way of hers that has made defendants shut up quite quickly. Daniel complimented her once, at the bar, and she grinned, shaking her head.
She didn't want to believe it.
That was what it was.
Daniel had never come across a woman who can wear a formal crisp white shirt, suit blazer and a pencil skirt each day and make his heart stop when she walked through the doors every 9 am. It confused him, but made him fall a little bit in love. Her short fair hair, red lipstick and those sunglasses he teased her that she nicked off Elton John made her a 50s style pin up. She had class, which Daniel had to admit, was rare these days - not being sexist mind.
This sounded very much like Daniel was objectifying the QC, but he honestly wasn't. He didn't do that. Martha was incredibly smart, talented and knew how to twist the knife with the facts to prove she was right. It worked; she helped innocent people walk free from the court rooms. Martha stood her ground, was stubborn as anything, letting no one take advantage. From the day, he bumped into her, the name he had heard of, he didn't much care for Clive's Oxbridge attitude, Martha cared about doing her job and winning for her defendants. Clive was all panache half the time, so he and Daniel came to blows more often than not. Instead of dismissing him because he was a former copper, Martha blinked in surprise but was curious. In a case where he spotted something from his drugs-bust days, a somewhat huge giveaway, Martha gave him a million watt smile.
When he found out that Martha and Clive had a history, of course he was jealous. He admired her, befriended her and – that was none of his business. Sometimes he saw the way Clive looked at her but he doesn't see the obnoxious bastard that Daniel sometimes wants to punch in the face for the risk of being sentenced for ABH, he saw a softness. And he doesn't like it.
Billy Lamb, Head Clerk of Shoe Lane Chambers and a man Daniel swore to himself never to piss off, said quietly to him that –
We all fall a little bit in love with Miss Martha Costello, sir, all of us.
A man never spoke more truth.
Daniel slipped on his jacket, not aware that Martha had now packed up and was standing by the door waiting, but looking amused.
'Should I be worried?' she asked.
'Hmm, sorry?'
'You were in dream land. Not very clever for a barrister Mr Lomas'
'Well Miss Costello, I won't do it again' they shared a smile, her eyes twinkling. He called her Martha mostly, at first, he had called her Miss Costello, but she let him know on the way to a court room that she insisted he said Martha. He complied, eventually. Now, whenever they were joking they used Mr and Miss.
'Come on' she nodded towards the door.
'You do owe me a beer, actually' he said, picking everything up and managing to balance it. Walking over to her, he reached for the door handle.
'All the better'
'In vino veritas… but I suppose beer is a good substitute' he commented as they left the room, closing the door lightly, heading out into the dimly lit hallway.
'Don't knock it, I've won my finest cases over a bottle of beer' she replied, sounding smug but with a modest expression.
Once outside, they turned the corner to where her car was parked on the cobbles. 'Right, hop in' she said simply, somehow managing to open the car with her arms full. He had offered to carry files and reports for her on occasion; however, she said that if she wanted him to carry anything he would be carrying them. Point taken. The car lights flashed invitingly, so he leaned over, dumping the heavy, note ridden reports in the backseat and opening the door to the passenger side. The clapping of the shutting doors echoed around Shoe Lane court - oddly eerie.
Martha switched on the engine, the car rumbling to life before reversing and cornering onto the main road.
He was older than the average pupil, he had a different kind of background life than the average pupil.
But he was still young enough to fall in love, and average enough to fall head over heels for Martha Costello, QC.