A Cancelled verse drabble from the tumblr dialogue line prompt of, "Not unless you give me a kiss." Lots of hints, no reveals yet. Massive thanks to my usual supporters and betas, Lala-Kate and Cls2011. Now, I want to hear from all of YOU as to what you think... ;)
Her laughter cut through everything else in the noisy pub, and Matthew couldn't help but keep his gaze focused on her as she was nearly doubled over, ruby lips curved into a huge smile as she cackled at something Anna said. The unrestrained note of her mirth made it obvious it was fueled more by a few extra pints than actual humor. He wasn't sure he had ever seen Mary drunk before, but she had been intent on drowning something tonight.
The office group was breaking up, starting to say goodbyes, and Tom nudged him as he passed following the direction of Matthew's moody stare.
"Syb's texted me twice already. Any chance you can keep an eye on her?"
Matthew sighed. Of course he could. He would love to keep more than an eye on her, but with all the tension between the two of them lately at work, he wasn't necessarily sure how any offer of seeing her back to her flat would go over.
He rubbed the back of his neck before giving Tom a nod. "No worries."
Tom clapped him on the back and was off, leaving Matthew to drain the golden remnants in his glass before stepping to the bar to settle the evening's tab.
When he turned back, Mary was giggling to herself as she tried to get her coat on, yet somehow making her way to the door behind the last of the crowd as she did. He had to lengthen his stride to catch up to her, managing to ease her searching hand into her second sleeve and settling her coat on her shoulders as she lost her balance into him.
Velvet brown eyes looked up at him in surprise, and then darkened as her laughing smile took on an odd quirk. "Oh, look, the knight in shining armor."
There was no missing the sarcastic bite to her words as she leaned agains him for a moment more before shoving herself off roughly. He reached for his own coat by the door.
"Just consider me a hired mercenary, then."
"Ha!" Her feet were weaving an unsteady path out onto the pavement. "I'm one stop away, Matthew. I've never needed help walking it before." She shoved her hands in her pockets as she tried to determinedly march away from him, but nearly lost her balance instead.
"You don't usually mix shots in with more pints than Greg drinks in a week." He had looped his arm through her elbow and headed her across the quiet street to the tube station. "A ten minute escort to make sure you don't break one of those heels can't be that much of an annoyance."
She screwed up her face at him, and then giggled. "Fine then. You can play the gentleman for me. But I'll have you know, I'll be grading your performance."
"Excellent, a challenge," he muttered, but quickly ushered her in front of him at the turnstiles, swiping his own card to let her through and again to enter himself, all before she could fumble for her own pass.
"Going for bonus points, are you?" she said letting him take her arm again.
He was more concerned about getting her down the stairs in one piece than answering her.
Timing was such he was able to steer her straight to the platform and through the opening doors of the train. She raised her brows at him as she landed in a seat a little less than gracefully. He gave her a grin as he sat sown next to her. "That was completely arranged. I have my ways."
She tried to muffle a giggle, and leaned into him a bit more than she realized and he had to close his eyes against the electric current she sparked through him. The winter cold of the night had a losing battle with the heat that was flamed up in him. Every bit of him wanted to drink it in, give in to the lure of her, the pull of his own needs. All of him but that nagging voice of his conscience that told him he had promises to keep, and he was about to screw up big time.
The announcement of her stop seemed to come all to soon, and he put his hand on her again to keep her from rising while the train was still moving. Her eyelids were dropping slightly, giving evidence of sleepiness quickly settling in, and her cheeks were flushed. He couldn't help but look at her, how she suddenly looked too young, too vulnerable and he silently cursed as his heart added its own aching twist to his thoughts.
Arm slipping easily around her waist he guided her through the nearly deserted station, out onto the high street now dim and still. She hesitated a minute relaxing into his side a bit more before shaking her head, as if suddenly recognizing where she was.
"This way," he prompted with a slight squeeze, then sucked in his breath as she slipped her own arm around him as they crossed over and wound the couple of blocks through sleepy terraces, white bricks of facades glowing under the dark overcast night, iron work gates and fallow gardens kissed with frost.
She tried to skip up the front steps of her house that held her flat, but slipped and nearly pulled him along in her tangle of legs and grasping hands. That carefree cackle erupted again, breaking the silence of the street, and Matthew tried to shush her as he pulled her to her feet, steadying her as she climbed the handful of steps and fumbled at the keypad beside the door.
"Really, Matthew, too uptight at times," she bubbled, finally getting the keys correct on her third try, the door clicking open. She tossed him a glance over her shoulder as she walked through the door he held open for her. "One more flight. I'll race you."
Heels went skittering in two different directions across the foyer as she kicked them off and somehow managed sprint up the stairs with more coordination than he thought possible. Seeing she was nearly at the top without breaking her neck, he bent to retrieve the red-soled shoes he know she'd want back and slowly climbed the steps to the upper foyer outside her door.
Offering her her shoes in one hand, he held out his other. "Your keys, if I may?"
Holding his gaze, she plucked the shoes out of his grasp with slow smile, and let them fall to the floor again. He recognized too late a dangerous light to her dark eyes. She leaned forward into him, raising herself on tiptoe to whisper against his ear.
"Not unless you give me a kiss."
He wasn't sure he was going to ever be able to breathe again, and his heart skidded a beat before suddenly jumping into double time as her arms wound around his neck. He knew he needed to push her away, but found himself unable to move as she set alight every nerve under his skin.
Her fingers were gliding through his hair, cradling the back of his head and she pulled him down to meet his lips, but pulled back for a moment.
"Careful, Crawly. You still need to be the gentleman and give a proper goodnight kiss at the door." The rich warmth of her voice held the lightness of a teasing tone that was just to the left of downright seductive. The nearly physical pulse of it that wrapped around him was making his head spin as blood began to pool in another area of his body. "Nothing sloppy, no tongue, just a proper, gentlemanly kiss."
Her last few words were punctuated with the strokes of her thumbs across his cheeks, and her body suddenly pressing into his, thickness of winter coats no barrier to him knowing all too well what she felt like against him.
He had to swallow his moan as she pulled his mouth down onto hers, sweet with the night air, but warm with her breath as she let her own lips part against his. Clearly her admonishment of no tongue applied only to him as she began to gently caress the curve of his upper lip with the hot tip of her tongue, tasting him throughly as he tried his best to keep from slamming her back against the door and plundering her mouth with the heated fury that was roaring in his ears at this moment.
Fuck proper, nothing in the last half hour had been proper between them, and instead of lifting his arms to untwine hers from around him and stepping away as he should, he pulled her into an embrace that told her everything the restraint of his mouth against the onslaught of her lips wouldn't. Tumbling past the hell of conflicted emotions, broken promises, he caressed her seeking mouth with his, carefully sucking at her, teasing her just as she was angrily torturing him.
A gasp for air, the heat of the charged space between them, unblinking eyes finding each other again, he stared into the dizzying depths of hers, recognizing every piece of hurt, want, fury and need. Shaking hands that wanted to clench into fists at his own betrayal, he carefully stepped back from her. The frozen mask slipped back into place on her face, and he watched as her own trembling hand found her pocket and pulled out her keys. Her lifted brow spoke so much more than they ever would allow themselves to utter aloud, and he fought back his own self-loathing as he turned the lock and opened the door for her.
Her shoes were back in her grasp, knuckles white as she looked up at him for a moment. "I'll be generous and give you an A there, Crawley." Her voice sounded a hell of a lot steadier than he felt, and he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from cursing aloud.
"Do you need —"
"No," her sharp tone cut him off. "I think I can manage the rest on my own."
Her mix of suggestion and pique were a heady combination for his already inflamed desires, and he was at a knife's edge of tossing away any last scrap of honor he had. Instead, her door shutting in his face made the decision for him, and he tottered back to the side where the shreds of his integrity were quickly being reduced to ash. This time he did let a breath laced with every profanity he could think of, all squarely directed back at himself. He'd take the longer walk in the frigid air back to his flat, wondering if he could despise himself anymore than he did now.