Title: May I
Word Count: 2,789
Pairings: Michelle Benjamin / David Shepherd
Rating: PG-13 for the language.
Warnings/Spoilers: Takes place sometime after Insurrection. No definite time line though.
Summary: May I hold you as you fall to sleep? When the world is closing in and you can't breathe.
Official Disclaimer: All Kings characters and plots belong to Michael Green and NBC. I do not hold stock either the man or the company. Michelle Benjamin, David Shepherd, and any other character featured are NOT mine. The song used for the title is May I by Trading Yesterday and is not mine either.
And there you stand opened heart--opened doors
full of life with the world that's wanting more.
But I can see when the lights start to fade
the day is done and your smile has gone away.
~May I, Trading Yesterday
She hated to be alone.
Ever since the riot and subsequent hostage situation at Port Prosperity, she hated the thought of being trapped in a room by herself.
It was absurd, she knew, any fears that she might have admitted to could easily be swept to the side. The men that had tried to hut her were all dead, save for Ethan Shepherd and he was back at his mother's farm, under the diligent watch of the men that her father undoubtedly put into place. She had been ordered to stay in the confines of the palace at any rate. She was more than safe, not that it calmed her nerves any.
She should be reading, she thought to herself, brushing up on one petition or another for when she was allowed back in court. She had a briefing to prepare for her next dinner meeting with Paul Lash and there were still more numbers to consider and facts to wind through. It was well past midnight in the palace and if she wasn't going to be able to get any sleep she might as well be productive. Her father refused her a schedule for the next few days, so she could make up any lost sleep later if she felt the need. But for now, she leaned against the headboard of her bed, she should be doing something.
It was a shame that there wasn't much to relax her any more.
She had tried a bath, long and serene, just like her mother used to force her to take when she got headaches as a child. She even had one of the house servants to get her a copy of the latest romance novel so she could read as she soaked, with a story of something pleasant and mindless. Unfortunately for her it didn't help. Music from her sound dock in the bedroom did nothing for her either.
Her restlessness irritated her; more then she should probably have let it. She, after all, had to have something at her disposal that would be able to placate her.
She turned slowly on the bed, dropping her feet off of the edge and placing them on the cold floor. The need to leave the room rising. She pulled her hair up into a hurried French twist and secured it with a clip. The rest of the palace should be well on their way to being asleep by now, with the exception of her brother who kept his own penthouse in the city. Very rarely did he stay in his apartments in the Palace, choosing instead to take his pleasures without their parents underfoot. Briefly she wondered if her outlook on life would change if she were to branch out as Jack had. Looking down at her dark yoga pants and the crocheted long sleeve sleep shirt she had donned after her bath, she forced breath through her lungs and frowned. She could change her clothing, make herself more presentable, but pulling her sheerling lined suede coat off of its resting place on the chair of the antique desk in her sitting room, she realized that the knee length coat would cover most of her.
She didn't have to tell her security team that she was leaving. Her Captain, Steven Sommerholde, seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to her habits. He had been guarding her since she was old enough to venture out of the palace alone, and for once she as glad of both his discretion and his seemingly precognition when it came to her needs. He was already standing on the other side of her door when she opened it, shoes in hand. "I'm going out." She told him simply, if not redundantly.
"I'll send for a car." He told her quickly, pulling his cell phone from its holster at his hip. He barked quiet orders into the receiver and then hung up without preamble, falling into step a few paces behind her as she quietly toed her way to the side staircase that led down past the kitchens. Her caution wasn't warranted though, her brother not being in his rooms and her parents' two floors above her. But he smiled as she crept, much like she had when she was a child. "Where are we going this morning?" He asked.
She stayed quiet, waiting until she was down in the kitchen before sliding into ballerina slippers. They slid of the side door that led to a small driveway, one that was rarely used for more then deliveries and she slid into the back seat of the car as soon as the door was opened for her. She gave the order for the driver to circle the city even as she leaned back against the seat.
Her heart slowly starting to resume a quiet rhythm.
Normally his nights were uneventful. There may be some dinner at the palace that required his attention or a press conference that the king insisted he hold in the press room, but mostly his evenings were his own, to call his mother and brothers or to just relax in his small apartment. Tonight had been a late unscheduled dinner meeting with Mrs. Katrina Ghent and Jack Benjamin so the former could have a few photos taken with the hero of Gilboa to be hung alongside her latest press release about the ministry that she had been given, and the latter could save face after his recent foray into the free press. It was a dinner that he would have been more then happy to skip if it hadn't have been suggested by Thomasina in front of the king. David was tired of his life being commandeered.
He ran a towel over his head and nodded to the beat of the music from his radio. He had grown accustomed to leaving it on when it was home, being one of seven boys in his mother's home growing up, quiet was something he did not revel in.
It was late, he knew that without looking at the clock by his bedside, and he counted himself lucky that the only thing on his agenda the following day was an event at one of the primary schools in the city where he would have to stand by while the queen read to a group of first graders. He still didn't understand why he had been asked to go along with the company. Slowly he shook his head and threw the towel to the foot of his bed. He reached for the bottom drawer of his dresser and grabbed an old pair of track pants that he had inherited from one brother or another at some part of his life.
The knock startled him.
Throwing on the pants, he waited a beat to make sure that he hadn't been hearing things. There was a second knock, slow and tentative as the first, and he made his way across the room to the door. He didn't bother asking who was there, and the hallway was far to dark for him to accurately see through the peephole anyone that was on the other side of the oak, so he opened the door slowly, putting himself as an obstruction in the small opening that he left.
When the light from his room swept into the hall, he had to brace himself against taking a step backwards.
She was dressed simply, in what appeared to be a pair of yoga pants and a long jacket, with her hair pulled up off of her neck, and he dropped his arms dumbly to his side. Was it customary to bow?
"Michelle?" His voice was quiet, almost too much so, and he allowed himself the small step back so he could open the door a little wider. "What are you doing here?"
She smiled weakly, turning to nod to the captain of her guard that she was all right. "I couldn't sleep." She let herself into his small apartment and ran a hand over her face. "I was riding around the city and saw that your light was on." She turned in the room. "I'm sorry for the intrusion."
The door was shut behind her and David mirrored her smile. "It's not an intrusion." He tried to tell her, holding a hand out. "May I take your coat?"
She shrugged it off reluctantly, pulling the sleeves to her crocheted top down over her hands and turning to examine the room. "How's Ethan?" She asked him, groping for a topic other then what she was doing there in the middle of the night, as she took a step away from where he was hanging her coat on the doorknob to the small closet. Small talk may have been something she was well versed in, but tonight it escaped her.
"Not returning my calls." David moved into the small kitchen area, plucking two over sized mugs from the dish strainer and setting them next to the stove. He pulled the small tea kettle off of its hook above the sink and filled it with water, before setting it down on the stove and starting the burner. He smirked gently as he realized that he hadn't even asked her if she would like any tea. "My mother is keeping him busy on the farm, or so Daniel tells me." He laughed softly to himself. "He's the only one'll answer when I call home anymore."
"Your brother's trial is set for the end of next month." She moved closer to the kitchen and tried not to stare at his bare chest. "Your family's just rallying their support where they think it's needed." She placed her hand on his shoulder and allowed her eyes to lock with his. "They'll see that you were only doing what's best for him." Her hand slid down his arm and she frowned. "I'm planning on speaking on Ethan's behalf at his trial."
David nodded, watching as she wrapped her arms around herself. "So Thomasina keeps telling me." He touched the side of the pot hesitantly, wishing that the water would start to boil. It would give him something else to concentrate on other then the fact that the king's youngest child was standing in the middle of his apartment, dressed as if heading to bed. "She says that the fact that he saved your life just might save his." He didn't look up at her, keeping his eyes instead on the pot.
She was across the room before she could keep herself still, standing at his side, both on her hands resting on his bare skin. "It'll be okay." She told him slowly, pulling him into an awkward sideways hug. The pot abandoned, David turned in her arms and brought his hands up to rest at the small of her back. He buried his nose in the small crevice between her neck and shoulder, and her hands rubbed small circles in to the skin of his back.
When he pulled away, he ran his hands up her back to her shoulders and then to cup the back of her neck. "What are you doing here?" He asked quickly, keeping one hand lightly on the side of her face as he dropped his other hand and took a step back.
She nuzzled his hand slightly, not even aware that she was doing it until he almost pulled away. "I needed to get out." She told him honestly. "I felt like I was suffocating."
The kettle whistled and he turned and flipped off the burner. "Last I heard your father restricted you to the mansion."
"He's going to be pissed when he realizes I left." She admitted. "But I couldn't be alone."
"Jack's penthouse is closer to the palace." He poured water into each mug, dropping a tea bag into it once it was filled. "He – "
"I didn't want to stay with Jack." She huffed. "He and his boys are probably too busy anyway." She knew that if she were to have shown up and needed him, her brother would have cleared out his place for her, but she couldn't bear to have been seen as so needy in front of her brother's friends, or the companions that they would have undoubtedly chosen for the night. "I…" She accepted the mug from him and took a slow sip. "I wanted to see you." She said after a moment, surprising herself with the fact that it was true.
He laughed; a sweet and almost bitter sound all at once. "Me?" He asked as he took his own sip of tea. "Why would a princess want to see me?" He asked the room almost sourly.
"I feel safe with you." She admitted, setting her mug on the side of the counter. "You saved me in Prosperity."
"My brother saved you." He corrected.
She shook her head. "You put yourself between me and the gun." She reminded him. "If Ethan hadn't shot him you would have taken a bullet for me."
David smiled. "I did what any man would have done."
This time she smiled with him. "Are all soldiers as modest as you?" She asked, trying to stifle a yawn.
"Time for princesses to get back to their beds." He said instead of answering her. He set his mug aside and turned as if to collect her coat.
"I don't want to go back to the castle." She told him defiantly, struggling to hide another yawn. "Once I get back to my room I'll just want to leave it again."
He paused for a moment, before turning to the other side of the room and grabbing the abandoned towel off of the bed, flinging it into a waiting clothes hamper. "So stay with me." He decided, before turning back to her. "You can take the bed, I promise the sheets are clean, and I'll sleep on the couch."
"I'm not kicking you out of your bed." She announced, stealing another sip of her tea. "I'll take the couch."
"That's got to be against some state law."
"I'm not kicking you out of your bed." She repeated.
David smiled mischievously. "So we'll share the bed." He turned down the side away from the wall and nodded. When her eyes rose he winked at her. "You refuse to let me take the couch, and I'll sleep on the floor before I let you." His explanation seemed logical enough. "We're both adults," he yawned, "and both fairly tired."
"So you'll just share your bed with the princess?" She asked incredulously. "Why does this feel like some scandal in the making?"
"So call your guard in here." He offered, moving to the door. "They can take the couch and ensure your virtue."
His hand touched the doorknob just seconds before hers did, covering his. "My guard is perfectly fine in the hall." She told him quickly, knowing that the second he allowed Steven into the room neither one of them were sleeping in the bed. She would be carted off to the castle and he would probably be on his way to the jails for daring to compromise the princess's person. "How do I know that the second I climb into bed with you this won't wind up in the free press?"
"Your father owns the free press." David reminded her, leading her over to his bed. "And last time I checked I hated reporters nearly as much as you did."
"You work with reporters." She pointed out, turning her back to the bed.
He stepped a little too close to her and when she retreated her calves hit the mattress. "I promise I won't tell a soul." He said sincerely, holding his hand up for her in the old scout salute. "The only two people to know you were ever in my bed are here in this room." His eyes locked with hers and she shuttered absently.
Pulling her top lip between her teeth, she turned, climbing into the bed and across to the side closest to the wall. "I don't do this kind of thing every day." She told the room quietly, almost unsure if she was talking to herself.
David slid into the bed behind her, flipping off the light. "Your secrets safe with me." He told the back of her head, curling onto his side and laying his hand down next to hers, their fingers almost touching.
When she closed her eyes, sleep came immediately.
If anyone reads this, please let me know. I've got a second part in mind I'm just not sure if I should continue.
