Disclaimer: I do not own the copyright for Waking the dead or its characters – all rights belong to the BBC
Content: Boyd and Grace
Rating: K
Thanks, as ever, for taking the time to read. A special thank you to Joodiff for being extremely patient and a genius Beta.
Be Sure Your Sins …
Boyd's eyes opened suddenly, his heart sinking as slowly he began to focus on his surroundings. Unfamiliar surroundings. The stale taste of whiskey in his mouth was as bitter as poison. A poison he drank without fully acknowledging or accepting the consequences. He closed his eyes again, trying to shut out the light. The world. He wasn't ready to face it, not yet.
Music from the previous evening drifted into his consciousness, ringing accusingly in his ears. Music and whiskey, both accomplices to the situation he now found himself in. Too much bloody whiskey, he thought ominously as he attempted to ignore the incessant pounding in his head. Music. Whiskey. And her. An intoxicating combination at the best of times but given how things had been lately it had proved to be devastatingly lethal.
Her call had been a surprise. 'For old times' sake,' she'd said, 'just a friendly drink...' He couldn't leave it. Couldn't walk away. She was a beautiful woman and he was a man who enjoyed the rush of flirtation and the attention of women. And she was... unfinished business. He couldn't walk away. Not from her.
The bar was her choice; low light, soft rock music almost too loud but just about managing to stay on the right side of acceptable. It's wasn't the kind of place Boyd normally frequented, preferring instead the wine bars in Chelsea but he'd liked the place. It was different and off the beaten track. There was no chance of them being recognised there.
Boyd noticed her immediately, her form contrasting greatly with her surroundings. He felt himself smile as he watched her. Perfectly tailored in a fitted dark grey business skirt and cream silk blouse, she conversed easily with the barman while drinking beer straight from the bottle. She'd always been a contradiction; for as long as he'd known her she'd never been what he expected. It excited him. She excited him.
Boyd approached the bar. "Whiskey please, and whatever the lady is having."
"Another of these please," she answered, motioning to her bottle before turning to look at him. "Hello, Boyd... it's good to see you again."
"Hi, Sarah." He smiled fondly as he rested himself on the bar stool opposite.
"You look well... Have you been working out?"
"Oh piss off..." Boyd guffawed as he lifted his whiskey to his lips. "You, on the other hand, look just as stunning as ever." Such a dangerous game to play. So very dangerous.
"You see, that's the problem with you Brits. Never know how to take a compliment, but are so skilled in giving them. Gets me into trouble every time."
"You and me both... So what has you back in London then?"
"Work."
"Ah. Still with Mossad?"
Sarah nodded causing her brunette hair to fall loosely around her face. She tucked it slowly behind her ear. Yes, so very dangerous.
"Anything you want to talk about?"
"Can't. It's... erm… sensitive."
He nodded in understanding. "How long are you here for?"
"Only a couple of days. I fly back to New York on Monday."
"It really is good to see you, you know." He meant it. God help him, Boyd meant it.
"Well I couldn't be in town and not call." Sarah's eyes fell away from him as she continued, "Anyway I needed to apologise for the last time we spoke..."
Boyd waved his hand dismissively. "Forget it."
"I don't want to forget it. I wasn't there when you needed me, it was inexcusable..."
"You had work commitments; I knew that."
"No, it wasn't just work. I didn't know how to handle it. How to handle you. You were hurting, and even though I was back in New York, just speaking with you brought back memories."
"Of losing John?"
Sarah nodded gently in reply.
"Look you don't need to explain it was a long time ago..."
She interrupted, "It's hard to know the man you loved is broken and yet you feel helpless to help. Your pain… It was so raw and it reminded me of how much I'd been hurt. I couldn't bear to go through it again so it was easier to push you away."
"In case I ended up hurting you too...?"
Again she nodded. "I couldn't take the chance."
Boyd allowed the silence to pass over them for a few moments. At the time he had been so consumed with the loss of Luke he hadn't had the energy to even consider Sarah or her feelings. The distance between them had made it easier to move on, to forget the time they had together. Seeing her again tonight made it painfully obvious that he'd never fully managed to forget her, or how she could make him feel.
He ordered another round of drinks and they retreated to a table in the corner of the bar. The drinks flowed liberally for the rest of the evening just as their conversation flowed easily. Two old friends making up for lost time. He felt relaxed. For the first time in months he wasn't waiting for his life to erupt, wasn't tiring himself out from walking on eggshells until he finally lost patience and trampled all over them. No more apologies. No stress. Just fond memories.
So very dangerous.
"It's getting late, I'd better grab a cab."
"Where are you staying?" he asked.
"Hilton Kensington."
"Okay; well we can share a taxi if you want. I can drop you off on the way home."
As the taxi drew alongside the hotel Sarah turned towards him.
"I had a good time tonight."
Boyd allowed her soft American accent to wash over him, the alcohol mellowing his mood.
"I did too; thanks for getting in touch, it was good to see you again."
"We had some good times, you and I, didn't we?"
Boyd smiled gently. Immediately the atmosphere between them changed, no longer was this about the past. She had the same look in her eyes as she'd had the day they sat on that bench in New York and she'd kissed him for the first time, but this was very much about the present. Right here. Now. And right now Boyd wanted her. more than anything else, he wanted her.
His hand brushed against hers but rather than remove it he allowed it to linger, their fingers playfully interlocked. Slowly Sarah inclined her head until her mouth was inches from his. He closed the gap without hesitation, kissing her unreservedly. When she got out of the cab there had been no discussion about whether he would follow; both of them had known there was no doubt that he would. He reached across and paid the driver then followed her into the entrance of the hotel.
The room had minimal lighting heightening the mood. Sarah moved closer, her eyes never leaving his. Boyd knew what she wanted. What they both wanted. Slowly her hands began to open the buttons on his shirt leaving his chest bare. Painted nails traced a path between his chest and his waist leaving faint red marks on his skin as seductively she allowed her hands to wander. Her lips followed the trail her hands had made, tongue playfully enticing him.
He should have stopped it right then. Should have re-buttoned his shirt and left. But he was lost. Lost in her and the familiar feeling she was igniting inside him. They had been good together. She was a woman who knew what she wanted and wasn't afraid to take it. His weakness had always been strong women.
He should have stopped it, but he didn't. Instead he lifted her head so her face met his. Hungrily his lips claimed hers. He didn't think about his actions, didn't want to think. He just wanted her. Needed her.
The morning light was a harsh accuser. He should have walked away last night. But he hadn't. The pounding in his head grew louder, each thump driving another nail into his self-made coffin. His stomach turned. Too much whiskey and the scent of her still on his skin.
He felt a stirring against his back as her arm snaked around his waist. He tightened his closed eyes as she kissed his shoulder gently. Slowly he turned over.
"Hi..." he smiled gently.
"Good morning, you okay?"
Boyd groaned. "Bloody headache ..."
Sarah laughed. "You did put it away last night."
"I wasn't the only one if memory serves me right."
"And yet I don't appear to be suffering as much as you."
"Give a man a break, eh?"
Sarah smiled again, leaning in to softly kiss him.
Boyd hesitated. "I should go ..."
"You don't want breakfast?"
"Erm ... I ... I really should make a move," he answered awkwardly as he rolled away from her.
"Can't wait to get away, huh?"
"No, it's not that," he lied turning back to look at her. "I just have some things to do. I wasn't exactly planning to stay over."
"It's okay, Boyd, we're grown-ups. I don't need hearts and flowers and promises of forever."
Boyd got to his feet, locating his clothes. He could feel her eyes burning into his back. Appraising him. Not usually a self-conscious man, this was new territory for him. He needed to get dressed and get out. To clear his head and work out what the bloody hell he can do next. Pulling on his trousers and shirt he walked into the adjoining bathroom. Running the cold water he bent over the sink and splashed his face but no matter how many times the water hit him he couldn't erase the feeling of foreboding that weighed heavily around him. He caught glimpse of his reflection in the mirror and venomously cursed his weakness.
When he returned Sarah was out of bed and wrapped only in a hotel robe.
"So this is it then... again."
Boyd nodded his head in acknowledgement.
"It was good to see you again, Peter." She reached up and brushed her lips across his.
"Goodbye, Sarah..."
The noise of the front door closing behind him reverberated around Boyd's skull. He leant his weight momentarily against the wall in the hallway. He needed time to think, time to wade through the fog that's polluted his mind. Sighing forlornly he closed his eyes. Flash-backs to the previous evening came back to him in unstoppable waves provoking his guilt. Her touch. The way she'd wanted him. The way she made him feel. It'd been a long time since it was so easy to let go. No thinking, no apologies, just raw primitive sex. For a few hours he'd been happy to forget his life and responsibilities until the dawn when reality began to seep through his consciousness and taunt him about what he'd done. He would have given everything to have woken in his own bed that morning, having wisely retreated the night before. Foolish, foolish, weak man.
The shower was hot, almost too hot for his skin but he needed to wash her from him. He lost track of time as he stood under the flow of water. He was tired. Mentally and physically. It had been a tough few weeks - months if he was honest. Emotions being pushed one way then pulled another. He's tired of the fight. It's all he's known. He'd dreamed it would be different but deep down he knew this was how it was fated to be.
The knock at his door was not unexpected. He'd known she would come... eventually. Sighing deeply he opened the door to the elements and to her. His eyes searched hers in a bid to discern the mood between them. She smiled lightly. "Hi."
"Hi, Grace..."
"Am I forgiven yet?"
Boyd shrugged dismissively. "You were the one who stormed off home ..."
"I know, and I'm sorry. You know how we are when we argue. Sometimes we just need a bit of space between us..."
He took a steading breath. "Come in..." He motioned with his head for her to follow him and closed the door behind them.
Grace paused, placing her arms around his waist as she rested her head against his chest. "I really am sorry you know. I hate it when we fight."
Boyd's arms tightened around her. Her body felt so fragile in his arms. He was supposed to protect her, prevent her from being hurt; instead he's the one who will deal the most devastating of blows. Betrayal.
Remorse once again rose from his depths as he closed his eyes. He knew what he should do, but also knew what it would mean. Slowly Grace lifted her head and found his lips with her own. Boyd's heart constricted, choked by the weight of his guilt. He deepened the kiss knowing that it would be one of the last times he held her like this. When he finally tells her, things will never be the same again...
tbc ….