DISCLAIMER: I own nothing.
A/N: This short and random act of eccentricity is all Got Tea's fault. Honest.
Fringe Benefits
by Joodiff
"You did what?" gasps Grace, reaching out to clutch at the back of the nearest kitchen chair.
Boyd regards her with what she can only describe as complacent imperturbability. One dark eyebrow lifts a quizzical fraction. "Well, you did say you'd never – "
"No," she says, all sorts of disastrous scenarios appearing fully-formed in her mind. She shakes her head, treats him to a fierce no-nonsense scowl. "No, Boyd. No."
"You'll enjoy it."
"I won't," she snaps back, aware that she sounds rather too much like a sulky child. "In what universe could you possibly imagine that I'd enjoy – "
"Grace." He paces towards her, ignoring the crackling tension that would halt anyone else in their tracks long before they got anywhere near the boundaries of her personal space. But she doesn't fall back, doesn't give ground. It might, or might not, be a mistake. Suddenly there's only a scant few inches of space separating them, and he's gazing down at her with that same placid, slightly smug expression. "Trust me."
Her response is an immediate, "Not if my life depended on it; not until you call them and cancel the whole thing."
"It doesn't work like that. This is one of those favour for a favour deals, and believe me, it's going to cost me in the long run. Get your coat, we're going right now."
"That's what you think." His expression changes, and if it wasn't for the stubborn glint of mischief in his dark eyes, she'd definitely feel her heart-strings being tugged. Refusing to be so easily swayed, she says, "Don't look at me like that."
"Like what?"
"And don't play the innocent, it really doesn't suit you."
He smiles. That's all. He simply smiles.
She hates him. Only she doesn't, of course. It's stupid, unwise, and wholly inappropriate, but the truth is, however exasperating he can be, however difficult, bad-tempered, brusque, and deliberately cussed he can be, she adores him. In the kind of wry, self-aware sort of way that enables her to sleep at night. And that smile… That ridiculously enchanting smile has quite a lot to do with why she didn't long ago slam the front door in his face.
Wanting him to hear it, Grace sighs. "Oh, for heaven's sake…"
She knows he knows he's won. Can see it in the way his stance changes by a subtle fragment to become conciliatory. "You will enjoy it, you know, Grace."
She very much doubts it. She glares up at him. "So you say. Why do you always have to be so impulsive? Just because I make an off-hand remark…"
"Think of the fringe benefits."
"What fringe benefits?" she challenges.
"I look very good in riding boots."
That hadn't occurred to her. Nor had… "Jodhpurs."
Boyd's grin is fleeting, but no less heart-stopping because of it. "Trust me, the world isn't quite ready to see that, Grace."
"Riding breeches…?"
"Naturally."
She lets the vivid image in her head settle for a moment. Suddenly she isn't thinking about the dreary weather, or the fact that she's always been told that horses kick at one end and bite at the other. Suddenly she's wondering what else she can achieve by merely dropping the odd few words here and there into idle conversation. The possibilities are endless…
Riding boots. Breeches.
All her Christmases have arrived at once. And he bloody knows it, too. But that's okay.
"Fetch my coat," she orders, her tone imperious, "and let's get this nonsense over with."
How hard can it possibly be, after all? Any idiot can ride a horse… can't they?
Riding boots.
Boyd is still grinning when he returns from the hallway with her coat.
- the end -
It's still Got Tea's fault. I was struggling to
write a single word, and so she gave me the opening line
and challenged me to 400 words in 20 minutes. It's not 400,
and it took 45, but hey... ;)
- Joodiff