Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me, everything to the BBC
Summary: Set immediately after S9 'Conviction' – Grace and Boyd share an intimate moment.
A/N: This is my first attempt at a WtD fic and the first time in years that I've written something I am half way happy with… so I guess I am asking you to be gentle.
A big thank you to Geminied for being my beta. Any mistakes left are entirely my own!
The Still of the Night
He woke to the feeling of soft fingers caressing his bruised cheek. It was a nice way to wake, he decided and kept his eyes closed a little longer. He knew whose hand was softly stroking his cheek and the knowledge filled him with deep contentment.
She couldn't resist when she had seen him lying on his couch, the exhaustion of the last couple of the days finally catching up with him. When he had walked into the headquarters yesterday, his face battered and bruised, she had barely been able to keep herself from rushing to him and fussing. But she knew him; she knew that he wouldn't appreciate her concern at that point. He had been abducted and beaten and for Boyd that equalled a declaration of war. Testosterone had pumped through his body, his mind focussed on getting justice – not for himself, but for Carl, who he knew now had been brutally murdered by British Intelligence Services. So she had stepped aside, had merely acknowledged his return with a soft smile and allowed him to storm through the unit barking orders.
But tonight she didn't need to keep up the pretence. They were the last member of the unit left. Sarah had left rather early, claiming to have an important meeting. Spence and Eve went shortly after, both needing a drink after the latest case. Grace hadn't been sure whether Boyd was still in his office, but she decided to check – just to be sure. When she saw him lying there, not even his sleep offering him the peace and relief he needed after the dissatisfying results of the day, her body and her hand had somehow taken a life of their own. She had quietly wandered over to the couch he lay on and gently caressed his face – allowing the relief she felt over his rescue to engulf her once more.
He didn't want the moment to end, the calm it provided, but more than anything he wanted to be able to look at her. So he slowly opened his eyes, and was barely able to suppress his smile as he caught the panicked and embarrassed look on her face. She immediately began to withdraw and get up – obviously trying to put some distance between them. Without really thinking about it, he grabbed her arm and forced her to sink back onto the couch. He couldn't help a slow smile spreading on his lips as he took in the slight blush on her cheeks. She was desperately trying to avoid looking at him and Boyd was quietly weighing his options.
She was surprised when he caught her arm and forced her to sink back onto the couch. Still, she couldn't bear to look at him– afraid of what he might find written in her eyes. She was even more surprised when she felt him tugging her hand again. Finally forced to look at him, she searched his obsidian eyes for answers.
He had given her hand a slight tug. Enough to make sure she understood the invitation, but gentle enough not to lose face should she choose to ignore it. He tried to gauge her reaction and felt immense relief spreading in his body when she finally rewarded him with a gentle smile. He also caught her insecure look as she tried to figure out how to squeeze her body next to his on the small couch. He quickly released her hand and began to remove the backrest cushions.
She felt her face blushing again as he suddenly noticed her insecurities. When he had finished putting the cushions away, he moved his body backwards to make room for her. Before she gave herself the chance to change her mind, she lay down next to him, her head resting on his forearm, as he hugged her close to him. She knew that this wasn't the moment to ask questions about his objective in all of this, or her intentions when she had decided to come looking for him. For a few moments there was a content silence as he held her and her head rested in the crook of his arm. She was happy to simply listen to his calm breathing.
He marvelled at the feeling of holding her in his arms. He couldn't quite tell when their relationship had begun changing from friendship to something more – this something more unlike anything he had ever experienced with another woman. It lacked the sexual ferociousness that usually came with his relationships, but made up for it with a kind of intimacy and understanding that Boyd had never experienced before. He couldn't see her face, but hoped that it sported the same content smile that he knew his face did.
"How are you?" Grace couldn't quite stop the psychologist from breaking through. Their last case had been difficult for him – the result less than satisfactory. She simply wanted to let him know that she was there should he feel the need to talk about it. His snort immediately answered her question and she felt a smile tugging at her lips at his reaction. Some things never changed.
"I am…," he broke off, contemplating what to say, "pissed off."
She knew that pushing him further wouldn't yield any results. Him admitting that he was angry was better than him having put off any discussion by claiming he was fine.
"And your head?"
"My head is fine… how's yours?" He subconsciously drew her closer to him. The shock of her collapsing in the hallway was not quite overcome, even if she had been back to work for a while now.
"Mine's fine, too," she replied, putting a hand to his chest and drawing invisible patterns on it. Even though his visit at the hospital had come late and was distinctly shorter than the visits of the other team members, she knew how worried he had been – how glad he was now that she was alright.
They fell silent again, no more words necessary - content to just hold each other. Grace closed her eyes and even though a myriad of questions was swirling through her mind, she forced herself to be satisfied with what she had at that moment. She wouldn't analyse all of this right now – sometime, certainly, but not right now.
She didn't know how much time had passed, but she heard his breathing even out eventually. His hand had moved to cover hers on top of his chest. It was incredibly tempting to give in to the temptation of falling asleep like this – with him, together – but a little voice in her head told her that she would regret it. Not just because her back would undoubtedly kill her in the morning, but also because there were still too many things left unspoken between them.
With a heavy heart she pushed herself into a sitting position and smiled fondly at the growl he gave in response to her actions.
He opened his eyes most unwillingly. His side, against which she had been pressed moments earlier, felt strangely cool and abandoned. His gaze locked with hers and the sheer number of emotions shining in her clear blue eyes took his breath away.
"I don't think it's wise for us to do this," Grace said simply, leaving it to him to interpret what she meant by that.
His only response was a groan of displeasure as he also slowly got up into a sitting position next to her. He knew that she was right, of course. As nice as this interlude had been, it wasn't enough. For him it might have been, but it wasn't for her and he respected that.
"Maybe you're right," he acquiesced. He looked at her just in time to see disappointment flicker briefly through her eyes. "For now at least," he quickly added and was satisfied to see her eyes regain some of the light that had shone in them earlier.
She nodded quietly; knowing that this was as far as they were going to get in their discussion of whatever it was that was between them at that moment in time.
He slowly got up from the couch and winced as his knees and spine popped. He really was getting old. He held a hand out to her and smiled gently and encouragingly. She responded with a soft smile of her own as she allowed him to pull her up from the couch.
"Good night, Boyd," she said softly, signalling him that she wouldn't push him on what had transpired between them that night.
"I'll see you tomorrow," Boyd replied, resisting the urge to kiss her – if only on the cheek.
She quickly turned around and left the office before she was able to do something she might regret in the morning and that might jeopardize the tentative closeness between them. But she did allow the flickers of hope that she had kept buried in her chest for so many years now to blossom again – strengthened by the happenings of the night and the promise they held.
Thank your for reading. Reviews would be appreciated ;-)