A/N: Hello everybody, here I am with a new story. The basic idea was given to me by Gracebe - only, it might not end up being what she had in mind. Still, I hope you all enjoy it. Extra thanks go to Shadowsamurai83 for the beta. I'd also like to note that ever though a few things might look - originally - as being similar to CatS81's brilliant story "Underneath Your Clothes," I'm going off on a completely different tangent here.
Shadow also said to place a warning, so I warn about choking, no eating and drinking and everything else.
Other than that - just read and enjoy.
Title: Nobody Move
Rating: T and above.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything that you recognise from the show. I make no money from it and I only write to amuse myself and my readers.
Summary: Grace and Boyd attend a lavish party at the Commissioner's behest. Undercover. It can only go downhill from there.
Nobody Move
Part I
"Remind me again, why am I doing this?" Grace Foley ground out petulantly as she fiddled with the object in her hands. She felt uncomfortable enough as it was with the swath of clothes surrounding her body. As much as she liked to dress up every now and then, it was highly uncomfortable squeezing yourself and several extra yards of material first inside a coat and then into a car seat. Especially in a car that was so small and so sporty that no normal person could sit comfortably in it. Besides, she still had a lump in her stomach thinking about how much her new dress had cost.
"Because our dear ACC thinks you have such a scintillating personality that you can easily outshine my grouchy disposition and become the life of the party where you and I are supposed to investigate undercover." The man at the wheel made no real attempt to placate her. In fact, he enjoyed her discomfort too much to interrupt her complaints. And, though he didn't say it out loud, he was looking forward to see what the bulky coat of his companion hid.
She knew he was riling her up and under different circumstances she would have called him on it, but his behaviour gave her an excuse to grumble on and she intended to make the most of it. "I'm sure there was a compliment hidden in there, but it would take too much effort to search for it." Shaking her head, she heaved a theatrical sigh and stared out of the window into the evening traffic. At least it wasn't raining and thus, the new dress would not be ruined immediately.
"I'm practicing for those artsy-fartsy types we'll have to stomach tonight. You know, throw around empty and fake compliments." Focussing on the traffic, he saw neither the short grimace crossing Grace's face nor the unconscious brush of her hands over her clothes. "And those exalted voices and air kisses and such. It's going to be a nightmare."
"Boyd!" Grace interrupted him with raised eyebrows. "It's my turn to complain."
His laughter resounded in the confined space of their rental car and he made an allowing gesture. "Wouldn't dream of stopping you, Grace."
Grace had some difficulty getting out of the low seats of the sporty Mercedes and shook her head at design. She was still in a grumbling mood, and the idea of her and Boyd having to act like a couple of obscure, but wealthy publishers didn't appeal to her at all. His descriptions of what the other guests of this party would be like weren't too far off her own worst fears. She was trying to keep an open mind about it, but it wasn't easy.
Boyd's solid presence steadied her as she overbalanced on her high heels, his hands gently grasping her upper arms as she swayed. "Easy," he whispered strangely gently. The moment lingered as Grace didn't pull back right away. He smelled good, that special cologne, she realized.
"Mr. Parker!" A man in brightly coloured clothes was marching in their direction. "And Mrs. Parker too," he exclaimed in delight.
Both Grace and Boyd barely held in a groan.
"I'm so pleased you could make it to my little party here," the man continued with a bright smile. "I'm always happy to make new acquaintances and we have so many things in common, we just had to meet at some point. I'm Miles Rockton, but please, you must call me Miles!"
For all purposes, the man looked as if he might clap his hands in glee, almost making the couple laugh.
"It's our pleasure to have been invited, Sir Miles," Grace ventured forth, extending her hand which the man took with almost childlike softness.
"And we are impressed. Throwing such lavish parties in such posh places might be considered a bit of an extravaganza these days," Boyd continued. "Boyd Parker, by the way. And this is...."
Sir Miles chuckled. "I know, I know. Your breathtaking wife. And how can she not be?" The man beamed. "Marrying her before anybody else could do it might have been one of your smartest decisions ever. Business and otherwise." The last words were muttered under a conspiring breath as Rockton leaned close over their clasped hands.
He then turned and all but pulled the couple towards the entrance of the elegant house, before Boyd or Grace could contradict his incorrect assumption about their relationship. With Grace's hand tucked in the crook of Rockton's arm, she had little chance of saying or doing anything, so she just tried to go along as it went, giving Boyd a grimace over her shoulder as he followed.
"It might look a little lavish when everybody is talking about a crisis, Boyd. I may call you Boyd, may I? We are all just friends here after all," Rockton continued in a cheery voice that the policeman knew would get down on his last nerve quickly. "But you'll find that I simply love to enjoy myself. And you need to give yourself enjoyable things so you don't forget how to do it."
"That sounds like the right approach to life," Grace agreed with a smile as they entered the house.
As she turned to give Boyd a gentle warning to behave, he shook his head and mouthed, "Mental!"
Upon entering the brightly lit building they had been requested to put on their masks, which in hindsight might have been the saving grace of the evening in Boyd's eyes. Hidden by these ridiculous masks, nobody could see his constant frown.
Sometimes he wondered what else would come his way in the course of the job. Going undercover to scout out possible industrial espionage or worse, the ACC hadn't been too specific on the matter, was one thing, but having to do it at some masked ball, where people spoke in high-pitched voices and called each other 'darling' to their faces and 'bitch' to their behinds, was more than pushing it. He wasn't some hoity-toity good weather and clean suits copper. He was working on the real things, the real crimes.
At a party of the upper crust, Body did not only feel horribly out of place, he was also sure that at during the time he wasted here, he could have accomplished much more by pushing papers around on his desk.
But since this was a command performance....
At least everybody was dressed in either black or white as the invitation had required, letting people blur into each other. Only the host stood out, in his lavish silver-pink outfit.
Why he and Grace had been ordered to show up and investigate, Boyd couldn't fathom. Neither Rockton nor his company, or any of the people they had encountered so far, was connected to any case they had investigated in the past. Nobody was connected to their current cases either. The ACC had just ordered them to go, mentioning that the order came from the office of the Commissioner.
No further questions had been allowed.
So, Boyd found himself in the middle of an extravagantly decorated and furnished room, sipping expensive champagne, which was a small but gratefully accepted one favour, looking out for Grace.
While he felt like a fish out of water, she seemed to enjoy herself to the max. Her laughter, which he would recognise among thousands of people, rang out in the room, making him turn in that direction. Nobody laughed like Grace.
Irrational feelings surged up in him as he saw her leaning close to some indistinguishable man in a tuxedo. The mask notwithstanding, Boyd could see the man's eyes focussed on her cleavage, not her face as she spoke.
Granted, that was some spectacular cleavage she showed, the entire dress leaving little to the imagination, and he knew he was staring too, had been doing so all night.
Even now, he couldn't stop himself and crossed the room to stand beside her, his hands settling possessively on her waist. Grace started a little, but quickly recovered and leaned slightly back against him.
Boyd could feel her sway a little, the champagne probably being a bit stronger than she had anticipated, but on a private level it made him smile to be sort of her protector, and on a strictly professional level....
"What's so funny?" he asked quietly.
Grace shot around a little at the question, vertigo setting in for a moment. She should really ease up on the champagne. They were here on the job, and though they were rarely sent on such posh assignments, they were still expected to bring back results. It wouldn't do for her to be drunk and possibly blow their cover of a respectable - married - couple of publishers.
"Evan, here," she enunciated the words with the same gleeful enthusiasm the other guests did and Boyd momentarily squeezed her waist to bring her back to focus, "was just telling me about this party in Nice last month. It seems we missed the party of the year there." She sighed theatrically. "Such a shame we missed it."
"Oh yeees. It was an incredible thing. The champagne in the pool and the candles swimming in it. Marvellous."
Even with the masks in place, the androgyny of "Evan" was obvious in the way he talked and was dressed. Boyd swallowed a scathing comment, but before he could say anything the other man had turned away to enthusiastically embrace and kiss another man.
Seemingly alone in the masses of people, Grace let out a sigh and turned in Boyd's arms. She expected him to loosen his touch, let her go, but he kept his hands firmly on her waist, before slipping them further around her body. Somebody stumbled into her from behind, pushing her further into the embrace, and suddenly Grace found herself flush against Boyd's front.
"Boyd?" she asked uncertainly, her eyes wide and questioning. He could see it, despite the mask, and leaned further down.
"Do I need to be worried about you, Grace?"
His breath brushed over her cheek, making her shiver. Not the best thing when the dress was tight and the material smooth and thin, she decided. Boyd would have to be completely physically insensible to miss her reaction. "What do you mean?" Her question came out on a breath.
"Have you kept a truly posh High Society-lady hidden from me all those years?"
Grace stared at him for a moment, a frown marring her features. But then she threw her head back and laughed. Boyd couldn't help it and chuckled along. She simply had the most infectious laugh.
The action brought her body into closer contact with his, if that was even possible, startling him and making him very aware of her curves pressed against him. Lost in the momentary indulgence, he missed her leaning closer until her breath fluttered against his skin, the warmth of her lips close to his ears. "No. Star of the university drama group."
Before Boyd could reply, Grace had pushed away from him and moved back into the crowd.
Standing in the middle of the room while around him mayhem reigned, Boyd heaved a sigh and rolled his eyes. For a few moments he had almost forgotten where they were, oblivious to the noise, to all but her, if he was honest. She was already engaged in another lively conversation, charming the wits out of a few other guys. From the looks of it, it wouldn't take much to achieve it, but Boyd didn't like it. Searching for a waiter, he signalled for another glass.
"That was a complete waste of time!" Boyd complained loudly as they were once again settled in the car and on the way back to London. It was after two in the morning and the M4 was fairly empty, giving him the chance to pull as much as possible out of the rented Mercedes.
"Hmm, the champagne was good. And some of the food too." In the passenger's seat, Grace tried to bury herself in her coat as much as possible. Despite her reluctance to go, she'd had a surprisingly good time, maybe because she made sure to ignore the airheadedness of some of the guests. And it had been fun for her to employ some of her old skills. Now, however, she was tired and cold and desperately hoping for a lie in come morning.
"Not good enough. It was a complete waste. We've got no tangible information out of anybody. Or," he turned and gave her a teasing smile, "did you charm a confession out of somebody?"
She snorted indelicately in reply. "I know it's your turn to complain, Boyd, but there's no need to insult me when I'm half-asleep."
Chuckling in reply, he shook his head at her before turning his attention back to the road. "You are slipping, Grace," he teased. "You let me bitch around just like that?"
"What would you say if I admitted that your bitching provides the background noise to my deep thoughts about the information we have gathered tonight?"
"Ouch."
Grace laughed in reply. "You did ask."
"You can really wound a man, Dr. Foley."
"You can take it. You even took the party in stride and so far with a fairly low amount of complaint. I am impressed. Trying out a new you?"
"No, I figured I'll find out more easily why the AAC insisted we go to this party if I play along."
"And?"
Boyd snorted and pushed more strongly against the accelerator. "It was a waste of time. While there might have been the odd thing that could bear investigating, nothing poses an elementary threat to the law. Obnoxiousness is, unfortunately, not a crime yet."
Grace pressed further into her seat at the increased speed of the car, but suppressed her smile. "There were a few interesting characters. Evan, for example."
"Evan?!" Boyd's incredulous voice resounded in the confined space, making his companion wince at the volume. "Seriously, what does anybody find attractive in dressing and behaving like that?"
"Not man enough for you?"
"Oh please... What could be interesting about that guy?"
"Oh not much, I guess. Only that I overheard at least three people speaking about the sum he'll be offered for his new book. Apparently, the title will be a hot seller and competition for printing rights is high. And expensive." She chuckled and pushed herself up a little further.
"It would probably drive me to tears."
"It would make the team as a whole cry."
"Thought so. Anybody else whom you charmed for information?" Despite the gruff tone, Grace could see that his words weren't an accusation, but rather an attempt to keep the back and forth going. It surprised her a little, they hadn't been so relaxed with each other for a while. Teasing and nagging each other in a friendly way seemed to have gone to the wayside after Mel. And after Felix and after...so many things.
"There was this couple, she is something in advertising, he's a barrister. Now, be glad you didn't run into them." She snorted and shook her head. "They'd qualify as obnoxious. Both connected to Rockton, I'm just not sure how exactly. They glossed that over while telling me how brilliant they are."
"See, I knew you'd see my point."
"There was hardly a chance for me not to see it. If I didn't know better, I would have called the entire party an act for our benefit. But...." Grace shrugged again and heaved a theatrical sigh. It seemed, after all, to be the theme of the evening.
"But?" Boyd prodded gently and lightly placed his hand on her thigh. Both registered the touch as soon as it happened, shivers sparking from it.
Grace looked at the hand on her thigh, then at the man next to her. "But?....Do you really think anybody high up in the Met has that much sense of humour?"
THank you for reading. Comments would be greatly appreciated.