Not sure I'm still entirely happy with this but for now it's done. Just a little piece of fluff.
Title: Taking A Risk
Pairing: Grace/Boyd
Rating: K
Summary: A short cut, a knight in shining armour and would be teenagers.
Spoilers: Nothing specific. Set sometime in the nine series.
Disclaimer: Alas Boyd and Grace belong to the BBC, so I play a little, sometimes a lot, but do not own them or receive financial gain.
Taking A Risk
Grace turned up the radio, allowing the soft strains to soothe her, as she turned into the side road leaving a queue of traffic behind her. The night hadn't been quite what she had anticipated or needed and part of her wished she'd had the forethought to phone and cancel earlier in the day, instead of enduring yet another first date disaster. It wasn't her first choice either to be driving down a lonely lane but she was low on petrol and definitely didn't want to sit for hours using up what she had left. All being well, she'd be home in bed in thirty minutes. Which is why when she heard the bang, and felt the initial shudder, her heart sank into her stomach. The car lurched, she swerved, and it was then she remembered that she had yet to renew her AA membership. Her foot continued to press frantically on the accelerator, willing the car to make it home but the sinking feeling intensified as the car slowed to a halt. Grace turned the key, hoping that the engine would restart, but instead she was treated to a dispelling silence. A momentary panic set in as she envisioned all the things that could happen; no-one knew where she was, there was no-one waiting at home for her and she had worked with the police long enough to know the statistics.
She swore and slapped her hand on the dashboard, before reaching into her bag and pulling out her phone. There was a momentary pause as she debated the sense in what she was about to do, but when it came down to it there was no one else, or at least that was scenario she created to calm her nerves.
The phone rang for what seemed like an eternity, and then she heard it, distinctive and gruff.
"Boyd."
"Hi Boyd, it's Grace."
"Hi." He sounded hesitant, almost uncomfortable in his tone, and she wondered if she was interrupting something.
"Sorry, am I disturbing you?"
Peter Boyd cleared his throat, and tucked the empty tumbler and bottle of Bells in his drawer. "Nothing that can't wait. Are you okay?"
She laughed nervously. "I've hit a bit of a snag." A slight understatement she concluded, but one that would delay the shouting for a least a little while.
"Need me to post bail or run a check on your date?" he asked, his tone now one of amusement.
"I took a side road to avoid traffic and the damn car . . ." Grace trailed off.
"Died again?" Boyd asked, unable to stifle a throaty laugh, fully aware of the inadequacies of the car she refused to part with.
"Yes," she replied in a tone that left him under no allusions that she was less than impressed. "Is there any way you can come get me?"
He smiled, teasing, "like a knight in shining armour?"
Grace rolled her eyes in the knowledge that she would somehow end up paying for her misfortune later. "If it makes you happy, then yes."
"I need to get dressed." A little white lie, he decided, was better than telling her where he really was and facing her wrath for breaking a promise
An image flashed before Grace's eyes, then another, and she felt herself blush.
"Tell me where you are, lock all the doors and keep your phone in your hand," he instructed firmly as he searched his desk for a pen and paper. "I will be there as soon as I can."
Grace checked the doors, centrally locking them before she pushed back her seat. Outside it was dark, the only movement that of the hedgerow in the wind. It was less than inviting but she knew she had to put out the triangle. She tried her hazard lights but nothing happened. Begrudgingly, she unlocked the drivers door, checked up and down the lane and then walked to the boot to take out the triangle. She climbed back in the car less than a minute later and locked the door.
Twenty-five minutes later she saw the bright lights in her rear view mirror and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. She waited, her eyes fixed on the lights, her hand rooting in her bag, as the car came to a halt in front of her. Grace noted with a smile and small satisfaction that he was still wearing the same suit he had been wearing three hours before.
"You were still at the office?" she asked, knowing for sure that's where he had been.
Boyd cringed, wondering when they had become as predictable as an old married couple. A denial played on his lips but the look on her face told him it was futile. "Tying up loose ends." He opened her door further. "You okay?" he asked, his tone uncustomarily soft and concerned.
"Yep." She placed her feet on the ground, suddenly aware of her stocking clad legs and two inch heels. "Thank you, Boyd, for doing this."
His eyes made their way up her legs, skirting over the form fitting dress he knew she hadn't been wearing earlier to her face.
The blush returned as he appraised her, the look on his face one that she hadn't seen in a long time.
"I couldn't leave you stranded. You got your bag?" he croaked, clearing his throat and turning away.
"I need the box in the boot." Grace took a step in that direction but he was defter.
Boyd motioned for her to open the boot and he lifted out the box, slamming the lid a little too hard, shaking the car. Box safely stowed, he watched as she locked the car and walked towards him. "Done?"
"I'm coming," she muttered, climbing in beside him. "You got a hot date or something?"
He turned to look at her, his expression deadpan. "I thought this was a hot date."
"In your dreams, Boyd," she laughed, shaking her head.
If only, he thought to himself, wondering what her reaction would be if he ever plucked up the courage to tell her about his dreams. Not that he ever would. "You chastise me too much in my dreams," he said, refusing to meet her eyes.
Her cheeks tinged a red hue. "Something you care to share?"
"Grace!" he warned.
"Spoilsport," she retorted, filing away yet another piece of information to torment him with at a later date.
"I'm glad you have so much fun with me."
Quietly and quite honestly, she said, "So am I." As they lapsed into a silence that was comfortable yet charged, Grace settled herself in the car and waited for him to start the engine.
"So what were you doing driving down here?"
"On my way back from dinner," she stated, hoping her tone discouraged him from delving deeper.
He was momentarily silenced, floored by the notion that she had been out on a date, unfettered jealousy irking him. "Well I don't think it's a great idea for you to be driving down country lanes in the middle of the night."
Grace turned to glare at him, the character of his voice not one she took lightly. "I wasn't planning on breaking down, Boyd."
"No-one ever does," he said harshly. "But you're stranded, next thing a good Samaritan pulls over and well . . . I'll let your imagination fill in the rest."
She was beginning to regret calling him. "Thanks, Boyd, I think I've been in the job long enough to appreciate the possibilities."
He growled, frustrated by her and the turn in the conversation as he started the engine, only to turn it off again seconds later.
"Boyd?" There was something in his movements, a sudden drop in his shoulders, the weary way his hand rubbed across his eyes that drew her to turn to look at him, something in his eyes in the darkness of the vehicle that concerned her.
"I just.. .I don't . . ." He couldn't bring himself to say it. It wasn't that he didn't want to.
"I know," she said softly, lightly touching his arm. "But you really need to stop worrying about the what ifs."
He couldn't tell her that his whole life was about what ifs, not that she probably couldn't work that out for herself.
"Sometimes you have to take a risk, you never know what you might get in return," Grace offered with a small shrug and a smile.
He raised an eyebrow, wondering if she was about to get all philosophical with him.
"Don't say I surprised you, Peter?" she laughed huskily.
"You've spent nine years surprising me." The effect of his first name on her lips just one more surprise.
Grace shifted awkwardly in her seat, aware that the atmosphere in the car had suddenly changed, not awkward per se, but certainly filled with a tension that had surfaced infrequently over the years but which had seemingly gone unnoticed on his part.
"Sorry."
"For what?" she asked, suddenly confused by yet another turn around.
Later he would blame it on the look in her eyes, or the glass of whiskey he had consumed in his office, or even on the fact he was fed up of pretending, but in the moment all he could think about was her words. He wasn't adverse to risk taking, just generally he avoided it when there was too high a price at stake. "Possibly for what I'm about to do," he said, his voice barely above a whisper as he swallowed hard.
Boyd reached for her, taking her hand and she found she couldn't pull away, almost couldn't breathe. His fingers were lightly massaging her knuckles and even in the darkness she could feel him staring at her. Without warning, he lifted her hand to his face, his lips moving over her fingers.
"Boyd!" she whimpered, startled by the heat rising in her body.
"Uh huh."
She inwardly groaned as he lowered her hand to his heart and she could feel the beat of his heart, strong and rapid.
"What are you doing?"
"Well if you don't know," he offered casually, a smile evident in his voice. He leaned in, lightly brushing her cheek with his lips. "Then maybe I'm not doing it right."
She felt his cheek against her, his breath against her ear, and her pulse quickened.
"I've been thinking about doing this all the way here, probably longer."
His candidness surprised her and she could feel her own heart beating, her resolve weakening. "This is a bad idea."
"You've said that before."
"You never listen," she whispered just before his lips found hers. Her head reeled off the reasons why they shouldn't, her protests lost as they learnt a new way to communicate.
The kisses were long, ardent, their tongues tangling, as their hands mapped the contours of bodies previously unchartered, neither thinking rationally until the wind-shield lit up and light streamed through the car. They broke apart, frantically rearranging themselves until they were sitting side by side in the car, her foot seeking out it's shoe.
Grace lay back against her seat, her skin flushed, her pupils dilated, laughter spilling forth from her body.
Boyd turned to look at her, his expression unfathomable and she momentarily panicked. "I'm sorry," she said, placing a hand on his thigh. "It's just . . ."
"Yeah, but fun," he interrupted, a grin forming on his lips.
Grace turned in her seat, tucking one leg beneath her. "Boyd, we're in a deserted lane making out like teenagers."
"Not quite teenagers," he objected drolly. "You're still in your seat, not in my lap."
She threw her free hand up in despair.
"Of course if you want to. . ." He moved to push back his seat.
"Yeah, and next thing we know we're front page news – Chief superintendent and forensic psychologist charged with indecent behaviour."
"Then we should probably stop," he agreed reluctantly, his eyes drawn to her fingers unconsciously massaging his thigh.
"Yes," she said wistfully, removing her hand and pulling her seat belt across her.
Boyd started the engine and pulled away. As he drove they sat in silence, awkwardness filling the space that had moments earlier been filled with lust. He wanted to say something, to acknowledge the moment of madness but he couldn't dismiss it as just that. He found for once in his life he wanted to talk.
Grace intermittently stole glances at him, wondering what the latest twist in their relationship would do to them. She hoped he would move past it so at least they could they could work together without a shadow of awkwardness.
Finally they pulled up outside her house, the click of his seat belt breaking into her thoughts.
"The tow truck should be able to get it tomorrow but you're going to be car less for a few days at least," he said, climbing out of the car and opening the back door. "Do you want a lift tomorrow?"
Flustered, Grace gathered her bag and stood on the pavement.
"Grace?"
"It's fine." It was pathetic that she was reverting to clichés but the thought of them alone in his car again so soon was sending her into panic mode.
Boyd jostled the box to his thigh and slammed the door.
"You don't have to come in," she said, standing at the end of her path, watching him manoeuver the box in his arms.
"You must have half your office in here. I'll take it in for you." He gestured for her to move.
Grace opened the front door on the third attempt and stepped inside. Moments later the hallway was flooded with light and she stood illuminated in the door way.
Boyd slid passed her and placed the box on the desk, his back to her. "I'm sorry."
"For?"
"Before. I never meant to make you uncomfortable," he said sincerely, mistaking the rosy hue on her cheeks for embarrassment
Grace kicked the door shut with her foot. "Uncomfortable is not what springs to mind."
He turned slowly to find her smiling at him. "Really?"
"Maybe not the uncomfortable you're implying, anyway," she smiled.
"I was going to blag a coffee but maybe I should go." Instead of heading towards the door he leaned back against the desk.
"Do you want a coffee?" she asked, her smile widening.
"That would depend."
"On what exactly?" Grace asked, sure he had inadvertently waggled his eyebrows at her.
"You," he offered simply, as he stepped towards her.
"This is. . ." Crazy, the biggest risk I could ever take, the most fun I've had in ages. The list was endless but his sudden proximity stopped her.
"What? We're two single consenting adults, Grace." He placed a hand on her arm. "More importantly I fancy you."
"You fancy me?" she asked incredulously.
"Always have," he stated, the roguish grin making an appearance.
Grace opened her mouth to speak and he gently cupped her cheek with his hand, his eyes locking with hers, silently asking permission.
Boyd waited as patiently as he knew how for a sign that she was as willing to take a risk as he was. He knew he wasn't thinking, knew he was acting on impulse but she had been the one to encourage him to take a risk. "We could just sit and talk," he finally suggested when his patience ran out and she was still gazing at him."
"Maybe later."
It was almost inaudible and he briefly thought he had imagined it, but when her hand settled on his hip and she gave him an imperceptible nod, he knew that some risks really were worth taking and this wouldn't be the only risk he'd ever take for her.
The End