DISCLAIMER: I own nothing.
A/N: Don't ask me why. I have no idea.
Mayfair
By Joodiff
"It was your idea," he says, dark eyebrows raised at her. "Ergo, it's all your own fault."
"I didn't know you were suddenly going to develop the killer instincts of a Great White," she complains. He says nothing, just studies her across the width of the table. She glances towards the window, hoping to see blue skies. Disappointment awaits her. It is still raining in the same dedicated, surly way it has been raining for the last thirty-six hours. Returning her gaze to her companion, she suggests, "You could just let me off with a warning, or something. That's what coppers used to do."
"That was in the days when we were allowed to give miscreants a clip round the ear. Pay up, Grace."
She pouts. "I liked you better when you were losing at Scrabble."
"I was only losing because you kept changing the rules. Anything in the dictionary, you said."
"No-one tries to get a triple-word score with 'fucker', Boyd."
"It's in the dictionary. Fuck, fucking, fu – "
"Grow up. You're not in primary school now."
"Then pay up. To you, a mere two thousand quid."
Grace considers. It's worth a gamble. "Payment in kind?"
He leans back in his chair, suddenly speculative. "Two thousand quid's worth?"
"Mate's rates."
His grin is truly something to behold. "So what do you do for two hotels on Mayfair…?"
The rain continues to fall. It always rains in Wales. Really, it's a stupid place to spend a long weekend in April. But Grace doesn't mind – she may be accruing some serious debt while they remain holed up out of the rain in their tiny rented cottage, but working it off promises to be a lot of fun. Though when they tire of Monopoly, she's no idea how two people are going to make a success of Cluedo…
- the end -