Truth or Dare? In which Spencer has questionable taste in pub games, and Boyd is mischievous.
Wishing missDuncan a very happy birthday - I missed spending the day with you but I hope it was still a good one. :) xx
Truth or Dare
…
The sky is dark and the stars are out. A fire is crackling merrily in the hearth, its warmth permeating throughout the room and dissolving much of the night's encroaching chill. It's getting late, rather later than they were planning to stay out, but not obnoxiously so. Grace doesn't mind. It's good to be surrounded by the team, her friends. It's good to be talking and having fun, to be watching them laugh and joke as they get merrier and the conversation gets sillier.
No one is drunk, not entirely, but the younger ones are definitely headed that way, as evidenced by Spencer's sudden desire to play the incredibly childish game of truth or dare. Quite what he hopes to achieve by getting Eve to answer a deeply personal question about her longest relationship, Grace is not entirely sure, but it's entertaining and Eve doesn't appear to mind.
Beside her Boyd is almost as sober as she is, for while her head may be well and truly on the mend after her unfortunate mishap, she's still not supposed to drink or drive just yet, and since he has to take her home he's restricting himself as well.
It's telling, she supposes, that Sarah isn't with them. That the thick underground atmosphere of mistrust is entirely absent as the four of them chatter away and the evening wears on. The fun will have to end soon, though, for as good as she is feeling, bed is beckoning. The day has well and truly worn itself out, and as hard as it is to admit to herself, she's not getting any younger.
"Your turn," announces Eve, grinning at Grace. "Truth or dare?"
"Truth," she answers, not trusting them to come up with an appropriate dare.
Spencer considers her, his thoughts clearly bubbling away behind that intense gaze. He's been much more seriously lately, and for that reason alone she would gladly have gone along with tonight's impromptu pub meal and drinks. It's good to see him relax, very good. "Were you scared when you woke up in hospital?"
Was she? It takes a lot to scare her, always has. She ponders the question for a while, takes a slow sip of her surprisingly tasty lemonade. "Only while everything was still foggy and I didn't know what had happened, where I really was," she finally concludes. "I thought I might never see the people I love again."
Despite the drink, Eve's eyes seem to well up a bit. It's odd. Still, Grace doesn't query it. It's not the time, nor the place. "But once I was awake and the nurse spoke to me, no. It's just a bump in the road. These things happen."
Spencer looks a little troubled, but as she speaks seems to relax. "And you're feeling better now?"
Grace nods, smiles with genuine warmth. "Absolutely. Just waiting for the final all clear that'll let me crack open a bottle of wine again," she winks.
They seem happy with the answer, her junior colleagues, and she's glad. They're protective and they worry, always have. It's sweet, but she doesn't really like the fuss. Doesn't need it anyway. Not now.
Apparently satisfied, Eve's mischievous gaze falls on Boyd. "Truth or dare," she asks, smirking, before adding an impertinently respectful, "sir."
Boyd doesn't blink, just keeps his eyes steady as he watches her, rubbing idly at his chin. Grace knows exactly what he's going to say, probably much to the delight and surprise of their colleagues, but then, she's known him a very long time. And she knows him much better than they do. So much better.
"Dare," he declares, lips twitching with a hint amusement.
Someone is going to be disappointed, thinks Grace. Either Boyd, with the dare, or Spence and Eve with his willingness to actually do what they want him to. Because surely neither of them will come up with something to actually challenge him.
Surely.
"Kiss Grace."
The words come from Spencer as he swigs the last of his pint and gently places the glass back down on the table. Out of the blue and very much startling to all four of them, for even Spence looks stunned by what he's said. Stunned, and suddenly quite awkward. He opens his mouth to speak again, no doubt to retract the words, to laugh them off and come up with something else, but he doesn't get the chance.
Because Boyd is Boyd.
And because Boyd has never backed down from a dare in his life.
He simply leans towards her, that mischief she so adores twinkling in his eyes, and Grace knows that this is the moment. She could fend him off, she could turn her cheek towards him, or she could let the inevitable happen. The decision takes a split second.
These are her friends, she loves them dearly. And Sarah isn't here, so who cares…
And then Boyd's fingers are brushing over her cheek, his hand is sliding through the hair at the back of her head, and his lips meet hers in a soft, almost whispery touch that quickly becomes something more. It's not a passing, quick kiss, but nor is it deep and passionate. It's a lovers' kiss, and it is obviously so to the pair sitting opposite them because for a few seconds the world stops and there is nothing and no one but him and her.
When Boyd pulls back it is to gently rest his forehead against hers, his eyes still closed in the moment that is entirely theirs. He's forgotten all about the other two, she knows, because the next thing he does is press his lips to her brow and pull back to gaze at her. He's in that place that exists privately between them, the place that is untouchable to anyone else, untouchable and impenetrable. The place in the darkness where they can hide together, where nothing else matters. The place where he forgets everything that weighs him down, where he truly relaxes.
Reality returns, and so does the smirk. It's hiding in his eyes as he tucks wayward strands of hair behind her ear, fingers inordinately gentle. "It's getting late," he comments, seemingly lazily.
Grace hides her own smile, nods in agreement. "Past our bed time."
He's already finished his pint; she has one remaining sip of her drink which she reaches for and takes. Neither appear to notice the way Spencer is ashen, mouth wordlessly hanging open, nor the way Eve is almost apoplectic with glee but equally wordless.
They stand up together, Grace tucking her smaller hand into Boyd's larger one as he picks up her handbag for her and passes it over.
"It's been a lovely evening," she tells the mute pair. "We should definitely do this sort of thing more often."
"Agreed," nods Boyd, reaching into his pocket for his keys.
"Have a good weekend," wishes Grace, "See you both on Monday."
No more words are said, and as she and her lover walk out into the cool night air identical grins of satisfaction mar their faces. As reveals go, that one was rather satisfying. For both of them.