Title: God Willing
Rating: T
Disclaimer: I don't own the show or the characters. Neither did the setting come to me first - I just play.
Summary: When she accepted him, he knew he'd never leave her again, even if it meant going to the end of the world. Which is exactly, why they find themselves exactly there.
A/N: This story was basically inspired by a few lines in Joodiff's awesome story "Walkabout". It's part of a series, because the idea is beginning to take a life of its own. Hope you enjoy. (An added scene of more adult content exists - if you want to read it, please, pm me for the link)
Many thanks go to ShadowSamurai83 for the beta of the first chapter.
"God Willing"
Prologue
Day: -1
"Inshallah." He's repeating the word in his head like a mantra. They've told him in the briefing that this is the most used phrase of the locals and that many of the Coalition soldiers have adopted the phrase. Some sort of blending in and reaction to the stress of the battle, or some such psychological bollocks. It's Grace's job to analyse and deal with this thing, not his.
Still, he repeats the phrase in his mind as he slowly, but methodically, goes through the motions of setting up for the night. The back door, the windows, the front door. It seems a little useless, considering that it is their last night, but there is some sort of routine in it and he needs the normality.
Otherwise he won't sleep.
Upstairs, the shower is turned off, so he hurries to be in the master bedroom before she's out of the en-suite. On his way, he takes pains to ignore the packed suitcases next to the front door. Two. One for her, one for him. Same size. Not many things in there. A lot less than he would consider necessary for a two-week holiday. Most of the things he or she would consider necessary for a two-week holiday trip to Spain will remain here. They are useless where they go.
"Inshallah," he repeats as he enters the bedroom they've shared for the last few weeks and moves around the room to light a few candles. It's not his normal thing, too touchy-feely, but there will hardly be a night when it is more appropriate.
It's their last night here. The last night in safety.
Grace stops in the doorway as she appears from the bathroom and takes a moment to look around. Her smile is small but distinctly amused. "Putting on the romance?" she asks lightly.
He shrugs, but opens his arms in invitation.
She doesn't hesitate and steps into his embrace. She's warm, her skin still a little damp from her shower, and very fragrant from the shower cream she's used. Last indulgence too.
Boyd holds her tightly against him, trying to banish the constant reminder. So many things are the 'last' tonight and if one started to really think about it...
He isn't sure he would go, if he thought too much about it.
Her hands cup both of his cheeks, then move to gently pull his head back so he has to look up at her. "We made this decision together, Boyd, and we will get through it together."
"No fear?"
"I am afraid," she replies and shrugs lightly. "Doesn't mean that I will step back now."
"You are very brave," he says and means it. It is something he wouldn't have considered possible. The professional offer was summarily forgotten, once Grace admitted to loving him. What he'd said was true, as soon as they admitted their feelings to each other, no offer - despite the truly silly amount of money - would have taken him away from her again.
Boyd's come home to this woman and that's where he intends to stay.
He made the phone call from this very room, this very spot in fact, the morning after the memorable night before. Quietly, so as not to disturb Grace who was still, seemingly, asleep.
"No regrets?" she asked him then and he shook his head and lost himself in her again.
For him, that had been it and it was good that way.
"Don't think too much, Boyd," she says quietly and it sounds alien to him. Wasn't that supposed to be his line?
How she can be so calm in the face of what's expecting them, Boyd isn't sure he can understand.
He refused a second offer, made two days after he rejected the first. He refused a third, a week later, telling the Home Office then that he had personal reasons, his partner was in steady employment in London and he had no intention of leaving her. Maybe that was the mistake. The Home Office, bastards that they had proved to be during the time they had given his police unit a criminal profiler and a forensic scientist, have not changed.
The same evening Grace came home from the office and wordlessly dropped a sheaf of papers onto the kitchen table. He didn't need to read extensively, the letter head was a dead giveaway.
"The amount of money is ridiculous, Boyd."
He shrugged in reply. What could he say?
"Do they want you to convince me?" he asked after a minute or so, during which he tried to read in her face.
There was a small sarcastic smile flitting around the corners of her mouth and for a moment, he didn't know how to take it. "No, they offer me silly money to take a job that will ensure your acceptance of their job offer."
"I told them, I'm going nowhere where you aren't."
She laughed, and it was one of those where he didn't know whether to join in or be offended. After ten years, he still can't tell the difference. When she sobered up, her expression turned so serious and deep that he knew he wouldn't like her next words.
"They heard you loud and clear, which is why they decided that they'd rather take the package deal than not getting anything."
"I don't understand," Boyd replied, which was a lie. It was more his refusal to believe what Grace was insinuating.
"There is only one psychiatric nurse for the entire UK contingent, Boyd. They are short some personnel. "
"You are not going!" he declared, uselessly, of course.
The ensuing 'discussion' was discordant and severe, harshly reminding him of the rows they used to have. It lasted several hours and included the obligatory slammed doors, broken glass, and magnificent sulking on both sides.
Strangely, it gave him relief that they hadn't grown too soft with each other, too complacent yet.
They worked it out at two in the morning, both exhausted, both tired of the old habit. There were more interesting and rewarding things to be done and had. Which they did, after mutual apologies.
Still, and in a way Boyd couldn't believe just how she had convinced him, days later they found themselves in a briefing, outlining the situation in Kabul. Since then, Grace has been of almost stoic composure, taking all the information in and somehow probably saving them all in her memory. The officers briefing them couldn't stop fawning over what a trooper she is, causing the man by her side to growl impolitely.
Secretly, Boyd can't help but admire her too. She's unfazed by all they are told, focussing more on what she's supposed to be doing, not on what could happen.
"Don't think tonight," she says, her fingers tangling and pulling on his hair. The look in her eyes is already so familiar, so clear in its invitation. The composed, intellectual Dr. Foley has the most incredible set of 'come to bed eyes' he's ever seen. In any woman. And it works on him every time.
Her slight body is barely covered by the flimsy silk of a nightgown. Not her usual thing, which tells him that this night is special and important to her as well. Light teal, that brings out the colour of her eyes and her pale skin. There's no need for this kind of seduction, but Boyd is a man and appreciates it all the more.
Tomorrow the indulgences of a soft bed, expensive and fragrant shower cream, and a silky nightgown, will be forgotten luxuries.
When Grace leans down and brushes her lips against his in a clear invitation, he doesn't hesitate. His hands brush possessively up and down her back, cup and squeeze her buttocks as he pulls her slowly down with him onto the bed.
This is the night of all nights.
Their night.
Thank you for reading. Comments would be greatly appreciated.