Author's Note:

This ended up being a lot more intense than the original idea. I'd mostly wanted to dig into Eric's past and was planning to use Nell as the person to guide that but somehow her reactions to the snippets of his past meant I needed to really look at what that would do to their relationship too.

Disclaimer:

Sadly, I do not own NCIS LA, it's characters or claim any affiliation with anyone who is even remotely involved with the creation of the show. The title comes from Hamlet although Mark Twain also famously used the line - I don't own that either.

Clothes Maketh the Man

The evening had started out like so many before; there was nothing special about it.

It'd been a long hard week of decrypting the 1000s of communiqués which raised not red but orange flags. With no current cases, no imminent threats, not even any urgent maintenance, they were stuck with the Ops equivalent of paperwork. Average, everyday conversations between mid-level lowlifes that, at one point or another, got identified as needing to be watched and so, whenever they had time, they watched. So far they had uncovered just one set that they were able to refer on for further examination while they waded through the collective rubbish. They were the perfect pair to do it; Eric was the best decrypter NCIS had while Nell could separate idle schemes from genuine threats faster than a bullet leaves an automatic weapon. But everyone knew, it was below their level. The only thing, other than the banter back and forth between them, which kept this interesting was when Nell thought of a way to filter the information based on patterns she'd noticed in the code and Eric set about building the widgets one line at a time as she refined her process. Every time they ran one of the widgets the pile of undecipherables lost about ¼ of it's previous volume. That wasn't to say they didn't double check the results, but with their collective genius the average lowlife was just so predictable when it came to creating "new and ingenious" cipher.

After that it was perfectly normal to grab pizza and head for Eric's couch for a movie night. In fact for them to have each just gone home separately would have felt wrong. They weren't tired, they hadn't been challenged and they needed something which would be suitable geeky to ease their collective apathy towards the intelligence world's fascination with saying very little in a very complicated way.

Looking back it was unclear exactly how they'd gone from popcorn and a debate about which Batman movie was the best (Nell had a soft spot for Robin in the films by Joel Schumacher films but admitted the Nolan ones have lifted the bar) to examining Eric's wardrobe.

Eric thought maybe it'd been how Bruce Wayne had essentially needed a set of clothes for each persona but that, at the beginning he would have been forced to rely on whatever he had in black. But maybe, by then they'd progressed to talking about Bond films? Either way, Nell had made a dig that it was lucky they weren't trying to make that work with His closet because she was willing to bet there wasn't a single piece of black or formal wear in the entire wardrobe. Eric, blushing had countered that, as it happened there was so if she wanted to make that bet he'd be taking her money. Nell, despite believing Eric to be incapable of lying – at least to her – still couldn't believe it.

And so, here they were. Standing in front of his wardrobe.

It hadn't seemed personal in the heat of the moment when they'd been discussing it in the living room but standing in his bedroom with Nell's head stuck in the wardrobe and her fingers running over his shirts as she moved all of his everyday wear to one side, Eric started feeling just a little hot under the collar. After all, it was rather intimate to hunt through someone's clothes with them watching. He couldn't quite shake the image of her running her fingers over his clothes, while he was wearing them. Her running commentary about which ones were her favourites was definitely not helping and he had the feeling it would influence what had once been a random process of wearing whatever was closest.

Nell's sharp gasp broke into the half formed fantasies he was trying to smother before this got totally out of hand. She'd found them. They'd been stuffed at the back for so long that, until this conversation, he'd almost forgotten about them. The first things she pulled out were the black jeans, dark grey oxford shirt and black cashmere sweater he'd bought only about a year before. He'd been struck by the crazy notion that maybe he'd blend in a little better at the charity gala he'd been sucked into going to. Turned out you could dress him up like one of the players but you couldn't take the nerd out of him as a couple of the guys had so pointedly regaled.

He'd winced when he first seen them but noting the way Nell's thumb was unconsciously rubbing small circles into the sleeve of the super soft cashmere had Eric wondering if, just maybe he'd been a little hasty in abandoning that particular item to the 'never again' section.

With a hint of reluctance, Nell relinquished her finds onto his bed and dived back into the wardrobe to see what other 'hidden wonders there were in here'. Eric knew, once she was satisfied she'd found them all, he'd have some explaining to do but for the moment he just sat back and tried to enjoy the show.

A three piece suit, a leather jacket and a black sports coat all joined the pile before Nell hit the very back and found what he'd tried so hard to forget about – the Tux. He'd never actually thought it was possible to render his ever-talkative intelligence analyst speechless. She was very well known for finishing everyone else's sentences, but the Tux seemed to have done it. She turned from the hangers, her hazel eyes wide her mouth practically hanging open and although she moved as though to speak a couple of times, not a single word came out. Without really looking at what she was doing she cleared a patch and sat down on the bed next to him, the Tux folded haphazardly on her lap and stared at it.

For the first time since he'd worn the wretched thing, all those years ago, he looked at it with real affection. It had, after all, performed a miracle. Eric considered waiting it out, seeing just how long Miss Nell Jones could sit silent despite all the questions he could practically see whirling around behind those beautiful eyes but he figured he'd best get started or they'd be here all night. There was a reason these never saw the light of day and he had the distinct feeling that Nell, like a dog with a bone, wouldn't leave it alone until she was satisfied she had not just the truth but the whole truth.

Taking a deep breath he leant behind her and grabbed the leather jacket – of the lot, that was the easiest to explain. The movement broke Nell's semi-trance and Eric was able to pry the Tux out of her fingers and replace it with the leather jacket. He could tell she wanted to start with the Tux but it wasn't going to happen. If they were digging into his past, he at least got a say in how they went about it. Picking up one sleeve while her ever-moving fingers criss-crossed the rest, Eric began.

"I had a motorbike for one summer in Collage," Nell raised a disbelieving eyebrow but didn't interrupt. Eric couldn't help but grin back. "Seemed like an amazing idea at the time. I read up on the mechanics, took which one to buy incredibly seriously and had disassembled and reassembled one of the same model before I finally got my hands on one, which not only worked but was all mine."

"How long did the love affair last?" Nell asked, the gleam she got when she was both perplexed and gently jibing coming into her eyes.

"Three weeks." Now he could shrug good-naturedly about it but at the time, he'd been devastated. He'd enjoyed learning to ride it but the deal breaker had come swiftly enough.

"A brief fling then. What went wrong?"

"Well, I was studying physics at the time, among other things, and I decided to take the software model I'd built for a first year subject and plug in the bike's stats. I ran every scenario I could think of and there wasn't a single one where the rider didn't get ripped to shreds when they came off at anything over about 15 miles/hr. The speed you come off at combined with friction created by the surface you were hitting; well lets just say I didn't like the odds. And that wasn't even touching the modelling I did which involved other moving or stationary objects."

Nell tried to hold in the bubble of laughter that was building inside her but the expression on Eric's face was just too much. For all that he had a heart of gold, he had the courage of a mouse. As her laughter broke free she was relieved to see his lips quirk before he too dissolved into laughter. It was quite some time before they both settled down enough for Nell to ask the question she'd been trying to get out before she laughed.

"What did you do then?" Her lips still trembling ever so slightly with the shared mirth.

"I sold the software models to the Traffic Accident Commission and sold the bike but I couldn't part with the jacket so it's been shuffled around, place to place as a reminder of why I surf rather than test the odds on the road."

"Of course you did. But I'm surprised they didn't have one already, the accident people I mean."

"Lets just say mine was a little more extensive." At Nell's raised eyebrow, "theirs stopped at modelling accidents, mine predicted the statistical probability, not just of each type of accident but how long you could ride a motorbike before, statistically, you were due for an accident. "

Nell shook her head; Eric really was unique, for everyone else half the fun was the danger and nobody actually believed it would happen to them. Was logic then his saviour or a detractor of his pleasure in life? Not that all pleasure was dangerous, she could think of plenty… actually given she was sitting on his bed, going through his clothes perhaps it was best not to be thinking about that right now…

"Next Item?" She asked, sounding a little too eager to her own ears.

Grabbing the sports coat before Nell could make another selection, Eric cleared his throat ready to begin again. He couldn't help feeling like he was back at school doing Show and Tell where you had to bring an interesting object and tell the class about it – but unlike the audience then, Nell seemed to be really enjoying herself. So even though much of this was on the edge between being humorous and painful he wasn't about to do anything that would limit her pleasure. Her pleasure. Well that just sounded wrong even in his head. Thank heavens he hadn't said it out load. Actually he'd better get started with the out-loud thing or Nell would think he was crazy. Or at least, crazier than normal.

"After I'd been designing for Apple for a couple of years I got informed I was going to play golf with the project team and Jobs –" Eric's tone was perfectly ordinary, like such things happened to everyone, all the time.

"Hang on! You played golf with Steve Jobs?! Why am I only hearing about this now?!" Nell asked incredulously. She knew Eric had done work with both software and hardware at Apple from quite a young age (although no one outside Apple knew Eric existed thanks to Hetty's prowess at expunging, probably so that no one would try to poach him) but that was in a whole other universe to being invited to play golf with Jobs.

Eric looked quite uncomfortable. "Well, uh, it didn't exactly go to plan. You see I didn't have much notice so I didn't really have a chance to learn how to play so I figured the next best thing was to look the part. Most of the outfit was pretty straightforward, I just walked into a golf shop and got them to figure it out but because all I really knew about golf was the Green Jacket they give to the winner at the Masters I figured that must be part of the look. So I found another store that had sports coats and pretty much grabbed the first black one which fitted."

Nell was already biting the inside of her cheek, on one hand, this was hilarious. Only Eric would buy an entire new outfit as a substitute for being able to actually play the game. On the other hand, having played golf herself and seen just how much of a hash Eric made of even the simplest sports she had a really bad feeling about where this story was going.

"So I get there, all decked out and I'm relieved to see that I'm at least wearing the same stuff as everyone else – except the jacket. No one else seems to have a jacket. But that's fine, maybe they'll grab theirs on the way out to the field – ["Course" Nell corrected] – Anyway, we're chatting away and they all hit their balls and they all make comments about how far it's gone and whatever but seem pleased. So it comes to my turn and I'm still wearing this jacket despite being the only one but I do my best to try and mimic their actions setting the ball on the little white stick – ["Tee" Nell put in] Right, Tee – and grab the closest club and start with the stupid bending of knees, rolling of shoulders and what have you before giving it a good wack. It went quite an impressive distance – just in completely the wrong direction. [Nell groaned, this was going from bad to worse.] Not to mention the guys seemed all agitated about something but at that point I figured it was the fact I was very bad at golf. Anyway, it soon became evident I was majorly holding up everyone on the course, I was on track to be about 100 over par by the 5th hole so I offered to just pocket my ball and watch. [Nell gasped] Yeah, they weren't too impressed either. Turned out, between my clothes and my caricatured golf swing they thought I was making fun of them and the offer to bow out gracefully was the last straw. "

"What happened next?" Nell asked, fearful of the answer but enthralled all the same. When bad things happened to Eric, they always made good stories.

"Jobs may have gotten stuck into me. Suggested I walk away and not come back. Told me to take my talents elsewhere. Having since met Hetty, Jobs really wasn't that scary – just a genius. So I shrugged, thanked them for the game, picked up the closest white ball and started to walk off."

"Noooo!" Nell seemed to have forgotten this was all in the past; her hand had latched onto his arm as if trying to make him go back in time and put the ball back.

"Yeah. That wasn't my ball. You can probably picture the hoo-ha that followed. I hadn't done it on purpose but everyone got involved and suddenly no one was sure whose ball was whose – except Jobs of course. His had an Apple logo on his and no one was pretending to claim that one. Anyway, I was a bit cross by this point and was thinking I'd be damned unhappy if they made me give back whichever one I now had in my pocket. Then I see this guy marching towards us wearing a sports coat and it dawns on me. The jacket meant this guy was clerk of the course. Deciding this was the time to leave I gave a sketchy bow to Jobs, said the course was the most beautiful I'd ever seen to the guy in the jacket, grabbed my stuff and made for the exit post haste."

"And was that the end of your freelancing?" Nell asked smacking his arm with the back of her hand. Eric really was clueless about social conventions.

"Actually, no. Once they calmed down and realised I wasn't intentionally mocking them, I actually couldn't play golf to save myself or any sport for that matter, and because I was already fielding offers from the Military, the Government and Microsoft they let me have my desk back. I guess they were more comfortable with a non-golfing programmer than they were with me leaving?"

Nell shook her head in amazement as she reached out for the next in the pile. These things could only happen to Eric.

She'd noticed his face had been particularly grave about the Tux and he had looked a little ill at the sight of the first set of clothes so she picked up the three-piece-suit and prepared her self for her next little slice of his past. The suit was a glossy black, superbly tailored with a beautiful green silk lining and a black and green waistcoat. She couldn't help imagining how good it would look on, the green picking out the highlights of his eyes.

Eric never stopped being amazed at how well she could read him. While he had taken the Tux out of her arms by force he was pretty sure he'd managed to keep a fairly straight face about the cashmere ensemble but somehow, she'd known he didn't want to go there next.

"That, was for my first Military contract. You know about my software and hardware engineering exploits in my teens so I won't bother you with a rehash but at 18 I started getting interested in combining complex decryption algorithms with the new type of security protocol I'd dreamed up. The idea came from overhearing a group of girls get into this massive argument about what was and what wasn't told in confidence. Clearly they each had their 'person' they confided certain things in, but they hadn't counted on not being that 'person' for the girl they told. Thus the mini world war three. People invariably want to confide in someone, so I wrote this program which could calculate the statistical probability that the person you wanted to tell would actually blather to the entire campus and then added in everything I knew about encryption and decryption. What I got, was a system that would test its users to learn about them."

Eric's eyes flashed to Nell's "You will stop me if I'm boring you, right? I'm not trying to brag or anything."

Nell, who'd hardly been able to contain her interest, waved this off impatiently. "You were saying it tested its users?"

"Well, I figured what each girl needed was a test piece of information. She could introduce it to different members of the group and see who told who but the net loss would be zero because the information could easily be shown to be bogus."

Nell couldn't help but smirk. For someone who had so little understanding of how to communicate with people, especially women, Eric had managed to hit the nail on the head about what caused all the drama.

"So you made a code which you were pretty sure wouldn't take too much pressure to break but enough to create interest and then used some form of monitoring system to track the information from its source?" Nell asked, thinking that really that just about summed up the first five principles of intelligence analysis.

Eric had the grace to look slightly sheepish, "Yeah that about covers it. I showed it to one of my professors in the hope he'd smuggle me into one of the supercomputers so I could test out my theory and was completely floored when he practically frog marched me out of his office. He made a call and suddenly I was being put into a big black car and my folder of notes was being handed off to a lean, balding guy in an ill fitting suit who never-the-less, was the scariest guy I'd ever seen. Took them a while to get around to telling me that I was on some watch list or other and that instead of throwing me in some dungeon they actually wanted to buy this program which I hadn't even been able to test yet. I reckon that's how I first came onto Hetty's radar, because years later she mentioned that at least this time I wasn't being plucked unsuspecting off a university campus." Nell looked as though she was going to break in at that moment but Eric barrelled on.

"But anyway, you asked about the suit. My 'contact' showed up at my doom out of the blue about 8 weeks after the deal had been made and asked if I had a suit. Looking around my room seemed sufficient answer so they swept me off to this crazy little man about 10 minutes from Campus and before I knew what was going on I was down to jocks and having every single facet measured. All the while the little man kept up a running commentary in one of the Asian languages and my 'contact' just stood there watching us both like a hawk. Bizarrest experience ever! Turned out I had to go to some Military function, black tie. Very dry, but that suit is almost as comfy as a pair of pyjamas, fits like a glove and while I've never worn it again I haven't been able to part with it."

Nell wasn't sure if she wanted to hit him for never having told her this before, it was a seriously awesome story, or wanting to try and put all the pride she was feeling into words. Deciding on a little of both she gave him a light shove in the ribs while pointing out that the phrase on his record which said merely 'early encryption and security consult' and the year really didn't cut it. He'd shoved back pointing out that, had she dug a little deeper, being an intelligence analyst, surely she could have figured it out. It wasn't that top secret.

"Alright then hot shot, what's next?" Nell asked deciding sometimes attack was the best defence.

To start with mildly awful and progress to genuinely awful, or to get the worst over with quickly, that was the question. Knowing he probably should start with the worst but deciding he'd put off the worst just a tiny bit longer he started moving towards the cashmere just as Nell had apparently gotten impatient and gone for the same thing. There was a tangle of hands, apologies and Nell managed to bump her head against Eric's jaw before, between the two of them, they managed to single out the jeans, shirt and cashmere from the mass of black clothes on Eric's bed. Eric tried not to pay too much attention to the fact that Nell hadn't relinquished her hold on the sweater and he'd ended up with the shirt and jeans. She was just being competitive, right? After all she technically got to it first. But that didn't really explain why he felt quietly pleased about the whole thing.

"I guess it really all started about 18 months ago. I donated enough computers and peripherals to make a small technology area at the local youth out-reach centre and ran enough short courses in basic computer use to develop the manual and train up a permanent teacher for it. You and I know how important it is now to know how to use a computer if you want to get a job and sometime's a job's all you need to get out of a neighbourhood where the other option is joining a gang."

"Wow. I'm impressed. How come I didn't know you worked at the out-reach centre? Quite frankly I'm amazed you managed to find the time."

"You were away for a couple of weeks and it was pretty quiet at work so – " Eric said trying to shrug it off as nothing out of the ordinary.

"So you set up a computer lab and moonlighted as a teacher because you were bored?" Nell asked incredulously. Of all the people to have made stacks of money very young, Eric seemed to be a surprisingly good man for the job. Yes he had every technological toy he could fit in his apartment, but for the most, part he was pretty responsible.

Eric managed to stop himself just in time before blurting out that he'd done it because he missed her and had needed someone he could talk about technological things to. Which had gotten him thinking of all the people who through poverty or disadvantage hadn't ever been taught sufficient computer skills. He'd started that night researching everything he'd need to organise to make the project viable. Eleven computers seemed like the ideal number, one for the teacher and ten students. Next he needed a model to make it viable long term. Running paid classes for the disadvantaged of all ages at say $15 per person, three times a day during school hours would raise up to $450 which would more than cover the cost of running one class each evening for youth and the money left over could go to other projects. On days they weren't running classes they could open it as a computer and Internet lab. Even turn it into an Internet café later down the track. He'd set up a scholarship to pay the teacher so that wouldn't be a drain. Yes, all up it sounded quite realistic. Next it'd been a matter of presenting the idea, all packaged up to the Centre's director and getting the go-ahead. That meeting had been surprisingly short; he'd been offered tea, said his piece, gotten thanked profusely but asked what the catch was and before he knew it they were getting down to when this project could be got up and running. Amazingly easy actually.

Knowing Nell didn't want a superficial answer he tried again:

"I couldn't imagine being fifteen or even eighteen and not knowing how to use a computer. Sure, knowing too much about computers wasn't exactly good for my status at high school but now, everyone's online so it would be social suicide not to have ever had the chance to learn to use them properly. They're already disadvantaged enough, but without skills it'll be generational."

Eric was surprised when he felt Nell's hand slip into his and her smile was doing strange things to his blood pressure but it was her words that knocked the stuffing out of him.

"You're an amazing guy Eric. There aren't too many people who work the hours we do that are prepared to take on something this big."

Nell let it hang between them for a minute or so, enjoying quiet acknowledgement of doing something that awesome, before challenging him to finish his story with how the clothes came into it – surely he didn't wear that for the classes?

Eric laughed. "Nah, for once I could wear exactly what I wanted and nobody thought it was strange. But they say no good deed goes unpunished. Turned out the Centre's director had spoken so highly of what the project achieved – it educated over 500 people in it's first three months and raised all this money which the centre could then use for bursaries (scholarships to cover things like textbooks and living costs so kids from places like the Centre could get one step closer to being able to go to collage) that I ended up being invited to a Gala that recognised young business people who do philanthropic work. The guy running the Centre was so proud I couldn't say no, then they wanted me to make a speech…" Nell, while overwhelmingly proud had to bite her tongue to stop herself laughing at the sheer horror in his voice at that particular suggestion.

"…But thankfully some other guy offered to speak so I was saved that embarrassment. Anyway, it was a semi-formal affair so I roped my sister-in-law into figuring out what on earth I was going to wear. She chose this." Eric said waving his left hand vaguely across their two laps, his right hand still being held by Nell's left. Actually he was amazed he was able to string long sentences together with the distraction of her smaller, softer hand in his but didn't want to over think it and jinx it. He'd consider it later. Maybe he was getting used to it, the way he'd gotten used to her putting her head on his shoulder when she was trying to stay awake to watch the end of a movie and losing the battle.

"These all seem like good memories, why's it all shoved at the back of your wardrobe? Hetty would probably do a jig if, even just for one day, you showed up at the Mission dressed like that." Nell caught Eric's wince and gave his fingers a squeeze, Hetty's views on his clothes were a bit of a touchy subject.

"Yeah, it was all good until I arrived at the Gala. Didn't take the rest of the guys on my table long to figure out I was the guy who set up the computer centre and I was there by myself. For the Centre director's sake, I made myself stay seated for the whole wretched ceremony but they all made it perfectly clear that having money and nice clothes didn't mean it wasn't still exactly like high school."

"Charming. Wonder if they realise their trophy 'plus one' will only stick around as long as they keep paying her bills and a newer, richer model doesn't come onto her radar?" Nell said angrily, wishing vehemently that Eric had been able to point out that actually he stopped terrorists for a living, or better yet that she'd been there to defend him.

There was something incredibly beautiful about Nell when she was in her warrior queen mode. Part of him wished she'd been there, as a sane voice in a chorus of low blows and snide comments. Then again, seeing one of those vain, fat, entitled idiots hitting on her probably would have driven him to violence where he could grin and bear whatever shit they threw at him.

"It was ok. I've got you guys, they've just got their cheque books so I wasn't too fussed."

"But you haven't worn them since right?"

"Right…" Taking a deep breath and putting as much positive energy as he could into the comment he tried to bridge the gap, "they're staying in my closet because I don't want to ever try and be that guy again."

Nell wanted to press him, make him see it wasn't the clothes or the actions; he was just a soft target to a gang of high-rolling thugs. All of which made her really mad. Furious in fact. She'd have to figure out how to deal with the cashmere haters later so she squeezed his hand instead and kept quiet. Because having opened this can of worms and knowing it must be well past midnight already she decided to bite the bullet and find out what kind of damage she was inflicting by digging out that Tux. She'd been so amazed by the fact that he owned it she'd almost completely missed the deathly pale, shuttered look that had come over his face when he'd seen it which had been so intense that if it hadn't softened in that next instant she probably would have been prepared to shove everything back in the wardrobe, concede the bet as lost and settled in for a very long WoW session to try and distract him. But she knew, now they'd started, it'd hang over them until they finished it. She just hoped she'd be able to mend whatever old wounds she tore open.

"You ready to end it?" Nell asked slipping her hand out of his and trying to be a bit more upbeat by throwing in one of their favourite gaming lines. But instead of lightening the mood, Eric looked like he was going to break out into a sweat.

"End it?" There was a slight tremor in his voice as he said it.

"Our trip down memory lane, one outfit at a time? They do say Clothes Maketh the Man after all!"

"Oh." Eric let out a long breath that sounded an awful lot like relief, making Nell quickly replay the scenario in her head, this time factoring in the headspace Eric would have been in post Gala. 'End it.' Could he have possibly though she meant 'End us'? That after one story about jealous fat cats she was prepared to walk away from his friendship? That her taking her hand back had been symbolic of leaving? She didn't like that thought at all but didn't have another second to consider the possibilities as his gentle hands removed the cashmere sweater from her lap and replaced it with the tux. She looked up at him, wanting to say something, anything to make sure he understood but could see him steeling himself for whatever was coming next and knew she'd lost her opportunity. If not now, she'd have to make sure she cleared that up before she left. It was only fair.

"You know, I think, that one of my friends from childhood was deaf." He waited for Nell to nod before, reluctantly picking up the tale again, "I didn't see much of him in collage but we kept in touch and about a year after I graduated I get this video in the mail. It was a video of him signing, with a gorgeous blonde standing next to him and they were announcing their engagement. I wish it'd been more recent, we could have skyped but anyway, the tape kept going and he asked me if I would be his best man. But there was a catch, I'd also be the translator because Sophie's friends and relatives didn't know ASL and quite a few of his guests would be deaf and reminding me we'd agreed as teenagers that the only good ASL translators were the guys wearing Tuxedos and white gloves. I was over the moon, I'd heard about Sophie for a couple of years and was really honoured he still wanted me as his best man after all this time so I went out and bought a Tux that very afternoon. All kitted out with the white gloves I then made a video and signed that I wouldn't want to be anywhere else in the world and that I was ready as of today to translate anything they wanted, any day, anywhere they chose. I posted it and I waited for a reply. I knew he did a lot of travelling to out of the way places for work but by then end of two months, without so much as an IM I rang his mum to find out what was going on."

The deathly pale was back and Nell didn't know what was coming next but she was already on the verge of tears and she suddenly would have given anything to spare him this moment. But the moment had already happened – this was just the retelling and when she moved to interrupt he shook his head. It was too late to back out now.

"His mum didn't answer, it was their next door neighbour, and – oh god, Nell it was awful – Sophie had been in a terrible accident and had been in a coma for just under two months. She was technically brain dead."

Nell wasn't sure which one of them moved. All she knew was that, right now, sitting on Eric's lap with her arms wrapped around him was exactly where she needed to be. She didn't bother trying to stop the tears which streamed silently down her face and although she didn't look at his face, she could tell by his breathing he was crying as well. Nell had no idea how long they sat like that, wrapped around each other after the tears had dried and their breathing had calmed to almost that of the deeply asleep. She remembered vaguely trying to apologise and starting to cry all over again when Eric said he was glad he'd told her. He'd never told anyone else. He'd worn it to the funeral and translated the last rites rather than the wedding vows and it'd been stuffed at the back of his wardrobe ever since. Haunting him. He'd stayed in touch with his friend but there was too much that had never been said. Maybe now, he'd be brave enough to skype and make it right. She'd pressed a kiss to his cheek, tucked her face into the base on his neck and tried to give everything she could give just by being there.

It was Eric that moved first. Murmuring softly that it was after 2 AM, picking her up in his arms and turning to lay her out on the bed, adding that he'd sleep on the couch. Despite having almost been asleep Nell knew that they couldn't end the evening this way. She grabbed his hand as he set her down and began to move away.

"Wait. Eric. I – will you trust me?" Relieved to see Eric was as awake as she was and holding eye contact and willing him to let her make just one thing right after everything her stupid, meddling curiosity had put him through.

His lips moved into a shadow of a smile, "Always."

Nell reached out and selected the jeans, shirt and cashmere sweater off the bed and held them out. "Will you put these on for me?" Her eyes willed him to understand, willed him to trust that she was trying to make it better but she had seen his slight movement away from them.

"Please. Just trust me. I'll put all of these away while you change." Nell asked softly.

She wasn't sure if it was really trust or just relief at the thought of not having to rehandle the Tux, which broke down his defences and made him take the clothes she held out and turn towards the ensuite bathroom. As the door closed Nell quickly smoothed out the wrinkles and started to return the pile of clothes to their original order in Eric wardrobe, starting with the Tux so that no matter how fast or slow he changed that would be gone from sight.

Nell had them all safely hidden away and was sitting on the edge of his bed when the bathroom door opened. Nell looked up to see a rather stiff figure standing in the doorway between rooms. He looked like he was terrified and trying to hide it and Nell had a momentary pang of guilt but then she looked closer and couldn't stop the smile that spread across her face. She'd been right. Eric looked stunning.

Getting up off the bed she walked towards him; watching as his tension seemed to slowly unwind as she approached. The black jeans hung snugly on his slim hips and Nell was quickly deciding that there was nothing sexier than those jeans. If Nell hadn't already known the cashmere was softer than butter melting in your hands she might have stopped her perusal there but sliding her eyes up from his toes to take in the way the charcoal collar of the shirt with it's top button undone framed the base of his neck and the sweater clung in all the right places had her itching to wrap her arms around him to feel the play of soft wool over the harder muscles of his chest. Finally, standing almost toe-to-toe, she stopped and looked up into his eyes.

"They weren't having a go at you at the Gala because of the project you represented Eric." She could see he wanted to correct her but she wasn't having a bar of it. "They were worried you might be the upgrade their trophy girl chose, because there's no way there was woman with a pulse in that room who was thinking about high school when they looked at you. They would have been trying to figure out how they could ditch the guy they came with so they could do this."

Keeping her eyes on his and moving slowly enough for him to back away if he chose, Nell slid her arms around his neck, stretching up onto her toes so she was pressed against him. Instinctively Eric's hands moved around her waist to steady her and hold her gently in place despite the doubt she could see in his eyes still. She took a moment to revel in the embrace, realising the sweater was every bit as amazing on as she'd imagined when she'd first run her fingers over it.

"But I'm not doing this for them, as much as I'd love to murder the lot of them. And I know this isn't fair given everything that's happened tonight but I'm standing here, asking you to kiss me –" Nell watched as the light dawned and Eric's eyes darkened, "– because the more I learn about you the more difficulty I have in restricting what I feel to just admiration for what you're capable of doing, to friendship, to being your partner rather than having the right to do this, whenever I want."

There was a pause where neither of them moved that felt like it would go on forever. Long enough to make Nell wonder if really, she should have just left it alone. She hadn't planned the second part, it was meant to have just been a hug and the reassurance that while he could hide it in his wardrobe all he liked, but it shouldn't be for any other reason than, that it looked incredible even if it wasn't him. Then she'd really looked at him and knew she didn't just want a hug from her best friend.

But just as she was about to lower her eyes and step away, Eric's head dipped, his lips gently brushing hers. Nell angled her head trying to capture his lips as he pressed feather light kisses on either corner of her mouth before finally relenting and pressing their lips together.

Eric had opened that bathroom door afraid that he'd lose the peace he'd found in Nell's arms after laying his darkest day out before her. As much as he wanted to trust her he'd felt stiff and uncomfortable being back in these clothes. But the look she'd given him when she'd looked up and seen him standing there had brought back a little of his faith. The distance had never seemed further between his bathroom and his bed before as she started to walk towards him. He'd tried to tell himself he was seeing things, that she wasn't intentionally looking at him like she was undressing him one seam at a time, but that denial got less convincing the closer she got. When she'd started talking about the Gala – he knew she wouldn't lie to him, but he just couldn't wrap his mind around what it would mean if she was telling the truth. Then she'd slipped her hands around his neck leaning in so that she was pressed up against him and his mind went into free fall. He gently wrapped his arms around her not wanting to blink or hold her too tight in case it turned out to be a dream – the sensory overload of drifting off to sleep with her in his arms?

It was the apologetic note in her voice when she said it wasn't fair to ask tonight that had him sure that, for once, he was awake and she was really wrapped in his arms. Then she asked him to kiss her, had started voicing everything he'd longed to say to her and for a moment all he could hear was their hearts beating as one. Knowing what they wanted and prepared to risk it all. He almost waiting too long, not wanting to dive in and frighten her away. But that first brush of their lips; he was in heaven. And the more he had, the more he wanted.

What had started out as a gentle exploration quickly changed to a more desperate exchange that left them breathless.

Nell, catching her breath, her forehead leaning against Eric's, was amazed at the stillness of her mind; she'd never encountered anything before which consumed every available ounce of brainpower. There was no second-guessing, no interrupting thoughts, just how right this felt. It was an intoxicating feeling to someone who had lived with inherent multitasking all her life.

Then Eric's lips moved to her neck and she lost her ability to think at all.

When again they were again catching their breath, it was Eric who gently eased some space between them. Exerting willpower he didn't think he possessed he stopped Nell's questing mouth with a finger pressed to her lips.

Managing a husky whisper, "Nell – we have to slow down." He nearly lost his resolve when the tip of her tongue touched his finger and it was an effort to focus enough to hear her say softly, reluctantly, "I know."

Nell struggled to respond to the logic she usually held dear; she hadn't even noticed she was still standing on her toes. With a sigh she eased down onto flat feet, resting her head on Eric chest's as they both struggled for control.

Even knowing it would probably require more will power than either of them possessed Eric was unwilling to let her slip completely out of his arms, not wanting to contemplate waking up and not knowing if it'd been real. Eric pulled back gently, tipping her face up so he could look into her eyes. "I don't want to let you go. We need sleep and I probably should just take the couch but – can we – is it possible to – just sleep?"

"I don't wanna wake up without you either."

Nell's smile had Eric wondering if they were deluding themselves about being able to just sleep. Getting to the point where Nell just had her dress and he'd been reduced to jeans had them gritting teeth and surrendering to quick kisses but lying spooned around her – somehow it was enough.

For now.

Thankyou so much for reading; I'd love to know your thoughts and really appreciate critique too.