To all those who love this fandom, it should have been up on Christmas day but I had a technical glitch, but here it is anyway, enjoy.
I own nothing.
The Problem with Problems.
Its dark outside, well, it would be, its very late, or very early, depending on which way you look at it, but that's not the problem.
She's got the mother of all hangovers, a banging headache, a stomach that's doing somersaults, a mouth that feels like the bottom of the proverbial parrot's cage, and eyes that won't focus, no matter how many times she blinks to try and clear her vision, but that's not the problem either.
It's Christmas Eve, well, no, actually its Christmas day, 3.30am on Christmas morning to be precise, she's sat on her sofa wearing a pair of loose fitting pyjamas at 3.30am on Christmas morning, but no, that's not the problem.
She's supposed to be cooking Christmas dinner, it's 3.30am on Christmas morning, she feels like she's been run over by a large wine bottle, and she needs to cook a turkey and all the trimmings for Christmas dinner, but nope, that's not the problem either.
The problem happened after the wine, and before 3.30am, it came after dark, but before she found and donned the pyjamas. The problem is five foot eleven and a half inches of male flesh, with silver hair, and a shockingly mischievous grin. The problem probably feels as bad as she does, or he will do when he wakes, because at the moment the problem is lying under the duvet of her double bed, still very much under the influence of the vast amounts of alcohol that he, like her, drank this evening. The problem answers to the name of Boyd, Peter Boyd, very much shaken and thankfully not yet stirred.
The problem became a problem at about 11.30pm this evening, when he decided to hold aloft a small piece of mistletoe. Mistletoe that he'd acquired by somewhat dubious means, and kiss her goodnight. That was the start of her problems, they both went in for a small peck, but they both leant the same way, and then both turned the other way to correct the error, but as they giggled, and gazed and retried for that peck, the small problem became a bigger problem. He stopped trying for a peck, and instead went in for a full on kiss, a kiss that became a proper snog with tongues. Although its caused her nothing but problems, she still can't help smile when she thinks of that moment, the moment when he pulled away from her and, gave her that smile, that bloody smile, the one that would get him anywhere, or should that be anyone, or even anything?
She has a sudden and very vivid flashback as she sits there, it's an image she could well do without. Too much to drink, the back of a taxi and a very overly enthusiastic Boyd, who took it upon himself to continue his seduction attempts in the back of a black cab.
"Oh god!" she groans in a very whining tone, her voice still very gruff from the alcohol consumption, that and the loud singing and talking. Talking or more precisely shouting to be heard over the noise of a pub full of drunk people singing along to the 80's soundtrack being played. She whines again, this time no words can be heard, just a noise that sounds very much like a puppy whining for attention, this time she remembers singing along to, Don't you want me baby? Oh god she thinks, she didn't just sing along, she sang it to Boyd, winking at him as she sang that infamous line.
Desperate to forget her embarrassing antics, she tries to banish them from her mind, but it only creates another problem, the vision that takes its place is no better. The creepy taxi drivers face as they realised that he was watching them a little too intently, and the panic she felt as she pulled away from Boyd and pushed his hand back down her thigh, followed by the mouthful of abuse he gave the taxi driver for his trouble. Her cheeks flush bright red even at the thought of it.
She sits forward and puts her head in her hands, but it causes her head to pound a little harder, and her stomach to churn a little faster, she reaches for the glass of water on the table in front of her, but in her haste she knocks it flying, cursing loudly in the process. She rushes to get a cloth, and returns to the spillage, she kneels down carefully, so as not to cause any further distress to her banging head and whirling stomach, and begins to clean it up. She's facing away from the door and cursing and moaning under her breath to herself, so she doesn't see or hear him coming down the stairs.
He stands in the doorway for a minute, admiring the view. "Now that's something you don't see every day." He says with a smile whilst leaning against the door frame.
Grace almost jumps out of her skin, she turns around with such speed that she puts her foot in the water that she has just spilled on the floor. "For fucks sake, what are you trying to do, give me a heart attack?" She snaps, whilst holding her wet foot up.
Boyd walks over to her and grabs the cloth from her. "Sit down and give me your foot." She does as he suggests, and he gently dries her foot. "What the bloody hell are you doing up in the middle of the night?" He enquires.
"Trying to work out what the bloody hell you're doing in my bed in the middle of the night."
"Wow, it was memorable then?"
"I wouldn't have a clue, I seem to have developed amnesia that started just after we had to walk home, because the taxi driver threw us out."
He grimaces, and looks away from her, continuing to dab the water on the carpet, he notices a small box on the table in front of him. "Ooh, are they headache tablets?"
"Yes." She replies, and watches as he reaches forward for the box, and something suddenly dawns on her. "Why the bloody hell haven't you got any clothes on?"
He looks down at himself. "I've got my shorts on."
"Well could you go and make yourself decent please?"
"It would take more than clothes Grace." He says with a boyish grin, and she can't help but smile back at him, as much as she tries to stop herself. "Can I have a sip please?" He says pointing to the glass in her hand.
"You'll need to ring out that cloth first, its empty." She holds the glass up so he can see its empty.
He takes the glass from her hand and stands up again, "I'll get some more from the kitchen." He returns quickly and plonks himself down next to her on the sofa.
"Do you have to sit so close?"
"What?"
"You're practically sat on my lap."
"Well I could sit on your lap if you'd rather?"
"I'd rather you weren't here. I'd rather suffer on my own. I'd rather go back to bed and get up on new year's day."
"Number threes okay by me." He says whilst holding her gaze.
"Oh grow up Boyd, and while you're at it go home."
"That's not very nice."
"Good, cos I don't feel very nice."
"Well it's not my fault. I don't remember holding your head back and pouring it down your throat."
"Wouldn't surprise me, you probably spiked my drinks."
"Now who needs to grow up? What exactly is your problem?"
"You. More specifically you being in my house in the middle of the night. You being in my bloody bed in the middle of the night. You being sat on my couch almost naked in the middle of the bloody night." Her voice gets a little louder with each sentence, and Boyd stares back at her in a stunned silence.
"I could be wrong, but I'm sensing you have the hump with me for something?" He says with a straight face.
"Don't try being clever, it doesn't suit you."
"Being a bear with a bloody sore head doesn't suit you, but I don't see you stopping."
She glares at him. "Yeah well, the bloody sore head's true. What the hell were we drinking?"
"I don't really think what we were drinking was the problem, more a case of how much. Can you really not remember anything?"
"I'm okay until the taxi, then it all becomes a bit of a blur."
"Bloody slimy little weasel he was, get off on watching other people, scum bag."
"Yeah well maybe other people shouldn't be, getting off, as you put it, in the back of his bloody taxi."
"We were kissing Grace."
"Oh really? Now who's got amnesia?" She replied, giving him a questioning look.
"What?"
"Just a kiss?"
"Yeah."
"If it was just a kiss, as you say, he'd have had nothing to bloody, get off, on. He thought a porn film was being filmed in the back of his taxi."
"What a load of bollocks, okay it was more than a kiss, and perhaps we got a little carried away, but it wasn't that bad,"
"Just a bloody minute. We? We got carried away?"
"Well I wasn't snogging my own face off."
"I don't remember trying to get my hand inside your underwear, and god knows where else if I hadn't stopped you."
"Mores the pity."
"Oh so you're not denying it then?"
"Grace, my head hurts, I don't want to talk about this anymore, I just want to go to bed."
"So put your clothes on and go home."
"I meant your bed."
"Yeah I gathered that, but I think it would be better for both of us if you went home. We can't turn back time, so we'll have to put last night behind us, and just move on."
"What?"
"I said we should put last night behind…"
"Put what behind us?" He interrupts before she finishes.
"Do you really need me to spell it out for you?"
"I think you need to, because I'm confused."
"Sex Boyd, okay, we had sex, now I think we should just get over it and move on."
"Bloody hell, you really do have amnesia."
"I don't remember a bloody thing, so if I said something embarrassing, if I declared my undying love for you in the heat of the moment, or asked you to marry me, or whatever, then I would be eternally grateful if you kept it to yourself, and just left, I'm already dying from embarrassment."
"You didn't declare anything to me in the heat of the moment Grace, because there wasn't one."
"What?"
"There wasn't a heat of the moment."
"I won't hold it against you, but I'd rather just forget it all."
"Hold what against me?"
"If I didn't, you know… if you couldn't make me…if I was left unsatisfied!"
"You weren't left unsatisfied, I was."
"Oh for god's sake, could you just say whatever it is you are trying to say and put me out of my bloody misery, then with a bit of luck the ground will open up and swallow me, before I die of embarrassment."
"Okay, you fell asleep."
"Yeah, well I gathered that being as I woke up in bed."
"Nothing happened Grace, when we got back here we were both hammered, we had a bit of a kiss in the hallway, and then you said you wanted to go to bed, and asked me if I was going to join you. So we went upstairs, we undressed and climbed in bed, we started kissing and getting to know each other, I started to kiss your neck, and when I looked to see if you were enjoying it, you were out cold."
"What? Really? Nothing happened, you're not just saying it?"
"No, nothing happened I didn't lay a hand on you. I pulled the covers over you, kissed your forehead and left you to sleep."
"So I've been sat here worrying about a problem that doesn't exist."
"Well, if you see it as a problem, then yes."
"You don't see it as a problem?"
"Do you remember what happened before the taxi?"
"When we kissed?"
"Yes, we kissed, and then you took my hand and pulled me into the alley down the side, and we kissed some more, and we both said some things. I told you…"
"You wanted me. You said you wanted me, and you had for quite a long time." She says as it all comes back to her.
"And you said?" He prompts her.
"I told you I knew, I knew and I felt the same, that I wanted you in every way possible."
"Yep, so when we got in the taxi, I couldn't keep my hands off you, and you weren't backwards in coming forwards yourself."
Grace gently bites her bottom lip as she remembers it all, the kiss, the alley, the taxi and the hallway, and then nothing. "Did I really fall asleep?"
"Yep, left me with a very a big problem."
"I think I'll be the judge of that Peter." She replies whilst moving to sit on his lap.
"The judge of what?"
"The size of that problem of yours." She adds as she glances down at his shorts, before leaning in to kiss him. "Merry Christmas." She whispers to him.
"Merry Christmas Grace."
The end
Hope you all had a very merry Christmas.