Oh my goodness… what have I got myself into here… another modern MM story… kinda flirty and then rather serious as we go along… Let's start with two strangers meeting in unexpected circumstances…
XX
They met in the rain.
Not a romantic, misty, sun dappled rain full of promise and romance.
But a sudden, Southern summer rain. Arriving abruptly with only the rumbling tar black clouds and heavy scent in the air as clues. It came in thick, driving sheets that pounded the pavement and slapped against panes of glass. The kind that causes localized flooding and the need to take immediate shelter.
The large, heavy drops blinded Matthew. Pushing the rain from his eyes, he scanned the street and moved towards the entrance to a pub he spotted on the corner. He could not believe the luck. His first day in Charlottesville and he found an English pub.
The deluge was like one at home as well. Maybe this stay in America doing the course at UVA for JAG officers wouldn't be so bad after all.
Matthew's hand slipped on the grip handle. The finger started to throb. He swore lightly and tried again. This time he pulled it open. Putting only one foot inside the establishment, he was blindsided by a blur of brunette hair that whirled past his vision, tickling his face.
"Ta." Said the words as she deftly ducked under his arm and through the now open door.
He remained outside, stunned. Getting soaked. Blinking rapidly. What the hell had just happened?
The wispy sensation of her hair against his cheek still uppermost in his thoughts.
But after his brain returned to normal functioning, he got mad.
"Oi wait up..." He slapped his head around to see the woman brush past him. Simultaneously she swept her hair back across her shoulder.
Taking in her long, impeccably manicured fingers easing their way slowly through the strands of her hair did not help his insensate state.
"You…" he sputtered… "You can't just push in like that…." God he felt a fool already, but the words came out of his mouth anyway.
As if she was just noticing him for the first time she looked at the man before her, "I can if I want too."
She gave the merest wisp of a smirk as she gazed back at him. "Besides, you don't really seem to mind."
One minute of knowing each other and she already could read Matthew like a book.
His lower lip twitched. "How do you know I don't mind?"
"You're about to ask me to lunch that's how." And she looked him up and down proper this time. Truth be told she had noticed him immediately upon arriving at the door to the pub. Close cropped blonde hair. Hip hugging jeans. Grey tee shirt. A book bag flung around his shoulder. The rain had made his shirt wet and close-fitting that exposed his tightly muscled abdomen in stark contour. Nice, she had thought.
"…what?" He was getting more confused, and turned on, by the second. She was magnificent, he thought.
"Weren't you?" A quirk of an eyebrow and he was a lost man.
But then she moved to turn away from him saying dismissively "It doesn't really matter to me either way…"
"You know." He rejoined quickly, desperate to get back her attention. And he pushed back the remaining wet drops out of his eyes. "Upon further contemplation, I think I will." And he smiled back at her. A stupid grin of a smile. A cheeky smile that danced at the corners.
"Good." The word almost singularly designed to completely undue whatever restraint was left in him.
He swallowed thickly. "Ok then…." And he finally turned his eyes away from hers to scan the room. He found a half-booth near the back. "How about over there?" Was it too obvious he was trying to find a secluded spot?
Mary let out the breath she was holding. She was more than relieved by his acquiescence than she could ever let on. Whatever had come over her? Used to a certain amount of wanted (and unwanted) attention, she seldom found herself lacking in male companionship. But usually she could care less whether they stayed or went.
But this mattered to her. She didn't exactly know why. This time she trembled when he, after a painful moment of uncertainty, he responded positively.
Recovering though she didn't let him see it, she nodded quickly, "Nice and cosy." And she began to walk in front of him towards the booth. Matthew hurried behind, allowing himself to think that she did that on purpose.
She slipped onto the long back bench. He took the seat directly in front. Better not to be too forward by sitting beside her. Besides, he rationalized, this way he could look directly into her eyes. Those eyes he could not get enough of. Dark pools of chocolate…God was he actually composing poetry?
He shook himself out of the reverie long enough to hear her say
"…and you are?..." Then the eyebrows went up again. This time in real confusion.
"Sorry!" He sat up straighter. Coughed and put his hand up to his mouth. Got up out of his chair. "Matthew Crawley, how do you do?" Hell…now he sounded like a prig.
He smiled to cover up his embarrassment. He had no idea what name she gave.
She made him wait just a minute to let the red flush his cheeks in a most delightful fashion. He bowed his head slightly as if to hide his blushing.
That made him only more attractive, she concluded. What was she to do? She tried not to let the fact that he shared her family name affect her. In fact in the four years of her attendance at the University of Virginia she had met at least five other Crawleys. Colonial ties of one sort or another. But in his case… in his case he was as English as a butter scone.
"Mary MacClare." She repeated the name. Any discomfiture she felt when he said his name was hidden amidst layers of a mask she had long learned to put in place. For Lady Mary Crawley had chosen, if not to hide her identity, at least to make it more difficult to ascertain her roots. She had chosen a distant family name for professional reasons. Wanting her career, at least her hopeful career, in musical theater to be unaffected by any family connection. So she eliminated using her mother's maiden name of Levinson as they were still a prominent family in Connecticut. And she certainly wouldn't use her real last name. Her parents were none too happy about her pursuing this dream and so she determined early on to discard her title and her aristocratic connections to the Crawley family and the Grantham Estate in York, England.
Matthew was recovering his voice. "How…" swallowed again. "How do you like it here in the States? I've just arrived this morning." That was it, he decided. The jet lag was catching up to him and making him a little loopy. He wanted more than anything to pay attention. The plan had been to catch a quick meal and then find his lodgings. He had to report for PT and duty the next morning and was to go to bed early to be refreshed and ready for the start of classes the next day.
That was simply not going to happen now. No way would he leave this pub without getting to know this woman.
"I've lived here on and off for about four years actually." Mary replied to the question. "Just graduated from UVA and working the summer deciding on some options." She usually refrained from telling anyone about her theater dreams. So few ever made it that she didn't want false sentiment or negativity to break her spirit.
"Ah. . Matthew said. "Working as….?" She was wearing a very slim fitting shirt and a stretchy cotton mini skirt that Matthew wondered about. Didn't seem like office attire? Or did it these days? He had no idea…the boots were ankle high and lovely. He tried not to glance down every time she unconsciously flicked her foot as she crossed her legs.
"Stripper…" Mary replied, annoyed at his obvious leering. Maybe he was just like all the other men.
"Ah right." Ask a stupid question… "Great.." He looked up in horror as he realized his faux pas. "What?"
She smiled, satisfied at his discomposure.
His mouth was agape. Eyes closed. He had lost his chance with her. Stupid. Stupid.
She took pity. "I'm a temp at a theatrical agency."
Matthew, obviously relief that he was not completely irredeemable, nodded with great interest.
So she continued. "I'm…I'm hoping to get a part off-Broadway soon. I go up for an audition to New York in a week." What made her tell him that?
"That's fantastic." He fell against the seatback. "I've never known anyone in theatre work. Must be quite challenging."
"Yes it is. I tell myself it's meant to be fun and all about fulfilling life long dreams and all…but the auditions are nerve wracking and once the jitters set in, it's hard to keep them under control. Especially if you think you've got the part, and then find out someone else did instead. You start to second guess everything. Freaks me out most of the time."
Mary found herself telling him things she never divulged to anyone. Was it the eyes? Kind and reflective of the emotions of those around him. They were magnetic for sure.
The server came around finally. Matthew had to admit he had not even glanced at the menu. Once the young man walked away, he pulled the menu up and began to read. He was expecting to find typical English fare of the steak and kidney pud or fish and chips.
But instead it seemed quite foreign considering the surroundings. But then when he looked around he had to admit the décor was more touristy English than a real pub atmosphere. The flags and "keep calm" posters more souvenirs than reality.
He looked up from the menu to meet Mary's eyes. His looked decidedly confused.
"What exactly is shrimp and grits?" He had vague memories of grits being something cowboys ate in American flicks he caught on late night television. But why add a crustacean to what seemed to be a breakfast food?
Mary laughed at that. She had gotten used to southern American fare. "Shrimp are like prawns. Except prawns are larger in size. It's good. You'll like it."
So shrimp and grits it was. He was also a bit put out that they had no beer on tap at the establishment. Not a real pub after all. His mouth twitched in disgust. They did have hard cider. That was a plus.
He ended up ordering classic German ale to start. He might try an American draught later or the local brew recommended on the advertisement sideboard.
Mary ordered a salad and gave the menus back to the server.
"So what about you then?" Mary could not figure him out. What was such an Englishman doing in Virginia? He was not an aristocrat. She could tell that by his voice. Hated herself for thinking that but she knew from birth to identify class through voice intonation and inflection and use of words. But he was educated. That she could tell as well, even if he was athletically built and carried himself square shouldered and rigid.
"I'm a lawyer if you'll believe it." He grinned at that. He knew he no longer looked the part. "I studied law at Oxford."
Mary was flabbergasted at that confession. "Oxford? Really?"
"Try not to look so surprised. They do let in middle class boys every now and then."
"I… "It was her turn to look embarrassed. "I didn't mean for it to come out like that. You … you just don't look…"
"Like some stuffy academic?" He guffawed slightly. "Granted that's true. I've been forced by circumstance to change my ways."
At her continued confusion, he explained. "I had my college fees paid for by the military. And in exchange I have to give them three years of service." It was that simple for him. It had made so much sense four years ago when he set out on this present path. In all honesty he wasn't so sure now. But it was too late.
"You mean you'll be sent to Afghanistan or Iraq or somewhere?" Her eyes darkened at that thought. "What made you do that?" As in no sane man of her acquaintance would do such a thing.
He stared open mouthed again. But this time with a certain amount of disdain. "Well I don't know what cushy circs you come from, but my mother could not afford it on her own and rather than work three or four odd jobs and have no time to study, I chose this option." He shrugged. Didn't mean for the words to come out exactly like that but he could tell she was posh. Coming to America for school only confirmed it. She had it good. Had no idea how other people had to live.
"I'm sorry…" Mary said simply. Trying to bite back her words. It was not her place to judge others.
"It's ok." He could have kicked himself. He didn't want to put her off. "I didn't realize how sensitive I was to it. Until you said it just then." Going to some far off war zone was indeed his greatest fear. He had let himself believe that he'd be seconded to DC or some other general staff headquarters and deal mostly with paperwork to serve out his time. But nowadays you could never tell.
"I don't really know where I'll be sent. I finished uni and went to Sandhurst for a year of officer training. They then sent me here to the JAG course so I could bone up on US law."
She nodded, encouraging him to continue.
"It seemed a way to extend my time from getting sent God knows where so I grabbed the opportunity. A bunch of us arrived early this morning." And he took a long swig of the German Kölsch. "Hmmm…this is good." And he smiled again.
He wanted to change the conversation. "I've barely got my bearings."
She took the hint. "Maybe I can help."
"Maybe you can." And he slid his chair up closer to the table. His hand strayed and stroked her finger.
She cocked an eyebrow. "What are your plans?" But she did not take her hand away from his tender ministration. It tingled her whole body.
"Absolutely nothing until I report in tomorrow morning." And he let that sink in with her. What was he doing? He had no idea but he wanted to continue it.
Mary's hand suddenly jerked away from his grip. She looked up and Matthew turned to see what was now in her line of sight.
"Who's that?" He asked, like it was any of his business. After all he had just met the woman.
"Uh… a friend." She replied vaguely. But the man who strode over to the table did not look like just a friend to Matthew. He looked rather something much more closer to a boyfriend.
"Mary." The tone was half questioning.
"Drew." She responded half-mocking. "I thought we were to meet an hour ago?" In all honesty she had forgotten the real reason she was even in that pub during this afternoon. It now came back to her. She had made a lunch date to meet him. But he had been late and she had window shopped for awhile before the rain threatened to soak her to the skin. She had taken off early that day just for the purpose and had, at the time, been quite put out. After the meeting with Matthew though, all thoughts of Drew had escaped her head.
Until now.
"I was caught up at the hospital." The usual excuse as Mary expected. He was an intern and on call practically 24 hours a day. It did not make for a good relationship. She had been considering dropping him.
Now she was really considering it.
Matthew stood up as if to give Drew his place. The first thing he noticed, rather shallow but true, was that Drew was shorter than he was. He gave a quick internal snort. That was vain.
"Matthew…?" Mary's voice took on a slightly flustered tone. "You…you don't have to go…"
But Matthew, especially encouraged by Mary's plea, had no intention of leaving. "No. I was just going to let him sit." And he pulled out the empty chair while he slid alongside the bench closer to Mary.
Drew took that in and noted the smooth move on Matthew's part. "Bastard." He muttered. But before he could even take the proffered seat, his mobile buzzed.
Mary rolled her eyes. She knew what that was. It was the hospital.
"They're calling me back." The brown eyed, floppy haired man looked the picture of dejection. He was going to have to leave Mary with this new guy. They weren't exclusive, he knew. She had made that clear. But damn it all…
"I've got to go." His shoulders sagged as he read the text. "Emergency."
Something Mary could never argue with. He was saving lives after all.
"Fine." She said crisply. "Call me later." But the tone was detached, resigned.
When Drew left, Matthew sagged against the seat back. He turned to Mary. "Was it something I said?"
And the both laughed.
"Drew is studying medicine. He's on call a lot." Mary explained, as if she had to.
Matthew merely nodded. He really didn't care. He wasn't sure where this all was going with Mary, but he was in for the ride.
"Maybe we should order another round?" And he called the server back. He wanted to try one of the Scotch whiskey on the liquor menu. Not distilled in Scotland itself, it still could be good.
Mary got a light wine and they continued to chat. She described a bit about Charlottesville, its history and local color. He drank in her words and her face. The alcohol was working on him slowly. Along with the exhaustion. And the jet lag.
His eyes began to close when she started on about Thomas Jefferson's role in the founding of the University in 1819. "Am I boring you?"
He roused himself enough to say "…hmmm? What? Yes Jefferson, Declaration of Independence and all that." He pulled his fingers down his cheeks and rubbed vigorously. He needed to wake up.
"Sorry…" Chagrin all over his face now. "I've had a really long day and I think it's finally catching up with me."
"Where are you staying?" Mary asked him, curious both to see if he had far to go and if he was close to her.
"I'm billeted with some other blokes in a flat near the JAG school. I honestly don't know exactly where it is." He admitted that sheepishly. He had meant to reconnaissance it that afternoon. But had gotten sidetracked. Sidetracked by the woman now nodding her head.
That was across town from her. She was much closer. "Are you going to drive?"
He had rented a car to get where he was. "Yes. I managed to get this far but got a bit lost. Thought I'd eat and then figure it all out. "
"Matthew. I don't think you're in any condition to drive. Especially on the right side of the road." She took in his drowsy appearance and buzzed head.
"I … I can manage…" but the slurred words only confirmed her suspicions.
"Come with me. I live only a couple blocks away. Let me get you some coffee and you can sober up and maybe grab a nap." Her condo was her own. She did not have to share as her father, begrudgingly, but generous paid her fees and rent just as Matthew suspected. She did not really have to work as a temp. She chose to do that.
"Would Drew mind?" And Matthew could not believe the words escaped his mouth. He had been thinking that Mary's boyfriend would not really like another man in her flat, but did not mean to actually vocalize them.
She gave him a look. "Drew has no hold over my life. We have an open arrangement. I come and go as I please." It had worked for her all through college. No long term commitments to force her to stay or follow someone else's dreams. Her life was her own. Her love life was well under control.
She could handle men.
Matthew, if anything, looked slightly astonished at that statement. And more than a little turned on. He had never met anyone like Mary before. She dazzled him.
Mary grabbed his arm. "Come on then." And they left the pub and turned the corner to a row of old stone cut buildings. Hers was on the left hand side of the street. A couple pots of flowers out front.
Matthew's arm slowly made its way around Mary's waist as they walked down the street. Half because he was needing some support. The rest because she was not resisting his advances. He had never been so forward with a woman he had just met before. But it felt so good. So right with her.
She took his arm away just long enough to open the door. He smelled her perfume, a combination of exotic citrus scents, that sent shivers along his spine as he took in the fragrance. He reluctantly let go.
But as soon as the door closed, they knew what was going to come next. Tangible. Inescapable. Their bodies came together. His lips moved onto hers. Her half opened mouth accepting his tongue, his lips, his taste. She gasped. Short bursts of breath escaped her mouth, barely breathing as she did not want to let go of his lips, as they clung to each other.
No one had ever kissed her like that.
His hands, semi-conscious of the action, slid up her thigh, tucking under her stretchy mini skirt and close to her rear end. His fingers gripped and pushed her body against his own. They moaned simultaneously in pleasure.
Mary, needing to breath, and believing things were going a bit too fast, pulled away slightly.
He let her go. "Sorry…" He mumbled into her ear as he reluctantly detached himself from her body.
"No need to be sorry." She pushed a strand of hair back atop his head. "Let's just go in and see where things lead."
But the beginning was good. It was all very, very good.
XX
Well that's it. Please review! It's going to get angsty of course. As my beta always says to me, why can't you just write happy MM? LOL… I can…but I love to make them earn it.
Ps: readers or listeners of a certain book might catch a glimpse of it in this story...interested to see if anyone picks up on it..