Collaborative fic. Matthew / Alice, pre-ship fluff.
1. Alice has been used before. She is nothing but a woman in a man's world. She has been used by neighbour's son as a diversion for the shopkeeper to steal some candy, her friend in school being interested more in her homework than herself. A fellow student trying to leech of her skill, and to get into her dress, a creep with wandering hands just like Orton had been. All these men bleed into her self-defence, her childhood a dark pit of pain and abuse. The hands and comments never stopped.
2. Munro had tried to get to Lucien, her fate of no importance to him. Each and everyone had used her when they could, with Lucien being the sole exception. He was a broken soul like her, a survivor of his past. She can't get past the memories but she wishes she could. If she wants to be happy for once, to use this chance for respect and tender caring she needs to be able to let go and trust Matthew. She knows him, knows that he is an honest man, a good man.
3. She has seen him work, had listened to Lucien talk about him, has observed him caring for injured women and children. The rough policeman's appreciation for Jean is true and honest. Still the fear of being made a joke, of being used for his amusement is ingrained too deep into her and she wonders if she could ever let him in. – cookie-moi
She is sure of herself, in her own little world, constructed safely from books and medicine and rebuffing any advances that may compromise her reputation or limit her career. She is confident only as far as the exact walls and dimensions of her small corner of the universe afford her surety in her skills as a doctor. She feels safe, precisely because she does not test.
Trusting Matthew - exploring the potential of the something that sizzles between them in the absence of their newly married friends… trusting Matthew is a very big test. They share quiet dinners that are not named, sequestered at the Blake house, seeking out companionship while the Blakes are exploring the world. She keeps coming over because they are two solitary souls who have somehow made a home in the shelter of their (much braver, in her opinion) friends, and the house is too big for one man to be alone for months. She knows they share that loneliness too. She cannot name the feeling; has never been in love to compare it too, never had such a close male friend to confide in before. She can't name it, but she likes it, so she keeps coming back and hopes it will one day name itself.
There is no pressure with Matthew; no expectation. He doesn't sidle up to her on the couch, or lean in too close while they share the washing up, or use their social interactions as leverage when they inevitably work together. But he also doesn't keep his distance either, comfortable enough to stand close to her while reading autopsy reports, or touch her hand to get her attention. It's the same easy warmth he shows Lucien, their life-long friendship running deep, and she appreciates that he's equally comfortable with her to do the same. And perhaps part of her is waiting for him to show different colours and prove her reticence justified. Perhaps, says a small voice, he is waiting for her guard to be down. Just like all the others. But no. Matthew takes her company in his stride. He makes quips in the office only she will understand, and smiles when she does, and then they laugh about it later when they make dinner side-by-side. He treats her with affection but not expectation, and that alone keeps her coming back to him week after week.
He's not much of a cook - just enough to get by and not starve to death - but he encourages her to try, and to not be deterred by the occasional burnt pastry. It's just chemistry, really, he says one day while stirring a Bechamel sauce, and like that the penny drops. It's just chemistry. Heat to a certain degree to allow for the molecular change, drop the temperature, turn the meat, stir the ingredients to prevent an adverse reaction. In a matter of a couple of weeks she is cooking him dinner on her own, beaming with pride as she serves it up at the kitchen table. Rose is there too, and Matthew claps (exaggerated but not unkind) and they both congratulate her on a job very well done.
Later, when Rose has gone home and the two of them are watching television on the couch in companionable silence, he takes her hand in his, pats it affectionately, then raises it and kisses the backs of her fingers.
"Well done on dinner" he says, his voice sounding so proud of her, but she's far too taken aback to respond right away. He looks at the wide-eyed expression on her face and just smiles in amusement, understanding that if she didn't want to be there she would have left already. He turns back to the television but keeps her hand in his resting on his leg, not at all suggestive. Her first reaction is that he's making fun of her; teasing her. But this is Matthew, and his hand is so warm wrapped around hers, and his face still holds that same smile even as his attention is diverted.
"Like you said" she rasps. "It's just chemistry"
He looks at her again, his smile softening around the edges, eyes flicking very briefly to her lips and back to her eyes, but he doesn't move.
"Yeah. Exactly" he says, and when they both look back to the screen she shuffles against his side and rests her head on his shoulder, and they don't move until it's absolutely imperative that she get home. And she realises, as she's driving familiar streets, that she doesn't need to wonder if she can let him in. She already has. And it feels wonderful.