A/N: Hello! So here is the final chapter and t is a bit of a beast. Sorry about that!
Btw there a couple of mentions of pigs in here and I SWEAR that they were all written before... a certain news story swept the nation. Honestly. Editing this was a slightly shocking yet hilarious experience.
Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this and thanks for coming along for the ride!
It was two weeks later that found Hardy watching a barge drift down a river and resisting the urge to check his watch again. He'd somehow managed to avoid traffic and arrived ten minutes earlier than he'd been planning to. Any other day he'd have been grateful, but today he was waiting for Miller, who'd had no such luck and was going to be a ten minutes late. With little else he could do, Hardy was left to wait around in front of the multi-story car park they'd arranged to meet at.
The view of the river, flanked by blossoming flowers and the sun reflecting off the water would have been calming for someone else. Hardy, however, was more on edge than he would have otherwise been. He turned his back on it to read the car park security notices in order to ignore it just as two teams of rowers went by, the shouts of their coxes' impossible to shut out. He slouched against the broken ticket machine he was stood by.
Though he hadn't seen Miller since the morning after Tom had gone to hospital, they'd been in contact in some way nearly every day since. After he'd got home after the disastrous meeting at Daisy's school, he'd phoned her to vent his frustrations to her. She'd text him when SOCO Brian had announced his engagement to a stunned Broadchurch station. Last week, he'd emailed her a couple of witness statements to double check that he wasn't the only one seeing the tiny hole in one of them. When Tom finally told her what the boys had said to him about his dad, Miller had phoned him while walking along the cliff tops. They spent nearly two hours talking that time, with subjects ranging from Joe and Danny to the bargain she'd found at Asda the day before when Hardy thought her voice sounded a bit thick.
For the most part Hardy had always seen texting as a simple method of communication, but never really held full conversations through it, having always preferred phone calls. Or just ignoring people altogether. Now, though, any time he encountered something that pissed him off or amused him, he found himself reaching for his phone to let Miller know.
Somehow the office printer breaking one Monday morning had led to them being in contact all day. The whole incident should have been infuriating - and it still was - but it was made so much more bearable with Miller's running commentary and ridiculous solutions. Even though the messages were toneless and made of tiny black pixels, the light she took everywhere with her still shone through.
(Have you tried turning it off and on again?
It won't turn on
There's your problem :)
Helpful
I've looked it up on the internet. There should be something called a 'plug' that you need to attach to the wall.
Yeah we've checked that thanks
We? just how many fully trained officers of the law is it taking to fix a printer?)
Even now, frustrated with waiting, his fingers were twitching to let Miller know, even though she was the one he was waiting for and she was too busy driving to reply.
This whole trip was the result of one of their phone conversations. Since they'd kissed, Hardy had been desperate to find a way for them to see each other again, but couldn't think of an excuse to organically bring them together. A trip down with Daisy would have been ideal, but she was currently in the dog house and, as much as he loved spending time with his daughter, he didn't want the added distraction.
From their conversations, Hardy knew that Miller still wanted him in her life. The problem was if she just needed a friend, he didn't want to ruin that. Things were more settled for her compared to how they were before the trial but there were still people in Broadchurch who doubted her. There were even a couple of her colleagues at the station who weren't happy about her return. The last thing she needed now was him blundering in.
Unless she wanted him to.
He had no idea either way. Despite talking so frequently neither of the had brought up what had happened in her darkened kitchen that night.
"Sixteen. When did that happen?" he'd said to Miller on the phone as he collapsed onto his sofa after the Day of the Printer.
"It hasn't happened yet."
"No, but I've still only got a month to get used to the idea of having a sixteen year old."
"If you're like this now, I dread to think about your reaction to her eighteenth."
"What are you supposed to do with sixteen year olds anyway? It's not like when she was wee and she'd do whatever. I think if I suggested we went - I don't know - bowling for her birthday she'd tell me to piss off."
"You went bowling?"
"Is this your idea of support?"
"Sorry. Just trying to picture you in the shoes."
Hardy sighed. For Daisy's last couple of birthdays he'd sent a card with a gift voucher and received brief phone calls in return. This year he felt he had to make up for it but had no idea how.
"I've got Friday off work. Should probably go shopping then. I was thinking of going down to Bristol or something like that? At least Daisy won't have already bought whatever I end up getting her."
"You know all shops have pretty much the same stock, right?" Miller told him as he thought he heard her put a mug down. "All across the country?"
"Come with me," he said without thinking too much about it. "You get Fridays off anyway."
"Yes, I'd love to just abandon my children to deal with your midlife crisis. Thanks for asking."
Something about her tone made him wonder if his request had come across ruder than he intended.
"Tom'll be at school and you said Fred would be going to that nursery trial day Friday. What else have you got on? Come on, Miller." He waited for her to respond for a couple of beats before realising what he'd forgotten. "Please."
There was a heavy exhale on the other of the line, followed by a "fine."
Hardy couldn't really believe that it had been so simple in the end. A shopping trip could be completely platonic. Then again, they would probably get lunch at some point and that could be made slightly less platonic.
Or a lot less platonic if he managed to bring up the kiss.
Or a complete shitstorm if he managed to bring up the kiss and she shut him down.
How would he even mention it subtly anyway?
"This beef is the best thing to happen in a kitchen since our kiss. By the way, have you had chance to think about that at all?"
"Sorry about the delay. Think there was an accident before junction eighteen."
Hardy spun around and was greeted with the face that'd occupied his waking and occasionally sleeping moments for at least a month now. "Miller."
"Hey."
She stopped a couple of steps from him and smiled. He felt himself doing the same thing. Even though they'd been arranging and double checking the plan for the day for most of the week, he still hadn't wrapped his mind around actually seeing her again. He wondered briefly if he should try and hug her or something. She was making no move to do anything similar so Hardy opted to play it safe. It wouldn't do to ruin the day before they'd even started.
The seconds ticked by without either of them saying anything else and Miller shuffled on the spot.
"The river looks pretty," she remarked, squinting over his shoulder at it. "I haven't been here for ages. Years, probably."
He nodded vaguely, not interested in the river in the slightest. His attention was completely focussed on what Miller was wearing. He'd known her long enough to recognise the functional outfits she usually wore to work or the baggy jumpers for when she was planning on staying in all day. Today she'd opted for leggings and longer top made of some floaty material. Her hair wasn't pinned down within an inch of its life or just left to the elements but nicely styled. It was casual but not her usual haphazard I've-got-a-toddler-and-no-time-to-care look. She was wearing slightly more make-up than usual and a necklace as well.
It would've be unwise for him to read too much into any of it, but whatever it meant, Hardy thought she looked radiant.
"Shall we get going, then?" she said nodding her head towards the path that led further into the city centre. "Why did you want to meet all the way out here, anyway?"
"The road layouts here are abysmal. You probably save an hour parking outside of it all."
"And here was me thinking you enjoyed the scenery."
They walked for half an hour, following the river, their conversation just as winding and gentle. Underneath it though, Hardy could feel a riptide, churning below surface and begging him to go with it to the depths. Miller was carrying on as though she had no knowledge of it and he didn't know if he envied or hated her for it.
They finally reached a shopping centre, filled with chrome, glass and light and as soulless as its counterparts around the country. The same shops in different arrangements and a food court where all of the world's cuisine were thrown together and left to die. It was all so sterile it reminded him of hospitals and brought him about as much joy.
"Ooh, this is a bit fancy, isn't it?" enthused Miller from his side. "They've got one of those sweetcorn stands, look. Have you ever tried it?"
Without giving her question the dignity of anything more than frown, Hardy started up the long line of shops, eyes flicking across the familiar logos in the hope of inspiration.
"Any idea what to get her?" Miller asked when they reached the epicentre of the capitalist disaster zone. Hardy stopped by the fountain and looked around.
"Nah," he sighed, turning his back on a teenager trying to hand him a leaflet.
Miller pointedly took the leaflet offered to her with a smile before addressing him again. "How about a charm?"
"A what?"
She nodded to a jewellery shop on the upper level. All Hardy could see of it was the bright sign over the entrance. It grated against his eyeballs just as much as any of the others in the building and he wondered why she'd singled this one out.
"She's got one of those Pandora bracelets, hasn't she?"
"I don't know what that is."
"It's a bracelet-"
"Really?"
"Fine," Miller huffed. "You find your own bloody present and I'll stand there acting like an arsehole."
Hardy chewed the inside of his mouth and looked away from her. Everything about being here had him on edge. He hated the chattering idiots around him, smiling as though being somewhere designed to rob them of as much money as possible was fun in some way. He hated the useless crap the majority of the shops peddled. He hated the smell of floor cleaner, stagnant water and recycled air. He hated that he couldn't just ask Miller why she'd agreed to come or any of the other questions burning his tongue. He hated that his defence strategy for being put in these situations was to become a irritable and jittery bastard.
He hated that this was his daughter and he didn't know her well enough to think of what she might want for her birthday.
He hated that Dave might have already bought her something she actually wanted.
"Sorry," he mumbled, trying not to be offended by Miller's perplexed expression. "What's this bracelet?"
"You buy the bracelet and then you can add charms to personalise it. She was wearing one when you came down to visit last time."
"You sure?" he asked sceptically. He knew Miller had an eye for details, but honestly couldn't see how she could distinguish one brand of bracelet from another.
She nodded. "I asked her about the charms she had on it."
"Can you remember them?"
"I think so."
He mulled over the idea. "That's actually brilliant."
Miller's face split into a proud grin that she tried to reign in. Part of him wanted to tell her not bother, that she always looked so pretty when she smiled. Another part of him found how humble she was incredibly endearing and never wanted her to change.
He stared at her for what felt like a second too long to be normal before heading towards to escalator. She followed him up halfway before they came to a stop behind a small group of students.
"Just because they move, doesn't mean they aren't still stairs," he muttered under his breath. "You can still walk up them."
Miller elbowed him in the side but her mouth twitched.
Finally, they reached the next level but had to walk around the perimeter to get to the other side, thanks to the architect's need to have the place physically resemble the cavernous vacuum it already was culturally. They entered to the shop and Hardy nodded at the over-dressed orange woman that greeted him before approaching the nearest cabinet.
"So which ones does she already have?" he asked Miller quietly, highly aware that the salesman a couple of feet away was probably listening. It made him uncomfortable that he was going to use anything overhead when he inevitably approached them to try and manipulate them into buying something. He used a similar technique when he was interrogating suspects and it didn't seem the sort of skill that was also necessary for selling shiny bits of metal.
"She had one with daisies on it and one with an Eiffel Tower. Said she got it in Paris."
"She went with Tess last year," he said, his attention still on the tiny charms laid out in front of him. He felt a tug on his sleeve.
"It's a silver bracelet," Miller said, pulling him towards the next cabinet. "Those charms are all gold."
He nodded his thanks to her, failing to stop himself noticing how close they were now standing to one another as they looked at the charms. The noise from outside was strangely absent in the bubble of the shop and it created an atmosphere that felt more intimate than the situation surely required.
"Anything I can help you-"
"Just looking," Hardy said, interrupting the salesman without looking up at him.
"Thanks," Miller added.
There were so many that Hardy didn't know where to begin. Judging by how few charms Daisy had compared to some of the pictures used in the display and what they were, she was picking out charms that meant something to her.
Then again, it could have been because they were astonishingly expensive.
There were plenty with simple jewels or intricately patterned hearts that she'd probably like, but he couldn't see how they would be significant to her. The frustration he was already wrestling with increased tenfold and he tried to push it down, knowing it wouldn't help.
How was he meant to find a tiny bead that represented everything she was to him? Daisy was such a complex and intelligent person and he'd had the pleasure of watching her become that. Yes, he'd missed a couple of years, but was back now and he needed to show her that he was her father. Anyone could buy her fancy jewellery if they had the money but he had held her before she'd even opened her eyes and planned to do the same until his last breath.
"Any ideas?" Miller whispered and he shrugged.
He passed over the rows of hearts, angel wings and gems only to discover a section made of musical instruments and stars. What had been a wonderful idea was suddenly falling apart at the seams.
Feeling the pressure, he approached the last cabinet with bated breath and found a row of chubby animal faces smiling out at him.
"Those are cute," remarked Miller, scrunching her nose up.
"Aye," he agreed, as his eyes found a charm so perfect he wouldn't have believed it if he hadn't seen it. "That one," he pointed out.
"The pig?"
"Next to it."
"Is that a panda? Why a panda?"
"Have you made a decision, sir?" the salesman asked before he had chance to reply. Hardy nodded and soon the purchase was made. He was so pleased with his find, he didn't begrudge paying a bit extra for gift wrapping or get too annoyed with the man's commission fueled parting smile.
They had left the shop and were walking aimlessly along the balcony when Hardy spoke again.
"When Daisy was four or five, she got chicken pox. Half the school had it, I think," he recalled and Miller's attention snapped from the window displays to him. "Anyway, only one of us could have the day off and I had a meeting or something so Tess stayed.
"Daisy was already grouchy from being ill, but she wanted me to stay as well and cried all morning. By the afternoon, I phoned home and she refused to speak to me she was still so upset."
"Bit of a daddy's girl?" smiled Miller.
"Could say that. I felt bad - it was the first time she'd been off sick - so on the way home I went and bought her this giant stuffed panda to try and cheer her up. The thing was bigger than she was."
"Why a panda?"
"I don't bloody remember. Probably the closest one to the door of Toys R Us. But she loved it and still had it in her room last time I was in there. Named it Panda Pop. Carried it around everywhere. Insisted it sleep in her bed, leaving her curled up in the corner."
Miller giggled. "Reminds of the time that Joe-"
She sobered immediately and turned away, her movements jerky as she gripped the strap on her bag. The fuzzy mix of successfully finding a present and reminiscing they'd been enjoying turned cold. Hardy reached his hand out to rest it on her shoulder but dropped it, grateful she missed the entire movement.
"Sorry," she said, flashing him a smile that immediately fell away, leaving behind the sort of pain that had been a permanent fixture in her eyes during Joe's trial. He hadn't seen it in a while and something about its reappearance made him ignore his misgivings and grab her hand.
She came to a sharp stop and glanced down at their conjoined hands before turning her wide eyes onto him.
"It's okay," he told her. He wasn't sure what else to say so tried to show how he felt non-verbally. That he understood that a huge portion of her memories were now marred by Joe's presence in them. That he knew she was going to have these slip-ups on occasion. That if she ever needed or wanted to talk about anything to do with her ex then he was willing to listen.
Biting her lip, she met his eyes unflinchingly and did her best to nod. He squeezed her hand but didn't let go of it. Facing one another, hands entwined, was the position they'd been in when he first kissed her two weeks ago. Even with the sun streaming through the glass ceiling and the background hustle and bustle, he couldn't help but think of that silent kitchen and how she'd looked in the moonlight.
Somehow, he knew she was thinking about it too.
She stepped away from him and he shoved his fist into his pocket, hoping it would retain some of her warmth.
"All done? Or do you want to get her a card?" she asked too brightly.
Hardy cleared his throat. "I'll get the card nearer the time. There was this show she was talking about the other day. Could get her the DVD?"
As they tried to locate the nearest HMV, Miller advised Hardy to check with Tess if Daisy already had what they were looking for. There'd been no reply by the time they found one and they split up, Hardy to find the present and Miller to see if she could get something Tom had been asking about and something for Fred so he didn't feel left out. The moment Hardy reached the right aisle, Tess replied to his text telling him she'd already bought the boxset as part of her own gift.
"Shit."
He went off in search of Miller, for once lamenting her lack of beacon-like coat. Eventually he found her by the till with a football game and Peppa Pig DVD in hand.
"Any luck?"
"Three guesses what Tess has got her?"
She winced sympathetically. "A pony?"
Miller paid for her items and they left the shop. Hardy knew he was scowling, but didn't care. For a moment it felt as though all of the work he'd put in to reconnect with Daisy had paid off, only for Tess to remind him that he'd only scratched the surface. Deep down he knew Tess had done nothing spiteful but it was still a reminder that she saw her every day.
Everything he had done when Sandbrook first blew up, he had done to protect them both. At the time he had never really thought about just how much he would have to sacrifice for it.
"In here," Miller said, pulling him out of his thoughts and into a Waterstones. "All of these shows nowadays have their own novels and graphic novels and making of behind the scenes guides."
"Yeah, to bleed even more money out of you," Hardy scoffed.
"Obviously. But it also gives you twice as many gift options," she smiled knowingly.
"Miller, you are amazing."
Ten minutes later, they left the book shop with a couple of companion novels that had only been released the week before. Hardy sent Tess a quick text to warn her off buying them herself and they headed out of the shopping centre at long last.
Breathing in the fresh air, even if it was filled with pollution, made Hardy's muscles relax. For the first time in two years he'd got something he knew Daisy would like and would even get to see her open it. Once again, he was glad he'd taken the risk and gone under the knife just so he could experience moments like these.
The realisation of what was at his fingertips gave him a headrush.
"Want some lunch?" he said on an exhale. "My treat."
Miller's eyebrows shot up her forehead as she tucked a strand of curls behind her ear. "You're paying?"
"Aye. A thank you for all your help." He tried not to show how anxious he was but his nerve was slipping the longer his invitation went unanswered. It took another blow when she laughed at him.
"A thank- Are you feeling okay?"
"Don't be like that."
"Like what? You once had me drive all the way to Portsmouth without a thank you!"
"Once is hardly-"
"And all of those trips to Sandbrook. And all over Broadchurch. Not to mention-"
"For fu- Just shut up and have lunch with me."
A couple of people stopped and stared at his outburst, but Hardy only had eyes for Miller who was eyeing him with something that could have been wonder but possibly shock. Either way, it wasn't fury for which he was grateful.
"Okay, then," she replied when he thought he was going to need a new pacemaker to cope with the strain. "Lunch with you, it is."
"Great," he replied with exasperation, but inside was a completely different story. There was something about the way she agreed that told him that she had cottoned onto his intentions. "There's a load of places by the waterfront down here."
"How do you know Bristol so well?" she asked as they started in the direction he'd pointed out.
"Came here for that job interview a couple of weeks ago," he said, referring to the one he'd cancelled at the last minute to join Tom in hospital. He deliberated for a moment before adding, "Plus there was the interview I actually showed up for Wednesday."
"What? You never told me!"
"Didn't want to jinx it."
"Did you get it?"
"Said they'd get back to me by Monday. Seeing as they gave me another go, I reckon they're desperate enough to give the worst cop in Britain a job."
It was impossible to not return the smile Miller was giving him. She nudged him with her shoulder. "Don't know who'd be happier if you get it: you or the poor bastards you have to teach."
They walked the short journey to the waterfront, lined with restaurants on either side and more boats than Hardy could count. Between that and the more traditional design of the area, it reminded him of Broadchurch as much a major city could. If the restaurants hadn't all been part of larger chains then he could've easily pretended to be looking out from the back step of his old home by the sea.
Beside him, Miller checked her phone before placing it back in her bag. "What do you fancy?"
Hardy shrugged and pointed to the place they were stood outside of. "There?"
"What do they do, then?"
"No idea."
She rolled her eyes at him and approached the menu. "It all looks a bit spicy." She glanced around her, her eyes lighting up when she saw something further down. "Ooh, Beth said she went there a couple of months ago. It's Italian or something."
With it being a weekday afternoon, the restaurant was quiet and they were seated almost immediately. The floor to ceiling windows that overlooked the water made the place appear bigger than it probably was. Unlike a few restaurants he'd been to over the years, Hardy found he preferred them when they were more open rather than stuffy and so dark you could barely read the menu.
Hardy dug his glasses out of his jacket pocket and searched his menu for the salad section. Months had passed and he still hadn't snapped out of the habit. With the rest of the menu now fully available to him, he felt a bit lost with so much choice.
"I might just get the caesar salad," he said, going for the only salad he could comfortably pronounce the name of. He doubted the food itself was as authentic as the menu boasted so there was no reason why they couldn't put the names in English. It'd embarrass English speakers less and probably reduce the offence to actual Italian food.
"Salad?" grimaced Miller.
"I thought you liked caesar salad?"
"Since when?"
Hardy folded his menu. "Since I made you one and you said "I liked that.""
"Oh." Miller bit her lip. "I might have told a porkie. I hate salad. Why get salad when you can have proper food?"
"Proper- I spent ages making that!" spluttered Hardy. "Why didn't you tell me? Why eat it if you hated it so much?"
"I was being polite! You don't get given free food by someone and then throw it back in their face! Oh wait - you do."
Rather than replying, Hardy turned back to his menu and tried to pick a pasta dish instead. A waitress approached them and Miller dealt with it. The way she kept the conversation away from him almost seemed like an act of contrition for her outburst.
"And a caesar salad with-"
"Actually can I have the rigatoni instead," Hardy interrupted, putting his glasses away
The waitress looked surprised to hear him talk but recovered quickly enough. "Would you like to add chicken to your-"
"No."
They settled into a comfortable silence and, even though they were in public and surrounded by conversation, it didn't feel strange. While he was always content to keep to himself, he knew Miller had a habit of wittering on whenever no one else was talking. Now, however, she was sat across from him, watching the world pass her by out of the window.
Their food arrived and they both complimented what they each had. Hardy was only on his third mouthful when something began ringing from under the table. Miller scrambled for her bag and emerged with her phone.
"Sorry," she said, holding it to her ear. "Hi!"
Hardy picked at his meal for a couple of minutes while Miller talked to Lucy by the sounds of things. It appeared the two sisters were getting on at the minute, judging by the lack of scowling on Miller's part. After a quick word with Fred - or at least Hardy hoped she'd been talking to Fred - her phone was dropped on the table with another apology.
"Lucy's just picked him up from the nursery," she explained. "Apparently he was a superstar and they'll have no problem with him in September!"
"Did you seriously doubt that?" Hardy asked. "The boy could win over… well… me."
"True," Miller smiled and her phone beeped again. "Lucy's sent me a picture. Look."
She showed him the picture of her youngest, grinning at the camera so enthusiastically it looked painful.
"Looks like he enjoyed himself."
"They've got a slide there."
"That's cheating."
The rest of the meal was filled with more talk of Fred's antics and latest words. Even though he was nothing to do with him, Hardy enjoyed listening to Miller's updates. Not just because she was never happier or prouder than when she was with her boys, but because he'd now known Fred for half of his life. Admittedly he'd hardly been on his radar when he first moved to Broadchurch, but that had all changed when it felt like every other day he was babbling on his sofa, colouring book in hand.
When the bill arrived, Miller went to grab her bag before he stopped her. After he'd insisted that he was serious about paying, she stared at him as though he'd announced he was buying her a house. It was as he paid, Hardy noticed she was avoiding his eye and fiddling with her bag still. The temptation to make some comment about how much this resembled a date was over-whelming, but he couldn't think of a way to do it and still sound casual. Even in his head he sounded as though he was hinting.
Although, the way Miller acted once the waitress had left them, was enough to make him wonder if she was having a similar debate with herself. She checked her phone rather than look at him directly and, when he suggested they leave, she stood so quickly she almost upended the table.
The walk back to their cars wasn't much better. The winding route along the river they had decided to take had all the makings of a romantic stroll and Hardy spent the first ten minutes straining to think of a way to mention what had happened between them two weeks previously. The same sensation of time falling away and his window of opportunity closing in on him was back. This time it was with the added pressure of possibly just having been on a date - something else they should probably talk about.
To a stranger, Miller appeared to be her usual bubbly self, pointing out interesting landmarks and reading the tourist information signs. Hardy knew all of it was to prevent her feeling uncomfortable and it only made him want to stop her. How was he supposed to work out what she was thinking if she wasn't giving him chance to think himself?
Thankfully, the river Avon could only provide so much filler conversation and soon Miller was forced to walk in silence. It reminded Hardy of working the Sandbrook case together, and how sometimes they'd walk along the coast without talking, just enjoying the other's company while lost in their own heads.
"It's a bit odd. Doing this without a beach," Hardy said, his voice sounding too loud after not speaking for so long. They were nearly back at the multi-story car park and he hoped he'd be able to improvise well enough to at least imply he'd want to do something similar to this again.
"Yeah," chuckled Miller. "It's sort of nice not working at the same time."
"Only sort of?" Hardy chanced a look at her out of the corner of his eye. She blinked a couple of times before looking out across the river.
"Fine. This is nice."
"Really?"
This time he met her eyes as he waited for her response. She seemed to debate her answer for a moment before giving him a kind smile.
"Really."
It was hard to look away from her after she'd spoken. While he didn't exactly have a great history of understanding subtle hints from women, there was something warm about her gaze that made him feel like he could do anything. With this woman at his side he had faced his greatest demons and sent them all packing. He doubted she realised just how inspiring she was and it only made him want to show her how special she was to the best of his questionable ability.
The calm that settled over them lasted until they reached their destination. Unlike before, Hardy didn't feel the crushing need to ask about her motivations or desires. Reflecting on the day had installed a new sense of patience about him. He was strangely confident in his mind that Miller felt something towards him, though he couldn't guess what it was exactly. He didn't have to rush everything anymore. There was time for things to grow and he just had to nurture whatever was happening to make sure it did.
After paying their parking fees, they made their way to Miller's car and paused on the driver's side. She turned to face him and he shoved his hands in his pockets, trying to look as though he was completely at ease.
"Right, well, thanks for today," she said brightly.
"What're you thanking me for?" he scoffed. "I'm the one that needed help."
"Still. It's good to get out of the house sometimes."
"We could - if you get chance - could do this again?" As soon as he'd started speaking, Hardy wished he hadn't. It was as though he was outside of his body, watching an idiot pilot himself into a social disaster.
"Daisy got another birthday coming up?"
"Not for a while," he answered, trying to stop himself from being irritated with her glib remark.
She shuffled on the spot, as though she couldn't decide between stepping away from her car or towards it. "Yeah. I guess."
"Great."
Hardy nodded more than necessary even though he was screaming at himself to appear less eager. Miller was giving him a tight smile and he wished she'd give him something more to go on. Even though they were surrounded by the smell of concrete and car fumes, it was as though they were on the precipice of something new once again. It didn't seem to matter where they were. Since he'd moved away, every time they parted, whether in person or on the phone, it made him feel like a teenager, desperately trying to make a full conversation with one of the popular girls when she asked him to borrow a pen.
"So I'll see you… later," Miller said, edging backwards and Hardy nodded. "Let me know if Daisy likes her present."
"Yeah, well, it's not until next month so…"
"Of course, yeah."
"I'll see you, then."
"Yeah, bye."
Hardy watched her get into her car with one last smile at him and raised his hand in goodbye. "Drive safely."
Drive safely? Jesus, he was an embarrassment.
He stepped back to allow her to reverse out of her spot and masochistically watched her drive away. The same hollow feeling from when he left Broadchurch settled in his stomach.
Next time, he told himself. Next time he'd say something.
He slowly headed for the stairs to the next level and his own car. The door to the stairwell was in sight when he heard a car coming up behind him. He moved sideways to the edge of the balcony, searching his pockets for his ticket as he did. Once he found it, he looked up just in time to see the car screech to a halt in the parking space a couple ahead of him. He frowned, ready to give the driver hell for nearly running over a policeman, when he recognised the car.
"Miller?" he breathed as she stepped out of her car, slamming the door behind her.
She glared at him and he wondered what he could possibly have done in the last thirty seconds to have incurred her wrath.
Her shoulders slumped and she sighed. "What are we doing, Hardy?"
A hundred questions flew through his mind, along with a hundred answers, but the situation called for the truth.
"I… I don't know."
"Right."
Whatever had made her turn her car around seemed to leave her as she worked her jaw and stared at her feet. Hardy could feel his heart more keenly than ever before, pounding against his ribcage, every molecule of his being on high alert, waiting for the words to come to him. This was the moment he'd been waiting and trying for and now it was here he felt like he was drowning in his own ineptitude.
The pause dragged on and he could see regret creeping its way onto Miller's features. That alone made him decide to do what he'd always been scared to do, even more so after his marriage collapsed, and throw his heart and everything he was in the line of fire.
"Miller, I - I am shite at this. Utter shite. Jesus, I just… I never thought I would ever feel - ever get this again. Let alone have the chance to do anything about it." His chest was heaving, eyes imploring and all he could do was stand there and let her choose to either pull him to safety or let him be taken with the tide.
"You think you've got a chance?"
She said it with a stab at a joke, though she was entirely too twitchy to pull it off. After the emotional rollercoaster of the last couple of weeks, after spending time with her family as if he belonged there, after kissing her like he'd wanting to for so long now, after days of uncertainty and the last few hours filled with the simple thrill of being with her, he didn't have the energy for pretense any longer.
"Have I?" he asked breathlessly. His direct question threw her, but he didn't regret it. After all, she'd nearly knocked him down before asking her own.
"I don't know!" she cried. "Do you have any idea what it's like to put up with you?"
"I do spend a lot of time with me."
Miller looked like she might throw him over the balcony.
"See! That! You're a wanker. And a knob. Fred has better manners half the time. But then…" She broke off and the tense lines of her face melted away. He'd never seen her look at him like that with one glaring exception: after he'd kissed her. It was a look of scar tissue and sleepless nights, longing and loneliness and he suspected he appeared the same to her.
Hardy did his best to look as sincere as he could, appealing to whatever side of her made her look at him like she was now. He had no idea what he'd done to win any fraction of her affection, but he found himself praying he was reminding her of it now.
"Why do you have to be such a tosser?" she exploded and Hardy winced. Apparently she wasn't done fighting with herself. "You could smile once in a while, but no. You'd rather get pissed off with kittens and lampposts and - I mean, who gets that angry at a self service checkout?"
"They're a waste of bloody time! It takes up more staff looking after the-"
"I don't care about the bloody self service machines!"
"You brought them up!"
They were both breathing heavily, the tension almost too much. Hardy couldn't believe he'd snapped and potentially ruined everything. It would be so easy to apologise and get the conversation back on track, but he just couldn't. She was Miller and he was Hardy. Backing down was never an option, regardless of the situation.
Miller's eyelids slipped closed and it felt like an axe falling. With forced calm, she opened them again and spoke steadily. "I am going to get in my car and run you over if you don't kiss me."
He heard the words, saw her lips form them, but the meaning was lost somewhere in the ether. All the pent up frustration in his limbs made them stiff and it was possibly an entire week before his mind and body finally caught up.
Without a thought to anyone who might be around them or his personal safety, Hardy flung himself at Miller. His momentum carried them until she was backed against her car, his hands on her hips, hers in his hair, when - finally - his mouth met hers in a bruising kiss.
It had none of the gentleness of their last kiss. It was all teeth and tongues and hands searching for new territory. It had been years since Hardy had had this kind of contact and he relished it, wondering how he had gone so long without the warmth of another body against his. Miller appeared to be of the same mind, raking her fingers over his scalp in a way he suspected would keep him up at night for days to come.
He'd been falling fast for her for a long time, but now she was pulling him down he doubted he could ever resurface.
It went against everything he wanted, but eventually he pulled away. His arms disagreed with his decision and pulled her closer to him.
He waited for her to open her eyes, hoping to see something other than regret there, and wasn't disappointed. Though she looked stunned by their actions, there was an undeniable joy there that made him question why he'd taken so long to act.
"I make no promises," he told her seriously, "but I will try to smile at kittens."
She blinked as though she'd forgotten her mouth could also be used for communication. Hardy felt a rare rush of pride.
"You really are shit at this."
"But I am honest."
Miller giggled and dropped her arms to rest on his shoulders. It felt natural and Hardy's mouth curled into a smile. He suspected he could ride this giddy high for the rest of the week.
"Miller, would you - um - do you want to get something to eat maybe? With me?" he clarrified when she pulled her brows together in confusion.
"We ate less than an hour ago."
"Could get a snack?" he suggested, hoping he wasn't coming across as desperate. She was still happy to be in his arms and he took that as a positive sign. "There's a Greggs over the road."
Miller pulled a face. "Are you asking me on a date to Greggs?"
"Maybe," he answered, cringing. "Are you saying yes?"
Despite the utterly shite offer he'd made her, Miller bit her lip as though considering it. "I wanted to be back for when Tom gets in from school," she said kindly.
"Oh."
"Another time?"
Hardy knew his eyebrows had shot up his forehead and just hoped she hadn't noticed. "Okay."
"But dinner."
"Right."
"Not Greggs."
"So we're doing this then?" he asked loudly. There was only so much ribbing he could take, even over something that made him feel as though he was floating two feet above the ground.
Miller pursed her lips and made a point of looking him over. She couldn't keep the cheeky grin off her face as she exhaled and pulled him closer. They were still making eye contact when she spoke next, her voice filled with resignation, though her eyes were dancing with anticipation.
"God help me," she murmured as she brought her mouth to his again.
As he kissed her back (something that was surprisingly difficult with her smiling so much), Hardy dreaded the moment they would part and he'd have to watch her drive away again. She'd promise to text him and he'd probably phone her back straight away, already starved of her voice after only a couple of hours apart.
His world had been ripped apart and flipped upside down with an alarming frequency in recent years, but it was only now that he didn't know which way was up. He didn't know if he was flying or falling but couldn't care less. The road ahead wouldn't be smooth, but he wasn't nearly naive enough anymore to think it would be and neither was Miller. All he knew was that this was his life and he was finally living it again.
You say you never want to be saved
Well, that's okay because I wouldn't know how
Just know that the best that I'll ever be
Is whatever you make me wherever you are
-Frank Iero
Thanks for reading!