Rating: M, more sexy stuff
Disclaimer: Jed Mercurio, ITV and BBC etc own 'em.
Spoilers: Eps 1-3 mainly
Pairing: David/Julia
Summary: A series of missing scenes that gradually diverge from canon to create a very different ending to episode 3.
She's always been a light sleeper. Even after an evening of all-consuming sex. She will doze, she will enjoy a brief respite from the constant stress and drive of her job. But she will stir easily, re-surface suddenly. He can't know this about her, not yet. He doesn't know that she feels the mattress dip the moment he leaves it. She's not accustomed to the new bed, or to sharing it with another body. She breathes as he pads into the other room, burrows into her pillow as she waits for him to return from whatever mission has momentarily robbed her of his warmth.
When she hears the snap of the locks on her ministerial box though, her eyes crack open. She'd know that sound anywhere. It's followed by some indistinct rustling, some anxious breathing. Julia opens her eyes fully, remains in her post-coital curl. She swallows shallowly as she listens for further audible clues, her heart beginning to beat and her stomach starting to sink. There's a pause, a swish of something small and secret being slipped from its hiding place. Then a door is quietly eased closed.
She sits up in the bed, the sheet slipping down to her waist. Her breasts hang heavily, weighed down by residual desire and creeping disappointment. She can still smell him in the sheets, feel his sticky extract on her thighs. Her lips are swollen from his kiss and her arse is red from his grasping scratches. She swings her feet to the floor, her muscles complaining as she rises. Her body isn't used to this kind of activity. He'd fucked her good. Hard and soft and slow and long. Over and over and deeper and deeper. Hoping presumably to take her out until morning.
She'd initiated the encounter. After an evening of enforced abstinence and more than one exchange of tense, tacit words. It was an easy fix, if a far from subtle one. She'd simply opened her pants, slipped a hand inside and let him see exactly what he did to her. Eyes darkly intent, David had stalked towards her, neither slow nor fast. On reaching her, he'd coiled a hand round her neck, pressed his mouth to hers and kissed her hard. His hand had slid up into her hair as his gaze travelled down to the hand buried in her cunt.
"How do you want me?" she'd asked in a breathy pant.
His eyes travelled up again, raking over her, her lowered arm, her rising breasts, her wet, parted lips. "In every way possible," he'd answered, lips panting against hers.
Julia stretched her neck as he lowered his mouth to nip at her jaw. "Care to be a little more specific?"
One arm wrapped around her waist, tugging her away from the door frame and against his body. The other slipped down, grazing her hip before sliding between her thighs. He caressed the hand in her pants through two layers of fabric, encouraged it by pressing it closer. Then, taking hold of her wrist, he withdrew her hand and lifted it to his mouth. David kissed her palm, licked her fingers, interlaced them with his and drew her inside the bedroom.
He dropped her hand at the bed, took several paces back and told her to strip. He unzipped his pants, stroked his erection to hardness as she divested herself of heels then top then slacks and finally underwear. She stood before him in goosebumped skin and a thin gold chain encircling her neck.
David tipped his head at the bed. "Hands and knees please."
Julia breathed and obeyed. Then felt him move behind her, still fully clothed, fortified even by his bulletproof vest. One hand stroked her right arse cheek. A fleeting caress before he ran a flat, warm palm up her back, over her shoulder then down again. It dipped over her arse, slid down a thigh then rose between them to test the warm waters of her cunt. She felt his mouth lower to her arse as his hands stole under her body to squeeze her breasts. David paused, lips on the small of her back. He pulled one of her hands from the mattress and guided it back between her thighs. She resumed the circling of her clit, the stroking of her own folds while his mouth made love to her arse and his fingers tweaked her breasts.
"Now," she begged after too many minutes of perfect torture. "Please, David. Now."
A soft chuckle – he knew she was no good at ceding control. Then the metal of his belt buckle hit the floor. "Yes, Ma'am…"
She felt his hands grasp her hips, the hairs of his thighs tickle the raised skin of hers. Then the head of his cock was at her entrance. He removed a hand, took a moment to swirl the head round and round and up and down. To press a little way in then ease out again, gradually softening her tight, overused muscles. Then his hand was back at her hip and he was pushing inside. He moved slowly, adjusted her on him once he was embedded. He hummed as he swept both hands up her back then down again to her hips. He pulled out, paused then plunged back in, leaving several heartbeats between each deep, deliberate thrust. He fucked her like he'd been thinking about nothing else all day. He fucked her like he was on some kind of mission. He fucked her like he was trying to prove a point. Though she's not sure now what that point was meant to be.
Julia reaches for one of the hotel's terrycloth robes. The slate of the bathroom is chilly underfoot so she tiptoes to the toilet, sitting for a long moment with her legs crossed and her lips pressed tightly together. Rising slowly, she moves to the mirror and stares at her reflection. She wets a facecloth, presses it over her face, into her eye sockets. She swipes it over her forehead and behind her ears and down her neck. She runs the thing under the tap again then opens her robe. She washes her breasts and her stomach and between her thighs. Then she refastens the white tie and heads for the other room.
She switches on a lamp, every movement she makes slow and quiet. As expected, the door to David's room is closed and the black and red briefcases that accompany her everywhere have been disturbed. She stands by her bedroom door, looks back and forth between the cases and the door, then watches as the door opposite silently opens. He emerges, head bent, boxers on his body and prophylactic gloves on his hands. The blue rubber delivers another small shockwave, implying as it does an act of detached premeditation. His head lifts and their eyes meet across the room, a predictably guilty expression filling his features.
"I can explain," he says into the ensuing silence.
Her head tips to one side. "I can guess."
His head hangs, his feet shuffle into a tighter formation. Julia lets the silence sit a moment then waves a hand at the couch.
"I think we'd better talk, don't you?"
David frowns then follows her lead. He moves to the couch, takes a seat on the cushions. He looks exposed and awkward in his boxer briefs. She tugs her robe a little tighter at the neck. She watches him glance down at the device in his hands then hand it wordlessly across. Julia looks at the thing, back in its plastic sheath, no doubt wiped clean of any incriminating swipe marks. The slip of paper with the password has been carefully re-folded and placed alongside it as if neither were ever tampered with. With an entirely fitting sheepishness, David peels off his gloves and sets them aside. Julia watches the gesture then lifts her head to look him in the eye.
"Anne Sampson?" she guesses, "Or the Craddock woman?"
His Adam's apple bobs, his voice emerging hoarse. "Both, actually."
"And you agreed," she muses, her eyes thinning with cynicism. "Or are you going to tell me that you were coerced?"
He gives a pained half-nod. "They used my—"
"Your family," she finishes with a sigh. "How utterly original…"
She rises from the couch, moves to her breached cases and slips the device from the Security Service back where it belongs. While she's there, she checks if any other files have been disturbed, what other information he could have accessed. Behind her back, David tentatively launches an appeal.
"They approached me," he offers, tone resigned, even relieved. "They said I was in a unique position. They arranged access with the…" he pauses, indicates the room next door, "the adjoining suite."
Julia moves to stand opposite him, arms folded. "And sleeping with me was you maximising that position, I suppose. Were you acting under orders or simply showing initiative?"
He wags his head emphatically. "That wasn't part of any plan. Theirs or mine."
She looks at her feet, hums and mutters, "Can't have hurt though…"
He moves to get up, approach her. "They know noth—"
"How long?" she demands coolly.
David re-settles on the couch, acceding to her right to interrogate. "When you had me reinstated…"
She nods in understanding. "I betrayed a partiality. They decided to take advantage."
His head dips dutifully. "Yes, Ma'am."
She casts him a glance as she begins to pace. "Please don't call me Ma'am right now, David."
"Yes. No—" He grimaces and rises to his feet, hands fisted at his sides. "I'm sorry. I…" He shakes his head then takes a step closer, insisting, "I haven't told them anything."
She casts him another fleeting glance. "Yet," she notes, grimly.
David watches her a moment, his eyes beginning to narrow and hackles beginning to rise. He shifts in place, draws a sharp breath. "If you don't mind me saying, you don't seem very surprised."
She scoffs and faces him. "Did you really expect me to be?" She shakes her head, runs an eye over him from afar. "I admit, it wasn't a twist I saw coming. But frankly, I'd be more shocked if something like this didn't happen."
His chest puffs under her gaze. "If I was loyal, you mean."
She meets his eyes – straight, unrepentant, unflinching.
"If I kept your secrets," he goes on, his defiance gaining momentum. "If I told Craddock and Sampson or whoever else came at me…only what would benefit you. If I disobeyed orders in order to protect you…that would surprise you."
She's silent a moment, her chest rising and falling beneath her robe. "Yeah," she replies evenly. "That would surprise me."
He steps closer, jaw set and eyes fixed. "And if I told you that I slept with you for no reason other than that I wanted to, that I wanted you and I—" he falters, voice breaking then fading.
"Yes, David," she replies again, her own voice sounding similarly faint. "That would surprise me."
David steps up to her. He looks like he might reach out and touch her but he doesn't. He just stands in front of her with his chest almost grazing her crossed arms. They expand outwards with every breath she takes. In bare feet, she has to tilt up her chin to look him in the eye.
"There's no other reason, Julia." His eyes hold hers, betraying none of their previous guilt. "I'm on your side. And I'll prove it."
She considers him a moment, her response half curiosity, half challenge. "…How?"
David waves a hand at the couch and invites her to sit. He tells her that he has a meeting with Sampson and Craddock in the morning. He says he will record this meeting so that she can hear exactly what he tells them, exactly what they say in response. She will hear their orders, their accusations, their suspicions. She will hear him deflect them – just as he's done all along.
"So you'll tell them…?" she asks after another moment's consideration.
"Exactly what you want me to," he replies.
She rises from the couch, moves at a pensive pace to her briefcases. She secures them both, lifts one in each hand. "Don't record the meeting," she says as she heads back to her bedroom, "There'll be hell to pay if you're discovered. Just…report to me afterwards."
David rises on the spot, stands to attention.
Julia turns at the door, looks him over then tells him, "I'll find some other way for you to prove your loyalty."
His head bows before she shuts the door.
The next morning, on their way to her first engagement, he reminds her of the meeting with Craddock and Sampson. The insulated sedan hums quietly around and beneath them. Her replacement driver stares straight out the windscreen. David offers a professional apology and assures her he'll be back at her side as soon as his superiors dismiss him. Julia replies with something strict and succinct. She's pretty sure the extra man in attendance can't hear the pointed tension beneath the exchange. Nothing of the silent agreement they struck the night before amidst betrayal and guilt and recrimination. David disappears sometime during her morning briefing, another man slipping into his place. But the meeting with Craddock and Sampson must be brief because he's back in no time at all.
Well? she texts from her office.
Positioned five swift paces from her door, he can't text back immediately. When he finds a window, he responds, No problem.
By the end of another long day, she finds her wrath has cooled somewhat. She understands that people in high stakes professions can get caught up in power struggles, put in positions not of their own making. She understands that in such situations, morals can become relative, motives muddied and boundaries blurred. She understands that better than most. Of course, it's entirely possible that her mind is working overtime to excuse her PPO's inexcusable actions simply because her body misses him already. She's too accustomed to his night-time presence to give it up, too hooked on his touch and his smell and his kiss and his voice.
She attempts some flirtation once they're alone in the elevator, letting her tone invite intimacy, initiate forgiveness. When she suggests to David that he's become emotionally distracted, she gets a small smile in response. She'd like to continue their banter, find some way to make him elaborate on what he didn't quite say the previous night. After all, a lover who actually loves her is the sort of ally she's never had. A lover who actually loves her is the sort of ally she might just be able to trust. The elevator opens though, truncating the conversation. David's almost-smile remains as he ushers her off.
Stashed safely in her rooms, Julia lowers her briefcases to the floor and sheds her coat with a sigh. An immediate knock sounds from the other side of the connecting door. There's something tentative about the sound, something semi-shameful. She moves across the floor and opens the door that has been sealed since the night before. David steps inside, still in his suit, still in professional mode. As instructed, he delivers his report on the meeting with his superiors before handing her a piece of paper.
"I didn't record the meeting but I did take a few notes." He nods at the folded page as he says, "You'll want to destroy that when you're done."
Julia unfolds the paper, wanders a little way away as she scans his notes. He's written particular exchanges down verbatim, added his own impressions, questions or suspicions.
"I told them only what you authorised me to divulge," he adds, standing stiffly on the threshold.
She looks up from the page. Pauses then nods. "Thank you, David."
He nods once, turns to go then turns back. "I'd…still like to see you tonight," he murmurs, voice lower and warmer but still stiff, still unsure. "If you're…not too busy."
Julia faces him fully, her lips curving up in a small smile. She draws a half-breath and waves a vaguely apologetic hand. "Can you give me a couple of hours?"
David meets her gaze, smiles in return. This smile is real and full. His eyes glow with warmth and heat and growing conviction. "I'll give you whatever you want," he answers, voice dark and raspy. "I'll do…whatever you want."
She wanders back towards him, slowly scrunching the paper in her hand into a ball. Slipping her arms around his neck, she tips her head to one side and angles her mouth over his. "You mustn't make promises you can't keep, David."
"Try me," he rasps before kissing her. He seizes her bodily, clasps her clothes, screws them up tight in his hands. He presses his mouth over hers, opens her lips and sucks on them. He breaks the kiss prematurely, emerging from it breathless. He pants against her lips, cups one side of her face and holds her gaze as he repeats, "Just fucking try me, Julia."
TBC...