Chapter Seven: Faux Pas
Keira hated herself for doing it, but after work she spent an inordinate amount of time getting dressed. Normally, she showered and threw on whichever bar-friendly outfit she had brought along; yet now she grimaced at the clothes, wishing she had picked out something nicer, and silently bemoaned the fact that she had only brought eye shadow, mascara, and lip gloss.
Like Will cares, she told herself, irritated that she cared.
"If I didn't know you better, I'd say you were looking for some action tonight."
Jules's teasing (yet curious) voice rang out as she joined Keira in the bathroom. Keira glanced over, realizing that Jules had already dressed and was waiting for her.
"Sorry," Keira muttered, giving herself one last critical examination in the mirror. "And no, I'm not planning on getting laid."
"So, why all the fuss?" Jules asked, raising an eyebrow when Keira tugged at her shirt and sucked her stomach in.
"There isn't any fuss," Keira replied automatically. "Come on, let's go."
Yet after Jules shrugged in surrender and turned around to leave, Keira couldn't help but look at herself again. Leggings, heeled boots, and a dressy shirt—she swallowed, insecure as always about the length of her sleeves.
In the end, however, there was nothing for it but to follow Jules out of the locker room.
Aside from the fact that the inside of his locker now smelled like whipped cream, Will thought that he had made it through his first day as well as could be expected. His new teammates had been impressed by his scores on the shooting range—Keira's voice noticeably absent amidst the others' praise—and he had kept up on all the drills. He knew the time to prove himself would be the real deal, but for now he was doing all right.
As far as getting a straight answer out of Keira went, however, he was failing pretty miserably.
"Wonder what's taking them so long," Spike mused beside him, referring to Keira and Jules. The two women were still getting ready in the locker room, while the guys had been waiting in the lobby for the past five minutes—with the exception of Ed, whose son had a concert.
"What do you expect?" Wordy inquired, chuckling. "It's a night out; the ladies want to look their best."
Lou snorted. "Well, it's not like either of them ever end up going home with a guy, so…"
Will really, really didn't want to think about Keira going home with a guy.
"Hey, maybe they do and we just don't know it," Spike suggested, a small grin on his face.
"It's none of our business if they do," Parker interjected mildly.
"Is Keira—are Keira and Jules dating anyone?" Will asked before he could stop himself.
He inwardly winced when Parker shot him a thoroughly piercing look. That… had not been one of his subtler moments.
Luckily, the others didn't seem to have noticed. "No," Sam replied, shaking his head vigorously. "Definitely not."
"Can you imagine Keira dating someone?" Lou demanded, laughing. "It'd be like dating the CSIS—she wouldn't tell the poor guy anything."
"Bet she wouldn't even let him meet her parents," Sam guessed. "Remember that one time I asked her about her family, and she practically bit my head off?"
"Yeah, I don't get it," Spike muttered. "Will? Care to enlighten us?" he queried, glancing over.
"Enlighten you about what?" Will replied, distinctly remembering Keira's warning from the night before: The guys here don't know anything about my life before I came to the SRU, and I intend to keep it that way.
"Why she doesn't talk about her family or, apparently, even speak to them?" Spike elaborated, raising an eyebrow. "You grew up with her, you must know something."
Will was starting to think that he didn't know anything about Keira; not anymore, at least. "Look, guys," he said, with a helpless shrug of his shoulders, "I have no idea what's going on with her. Even if I did…"
"She already got to you," Spike finished grimly.
"She works fast," Lou observed with a wry smile.
"I don't know, Lou, I think something else is going on here," Spike theorized, fixing Will with a sharp look. He slowly advanced, a devilish glint in his eye. "The two of you used to date, didn't you."
It wasn't a question.
"I knew it!" Spike exclaimed when Will, his cheeks flaming, didn't respond. "Most people, when they run into someone they haven't seen since high school, do that awkward thing where they try to pretend they're really excited to see each other, but you two—"
"I've spoken to both Will and Keira about it, and they've assured me that they will handle themselves professionally," Parker told Spike, who looked extraordinarily satisfied with himself for having dragged the cat out of the bag. "Right, Will?"
"Yes, sir," Will hastily assured him—not that he would have said anything else under the collective gaze of almost the entire team.
Though Spike looked like he wanted to press the issue, Will was saved by the sound of footsteps hurrying from the direction of the locker rooms. "Sorry we took so long," Jules apologized, slinging her bag over her shoulder. "You're all ready?"
Will barely heard her. All his attention was on Keira, who was nothing short of gorgeous. She was wearing an emerald green shirt that glittered as she moved, drawing attention to both her slender frame and to her hazel eyes. Her leggings were so tight (he gave her the benefit of the doubt that they were in fact leggings, and not body paint) that they practically forced him to imagine what was underneath… Hurriedly, he wrenched his gaze upward. Her hair, still dark and damp from showering, was already starting to form soft waves around her face. And as she came closer, he could smell whatever it was she had used for shampoo; something citrusy, a scent he had always associated with her.
He quickly glanced away, in case someone noticed that he was staring—because that was definitely what he was doing. He was both surprised and completely unsurprised that she still had this effect on him.
"I think we're good to go," Spike said cheerfully, breaking Will's reverie. "Just F-Y-I, if anyone here needs a wingman tonight…" He held up his hands, silently offering.
"What, no girl for you? How noble," Jules said teasingly.
"Don't worry about me, Jules," Spike replied with a wink. "I'll be all right."
Will noticed when Spike discreetly sent off a text a few minutes later, and figured that he'd already made plans for later; but, had he been a little more observant, he would have seen Keira check her cell phone and send off a text of her own.
"So, how did you enjoy your first day? Working out so far?"
"Definitely," Will assured Wordy, who was watching him contemplatively from across the table. He hadn't gotten much of a chance to talk to the older man, but, from what he could tell, Wordy was a good guy in every sense of the word. "I'll be sore tomorrow, that's for sure."
"You'll get used to it," Lou promised, smirking.
"Speak for yourself," Wordy grumbled, though he clearly wasn't serious. Taking another sip from his beer, he asked Will, "What about Keira? Is that awkward for you?"
Will tried to conceal a wince. "I'll get used to that, too," he replied, glancing over towards the bar where Keira and Jules were standing. The music and general conversation were loud enough so that he couldn't hear a word they were saying, but he had a feeling—judging by the way Jules kept glancing back at him, and by Keira's pained expression—that he was being talked about.
"How serious were the two of you?" Sam asked, his grey eyes fixed on Will.
Will was half-hoping that Parker would intervene and change the subject, but the sergeant merely finished his Diet Coke and appeared to contemplate ordering another.
"Uh… Well, we'd been friends since preschool, so we were pretty close," Will hedged.
"Wait, wait, preschool?" Spike demanded. "Keira just said you guys went to the same high school together."
"Well, we did," Will pointed out. "But also preschool, elementary school, middle school, and college," he couldn't resist adding, still stung by the way Keira had passed their friendship off as a high school acquaintance.
"When did you start dating, then?" Wordy asked, frowning.
"Right before we went off to college."
"And?" Spike prompted when Will didn't elaborate.
"And she dumped me," Will answered. "What about you guys? I take it none of you are married?"
Wordy raised a hand. "Wife and three girls," he said happily.
"Oh, wow, that's great," Will replied. Now he knew—although he hadn't said anything at the time—why Wordy had been watching Hannah Montana on his iPod earlier that day in the gym. "Must be a handful, though."
"Tell me about it," Wordy said; but the grin on his face said he didn't mind in the slightest.
The conversation was interrupted by the return of Keira and Jules, the latter of which had brought back a rye and ginger. Will frowned when he saw that Keira was empty-handed.
"No margarita?" he asked her, referring to the fruity drinks Keira had fallen in love with at college—and had never had any trouble obtaining.
She gave him a look: annoyed on the surface, but with something else flickering in her gaze. "I don't drink," she told him.
Will started to laugh, but the expression on her face stopped him. "You're kidding me," he said, remembering all the Friday nights he had practically carried her back to her dorm room.
"No, I'm not," she retorted curtly, her entire body tensing.
"True story," Spike jumped in mischievously: "I've never seen Keira drink anything."
"Spike," Parker cut in warningly, "we're not here to judge."
"Thank you," Keira said vehemently. "And, on that note, I'm heading to the bathroom."
She all but bolted from the table, leaving several confused coworkers in her wake.
"What was that about?" Spike asked curiously.
The others shook their heads, each at a loss; Jules finally changed the subject. Will listened in on the new conversation with half an ear, his thoughts still on Keira. Why had she gotten so defensive when he asked her about drinking? She used to love going out with him and their friends; she had certainly made liberal use of her fake ID. Where had this sudden one-eighty come from?
He saw her emerge from the bathroom a few minutes later, but she seemed to hesitate before heading back in the direction of their table. She had gone less than five steps when she was accosted by a tall, burly, and very drunk patron.
Will's eyes narrowed as the guy touched her arm and leaned in close to whisper something in her ear. Keira glared at him in response, yanking her arm away—but the man persisted, catching her by the waist and trying to pull her back.
Instinctively assuming the role he had played on countless occasions, Will abandoned his seat and began forcing his way through the crowd. He kept an eye on Keira, whom he could now hear telling the guy in no uncertain terms to leave her alone.
"Baby, I won't take 'no' for an answer," the drunk slurred, practically slobbering over her.
Quick as a flash, Will slipped in between them and draped an arm over Keira's shoulders. "Hey," he said as she stiffened, then realized who he was and slowly put her own arm around his waist. "Is this guy giving you trouble, baby?" he asked, squeezing her shoulder for emphasis. He didn't think twice about it: it was an act they had performed countless times at high school parties, sometimes switching roles if it were Will being pestered.
Like the others, the drunk took the hint. "My bad," he muttered, backing away.
Keira waited until the man had disappeared into the crowd, then bolted out from under Will and turned around to face him. "What the hell were you thinking?" she demanded furiously.
Will looked at her in confusion. "I was just helping you—"
"Helping me?" Keira echoed, shaking her head in disbelief. "This isn't fucking high school anymore, Will. I can handle myself, in case you missed the memo that I'm a police officer. Also, way to pull that stunt in front of the entire team."
Will glanced over her shoulder and saw that, in fact, everyone at their table was staring at them. A dull flush spread to his cheeks as he looked back at Keira, who was practically trembling in anger. Behind that anger, however, he could see something worse: embarrassment and injured pride. That, more than the expressions of their teammates, made him realize how much he had screwed up. Not only had he just exponentially increased the amount of flak the others were going to give them, but he had patronized Keira and offended her as a result. He felt like a total idiot.
"I'm sorry," Will apologized quietly—well, as quietly as he could in the middle of the bar. "I didn't mean anything by it—I just… I just wanted to make sure you were okay."
"Do me a favor, then," Keira practically shouted at him, "and stop trying to protect me. I already have an older brother—I don't need you to play the hero. Thanks to what you just did, now Parker's going to be even more on our asses than he already is."
"Keira—"
"Save it," she snapped. "You've done enough damage for one night."
Before he could say anything, she melted into the crowd and vanished.
