After Work Drinks

Disclaimer: No one's making any money off this, purely for entertainment, mostly mine, hopefully yours too.

AN: So I've been going through my fic folder and it turns out I have A LOT in there and this one was actually finished so… here. It's not amazing but let's face it, there's not much Line of Duty fic out there so you're probably as desperate for content as Lindsay Denton was to prove her innocence. Enjoy!

"So, Lindsay, tell me about yourself." Dryden had said. He had just been transferred as unit chief and made a point of inviting everyone out for a drink. It's her first round of after work drinks in years and she feels very much out of place. She'd tried to refuse but he had been insistent-it was good for team morale apparently, "A team that drinks together, stays together," he'd said. "My shout." He'd given her a wink, somewhere between flirty and creepy uncle but it had worked and so now she sat across from him while the rest of their team played pool.

"Not much to tell, really, sir," she'd replied, wishing she could give a much more interesting response. "I play piano, read, go hiking sometimes."
"Mike, please, it's after hours," she felt herself relax slightly. "My niece plays the piano – got into Vivianna this year. We're all very proud of her."
"Oh, Vivianna, that's a wonderful program. I wanted to go there."
"Why didn't you?"
"Vivianna may be an amazing program, but it's expensive." She fingered the stem of her wine glass self-consciously. "Don't get me wrong, I love being a police officer. I think the work we do is so, so important…" She took a large gulp of wine, hoping he would fill the silence before she gushed over how much she loved her job. It was true – but she didn't want to sound like she was brown nosing.

Dryden smiled and took a swig of beer, keeping his eyes fixed on her. "A boyfriend?" Her face must of tensed at the question because he changed tack. "Sorry, very un-PC of me. Boyfriend? Girlfriend? Partner? Anybody?" His change of question made her answer all the more awkward.
A sip of wine. "Nobody. My last boyfriend," she found herself unconsciously emphasising the word. Homophobia may be a thing of the past but coppers clung tight to tradition. "He, uh, said he didn't want kids. I'm at the age where-" she cut herself off when she remembered she was talking to her new boss and not her therapist. "Sorry," she said in a surprisingly light tone, half laughing at herself. "I'm sure you don't need to hear this." She attempted to drink from her glass but found it empty.

"Orright boss?"
"Alrigh' Jones," Mike replied to one of her team who appeared after they finished their game.
"Fanks for tonigh', boss. We was going to head into town, you're welcome to join." Lindsay felt like an awkward intruder in their easy conversation. Dryden eyed her as she bit her lip nervously, waiting for the conversation to end so she could slip home.
"Appreciate it Jones, but I don't think I can keep up with you young fellas anymore. Enjoy yourselves."
"Oh, we will, sir," Jones said and Lindsay heard the sound of unfamiliar giggles from behind her. "Night, sir," he said, the group grabbed their belongings and hurried out the door.

"Well, I should be-"
"One last drink, Lindsay." She hesitated, looking down at her watch.
"I really… my bus-"
"Bus?" Dryden almost spat out his drink, his tone sounded as though she had just told him she was a cross-dressing prostitute, who smoked crack while pregnant and shagged bears. "Do you know how dangerous it is for a pretty woman to be taking the bus at this time of night?"
"Much safer than if I leave in 15 minutes," she replied, trying her best to ignore the 'pretty' comment.
"Pfft. Stay, have another glass. I can drop you home myself."
"Sir-"
"Mike," he corrected. "Two of the same, please." He'd said to the waitress as she began to clear their table.
"Thanks, sir, but you really didn't have to-"
"Mike," he emphasised again with that damn, contagious smile. "Just don't tell the others, I'd hate for them to think I'm playing favourites."
"Oh, I'm very good at keeping secrets," Lindsay said before his intense eye contact had made her look anywhere else. "So, what about yourself: wife, husband, kids, mistress?" she'd asked with a laugh at the end to try and disguise how desperate she was to know.
"Wife, married 20 years." She felt a slight, unwarranted pang of jealousy. "No kids, unfortunately."
"Sorry."
They continued a not uncomfortable chat until Dryden drank the last of his beer. He grabbed his coat, as Lindsay attempted to grab hers, it slipped off the back of the chair and she muttered curses to herself as she bent over to pick it up. She didn't notice Dryden's eyes on her arse – couldn't tell he was wishing she'd worn more fitting clothes.

"Ready?" He'd asked with a smile as she slung her sensible black handbag over her shoulder.
"Yeah, thanks," she said and closed her eyes momentarily as her equilibrium began to give out.
He frowned at her, trying to work out if she was okay. "You alrigh', Lindsay?"
"Yeah, just, I think the wine was a bit stronger than I realised. You sure you're okay to drive?"
"Only been drinking lights. Don't tell the boys." He says, as though sharing a state secret and winks at her and she once again finds herself blushing.

As she steps out into the quiet street, she feels the alcohol warm her cheeks, and recoils into her jacket. It's a quick walk to his car. He starts the engine, waiting a few moments for the windows to defrost before pulling out. It's silent between them, though not uncomfortable. She's glad. She can feel her thoughts travelling at a snail's pace – as opposed to the usual hyperactive shit storm that is her mind. She lays her head back into the seat, enjoys the unusually slow musings when a hand lands on her thigh. Her eyes snap open immediately, trace the arm back to its owner, as though she was ever in any doubt.

Her mind kicks back into overdrive once more and she thinks through the events of the night. Wine after wine after wine. He'd only been drinking lights. The winks. The offer of a lift home. Shit, shit, shit, she cursed internally. Her word against his shit, shit, shit. She feels her muscles tighten as she tries to think through her next move.
"Lindsay?" The voice sounds concerned and she takes a brief intermission from her mini freak out to listen to him. "Lindsay, are you okay?"
"Huh?" Her voice is croaky.
"Just napping then? All good, was afraid you may have passed out on me." She feels her heart beat slow as his hand retracts. "We're almost at your place."
"Thanks," she mumbles, awkward and embarrassed. He'd never want her. Even if he wasn't happily married, she knows women who'd throw themselves at him.

"Thanks," she murmurs again once they reach her place. He reaches his arm out to her as she exits his car and she feels adrenaline prickle through her once more.
"You are okay, aren't you?" He asks with the most honest eyes she's seen from a man in a long time.
"Yeah, fine, thanks, sir. Probably could have done without the last vino," she says with the best smile she can muster.
"Mike. Okay, well, take care. See you Monday morning."
"Bright and early, Mike" she says, with a genuine smile this time. He doesn't leave until she's inside the door and all she can think is what a gentleman.

AN: So let me know what you thought. I'm not even entirely sure of the vibe here. I mean, I kind of feel like their affair would have began slowly, with just enough 'is he, isn't he?' that Lindsay was both very surprised and not surprised at all when they began something more serious. I also don't completely trust Dryden, but that's a story for another time ;)

Anyway, reviews appreciated!