Flufftober 2022 - Day 18 - Soulmate AU

[Also a modern AU, in this case!]

Theodora Byrne readied herself for that night's family get-together with a decent amount of cheer. They called it a family get together, but the word family wasn't quite literal - it was all her dad's war buddies, their kids, their families, so on. Found family get-together didn't have the same ring to it, though. Usually she never really put too much of an effort in for these things. Anybody showing up in their Sunday best would only get teased all night for it, so she often just settled for a band tee, a pair of jeans in a reasonable state, and a coat of red lipstick to pretend she'd put the effort in. Tonight, however, there was also not one but two birthdays to celebrate - so rather than the venue being somebody's front room-slash-garden, they'd rented out a hall, gotten a DJ, and made the effort, so she had to do the same, too.

In this case, making an effort looked like a silky emerald green wrap dress, sparkly gold heels, carefully curled hair, and a coat of red lipstick. As she applied the lipstick, the soul mark on the inside of her wrist went unnoticed where it barely poked out of her sleeve - save for when she secured a delicate gold bracelet over the top to obscure the three grey words written there. No, thank you. They were pretty shit words to have. Especially as somebody who had done a stint working in retail.

She'd heard right horror stories, too, of wrong'uns who specifically sought out folk with such vague marks, trying to trick them into thinking they were their match for an easy lay. As it was, she'd never fallen afoul of such people, she always kept hers covered, and her heart had stopped skipping a beat whenever she heard those words a good few years ago - easily by the time she'd turned twenty-one, at least.

"We've a new lad joining us tonight," her dad knocked a couple of times at her door before he poked his head into the room "Keep an eye out for him, will you? Fresh out - honourable discharge on a minor medical issue."

"Is he struggling?" She tilted her head.

It wasn't unusual for her dad to bring in some stray or another who was fighting a nasty dose of the horrors. If that was the case here, though, Theo wasn't sure she saw the wisdom in throwing him into the deep end like this.

"Not like that," he shook his head "He's just new, and he's very English - not that we're holding that against him - so he might need to be eased into it a bit. He's a bit serious, but he's a good lad."

"His name?"

"James. He's tall, you'll spot him easy.

"All right," she shrugged slightly "I'll keep an eye out."

The matter slipped from Theo's mind after that, right up until she arrived and she finally set eyes on the new "lad", who was less a lad and more a man. By her definition, at least. She could see how it was a fine descriptor for her dad, but he was definitely a handful of years older than her by her own reckoning. Then again, being a soldier had a way of ageing people prematurely so maybe she was wrong.

He was tall, broad-shouldered and handsome. It wasn't a word Theo often used - thinking it always sounded awkward and over-the-top from her own mouth, but it was the only one that fit the bill here, with classical features like his. His dark hair was brushed back away from his face, a shade longer than she'd expect from someone who held themselves so primly and properly - he didn't quite look like a Beatle, but the length brushes just past his ears, curling slightly at the ends.

Theo wagered there'd be a few broken-hearted women here tonight. Endearingly, though, he was also visibly…uncertain? He was friendly enough when folk spoke to him, smiling and shaking their hands and chatting, but there was a sort of tentativeness to his posture, and he never seemed to initiate those interactions. For that, she could hardly blame him - they probably looked like a right feral lot, and he was in the unfortunate position of only knowing one or two people here. He'd likely take a bit to find his bearings.

Was it weird that it made him oddly more attractive to her, though? It was a road she wasn't going to venture down. She wasn't immune to flings, but there was something depressing about getting to her mid-twenties without having met the fated one yet. Most folk by now either already had, or were just about to. There wasn't much point in getting involved in something to pass the time, only for them to find their soulmate a week, or a month later. In her opinion, at least.

She'd been there for about half an hour when she finally waded through greetings enough to reach the drink table. Taking up a bottle at random, she began to pour herself some into a clear plastic cup when she glanced up and found the newbie a little ways away to her side, considering the drinks himself. He must've felt her gaze, for he looked up and then blinked, hesitating. Offering a smile, Theo held up the bottle in question.

He glanced at it for a moment before shaking his head "No, thank you."

"Fair enough, it's an acquired taste - and it has to be acquired by force."

When her silly little joke garnered no response, she glanced up - mostly to see if he hadn't heard her, or if he was just really determined to not even pretend to be friendly - and found him staring at her wide-eyed.

"I was only kidding," she said unsurely "So long as ye steer clear of Tom, you'll manage to get out of here having safely avoided this stuff."

"I…yes. Thank you - I appreciate the offer. And the warning."

"Any time," she smiled "We've all run afoul of Tom at least once before - tends to make people go one of two ways. Either they take pity on the newcomers and charitably warn them of the danger that waits."

"Or they want others to suffer as they have and help him in his villainous endeavours?" He asked drily.

Theo laughed "Exactly. You're lucky I'm a kind and benevolent soul."

He smiled slightly - and more softly than his general demeanour so far would have suggested. Could it be that the sternness was just a front?

"I suppose I am."

It was then that they were interrupted by one of her uncles, already red faced as he approached to Theo's left, clinking through a selection of bottles as he tried to make sense of the labels so he could decide what he'd have next.

"There she is!" he greeted Theo with a grin "Risky Business herself! Are you going to be performing later, then?"

Great. That was all she needed. One of her top five embarrassing moments paraded about in front of the handsome newbie. But showing embarrassment was a kiss of death amongst this lot, so she grinned and shrugged.

"Only if yous all ask very nicely."

"We'll beg if you need us to, girl - it's tradition!" he found the bottle he'd been looking for, held it up to her and then to the new man in a sort of salute, and returned to the dance floor.

"Am I to take it your name is Risky Business? Common in these parts, is it?" he asked.

"Oh, aye, as common as Rebbeca around here," she teased "No, it's…ugh. You might as well know so they don't tell you first - on my eighteenth I made a judgement call, got absolutely hammered on all the drinks everybody was buying me, and apparently saw fit to do a rendition of the Risky Business dance when they started playing that song - you know the one, Old Time Rock and Roll? I don't remember it, but it turns out that it was so good that it demands a repeat at each and every one of these things."

"And you give in to those demands?"

"Oh, if they smell blood they'd just be even worse about it, so I might as well pretend it's not mortifying and give the people what they want. I'm benevolent like that, like we've already established."

"We have not yet established your name, though."

"Ah. Right. Theodora," she smiled, holding out her hand for him to shake.

"You're Tony's- that is, er, Mr Byrne's daughter?" he nodded slowly, accepting her hand and shaking it firmly.

"If any of this lot hear you calling him that, you'll have your own problems to live down," she teased.

It took another moment of her waiting before he seemed to realise he had not yet told her his name, flushing slightly as he smoothed a hand over his dark hair.

"I'm James - Norrington."

"The Englishman," she nodded sagely "Dad said you'd be coming. He speaks highly of you, you know."

"He speaks more highly of you."

"That's nepotism for you."

He smiled - and his resting face was so serious that the chuckle he gave was all the warmer in contrast.

"He wouldn't have brought you here if he didn't think you'd get on with everybody," she confided, and hoped her wasn't patronising him - nor overstepping "Just don't do any dances you're not willing to repeat ad nauseum for the better part of a decade. We're all a lot to get used to, but once you do you'll be just fine."

"Yes, I'm sure I will," he said "Thank you, Theodora."

There was something about the way he said her name - like he was testing out the weight of it. She wasn't unused to people being unsure about it, it wasn't very common, but with him it was different. For a second she almost opened her mouth to tell him just to call her Theo, but she stopped. She quite liked how the full thing sounded when he said it.

Theo saw James on and off throughout the rest of the night - chatting to other former soldiers, getting to know those of her dad's pals that he didn't already know, and slowly but surely she noticed the tension easing from his shoulders and the smoothing of his brow. He even undid the top button of his shirt, although he kept his sleeves firmly rolled down and buttoned up. Sure, he didn't end up on the dance floor, but she got the impression that he would not do so unless dragged, and that was fair.

What she noticed most of all, though, was how many times she'd glance his way to find him already watching her. And how, while that sort of thing would usually creep her out from anybody else, she found that from him it made her blush.

It was later in the night, once she'd had enough drinks to make her feel exceedingly comfortable in her own skin (but not so much that she was a complete mess) that she sat down at a small abandoned table, sweaty, a little bit dishevelled, and in a lot of pain. Easing one of her heels off with a wince, she took stock of where it had cut into the back of her heel and grimaced.

"That looks painful."

His accent gave him away - his voice too, for that matter, since it was pretty distinctive - as he took the other seat at the table.

"It'll be even worse when I put 'em back on," she said sourly.

"It seems there are some things even nepotism cannot save you from."

"I'm sorry?" She blinked her confusion, tilting her head at him.

"Oh, er," he flushed "A joke - a poor one, I'm sorry, just that-"

"Oh - right, because earlier…no, I'm sorry - I'm slow on the uptake, that was my bad," she waved a hand.

"It was a very bad joke," he reiterated, brushing off her apologies "Here."

Holding out a hand, he offered her a fresh bottle of water - one that he must've gone to the bar to get, rather than the free-for-all table, judging by the condensation dripping off of it.

"For me?" Her eyebrows raised.

"You look as though you need it."

Any suaveness of the gesture was ruined when the lads at the next table over, either too drunk or simply too uncaring to keep their voices down, muttered to each other.

"Looks like our man over there's shootin' his shot with Theo."

"Very smart or very brave."

"It's very stupid or very brave, fool."

Theo was about to tell him not to pay them only mind, but when she looked to him she found him smirking.

"An ironic part to fumble, is it not?"

Breathing a laugh, she accepted the bottle "Thank you."

Cracking it open, she took a few sips and then capped it again, pressing it to her heel and hissing through her teeth as the cold plastic made contact. She refused to read too much into the gesture - outside comments aside.

Maybe he was flirting. Or maybe he was just being friendly. Or it could even be that he was trying to kiss her dad's backside by being nice to her. She sincerely doubted that last possibility, but she wasn't naive enough to rule it out. In any case, she didn't know, and it was a nice gesture - she wasn't about to spit in the face of it.

"Are you settling in okay, then?" She asked.

"I am," he nodded "Everybody here has been very kind."

"Good," she nodded "I'm glad. Tell me if that changes."

He snorted "Are you planning on fighting my battles for me? I'm not sure I need it."

"Oh I doubt you do - but it'd be funny. And half of 'em here wouldn't feel right about hitting me back, so it's a bit of a loophole, y'know?"

"Risky Business and the Englishman," he said drily "It sounds like a terrible police comedy-drama."

Theo laughed, raking her hair back from her face and smiling at him.

"Don't invoke that name - I've gotten away with not doing it so far, you're going to jinx it."

"My apologies," he said mock-solemnly, and then he tugged at the cuff of his sleeve "I…"

No sooner had he began to speak than a halting piano riff began to blare out over the speakers and Theo groaned aloud, watching as every head in the hall began turning, trying to spot her.

"See what you did?" She scolded, putting down the water bottle.

For a moment, she vaguely considered running. But then she sighed, put her big girl pants on, and took up one of the clean cloth napkins from the table.

"Here, will you give me a hand?" she asked.

He blinked his surprise and she didn't blame him, but when she pulled her hair forward to one side of her neck and began to tuck half of the napkin beneath the back of her dress, he eventually caught on and began to help her - although sparingly, like she'd tell him off if his fingers brushed her neck too much. And maybe she would - but only because of the way it gave rise to goosebumps going all the way down her spine. She hoped he didn't notice.

By the time the napkin was tucked down the back of her dress, half of it peeking up and out like some sort of bizarre backwards bib, he was staring at her like she'd gone mad. It was a pretty fair assessment.

"It's part of the bit, you'll see - but you have to promise you won't hold what you're about to see against me," she said.

She didn't pause to wait and see if he would agree to her terms - mostly because she knew if she did, she'd bottle it at the last second and not rise to the challenge. Sighing heavily, she stood and began to march towards the dance floor to raucous drunken cheers, leaving her shoes behind so she didn't snap an ankle.

James watched, bemused and intrigued both as his unwitting soulmate strode barefoot out onto the dance floor as though this was something she very much wanted to do. The only thing that gave away her true reluctance being the bashful smile tugging at her lips as the piano intro to Bob Seger's Old Time Rock & Roll rang out so loudly that it shook the hall.

The piano riff repeated, and she struck a pose, and then tugged up the napkin to stand on end, like she was popping up a collar. It worked, for the onlookers lost it, cheering and falling into bursts of laughter. James smiled - he couldn't help it. Ordinarily he'd find displays like these juvenile. Attention seeking, perhaps. And maybe if he did not bear Theodora's first words to him on his arm, he would think so now, too. But perhaps not. She was charming, and it wasn't as though she was demanding that everybody gather around to witness her put on a show. It was a bit of good-natured ribbing, endured with a level of humour he couldn't help but smile at.

It made sense, he supposed. Were he fated to end up with one so serious as he was often accused of being, it would make for a dreary life indeed. But Theodora? Oh, Theodora was anything but dreary.

The song picked up in earnest next - all rough vocals and upbeat guitar - and she began dancing in earnest. She was a good dancer, too, swinging her hips and moving in time to the music with just enough exaggerated cheesiness to prove she wasn't taking herself too seriously. There was a level of comfort in her own skin that entranced him - like it didn't occur to her to be uncertain of her own body just as it wouldn't occur to a cat, or some other sort of feline.

By the time the second verse began, others began joining in. Content to take that as a sign that they were laughing with her and not at her (although there hadn't been much doubt on that score), and worried that if he kept watching his gaze would become less, ahem, respectful, James excused himself from the function hall and made his way outside into the night. When she learned the truth, she likely would not thank him for having witnessed her performance.

He would have to tell her soon. Tonight would be best. He already would have done, had they not been interrupted. It wasn't ideal - he was nervous, although he'd never let something so minor as nerves prevent him from doing anything - and he'd much rather have this conversation with her when she had not been drinking. But she was tipsy at most, from what he could gather, and if he put it off much longer he may be construed as hiding it from her…and he did not know when he would see her next. It almost alarmed him how distasteful he already found that last part.

There were a few smokers out here, clutching their arms about themselves to ward off the chill that bit all the more thanks to the humidity inside. They offered him nods or waves but did not approach.

What would he even say to her? How would he say it? Inside, he'd been intending simply to show her his arm, but would that be too forward? Should he leave it for another night? Drop by uninvited a few nights from now? Catch her as she was leaving tonight and ask her to get coffee with him tomorrow? No, it all seemed much too complicated.

He would go back inside, and ask for a moment of her time when she was done dancing. The song had already wound to a close, replaced by some eighties rock hit, she would not be missed if she slipped away. She would have to come back to the table for her shoes, and perhaps for her water. He would lead her outside, and he would show her. They would take things from there.

As if the mark on his arm was not sign enough, the fact that the moment his mind was made up, the old wooden double doors swung open and Theodora (now once again clad in her shoes) stepped out into the cool night air absolutely would have cemented his decision. The bottle of water he'd gotten her dangled from one hand, and her makeshift napkin collar was nowhere in sight.

Spotting him, she smiled bashfully and approached, walking stiffly - not doubt thanks to the return of the heels.

"It's too warm in there - needed a bit of air. Did you have the same idea? Or did my performance send you running for cover?"

"Not quite," he said, shifting uncomfortably and then sighing "But I think we had better discuss this."

Theodora stood in the amber light of the lamp affixed to the wall, watching in confusion, then dawning realisation, and finally shock as he unbuttoned the cuff of his shirt and rolled it up, revealing the words wrapping around his wrist.

Her eyes remained wide as she stared at them, and then finally she gently curled her fingers around his forearm, angling his wrist towards the meagre lighting as though doing so would change what was written there.

Fair enough - it's an acquired taste, and it has to be acquired by force.

She let go.

"Oh god," she said, a hand rising to her hair of its own volition as she stepped away, like that would solve things "Oh fuck."

James' head bowed "I know I may not be quite-"

"No, no, it's not that, you're lovely, you're golden, and you're criminally handsome by the way, I'm actually pretty relieved I don't have to pretend I hadn't noticed so now, but it's…oh Christ, I did my Risky Business routine in front of you," she groaned, covering her face with a hand "Jesus, this is a new low. A brand new low. This is rock bottom's basement, you know?"

"You did not spend much of the night standing on the sidelines like a Victorian footman, failing to interact with anybody unless they spoke with you first, and barely able to formulate a response if they spoke too quickly before your ears could become accustomed to their accents."

"I put a napkin down the back of my dress, James," she bemoaned.

"It was an integral part of your routine, if memory serves," he smiled - not because he was teasing her, but because she said his name.

The next groan that left her was half sobbed out, and James took pity on her.

"You were lovely. You…you are lovely."

Slowly, like he was approaching a skittish stray cat, he closed the gap between them, reaching up to pull her hand away from her face. She allowed it easily, her eyes burning into his face as he drew back the sleeve of her dress, and then pulled away the delicate gold chain bracelet. There were the words. As if he'd needed the confirmation. No, thank you.

He knew what it would say, but it still offered a concrete explanation as to why she hadn't known as he had. He could only thank the powers that be that the one on his arm was much more specific, leaving no room at all for doubt.

"A tad less unique than mine," he deadpanned.

"Sorry," she breathed a laugh - not sounding too sorry, either.

"Don't be," he shook his head.

What came next? He'd heard stories of those who had met their intended and immediately fallen into bed with them. He was not so naive as to pretend he did not understand that - although it wasn't what he wanted. Well, it was what he wanted, but not like that. Not like this. Certainly not when she was not sober. He wanted to get to know her, he wanted to make up for all of the time they'd lost, he wanted to…

Following an impulse, he lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to the words on her wrist - and bit back a smirk at the quiet intake of breath it drew from her. He couldn't be too smug for long, though, for the water bottle smacked off of the ground as she dropped it in favour of winding her arms about his neck. James dipped his head on instinct, meeting her halfway and kissing her back the moment her lips slotted against his, arms wrapping around her waist to steady her and pull her against him.

One hand slid up the smooth, silky fabric of her dress - feeling the curve of her spine, the slight jut of her shoulder blades - but before he could press his tongue between her lips, the door to the hall began to creak open and they sprang apart, suddenly aware that they very much were not in private.

Lifting a hand, he wiped the lipstick from about his mouth, and she smiled softly at him - looking up at him with a sort of admiration that threatened to steal the air from his lungs. As she tucked his hair behind his ear, he spoke.

"I'm not sure how we're supposed to go about this," he admitted, watching her keenly - he couldn't help it.

Mirroring her action, he twirled a strand of her hair around one of his fingers - it was like fire in the orange glow of the lamp.

"Me either," she admitted.

"Coffee. We could get coffee."

"When?"

"As soon as possible. Tomorrow?"

"Why not now?"

He smiled, thrilled to see his own eagerness reflected back at him "I'm not sure there's anywhere still open."

"There's a twenty-four hour McDonald's ten minutes away. It's hardly fine dining, but it'll give us a bit of time to ourselves."

James' smile widened "I'll get my coat."

He couldn't help but kiss her again before he did.