Ric let a kiss drop onto Connie's lips as he began to raise her from a contented slumber, moving back as she shook her head from a misty dream. "What time is it?" she grumbled sitting up in bed as he slipped in beside her, taking her hand he held it under the covers, hiding it from everyone else but her, she bit her lip to prevent the smile from crossing her face, it felt right to attempt to hide things like this from the other, it kept the game vibrant. She wasn't entirely sure what all she'd admitted to Ric during the previous night, but she was sure of one thing, that she'd told him she loved him, she felt the same right now, in this moment. Ric had evidently understood that she had meant it from the bottom of her heart.
"I meant what I said last night," Connie told him, somehow clicking back into the equilibrium she'd so often maintained in the past. She felt the squeeze on her hand tighten slightly as Ric looked her up and down, the damage she'd enforced on her body the night before had subsided somewhat, her skin was only marginally red and the dressing looked only slightly dog eared from her rough nights sleep.
Sitting in amicable silence for what seemed only seconds, Ric reached his free arm round her, cradling her lightly, he wasn't wanting to be the one to rock the boat, but they both knew deep down that today was going to come, drag out and leave slowly by clouded starry night skies. "Perhaps we should get breakfast," Ric asked tentatively, letting his grip release on her shoulders as she slipped away from him, nodding feebly.
He watched her slowly tip toe across to the wardrobe, picking out the one suit she'd taken on holiday, pondering over which colour of top went best, all things considered she plonks for the white one, laying them out on the bed she quickly returns for her underwear. She lifts the soft black lacy bra and matching thong from the drawer he carefully put them in the night before. Stalking back over she plonks herself on the bed removing her nightdress with detailed care and attention. "Want a hand," he asks, softly lifting her bra up both arms, it reminds him of times as a dad, helping a two year old dress himself, she is like that; vulnerable. He hears her stifled a minute gasp as he lets the clasp fall into place, sorting out a twist in the straps as he does so, his arms gently yet purposefully turn her round so she is facing him, it's like having sex in reverse, yet loosing none of the love. He lifts up the thong, teasing it up her legs, missing the parts she's still hurting from, he smiles before he kisses it in place, silently telling her all will be ok. He lifts the shirt out of its neat folds; opening the buttons and slipping the cool, iridescently damp cotton over her arms, admiring it as it falls diligently onto her curves, each button making it look even more exacting. The trousers slip on just as easily, its something he admires about her; the respect she has for her body. The zip does up just so, perfectly finishing the entire outfit.
"Thank you," Connie smiled as Ric rushed to catch up with her ready state, they make quite a couple, she in her power suit, he in his black suit, dark glasses to match, he wraps his arms around her before she put her delicate feet into power heels, savouring the last of her true vulnerability.
Connie strutted down the length of the corridor, tapping her foot impatiently as they waited for the lift; it wasn't so out of irritation so much as nerves. Following her Ric could clearly tell she was nervous, her shoulder's hunched, her eyes gazing towards the vibrant carpet, not something someone who was as hung over as she was would do. He let his hands rest on her shoulders as the churning of the lift flooded the still corridor, "it will be ok today Connie," Ric smiled, letting his hands loosen the knots in her shoulders.
"Will it?" Connie retorted, doubting even her own convictions, storming into the lift and pushing the button repetitively, not caring the doors nearly closed on Ric. She lent her back against the wall, letting a heavy sigh trail off her lips, her lost eyes crossed his worried one's fighting a battle somewhere mid way.
"Yes it will Connie, he's in the wrong, not you. You are only there for the formalities," Ric replied, tempering her acid hot presence with difficult ease. They walked aside each other in stone cold silence, the bustling lobby seemed to come to a standstill as they crossed the marble topped floor, her heels sending tiny fracturing earthquakes in every direction.
The taxi journey was silent, stone cold silence, Ric wasn't going to tempt fate by making idol conversation now, he would either be fired one of her well known glares or she would mutter two words to the tune of duck off. Neither of which he wanted to receive. The car ground to a halt sooner than either of them had expected, passing money through the hatch Connie took her time getting out, unsure of whether it would delay the inevitable or drag it out further. Walking up to the entrance Connie groaned in mild irritation as she spotted Michael coming at pace towards them. "I'm so sorry about this," she mumbled in Ric's direction before he'd realised what was happening.
"He has a right to be here," Ric responded, only slightly irritated by the appearance of his foe. They hadn't seen each other since his return to Holby, since the time he and Connie had kissed on the platform, since he'd felt utterly ashamed.
Stopping right in front of his wife Michael dragged her into a forced hug, maintaining the worst possible public image, grabbing her shoulders with mild force he smiled passively at Ric, "I've been worried sick about you, where did you go? What happened?"
Smiling politely in return, Connie let her hand affectionately rub his arms, she may not feel any passion toward him, but they'd been best friends since forever. "Don't worry about that now, shall we," Connie nodded in the general direction of the courthouse, striding in front, clearly vetoing the get it over with option.
"Has she been ok?" Michael asked Ric with the slight intone of worry as the two gentlemen made their way up the stone steps, making haste into the building so as to not loose sight of Connie.
"As well as she could have been," Ric shrugged, he neither wanted to deposit her self harming issues on him now, focusing on the task was what they needed to do. Finding the correct court Michael shuffled onto a wooden bench just outside, taking her hand without jest and squeezing it tightly.
"Everything's going to be ok," he smiled falsely, sending Ric off in the direction of a seat in the corner, attempting to break them up now would only end up in some sort of defacing debacle which he was quite happy to avoid.
It was almost dusk when the three professionals made their way down the steps, Connie huddling in the coat she'd brought, Ric and Michael braving the chilly wind. As they came to the taxi's queuing up to ferry both victims and offenders away from court they came to a standstill, Connie leaning more towards Ric than Michael, making it nothing more than a non verbal queue for Michael to take the high road.
"So what now?" Ric asked eventually, taking his time to glace between husband and wife stood facing one another, Connie bit her lip in careful consideration, torn between the lover and husband, it wasn't fair on her.
"My stuff is at the hotel Michael, I'll come home in a few days, and I need time to think," Connie smiled weakly as Michael's face dropped like a lead balloon, snaking down into a sad frown, lifting herself onto her toes she kissed his cheek with the gentlest touch before concentrating more on Ric, "I'll be home in two days at the latest I promise," she continued, mid way into a backward glance.
"So where too now," Ric smiled as they turned the corner and left Michael far out of sight, the broken pavement the only rip in their path.
"I fancy going for an incredibly hot curry," Connie smirked, trailing her sentence off, mindlessly telling him the rest of the night's plans and activities. It followed, a curry, enough alcohol to quell the sting in the mouth, or at least hope for the desired effect, to then collapse in bed without a memory of what happened.
"Ok then," Ric agreed, placing his hand round her waist, gently squeezing the warmth back into it, enjoying the feeling of her head scrape against his chest as they continued their way to the local curry house.
Several eventful hours later, Ric laid Connie's slightly inebriated body down on the bed, listening to her muffled breathing. Sitting on the bed next to her he slowly took off each shoe, going as carefully as he could possibly manage, not wanting to disturb her erratic sleeping. It took some task to get her jacket off, followed swiftly by her top, he was convinced he saw smiles of pleasure drift onto her lips like boat dreams, going with the rhythm of her body he took to undoing the clasp on her trousers, something to the tune of "that felt good" tripped out of her mouth, drifting down her leg, like a cat purring in earnest of her prey. He lifted her legs up one at a time, letting the pressed material drape of the bed and onto the floor, finding an irresistible position on the carpet, his attentions turned back towards her now near on naked form, the only items remaining the black bra and matching thong, it felt crisp to the touch as he shuffled her further up the bed.
"Don't stop on my account," she purred, slightly slurring her accent as he lifted back the covers, he pondered her comment for a moment, dismissing it as a stupid drunk request. When he saw her eye glint at him, he reconsidered, someone who was as drunk as she appeared would be completely unable to contain such soulful meaning to a look. He let his hands work round to the clasp on her bra, undoing it in complete opposite to what he'd done that very morning, he left the bra in place as much as he could physically let himself, snaking his hands back over her cool skin, sending her nerves to spasm. He lifted each loosened strap up, one at a time, letting his breath tickle her senses even more, the utter confusion driving her to melting point. He got a full look of them eventually, it sends him to pleasure, they lie their perfectly, erect, to attention, like soldiers waiting for deployment, ready for battle, waiting for the adrenaline rush, the kick. His lips fell on them like a tiny bomb, encasing them in fury, excitement, thrill, erotic spasm. She gasped as he flicked his damp, wet tongue over them, hardening them, nibbling them, letting the return flaccid, then repeating it, all to a rhythm, like the beat of a drum, the drum's he'd hear in his mind, from his childhood. He had yet to straddle her, he did it with utter care, the graze of skin on skin making them both recoil in mischief, as he grazed her further he could feel himself harden, her hands grasping him in one swift movement, he hadn't even gone the whole way. Her thumb drifted back and forth with ease, the grip still remaining strong, his only response to groan, letting the single toned moan go in slow easy releases, trailing up to her ears, acting as a catalyst to her toying. Growing tired of working Connie let go, letting him sit their in space, as if defying every gravity law ever written, "my turn," he smirked, revelling in her moan as he let himself in, turning his key in her lock, eagerly watching her hands wretch at the bed clothes in an attempt to stop herself sliding away, finding the feeling so intense that withdrawing would kill the fizz, yet enjoying it for the knowledge it would be a long time till the next countenance, like lovers about to set sail into foreign waters; apart. She was fast heading for the vortex, feeling the swirling motion carry her away to the castaway island of contentment, the motion of her body being laid to rest on soft golden sands, relaxing into its comforting heat, opening her eyes only to realise it was Ric's body she was lying on, her body gracing his like a dancer, light to the touch yet eternally graceful, magical to watch at anytime of the day, in any state of mind, a trophy to love honour and treasure.