The Boyfriend


Summary: Pseudo-canon. Sometime pre-series. Martha has a new boyfriend. No it's not Clive. Yes you should read this whether you're a C&M shipper or not!

Disclaimer: Still don't own Silk.


A.N. Thanks for the love on the first chapter! This is a bit of a slim chapter but it just worked out that way. I don't really get into much Martha and Rob as you'll see. I'm pretty confident none of you are going to be terribly disappointed!


'I know,' he said quickly. 'But think about it on the way? I'm gasping for a drink!'

And that's how she came to find herself in the Crown, Clive across the table.

'Hi,' Robert said as he joined them.

If Clive was studying him he kept it very subtle, introducing himself with a brief shake of the hand before excusing himself to the bar, taking their orders with him.

'So that's Clive,' Robert said, sliding into the booth beside her and planting a kiss on her cheek, which is all she offered in light of their rather public surroundings.

'Yeah,' she said, not sure what the correct response was to that really. 'How was your day?'

'Good.'

They languished in intermittent silence broken only by a little more small talk about their respective afternoons and vague plans for the weekend, Rob's hand seeking hers under the table top and Martha feeling that little bit self-conscious, awkward and out of place, which was weird when this was one of her usual haunts. It was just she didn't like mixing the two worlds, the two parts of herself and this felt like playing with fire.

Clive glanced across from the bar and could see it, the tangible awkwardness, the stiffness in her posture, the glances at her colleagues and contemporaries. He leaned in towards the barman again and changed his order.

The couple were chatting when he came back over, depositing Martha's red wine and Rob's pint on the table.

'Where's yours?' she asked.

'Change of plan,' he said. 'Heather's having a crisis. Figured I'd go, ah, loiter at her work for once.'

Martha gave him a smile that said many things. He wasn't quite sure whether she could tell he was lying or not but he knew she appreciated the gesture.

'It was nice to meet you,' he said to Rob, making sure not to use his name, either full or shortened. 'Sorry I have to head off.'

'No worries,' said the younger man. 'Thanks for the pint. I owe you one sometime.'

Clive nodded, shrugging into his overcoat. 'I'll see you tomorrow,' he said to Martha and took his leave.

She was right. It was awkward. The meeting he had pressed so hard for felt unnecessary, indulging his curiosity for no good reason. He couldn't really envision a time when he would purposefully get into a situation where Rob could return the round. He usually dated if not within the Bar then at least the wider circle of professionals that they met. That had its own challenges but going outside of that was different, even more complicated and he didn't envy Martha's task in knitting together two entirely different lives. He and Heather had plenty in common and yet they struggled beyond the bedroom. The thought made him pull out his phone to call her; he may as well make part of his lie a truth by seeing her this evening.

In contrast to the two occupants of the front office, Billy was in fine spirits the following morning. 'Mr Reader, Sir!' he bellowed, striding his way into their office with a flourish punctuated by the bang of the door handle as it hit the wall and made them both wince. 'I hear you had the pleasure of meeting Miss Costello's, erm, paramour last night?'

'Ah…,' Clive said, glancing across at Martha who was at her desk, head down but clearly listening. 'Meeting would be a bit of an exaggeration Billy. We merely crossed paths in the Crown.'

'Oh. I was hoping for a little more information than that. What did he seem like?'

'I'm right here you two!' Martha cut in. 'Much as I'm trying to ignore you.'

'Yes Miss, but you won't tell me anything. Mr Reader has no such qualms.'

'He…seemed to be a pleasant enough chap,' Clive said diplomatically.

'Teacher I heard?'

'Academic. University lecturer.'

'Hmm,' Billy said decisively, but whether that was a positive or negative remark wasn't clear.

'Any particular reason you're asking about Robert, Billy?' Marth asked sharply. Someone must have reported their meeting in the Crown to the Senior Clerk and she resolved to never take a date to the chambers' local again.

'I'm just checking on the wellbeing of my flock Miss.'

'And yet the only relationship in question is mine at present. That's sexist Billy. Why don't you ask Clive about Heather whatsherface?'

Billy knew when she had him and so he didn't argue, turning back to Clive asking, 'And how is the lovely Heather, Mr Reader?'

'Probably reuniting with her fiancé as we speak.'

'What?' Martha couldn't help the exclamation.

'Trouble in paradise, Sir?'

'Not sure there was really paradise to begin with Billy, but not unexpected in the slightest.'

'Well you're in luck, Sir, nothing like hard work as the balm for a broken heart,' he said, adding another brief to the pile of folders on Clive's desk. 'I think you'll find this one suitably diverting.'

'Thanks Billy, I can always rely on you to cheer me up.'

'You're the best there is, Sir, can't have you drowning your sorrows when you could be heading to Holloway Mags this afternoon. Feel free to return yesterday's brief.'

Clive grinned. 'Knew there was a reason you're my favourite Senior Clerk!'

'Your only Senior Clerk,' Billy pointed out but he was laughing as he moved for the door. 'Miss,' he said by way of farewell and then he was gone, door banging shut behind him.

'You broke up with Heather last night?'

'Yeah.'

'Why didn't you say something?'

'What, Marth? I would have told you when it came up. I wasn't going to come in this morning and announce it to chambers at large was I?'

'Well no, but…I feel like I put my foot in it, with Billy, made you say it.'

'I could have lied easily enough Marth. Don't stress about it.'

'Are you okay?'

'Yeah, yeah.'

'I suppose it wasn't that serious was it?' The question could have come across blunt and uncaring from anyone else but he knew she was checking whether he really was okay.

'No, no. I'll leave that to you I think.'

'Did she…'

'We don't have to do this Marth, get into it.'

'I asked. If you want to tell someone then tell me but if you don't, you don't have to talk about it.'

'We were fine, but, I don't know. I knew she wasn't happy, not really. She got a text, last night, from her ex. She didn't reply but she kept looking at it and eventually I just said she should do what she wanted, what would make her happy.'

'That's actually really sweet Clive.'

Clive gave a silent laugh, little more than an exhale. 'I knew what would happen and I did it anyway. I'm not usually that selfless.'

'Maybe you don't give yourself enough credit.'

Clive looked awkward and clumsily changed the subject. 'Sorry about leaving last night, I hope it didn't come across as rude.'

'No, not at all. I appreciated it actually.'

'How was the rest of your night?'

'Fine.'

'Fine?' Clive queried, immediately picking up on the four letter red flag. 'Did something happen?'

She wasn't going to tell him. Wasn't going to dump her relationship woes on him when he was in the immediate aftermath of a break up but Clive had other ideas.

'Not really,' was her noncommittal response. 'Let's just say neither of us had that great an evening.'

'I won't mock if you want to tell me,' Clive said and he seemed so earnest that she considered it for a moment. 'Frankly it might make me feel a bit better about my romantic life now being a shambles!'

Somehow she doubted that it would stay that way much beyond this evening, or at least the weekend, but she relented. 'My evening didn't take as dramatic a turn as yours but we had a bit of a minor disagreement on the way home.'

'What about?'

'I'm not even sure how it started now, just about whose place we were going back to, what we were going to have for dinner, something like that. We were probably just hungry but it kind of snowballed. Turned out to really be about the fact I haven't invited him to the Christmas party!'

'The Christmas party?!'

'Yes. I know. Ridiculous isn't it? Turns out Kate introduced herself while I was at the bar, mentioned seeing him again there.'

'Bloody Kate.' Clive was quick to sympathise. He and the relatively new junior were no longer on speaking terms following the aftermath of a certain death row story.

'You're the one who slept with her,' Martha pointed out.

'Are you going to hold that against me forever?' Clive said. 'It was a lapse in judgement.'

'Don't whinge, Clive, it doesn't suit you.'

He pouted instead and Martha barely suppressed an eye roll.

'So anyway, I'm blaming Kate for my rubbish evening.'

'Seems like a sound judgement to me. Think it'll blow over or is young Rob on the out?'

'It wasn't that bad,' Martha said quickly. 'We'll see if he brings it up again. If he apologises.'

'You're not going to then?'

'I didn't do anything!' Martha snapped. 'He's the one overreacting…'

Her complaint was interrupted by Clive's laughter.

'What?' she asked sulkily.

'I wasn't expecting you to take me seriously. You may as well break up now if he's waiting on you!'

'What's that supposed to mean?'

'When was the last time you apologised?'

'When was the last time I did something requiring an apology?'

'Don't ask me,' Clive said. 'We operate on the "ignore it until one of us forgets why we were mad in the first place" principle.'

It was true. Whenever they rowed, really rowed, there never appeared to be any need for explanations or apologies afterwards; they cooled off and carried on as normal until the next time something sparked between them. Perhaps it was unorthodox, perhaps it was unhealthy but it worked.

'I much prefer that policy,' Martha muttered and changed the subject. 'When was your boring brief due to go to trial?'

'The one I'm returning?'

'Yeah.'

'Ah, tomorrow.'

'Fancy sending it my way?'

'You don't want it Marth, trust me.'

'I want an excuse to avoid Robert tonight if I want to and this,' she indicated the open brief on her desk, 'doesn't start for another three weeks. I need something short to tide me over until our fraud.'

'Fine by me,' Clive said, shuffling the file out of his pile. 'But don't say I didn't warn you!'

'Someone's either feeling amorous or in the doghouse,' Billy observed a few hours later as he opened the door of the office for Jake who was carrying a modest but conspicuously wrapped bouquet or plant of some kind.

Martha looked up and felt her insides squirm. Nice as it was to receive flowers, their arrival at work felt like an invasion of the personal into the professional and rather embarrassing.

'For you, Miss,' Jake said, unnecessarily, since she was the only one in the office and while Clive had been sent many things including a rather nice hamper one Christmas, a decent showing of Valentine's cards each year and even a pair of underwear, flowers were yet to feature.

Jake set his burden on the corner of her desk and nervously backed away as though it might topple off if he as much as breathed too hard in the vicinity.

'Thanks Jake.'

'They're not from me,' he said quickly. 'Courier dropped them off. There's a card.'

'Yes. Thank you for bringing them in though Jake.'

'Of course, Miss,' he said, flushing, and Billy waved him out.

'Trouble in paradise for you too, Miss? And so soon?'

'Why do you say that?' she asked, reaching for the bow on the cellophane and tugging until a glazed white planter and a cluster of hyacinths were revealed.

'Hyacinths, Miss. Blue and purple like that mean sincerity and a request for forgiveness.'

'How do you know that?' Martha asked, struck by Billy's strange and sudden knowledge of the meanings of flowers.

'Never underestimate what I know, Miss. Should I add young Robert to the Christmas party table plan?'

'Out, Billy!'

'Going Miss, going,' Billy said, pulling the door shut with an exaggerated bow.

She eyed the flowers speculatively, better able to appreciate the gesture without being self-conscious now she was alone. The blooms were bright and the scent, intense from being captured in cellophane, was heady. She wondered how he'd found ones that bloomed so early. Remembering Jake's words about a card, she searched the wrapping and detached a small white square. The gesture, awkward as she had felt about it at first, combined with Billy's unexpected explanation of what the flowers meant, had her frustrated feelings towards Robert thawing considerably. She hoped the note wouldn't undo the good work with triteness or attempted justification.

She was pleasantly surprised.

Martha, he had written, himself, she noted, recognising the hand and thinking affectionately how that meant he had made a trip to the florist in person. Last night felt like the first time we really clashed and while I don't imagine that it will be the last, I hope it's not something we do often. I won't offer any excuses, just an apology. I'm sorry. Robert.

If Clive noticed the flowers when he got back from court he didn't comment. He continued to call Robert 'Rob' whenever he was mentioned but never instigated another conversation specifically about him. The weeks passed into months and Robert became a fixture, not really noteworthy or requiring comment any more. The speculation in chambers stopped after Robert picked her up one day, outside of course but the clerks had been watching from the window. He was just a fact of life, background, not really impinging on the day to day, at least not for him. Clive didn't know whether she'd told Rob, in the end, about their friendship, but the topic didn't come up again. After Heather came and went, back to the arms of her indecisive fiancé just as he'd predicted, he'd felt strangely sensitive about Martha's relationship. It wasn't usual for her to have someone when he didn't but he didn't like the idea of being jealous, either of her attached status or of Rob. He didn't stay single for long, of course, or rather his bed didn't stay empty for long, shall we say, and he buried the strange feeling until it was mostly forgotten. Nothing had really changed, not in their relationship anyway. They shared their office, life and the occasional drink, he flirted with mixed success and she kept his ego in check with varying levels of sarcasm, work was busy and life went on.