Title:The Policeman's Ball

Pairing:Grace/Boyd

Rating:PG

Summary:His little black book had effectively dried up

Spoilers:Nothing specific but up to and including Series six to be Notes:Spending all day blistering medication your mind wanders and this is what you get. Something a little lighter than Clarity and Salvation. The final instalment which I hope leaves you wanting more. . .

Chapter Five

Grace walked into the office, glancing discreetly at Boyd's office before dropping her belongings on her desk. "Good morning, all," she called into the bullpen.

"Cinderella returns," Spence teased. "And you didn't turn into pumpkin. Good night?"

"I think so."

"Oh I smell a story." Stella grinned, leaning forward onto her hands. "Do tell all."

"Too much cheap table wine," Grace dismissed. She had no intention of sharing the details, or rather what she had managed to piece together in the daily commute.

Boyd came bustling through the doors, his head down, acknowledging no one before heading into his office and closing the door.

"What did he do?" Spence asked, watching his boss' path and half expecting to hear the worst. "Who did he manage to piss off?"

Grace glanced back towards his office, wondering how they were going to get through the day if he was planning on avoiding her. "He was on his best behaviour."

"Well something's pissed him off." Spence groaned. "Did you make sure he left the dinner with you?"

She glared back at him. "What am I? His keeper?"

Spencer gave Grace his most charming smile. "Well God knows left to his own devices he can irritate anyone. And I have a feeling he's going to be irritating a lot of people today. So he likes you. You should do your thing." He gestured as though he was a magician.

The last thing she felt like doing was talking to Boyd. She knew exactly what was eating him, or at least she presumed it had something to do with waking up in her bed. Boyd being Boyd it was also possible something happened on the way to work. "My thing?"

"When he's on one you go in there, talk to him, placate him. He yells a little. Sometimes you yell a little. You chastise him and then he comes out a new man."

"Technically he just doesn't bark at us quite as much," Stella offered.

Grace rolled her eyes.

"Do you really want him pissed all day?"

She momentarily pondered what the day would be like if they didn't at least reach a détente of sorts and it really wasn't going to be all that much fun for anyone, besides, as she concluded, the quickest way to them being able to be friends again was to actually talk. Taking a deep breath, she walked towards Boyd's door. Knocking lightly, she walked in and dropped onto his couch. After a lengthy and awkward silence, during which he continued to stare at the papers on his desk and refused to meet her eyes, she finally spoke. "By consensus I've been nominated to brighten your day."

"You always do that." He failed to look at her.

Grace scanned the room, debating whether to hurl a heavy object in his direction. She decided on a gentler approach. "So, next time we go out we should avoid the cheap red wine," she offered quietly but playfully, toying with her hands in her lap. "Maybe stick to places that charge more than seven pounds a bottle. Of course you'll have to pay, I can't afford it."

He finally looked up at her, startled by the lightness of her tone.

She held his gaze. "Stop taking it so seriously, Boyd," she chided. "It not exactly the first time it's happened in your life. At least you were dressed, I was dressed, nothing happened other than two old friends got drunk and passed out."

"Half dressed, Grace," he said quietly, the feel of her satin skin imprinted in his brain.

"And I thought I looked pretty good for my age." So what if she was a few pounds heavy than the last time a man had been in bed, she wasn't twenty-one anymore and she was more than willing to look past his faults, of which there were many.

"Grace!"

"I know I'm not . . ."

"You looked pretty good for your age. I noticed." He stopped and glanced at her before looking away. It wasn't that he was embarrassed about what happened. It was his reaction that concerned him. She was one of his closest friends, probably his only real female friend and for a brief moment he had been in her bed, toying with her hair and wanting to kiss her. It was the exact situation he promised he would never get himself in, not least because it was the perfect way to ruin a friendship and Grace knew him and his quirks far too well to even consider a date with him. "It's just inappropriate."

"Ok." There wasn't really anything else she could say, or rather there was nothing else she could say to reason with him.

He glanced over at her, surprised. "Ok?"

"I just don't feel like over-reacting. Maybe I'm too old for all the awkward morning-after-ness. I did enough of that in my teens."

He raised an eyebrow, expecting her to elaborate.

"I'll tell you about it next time we get drunk." Grace rolled her eyes and rose to her feet. "For now, get over it." She counted as she made her way towards the door, her hand on the door handle before she turned, a wry smile on her face.

Boyd was staring at her, his face revealing nothing of what was going through his brain.

She moved to leave then changed her mind, deciding that it had to be one of those now or never opportunities. "I guess I should share something with you."

He leaned forward in his seat, wondering what she was going to say next.

"They say you can't teach an old dog new tricks but they never seem to anticipate that the old dog might have a few old tricks up their sleeve. And you know, the old ones are the best." Her smile widened, "I guess what I'm trying to say, Boyd is . . ." She paused, blushing at how silly she sounded, "You don't know what you've missed." With that she left his office, not wanting to see if he was horrified at the prospect or mildly intrigued.

Boyd sat rooted to his seat, his jaw dropping as he contemplated what she had said, wondering if he was imagining the insinuation in her words, hoping that maybe for once they were both on the same page. His lips tweaked upwards into a smile, whatever, something told him they would be going out to dinner very soon.

The End