Sorry, this took a while. (There was a slight case of going to the pub again).
After her lectures, in the late morning, she came and found him in his and Thomas' office.
"Have you got time for a coffee?" she asked him.
"Yes, of course I have," he replied immediately, scooping his jacket off the back of the chair.
He ignored Thomas' raised eyebrows, he couldn't have given a shit.
"How are you feeling?" he asked quietly, as soon as they were out of the building and down the front steps.
She half turned, leaning into him, a residual smile lingering on her lips.
"I'm alright," she told him softly, "I feel good. Are you alright?"
"Yes," he replied, "Bit tired."
"Not get much sleep?" she pretended to chide him, raising an eyebrow at him.
They exchanged a smirk and were quiet the rest of the way to the coffee shop. He opened the door for her, momentarily resting has hand on the small of her back as he guided her inside. The quiet table in the corner was still free.
"You go and get that," he told her, pointing it out to her, "I'll go and get the coffees."
When he joined her a moment later, she was sitting with her hands clasped on the table in front of her, looking up at him expectantly, biting her lip a little.
"There you go," he placed the coffee in front of her, "Let me get it for you," he told her ask she reached for her purse.
"Second date?" she asked him, raising her eyebrow at him a fraction.
"Something like it," he replied, smiling.
"Wish it could end like the first one," she told him ruefully.
His eyes widened a little, and she grinned.
They had woken up that morning still wrapped up in each other's bodies, her hair all over the place. He'd come slowly back to consciousness, his face buried in shoulder, softly kissing her skin, stroking her and her side without thinking about it. She groaned softly, waking up a little bit too. He planted kisses on her temple, on the crown of her head. Their bodies were warm together, their proximity starting to make him feel aroused again.
The light from the window caught his eye, and, squinting, he saw the alarm clock on her bedside table.
"Fuck, we're going to be so late."
"How've your lectures been this morning?" he asked her.
"I couldn't concentrate," she admitted, meeting his eyes.
He thought he felt his heart physically swell with pride.
"I wonder why that was," he pretended to muse, taking a drink.
She snorted softly with laughter, she was smiling too.
"I've been tired too," he told her a moment later.
She took a sip of her coffee, then let it clink softly back into the saucer.
"Come over again tonight," she told him, asking him softly, imploring him just a little, "Please."
"Don't get me wrong," he told her, "I want to."
"But what?" she asked him.
"But is moving another man lock stock and barrel into your marital home going to do your divorce case any good?"
She looked really taken aback for a second.
"Shit," she murmured, "I hadn't really thought about it."
Well now he felt like an unromantic little shit. The look on her face really disconcerted him, and he added swiftly:
"We could go to mine," he told her, "We could probably get away with that. I just don't want to cause you any more shit."
She perked up a little bit at that.
"You're not the one who's cause me shit," she told him, "You've been good as gold," he smiled a little bashfully at her knowing look, "I've never been to yours before," she reminded him.
Oh, shit, she hadn't. Well that was another can of worms right open there, but he didn't have time to worry about that now. All that mattered was that she was happy.
"We could get a takeaway," he suggested, "Open that bottle of wine. I have quite a few Joni Mitchell albums too."
She was smiling properly now.
"That sounds nice," she replied, "I'd like that a lot."
/
He didn't have time to race home and tidy up his place before she got there, because she took the tube with him.
"You know, you've apologised about once every five minutes for the state of your place since we got on this train?" she asked as they stepped off together onto the platform, "You'd better have a fucking infestation at the least, or I'm going to be severely underwhelmed."
He smiled ruefully.
"I don't have an infestation," he replied.
"Well, thank Christ for that, we'll probably be alright, then."
Maybe he had been overthinking it. If he hadn't had lectures in the afternoon, he'd have definitely gone home to tidy it up.
"It's just less-… than your place," he tried to explain.
"Less what?" she asked him.
"Just less, really," he replied.
"That's only to be expected," she pointed out carefully, "There were two of us paying into that place."
"Even so-…" He didn't think that disparity would quite cover the difference between her place and his but didn't know how to say it.
But she noticed the fleetingly expression of distress on his face.
"Joe," she told him softly, slipping her hand into his as they made their way up the steps of the Underground, "Whatever your place is like, I'm probably going to prefer it to mine. Because it's yours. Alright?" her fingers squeezed his gently.
He looked at her smile and tried to stop worrying.
"Alright," he replied quietly.
/
"What kind of takeaway do you fancy?" he asked, coming in from the kitchen, "I've got a comprehensive bibliography of menus here."
She laughed as she reached over the back of the sofa so he could hand them to her. It was still strange to see her here on his settee, her legs tucked up under her body- she looked more at home than he could have imagined, the dark of her clothes and her hair blending with the worn brown leather.
"Have you got that wine?" she asked him.
"Yeah, hang on," he told her.
"It hasn't been in the fridge," he called for the kitchen, finding it tucked away at the back of the work top, "I'll put it in now."
"Then we'll have to find a way to amuse ourselves while we're waiting."
The bottle bumped against the rack in the fridge as he shoved it in clumsily and allowed the door to close of its own accord.
/
Needless to say they soon forgot about the wine, and about what they wanted to order to eat. As they stumbled into his bedroom together the thought briefly crossed his mind that the last time he'd been in this room he'd never made love to her before. And now he was here with her, and his brain didn't have time to memorialise the experience before she was tugging his shirt over his head. He gasped softly as her hand rubbed over his chest, her palms brushing against his nipples and she smiled softly.
"I was right," she told him softly, "I do like your place. I really like it here."
"That's good," he murmured, pressing his mouth to hers, kissing her.
She groaned softly, her head tipping back as his kisses moved down towards her throat. He pressed her back towards the bed. Unfastening his belt, she tried to pull his trousers down at the same time, making him stumble.
"Shit, sorry-…" but he snorted with laughter, and she laughed too when she saw he didn't mind.
He took a second to sort himself out, taking his boxers off too, standing before her stark naked, her still fully clothed. He saw her eyes flicker down over his chest. Her lower lip caught for a moment between her teeth, and she looked so full of need. Her hand clasped around his length and his breath shuddered from between his lips. She planted a single kiss on his mouth, her other hand reaching to the small of his back, pulling him closer to her.
/
It was hours later when they went back downstairs.
"It's probably going to have to be pizza at this time," he told her, glancing at the clock on the radio as they both padded into the kitchen in the dark.
She fished the wine out of the fridge. She was wearing his shirt, and her hair was falling about all over the place. She looked very beautiful, the light from the fridge door pooling around her middle.
"I don't mind," she replied, closing the fridge door with a quiet pop, "In fact, I'm starving, get a big one. I don't really care what kind."
He smiled at her.
"Alright," he replied.
"Do you want some wine?" she asked him.
"Of course."
She grinned at him, continuing to smile, almost to herself as she went softly off to pursue the almost hopeless task of finding some wine glasses in his kitchen, in the dark.
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