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Chapter 18

"I thought that was you moaning, Malcolm," Ollie giggled while Malcolm reached for his trousers, too late to cover up the situation. They had been caught by the worst fucking person on the entire planet.

"Close the door," he bellowed, "Close the fucking door!"

Luckily for him Ollie did as he was told and Malcolm used the moment to fasten his belt before he launched at Ollie, shoving him against the wall and holding him by the throat with his arm.

"If you breathe a word of this to anyone," he hissed, "I will end you. And that is not an empty threat. I will fucking skin you alive with a spoon while everyone you love is watching."

"Malcolm," Clara's voice came from behind but he ignored her.

"Keep your fucking mouth shut or I-"

"Malcolm!"

Now Clara's hand was on his shoulder, softly pulling him away from Ollie who was instantly gasping for air. He glared down at her but found that Clara was immune to his gaze.

"Violence won't help you here," she warned him before turning towards the nosy prick, "Ollie, please, forget what you saw. Don't tell anyone, please. You wouldn't just get Malcolm in trouble but the entire party."

He had no idea what Ollie was going to do next, but he certainly hadn't expected him to start laughing.

"I won't tell a soul. But," he paused, sneering straight at Malcolm, "I won't forget. This image has been seared into my memory. It's there forever. And tonight when I go home I will hang my head over the toilet because of how disgusting that image is."

Malcolm still glared at him, waiting for him to finish. He was going to fucking kill Ollie at some point very soon.

"I will remember this forever, Malcolm, and so will you because now you owe me."

He scoffed. "I would rather cut your cock in tiny pieces with a chainsaw than owe you anything," he replied.

Ollie simply shrugged. "Banging your intern, Malc," he shook his head, "No, I'm afraid that's a pretty nasty secret to keep."

"Please, Ollie, be reasonable," Clara begged him and Malcolm had almost shouted at her to shut up. That was his problem and he could deal with Ollie on his own.

Ollie raised his hands in a surrendering gesture as he stepped backwards in the direction of the door. "I'm just saying that if I ever need a favour I hope you remember this moment. Because I certainly will," he reached for the door handle, "And you better hurry up. Interval should be over soon."

When the door closed behind Ollie, leaving Malcolm and Clara alone again, he kicked the wall with his foot in his rage.

"Fucking hell!" he cursed, "Of all the people it had to be that prick! Fuck!"

"Malcolm," Clara said gently, placing her hand on his arm, "It's no use. Let it go for now. Ollie will gloat, probably for a long time, but he's going to forget about it eventually."

"Oh, you don't know Ollie."

"Doesn't change the fact that he's probably right. Interval must be over soon. We should get back to our seats," she explained softly and unfortunately Malcolm had to agree. Even though the last thing he wanted right now was to listen to the fucking Opera for endless hours, they had to go back inside.

Clara felt terrible over what had happened and even though she knew in her heart that Malcolm and sheer bad luck were as much to blame for what had happened, she just couldn't help but feel guilty. If she had stopped Malcolm, if he had refused him, none of it would have happened. Clara knew that Ollie wouldn't say a thing because even though he was a prick, he was not stupid. He wouldn't put the entire party at risk just out of spite.

When they arrived at Malcolm's house her good mood and happiness about seeing Malcolm again had vanished entirely and she could tell that he felt the same thing.

"I'm sorry," she apologized quietly as she took off her coat and left it on the rack, "I feel as if this is all my fault."

"It's not," Malcolm told her, sighing. "It's really not. You tried to reason with me but I wouldn't listen."

Clara nodded slowly and looked up at him. He seemed so tired and troubled that she wished there was a way she could make him forget about what had happened with Ollie. "What do we do now?" she asked him.

Malcolm shrugged. "We go to bed," he concluded.

Again she nodded in reply.

"Come here," he said and spread his arms. At first Clara was unsure what it meant but as she stepped forward Malcolm closed his arms around her in a hug and in response she tightened her grip around his back as well. It felt strange somehow, foreign, but in a really good way. So far their physical contact had been limited to sex, but a hug was really, really nice as well and probably what they both needed the most at the moment. When they were interacting with the rest of the party Malcolm acted like an angry, Scottish robot, that was why Clara often forgot that in privacy he was all the more human and that was when she loved him the most. Malcolm bent down and kissed her softly on the lips.

"Let's go to sleep, okay?"

"Yeah," she breathed in reply.

When Clara woke up the next morning and felt the weight of Malcolm's arm around her she wanted so much to enjoy this moment of just lying next to him, but the memories of last night came back immediately. Something had to change, Clara knew that. If Ollie could catch them, so could someone else and that mustn't happen. She just couldn't say what. Maybe he would fire her as his intern, something Clara really didn't want. Or maybe they would stop sleeping together, but that was what she wanted even less.

Carefully Clara slipped out of Malcolm's embrace while he was still fast asleep and decided to leave him to his dreams for a while longer. He was probably still so exhausted after America and the eventful evening that he could do with a few more minutes while she prepared their breakfast.

Clara made an extra effort to set the table. Fresh coffee, tea, boiled eggs and she already stuck two slices into the toaster before she took a deep breath. Something had to change and the thought about that made Clara realize something: She wanted to stay with Malcolm. And she wanted to work for the government. How on earth could she ever have both?

Clara stepped outside to retrieve the newspaper and unfolded it on her way back when suddenly she stopped dead in her tracks and stared at the headline. The words were plain and simple and meant one thing. They were utterly screwed.