As soon as Faramir opened the door of the bar and peaked outside, he was accosted by a wave of anger - anger expressed in the broadest Suffolk dialect he had heard in a long time. Whoever was on the other side of that phone call, he pitied them, since Winnie was currently cleanly ripping their head off.
He really didn't want to listen, but as he leaned against the wall, he couldn't help but overhear certain sentences that were drifting towards him. Sure, he could have left, but he had a task to perform, and if anything, Faramir was very responsible. The topic of conversation was apparently expansion, money, and qualifications – but what exactly, he couldn't tell, not that it was his business anyway. What he noticed though was that the crisply delivered lines were biting, and certainly made to hurt - this wasn't just work, this was also personal. Faramir had imagined doing this so often, to tell his father (and sometimes Boromir) about his thoughts: That he felt left out, not appreciated, that he was working his ass off and he wanted a fucking raise and appropriate compensation for his job, that the working hours sucked... so many things. But somehow, he never did. The woman in front of him was certainly braver, she didn't seem to care about consequences.
Finally, she disconnected the call and for a moment, there was only quiet in the dark alley. Quiet aside from the dim sound of cars rushing by in the distance and the sound of a church bell somewhere nearer. It had gotten rather late, he mused. He kept watching Winnie, who was now visibly starting to shake. Part of it was likely due to the cold, but Faramir guessed that the major reason was the adrenaline still rushing through her veins. It must feel like a rollercoaster, he mused. He slowly stepped out of the shadow and towards her.
"Oh my goodness!," she exclaimed and almost jumped in surprise.
The dialect was still audible in her voice, but it was fading fast. Like a curtain that she was pulling close to protect herself. A pity, really.
"I'm sorry, I didn't want to startle you."
"Well, you were lurking in the dark!" she complained, obviously defensive.
Faramir just shrugged.
"Arwen was worried and sent me after you with your coat."
He held out the garment. With a huff, she took it, putting it on.
"Do you want to come back inside?"
Winnie bit her lip. It was distracting and made his eyes linger there for longer than they should have, he hoped she didn't notice.
"I think I need a minute. Thanks for bringing my coat though."
"Do you mind some company?"
Now she was the one shrugging.
"Knock yourself out."
In response he moved back again and leaned back against the house, putting space between the two of them. He hoped it looked casual and not totally ridiculous.
"What are you doing out here anyway? Aside from almost giving me a heart attack?"
"It's lovely inside, but I was getting a headache," he told her.
Faramir had the feeling she didn't quite believe him, truth be told, neither did he believe himself, but she didn't call him out. Now, she only seemed lost and very very small.
"I'm sorry," he told her truthfully.
She frowned and crossed her arms in front of her.
"I don't need you to pity me! Actually, I don't need any man to pity me at all!"
"And I don't. I'm still sorry though. Fights suck and you seem like a nice person who doesn't deserve it. Also, I think the way you just made your point was very impressive."
Faramir didn't add that he also found it very attractive, he had the feeling she wouldn't appreciate that at this moment. It was hard to tell in the poor light that was shining through the window, but he had the feeling she was blushing a bit, though her arms were still crossed in front of her chest.
"It seemed necessary," she murmured.
"I believe it."
He watched as she shuffled at bit from one foot to the other but still didn't move, instead only stared straight into the swirling white flakes that were still coming down around her.
"A white Christmas," the man mused.
"Doesn't really feel like Christmas to me. Silent night, peace on earth..."
"Who knows, maybe...there is still time..."
"Hopeful thinking?"
"Eternal optimism."
He sounded far more ironic than he had planned, and she certainly noticed it.
"You don't seem too convinced yourself. So, tell me, Mr Eternal Optimism, was the whiskey to celebrate? Or was it against frustration?"
There was a challenge in her voice, maybe because she was still annoyed at somebody completely else, but it amused him, nevertheless. She came a little bit closer, probably to get herself and her very pretty but certainly inappropriate shoes out of the falling snow.
"No, not today. Today the whiskey was because I like whiskey. What about you?"
A small smile.
"I think you already know. So, no frustration?"
"Always. Daddy issues, remember?"
She burrowed her head in her hands again.
"So so sorry. I didn't want to call you out."
Faramir didn't mention that the last sentence hardly made anything better. Instead, he returned her smile.
"Takes one to know one."
Now, she was looking straight at him, eyes wide.
"Not possible. He's dead."
For a moment, Faramir absolutely didn't know what to say, but then he saw the corner of her lip quirk up.
"You're messing with me!"
"No!"
Now she was truly laughing, almost hysterically. For the first time since he had met her, her expression was totally open again, unguarded.
"Oh my goodness!" Unfortunately, he had to laugh himself. "This is so awkward. Please tell me your mum's alive."
When she only shook her head, still laughing, he leaned his own head back against the wall. Emotions were coursing through him, a bitter, sweet, relieved, painful rush that made tears stream down his cheeks. He could feel she was leaning back next to him, shaking with mirth. As he turned his head towards her, Faramir could see there were tear tracks on her cheeks again, just like when he had first seen her, and without though, he brushed a last falling teardrop away with his thumb.
Winnie startled at the sudden touch, her lips opening slightly.
"Jesus Christ your fingers are bloody icicles!"
He pulled back his hand, mortified. What had he been thinking? However, before he could turn his head, he suddenly felt the back of her hand on his cheek, almost freezing against his skin. His eyes widened and he shivered at the cold touch. When his eyes found hers, she grinned. There was a charming devilish little smile playing on her lips and it made her glow brightly in the night, like a sun he felt drawn to. A sun with very cold fingers.
"Payback."
Despite the coldness, heat was spreading from where their bodies touched, flushing his body. Normally, this would have been his cue to pull away, to put distance between the two of them and thoroughly friendzone her, but her grey eyes held him captive. She had very pretty eyes, he mused, so expressive, almost stormy. So, when she moved to take away her hand, he caught it with his, leading it back to his cheek. Her hands were rather big for a woman, he found, or at least not as tiny as his cousin who could wear children's gloves if she wanted to. He had the vague feeling that there were callouses on her fingers, though this didn't really make sense for an office person. For a moment Winnie seemed startled by his action but then turned the palm of her hand towards his face. Her touch ghosted over the short stubble on his cheeks, more a shadow than a real connection, but it left a blazing trail in its wake. He pulled her closer with one hand on her waist, deeper into the shadow of the roof of the bar. Their noses almost collided and he could more feel than hear her huff - her breath was fanning over his lips, whiskey sweet. It made him want to kiss her, though, truth be told, he had wanted that for the last two hours minimum. Somehow Faramir had the feeling they were kind of on the same page here.
"Can I kiss you?"
He nevertheless still found it was polite to ask.
She nodded, a bit timidly maybe, but tilted up her head. Faramir kissed her gently, testing the waters with a close-lipped peck. Her lips were soft, almost hesitant, certainly chaste - and then she pulled back. He tried not to let his disappointment show as she kept looking at him, as if she was searching something in his face. Then, she seemed to come to a conclusion.
"I knew who you were before you introduced yourself. I looked up your company before. I thought you should know that to make ... uhm ... an informed decision," she rushed out.
The man was flabbergasted. That sort of statement was not what he had expected from a woman he had just planned to make out with in a rather shady alley.
"Alright. Then I hope you don't mind that there isn't much to find about me."
"Certainly not."
She didn't elaborate further, but still seemed torn. Faramir shrugged. He seemed to do a lot of this around her.
"I don't mind it." He knew he probably should, but after all, it wasn't as if she could have found any dirty secrets. He hoped. Additionally, she was honest about it, and anything Gondor Investments put online was literally fair game.
"Are you kissing me for my company?" he nevertheless asked.
Winnie laughed.
"No, rather despite."
"Will us kissing now get one of us into trouble?"
"Well, I don't know about that dad of yours! But personally, I don't kiss and tell!"
It appeared to him that her speech became a lot more flippant when she was unguarded, it was adorable, a small look at the woman behind the rather cold exterior. Someone rather funny and cheeky. And someone he very much wanted to kiss again.
"I think we're good then. But I will say, I have no idea who you are and right now, I don't exactly care," Faramir told her bluntly.
He only saw her relieved smile before she was close again, close enough so that he could get lost in the grey colour of her eyes and notice a couple of lonely freckles on the bridge of her nose. This time she leaned in, slanting her lips over his with much less hesitation than before. Winnie tasted like the whiskey she had drunk, sweet and spicy and warm, at the same time exciting and familiar. As soon as he kissed her back - what else was there to do - she wrapped both her arms around his neck, giving him excellent leverage to pull her closer until their chests were pressed together. In the back of his mind, he had the dim thought that they should kind of behave since they were standing outside in front of a bar in the middle of the night where someone could walk past any second, but these thoughts disappeared as soon as one of her still very very cold hands ended up in his hair. Winnie didn't pull, simply let her hand rest there, anchoring him to her. It felt good, grounding, safe, like nothing could go wrong.
Faramir slowly licked over her lips, and she opened them willingly. The taste of whiskey increased tenfold as their tongues tangled almost lazily, he felt as if he was drowning in her and floating at the same time. When they pulled back to breathe, Winnie's eyes were glassy, pupils dilated so much that the colour around them had almost disappeared. Her breath was coming in short, hard pants as she stayed close to him with one arm still around his neck and the other on his shoulder.
"That was certainly something," she muttered.
"Did you doubt my abilities?"
He raised an eyebrow.
She rolled her eyes good-naturedly.
"I didn't say that. You made that up."
The man laughed lowly and without hesitation he kissed her again, twisting them so she ended up sandwiched between him and the wall of the bar. Winnie didn't seem to mind as she pulled him closer by the back of his coat. There was something almost greedy about the way she held him now, and still both kept on one side of an unspoken line that they wouldn't cross, even though she was impatiently following his lips with hers. For a moment, he stopped to look down at her, the blond woman with the eyes closed and the chest heaving. Even then she looked so poised in her pantsuit, the high heels and coat, and it gave him the very irrational urge to wreck her, to make her unravel until he finally could look behind the preppy facade. The strength of feeling surprised and almost scared him, it was far from what he was used from himself.
"We should maybe go back inside," he offered, just to break this strange tension and to regain at least an ounce of control.
She opened her eyes, looking at him, really looking, perceiving, noticing. Faramir felt as if part of his own defences were being ripped away, he felt more exposed than he had in a long time. Then, she bit her lip.
"What if we just ... don't?"
His heart must have stopped, he was sure of it. What was she proposing - it couldn't be what he thought it was. Right?
"And what would you like to do instead?"
Now she was certainly blushing, which might also have to do with the fact that she was still pressed between him and the wall and he had subconsciously sneaked his hand into her open coat and started to draw circled on her right hip. He quickly stilled his hand.
"Go home?" she offered.
"But I am here with my brother."
She huffed.
"You are really not making this easy, are you? Your brother can take care of himself. You, me, my place."
"To do what?"
Now she was frowning.
"Are you oblivious or messing with me?"
He pushed a strand of hair behind her ear.
"Neither. But I hate insecurity about expectations."
Seriously, this wasn't a very sexy thing to say, but suddenly he found himself being kissed again with very much enthusiasm, more than the answer warranted, in his opinion. But he surely wouldn't complain. Besides, it was the truth – he hated not knowing what he was getting himself into. And going home with a stranger was the epitome of that. Scary and unpredictable and it would usually make him run for the hills.
"Alright," she began a couple of moments later, "I don't usually do this. Like, at all. So, I am open to suggestions."
"Like playing chess?"
"You play?"
Now she seemed even more delighted. Faramir laughed lowly, kissing her forehead. Maybe this wouldn't be so nerve-wrecking after all - maybe going home with her could be fun, actual fun without any second thoughts and a side-serve of internal screaming.
"Yeah, I do," he answered her question. "But, if we were to do that, and I don't mean the chess part, I've got a question - how much did you have to drink?"
She wrinkled her nose.
"I very much appreciate your concern, but I only had the one whiskey. The one before was a virgin something."
She slapped his arm as he had to grin at the statement.
"Not my fault they are called that! Get your mind out of the gutter!"
"And there I just thought that's where you wanted my mind to go!"
Before they could discuss minds, gutters, and plans for the night any further, the door of the bar opened, and a figure walked out. He quickly moved back out of Winnie's personal space and only relaxed slightly as he identified the person as Arwen. However, the woman didn't even bat an eyelash, totally unfazed by what her friend had obviously been doing out in front of the bar.
"Guys, I'm off. I really need to get home. My uber is waiting at the corner. And here -" she handed the other woman a bag, "is your stuff."
They gave each other a long look at spoke of years of silent communication. He had no clue what it was saying, but he was hoping it was something positive about him. Then Arwen turned towards him.
"It was a real pleasure to meet you, Faramir," she told him with a sincere smile.
"The pleasure was all mine," he answered sincerely.
"Get home safe!" Winnie told her, "tell your family, Aragorn and his mum all my best! And text when you get home."
"Will do, you too!" Arwen answered, before starting her way down the street.
"Your friend is enabling you and your escape!" Faramir commented with a look towards the bag.
"She seems to like you. She wouldn't do that if she didn't. Now, about my proposal -"
"Is the offer still standing?" he asked before he could think any further about it. Right now, he wanted this, and he certainly wanted her, not only for playing chess. Though, he was sure if they ended up doing that, it would be fun times as well.
The woman looked up at him.
"Yes, it does. Are you ready to go? My feet are bloody freezing."
"Ready if you are."
Arwen's help meant that Winnie wouldn't have to get her things from inside, and he himself could avoid Boromir's smirk and prying questions. Let his brother have a field day tomorrow, right now, he could simply disappear! His new companion seemed to think along the same lines, he saw her smile as she gingerly stepped into the snow, pulling him with her into the dark and into the direction of the main street.
