A/N: So this chapter is pretty OOC to be honest, but Grace and Oliver are my favourite couple to write at the moment and the setting is perfect for them and their time in history, I was just compelled to jot this idea down! It is inspired by two separate masterpieces, "Murder on the orient express" and Season 2 of "Bridgerton"!
There will be a part two of this in due course, and I might consider writing a follow-on or an alternative version of it on my "M" rated series as well. ;)
For now, I hope you'll enjoy this!
...
November 1928
Grace was helped up onto the train by Oliver who was already grousing about the long twenty-hour ride ahead. They had been in Chicago for only three days and the outbound journey had been tortuous. Now only 72 hours later, they had to endure it all again.
Oliver had wanted to fly, but Grace had argued that at least there would be a possibility of getting some sleep on the train. Oliver was quite aware that this was an excuse because Grace was terrified of flying. He also knew that Grace enjoyed the luxury and romanticism of the train, and this is mostly what made him decide to travel by the older mode of transport.
It didn't mean he wasn't going to grumble about it a bit though.
Their luggage was loaded on and was taken to their rooms by the attendants. Grace and Oliver sat down in the dining cart, Grace already had her notebook in hand. They had a lot to discuss from their short time at the Chicago factories.
Oliver had felt it prudent to have Grace come with him so that she could see the factories and meet the employees for herself at least once. It would be good for her to be able to envisage exactly what her boss was talking about when he spoke of them and their operations. The trip had been hectic and full of new information for Grace, but she had enjoyed being able to expand her knowledge of the company, and of course had felt very proud to be there at Mr. Warbucks' side.
By the time their dinner was brought around they had already been traveling for an hour and a half and Grace was still taking notes. They ate their soup, though Oliver was still prattling on about business. As their main course was served, he could see Grace slumping a little over her roast lamb and realized she must have been exhausted, and his jabbering most likely wasn't helping.
"Of course they'll have to reduce their stock in the new year…" he paused mid-sentence and looked at her sympathetically. "I am sorry, Grace. I've been chewing your ear for long enough. Let's finish our meal in peace."
"Oh, it's alright, Sir '', she waved her hand at him, though her eyes looked awfully heavy as she blinked. "It's important that we discuss everything while it's still fresh in our minds."
"Yes", Oliver nodded, picking up his glass of wine. "But if our minds themselves are not fresh then it's a rather fruitless discussion, wouldn't you say?"
Grace smiled tiredly. "I suppose you're right. In any case, I do have my notes for us to refer to later."
"Mm. I'm very glad I asked you to come along. I knew having you would be most helpful", he tilted his glass towards her and she picked up her own and clinked it gently against his. "I'm very pleased to have come", she told him genuinely.
They sat in companionable silence, each of them staring out the window as trees and hills swept by, the light fading quickly as night fell.
The sommelier brought them some ice cream followed by a nightcap which Grace opted out of. The other few passengers on the train began filtering out of the dining cart, retiring to their cabins.
"Right…", Oliver swallowed down his brandy and stood up from the table, extending his hand to Grace to help her up. "Let's see if we can actually get any sleep on this rickety old oil can."
She shook her head at him with a lazy smile and gave him her arm so he could help her to her feet.
"Don't you find it even a little bit charming?"
"Well, I suppose last time I rode one of these things I didn't have you with me, so your company has certainly made the journey significantly more charming than it would have been otherwise."
Grace blushed, ducking her head as they reached the door to her room. "I'm glad to be of service. Goodnight Sir", she chuckled bashfully.
Oliver relinquished her arm and bowed slightly to her before turning around and opening the door to the room next to hers. After turning back to her again and giving her a discrete wink, he stepped inside.
Grace smiled softly to herself. She'd been working for the man for almost a year and there had been so many moments like this, so many sweet comments and kind gestures.
She knew he didn't make them in order to be forward or presumptuous either, not like other men she'd known. To earn a compliment from Oliver Warbucks was quite a rare thing, and Grace knew he was genuine.
As she stepped inside her cabin, she was instantly hit with a blast of cool air. With a quick glance across the room, she could see why. The window in her cabin had been left open. She rushed across the small room, shivering as she reached up to pull it down. Only, it wouldn't budge.
Again and again she tried to lower it, using all of her strength but to no avail.
The late autumn air blowing in through her window was freezing. Her eyes began to sting, her face numbing as she stepped away from it in frustration, realizing she wasn't going to be able to close it herself.
She exited her cabin once more and went in search of someone who could help. The only attendant who was left on night duty was a rather small, not particularly strong looking older gentleman. Grace told him of her predicament and did give him the dignity of trying to help her close the window, but as she expected, he was also unable to.
"What in blazes is going on in here?"
Grace jumped at the sound of her boss's voice behind her.
"My apologies for disturbing you, Mr. Warbucks. Miss Farrell's window appears to be quite stuck. We've been trying to dislodge it but have so far been unsuccessful", the elderly attendant explained to him.
"Oh…", Oliver frowned. "Well here, let me try."
"Thank you Sir. I'm sorry to trouble you like this", Grace said meekly to him.
"It's no trouble", he assured her. "We can't have you freezing now can we?"
Oliver stepped forward and yanked down roughly on the window sash. He pulled and pulled, his face contorting with the effort. There was no way he was going to look like a weakling, especially in front of Grace.
He planted his foot firmly on the ground and tried again, his fingers aching from the effort. After several minutes, he was forced to admit defeat.
"I'm sorry, Grace. It's completely jammed."
"No matter, Sir. Thank you for trying."
"It does matter, you can't sleep in here. You'll catch your death", he frowned worriedly at her.
"I'll sleep in the dining cart. It's nice and warm there."
"That'll be awfully uncomfortable", Oliver protested.
Grace shrugged. "I'll make do."
"Are there no other cabins available?" Oliver asked the attendant who shook his head. "I'm afraid not, Sir. We're full up."
"Honestly, Mr. Warbucks, I'll be fine in the dining cart."
"Grace, we have a long journey ahead and I'm going to need you to be fresh and ready to work tomorrow when we reach home. It is imperative that you rest well tonight."
"I understand, but what other option do I have?"
Oliver cast an uncertain glance at her before replying. "Well…why don't you…I mean, you could just join me in my cabin."
Grace couldn't help the shocked laugh that fell out of her mouth. "I could not."
Oliver saw the attendant staring at him with an absolutely scandalized expression. "You may be dismissed, thank you", Oliver told him plainly to get lost.
The attendant gave them both a sideways look as he walked away from them.
Once he was out of earshot, Grace turned back to Oliver. "Sir, I appreciate your very courteous offer, but it would be entirely inappropriate."
Oliver blinked at her, feeling admonished. "I mean nothing untoward by it, Grace."
"No, I realize that, of course I do. Even so, it'll be terribly cramped won't it? And what's the point in both of us losing sleep? Better only I do, don't you think?"
"No I don't think", Oliver said emphatically. "What kind of gentleman would I be to let you suffer alone? At least this way I can say I've done my part."
Grace couldn't help but laugh at his reasoning.
"I really do insist you make up your mind. We're losing sleep as it is", he told her, though he had a slightly teasing smile on his face.
"Well…alright. I shall have to go and change into my nightgown first", she told him, still not feeling completely sure.
"I'll keep the light on", he said decisively and Grace smiled shyly at him which he didn't see as he'd already gone back into his room.
Grace's hands were trembling as she changed. She didn't know why she was so nervous. In the year she'd been working for him, Mr. Warbucks and she had grown quite close and often spent time together in near proximity, working under the same lamp late at night, where he was close enough that she had learned the scent of his aftershave by heart.
She shook her head at herself. She knew she should not be having such intimate thoughts about her boss. They were pointless and wrong. Those kinds of thoughts certainly had no place clouding her brain when she was about to spend the night sleeping next to him.
She glanced over at the bed in her own compartment and bit her lip. Judging by the width of it, the two of them would have to be quite close together to even fit, probably even touching. She blushed at the thought, even though she knew that he would be a perfect gentleman.
He had offered her a place next to him in his cabin not to get close to her, but simply out of decency and kindness and a need to have her in the best state possible to continue working the next day. It was a sensible solution to her predicament. There was no reason to bring emotion or feelings into it.
She donned a cardigan for the short walk to the neighboring cabin and knocked softly before entering.
"Come in Grace", she heard his dry response and she slid the door open softly.
She swallowed as she saw that he was already in the bed, with his back to her. She was thankful to him for allowing her that amount of dignity. Clearly, he wasn't even interested in looking at her in her nightwear. "Will you turn out the lamp before coming to bed, please?" He asked the wall and Grace whispered in reply, "Certainly."
She unwrapped her cardigan and placed it delicately on the armchair which his jacket was hanging off the back of.
Looking down at the bed, she could see that there was indeed only just enough room for her to lay on her side behind him. The bed was really not meant for two, even with her being as slight as she was.
Before she could talk herself out of doing so, she reached across the bedside cabinet and flicked the switch on the lamp, hurtling the small room into darkness. Carefully, she lifted the quilt up and very slowly lay down in the bed. Her knees bumped the back of his legs as she tried to adjust herself without disturbing him. "I'm sorry", she apologized quickly.
For several minutes, Grace attempted to position herself so that the least bit of her was touching the least bit of him, but she was well aware of how precariously close she was to the edge of the bed.
She heard Oliver sigh heavily. "Are you usually this restless?"
She froze and croaked, "No. But nor am I usually in bed with another person."
She was being bothersome, she knew. She also knew that he would understand and not be put out if she were to shuffle close enough to him that the front of her body made contact with the back of his, to ensure she felt secure enough not to fall out.
She did so and actually felt him exhale in relief. "Are you comfortable?" He asked her caringly but in his usual business-like tone.
"Yes, thank you", she murmured softly, being that her mouth was so close to his ear.
They were sharing the same pillow. Grace didn't think she'd shared a pillow with anyone since she was a young child. The thought brought a small smile to her face, thinking how very innocent it was. She felt truly touched that he would allow her to do this - insist on it, in fact. He was an exemplary boss, and a very kind man.
They must have come to a bend in the track because suddenly the train was lurching to the side and Grace could feel herself slipping back. Just as she felt herself teetering on the edge of the bed, she reached forward and took hold of Oliver's arm at the same time he reached back for her. She held on tightly to him until they had rounded the bend and the carriage had straightened back up again.
Both were breathing raggedly at the effort of holding on and at the surprise of the force of the turn. "Grace, are you alright?" Oliver panted, sounding concerned.
"I-I-I'm fine", she stammered, the touch of his hand on her lower back burning her skin through her sheer nightgown.
"Uh-um, perhaps I'd better turn over so I can keep hold of you, lest you roll onto the floor."
After considering his suggestion for a moment, she tentatively agreed. "Yes, alright."
After some awkwardness and a quite a bit of effort to not crush Grace, Oliver managed to turn so that he was facing her.
She wrapped her hand securely around his arm, holding onto him for dear life, afraid of toppling off the narrow bed should the train make another sharp turn. He also conscientiously put his arm around her and held her lower back firmly.
Both of them were grateful for the noise of the train as their hearts were thumping so loudly in their chests, they were both equally afraid of giving themselves away.
"Now do you agree that air travel would have been much more preferable?" Oliver voiced, breaking the ice for a moment and making Grace laugh softly in surprise. "Yes, I must agree, this voyage has been decidedly unimpressive thus far. Next time we'll fly."
"Hmm", Oliver hummed, already anticipating having to hold his nervous secretary's hand as they soared through the air. He reached down and found that very hand tucked in between them and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Try and get some sleep. I won't let you fall, you can rest assured."
"I know '', she whispered gratefully. "Thank you, Sir." She relaxed against him, starting to feel much less nervous about her body making contact with his.
The clacking of the train on the track might have been soothing for some, but lying there in each others' arms, neither Grace nor Oliver could settle, nor did they want to miss a moment of being held by another person. It was such a rare and precious thing for them both.
Grace had closed her eyes and was listening to Oliver's gentle breathing, as well as the sound of the train. What had earlier been scary was now peaceful and she felt quite calm, almost serene.
Oliver was feeling a mixture of fear and exultation. He was elated to have Grace here in his arms. He had come to adore his secretary, not that he would ever be bold enough to tell her, of course.
His fear was only derived from the thought of not being able to control his physical and emotional reaction to her being so near to him.
Grace's eyes flicked open, as if she could hear his thoughts and when her gaze met his bright blue eyes shining right back at her, she gasped softly. Their vision had adjusted somewhat to the lack of light and they could just make out the shape of one another's features.
The rattle of the train caused them to inadvertently shuffle even closer together, pushing them both to the wall as the carriage juddered along the track.
Each of them realized how close they really were to each other by the feeling of warm breath dancing across one another's faces.
It was Grace who tilted her head forward almost imperceptibly, shuddering when she felt the tip of her nose bump his. However, it was then Oliver who inched forward just slightly more and placed his lips very faintly to hers, almost so faintly that Grace was not certain she hadn't imagined it. When he kissed her softly for the second time, Grace felt her heart swell with devotion. Her lips trembled as she returned the affectionate gesture softly.
Slowly and tenderly, their mouths met again and again, never escalating to anything more than the barest meeting of lips, until eventually, Oliver tilted his head and kissed her softly on her brow, allowing her to tuck her head underneath his chin. She felt quite dizzy with infatuation as she lay her head against his chest.
She could feel his heart hammering against her ear. Her warm hand stroked his arm comfortingly and his heart rate began to steady with her gentle touch, until the two of them, nestled in each other's arms, gave in to sleep.