I decided that seeing as there were no stories for any new characters apart from Jess (and they were nearly all Jecker stories), that I'd write this. I'd had the plot bunny while watching the episode for the third time, and I think Memily could be a pairing that work well together. Unfortunately, someone beat me to it, and I've been relegated to second place once again :L
This is my first M-rated fiction, so I really hope it's OK and you like it. Kizza is a RIOT challenged me to write this and make it become an M-rate instead of just a T. If you don't like M's, then don't read the last section. You have been warned, so no flames please!
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot bunnies :)
Barefooted, she crossed the room, trying not to wake Matt. It was no good, as his eyes were already open, looking out of a window.
"Leaving so soon?" he said quietly.
Stopping, Emily turned to look at him and sighed.
He sat up. "Guess we still have some work to do on this whole trust issue."
"I have to find Ethan."
"Well, I'm gonna get out of bed now, so you might wanna avert you eyes."
She sighed again, but turned anyway. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him stand and pull on some underwear. She smiled slightly.
"Nice view from here," she commented, smirking as he agreed, having no idea what she truly meant.
As he pulled on a top, she turned back.
"So were you going to walk round the city until you bumped into this Ethan character?" he asked. "There are eight million people out there. Good luck." He walked round the counter. "Or I could make us a cup of coffee and we could have a chat." He stopped and glanced over at her. "My shirt looks good on you by the way."
Her stomach flipped at the compliment, though she couldn't understand why. She barely knew him, after all.
"It was all I could find," she told him, managing to still look serious instead of smiling or flirting.
"Yeah, sorry about that. All my skirts are in the wash."
She gave in and smiled.
"Was that an attempt at humour?"
"Well, I've had bigger laughs, but yeah."
Walker forward, she leant on the counter. "I prefer tea."
She watched him, smiling fondly, as he moved round, making their brews. Once he'd finished, he put them down on a small table and sat on the sofa.
"You know, you are allowed to join me," he commented a couple of minutes later, when she had stayed standing by the counter.
Walking over, she sat back and swung her legs up next to her.
"Not a very lady-like position."
"No, but far more comfortable."
They relaxed into silence again. It seemed natural, not at all awkward. Both stared out of separate windows and thought.
Little did they know how similar their thoughts were.
Matt couldn't help his thoughts from moving towards her. She was beautiful, and his eyes traced the curves that showed through his shirt. He imagined sliding it down her arms and...
'No!' he thought. 'I can't do that. I can't even think that. She's from the past. I could affect history. Get sacked. Be killed by Becker. All generally not good things.'
"Do you want to go out tonight?" he asked suddenly.
"Out? You mean, to the theatre or something like that?"
"Well, I was thinking the local, but if you'd rather we went somewhere posher..." He grinned at her, making her laugh.
"Why not," she replied, smiling back. "I'd love to."
Just then, the phone rang.
'Just as things were going well,' she thought in dismay, as Matt pulled his mobile out of his pocket.
Pushing closed the door, Matt leant against it and sighed. Between the sheer number of creatures, the death of a child and almost losing Becker, it had been one hell of a day, and he wanted nothing more than to collapse into bed and sleep.
Entering the flat properly, he was stopped suddenly at the sight of Emily. She was sat on the sofa, legs crossed, wearing a pale pink dress. It was a halter neck, chiffon-layered, that floated to about mid-thigh. Tightened around the waist but otherwise loose, it showed off her curves.
"You look nice," he commented, ignoring the voice in his head that was yelling at him, saying 'Nice! Nice! All the adjectives in the world and you have to choose nice! Why not beautiful, or stunning, or drop-dead gorgeous? If you want to sleep with this girl, you got to make her feel special! Tell her that she looks amazing! Not bloody nice!' He was quite used to ignoring this voice, as he'd learnt at quite a young age that listening to it got him into trouble.
"It's not a colour I'd normally choose, but the dress was just so pretty," she admitted, before asked, "So where are we going?"
That was when he remembered.
"Oh shit," he breathed. "I'm taking you out."
"Well, that was the plan," she said, looking worried, then disbelieving. "Wait a minute. Are you saying you forgot?"
"It's been a long day," he replied, walking through the apartment. "I'll tell you all about it later, just let me get changed."
As he disappeared, Emily shook her head. She might like him, but no way did she understand him. The girl at the shop had assured her that no man would be able to resist her in the dress when she had expressed her doubts over it. Yet he had said that she just looked nice. He'd almost said more over her in his shirt that morning. It seemed clear to her that he didn't feel the same, so why was she still so nervous about tonight? It was just a drink between friends, not a date. Nothing would happen.
"Ready?" he spoke from behind her. Jumping, she span round and almost fell over.
"Guessing you're not used to the heels," he said with a half-smile. "Come one, before they decide they're all shutting."
Pulling her coat on, she took the arm he offered.
She stared round the pub. Before she'd left home, she'd heard of pubs and taverns but, being a Lady, she'd never entered one. After joining the others, there had been nowhere like this.
Matt had sat them at a table in a corner, next to a crackling log fire. There was small tea lights on each table, and the walls were covered in pictures and curios. The pub was full of noise and people. There was a green table at the other side of the room, where two men were taking it in turns to hit coloured balls with sticks, a round board on the wall near it, with men throwing darts at it. Along one long wall was the bar, all the stools full. Matt was standing there, getting them drinks. She watched him, glad he was facing away and couldn't see her ogling him. He'd dressed in a clean pair of jeans and an olive-green shirt, his black leather jacket slung on the chair next to her. She felt self-conscious in her dress, as everyone else there was less formally dressed.
She jumped again. He'd got from the bar back to their table without her even noticing him move and, once again, had managed to surprise her. It was becoming quite a habit.
"You look fine. No-one thinks you're dressed wrong apart from you. In fact, you've got the men eyeing you up. I was starting to wonder if I should get jealous."
Her hopes started to rise, then were dashed as she realised he was joking. Ignoring it, she asked quickly, "what's that table over there? With the balls?"
He glanced round.
"That's pool," he told her. "Bit like snooker, only different balls and rules." He considered something. "I'll teach you to play one day, if you want," he offered. "Might be best if it wasn't tonight though." He looked down at her skirt. "Not really the best thing to wear for bending over tables."
He passed her drink over. "I got you a beer. Is that OK?"
"I can drink beer," she said, raising one eyebrow. "And I even like it."
He sat down opposite her, and took a drink from his own glass.
"So, this group you travel with..."
As the evening progressed, their table slowly filled up with glasses as they became steadily more and more drunk. The topic had shifted several times, landing now on their past life.
"So you're married?" he asked incredulously. She nodded. "I thought you'd be the kinda person who wouldn't trust someone enough to marry them. What's your husband like?"
"Boring," she groaned. "He was part of the reason I left. He expected me to be a proper lady; to run the household and spend my time shopping or reading or sowing, etc. I simply had to run away before it became too unbearable."
"But surely you're only married in that time," he started. "I mean, in the past he hasn't even been born, and you can't be married to someone who doesn't exist. And now, technically, he's dead, so the marriage no longer exists in this time. You're a widow."
She considered this.
"I guess so. In that case, I'm free to find myself a man." She smirked at him and he felt his heart quicken.
"Do you want another drink?" he asked, hearing the barman shout last orders.
"No," she replied, looking over into his eyes. "Let's go home."
This time his breath caught momentarily. 'Did she mean...?' However much he told himself it was wrong, he hoped with all his heart she did. 'It's not a date,' he reminded himself. 'Just a friendly drink between friends.' Though she had dressed up...
Searching through all his pockets, Matt swore. This wasn't the first time he'd lost his keys after a good night out, but it had been a while since he'd been in the situation with a girl there.
"Looking for these?"
Emily dangled the keys in front of his face, one eyebrow raised.
"Thank you," he said, taking them off her. Before she could move her hand, however, he had grabbed it and pressed a light kiss against the palm.
"Very gentleman-like," she smiled.
The door jammed. Swearing under his breath, Matt shoulder-charged it, and ended up flying through and landing on the floor heavily. Hurrying over, Emily tried, and failed, not to laugh as she helped him up.
"Are you ok?" she asked.
He held a hand up to his hand.
"I sure could do with a drink after that."
Standing, he went to the counter and pulled out a bottle and two glasses.
"Go make yourself comfy, I'll be through in a minute," he told her. Putting everything on a tray, he carried it over to the sofa. "Your drink, mi'lady," he said, handing it over. Her laugh carried through the flat as she took it. He sat down next to her.
Two hours later, they were still talking and laughing. Glancing at the clock, Matt realised that he was meant to be at work in less than six hours.
"I'd best be getting some sleep. I don't want to be the one getting killed by a creature." Standing, he smiled down at her. "Goodnight."
"Wait a minute," she said quickly, making him stop walking away. She stood and tried walking towards him.
Clearly pissed, she stumbled and fell instead. He caught her.
Realising her face was against his chest, she blushed and tried to pull away, but his hands circled her arms and pulled her up. Bending down, he gave in and kissed her sweetly. She couldn't believe it. After a night of torture she was finally in heaven.
Running her hands up his chest, she moved them round his neck and into his hair, pulling his closer. His tongue touched her lips, begging access that she willingly gave. The kiss became heavier, more passionate. His hands lifted her up and she wrapped her legs round him.
Breaking away for air, they stared at each other silently, breathing deeply. Then, as one, they leant forward to restart it.
He lowered her back to her feet and she moved her hands to start undoing his shirt. Unfastening the last button, she slipped her hands inside and traced the contours of his chest. Without stopping the kiss, he shrugged off the shirt and started unfastening the tie at the back of her dress. Her hands went down to his belt, slowly pulling it off. Her dress fell around her ankles as the tie finally yielded. Pulling away, he gazed at her.
"Did I tell you how beautiful you look?" he whispered.
"Something about looking nice," she teased.
Taking her hand, he set off across the flat until he reached his bed. Kissing her lips, he moved to her chin, then neck, before reaching her chest. Swiftly undoing her bra, he took one of her hardened nipples in his mouth and sucked on it, causing her to moan with pleasure. She practically ripped his trousers she was in such a hurry to get rid of them. Falling backwards, she landed on the bed with him on top of her. She wriggled out of her knickers as he pulled off his boxers.
Positioning himself carefully, he pushed inside her, hearing her gasp. He paused, allowing them both to adjust to this, before starting to thrust. She wrapped both legs around his waist, pulling him further inside. Her hips moved upwards, clashing with his as his moved down. He kissed her hard, tongues exploring each others mouths.
She felt the orgasm sweep through her body, sending her to paradise as she cried his name. He came moments later, clutching her closer as he shouted, "Emily". Pulling out slowly, he collapsed besides her. Hugging her close, he kissed her and murmured, "I reckon I love you," before falling asleep.
Her breath tickled his ear as she whispered back, "I love you too." Closing her eyes, she was soon dead to the world.
Waking slowly, Emily was confused as to why there was a heavy weight resting on her stomach. Opening her eyes, she found herself staring at the ceiling. She turned her head slowly to the left, and saw Matt lying there, face down in the pillow, snoring away, with his left arm flung over her, almost protectively. Even though the sun was up and she knew he had to be somewhere else, she left him. She felt blissfully happy, like there were no worries in the world, for she knew Matt would protect her.
She even forgot about Ethan.
Rolling over, she slipped her arm over him and was soon fast asleep once again.
Please review and tell me what you think, also, reviews will make me very happy :):)
On my profile there is a link to Emily's dress. The only difference is that Emily's was pale pink.