ma3 Its Just You

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/283997. Rating: Archive Warning: Category: Fandom: Relationship: Character: Stats:

Mature No Archive Warnings Apply F/M Doctor Who RPF Alex Kingston/Matt Smith Alex Kingston, Matt Smith, Arthur Darvill, Karen Gillan, Daisy Lowe Published: 2011-11-26 Completed: 2012-03-13 Chapters: 34/34 Words: 95634

It's Just You by BrinneyFriday Summary

Alex Kingston has to be one of the biggest flirts that Matt Smith has ever had the chance of working with.

Notes

A/N: This is a collaborated effort with my best gal Britney. It’s something we’ve been working on for months and we're just about finished with it now. Some details aren't quite accurate because of how long ago we started this, like the cast living in a building together during filming -- something that has just recently come to light. Disclaimer: Obviously, this is a work of fiction. We know nothing about the actual lives of Matt Smith and Alex Kingston, except for what we learned in the occasional Google search.

Prologue Flirt [flurt] -verb (used without object) 1. to act amorously without serious intentions -noun 2. person who flirts -Related forms flir - ta - tious : adjective flirt - ing- ly : adverb flir - ta - tion : noun

Alex Kingston has to be one of the biggest flirts that Matt Smith has ever had the chance of working with. It's merely an obvious observation and she does it with such an unashamed comfortableness that he feels himself reacting in turn.

It's a natural thing for the actors on the set of Doctor Who to flirt with each other. Karen flirts with Matt, Matt flirts with Karen, Karen flirts with Arthur, Matt flirts with Arthur, etc. So naturally, when Alex first showed up for the read through of 'Time of Angels,' Matt had turned on his charm, sitting next to her and joking with her. He even went as far as to suggest her landing on top of him in the first scene they had together.

If he'd known then what he knows now...Nah, he wouldn't change anything.

Words are poisoned darts of pleasure Chapter Notes

A/N - Previous chapter written by Brinney and this chapter written by Friday. Chapter title taken from the Franz Ferdinand song Darts of Pleasure. Also, for some reason, the rich text editor isn't work on this chapter like it was in the prologue, so sorry about that. Hopefully it's a problem that will clear up soon.

She’s sitting so close. Close enough that, if he just leaned in a fraction, his arm would be brushing against hers. He can smell the dizzying combination of the scent of her shampoo and her perfume. It’s not abrasive, like most women he’s been around. Sometimes he nearly gags when Daisy leans in too close – her cloying perfume applied a little too liberally. But hers isn’t like that. It’s just enough to tantalize – this lovely, floral fragrance that makes him want to bury his face in her glorious hair. Matt tightens his grip on his script to keep himself from doing just that. He blinks, forcing himself to focus on the page in front of him rather than the distracting woman sitting so near. Amy and Rory are reconciling after the battle with the Silence, and Matt’s heart turns over in his chest. The Stormcage scene is coming up and the subsequent kiss, and though he won’t have to do it now, he’ll have to once they’re on set. Last season, on his first day of filming, Alex Kingston had been there, looking lovely in a black ball gown and ever since she first threw herself into his arms and sent them both toppling to the floor of the Tardis, he’s had a bit of a schoolboy crush on her. In that, ‘older woman-ultimate fantasy-never going to happen’ sort of way. When he first read the script for Day of the Moon and realized he was going to have to kiss her, he hasn’t been able to be in the same room with Alex without staring at her mouth. She sits next to him now, and he’s hyper aware of every single move she makes. Right now, her eyes are intent on the script in front of her, curls falling into her eyes, mouth pursed, and Matt licks his lips. As if sensing his gaze on her, Alex’s eyes slide in his direction and Matt glances away quickly, heart pounding. Forcing himself to keep his eyes on his script, he grits his teeth. This is getting ridiculous. It isn’t a long kiss, and he’s supposed to be horribly awkward for most of it anyway. He doesn’t understand why he can’t seem to get it out of his mind. This is hardly going to be his first onscreen kiss, and yet he’s acting like a nervous freshman scared to death that his date might try to cop a feel. “You could come with us,” he says, coming back to himself just in time to speak his lines. Next to him, Alex speaks, voice low and amused. Matt is so lost in his thoughts that when her hand accidentally brushes against his, he is so startled that he jumps in his seat, his script flying out his hands even as warmth floods through him from the top of his head to his toes.

Around the table, everyone laughs as he feels his face heat up in embarrassment. Next to him, Arthur makes a comment about his usual clumsiness and Matt has never been so grateful to be so ungainly. No one thinks twice when he has a spastic fit in the middle of a read-through – it’s just Matt being Matt. “Very graceful, Doctor,” Karen remarks from next to Arthur, peering around him to grin at Matt. “Shut up, Kaz,” he sticks out his tongue at her. Not the best comeback but he’s still flustered and blushing as everyone turns back to their scripts. He risks a glance in Alex’s direction only to find her watching him with curious amusement. His eyes meet hers as Steven talks for a moment about a small change in the writing four pages back, and as everyone around them makes a note of the new dialogue, Alex smiles apologetically and winks at him. Matt swallows thickly as she turns back to her script, picking up her pen. Her voice is so quiet that he has to strain to hear her as she begins to scribble. “Relax, darling, I don’t bite.” Barely managing not to choke on his tongue, Matt snipes back in an effort to sound like himself – playful and teasing, not utterly humiliated and turned on. “Maybe I like biting.” When Alex doesn’t look at him but smiles down at her script, Matt knows that he is so very screwed. XxX That night, they wrap things up a little earlier than expected and the crew plans an impromptu outing to a pub a few minutes away to celebrate a good day’s work – really, they’ll do anything to have an excuse to drink. Matt calls Daisy to tell her he’ll be late coming home and she insists on meeting him at the pub rather than waiting for him. As much as Matt cares for Daisy, he hangs up the phone a little disappointed – when she’s around, he doesn’t get to spend the time he would like with his friends. Instead of laughing and drinking with Arthur, Karen, and the crew, he’ll end up trying to make sure Daisy doesn’t get bored. He slips his phone into his jacket pocket and turns to look for Karen and Arthur, only to find them talking to Alex by the door. She usually skips out on their pub nights, and he can tell that everyone is trying to change her mind again. Smiling as she slides her arms into her coat, Alex laughs and shakes her head. Matt watches as Karen stamps her foot petulantly, her face the picture of pleading. He makes his way over to them and when he’s within hearing distance, Arthur turns to him, gesturing him closer. “Mate, tell her she needs a break like everyone else.” Matt reaches them and looks to Alex, brows raised. She rolls her eyes. “I need to get back to the hotel – Salome hasn’t seen me since this afternoon.” Nodding in understanding, Matt shrugs his shoulders and glances at his watch. “Well, it’s almost eleven. Even if you leave now, she won’t see you until she wakes up in the morning.” He winks at her. “C’mon Kingston, come have a pint with us. Then if you’re still feeling like a rubbish mother, I’ll drive you to your hotel myself.” He manages to keep his face relatively neutral, if a little teasing but the thought of being alone in a car with her isn’t an unappealing one, nor is the thought of spending time with her in the pub.

Alex hesitates for a moment, glancing between Matt’s encouraging eyes and Karen’s pleading expression. She sighs and runs a hand through her curls. “Alright. One pint. One.” Karen beams and takes a hold of Alex’s arm, leading her away and already chattering a mile a minute. Matt watches them go with a fond smile, and then turns to Arthur, ruffling his hair obnoxiously and dragging him outside by the neck. XxX In the pub, Arthur and Mark are having a dart competition while Karen and Beth hold up signs with bogus scores on them like negative 0 and 3 billion – Arthur gets an extra million points every time he misses and hits Steven in the back rather than the dartboard. Matt sits slouched in a booth with Daisy, nursing a pint while she texts on her phone, leaning into his arm and not paying the slightest bit of attention to her surroundings. Matt sighs and takes a large gulp, drumming his fingers on the table to the beat of the Franz Ferdinand song playing in the background. Eyes darting around the room, knowing who he is searching for even if he doesn’t want to admit it to himself, he finally stops when he spots a head of wild blonde curls sitting at the bar, hands wrapped around a pint as she watches Mark try to throw a dart toward the board with his eyes shut. She breaks into delighted laughter when the dart ends up in Steven’s drink and Matt can’t help but notice the way her face lights up when she smiles like that. Daisy elbows him gently and Matt hurriedly looks away, glancing down at his girlfriend. “Hmm?” He asks absently. She smiles up at him, phone still open in her hand. “What are you looking so happy about?” “Erm,” Matt fumbles for an excuse and ends up shrugging. “Just watching Arthur slaughter Mark in darts.” Daisy laughs, and even as she responds, her eyes are back on her phone. “Mark’s even more hopeless than I am– he only won when he played me because he cheated.” Matt makes a sound of agreement, eyes already turning back to the bar and narrowing in annoyance at what he finds there. A man who looks to be in his late forties is standing next to Alex, elbow on the bar as he speaks to her, smiling charmingly. Alex laughs politely at whatever he says, sipping her drink and nodding. Fingers flexing around his glass, he stares at the man with a frown, wondering if he can feel Matt staring a hole through the side of his head. It’s not the guy, really. It’s just that one can’t be too careful nowadays. The man is a stranger, and Matt just wants to make sure he isn’t some sort of creep who likes to dispose of corpses in dumpsters in back alleys. Or, y’know, touch women inappropriately. Or at all. The man – cropped hair, black t-shirt and jeans – looks like a normal, everyday pub guy but looks can be deceiving. Pub Guy leans in a little closer, and Matt looks intently for signs that his attention is unwanted, but Alex seems entirely receptive to him. She smiles up at him – all teeth and curls and rounded, rosy cheeks – and Matt can do nothing but stare. Pub Guy reaches out a hand and tugs lightly on one of Alex’s curls, smiling as it bounces back into place, and Matt feels a growl make its way up his throat. Thankfully, over the loud pub music, no one hears it.

Who does he think he is, just reaching out and touching someone’s hair? Especially Alex’s hair – it’s too magnificent to be handled with such carelessness. Who knows where his hands have been! Pub Guy asks a question, if the furrow in his brow is any indication, and Matt watches as Alex shakes her head, her smile a little less bright. Pub Guy persists, and Alex looks apologetic but shakes her head again. Matt tenses in his seat, ready to jump up and step in, if need be. ‘Walk away, prick’ he thinks, watching Pub Guy with renewed intensity. ‘Walk away now.’ Suddenly, as if hearing Matt’s silent command, Pub Guy raises his hands up in defeat with a small smile. He walks away, without Alex’s contact information, it seems, and Matt feels his whiteknuckled grip on his glass ease as he wills himself to relax. Glancing down at his sore hand and finally unclenching his jaw – when had that happened? – Matt realizes that he is so very, very screwed.

You touch me once and it's really something Chapter Notes

For this chapter, Brinney wrote from Matt's point of view and Friday wrote from Alex's. Chapter title from Taylor Swift's Sparks Fly.

The first time he kisses her, they're being watched. There are crewmembers and actors standing around, directors telling them what to do, where to stand. Alex is listening intently, nodding at everything anyone has to say, and he's trying to do the same. He will not admit that he's truly nervous. No, he'll just play it off as acting. "And, action!" "Oh, shut up," she recites, and then her tongue is against his lips. He opens obediently, following her lead. His hands are fumbling and he knows this is what he was told to do. 'Be awkward, flail your arms about, you know.’ The words have been ingrained in his memory since he got the script. 'Relax, darling, I don’t bite,' he remembers her saying at the read-through. But she's actually kissing him. The Alex Kingston is kissing him and her tongue is doing this rolling thing in his mouth and he's not sure if he's living up to all her previous kisses. He hopes so, though he won't admit it. Alex pulls back, still in character, and looks at him confusedly. "What's wrong? You're acting like we've never done that before." "We haven't," he says, and the truth of the words rings in his head. "We haven't." "Cut!" He doesn't know why he's so relieved, but she laughs and he laughs along with her. "Five minutes, then one more time!" Alex links her arm through his and he guides her off the set. "Something the matter, love?" She asks, eyes alight with amusement. He shakes his head, a smile on his lips. "Miss Kingston, you sure know how to kiss," he jokes. Though not really, because wow. Where had she learned that trick with her tongue? He's going to have to try it later, when he's alone. "And you, Mr. Smith, are quite the kisser yourself." He wonders if she's merely being polite, because he cannot seriously be that great, not in comparison to her.

XxX For her, it’s different. She notices how attractive he is right off, of course. He isn’t conventionally handsome – in fact, he’s almost otherworldly in a lovely sort of way. He’s so young and eager that at first, she feels almost protective of him, trying to fill David Tennant’s shoes and looking adorably nervous doing so. The second thing she notices is that he’s a terrible flirt, and she enjoys his attention far too much. It doesn’t mean anything, considering how friendly the entire Doctor Who cast is with one another, but for some reason, when Matt looks at her with that little half grin and hooded eyes, she feels heat pool in her stomach. She always walks away feeling a little breathless. Funnily enough, it doesn’t happen when Arthur smiles at her, or when one of the cameramen winks at her. Only with Matt. The first time they kiss, it’s on set and she’s too worried about getting the shot right to be nervous. Alex doesn’t really think about it much until it’s actually happening. When she pulls Matt’s mouth to hers and opens under him to caress his tongue with hers, she suddenly feels liquid heat rushing through her veins and she has to stop herself from letting out a little moan as she wraps her arms around his waist. She’d told him during the read-through that she wouldn’t bite, mostly just to tease him for looking so anxious. But now she actually finds herself holding back in case she scares him off – the poor boy probably doesn’t want a woman old enough to be his mother sinking her teeth into his bottom lip, no matter how he flirts. When the director calls for a break and Matt escorts her off set, her lips are still tingling. XxX Salome is a brilliant little girl, Matt thinks, and such a spitting image of her mother. He sits patiently in his living room waiting for the call he knows is coming. It doesn’t take long -- Alex is nothing but punctual. “Hello there, Miss Kingston!” He greets quietly, though enthusiastically. “How are you this… Well, right now?” He listens to her chuckle, and even over the phone, it’s beautiful. He screws his eyes shut. Not the thoughts to be having with your sleeping girlfriend in the next room over. “Good morning, Mr. Smith,” she greets and she sounds refreshed. He likes it when she sounds like that. It fits her. “I’m doing swell. You know you really don’t have to do this for me, right?” “You say that every time, and every time, I will say, ‘Of course I know, but I love to,’” he answers quickly, voice still quiet. She sighs and he smiles into his dark living room. “Alright, one second.” There’s a bit of shuffling and muffled talking, silence, and then, “Matty!” “Good mornin‘, precious,” Matt says with his best southern accent. He listens to Salome giggle in

his ear, warmth filling his chest. “Guess what Mama and I are gunna do today!” “I don’t think I could. You two surprise me every time.” “We’re going to paint pictures of the backyard with the new paint kit you got me. I wish you were here to help!” The young girl exclaims in his ear and he has to pull the phone away to prevent permanent damage. His grin never leaves his face. “I wish I could be there too, poppet,” Matt sighs, running a hand through his hair. As the conversation continues on, Matt rubs at the ache filling his chest. Suddenly, his home doesn’t feel like home. XxX While Alex dials the number she now knows by heart, Salome stands next to her, hopping about in her pajamas as she waits impatiently. She isn’t quite sure how they got into this habit of phoning Matt in the morning but Salome now insists on talking to him before his day ends and hers begins. Matt indulges her whims far too often and Alex can’t help but feel like they must be bothering him by now. When he answers, he sounds happy to hear from her but she has to say it anyway, just like she does every time. “You know you really don’t have to do this for me, right?” Matt’s voice is quiet but sincere as he answers just like he does every time she asks, “Of course I know, but I love to.” Sighing a little, she relents. “Alright, one second.” She covers the mouthpiece with her hand and beckons an eager Salome over to her. “Don’t keep him too long, love. He’s probably tired.” Salome nods quickly and grabs for the phone, exclaiming, “Matty!” Alex smiles, watching her daughter giggle at whatever Matt’s response had been. She wipes down the kitchen counter, sticky with syrup from Salome’s breakfast, and listens intently to her child’s side of the conversation. She tells him about their plan to spend the afternoon outside with the paint set Matt had bought her, and at Salome’s wish that Matt could be there to paint with them, Alex pauses in her scrubbing. Soapy washcloth in hand, she stares at the countertop and thinks of Matt sprawled across her sunlit patio, Salome next to him, as they doodle silly pictures and end up with more paint on themselves and the patio rather than the paper. She pictures him glancing up at her with blue paint on his nose, sunlight catching in his hair and grin on his face. She blinks quickly to clear away the image, shaking her head. When they head onto the patio later, it feels a little emptier than it usually does, but Alex ignores the strange ache in her chest and sits down next to her daughter to paint. XxX The second time they kiss, it takes her utterly by surprise. She’s leaving to catch her flight back to America after her latest episode has wrapped up, and saying her goodbyes to the cast and crew. She lingers a little longer than usual when it’s time to say goodbye to Matt, and she tells herself it’s just because Salome hasn’t finished saying goodbye to Karen.

She leans up to press a friendly peck to his cheek in farewell, but at the last second, Matt turns his head at just the wrong (right) moment, and their lips meet. Alex can’t keep her eyes from briefly fluttering shut in content before she catches herself and quickly pulls away, offering him an embarrassed smile. “See you next time.” XxX They're saying their goodbyes for now, as she has finished her scenes once again and is heading back to America. Alex is standing with him while Salome bids Karen a farewell. She leans up to kiss his cheek and he accidentally (or so he tells himself) turns his head and their lips touch. He watches in amazement as her eyes flutter shut, but then she's pulling back and smiling at him. She says something he completely misses, because he‘s staring at her mouth. He coughs and smiles, ignoring the heat rising up his neck. "Have a safe flight." “I plan on it,” she grins, motioning to Salome to join her. He wonders if Karen noticed the kiss. He doesn’t care. XxX When Alex ends up having to reshoot a scene late into the night, Matt offers to watch Salome and she can only imagine the trouble the two of them got into unsupervised. She finds them in Matt’s trailer just after midnight, Salome fast asleep in Matt’s arms. The sight of it gives her that now familiar but still strange ache, and she feels herself melt a little at the picture they make. Matt smiles softly when he sees her, his chin resting atop Salome’s curly head. “Hey,” he whispers. “I can take her if you like,” she says quietly, taking a seat next to him and stroking her daughter’s temple tenderly. Shaking his head, Matt tightens his hold on Salome. “She could stay here tonight, if you don’t mind.” Alex thinks of taking Salome from Matt’s arms and carrying her to the car, probably waking her in the process, just to drive to their cold hotel room and come back again early in the morning. She nods once, standing to find a pillow and bring it back. Matt laughs at her, insisting that she and Salome take his bed while he sleeps on the couch. He’s quite insistent about it, and when Alex crawls under the covers and scoots close to her daughter, Matt jokingly tucks her in and kisses both their foreheads. She laughs quietly at him, and whispers a soft goodnight. But just as she’s drifting off to sleep, she thinks that it’s nice, being taken care of for once. XxX Salome is asleep against his chest. He brushes the stray strands of hair from her relaxed face and

smiles softly. That game of tag around the lot had really tired her out. "I can take her, if you'd like," Alex offers, voice a whisper, as she sits down next to him in his trailer. He shakes his head, eyes intent on the older woman's face. "She could stay here tonight, if you don't mind," he answers quietly, arms tightening around Salome's frame. Alex seems to hesitate for a moment, but she nods her consent. She stands and walks to the bed towards the back, grabbing a pillow. He sends her a questioning look. "I thought maybe she'd sleep on the couch?" She asks, stopping in the middle of the room. He laughs, a quiet burst of air from his lips, and stands carefully. "No, she can take my bed. It's no trouble." Alex looks ready to argue, but he stops her with a quick shake of his head. "You can stay, too, if you'd like. I'll take the couch," he offers, walking steadily towards the bed to lay the sleeping child down. "I couldn-" "Yes, you could, and you shall," Matt demands softly, pushing her back to the bed and taking the pillow from her hands. She stands there for a moment, looking at a loss. "Go. To. Sleep." That night, with Alex and Salome in his bed in the trailer, Matt feels like he has a family. It's hard to shake that feeling, because they're not his family. But he wants them to be.

The way you move ain't fair Chapter Notes

In this chapter, Brinney wrote from Matt's point of view and Friday wrote from Alex's. Chapter title from the Train song Hey Soul Sister.

Their third kiss is something new entirely. They stop in the middle of filming ‘A Good Man Goes to War’ for a lunch break, and she sits with Arthur and Matt, discussing American tea versus English tea, for some bizarre reason that happens to be entirely Karen’s fault, though she’d scurried off before a consensus could be reached. When Arthur is called away for a moment, Alex turns to Matt, who looks like he hasn’t been following the conversation at all. In fact, he seems to be staring at her hair. She smiles, waiting for him to notice her watching him. Finally, he blinks and his brow un-furrows. “Okay there, dear?” She asks, entertained. He starts to speak, clears his throat, and begins again with a flirtatious smile. “Not necessarily. Your hair is so distracting.” She laughs delightedly, a bit pleased and more than amused. Leaning closer, she reminds him, “You’re the one who thought it’d be a sin against God if I even tried to straighten it.” Matt’s face is so close to hers that she can feel his warm breath against her cheek. They’re grinning at each other, and Matt says quietly, “And I don’t regret it.” She feels her pulse tremble in her throat, and she swallows. Someone calls her name from across the set and she almost jumps, guilty and a little disappointed at the interruption. Sighing, she leans forward a fraction to move her foot from underneath her and suddenly Matt’s lips are on hers – entirely accidental once again. Her breath catches, and Matt doesn’t pull away. Instead, he presses his lips a little more firmly against hers. She fights the urge to press herself closer to him and instead she nearly trips over herself pulling away as quickly as she can. She glances around the room anxiously but no one seems to have noticed. Breathing a small sigh of relief, Alex meets Matt’s eyes again and he winks at her. She laughs loudly, a little giddy and light-headed. When she walks away, she might just swing her hips a little, just for fun. It doesn’t matter – it’s only flirting. XxX Their third kiss is something he likes to think was all them. He knows it wasn’t planned, nor expected, but it was purposeful, at least for him. Lunch has been called on the set of ‘A Good Man Goes to War,’ before the take of the big reveal, and Alex is sitting down next to him as she and Arthur carry on a conversation.

Arthur sits across from Alex, hands folded over his knees. “Do you really think that?” He asks and he sounds completely enraptured. “Of course I do,” Alex confirms and Matt really has no idea what they’re talking about. He continues to pretend to be paying attention anyway, because the way she becomes animated when she talks about something she’s extremely invested in is so lovely. Her curls bounce around her flushed face and he doesn’t think Arthur could be more enraptured than he is. That’s when he notices she’s staring back at him and Arthur has wandered off. She’s smiling that little secret smile of hers and Matt doesn’t know what to do. “Okay there, dear?” She questions him, voice light. He notices how her eyes sparkle with something he can’t name and doesn’t dare try to. “Er,” he starts, but he has to clear his throat first. He begins again, small smile on his face as he leans in, “not necessarily. Your hair is so distracting.” She laughs and he refrains from letting his eyes roll back at the sound. She leans in, too, smile expanding. He really likes her teeth. “You’re the one who thought it’d be a sin against God if I even tried to straighten it,” Alex reminds him and he belts out a laugh, remembering. She had packed a flat iron in her bag, which was open when he’d wandered into the makeup trailer to see her. He’d demanded she never use it in his presence, only after preaching about the mystical properties of it. “And I don’t regret it,” he says quietly, because now they’re in each other’s faces and smiling. It’s truly a good thing that everyone on the set of Doctor Who doesn’t know what personal space is or they might mistake this for something it isn’t. Even if he wants that something. They hear her name being called from across the room and he notices her expression falters a bit, almost as if she doesn’t want to be dragged away right now. He quirks a brow, motioning to where he can see Dave, the one who called for her, looking down at a sheet of paper and talking into a walkie-talkie at the same time. That’s when it happens. She’s leaning forward to move her foot from beneath her bum, and their lips meet. It’s chaste, but she gasps into it and he presses his lips firmly against hers. She’s scrambling away as quickly as it happened, eyes frantically glancing at the people around them. No one’s paying them any mind, so when their eyes meet again, he shoots her a wink. Composure officially regained, Alex begins to laugh, shaking her head at his obnoxious flirting. “Watch where you put those lips, love,” she warns before turning away to head toward Dave. He wants to shout after her. He wants to tell her he’ll only watch where he puts them if he can put them on her. That would be a stupid idea, so he doesn’t. Matt stands to get a better look at her backside as she walks away. She’s got a really nice bum, he notices. Like he does every time she walks away. XxX

Alex isn’t one to get nervous filming anything for Doctor Who. Not really. For one thing, she’s done far more in front of a camera and with less clothing on. But when it’s time to film the scene and she’s going over her lines one more time behind the camera, her eyes find Matt leaning against Hitler’s desk, tapping long fingers restlessly, and she feels her stomach flutter in anticipation. Swallowing, Alex turns her mind back to the dialogue on the page in front of her. It’s just a little wiggle, and then it’ll be over and she can forget about practically sitting in his lap. The director calls for everyone to get in place, and as Matt, Karen and Arthur shuffle into position, Alex bounces a little on the balls of her feet, nervous energy making it hard for her to sit still. “Action!” “The teeth, the teeth! The teeth! Oh, look at them!” She sprints over to Matt in her high-heeled boots, backing him up against the desk and leaning in close, purring, “Watch out that bow tie.” Matt’s face is comical – eyes wide and mouth a taut line. She hears a sharp intake of breath from him as she turns in between the space between his legs, wriggling her bum against him. For a moment, she imagines his hands on her waist, pulling her closer – long fingers tight and forceful on her hips – before she brushes away the ridiculous thought and says, “Excuse me, you lot, I need to weigh myself. ” She pushes away from him and scurries out of frame, letting herself properly breathe for the first time since the scene began. As the director calls for a break, Alex turns and sees that Matt hasn’t moved from the desk. He sits there with a stiff look on his face, fists clenched at his sides as Karen and Arthur begin to walk away, teasing each other. Alex catches Matt’s eye, smiling curiously. The stiff expression doesn’t leave his face, but he winks. XxX Oh God. To say he was freaking out would be an understatement. He glances at Alex, who is prepping her lines behind the camera, and oh God, he is so totally, completely freaking out. Hitler’s office is extremely large and very well done, but now that he has a moment to himself, his nerves are distracting him from everything around him but her, and the thought of their next scene together. The thought of her body against his, between his legs and oh dear lord have mercy. How is he supposed to control himself? To say the least, Matt has come to terms with his attraction for her. What man in his right mind wouldn’t be attracted to her? And after their shared kisses, no matter what the circumstance, denying the attraction would simply be a lie. A huge, fat whopping lie. So he breathes and mentally shouts at his body to stay calm, because if he sports any reaction to

her in that moment, she’ll feel it and everything will be awkward and please, just stay calm. “Mr. Smith, if you would take your place please.” The words sound muffled in his busy head, but he nods and moves to stand in between Karen and Arthur. Karen bumps his shoulder, and he manages to grin at her. He turns his head, eyes taking in Alex, who bounces on her feet to prepare, and he can’t help but feel jealous at how she doesn’t seem the slightest bit affected by what’s about to happen. “Action!” “The teeth, the teeth! The teeth! Oh, look at them!” And she’s running towards him and his heart is beating against his chest. Her chest brushes against his, just for a moment, and he has the perfect view down her top. “Watch out, that bow tie.” He can’t necessarily say what he’s doing with his face is acting. His legs part when she turns and her bum. Oh, her bum brushes against his crotch and when his mouth opens this next time, he has to stop the high-pitched squeak he knows he was about to make. He wants to grab her, and wow. The writers are really stupendous at writing his reactions, because, even without this being scripted, there is no way he’d be able to stop himself from flailing his arms about at her waist. “Excuse me, you lot, I need to weigh myself.” And she pushes off him and oh sweet heavens above, there is a God, because the moment her body is gone, his body reacts. “Cut!” Matt is half tempted to ask for a restroom break, but he supposes that would be a bit too obvious. At least his coat is long enough to allow him some reprieve. When he catches Alex’s eye, in order to maintain some composure, he manages a wink. She grins back at him, but she’s panting. ‘Probably just from running,’ he thinks. XxX Days later, when they’re filming for the last day at the venue, Alex stands next to Matt in her Nazi jacket and fuzzy robe, waiting to start the next scene – a healing kiss between the Doctor and River. “You’re brilliant,” Matt is saying, laughing, and Alex looks up to see him already staring back at her. Bless, it’s one of the best parts of her day – coming in to work and actively flirting with a man in his twenties. When else does a woman her age get to do such a thing? Mrs. Robinson, indeed. “I am only what you make me, dear.” Though he usually encourages physical contact between them – hugs, pinching, a hand ruffling her hair after the hairdresser has just finished with it -- Matt tenses when she puts a hand on his arm. Alex raises an eyebrow, but she removes her hand and says nothing. She has enough to worry about as it is soon enough, with Matt sprawled across a marble staircase

She has enough to worry about as it is soon enough, with Matt sprawled across a marble staircase in front of her. It’s hardly their first kiss, either on set or off but no matter how many times she kisses him, it always feels a little like the first time. Butterflies in her stomach, the overwhelming urge to draw him closer, to crawl into his lap and just live there. Trying to push away thoughts of Matt’s lap – especially after that scene days ago, still fresh in her mind – Alex kneels before him. Eyes closed and peaceful expression on his face, Matt looks like he’d decided a marble staircase was a good place for a long nap, and she feels a little like the Prince in Sleeping Beauty as she leans forward and brushes her lips with his. Matt’s mouth opens under hers and when she slips her tongue inside, she hears him let out a quiet moan that goes right through her, leaving warmth pooling low in her belly. It’s frightening how easy it is to forget about everything around them and just think about his mouth – hot and slick against hers. She gasps softly, letting her teeth graze his tongue when he pushes his mouth more firmly against hers, like he wants nothing more than to be able to move his arms, to grip her hips and flip them over, to dominate her completely. She shivers against him, barely stopping herself from letting out a small whine, and Matt nips at her bottom lip. “Cut!” Alex wrenches her mouth from his, more than a little breathless and suddenly aware of their surroundings once more as the bustle of people on set makes its way to her ears again. As Matt stares up at her, lips red and swollen, looking dazed, Alex tries to blink away the colored lights dancing behind her eyes. XxX Their last day shooting at the venue for Let’s Kill Hitler, Matt stands with Alex as they wait to be given stage directions. "You're brilliant," he laughs, eyes on Alex. They are about to film the second kiss, one of the most important scenes of this episode. "I only am what you make me, dear," Alex grins, placing a hand on his bicep. He tenses, hoping she doesn’t notice. She does, of course, and quirks a brow. He is so nervous to kiss her again. There have been accidents and acting, but their last kiss (as required by the script) was a simple peck. But this kiss needs a little more than just a quick press of closed lips together, he knows, and as he takes in the face of his tormentor, he can’t help but think today won’t be as easy. Maybe his position on the hard marble stairs will keep his reaction to a minimum. He doubts it, especially since the mini-lap dance she gave him was still ingrained on his memory like it happened five minutes ago. It very well may have. It’s not long before they have him sprawled out across the steps, and maybe, he thinks, this won’t be so bad. It had been stupid to hope because as her face comes into view and the director yells ‘action,’ everything but her mouth leaves his mind. Her kisses always leave him intoxicated and this time is nothing different. Her lips move in perfect sync with his and he doesn’t really feel the marble anymore. He lets a small, quiet moan escape his mouth when her tongue slides against his and he can feel her gasp lightly. Her teeth scrape against his tongue when he pushes for dominance, even though he probably shouldn’t, and it’s new. No

one’s ever done that to him, not even Daisy. Daisy. Oh.

So long I've waited for this night Chapter Notes

This chapter written entirely by Brinney because writing sex freaks Friday out. Chapter title from Usher's Do It To Me.

For a while, he avoids Alex whenever she’s around. He still takes her calls in the night, because he can’t bring himself to cut ties with the young girl who he absolutely adores. Alex seems to notice the back off and goes with it, only speaking to him when necessary. He tries to spend his time focusing on his girlfriend. On Daisy Lowe, the woman he is in a monogamous relationship with. He spoils her with presents and even mentions marriage to her. His heart just isn’t in it. He holds her in the night and imagines she’s curvier than she is. He kisses her and there’s something missing. Her tongue is just so submissive to his. He thinks of the challenge Alex provides him and ends up having to break the kiss with the excuse of needing to use the restroom. It’s not until Alex is back in town to work on ‘Closing Time’ that he breaks down. He’s so used to seeing her when she’s here, but their scenes don’t overlap. She’s so close to him, yet so far away. He gets the info on where she’s staying from a crewmember, under the pretenses of visiting her and Salome to say hello. Salome isn’t with her this time around. He goes anyway. Matt knocks on her hotel room door, limbs fidgeting as he waits for her to answer. It's not long before she does and he's greeted with the sight of her in nothing but a robe, hair pulled back from her face. He pushes in and she allows him to pass easily, shutting the door behind her. She's standing with her back against it while she watches him pace in front of her. "I can't get you out of my bleeding mind," he finally says, stopping to look at her fully. His eyes are hooded, and Alex feels warmth pool in her belly. The same warmth she feels whenever they're close. "Matt," she starts, but he's in her face a moment later, breath hot on her cheeks. "I want you, Alex," he admits and his gaze is so intense that her breath hitches in her throat. “Tell me you don’t want me and I’ll leave.” “I-I.. I can’t,” she whispers and she looks so startled, so frightened from this exchange. This is nothing like the innocent flirting they take part in, nearly every time they’re together. Though, was it really innocent when they were both thinking about it? About this, right here, because now his mouth is slanting across hers, teeth nibbling at her bottom lip and there’s no one around to catch them. There’s no acting involved and this is definitely not an accident.

"You have a girlfriend," she whispers against his lips. She's not stopping, he notices, and he forges on. His hands slip beneath her dressing gown and he groans when his fingers touch bare flesh. "I don't care," he mumbles as his hand splays across her stomach. "I'm twenty years your senior," she tries again, but it sounds like she's trying to convince herself to stop more than him. His jacket is bunched in her fists and Matt silently moans when she pulls his body tightly against hers. "I don't care," he reiterates, tongue sliding out the moment the words leave his lips. He licks at her bottom lip and she opens immediately. The kiss is rushed, all tongues and roaming hands. He shrugs his leather jacket off his shoulders, tossing it to his left, and then his hands are on her stomach again. Her robe has fallen open in their frenzy and he pauses, taking in the golden skin before him. She's tugging at his jeans, fingers nimbly undoing the button. His lips are on her neck when she slides his zipper down, pulling him from the confines of his boxers. His hips thrust into her hands uncontrollably and he has to stop her before this ends way before it begins. "Wait," he gasps, tugging at her wrists. She stops, chest heaving against his. He backs away from her, watching as her face flashes with confusion before understanding dawns. She follows him silently, letting the white robe fall from her body and his breath hitches. He's seen her naked before, though he can't be bothered with feeling guilty for watching that film. It honestly didn't do her justice. He reaches the bed, stopping his movements as she continues to advance. With a quick tug at the hem of his blue tank, it's over his head and on the floor in seconds. Then he's kicking his boots off, allowing his jeans to fall to the floor around his feet, kicking them off into an unknown direction, followed by his boxers. She's against him in moments, and the unified moan that echoes between them is loud and uncaring as their bare flesh meets. Her hardened nipples brush across his chest and Matt pants, tugging her head up to initiate another kiss. Alex pushes him down onto the bed, falling with him, and some loose curls tickle his flushed cheeks as she takes control of the kiss, slipping her ardent tongue between his open lips. She's grinding against him unabashedly, and he has to grip her hips to keep from losing it completely. "Alex," he grits out, shoving her over so that he is on top. "Hurry up," she demands, legs widening to accommodate him. He settles in quickly, sliding against her in a frenzied rhythm. The moans that escape her fascinate him. He licks at the roof of her mouth, not really kissing her, and she sucks on it earnestly. His eyes roll back in his head at the sensation, but he pulls back. "Condom," he whispers as she bucks against him. She shakes her head, reaching between them and grabbing a hold of him, so that on his next thrust he's inside and holy hell. "Oh, god," she moans, head thrown back against the mattress. Matt pulls her leg up by her knee, holding it against him as his hips pull back and thrust in quickly. He's breathing heavily against her chest, back arched as his hips snap back and forth. He takes a perky nipple into his mouth, sucking hard. She screams into the dim hotel room, gripping his shoulders tightly. He readjusts himself quickly and on the next thrust, his abdomen is grinding against her neglected clit. It's enough to have her biting at his bicep, muffling the sweet sounds coming from deep within her throat.

He can't help but notice the difference between her and Daisy in that moment. Whereas Daisy is loud and high-pitched, Alex is low and deep. The moans of a woman who knows how to take advantage of pleasure, who knows what to do with it. He switches his attention to her breast, hiking her leg higher against him. "Fuck, Matt!" She exclaims in the next instant, clenching around him, hard, as her head whips back and forth. He bites down gently on the underside of her breast, thrusting harder, without rhythm. It doesn't take long for him to reach his climax, his teeth sinking into her soft flesh once more. His body stills above her and he has to pull out as her wet heat continues to clench and release repeatedly, the sensation too much on his oversensitive, sated member. He rolls off of her, collapsing on his back. They lay in silence, regaining a sense of reality. The weight of what just happened hangs over them and he wonders if he'll be able to kiss her on set again without sporting an obvious reaction. "This changes everything," he hears her say. His head lolls to the side so he can look at her. She's staring up into his face, all seriousness, aside from the betraying grin that teases her lips. "Oh, but it's brilliant," Matt teases, rolling over to lie on top of her again. She squirms, trying to scoot away from him as his fingers begin to tickle her sides. "Just because I just had sex with you doesn't mean it's going to happen all the time," Alex says between laughs, kicking at his legs. "You lie!" He mock-gasps, kissing her quickly before turning his attention to her throat. "Oh," she moans, "I so lie." -“Get off me,” Alex grumbles. She pushes at Matt, who is half on top of her, and her bleary eyes search for the alarm clock. 3:02 AM Two hours until she’s needed on the set. She pushes at Matt again, who hadn’t even budged at her last attempt. His hand tightens around her hip as his thigh pushes between hers. “What?” He murmurs, burying his face further into her hair. She relaxes into the mattress, curling herself into the young man who so obviously doesn’t want to get up. “I need to be on set in two hours,” she informs him, kissing his neck softly. He sighs into her hair, turning his face to kiss her. She responds immediately, opening to his probing tongue. His hands begin a purposeful slide down her stomach, but she stops him, breaking the kiss. “None of that.” “Why not?” Matt whines. His eyes are half open as he looks at her, petulance etching his features. “You are such a child,” she laughs, successfully pushing him off her. She sits up and runs a hand through her thoroughly tousled curls. When she moves to stand, Matt snatches her wrist and she glances curiously back at him. He’s grinning like a mad fool and quickly captures her lips between his. This time, when they break apart, she’s not so sure she wants ‘none of that.’

“Yeah,” Matt agrees, coming back to her previous statement, “but this child rocked your bloody world.” His hands are roaming her body, stopping to tweak just the right places and she moans. She has to stop him, she knows, or she won’t make it to the set on time, but it’s so hard. At the thought, she laughs out loud, eyes focusing on his erection. Confused, his hands stop and he pulls back. “Want to share with the class?” He inquires, caressing her neck. She takes the opportunity to scoot off the bed. Standing, Alex stares down at him, highly amused. “Nope. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to go take a shower. And before you ask, no, you cannot join me.” Matt pouts, lying back on the bed with a dramatic sigh. “You are too serious. I could get you off-” “Hush, darling. I will not be persuaded.” He glances from the ceiling to her, biting his lip to contain a groan as she bends over to dig through her bag. “I should probably get going anyway,” he manages, climbing out of the bed. She turns back to him, shower supplies in hand, and offers him an understanding nod. Too tempted, he strides over to her and kisses her softly. She moans into his mouth when his hands slide around her hips to pull her to him. “Balls to it,” she breathes, tugging him with her to the bathroom. He grins, swatting her bum. She glares back at him, continuing, “but you have to leave right after. Understood?” “Understood, ma’am,” he agrees with a salute. Three hours, forty-seven minutes later, Alex finally makes it to the set. Showering with Matt is definitely a bad, bad idea. By the time they had exited said shower, she’d needed another one. Not that she got one, because he had managed to distract her, again, for a quick romp on the bed. And a quick make-out session in the hall, then another at her car. She hopes today doesn’t take long.

But you pay me no attention Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes

It feels like she’s avoiding him. He knew it would be awkward, if only a little bit, after what transpired between them, but he didn’t think she’d outright ignore his existence. He’d even called her to make sure they were good. Maybe she had lied when she’d said yes. He tries to shake off the discomforting feeling that comes with the thought, and makes an effort not to look at her, since she so obviously isn’t looking at him.

It doesn’t work, of course.

Not when she’s standing right in front of him on a break, sipping from a cup and laughing that laugh. The laugh that had enveloped them in the shower, when he had run his fingers up her sides teasingly. The laugh that had accompanied her leg wrapping securely around his hip and dragging him in closer.

As if sensing the course of his thoughts, Alex looks in his direction, mouth mid-laugh, and he fights the urge to pull her to him and kiss her until he forgets his own name.

As the day continues on, that urge grows. No matter the distance between him and Alex, he wants to tug her away from everything, hide out with her in his trailer and just have his wicked way with her.

Or hell, spend five minutes with her. Just five minutes, alone.

He doesn’t know how working with her is going to be simple anymore, and he kind of looks forward to not having to pretend around his friends. The break in filming Doctor Who could not come sooner.

But then he thinks about the distance, the space between England and America, and he dreads it. At least here, pretending he hasn’t been inside her, buried so deep, he can still be around her, see her twinkling green eyes and just bask in her.

He watches as she interacts with Karen and Arthur, a safe distance away from him. They’re seated

around a picnic table outside, eating lunch. He wonders if it’s obvious to their friends how much time they haven’t been spending together on set, especially since this episode revolves around the relationship their characters share.

They’re usually flirting and touching, but that seems like too much of a feat now, considering where they’ve been with each other.

What they’ve done to each other.

The three of them are laughing about something, and Matt wishes he were over there. He wishes he was apart of whatever they were talking about, but he can’t muster up the courage to wander over in their direction. Not when he’s staring at Alex’s cleavage, so perfectly displayed in that costume, and wishing for that night, weeks ago.

If this is how working with her is going to be from here on out, he wonders if it’s worth it. He wants to just come out with the fact that he’s been with her so intimately. He wants to leave his girlfriend and spend days with Alex, and her daughter. He wants to talk to Karen about how fantastic he thinks Alex is, and tell Arthur all the naughty details of their relationship.

Is it even a relationship?

They’d only had sex, well, countless times, but in the span of one day, and he wonders if he could simply see it as just that. As just sex between two friends or an affair between coworkers. Is he a bad person for thinking about leaving his girlfriend? He glances at Alex again and thinks, no, he isn’t.

Who could be when being teased by the magnificence that is Alex Kingston?

“Matt, are you listening to me?” Steven asks, waving his hand in Matt’s face. Matt blinks, looking back to his employer and friend, and realizes he hadn’t been listening to anything the older man had to say.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, taking a sip of his water before turning back to Steven. “What were you saying?”

“This is the biggest episode of series six, and my cast is spending their time daydreaming. You know, if you lot continue to ignore everything I have to say, this is going to be a disaster,” Steven

know, if you lot continue to ignore everything I have to say, this is going to be a disaster,” Steven chides, and Matt wonders who else has been accidentally ignoring him. He glances at Alex, a grin lighting his face, before looking back at Steven.

“Well, it is lunch time, sir,” Matt explains, motioning his hand around. “Everyone needs a break now and then.”

Obviously exasperated, Steven huffs and walks away, and Matt has to wonder if he should have handled that with a little more finesse. It wouldn’t be good to lose the most amazing job he’s ever had because he’s fantasizing about a woman.

A woman.

Hah. As if Alex Kingston was any woman.

He looks back over to the picnic table, watching as Arthur gives Alex some of his crisps, and he smiles at the relationship the three of them have established.

The whole family dynamic between them is one of the most natural things he’s ever seen, and slightly humorous, considering the age gap.

“I’m twenty years your senior.”

A shudder lances through him as he remembers the breathless words that caressed his lips in an attempt to stop whatever they were starting.

Deciding on a course of action, Matt throws his cup in the trash and moves towards the picnic table.

He’d be damned if she was going to ignore him for the rest of the day.

XxX

It’s weird.

Obviously, it’s bound to be weird at first, but for some reason, she didn’t expect it to be. On set, it’s difficult to look at Matt and interact with him like she usually does without thinking of his teeth sinking into her neck, or his hands leaving bruises on her hips, or how he feels when he’s inside her. More often than not, she finds her thoughts drifting toward what happened in her hotel room that night, and it brings a strange little smile to her face every time.

She can’t escape the paranoia that someone might somehow hear her thoughts or comprehend exactly what her smile means. It’s ridiculous, but it’s the sort of paranoia that comes with starting an affair with a co-worker, especially one as high profile as Matt. The prospect of someone finding out what they’re doing is both terrifying and thrilling. It certainly makes things more exciting.

However, for the first time in a long time, Alex is unsure of herself. After that night (and morning) in her hotel room, she has spoken to Matt only once on the phone. He’d asked her if they were still okay, and she’d said yes. Then he’d asked her if she wanted things to go back to normal, and she’d said no. She could practically feel him smiling through the phone. Alex had been in America then, but now, back in England filming for The Wedding of River Song, it feels different.

New and strange.

She doesn’t know how to act around Matt, or whether she should interact with him at all on set. He’s the one with the girlfriend to worry about, so she wants to wait for his cue. Would it look suspicious if she didn’t flirt with him like usual? Or would someone be able to tell that something is different between them?

Their flirting was naughty before, but now, she thinks it might be positively obscene. To her, their every glance practically screams ‘we had sex!’ but perhaps that’s just because she remembers it so vividly. To everyone else, it probably isn’t so blatant.

In her uncertainty, Alex spends most of her day trying not to stare or stand too close. Instead, she tries to keep her thoughts from somehow projecting to everyone else and hangs around Arthur and Karen lot more. She calls them ‘dad and mum’, the novelty of which has yet to wear off for any of them. They amuse themselves by saying things like, ‘Thank you mum’ and ‘Please pass that pen to my daughter’ and ‘Dad, will you buy me a cupcake?’ At one point, Arthur tries to ground her for swearing and Karen smacks him for being too harsh.

Alex sits with them at a picnic table outside for lunch, all of them still in costume as they enjoy the warm weather. A slight breeze ruffles Karen’s scarlet hair and sends curls tumbling into Alex’s eyes and they send each other exasperated smiles as Arthur theorizes about what Steven has

planned. Alex doesn’t understand why he bothers – only Steven could possibly comprehend what goes on in his head.

“Do you think they’ll ever write in a father to son-in-law talk?” Arthur asks, munching on a crisp. “I want to tell Matt not to bugger things up with you.”

Alex chokes on a gasp. Karen pats her on the back, pushing a bottle of water in her direction, and Alex feels her fondness for the girl grow with every new maternal gesture. Karen practically lives her role.

“Oh, that would be so cool!” Karen says. “I’d like to see that, actually. Talk about awkward. You should totally bring out the sword.”

“I know, right? Badass.”

Taking a swig of water and recovering herself, Alex clears her throat and says nothing. Arthur shakes the bag of crisps in her direction, offering her some. She shakes her head no, but he pours a handful onto her napkin anyway. Alex rolls her eyes. “I think you’re taking this parenting thing a little too far.”

Arthur laughs and Karen says, “Just remember to take little bites, honey.”

Before Alex can tell them exactly how much she hates them, Matt slides into the space next to her and nicks one of her crisps. She lets out yelp of surprise and jumps away from him.

Matt smiles, looking proud of himself as he pops his stolen crisp into his mouth. “Hello.”

“You scared me to death,” she says, scowling as she scoots her napkin of crisps away from him.

“Sorry,” he says, sounding quite the opposite.

Alex wants to kiss that smug expression from his face, and the moment she catches herself thinking it, she hurriedly glances away from him. “Don’t touch my crisps,” she says instead. “Dad gave them to me.”

“That’s right,” Arthur says, and winks at her.

XxX

As soon as she’s able, Alex slips away from the picnic table and leaves Matt with Karen and Arthur. She hasn’t made it far when she hears booted footsteps behind her, and she’d recognize that gait anywhere. Turning quickly on her heel to face him, she yelps when he nearly runs straight into her.

Steadying both of them with hands planted firmly on her hips, Matt grins. “You are spending entirely too much time today screaming for the wrong reasons.”

She punches his arm and hurriedly steps out of his grasp, glancing around. Thankfully, no one else has finished lunch yet. “What are you doing following me?”

Matt frowns. “Well, I was planning on snogging you senseless in my trailer. Is something wrong?”

Alex ignores the thrill that runs through her whole body at the thought of kissing him again, glancing around once more. “I just…don’t know how to act.”

“What do you mean?” He asks, brow furrowed. “Just act normal.”

“Well normal doesn’t feel normal anymore. It feels suspicious!”

Matt laughs. “The only thing suspicious is you avoiding me all day and jumping out of your seat when I sit next to you.”

Alex arches a brow at him. “Sounds familiar.”

Matt blushes. “You made me nervous, Kingston.” He rubs at the back of his neck, regarding her hopefully. “So…you aren’t changing your mind about this?”

Is she? She’s had a couple weeks to clear her head, to think about this from an adult angle and decide that this is a ridiculous idea that can only end in pain and/or humiliation. Does she really want to put herself through this? This sort of thing is over before it starts, and she knows she’s just being reckless.

She only has to say so, and Matt will back away. He’ll walk off and they’ll try their best to maintain a professional working relationship and eventually, the awkwardness might go away. But the thought of never getting to kiss Matt again (unless set kisses count) or feel his hands on her, the thought of just letting this go…She doesn’t want to.

“No,” she breathes, staring up at him and licking her lips.

Matt’s answering smile is slow and brilliant. It doesn’t take much effort to lean up and press her mouth to his, wrapping an arm around his neck and drawing him down to her. He opens his mouth over hers, returning her kiss eagerly and sliding an arm around her waist to pull her body into his. Alex whimpers, reaching a hand up to cup his cheek and brushing her thumb against the stubble she finds there.

The warm breeze fluttering around them reminds Alex that they are not in a trailer or a hotel room right now. They are outside, and anyone could walk by at any second. “Wait,” she pants, pulling away.

Matt begins pressing kisses down her neck. “What?”

“We need to talk first.”

“Talking’s overrated.”

“And we are outside,” she pushes at his chest and he relents. “Now unless you want someone seeing us and taking photographs, I suggest we go to your trailer and talk, hm?”

“Such a killjoy, Kingston,” he mutters, slipping his hand into hers to drag her along.

Alex pulls her hand away and he stares at her. “What? Someone could see.”

Matt sighs. “Would you like to follow six steps behind me as well? Shall I go out and buy you glasses and a fake mustache?”

“Don’t be cheeky,” she says, and strides past him, leading the way to his trailer.

Once they’re inside with the door firmly shut behind them, Matt drops down onto his bed and looks up at Alex through his lashes. “Alright, what do you want to talk about?”

It’s difficult to think properly when he’s looking up at her like that, still in his tweed jacket and splayed out on the bed like he hasn’t a care in the world. Refusing to let herself be distracted, Alex turns away from him to sit as far from him as she can get.

“We need rules.”

“Rules?”

“Boundaries,” she amends.

Intrigued, Matt sits up, straightening his coat. “What kind of boundaries?”

“Well,” Alex glances out the window and sees Karen and Arthur walk by, arm in arm. “I think we should agree right now that this can’t change anything.”

“Of course,” Matt says. “On set, we’re strictly professional.”

“I don’t just mean on set,” she says. “I mean our everyday lives as well. I have Salome to think of and you have Daisy. This isn’t love or a relationship, and I don’t think we should treat it like it is.”

For a moment, Matt says nothing, watching her so intently with those eyes of his that Alex wants to glance away in discomfort. But she holds her ground, and he finally nods. “Alright. This is just sex and it doesn’t interfere with anything else.”

Alex nods. “Yes. Promise?”

“Promise.”

XxX

Matt watches as she rises to her feet, a smirk on her face.

“Now that that’s settled,” she murmurs, dropping to her knees before him. He sits up straighter, interest suddenly peaked. She doesn’t give him time to really assess the deal he just made with her, or the lingering ache in his chest from being so outright rejected, because now she’s running her hands up and down his thighs, nails digging in through the fabric of his trousers.

“Alex,” he groans, swallowing harshly as he looks to the trailer door. It’s locked (thankfully) and his head falls back as her hand coasts over his crotch, pressing down softly into his growing erection. Her fingers make quick work of his zipper, tugging him from the confines of his trousers and pants swiftly.

“Make sure not to spill on the costume,” she whispers, licking a stripe from the base to tip. She kisses the head, smiling as it jumps in her hands. He buries his fingers in her hair, eyes rolling back in his head. “Mess up my hair and I’m not doing this again for a good month.”

At her warning, he loosens his grip, staring down at her with an intense gaze. She looks so gorgeous, situated between his legs, perfect hand wrapped tightly around the base of his cock. He didn’t think this would happen when she led the way to his trailer, but oh, it’s nice. Very, very nice.

He’s about to reply, but his response comes out as a strangled, dying groan when her mouth wraps securely around the head, sucking her cheeks in harshly. He stops himself from thrusting into the warmth of her mouth, not wanting to choke or rush her. He doesn’t know how often she’s done this, doesn’t want to know, but wow, she’s good. Her free hand comes to up to fondle his balls, adding pressure in just the right spots.

“Fuck, Alex,” he grunts as her mouth descends, tongue wrapping deliciously around the length of him over and over and how does she breathe? Biting down on his lip, he’s shocked when she relaxes her throat, taking him all the way in. His blunt head hits the back of her throat, and the sensation sends fire through his nerves. “Holy fuck…”

She pulls him out with a slow tug, teeth scraping over the velvet skin, nails following the same path. And then she’s down again, down, up, down, down, down, up. That rolling thing she does with her tongue is even more glorious around his cock and he can’t breathe. His balls tighten considerably, and he’s thrusting his hips.

“I can’t -- Alex, fuck, baby, gunna…” he gasps incoherently. She sucks harder, cheeks dipping in and breath escaping harshly through her nose. He looks at her then, the heated arousal in her gaze spurring him on further. He grips her head to his cock, howling loudly as he releases into her mouth. She’s swallowing it all, and holy hell if that isn’t even more of a turn on.

When he’s spent, he pulls her up and kisses her harshly, biting at her lip when he tastes himself. He yanks her skirt up as best he can, dipping his fingers into her soaking (that turned her on, this much?) knickers, working at her clit with quick strokes. She moans deeply, his tongue feeling the vibrations of it.

He’s about to slip his fingers inside (that’s the only place he ever wants to be) when a quick knock comes to his door. He almost misses it, mind focused on her, but she’s pulling away, ripping his hand from her panties almost as quickly as he got them in there.

“Cover yourself up,” she whispers, ducking into his bathroom quickly. Finally realizing what’s going on, he stuffs himself back into his trousers, standing. He rights his clothes and glances at the bathroom. She’s got the door cracked and stares back at him, and their gazes are that of matching longing.

“I’m sorry,” he groans, walking slowly to the door. “I’ll make it up to you.”

She responds with a laugh, motioning through the crack for him to answer the door. “You just better make it up to me.”

“Oh, I will,” he promises, unlocking the door and pausing before opening it. “I definitely will.”

Chapter End Notes

Thanks everyone for the kudos – we’re glad you like the fic! Okay, in this chapter, Alex’s point of view written by Friday and Matt’s point of view written by Brinney. Chapter title comes from the song Shiver by Coldplay. - Friday

Love you with my hands tied Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes

Chapter Six: Love you with my hands tied

The day they’re set to film the wedding scene in the finale, Alex hasn’t had a moment alone with Matt all day. At first, it drives her crazy. The script calls for his hair to be longer and graying just a touch at the sides and he looks so impossibly distinguished and strangely, a little dangerous. All she wants is to find two minutes to drag him into his trailer, a closet full of cleaning supplies – at this point she’ll take anywhere, as long as they can be alone long enough for her to run her fingers through his hair and trace her tongue over his collarbone.

It’s a busy day, and until their scene is filmed, she mostly watches him from across the set. She knows he can sense her eyes on him, following him wherever he goes and tracking his every move. Now and then, he’ll glance at her and raise an eyebrow. Sometimes, he doesn’t look at her at all, but she sees the smirk continually lurking at the corners of his mouth.

After a while, she makes it into a game.

It doesn’t take her long to find what she’s looking for behind set, and she takes her prize with her to a seat where she has a clear view of Matt talking to Steven behind the cameras. Dressed in River’s black skirt and low cut jacket, she crosses her legs and unwraps the lollypop.

She stares at Matt for a while, waiting for him to notice her. He does, of course, and when his eyes dart in her direction, she slowly raises the lolly to her lips and closes her mouth around it. She runs her tongue over the red treat, watching Matt’s eyes widen.

She smirks, pulling the lolly out of her mouth enough to suck on the top, hollowing out her cheeks. Matt seems to have given up all pretense of not staring, watching her with dark eyes while whatever Steven is saying falls on deaf ears. Eyes locked on Matt’s, Alex pulls the lolly from her mouth completely and runs her tongue over the entire surface like she’s lapping at an ice cream cone.

Matt licks his lips.

Taking the lolly back into her mouth, she nips at it gently with her teeth before pulling it out again,

then in again – a slow, seductive thrusting before finally pushing it back in and giving it a hard suck. Mouth agape, Matt unabashedly devours her with his eyes in a room full of people and Alex can’t bring herself to care who else might be watching. Steven elbows Matt to get his attention and Matt stumbles into the refreshment table, his cheeks flushed and eyes wild.

Alex laughs around the treat in her mouth. She probably shouldn’t feel so proud of herself for torturing him, but he’s been driving her mad just by being near all day. A little payback had been required. Making his excuses to Steven, Matt begins to walk toward her and Alex watches him lazily, smirking.

Bending down, Matt snatches the lolly from her hand. Eyes dark and pupils blown wide, he looks at her like he wants nothing more than to shove her against the nearest wall. “You will pay for that, Kingston,” he murmurs, voice wavering.

Leaning toward him and giving him an excellent view down her top, Alex raises an eyebrow in challenge. “I look forward to it.”

Matt shifts uncomfortably, popping the lolly into his mouth, and Alex watches with warmth pooling in her belly as he sucks where her mouth had just been.

He smirks, watching her expression. “Not so funny now, is it?”

She glares at him, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’d like my lollypop back now, please.”

“I don’t think so,” Matt speaks around it. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a little problem to take care of. Thanks to a very naughty woman who molested a piece of candy right in front of me and an entire film crew.”

“I’m a bit of an exhibitionist.” She shrugs. “You’ll learn to like it.”

“Already do, Kingston,” he mutters, sliding past her and down the hall, toward the restroom.

Alex watches him go with a smile.

--

Later that night, when they’re alone in a hotel room, Matt has her pinned on the mattress. Their clothes have long been shed, and he’s stolen a certain prop from the set.

“This,” he growls, straddling her hips as he hooks the handcuffs to each of her wrists before tossing her arms down above her head, “is what you get, love.”

Alex can’t help but answer him with a moan, the heat pooling within her too much to take. Seeing him like this is more of a turn on than she expected. When she arches her hips into his (but he stops her, pinning her down with strong hands), she knows she has to torture him more in the future.

She watches as he lifts himself from her body completely. He moves so he’s standing at the edge of the bed, staring down at her naked form, laid out and bound for him. The heat in his gaze is intense and Alex bites her lip.

She's been naked on screen, but Matt always manages to make her feel anxious. Anxious about how he sees her body, if she's beautiful enough for him. It's irrational, she knows, because he's proven to her multiple times in the duration of their short affair that she is more than beautiful to him. But she can't help the feeling.

He pulls off his shirt and she watches him just like he's watching her. Her legs are spread, only slightly, and his eyes are feasting on her like she's a treat and he is famished.

“Matt,” she whimpers, stretching her legs out, toes wiggling against his thighs. He smirks, obviously loving the position he’s put her in. Jeans low on his hips and erection highly obvious, he kneels on the edge of the bed. Leaning down, he plants his hands on either side of her face, and kisses her roughly.

Alex lets him lead, knowing he wants to be in control and enjoying it probably more than he is. He pries her lips open with his probing tongue, and she gasps when he licks the roof of her mouth. He doesn’t stay there for long, kissing the corner of her mouth, along her jaw line and down the column of her throat. He moves his hands down her sides, fingers pressing into her flesh softly.

“You’re mine tonight,” he rumbles into her neck, biting down on her pulse point as he grinds his jean-clad hips against her. The movement sends a shot of pleasure straight to her abdomen and she’s pulling roughly against the handcuffs. Props or not, she thinks, they’re still restricting enough to stop her from what she wants. And oh God, she wants him. She wants him flush

against her, inside her.

“Uhnn, Matt!” she shouts when his hips grind down again. It’s so hard to focus, because his thumbs are brushing across her nipples and his erection is rubbing against her at just the right spot, never mind the lips that are teasing her collarbone. She plants her feet flat on the bed, encasing him in her naked thighs.

“I want you to keep your hands above your head until I move them, understand?” Matt demands, slowly kissing his way down her chest. He pauses with his mouth directly over an erect nipple, staring intently at her face. She looks down at him, cheeks flushed, and nods. Anything to get his mouth on her skin again.

She isn’t disappointed when his mouth wraps gently around her nipple, alternating between hard sucks and soft licks. Her toes curl into the sheets and she bites down hard on her lip, a low-pitched mewl escaping from deep within her throat.

“You see what happens when you torture me in front of everyone?” He chastises against her breast, nuzzling it affectionately. He turns his attention to the other one, repeating his actions before tugging at it with his teeth. “Not going to do it again, are you?”

“Mmn, going to do it all the time,” Alex sighs. She clenches her thighs around his torso when he nibbles a bit harder on her breast, the pounding ache becoming more and more prominent.

“Of course you are,” he chuckles as he slips further down her body, licking and nipping at her heaving stomach. This is honest to God punishment and she loves it. A slick sheen of sweat has already formed across her body, and he still looks as dry as ever. Her heart is pounding hard against her chest and she feels so empty, clenching and unclenching around nothing.

When he finally situates himself between her legs, she’s able to regain her breathing. He nuzzles her lower abdomen with his nose, his chin brushing ever so lightly across her neglected clit.

"Mm," Alex moans quietly, head lolling against the pillows. An errant curl falls into her eyes and she attempts to blow it away. Matt glances up from where he's positioned between her thighs, and he shoots her a lazy grin, placing a teasing kiss on her navel. She squirms, foot flat on his back in an attempt to push him down against her.

"Tsk, impatient," he laughs, nipping at her hip as he pins her down by her thighs. Her fingers flex and she suddenly detests his idea of stealing the prop handcuffs. They were easy enough to get out

of, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. As torturous as it is, seeing him like this, so in control and content, is more arousing than she had expected.

"Just…hurry," she begs, arching her hips from the bed. He nuzzles her again, his grin morphing into a smirk.

"No can do, Ms. Kingston," he taunts, licking a line across the top of her heat. A low moan escapes her and she grips at the pillowcases with her hands. If only there was a slotted headboard, it'd make it easier keeping her hands above her head.

"And," she pauses to gasp as his teeth nip at her sensitive bud, "why's that?"

"I want to make you writhe," he admits lowly and then his mouth is attacking her and all thought process is gone.

His arms wrap around her thighs from underneath, keeping her pinned down by the hips as he licks rapidly at her clit.

“Oh!” She shouts, hips bucking against his hold. Her eyes screw shut, head whipping back and forth on the pillow. Her hair gets stuck to her open mouth, unmoving even as she thrashes beneath Matt. The whimper that escapes her can hardly be deemed womanly, but she doesn’t care, because now he’s pressing his tongue flat against her, running it up and down in fast movements. His breathing is harsh against her pussy as he folds his tongue around her clit, and he sucks his cheeks in. It’s then when he removes one hand from her waist, moving it beneath her slightly arched arse. He slips a finger inside her wet heat, quickly followed by another.

Alex can’t even properly moan anymore, the sounds coming from her sounding like dying shrieks. Her legs wrap around his shoulders, ankles hooking together against the middle of his back. The angle serves to drive his fingers deeper within her, and the constant slash of pleasure shooting through her is too much. His tongue and his fingers and oh god, he’s replaced his fingers with his tongue. His nose brushes against her clit as he shakes his head back and forth, hands gripping at the tops of her thighs tightly.

He hums against her, whispering sweet nothings between her thighs, against her aching, clenching, coming pussy. She pulls at the handcuffs again, this time harder, as her upper body shoots from the mattress. They break with a snap and she’s gripping his head, holding him against her so tightly as she rides out her orgasm.

It isn’t long before he’s tapping against her stomach, signaling for her to let go. She does, reluctantly, falling back against the mattress. Matt sits up, leaning over her body with a grin as he licks his shining lips. She stares at him, dazed and gasping for breath.

“That was...” she trails off, pushing her hair from her face. Her eyes slowly leave his face and look at the broken handcuff still cinched to her wrist. She holds it out to him with pleading eyes, sucking her bottom lip into her mouth. It’s terribly difficult for her to speak right now and she’s really, really thirsty.

He laughs, undoing it quickly. He snatches up her other wrist, pulling the second half off before tossing both pieces onto the floor.

Matt tugs her into him, rolling them over so she’s straddling him. Her hands fall flat against his chest and she almost falls into him when her still-sensitive clit brushes across the hard denim of his jeans.

“You up for this?” He questions, curling a hand into her tousled curls. Alex’s eyes roll into the back of her head as he begins to massage her scalp gently. Still not able to fully use her voice, she begins to undulate her hips slowly against his, mouth quirking when he groans. He is so painfully hard underneath her, hidden away by denim and pants.

She leans down, snatching his bottom lip between her teeth. Her hands slide down his slim stomach, fingers stumbling over each other to undo the button of his jeans. Her hair creates a curtain around them, hiding them from the empty room. She rests her head against his, reveling in the feel of his hot breath across her cheeks as she slides the zipper down. They fumble together as they both attempt to shed him of the last of his clothing. With his trousers and pants mere inches from his feet, she lifts her hips, green eyes intent on his smoldering blue ones.

He slips into her with ease and the feeling of being so completely filled washes over her. She listens with great concentration to the way his breath hitches as she sinks, inch by bloody inch, down his hard shaft. She stills the moment he is buried all the way inside her, clenching around him repeatedly.

Matt sits up, mouth latching onto her throat as he wraps his arms up around her shoulders from beneath her arms, forcing her to hook her arms around his neck. She turns her face into his hair when he thrusts up, suffocating her soft moan. Legs on either side of his hips, she begins a slow rise and fall rhythm, the sound of their skin slapping against each other and their harsh but quiet gasps the only thing that can be heard between the two.

He’s licking and sucking at different parts of her neck, leaning down to capture a nipple as it

brushes across his throat. At each down stroke, Alex whimpers, each spear of unadulterated pleasure causing her to grip the back of his head tightly against her.

In a flash, Matt has her pushed down against the bed, leaving her with her head hanging off the edge and he pounds into her with abandon. Her grip doesn’t loosen and his mouth never leaves her chest, mouth moving back and forth between her two bouncing breasts. One of his hands slips between their hips, two fingers attacking her clit with quick flicks.

“Mmnah,” Alex moans loudly, head thumping against the mattress with each rapid thrust. She’s so close, meeting him thrust for thrust.

“Alex, baby, so close,” he grunts against her skin, head resting between her breasts. She pulls her head up, tugging him to her mouth for a rough kiss, all tongues and teeth.

She shatters first, screaming his name into his mouth as her body goes rigid from the pleasure washing over her in waves. All she can see behind her shut-tight eyelids is blinding white, and she can’t breathe.

“Ah, shit!” Matt shouts against her lips as he comes, rolling them over in an attempt to keep them from falling off the bed. She collapses on top of him again, and they’re precariously close to the edge.

It’s quiet between them for long moments and if Alex thought she was thirsty before, she was so wrong. Her throat is dry, but she knows she won’t be able to move for a really long time.

“Pet,” Matt breathes, and she lifts her head as best she can from his chest, looking at him with sleepy eyes.

“Hm?” She inquires quietly, chin resting against her palm as her eyes drift shut.

“We need to move before we topple to the floor,” he laughs, but it’s only a soft burst of air in her face. The feel of his breath across her sweat-slicked skin is nice, she thinks. “Come on, baby.”

She groans when he pushes at her, sitting up with great difficulty. She immediately falls back against the pillows, head narrowly missing the wall. She curls up, hair tickling her nose and eyes. Matt is close behind, tugging the comforter out from beneath her and molding himself against her back.

back.

“That good, eh?” He whispers into her hair, kissing the shell of her ear softly.

“Bloody fantastic,” she mumbles, pushing her back against his chest, seeking his warmth. “Torturing you all the time.”

He rolls his eyes, rolling over halfway to switch the lamp on the side table off. “You already do.”

“Mm.”

--

The next day, Matt is forced with the task of taking the broken handcuffs to the prop trailer, Alex laughing all the while as he attempts to slip in and out without being noticed. She tries to stifle her laughter when he’s caught leaving the trailer by Karen, who unloads a ton of questions on him.

In the end, she thinks, she always wins.

Chapter End Notes

Good morning! It's ten thirty in the morning and I really prefer to be dead to the world until about noon so I am not a happy camper this morning. BUT thank you all so much for all the views and the kudos because it makes Brinney and I really happy -- it almost makes up for being up too early:) Okay, in this chapter, I wrote the first Alex scene but then Brinney kidnapped her and wrote lovely smut. I'm sure you all don't mind. Haha Next chapter won't involve smut though, so please be aware that there IS a plot happening here. Also, chapter title comes from the Lady Gaga song 'Teeth'.

You know that I could use somebody Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes

Upon waking, Alex knows that it isn’t going to be a good day. She’d tossed and turned during the night, never able to get properly comfortable even in her sleep, and then she’d been woken up by the sound of the maid knocking firmly on the door – totally oblivious to the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign hanging on the door handle.

When she realizes that her phone alarm has malfunctioned and that she is late for work, she spills an entire container of expensive face powder all over the counter and the floor in the bathroom during her rush to get ready quickly. And then Salome accidentally steps in it, tracking it all over the carpet.

No more happy about being woken up than Alex, Salome is in quite the mood as well, especially after realizing she has gotten face powder all over her favorite black socks with the kittens on them.

It isn’t a good morning for either of them.

Alex makes it into work an hour late, apologizing profusely to everyone even as Salome releases her hand and sprints toward Matt, who is talking to Arthur on the other side of the room. Matt spots Salome running toward him and his smile is brilliant.

Alex watches him bend down and let himself be tackled by her daughter – who seems to have forgotten all about their terrible morning. Standing up with her in his arms, Matt kisses her head, bops her on the nose, and after exchanging a few words and winking in Alex’s direction, he returns to his conversation with Arthur, Salome still clinging to his neck.

Shaking her head, Alex sighs. He makes it look so easy. She’d like to see him deal with Salome when she’s cross. It’s a mite trickier than dealing with her when she’s normal and happy, giving out hugs with a sweet smile on her face.

The bad day just continues from there – little things piling up and making everything so much worse. On her lunch break, instead of sitting outside in the strangely warm English weather with her daughter, Matt, Karen and Arthur, she ends up using Matt’s trailer for a bit of privacy to answer a call from Florian. The conversation leads to an argument that ends with her shouting her goodbye and tossing her phone across the room in a fit of childish pique.

Salome walks into the trailer not seconds later, dragging Matt by the hand. They both smell of peanut butter sandwiches and the springtime air, and Alex is a little jealous.

“Mum, Karen is doing a funny dance in the parking lot. Wanna see?”

“Not right now, love,” Alex smiles tiredly, running a hand through her hair. “But you can tell me about it later, all right?”

Salome shrugs and wanders back outside, probably back to the parking lot to watch Karen’s adorably ridiculous antics for a while. Matt lingers behind, lurking in the doorway and watching her closely.

“All right?”

Alex offers him the same ‘I’m fine’ smile she’d just given her daughter, but Matt only frowns in reply. “Just tired,” she says instead.

Matt crosses the room to sit beside her on the loveseat, holding out a hand expectantly. Knowing the routine by now, Alex slips her hand into his, smiling genuinely now as his fingers tighten around hers. “Okay. That was a good effort. Want to try a bit of honesty now?”

She rolls her eyes. “I’m fine, really. Just a bad day, that’s all.”

“Ah,” Matt nods, leaning back into the cushions and pulling her with him. She settles into the crook of his arm, nestling her head into his shoulder. “Alex Kingston and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.”

She snorts into his shirt, pinching his side and smiling when he squirms away. “Shut up, you great pillock.”

He presses his lips to the top of her head and Alex feels oddly comforted. “Do you still want to meet later tonight?”

He sounds so hopeful that Alex almost tells him yes, but the weight of this horrible day is still heavy around her shoulders and she wants nothing more than to go back to her hotel, pull on a pair of sweatpants and sleep for an age.

Glancing up at him and wincing, she says, “I’m sorry, would you mind terribly if I just went back to the hotel? I’m exhausted and I just want to forget this entire day.”

Fingers creeping slowly up her arm, Matt says into her hair, “I could help with that. I’m an excellent distraction.”

She laughs. “No offense honey, but I don’t want sex. I want chocolate.”

“Women,” Matt sighs, fingers in her hair now. He has developed a habit of twirling a curl around his index finger and then watching in fascination as it bounces back into place when he pulls away. Magic hair, he calls it. “Very well. I shall just go home to my girlfriend, where I feel wanted.”

“Good,” she says. “You definitely need the ego boost.”

Matt guffaws. “You’re so mean, Alex Kingston. Why do I like you so much?”

“It’s the magic hair,” she says, yawning.

“Probably.”

--

Around eleven that night, when Salome has dropped into an exhausted sleep on one of the two double beds in the room, Alex stretches out on the other bed with a book. She doesn’t get much time to read, but after the day she has had, reading about someone else’s problems seems like the perfect way to end the day.

After Matt had left her earlier that day, he had taken her temporarily good mood with him, and her day had finished in the same manner it had begun – horribly. With a sigh of self-pity, Alex frowns at the words on the page in front of her. Tomorrow has to be better, surely. Who has two bad days

in a row?

Just then, there’s a soft knock at the door and Alex looks up from her book and stares in the direction of the knock, wondering if she might be hearing things. Whoever is on the other side of the door will not be ignored, however, and the knock comes again.

Alex glances down at herself and makes a face before standing up and crossing the room. Whoever visits someone at eleven o’clock on a week night need not expect glamour, so she swings open the door in her Tee-shirt and sweatpants, her hair pulled back into a loose ponytail.

Standing on the other side of the door in jeans and a leather jacket, Matt grins at her like she’d answered the door in skimpy lingerie. “Hello.”

She gapes at him for a moment, at a loss. Though, she can’t deny that she’s glad to see him – always, it seems. “Matt, what are you doing here? I told you I didn’t feel up to anything tonight.”

Still smiling, Matt reaches into his jacket and produces a large chocolate bar, dangling it in front of her. “I know. Thought maybe you might like some company instead.”

Chocolate. She’d told him she wanted chocolate instead of sex and he’d brought it to her. How can one man be so bloody perfect?

Snatching the chocolate bar from his hand, Alex reaches out and drags him inside by the neck of his jacket. The kiss she bestows on him is quick and hard, because she can’t figure out any other way to thank him that wouldn’t sound terribly clichéd. When she pulls away, licking her lips, Matt looks a little dazed, blinking at her.

Alex smiles. “Want to watch crap telly with me?”

“That’s why I’m here.”

They clamber onto the bed and rest their backs against the headboard, the bar of chocolate between them. Alex rests her head against Matt’s shoulder, chewing slowly on her piece of chocolate and tilting her face up to watch him while he channel surfs. Face illuminated in the eerie glow of the television screen, he somehow still manages to look painfully attractive and she smiles fondly up at him until he looks down and kisses her.

“You taste like chocolate,” he murmurs, licking at the corner of her mouth.

“Thanks to you,” she says, and the gratitude in her voice must be detectable because Matt smiles widely and kisses her again.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks after he pulls away. “Your bad day, I mean.”

Alex shakes her head and nicks the remote from him, tired of watching television programs flicker across the screen at a rapid pace. He steals a bite of her chocolate in retaliation. “Hey!” She hisses quietly, trying to scold him without waking Salome, a bed away. “That’s mine; you gave it to me. You can’t steal back your own gift.”

“It’s my gift,” he says. “I’ll take it back whenever I bloody well like.”

“You’ve already given it to me,” she argues. “It’s not yours anymore – you’ve forfeited all rights to the chocolate. You’re being a thief.”

“Yeah?” He asks, holding the chocolate bar aloft, above her head. “What’re you gonna do about it, Kingston?”

Alex squints at him, searching for the weak spot in his defenses. A sliver of pale stomach is on display because of his raised arm, and she smiles, moving in quickly. She pokes him in the side, laughing quietly as he gasps and squirms away, tossing the chocolate in her direction by total accident as he flails to keep himself from falling off the bed entirely.

Gasping in silent laughter into her pillow, tears in her eyes, Alex tries to catch her breath as he straightens and tugs at his jacket, trying to reclaim a bit of dignity. He fails spectacularly, but she says nothing. Glaring, he says, “That was dirty.”

“You took my chocolate,” she says defensively, holding it to her chest with one hand, even as she uses the other to wipe the tears from her eyes. “I simply used any means I saw necessary to get it back.”

Matt mutters something about ruthlessness, but Alex ignores his nervous suspicion as she inches closer to him, merely curving herself into his side and turning her attention back to the telly. When

he’s quite satisfied that she isn’t staging some sort of sneak attack, Matt slips an arm around her shoulders and tugs her closer.

For nearly an hour, they watch the late night news, giggling whenever the news anchor buggers up their cue or stumbles over a word. It’s quite peaceful and relaxing, having him with her. It almost feels like a normal relationship. She can’t help but wonder how he’d gotten away at such a late hour, and what Daisy must be doing but she can’t bring herself to ask and ruin the illusion of normality, however brief it might be. So instead, she says nothing and Matt offers no explanation.

When Alex yawns against his chest, Matt glances down at his watch. “Bugger,” he says. “Didn’t mean to stay this late. You should be in bed.”

“I’m not a child, you know,” she says, amidst another yawn. “I know when to go to bed.”

“Apparently not,” he shoots back, his movements slow and reluctant as he extricates himself from the bed and her arms. She feels colder without him beside her, and she briefly entertains the thought of pulling him under the blankets with her and sprawling all over him, letting him hold her through the night. It’s a silly notion and she tosses it away with a shake of her head.

Matt looks down at her with soft eyes, smiling. “Want me to tuck you in?”

“Not a child,” she grumbles again, remembering the last time he’d done so, and how nice it had felt, ignoring the small part of her wanting to say ‘yes’. Instead, she pulls herself from the bed to see him out. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

He nods, but as he places his hands on her waist, his eyes and all of his attention seems to be centered on her lips. “Tomorrow. Definitely.” And then his mouth is over hers, as if he can’t possibly be expected to wait another second to kiss her goodnight. She surrenders willingly, too sleepy to fight him for dominance tonight.

Though, Matt has always been good at changing her mind. He licks purposefully at the inside of her mouth and she feels a shiver of warmth makes its way through her whole body. His thumb sweeps across her hipbone in a light caress, and suddenly, she has never felt more awake in her life. She both hates and loves the way he can make her whole body tingle with desire -- from the ends of her hair to the tips of her toes, just with a simple touch. She slips a hand up his chest and into his hair, gripping a fistful and pressing her body into his.

Matt moans softly into her mouth, hands tightening on her hips as he backs her into the door. She

barely feels the awkward press of the doorknob into her lower back, too engrossed in Matt’s tongue against hers and the pressure of his fingers digging into her skin, the smell of his leather jacket and the rich chocolate they’d shared invading her senses.

She tugs at his hair a bit harder, wrapping a leg around his ankle. He stumbles into her, nipping gently at her bottom lip, his breath hot against her. Slowly, his hand slides across her hip, sneaking into the waistband of her sweatpants. Matt swallows her gasp in a fierce kiss and she feels her knees turn to jelly as his long fingers trail across her stomach and into her knickers.

Breaking away from their kiss with much effort, breathing ragged, she pants, “Wait. No.”

“Why not?” He asks, leaving a trail of biting kisses across her jaw and down her neck. “Want you so bloody much.”

Oh, not fair. She bites her lip and resists the urge to arch into his touch, warm all over and feeling bereft already, knowing he’ll be leaving her unsatisfied. “Salome.”

Matt freezes, his fingers halting so close to where she wants them to be, and still tangled together, they both turn to watch Salome, sleeping soundly in the bed only several feet away. Letting out a soft groan, Matt slips his hand from her trousers and rests his forehead against hers, shutting his eyes in frustration.

Laughing softly, Alex reaches up to stroke his cheek. “Sorry, dear.”

Matt opens his eyes and stares right into hers, and from this close, Alex feels a little winded by the amount of affection and good humor she sees there. “S’alright. Didn’t come here for that, anyway.” He smiles mischievously. “Would’ve just been one hell of a bonus.”

“Thank you,” she says, fiddling with the collar of his coat. “For coming here, I mean. You didn’t have to.”

Planting a teasing kiss on the tip of her nose, Matt says, “No, but I wanted to.” He pulls away, tugging fondly at a loose curl. “Night, Kingston.” He slips out the door and Alex stands in the doorway and watches him walk away until he disappears around the corner.

Arms wrapped around herself, Alex somehow feels more alone than before. Lips still tingling, she whispers to the empty corridor, "Goodnight."

whispers to the empty corridor, "Goodnight."

Chapter End Notes

Thank you all so much for comments and kudos -- they make us both very happy:) This chapter written by me, Friday. Chapter title comes from Use Somebody by Kings of Leon.

So many things we could do instead Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes

Chapter Eight: So many things we could do instead

“Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug!”

The pub music is so loud that Alex can barely hear the chanting going on around her, but she laughs anyway, watching Arthur struggle to beat Dave in downing his drink first. At least, with the beat pounding in her ears, she can’t hear whatever Daisy is saying to Matt right now, and considering the girl’s flirtatious smile, Alex is grateful her hearing is momentarily impaired.

Why had she decided to go out with them tonight? She could be sitting in her newly acquired townhouse right now, her daughter asleep in her bed and the television a soothing background noise as she reads. Instead, she’s sitting in a crowded booth across from Matt and his girlfriend. It might possibly be the most awkward situation Alex has been in since this affair started – and that’s including the time Steven almost caught them playing footsie under the table during a readthrough.

Alex smirks a little, suddenly aware of how to pass the time.

Slipping her foot from her chunky wedge, she slides her bare foot up Matt’s boot and into his trouser leg to caress his ankle. Across the table, Matt barely manages to contain a full-bodied jerk, his eyes going wide. Alex bites her lip to keep from laughing, keeping her eyes on the sight of Arthur and Dave competing.

Out of the corner of her eye, Alex sees Daisy lean in close to Matt again but it takes him several seconds to tear his eyes from her. When he does respond to Daisy, they share a quick kiss and Alex flexes her toes against Matt’s leg in irritation. Without looking at her, Matt wraps a leg around hers and jerks in an effort to stop her.

Yanked forward against her will, Alex bites down on the urge to yelp and tries to play off the sudden movement as one of her own choosing, resting her elbows on the table and leaning over, watching Arthur put down his glass, spluttering.

“Kingston,” Matt rumbles over the sound of the music. Alex glances in his direction and sees that

Daisy has gone. Foot between her legs on her seat, Matt leans forward and eyes her with a mixture of amusement and exasperation. “What exactly are you playing at?”

“What’s that?” She asks, cupping her hand around her ear, as though she can’t hear him over the music. Chuckling, she closes her thighs around his boot and trails her foot further up the inside of his leg.

Matt’s expression is one of annoyance but he can’t hide the darkening of his eyes or the flush in his cheeks. Smirking, Alex wiggles her toes against his knee, enjoying the feel of denim against her bare foot and watching his lips tighten.

“What’s going on here?” The chugging contest between Arthur and Dave is over and apparently, she and Matt are Karen’s new entertainment. The redhead watches them with blatant curiosity.

“Staring contest,” they say in unison.

Karen laughs and turns to get Arthur’s attention, and as the two debate on who will win and go as far as to bet money, Alex doesn’t take her eyes from Matt’s. His foot is still trapped between her thighs, though he isn’t exactly trying to escape. Her own foot continues up his thigh, achingly slowly, just to torture him. It might not be so fun tormenting Matt if his reactions weren’t so bloody sexy. He’s always a little rougher with her when she’s done something to frustrate him in public, and Alex can’t help but encourage it.

“Another staring contest?” Daisy slides into the booth next to Matt with her drink in hand. The irritation is plain as day in the tone of her voice but Alex can’t give in and glance in her direction. She can’t blame the girl; Alex wouldn’t be very happy to have her boyfriend constantly staring at another woman without blinking either.

It’s become a bit of a game between her and Matt, a way to flirt even with Daisy and everyone else around them. A silent but effective seduction. When Matt finally corners her tonight, his hands will be bruising on her hips, his mouth will be harsh against hers, and when his hips grind against hers, his voice will be gruff and commanding in her ear. Alex isn’t about to give that up just because Daisy disapproves of staring.

When Daisy places a hand on Matt’s thigh, Alex slides her foot further up the inside of his other thigh. She can feel Matt tense, and she watches the skin around his eyes tighten in fear even as he licks his lips with arousal. Alex bites down on a smile but doesn’t stop moving her foot, raising an eyebrow.

“If I forfeit,” Matt says, still not looking away. “Will you promise to stop, Kingston?”

“Stop what?” She asks, stilling her foot just short of his crotch and inches away from Daisy’s hand. The people around them have stilled, watching with confusion and listening with interest. They’re drawing far too much attention to themselves, but Alex can’t find it in herself to care. Not even with Daisy’s hand so close to her foot. If the girl glances at Matt’s lap, she’ll see Alex’s redpainted toes caressing the inside of Matt’s thigh.

Jaw tight, Matt says, “Teasing me, of course. My chin is not that big.”

Pressing her foot hard into his thigh and resisting the urge to slide it over just a few inches and press her heel into the crotch of his jeans, Alex smiles innocently. Matt bites at his lip in an effort not to close his eyes.

Tilting her head to one side, soft smile turning into a smirk against her will, she says, “Of course dear. I am a kind person, after all.”

Looking away from her, she hears Matt grumble, “I highly doubt that.”

At the loss of eye contact, Alex instantly takes her foot from his lap and opens her thighs, letting his booted foot drop back to the floor. Slipping her own foot back into her high-heeled wedge, Alex turns her attention back to Karen and Arthur.

Obviously feeling left out until now, Daisy cuddles into Matt’s side and presses her lips against his neck. Matt squirms against her for a moment before settling and Alex picks up her drink from the table, keeping her eyes to herself.

“Alright, what’s this I hear about you house hunting, Alex?” Karen asks around her straw. “There were pictures in the paper this morning and I didn’t even know you were looking!”

“Yeah, I meant to ask you about that when you came in,” Arthur says, leaning across the table. He eyes his empty glass with a nauseous frown. “I got a bit distracted.”

Karen nudges her. “So…are you moving back here?”

“No,” Alex laughs. “It’s just a little townhouse I’m renting so Salome and I have somewhere to stay besides a hotel when I’m filming here, especially since I’m signed up for even more episodes next season. Living out of a suitcase gets old after a while.”

“You know what this means, don’t you?” Karen asks, smiling brightly.

Alex shakes her head and she can’t help but return that contagious smile. “Please inform me, dear.”

“Slumber parties!” Karen says, clapping her hands. “Me, you, Salome and Arthur are going to have a sleepover and watch movies and -- ”

“Hold on,” Arthur says, holding up a hand. “Why am I included in this? And why isn’t Matt coming?”

Karen rolls her eyes. “Because this is going to be a family slumber party, numpty! Bonding time.”

Arthur stares at her. “You do know our last name is not Pond, right?”

Karen sticks out her tongue. Laughing at them behind her drink, Alex glances in Matt’s direction to find him gone. Daisy is by herself on the other side of the booth, texting furiously. As if feeling Alex’s eyes on her, she looks up. She offers a thin, uncomfortable smile before looking back down at her phone.

Not wanting to scan the room for him and make it obvious, Alex returns her attention to Karen and Arthur’s bickering and tries not to feel alone in a pub full of people.

XxX

This was a terrible idea. A terrible, terrible idea.

How is he supposed to sit next to his girlfriend and across from Alex in such a confined space without giving himself away?

Terrible, terrible idea.

Daisy is holding his hand, looking completely bored out of her mind with all the happenings around them. It makes him wonder why she continues to ask to come out with him and his coworkers, because every time she does, the entire time she’s there, she just wants to go home.

Such a buzz kill.

Holy hell, when did Alex take her wedges off?

Matt risks a glance in her direction, just as she’s looking away, and silently curses the smirk playing across her lips. He wants to tear her away from the rest of the group and bury his hands in those glorious curls. The feel of her manicured toes dragging across his calf sends a wave of pleasure through his body, and his trousers tighten considerably.

“Baby,” Daisy says, leaning over into his personal space (which should be hers, as well, right? He is her boyfriend) and kissing his cheek softly. “I’m going to go get another drink. Would you like something?”

He clears his throat, tearing his eyes from Alex’s neck (is that obvious?), and looks at Daisy. She’s really beautiful, in her own way, with long, gorgeous hair, but it’s straight. Not the curls he finds himself so deeply attracted to and wait, what did she ask him? Right, drinks.

“Uh, no, I’m good. Thanks, pet,” he says, chastely returning the kiss she places on his lips. He hides his grimace at the feel of Alex’s toes digging into his skin, and wraps his booted foot around her calf and tugs. She plays off the sudden movement by sitting forward in the booth, as if trying to get a better look at Arthur, who is now coughing around his beer.

This whole situation is comical, in hindsight, but tell that to his erection. Thank the lord for tables and dim lighting.

“Kingston,” he rumbles and she looks at him, perfectly sculpted eyebrow arched. He leans on the table, plopping his foot between her legs on the seat as he whispers over the dozens of voices in the pub, “What exactly are you playing at?”

“What’s that?” She asks with a chuckle, closing her thighs tightly around his boot. He fights the

urge to roll his eyes, because he is very certain she had heard him.

Their eyes remain locked as her bare foot ventures up the inside of his trousers, her smirk growing and his self-control shrinking. Karen notices the interaction, watching both of them intently.

“What’s going on here, then?” She asks, turning away from Dave and Arthur to face them more directly.

“Staring contest,” they speak in unison, and Matt almost looks away to judge the look on Karen’s face. She’s laughing, however, and calls Arthur over to them.

“Who do you think will win?” The ginger asks him, tugging on his arm to get him down to her level. “Alex must have more patience than him, hm?”

“I don’t know,” Arthur states contemplatively, “Matt certainly has a competitive streak.”

As Karen and Arthur continue their debate, Alex’s toes continue to push the leg of his trousers up. The idea of someone looking under the table at their entangled legs sends a rush of excitement down Matt’s spine, and he vaguely registers Daisy sitting back down next to him.

“Another staring contest?” Daisy exclaims, exasperated. “I swear, you two have broken the record for how many times you battle each other at this. Neither of you ever win.”

That seems to dishearten Karen, as she begins to bet with Arthur against Matt. The two pause, mid-shake, staring at Daisy.

“Neither of them, ever?” Karen whines, withdrawing her hand quickly.

“Nope,” Daisy sighs, taking a sip from her fruity drink. “The last time they did this was about twenty minutes ago. It lasted for ten whole minutes before I decided it was futile.”

Matt bites his lip, refraining from a smile. If only any of them knew.

His body goes rigid when he feels Daisy’s hand caress his thigh, thumb tracing circles very close to his crotch and Alex’s foot. Alex smirks, venturing higher and higher with her toes, inches away from his girlfriend’s hand.

“If I forfeit,” Matt speaks, unblinking eyes on Alex’s, “will you promise to stop, Kingston?”

“Stop what?” She asks with a laugh, foot stilling on his leg. He can see Karen’s questioning gaze in the corner of his eye, and knows Daisy’s eyes are locked on the side of his face. Way to bring attention to the situation, Matt. Really, good job.

“Teasing me, of course,” he speaks as honestly as he can. He quickly adds, “My chin is not that big.”

The mischief in her eyes is blatant as she presses her foot down into his thigh, almost right next to Daisy’s hand. His skin tightens as fear and arousal shoot through him, and he bites down on his lip harshly.

“Of course, dear,” she murmurs, tilting her head to the side with a smirk. “I am a kind person, after all.”

“Highly doubt that,” he grumbles, looking away from her. The moment he does, her foot is off his person and he immediately misses it.

“Finally,” Daisy says, obviously relieved. He winces at the sound of her voice. He’s not oblivious to the fact that his ‘staring contests’ with Alex bother her, and he silently wonders what her reaction would have been if she knew how close the older woman’s foot had been to his crotch; to her hand.

He shakes the thought as quickly as it enters his mind, allowing Daisy to snuggle into his side while trying to subtly adjust his jeans.

He’s definitely going to need to go to the loo in a moment.

He lets the conversation carry on, Alex giving details on her new townhouse (which he knows all about), before he’s nudging Daisy out of the booth. He makes his way to the loo, weaving in and out of the crowd. Finally through the doors of safety, he locks himself in one of the rarely used stalls.

stalls.

Just as he’s about to release himself from his jeans, his phone vibrates within his pocket. Pulling it out, he frowns when Daisy’s name shows up, signaling a text.

‘Please don’t leave me out here for too long.’

He can’t fight off the wave of anger he gets from reading that message. With quick fingers, he types back, ‘If you didn’t want to be around them, you shouldn’t have come along.’

Matt’s about to forgo his quick release, opting to return to where his obviously bitchy girlfriend sits amongst his friends, when he gets another text. This time, it’s not from Daisy, but Alex.

‘Daisy just stormed out of here. What’d you do this time?’

He has half a mind to call Daisy, but figures this is a blessing in a disguise. If she’s pissed off enough to leave without telling him, then he’s definitely going to be facing an argument when he returns home. Might as well make the best of it before he gets to that point.

‘She was being unreasonable and I pointed it out’, Matt texts back, unlocking the stall door. He looks down at his trousers, noting that his problem hasn’t disappeared in his few minutes of anger and he sighs.

Nothing can dissuade his reaction to Alex, besides her.

Idea forming quickly in his mind, Matt smirks as he awaits her next text, leaning against the sink. He isn’t waiting for long, because soon his phone is vibrating in his hand.

‘You should know better when it comes to a woman. Have I taught you nothing?’

‘I suppose not. Why don’t you come teach me a lesson?’

A man walks in then, looking at Matt as if he had two heads. Matt thinks that he must look a bit odd, just standing around the toilets, texting on his phone, but the promise of getting Alex alone is

too delicious to pass up.

Matt can’t say he’s ever had sex in a public loo before.

There’s a first time for everything, he thinks, when Alex’s reply comes through.

‘Give me five minutes.’

XxX

The moment the other man leaves the toilets, Alex is poking her head through the door. Her eyes are questioning as they scan the entirety of the room, looking for any other occupants.

“There’s no one else in here, Kingston,” Matt grins from his perch against the counter. She quirks an eyebrow, entering the room fully. With her back against the door, she clicks the lock, and the heat in her gaze nearly brings him to his knees. For a moment, he takes her in. The low-cut top she’s wearing dips just between her breasts, and the black skirt hits the middle of her thighs. And those strappy shoes, hiding the beautiful toes that had tortured him so earlier. He starts towards her, a mischievous smirk clouding his face.

“This is going to have to be quic--” Alex doesn’t have time to finish her sentence, because then he’s on her, mouth attacking hers eagerly as he slams his body into hers. She gasps into his mouth and he swallows the delicious sound. He buries his hands in her hair, tugging at her roots, and her hands come up, pulling his head closer. Their tongues battle for dominance, Matt quickly winning when he licks at the back of her front teeth.

They break apart reluctantly, air quickly becoming an issue, and he stares down at her, taking in the flush of her cheeks and her puffy lips. She’s gasping for air, hooded eyes unfocused on his face. He grinds his erection into her, reveling in the sound she makes.

“God,” he breathes, kissing her again with harsh nips and swift swipes of his tongue. “You get off on teasing me, don’t you? You bloody love getting me so hard for you around everyone else.”

She chuckles, the sound turning into a soft mewl when his hands travel across the front of her low-cut shirt. He flicks both thumbs across her hard nipples, shivering when her tongue slides across his ear.

“You’re right,” she gasps in his ear, trailing her nails down his back, digging deep into his shirt. “I get so wet, just knowing it’s me you want.”

He growls, hands moving to her bum to lift her up harshly. He slams her harder against the door, attacking her throat with open-mouthed kisses. The position causes his erection to press more directly into her core as her skirt bunches up around her hips. She grips his shoulders tightly, head tossing back and forth as he relentlessly thrusts his hips into hers.

“And,” he bites out, burying his face in her neck. He can feel the heat of her through her knickers, uncaring as her juices slowly dampen the front of his jeans. “This stupid skirt. So short, showing off those amazing legs.”

“Shut up,” she moans, pushing her hips into his in an attempt to get him to continue his previous actions, “and fuck me.”

With a groan, he pulls them away from the door, fingers gripping her thighs tight enough to leave bruises, and spins them around. He drops her onto the counter, tugging at her black thong with impatient hands. She lifts her arse from the counter as best as she can, and soon it’s sliding off her legs. Without thinking, he stuffs it into his back pocket before dropping to crouch in front of her, tugging her closer to the edge.

“Matt, we don't have ti- ohh,” she breaks off, burying her hands into his hair as his mouth devours her pussy. He wraps his lips around her clit, tugging at it with his teeth. He is never going to get over the taste of her -- such a bittersweet flavor. He tongues at her entrance, thrusting in and out, lapping at the continuous taste.

She’s grinding carelessly against his mouth, back bent and her head repeatedly bangs against the mirror. Her legs widen and she tucks one foot under the sink. The other rests against his crotch, pressing down almost hard enough to hurt. He grinds against it as he returns his attention to her clit, licking at the swollen nub over and over. Two slim fingers make their way inside her heat, curling to prod at her g-spot. The action causes her to shatter, legs jerking with the force of her climax. Her back arches further into the air, her loud moan like music to his ears, and he quickly replaces his fingers with his tongue, catching her essence in his mouth.

“Want you,” she whimpers, tugging his head up by his ears. He kisses her when he straightens, taking pleasure in the fact that he still has her taste on his tongue. Her hands fumble with his zipper, but soon his trousers and pants are around his thighs and she’s guiding him inside.

“Ugnn,” Alex sighs. An arm wraps around his neck, the other holding her upright, and she tugs him in for another kiss, this one wet and sloppy as he slowly enters her. When he’s finally buried balls deep within her, they let out a collective groan.

“Love the way you feel,” he grunts, eyes rolling back in his head when her nails dig into his neck. Matt pulls out nearly all the way, biting down on her lip when she clenches tight around the head of his cock. He slams back in, and she hits the mirror with the force of it. She grimaces, but holds him tight to her, meeting him thrust for thrust.

“Ma-att,” she moans, and it’s beautiful, the way she draws his name out like that. As if he’s the only one that matters.

Her slick walls quiver around him, and he wraps his hands around her waist, holding her still as he pounds into her with abandon. Head bent, he watches as his cock disappears into her pussy, over and over, finding the sight to be incredibly hot.

She’s always so wet, just for him.

Her teeth sink into his ear, tugging at it. Gasps and moans fill his ears, and he knows she is close, with the way her entire body quakes around him, with him. Her nails are buried deep in the flesh of his neck, the pain heightening the pleasure he’s feeling and causing his balls to tighten.

“Alex,” he groans, head against her collarbone. “I’m gonna…”

“Mmnn,” she hums, licking and nipping at his cheek, “touch me.”

He obliges, sliding his fingers down between their bodies and flicking them over her clit. She rocks against him uncontrollably, walls clenching. She gasps out his name like a mantra, body going rigid as she comes, violently. He lifts his head, capturing her open mouth with his. His tongue swipes across her mouth in a frenzy, the spasms of her pussy driving him over the edge. She swallows his loud groan, bringing her arm up to wrap securely around his neck with the other as they slowly ride out their highs.

His hips finally stop, breath mingling with hers while they regain their right minds. He pulls away, noticing the small disapproving noise she makes when he leaves her body. Leaning over her, he grabs a couple of paper towels, wetting them in the automatic sink that Alex is nearly inside of, before proceeding to clean them up.

“Mm, I really, really enjoy torturing you,” she states when she’s back on her feet. Matt rolls his eyes, allowing her to readjust his clothing. He tugs her skirt back down and for a moment, they stand there with lingering hands and soft kisses.

Soft fingers swipe across his neck and she worries her bottom lip.

“I really need to be more careful,” Alex states quietly, green eyes meeting his. He shrugs, wrapping his arms around her waist.

“I can just say Kaz got me in a headlock.”

“Yes, and she’s mean enough to dig her nails into your skin so hard they leave welts? Doesn’t quite sound like Karen to me, sweetie. Besides, what will you say to Karen, then?”

“I‘ll say you did the same thing. Excuses work on everyone, Kingston, you just gotta know what you‘re doing,” he laughs, kissing her again before pulling away. “Might want to get out of here, now. There could be a line outside.”

“Which is going to make me leaving the men’s loo so much less suspicious,” she states with a grimace.

“I’ll hide out in one of the stalls, so it’ll look like you just wanted some privacy.”

“And why was I in the men’s toilers when the women’s are directly across the way?”

“That’s for you to decide,” Matt smirks, watching as she walks towards the door. He stops her before she reaches it, spinning her around to kiss her again. She hums into the kiss, tugging him closer by the waist of his jeans before pulling away.

“Shoo, into the stall with you,” she smiles, waving him away with her hands.

He chuckles, eyes never leaving hers until the stall door is shut and locked.

“See you in a few, love,” she says, and then she’s gone.

While standing in a highly unsanitary stall, waiting for the right time to leave, Matt decides that he really, really loves it when she tortures him, too.

XxX

Thankfully, there isn’t a huge line outside when Alex leaves – only one man, standing with his arms folded and looking cross. Alex offers him a tiny, apologetic smile. “Sorry. Other one was occupied and I really had to go.”

She slips past him, biting her lip to keep from laughing, and returns to the table where her friends wait. It isn’t until she’s sitting in the booth again, Karen pressed against her side and snorting with laughter as Arthur tries to recreate the Giggle Loop with empty mugs, that Alex realizes she isn’t wearing knickers.

Horrified, she remembers Matt yanking them roughly down her legs and stuffing them into the back pocket of his jeans. She feels heat flood her face at the memory and she reaches up a hand to cover her blush.

“You alright?” Karen asks, still laughing a little as she turns from Arthur. “You look a bit flushed.”

Alex nods, picking up her drink and taking a long swill. “Fine,” she chokes out, slamming her empty glass onto the table.

Feeling fingers in her hair, she tries to look at Karen, but the redhead stops her with a stern, “Hold still!”

“What is it?” She asks, nervous. Surely Matt would have noticed something caught in her hair? Oh, who is she kidding? She could have walked out of the loo with a wet spot on her skirt and he wouldn’t have noticed. The man is oblivious.

“Quit squirming, it’s fine,” Karen assures her. “Your hair is just a bit flat in the back. What did you do to it? It was fluffy as a kitten ten minutes ago!”

A sudden image flashes across her mind of clinging to Matt and being shoved first against the bathroom door and then repeatedly against the mirror over the sink. Alex fights the urge to shut her eyes in mortification. “It’s the humidity in here. Hell on the hair.”

“All better,” Karen says with a smile, pulling away.

“Thanks.” Alex slumps into the booth, the combination of sudden anxiety and her encounter with Matt leaving her boneless.

“What’d I miss?” The devil himself slips into the booth across from her, shirt a little wrinkled and his hair marvelously ruffled. His eyes are bright and his smile is rather too dopey for someone who has just made a trip to the loo and stumbled over a table leg on his way back. He looks like a little boy who has just gotten an iced lolly for good behavior.

Smirking a little, Alex nudges him with her foot under the table. He glances at her, cheeks flushed and smile dimpled, and she brings a subtle hand up to her hair, smoothing it back. Realization dawning, Matt looks away quickly, turning to Arthur as their friend begins to explain the giant tower of cups in front of him, but he reaches up a hand to smooth back his hair, mouth twitching.

As Matt gestures wildly and almost sends the tower toppling to the floor, she pulls her phone from her bag. Arthur is in the middle of shooing Matt away from his creation as Alex angles the phone subtly away from Karen and types out a message. ‘Anything in your back pocket, by any chance?’

Thankfully, Matt’s phone is on vibrate and only she notices when he receives the message. He starts a little in his seat, hand reaching into his pocket for his mobile. Smirking down at his screen, his eyes mischievous, Matt types out a quick response before turning back to Arthur.

Her phone buzzes and Alex glances down at her lap.

‘A souvenir.’

She frowns. ‘Hand them over, baby face.’

‘What? Now?’

‘You’re not keeping them!’

‘Why not? Black is my color.’

‘Give me my knickers.’

‘Make me.’

‘Stop being a child!’

‘If I’m a child, then you’re a sick woman, Kingston.’

Frustrated and unable to show it to his smirking face in front of all these people, Alex cannot contain herself any longer and she kicks him hard in the shin under the table. She bites down on her lip as Matt stifles a pained groan, glaring at her.

He’s annoyed with her for the rest of the evening, sending her an irritated glower whenever she looks in his direction, but at the end of the night, when he gives her a public, friendly hug goodbye, she feels him slip his hand into her bag before quickly snaking back out again.

She smiles into his shoulder. “Thank you.”

“Spoilsport,” he murmurs, pouting. “Can I keep them next time?”

“Maybe.” Alex pulls away from his embrace and pats him on the cheek with Karen and Arthur looking on. “If you’re a good boy.”

Chapter End Notes

A/N – Thank you all so much for the kudos! If you’ve never seen Coupling, you should look up the Giggle Loop on youtube to understand what Arthur was doing with those mugs. Also, I completely forgot to mention this but the last chapter and this one were beta’d for us by Trialia, who kindly pointed out all of our American mistakes. We are incredibly grateful for her help. And she’s so quick! Chapter title comes from the song Faster Kill Faster by Paul Oakenfield and Brittany Murphy. Brinney wrote everything from Matt’s point of view and I wrote everything from Alex’s.

Yours are the sweetest eyes Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes

Alex feels like death.

She’s pretty sure she looks like it too.

Curled up on the sofa in her townhouse, wrapped in blankets and clutching a handful of tissues, she stares sleepily at her television and tries not to let out a pitiful whine of misery because it’s just pathetic when there’s no one around to hear it. Instead, she sneezes again and it just makes the pain in her head that much worse. She groans, burrowing further into her blankets and wanting nothing more than to just die.

When her mobile phone rings, she considers not answering it but Salome is with her father this week and if it’s her calling for any reason at all, then Alex wants to answer it – if only to hear her daughter’s voice. It gets lonely around here without her.

Blindly reaching for the ringing phone on her coffee table, despite the way her whole body aches at any movement whatsoever, Alex retrieves her phone and hurriedly slips her exposed arm back under the fuzzy blankets. “Hello?” She answers, but her head is full of cotton and her nose is stuffy so she’s pretty sure it comes out sounding rather more like, ‘Heddo’. She’s too miserable to care.

“Alex?” On the other end of the line, Matt’s voice makes her smile despite herself. “You sound bloody awful! Where are you?”

“I called in sick today,” she explains, sniffling. “I have the flu.”

“Ah,” Matt says understandingly. “Got it from Salome, did you?”

Alex nods before she remembers that he can’t see her. “Apparently.” She sneezes. “Sorry.”

“Do you need anything?” He asks. “Want me to come over and pick up Salome? She can hang

out on set with me today.”

“She’s with Florian,” Alex says, coughing into her tissue.

“So you’re there by yourself?” Matt asks, and his concern would have been heartwarming if Alex didn’t suddenly feel like she might be sick. “Do you have a fever? Have you taken anything?”

“I’m going to have to call you back,” she says slowly, cautiously lifting herself out of her nest of blankets and fighting down the growing nausea she feels as she tries to make her way to the toilet in time. She clings to the walls to keep herself upright, far too weak and dizzy to stand on her own.

“Why?”

“Because if you stay on the phone any longer you’re going to hear me throw up,” she says, feeling uncomfortably warm all over. “Have fun today, dear.”

She hangs up the phone, dropping it to the floor and reaching the toilet just as her body begins to heave.

XxX

Sweaty, aching, and light-headed, Alex makes it back to the living room half an hour later. She still feels wretched, but her stomach is mercifully settled – for the moment, anyway.

Just about to climb back into her blankets and curl up, waiting for the misery to stop, she pauses at the sound of the doorbell. Mumbling to herself about never getting a moment’s peace – she’s still stuffed up so it comes out more like ‘neber geddin’ a mobet’s peas’ – Alex stumbles to the door with the helpful assistance of the wall.

When she swings open the door to find Matt standing there with a bag from Tesco in hand, she can only stare in horror. She must look a fright – her hair a knotted mess around her head, her eyes watery and puffy, nose bright red from sniffling, and dressed in sweatpants and an oversized sweatshirt. She clutches her handful of tissues in a closed fist and doesn’t know what to say.

“You look delightful,” Matt says, grinning.

“Bite me,” she returns, sneezing.

Frowning when she stumbles into the wall, Matt takes her by the elbow. “What are you doing out of bed, anyway? Can’t even bloody stand up straight.”

“Some inconsiderate twat rang the doorbell,” she says, letting him guide her back to the sofa.

“Don’t you hate it when that happens?” He asks, and he sounds so ruddy cheerful that Alex wants to punch him, except his hand is strong where it cups her elbow and his eyes are gentle as he helps her to lie down and brings the blankets up to her chin.

“What are you doing here?” She asks. “You’re supposed to be on set today.”

“Can’t do my scenes without you,” he says, and that’s a lie, because he’s supposed to be filming with Karen and Arthur today, but Alex is too tired and sick to press him about it.

“What’s in the bag?” She asks instead, eyeing it with growing suspicion.

Matt smiles and sits on the edge of the sofa, reaching inside and pulling out everything inside one by one and listing them as he goes, dumping them into her lap. “Tissues, medicine, magazines, a bucket in case you get sick again so you don’t have to run to the loo, crackers, and ginger ale. Oh, and a party hat because they were on sale.”

He drops the hat onto her head and smiles while Alex glares up at him weakly. “I must say, it looks quite fetching on you.”

“I hate you,” she mumbles, burrowing further into her blankets and shutting her eyes as a harsh cough racks her body. She feels Matt’s cool hand against her forehead, and she groans as the coughing fit subsides, swatting his hand and the party hat away. “Go away. You’re going to get sick too.”

Matt laughs softly, and the hand on her forehead turns into a caress against her cheek. “If sitting in the waiting room at the hospital with Salome, letting her cough into my neck, hasn’t given me the

flu, I don’t think I’m going to get it.”

Alex smiles sleepily, remembering how worried she’d been over Salome’s high fever and how Matt had taken them to the hospital and sat in the waiting room with Salome in his lap, murmuring soothingly to her while Alex stood at the desk and filled out forms. His help had been invaluable and she knows Matt is going to make a patient, brilliant father one day.

She isn’t sure if it’s the thought of Matt being a father – off and away from her and her daughter – or if it’s just this horrid virus, but she suddenly feels like she’s going to be sick and the thought is horrifying. She does not need Matt to see that.

Waving him away, she says, “Go. I’m going to be sick.”

Matt leaps for the bucket he’d put aside and holds it under her head, stroking her hair back from her forehead with the other hand. “I’m not leaving you here to be sick and miserable on your own.”

Before Alex can protest, she’s throwing up into the bucket, silently mortified while her body empties itself of what little remains in her stomach. Matt holds her hair back, murmuring soothingly to her and seemingly not disgusted at all. She was right – fatherhood is going to suit him beautifully. When she’s done, Matt hands her a ginger ale to rinse her mouth and then takes the bucket into the kitchen.

“Where’s the bloody tea?”

Alex laughs quietly, settling back into the sofa cushions and listening to him finding his way around her kitchen.

“Ah, found it!”

When he returns with a steaming mug and a plate of crackers, Alex sighs, sniffling into a tissue. “You don’t have to do this, you know. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

“Uh-huh,” he says absently, setting his provisions down on the coffee table and pulling out a packet of pills. “And have you taken any medicine or are you just wallowing about in pain without doing anything about it?”

She frowns, feeling like a chastised child. “I would have gotten around to it.”

“Thought so,” Matt murmurs, handing her two pills and her tea. “Take these, bloody impossible woman.”

Too weak to protest, she swallows the pills down obediently and Matt takes the tea from her, putting it next to her ginger ale. “You can go now,” she says when he hands her a cracker, though she wants nothing more than to pull him under the blankets with her and fall asleep with her head against his chest. She hates being alone when she’s sick.

“I already told you, I’m not leaving you.” Matt sits on the edge of the sofa and taps her red nose playfully. “Is there a reason you’re so eager to get rid of me, Kingston?”

She coughs feebly. “Don’t want you to get sick. And you need to go back to work – it’s important.”

Matt hums thoughtfully, toeing off his boots and pulling back her blankets. Alex almost wants to cry with relief as he reclines on the sofa, pulling her into him and covering them both with the blanket. She shivers, sniffling as she fists his shirt in her hand and shuts her eyes. Matt presses a kiss to the top of her head. “Nowhere’s more important than here, love.”

Alex sighs as the medicine begins to take effect, making her drowsy – or perhaps it’s just the comfort of Matt’s presence. “You’re rather wonderful, you know,” she says, yawning.

Matt chuckles and with her ear pressed to his chest, she feels it rumble through him. “I want to hear you say that again when you’re not sick and drugged.”

“Mmm.”

Everything is warm and fuzzy. Matt’s breath tickles her hair, and her head rises and falls with his every breath. His arms are warm and comforting around her, and Alex has never felt so taken care of.

She feels the rumble of Matt’s voice again as he begins to murmur softly into her hair, lulling her to sleep with an old Elton John song. “It’s a little bit funny, this feeling inside. I’m not one of those

who can easily hide. I don’t have much money, but girl, if I did, I’d buy a big house where we both could live.”

Giggling into his chest, she loosens her tight grip on his shirt and just listens to the comforting sound of his voice in her ear. His voice is soft and smooth, soothing in a way nothing else could ever be. In the safety of his arms and wrapped in a cocoon of blankets, Alex is asleep before Matt even reaches the chorus.

“I hope you don’t mind that I put down in words, how wonderful life is while you’re in the world.”

Chapter End Notes

Thanks you for the kudos and thanks to Trialia for editing this for us! This chapter written entirely by me, Friday. And the chapter title obviously comes from the Elton John’s Your Song.

So much lighter since I met you Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes

Chapter Ten: So much lighter since I met you

Alex spends two hours before Matt comes over tidying up her house – the last time he was here, she had been a mess and so had her house. It’s not the sort of impression she wants him to have of the place where she lives. Part time, anyway. Marie, the housekeeper, had left in the afternoon but somehow, the house had managed to fall into disarray once more. With only herself and Salome around, Alex can’t help but wonder how they manage to make such a mess.

Having straightened the sofa cushions, put away Salome’s paint supplies, shoved the laundry into the utility room and shut the door behind it, Alex walks into the kitchen to do a quick once-over and discovers Salome’s crayons and colored pencils spilled out all over the counter and her daughter nowhere in sight.

“Salome!” she shouts. “What did I tell you about leaving your things out when you’re through with them?”

“Sorry!” The doorbell rings and Alex sighs, running an agitated hand through her hair. From upstairs, Salome shouts, “I’ll get it!” Alex hears thundering footsteps overhead and then racing down the stairs before skidding to a stop at the front door. “Matty!”

“There’s my poppet!”

Smiling at the sound of Salome’s squeal of delight, as Matt no doubt lifts her into the air, Alex shakes her head and moves toward the kitchen counter, beginning to pick up the rest of Salome’s art supplies and bits of colored sugar paper.

“Where’s your mummy, eh?”

“In the kitchen, being cross with me.”

Matt laughs and Alex rolls her eyes, shoving crayons back into their box. “Ms. Kingston, what’s this I hear about you being cross?”

this I hear about you being cross?”

Alex looks up and finds Matt standing in the doorway, Salome clinging to his neck. She feels most of her irritation melt away at the sight and she smiles, setting down the box and figuring Matt probably doesn’t care about a bunch of crayons on her counter.

In jeans and one of those v-neck T-shirts he’s so fond of, sunglasses dangling from the neck of his shirt and his hair falling into his eyes, Matt watches her with obvious fondness, his eyes twinkling with amusement. Alex suddenly wishes Salome wasn’t in between them, so she could pull him to her and kiss that daft expression off his face.

“I’m never cross,” she says instead.

Matt raises an eyebrow and he and Salome exchange looks of disbelief. Alex bursts into laughter and tosses a crayon at them. “Oh shut up, the pair of you.”

Grinning, Matt sets Salome down, and she hops over to the bar stool and begins tearing methodically at a piece of sugar paper. Alex puts the crayons back for her daughter’s use and wanders into the living room, knowing Matt will follow.

He does, coming up behind her and sliding his arms around her waist. His lips press insistently at the back of her neck, long fingers pushing her hair out of the way so he can mouth at her skin. “Hello,” he greets warmly, smiling against her.

Alex smiles, sliding her hands down to cover his at her stomach and tilting her head to let him continue his very welcome ministrations. “Hello.”

“Miss me?”

“Oh, terribly,” she laughs. “Thank goodness you arrived when you did. I was about to faint from longing for you.”

Matt snorts into her hair. “If you’re going to be rude, I can just go.”

Turning in his arms, Alex leans up and presses her lips against his. “Not until you’ve made dinner,” she mumbles against his lips, grinning when she feels Matt smile against her mouth.

“Cheeky,” he says, before he pulls her closer, and for a few minutes, she’s too busy to say anything else.

--

In bare feet and jeans rolled up at the ankles as he stands in front of her open kitchen cabinets and stares into them, as if willing her empty cupboards to produce something edible, Matt looks entirely at home. Alex ignores the odd little thrill she gets at the thought that he looks like he belongs there.

“Your cupboards are appallingly bare,” Matt declares, turning to glare at her.

Salome giggles from her spot sitting on top of the counter, and Alex holds up her hands in defense. “I haven’t had time to grocery shop – we’ve been ordering in.”

“Your poor child,” he mumbles, ruffling Salome’s hair as he passes her to open the fridge again. “Well not tonight, Salome! Matty is going to make you something that doesn’t involve a takeaway menu.”

Salome looks delighted at the thought of Matt cooking, and she swings her legs in excitement, her feet hitting the cabinets. “Can we have spaghetti? Please Matty?”

Matt turns to throw an accusing look at Alex once more. “No minced beef, poppet. Are you alright with just tomato sauce?”

Salome nods, and Matt begins to search for everything he’ll need, rummaging around and mumbling to himself about unfit parents. Alex rolls her eyes at him and kisses Salome’s temple. “I’m sorry I’m such a terrible mother, darling.”

“It’s alright, mom,” Salome beams.

“Can’t buy me love, love. Can’t buy me love --”

Matt has switched on the CD player next to the jar of big wooden spoons – a compilation of Beatles classics – and is in the middle of foraging for the appropriate spoon and singing along, hips swaying a little.

Alex begins to laugh even as he turns on the spot and fixes her with a disapproving glare. He tosses a spoon to Salome and says, “Be my backup, poppet?”

Giggling, Salome hops off the counter with her spoon and Matt takes her hand, twirling her around the kitchen in her mismatched socks and sweat outfit.

“I’ll give you all I’ve got to give, if you say you love me too. I may not have a lot to give, but what I’ve got I’ll give to you.”

Matt and Salome are singing into their wooden spoons and dancing around the kitchen, and Alex can’t remember the last time she laughed so hard. Tears in her eyes, she can do nothing but play along when Matt takes her hand and pulls her up, holding her to him as Salome twirls around them.

“Sing it, Kingston,” he murmurs into her ear over the music, and he puts the spoon to her lips, smiling brilliantly.

For a moment, Alex is breathless with how mad she is for this total lunatic in her kitchen, but when he quirks an eyebrow in challenge, she has no choice but to open her mouth and sing along.

“I don’t care too much for money, money can’t buy me love.”

--

Much later, after a rousing rendition of Yellow Submarine and Hey Jude, the three of them prepare to sit down to a dinner of Matt’s “special” spaghetti, though what makes his particular combination of pasta and sauce different from any other, Alex can’t begin to guess.

When she asks, Matt merely taps her on the nose and says, “It’s a secret.”

Salome is busy setting the table, still humming under her breath, so Alex steps close to Matt. His

hand is instantly on her hip, pulling her closer. “You’re not going to tell me?”

He shakes his head, his eyes alight with amusement. “Maybe someday. When you’ve been a very good girl.”

More than anything, Alex wants to lean up and bite his bottom lip and Matt looks like he wouldn’t be opposed to the idea at all but the sudden clatter of cutlery sends them jumping apart guiltily.

Salome picks up the fork she dropped and takes it to the sink before getting a new one. “Where did you learn to cook, Matty?”

Clearing his throat and distancing himself from Alex, Matt says, “My mum taught me. Not much, just enough to get by in life without starving.”

“Mom, how come you don’t teach me how to cook?” Salome asks, beginning to fold the napkins.

“Because first she’d have to know how, poppet,” Matt says and ducks with a shout of laughter when Alex throws a plastic cup at his head.

“You are horrible,” she says, grinning.

“Says the woman who just threw a cup at my head,” Matt points out, pulling a bottle of wine from the fridge for the two of them, and a carton of grape juice for Salome.

“It was entirely deserved.” Alex leaves him to pour wine in their glasses and takes the juice to the table, pouring some into Salome’s glass before taking a seat.

“Mommy makes the best chocolate chip cookies ever,” Salome insists and Alex takes some comfort in the fact that she hasn’t completely lost her daughter’s loyalty to Matt.

“Thank you darling,” she says.

Matt sets a glass of wine in front of her and Alex smiles up at him in thanks. “Chocolate chip,

huh?” He asks, looking thoughtful. “You wouldn’t happen to have an urge to bake this evening, would you Kingston?”

Taking a sip of her wine, Alex taps her fingers against the table. “Well, I’d have to know how first. Can’t even begin to imagine how to turn the oven on.”

Matt pouts at her and she laughs. “Please? Biscuits? Please?”

“I don’t have any ingredients,” she insists. “There’s a packet of Jammie Dodgers in the kitchen somewhere. Have those.”

Looking to Salome, whose mouth is full of pasta, Matt asks, “How do you live with her? She’s terribly inadequate.”

“Oh thank you,” she says dryly, and Matt grins at her. “Just see if I invite you to dinner again.”

“Some invitation,” he says. “I cooked!”

“Have I thanked you yet?” She asks, and when Matt shakes his head, she runs a bare foot over his calf under the table. His eyes widen. “Then remind me to do that later.”

Matt swallows, reaching for his wine. “Will do,” he says, voice squeaking.

Alex smiles and takes a bite of her pasta.

After dinner and dessert – Matt had only eaten a Jammie Dodger once she’d promised to bake him biscuits in the immediate future – they had played a game of cards around the kitchen table and Salome had beaten them both with embarrassing ease. When Matt grew tired of losing to a tenyear-old, he’d turned on the stereo again and waltzed them both around the kitchen and through the living room to music absolutely not meant for waltzing, like the Ramones. Breathless with laughter, Alex had clung to him as he danced her about, and she couldn’t help but wish every night could be like this.

Now, with Matt waiting for her in the next room, Alex puts an exhausted but overexcited Salome to bed. Tucking the blankets up to her chin, Alex kisses her daughter on the forehead and reaches

over to turn out the light. “Mom?”

“Mmm?” She asks, stroking her daughter’s hair back from her face.

“That was fun.”

She smiles. “It was, wasn’t it?”

Between work and traveling back and forth, and Salome’s schoolwork and just everyday life, she sometimes forgets to have fun with her daughter. To stop being such an adult and dance around her house and sing into a spoon. Life should have more moments like those. Matt is slowly teaching her that, gifting her with these precious little memories.

Salome yawns, burrowing further into her covers. “Can we have Matty over for dinner all the time?”

Slowly, Alex’s smile fades around the edges and she watches her daughter drift off to sleep, contented smile still on her face. She sighs and turns out the light, murmuring, “I wish we could, darling.”

--

Matt relaxes back into the recliner, remote in hand, as he waits for Alex to come back from tucking in Salome. Today has been one of the best days he’s had in quite a while. It's not often he and Alex are able to spend time with each other outside a hotel room, or on the set, and when they do, it's always fantastic. Especially when Salome is involved. She always has a new game she wants to try, or a drawing she wants him to help with. She's gotten rather good at painting daisies and he can't help but feel a sort of pride in the fact that he helped her achieve that.

When Alex reenters the living room, she is wearing his boxers (which he absolutely adores) and a tank top. He opens his arms, motioning for her to come sit in his lap. She smiles at him, moving to sit herself on top of him. Once she’s settled, she takes the remote from his hands, places a small kiss on his mouth, and turns to the television.

“Let’s see what’s on telly, hm?” She suggests, wiggling deeper into his embrace. He'd tell her not to do that if he thought it would help, but with her, anything ignites his attraction to her, so he merely lets it go.

merely lets it go.

“Nothing exciting,” he tells her with a pout, running his fingers down her sides. She giggles softly before pushing his hands away.

“There must be something on that you’re willing to watch. These adverts are simply boring,” she chastises, flicking through the channels.

“I really don’t mind what we watch,” Matt sighs, rubbing her knee. Her legs are draped across his lap, hanging off the arm of the chair. He’s never been more comfortable in his life.

“Of course you don’t,” Alex groans, dropping the remote into her lap. “You know, I thought Salome would never go to sleep. You spoil her too much, especially with that singing battle game.”

He laughs softly, mindful of the sleeping child down the hall. “You’re just jealous that we won.”

She rolls her eyes, turning to watch the advert that she seemingly couldn‘t escape. Matt takes the opportunity to lick her pulse point purposefully, tugging her body closer into his.

“Stop that,” Alex moans quietly, tilting her head to give him more access. She’s really a walking contradiction, he thinks.

“You sing beautifully,” he breathes into her neck. He wraps his arms around her waist and rests his head on her shoulder. “What else do you do, besides act and sing?”

“Full-time mother, part-time madwoman,” she says as she places a kiss to his temple. He likes this. He didn’t have to lie to Daisy to come over here tonight, because she was away for work. He even cooked, which he hardly ever does.

“Apart from the obvious,” he amends, biting her skin softly, quickly licking at the light red mark he leaves. “What do you like to do?”

She slides her hand into his, pulling his arm up so she can watch as their fingers entwine with each other. “Why don’t you just Google me?”

He chuckles, running his thumb across the palm of her open hand. “Because I want to hear it from you, pet.”

He can practically hear her eyes roll. She does that far too often around him, but he finds it sort of endearing, like most things she does. Like when she talks to him when she’s sleeping, as if she’s always aware when he’s around, or when she quirks her shapely eyebrow. Or when she’s frustrated, she pulls her hair back as if it is the cause of all her troubles.

“Well, I enjoy cleaning,” she murmurs, rolling her head to look at him. “It’s a nice way to relieve the stress of everyday life. I also like to dance, though I don’t do it very often.”

Matt stares into her hazel-green eyes, contemplating her words. “You like to clean?” He asks incredulously, pulling back to look at her fully.

“Come off it, you big lump. Just because you’re lazy doesn’t mean the rest of us have to be,” she gripes, resting her head against his shoulder. He places a kiss to the top of her curls, breathing in deeply.

“I am not lazy,” he protests, and then he’s pushing her off his lap. She stares at him curiously, standing before him while he remains seated on her recliner. He pops to his feet, taking her hands into his, and pulls her in close.

“What are you doing, Matt?” She questions, allowing herself to be pulled into his embrace. He makes a noncommittal sound in response, forgoing answering her question, and begins to hum softly, holding her hand against his chest. His other hand goes to rest against the small of her back as he begins to sway them gently.

“I happen to like to dance, myself,” he informs her when he twirls her around gently. “Though I’ve heard I look like a giraffe when I do.”

Alex shakes her head, amused. “Honestly, sweetie, you can be so thick sometimes. Your body does not work the way a normal man's does.”

He cups her face when she looks at him again and moves to rest his forehead against hers. His thumb traces her cheekbone and he smiles. “I am going to take that as a compliment," he mumbles, licking his lips. "To continue, I also like to paint, obviously, and I actually quite enjoy

bubble baths.”

She squints, mouth quirking the slightest bit. He honestly adores this woman. Alex Kingston is one of the sweetest, most beautiful women he has ever had the chance to meet.

“I happen to like bubble baths, myself,” she repeats his earlier words, mischief shining in her eyes. He could have laughed out loud right then, if it weren’t for Salome being asleep just in the other room. He could have done a lot of things just then, but he settles for kissing her.

It’s a slow kiss and her hands come to lock around his neck as he tilts her backwards a bit, as if to end their dance with a dip. His tongue slides across her bottom lip, seeking entrance, and she opens willingly. Their tongues dance together just as they had been, slow and undemanding. Matt allows one hand to bury itself in her curls, the other holding her up by her backside.

It’s nights like these where he wishes they weren’t sneaking about and lying to everyone. He wants to talk to someone about how magnificent she truly is. He wants to tease the world with the knowledge that he gets to spend his free time with her and her beautiful daughter. He wishes he could just shout from the rooftops that he’s one of the luckiest men in the world because Alex Kingston has allowed him into her home, but they promised. And that promise is what is keeping him tied to Daisy in a way he doesn't want to be.

That promise is what is keeping him from treating two of the most gorgeous ladies to midday picnics and playtime at the park.

And dear God, he hates that promise.

Chapter End Notes

Thanks to Trialia for Brit-picking this for us! And thank you guys for the kudos:) This chapter, the first two parts are written by me, Friday, and the last part is written by Brinney. Chapter title comes from the Coldplay song Green Eyes.

Stuck between me and you Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes

As Matt strides up the walkway to Alex’s door, he can see her silhouette. She’s waiting for him (as always, he’s a bit late) in the doorway, the light from her living room making her face a bit dark but her hair shine like gold.

She looks like sex personified, he thinks. Wearing (he’s assuming) nothing but a trench coat and heels, the shiny black ones he likes so much. There’s something white sticking out of one of the pockets of the coat and he wonders what it is.

His skin tingles at all the possibilities.

“Hello, darling,” she greets when he’s close enough, and now he can see the gloss of her lips and the flush of her cheeks.

“I certainly hope you’ve got something on under that coat of yours,” he grins, coming to stand before her. Her hands are immediately on his hips, tugging him against her.

“No, you don’t,” she laughs as she pulls him backwards into her home. He’s itching to kiss that tantalizing smile from her lips, but he isn’t going to. Not yet, at least. He wants to hear her voice for a bit longer. That wicked lilt she gets when she’s aroused (as she should be) is electrifying.

“No, I don’t,” he agrees. He throws away his desire to hear her voice, slanting his lips across hers as his fingers come to toy with the sash of the trench coat. She moans softly against his lips when his fingers slip inside. They coast across bare flesh and he pushes the coat open, pressing his clothed body into her naked one. Her hands pull him closer, clinging to the fabric of his jacket, and she’s leading him back towards her room.

Their hands never leave each other, hers tearing off his jacket and shirt, his tweaking her nipples. When they reach her bedroom, she’s got her hands halfway in his trousers, caressing his everhardening cock with quick, nimble hands. Their lips find each other again when she pulls him out, dropping his jeans and pants to the floor. He manages to step out of them and kick off his boots, and then she’s pushing him onto the bed.

Alex straddles his thighs, mischievous grin in place as she reaches into the pocket of her coat. She pulls out a white feather, almost identical to a quill, and drags it across her lips.

“I think it’s my turn to have control tonight,” she suggests with a wink, leaning forward and tracing the feather down his heaving chest. The feel of the soft material tickles, and he squirms.

“I don’t see why not,” he replies with a smile. The smile is lost immediately when she spreads his legs for him, dropping between them and breathing hotly against his hard member. She twirls the feather in a circle around the tip, before dragging it down the length of him.

“Fuck, Alex,” Matt groans, hips corkscrewing through the air at each swipe of the feather. The soft, tickling sensation along his cock is enough to make him ache, and oh fuck, her tongue is now chasing the feather. He buries his hands in her hair, gripping her scalp tightly as she moves the feather to his balls, and simultaneously takes the head of his prick into her mouth.

“Mmm,” Alex moans, the action sending vibrations through his body. She is moving the feather slowly up and down the rigid lines of his balls, and he’s torn between laughing out loud and thrusting into her mouth.

She swallows him down, wrapping her tongue around him like a ribbon, coating him in her slick saliva. He’ll never get used to this, he thinks. The feel of her, any part of her, touching him in such an amazing way. He slips and thrusts into her mouth when her teeth scrape against his cock and the feather dips just a bit lower than his balls. She grunts, but continues what she’s doing, free hand wrapping around the base to keep him from going any further inside.

His body is covered in a slick sheen of sweat and his breath is coming out roughly. Sprawled out across her sheets, her mouth on his cock and her hands teasing him, he never, ever wants to leave. But the longer she’s down there, the less likely he is going to last.

“Love, you gotta…stop,” Matt manages with eyes open wide. He stares down at her as she slides his erection from her mouth with a ‘pop.’ Her grin is satisfied, and she lets him drop against his stomach.

The feather is thrown away as he pulls her up to kiss her thoroughly. She takes advantage of their new position, sinking down on his slick erection. He bites down on her lip, hands going to her hips to help her set a rhythm (if it can be considered a rhythm. At this point, they’re both desperate for each other, for release) and dipping into the soft flesh there. She moans into his mouth and he swallows the delicious sound.

“Christ, baby,” he gasps against her lips. It’s like a wild dance. She’s moving so fluidly, so rapidly, up and down, choking him just right. He’s closer to coming than she is, still high off her mouth wrapped securely around his cock.

“Make me come,” Alex demands, licking his lips. Her hands go to his shoulders for more purchase as one of his dips between them. She’s so wet (it always surprises him at how aroused she becomes from sucking him off), and his fingers slide against her with ease. He growls when his blunt nails come into contact with his own flesh, and her wanton moan fills the room.

The trench coat still clings to her body, the bottom brushing against his thighs with each down stroke. Her hair is a mess, sticking to her damp lips and forehead, as the rest bounces with her movements. It’s an erotic sight, that hair, and Matt quickens his pace, both hips and fingers working faster and faster. She’s making so much noise that it’s driving him crazy.

“Matt,” Alex whimpers, kissing his chin, his mouth, his nose. She pulls his head into her neck, resting her cheek against the top of his hair as they continue to rock against each other. He falls backwards, exhaustion slowly creeping upon his body. His hips snap to and fro, and his feet plant themselves solidly against the bed. She rises on her forearms, staring down at him. The new position causes his hand to have a little less purchase, but a hell of a lot more pressure.

She crumples with a shout, mouth attacking his with fervor. He groans with relief (he wasn’t sure how much longer he could’ve held out) and she milks him for all he’s worth. Her name falls off his lips and into her mouth like a mantra. With his hand still wedged between them, she twitches at any slight movement of his fingers, and he relishes in the reaction.

“You better not expect me to be able to move anytime soon,” Alex warns, voice slightly muffled by his shoulder.

He runs his free hand along her thigh, gripping the flesh tight before flipping her onto her back. He leans over her with a smirk, and she laughs, pulling him down for another kiss. It’s languid, clouded with lack of energy, and he sighs into the deep kiss.

These are the kind of moments (not the ones during, though those are stupendously fantastic) that he enjoys the most. The quiet, gentle moments when it’s just them and the post-coital cuddles. Her witty compliments about his sex drive, his soft caresses.

As she falls asleep against him, curled against his side and breathing softly into his neck, he knows he wants a million more times like this. A million, million more times wrapped up in her arms -no need to be anywhere else, no pressing matters to attend to.

Just them, together.

XxX

When Alex wakes up, the smell of ginger tea is permeating her entire house. Smiling sleepily, she stretches underneath the blankets, not at all surprised to find Matt’s side of the bed empty. The man can never sit still.

Yawning, Alex sits up and spots Matt’s clothes still on her floor. Apparently, he’s wandering around her house in his boxers. The thought is an appealing one. Noticing that she’s no longer wearing her trench coat, she realizes Matt must have slipped it off her while she slept. Smiling a little, Alex picks up her dressing gown from the chair next to her bed and slips into it.

Fluffing her mussed curls, she pads down the hall and into the kitchen. Standing bare-chested at the counter with a mug in one hand, Matt flips idly through the newspaper, eyes quickly scanning the pages. He looks comfortable here, she thinks, with his rumpled bed hair and contented expression.

Clearing her throat, Alex leans against the doorway and smiles when he starts in surprise. A smile blossoms across his face at the sight of her and it’s so adorable that she wants to cross the room and kiss him.

“Hello,” he says, scratching at the back of his head before gesturing to his mug. “I helped myself. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course not,” she says. “But don’t you have to go home?”

Matt looks offended. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”

“No,” Alex laughs. “I just thought you were living with someone who would notice your prolonged absence.”

“Not today,” he winks.

Alex studies him for a moment. His face is the picture of hope and a smile twitches at the corner of his mouth. She can’t say no. She never can when it comes to him. “All right,” she sighs, shaking her head when he grins outright. “You can stay for another hour, but then Salome is due home and you need to be gone before then.”

Matt offers her a mock salute. “Yes ma’am.”

She rolls her eyes. “Shut up and make me a cuppa.”

While Matt goes about plucking a mug from her cabinet – her favorite mug, though how he knows that is beyond her – Alex takes a seat at the counter and watches him pour her tea. She’s leaving to go back to America this week, and the thought of leaving him and his rather wonderful tea-making skills behind is unpleasant, to say the least. And she’s certainly going to miss the kissing…among other things. She wonders if she could put him in her suitcase and just store him as a carry-on for the flight home. He is thin, but he’s also quite lanky. He probably wouldn’t fit.

Oblivious to her daft plotting, Matt sets her mug down in front of her and sits on the stool next to hers, going back to his paper. Peering at him over the rim of her mug, Alex watches him scan the sports section with unabashed fondness. He hums quietly under his breath as he reads and it’s impossible not to find him adorable just then. She slips her foot between his legs, wrapping one of her own around his ankle. Glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, Matt smiles.

For a while, there is nothing but comfortable silence between them as Matt frowns over football scores and Alex sips at her tea. The thought comes into Alex’s head that they’re being awfully domestic, but she pushes it away forcefully. She can over-analyze their every action later, but right now, she just wants to relax. It isn’t often that they get such quiet moments together.

When Matt finishes with the paper, he pushes it toward her but Alex has no desire to read right now. Her desire at this particular moment is busy flipping through the stack of books Salome had abandoned on the counter before she left today.

Matt runs his index finger over the bindings as he reads the titles, mouth pursed. When he finds one he likes, he plucks it from the stack with what he probably thinks is impressive finesse, but he sends the whole pile toppling to the floor and Alex rolls her eyes. Typical.

“Matilda,” he reads, opening the book to flip through it. “Is she reading this for school?”

Alex shakes her head. “No, she just likes reading. Not much else to do when I’m filming and

she’s stuck on set with me.”

“Hmm…” Matt flips back to the beginning of the book and it takes Alex a moment to realize what he’s doing as he begins to read, “It’s a funny thing about mothers and fathers. Even when their child is the most --”

Laughing a little, she asks, “Why are you reading out loud? Is this story hour?”

“Shh,” Matt shushes her, holding a finger to her lips. Alex resists the urge to take it into her mouth, pursing her lips instead. “You told me before that you like being read to. I’m reading to you. Hush.”

As he begins again, starting all over with exaggerated patience in his voice, Alex watches him with slightly misty eyes. He makes her tea; he actually listens to her when she talks about silly things like being read to. Is there anything about him that won’t make her want to melt into a gooey puddle of adoration? Even when he’s flailing about like he has no control of his limbs and knocking things over left and right, she finds it charming. Why can’t she find an unattached man her age with these qualities? Well, minus the inherent clumsiness.

Resting her head against her folded arms, Alex closes her eyes and just listens to the sound of his voice for a while. It would be relaxing if it weren’t for the fact that his voice alone is enough to send heat pooling in her stomach. The majority of the time he reads she spends biting her lip and forcing herself not to crawl into his lap. After a while, she opens her eyes to watch him, which is a mistake. Matt licks his finger to turn the page and Alex cannot be expected to just sit there anymore. Reaching out, she plucks the book from his hands and tosses it aside. It lands with a thwack against her tiled kitchen floor.

“Oi!” Matt frowns after the book and then looks back at her with a pout. “I thought you liked being read to.”

She smiles at him and tugs him close with her hand gripping his chin. He blinks at her, his nose brushing against hers. “Oh, I do and you’re lovely for remembering.”

Matt quirks an eyebrow. “But…?”

“But,” Alex lets go of his chin to trail a finger down his cheek in a light caress. “I’m suddenly thinking of other things you’re good at doing with that voice.”

Slow smile breaking out over his face, Matt says, “In that case, Ms. Kingston -- ” she yelps when he suddenly takes her by the hips and lifts her with surprising strength onto the counter. “Allow my humble voice to be of service.”

She giggles as he rises to his feet, standing between her legs and pressing his mouth to hers. Alex wraps her arms around his neck and sighs into his kiss, one leg slipping around his waist to draw him closer. Groaning, Matt pulls away to press soft, open-mouthed kisses along her jaw and down her neck. When her dressing gown gets in the way, he growls and reaches for the cord, untying it deftly.

“Matt,” she whimpers as his hands slide beneath her robe to meet naked skin.

“Shh,” Matt shushes her again with a grin, pushing her robe from her shoulders. “Quiet, Kingston. It’s story hour – a bit of respect, if you don’t mind.”

Before she can form a response, his mouth covers hers again and the last thing on her mind is keeping quiet.

Chapter End Notes

Thanks so much for the kudos and comments! You guys make us smile:) In this chapter, Brinney wrote from Matt’s point of view and I wrote from Alex’s. Chapter title comes from the Ida Maria song I Like You So Much Better When You’re Naked. Go look it up – it’s impossible to be in a bad mood listening to that song.

Let my fingers do the walking Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes

Alex groans, rolling over on her mattress to bury her head further into her pillows. It’s been harder and harder to fall asleep in her oversized bed, without Matt next to her.

She tried to play it off at first, simply believing it was having someone else in the bed with her. It gets so lonely to sleep alone, and she’s always been a cuddler. But eventually, she realized it wasn’t just a body she was missing, but his. The way he molds himself to her back while his fingers dance down her bare arms. The way he whispers to her about his day, pausing every once and a while to kiss her neck. She even misses the way his prominent hipbones poke at her lower back.

Huffing, she looks at her alarm clock, sighing when she sees it’s two in the morning. She laid down three hours ago. This was really getting ridiculous.

Being in America definitely put a damper on the whole physical aspect of their affair. She knew this would happen -- it’s not as if she is in England all the time, and now that Doctor Who is finished filming for a while, she’ll be there even less than before. Now, all they have are late/early phone calls and absurd texts.

Thinking of her mobile now, Alex reaches over to her nightstand and snatches up the small device. Pressing back into her pillows, hair fanning out around her head, she squints at the bright screen, typing away at the tiny keyboard.

I can’t sleep.

Simple enough, she thinks, laying the phone down on her chest, silently awaiting the reply. Knowing Matt, it won’t take long.

As if on cue, her phone vibrates, tickling her skin lightly.

Need me to sing you a lullaby? ;)

A grin spreads across her face, and she doesn’t stop to wonder at how easily he can lighten her

mood.

If you’re not too busy. Though I’m not too sure about your singing voice.

A minute later and her phone buzzes, a picture of Matt making a goofy face popping up on her screen. Smothering a laugh at how he’d managed to change his contact picture without her knowing, she answers with a quiet, “Hello.”

“You know my singing voice is fantastic,” he defends immediately, and his voice is loud and such a comfort.

“Okay, okay,” she laughs softly, scooting further down in her sheets. “What are you doing?”

“Watching the telly. Honestly, it’s not as fun without you here. There’s no one to make fun of the silly people with,” he whines, and she can hear the drone of the news on in the background.

“So Daisy’s out then?” Alex asks, trying to seem less hopeful than she really is and failing miserably.

“Mhm. Had breakfast with Kaz this morning, which was lovely. Our waitress’s name was Alex, though she lacked your amazing good looks and sexy hair. Drove me crazy, it did.”

She is not smiling like a schoolgirl. Really, she isn’t.

“Should have called me sooner, you dolt,” Alex chastises, humor evident in her voice.

“I should have,” he murmurs, voice low and she can’t be blamed for the shivers that run across her body at the sound. Oh, she’s missed it. “What are you doing?”

She bites her lip at how seductive that sounds, realizing quickly that this conversation is taking a totally different turn than she expected.

“Lying in bed,” she responds quietly, staring down at her tank top. Why are her nipples hard?

There is no reason for that. No reason at all.

“S’that all?” He asks huskily, and she hears him moving. She is suddenly nervous for what might transpire. Phone sex is definitely something she hasn’t done before and if that’s about to happen, oh god. Her thighs clench at the thought.

“Is there something else I should be doing?” The tremor in her voice is unmistakable and she silently damns herself for being so transparent.

“Mm, I could think of a few things,” Matt states suggestively, the muffled sounds around him ceasing. “To start, what are you wearing?”

“Are you seriously asking me that?” She laughs loudly, covering her mouth with her hand a moment later. The blush creeping up her neck is not something she’s used to. She is forty-eight years old, damn it. She does not get embarrassed or shy over something like this.

“Come on, love, play along,” he chuckles. She’s really about to do this, isn’t she? She’s about to have phone sex with Matt Smith and the thought of it is turning her on far too much.

“Er, I’m wearing a white tank top and a pair of black shorts,” she whispers, free hand running along her slim stomach.

“The black ones that hug your bum beautifully?” He inquires roughly, the sound of it causing her fingers to dig into her stomach.

“The very same,” she confirms, bunching her tank top in her grasp.

“Take your top off for me,” he demands and it’s so abrupt that a soft moan leaves her mouth even as she sits up to do as she’s told. The phone is back at her ear in a second, and his soft breath is floating to her ears.

“Done,” she breathes, resting back against the bed.

“I can see it,” he murmurs. More rustling occurs and she imagines him settling down in his bed. “I can see you laid out for me -- that glorious hair framing your face as your breasts rise and fall with

a bounce that can hardly be described.”

“Matt,” Alex whines, free hand tracing the side of her breast. This was too much, the way he’s describing everything with that voice. Oh, that voice, with the way it seemed to coast over her body as he whispered naughty things into her skin. She brushes her thumb across her nipple, back arching as a low moan leaves her mouth.

“Play with your nipple, love. Imagine that’s my hand; those are my fingers pinching your nipple almost hard enough to hurt. Let me hear it, Alex,” Matt commands, voice breathless and she wonders if he’s got a hand wrapped around his erection like she thinks he does. The thought is intoxicating and she closes her eyes, envisioning him with his knees bent, feet on his bed as his hand pumps his cock slowly.

“Ughnn,” she groans softly. It is terribly difficult to keep her voice down so she doesn’t wake her daughter, when all she wants to do is show him just how much of an affect he has on her, loudly.

“That’s it, sweetheart, now lick your fingertips for me.”

“I want you, so bloody badly,” she moans before complying, slipping her thumb and forefinger into her mouth, swirling her tongue around them before placing them back on her nipple. She gasps as the air sweeps across the wet peak, arching into her fingers.

His breath is ragged in her ear as he listens to her tease herself. He is working himself over, she thinks, listening to the way his breath hitches every couple seconds.

“Are you…” she pauses, panting heavily when she tugs at the peak harshly. She doesn’t have to finish her question, because he’s talking again.

“I’m running my hand down your stomach, dipping my thumb into your bellybutton just once,” he tells her lowly, and her own hand follows his words to the letter. Her thumb drops into her bellybutton, and her fingers brush the waistline of her shorts. She squeezes the phone in her hand, licking her lips quickly as they dry out from the continuous pants leaving her mouth. “I move to your shorts, and you don’t have any knickers on, do you? You don’t, and you arch, silently begging me to touch you where you need it most. Just tonight, I give in, teasing your clit with soft strokes.”

She slips her hand past the barrier of her shorts, silently cursing him for knowing her so well as she teases herself softly. She whimpers, eyes screwed shut as her hips arch of their own accord

and her finger brushes more firmly against her clit.

“How wet are you?” He asks and the words are strangled. The question sends a slash of pleasure straight to her abdomen and she bites down on her lip, hard.

“So wet,” she whimpers as her fingers slide down her slit, toying with her entrance.

“Describe how it feels. Please.”

“Mmn, warm, slick. It aches, Matt. I ache, so much,” Alex moans, pressing her fingers harder against her clit. “I want to…Can I…?”

“Can you what, baby? Come on, tell me what you want,” he says and she could have rolled her eyes at that if she wasn‘t already so desperate for release. Of course he wouldn’t let her get away with getting off so easily.

“I want to come,” she whispers, gnawing at her upper lip. “I want your fingers inside me. God, I want to kiss you until I don’t remember who the hell I am.”

His answering groan drives her crazy, and the phone nearly drops from her hand as her body jerks with the force of having two of her fingers slip deep inside her. It was accidental, she tries to convince herself, but she doesn’t stop it.

“Me too,” he finally manages, sounding strained. She licks her lips again, fingers beginning a slow pace, thrusting in and out of her wet opening. “You’re inside, aren’t you? Ughn, you’re feeling your warmth, the tightness around your fingers. The way you quiver, only slightly, when your fingers curl. Tell me what you’re feeling.”

She has to take a moment to catch her breath and adjust the phone between her shoulder and cheek so it doesn’t move. She takes her now free hand and gently massages her clit, while her other hand continues to move in and out of her body with leisurely thrusts.

“I’m feeling you,” she mewls, back arching off the bed as she brings her feet up to rest on the bed, legs opening wider. “The way you finger me slowly, at first, just to get me angry with you. Oh, I get so angry, don’t I? I beg you and beg you, and all you do is laugh, uhnn…”

“Faster, Alex,” he commands unevenly, breath harsher than before. “I’m close and I can’t…”

Alex tilts her hips up, angling herself for better access. She pulls her fingers out almost all the way before slamming them back inside. The motion causes her to jerk, fingers pressing harder and harder against her clit. She moans out Matt’s name, probably too loudly, and the phone falls from its perch down to rest against her chest. She pays it no mind, adding a third finger as her rhythm is lost. She’s so close, and if she listens hard enough, she can hear Matt’s loud grunts coming from her mobile.

Head tilted all the way back against the pillows, her eyes shoot open as a long moan leaves her throat. She clenches around her fingers uncontrollably, hips bucking from the bed as her fingers work her clit over once, twice more. Collapsing to the bed, she breathes deep in an attempt to control her body. She looks from her hands to her cell, resting between her breasts, and grimaces. She always gets messy and it’s all his fault. She reaches over to her nightstand, opening a drawer and pulling out a packet of tissues. She wipes her fingers off quickly, tossing the tissue onto the nightstand.

Grabbing the phone, she places it slowly back to her ear. He’s breathing slower, though still quite loud.

“Matt?” She questions quietly, rolling over onto her side to alleviate some of the heat that has accumulated around her body. The cool air washes over her damp body and she sighs, burying her face into her pillow.

“Mmmhm,” he answers. He sounds sated and she smiles.

“Maybe next time I’ll break out the rabbit,” she suggests. She’s much calmer now, exhaustion creeping over her.

“So glad you agree there should be a next time,” he chuckles breathlessly, before pausing. “Wait, rabbit?”

She grins, letting out a small yawn. “You’ll see.”

Fortunately, Matt is too tired to press the issue, and she merely gets a sigh in response. “You good to sleep now?” He questions softly, and she can hear him settle further into the mattress.

“Totally, you sex-fiend,” she laughs, pulling her comforter back up around her body. It’s still early for him, she knows, but the man could sleep at any time of the day.

“Minx,” he shoots back gently, and she giggles.

“Goodnight, Matt,” Alex mumbles, still holding the phone tight to her ear. But he’s already fast asleep and she’s too tired to hang up.

Chapter End Notes

Thank you so much for your comments and kudos! This chapter was written entirely by Brinney. Basically filler while they're away from each other. Chapter title from the P!nk song Fingers.

No place on this earth that's too far Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes

Alex hates karaoke bars.

It’s probably the corniest form of entertainment imaginable in her eyes, but tonight she has been outvoted. Sitting at a table in the back of a popular bar in Los Angeles with a group of single mothers, she watches person after person come up to the microphone and belt out songs like I Will Survive, Summer Nights, YMCA and Like A Virgin – the last one had involved a lot of drunken rolling about on the stage and a bit of a strip tease before the girl’s friends had hauled her away.

It had been her friend Regina’s idea to hit the LA nightlife, once Alex had mentioned that Salome was with her father that week. Now, surrounded by a bunch of single women without their children for the night – all positively tipsy on margaritas – Alex is beginning to regret agreeing to join them.

She spends most of her time sipping her margarita and hiding her phone under the table as she texts Matt. At the moment, she’s waiting for a response to her ‘Why do so many people like margaritas? I feel like I’m drinking an adult slurpie.’ Across from her, Regina, Julie, and Anna are all swaying along to the music and clapping wildly. Alex is pretty sure Anna is two seconds away from standing on top of her chair and ripping her shirt off – and she’s only on her first drink.

Raising an eyebrow at them and trying to tune out the sound of a rather bad rendition of the Rolling Stones song Start Me Up, Alex wonders how long it will take before her friends are dragging her onstage to sing something. She gives them another five minutes and one more drink before the thought occurs to them.

Her phone buzzes in her hand and Alex glances down to read her message. ‘You’re obviously too sophisticated for this group, Kingston.’

She smiles down at her phone, shaking her head.

“All right, that’s it.”

Alex glances up, startled, to find Regina staring at her with a smirk. “What?”

Crossing her arms over her chest and tossing back dark hair, Regina says, “You have been texting on that thing practically all night, and whenever you get a message, you smile like David Beckham just dropped his pants right in front of you.”

Alex snorts.

“Who are you texting?”

“No one.”

Regina raises an eyebrow.

“Just Karen.”

“Well which one is it? No one or Karen?”

“Oh bugger off, Regina,” Alex laughs, plucking the paper umbrella from her drink and chucking it at her.

Regina shrieks in surprise and Julie and Anna laugh as she struggles to fish it out of her top. “Damn you, Alex.”

Alex blows her a kiss and claps her hands together. “All right. Who’s ready to sing?”

“Me!” Anna practically bounces in her seat, blonde hair swaying with her frenetic movements. “Let’s do this!”

Julie shrugs. “Only if we don’t sing something ridiculous. I can’t handle warbling my way through Save A Horse, Ride A Cowboy again.”

Alex sends Matt a one-worded text. ‘Listen.’

“Well it’s better than the time you made us sing Baby Got Back!” Regina shoots back, and Julie glares while Anna snorts into her drink. “And you -- ” Regina points a manicured finger at Alex. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing. You can’t distract me, Alex Kingston.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Alex replies innocently, scrolling through her phone for Matt’s number. “Now, I’m picking the song.”

“And what would that be?” Anna asks, leaning forward so far in her seat that Alex is afraid she might fall forward and smack her chin against the table.

She smirks. “You’ll see.”

She dials Matt’s number as her friends troop towards the stage and knowing he’ll answer, she leaves her phone open on the table and makes her way to the front of the bar. She selects the song she wants and joins her friends, where they’re swaying drunkenly in their high heels.

They all gather around the microphone as the music starts up, and upon realizing what song Alex has chosen, they all shriek with laughter and shove at her, scandalized.

“I wanna see your peacock, cock, cock, your peacock, cock.”

Before long, they have their arms around each other, singing into the microphone without a bit of shame, much to the delight of their cheering audience.

“Word on the street, you got something to show me. Magical, colorful, Mr. Mystery. I’m intrigued for a peek, heard it’s fascinating. Come on baby, let me see what you’re hiding underneath.”

For the duration of the ridiculous song, Alex lets herself forget about the audience in front of her and focuses on the fact that Matt is listening in on their performance. She shimmies against Anna – who laughs and flashes her thigh – and tilts her head back against Julie, letting her voice go a little sultry.

Somewhere in the audience, someone wolf whistles and Alex smiles.

When the song is over and the applause and hooting has died down, Alex leaves her friends to the group of men suddenly surrounding them, slipping through the crowd and back to her table.

“You’re so bad, Alex!”

Alex glances back to give Regina a thumbs up and a grin, before picking up her phone and making her way to the loo. “You there?”

“Of course I am, you horrible minx.” Matt laughs, obviously amused, and Alex feels more than a little pleased with herself. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me? Teasing me when you’re thousands of miles away?”

“Didn’t you like it?” She asks, smiling as she locks herself in a stall and leans against the wall.

“Not the point,” he scolds, groaning.

“I think it’s entirely the point,” she counters, enjoying herself immensely. “I was merely serenading you, darling.”

“Hate you.”

“You don’t.”

He sighs, offering no objection. “Where are you, anyway? It’s not so noisy now.”

“I’m hiding in the loo.”

Matt laughs. “Why are you hiding in the loo?”

“So I can talk to you without my drunken friends trying to find out who I’m on the phone with.” Alex traces the lettering carved into the stall door with her index finger – Jill + Darren 4ever – smiling a little at the blatant vandalism. She remembers being that young. “Besides, after that song, they’re getting quite a bit of attention.”

they’re getting quite a bit of attention.”

“Let me get this straight,” Matt says, and Alex takes a moment to enjoy the sound of his voice. It’s been entirely too long since she’s been able to put a face to that lovely voice. “Your friends are out there drinking and carousing with men who want to get into their knickers after that rather sexy rendition of a very silly, naughty song, and you’re…hiding in the loo.”

“Yes.”

“And you called me.”

She hesitates this time, pausing with her finger hovering over ‘4ever’. “Yes.”

“I’m feeling rather flattered right now, Kingston.”

“You’re just lucky the room was full of ugly men tonight,” she says, smiling when his laughter fills her ears.

“Don’t ruin this beautiful moment between us with your cheek,” he says teasingly. “Bloody hell, don’t you know how to be romantic?”

“Not a romantic bone in my body, love. Sorry.”

“Liar.”

The thing is, Alex isn’t entirely sure she is lying. It’s been a while since she has felt the need or inclination for romance. Is that what this is? Serenading someone certainly seems romantic, if she leaves out the part about the whole song referring to genitalia. She supposes it could be her own twisted, perverse attempt at romance, but why would she try to be romantic to begin with? Hadn’t they agreed from the very beginning that what they had wasn’t a relationship? They had promised that it wouldn’t interfere with their everyday lives, that it wasn’t love and they wouldn’t treat it as such.

So what is she doing, singing to him and sneaking away from a night out with her friends to talk to him? Why is she inviting him over for dinner at her townhouse and slow dancing with him in her living room?

Alex is good at making rules, but when it comes to following them, she tends to run into trouble. And it’s only going to hurt in the end, isn’t it? It always does. Why does she do this to herself? Allow herself to get attached, even when she knows it all means nothing?

“Alex? You still there?”

Swallowing around the sudden lump in her throat, Alex manages, “Uh, yes. Sorry. I’ve-I’ve got to go.”

“Oh, all right. Didn’t find a good-looking bloke, did you?”

She smiles despite herself. “None but you, honey.”

“See?” He says, sounding pleased. “You know how to be romantic.”

She shuts her eyes. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Have fun, Kingston.”

Alex hangs up, slipping her phone into her pocket. Leaning her head back against the wall, she sighs and stares at the carving on the door. Over the pounding music outside, she whispers to herself, “What are you doing?”

Chapter End Notes

Hello all! Thanks so much for your comments and for those of you who have left kudos! Okay, this chapter was written entirely by me, Friday. Trialia wasn’t available to be our beta this time, so any mistakes are entirely mine. Sorry it’s kind of short but it’s basically just another filler chapter for while they’re apart. The chapter title comes from the song Run by Rex Goudie.

I wanna lock you up in my closet Chapter Notes

Quick translation of some key words: honey cooler = kiss cash or check = now or later and everything else is pretty much self-explanatory.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

When Karen had invited him and Daisy to her "epic Halloween bash" (her words, not his), Matt had agreed immediately. The idea of spending a night with his closest friends, while being dressed up as someone else outside of work, away from being told what to do, is honestly too good to pass up.

And, of course, Alex is in America.

Dressed up in his perfectly ironed, not-a-wrinkle-in-sight zoot suit, Matt enters Karen's party with a tipped hat, a small smirk and a Pocahontas-Daisy on his arm.

He hopes no one asks why they don’t match – she’d wanted him to be John Smith, and he's gone by that alias often enough, thanks – because that argument is not something Matt wants to remember right now. Not that it truly matters, because five minutes into the party, Daisy is dragged away, much to her delight, by the seventeen other Disney characters that have shown up.

On his own, Matt strolls through the house, weaving in and out of the multiple people that have shown up, silently wishing he'd had the chance to call Alex before he arrived.

What were she and Salome doing for Halloween? Did Alex even have her?

Not knowing slightly bothers him, but he shrugs off the feeling, searching every face for the ginger he's come to know and love. When he finally spots her, a grin lights up his face.

What is with the women at this party dressing up as Disney characters?

"Ariel, hm?" He questions as he comes to stand by her. She pauses in her conversation with a man he doesn't know, turning to face him.

"Well, I have the hair," Karen laughs, tossing her wavy red hair, smiling brightly at him. She falters for a moment as she takes him in, the outfit lost on her.

"I'm a gangster, obviously," Matt states proudly, tugging on the lapels of his jacket. There are definitely some things that playing the Doctor has rubbed off on him and being proud of what he's wearing is one of them.

"What's with the high-waist pants?" She asks, obviously confused.

"Oh, Kaz," he sighs, but it's all in good fun. "A zoot suit, which is what I am wearing, was often worn by Italian Americans, African Americans and Mexican Americans during the late 1930's--"

"Okay, Matt, I don't need a history lesson," Karen laughs, shoving at him. "Have you run into everyone, then?"

"Who, exactly, is 'everyone'?" He inquires, eyes glancing over the crowd of people surrounding them. The man Karen had been speaking to, he notices, is still standing there and waiting to continue his conversation.

"Oh you know, the Who cast and crew. Arthur's around here somewhere and so is Steven, Sue, Beth, Alex--"

"Wait, Alex is here?" Matt asks quickly. Realizing that sounded a little too excited, he schools his expression when he turns back to look at Karen.

"Oh, yeah. I guess it was Florian's turn to spend Halloween with Salome," she shrugs, accepting a drink from one of the waiters as they walked by. Karen certainly went all out for this, didn't she? "So when I invited her, she agreed. It didn't take nearly as much convincing as I was expecting it to."

"Huh, yeah. Well, it seems like your friend here would like to continue his conversation with you, so I'll leave you to it," Matt smiles, excusing himself quickly. The next fifteen minutes are spent wandering through the house in an attempt to find the one woman he really wants to see, and avoid the one he doesn’t.

When he finally spots her, he forgets how to breathe. She stands next to the fireplace with her back turned to him – though he'd recognize that hair anywhere, never mind how many times he has mapped the line of her spine, or the dip of her lower back. The neckline of the deep red dress she wears, from what he can tell, rests just atop her (lovely) breasts, wrapping around her body and dipping low, stopping just above her bum. Her back is bare and her hair is pulled back, decorated with a headband that sports a small feather. Draped across her arms and hanging just below her bum is a red feather boa to match her dress. The heels she wears could easily be used as a weapon.

It takes a moment for him to register what she is but when he does, a devilish smirk appears on his face.

A flapper.

How fitting they'd both choose something from the early 1900s, he thinks. How fitting indeed.

She’s chatting away with a playboy bunny, and Matt silently makes his way over to them. By the time he reaches her, the bunny has walked away, leaving Alex standing by herself and looking absolutely gorgeous. He cannot help the first words that leave his mouth.

“How about a honey cooler, eh, moll?” He taunts in his best Italian accent, leaning over to whisper in her ear. Alex pivots to face him, green eyes lighting up when she sees what he’s wearing. He falls back onto the balls of his feet, bouncing lightly. He slips his hands into his pockets and nods in her direction, tilted hat nearly falling off his head from the movement. Her bottom lip snatched by her teeth, she steps closer, allowing enough space between them to deem their conversation as nothing more than friendly to those around them.

“Cash or check?” She grins, voice high-pitched and rather American.

His smirk grows.

“I’d say cash, doll, but there’re too many Joe’s and gold diggas around, and a dish like yaself can never be too careful,” Matt says, motioning with his head to the people that mingle around them.

“Oh, these dumb Dora’s? They don’t know from nothing,” Alex replies dismissively, rolling her eyes. Her smile grows larger, teeth showing as she moves in closer.

“It’s just gunna have to wait, sweetheart,” he chuckles, taking one of her hands in his to twirl her around.

Face flushed, Alex laughs out loud, resting a hand on her chest, as if trying to calm her heart. “You’re a gangster!”

“And you, my pet, are a flapper. Great minds think alike, eh?”

“Oh, sweetie, they do,” she agrees. She stares at him, eyes wide with mirth, and he tips his hat in formal greeting.

“I didn’t know you were going to be here,” he accuses softly, leaning against the stone fireplace.

“I didn’t know I was, either, until last week,” Alex confirms, crossing her arms over her chest. She toys with the ends of the feather boa and he fights the urge to grab them and drag her into his body.

His girlfriend is somewhere around here and he really doesn’t want to get publicly humiliated by her or the press for something as silly as kissing Alex Kingston.

He snorts. As if kissing Alex could be considered silly. What on Earth had he been thinking?

“I’d really like to kiss you now,” Matt mutters, hands curling into fists in his pockets. At his admission, Alex’s breath hitches. She backs up slowly, a mischievous smile on her face.

“Daisy’s here, then?” She asks with a quirk of her brow, smile never leaving her face. His sigh is answer enough, and Alex licks her lips. “Wait five minutes, then go down the hall. Five minutes, Matt.”

He doesn’t need to ask her why. In moments, she has disappeared down the hall, leaving him to

fight the urge to chase after her immediately. Tapping his foot, he tries to appear like he’s enjoying himself. When he catches sight of Daisy across the room, he decides it’s a great time to follow the path Alex just took.

Once down the darkened hall, he slows his pace to a crawl, trying to discern where she could have possibly disappeared. He squints in an attempt to help his eyes adjust faster. There are far too many doors down this way, and the stairs leading up at the end do not help his predicament.

“Alex,” he stage-whispers. The squeak of surprise he makes when a hand shoots out from what looks like a closet is something he’ll worry about later because all of a sudden, Alex’s hands are buried deep in his hair, his hat falling to the floor. The door closes behind him and her tongue is sliding in his mouth.

Matt’s hands wrap around her hips immediately, tugging her in closer. Pushing her against the shelves occupied by towels, he lifts her up, bunching up the material of her costume in his fists. Her ankles wrap around his back and Matt groans, grinding his hips into hers.

“You couldn’t even make it five minutes,” Alex moans disapprovingly, once the kiss is broken. His mouth is attached to her neck and he doesn’t answer her. One of his hands comes up to cup her breast, pinching at the nipple through the fabric. “Five minutes, one hundred and uhhn, thirty seconds.”

Matt lifts his head, nipping at her lips as she continues to chastise him. He keeps his hands from her hair, not wanting to ruin it, and instead he pushes her against the shelves a bit harder. Her approving grunt when their groins grind together nearly drives him over the edge. He grabs her forearms, locking her wrists together in one hand, over her head, and leans down to capture her already swollen lips with his again.

He pushes his tongue into her mouth, groaning when she sucks on it lightly. His free hand moves down between their bodies, slipping beneath the risen hem of her dress, and he groans at what he finds.

“No knickers?” Matt inquires breathlessly, fingers sliding against her heat. She doesn’t reply, head thrown back against the shelf behind her head. Her arms struggle against his hold and he releases her, moving his now empty hand to her waist to hold her still.

“Mmmn,” Alex moans as he thumbs her clit purposefully. He loves seeing her like this, so far gone, so willing to do anything to get off. He presses down harder against her swollen nub, leaning down to lick the shell of her ear.

“What do you want me to do, baby?” He croons in her ear, toying with her opening. Her hips buck against his hand, causing his own hand to brush against his erection. He bites his lip, fighting to control the movement of his hips as her hands find purchase on his biceps.

“I just…” She trails off, lifting her head to stare at him with intense green eyes. “I want you to make me scream.”

Her assertiveness always surprises Matt, but he slips two fingers in deliberately. Her thighs tighten around his hips and he does his best to thrust into her body with his hand wedged between them securely. She keeps her gaze locked on his, her mouth forming an ‘o’ shape. He licks at her lips, resting his forehead against hers. He feels her body tighten, clench around his fingers, and he can tell she’s close. He thrusts twice more before removing his fingers and bringing his hand up to his face. She beats him to it, taking his wrist and sliding his fingers into her mouth.

The feel of her tongue swirling around his digits is enough to make him lose control. He pulls his fingers from her mouth, replacing them with his eager mouth. Oh, he can taste her and it’s brilliant. Alex unhooks her legs from around his waist, dropping them to the ground. Once she’s standing again, she breaks the kiss to nip at his earlobe.

“Fuck me,” she whispers hotly in his ear, fingers already reaching for the belt wrapped tightly around his ribcage. The belt is undone and the oversized pants hit the floor in seconds. Alex doesn’t waste time, slipping her hand into his boxers to wrap her hand around him tightly. Matt bites down on her neck to contain his groan, hand slipping down her top to fondle her breast.

She tugs at the velvet skin and if he doesn’t stop her now, this will end as a simple hand job instead of a good, thorough rump.

“Alex, baby, you gotta stop thaaa…” He gasps, because right as he says those words, her hand forms a tight circle around the tip and oh, lord.

“Pick me back up,” Alex commands, hand never leaving his erection. He complies, hands wrapping firmly around her thighs and hefting her up into her previous position. In her free hand, she has managed to pick his hat back up, and she places it firmly on his head. When he looks at her quizzically, she tightens her grip around his length and shrugs. “I like it on you.”

Whatever his response was going to be is lost in the groan he releases when her hand guides him into her wet heat. He doesn’t wait, because it has been far too long since he’s been inside her, and he thrusts in all the way with one quick movement.

“Unng,” Alex moans loudly, head falling against his. Her right hand keeps his hat in place, the left wrapping around his neck. Their breath mingles together as he pulls back, pounding into her again, and again.

“Come on, love,” he manages, wrapping a hand around her waist. He takes her bottom lip between his teeth, tugging at it before letting it go and kissing her quickly. “Scream for me.”

Her answering moan is extremely satisfying, and his thirst for more grows. He slips his hand back in between their bodies, two fingers working over her clit as his hips snap back and forth.

“Matt,” she gasps loudly, drawing out the singular syllable of his name to make it sound like two. His lips slant over hers, swallowing her loud gasps. He pushes his tongue in and out her mouth in time with his thrusts, and his fingers move faster, harder against her.

Alex clenches down around him rhythmically, and, knowing what’s coming (or rather who), he rips his mouth from hers and demands, “Scream for me.”

At a Halloween party, in one of Karen Gillan’s hall closets, Alex comes with a loud shriek, and Matt is too far gone to worry about the complications that this could bring. Head clouded with lust for this woman falling apart in the most beautiful way in front of him, he bites down hard on her pulse point.

"I think it was coming from down here," Karen's voice wafts through the door, and Matt slows his thrusts, eyes wide on Alex's. She merely grins back at him, putting a finger to her lips in a way of telling him to be quiet, and digs her nails into his bare arse.

He bites down harshly on his lip, regaining his pace. Their eyes remain locked as they listen to what sounds like three people in the hall. The thought of getting caught excites and frightens him way too much, and his hips lose their rhythm.

"I don't hear anything," another voice speaks up, followed by another, saying the same thing.

"Make me come again," Alex whispers, mouth open as her breath comes out in soft gasps.

"I…I don't know if I can," he admits quietly. She kisses him, pulling down the top of her dress and revealing one of her breasts. Guiding his head to her chest, she contains a moan at the feel of his mouth wrapping around her nipple. He sucks at it ardently, as she tries to rock her hips against his as best she can.

He works his fingers desperately against her too sensitive bud, teeth nipping at her perky nipple, and soon, her second orgasm is washing over her. Her hand tightens on the fedora, nails sinking deep into the material. His climax hits him like a ton of bricks when she whispers, “Come for me,” into his ear, hand moving from his arse to bury her nails in his neck.

An eternity later, after many sweet nothings are exchanged, Matt loosens his grip on her hip. She drops her legs from his body, her costume sticking to her damp waist. He helps her tug it down, and she returns the gesture by moving his boxers back into place. He lets out a hiss when her nails drag across his oversensitive member and she offers him a quiet apology.

They listen to the outside world for a moment, trying to judge whether or not Karen and her friends are still out there. When they hear nothing, they share a shaky laugh.

“I missed you,” Matt confesses as he tugs his trousers back up his hips, tucking the shirt in. She does his belt for him, making sure it’s not too tight, before sliding the prong through the hole.

“I could tell,” she laughs, eyes meeting his. She winces, pulling the hat from his head. “I ruined it.”

He can’t help but chuckle at the pout that crosses her face as she takes in the crescent holes where her nails had once been. He tugs it from her grasp, hiding it behind some towels.

“I’ll buy another, just for you,” He murmurs, kissing her softly. She returns the kiss, eyes fluttering closed. This kiss is different, not as rushed and no tongues. Just opened mouth kisses, gentle caresses of their lips together.

"I missed you too," She admits when they break apart, running her fingers across the nape of his neck. He shivers against the touch, licking his lips to savor the taste of her.

"How long are you in town for?" He questions, resting his forehead against her collarbone. She hums, fingers still dancing across his skin.

"A week, starting yesterday," she answers. He tightens his grip on her waist, placing a small kiss on the skin below her mouth.

"Daisy gets on a plane for New Zealand in two days, for a week," Matt mentions, turning his face into her neck and breathing deeply. She's quiet for a moment, contemplating his words.

"Better make the best of it, no?" She chuckles softly, kissing his temple.

Post-coital cuddles are the best part of this affair, Matt knows. These are the times where they simply lay (or stand) with each other, holding onto one another as if one of them is going to disappear if they let go. He likes the feel of her flushed skin against his, the languid strokes of her hand in his hair. There's never a dull moment with her, and he simply loves it.

"Most definitely," he says softly. Straightening, he swats her bum, motioning towards the door. “Now get out there, and I’ll wait five minutes.”

“Yeah, right,” Alex scoffs, but doesn't move. He looks at her curiously, not understanding her pointed look. "Well? I'm not going out there with…that dripping down my leg."

Understanding dawning on his face, he grabs one of the fluffy white towels from the shelf behind her, holding it out to her.

"Come on then," he says, shaking it in her face.

"We're just going to soil one of Karen's towels and put it back?" She asks incredulously, disgusted.

"No, no. I'll just tell her I needed to use it to wipe up a spilled drink or something," Matt informs her, smiling when she takes it from him. She wipes herself down as best she can, handing it back to him with a look of undiluted horror. He rolls his eyes and pushes her towards the door.

Shooting him a glare, she opens the door just enough to slip out of.

“You might want to let your hair down!” He calls after her, the memory of his teeth sinking into her skin coming to the forefront of his mind.

“Twat,” she calls back, before disappearing completely.

Well, that was certainly one hell of a hello after such a long two months, he thinks.

Later that night, when Daisy asks him if he heard the unknown woman scream at the party, he hides a smile into his pillow and answers her with a loud, “Nope.”

“Huh, weird. I swear, everyone heard it,” Daisy says as she rolls over to curl her body around his. “Do you want to…”

“I’m really tired, Daze,” he murmurs, and it’s the first truth he’s told her all night.

He can’t find it in himself to be bothered by that thought.

Chapter End Notes

Thank you all so much for kudos and comments! They're very appreciated. This chapter written entirely by Brinney. Chapter title comes from Avril Lavigne's Hot.

I know you haven't made your mind up yet Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes

Flying never gets easier.

Every time the plane takes off, Alex grips her arm rests until her knuckles are white, and she doesn’t let go until the plane is in the air, flying smoothly toward its destination. This time is no different, and she holds her breath until her lungs burn, waiting with a thudding heart for the plane to level out.

When the seatbelt sign goes off, Alex breathes out shakily and leans her head back against the headrest. Oddly enough, turbulence doesn’t bother her – just the takeoff. There’s something about that moment just before the plane settles – that scary place between the ground and the open air. Like a child without a security blanket.

For the most part, Alex is willing to deal with the scary beginning if the end result is worth it. Filming for Doctor Who, for example. Definitely worth it.

This time, Alex’s destination is Matt.

She smiles, turning from her daughter, coloring next to her, to look out the window. It’s been three weeks since Karen’s Halloween party and when a friend from London had invited her to a baby shower for this week, Alex had jumped at the excuse to go back. She has every intention of attending the shower, but she knows the real reason she’s so eager for her plane to touch down in the place that still feels very much like home, is because of a man with silly hair and a smile that makes her knees weak.

As if sensing her thoughts, Salome nudges her and asks quietly, “Mom, can we see Matty while we’re in London? Please?”

Her daughter’s look is pleading and Alex smiles at the picture she makes, gripping a handful of colored pencils and staring up at her with wide eyes and a protruding bottom lip. She must be getting her pouting skills from Matt. “Maybe. If he’s not busy, love.”

“He won’t be too busy for us,” Salome says, sounding confident. “He loves us.” Salome turns back to sketchbook, seemingly unaware of the way Alex’s breath has caught in her throat. “And we love him too.”

Alex doesn’t move, can barely breathe. Salome doesn’t notice, too busy concentrating on staying inside the lines, tongue poking out of her mouth in her intensity. Thankfully, her daughter doesn’t seem to be expecting a response, because Alex doesn’t think she could speak right now if her very life depended on the use of her voice.

Love?

She swallows and turns to the window again, turning her shaking hands into fists in her lap. Salome may love Matt, but Alex certainly doesn’t. And he doesn’t love her.

They promised.

What they have is not love, and not a relationship. It’s an affair – a brief union that will be gone in a moment, like so much smoke in the wind. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t mean anything.

Except…she likes the way his hair falls into his eyes when he looks at her, and the way his gaze softens when he leans in to kiss her. She likes the sound of his voice, and the way his hands feel on her waist. She likes his laugh, and how he never takes things too seriously because he thinks life is too short to be so caught up in stress. She likes how he isn’t afraid to get down on Salome’s level and paint on the floor with her, or sing really loudly and terribly just to make her laugh.

But that isn’t love. That’s Alex being capable of seeing all of his wonderful qualities. He’ll make someone a fantastic husband one day. But she doesn’t love him.

It’s just a fling – one that’s getting a bit dangerous to continue, for that matter. They’re getting careless. That incident in the closet at Karen’s Halloween party had been reckless. Anyone could have opened that door and discovered them, but Alex had been so caught up in Matt that she hadn’t cared. It’s exhilarating sometimes, being so overwhelmed with lust that nothing else matters.

Is she willing to risk everything – her career, her reputation – for the sake of lust? But…it doesn’t feel like just lust. Not anymore. She can’t remember the last time it did feel like only lust. She isn’t sure it ever did.

Lust hadn’t factored into her decision to call Matt at a karaoke bar so that he could listen to her sing from thousands of miles away. Matt hadn’t been thinking of lust when he came over and took care of her when she was so sick she could barely stand up on her own, or when he sang her to sleep. It isn’t lustful when they slow dance without music in her living room. In quiet moments, they ask questions about one another, learning tiny tidbits like favorites books and childhood memories. When they’re together again after being apart, they say they’d missed one another.

Those things aren’t about lust either.

And sometimes, Matt kisses her – cupping her face in his hands – like she’s something so precious that he’s afraid she isn’t real. Occasionally, if she lets herself live in the moment and just feel the awe and reverence in his touch, it brings tears to her eyes.

She can’t love him.

He’s too young, so very young.

He has everything ahead of him – his future is so bright and she’s so proud of him. He’s gifted and brilliant, and there is so much left for him to do.

Alex has nothing to offer him.

He’s brilliant with her daughter, and obviously, he’s going to want kids of his own. She can’t give him that. Alex can’t be his darling arm candy at award shows, or the lovely young beauty the press gushes about – the sweet thing who stole the Doctor’s affections.

She’s not what he needs and eventually, he’s going to realize that. Alex won’t let herself love someone who’s only going to break her heart.

As she stares out the window, tears in her eyes, she bites her lip.

Part of her fears it’s already too late.

--

Matt taps his fingers on the doorframe of the bathroom, watching as Daisy finishes her makeup. She’s heading out for the weekend, going to Manchester with a few of her girlfriends. She has been planning this trip for a couple weeks now, and he is taking full advantage of it.

Alex is currently on a plane, headed his way.

He smiles at the knowledge, fighting the urge to stop when Daisy returns his smile in the reflection of the mirror. He really shouldn’t be doing this to her. She deserves so much more than him, sneaking around her back and giving all he should give to her to Alex.

He finds the most difficult thing to do is have sex with Daisy, but he does. Many men would think this is the life: sleeping with two very beautiful women. Oh, but it’s terrible. Especially when he doesn’t find the gratification in Daisy’s arms as easily as he did before. She merely saw it as his way of extending the duration of their coupling. He had smiled at her, nuzzled her cheek and told her she was a clever girl.

He is truly a horrible person.

“Looks like I’ll be leaving now,” Daisy says, a small pout on her face as she comes to stand before him. She wraps her arms around his waist, kissing him softly. “Are you sure you don’t want to tag along?”

Matt scoffs, running his hands up her arms to cup her neck. “And be dragged around by you and your friends? I think not.”

She laughs, tugging him in closer. “It wouldn’t be that bad, sweetie.”

“You’re right,” Matt sighs, hands burying into her hair. She shakes her head, dislodging his fingers as she sends him a ‘don’t do that’ glare. “It’d be worse.”

Daisy rolls her eyes – an action he finds irritating on her – and pulls away from him. He follows her into their bedroom, accepting a suitcase and a handbag from her, and walks her outside to her car.

“Have fun while I’m gone,” Daisy says, jabbing a finger in his chest. “Not too much fun, though, you hear?”

“Yes ma‘am,” Matt says, exasperated. He lets her tug him into a kiss, wrapping his arms around her waist as her tongue invades his mouth. She does the driving during the kiss, as he simply tries to wait it out. He should like kissing her, at least. It shouldn’t be a chore he feels obligated to complete. But it is.

When she breaks off the kiss, she wipes at his mouth with her thumb, clearing the lipstick smudges she undoubtedly left.

“I love you,” she says, and he bites the inside of his cheek. She does, doesn’t she? But she shouldn’t.

She shouldn’t love him, when he’s spending all of his free time with another woman. She shouldn’t love him when he loves someone else.

He loves someone else.

“I love you too,” he chokes out, hoping his voice didn’t just break. His chest tightens as he takes a step back from the car, waving goodbye to his girlfriend, who smiles. She drives off and he lets out a shaky breath.

He loves someone else.

He staggers back into his home, locking the door behind him. He plops down onto his couch with a huff, staring blankly at the television.

Does he really love Alex?

He knew from the beginning that what they share could never be merely sex. Their actions of late have pointed to that as well but has he truly fallen in love with her?

He thinks of the way she laughs or the way she puts her daughter before everything. If filming

doesn’t fit what Salome needs, Alex haggles with Steven to move the date around. He thinks of the way her eyes shine when she’s happy, or the way she dances around her house when she’s cleaning.

He remembers her reluctant acceptance of his help when both she and Salome were sick and stolen kisses between filming. He remembers breakfast in bed and deliciously heated phone calls; spending hours with her, simply holding her to him as she slept, and fighting the urge to hold her hand on set.

Matt worries his bottom lip, folding his hands over his lap. He’s always cared more for her than he thought possible. She was never just a quick shag to get his jollies off, never could be. But now he’s toying with the idea of love. The idea that maybe, quite possibly, there’s something more there between them than either have let on.

If anything, he’s not alone.

Not with the way she admits so hurriedly that she’s missed him too or with the way she touches him after long months apart. The unease in his chest begins to loosen as his mind wanders, thinking of the way she smiles at him so brightly. She shares her secrets with him, her deepest fears and dreams. She has let him grow close to her daughter, a child he loves more than he could ever imagine.

As he looks back on their affair, he realizes that he does love her. He loves the way she walks, the way she sleeps. He loves her attitude and her sense of humor. He loves her odd habits and cute feet.

He loves her daughter.

With renewed energy, he hops from the couch and bounds for his bedroom. He looks at the clock on his nightstand, anxiety for her arrival reaching a new peak. Nine hours. She’d be here in nine hours.

Should he say anything? He pushes the idea from his mind as quickly as it enters -- saying something to her about his feelings would be a mistake. At least, for now it would be. No, they’d need to have a long, calm discussion about the possibilities of where they could take this.

He can’t see her taking the words in stride if he simply let them out.

For now, though, he can bask in his newfound knowledge that he loves her. Oh, does he love her.

With a giant grin, he packs an overnight bag, knowing their first night together would be in a hotel, because she has Salome.

Waiting now seems like an even larger burden than before.

But he can handle it.

Hell, he loves her.

He can handle anything.

Chapter End Notes

Thank you all for commenting and leaving kudos! In this chapter, Friday wrote from Alex's point of view and Brinney wrote from Matt's. Chapter title comes from Adele's Make You Feel My Love.

Close enough to start a war Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes

They’re getting into the habit of changing hotels every time they meet. It’s not a bad thing, he knows, because their hellos are always rather lengthy and they are very recognized people.

And her hellos are always worth it.

Matt avoids the glass windows of the lobby, heading down the sidewalk and counting down the door numbers as he goes along. Fiddling with his car keys, he comes to stand before door 31, anticipation running through his veins. He raises his hand to knock, but the door is ripped open before he can.

“You’re late,” Alex chides, standing in nothing but a black lace bra and a pair of trousers. He tucks his keys into his pocket, hands moving to rest on her hips as he steps into the room.

“I know,” he says, smirk on his face as he tugs her in close. “By five minutes.”

“Five minutes is precious time, sir,” she murmurs, wrapping her arms around his neck. He brushes his lips softly across hers, like a feather touch. She tilts into the pressure, tongue swiping across his lips in a quick movement.

He backs her into the room, kicking blindly at the door. It slams shut with a satisfying ‘click’, blocking the sun’s rays and dimming the room considerably.

“Missed you,” he sighs into her mouth. He has missed her more than ever before, and that probably has to do with the fact that he knows now. He knows he loves her.

“Missed you too,” she moans softly, pulling him to the bed with her. “Now less talking and more touching, please.”

XxX

“I forbid you to ever leave England, ever again,” Matt says breathlessly into her neck, running his hands up her sides. She grips his shoulders and he feels her laugh, a soft rumbling in her chest against his.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Alex sighs, running her fingers through his messy hair. “America needs me.”

He chuckles into her flushed skin, post-coital happiness flowing through him. Maybe that’s why it doesn’t register in his mind when he says, too loudly, “I love you.”

“What?” She squeaks, pushing him off her quickly. She looks frightened and taken aback; he doesn’t know what to say for a moment. It had slipped so easily from his mouth – it felt like the most natural thing in the world to say those words to her. This is not the reaction he’d expected when he finally said them.

Matt takes a minute to gather his thoughts, figuring out the right words, before rolling onto his knees and placing a hand to her cheek. He flinches when she pulls back.

“What’s the matter?” He asks quietly, honestly fearful of her answer. But she doesn’t reply, slipping from the rumpled sheets to pad over to her pile of clothes by the bathroom door. “Alex, what are you-”

“No, you don’t.” Her voice is harsh and demanding, as though she’s forcing the words from her throat. She pulls her clothes on quickly, glancing around the room for her missing bra.

“What the hell do you mean, ‘I don’t’?” Matt snaps, jumping out of the bed and snatching up the black lace from its position over the lampshade. “I love you, Alex, and that’s not going to change.”

“Too bad because I don’t love you,” Alex bites out, glaring at him.

She looks pointedly at her bra, but he doesn’t move. The pain is too much to move. Doesn’t love him? That could not possibly be true. All this time, all those shared looks and quiet evenings. The whispered words when they were alone and the lingering kisses.

“Bollocks,” he spits, flinging her bra to the floor between them. She doesn’t move for it, continuing to glare at him. He grabs his jeans from the edge of the bed – foregoing the attempt to find his boxers – and jerks them up his legs. “Don’t you dare try to lie to yourself about this. You

find his boxers – and jerks them up his legs. “Don’t you dare try to lie to yourself about this. You and me, we have something.”

“We have lust, Matt,” she says condescendingly. “Forbidden lust, disgusting lust.”

“Yeah, disgusting, because all those times I was buried deep inside you, just right, you were telling me how disgusting this was. You weren’t moaning your consent, clinging to me--”

He doesn’t finish his sentence, because the shirt in his face cuts him short. He yanks it off his head, throwing it to the floor to join her bra. The anger bubbling up inside him is white hot and his hands shake from the feeling. She’s still standing by the bathroom door, staring at him like he has no right to be in this room right now, like he’s ruined everything. The tears spilling from her eyes do nothing more than fuel his anger.

“Look at you, Alex. Bloody look at yourself,” he shouts, taking a step closer to her. He ignores the way she backs up as if frightened and continues to advance. “You’re fucking crying. Why do you think you’re doing that, hm?”

“Regret,” she whispers, back against the door.

“Don’t you feed me that rubbish. You wanted this as much as I did, you’re just too dense to realize it could be great.”

“Great?” She laughs bitterly and lifts her chin, staring defiantly into his eyes. “It’d be disastrous, you stupid man. It’d ruin the both of us.”

“That’s the fear talking, sweetie,” Matt sing-songs, malice dripping from each word. “Admit it, you’re afraid of letting someone love you properly.”

“You call this properly? You call cheating on Daisy proper? This is anything but proper, Matt. This is wrong, we’re wrong. Opposite ends of the spectrum, you and I. Never mind that you’re a child.”

“You always have to bring that up, don’t you?” He grits out, pinning her in place, palms flat against the door on either side of her head. “Is that what this is about? Does it feel dirty to love someone so young?”

“I don’t love you,” Alex whispers, eyes brimmed with fresh tears.

“I don’t believe you,” he shoots back.

“Well, you should. It’s the truth.” Her tone is flat, but her eyes belie her words. The emotion swimming through them has Matt grasping at straws for what to say next. He can see the battle she’s having and the urge to hold her until the storm is over almost beats out his anger. Almost.

“I refuse to believe that all those times we spent together, both of us and Salome, end up equaling nothing in your clever head, Alex. If that’s how you treat a casual fuck then you’ve obviously got your priorities all wrong.”

She shoves at his chest but he doesn‘t budge, not even when she‘s screaming in his face. “Don’t you dare talk about me like you fucking know me.”

The next thing Matt knows, his fist is buried deep in the door, directly next to her head. He can feel the blood trickling down his knuckles but he doesn’t register the pain because nothing could hurt more than her rejection. But the fear in her eyes as she stands half naked against the battered door drives him to speak.

“I know more about you than you like to believe,” he whispers and his words are venomous. “I’ve seen how you live, pet, and it’s beautiful. I’ve seen how you care, how you love with everything you are. If this isn't love, then tell me what it is.” The room is silent then, nothing but his heavy breathing and the soft whir of the fan drifting between them as he waits for her to respond.

“Infatuation,” she finally says in a small voice. He immediately knows she doesn’t believe her own words, and pushes closer to her. He winces, the pain in his hand becoming prominent. He tries to flex and quickly comes to the decision that it’s a terrible idea to punch solid things.

“Stop lying to yourself,” he pleads, resting his forehead against hers, though it only lasts a moment before she turns her head away to stare blankly at the bed – the bed they’d made love on only minutes ago. “You love me. I know you do. You let me into your world, Alex.”

“No, I don’t. How could I?” She ducks beneath his arm and moves away from the door – away from him – scrambling to pull on the last of her clothes. He cranes his neck to watch her, immobile. “You’re violent. What if you lost your temper around Salome? I am not risking my daughter’s safety to be with you. Besides, you have Daisy. Someone your age you can actually

start a family with. I have nothing to offer you.”

He wants to shout at her again because that’s just ridiculous but his throat constricts and his eyes sting and nothing is working right. He feels lightheaded as he watches her gather her purse, slip on her shoes and stride to the door.

“I’d leave her, you know,” he says, voice broken. He needs to say it, to let her know that he would leave Daisy to be with her. “And I’d nev-never hurt Salome. I love her, you know that.”

Her stare is stoic as she stands in the doorway, but the tears are still falling and his heart is breaking and this is so wrong.

“Bloody look at yourself,” she mimics his earlier words, taking a step backwards into the hallway. She doesn’t respond to his first statement but he doesn’t care because she’s leaving and he needs to stop her. “You claim to love me yet you throw your fist around like I’m going to take it.”

“I made a mistake!” He shouts piteously. Tears – easily avoided in his anger – now flow from his burning eyes. This is not how it was supposed to happen. When he finally said those three words to her, she was supposed to laugh, maybe cry from happiness, and definitely return the feelings and they’d go from there. But this…this hurt, because she isn’t even trying. She’s just walking out the door and looking at him like he made the biggest mistake in the world by telling her he loved her.

Maybe he did.

“How many more mistakes, Matt?” She whispers, voice wavering. “You’ve made so many already.” The stoic façade is lost as quickly as it was gained. She motions vaguely with her hand, backing further into the hall, hand on the doorknob. “Go to the hospital, lie to the press about your hand, and just…go home. Kiss your girlfriend. Move on.”

“Alex, please, don’t go,” he begs, but the door shuts. He tugs at his stuck hand, shouting as he feels the skin tear and the cracked bones shift into places they shouldn’t. He continues to tug until, blessedly, he is free and rushing to the door. He yanks it open using his good hand but by the time he makes it to the parking lot her car is gone and he is standing alone at a cheap hotel with a painful hand and an even more painful heart.

XxX

Alex allows herself to break down once she makes it to the car and drives away, tears blinding her vision so much that she’s surprised she makes it home safely at all. But once she pulls up to the curb of her townhouse, she sits with the car turned off, trying to gather herself enough to go inside and see her daughter.

Refusing to let herself think of what has just happened – what she has just lost – Alex takes a few deep breaths and wipes hurriedly at her red eyes. Sniffling, she fluffs her hair and yanks the keys from the ignition.

‘Please don’t go.’

Alex slams the car door shut and leans against it, overcome by the sound of Matt’s voice in her head. Oh god. It’s over. It’s really –

No.

Not now. She can break down later, but not now.

In a daze, she makes it to her door and slides the key into the lock. The walk from the car and up the steps is a split second blur. Key turned in the lock, she allows herself a moment to rest her forehead against the door and make sure that she has total control over her emotions before she pushes the door open and walks inside.

“Mom, look what I did today!”

Alex pastes on the brightest smile she can muster and bends down to hug her daughter, holding her tight to her chest and burying her face in soft brown hair. If her embrace is a little too tight, Salome doesn’t say anything.

XxX

Much later – an eternity to someone who just wants to have an emotional breakdown in peace – Alex has tucked Salome into bed with no less than two bedtime stories. She closes her daughter’s bedroom door and walks down the hall in a fog. Without changing her clothes, Alex makes her way into the kitchen and finds a bottle of wine in the fridge.

Not bothering with the pretense of a wine glass, she carries the bottle into the living room and turns on the television. She presses play on the dvd player, just to have some kind of background noise. The babysitter had left Gone With The Wind in the player, and she opens the bottle of wine and takes a long swig before putting it on the table and settling back onto the sofa cushions.

Alex curls up and rests her head on the arm of the sofa. Clark Gable has just taken Vivien Leigh into his arms despite her protestations and proclaimed, ‘There’s one thing I do know…and that is that I love you, Scarlett. In spite of you and me and the whole silly world going to pieces around us, I love you. Because we’re alike --”

Alex doesn’t listen to anymore, turning the television off and viscously throwing the remote across the room before promptly bursting into tears. It’s been an ache in her chest all day, a horrible gaping hole ever since she walked out of that hotel room and left him standing there, watching her with tears in his eyes.

It wasn’t supposed to mean anything. She wasn’t supposed to fall in love with someone so young, someone who can’t possibly be willing to settle down with her and her daughter. He says he wants to, but what does Matt know? He’s just blinded by sex – it blinds most men, doesn’t it? He may love her, but he doesn’t understand the consequences of loving her. He would never try to stay if he did. He’ll understand later, once he’s had time, that she’s just trying to save him from hating her, from hating himself and whatever sort of bizarre life they might have had together.

He would regret it later and she knows it. Everyone who has ever fallen in love with her has ended up regretting it at one point or another. What on earth would make him any different? He has Daisy – beautiful, as young as he is, able to give him the family he wants.

What could Alex offer him? A heart that’s been broken so many times that it’s too mangled to even work properly anymore? A child that isn’t even his? A life where the press constantly judges them for their choices, for their difference in age? He wouldn’t be happy, and eventually, he would leave.

Alex won’t put herself and her daughter through that again, especially with how attached Salome has gotten to Matt. He’d break both their hearts.

So she’d lied. Making him believe he meant nothing to her was the only way she could think of to make him leave her alone and move on before both of them were in too deep to get out. Leave it to Matt to see right through her and call her on her total bollocks. He’s always been able to read her the way no one else can.

And then she’d thrown Daisy in his face and insinuated his temper was a risk with Salome. The look on his face…She hates herself. Matt would cut off his own arm before he ever laid a finger on her or Salome and she knows it. Pushing him away was the hardest thing she has ever done, but she knows it was for the best.

It was the right choice, the only choice. But that doesn’t make it hurt any less. Matt is everything she wants – funny and patient, gentle and kind, just as in love with her child as she is. He took care of them in a way that has been foreign to Alex for such a long time. He made them feel like a real family again.

She thinks of lying in bed with him in the middle of the night, staring up at the ceiling and just listening to him breathe -- knowing he was there and feeling better, safer. She thinks of breathless kisses in his trailer between takes on set, giggling with the dangerous possibility of being caught. She thinks of sitting on his lap when Salome was in bed, asking questions about each other in between soft kisses. Making love beneath hotel sheets, falling off the sofa in breathless laughter when he tickled her, singing Beatles songs into wooden spoons, feeling his eyes on her across a crowded room and knowing she was wanted. Looking into his eyes and seeing what she was too afraid to admit was there.

He loves her.

It all happened so very quickly, and now it’s gone.

Oh god.

It’s over.

He loves her and he’s gone.

He’s not coming back.

No more waking up to silly text messages from him in the morning, no more seeing his eyes light up when she walks into a room, or feeling his hand curl possessively at her hip. No more running her fingers through his hair and calling it ridiculous while secretly adoring it. Adoring him.

Tears pouring down her face, Alex stifles a sob into her hand, shoulders heaving as she squeezes her eyes shut and wonders when it will stop hurting so much.

She doesn’t know how long she sits there curled around herself and utterly lost in her grief before she suddenly she feels a small hand on her knee. Alex jumps, heart in her throat when she opens her eyes to see her daughter staring up at her, tears in her own eyes. Alex is speechless, unable to find the right words to say and loathing herself even more.

No child should ever see its mother brought so low.

As it turns out, she doesn’t have to say anything. Salome sits next to her on the sofa, pulling the afghan resting on the back of the couch over both of them and curling up. She brings a hand up to stroke her mother’s hair. “It’s alright, mommy,” she whispers, and Alex feels fresh tears build behind her eyes. Salome kisses her cheek. “Everything will be alright.”

Alex wraps her arms around her daughter, tears still streaming down her face. If it weren’t for the aching in her heart and the memories of being so happy swimming in front of her eyes, Alex might have believed her.

XxX

When Matt finally leaves the hospital, the sky is dark and he has to take a cab. The drugs in his system have made him delirious, and driving now would be a stupid idea.

Even more stupid than driving with a broken hand and eyes full of tears.

It had been difficult, trying to keep everything quiet. The doctor had asked why his hand was broken and he’d told the truth -- he had punched a door. The anger in his voice at the time managed to persuade the doctor from asking any further questions.

Thankfully.

When they reach his home, he pays the driver and clambers out as gracefully as possible (which is even less graceful than he’s ever been, considering). The first thing he notices is Daisy’s car parked in front of his home, and he cringes.

What is she doing home? It’s only Saturday.

He doesn’t have time to contemplate her reasons, because she’s rushing out of the house, her expression a mix of anger and worry.

“Where the hell have you been!? I texted you a thousand times!” She shouts, advancing on him quickly. Matt tries to keep his expression schooled as he stands limply on the sidewalk. He really does not want to deal with this right now.

“Phone’s off,” he mumbles when she’s close enough. “Hospital rules.”

It’s as close to the truth she’s going to get -- wouldn’t do any good to tell her he turned it off the moment he reached the hotel.

“Hospital? Why were you-- oh my God! Your hand!”

Daisy begins to fret over him, hands running across his arm and lifting his injured hand to eye level. He flinches, the movement shooting pain through his every nerve ending despite the medication. The white cast that envelopes his hand from the middle of his forearm up to the tips of his fingers is heavy and he wishes she would just let it drop. Literally.

“What did you do?” She exclaims, eyes searching his face. He pulls his hand from her grasp as gingerly as possible, trying to refrain from outright glaring at her.

“I punched a door,” he shrugs. Why start lying now? Alex saw him do it; he told the doctor about it. Why lie to Daisy any more than he has been? He knows why he should. He knows every single reason.

“But why?” She inquires relentlessly, obviously unwilling to give up.

Matt runs his good hand through his hair, letting out a harsh sigh. “Look, I was being stupid, alright? I made a bloody mistake and I’m on a hell of a lot of medication right now. I just want to go to bed.”

She flinches visibly and he closes his eyes, guilt washing over him. She doesn’t deserve to be on the ass end of his self-hate, and yet he’s doing it anyway. He shouldn’t be allowed near people anymore. All he does is screw them up.

“Okay,” Daisy says slowly, looking around the yard searchingly. “Where is your car?”

“Left it at the hospital and took a cab.”

“Alright, you uh, go lay down. Get some rest and I’ll go pick it up.” She pulls out her phone, dialing an unknown number and nudges him in the direction of the house.

“Thank you,” he whispers, making his way to the door. He stops for a moment, turning around to take in his girlfriend. “Why are you back?”

“Marlene’s dog died this morning. I’ve been back since this afternoon. Oh, hey Cassie. Yes, I know it’s late -- no, nothing’s wrong. Well, something is wrong – hold on. Matt?”

He stops, hand on the knob.

“We’re talking more about this in the morning,” she warns, her expression stern. He sighs, nodding despite his reluctance.

That’s the last thing he wants to do.

Lie to her even more.

Chapter End Notes

Um, hi. Sorry about the angst. Except not really because Brinney and I have been looking forward to this bit for a while. Because we're mean people. Brinney wrote from Matt's point of view for this chapter and I -- Friday -- wrote from Alex's. Chapter title comes from Adele's Turning Tables. Thanks for all your comments and kudos!

I'll grow brave and I'll go Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes

Jack Daniels, a pack of fags, and an empty house.

That's all Matt needs to drown his pain.

Smoking is bad, blah blah, don't drink when you're depressed and alone, blah blah. He's heard it all before and right now, he couldn't care less. Alex Fucking Kingston broke his heart and left him to clean up the mess of their disgusting affair while she ran like a frightened child.

"Never mind that you're a child."

His jaw clenches, breath escaping harshly through his nose as he leans further into the garden chair he has sitting in his backyard. He lifts the bottle of JD to his lips with his good hand, glaring at the stark white cast that envelops his left hand.

Bloody stupid.

The alcohol burns his chapped lips and sore throat, bringing tears to his puffy eyes. The warmth had already spread through his body with his first sips, two hours ago. Now, with less than half a bottle of Jack and even less fags left, Matt is feeling a bit out of his mind and a lot angrier with Alex.

A. Lot. Angrier.

"Don't bleedin' love me. Bollocks," he slurs, reaching blindly beside him for the worn pack of smokes. He pops one out - dropping a few into his lap - and attempts to place it between his numb lips. It slips down his bare chest and he fumbles with it before finally succeeding in picking it up. He finds the lighter and silently thanks whatever god might exist for the still night.

As if there is one.

The first drag is harsh and he cringes, swallowing roughly around the dryness of his throat. What has she reduced him to? He feels like a wreck, probably looks about the same, and he doesn't even care.

No, all he cares about is feeling nothing by the time this night is over.

His phone vibrates across the ground by his feet, signaling a text. He bends over, spilling some of the brown liquid on his sweats as it tips beside him, and grabs it with an unsteady hand. It's from Daisy.

Just landed, how are you?

He doesn't respond. Instead, he uses trembling fingers to scroll through his contact list, coming across the person he wants fairly quickly. How can he be angry with her when he's so in love with her? When all he wants to do is call her and tell her that he misses her, that sleeping is so hard without her curls tickling his cheeks or the feel of her hand on his chest?

Alex (Cell), his phone reads, and he wants to call her. He will call her. He hits send and brings the phone to his ear, dropping the burning cigarette out of his mouth and to the ground.

The sound of the call tone grinds against his nerves and he silently wonders if she'll answer. It feels like she won't, but he needs her to. He needs to hear-

"You shouldn't have called," she says quietly, and it sounds strained.

"You dinnit have to answer," he replies just as quietly, leaning his head back. Her voice is enough to bring a calm over his body that alcohol could never accomplish. "I miss you."

"Are you pissed?" She asks incredulously, but doesn't give him time to answer. "I'm not doing this with you right now."

Matt pulls his phone away, staring down at the call disconnected screen that flashes before going back to the menu screen. With blurry eyes, he finds his way back to the directory, hitting send the moment her name is highlighted.

"Matt-"

"Shut up," he groans. "Just shut up an' listen to me, okay? I am not just some bloke you shagged an' left, Alex. I am someone who loves you so fuckin' much an' I will not stand for being treated like rubbish. I can't sleep without you. I-I can't breathe properly or even look at things the same. I'm so knackered, baby, an' there's nothin' I can even do about it because you're being so bloody unreasonable."

The line is silent, and for a moment, he wonders if she hung up on him again. But then she's speaking and breaking his heart all over again. "Are you quite finished?"

The sob that echoes through those words has him squeezing his eyes shut. He cradles the phone between his cheek and shoulder as he reaches for the liquor.

"The great Alex Kingston," he scoffs through the burn of the alcohol, coughing slightly. "Always so rude."

"Well, you know me - no heart," she laughs dryly.

"You're fuckin' thick," he whispers, blinking back tears. "You have one of the biggest-"

"I would rather be sleeping right now, Matthew, if you don't mind," she interrupts, using his full name. No one's called him Matthew in ages and he hates that it was her that did it. He hates that it sounds so condescending coming from her mouth.

"I do bloody mind, Alex!" He shouts, jerking up into a sitting position. The movement causes the bottle to fall to his feet, glass shattering loudly as the rest of the liquid spills across his socks.

"Sounds like you have a mess to clean up," she says matter-of-factly. "Now, why don't you be a good lad and pick up after yourself and I'll go to sleep, hm? Goodnight."

The call is disconnected again and he fights off the temptation to toss his phone next to the broken bottle. Wouldn't do him any good having to clean up more than one mess while he's completely out of his mind.

He also has to stave off the urge to call her back, to demand she listen to him. It isn't fair, the way she's treating him. She's acting as if there was never anything between them. As if they'd simply had a disagreement as friends. He wonders how she does it. How she makes it seem like his fingers had never coasted across the length of her body or that his mouth hasn't tasted all of her. He wonders how she pretends he didn't make her daughter happier that she'd seen her in ages, or that he treated her as properly as he could, considering it was an affair. A stupid mistake.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he chants, biting down on his cheek. He wants to call her back and have her whisper sweet nothings in his ear as he falls asleep. He wants her to tell him it will all be okay, because she's here for him and nothing else matters.

But, of course, everything else does matter.

He stares at the mess by his feet; he stares at his cast and his mobile. He stares blankly at nothing as he tries to gain his equilibrium enough to stand. It's more difficult that he imagined so he reclines across the garden chair instead, toeing his wet socks off and closing his eyes.

Feeling nothing isn't going to be a possibility after all, not when he's feeling far too much. So he simply lets his eyes close and allows the alcohol to do its job. Maybe, when he wakes up in the dim of the morning, he won't remember the fresh wound on his heart. Maybe, just maybe, he won't remember how easily she had brushed him off and stung him with her cold words.

As he drifts off into a restless sleep, he knows it isn't possible.

XxX

Salome has been asleep for two hours, and Alex has been lying awake and listening to her even breathing for just as long. Her daughter has barely left her side since that night earlier in the week, when Alex had come home and lost herself in grief on the living room sofa. Tonight, Salome has asked to sleep with Alex, and she just couldn't say no. Sleep has eluded Alex in the past few days and she can't say she minds the company.

She stares into the darkness and counts sheep, sings lullabies in her head, mentally catalogues the amount of sleep she could get if she dropped off right then. She thinks of anything she can to distract herself from the reason why she hasn't been sleeping.

Tomorrow is that damned baby shower and as soon as it's over, Alex is taking her daughter, hopping on a plane and going home. She doesn't want to be anywhere near England right now.

When her mobile lights up the pitch black hotel room as it buzzes on the nightstand, Alex reaches for it hurriedly, glancing down at the screen.

Matt.

She shuts her eyes tiredly, deliberating with herself. She knows she shouldn't answer it, that the best way to handle this whole mess is to cut Matt out of her life while they both deal with this in their own separate ways. But it has been days without hearing his voice and the temptation is too much for her.

Alex opens her eyes and answers the phone, bringing it to her ear. "You shouldn't have called," she says softly, hating herself for being so very weak when it comes to this man.

"You dinnit have to answer," comes the slurred reply. "I miss you."

"Are you pissed?" She swallows back tears, wondering why she answered in the first place. "I'm not doing this with you right now."

She hangs up, putting the phone back on the nightstand with a shaking hand and staring around the room. Falling asleep now suddenly seems like an impossible task, and she no longer even wants to. She doesn't want to do anything but stare blankly up at the ceiling until sunlight streams into the room and Salome wakes up, forcing her to be a responsible adult again.

On the nightstand, her phone lights up again, nearly vibrating right off the table as it buzzes. Alex sits up and reaches for it before it can wake up Salome, ready to tell Matt exactly where he can shove that bottle of Jack he has undoubtedly consumed. She almost hates him for it – being able to get utterly sloshed and forget. She would give anything to forget for a while, but having a ten year old little girl to look after doesn't leave much time for drunken self pity.

"Matt -"

"Shut up," he says, and his voice is slurred and gruff. "Just shut up an' listen to me, okay? I am not just some bloke you shagged an' left, Alex. I am someone who loves you so fuckin' much an' I will not stand for being treated like rubbish."

Alex shakes her head and bites her lip, eyes filling up as she grips the phone tightly to her ear.

"I can't sleep without you. I-I can't breathe properly or even look at things the same. I'm so knackered, baby, an' there's nothin' I can even do about it, because you're being so bloody unreasonable."

She knows the feeling. Sleep isn't coming easily to her either, and sometimes she literally forgets to breathe, and it takes a while to realize that the ache in her chest is because she isn't breathing, and not because everything seems to hurt all the time lately. Tipping her face to the ceiling in an effort to keep the tears at bay, Alex shuts her eyes and draws in a shaky breath. It doesn't work and the tears slip from her closed eyes anyway.

"Are you quite finished?" She asks, voice breaking, and it's only because she knows he probably won't remember in the morning that she doesn't care if he hears it.

"The great Alex Kingston," Matt scoffs, coughing. "Always so rude."

It stings, but she finds it in herself to laugh like his words don't matter to her. "Well, you know me – no heart."

"You're fuckin' thick," Matt whispers, and he sounds so heartbroken and so furious that Alex wishes she could fix this for him, make it better somehow. Make him get over her and turn his attention back to the woman he's dating. Why can't he just let her go? Doesn't he understand that she's doing this for him?

But that's a lie, isn't it? She is doing it for him, but that's not the only reason. She's doing it because the thought of him really, truly loving her scares her to death. It's a part of herself she isn't really willing to face just yet.

"You have one of the biggest - "

Alex interrupts him before he can get any further, anxious to get off the phone before she completely loses it with him on the line. "I would rather be sleeping right now, Matthew, if you don't mind."

His full name. Like she's his mother. He'll hate that.

"I do bloody mind, Alex!"

God, he's so angry. She doesn't want to think about what she might have shouted back in return before she's interrupted by the sound of broken glass. Whatever it is shatters rather spectacularly and she thinks he must be outside, because the house he lives in with Daisy is too plushly carpeted to shatter glass on impact.

She suddenly pictures him standing in his back yard under the night sky, blind drunk and gripping his phone like it's the only thing keeping him upright. Alex closes her eyes and wills away the image, because picturing him anywhere hurts too much. She wonders where Daisy is, and why she isn't taking care of her melodramatic, drunken boyfriend.

She wants to get in her car and go over there – he's so bloody close to her and she has never felt more far away. But he's drunk, and there's no talking to him when he's like this. She isn't going to leave her daughter to take care of him either. He has Daisy for that, and Alex can't run to him just because he's hurting. Not anymore.

"Sounds like you've got a mess to clean up," she says, managing to keep her voice steady. "Now why don't you be a good lad and pick up after yourself, and I'll go to sleep, hm? Goodnight."

Shutting her phone, Alex lets it fall from her fingers and off the side of the bed, too numb to bother with putting it back on the nightstand. She doesn't think of Matt's slurred and brokenhearted voice, or his anger, or his confession that he can't sleep or look at anything the same way anymore. She doesn't think about how familiar it sounds to her own life. She doesn't think about how she barely eats because somehow, she's never hungry anymore; or how she lies awake at night staring at her ceiling and willing herself to fall asleep.

For a long time, Alex sits in the darkness of her bedroom absolutely not thinking about these things, with her life falling apart around her.

Chapter End Notes

Hey guys! Sorry about the wait! My computer crashed on me and while I still managed to recover most of my files, my laptop is still not in working order. I've been using my sister's and she doesn't have Word so it took me a while to figure out how to upload chapters without it. Thank you all for being so patient, and thank you so much for your comments and kudos. Brinney and I really love hearing from you. In this chapter, Brinney wrote from Matt's point of view and I wrote from Alex's. The

chapter title comes from the song Chocolate and Cigarettes by Angus and Julia Stone.

When you're too in love to let it go Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes

Their first morning back in America, Alex is almost too busy trying to ignore the tightening in her chest nearly every time she breathes to notice Salome staring at the telephone. For a while, Alex stands on their patio in the backyard, under the terrace, staring out into the trees and hating how very sunny it is. She tells herself she’s just missing London’s clouds and the chill in the air at this time of year.

She doesn’t let herself think of the man that lives there, already finished with his day and probably preparing to crawl into bed beside his girlfriend while Alex stands on her patio a whole ocean away.

It wouldn’t have mattered before – before everything. When they were friends, or even when they were lovers. Because there had been phone calls and text messages and sometimes Alex would get a package in the mail with a gift for Salome and a sweet but often naughty note for her. They had been apart, but they had never lost contact. Being away hadn’t seemed so terrible then, because she never had a chance to feel the ache she feels now. Like every step she takes is pulling her further and further away, like she’s stretched so thin she might just snap.

The distance between Los Angeles and London has never seemed so vast.

When she finally turns from gloomily watching the palm trees sway in the warm breeze, she spies her daughter through the glass French doors, sitting at the kitchen table and biting her lip, staring at the telephone as though she can’t remember how to use it.

Alex is puzzled only for a moment before she remembers.

Oh.

Sometimes, she is so bloody selfish.

She has been so wrapped up in her own pain that she hasn’t given much thought to the fact that Salome has lost a good friend. Matt has been her pal ever since they met, and Alex has irrevocably

ruined that wonderful relationship between them. With each new layer of misery revealed, Alex hates herself a little more. When she’d begun seeing Matt, she hadn’t been thinking of the consequences to anyone else. She hadn’t even thought about the ramifications for herself. All she’d been able to think about were blue eyes that wanted her, fingers twirling a strand of her hair, soft words in her ear and a hungry mouth against hers. Nothing else had seemed important.

So bloody selfish.

Padding inside in her bare feet, Alex takes a seat next to her daughter and joins her in staring at the phone. They sit in silence for a moment until Alex can’t stand it anymore. “I’m sorry, sweetie.”

“Why can’t I call him, mom?”

It’s the first time Salome has mentioned Matt since those first few weeks after their breakup, when she’d asked why Matt hadn’t come by lately. Alex’s short, teary-eyed response had obviously been enough to deter her daughter from asking again. After Salome had found her that night, sobbing in the living room, she has been unusually compliant when it comes to minding her mother, hardly muttering a peep of protest when asked to brush her teeth or do her homework. Like she’s walking on eggshells around Alex, not wanting to upset her.

Kids shouldn’t be worried about things like that. Alex doesn’t want her daughter fretting over her, afraid she’ll break if handled improperly. It speaks volumes about her wonderful daughter, but it says even more about her atrocious parenting skills lately.

“You can see him on set, sweetheart, but you can’t call him while we’re away anymore and I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s my fault,” she says, refusing to let her voice waver. “Matt and I can’t be friends anymore, and so we can’t call him.”

“Why can’t you be friends?”

Alex looks away, closing her eyes. “Because mummy thought it was for the best. Matt needs to spend more time with Daisy, and less time with us, all right?”

Salome bites her lip. “I don’t want him with Daisy. I want him with us. It’s not fair!”

“Oh darling,” Alex breathes, reaching for her daughter and enfolding her in her arms. “I know. I know it isn’t. And I’m so sorry, my love.”

Salome curls a fist into Alex’s shirt, sniffling.

Alex thinks of Matt building a blanket fort with Salome in the middle of their living room – despite her protests that she was getting too old for such silliness, giggling when his gangly legs stuck out from underneath their creation. She thinks of Salome’s smile every time she spoke with him on the phone and the way he’d called her ‘his poppet’.

She thinks of Matt’s arms around her in the night, and how empty her bed always feels now. How empty everything feels – like some vital part of her is missing and she’ll never get it back. It’s a feeling of loss she doesn’t think she’ll ever get over. She and Salome have both lost someone dear to them. An important part of their lives is gone, and Alex vows that she won’t ever forget she isn’t the only one hurting right now.

“I miss him, mom.”

Pressing a soft kiss to her daughter’s head, Alex tightens her arms around her and sighs. “Me too, love. Me too.”

XxX

Miles and an ocean away, Matt sits in his living room, phone in hand, waiting.

He doesn’t want to think about how the call isn’t coming. He doesn’t want to think about how the call will never come.

But he does.

He stares down at his mobile, and thinks he’ll never hear the sound of Salome’s voice before he

tucks in for the night. He’ll never tell her to drive her mother as crazy as she can for him. What had Alex told her? What’s her reason for not calling him anymore? How is Salome handling it?

So many questions, and with answers that Alex won’t give to him easily. It‘s something he’d have to fight for and they do too much of that already. He doesn’t have the right to ask her personal questions anymore. He doesn’t have the right to miss her so much he could tear apart the whole of London in his agony.

But he does.

He misses her, them, so much and it has hardly been three weeks. Three weeks since he made that mistake of telling her he loved her; three weeks since she left him, bruised and broken, in a hotel room with tears pouring from both their eyes. He looks at his cast, biting down on his lip. Too many mistakes, indeed.

She’s giving in so easily, and he knows he should fight for her. He knows he will.

Matt clenches his good hand around his mobile, fighting off temptation to call her. It’s a battle he knows he will lose. It’s a battle he has lost three times in the past three weeks. The urge to hear her voice is always so strong that he can never pass it up, even if all they do is yell at each other. But it’s too early for her. Salome is still at home, preparing for whatever she’s going to do today. He can’t even remember if she’s attending school right now but he knows it is far too early.

So he waits.

He sits in his chair, in his dark living room, waiting. Daisy is asleep in his bed, sprawled out comfortably around the pillow he replaced himself with. The minutes tick by slowly and the urge to dial grows.

At the two hour mark, he flips his phone open, dialing the number he knows by heart. It doesn’t take her long to answer.

“Can we not, today? Please?” Alex sighs into the receiver, and oh, it is so wonderful to hear her voice again. He doesn’t say anything at first, simply listening to her breathe. He can’t let her go. It’s too hard. “Matt.”

“I can’t,” he gasps, but he doesn’t say anything else. He knows he doesn’t have to.

“I can’t,” he gasps, but he doesn’t say anything else. He knows he doesn’t have to.

“Yes, you can,” she states, pleading.

“How are you so sure? We can make this work,” Matt tells her, and the plea in his voice is so much more prominent than hers was. He sounds like a whining child and that realization is like a slap in the face.

“We can’t, Ma--”

“We can,” he interrupts her sharply, slamming his cast down on the arm of the chair. He winces, but the pain is gone as quick as it appeared.

"Matt, please," she whimpers, and he can hear the tears in her voice.

"Why won't you give us a shot? A real shot?" He's clutching the phone so tight in his grip, he's afraid it'll shatter, but he needs to know. He needs to understand why.

"I already told you why," Alex cries, and his chest tightens. When had they reached this point? When had everything gone so wrong?

'When you told her you loved her,' a voice in his head pipes up. He shuts his eyes and wills the tears to stay away, if only for a moment. He needs clarity. He needs to understand.

"And I don't believe it," he murmurs, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.

"I need you to," she begs. "And I need you to stop calling. Please, Matt, just…let me go, okay? Just let me go."

He wants to tell her he can't, because it's the truth. How can he let her go when she's the one thing in his life that he knew? That he completely understood and loved, wholeheartedly. He needs her like she needs this, but he doesn’t know why. Why is she so adamant about pushing him out of her life?

“I’ve tried,” he groans, resting his head against his upraised, injured hand.

“You haven’t tried enough. How many times, Matt? How many times do I need to tell you I don’t love you?”

“Until I start believing it or you?” He snaps and regrets it immediately because he hears her choked sob. He hears the way she breaks down quietly and he doesn’t want this.

“Shut up,” Alex manages. Her pain is palpable through the phone, through the miles and the water, and it’s because of him. It’s all because of him. “God, just please, don’t do this to yourself. Stop calling me, because it’s only going to make things worse.”

This is so different than the shouting and the yelling they’ve shared the last times he’s called her. This is melancholy and almost resigned. It only takes him a moment to realize that this was over way before it started. Tonight is the night he backs off and as much as it pains him, he makes a silent agreement with himself to try. Try to stay away from her, stop calling her. She needs this and he loves her enough to give it to her.

"Okay," he says brokenly. "Okay, I'm sorry. I wo-won't call again."

"Thank you," Alex replies quietly. And then she's gone. His Alex is gone, forever.

His Alex, the one who would laugh at his horribly naughty jokes; the one he’d smile at from the floor as he and Salome painted a landscape.

The one he danced with, the one he tickled and teased.

“I can’t do it,” he murmurs, the phone still held tightly against his face.

“Can’t do what, baby?” Daisy asks from the archway leading to the hall. He jumps visibly, turning to face her and trying to tuck his mobile away, inconspicuously.

“My uh,” he stops to clear his throat. Tangling his good hand in his hair, he offers her a sheepish smile. “My hand hurts quite a bit tonight. I haven’t been able to get to sleep.”

Daisy pads over to him softly in nothing but one of his shirts and kisses his forehead. “Did you take the medicine?” She asks quietly, running her hands across his cheeks in what she probably intends as a soothing gesture. But it feels so foreign, so wrong. Pushing the thoughts away from his mind, he forces himself to lean into her touch.

“Of course. I’m not completely useless,” he sighs. Her hands are too soft. ‘Too soft, too soft,’ his mind chants, and Matt fights a grimace.

“I’d beg to differ,” she laughs and and the sound is too high. She holds her hand out to him, a silent demand that he get up.

“Anyone who knows me would,” he agrees, accepting her outstretched hand. She guides him back into his bedroom, pulling the sheets open for him. She’s doting on him like he’s a child.

A child.

He can’t escape that word, can he? He’ll never be able to escape the fact that he is so young. Alex will always see him as the little boy who’d had an infatuation with her, an infatuation she’d merely indulged in because it felt nice to be wanted.

“Get in, you dope,” Daisy commands, pushing him towards the bed. He complies, sliding into the cold sheets and curling onto his side. He doesn’t even bother to take his sweatpants off. She curls in next to him, rubbing circles across his back. “Get some sleep, babe. I’ll have another dose of the prescription ready for you in the morning.”

“Thank you, love,” he whispers and there’s no feeling behind those words. Hasn’t she noticed he doesn’t sleep much anymore? It’s not the same.

This bed is all wrong and the body behind him is even more so.

So he pretends.

Chapter End Notes

A/N - Thank you all so much for your comments and kudos. We love you! Okay, Brinney wrote from Matt’s point of view and I wrote from Alex’s in this chapter. Chapter title comes from Coldplay’s Fix You.

The whole world is moving and I'm standing still Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes

Since that night nearly a month ago, Alex hasn't heard a word from Matt. In the first week, she checks her phone obsessively, half afraid and half hopeful that she has a missed call or text from him. But Matt is doing as she asked and respecting her wishes. He's leaving her alone. In the second week, Alex tries to tell herself that she's glad he has finally given up on her. Not hearing from him means that he's trying to move on, like she wanted him to. But it also means that she hasn't heard his voice in two weeks. She even misses the calls where they did nothing but cry and shout at each other because at least then she could hear him. At least then she knew he was out there thinking of her, loving her. Now, she doesn't know what he's doing or what he's thinking. It's easy to forget. Filming for Upstairs Downstairs means that she's traveling back and forth a lot, and when she's in America, she has friends to visit and she takes Salome to school and helps her with her homework when she isn't with Florian. When she's in London, she works tirelessly and doesn't let herself think of how close she is to Matt – and when Doctor Who starts filming again, she avoids the set next door like the plague. There isn't much time for anything else. Her schedule is so routine and systematic that Alex finds it easy to shut down. Her every thought is about taking care of Salome or about work or cleaning the house. She never lets her thoughts stray beyond that because if she does, forgetting won't be so simple. In the third week since the phone call, Matt is officially a past fling. But it wasn't just a fling, was it? It had been so much more than that, even if she had been too afraid to admit it to his face. When it comes to love, Alex is a coward, and letting Matt Smith break her heart in front of the whole world hadn't been something she was willing to risk. After a while, Alex acts almost on autopilot. Like some sort of machine, she goes through the motions of her every day life and refuses to let herself think of what she'd had and what could have been hers so easily, if loving Matt wasn't so very complicated. As if her love life hasn't left her with enough bruises, Alex had fallen for the one man who could never have a life with her, no matter how much either of them wanted it. It would never work, and she can admit that even if Matt can't or won't see it. If she had just had the willpower to say no when he showed up at her hotel that night, none of this would have happened. At the time, there hadn't seemed like any other answer than to press herself against him and let him kiss her. She hadn't wanted any other answer. Maybe even by then, it was already too late to turn back. Was there ever really another option? How could she look at Matt, be around him and see what an amazing, lovely person he is, and not fall so very far, so very fast? He had left her with no other choice but to love him. Alex isn't sure she would want to be deprived of that love, even now. She's selfish, and she wouldn't give up the time she spent with him for anything in the world. It was special, and in that brief, beautiful time together, Matt had taught her more about love and about herself than she thought possible. But it's over now and everything hurts.

So Alex doesn't think about it. It's easier. It's easier to be numb than to face what she's left with – memories and heartache. By the fourth week without any contact from Matt, Alex doesn't feel anything at all. XxX The first week after their agreement, Matt struggles with his need to hear her voice. It's a strong urge, so strong that he almost breaks his agreement to her and calls her twice. But he doesn't. He's doing as she asked. As she begged. So instead, he spends his time getting to know Daisy again. It's not as hard as he imagined it would be - she's a simple girl with simple wants and needs. She's a bit more clingy than he remembers and he has to stop himself from pushing her away in public. This is how they'd been before. Before Alex. So he allows it, even joins in. Anything to keep up the act. Once, he almost calls her by Alex's name (which is a mistake for many reasons but most importantly because she's nothing like Alex) and he plays it off as quickly as he makes the mistake, calling her 'airhead' instead. He pays close attention to her name from then on. The second week, it's easier. He doesn't cringe immediately at the thought of getting into bed with her, having her sleep curled into his side and breathing lightly. She doesn't talk in her sleep (like Alex), so he spends his nights just listening to the walls close in on him. Or yell at him. Whatever they're in the mood for. He can even almost climb into bed without wishing she was someone else. Someone older and quieter in her excitement. Though, he's always wishing she was someone else, so he supposes it's just not quite as loud in his mind. By the time the third week rolls around, (has it really been that long? What does she sound like again? What does she look like? He's forgetting - he can't forget. Please don't forget.) it's like a rhythm. He can go through his days, kiss her, make love to her without feeling like dying. He can call her up and banter with her like they did before. He even takes her out to her favorite places more than he once did. It's an atonement for the wrongs she isn't even aware of. He's tired of being a liar. It's sort of like going through the motions, he thinks. He knows what she wants, knows what her day is going to be like and what she's doing. He's there for her at night and in the morning, like he never was. He's doing things he's never done before, like letting her make all the decisions and just agreeing as if he truly thinks she's right. Liar, liar, pants on fire. In the fourth week, if he believes it hard enough, he can almost forget that he even had an affair

In the fourth week, if he believes it hard enough, he can almost forget that he even had an affair with Alex (though, why would he do that? He needs to remember). He can't lie to himself, however, no matter how easy it is to lie to everyone else. At night, he still wishes for curves and curls. He still doesn't sleep well, his mind racing as he tries so hard to keep the memories in tact. They're all he has anymore. At night, when Daisy is wrapped around his body in the most intimate of ways, there's always a passion missing. She's always going to lack something, somewhere. Looks, actions, touch. There's not enough of Alex in her and he's dying from it. He's slowly deteriorating and he can't do anything about it. Nothing will ever be the same.

Chapter End Notes

An extra chapter today just because it's kind of too short for Brinney and I to consider it a full chaptered update:) Enjoy and thanks so much for your comments! Brinney wrote from Matt's point of view for this chapter and I wrote from Alex's. Chapter title comes from the song World Spins Madly On by the Weepies.

Standing alone in a crowded room Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes

When Alex finally works up the nerve to visit the Doctor Who set, she’s almost finished filming for Upstairs Downstairs. It probably looks odd that she hasn’t dropped by to see her friends yet, but until now, she hadn’t been sure she could handle being so close to Matt without ruining her carefully-sculpted mask. Now, it doesn’t feel so much like a mask as it does her only face. She has become so good at showing the world a blank facade that, in a way, it has become a part of her. She can’t remember how to turn it off.

So when she opens the door and steps inside, her hands don’t even shake. She looks around the set and sees the crew hard at work, readying the next scene for filming. She doesn’t see Karen, Arthur, or him. They must be in Makeup.

Swallowing heavily, Alex tries to spot someone familiar, feeling out of place. She rubs the tips of her fingers nervously over her denim-clad thighs and wonders if maybe she should just turn around and walk back out again.

“Well, look who finally decided to pay a visit to the common folk!”

Alex laughs. She’d recognize that voice anywhere. Turning around, she finds Steven striding toward her with a grin and she can’t help but mirror him. In just a moment, she finds herself on the receiving end of a one-armed hug of surprising strength, and she returns it with genuine feeling, wrapping her arms around his waist. She always misses the Doctor Who family when she’s away and coming back always feels like a return home. “It’s good to see you,” she says, stepping back and beaming at him.

“And you, my River,” he says with a wink. “Set just isn’t the same without you.”

“Well I - ”

“Oh my god, it’s my daughter!”

Steven laughs loudly as Karen, having spotted her from across the set, darts past the cameramen in her robe, Arthur trudging along behind her. Alex offers a little wave. “Hello, mummy.”

Even when she reaches her, Karen doesn’t stop running, throwing herself at Alex and wrapping her arms around her neck. Finding herself with a mouthful of ginger hair, Alex laughs, wrapping Karen’s tall, slender body in a warm hug.

“Mother-daughter bonding,” Steven says dryly. “Is there anything more beautiful?”

Alex rolls her eyes, stepping back from Karen, who continues to hang on her arm. “You’re just so proud of yourself, aren’t you, clever clogs?”

Steven winks at her again and begins to stroll away, hands in his pockets. Over his shoulder, he calls, “Can’t be proud of what comes naturally.”

Snorting, Alex turns back to Karen just as Arthur reaches them, his pace much more sedate than Karen’s had been. Tipping his head in her direction, Arthur says, “Pond Junior.”

“Father, dear,” she says, pulling him into a hug.

He returns it instantly, patting her back. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” she says into his shoulder, and trying to sound like she means it.

Arthur squeezes her a little more tightly, like he doesn’t believe her, and then he lets her go, stepping back. “Well,” he says, smiling, “Karen tried to make coffee this morning and it was horrendous. Might be some left if you’re feeling brave.”

“Oi!” Karen smacks him on the arm. “I tried my best and Steven says that’s all that matters.”

Rolling his eyes, Arthur says, “He only said that so you’d quit stroking the coffee pot. It was weirding everyone out.”

“I hate you,” Karen grumbles. “See if I make coffee for you lot again.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel bad or something?”

“Hey,” Alex interrupts, holding up her hands even as she feels that familiar fondness at their bickering well up inside her. “No fighting in front of Pond Junior, parents.”

They both look properly chastised. “Sorry,” they mumble in unison.

Alex smiles. It feels good to be back.

And then, when she’s feeling stronger than ever, when she thinks that maybe this won’t be as bad as she had thought, that’s when she spots him – standing in that long green coat on the other side of the room, just staring at her, like nothing in this world could tear his gaze away. Alex’s breath leaves her in a rush and the world seems to tilt on its axis.

For a moment, she doesn’t have the strength to break eye contact. If she looks away now, she just might shatter. They stand a whole room apart – people and set props between them - but it feels like no distance at all; as though if she truly concentrated, she could feel his warm breath on her cheek.

He looks just as wonderful as she remembers. She had expected their time apart to change something, but God, he’s still everything. In that second, all of those things she has been refusing to think about come trickling through the little crack in the wall of her mind.

Her Matt.

The man she loves so much that love doesn’t even feel like a word adequate enough to express what she feels. The man she pushed away. The man whose voice she hasn’t heard in weeks. The man she wants to run across the set to and throw her arms around – damn the consequences.

Shivering with the sudden and volatile intensity of her longing, Alex hurriedly glances away. She had pushed him away for several reasons, and those reasons are still valid, no matter her collapsing defenses. The eye contact hadn’t lasted for more than a few seconds, but it feels like an eternity has passed. An eternity in which her whole world had been torn away, ripped apart and changed forever.

In the span of those few seconds, the carefully-built wall Alex has constructed around her has

crumbled, tumbling like a child’s building blocks around her feet. She feels everything, and so much more acutely now. The rush of it almost leaves her gasping, like she’s surfacing from the water after the current had almost drowned her.

It aches. Everywhere. Down to her very bones.

“Alex, tell him I don’t have a coffee pot fetish!”

“She doesn’t,” Alex says automatically, feeling dazed. She doesn’t realize until after the words are out of her mouth, how very choked she sounds.

It feels like all of the air has gone out of the room. Why doesn’t anyone else look like they’re choking on the nothingness?

For a moment, no one says anything and Alex swallows around the lump in her throat.

Arthur puts a hand on her arm. “You’ve been working too hard, haven’t you? I told you to take it easy.”

Karen is on the other side of her now, blocking her from everyone else in the room. “You look tired,” she says softly. “I’m sorry I jumped on you earlier. I was just excited to see you -”

“No,” Alex interrupts, voice stronger this time. She looks at them both, heart filled with so much fondness for them that it could burst. “I’m sorry. I just felt a bit dizzy all of a sudden. I’m quite alright now.” She smiles, forcing a bright grin that feels as fake as it is. “And don’t you dare apologize to me for that brilliant welcome – haven’t felt so loved since the last time I saw you.”

Karen laughs, looking relieved, and drapes an arm across her shoulders. “Well, in that case, let’s go find you some coffee.”

“Oh yeah,” Arthur says, beginning to lead them both away. “That’ll make her feel much better, Karen.”

They’re leading her further and further away from Matt, and Alex can’t bring herself to look over her shoulder and see if he’s still watching. She wants to be angry with him, for ruining everything

with a mere glance. After weeks of numbness, the feeling has returned to her life and everything is so much brighter than it was before.

The pain is still there, but just as vivid is the love. It hasn’t faded in the slightest. If anything, it burns brighter than ever. She should have known getting over Matt Smith could never be so easy. But this is the first step, seeing him and not instantly falling to her knees. She hadn’t run to him and begged him to take her back – she’d wanted to, but she hadn’t. She had been strong, and she would have to continue to be so, if she wanted to get through this.

Eventually, with time and practice, eye contact would be easy.

“Well then you make the coffee, Darvill,” Karen snaps. “It’s not like you’re so much better at it. Don’t think I’ve forgotten when you accidentally poured it into your pocket instead of a mug!”

This time, when Alex laughs, it’s almost genuine.

XxX

It's harder than he imagined, seeing her so close. It's been a month since their last conversation. A month since she literally begged him to stop phoning her.

But now, here she is, standing so far yet so close to him, laughing with Karen, though it doesn't really reach her eyes. He wonders how she's handling this. How she can so easily pretend that nothing happened between them. It's harder than pretending that nothing is actually happening. That he's not spending his free time thinking about how amazing her hands feel in his hair, or how soft she is in all the right ways.

It is so much harder thinking he'll never enjoy any of that again. He'll never get to kiss her soft lips, or hold her in the night. He'll never get to spend his nights at her little place when she's here or paint with Salome ever again.

Oh, Salome.

He’ll still get to see her when Alex brings her. They’ll still get to goof around and play cards, but it's not the same.

None of it will ever be the same.

God, he just wants her back. He wants to take back his confession of love, because at least before that he knew he had her. He knew she was there for him when he couldn't take Daisy's insults any more, or if Karen had pushed one too many buttons (though he tried his best to never let her notice).

She looks at him, for just a split second, and his world falls apart. Her beautiful green eyes hold so much pain in them. She’ll never master hiding her feelings from him.

Doesn’t she see that this is hurting both of them? Doesn’t she know he’ll do anything for her; that all he wants to do is spend time with her and her daughter, like a family?

But no, there’s no room for him in her world anymore.

But doesn't she know there's no him without her?

He doesn’t know how to exist without her. Everything he does, everything he says carries no meaning. He’s trying so hard with Daisy. He’s doing right by her, like he should - like she deserves. Oh, but she deserves so much more.

He contradicts himself far too often, he knows.

He feels he deserves Alex’s love, yet he’s too much of a failure to deserve Daisy’s.

He’s worthless. He doesn’t deserve either of them.

Matt watches as Karen and Arthur lead Alex away from the room, Arthur glancing his way, just once, before they’ve disappeared. Alex doesn’t spare him another glance and he can’t blame her.

He’s not really a sight for her sore eyes, is he? He shoves his hands into his pockets, backtracking his way out of the room and back outside. The crisp air does nothing for his aching lungs and he manages to keep his hand from his face.

Last time, Makeup had yelled at him for scrubbing off the foundation.

Not that he cares.

Not about much. Not any more.

XxX

When he’s finally released from set for the day, Matt takes a detour to the nearest pub. It’s his first time drowning his pain in alcohol since that night, that first call of five. He can’t really be bothered with the people who recognize him, asking him for spoilers for the show and autographs.

Grown men in a pub, asking him for autographs.

It’s comical, really.

He brushes them off as nicely as possible, letting them know that he wants to be alone. They’re polite enough to leave him to his pint, and he appreciates it.

As the time ticks by and he spends more and more of his money on beer, his mind fogs and the pain from the day, from seeing Alex, always so beautiful even in her sorrow, washes away. He begins to think of Daisy, probably out and about on the town, undoubtedly worrying about him constantly.

He should marry her, he thinks.

At least she cares; at least she wants him.

That’s worth more than anything.

A little drunk and a little more out of his bleeding mind, Matt stands abruptly from his stool,

dropping some more money onto the counter before bounding outside for the nearest jewelry store. It’s almost closing time, but they let him in thanks to his status.

He picks the first ring he sees. The jeweler asks him if he’s sure, glancing over Matt warily. As if he knows.

As if he’s made this mistake before.

Refusing to think it’s a mistake (because it isn’t - Daisy deserves the best and he’s going to give it to her, dammit) he pays the full fee with his card. He’ll wait, though. He’ll wait to propose.

He’s not stupid enough to do it while he’s pissed.

Though, it sounds like a right good idea at the moment.

XxX

It doesn’t take him long -- a week at the most, to finally set up a way to propose to her. He’s almost chickened out of it twice, thanks to reminders of curls and green eyes. But he steeled his resolve time and time again; he’s going to propose to Daisy Lowe, tonight, in their shared home.

He stands next to the table, fiddling with the tablecloth and the candles and the cutlery (‘What am I doing oh god what am I doing?’), making sure everything is right and perfect.

This is the right thing to do. Daisy deserves this and this is what Alex wants him to do. She wants him to move on and have a life with someone his age; who is he to deny what she wants for him?

Oh god, Alex.

Matt straightens his coat (fancy, because that’s what you wear when you’re proposing, right? You wear fancy clothes) and tries to calm his nerves.

He’s doing the right thing.

Oh, who’s he kidding? He’s doing the wrong thing. He’s making the only choice he can (‘Don’t lie to yourself -- you could leave her. Spare her the pain of being with a man who doesn’t love her.’) and he’s moving on with his life.

But there’s no moving on for him, he knows. He knows that he’ll forever remember the feel of her experienced touch, her exquisite kisses. He’ll remember it all, even through old age and grey hair. He’ll remember everything.

He’s pulled from his reverie when he hears the front door slam shut (‘Stop this, don’t do this. This is wrong.’) and footsteps through the living room. He clears his throat, stands a bit straighter, and waits.

Daisy enters the room, calling out his name. She pauses, taking in him and the romantic dinner table, shock on her face.

“What’s this then?” she asks, her voice light and her eyes teasing.

(‘Matt, you’re being an idiot. You’re making the wrong choice.’)

“Romantic dinner,” he says with a forced grin, hoping his voice didn’t sound as strained as he thought it did.

“Aw, aren’t you a sweetie?” Daisy smiles, padding in to give him a kiss. He returns it, a little too forcefully, and then helps her out of her jacket. “What’s on the menu?”

He can’t stop himself. He can’t keep up pretenses any longer and the words are ripped from his throat before he has the chance to finally listen to his mind: “Will you marry me?”

He doesn’t see her face - her back is turned towards him - and he begins to doubt her answer. He thought she’d say yes, just because it’s him and they’ve talked about this.

They’ve talked about marriage. Why isn’t she answering?

He jumps a bit at the sound of her laugh, backing up, hurt. She turns, but there are tears in her eyes. She’s crying and laughing, and he doesn’t understand why.

“Of course I will!” She shouts, jumping on him and showering his face with kisses. The knot in his chest tightens (‘What did you expect? Her to tell you no? You’ve really screwed up.’) and his eyes well with tears.

They hold each other for a while, her talking excitedly about what she wants in the wedding as the tears continue to stream down her face.

He’s thankful that his face is buried in her neck, because he’s crying for a whole different reason.

He just made the biggest mistake of his life. How was Alex going to take it? What would her reaction be? For a moment, he can’t breathe, can’t think, but then he remembers this is what she wanted for him.

He would wait to tell everyone until he could see her face. See the happiness that he finally did what she wanted him to.

The tears come harder, and he doesn’t realize until he’s gasping for air and Daisy’s whispering in his ear about how she understands. She’s excited, and oh, she wants a June wedding.

A wedding.

What on Earth did he just do?

Chapter End Notes

Hello loves! Sorry for the late posting today but it couldn’t be helped -- our lovely beta Trialia got it to me as soon as she could but I’ve been in class all day and haven’t been able to post it. Thank you all so much for your comments and kudos -- Brinney and I are so grateful to each and every one of you. In this chapter, Brinney wrote from Matt’s point of view and I wrote from Alex’s. The chapter title comes from the Taylor Swift song Story of Us.

Sometimes it hurts instead Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes

A week after her silent but jarring encounter with Matt and her first day of filming for Doctor Who, Alex is late getting to the set – Salome had been in a bit of a mood and getting her up and ready to spend the day with a babysitter had been more difficult than usual. As she rushes through the door, mess of curls pulled back and sunglasses hanging from her mouth as she rummages through her handbag for her buzzing mobile, she realizes that she hasn't really missed much. Instead of seeing the crew filming and stagehands scurrying around behind the set, she sees everyone standing around talking, Styrofoam cups in hand. Confused, she stops in the middle of the room and answers her phone, glancing around the room. "Hello?" "Mum?" Salome asks, and Alex sighs. "Yes, love." Salome begins to explain what she and the babysitter are going to do that day, wonders aloud whether or not she should take her new sweater with her when they go out, and complains about how she hates the way the babysitter makes the eggs . Alex only half-listens, responding in all the appropriate places as she tries to understand why everyone seems to be celebrating, and just what she has missed. Her eyes land on Matt in the corner of the room, surrounded by people and looking entirely too lovely for such an early hour of the morning. He looks up from the conversation he seems to be having with Beth and his eyes meet hers. Alex takes an unconscious step back but she can't seem to look away from him, almost hypnotized by the nostalgic, yearning look on his face. It hasn't gotten any easier, meeting his gaze. She had thought time would make it hurt less, but so far, she has been proved wrong. It still takes her breath away, every time. Matt's eyes are regretful as he watches her, but he doesn't make a move to come toward her and when Beth touches his arm to get his attention, he quickly glances away. A little shaken by their wordless encounter, Alex comes back to herself to hear Salome saying her name repeatedly with increasing frustration. "Y-yes, I'm here. Sorry darling." She takes a deep breath, turning away from the room full of people. "I'm at work right now, sweetheart. Can we talk about this when I get back?" Arthur approaches her just as she's hanging up and tossing her phone back into her bag, and she smiles at him and jerks a thumb in the direction of the impromptu party. "What's all this for?" Frowning a little, Arthur offers her a cup and Alex realizes it's champagne. "You haven't heard?" he asks, and she shakes her head, sipping from her cup. "Matt asked Daisy to marry him last night." Arthur gestures around them wryly. "Apparently she said yes." Alex feels all the blood drain from her face at once. The cup of champagne suddenly feels like a dead weight in her grasp; she places it on the table next to her with a shaking hand. "Oh?" she says, hoping her voice doesn't sound as breathless and hollow as she thinks it does. If Arthur notices, he doesn't say anything. "Yeah, pretty spontaneous, it seems." Quickly scanning the room for Matt, Alex finds him where he was before, talking to Steven and

Quickly scanning the room for Matt, Alex finds him where he was before, talking to Steven and Karen now. He's smiling – that lovely, bright smile she's always been so fond of – and he looks like she is the furthest thing from his mind. The way it should be. Alex suddenly feels as though she might be sick, like all the air has been sucked out of the room and no one else seems to notice that she's suffocating. "Excuse me," she chokes out, and she knows Arthur has to have noticed the waver in her voice, however much she tries to hide it. Right now, she can't bring herself to care. Walking quickly from the room, she makes it into the hallway before she lets the hot tears sting her eyes. She strides blindly down the corridor in the general direction of the loo, hoping it's empty. She bursts into the room and finding it unoccupied, she flips the lock on the door and leans her back against it, sliding slowly down to the floor. Alex tucks her legs up to her chest and tries to take a deep breath. To her horror, she feels the hot tears in her eyes begin to slide down her cheeks. She puts a hand over her mouth to stifle a sob and leans her head back against the door. She thinks of Matt shopping for a ring, that ridiculous grin on his face when he finds just the right one. She thinks of him planning his proposal and getting down on one knee. She thinks of him sliding the ring onto Daisy's finger before she throws herself at him and wraps her arms around his neck. Last night. When she'd been tucking Salome into bed and curling up on the sofa with her arms wrapped around herself, watching The Philadelphia Story on her own in the dark, Matt had been proposing. Alex takes a shuddering breath and tries to pull herself together. This is what she wanted, after all - for Matt to be with someone his age, someone who would make him happy and not cause a scandal. Someone who doesn't come with all the baggage she carries around with her. Someone he can have children with. She broke things off with Matt so that he could have the chance to have those things and not throw his whole life away by tying himself down to someone like her. She hadn't wanted him to feel obligated – like he would be breaking Salome's heart if he walked away. So she made him leave. He's too young to be so miserable, but she can handle it just fine. Heartbreak is something Alex has always been well-versed in. xXx Matt watches her leave, heart racing in his chest. It wasn't worth it, he thinks, announcing his engagement to Daisy on the set, just to see her reaction. Wow, he's a right twat, isn't he? The look of heartbreak on her face when she was speaking to Arthur, who was undoubtedly telling her the news, made all his plans, all his ideas, seem petty and childish. "Of course they were, you git," he whispers harshly to himself. Karen glances at him curiously, head tilted. "What was that?" she asks, confused. He merely shakes his head, excusing himself. He places his cup down next to Alex's discarded one as he follows her path to the hall. She would have gone to

the loo, he knows, and he strides purposefully in that direction. Her destroyed green eyes flash in his mind when he comes to stand by the door to the loo. What is he supposed to say to make this right? 'Hey, sorry I proposed to my girlfriend, please stop being sad?'She's the one who caused this. She's the one who shoved his love back in his face so adamantly, claiming he was a dolt for thinking she returned the feelings. Matt lets his forehead drop against the door silently, eyes stinging. When their eyes had met, he'd wanted nothing more but to gather her in his arms and regain everything they had. The stolen kisses, the long nights, everything. He doesn't want to be engaged to someone he didn't love, but how else is he supposed to get on with his life? Before Alex, he and Daisy had been solid. Everything had been working out as it should have been. Now everything is a mess and he blames her. Her beautiful smile, her soft touch. He blames the way she kisses with such unadulterated passion, the way she cares for her daughter more than she cares for anyone else. He blames the way she moves and can make the most awkward moments seem completely right as rain. He blames her for making him fall in love with everything she is. Alex Kingston, one of the most beautifully brilliant people he's ever met, is on the other side of this door, falling apart and contradicting every word she ever spat at him and there's absolutely nothing he can do. He can't yell at her for being stupid, he can't kiss her and beg her to come back to him. None of that had worked before, why would it now? "Alex," he whispers and it hurts. There are no pretenses between him and this door. There's no pretending everything is as it should be, because no one knows. No, it's just him, his feelings, an inanimate object and the unaware love of his life. He wants to punch the wood. He wants to bang on it and force his way inside. He wants to stand here and wait for her to open the door, he wants her to let him hold her and comfort her like he had when Salome had come down with a serious case of the flu and her father had been too far away, too busy, to come and check if she was all right. Instead, Matt pulls himself away reluctantly, wiping furiously at the tears that stain his cheeks. She'd wanted this, so she'd have to deal with it, just as he is. It takes all of his strength to walk away, back to the crowd of people celebrating his engagement, but Matt does it with his head held high and his emotions pushed into the back of his mind. He will plaster a fake smile on his face, take the congratulatory hugs in stride and breathe through it. If nothing else, he'll forget it's all a lie and maybe, maybe be able to live with her choices and his. If not, there's always running away. If playing the Doctor has taught him one thing, it's that running is sometimes the best choice. Maybe not the smartest, but the best. xXx Thankfully, they don't have any scenes together that day and Alex manages to avoid Matt for the most part. She tries to distract herself from thinking too much about the fact that Matt is someone's fiancé now but even when she's saying her lines and swinging River's gun around, she can't forget. It certainly doesn't help that occasionally throughout the day, yet another person will come up to Matt and clap him on the back, congratulating him on his engagement. Once, Alex doesn't look away from the spectacle in time and she sees Matt's answering smile,

bright and frozen. She likes to think she knows him well enough to know when he's being sincere and when he isn't, but at this point, she has no right to claim such a thing. Maybe that smile is genuine; maybe he's truly happy and looking forward to his future with Daisy. It hurts to think of it, but god, she hopes so. She wants him to be happy – this man who gave her those few beautiful months together and all those happy memories of feeling wanted and adored. He deserves to be happy. It hasn't been easy, filming again with Matt since their breakup, but she likes to think she has managed fairly well in acting like nothing is wrong. But today is different. Occasionally, Alex has to remind herself to act like she's fine. Like it doesn't hurt to just stand there and breathe. At the end of the day, when filming has wrapped for the night and she's on her way out the door, she is so distracted by thoughts of 'breathe' and 'I just want to go home to my child and forget this bloody awful day ever happened' and 'breathe, for god's sake' that she isn't paying much attention to where she's going. When she hears a distinct grunt of pain or shock – perhaps both – as she opens the door to the studio, she glances up in surprise to find Matt standing on the other side of the door, a hand to his forehead. "Oh god," she says, dropping her handbag. "I'm sorry! Are you all right?" Matt nods, eyes scrunched and mouth twisting in a grimace. "Probably deserved that," he mutters. Alex frowns. "What?" "Nothing," he says, straightening and putting his hand down. "Quite a solid door they've got." "I'm sorry," she says again. Inching forward a bit, Alex tries to get a closer look at his forehead in the dim light of the studio car park, searching for a bruise. "It's not bleeding, but it looks a little red." "S'all right," Matt shrugs, smiling a little. "Never do look where you're going, do you, Kingston?" She finds herself smiling back at him before she remembers that he isn't about to take her in his arms and demand that she kiss his injury better, like some sort of petulant child. Those days are gone. She'll never kiss his forehead or his lips or that ridiculous chin ever again. And just like that, the smile slides right off her face and she's left looking at her shoes and blinking back tears. Matt says nothing, glancing away from her, and she's too busy trying not to cry in front of him to see what expression he's wearing. Probably one of pity. Looking up again and pushing an errant curl from her eyes, she forces another smile, but this one feels fake and she knows he can tell the difference. "I hear you have some exciting news," she says. Matt only stares at her, pain in his eyes. "Alex - " She cuts him off before he can get any further – too afraid of whatever he might say to let him continue. "I'm sure the ring is beautiful; you always did have wonderful taste, didn't you?" She glances away. "Have you set a date yet?" For a moment, she thinks Matt won't answer her, but finally, he quietly says, "Two months from now."

Breath catching in her throat, Alex closes her eyes. "So soon?" "Daisy wants a June wedding," he says softly, and the tone of his voice forces Alex to open her eyes and look at him. When she sees the tears in his eyes, she wants to cross the short distance between them and wrap her arms around him. She wants to stroke his hair and make it better, tell him that he's doing the right thing and that he doesn't need to feel sad for her – she'll go on. She always does. Instead, she says, "I'm sure it will be lovely." He nods, still staring at her with wide eyes but he doesn't try to speak again and for that, she's grateful to him. She can't talk about his wedding any more and still be expected to remain a calm, rational person. Lifting her eyes to his, she pulls herself together and smiles, managing to breathe out, "Congratulations, Matt. I-I'm happy for you." Not waiting for an answer, and not entirely sure she would get one from him anyway, Alex picks up her handbag again and walks past him out into the car park. She doesn't let herself look back, choosing instead to rummage through her bag for her car keys. The tears in her eyes make it a bit hard to see but she manages, telling herself that at least it's over now. Tomorrow, they have scenes together and their encounter just now will make it easier to get through them. It'll only get better from here. Before she knows it, he'll be just a fling she had with a co-worker once. Alex unlocks her car and slides into the driver's seat. For a moment, she just sits there and tries to convince herself that it won't be so bad. That by the time Matt's wedding arrives in June, she'll be sending the happy couple a new toaster and she won't have to fake a smile around Matt or his new wife. Eventually, it won't hurt anymore. Resting her forehead against the steering wheel, Alex shuts her eyes and releases a shaky sigh. There are only so many lies she can tell herself. xXx He's doing a lot of watching her walk away today. He can't say he enjoys it as much as he used to, when he'd watch her arse sway to and fro with a smirk. Now all Matt can think about is how wrong everything is. There are so many things he had wanted to say in that moment. He'd wanted to tell her what a stupid idea it was to ask Daisy to marry him when he is still so in love with her. He'd wanted to tell her that she's thick for trying to hide things from him. He's being so contradictory. Just hours ago, he was telling himself he was going to deal with this and move on, and now here he is wishing for things that can never happen, like the extremely hopeless sap he is. Not even the whack on the head from the door can dull the ache in his chest as he watches her for what seems like an eternity - retreat into the dark car park. He's still standing in the dim light outside the set when he finally hears her car zoom out, carrying her further and further away from him, as if physical distance is the only thing that can accomplish that. If he thought the look of utter heartbreak on her face earlier was horrible, he'd been so off the mark. It was watching her pretend to be happy for him as her eyes rimmed red. It was hearing her

telling him congratulations as her voice cracked. It was watching her walk away from him again, still believing this was right; that this is what should be done. He thinks of the ring he bought Daisy a week ago, and the drunken thought of throwing it all away for someone who wants him instead of the one who kept pushing him away. He's never been known for making the best of decisions. The two times he ever felt right in what he was choosing, was when he decided to audition for the role of the Doctor and when he went to Alex's hotel that first night. And now he's making all the wrong ones. He refrains from punching the metal door that had so rudely slammed into him earlier, knowing his hand can no longer take any sort of pressure. The joints still ache from the last time. It takes too much work to even sign his name anymore. He deals with it. Just as he promised himself he'd deal with this. He steps down off the pavement, hands in his pockets, and strides towards his car. He doesn't get in it when he reaches it, merely taking in his face in the tinted window. It makes his face distorted, stretching his nose even wider; it elongates his chin and he looks like the screwed-up mess he feels. He does not want to go home to his fiancée. He doesn't want to go anywhere, really. There's no place that feels like home anymore, not for him. He's engaged to a woman he doesn't love, the woman he does love is avoiding him like the plague, and his friends have no idea what's going on. Staring at himself in the passenger-side window of his car, Matt has never felt more alone. He's going to have to help plan this wedding, go through with it and live unhappily ever after, and feel alone all the while doing it. Daisy doesn't deserve this, he knows. Daisy Lowe deserves a man who can love her with all his heart and then some, and there was a time when he was that man. But then his heart was stolen away, so quickly, by a woman with wild hair and sparkling green eyes and her beautiful, fantastic little girl. Green eyes that have lost their sparkle and wild hair that's seemingly uncared for, unless done by the hairdresser on set, and a little girl that he hardly sees anymore. "I love you," he whispers into the cold air, cheeks marred by his now-flowing tears. Might as well get them out before he goes home to his loving fianceé, who seems to be hyper-aware of his every emotion lately. Matt rests his head against the cool frame of his car, gasping for breath as a drowning man would. That's exactly what he's doing, he knows. He's drowning. He's drowning in thoughts of what he had with Alex Kingston; what he lost with her. He's drowning in the 'ifs' and 'maybes.' He's drowning in the bittersweet memories and the all too real sorrow. He wonders if he'll ever remember how it feels to breathe easy and feel the way he should feel. Feel love for his soon-to-be wife, feel the once-easy air that used to flow between him and Alex.

He highly doubts it. He's too in love with her for anything to ever be the way it was, just as she was. Biting at the inside of his cheek, he moves around to the driver's side of his car, slipping in just as the storm that has been brewing all day lets loose. He stares blankly at the rapidly falling droplets on his windscreen, takes a deep breath, and puts the key in the ignition. "One day," he tells himself, flipping the windscreen wipers on, "it will all fade. One day, I'll be numb, and you, Alex Kingston, will be nothing but a tiny blip of pain on my heart." He knows the words are a lie, but they keep him sane. Lies are the only thing that helps him get through the long seconds, the never-ending minutes of his days. He'll embrace them like he embraced his sorrow. Easily.

Chapter End Notes

We LOVE you all and your amazing reactions to the angst. Thanks so much for your comments and kudos:) And thank you to Trialia for being our lovely beta! I wrote from Alex's point of view for this chapter and Brinney wrote from Matt's. Chapter title from Adele's Someone Like You.

You said move on, where do I go? Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes

Matt never thought wedding planning would be so difficult. He always figured he’d have simple things, like white tablecloths and the priest from the church he went to as a child. A small church, of course, because grand is too much. Big churches make his head spin, and an outside wedding would just make him sneeze. So a small wedding inside a small church.

Women make these things difficult, though.

Especially when you’re marrying Daisy Lowe, who wants a big church with an outside reception and the priest that has the best credentials (why does that even matter? His childhood priest would have been perfectly fine) and exquisitely designed tablecloths.

And let’s not forget about the flowers, the invitations, the decorative lace and bows, and oh, the colors. The colors of everything.

White is too bland, Daisy says. What about off-white? Ivory maybe. Eggshell for the invitations, I think.

‘Bloody hell, woman, I don’t care.’

And he really doesn’t. He doesn’t care what it’s going to look like or how much money she’s going to spend. Not anymore. This can be her perfect wedding, because he’s definitely not going to have his. Not with the things he wants. Not with the woman he wants.

Maybe he should care, he thinks, as he looks at the prices of the flower arrangements. Outrageously high for a group of plants that will wither and die in a matter of days.

“What were you thinking, for flowers, baby?” Daisy asks him as she loops her arm through his. They continue their stroll through the displays, the scent of her perfume warring with the natural floral scents around them. He much prefers the scent of the flowers than her, to be perfectly honest.

Well, to be perfectly honest, it’s because it reminds him most of the perfume Alex always wore. The one that was light in intensity and yet floral in a beautiful way.

Coming back to himself, he realizes Daisy had asked him about his choice of flowers.

Right.

“Peonies,” he says without thinking. Peonies?

XxX

“Favorite flower?” He whispers against her lips. She laughs softly, arching into his touch as his fingers dip lower and lower.

“We can, ah…stop the twenty questions, now, dear.. We left the living room a long time ago,” she chides. Her legs fall open against the mattress, giving his hand room to move around.

“Answer the question, Kingston,” he demands between nips on her chin. His middle finger slips inside her heat, just barely, and her hips arch harshly.

“Peonies, if you… must know,” she gasps. Her hand wraps around his bicep, nails digging deep into the skin. He smiles, kissing her fully as he slams his finger deep inside, quickly followed by another…

XxX

“…don’t like peonies. I was thinking more along the lines of something simple, like daisies. Because, well, you know, my name is Daisy and I think it’s kind of…”

Whatever Daisy says falls on deaf ears as Matt tries to control his reaction to the pain that has just blindsided him. He had bought Alex a dozen peonies after that night, sending them to her doorstep with a small note that read, “Almost as beautiful as you are.” The ensuing phone call that had followed was right worth it, he thinks.

But flower arrangements for his wedding to Daisy aren’t.

Suddenly, Matt just wants to get as far away as he can from any type of flower. He wants to escape Daisy’s clinging grasp and twenty questions. He’s marrying the wrong woman and yet, he’s still going through with it.

He knows he’s making all the wrong choices. He knows it better than anyone, but he’s doing this for her. For Alex Kingston, who had requested he treat Daisy properly. The woman who wants him to move on, forget her and have a happy life.

A happy life.

The idea of a happy life without Alex is an outright ridiculous one. Why doesn’t she realize that? He’s paid to act every day but he never could act when it came to her. He practically gave himself away the day he announced his engagement. Standing outside the studio with her that day, he’d wanted to let it all out. Tug her into his arms and not let her go; not until she realized that he was never going to get over her.

But he didn’t.

He could really do with a drink right now.

When is he supposed to meet up with Karen and Arthur? Seven. Right. When does seven come, again?

Too far away, if you ask him, as Daisy drags him further and further into the flower displays, stopping at all the daisies and ‘oohing’ and ‘awwing.’

Peonies are much prettier anyway.

XxX

The street café is busy, but not overly populated since it’s just past the dinner rush. Twinkle lights

have been strung throughout the trees to give off a sweet, romantic glow and the smell of cappuccino and whipped cream is prominent in the warm evening breeze.

It’s perfect but all Alex can think is, ‘What the bloody hell am I doing here?’

This is all Regina’s fault. Back in America again for the last two days, Alex had dropped Salome off for a sleepover with Regina’s daughter Molly, and they’d somehow gotten onto the subject of Alex’s status as a single mother. Regina couldn’t seem to have a conversation with her without prodding her for information on her personal life. Alex had politely replied that she wasn’t seeing anyone – most people don’t count being wholly in love with an engaged man and nursing a broken heart as ‘in a relationship’ – and things had snowballed from there, despite her reluctance. Regina had a male friend who was single as well – Max – a pediatrician who has never seen an episode of Doctor Who or ER in his life. ‘You’re always saying you need a nice, average guy!’

Yes, she did say that, once upon a time months and months ago. It feels like a lifetime. That lifetime and one broken heart later, the man she wants is anything but average.

She isn’t ready for this.

But somehow, she’d found herself thinking of Matt in London, planning his wedding and going out with his friends and moving on with his life. She needs to do the same, whether she feels like it or not. When was the last time she had gone out with friends and genuinely had a good time? The last time she did something that didn’t involve work or her daughter? She can’t dwell on what she lost forever, and she doesn’t want to end up spending the rest of her life alone.

And so Alex finds herself sitting across from this man she has never met before and trying to make awkward conversation while silently despairing the fact that she has apparently forgotten how to date.

When did she get so old?

She must not be doing too terribly because Max hasn’t left yet, and he’s smiling at her. She tries to smile back but it feels so fake that she stops, glancing down at her coffee.

“So what do you like to do for fun?” He asks, and his attention is solely on her. Usually, she might find that flattering. Right now, she just wants him to look away so she doesn’t have to keep up the constant façade of cheerfulness.

In her head, she replies to his question, ‘Dancing spontaneously in the living room, feathers, handcuffs, singing into wooden spoons while making dinner, tickling, kissing, making fun of news anchors on the evening telly -- ’

She stops herself, making a fist in her lap and sighing quietly.

Looking up with a soft smile, she shrugs. “I don’t really get much free time, with my schedule. But when I do I usually like to spend as much time as I can with my daughter.”

“Regina mentioned you had a daughter,” Max says. “I look forward to meeting her.”

“What about you?” She asks. “What do you like to do?”

While Max begins to talk, Alex lets her mind stray, remembering to nod and hum thoughtfully in the appropriate places.

On the outside, she looks politely interested, but inside, she’s wondering when she can go home without appearing rude. She’s studying his features in the café’s twinkle lights and finding him lacking.

He’s certainly attractive – that isn’t the problem.

The problem is that he’s broad shoulder and rugged, and she misses long limbs, a thin frame and adorable clumsiness. The problem is that his hair is blonde and cropped short, and she can’t imagine running her fingers through it. The problem is that he had taken her hand on the walk here and she had had to fight every single urge to pull away. His hands are too big, too clumsy – not long and slender, soft as they wound through her hair and curled around her hips. She looks at Max, and there is no desire, not even a faint stirring of affection and with someone else, a glance had ignited her whole being into flames.

The problem is that he isn’t Matt.

His name is close -- Max. She has almost called him Matt twice already, despite how different the two men are.

He’s a children’s doctor and apparently brilliant with kids. He wants to meet her daughter, when the mention of a child usually sends most men running. He’s sweet and polite, he’s normal -- so deliciously unaware of her celebrity in another country. He’s fantastic, and all she can think about is a man thousands of miles and an ocean away, probably helping his fiancé pick out flower arrangements.

It isn’t fair to Max, comparing him to someone he isn’t even aware he’s competing against. But it just feels wrong. Everything feels wrong. She wonders idly if Matt has set the bar so high that no other man will ever be able to reach it. She wonders if anyone else will ever be able to make her so happy.

When her cell phone rings halfway through dessert, Alex nearly knocks over her second coffee in her haste to answer it. It’s Salome’s babysitter, asking if it’s all right if Salome watches The Thing.

Alex excuses herself from the table and answers the question inside the café. No, Salome has nightmares and Alex doesn’t feel like having her daughter in her bed for the next week. She tells the babysitter to put in Princess Bride instead and hangs up.

Back at her table, she gathers her purse and tells Max that she has to leave because Salome isn’t feeling well. She feels terrible for lying and bailing on her date, but continuing at this point would be futile anyway. Max is a great guy, but she just isn’t ready for this.

Maybe one day, she will be.

Or maybe, a soft voice in her head suggests, no one else will ever be enough.

XxX

Matt lets out a long-suffering sigh, fingers toying with the label of his beer as he vaguely listens to Karen. She sits across from him and next to Arthur, who looks at least mildly interested in what she has to say. Daisy has wandered off to the loo, which is a welcome relief from her presence. A moment away from a woman he doesn’t love is like a moment in which he’s allowed to breathe.

Though, it always feels like he can’t breathe.

He can never breathe, not anymore.

Not without her.

But he made the choice to propose to the woman who is currently with him; the woman who loves him and is willing to admit it. Which brings him full-circle in the silent pity fest, because the Kingston is too scared to love him and he is too pathetic to continue to try to break her defenses. So he’s settling.

He is forever going to settle.

“Matt, are you listening to me?” Karen huffs, hands waving frantically in his face. He blinks, sitting up and leaning on the table.

“I am now,” he says with a forced grin, wincing inside at the almost knowing look Arthur sends his way. Sometimes, that man has too much insight. Once, he even questioned if Arthur knew about what was going on, but quickly came to the decision that of course he didn’t. No one did.

“Fat lot of good that does me,” Karen grumbles, crossing her arms. “We’re out for a fun night on the town, you, me, Arthur and Daisy and you sit here like you’d rather be sleeping.”

“Haven’t been getting much of that, actually,” Matt points out with a shrug. He avoids looking at Arthur because the feel of that man’s eyes on Matt’s face is beginning to burn. “Anyway, continue whatever it was you were saying.”

“Well, it’s pointless now, isn’t it? You weren’t even listening!”

“Karen,” Arthur chides, nudging her with his elbow. “He’s tired. That’s all. Start again.”

Karen lets out a sigh, dropping her face into her upraised palm as she begins in a monotone voice, “I was saying that I’ve been missing a lot of people lately. Like Patrick, and my mum. I sometimes wish my filming schedule was more like Alex’s. Even with a daughter, she finds the time to date, and I can’t even visit my family or boyfriend.”

“Wait,” Matt states abruptly, back straightening as he stares at Karen, hoping he’d heard her

wrong. “She’s dating? Who?”

“I don’t know, really. She mentioned it last time we talked,” Karen shrugs, eying him warily. “Why?”

He can’t really explain why he’s interested to her, he knows, but he’s far too invested in who Alex went out with, when, and where to really care if he comes off too forward.

“When was it?” He asks this time, eyes darting in the direction of the toilets to ensure Daisy hasn’t chosen this moment to come back.

“Er, last week? I think.”

“What’d she say about it?” He rushes on, leaning forward, arms on the table. Karen laughs and he doesn’t understand why until she’s talking again.

“Stop being such a big brother,” Karen chastises, slapping at his hand playfully. “It’s unbecoming when she’s clearly old enough to take care of herself.”

Ignoring her scolding, he forges on through clenched teeth, “Who was it?”

“Jeez! I don’t know! Besides, it doesn’t even matter. She said it didn’t go over well anyway,” Karen says with a wave of her hand, clearly exasperated.

“Why, what happe--”

“I think we need more beer, eh?” Arthur states, gesturing to the bar with a hand as he stares pointedly at Matt. “Why don’t you go get us some, mate?”

Matt stares back at Arthur for a long moment, but the stare-off is interrupted when Daisy drops her handbag onto the table with a sigh.

“Those toilets are very disgusting,” she grumbles, pushing her bangs from her face. She moves to

sit back down next to Matt, but he holds a hand out to her. She sends him a questioning gaze, but he scoots out of the booth and kisses her cheek.

“We need more liquor,” he mumbles before heading off towards the bar. Once he reaches it, he scrubs a hand over his face, motioning to the bartender with a flick of his wrist. He’d nearly given himself away back there and in the moment, he hadn’t cared. If Daisy had shown up sooner, she would have questioned his questions and he really did not want to deal with that.

“Thank you, Arthur,” he mumbles, tangling his fingers in his hair.

“You’re welcome,” Arthur says from next to him. Matt nearly jumps out of his skin, glaring at the other man.

“That was not cool, mate,” Matt accuses, pointing a finger into Arthur’s chest harshly. He merely shrugs, turning to face forward.

“And you asking those questions was? You were making it far too obvious, and I personally don’t want to be in the middle of that heated conversation between you and your fiancée.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Matt says quickly, hoping he’d heard Arthur wrong. He’s disappointed when Arthur turns back to face him, brow arched.

“Halloween, last year. Who do you think stopped Karen from opening all her closet doors to find the source of that woman screaming?” He asks bluntly, face blank.

Matt doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t even know if he can speak. Arthur Darvill knows about his affair with Alex Kingston. He knows, and hasn’t told anyone. Mouth agape, Matt takes in the honesty on his good friend’s face and for a moment, for a brief moment, he wants to spill everything. He wants to confess all his feelings, describe every glorious, heated, heartbreaking moment he’d shared with the woman he loves, because he finally can. But that moment is quickly gone and Matt knows he can’t talk about it. He doesn’t want to bring in any unnecessary people into this -- he and Alex had already screwed things up for Salome. Nothing else is going to happen.

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” he finally says, voice quiet. “She wants nothing to do with me.”

Arthur scoffs, turning his back against the bar. He stares at Matt with such intensity that Matt has

Arthur scoffs, turning his back against the bar. He stares at Matt with such intensity that Matt has to turn away, finally noticing the fresh beer in front of him.

He grabs a bottle and takes a sip as Arthur begins to walk away, saying over his shoulder, “Yeah, that’s why she was so bloody heartbroken when I told her about your engagement.”

Matt freezes mid-sip, turning to watch the retreating back of his friend. He knew she had been in pain. It’s not like she could easily hide her feelings from him, ever, but having another person confirm his suspicions is like a slap in the face.

So bloody heartbroken.

“Oh, Alex,” he whispers brokenly, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth to refrain from screaming out his frustration. “Why are you doing this to us?”

‘Why’d you give in so easily?’ His mind whispers back. He shuts his eyes, glancing back at the table, where his friends and fiancée sit. ‘Why’d you propose?’

He returns to the table, beers in hand, with that question fresh in his mind.

Sitting at that table with people who clearly care about him, that he questions every ever-loving decision he’s ever made.

And hates every single one of them.

Chapter End Notes

For this chapter, Brinney wrote from Matt's point of view and I wrote from Alex's. The chapter title comes from Katy Perry's Thinking of You. Thank you all so much for your comments and kudos! -hugs-

With hope you burn up Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes

It just so happens that Alex is back London – through no choice of her own – in time for Matt’s wedding. Filming a cliffhanger scene at the end of an episode in Doctor Who, she and Salome are in town for the week-long hype leading up to the big day and Alex does absolutely everything she can to avoid it. She doesn’t watch the telly, she doesn’t listen to the radio and when she has to go into the supermarket she looks anywhere but at the magazines and newspapers. The timing is horrible and painful, but there’s nothing for it but to stay away from media coverage and try to get out of England as soon as she can. For most of the week, she manages relatively well but she should have known it wouldn’t last.

The doorbell rings around 8:30 on the night before Matt’s wedding while Alex is in the middle of playing Pretty Pretty Princess with Salome. She answers the door in her nightgown, a gaudy plastic ring on her right index finger and a lopsided crown atop her head.

Karen stands on her front stoop, illuminated by the light of her phone as she types out a quick text. She glances up at Alex and gives a startled laugh. “Oh my god. You look very…tipsy.”

Alex snorts and stands aside, letting her in. “I’m playing a board game with Salome. What are you doing here, and looking so dressed up?”

Karen’s looking around her foyer in an electric blue mini dress and sky-high heels, her ginger hair voluminous and framing her pretty face. She curtsies at Alex’s compliment, smiling a little. “I’m heading out for Daisy’s hen night. Just wanted to come by and see you first.”

“Ah,” Alex says, turning away and pulling the crown from her tangled curls. She probably doesn’t sound very enthusiastic, but it’s the night before the man she loves marries someone else. Enthusiasm has left the building.

Alex leads Karen through to the living room, where Salome sits in her pajamas, wearing bright plastic earrings, a ring on almost every finger, and all the necklaces wrapped around her neck.

“Nice,” Karen laughs, giving her the thumbs up. “You’re winning, I see.”

Salome looks smug, pushing tousled brown curls from her eyes. “Mom isn’t very good at this

game.”

“Oh, thank you,” Alex says, tossing the crown at her daughter, who giggles and dodges out of the way.

While Salome goes back to fiddling with her jewelry, sorting through the bracelets, Alex ushers Karen to an armchair. “What are you visiting me for?” She asks, sitting on the sofa across from her. “Shouldn’t you be having way too many tequila shots right now?”

Karen nods, rolling her eyes. “I’m on my way, honestly. I just wanted to -- ” She stops when her phone buzzes in her hand, glancing down. “Hang on, text from Arthur. He’s at Matt’s stag.”

Glancing away before Karen notices her visible flinch, Alex purses her lips to keep them from trembling and watches Salome admiring the rings on her fingers.

Karen chuckles at whatever Arthur has said and types back a quick response. “Sorry,” she says. “Matt was dared to convince a girl to give him her knickers. Apparently, every single girl in the pub fell all over herself to hand hers over.”

Karen starts to laugh all over again at the imagery and Alex laughs with her because if she doesn’t, she’s either going to throw something or burst into tears right in front of her daughter and her co-worker. Heartbroken, gut wrenching sobs the likes of which the Shakespearean stage has never seen.

“I can only imagine what Daisy’s going to have to do,” Karen says, still giggling. “Are you sure you don’t want to come?”

Alex almost chokes, but she covers it with a polite cough and shakes her head, nodding in Salome’s direction. “I don’t think a hen night is the most appropriate place for a ten year old little girl.” The thought of attending Daisy’s hen night is horrifying. Aside from Alex’s own misery, Daisy would only send her glares all evening anyway – the girl has never really liked Alex. Alex can’t blame her.

“Well, your craziness will be sorely missed,” Karen says, ignoring her phone when it buzzes again. “Everything is more boring when you aren’t there.”

Alex wants to hug her, but she stays where she is, smiling at her friend instead. A heartfelt hug

Alex wants to hug her, but she stays where she is, smiling at her friend instead. A heartfelt hug probably wouldn’t help her fragile emotional state right now. “I’m sure you’ll get along just fine without me.”

“Well, I’ll save you a seat at the church tomorrow, at least,” Karen says and Alex glances away, swallowing.

“I’m not going to the wedding,” she says quietly, avoiding Karen’s gaze.

“What?” Karen asks, bemused. “Why on earth not?”

Before Alex can offer some kind of paper-thin excuse through the haze of tears in her eyes, Salome scrambles over to Karen’s side, holding up a bright blue beaded bracelet from the board game. She takes Karen’s hand and slides the bracelet onto her wrist, smiling shyly. “It matches your dress,” she says.

Karen looks from the bracelet to Salome, and then back again before she breaks into a huge smile, ruffling Salome’s hair. “Oh my gosh, you’re right! It does match.” She touches the beads lightly, like the bracelet is made of gold rather than plastic. “Thank you. I promise to bring it back in perfect condition.”

Salome beams up at her and Karen watches with fond affection written all over her face as the girl scoots across the floor, back to the board game. Alex smiles, grateful for the time to pull herself together without Karen’s eyes on her. Salome could charm a hobo out of his last holey boot, so it isn’t any wonder that everyone on set adores her. They’ve never seen her in one of her pre-teen moods.

Still fiddling with her newly acquired bracelet, Karen turns razor sharp focus back on Alex. “Why aren’t you going to the wedding? You’ll be in town tomorrow, won’t you?”

Alex had never actually received an invitation to the wedding, which she suspects was Matt’s doing. She’s never been more grateful to him – she doesn’t know how she would have kept from falling apart if she’d gotten a lace-trimmed invitation to his wedding in the mail. Telling Karen she wasn’t invited isn’t actually an option, and neither is telling her that watching Matt marry Daisy might actually kill her. She would have no business being there anyway – not after what she and Matt have done behind Daisy’s back. Not when she’s so in love with the groom that she doesn’t trust herself not to stand up when the priests asks for objections, instead of sitting quietly and watching him kiss the bride – watching him go on to have the life she knows he would be happier with in the long run.

So instead, Alex begins to explain about a prior engagement that requires her absence, and how she simply can’t make it to the wedding. In all honestly, she doesn’t even plan on leaving the house. She doesn’t want to do anything tomorrow but avoid news coverage of the wedding, not bother with even getting dressed, and try not to cry until Salome is in bed. It’s going to be a long, hellish day.

She can’t wait until it’s over – when she doesn’t have to think about it anymore. Matt will be a married man, and Alex will be forced to move on with her life and let go of him. Let go of them. It’s for the best and she knows it, but that doesn’t make living with her choice any easier. Being right doesn’t mean she stops loving him, and it doesn’t make her heart hurt any less.

Karen stops her halfway through her thrown-together explanation, holding up a slim hand and shaking her head. “Alex…are you and Matt okay? I mean, are you having some sort of tiff?”

Alex stares at her, unmoving.

“Because you don’t talk like you used to. I hardly ever see you two together on set anymore unless you’re doing a scene together. And now you’re not going to his wedding?”

Karen glances down at Salome, who is flicking the spinner on the board game and obviously listening very closely. Salome, bless her, hasn’t mentioned Matt since Alex told her that mummy and Matty couldn’t be friends anymore and the sound of his name in their home has to have startled her. There was a time when Salome talked of nothing else but Matty and what silly antics they’d gotten up to that do, but now she understands that Matt is a relic of their past – a beloved memory never spoken of for fear of ruining the sanctity of it. Her child’s insightfulness is always a source of surprise to Alex.

Karen is still looking at her, biting her lip. “Is everything okay between you two?”

“What are you talking about?” Alex asks, waving her away with a laugh. “Of course we’re okay.”

Karen eyes her curiously – the soft gaze of a friend who just wants to help. “Are you sure? Because you…you just seem different lately. Sad.”

For one ridiculous moment, Alex wants to tell her everything. It would be nice to have someone to talk to, someone to tell her story to so that she knows even years down the road that it was real. Matt loving her isn’t just an idea conjured in her own mind. It happened, and she’s a better person for it. But she isn’t going to unburden herself on the girl in front of her, all dressed up for a party

and wearing Salome’s plastic bracelet. She’s beautiful and young and Alex’s problems are not hers.

“I’m fine,” she says, smiling as genuinely as she can manage. “Just tired, I promise. I’m very happy for Matt and I’ll see him and Daisy after they’re home from their honeymoon.”

Lies. All of it. She isn’t fine, she isn’t happy, and she plans on avoiding the newlyweds like they have the plague.

“Oh, Matt can’t go on honeymoon yet,” Karen points out. “Not till filming is over. He and Daisy are just going to Paris for two days instead. So you’ll still see him at work on Monday.”

Oh god, so soon?

Karen looks so pleased with this that Alex is forced to offer a weak smile. “Then I’ll see him Monday.”

Alex feels dread pool in her stomach. How can she possibly face him on Monday morning, after his romantic mini-honeymoon in Paris with his new wife? She can’t – not yet. She thought she had more time. She isn’t strong enough for this.

Karen returns Alex’s smile, though hers seems entirely genuine. “I’m glad everything’s all right, then.”

“Everything’s perfect,” Alex replies.

Salome looks up then, with her neck ringed with plastic beads and princess crown falling into her eyes, and Alex feels like her daughter can see right through her.

--

Sitting around a circular table in a high-priced club, Matt tries to keep his drinking to a minimum. He is surrounded by family and friends that he’s known for years, for months and even for hours. So many people congratulating him and raising their shot glasses. He is slowly losing the battle of staying as lightly drunk as possible, because with each congratulation (or ‘Too bad, mate. Being

tied down sucks’), the urge to take another shot of whiskey is too strong to pass up.

So when he’s dared to ask one of the girls in the club for their underwear, he doesn’t think twice. He merely stands and stumbles over to the closest woman (he should have gone to one who was alone) and asks her if he could possibly have her knickers. She seems shocked at first, then disgusted, but the moment she recognizes who he is, she trips backwards into the wall she’s standing next to as she attempts to lift her ridiculously high-heeled feet to remove her knickers. Her friends overhear the request and they begin following her example.

Soon, he’s got an array of thongs, bikini style knickers and even a pair of boxers hanging limply in his hands, across his shoulders and in the crook of his arms. When he returns to the table where his mates are sitting, they laugh loudly, easily covering the booming music with their voices. He drops his collection on the table and says, slightly slurred, “Take your pick, gen’lemen.”

The men war over which panties they wish to take (even the boxers get taken) and it’s a disturbing sight. Men will be men, he supposes, as he plops down in his seat and takes a swig from his warm beer.

“Nervous?” Arthur asks from beside him, leaning back in his chair. Matt notices how the man doesn’t take part in the war for knickers and he’s slightly relaxed by it. At least someone has some dignity.

He swallows around the lump in his throat (he can’t tell if it’s there because he’s slowly becoming sick from the alcohol or because he really, truly is nervous) and toys with the multiple shot glasses that are lined up in front of him.

“More than ev’r,” he murmurs, glancing at the man who has been his best mate lately. Arthur nods, sipping his beer and eyeing the men that surround them.

“It’ll be all right, mate,” Arthur reassures, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

Matt doesn’t respond for a while, stomach churning and heart clenching. It won’t be all right. It will never be all right. One day, Daisy will realize that he doesn’t really love her. One day, she’ll see through his act and shatter from it, or kill him.

Or both.

All because he loves Alex enough to follow her stupid advice. Enough to ruin not only his own happiness, but someone else’s too. Someone he’s hurt in so many different ways and she doesn’t even know that she’s been betrayed.

“I love her,” Matt speaks softly, and Arthur nods again.

“I know, mate.”

“No, not--”

“I know, Matt,” Arthur interrupts, shooting a warning look at Matt that clearly said, ‘Say anymore and someone else will hear, idiot.’

Of course he knows. He’s one of the most intuitive people Matt has ever met, and it’s sometimes not a good thing. But in this drunken moment, it’s a gift. Someone else knows what he’s doing, understands his situation, and is still there for him.

“Wha’ am I gunna do?” He asks, slumping in his chair. Arthur shrugs, looking down at his phone as a text comes in.

He answers as his fingers move deftly across the keyboard on his phone, voice calm, “The right thing, Matt. The right thing in your mind.”

That’s the most rubbish advice Matt has ever heard. The right thing in his mind? Doesn’t Arthur understand that, at the moment, he doesn’t even have a mind? The right thing could be anything. From leaving Daisy, to marrying Daisy. To going back to Alex (yeah, right), to running away from everything.

He doesn’t know what the right thing is.

Frustrated, he tells Robert to order another round of shots, requests Seth to ask the DJ to change the song to something with a better beat and finishes off his neglected beer. When the shots come to the table, Matt raises his in toast.

“To throwin’ your life away,” he shouts, bringing the burning liquid to his mouth and gulping it

down. The men around him (aside from Arthur, who stares at him blankly) shout their agreement and follow his example, each having a different reaction to the liquor.

If Matt is going to spend his last night as an unmarried man wallowing about his lost love, he’s going to do it properly – with lots of liquor and hopefully a blackout. If he’s lucky, he’ll have a pounding headache in the morning and will be able to play his sour mood off as just being hungover.

Because God knows he’s going to have one hell of a day tomorrow, marrying Daisy Lowe and not Alex Kingston.

Never Alex Kingston.

He takes another shot.

Chapter End Notes

Thanks so much for your comments, guys! For this chapter, Brinney wrote from Matt's point of view and I wrote from Alex's. Chapter title comes from Judy Garland's The Man That Got Away.

They said speak now Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes

She’s in line at the local Tesco when she sees the wedding coverage she has been avoiding all week on the television behind the counter. She’s dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, hair pulled back and stuffed into a baseball cap, hoping that if she keeps her head down, it will be enough to keep anyone from recognizing her. She wouldn’t even be out in public at all today if it weren’t for Salome, who had waited until the last day before her assignment was due to tell Alex that she needed to make a log cabin for history class out of popsicle sticks and send pictures to her teacher as proof that she completed the assignment.

For her, today is a day of mourning.

All Alex wants to do is curl up under the blankets on her bed and sob. But Salome isn’t with her father this week, and she doesn’t have time to fall apart. So instead, she stands in line at Tesco and watches behind dark sunglasses, tears in her eyes, as a reporter announces from outside a church – just blocks away – that Matt Smith of Doctor Who fame is about to exchange wedding vows with the beautiful Daisy Lowe.

Apparently, the bride had been stunning as she had been escorted into the church – luminescent and happy as bridesmaids trailed after her, lifting her train from the ground. As footage of Daisy ducking into the church flashes across the screen, Alex feels nothing but anger and resentment. Not toward Daisy, but herself. All of this is her fault.

No one has seen Matt come in yet – apparently the man can be late for even his own wedding. Alex takes a deep breath and looks away from the screen, closing her eyes against the tears blurring her vision. She only hopes this unreasonably long line moves along before Matt arrives; she doesn’t think she can handle seeing his beautiful, ridiculous face without having some sort of emotional breakdown in the middle of the store.

God, how embarrassing.

She can imagine the evening news now.

‘Alex Kingston cried hysterically over five boxes of popsicles in local Tesco today. Details at eleven.’

She has no one to blame but herself. He had wanted her – loved her, even. He’d wanted to be with her, to hold her and kiss her, to be the one to brave the London streets for Salome’s popsicle sticks and whatever other silly school assignments she came home with. He had wanted everything. And she’d pushed him away – afraid of what other people might say, afraid of her own feelings, afraid of being hurt again. Everything about Matt and his love had scared the life out of her and she’d run away, hiding like a scared little girl because she wasn’t prepared to handle something so wonderful.

Since the day she found out about his engagement, Alex has been doing her best to ignore Matt’s impending nuptials, savagely pushing thoughts of it to the back her mind, promising to think about it later. It hurt too much to truly think about how close she was to losing him forever, so she didn’t. But now, in the middle of Tesco and faced with wedding coverage, Alex can’t run away from it anymore. She’s going to lose him – she has lost him. He hasn’t ever truly been hers, but now even that little piece of him she could claim for her own will be lost too today. He’s going to marry Daisy, and he’s going to have a fantastic career and be so happy and maybe one day, he’ll have children who look just like him. He’s going to be brilliant, and someday, what he had with her will be nothing but a faded memory of a past mistake.

Alex feels tears well in her eyes again and she casts her blurred gaze toward the television once more. She doesn’t want to be his mistake, that stupid affair he had before he married his wife. It’s her own fault, though, isn’t it? She relegated herself to the part of ‘past transgression’ and Matt had done as she asked and moved on.

Oh god.

What has she done?

Why does she always fuck up everything in her life? A small voice in her head screams at her in sheer panic: 'Fix it! Hurry! Don't let him marry that girl! Fix it!' Part of her wants to listen to that voice – that selfish part of herself that wants to take over. She wants to drop the boxes in her hands and run out of Tesco, run as fast as her legs can carry her, not stopping until she reaches that church. She wants to burst through the doors and ask him not to do it – don’t marry her, my Matt.

Don’t ever love anybody else but me.

He would, if she asked. That’s what makes everything hurt so much more. Matt loves her, she knows he does and if he thought she wouldn’t reject him, there wouldn’t be a power on this earth that could stop him from telling her every second of every day – in his own, uniquely Matt way. Somehow, the thought of that much love directed at her doesn’t scare her the way it used to. The only truly frightening thought is losing that love – and she’s going to. Soon.

But she made her choice and now she’ll live with it. She won’t bugger up Matt’s life the way she so expertly does her own. It isn't his fault she isn't brave enough for both of them. She's only sorry she never told him how amazing he had been. She wishes she could thank him for making her happy for those few short months, for making her feel like she was finally enough for somebody.

On the television, she glimpses the back of Matt’s head as he ducks into the church amid reporters and photographers, and she bites the inside of her cheek. Matt would never have been happy with her anyway. Maybe at first, but not forever. And Alex would never have been satisfied with anything other than spending the rest of her life with that wonderful idiot. She tells herself quite firmly that this really is for the best, and that small, panicked voice in her head quiets in miserable defeat.

Thankfully, the line begins to move once more and Alex doesn’t have to look at the television anymore. She makes it back home just as a light rain begins to fall, and as she steps through the door and toes out of her boots, she thinks of that church in the middle of London proper, filled to the brim with people and her Matt standing at the altar, waiting for some other woman to walk down the aisle.

Alex shuts her eyes and sighs, clutching the bag of popsicles in a tightened fist. From the kitchen, she hears Salome chatting with Marie over the clatter of pans and she gathers herself quickly. She can cry later, when her daughter is safely tucked away in bed, when the log cabin is drying on the counter and Matt is on his way to Paris.

--

Matt frowns as he wakes up slightly disoriented on Arthur’s couch. He honestly doesn’t remember how he got here. The last thing he does remember is the six shots he did in a row.

Great idea.

Groaning, he sits up and rubs his temples. The headache he wished for definitely made its appearance, throbbing deep within the recesses of his mind. ‘Bloody well worth it,’ he thinks as he remembers what’s on the agenda for the day.

His wedding.

He’s marrying Daisy Lowe today, under orders of the woman he loves (not directly, but this is what she wanted him to do) and the thought makes his stomach churn. Or maybe it’s the hangover. Pushing to his feet, he sways slightly, trying to remember where Arthur’s bathroom is. He bites back the bile in his throat long enough to stoop in front of the toilet once he’s there, emptying the contents of his stomach into the shining porcelain.

It feels good to get it out but the uneasiness from the impending wedding doesn’t dissipate. He doesn’t think it ever will.

After a few more dry heaves, Matt sinks into a sitting position against the wall, reaching forward to flush the toilet.

“Figured you’d be in here,” Arthur says from the doorway, smiling slightly. He places a couple pills and a glass of water on the counter, stepping back out of the room with arms crossed over his chest. “Big day. I’ve got your tux laid out for you already, and your toiletries are under the sink.”

Matt coughs, wincing at the taste of vomit. He mouths a ‘thank you’ to Arthur, who takes that as his leave. Standing and using the wall as support, Matt rinses his mouth out using the tap, before taking the pills. The cool water feels good on his sore throat and he closes his eyes, relishing in it. When he’s finished the water, he takes a look at himself in the mirror and instantly regrets it.

He looks like hell. Dark bags mar his eyes and stubble clouds his chin. The thought of cleaning himself up makes him want to lie back down on the couch and sleep the rest of his life away. Especially when he doesn’t even want to get married.

Not today. Not to Daisy.

Oh, God, he really doesn’t. He doesn’t want brown hair and brown eyes. He doesn’t want to wake up wrapped around a too-thin body. He doesn’t want to spend his life pining over another woman and wondering if his wife knows he doesn’t love her.

He doesn’t want to live a lie.

“Three hours ‘til show time, Matt,” Arthur calls from the living room.

Three hours until he makes the biggest mistake of his life.

He spends the next four going through the motions. Shaving his face, brushing his teeth. He can’t remember what he’s had for breakfast the moment he’s finished it. He showers (five minutes, probably less) and Arthur helps him into his tux. He feels like a rag doll, with Arthur tugging on his reluctant limbs in an attempt to get the vest up his arms.

The flower is pinned to his jacket pocket when they’ve finished. The bowtie (he wanted at least that) is adjusted once, twice. He goes to the bathroom to fix his hair, brush his teeth again, and then Arthur is rushing him to the car.

He’s an hour late.

An hour late for the wedding he shouldn’t be having. That he doesn’t want to be apart of. An hour late (he’s always late for something, always) for the moment he signs his life away to a deservingof-so-much-better woman he doesn’t love.

‘What the hell are you doing? This isn’t the right thing. Don’t be stupid, Matt. Listen to me for once.’

They pull up to the church (it’s so big. Why is it so big?) and the press fly around the limo.

‘To them, this is your day of happiness. For you, it’s your day of shame. Stop.’

He adjusts his coat, straightens his posture. The door opens and he ducks out of the car, hand in front of his face and eyes downcast (’Smile for the cameras, Matt‘). He follows Arthur’s footsteps to the door.

His head spins from the sight of the high ceiling and the decorations set up. Everything is so intricate, so specific. He doesn’t want to be here.

He can hear Daisy yelling at someone from down a hallway, and he stands there, at a loss. This is all way too much.

Arthur turns around when he notices Matt isn’t following him anymore and backtracks. He says something Matt completely misses and shoves him toward the pews – toward the altar. Daisy’s voice is fading and Matt is losing his mind.

All he wants is to bury his hands in curls and kiss experienced lips. He wants to love Alex and know she loves him too.

He can’t remember his vows.

He can only remember green eyes and a curvy waist.

Arthur taps his shoulder, trying to get his attention. Matt ignores him in favor of more painful memories. The way her voice sounds when she’s waking up. The way her heartbeat hastens when his lips press against hers. The way she clings to him like he’s her lifeline. How could he forget all of this? How could he let himself lose all his memories of her? They’re all he has left.

Oh, but he wants more.

The music plays.

His palms sweat.

He’s getting married.

Chapter End Notes

Surprise chapter! Yaay! Thanks for the comments! Brinney wrote from Matt's point of view and I wrote from Alex's. Chapter title from Taylor Swift's Speak Now.

Straight in a straight line Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes

By the time Alex and Salome, with a lot of agitated supervising from Marie, have finished half of the log cabin, the light rain has turned into a downpour – raindrops pattering loudly against the roof and battering the windows. In the distance, thunder rumbles and Salome jumps before grinning at her own skittishness, socked feet slipping against the tile floor.

The doorbell buzzes loudly several times in a row – like a frantic knocking with a melody – and since Marie’s hands are covered in Elmer’s glue, Alex hurries to answer it. She’s vaguely aware of Salome running up behind her before she swings the door open and suddenly, she can’t breathe. She can’t even hear the battering rain over the pounding of her own heart.

He shouldn’t be here.

But he is.

Standing on her front stoop with his hair dripping into his face and his tuxedo soaked through, Matt stares at her like he never wants to look away again. Alex isn’t sure she wants him to.

Salome nudges her from behind, and she finally manages to sputter out, “W-what are you doing here?”

“I couldn’t do it,” he says, watching her apprehensively.

“Do what?” She breathes, already knowing the answer.

Matt takes a step closer to her, dripping rainwater everywhere. He reaches out a hand, cold and wet, and lays it against her cheek. She closes her eyes as his thumb brushes her cheekbone tenderly. “Marry someone I didn’t love, just because someone else broke my heart.”

Eyes flying open, Alex stares at him, sudden tears making it hard to see. “I didn’t want to,” she says brokenly.

How? How can he be here when she thought she'd lost him forever? What right does she have to such a wonderful second chance?

Matt turns soft eyes on Salome, smiling a little. “Could you give your mummy and I a minute, poppet? Just a quick one.”

Salome nods, biting her lip and smiling shyly. She scurries off back toward the kitchen, probably to tell Marie that Matt Smith is leaking all over her newly cleaned foyer. Alex closes her eyes and leans into the doorframe, tears streaming down her face.

Leaning into her, Matt speaks gruffly, like he can barely keep his own emotions in check. “I’m done with this, Alex. Sod this idea you’ve gotten in your bloody head that I need anything else in my life but you and Salome. I just need you – everything else can go hang.” He sighs raggedly. “I love you and I don’t give a damn what other people think, what other men in your life were like. I’m not them, and I won’t have you pushing me away and making us both miserable because of their mistakes.”

Suddenly, she feels his lips against her tear-streaked cheek as he presses a light kiss there. “I don’t want to be afraid anymore,” she whispers, reaching out blindly to grip his jacket in her fist.

Matt puts his hands on her waist, pulling her into him, and she doesn’t even care that he’s soaking her too. He reaches a hand into her hair and she sighs at his touch. She has missed him so desperately – for the last six months they’ve been apart, his hands on her has been a near constant memory in the back of her mind. “I’m not going anywhere,” he says. “Not unless you ask me to. And even then I’ll put up a hell of a fight.”

Alex laughs quietly, finally opening her eyes to see him smiling down at her. She reaches up a hand to touch his wet hair and frowns. “Did you run all the way here from the church?”

He nods, smirking a little as he presses his forehead to hers. “Oh, the things a man will do for love of Alex Kingston,” he says lowly, and she laughs again, sliding her hands up his chest and lacing her fingers together behind his neck. “Swim the deepest ocean, climb the highest mountain, sprint across the greater London area in the pouring rain --”

“I love you too, you git, now if you don’t shut up and kiss me -- ” Alex doesn’t get to finish her sentence before he does exactly that, slanting his lips against hers and pulling her closer. He tastes like peppermint and rainwater, and Alex smiles into his mouth.

He pulls away much too soon, just long enough to whisper, “You have no bloody idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that. Most sodding difficult woman I’ve ever - ” This time, he interrupts himself, as if realizing he’s wasting precious time not kissing her. His fingers tighten on her hips and he presses her into the doorframe, opening his mouth against hers. She reaches a hand up to caress his face and he moans like she’s inflicting on him the most delightful torture.

She grins, biting gently at his bottom lip as she remembers the first time she noticed what she did to him – sitting at the read-through and brushing his hand with hers by accident. He’d started out of his seat like she’d set him on fire.

They part briefly to breathe. Matt begins planting small kisses all over her face and grinning like his birthday has come early. “You smell like glue,” he says, sounding intrigued.

Laughing, Alex reaches up on tiptoes to press her lips to his again. She hasn’t kissed him in six months – that’s a lot of time to make up for. “Popsicle log cabin,” she whispers, watching his eyes light up.

“Can I -?” He looks hopeful.

She nods, and she can’t seem to stop grinning. He’s supposed to be getting married, but he’s standing here in front of her like he doesn’t want to be anywhere but in her kitchen with her and her daughter, getting covered in glue and making a mess. In that moment, she loves him so much she feels like she could burst with it. “You’ll have to change out of those wet clothes first.”

“Ooh,” Matt shivers, leaning over her and gathering her into his arms. “You’re trying to seduce me, aren’t you, Miss Kingston?”

“Shut up,” she says, tugging on the lapel of his tuxedo and pulling him inside.

When Alex has shoved him into a bathroom with some old clothes and a lengthy kiss, she wanders back into the kitchen with the brightest smile on her face. She can’t seem to make herself stop.

She doesn’t want to.

He’s here. Not standing at the altar somewhere else. He’s here.

Salome looks up from the messy project, flailing a bit in her seat and nearly knocking Marie backwards. The older woman pays her no mind, far too patient and used to Salome to be bothered.

“Where’s Matty?” Salome asks, looking so distraught that Alex wants to go to her and hug her. “Did he leave again?”

Alex shakes her head, still smiling as she envelopes her daughter in a tight hug and presses a loud kiss to the top of her head. “He’s changing into some dry clothes. And then he’s going to help us build this bloody cabin of yours.”

Salome bounces in her seat, beaming up at Alex. “He’s not going away again like before, is he?”

Alex doesn’t want to get into a long conversation with her daughter now, especially when she really doesn’t know what’s going on. She has so many questions and she and Matt have much to discuss. But for now, she just wants to enjoy the fact that he’s in her home, kissing her again and looking at her like she’s everything. The other stuff will work itself out.

“We’ll see,” is all she says.

Salome frowns at her, looking anxious. On the verge of telling her not to fret, Alex stops just before the words come out because Matt is standing in the doorway to the kitchen in a t-shirt and jersey shorts, his feet bare and his hair still damp. She smiles at him, positive she’s beaming from ear to ear like a lovesick schoolgirl but unable to stop herself. He smiles back at her just as widely and before she knows it, he’s crossing the room and standing over her, looking down into her eyes. His fingers brush against hers and she wants nothing more than to kiss him. She wants to wrap herself around him and never let go ever again.

But she can’t.

As far as Salome is concerned, Matt is a friend and nothing more. Nothing can happen in front of her until she and Alex have had a little talk.

Matt is looking at her with such intensity that it sends shivers down her spine – he looks as though he’s studying her, drinking her in like she might disappear before his very eyes. Pulling her fingers from his before she forgets herself, Alex blinks, turning away from him and clearing her throat.

Talking and other things are going to have to wait until Salome has gone to bed.

It’s going to be a long night.

“Right,” Matt says, clapping his hands together and turning to smile at Salome. “What do you need me to do, poppet?”

Salome’s smile at his pet name is breathtaking, and Alex can’t help but be reminded once again that Salome has missed her friend, just like Alex has missed her lover. Flicking her gaze to the mess she’s making with Marie – who has studiously ignored the odd goings-on in the kitchen tonight – Salome sighs. “Everything, Matty. The sticks won’t stay glued.”

Matt laughs softly, ruffling her hair as he bends over the counter to inspect their work. “Well that’s because you’re doing it wrong, silly girl.” He takes the glue bottle from Marie, who gladly hands it over and wipes her fingers on her apron. “Here, let me show you.”

Alex stands at the counter and watches him with her daughter, smile never leaving her face as she counts down the minutes until Salome’s bedtime.

XxX

Once Salome is put to bed and Alex and Matt are behind the closed door of her bedroom, he takes full advantage of his opening and begins attacking her with kisses. She reacts in turn, arms wrapping around his waist, fingers digging into his hips, his back, his shoulders. His tongue slips within her warm mouth and he groans, so softly, because this is what he’s missed. But not just her kisses, or her body, but her.

Her fingers thread through his hair, but she’s pulling his face from hers.

“Matt, wait,” Alex protests, resting her forehead against his cheek. His chest tightens. He doesn’t want to wait. He’s been bloody well waiting long enough.

“Why?” He whines, hands flexing against her back. She chuckles breathlessly against his cheek, and he’s missed it. Her sense of humor, her laugh. He’s missed everything, so damned much.

“Because there will be time for that, after we talk,” she murmurs as she kisses a line from his cheek down to his jaw. She’s making it hard to focus with those familiar lips and he thinks talking can wait. But it shouldn’t. He knows she has questions.

Sighing, he pulls away from her (but his hands don’t leave her. No, they continue to touch her in all those places he remembers she likes. The dip in her back, for example. If he runs his fingers just right across that, she’ll do this arch thing… yes, that) and looks at her fully. He’s had all evening to reacquaint himself with her beauty, her shining happiness. Something he hadn’t seen the entire time they were apart.

“Alright, let’s get this conversation over with so I can ravish you,” he says reluctantly, quirking his lips at the roll of the eyes he has missed.

He silently wonders if he should make a list of everything he’s missed – never mind that it‘d probably be the longest list ever written.

“You were supposed to get married tonight,” she says quietly, eyeing him with a speculative gaze. His fingers twitch at the mention of his failed almost-nuptials and he tries his best to keep the grimace from his face.

“Yes,” he confirms. The intensity of her gaze makes him squirm, but he doesn’t move any further away from her. He couldn’t even if he wanted to.

“But you didn’t.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Why not?” Alex asks and this time her voice is strained. He can see the battle behind her eyes; happiness and pain warring it out within her mind.

“Because of you,” he answers honestly. “I love you so much, Alex. I couldn’t go through with something that didn’t feel right.”

And it took him almost going through with a marriage to realize what the right thing Arthur had been talking about was. It was this, right here.

“I just…I wanted you to be happy,” she says. There are tears in her eyes and she’s worrying her bottom lip so thoroughly that he thinks she might make it bleed.

“Baby,” he soothes, rubbing his nose against hers softly. There’s a pain in his chest from seeing her like this. They can never regain those six months apart; they can never change painful words exchanged or decisions made, but they can move on and look forward together – while loving each other. “What you didn’t see is that I can’t be happy without you. Never without you.”

She lets out a broken sob and pulls his face towards hers. Talk obviously over – for now at least – he kisses her ardently. The way she clings to him makes his heart break and he never, ever wants to leave her again. He couldn’t, even if she tried to make him. She wouldn’t, though, would she? As their tongues slide together, he silently pleads with her to never push him away again. Her shaking hands run up underneath his shirt, the cool of her palms against his heated skin making him shiver.

They break apart for air and he’s tugging her shirt off. He needs to feel her skin against his. She follows his lead, lifting her arms into the air and allowing her tank top to be yanked from her body. She’s reaching for his shirt the moment hers is free of her hair, and he mimics her actions.

In the moment between kisses and tugging at clothes, Matt feels the need to voice his concern.

“Don’t leave me,” he gasps into her neck, where he’s placing kiss after kiss. His hands reach up her back, unclipping the bra (he tries not to notice, but it’s the same bra from that day in the hotel) and sliding it from her shoulders. “Don’t ever leave me again, please.”

She’s shaking her head, moaning softly when her breasts press into the hardness of his chest. He can feel her tears against his temple and he holds her tighter to him. They stand near the edge of the bed, actions slowed by the impact of what is transpiring. They are together again. Him and her.

“I couldn’t leave you again,” she manages to whisper in his ear, fingers coasting down his naked back. “I wouldn’t survive it.”

“I love you,” he says softly, voice breaking. “I love you so, so much.”

“I love you, too,” she says, and her breath is even now. She’s regained control of herself and she pulls away, looking at his face. Hearing her say those words for the second time causes his heart

to skip a beat and his blood to race.

With a giant lump in his throat, he kisses her already swollen lips, pulling at her hips. Between soft licks and nips, he asks, “Can I make love to you now?”

She nods, and that’s exactly what they do.

Together, they shed the remainder of their clothing, slowly and gently. She’s naked first, and he’s immediately attracted to her stomach. She chastises him when he drops to his knees before her, kissing her stomach with reverence. This can wait, she says. She needs him now.

He’s reluctant to oblige, but she’s pulling him up by the hair and removing his trousers as quickly as she can. When they both stand together, flesh up on flesh, she guides him back onto the bed, pulling him down above her.

Their movements are unhurried, hands caressing and dipping in at just the right places as promises of love are exchanged. Promises that are going to be carried out, because both realize now just how much they need the other in their lives.

When Matt dips his finger between her thighs, whispering the words “I love you” over and over again in her ear in time with his strokes against her clit, she comes violently. The force of it causes her body to go rigid beneath his and her face to contort in beautiful agony. He drops kisses on her closed eyelids, sweeping down to kiss her gasping mouth.

“Need you now,” she commands against his lips, reaching between them to take a hold of his erect cock. He groans, the feel of her hand on him again almost enough to send him over the edge right there. He lets her guide him inside and her warmth wrapped all around him is like a shock.

He rocks against her, sending him all the way inside, and the noise she makes is beautiful. She’s clutching at his shoulders as he begins a slow rhythm. He pulls back and slides in again, slowly, over and over.

“Never thought I’d have this again,” he whispers next to her ear, sucking on the spot just below it. Her curls tickle his nose (curls, curls) and she whimpers as his abdomen strikes her clit with each thrust. “Love you…”

“Ugnn, love you too,” she gasps, arching her hips. “Faster, please.”

“Ugnn, love you too,” she gasps, arching her hips. “Faster, please.”

He listens to her demand, thrusting faster, hurriedly. He entwines his fingers with hers, pinning her hand above her head as he leans in to kiss her. Her thighs wrap around his waist, heels digging into his arse. Their tongues mingle and moans are swallowed.

Her walls clench deliciously around him, tighter and tighter, before calming and reacting the same way. He uses his free hand to reach between them and work her clit again. Pulling his face from hers, he watches as she falls apart beneath him (it’s her, it’s Alex) and realizes he’s crying. A tear falls on her cheek, but she’s too far gone to realize and he’s too far gone to care.

She breaks around him with his name spilling from her lips and her hand tightening around his. His knuckles ache from the force of her grip, but he’s so close. His balls tighten, and she caresses his face mindlessly.

“Matt…Love you, never letting you go again,” she murmurs, eyes half closed. The words are enough to send him over the edge and he spills within her.

The next few minutes are spent in silence, no sound but that of their breathing returning to normal. Their hands are still wrapped around each other, gentle caresses of his thumb across the back of her hand the only thing keeping him awake right now.

“Stay? Just for a while?” Alex asks quietly, breaking the comfortable silence. She sounds frightened of his answer and he chuckles softly.

“Do you even have to ask?” He inquires, rolling off her body, only to pull her into his side when he’s on his back.

“I suppose not,” she laughs breathlessly. “I don’t want you to have to leave at all, though.”

“Me neither, love,” he sighs. But they both know he can’t be here in the morning. She has Salome to talk to and he has an ex-fiancée to face. “Sleep for a bit, will you? I’ll wake you up.”

“Mm, okay,” she agrees, scooting closer to him and sighing.

“I love you, Alex,” Matt says as he places a kiss to her forehead. He smiles when she mutters

something incoherent (he assumes it’s an ‘I love you too’), but his smile fades when he thinks about what he has to deal with in the morning.

He hadn’t given Daisy much of an explanation when he left the church. He hadn’t given anyone an explanation. He’d been standing next to the priest at the altar and suddenly he knew he couldn’t do it.

He’d made a quick dash for the bridal room, and when he opened the door, Daisy seemed to know immediately what was going on (not specifically, of course)…and her face. Oh, the look of utter heartbreak on her face had made his chest constrict.

“You’re off, then?” She’d asked, eyes already filling with tears. He’d nodded, biting his lip.

“I can’t, Daisy. I-I.. this isn’t right.”

“I’m going to pretend to understand what you’re saying. And give you five seconds to get out of my sight before I punch your face in.”

He hadn’t needed much else before he was sprinting from the church, away from the press and into the rain.

Into the arms of the woman he loves.

And who, wouldn’t you know it, loves him too.

Tomorrow is going to be a pain in the arse and he deserves whatever Daisy throws at him – metaphorically or literally, he thinks.

Right now, though?

He is going to take full advantage of the naked love of his life at least one more time before he heads home.

They deserve at least that much after everything they’ve gone through.

Chapter End Notes

Remember how you all thought we'd let Matt marry Daisy. I bet you feel pretty silly right now. LOL Happy Valentine's Day, darlings! I wrote from Alex's point of view and Britney wrote from Matt's. Chapter title from OneRepublic's All This Time.

The war is over and we are beginning Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes

Matt didn’t leave until the wee hours of the morning, slipping from her bed and dressing in the dark. He’d left her with one last kiss before slipping from the house and going home. It had been best that he leave before anyone discovered where he’d vanished. The press had gone wild when they’d realized Matt had walked out on his own wedding, and there had been pandemonium the likes of which London had never seen when they’d realized he’d stolen out of the church in the pouring rain and sneaked right past them. No one has seen him, almost like he’d disappeared into thin air, and no one had thought to check Alex’s unassuming townhouse. They’d hidden out through the night – first in the kitchen with a popsicle stick log cabin and then beneath the sheets in Alex’s bed, exchanging kisses and body heat.

Alex wakes up to an empty bed hours after Matt leaves, but she smiles into her pillow and for the first time in months, she feels optimistic about the beginning of a new day. It’s not another day to get through, another day in which she ignores her own feelings and tries to forget. It’s a day in which to love, and to laugh, and just be grateful that she’d opened her eyes to her bedroom ceiling. And it’s always been that sort of day all along; she’d just lost sight of that without him.

She’d lost sight of a lot of things.

Matt had held her through the night and it had taken a long time to convince herself that she wasn’t dreaming of his arm around her waist, or his breath tickling the back of her neck. She didn’t think she would ever get to feel him wrapped around her again and to know that she had been wrong, that there are so many more nights of being held by him ahead of her – it makes her beam up at the ceiling.

He loves her, and he’s not going anywhere.

Alex stretches languidly, snuggling further into her blankets and sighing. From down the hall, she hears the distinct sounds of Salome waking up to the world – the muffled thump of her stumbling out of bed, the creaking of her bedroom door, and the shuffle of bare feet stuffed into fluffy slippers as she makes her way to the loo.

Salome had been quiet yesterday, not questioning Matt’s sudden reappearance in their lives. She had been just as happy as Alex to have him back, being his ridiculous self in their kitchen. But now, in the light of the morning, Alex knows they’re going to have to talk. It’s time to be honest with her daughter.

Pulling herself out of bed, Alex reaches for her dressing gown and slips into it before padding to the kitchen. If honesty is on the menu this morning, then so are pancakes. The American kind too – Salome’s favorite.

Salome wanders sleepily into the kitchen a few minutes later and smiles at the sight of pancake batter and Alex accidentally covering the counter with flour. “Can we have chocolate chips too?”

“They’re in the cupboard,” Alex says, nodding her head toward the right one and frowning at the mixing bowl. Why must pancakes be so messy?

Salome practically skips over to the cupboard and stands on her tiptoes to reach the chocolate chips. She drags a stool over to where Alex stands and clambers onto it to pour chocolate into the bowl.

“Not too many,” Alex chides, scooting the bowl away from her with a laugh. “I’d like some pancakes with my chocolate, thank you.”

Salome huffs good-naturedly and digs a hand into the bag, popping some into her mouth and chomping happily. “Why are you making pancakes?”

“Because you like them,” Alex says simply. “Do I need a reason?”

Shrugging, Salome swallows her mouthful of chocolate, and Alex swipes the bag from her before she can dive in for seconds. “If it’s not a special day, we usually have cereal or toast. Is today special?”

“Kind of,” Alex hedges, silently berating herself for thinking Salome wouldn’t see right through her. She should have learned by now – Salome knows much more than she lets on.

“Is it because you’re happy Matty is our friend again?” Salome looks up at her with innocent, wide brown eyes.

Alex looks away and concentrates on mixing pancake batter so her daughter doesn’t see the tears well in her eyes. “Yes, love,” she says, staring at the chocolate chips in the batter through blurry vision. “That’s exactly why.”

“I’m happy too.” Salome sneaks a hand into the batter and Alex gently slaps it away, taking the bowl with her to the stove. “I missed him. He’s not going to go away again, is he?”

Smiling a little as she begins pouring batter onto the frying pan, Alex says, “No, I don’t think he is.”

When the pancakes are done, fluffy, stacked, and dripping with syrup on their plates, and tall glasses of milk next to them, Alex and Salome sit at the counter and swing their dangling legs. Salome puts entirely too much butter on her pancakes but Alex says nothing, choosing to watch her instead. “I want to talk to you about something,” she says. “About Matty. Me and Matty, actually.”

Salome immediately stops slathering butter on her pancakes, attention fully on her mother. “Are we going to talk about how sad you’ve been now?”

Never in her life has Alex felt more inadequate – at being a mother, at being a decent human being, or even at using words. Salome is entirely too intuitive for such a young girl, and the way she always manages to see right through Alex and her carefully crafted fictions has never failed in making her feel like the smallest speck in all the universe. Alex always thinks she’s doing such a good job of hiding everything and she always finds out later that Salome had never been fooled for a minute. Her daughter is ten going on thirty.

Pushing away her half-eaten pancakes – her stomach has rebelled against what little she has managed to eat – Alex forces down the bite in her mouth and searches for the right thing to say. Nothing comes to mind. “Well,” she finally says, “I suppose we are…”

Salome stabs at a lone chocolate chip with her fork and says nothing.

Alex watches her silently for a moment before reaching out and running a hand over Salome’s tangled curls. “What are you thinking, darling? Is there something you’d like to ask me?”

Salome nods.

“Well, go on then,” Alex says. “I took an honesty pill this morning. No lying or my nose grows.” She pinches Salome’s side playfully, smiling when her daughter squirms away with a muffled giggle. “This is the perfect chance to ask me anything. Want to know what you’re getting for your

birthday?”

Salome looks up at her ruefully. “There’s no such thing as an honesty pill.”

“Is too!” Alex says, putting on a look of affront. “Try me. Ask anything.”

Biting her lip, Salome watches her closely. “Was Matty the reason you were sad?”

And there it is. The question she’d been dreading. Salome doesn’t beat around the bush.

Alex had thought she’d done a pretty good job of acting like everything was just peachy these last six months, but apparently, those who know her best haven’t been fooled. Perhaps she should rethink this acting thing. Blowing out an unsteady breath through pursed lips, Alex wipes a drop of syrup away from the corner of Salome’s mouth and does the only thing she can. She answers honestly.

“In a way. It was my fault, really. I was sad because I loved Matty very much and I didn’t want to be away from him.”

Her voice is a little weak even to her own ears, and she’s not quite sure she’ll be able to get through this whole conversation without the appearance of tears, but she’s going to try her damnedest. Salome has seen her cry enough.

Salome’s follow-up question is immediate. “Why were you away from him?”

“I thought it was better that Matty spend time with Daisy and be with somebody his own age,” she says.

Frowning down at her plate, Salome says, “That doesn’t matter. Jeffrey at school likes to play with me and he’s two whole grades younger than I am.”

Alex laughs softly, smoothing Salome’s hair away from her face. “Yes, I suppose he is.”

“Did Matty marry Daisy?”

Swallowing, Alex shakes her head. “No, love, he didn’t.”

“Why?”

“Perhaps you should ask him.”

Salome swipes a finger over the rim of her glass of milk. “I think it’s because he wants to marry you instead.”

Heart in her throat, Alex asks, “You think?”

Salome nods. “He’s always looking at you…kind of like how Prince Charming looks at Cinderella.”

Alex snorts into her coffee at the comparison – currently Salome’s favorite movie. “Are you implying that Matt is Prince Charming?”

Shrugging, Salome mumbles around a mouthful of milk, “He looks like him. ‘Specially the hair.”

Alex laughs. “I’m sure he’ll be amused to hear that.”

“So…you love Matty?” Salome asks, squinting up at her.

Alex nods. “I do.”

“Not like you love Arthur or Karen, though? You mean like how River loves the Doctor? With kissing and stuff?”

Smiling but forcing herself not to laugh, Alex says, “Yes, quite like that…Does it bother you?”

“No,” Salome says, turning her attention back to her plate. “As long as you don’t kiss in front of me.”

“I’ll be sure to mention it to him,” she promises.

And just like that, it’s over.

Heart still pounding, Alex watches her daughter go back to her breakfast, humming under her breath as she swings her legs. Alex wants to laugh. She has been so worried about what Salome might say, but her daughter doesn’t seem to mind at all. As long as the kissing is kept to a minimum and marriage is on the cards, Salome is all for it.

As Alex begins to clean up the mess in the kitchen, Salome slides off her bar stool and scurries up behind her, wrapping her arms tightly around her waist. Just as quickly, she’s off again, running into the living room and turning on the television.

Smiling widely down at the soapy dishcloth in her hand, Alex decides that once the counter is spotless, she’s going to call Matt. Because she can, and because his voice in her ear is quickly becoming the only thought in her head, but mostly because Matt makes her happy. And Salome wants her to be happy, even if it means her mother is snogging Salome’s very favorite grown-up.

--

Matt can’t help but be wracked with guilt as he watches Daisy drive away from his home for the last time. Sitting in the driver’s seat, her mother glares at him until it’s highly necessary for her to look at the road in front of her.

Instead being on her honeymoon, Daisy had spent the day after her wedding day having her family help her remove all of her things from his place. Every piece of her is gone, every piece of make-up, every article of clothing. The inside of his home looks completely bare; he hadn’t realized how much of the stuff was hers.

But alongside the guilt, he feels relief.

With much nagging on her mother’s part, they had talked (more like she shouted and he tried to

calmly explain everything). It hadn’t been very amiable. He knew not to expect that from her -not when he walked out on her on their wedding day. Not when he had to tell her that he’s been cheating on her.

He shudders, rocking on his heels. He had come home and literally walked into her throwing things at his face. He could probably make a list of different household items that had smacked him in the forehead in the first minute he was home.

But he won’t.

He had done what he needed to and that’s enough. He had told her the truth.

“You deserve to know,” he’d said. “I’ve been seeing someone else for a while now.”

Daisy had asked who this woman was, and he’d told her.

There hadn’t been much talking after that.

A lot of punching, though, and more throwing.

But no tears, either.

Sighing, Matt backtracks into his empty home. At least the worst is over. She knows everything and if she wants to talk calmly later, he’s more than willing.

Plopping down on his couch, he breathes deeply and rubs at his still-sore forehead. The television is gone (he’s going to have to get his back out of storage), so he settles for searching his pockets for his mobile. When in doubt, call Alex.

The phone rings for a bit longer than he expects, but he doesn’t have to listen to the droning tone for long.

“Can’t stay away, can you?” Alex answers, sounding extremely chipper and very content.

“You know me – glutton for your beautiful voice.” He tries to sound less exhausted than he feels. He doesn’t want to ruin her glorious good mood. Of course, she knows him better than that.

“What’s wrong, love?”

“Daisy just left,” he begins, standing to pace the empty space where the coffee table used to be. “I told her everything and she took it well enough. I mean, if throwing things at my head is a good thing. She didn’t cry, though. I was expecting tears. Is that incredibly conceited of me?”

Alex is quiet on the other line for a moment, and he wonders what she’s thinking. Is she thinking this was a bad idea? Does she regret any of it? Does she feel blame for--

“At least you told her at all,” she says, but her voice doesn’t sound any less chipper. “I think anger is a good outlet for some people. Your head must be in terrible pain, though.”

He laughs, wholeheartedly, and silently marvels at how she can be so amazing even now. How blessed is he to have her all to himself?

“I’ve had worse,” he tells her honestly, and for a moment they’re both quiet, no doubt remembering the shocking image of his hand breaking through the wood of a door. He clears his throat and continues, “Did you talk to Salome this morning?”

“Oh, yes,” Alex says, sounding even happier if possible. “She didn’t seem surprised at all. She actually seemed…relieved? Happy, I’d say.”

“Precious girl, she is,” Matt smiles hugely. The feeling of overwhelming joy spreads from his head to his toes and all memories of the past three hours are quickly wiped from his mind. His poppet is happy he and Alex are together, that they love each other.

She’s happy.

“Don’t go getting too excited, there, Mister,” Alex interrupts, obviously knowing him far too well. “About a half hour after I told her, she demanded to ask you a few questions herself. I, being the lovely mother I am, couldn’t say no.”

“That’s positively frightening,” Matt says, and he’s not lying. The idea of Salome asking him questions about his relationship with her mother? A shudder lances through his body and he almost misses Alex’s laugh.

“She compared us to Prince Charming and Cinderella,” Alex giggles, completely sidestepping his claim of fear.

“Right of her, too. You’re definitely my princess,” Matt says suggestively, plopping back down on his couch. He grins at her gasp, proud of his ability to take her off guard like that.

“When are you coming back?” She asks, voice breathless and soft. He licks his lips, glancing around his home and at the clock – at least Daisy hadn’t taken that too.

“Now, if you’d like. Nothing’s keeping me here.”

“You have an hour to get here,” she demands. “Salome requested Marie’s audience at the park this afternoon, said she needed help with something or other.”

“On my way,” he says quickly, hopping up to gather his keys and wallet. “Hey, Alex?”

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

“Silly man. I love you, too.”

When the phone line goes dead, he’s halfway out the door and smiling like a madman. He loves hearing her happy.

Oh, he loves her.

He didn’t think he’d ever be at this point with her. He didn’t even think he’d be with her again. But hearing her say those words? Those three little words – that on their own mean nothing – directed towards him?

It makes his skin tighten and his heart race. It makes him smile and want to cry. She bloody loves him.

He knew that before, of course. He knew she loved him.

But this is better than anything he’d ever imagined. The real feeling of having her voice it so clearly, to him.

He’s sorry for Daisy, guilty as fuck for it too, but Alex makes it better. She is his reason for living now, and he can’t bring himself to regret anything.

Chapter End Notes

You guys and your reviews are so fabulous -- we love you! For this chapter, Brinney wrote from Matt's point of view and I wrote from Alex's. Chapter title comes from In Our Bedroom After The War by Stars. Thanks to Trialia for the beta!

I'm yours and suddenly you're mine Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes

Matt sits on the couch in Alex’s living room, staring down his tormentor. She sits on the floor, legs criss-crossed beneath her, staring at him with a determination that scares the wits out of him.

“You’re dating my mom,” Salome states, mouth in a firm line. He furrows his brow, wondering how exactly he should handle such a statement. She waits quietly for his confirmation and his nerves become more frayed, if possible.

“Yes,” he says tentatively and then purses his lips. This wouldn’t be so terribly frightening if Alex hadn’t told her daughter that the reason she’d been upset for those long six months had been because she couldn’t be with him. Now, Salome has this notion that he has questionable intentions and she’d decided the only thing to do was to talk to him herself.

“And you love her,” she states again. It’s almost as if she’s reading off a checklist -- Matt wouldn’t put it past her to have created one beforehand.

“Yes,” he agrees again, leaning forward on his knees and resting his chin against his knuckles.

“And you missed her as much as she missed you?” This time it’s a question, as if Salome is unsure of what his response will be. Slipping from the couch to sit in front of her on the floor, he leans in towards her, face softening.

“I probably missed her a heck of a lot more than she missed me, poppet,” he murmurs, offering the ten year old a smile. She slowly loses the stern expression, a small smile working its way across her face

“Did you miss me, Matty?” She asks, biting her lip. She hasn’t moved, though he’s gotten to the point that if he leans over anymore, he’d probably fall flat on his face in the middle of the living room. A loud laugh leaves him and he quickly smothers it, noting the unamused look she’s giving him.

“So bloody much, kiddo. So much it burned like the fires of Hell,” he grins, and her answering smile blows him away. She leaps at him, wrapping her arms around his neck entirely too tight, telling him that he can never, ever leave them again.

“Language, Matt,” Alex chastises from doorway, eyebrow arched. Her smirk betrays her tone and he offers her a lopsided grin. He hefts himself and Salome up, holding her to him as if she’s a toddler more than the young girl she is. She clings to him, obviously unwilling to let go anytime soon.

“Sorry, love, but it was an honest answer,” Matt chuckles, ruffling Salome’s hair as he advances on his girlfriend. He kisses her softly, smiling when she returns it. Salome pushes at his face, giggling.

“None of that while I’m right here!”

Matt lingers for another moment, loving the free-easy feel of not having to hide his love for Salome’s mother in front of her anymore. It’s such a different experience after having to hide it from everyone. Now, he can kiss Alex in front of two people if he counts Arthur – that’s a whole lot more than the zero it used to be.

After a moment, Alex shoves at his chest and he backs off, watching the smile on her face widen. It sends warmth up his spine to know he put that smile there. He’s the one who has made her that happy.

“All right, princess,” Alex says, bopping her daughter’s nose lightly. She sends Matt a look, clearly saying that Salome doesn’t need to be carried, before continuing, “you remember the rules, yes?”

“Mhm, course I do. Rule one, I cannot tell anyone. That is the most important rule above all of the rules. If rule one is breached, we may very well get stuck between a…a…hard rock and a stone place? Matty, did I get that right?” Salome scrunches up her nose questioningly.

Alex looks at Matt with a raised eyebrow. Clearing his throat, he shakes his head. “It’s a rock and a hard place, poppet. But close enough. Continue.”

“Rule two, I am not allowed to walk around in my underwear anymore. Rule three, Matty is not allowed to walk around in his underwear either. Wait, mom, why can you walk around in your underwear?”

Realizing this conversation is going to have far more questions than answers, Matt spins Salome

around, looking for her paint set. When he doesn’t see it, he looks down at the confused girl in his arms. “Where’s your set, sweet?”

Salome’s eyes light up as she suddenly remembers something, and she wiggles from his grasp, only to tug him down the hallway by the wrist. He looks back at Alex, who seems equally as surprised. They follow the young girl into her bedroom, where she makes them wait as she digs through her closet.

A few minutes later, she tugs a stack of canvases out, looking through each one with a critical eye. When she finally finds the one she wants – one of the biggest canvases – she turns back to them with a huge, breathtaking smile.

“I used the rest of my paints to finish this picture. I forgot to ask mom for more.” As she speaks, she hands the canvas over to Matt, who has his arm stretched out to take it. He looks down at the painting in awe, eyes widening and his breath catching.

It’s a very well done portrait – for a ten-year-old – of the three of them. He can distinctly see what is supposed to be him holding Alex’s hand as they sit on a picnic blanket and watch a very detailed Salome fly a kite. When he looks over to Alex; she has tears in her eyes but her smile is beautiful.

“Salome, it’s…” Alex begins, looking toward her daughter. She laughs in that moment, sweeping Salome into a hug. “You’re bloody brilliant, you are. So talented.”

“Ooomf! Mom, it’s no big deal, really. I just remember Matty talking about a picnic one day and…”

“We are going on that picnic, poppet,” Matt cuts in, smiling as he places the canvas off to the side. He joins in on the hug, wrapping his arms around both of his favorite ladies. He places a kiss to Salome’s forehead and one to Alex’s lips while Salome looks away.

“You better,” Alex says with a smile when he pulls back.

“Yeah, Matty, you better,” Salome agrees, slapping his arm lightly.

He smiles and squeezes them tighter.

His family.

--

She stands in her bathroom, dressing gown open as she takes in her appearance. She looks old. There are laugh lines around her mouth, crow’s feet at her eyes. She wants to ask him why he wants her -- wants this.

Alex is nearly fifty years old, and Matt looks at her like she's a twenty-something looker with no baggage.

She just doesn't understand.

Strong arms wrap around her midsection and she watches in the reflection of the mirror as he draws circles on her naked stomach. His chin rests on her shoulder and he offers her a lazy smile.

"Whatcha doin'?" He asks, turning his face into her hair and breathing deeply.

"Thinking about how old I am," she answers honestly, placing her small hands over his on her stomach. He scoffs in her ear and she thinks she should be offended, but she's not. He's standing half-naked in her bathroom with his arms wrapped around her, not his…ex-fiancé-almost-wife. God, the thought is baffling.

"You're not old," he murmurs, eyes meeting hers in the mirror. He pushes her against the sink, hands moving out from underneath hers as he traces her sides, breasts and neck, pulling her hair back. He nibbles on her earlobe as he pushes the open robe from her shoulders. A gasp leaves her mouth as her skin flushes, body reacting as easily as it had the first time. But this isn't about sex or gratification. "You need to see yourself as I see you, pet."

"And how's that?" She whispers, tilting her head back against his shoulder, their eyes never breaking contact in the glass. His eyes flash and he takes her hands, moving them across her body.

"As a beautiful, vibrant, young goddess," he smiles softly. Her heart melts and she breaks their locked gaze, following their combined hands across her nude form. It's simple, the way their fingers leave faint white marks in their wake, moving up and down the front of her body. He trails

her fingers across her thighs, whispering, "I have never seen anyone more gorgeous than you."

In that moment, she feels beautiful. She feels young and alive and so very, very loved, it almost hurts.

She rips her hands from his as she turns to press her body against him, pulling his face down for a rough kiss. Their tongues battle but it's a quick win for her as he backs down, letting himself be shoved against the bathroom wall. When she pulls back, she smiles breathlessly at him, eyes sparkling.

"I love you, you know that?" She says, and it's brilliant to be able to say it, over and over. Three words, repeated in the past week over a thousand times and it's never going to get old.

"Oh, love," he grins, kissing her nose, "I've known it from the beginning."

It's the best start to a morning she has ever had.

--

Kissing Matt is a bit like indulging in her favorite wine. In small doses, it just makes her cheeks a little more flushed and her smile wider. It might even make her giggle. In excess, however, the effects are dangerous. There are numerous possibilities for embarrassing herself and quite possibly winding up naked and unable to remember her own name. Now, lying among the blankets and pillows on the bed in Matt’s trailer with him hovering over her, kissing her positively tipsy, Alex finds it difficult to remember why undressing him right now would be a bad idea. At the moment, it sounds rather wonderful.

Moaning softly as he nips at her bottom lip, Alex clutches the fabric of his tweed jacket in one hand and grips one of his braces in the other fist. One hand wrapped in her hair and fingers of the other sneaking steadily beneath her top, Matt finally pulls away from her red and swollen lips to trail his mouth across her jaw. Alex lifts her leg, snaking it around one of his and shifting her hips.

Groaning into her ear, Matt tightens his grip on her hair. “Alex,” he says, and she pants breathlessly into his neck.

“Mm?”

He doesn’t respond, covering her mouth with his once more, his kiss less languid and more urgent now. Alex lifts her hips into him again, whining wordlessly into his mouth. Growling softly, Matt’s hand slips from beneath her top and slides down her thigh to the edge of her skirt.

Oh yes. Please.

His long fingers trail up the inside of her thigh and Alex tosses her head back, panting up at the ceiling. His fingers hook into the top of her knickers and just as he begins to tug them down her hips, someone clears their throat pointedly.

They both freeze, staring at each other in horror.

“You should really lock the door, you know,” comes a voice from the doorway. “Anyone could walk in.”

At the sound of Arthur’s voice, Matt rolls his eyes but Alex gasps, scrambling out from underneath him to tug down her skirt and adjust her top. She feels horribly rumpled and quite like her father has caught her with a boy in her room. In a way, she supposes he has.

Matt is a little slower to react, sitting up lazily. He doesn’t bother adjusting the collar of his coat or running a hand through his disheveled hair. He stares at Arthur, who leans against the doorframe with his arms crossed and his eyebrows raised. “Don’t you knock?”

While Arthur shrugs, Alex turns to look at Matt incredulously. Arthur has just walked in on them practically mating in Matt’s trailer and all he can say is ‘don’t you knock?’ He smiles reassuringly at her but she looks at Arthur again, and her voice trembles as she tries to explain their situation away. “Look Arthur, I know this looks really bad but it’s not - ”

Matt places a warm, gentle hand over her shaking ones and she looks at him, all bemusement. “It’s alright, love. He sort of…knows.”

Alex gapes. “What?” She glances quickly between Arthur and Matt, frowning. “What do you mean he sort of knows?”

“He found us out a while ago,” Matt says, shrugging.

“And you didn’t think to mention it to me?” She snaps, disbelieving. How could he have kept something as huge as one of their friends discovering their secret from her?

Matt rubs at the back of his neck awkwardly, his expression pained. “I found out he knew when we were…apart.”

Alex swallows, watching him avoid her gaze. Those six months away from each other is a topic they try not to bring up. They’ve only talked about it once – tearful and wrapped around each other one night – and now they just want to live for what they have now. They don’t want to dwell on those precious months they wasted. Inching closer to him on the bed, Alex turns over her hand beneath his, lacing their fingers together.

Smiling a little, Matt squeezes her hand, looking at her through his hair. “Forgot to tell you after everything was all better,” he says, and his smile turns mischievous. “I was a bit distracted.”

Laughing softly, Alex kisses his cheek. “You weren’t the only one.”

“Still here,” Arthur says from the doorway, and Alex starts away from Matt out of sheer habit. It’s strange, having someone else know. “Seriously, lock the door next time. What if I had been Steven or God forbid, Karen?”

Matt winces. “Right. Sorry.”

“So…you’re okay with this?” Alex asks. “You’re not angry? You don’t think it’s wrong?”

“It was wrong when Matt was still with Daisy,” Arthur says, looking up from studying his shoes to meet her eyes. “It’s not wrong now. And I was never angry.”

Matt’s thumb sweeps gently across her knuckles and Alex almost leans her head against his shoulder before she realizes something important. “Hang on,” she says, holding up a hand. “You said he found us out. Does that mean you didn’t tell him?”

“Of course not,” Matt says, scowling.

Alex looks at Arthur curiously. “Then how did you find out?”

Suddenly looking very uncomfortable, Arthur turns his eyes to his shoes once more, like they’ve suddenly become endlessly fascinating. “Erm,” he says fumblingly. “I sort of uh…Well, I had my suspicions for a while, just from watching you flirt shamelessly. But I didn’t really know for sure until…you know that night we were all at the pub and I had that chugging contest with Dave and you two had that staring contest?”

Matt and Alex glance warily at each other before nodding.

“Well, I happened to drop my mobile under the table and spotted your foot in Matt’s lap,” he says, still not looking at them. His cheeks are a little red. “And then when you both disappeared and came back all rumpled, I figured I was right about you two.”

“Oh my god,” Alex wails, turning her face into Matt’s shoulder. He puts his arm around her and pats her back comfortingly.

As horrifying as it is that Arthur has known all along, she can’t help but think back on the last year. Some of Arthur’s comments or glances suddenly hold new meaning. She remembers him sometimes hugging her a little too tightly during her long separation from Matt, and she’d wondered then how he was always so good at knowing when she needed a little extra affection. Now, so many things make more sense.

Lifting her head, Alex looks at Arthur with trepidation. She’s afraid to even ask, but she has to know. “Who else have you told?”

At that, Arthur looks up from his shoes, gaze piercing. “I haven’t told anyone, Alex. I promise.”

“You mean you’ve known since practically the start and you never said a word to anyone?”

He shakes his head, looking sheepish.

Sudden tears in her eyes, Alex stands from the bed and crosses the room to where Arthur stands, arms still folded defensively over his chest. She throws her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder. His arms come around her instantly, enveloping her in a tight hug. “Thank you,

dad,” she says, and he presses a stubbly kiss to her cheek.

“What are families for?” He laughs softly, rubbing her back.

Coming up behind her, Matt places one hand on Alex’s hip and uses the other to ruffle Arthur’s hair affectionately. “Can I get in on this family hug? I’m feeling a bit left out.”

Alex reaches out a hand and tugs him close and Matt laughs, wrapping his arm around her waist. Suddenly very close to Arthur’s face, Matt beams and waggles his fingers at him.

Grinning, Arthur greets, “Son-in-law.”

“Ooh,” Matt says as Alex finally pulls away after one last fond kiss to Arthur’s cheek. “Quite like the sound of that. Do I get to call you and Kaz dad and mum now?”

“Maybe,” Arthur says, considering. “If you go make me some coffee.”

With Karen filming a scene by herself for the moment, the three of them wind up at a picnic table under a tree on the lot, cups of coffee in hand. The air is cold and Alex resists the urge to lean into Matt for warmth.

“So what now?” Arthur asks, hands wrapped around his coffee cup. “I mean, what’s the plan? You can’t go on hiding forever.”

“We don’t plan to,” Matt says, glancing at Alex with a small smile. “We’re just waiting for the right time.”

“It’s only been a week since the wedding,” Alex says, looking down into her coffee cup and watching the steam rise up to meet her.

“Almost-wedding,” Matt corrects, and his hand squeezes her knee affectionately under the table.

“Almost-wedding,” she agrees, smiling. “It just doesn’t seem appropriate to announce anything

yet. Maybe in a few months.”

Arthur scratches the back of his neck awkwardly and Alex wonders if he’s noticed Matt’s hand sliding up from her knee to rest on her thigh. They really should be more careful in public, but the giddiness of just being together again is a heady rush – a high she hopes they never come down from. She doesn’t ever want to take for granted how very lucky she is, how very close she came to not having this moment.

“You know it’s not going to be easy,” Arthur says. “No matter how long you wait.”

The three of them exchange uneasy glances and turn to stare down at their coffee. Alex presses her hand into Matt’s under the table and he laces their fingers together. “We know.”

Chapter End Notes

Thank you all so much for your comments! In this chapter, Britney wrote Matt's point of view and the first Alex scene, and I wrote the last Alex scene. Chapter title comes from Aqualung's Brighter Than Sunshine. Enjoy the fluff:)

The whole world lost control Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes

Alex is only half awake when Salome scurries into her bedroom. The weak English sunlight filters through the blinds and across her face, and she has just managed to pull the blankets over her head, burrow further into the nest of pillows she has created for herself, and sigh contentedly. On the verge of falling back into blissful sleep, she vaguely registers Salome’s hurried footsteps.

“Mom?”

She senses Salome hovering just over her head but she doesn’t pull back the blankets. “Mm?”

“You and Matty are kissing on tv.”

Yawning into her pillow, Alex shuts her eyes again and mumbles, “Yes love, it’s called Doctor Who. Mummy is paid to kiss -- ”

“Nooo,” Salome says, stomping one socked foot impatiently. “Not River and the Doctor. You and Matty. You’re in your robe and Matty is touching your hair. The news lady says it’s shocking.”

Alex’s eyes snap open under the blankets and her heart instantly begins to hammer. Sleep is now a distant, fleeting thought. Sitting bolt upright in bed, she yanks the covers from her head and stares at her daughter in horror through the tangled state of her hair. “What?”

Salome shrugs, fiddling with her pajama top and biting her lip nervously.

Stumbling out of bed and ending up tangled in sheets and blankets, Alex nearly trips in her haste. She untangles herself and sprints to the living room, where the television blares.

There it is – right on the screen for the whole world to see.

A grainy photograph – probably taken from someone’s cell phone from a distance – of herself and Matt standing outside his trailer, wrapped around each other. She remembers that moment, just

two days ago. They’d been on their way from lunch to film a scene together. They had eaten in Matt’s trailer under the pretense of going over lines, taking bites of peanut butter sandwiches in between soft kisses.

Afterwards, just outside the trailer, Matt had stopped and pulled her close for one last kiss. It had been a stupid thing to do – anyone could have seen them but Alex is always so weak when it comes to Matt and his kisses. She hadn’t protested, and as Matt’s hand buried itself in her hair and her mouth had opened to his, the lingering taste of peanut butter on him had made her smile.

The memory has been a sweet one still lingering fondly in the back of her head, one that makes her smile in quiet moments. Until now, anyway, because someone had been watching.

Oh, they’d been so bloody careless. How could they have been so thoughtless? So stupid?

Watching two news anchors analyze the picture, pointing out hand placement and just how close they’re standing to each other, wondering aloud how long this “affair” has been going on and whether or not it has something to do with Matt’s abrupt runaway act at his own wedding, Alex stares at the screen and feels like she might be sick.

Behind her, Salome has been fiddling with Alex’s iPhone, and she holds it out now, looking contrite. “You’re on the front page.”

Alex grabs the phone from her, feeling panicked breaths hitching in her chest.

The Daily Mail.

Oh god. The picture is on the front page of the Daily Mail.

“Oh my god.”

Exiting out of the app, Alex checks her call log and nearly curses aloud when she sees tens upon tens of missed calls from everyone from her sisters to Steven Moffat to her hairdresser. Her entire world has gone to hell and she had been sleeping!

“Mom?”

“What?” She asks, trying not to sound agitated and failing entirely. Salome seems to be the bearer of bad news today and Alex isn’t sure how much more she can take.

“Who are all those people outside?”

Feeling her stomach drop into her knees and her heart leap into her throat, Alex slowly turns on the spot to see Salome peering out of the curtains into the front yard. Feeling rather like a woman walking to her doom, Alex joins her daughter at the window and sees an entire mob of people crowded around her front gate – reporters and photographers lying in wait like sharks for their prey, and the occasional fan holding up a sign of support. Thankfully, none of the fans seem to be angry ones. For now.

Simultaneously, they all spot her standing with Salome at the window and begin to shout and snap pictures. Alex gasps, yanking the curtain back into place and stepping back from the window. She glances down at Salome, who looks back up at her, perplexed. “Stay away from the windows, love.”

Salome wanders back to the sofa to watch more news coverage, hugging a throw pillow tightly to her chest. Alex turns her attention back to her phone, ignoring all the missed calls and dialing the one number that matters right now. His mobile goes directly to voice mail and Alex lets out a tiny scream of frustration before hanging up and dialing his home telephone.

“Come on, you stupid man. Answer your bloody phone!” It rings for a while, and just as Alex is about to toss her phone out the window at the press in sheer frustration, he picks up.

Voice still gruff with sleep, he mumbles into the phone, “Ello?”

Oh, his sleepy voice does things to her. Unspeakable things. She swallows. He obviously has no idea what has happened while they slept like they hadn’t a care in the world – she’s almost reluctant to break the news to him. Between her unwillingness to tell him and the way that deep growl in his voice affects her, Alex opens her mouth to begin the best way she can, but the only thing that comes out is a shouted, spluttered, “Front page!”

“What?” Matt says, annoyed. “Yell a little louder, Kingston, I don’t think they heard you in Cardiff! Bloody hell, my ears.”

Running a hand through her hair, Alex begins pacing toward the kitchen just to give her restless body something to do. “Front page, Matt!”

As if registering the level of alarm in her voice, Matt stops complaining under his breath. “Alex, calm down. What are you talking about?”

She takes a deep breath but the hysterical panic is still rising rapidly. From the living room, she hears an anchorwoman announce from the television, ‘Well, they certainly appear very cozy, don’t they Jeff?’

‘They certainly do, Jessica. And I don’t know about our viewers but the age difference definitely calls up memories of the breakup of Alex Kingston’s first marriage to actor Ralph Fiennes…’

Alex stops listening abruptly, forcing her attention away from the sound. She resists the urge to shout at Salome to turn the bloody thing off. This isn’t her daughter’s fault.

She swallows. “Any chance your mobile is off?”

“Yes, actually.”

“Check it.”

She waits impatiently, tapping her bare foot against the floor as she hears Matt rustling around, no doubt searching for his mobile in the pocket of his discarded jeans. “Hmm. Thirty-five missed calls. I’m popular this morning.”

Alex takes another breath and shuts her eyes, fighting down the urge to scream. She will be calm and use her inside voice. She will be an adult and not resort to yelling at the man she loves just because he is a clueless twat. “What about the newspaper? Seen it this morning?”

“No. Why?”

“Look out your window.”

Matt huffs, and she can just picture him sitting on the edge of his bed and running a hand through his hair, trying to be patient. “I don’t like this game anymore. What the hell is going on?”

“Just look!” She snaps.

He huffs again but she can hear him shoving blankets out of the way in his effort to climb out of bed. “Fine, going to look.” There’s a short pause and she hears Matt curse loudly before a thunderous crash forces her to pull the phone away from her ear.

“Are you alright?”

“Fine. Tripped over a boot and fell against the nightstand in my haste to get away from the bloody village camped outside my house!” He sounds a little more panicked now and Alex knows this shouldn’t make her feel better, but it does. “What are they doing there?”

Alex taps her nails rapidly against the countertop and says, “Get on the Daily Mail website and have a look.”

“Is this some kind of bizarre scavenger hunt?” Matt grumbles, and she hears him rummaging for his phone again to check. There’s a brief moment of silence while he navigates his phone and she listens to his calm, measured breaths and tries to mimic them, unsuccessfully.

She knows the moment he sees the picture because she hears his sharp intake of breath. “Buggering hell.”

“Exactly,” she says, slumping down into a bar stool, relieved that they’re finally on the same page. “This was not supposed to happen, Matt!”

“Well,” Matt hedges, and he still sounds far too collected, considering the circumstances. “I admit it’s a bit early, but it’s not like we weren’t going to tell people eventually.”

“Yes,” she says, speaking slowly, as if to a child. “When it was our choice. Not because we’ve been forced out of hiding by a bloody picture of us snogging on the front page of the Daily Mail!”

“Oi, that was a good snog,” he says, and she can practically feel him smiling. “I remember that snog.”

“Oh my god,” she says, incredulous. “That’s what you have to say right now? Really? ‘It was a good snog’?!”

“Well it was, wasn’t it?” He asks, his voice teasing.

She cannot even speak. Why isn’t he more upset about this?

“Alex, darling,” he says, as if sensing her impending anxiety attack. “Don’t forget to breathe.”

“I don’t need to breathe,” she snaps. “I need to find whoever took that picture and stuff the bloody newspaper down their throats!”

“Alright. I’m coming over.”

“What? No you’re not!”

“Yes I am.”

He sounds so matter of fact that for a moment, she says nothing. It isn’t until she hears him rummaging around for a shirt that she finds her voice. “Matt, there are reporters everywhere. Don’t be stupid. I’m all right, honestly. Don’t go charging through the paparazzi and wind up crashing just because I’m having a bit of a meltdown.”

“A bit?” He asks, scoffing. “You’re threatening to choke someone with a copy of the Daily Mail!”

Alex winces. “I’m sorry. I’m just…” She sighs, feeling sudden tears prick her eyes. “I didn’t want it to be this way. Like we’ve been keeping us a secret because we’re ashamed or something.”

“I know, love,” Matt says, voice soft. “But you can’t control everything. Just look at it this way – we don’t have to hide anymore. If I want to kiss you in the middle of the street then I bloody well

can.”

Suddenly understanding why he’s being so mellow about everything, Alex smiles through the tears in her eyes. “No hiding. It will certainly be a nice change.”

“That’s the spirit, darling,” he says, laughing.

Alex laughs too – their situation doesn’t seem so terrible anymore. Damn him, Matt has always been able to make everything more bearable. “I love you, you idiot.”

“Love you too,” he says, and the smile in his voice is evident. “I’ll be over as soon as I can get away. Don’t choke anyone without me.”

“Goodbye, Matt,” she says, and hangs up.

Still trying to drown out the sound of strangers speculating about her love life on national television, Alex begins scrolling through her phone again. Arthur has called her a total of six times and has left three voice messages. While she doesn’t plan on calling everyone back, she owes it to Arthur to let him know she’s all right.

He answers on the first ring and the first thing he says is, “How are you?”

She smiles, leaning her elbows on the countertop. “I’m okay.”

“You…have seen the telly, right?”

“Yes,” she laughs.

“God,” he sighs. “I woke up this morning and it was all over the place.”

In the living room, the television seems to have gotten louder. Now, they’re discussing the possibility of infidelity and whether she and Matt have been together since the very beginning of his tenure on the show. Alex huffs, blowing curls out of her eyes. “Tell me about it.”

“Are you sure you’re alright? I mean, I know you two wanted to wait a while before you told anyone --”

“I’m fine, honestly. The timing isn’t great, but it had to happen eventually.” She frowns at the granite countertop. “It’s our fault, really. Should have been more careful.”

“You know Karen is going to kill me once she finds out I knew all along,” he says. “Considering she’s been calling me all morning and I’m a really bad liar, she’s going to find out soon.”

He’s trying to distract her and it’s working. “Just stay away from her until we’re on set Monday,” she laughs. “I’ll protect you.”

“Have you spoken to Matt? I can’t get him to answer his bloody phone -- ”

“Call his house,” she says. “That’s how I managed to get him.”

“Will do,” he promises. “And maybe you should stay in the house today? I went by your place earlier and it’s a bloody mess.”

She snorts. “Yes. I made the mistake of looking out my window and now I’m sure there are about twenty pictures of me in my nightie on the internet.”

Arthur stifles a laugh. “Sorry.”

She rolls her eyes. “But could you please talk to Matt? He’s probably hatching some sort of madcap escape plan as we speak.”

“Involving a fake disguise and his motorbike, no doubt,” Arthur agrees with a laugh. “I’ll do my best to at least talk him out of the faux facial hair.”

Grinning into the phone, Alex says, “Thanks dear.”

When she hangs up, Alex makes Salome change the channel. She keeps her mobile off, the curtains shut, and tries to forget that her life has just been turned upside down. With thoughts of being able to hold Matt’s hand in public, and Arthur’s support in her head, it isn’t difficult to do.

XxX

It’s the middle of the night when the doorbell rings, and Alex is sprawled across Matt in her bed, both of them lying in silence as Matt traces random letters on the naked skin of her back. It’s just after midnight and Salome has been in bed for hours. The day has been a long one, filled with the media camping out outside Alex’s townhouse and the phone ringing off the hook.

Matt had eventually made it over after sneaking out on his motorbike with an overnight bag so he could stay with Alex. The press had followed him, snapping photographs, calling out questions and generally making a nuisance of themselves until Matt had shut Alex’s front door in their faces.

They haven’t left the house all day, haven’t even let Salome peer out through the curtains, and after a while, the press had given up for the day. Now, lying contentedly in bed and pressing lazy kisses to bare skin, neither one of them is happy with the thought of another reporter ringing the doorbell to ask for an interview.

Matt groans and Alex presses her lips to the skin of his chest. “Seriously? It’s after bloody midnight!”

“Send them away before they wake up Salome,” Alex says, rolling off him and sitting up.

Irritably running a hand through his hair, Matt pulls back the sheets and rummages around on the floor for his clothes. He yanks on a pair of jeans, heaving a sigh of annoyance when the bell rings again. He hurries from the bedroom to answer the door while Alex pulls on Matt’s t-shirt and boxers.

Padding barefoot down the hall, she finds Matt leaning against the doorway and talking softly to someone, arms crossed over his bare chest. He glances over his shoulder at her and motions her forward. “Got a visitor, Kingston.”

When he moves aside, Alex sees Karen standing in the porch light, looking rather dressed down in jeans and a thin sweater, ballet flats instead of heels. “Karen, honey,” she says, moving forward. “What are you doing here?”

“I had to wait for the press to go away to talk to you,” she says, smiling awkwardly. They haven’t spoken since the story of Alex’s relationship with Matt broke yesterday.

“Couldn’t just call, Kaz?” Matt asks, lifting an eyebrow.

“No,” Karen says, shaking her head. “I needed to see you in person.”

Alex wraps her arms around herself, suddenly uncomfortable with the conversation they’re no doubt going to have, and she looks up and smiles when she feels Matt’s gentle hand on the small of her back.

Karen watches them closely, but says nothing. Looking to Matt, she points a finger at his chest. “You and I are definitely going to talk, stupid face, but right now I want to talk to Alex.”

Matt nods solemnly before offering them a grin. “Alright, but keep the arguing to a minimum – Salome’s asleep down the hall.”

Alex rolls her eyes at him but Matt only presses a kiss to the top of her head and disappears down the hall and into her bedroom. She turns to Karen, who looks so uncertain in her presence that it pains her. Things used to be so easy with them – Karen as the Pretend Mummy and Alex as Pond Junior. It doesn’t feel so simple anymore – not now that Karen knows she has been keeping something so huge from everyone. Even her friends.

“Should we…?” Karen gestures to the living room, but Alex shakes her head.

“Since the press have gone, I’d rather sit outside. I’ve been cooped up in here all day.”

They end up sitting on the steps outside, shoulders brushing when they move. For a while, neither of them speaks. They sit and listen to the London traffic, quiet on Alex’s street now because of the late hour. A gentle breeze ruffles her curls and Alex closes her eyes, breathing in the night air.

“You lied to me,” Karen finally says, her voice soft.

Just as quietly, Alex replies, “I know.”

Shaking her head, Karen says, “No, I mean, you looked me in the eye on the night of Matt’s stag party and you lied to me.”

Alex remembers the look in Karen’s eyes that night, like she just wanted to understand why Alex always looked like her heart had been ripped out of her chest. “I’m sorry.”

“I thought we were friends.” Karen offers the townhouses across the street a hollow smile. “Stupid, really.”

“We are friends, love.” Alex stares down at her lap, studying the checked pattern of Matt’s boxers and wondering why everything always has to be so complicated.

Turning to look at her, Karen’s eyes burn a hole through the side of Alex’s face. “Then why? Why did you lie to me?”

Blowing out a breath of air into the night and watching it form a visible cloud in front of her, Alex runs a tired hand through her hair and glances at Karen. “Because I couldn’t tell you. What would you have thought of me?” She shrugs. “Besides, there was nothing you could do about it. Nothing I said to anyone could change what was happening, and I didn’t want to burden you with my problems, dear.”

Karen snorts. “That’s kind of the point of having friends, you know. Someone to share the burden with you.”

“If I’m miserable, you’re miserable?”

“That’s right,” Karen laughs, and it’s good to hear after the uncertainty between them a few minutes ago. She sobers pretty quickly, tracing patterns on her jeans absentmindedly. “I wouldn’t have thought of you any differently, you know.”

Alex raises a skeptical eyebrow.

Waving her away, Karen says, “I mean, I would have been shocked, like I was yesterday when I

found out. But I still would have been your friend.” She smiles. “And the second I saw you with Matt, I would have realized what was so incredibly obvious the moment he answered the door earlier. You make him happy. These last two weeks he’s been more cheerful than I’ve seen him in months.”

Alex smiles, fiddling with a loose thread on the hem of Matt’s ratty t-shirt. “You think?”

Karen nudges her gently and smiles back. “I know.”

They turn back to staring across the street and in the brief silence, Alex is suddenly very grateful for the wonderful people in her life. Her co-workers didn’t have to care about her the way they did. Arthur didn’t have to keep such a hefty secret from everyone but he did, just because he cared about her and Matt. Karen didn’t have to be here now, sitting on the front steps of her townhouse in the middle of the night and reassuring her even after Alex had lied to her face. Steven didn’t have to call her that afternoon and jokingly ask her if she and Matt were taking their roles a little too seriously. Alex knows now that no matter what the press say, nothing will change with the people who care for her.

Next to her, Karen stretches long legs out in front of her and sighs, tilting her head up to the night sky. “I’m sorry.”

Alex frowns. “What for?”

“That you went through all of that by yourself. You should have had someone to talk to. I should have noticed -- ”

“No,” Alex shakes her head, placing a hand over Karen’s. “People saw what we wanted them to see.” She shrugs. “Except Arthur, who apparently has super powers.”

Karen laughs, leaning her head against Alex’s shoulder. “Just wait until I talk to that idiot. I can’t believe he knew and didn’t tell me!”

“Don’t be too hard on him, “Alex says. “He was just trying to be a good friend.”

Karen straightens, nodding. “I know. He always is.”

Bumping the girl’s shoulder playfully, Alex says, “So are you.”

“You think?” Karen glances sideways at her.

Alex smiles. “I know.”

XxX

Morning comes too quickly, or consciousness does. It’s difficult to tell the difference, or exactly why she is awake. All that she knows is that she is, and she is not happy.

It feels as if it has only been five minutes since she fell asleep, and after the conversation she had with Karen last night (and the sex she had with Matt, right after), she would have appreciated more sleep. Finally pinpointing the cause of her sudden pull to reality – a loud crinkling above her head. What is that, newspaper? – Alex throws an arm over her head in an attempt to drown out the sound.

“Hah, this one’s the best,” Matt chuckles, straightening the paper. Is he talking to her? She’s asleep! Or trying to be, at least. While contemplating his sanity, Alex doesn’t have a choice but to listen as he begins to read: “Mid-life crisis? We don’t think so. Alex Kingston may have had some hard times in her life, but she’s a strong woman. No, we believe that the Kingston may have a few kinks. What else could it be?”

“Matt,” Alex grumbles when he pauses, opening her bleary eyes to look at the clock. 5:42am. What. The. Hell.

Ignoring her weak protest, he surges on. “She could find the twenty year difference to be a major turn on. Or maybe -- What?! I do not! They’re saying I have mummy issues! My mum and I get on just fine, thanks!”

“Oh my god! Matt! It’s only a quarter to six!” She whines, rolling over to yank the newspaper from his grasp. To the best of her ability with one hand, she crumples it and tosses it to the floor, all the while glaring at him from behind her messy curls.

“Eh, I’m sorry, baby,” he claims, rolling onto his side and scooting down the bed to face her. “I woke up about an hour ago and the paper was just lying there on your nightstand.”

“And you had to read it out loud and wake me up, you daft man?”

He shrugs nonchalantly, and Alex follows the movement with her eyes. Those shoulders, those collarbones always catch her attention at the most inopportune moments. He begins to smirk, the smirk she is always wary of. It usually means he’s planning something, and she usually doesn’t like that something (or likes it too much).

“I was planning on waking you up anyway,” he explains, moving closer to her.

Biting her lip and trying desperately to stay mad at him (but that face and those collarbones and that chest), she asks, “Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

Breath hot and heavy on her cheeks, he says slowly, voice husky, “So I could make love to you again.”

And then he’s kissing her, slow and soft, all lips. His hands thread through her hair, massaging gently at her scalp and swallowing the distinct mewls leaving her throat. The effect his touch and kiss have on her has always been extreme. The way he caresses her like she means the world to him (she supposes she does, in the end) and always puts her first. She feels her anger at him ebb slowly to the back of her mind.

“Love you,” he murmurs and she smiles, caressing his cheek with her thumb. His hands begin to trail down her body and she can’t help the shivers. They wrack her body in waves, the teasing touch causing her to convulse in a way that probably is not attractive.

“Still mad at you,” she breathes against his mouth, letting him push her down against the mattress. His hands flex against her hips, his erection pushing against her belly in an intoxicating way. The way his fingers caress her skin never fails to cause gooseflesh to erupt all across her body, from her toes to her scalp.

And the way his hands slide down her hips to grip her thighs (tight at first, followed by soothing strokes) to spread her legs has her biting his lip and tugging on it as she pulls desperately at his shoulders.

“No, you’re not,” he growls softly with a grind of his hips into hers. The action brings a broken moan to her lips as a fresh wave of arousal shoots through her.

“Shut up,” she commands, tugging his face down to hers by his ears. This kiss is similar to the last, unhurried. They have all the time in the world to enjoy each other. It’s a slow battle, his tongue seeking entrance into her mouth, only to be outdone by her. Back and forth, they fight each other, only breaking apart when breathing becomes difficult through the nose.

With his hands buried deep within her hair (just the way she likes it), he pulls back to look at her with such an intense gaze that she almost wants to shy away from it. She should be over the intensity that comes with this man, but she’s not. She’ll never understand the depth of his emotion for her, or the whys of it. She wouldn’t know where to start.

“Have I told you how much I love you?” Matt asks with bright eyes. He dips down, just for a moment, to brush his lips against hers. A soft caress. “All the things I love about you?”

Unable to keep up with his level of seriousness, she grins, avoiding the sting behind her eyes. She doesn’t deserve this. Oh, what has she done to deserve this? “No, but maybe you should.”

His reciprocating smile is breathtaking, but she doesn’t get much time to contemplate the beauty of him, because he’s moving again. His hardness pressing against her wet heat in just the right way, soft strokes, never penetrating. She gasps, licking her lips and toying with the hair at his nape to give her fingers something to do. She doesn’t break eye contact; doesn’t even think she could.

“You remember that first day?” He asks softly, and she can see the strain around his eyes and she knows this is difficult for him -- keeping up a conversation while also focusing on pleasure.

“The first day we met?” Alex questions, and her voice is breathless. She sounds as tired and aroused as she feels, all because of this man. The heels of her feet dig into the soft flesh of his ass, ensuring the continuation of his languid strokes.

“Yeah,” he says tightly, and for a moment, he simply searches her eyes. Fingers run across her temples and his strokes become slower, more purposeful. “You had me ensnared from that day on. The way you threw yourself into the work, the way you helped me. Those eyes. Alex, do you have any idea what those beautiful green eyes do to me?”

Her chance at replying is stolen when his next movement has him buried halfway inside her, her mouth opening and closing on lost words and replaced with an almost desperate sound. She feels like a livewire. He’s got her every nerve ending on fire with a few simple touches and barely-there penetration.

And those words, accompanied by that voice.

“You’re such a great mother,” he continues, and she stares, wide-eyed, up at him. She is so speechless at the moment, the combined feeling of pleasure and overwhelming love for a man she never thought she’d have a second chance with causing her to short circuit in whichever part of the brain that connects thought to speech. “The way you talk, so bloody eloquent and sarcastic and so charming.

“I don’t know where I’d be right now, you know. Without you, since the beginning, I’d be so lost. I love you so damned much. I love your hair, your smile, your teeth. Everything about you just sends me into a tizzy. I have honestly never loved anyone this much.”

She’s crying now, she knows, but she can’t help herself. She has never felt so loved before, not like this. Not so importantly, so intimately. This love is raw, and still so very, very new.

Finally able to find her voice (he’s stopped moving. He’s just watching her now, gaze unwavering), she slides her hand into his hair, tugging his face closer to hers and simply says, “I love you, too. You mean the world to me.”

It seems to be enough for him, and oh. His lips slam against hers hastily, just as his hips slam forward the rest of the way. It stings, just a bit, from the lack of movement, but the feeling is quickly amended with the sharp slash of undiluted pleasure that courses through her abdomen. He’s breathing harshly through his nose, thumbs and breath touching her face, everywhere. She clings to him, arms tightening around his neck, fingers gripping his hair tightly, as they begin to rock against each other.

The level of emotion in this moment brings fresh tears to her eyes. They have the chance to fully explore their newfound relationship with each other, right here, in this moment. Everything seems heightened -- the way his thickness slides in and out without a hitch, the way his chest brushes across her hardened nipples -- and she’s gasping, moaning into his mouth.

She turns her face to breathe, because she can’t. Oh, she can’t. This is all so much. The feel of it, the rush of it. The emotion behind it. She begins to lose herself, skin tightening, toes tingling. A chant of love on her lips.

And she loves him, so much. The road to this moment couldn’t have been rockier, but it was worth it. Those six months were worth this.

He’s all around her, physically and emotionally. This man is everything she could ever need, and more.

His face is buried in her neck, lips moving in a rushed movement as he claims his love for her over and over. Their words mingle and she can no longer tell who is saying what, because it is all the same. It is all them and intertwining and thrusting and so very bright.

The brightness begins to blind her and her thighs tighten around his hips. The air around them thickens, and somewhere in the back of her mind she knows she has to be quiet, because her daughter is sleeping in another room, so she tugs his face back to hers and allows him to swallow her shout as her body breaks. And he is right there with her.

“I love you,” she gasps when their lips part and their bodies still. Her eyes feel so much heavier than they did before, and so wet. He’s looking down at her with love-filled eyes and his hands can’t pick a spot to stay still. He’s touching her all over and she’s twitching, over-sensitized and utterly spent.

“I love you, too,” he murmurs, rolling them over. She curls into his side, head resting comfortably on his chest. The cool air soothes her sweat-covered back and she shivers, content.

They fall asleep together, just like that, not waking until Salome knocks on the door around noon, demanding company and lunch.

Chapter End Notes

Thank you all so much for your comments! We love you muchly. In this chapter, I wrote the first two sections and Britney wrote the last one. Chapter title from Cage the Elephant's Right Before My Eyes. Also, thanks to Charina for being our beta again!

They will see us waving Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes

On Monday, when it’s time to go back to the set for filming, Alex can’t help but be a little nervous after a weekend of hiding. She leaves Salome at the townhouse with a babysitter instead of taking her out in the media frenzy, and when she pulls into the parking lot of the studio, the butterflies in her stomach begin to flutter madly. Taking a deep breath, she pulls the keys from the ignition and opens the car door, only to hit Matt in the side with it.

She yelps at the sight of him, bringing a hand to her mouth and starting back in her seat.

“Ow.” Matt touches his hip with a grimace and peers at her over her open car door.

“Oh my god,” Alex breathes, slumping in her seat. “You scared me to death! What are you doing out here?”

“Waiting for you,” he says, frowning at her and stepping back to let her open the door and get out. “You didn’t think I’d be going in there on my own, did you?”

She rolls her eyes. “Of course not.”

Still gingerly prodding at his hipbone, Matt gives her a wounded look. “You should really be more careful about opening doors. I’m starting to think you have it out for me.”

Shutting her door, Alex tosses her keys into her bag and smiles up at him. “Always.” Pushing his hand out of the way, she rests her palm against his hip and asks, “Want me to kiss it better?”

He glares at her. “Don’t start. Steven says we have to be good today so don’t get me all…excited. Can’t exactly drag you off to a closet anymore.”

Alex pouts, leaning into him with searching hands.

Wiggling out of her grasp with obvious reluctance, he shakes a finger at her. “Best behavior,

Kingston. We’re being watched now, you know.”

Suddenly remembering what’s waiting for them inside, Alex sobers quickly. “Yes, I remember,” she sighs, casting a wary glance in the direction of the studio.

Matt softens at the look on her face, reaching out for her hand and pulling her close. “Hey,” he says quietly, waiting for her to meet his eyes. After a moment of hesitation, she does. “It’s going to be fine. You know that, right?”

She shakes her head, slipping her hand up his chest to grip the collar of his leather jacket. “Cheating is never okay, Matt. And now everyone knows I’m the woman you left your fiancée at the altar for. We’re not exactly going to get pats on the back and congratulations.”

“I’m the one who did the cheating,” Matt points out gruffly, tightening his grip around her waist. “If people want to be angry with someone, they should be angry with me. I’m the screw-up here.”

Pressing her face into his jacket, Alex shudders. “I wish we’d done things differently.”

“I know,” he murmurs into her hair. “But we didn’t, and I won’t be sorry for saving Daisy and I from a lifetime of misery together. And I certainly won’t be sorry for being with you.”

Alex feels his lips pressing into her hair in a kiss and she closes her eyes, letting herself have this moment before they walk into the studio and deal with scrutinizing eyes on them. Most of these people have been like family, and she just has to hope that they still feel that way, even now.

“Alright,” she breathes out. “I’m ready.”

--

When Matt leads Alex into the studio, her grip on his hand is nearing painful, but he doesn’t pull away. He’s nervous too, but he knows that ultimately, she isn’t the one who’s going to be facing the scrutiny here, and that eases the knot in his stomach a little. They can say whatever they want to him, look at him however they want, but not Alex.

The moment they walk through the doors, it’s like someone has died. Before they begin filming in

the morning, the set is usually filled with boisterous laughter, shouting and the occasional blast of the White Stripes. People are always talking, teasing one another and if Karen has anything to say about it, there’s usually really terrible dancing going on somewhere. Now, however, quiet descends. It’s not so quiet that one could hear a pin drop, but the atmosphere is noticeably different. There is no laughter, no music, or general atmosphere of cheerfulness.

Everyone does a fantastic job of pretending to go about their business but Matt can feel them watching out of the corner of their eyes. Alex’s grip on his hand is progressively tightening until his knuckles are sore and aching, but he only increases his hold on her fingers and pulls her along. He doesn’t glance at her face because he already knows she’s pale and pursing her lips just from the way her hand trembles ever so slightly in his.

Matt nods to people he likes especially well as they pass, offering weak smiles and hoping that everyone here is grown up enough not to open their stupid mouths. No one does.

The first person they encounter who is willing to meet their eyes is Karen, who beams the moment she sees them from across the set shouts, “It’s my daughter and her boyfriend!”

Matt feels the change in the air instantly – someone has finally acknowledged what has transpired over the weekend and everyone seems to simultaneously breathe a sigh of relief. Next to him, he feels Alex relax her rigid posture, no longer standing like she’s preparing for scornful words.

Karen scurries over to them and throws her arms around Alex, forcing her to release her deathgrip on Matt’s hand to hug her back. Flexing his fingers gratefully, Matt watches them with a mixture of amusement and gratitude. Over Alex’s shoulder, Karen winks at him.

That absolute bint.

Matt wants to laugh. What better way to dissolve the tension than a familial hug right in front of everyone? He has to hand it to her; Kaz certainly isn’t as dense as he so often tells her she is.

As soon as Karen releases Alex, she’s pulling him into a hug and whispering in his ear, “Don’t worry, stupid face. Everything’s fine.”

Wrapping his arms around her waist and watching Arthur come up to Alex and wrap an arm around her shoulders, Matt presses a kiss to Karen’s temple. “Thanks, Kazza.”

Pulling back to smile at him, Karen asks, “Grateful enough to make the coffee?”

Matt snorts. “Hardly.”

Punching him in the arm, Karen mutters, “Jerk.” She reaches out to pull Arthur away from Alex, her face the picture of excitement. “Let’s show them that dance we made up earlier.”

Arthur shakes his head, backing away and pulling Alex with him, much to her amusement. “I don’t know what dance you’re referring to, crazy person. Please back away and leave my friend and I alone.”

Karen pouts. “Come on! Don’t make me do it by myself!”

“Who says you have to do it at all?” Arthur asks, stopping now that he’s a good distance away from her and still clinging to Alex like she might somehow be able to save him. “Just spare us the embarrassment of having to watch you.”

Turning to Matt, Karen bites her lip. “C’mon, Matt. If I teach you, will you dance with me? Please?”

There is no denying Karen is rather brilliant at distracting everyone, and Matt knows she’s doing it for him and Alex – if everyone is too busy paying attention to her being ridiculous, then no one is going to be looking at the scandalous couple that made the front page over the weekend. He can’t say no.

Sighing, Matt nods. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”

Clapping her hands together gleefully, Karen takes him by the arm and pulls him into the center of the room. Sitting down next to Arthur far away from them, Alex gives him a genuine smile – totally free of anxiety. It makes the fact that he’s about to look like a total moron completely worth it.

In a few short minutes, Karen has Arthur up as well and they’re all thrashing about to Tommy Sparks, cheeks flushed and breathless grins on their faces. Watching them from her chair and doubled over with laughter, Alex calls out encouragement to them whenever she can manage to catch her breath. Around them, the various crewmembers are either chuckling or singing along as

they go about their work, and Matt feels the tightness in his chest ease.

He and Alex are buying Karen dinner. Lots of dinners. And as much coffee as her daft, brilliant heart desires.

The song comes to an end and Matt collapses against his friends as they erupt into breathless laughter. Groaning as he makes his way back to his seat next to Alex, Arthur asks, “Why do I let you two talk me into this rubbish?”

“Because you don’t think it’s rubbish,” Karen says. “You think it’s fun, but you’re just too ashamed to admit it.”

“As I should be,” Arthur agrees, slouching in his chair.

Matt is just about to make his way over to Alex when a cameraman he frequently sees her talking to around set strolls by. “Ms. Kingston,” he nods with a smile, and Alex waves at him enthusiastically. At this encouragement, he stops walking and ambles over to stand by her chair. Gesturing to Matt with one hand, he uses the other to lean against the arm of her chair and asks just loud enough for Matt to hear, “So does this mean I can’t wink at you during takes anymore?”

Alex bursts into delighted laughter, and even as Matt bristles a bit at the thought of anyone winking at her but him, he can’t help but feel grateful to anyone who makes her laugh when just fifteen minutes ago she hadn’t wanted to let go of his hand.

He doesn’t hear Alex’s response because he’s too busy staring at the way her smile lights up her whole face but when the cameraman strides away whistling, Matt can guess what her reply had been. He comes up to her and takes her hand, forcing her out of her seat before taking it for himself and pulling her down into his lap. It’s the most delightful thing he’s ever done in his life, holding her in front of all these people. No one even looks at them. It’s as if it’s the most normal thing in the world, having Alex Kingston in his lap.

No more hiding, not ever.

While Karen and Arthur argue over the song selection on the iPod they’re sharing, Matt speaks softly into Alex’s ear, “I hope you told him to keep the flirting to a minimum and never in front of me.”

Alex chuckles warmly, leaning back into his chest. “I might have told him to meet me at my car after work for a quick snog. Hope you don’t mind.”

Matt pinches her side and she squirms away with a surprised yelp. “Not funny, Kingston.”

Turning in his arms, she meets his eyes with a brilliant smile. “You know you’re the only one who can wink at me and get a kiss, honey.”

“I’d better be,” he growls playfully, and can’t help but smile when Alex presses a soft kiss to his mouth.

“What’s this?” A loud Scottish voice from across the set sends them jumping apart. “Art imitating life or life imitating art?” Steven laughs loudly at his own joke, and Matt sticks his tongue out at him like the mature adult he is. It’s too early in the morning for Steven Moffat being clever.

Beth tells Steven to “leave the lovebirds in peace” and someone from costuming backs her up. Steven ends up throwing his hands in the air and bowing out of the room like some sort of apologetic subject of the court. Someone calls out a few lines from Ding-Dong the Witch is Dead, sending the entire set into peals of laughter. Steven comes back into the room to throw a battered script at them all and then exits again in a good-humored huff.

And just like that, everything is fine.

The day goes on as a day on set normally does. Everyone talks and laughs between takes as usual, but this time, Matt and Alex don’t have to sneak off somewhere to be by themselves. There’s no need. Matt can hold her hand in front of the whole crew. He can pull her close and wrap his arms around her from behind while he talks to Arthur about that match on the telly last night. He can kiss her when she wrinkles her nose up after buggering up one of her lines, with the crew ‘awwing’ good-naturedly in the background.

He isn’t sure why, but Matt had expected worse than this. He had expected glares, whispering, or at least gaping. He should have known better – they have always been a family on set. Why should today be any different? Truly going out in public together in London might be a different story entirely, but enclosed in this unassuming studio Matt and Alex are safe.

It’s their first day together out of hiding, and it’s smashing.

Chapter End Notes

Thanks for comments and reviews! Friday wrote the entirety of this chapter so blame her if you choke on the fluff. Chapter title comes from the Iron & Wine song Such Great Heights.

I love the way you make it sound Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes

For the most part, the reactions from the public have been surprisingly tame – everyone was shocked at first, but what public doesn’t love a good scandal? On the whole, Doctor Who fans are wonderful people and very supportive. It isn’t unusual for a fan to hug Matt while he’s out and about, saying they’re happy for him and Alex is lovely. But occasionally, someone will say something nasty.

Most of the time, Matt laughs them off and goes on his way, forgetting all about it when he goes home and kisses Alex. Today, however, when Matt and Alex are strolling hand-in-hand down a busy street in London, peering into shop windows and hoping to find something really special for Salome, that changes.

“Look at that,” Matt cups his hands around his face and peers into the shop window, smiling. “See it? Far right corner. The brown one.”

Alex leans in close and Matt wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her into his side as she joins him in staring. “You can’t be serious.”

“What? It’s cute!”

“This is supposed to be a small gift from the both of us for putting up with all the press lately – it’s not her birthday. We are not buying Salome a puppy!”

“Why not?” Matt asks, and he’s entirely aware that he’s sounding rather whiney, but honestly, how can she say no to that face? It’s pudgy and wrinkled and adorable!

“Because you’ll both be fascinated for about a day and then you’ll move on to something else like knitting or building ships in bottles and I’ll be the one taking it out when it needs to wee and cleaning up its messes. It will end up being my dog and I don’t want a dog, Matt!”

Matt frowns her at her. “Your level of confidence in my attention span is astounding. I’m not a three year old, you know.”

“No,” Alex smiles, leaning up to kiss his chin. “Your attention span is much shorter than a three year old’s. It’s more like a gold fish.”

“And yet I could stare at you for hours,” he says, waiting for her to laugh and call him cheesy.

She doesn’t.

Her nose wrinkles up in that adorable way Matt loves so much, and her green eyes shine. She smiles up at him like they’re completely alone and not on a very public street. Matt wants to spend the rest of his life putting that look of pure happiness on her face. He’s just about to lean in and kiss her soundly right in the middle of the sidewalk when someone bumps into them, knocking them into each other quite roughly.

“Oi!” He shouts even as he steadies Alex with one arm, turning to find a woman in what looks to be her late twenties glaring at them. “Watch where you’re going, eh?”

“You’re sick,” the woman says, but she isn’t looking at Matt. She’s looking right past him, to Alex, whose grip on Matt’s hand is vice-like. “Couldn’t find someone your own age who wanted you?”

Matt stiffens, pulling Alex behind him as onlookers begin to stop and gawk at the disruption in the middle of the sidewalk. “Who the hell do you think -- ”

“Matt, no,” Alex tightens her grip on his hand, and he hadn’t realized he’d taken a menacing step forward until she tugs him back.

He turns to glance at her and he can’t help but notice that the charming sparkle in her green eyes is gone and her smile has vanished, no longer crinkling her nose the way he loves. In that moment, he just wants to wrap his arms around her and shield her from every bad thing in the world, from every horrible comment, every bad day. He never wants to see that look on her face ever again and he wants to hurt anyone who tries to put it there.

“He can do a lot better than you. At least Daisy wasn’t old enough to be his mother,” the woman says, and Matt turns to look at her again. His face must have been something awful to behold because she takes a large step back, looking a little less sure of herself. She begins to walk away, taking small steps backward and still glowering at Alex. “Slag.” With that, she turns and fights her way through the crowd, moving quickly.

“Oh, I don’t think so,” Matt mutters, moving forward. “Sodding bitch, just wait till I catch up with you.” Matt tries to shake off Alex’s hand but she won’t be budged and he ends up stalking angrily in the direction the woman had gone, dragging Alex with him.

She barely manages to keep up with his large strides, sprinting a bit even as she tries to pull on his arm. “Matt, stop it.”

He ignores her, narrowed eyes scanning the streets for the woman’s bright red shirt. He isn’t sure what he’s going to do. Follow her home to get her address and then plan some sort of vengeful thing – he isn’t clear on what that thing might be just yet. Something involving letting monkeys loose in her apartment, maybe. And a loud construction crew outside her window every morning at five. He’ll get Arthur and his band to play terrible 80’s ballads outside her door at all hours of the night. And other even more horrible things he hasn’t had time to think of yet because he’s never been so furious in his entire life. He’s so angry he can’t even think properly. He doesn’t want to think. He just wants to hurt someone – he wants that woman to be a man so he can sock him in the jaw.

Alex finally manages to pull them to a stop, tugging obstinately at Matt’s hand with one of hers and using the other to cling to a lamppost, keeping them from moving any further. “Matt, listen to me,” she says, and she sounds shaken but calm. “Stop it. It’s fine.”

The tone of her voice manages to cut through the fog of anger clouding his mind, and he swivels on his heel to look at her, incredulous. “No, it’s not bloody well fine,” he says tersely, jaw tight. “No one can speak to you like that. Ever.”

Eyes softening, Alex releases her grip on the lamppost and takes a step toward him. “Do you really think this is the first time someone has said something to me about us?”

Matt frowns, looking away. “I try not to think about it.”

Reaching for his other hand, she lifts them both to her lips and kisses his knuckles softly, eyes on his. Instantly, he feels the burning rage ebb…just a little. It’s hard to stay angry when she’s looking at him like that. “You think I care what they think?”

His breathing is starting to even out and his mind becomes a little clearer now that he isn’t huffing angrily through his nose and stalking the streets like some sort of vengeful god. He almost feels like a rational person again. “You used to care.”

Alex squares her shoulders, still holding his hands gently in hers. “Not anymore.” She sweeps a thumb across his knuckles in a light caress that makes his eyes flutter and his mouth twitch. “We’ve been through hell to get where we are now.”

Matt nods, gently pulling his hands from hers and placing them on her hips, tugging her into him. He rests his forehead against hers and studies the gold flecks in her green eyes up close.

Sighing, warm breath ghosting over his face, Alex looks right back at him, voice soft. “I love you. So bloody much. I won’t let them make me feel bad for that. I won’t let them make me regret being happy.”

Hearing her say she loves him will never, ever get old. Twenty years from now, those words from her lips will still make his heart turn over in his chest. Drawing her ever closer, Matt hugs her tightly, resting his chin atop her head and just holding her. Alex holds him right back, arms wrapped around his middle and face buried in his shirt collar.

“We are happy, aren’t we?” He asks quietly, and he feels Alex smile into his neck.

“Blissful, love.”

For another long moment, they stand there under the light of the lamppost in silence, holding one another tightly as people pass them by and cars honk in the street. It all fades away, background noise in comparison to her breath in his ear and her hair tickling his throat. Nothing else matters.

“Alex?” Matt asks after a minute, breaking the tender silence.

“Mmm?”

“I really want that puppy.”

Alex snorts into his shirt, and when she pulls away to smile up at him, Matt grins. There’s that face he loves so dearly. He knows she won’t always be so happy – this isn’t a storybook and sometimes there are bad days, even after the happy ending. But he’ll try his damnedest to make sure her good days will outweigh her bad ones.

“At least come back and look at it,” he says, offering her his best and most charming smile. “I dare you to hold the puppy and still say no.”

Alex crosses her arms and looks at him pointedly. “I’m quite capable of saying no to even the cutest of faces.”

Matt lets his smile drop, knowing she’s onto him. “Fine, but I really think if you hold it, you’ll be a much more easy-going person. Maybe that’s what’s missing from your life.” He regards her piteously. “My God, Kingston. You’ve never cuddled a puppy before, have you?”

She whacks him on the arm, smiling, even though Matt can tell by the way her mouth twitches that she doesn’t really want to be so amused by him. Alex takes his hand, pulling him along back to the pet store. “You can hold it for a minute, and then we’re leaving. Without a puppy.”

“Kingston, how can you be so cold? Puppies are the very meaning of life!”

As they stroll back toward the pet store, their quiet, gentle bickering continues until the sound of their voices fades into the noise and fog of the London night air.

XxX

Matt stacks the dishes after dinner, listening as Alex tries to convince her daughter to take a shower from down the hall. Salome claims that it’s too early for bedtime, shouting about how she’s not even tired. He can’t say he has ever witnessed a dispute between the two, but they are far more vocal than he imagined. He tries to stay out of it, considering he’s not Salome’s father in any way, and continues his trek towards the sink. The noise the water creates doesn’t cover the bickering and he sighs, running a damp hand through his hair and turning to face the archway that leads to the living room.

“Stay right there, young lady!” Alex shouts, sounding closer than before. He sees her pop her head into the kitchen, frustration clearly outlining her face. He senses a hint of desperation in her look, and she seems hesitant. “I wish I didn’t have to do this, but she won’t listen to me. Do you think you could help?”

Flashing her a quick smirk, he motions to the dishes with a flick of his wrist and raises a brow. “You do the dishes, I’ll convince the kid to take a shower.”

She laughs, entering the kitchen fully. They meet in the middle, sharing a small kiss that quickly turns into another and another, before she’s pushing him away. “Right then. Go deal with my difficult child while I deal with this mess of a kitchen.”

Smiling as he moves past her, he gives her bum a quick smack and ignores the indignant sound of protest she shoots his way. When he makes it to the hallway, he sees Salome burst out of the loo and into her bedroom, shutting the door before he has the chance to say anything. Sighing, he taps lightly on the door, calling out her name.

“I don’t want to go to bed,” Salome shouts.

“How does a shower immediately constitute going to bed?” Matt asks, voice soft. He knows Salome will have to go to bed after her bath, but he does have a few secrets of his own. “You see, what you do is spend a long time in the shower. Spend more time washing up, and by the time you’re out, the thought of going to bed won’t seem like such a bad thing.”

The voice on the other side of the door is silent for a while, and Matt wonders if she’s even listening to what he has to say. He doesn’t have much experience when it comes to children. None at all, to be honest. He knows how to make them laugh and how to play games with them, but when it comes to disciplining and stuff like that, he‘s got nothing. He’s never really been around children long enough to have to deal with it.

He isn’t questioning himself for much longer when Salome opens the door slowly, towel wrapped around her arm. She’s looking at him curiously, and he can see a dirt smudge across her cheek and understands why Alex was being so adamant about a shower right now.

Salome is filthy.

“That’s it? Really? You just gotta stay in there longer?” She asks, stepping out of the room. She glances down the hall, as if expecting her mother to come around the corner any minute and start shouting at her again. She glances back at him with a scrutinizing gaze, and he straightens his posture.

“Of course. That’s what I used to do as a kid. Especially with hot baths. You know, it’s always harder to get out of the shower when the water is nice and warm.”

Salome smiles, stepping around him with careful, quiet steps. He notices what she’s doing, immediately, and has to contain a loud laugh at her antics. She doesn’t want Alex to know she’s giving in; she’s sneaking about the hallway, because she doesn’t want her mother to know.

Life is brilliant.

As Salome enters the loo and flicks the switch, Matt sends her a smile and moves to head back to the kitchen. He doesn’t get far before the young girl says, “If you lied to me, I’m going to be very cross,” and then shuts the door.

He stares wide-eyed at the occupied loo, skin crawling with how much Alex he heard in Salome’s voice in that moment. Like mother, like daughter, he supposes. He’s still a little frightened when he’s back in the kitchen, but Alex is swaying her arse and humming I Wanna Be Sedated by the Ramones while washing dishes. If anything can distract him from a possible impending doom, it’s that.

“I can’t control my fingers, I can’t control my brain,” Matt sings, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her neck. She jumps a bit in his embrace, only to begin giggling and squirming around.

“Don’t scare me like that,” she chides, turning her face to kiss his mouth softly. “Did you get her to take a shower already?”

He shrugs, nuzzling her nose with his before pulling away to allow her to continue her chore. “It wasn’t that difficult. I just told her to make the shower last longer. Prolong the time before bed.”

“Of course you did,” Alex laughs, rinsing the last of the dishes before laying them out on the towel. Matt watches as she grabs a couple paper towels to dry her hands before leaning against the counter to look at him again. “You’re great with her, you know. I didn’t think it was possible that you could be so great.”

He bites his lip, honestly touched by the compliment. “I do my best.”

Alex awards his modesty with an eye roll, staring at him with unadulterated affection in her eyes. He feels his knees go weak and wonders at how, after having so much time to reacquaint himself with her, she still causes him to go all schoolboy for her. There is never a moment where he doesn’t just flail for a moment, flabbergasted with the knowledge that she did, indeed, want him; that she chose him.

It’s all just so much.

“There’s something I wanted to talk to you about,” she says. She pushes away from the counter to grab his hand and lead him to the living room. Once they’re seated on the couch, hands still entwined, she smiles at him with a bit of hesitancy. “I was thinking about moving back to England.”

“Are you serious?” Matt exclaims, hoping he sounded a bit less hopeful than he probably did. Just the thought of having her and Salome here, all the time, is enough to cause him to get a bit excited.

“Well, I seem to have a better chance at getting work here, and the schools are very nice. But Salome’s father is back in America, so we’d have to figure out what to do about that. I mean, we already have a place here, so the transition wouldn’t be too stressful--”

“Wait,” Matt interrupts, tightening his hand around hers. “Why don’t you two move in with me?”

The look Alex is giving him causes Matt to pause for a moment. She’s staring at him with that ‘deer-caught-in-headlights’ look, as if she cannot honestly believe he just suggested that.

“Just hear me out, okay? My house has far more space than this place does, and with us being in a relationship, there will be a lot of going back and forth between us and Salome is going to have enough of that when it comes to seeing her dad. And I love you two. I mean, why shouldn’t we move in together? And don’t think I’m trying to push you into anything. I completely understand if you don’t want to move that quickly.”

Matt knows he’s rambling at this point, but it’s all he can do to make sure Alex understands where he’s coming from. All he wants is to be close to the ladies he loves, all the time. Having them in the same home as him? Simply a plus. Much more manageable as well. And why isn’t Alex saying anything? She should be saying something. He bites his lip, taking in her expression, which is contemplative. At least she’s thinking about it and not completely running away from the idea. He doesn’t think he’d be able to handle a complete freak out. Not after the last one.

He should really pay attention to his words.

“Matt? Are you listening to me?” Alex asks, voice finally filtering through his mile-a-minute mind.

Blinking, Matt finally realizes that she’s been talking and he has no idea what she said.

“Um, no,” he says honestly. When she laughs, the uneasiness in his stomach loosens and he smirks a bit.

“I said, if you had been paying attention, that I would love to move in with you.”

Without warning, Matt attacks her with kisses, far too happy for words. She giggles under his onslaught, especially when his fingers trace the sides of her stomach in a light caress. She said yes to moving in with him.

She bloody said yes.

“I love you,” he murmurs against her lips, ceasing his attack to come up and hold her face with his hands. She smiles, arms coming to wrap around his back and tug him on top of her.

“I love you, too, you great useless thing.”

“Not so useless,” he growls, kissing her again.

“Come on, really?” Salome cries, standing in her pajamas in the hallway. Matt scrambles off Alex as quickly as possible, almost falling off the couch in the process, before turning to look at the small intruder, who was currently rubbing at her eyes, an obvious sign of sleepiness.

Success.

“Sorry, poppet. Your mum and I were just having a celebratory kiss.”

“’Romp’ is more like it,” Salome mumbles.

“Salome! Where did you learn that word?” Alex exclaims, eyes wide and coming to a stand.

Salome deadpans, looking much like her mother when she says, “You.”

To say the least, Alex is very sheepish as she lets out a small, “Oh,” and sits back down in her seat.

“Why were you celebrating, anyway?”

Matt looks to Alex, silently asking if he can tell Salome the news. Alex nods with a small smile, moving to hold his hand again.

“Poppet, you and your mum are going to be moving in with me at my place,” he says slowly, studying the young girl’s face. She doesn’t say anything at first, merely looking between him and Alex, before she’s rushing toward them with a smile on her face.

“Yay! Can we paint my room? Do I get my own bathroom?” She asks quickly, switching between hugging her mum and tugging on Matt’s sleeve.

“Slow down, sweetheart,” Alex laughs, kissing the top of her daughter’s head. “One step at a time.”

Salome stares at Matt, biting her lip with a very serious look on her face. Afraid for reasons unknown, he begins to nod and pats her back reassuringly. “We can paint your room any color you want.”

Alex rolls her eyes good-naturedly, seemingly understanding Matt’s irrational fear of her daughter.

XxX

An hour later, and under the request of Salome, Matt is tucking her in for bed while Alex takes a much needed, relaxing bath (after shouting about no hot water and sulking for a half hour). He pulls back Salome’s sheets for her, smiling when she immediately curls up on her side, facing him.

He places a kiss to her forehead, whispering goodnight. He begins to back out of the room, switching off the light.

“Matty?” Salome speaks up, watching him from her position on the bed.

“Yes, princess?”

“Thank you for the advice on the shower thing,” she yawns, pushing brown curls from her forehead before letting her arm plop down in front of her.

“You’re welcome, poppet,” he smiles, moving to shut the door.

“And Matty?”

Desperately wanting to go join Alex in the shower, Matt huffs silently, but pokes his head back into the room.

“Yes?”

“I love you,” she says, accompanied by another yawn.

All traces of semi-irritation gone, Matt smiles at the now-sleeping child and whispers, “I love you, too, sweetheart.”

Chapter End Notes

Thanks for commenting! I wrote the first part and Britney wrote the other two. Chapter title from Blue October's Calling You.

Hold me just a little bit longer Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes

They’ve been packing up boxes all morning, wrapping some things very carefully in newspaper and just tossing in others, taping them up and stacking them by the door. When lunchtime rolls around, they’re both tired and starving.

Alex looks up at him from the middle of her bedroom floor, clothes, books and papers strewn all around her, and bites her lip hopefully. “If I call for Chinese, will you go and pick it up? It’s just down the street.”

Matt sighs, glancing down at his ratty t-shirt and paint-splattered jeans – which were entirely Salome’s fault. “Fine.” He tosses the packing tape onto the bed and reaches into his pocket. “I’ve only got five, though.”

“My handbag is on the counter in the kitchen,” she says; already back to sorting through papers. “There should be a twenty in there somewhere.”

Matt salutes mockingly, even though she isn’t looking, and goes off to hunt for money. The Chinese restaurant isn’t actually ‘just down the street’ unless you count two blocks away as being so. Matt takes Alex’s car and waits in line for nearly twenty minutes before he’s carrying out their food in a big plastic bag – with extra egg rolls in case Salome wants some when she gets home from school.

He smiles as he turns onto Alex’s street again. It’s Salome’s last day in school here before she and Alex move back to London – permanently. Alex had been afraid Salome would be upset about leaving, but the girl has been so excited about living with ‘Matty’ and going to school with Steven’s boys that she hasn’t even minded leaving Los Angeles behind.

Matt had tried to tell Alex that she didn’t have to leave, that he would move after Doctor Who was over, or commute or do whatever he needed to do in order to make things work, but Alex had been insistent. Work was more abundant in England, anyway, she’d said. So they were packing up what would fit in boxes and shipping them to London.

Matt has never been so thrilled in his life – his girls under the same roof with him every day and every night, like a real family.

They are his family now.

When he pulls in the driveway, there’s an unfamiliar car parked in front of the house, but he doesn’t think much of it. Alex’s friends have been dropping by all morning to say a last goodbye before she moves, all of them lamenting how much they’re going to miss her on karaoke nights. It isn’t until he steps inside the house and has placed the food on the kitchen counter that he realizes it isn’t a friend parked outside.

Voices raised in anger are coming from down the hall, where Alex’s bedroom is. Matt frowns, walking quietly to the doorway of the kitchen and pausing to listen carefully.

“Seriously, what is this, Alex? Are you trying to feel young again? Because this is getting ridiculous. If this is some kind of mid-life crisis, couldn’t you just buy a damn convertible or spend too much on a pair of shoes?”

Alex’s voice reaches him, strained and irritated, and Matt has to stop himself from going to her. “Matt is not the result of a mid-life crisis, Florian.”

Ah, the ex-husband.

“It’s fine if you can’t accept that I love him but --”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Alex! He’s a child! What could you possibly have in common?”

“He is not a child! He’s a grown man who loves me and our daughter, and treats me with more respect than you ever did.”

Matt smiles, leaning his head against the wall and feeling pride well up in him. Oh, when Florian leaves, he is going to snog the living daylights out of her.

Their voices are suddenly too low to hear but if Matt listens closely, he can make out the sound of their quiet arguing. Florian says something with a harsh growl and then there’s nothing. Whatever he said, it hadn’t been good. The shocked silence emanating from the bedroom is palpable.

When Alex responds, her voice is louder than before and she sounds like she’s on the verge of

tears. Matt fights every single instinct screaming at him to march down the hallway and shove Florian’s head against the wall until it’s nothing but a red stain on the light blue paint. “I am not with him because of that. I even pushed him away because I wanted him to have what I couldn’t give him.”

Matt shuts his eyes and grimaces. The memory of those long six months still stings, and he has no desire to relive it. Not when reality is so much better now.

“Well that certainly didn’t last long,” Florian points out gruffly. “And now you’re taking my daughter halfway across the world -- ”

“She’s my daughter too, you know! And we’ve talked about this! I told you that you could visit her whenever you like! She’s even staying with you for part of the summer. You talk on Skype every night when she’s away – it’s not like I’m trying to keep her away from you, Florian!”

“What the hell am I supposed to think, Alex? You’re ripping her out of a school with friends she loves and dragging her off to live in London because you’ve found a pretty young boy toy you want to have in your bed!”

“Stop it,” Alex says, voice tight. “You know I love Matt. And if you ever paid any attention to your daughter --”

“You think I don’t pay attention to my daughter?”

“I know you don’t, because if you did then you’d know she’s so excited to move she can barely talk of anything else!”

A loud crash from the bedroom is immediately followed by Florian’s angry snarl, “Don’t you dare try and tell me I don’t love my daughter. I’m not the one putting her through a media firestorm for the sake of an affair that’ll be over in a month when he finds someone younger!”

That’s enough. Matt can’t make himself stand there and do nothing any longer. Stalking down the corridor with red in his vision and his blood like fire in his veins, Matt slams the door to the bedroom open, relishing the way Florian flinches when it crashes loudly against the wall.

On the floor are the shards of the flower pot Florian must have knocked over in his anger, and bits of pottery and clods of dirt are scattered all over Alex’s books and clothes still littering the floor.

of pottery and clods of dirt are scattered all over Alex’s books and clothes still littering the floor. Florian looks at him like Matt has no right to be in the same house, let alone the same room but Alex has been crying and Matt has never wanted to hurt someone as much as he wants to hurt Florian then.

Jaw clenched and hands balled into fists at his sides, Matt grits out, “Raise your voice at her like that one more time and I’ll hit you so hard your ears will ring, mate.”

Florian stares.

Matt takes a step forward and gestures with one sharp, jerky motion toward the door. “Until you can talk to her with a bit of respect, I suggest you get the hell out.”

Like he can’t believe Matt’s audacity, Florian turns to look at Alex, but she turns away from him, wiping at her eyes. As if finally understanding that their argument might have gone too far, he deflates, nodding. “I’m sorry, Alex. I’ll-I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Alex nods, still not facing him.

Florian sighs but begins to walk toward the door without another word, offering Matt a small frown as he leaves. The front door slams behind him and the house is suddenly eerily quiet. Matt doesn’t move from the doorway, watching Alex square her shoulders and turn to face him.

“You okay?” He asks softly.

She meets his eyes and he feels himself get angry all over again when he sees how red hers are. “I’m fine, love. You didn’t need to do that.” She sighs, sniffling. “I’ve been rowing with Florian since before we were married. I can take care of myself.”

“I know that,” he says, walking further into the room and coming to stand before her. It’s one of the things he loves about her. Alex doesn’t depend on anyone but herself. But Matt wants to be someone she can rely on -- always. He cups her cheek in his hand, brushing his thumb over her skin. “Doesn’t mean you always have to, though.”

Alex wraps her arms around him, hugging him so tightly that he wonders if she knows just how angry he’d been. “You’re rather wonderful, you know.”

Matt smiles despite himself, remembering the first time she’d said those words – sick with the flu and woozy from medicine. It seems like ages ago. “Ah, and this time without the help of medication. You spoil me, Kingston.”

Laughing, Alex pulls away to smile up at him. He can still see where she’d been crying but she looks happy now, like any thoughts of her ex-husband are miles away and Matt is the reason why. Leaning up, she threads her fingers into the hair at the back of his head and yanks him down, pressing her lips to his. The kiss is hard and open-mouthed, and Matt returns it with an eagerness that frightens him. He wants to be as close to her as possible but he doesn’t think even bones on bones would be enough so he just kisses her harder instead, gripping her hips so tight that it will leave finger shaped bruises for days.

Breathless and panting, Alex pulls away from his mouth and begins to nip at his collarbone. Matt groans, pressing rough kisses into her hair, across her forehead, over her eyes, anywhere and everywhere. He could have all of her and it would never be enough.

“Alex,” he pants, remembering. “Lunch. Kitchen.”

“Full sentences, darling,” she says, biting his neck quite viciously and then soothing the mark with a stroke of her hot tongue.

He feels his legs turn to jelly and he pulls her tighter against him. “You were hungry,” he finally manages between breathless growls. “It’ll get cold.”

“Microwave,” she says, gripping his t-shirt in her fists and pushing him toward the bed. Matt falls on top of the mattress and shoves aside a box and a roll of packing tape, watching with wide eyes as Alex crawls on top of him, thighs falling open around his waist.

“Oh yes,” he says, letting his head fall back against the pillows. “Bloody love a microwave.”

Pulling Alex down to him so that they’re pressed chest to chest, he kisses her fiercely, burying his hands in her hair. She whimpers into his mouth and rolls her hips against him, making him gasp sharply against her lips. Sliding his hands up her thighs and under her thin sundress, he presses his fingers against her damp knickers. Alex tears her mouth from his to moan into his neck and shift her thighs further apart, encouraging him.

Smirking, Matt nips at her jaw and rubs his thumb lightly against her clit through the lace of her

knickers. Hips jerking forward into his touch, Alex clutches at him, hands gripping his t-shirt in tight fists as she gasps.

“Stop teasing me,” she whines and he laughs, lifting his head to claim her lips again. She melts into their kiss, sighing, and when her grip on his t-shirt slackens, Matt pushes aside her knickers and slides his fingers against her slick heat.

Alex sinks her teeth into his bottom lip and tugs, lifting her hips off his lap just enough to give him room to maneuver. Circling her entrance just for the sheer satisfaction he gets from feeling her so very wet just from his touch, Matt shifts on the bed to ease the pressure in his trousers.

The scratchy denim of his jeans brushes the inside of Alex’s thighs and she makes a soft noise of frustration, rutting against him. “Matt,” she breathes out when he allows one finger to slip inside her. She drops her head to his chest and pants while her inner muscles clench around even that small invasion. “Please. Need you.”

At her breathless words, his stomach flip-flops and he nods frantically, just as eager to be inside her as she is to be filled. At his consent, Alex sits up and undoes the button on his trousers with shaking fingers. She pulls his cock from the confines of his boxers and strokes the velvet skin, pumping her hand up and down once, then twice.

Matt bites his lip and squeezes his eyes shut, whimpering. “Oh god, Alex,” he gasps out. “Now.”

“Yes,” she hisses, and reaching beneath her dress to push aside her knickers, she sinks down on his hard length with a loud moan.

Eyes open wide now, Matt watches with an unfocused gaze as Alex wiggles her hips until he’s seated as deep inside her as he can be. Cheeks flushed and eyes bright, she no longer looks like the emotionally distraught woman who just fought with her ex-husband. In her cotton sundress and her blonde curls tumbling past her shoulders as she throws her head back, Alex looks wanton, divine, perfect and she is his. She begins to lift herself up and down over his erection, her small hands pressing into his chest for leverage. Gone are the tears in her eyes and now all he sees is the love she feels for him and the mindless pursuit of pleasure.

She fits around him like a glove – all tight, searing warmth – and he tells her so, sliding his hands up her thighs and beneath her dress as he whispers just what she does to him, how she feels around him, and just how incredible she looks. Mouth open and breath coming in gasps, Alex meets his eyes with startling intensity.

Encouraged by the blatant desire in her eyes, he keeps up a steady stream of filthy litany murmured in a low voice, while under her dress, his fingers dig into her bare skin. Matt twists his hips just so and hits just the right spot to make Alex throw her head back, keening.

She looks gorgeous – sweat-slicked and happy in his arms – but he still can’t forget the way she looked when he barged into the room earlier. The tears in her eyes and the way her voice had caught in her throat. The idea that she’s used to fighting with Florian does not ease his mind, because that means there was a time when he couldn’t be there to pick up the pieces afterward. She’d been on her own, upset and with no one to hold her. The thought is enough to make him pull her down to him, and he captures her lips in a fierce kiss, silently promising to be better than that, to make her happier than she’s ever been. She’ll never be treated with disrespect ever again. He’ll make sure of it.

Above him, Alex’s thighs begin to tremble with the effort of riding him and she clenches her inner muscles around his cock. He groans and bucks against her, his grip on her hips bruising. “Fuck,” he swears, and Alex smiles breathlessly against his mouth.

The feel of her tightening around him is too much and Matt feels his control starting to slip. Quickly, he slips one hand from her hip to her clit, finding her soaking wet. He circles his thumb around the swollen bundle of nerves and Alex shouts, so close to the edge and so very sensitive.

Swiftly, Matt sits up so that Alex straddles his lap and her chest brushes against his every time she rocks her hips. Eyes half-lidded, Alex finds his mouth with hers, kissing him hard, and it’s nothing but teeth and tongues, soft moans and grasping fingers. Sliding his hands from her hips and around to her bum, Matt digs his fingers into the soft flesh and pulls her flush against him. Alex bites her lip, gripping the hair at the back of his head as she raises herself over him.

“Come on, Alex,” he says through gritted teeth. “So bloody close. Come for me, sweetheart.”

Curls sticking to her forehead and a red flush high on her cheeks, Alex begins to constrict around him, her eyes unfocused and glazed over as she loses herself in the fast-approaching wave of pleasure.

Unable to hold off his own orgasm any longer, Matt grips her arse in one hand and uses the other to press his thumb hard against her clit just as he spills inside her with her name like a shouted prayer on his lips. Alex crumples with scream, lovely and glorious as her cunt tightens around his length, pulling the last of his release from him as she collapses into his heaving chest, her head on his shoulder.

Utterly sated and drowsy, Matt wraps his arms around her and lowers them both back onto the

mattress, reclining amongst the pillows. Splayed across his chest and panting, Alex grins into his skin and presses tiny, weak kisses against his collarbone. Matt presses his lips to the top of her head. “I love you,” he says, because he can never make love to her and not say it. This time, they’d been a little too frantic for sentiment, but that doesn’t mean he can’t still say it afterward.

Alex presses a soft kiss to the spot just below his ear. “I love you too.”

After that, they lie together in silence for a while, calming their racing hearts and waiting for that blissful afterglow to fade. For Matt, he finds that it doesn’t ever really go away. Being with Alex is like one permanent afterglow. He would tell her so if he didn’t think she’d laugh and call him cheesy. He’s still working on making her believe him when he says things like that – she’s not used to a man being an utter sap just because he is one and not because he wants something. Yet another misconception he plans to rid her of.

Once she regains her breath, Alex observes with amusement, “We didn’t even get undressed.”

Frowning, Matt glances down at their intertwined bodies. Alex is still in her sundress and her now ruined knickers and he’s still wearing jeans and a t-shirt. He hadn’t even taken off his shoes. Feeling like a randy teenager and surprised by how little he cares, Matt begins to laugh, the sound cheerful and carefree in Alex’s sunlit bedroom. Rolling over, he pulls Alex with him and she curves her body into his easily.

“Alex Kingston,” he says with a sigh, still smiling as he presses his face into her hair. “What have you done to me?”

XxX

Later on in the day, when Salome has come home from school and the nasty memory of Florian coming by has been washed away with deliberate touches and passionate kisses, Matt escorts his two favorite ladies outside and into Alex’s vehicle. He won’t tell them where they’re going and not knowing is driving Alex mad. Matt is absolutely enjoying it, though. The frustration he causes her makes her scrunch up her nose in the most adorable manner, like when she can’t remember her lines. Salome has no qualms about not knowing, however, obviously excited for a surprise.

The car ride, though not long in length, is spent with Matt shooting down each and every one of Alex’s guesses at where they could possibly be going – including Hollywood, a museum, a store and so on. Salome laughs at her mother each time she gets shot down, and Alex grumbles something about being teamed up against.

Matt just smiles the whole time, basking in the moment. The minutes spent with Alex and Salome are the most precious of his day, no matter what is going on. Whether they’re bickering about television, or what’s for dinner, or playing tag in the backyard or simply relaxing in silence, these moments are everything.

Because he sometimes can’t help but remember his days without them – the wretched nights spent not sleeping or the days spent doing as little as possible, just to get through. Hours, minutes, seconds spent without the woman he loves, so much, or the child who means more to him than he ever thought possible.

But he’s here now; holding Alex’s hand as he navigates her car through the streets and listens to Salome list all the things she’s excited for when they move into Matty’s home. He’s here, when he never thought it possible.

And he’s doing something he never thought he could do in a million years.

Finally pulling into a small parking lot, Matt grins over at Alex with all the joy he feels, all of the silent adoration and oh-so-obvious love, and motions for her to get out of the car. She does so slowly, coming to stand by her daughter, who has already jumped out of the car before either of them, and they stare at Matt expectantly.

“A park,” Alex says. She looks around them, squinting against the harsh light of the sun, still high in the air. “Hollenbeck Park.”

“Why are we here, Matty?” Salome asks, smiling brightly and bouncing on her heels.

Matt bites his lip, spreading his arms out wide around him and spins. “We’re having a picnic!”

Salome squeals in delight, following his example and twirling around, causing the hem of her purple and white sundress to fan out around her legs. Matt stops to check Alex’s reaction, and she’s smiling at him with a faint gloss to her eyes. And that smile is so breathtaking, so beautiful that his heart twists and he realizes he’s done well.

“How about you and your mum go pick a spot for us to set up while I get the things from the trunk, eh, poppet?” Matt suggests, bending down to bop Salome’s nose once she’s become too dizzy to continue spinning.

“All right, come on mom!” The young girl shouts, quickly grabbing her mother’s hand and leading her toward the grassy areas. He watches them go, smiling back at Alex when she turns her head to blow him a kiss. Yes, these are definitely the moments he lives for.

XxX

After Salome and Alex have chosen a spot in between two very large trees offering lots of shade and talk of enrolling Salome in a school near London once they get back, Matt begins to dish out the sandwiches and snacks he’d prepared, smiling at Alex when she looks at him in surprise.

“What? A picnic without food is unheard of!” Matt defends, passing her a tuna sandwich and a Sunny D.

“How long, exactly, have you been planning this?” Alex asks suspiciously, taking the proffered items and watching as her daughter picks out her sandwich and drink.

“To be quite honest with you, since we decided I’d come to LA with you to help you pack.”

Her chuckle floats in the air around them and when their eyes meet again, hers have that same gloss he’d seen earlier. He tries not to feel the pride well up in his chest, knowing he’ll slip up and she’ll blame him for needing an “ego boost,” but he can’t help it. He’s making her happy, and that feeling is so wonderful.

“I don’t know how many times I am going to have to tell you this, but Mr. Smith, you are quite brilliant,” Alex admits, shaking her head with a smile.

Matt smirks and glances to Salome, who is watching them with interest as she digs into her turkey sandwich.

“General Salome,” he starts, with a deep, serious voice. He watches in amusement as she sits up straighter and gives him a silent nod to continue. “Permission to kiss your mum, Ma’am?”

She makes a face, but quickly tries to hide it as she begins to turn her body away from them. “Permission granted, soldier.”

At that, Alex laughs out loud, placing her sandwich down on the blanket and tugging Matt toward her by the collar of his shirt. He kisses her open mouthed, all the while grinning like a madman. She returns the kiss with a quick swipe of her tongue and a nip at his lip, before pulling away.

“What exactly have you been teaching my daughter?” She asks, rubbing her nose against his, letting him go reluctantly. Salome turns back around, smug look on her face.

She doesn’t give Matt time to explain, simply saying, “He didn’t teach me anything, Mom. It was me who taught him who’s boss.”

Matt and Alex share a look of equal befuddlement before Matt begins to laugh so hard tears spring to his eyes. He tackles Salome, tickling her sides with fervor, laughing harder when her feet try to kick him away. Alex joins him, pinning Salome’s legs down while ticking her bare feet.

After a while, Salome is in desperate need of breath and Matt and Alex have grown tired. The trio lies exhausted on the ground, staring up into the leaves of the trees and the occasional glimpse of blue sky. Matt rolls over, crawling on all fours to the basket he packed. He reaches behind it, between the basket and the trunk of one of the trees, and pulls out a brown square package.

“Poppet,” he calls out, still slightly breathless. Salome sits up; chest heaving and red face half glaring at him, half curious. “I got you a little something.”

She’s next to him in a flash, reaching for the box in his hands excitedly. She opens the package and then looks at him in confusion, obviously not understanding what it’s supposed to be and he smiles.

“It’s a kite. Like the one in your painting,” he explains. “We just need to put it together before you can use it.”

“Oh! Thank you, so much, Matty!” She cries, flinging her arms around his neck to hug him. He looks over her shoulder at Alex, who rolls her eyes. She’s smiling, too, though, so he’s obviously not in trouble.

There’s a lot of that happening today, isn’t there? A lot of smiles.

It’s a good day.

Matt helps Salome put her kite together, grinning every time she says, “Oh, I get it,” when he explains where something should go. She doesn’t do much assembling, however. More watching and nodding than anything.

In no time, she’s got the kite in the air and Alex takes her turn to show Salome how to control the string. Once she’s got the hang of it, Alex returns to where Matt sits munching on an apple on the blanket.

She leans down and places a kiss to his forehead, whispering, “Thank you.”

“For what?” He asks, grinning around his apple.

“For making today one of the best days of my life,” she beams, sitting down next to him and curling into his side. “And hers.”

“I promised you a picnic,” he says simply, kissing the top of her head. She turns her face up towards his, kissing his lips softly.

“And you waited until we were in LA, where less people know us. And you made the lunches and bought Salome a kite. You even Google’d parks in Los Angeles to figure out where to take us and how to get there.”

“Hey! How do you know I Google’d parks?” He pouts, desperately fighting the urge to bury his hands in her hair.

“How else would you know how to get here, hm?” She points out with a giggle. He sighs, rolling his eyes and pressing another kiss to her mouth.

For a while, they sit like that, watching Salome bound across the grass and play with her new, pretty purple kite. Occasionally, but not very often, someone will come up and ask for an autograph, having recognized them from one thing or another, though mostly her, for her time in ER. When Salome comes trotting back to the blanket, clearly exhausted, dragging her kite behind her, Matt suggests they leave. Both mother and daughter reject his suggestion, Salome settling for lying on the blanket and closing her eyes, humming some unknown tune. It isn’t long before she falls asleep, snoring softly with her wild hair splayed out around her head.

“She’s such a great kid,” Matt says to Alex, who is still pressed against his side. Her head is on his shoulder and he wonders at why he hasn’t gotten a response. He glances down at her face and finds that she has fallen asleep as well. Gently, he leans back against the tree, settling them into a more comfortable position. Eyes on the sky and hands in hers, Matt breathes out a thank you of his own. To Alex, to Salome, to whatever deity exists.

He’s just thankful for these beautiful moments.

Chapter End Notes

Thank you for the comments! For this chapter, I wrote the first part and Britney wrote the other two. Chapter title from She and Him's Sweet Darlin. And we're only two chapters away from the end!

Take my whole life too Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes

Matt grimaces, glancing into his closet and back to the multitude of boxes littering his bedroom. Together, he and Alex had decided on a list of new items they’d need for his home in order for them to live together.

New bed. Check.

New couch – his was worn and old and hers had been a rental. Check.

Closet space? Not quite.

“Uh, Alex, love,” Matt starts, frowning at her from his stance in front of the closet.

“Yes, dear?” Alex inquires as she prepares to open one of the impending boxes of clothes. He’s distracted for a moment by the way her gorgeous bum sways as she bends over, those black spandex shorts hugging her backside perfectly and her white tank riding up her stomach.

Coming back to himself (and mentally shouting at his betraying cock) he clears his throat and says, “I don’t think we have enough space for your clothes.”

Alex stands and turns to him with a questioning look, “What do you mean?”

He shrugs, almost imperceptibly, and motions to the closet. With a sigh, Alex comes to stand next to him, peering into the crowded closet.

“Bloody hell,” she exclaims, gaping at him with incredulous eyes. “How the hell did you make this work with Daisy?”

Helpless, Matt shrugs again, flailing his arms about him in an attempt to motion to his room. “I don’t know! She had dressers, and an armoire thingy!”

Grimacing when she glares at him for almost hitting her with his hand, he gulps down his wave of fear at his girlfriend and wishes he had thought of this sooner.

“Mr. Smith,” Alex says, slightly humorous and mostly venomous, “I do believe you’ll be making some purchases.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he squeaks.

XxX

A few hours (and a few very nice dressers and an armoire) later, Matt and Alex have moved onto unpacking her bathroom supplies. Their purchases won’t be delivered until the following morning, so they’ve pushed her clothes aside to save for later.

They work in silence, considering the last time he opened his mouth it was only to be the bearer of bad news. He wishes to keep his glares from her to a minimum today, because he rather likes it when she’s happy with him at the end of the day.

He likes that she’s here, with him, living in his home. They have already set up Salome’s room (what used to be his storage room). It’s a nice light shade of purple, with butterfly stickers adorning the walls, as well as a few of her (and their) favorite paintings. The thought of having both his girls with him is enough to make his heart turn over with happiness.

After everything they’ve gone through, together and apart, they deserve this. They deserve to be sitting here in his bathroom, playing footsie while unloading toiletries, waiting for Salome to be dropped off by the bus in a few hours and simply loving each other.

“Wait, not that box!” Alex suddenly shouts, reaching for the smaller sized box Matt was about to tear into.

Raising a brow, Matt snatches the cardboard back into his chest and asks, “Why not?”

Instead of answering, Alex begins scrambling towards him on all fours, giving him a glorious view of her braless cleavage. She takes advantage of his distraction, grabbing the box and making a run for it, though nearly tripping over his gangly leg in the process. She makes it out of the

bathroom and halfway out of the bedroom before he’s in pursuit, chasing her throughout the house, all the while asking what could be in that bloody box that she didn’t want him to see.

“It’s not that I don’t want you to see it,” she says, exasperated, as they take a break on either side of the kitchen island. “It’s that I don’t want you to see it right now.”

Rolling his eyes, Matt steps to the left. He frowns when Alex retaliates with a move to the right, the box hanging loosely from her grip. She’s trapped between him and the back of the house, and he likes to think this makes her odds just a little worse.

“Alex--”

But she’s off again, dashing to the left when he goes right, and back towards the bedroom. He’s hot on her tail, but this time, in a moment of desperation, she slams the door shut. Matt’s reaction time, however, is lacking and he runs face (nose) first into it.

“Bloody fuckin’ hell!” He cries, falling back onto his arse and holding his nose tightly. His eyes begin to water and the throbbing pain throughout his nose is unrelenting. A warm wetness fills his palm and he grunts, becoming faintly lightheaded.

“Oh my god!” Alex exclaims, yanking the door open – empty handed, he manages to notice – and rushing to kneel beside him. Her curls brush across his hand and for some reason it hurts his frantic nerves. “Are you alright!?”

“No!” He whines, the words muffled by his red palm.

“I’m so, so sorry, baby. Hold on, stay right here.”

Not given much choice, Matt sits in the middle of his hallway, nose bloody and eyes watering (no, he is not crying, no matter what Alex says later) while he waits for Alex to return. He can hear cupboards opening and closing, the sound of running water, and the sound of the freezer slamming shut. Another minute or so passes while he wishes for sleep before she’s back by his side, laying out an array of items. First, the washcloth to wipe away the blood. Next are the tissues to shove up his nose. And then the little white pill (he doesn’t bother to ask what it is; he trusts her) and a glass of water, for the pain. Lastly, a bag of peas for the swelling.

After she’s finished caring for him, she looks at him with a pout and asks, meekly, “Are you

After she’s finished caring for him, she looks at him with a pout and asks, meekly, “Are you angry?”

“I don’t know,” he gripes, and now he sounds nasally. Great. He preferred the muffled sound to this. “Every issue I have ever had with a door seems to stem from you.”

“It’s not my fault you’re clumsy!”

He looks at her skeptically.

“Okay, your issue with doors maybe has something to do with me. I love you, though, so that should make it better.”

“I love you, too, pet,” Matt sighs, shifting to his feet slowly, still feeling dizzy. “I do, however, think I should know what was in that box. It’s only fair.”

He’s surprised when she doesn’t hesitate: “My rabbit.”

“You’re kidding me, right? All this because you didn’t want me to open the box with your bloody dildo in it?” He nearly shouts, sounding horrible with these tissues shoved up his nostrils.

She grimaces, leading him to the living room with a hand at the small of his back. “It’s not clean.”

“I don’t… bloody hell, I just want to take a nap.”

“Okay, keep the peas on your nose and I’ll wake you up for dinner.” Alex offers, pulling the duvet off the back of the couch as he lays down on it.

“Yes, ma’am,” he mumbles, world already losing itself to sleep.

XxX

“Mom!” Salome calls out as she wanders down the hall. She pauses to kick off her shoes and drop her book bag in her room, before continuing her trek towards her mother’s new room. She watches as her mother pops her head out of her door, hair pulled back and sweat dripping from her forehead.

“Yes, princess?” Alex questions, wiping some of said sweat from her brow.

“Why is Matty asleep on the couch with a bag of peas on his face?” Salome asks innocently, rocking on her heels with her hands behind her back.

“Oh, I slammed a door in his face,” her mother says nonchalantly.

A look of horror flashes across the young girl’s face as she begins to assume the worst. “Did you two fight? Are we leaving?”

Alex laughs, shaking her head and stepping out of the bedroom. “No, honey. He was just trying to look in Mummy’s off limits box and I panicked.”

Nerves officially soothed, Salome nods. They stand there for a moment, just looking at one another, before she speaks up, “What’s in your off limits box, exactly?”

“Not you, too!” Alex cries, burying her face in her hands.

Giggling, Salome shrugs. “I’ll just go, you know, do my homework,” she says before scurrying off to her bedroom.

XxX

When dinner is ready, Alex places a hot bowl of soup on the coffee table in front of the sofa and looks down at Matt, still sleeping soundly. He looks peaceful like that, a combination of the man he really is – beautiful and strange – and the man-child who can’t seem to sit still. She adores both the man and his frequent childishness, so she smiles a little when she realizes that while he looks relatively adult-like, he’s clutching his blanket to him in his sleep.

Perching on the edge of the sofa, she runs her fingers gently through his hair and bites her lip, guilt

flooding through her. She might have overreacted a bit earlier – she just isn’t used to being so open and sharing these sorts of things. Her off limits box has always been just that – off limits to everyone but her. Things are different with Matt, though. She wants to share everything. It’s just hard to control that first knee-jerk reaction.

Leaning down, Alex presses a soft kiss to his forehead and rubs her thumb gently over his cheekbone. Poor darling – she’s always hurting him somehow. Matt stirs at her touch, eyes blinking open to regard her blearily. She smiles down at him tentatively, hoping he isn’t still cross with her. It’s their first “official” night with her moved into his place and she doesn’t want to spend it separately because Matt is clumsy and she’s too guarded.

“Hey,” she whispers, still threading her fingers through his hair. “How are you feeling?”

Matt doesn’t answer right away, either taking the time to assess how he feels or just too sleepy to respond instantly. “Better,” he finally says, voice scratchy with sleep.

Alex takes the bag of peas and bloodied tissues from his hand and places them on the coffee table, leaning close to inspect the damage she’s done. “I think it’s okay,” she says after a moment. “Just a bit swollen.” Biting her lip hard, she watches him closely as he rubs at his eyes.

“What are you looking so glum for?” He asks, stretching out on the sofa with a yawn.

Alex adjusts the blanket around him and avoids his eyes. “I’m just sorry,” she says quietly. “I really didn’t -- ”

“Alex, look at me,” Matt orders.

Sighing, she meets his gaze timidly and finishes her sentence. “I really didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Of course you didn’t,” he says, scoffing. “It was an accident, pet.”

Alex starts to look down again, fiddling with his blanket, but Matt places a hand over hers and forces her to look at him again. “You’re not angry?” She asks and she absolutely hates the way her voice shakes. She really is rubbish at this – it’s going to take some practice, being so open.

Sensing her distress, Matt pulls himself up on the sofa and reaches for her, pulling her into his arms. Alex curls up around him and buries her face in his neck, breathing steadily as his hands run up and down her back. “I’m not angry,” he says into her ear. “I mean, it hurt like hell but I’m fine. And even if you’d broken my nose, I’d still want to take you to bed tonight and have my way with you.”

Alex snorts into his neck, smiling against his skin. “You forgive me, then?”

Matt drops a kiss into her hair. “Nothing to forgive, sweetheart.”

Sighing contentedly, Alex closes her eyes and breathes him in. “We’re rubbish at this rowing thing.”

“I think we’ve done enough of that to last us for a while,” he says.

“True,” she agrees, opening her eyes and sitting up to meet his gaze. “But we’ve never really been the type to argue, have we? Before, I mean.”

Matt smiles and twirls a curl of her hair around his finger, watching it bounce back into place. “Not about anything more than what to watch on telly and who’s going to be on top.”

Grinning, Alex leans into him until her nose is brushing gently against his. “Match made in heaven,” she sighs.

Instead of replying, Matt slips his hand into her hair and pulls her closer, pressing his lips to hers. Alex lets him lead, just glad he isn’t cross with her. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she presses herself close to him, almost straddling his lap as she surrenders herself to his kiss. Matt slips a hand beneath her shirt, his fingers warm on the skin of her back.

Whimpering a little into his mouth, Alex almost forgets there is a child in the house until she hears a disgusted voice behind her grumble, “Ew!”

Quickly pulling away and scrambling off Matt’s lap, Alex turns to her daughter with wide eyes. “I thought you were doing your homework.”

Salome frowns at her. “You called me in for dinner.”

Behind her, Matt snorts. Without looking, Alex tosses a pillow at his head. “Did I? Well, it’s on the table, love.”

“If I bring it in here, can we watch X-Factor?” Salome asks hopefully, still watching them both like they might start snogging again any moment.

“Course you can, poppet,” Matt says, tossing her the remote. “You live here now too, you know.”

Salome beams at this, like she’d forgotten, and dances off to the kitchen to get her bowl of soup.

Chucking the pillow back to her, Matt complains, “We’re going to have to have a talk about your instinctive aggression, Kingston or you’re going to be suspected of domestic violence.”

Ignoring him, Alex raises an eyebrow and says, “Have I Got News For You is on. You’re going to miss it.”

Matt shrugs.

“You love that show,” she points out.

“And Salome loves X-Factor,” he retaliates. “Gotta compromise, Kingston.”

Glancing behind her to make sure Salome isn’t watching, Alex quickly leans in and kisses him. “You’re brilliant,” she says, smiling at him.

“I’m hungry,” Matt eyes the soup on the table and then looks back to her with a very impressive pout. “Feed me?”

Alex laughs. “I hit your nose, not your hands.”

“Well yeah, but I’m weak from blood loss,” he says, managing to somehow look pathetic, blanket wrapped around him and bottom lip sticking out adorably. “You can’t possibly expect me to lift a spoon to my mouth or have decent hand-to-mouth coordination.”

Picking up the bowl from the coffee table, Alex looks suitably disappointed. “Oh, does this mean no celebratory “all moved in” sex later? Wouldn’t want you to faint in the middle of it from weakness. Or embarrass yourself with bad coordination.”

Matt just grins at her. “I expect to make a full recovery by then.”

“Of course you do,” she sighs, bringing the spoon to his lips and indulging him just this once because no matter what he says, she still feels guilty. And his pout is damn near irresistible.

Salome wanders back into the room with her bowl and plops herself onto the sofa next to Alex. With a mischievous grin, she asks, “Mom, can you feed me too?”

“Oi!” Matt says, frowning. “I got here first.”

“Did not!” Salome giggles.

The sound of X-Factor starting has them both stopping in the middle of their teasing – Salome to watch the telly with rapt attention and Matt to open his mouth wide for another bite. Laughing, Alex gives him another spoonful and murmurs just low enough for him to hear, “I expect compensation for my services later, Mr. Smith.”

Chewing enthusiastically, Matt beams at her through a mouthful as Salome snuggles further into her side, giggling at Simon Cowell. In that moment, they feel so much like a family that Alex’s heart is full to bursting. They are a family, aren’t they?

Maybe a strange family to anyone else, but Alex wouldn’t have it any other way.

Chapter End Notes

Thanks for the comments and much love to Charina for being our beta! For this chapter, I wrote the last scene and Britney wrote the rest. Chapter title comes from Ingrid Michaelson's cover version of Only Fools Rush In. One more chapter and we're finished:)

Love all through our bodies Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes

It had been Matt’s idea to have Karen and Arthur over for dinner tonight – though he claimed Karen had been pestering him endlessly about visiting, saying she wanted to see what Matt’s place looked like when there were two children living there instead of just one. At that, Alex had laughed herself silly and Matt had sulked for an hour.

It’s been a rather nice evening, though, all things considered. Matt had helped her cook, Salome had set the table and when Karen and Arthur arrived, they’d had a lovely dinner with red wine for them and a fizzy drink for Salome. It had been just like a lunch break on set except the food was better. They’d talked and laughed, Arthur had made a joke about Matt’s chin, Matt had retaliated with a comment about his nose, and Karen had pretended to gag whenever Matt kissed Alex in front of her. It was all so comfortable and so easy. She never thought she would have this – especially with Matt.

At the moment, Matt, Karen and Salome have retired to the living room to play some sort of cryptic game with cards that Alex doesn’t understand. She thinks Matt and Karen just make up the rules as they go along. Arthur is perusing their CD collection like the nosy thing he is, nodding with approval sometimes and snorting with derision at others. Alex wants to tell him that those Glee soundtracks aren’t hers but she’s pretty sure he wouldn’t believe her anyway.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me!”

“You’re cheating!”

At the cries of protest from Karen and Salome, Alex leaves the biscuits baking in the oven and pokes her head out from the kitchen to see them holding their cards and glaring at Matt. They’re all sitting in the floor around the coffee table, cards and drinks spread out in front of them.

“Am not!” Matt looks entirely too pleased with himself, grinning at them.

“You have to be,” Karen insists. “There’s no way you can win five times in a row!”

Matt laughs. “I can’t help it I’m lucky.”

“You’re a clumsy disaster with limbs,” Karen says. “You are not winning with luck, stupid face!”

“Oi! Uncalled for!”

As they continue to row, Salome huffs and tosses her cards onto the table, though she can’t seem to keep a smile from twitching at the corners of her mouth. It seems staying angry with Matt is difficult for her too. Alex knows the feeling.

Spotting her lurking in the entryway to the living room, Matt’s eyes light up and he jumps to his feet. “Alex, they’re persecuting me for being a winner.”

She laughs as he wraps his arms around her waist and nuzzles his face into her hair. “Poor baby,” she says, cupping her hand around the back of his neck.

Karen and Salome make identical faces of distaste but Alex doesn’t have time to respond before Matt is lifting her off her feet. She shrieks, laughing through her protests as he carries her by the waist over to the sofa and sits down with her, pulling her into his lap.

Pulling away to shove at his chest, she says, “You great idiot, couldn’t you just ask me to sit down?”

He grins at her. “Ah, but what fun would that have been?”

“Mom,” Salome whines, and Alex turns from Matt’s pleased face to look at her. “Make him stop winning.”

She shakes her head, smiling. “I can’t, love. Why don’t you play a different game?”

“Like what?”

“I know!” Karen scrambles to her feet and makes her way over to the board games stacked in the

corner of the room. Alex still hasn’t managed to find a place for them. She needs to rearrange things in the hall closet and make space but she hasn’t yet deemed it important enough to spend time on. Bending long legs at the knee, Karen kneels and angles her head awkwardly to read the titles. “Ah ha! This one!”

When Karen pulls the game out from the bottom of the stack and holds it up to the light, Alex laughs, Salome squeals in delight and Matt and Arthur groan in unison. “No,” Matt protests. “Pretty Pretty Princess? That’s a girl’s game!”

Holding a Yeah Yeah Yeah’s CD and perusing the song titles, Arthur says without looking up, “We’re completely at a disadvantage here. I say unfair.”

“And I agree,” Matt says, holding up his hand. “Here here.”

Alex nudges him and he winces. “Are you scared to play a little girl’s game, Mr. Smith?”

“Scared I’ll whip him,” Salome says, smiling.

Matt points a finger at her, squinting. “Alright, poppet. You just wait. I’ll beat you at any game you throw at me.”

“Honestly,” Alex says, rolling her eyes. “Is this what your life is now? Challenging little girls to board games?”

Matt frowns, looking disturbed. “Apparently.”

Arthur joins them around the coffee table and helps Karen and Salome set up the game. Once everything is ready, the three of them force Matt and Alex apart because they can’t play if they’re too busy snogging. Salome seems to like the backup when it comes to limiting their public displays of affection.

By the middle of the game, Arthur is losing miserably and Matt and Salome are competing fiercely to get the crown. At this point in the game, no one but those two seem to care about winning. Arthur is organizing the jewelry by color and Karen is watching Matt and Salome bicker goodnaturedly with her chin resting on her open palm.

When Alex spins and lands on a ring, she reaches for the jewelry box but Matt stops her with a hand on her arm. “Allow me, my lady,” he says, with a wink and an over-the-top, gallant smile.

Alex rolls her eyes at him but says, “Very well, good sir.”

At the moment, he’s wearing three multi-colored necklaces and bracelets, with a plastic ring on each pinky. Alex wants to pull out her lipstick and put it on him, just to complete the look. She wonders if he’d let her, if she gave him another glass of wine. While she’s contemplating it, Matt selects a pink ring from the box. He takes her hand and slides the ring onto her ring finger. It’s too small to go past her knuckle but at the moment, she can’t say she cares. Matt looks up and when his eyes meet hers, her breath catches in her throat. Suddenly, it isn’t just a silly little game anymore and with the way he’s looking at her, he seems to know it too.

It doesn’t even feel odd. It just feels right. Everything about their life together feels right and Alex can’t quite believe that they’ve made it work. It’s all so very domestic with them and she didn’t ever think it would be something Matt wanted, having a life stable enough to raise a child with her but he’s taken to it like a duck to water. She’s never been more grateful for him than when she sees him with her daughter, or when his arm slips around her in the night.

She hadn’t been sure that living with Matt would work out very well in the end but it’s better than she could have hoped for. He compromises with Salome when it comes to the television, he helps her with her homework, and he gets her to take a shower when Alex is too tired to argue with her. He’s there when Alex wakes up in the morning, usually smiling at her from his pillow. He holds her hand in the street and in the car, he kisses her for no reason other than because he wants to, he helps her with dinner and distracts her from washing the dishes with open-mouthed kisses to the back of her neck and uncoordinated waltzing around the kitchen table. Matt has become everything to her and her daughter, and staring into his smiling eyes right then, Alex knows she wants nothing more than to spend the rest of her life this way.

Across the table, Arthur clears his throat pointedly and the spell is broken. Matt blinks, smiling widely at her and dropping a kiss to her hand. They turn back to the game as if nothing has happened, ignoring Karen’s smirking face.

In another ten minutes, Matt has won the game, princess crown atop his head as he takes a bite of one of Alex’s biscuits and gloats like a child.

“You really should not be so happy about being the prettiest princess,” Alex says, watching him adjust his crown and preen.

“Really, mate,” Arthur says with a frown. “It’s unmanly.”

Matt looks offended. “Oi, crowns are cool now!”

Laughing, Alex watches as Salome leans back on the floor and giggles at him, covering her face with her hand. She had thought her daughter would be miffed about losing but apparently seeing Matt in a princess crown is a win all its own.

“Alright,” Arthur says, standing up and stretching. “I feel decidedly emasculated. You got a football about this place?”

Snorting, Karen says, “You’re just pouting because you wanted to be a princess too, aren’t you?” She pats him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, Darvill. You’re a pretty princess on the inside.”

Arthur glares at her. “I’m going to find a football and kick you in the face with it.”

They continue to bicker as they all head outside to play football under the night sky and Alex shakes her head, watching them go. “Football’s in the garage,” she tells Matt, feeling him snake an arm around her waist from behind.

“You coming?”

She nods, turning around to face him and bursting into laughter when she sees he’s still wearing all his jewelry – crown included. “You daft man. You can’t play football in that.”

“I know,” he says, taking off the crown to inspect it admiringly. “I like it, though. I can see why you like being the princess when we --”

“Sshh,” Alex covers his mouth with a laugh, glancing over her shoulder at Salome, still fiddling with the board game. Leaning close, she brushes her lips against his jaw, smiling when he shivers against her. “Go play football and if you’re very very good, I might let you be the princess tonight.”

“Deal,” Matt growls, leaning in to kiss her.

Before Alex can even get her arms around him to respond, he’s letting go of her with a wink and striding across the room to Salome. He picks her up and swings her onto his back, laughing when she shrieks and giggles with protests.

“Matty, put me down!”

“Can’t,” he says, heading out the door with her. “I need you to be on my team, poppet.”

Shaking her head in amusement, Alex turns to put Matt’s crown back in the box. She’ll wrestle all of the other jewelry off of him later tonight – should be interesting. With a broad grin, Alex heads outside to join her ridiculous little family on the lawn.

--

When Matt and Salome make it to the back yard, Karen and Arthur are already kicking the football around – how they managed to find it so quickly is beyond him. Karen is making a fool of herself as she tries to bounce it off her foot and nearly tripping herself in the process. He smiles at her clumsiness, bouncing Salome against his back. The young girl squeals loudly, tightening her grip around his neck.

“Up for a round, sweetheart?” He asks her, turning his head to smile at her adorably flushed cheeks.

Salome looks at him seriously for a moment. He always hates it when she does that. He never knows what to expect from her when she gets that face on. She tilts her head and asks, “Are you going to marry my mom, Matty?”

Matt stops short of the grass, staring at Salome with wide-eyes. He can feel his heart skip every other beat and the blood race through his veins with adrenaline. Marry Alex?

Marry Alex.

Marry Alex.

He can’t say he understands what happens next because his mind is still reeling from Salome’s out-of-the-blue question, but the next thing he knows, the ball has landed square in his midsection, causing him to bend forward. Salome falls from his back and onto the grass with a shriek and the force it has him tumbling to the ground next to her.

“Oh my god, are you okay!? I’m so sorry!” Karen screeches, rushing towards them. Mouth full of grass and body bent at an odd angle, Matt glances over to Salome, who is staring out at the sky above her with a befuddled expression. She slowly meets his eyes and they share a look of, ‘what just happened?’

Ginger hair suddenly clouds his vision and he turns his head, rolling over onto his back and seeing Karen leaning over him, a concerned look on her face. He begins to chuckle and Salome joins him, their giggles quickly turning into full on bellied laughter.

Karen rolls her eyes, saying something to Arthur that he can’t really hear over the sound his and Salome’s combined laughter.

He’s silently thankful for the painful blow to the stomach and the lack of air in his lungs, though.

What kind of question was that?

Shaking his head, he moves to stand and help the young girl to her feet. This time, actually paying attention to what’s happening, they join in on the game. He doesn’t answer her question and she doesn’t bring it up again.

Though he has a feeling she might later, if she really wants an answer.

Matt throws himself into the game, pushing Arthur around and chuckling with him when they both stumble and Karen manages to get the ball from them. Salome does very well, for being new at it. She even ducks between his legs once, which surprises him when they don’t even fall from the force of it.

It feels invigorating, goofing around with his good friends. They haven’t really seen much of each other lately, and he’s so very glad he had suggested this. He kicks the ball towards Salome, and turns to face the house. He sees Alex standing in the doorway, and he can make out the smile that graces her face.

“Are you going to marry my mom, Matty?”

A shiver lances down his spine, and he returns her smile with hesitation. Did Salome expect them to get married? Did he want to get married?

“Oi! Pay attention, airhead!” Karen shouts. Matt glances back to her, but she’s already distracted again with trying to get the ball from Arthur, who’s currently kicking the ball back and forth between his feet.

“Just go on without me,” he tells them, before moving quickly towards Alex. She quirks a brow at him when he’s close enough, but he just shrugs before kissing her. She responds immediately (god, he loves that), wrapping her arms around his waist and pulling him closer. He’s glad Salome is busy, because he really doesn’t want to stop.

He slides his hands into her hair, as always marveling at the softness of her curls. She didn’t use any hair products today, and his fingers filter through easily. A small moan escapes her throat and vibrates across his tongue, causing his skin to tighten.

When they pull away, she’s smiling so brightly at him and his heart clenches at the sight.

“What was that for?” She asks, biting her lip. Her fingers play with the back of his shirt, the soft pads of her fingertips slipping underneath occasionally.

“Just because I love you,” he shrugs, opting for the simple version.

‘Just because you’re amazing and you cause me to want to do crazy things for you. Just because I want to make sure you’re still here with me, because I don’t want to wake up in the next five minutes and figure out the past couple months have been a dream. Just because you mean the world to me and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.’

And he does, doesn’t he? He wants to spend the rest of his life with this woman, just doing whatever to make her happy and keep her that way.

“Aren’t you a big softy?” Alex laughs, kissing him again, just a press of their lips together. His eyes flutter shut, and he nuzzles her nose with his.

This is where he belongs, he knows. In her arms, in her life.

“I didn’t think I needed a reason to kiss you,” he murmurs against her lips, eyes opening to focus on hers again.

“Of course you don’t, silly. It was just unexpected is all.”

“I hope to take you off guard more often then, if it incites that smile,” he says with a wink.

“I bet you will,” Alex replies, a little breathlessly.

He thinks back to Salome’s question – innocent enough for a ten-year-old, heavy enough to cause his heart to race at the thought of it. The thought of marrying Alex Kingston is not as highly scary as he is expecting it to be, though. As it should be. With his track record – the length of his record isn’t what he’s concerned about, but the content is – it should be entirely frightening.

But this is Alex.

Everything seems so much better with her. Even having his face personally meet the hard wood of a door, for example. Everything is just so much brighter. He has to admit he’s become somewhat of a sap when it comes to her. Just standing here with her is enough to send his heart into a tailspin.

Especially with that little smile she’s got, and that cocked hip, or the way her hair glows because of the light filtering out of the house they share. It all feels right.

And marrying her? Oh, that sounds perfect. Seeing a ring on her finger, every morning, and knowing she’s his and he’s hers in every sense of the word is honestly the best thought that has ever crossed his mind. Making her happy is his mission in life now, and he doesn’t see that changing at all.

He wants to forever be there for her, for Salome. He’s going to marry this woman someday.

He knows that right now they’re taking it day by day, and he’d probably scare her away (again) if he did it anytime soon. But he thinks, one day, he will. He will take the time and pick out the right ring, probably with Salome’s help. He’ll book reservations at her favorite restaurant, for the three of them, and tell her it’s “just because.”

Just because everything.

And in that moment between the main course and dessert he will get down on one knee and hope for the best.

He doesn’t imagine she’d give him any less. She never could. He likes to think he makes her as happy as she makes him, and if that idea is anything to go by, he isn’t too afraid of getting a ‘no’ in return.

Coming back to himself, Matt kisses her again, cupping her face in his hands as he dominates her mouth. He puts everything into this kiss, and it leaves her breathless and staring at him with wide, slightly aroused, eyes.

“Oh, I will. Definitely,” he finally agrees, offering her a giant smile. The sound of Karen, Arthur and Salome fighting over the ball reaches his ears, but his eyes never leave Alex’s. Those green eyes that could burn a hole in his chest and heal it again, just like new. Without thinking, he says, “It’s just you, you know that, right? It’s always going to be you. You’re my everything and this? This is perfect.”

She bites her lip again, and he watches as her eyes rim red. That look used to bring him to his knees in effort to fix whatever wrong was bothering her. But now, right now, he knows this is a happy kind of tearing up. This is a, ‘Oh my, could this get any better?’ moment and she’s right there with him.

“It’s just you,” she murmurs back.

They share a smile and he is overwhelmed, blown away, thrilled, because he is definitely marrying this woman and making them a proper family. Together, they’re going to grow old and watch Salome grow up into a beautiful, successful woman. She’s going to help him through all those mid-life crisis problems men tend to have and he’s going to dash all her fears when she thinks she’s not good enough.

Together, they could conquer the world.

But he’s content with a simple life, though simplicity with Alex Kingston at his side is highly unlikely.

He wouldn’t have it any other way.

Fin

Chapter End Notes

It's over! Thank you all so much for sticking with us through this massive fic. Haha We love you guys! Be on the lookout for oneshots that take place after this fic:) For this chapter, I wrote from Alex's point of view and Britney wrote from Matt's. Chapter title from Five Years Time by Noah and the Whale. Thanks to Charina for being our beta!

Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!