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worryinglyinnocent · 7 years ago

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Fic: Take Care (5/5)

Well, that only took two years to complete... Please enjoy this conclusion.

Summary: When Rush goes missing for slightly too long and the crew become even more suspicious than they already are, the search for him is cut short by reports from Greer that there is an intruder on the ship. He’s not entirely wrong, but when Chloe recognises their mysterious visitor as Gloria, one person who could definitely, absolutely not ever be on Destiny, things take a turn for the interesting. Is this Destiny testing them again, or is this a cry for help?

Gloria/Rush, with a side of Gloria/Chloe/Rush bromance, sort of…

Set between Trial and Error and The Greater Good, and diverges from there.

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [AO3]

Chapter 5

Chloe sits by Rush’s bed in the infirmary. TJ has given him the all clear, they just have to wait for him to wake up and get some fluids into him. He looks a lot less like he’s at death’s door now that he’s not covered in blood. It’s obvious that he needs the sleep, so they’re not too worried about waking him up prematurely. Well, the only person who particularly wants to wake him up prematurely is Young, and that’s probably only because he wants to be angry at him. Scratch that, Young is angry at Rush, furiously and incandescently so, because now that the science team have got inside the bridge and started going over its controls with a fine toothed comb, it’s clear that Rush has had control for a while now, and the colonel wonders just how much of what has happened in recent weeks could have been prevented if he had decided to share that information with them rather than keeping it to himself.

Whilst Rush is unconscious, however, there’s not a lot that Young can do in terms of shouting at him, so he’s taking his frustrations out by pacing up and down the infirmary and occasionally talking to TJ in a harsh whisper that Chloe knows he doesn’t mean for her to hear. He’s not at all happy at her being out of confinement and it seems like he’s even less happy that she’s in here with Rush. From what he’s been saying, he now suspects some kind of a conspiracy between the two of them, and Chloe just rolls her eyes.

Thankfully, whilst TJ wants to smack Rush for keeping the bridge a secret just as much as the rest of them do, she does have Chloe’s back in these arguments, calmly explaining everything that points to Chloe being just as unaware as the rest of them. Young accepts this begrudgingly and resumes his pacing, giving Rush’s comatose body black looks every now and then.

“Colonel, he’s not going to wake up any quicker with you staring at him all the time,” TJ says. “I think that you might be better served elsewhere. I’m sure that the science team will have something to report on the bridge by now. I know you want to yell at him the moment he wakes up, we all do, but with respect, sir, I don’t think there’s a lot to be gained from waiting for that to happen. I’ll call you as soon as he’s awake.”

Young seems to accept this and leaves the infirmary, and the tension in the air immediately lessens to slightly more bearable levels. Chloe looks over at Rush again.

“You’re in so much trouble,” she says conversationally. She wonders if there is something that she ought to be doing, rather than just sitting here. It’s not like she has any duties to perform around the ship that she would be doing instead; she’d just be swapping sitting in the infirmary under military guard to sitting in her room under military guard, so it’s a change of scenery if nothing else. “I think people are going to start lining up to try and kill you soon. You’re lucky I’m here, really.” She doesn’t necessarily want to kill him, but she does want to ask him what the hell he thought he was playing at in keeping them all in the dark for so long.

It’s strange. Chloe’s hand hovers over Rush’s, unsure whether to take it or not. That this strange sequence of events has connected them is irrefutable. They’d had some kind of connection at the hands of their Nakai nightmares before, but the very fact that Destiny itself seems to think that they’re connected has resonance somewhere in the back of Chloe’s mind. The ship wants them to stick together and help each other, and something in her head really wants to listen to it. She knows she’s thinking like Rush now, that the ship is so much older and bigger than the both of them and it does things for a reason, so they probably ought to respect it. She thinks back to what TJ said, about the ship actually caring about them. Maybe it’s caring about her too, giving her excuses and ways to get out and about during her solitary confinement.

She closes her hand over Rush’s. It’s the kind of thing that people do in medical dramas when their terribly ill or injured loved ones are in a critical condition and it’s touch and go for them. It’s not touch and go for Rush, so much. She just knows that there’s no-one else who would do it for him. It’s like Gloria said when she first appeared in her quarters.

No-one else is going to take care of him. Least of all himself.

Whatever strange thing binds them together, whatever link that Destiny has sensed between them, whether as a result of Chloe’s transformation or their shared trauma or something deeper and less definable, it’s there to stay. They are never going to see eye to eye about everything, in fact they’re probably not going to see eye to eye about practically anything, but no matter how much Chloe might want to yell at him, she knows that they understand each other, and perhaps they’re the only people on the ship who share that peculiar level of understanding.

“Thank you.”

Chloe looks up and startles when she sees Gloria standing there. She glances over at TJ, but Gloria shakes her head.

“No, she can’t see me.” There’s a pause. “Eli is running diagnostics on the simulation program from the bridge. I don’t know how long I have. Young wants him to shut it off to prevent any more incidents.”

Well, considering that the simulation program nearly caused Young to have a breakdown when it started testing his leadership skills, Chloe can understand his reluctance to have it running in the background and possibly causing mass hallucinations in his crew. All the same, it makes Chloe wonder.

“So what happens if Rush works himself half to death again?”

Gloria shrugs, perching on the edge of the bed beside her husband. “He’ll just have to accept that he can’t rely on Destiny taking care of him anymore, and he’ll maybe have to take some responsibility for his own wellbeing.”

Her tone is almost motherly, and knowing that she is the ship’s mouthpiece who has taken this view, it makes Chloe laugh. Even Destiny is exasperated by Rush’s workaholic tendencies.

“I did keep telling him to go to sleep,” Gloria continues. “You can imagine how he took that advice. Most of our interactions consisted of me telling him to stop working and him telling me to be quiet.”

Chloe gives a huff of laughter, and she knows what this is building up to. If Destiny can’t take care of Rush, for whatever reason, then this task is going to fall to her. She finds she doesn’t mind. Everyone needs someone to have their back, even Rush, and maybe if he realises that he has a friend and someone looking out for him all the time, then he won’t feel the need to be so damn secretive and manipulative all the time, if he has someone he knows he can trust.

“What if we need you again?” she asks. “I mean, if you’re a manifestation of Destiny itself, then you might be useful to have around.”

Gloria shakes her head. “Not like this. Not this particular form, this shape. I’m too shaped by Rush. But Franklin’s still here too. He’s more likely to provide practical assistance.”

“Franklin?” So that’s where he went when he vanished in the chair. He was uploaded into Destiny’s mainframe.

“Yes. According to Nicholas he’s far more useful than I am.”

They fall into silence for a while, and Chloe takes a few minutes to study the pair of them, Rush’s memories of Gloria watching over him faithfully. It makes her think, just how much Gloria’s death must have affected him, for her to be such a large part of his subconscious now. She remembers the conversation that led to her first realising that Gloria even existed.

“He loves you,” she says. Even though it’s not Gloria and she’s just a construct taking this form for expediency’s sake, it feels important to say it.

Gloria smiles. “I know.”

They fall into silence again. Gloria’s presence seems to be fading, as if it’s taking more and more energy for her to stay here in this form. Whatever Eli’s doing to the simulation program, it’s obviously taking its toll.

“Thank you for rescuing him,” she says presently. “Please keep him safe for me whilst I can’t.”

“I can’t decide whether to hug him or kick his ass,” Chloe mutters. Gloria laughs.

“Don’t worry, that’s a sentiment I can well understand. He’s always been like that.”

Chloe snorts. “Well, at least you admitting it means that he admits it himself. I think.”

Gloria smiles. “Something like that.”

She leans over and kisses Rush gently on the forehead, but Chloe can’t tell if she actually makes contact or not.

“You know where I am if you need me,” she whispers to him, and then she’s gone, and Chloe knows that she won’t be coming back, not unless someone does something to activate the simulation program again. From what Gloria said earlier, back in her room when she was decoding the bridge door, that doesn’t seem likely.

Beside her, Rush twitches as he comes to.

“Glo?” he mumbles.

Chloe shakes her head. “Close, but no cigar. Chloe.”

“Gloria?”

“No. Just me. Sorry.”

He opens bloodshot, weary eyes and looks up at her.

“Gloria was here,” he says. “I heard her.”

“Yeah, she was. She’s gone now, though. I think Eli’s quarantined the program.” Chloe glances over at TJ on the other side of the infirmary; she must have twigged that Rush is awake again but she’s being very good at pretending obliviousness and giving him some time to come round fully before she sics Young on him. Rush nods, and Chloe wonders if he’ll miss her, the simulation who wasn’t really his wife, created from his own memories, his own guilt.

“You were there,” he says. “I heard you. When…”

He doesn’t finish the sentence, but Chloe can fill in the gaps for him. Suddenly, he’s much more alert, looking around himself, as if he’s just realised that he’s not where he was when he passed out.

“Where am I?”

“Infirmary.”

“How did I get here?”

“Kino sled. TJ and I didn’t feel like carrying you all the way here.”

Even looking like death warmed over, he can still give a pretty good ‘don’t be an idiot’ glare, but Chloe just laughs.

“I cracked the code to get into the bridge and came to rescue you from yourself. You’re welcome, by the way.”

“Thank you.” There’s a long pause as reality dawns, and Rush grimaces. “Ah.”

“Yeah, I think ‘ah’ is putting it mildly,” Chloe says. “Young’s about ready to throw you out of an airlock and the rest of us aren’t that far behind. I take it you’ve got some kind of explanation?”

“I do, but my head hurts too much to go into detail right now.”

“Here.” TJ comes over with a cup of water and Rush manages to lever himself into a sitting position and drink. “Not only are you ridiculously exhausted, you’re also even more dehydrated than the rest of us. Now, I promised I’d call Young as soon as you woke up, but I figure I’ll give you a while to make sure you’re fully compos mentis and have all your excuses and explanations lined up before he comes down here.”

Rush nods his appreciation, a little cowed. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet, you haven’t seen him.”

TJ leaves them alone again then.

“How did you get into the bridge?” Rush asks.

“Gloria helped me. She gave me all the calculations that you’d already done and I was able to work out the rest of it.”

He nods, slowly.

“You know, part of me is really quite worried about how connected you are to this ship,” she points out. “The fact that it can tell when you’re about to keel over and takes it upon itself to get a rescue party together is remarkable.” She raises an eyebrow. “You know, I really think Destiny likes you.”

Rush scoffs, but his expression is thoughtful, and he doesn’t speak for a while. When he does, his words are not at all what Chloe expects.

“You spoke to Gloria.”

“Yes. Well, whatever the strange simulation-come-AI hologram, manifestation of Destiny’s sentience all tied up a bow of your borrowed memories type thing that Gloria is. I find it easier just to call her Gloria.”

“I see.” He pauses again, still lost in thought. “I wonder why she chose you.”

It’s a rhetorical question, and whilst Chloe could see it as an insult, she doesn’t think it is.

“Alien brain to the rescue,” she says. “Super blue knowledge needed to crack open doors.”

They both know that it’s not that, not really, but at the moment, they lack the same depth of understanding of each other that Destiny has of them both. The tentative friendship that they have formed over the past few months has solidified into something now. The past few hours have seen to that, and Chloe feels that she owes it to Gloria - not just the simulation she interacted with but the memory of the woman herself, a person she never met and only knows through another person’s memories - to honour these changing circumstances and take care of Rush in the same roundabout, Rush-like way that he keeps an eye out for her.

“Chloe.” TJ is coming back. “I think it would be best if you went back to your room now.”

Chloe has to agree, because as much as she wants to stick by Rush, she can’t do that if she doesn’t have a clue what’s going on, and being here when Young comes in is probably just going to get the both of them in trouble. Rush nods.

“I can handle Young,” he says, and Chloe just raises an eyebrow.

“Of course you can.”

“If I’m still able to walk after the friendly chat that we’re no doubt about to have, I’ll come and see you,” he says. There’s still a lot for them to talk about, the things that they share that no-one else could even come close to understanding. First their abduction and escape, then the nightmares that continued to link them, and now this final attempt by Destiny to bring them together in an alliance. It’s not something that can be ignored.

“Oh no you won’t,” TJ mutters. “You’re staying where I can keep an eye on you. I don’t want to find you collapsed in a corridor in a couple of hours because you’re too stubborn to admit you’re human.”

Rush huffs, and Chloe laughs, and TJ gives a long-suffering sigh before radioing Dunning to come and escort Chloe back to her quarters and Young to say Rush is ready for the third degree. As she leaves the infirmary, Chloe thinks she gets the briefest glimpse of Gloria out of the corner of her eye, but when she turns, the image is gone.

As worrying a thought as the ship keeping tabs on them is, it is nice to know that it’s taking care of them, and making sure that they take care of each other.

#SGU #SGU fic #Nicholas Rush #Chloe Armstrong #Gloria Rush #NickxGloria #Fic: Take Care

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worryinglyinnocent · 7 years ago

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Fic: A Beginning, Of Sorts

Summary: You know, I can’t even remember where this prompt came from but it cropped up in conversation after this fic involving Nick and Gloria roleplaying an escort and client. Some of us were talking about how terrible Rush would be as an escort, and someone else ( @woodelf68 perhaps?) said that they could actually see it working as a method for him to fund himself through college – minimal investment of time for maximum financial return.

Anyway, wherever it came from, this is the finished product. Nicholas Rush meets Gloria when she hires him as to escort her to a fancy party one evening…

Rated: M – fade to black, but adult themes.

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A Beginning, Of Sorts

Nick sighs, pushes his glasses down his nose to be able to rub the bridge, and readjusts them before looking again at the paperwork spread out in front of him, trying to make sense of it all.

PhD’s are fucking hard work. He loves maths, he loves physics, he honestly does, but right now there are numbers swimming in front of his eyes and he really doesn’t think that he’s going to get anything vaguely useful out of it tonight. With a grunt of pain from the ache in his neck, he leans back in his chair and closes his eyes, wondering whether to get some more coffee and try and plough on with it, or give it up as a bad job. He’s worked twice this week already so he thinks that he’s allowed to be knackered.

The phone, shrill and urgent and unrelenting, bursts into angry life and Nick rolls his shoulders before going to answer it. There’s only one person who’d be calling this number at this time, and he’s not entirely sure he wants to answer. Maybe he should let it go to answerphone and he’ll pick it up in the morning when he’s less tired. Maybe he should just pretend to be out, but unfortunately he’s not exactly known for being a social butterfly. Pushing these other welcome notions aside, he grabs the receiver.

“Rush.”

“Hey Nick, it’s Liz.”

He knew that it was going to be Liz. She sounds even more tired than he does. Liz isn’t her real name, he knows that much, but he’s never pried into what her name actually is.

“Hi Liz.”

“Diary says you’re available Saturday night, is that still the case?”

Nick looks down at his paperwork. Of course he’s available Saturday night, it’s not like he has a hot date with anyone except these equations, and they’re not exactly the best company. True, they’re quiet and they share all his own interests, as far as theoretical physics is concerned, but they don’t really make small talk and you can’t really wine and dine a sheaf of papers. On the other hand… He rolls his neck again, feeling the catch. He’s just so damned tired at the moment.

Still, any work is good work, and even scholarship students need to eat and sleep.

“Yeah, I’m still available.”

“Great. I’ve got a job for you.”

“When, where, who.” He doesn’t really waste on small talk with Liz. She’s calling to give him an appointment, and anything else in their interaction is somewhat awkward.

“Saturday night at seven-thirty, a young lady by the name of Gloria Miller. She wants to meet you at the Palace Hotel bar for a chat but then you’ll be going elsewhere, she wants an escort to a fancy family party out of town. Play at being the boyfriend, you know.”

Nick raises an eyebrow. He doesn’t usually get escorting jobs that involve actual escorting. He’s really not the most social person in the world, and he’s really not the most social person on Liz’s books. Sex he can do – very well even if he does say so himself. Interacting with other people… Not so great.

“Are you sure I’m the right person for this one?” he asks.

“Well, the only other guy I have available on Saturday is Danny and he’s even more of a no-go for social events than you are. Besides, she sounded nervous and he’d send her running for the hills.”

Nick has to give a snort at that. Danny caters for rather more specialised tastes.

“I can trust you with this one, can’t I? I think she just needs someone to prop her up for an evening in the face of disapproving relatives. Just be polite and attentive and keep her drink topped up, and neatly deflect any questions about when the two of you are getting married and having kids.”

“Yeah, ok.” Well, that shouldn’t be too difficult. He wonders why Miss Miller has felt the need to hire company for the evening, but decides that it’s really none of his business and he’s not paid to think about those kind of things. “I’ll be there. Dress code?”

“Smart, but not super formal. Suit and tie.”

Nick wrinkles his nose. He hates wearing ties and tries to get away without one as much as humanly possible. He only ever wears them when he’s working and even then, if he can go without he will. Unfortunately, Liz can read his silence.

“You’re wearing a damn tie, Rush.”

“All right, all right. Saturday, half-seven at the Palace. How long?”

“She’s paid up till midnight, thinks the party will be breaking up by then.” There’s a long pause at the other end of the line. “I know I don’t have to tell you this but take condoms and lube just in case. You never know.”

“Of course, Liz.”

“Payment like usual. Have fun.”

“Thanks, Liz.”

They say their goodbyes and Nick puts down the phone, staring at it for a few minutes before getting up and padding through to the kitchenette to make a fresh mug of coffee. If he’s sacrificing Saturday night to the tune of getting paid, he’ll need to keep working on these equations tonight.

The Palace Hotel isn’t the most expensive place his client could have chosen, but it’s certainly not the cheapest, and he wonders how old she is and how she came to be blowing her savings on hiring an escort and buying ridiculously priced cocktails in this bar. Nick readjusts his tie and takes a good look around the room, eyeing up the possible clients. He picks her out straight away. She’s sitting at the bar with a Margarita that she’s not drinking, and she meets his eyes as soon as he walks in. She’s the only one here alone, and Nick takes a moment to study her from afar before he goes over.

She’s fairly young, mid-twenties at most; his own age. That’ll make selling the fake relationship a bit easier. Long legs and soft curves encased in a classy, well-fitting little black dress. Honey-blonde hair pinned up, and pale skin. She’s very pretty, and Nick wonders again why she needs an escort for the evening.

Still, nothing to be gained by staring at her from the doorway, so he goes over.

“Miss Miller?”

She nods. “Please, call me Gloria. You must be Hamish. Thanks for coming.”

Nick admits that Hamish probably isn’t the best professional alias he could have chosen for himself, but since he’s so obviously Scottish, as Liz reminds him frequently, he thought that the best thing to do would be to play up that Scottishness. As long as none of his clients ask him to wear a kilt because he doesn’t actually own one and the last time he wore one, he was told that he looked terrible in it. When he first started in the job he had a terrible fear of being asked to wear a kilt and nothing else, because romantic fiction and ridiculous novel covers have a lot to answer for when it comes to the unnecessary objectification of Scotsmen.

“My pleasure,” he replies. He really hates parties. He hates most social occasions in general, but since this pays the bills and is earning him his PhD, he’s going to have to give in with good grace and be on his best behaviour during this one. Unless, of course, Gloria wants him to play at being an absolute arse in order to get her family off her back, the objective being that after him they’ll be happy with whoever she ends up with. Some of the more experienced escorts have had that kind of a job before, with clients who aren’t out to their parents. On the other hand, that might well backfire and lead to the awkward situation of her being put under even more pressure to replace the highly inappropriate ‘boyfriend’ and take up with someone better.

“Can I get you a drink?” Gloria asks.

Nick shakes his head. He doesn’t like drinking too much when he’s working because he likes to be fully alert and aware of his surroundings, and although he’s not been to all that many swanky parties in his time, he knows that there’s likely to be a lot of alcohol once they get there.

“Did the woman at the agency tell you what I wanted?” Gloria continues. “About the party, I mean.”

“She told me that there was going to be a party, but she didn’t give me any details.”

“It’s my grandparents,” Gloria elucidates. “They live about seven miles out of the city. They have a big pre-Christmas party every year, loads of family, friends, influential business people.” Her voice hardens on the last few words. “And every year so far since I moved out, I’ve turned up without a date, and my grandmother tries to set me up with any number of godawful would-be suitors, as if I only exist to be married off and continue the family line, and…” She breaks off. “Sorry. I shouldn’t be saying all this.”

Nick just shrugs. “You can say whatever you like, it makes no difference to me. I’m here for you, not any of your relations.”

“At any rate, this year I was determined not to turn up on my own and that’s where you come in.” She pauses. “I wanted to meet you here before so we could work out a reasonable cover story. I’m doing my Education Masters at the university, we met there.”

Nick nods. “Yes, that’s easy enough.” He wonders if their paths have ever crossed before. “What was your Bachelor?”

“Music. I play the violin; my aim is to get into an orchestra. Teaching’s a backup in case that dream falls through. You? I don’t mean in real life, obviously.”

“PhD,” Nick replies. “Which is technically the truth. You can pick the subject. Just nothing involving foreign languages, or I’ll be fucked,” he adds.

There’s a lot less nervousness in Gloria’s features now, and as she smiles, taking a sip of her margarita, her face lights up.

“Maths,” she says eventually. “You look like the mathematical sort.” She cocks her head on one side and smiles. “Am I even close to being right?”

Nick quirks an eyebrow. “That would be telling. Anything else I need to know?”

“My grandpa made his money in antiques, my dad carried on from him, and all the women in my family are professional wives.” She snorts. “They really want me to settle down, so there’ll probably be a bunch of questions about when we’re going to get married and how many kids we’ll have. If I can say one thing for my family, they’re very… eager.”

Nick just laughs. He thinks he’s going to get on with Gloria. They’re more alike than he thought would be possible, considering their vastly disparate backgrounds, but despite her obvious privilege, she seems grounded enough. He’s met enough of the other sort during the course of his ‘career’. Burning Daddy’s money away and coasting along through their classes.

“We should probably get going,” Gloria says, draining the last of her drink. “They’ll be expecting us soon.” She pauses. “I think you should know, before we go, that a bit of me is just doing this to spite my dad. He gave me a ‘dress allowance’ and told me to go and get ‘something pretty for the party’. So I did.” She pauses. “Sorry, that’s horribly insensitive.”

Nick shrugs. “It’s true, in the most brutal sense of the word.” Her frankness is refreshing, and so is her apology.

“Yes, but it’s still not a very nice thing for me to have said.”

“We’ll say no more about it. I’m flattered that you think I’m pretty.”

“Oh, you’re very pretty.” She slips her arm through his and they leave the hotel bar; there’s a taxi waiting. The drive to her grandparents’ house is quiet and awkward, but Nick’s sure that once they’re there, the uncomfortable atmosphere will dissipate a little as it will no longer be just the two of them. He’s going to be completely out of his depth, of course, but that’s par for the course, and as the newcomer to the family, no-one’s going to expect him to be the life and soul of the party in a hurry. At least, he really hopes not. As they pull up to the drive, Gloria begins to speak again and with the taxi idling outside the door, they work out a few last minute details so that they don’t end up giving all the relatives two subtly different versions of the same story. They don’t need to know everything about each other, this fake relationship doesn’t have to have been going on very long. There’s no need to fake true love and wedding bells on the horizon, just enough of a familiarity not to be suspicious. Although, Nick thinks as they walk in through the front door and he sees the vast amounts of alcohol around the place, he doesn’t think that anyone’s going to be in a position to call attention to anything suspicious any time soon.

“I’ll try and keep you close as much as possible,” Gloria says. “It would be unfair to leave you to be mobbed by all my relatives.”

She introduces him to everyone in short order, and Nick knows that he hasn’t got a cat in hell’s chance of remembering any names, so he just decides to be the arm candy that he was hired to be, keeping his mouth shut as much as possible and listening politely to all the conversations going on that he really doesn’t understand. People are talking about investments and banking on one side and probing Gloria for information about her future plans on the other side, and Nick can quite see why she needed an ally for the evening. It must be incredibly daunting for anyone to come here alone and be met with such a barrage of information and questioning from well-meaning family members who don’t really mean all that well. The main person that he has to fend off is Gloria’s grandmother, who seems to have taken quite a shine to him. Then again, from what Gloria’s told him, she would probably take a shine to any man that Gloria turned up with for the simple reason that he has the ability to get her granddaughter pregnant and produce some great-grandchildren.

“I’ve tried telling her at least sixty times that I don’t want kids, at least not until I’m thirty,” she mutters once they finally manage to extricate themselves from Grandma Miller’s grasp and are hiding out of the way of everyone behind the grandfather clock in the hall. Gloria’s on her third glass of champagne already and she knocks back the dregs. “I really hate these things. But I’m very glad you’re here.”

“I haven’t exactly done much,” Nick points out. “I’m just quiet and respectable boyfriend Hamish.”

“I know, but you exist tangibly which is the main thing, and I can always talk to you and block out everyone else. And I can complain about all my relatives to you and you won’t be offended.”

Nick laughs. “No, although you might be if I share my opinions of some of them to you. It’s all right when you’re complaining about your own family but it’s a different thing if it’s someone else doing it. It’s a bit like Scotland, I suppose. We all make disparaging remarks about various bits of our culture but as soon as someone south of the border makes those same comments, well…”

Gloria smiles. “Yeah, I know what you mean.” She glances back towards the living room where most of the party is gathered, and she sags in her high heels a little. “Do we have to go back in?”

Nick shrugs. “It’s your party and your time,” he reminds her. “I’ll just go along with whatever you do.”

Gloria looks at him sideways, twirling the stem of her champagne flute between her fingers.

“You don’t like these events, do you?”

“Honestly? No. I’m not usually first choice for this kind of thing. But I’m here.”

“Yeah, we’re both here and we’re both miserable. Come on, let’s hide. We’re both consenting adults and apparently in love, I don’t think anyone’s going to come looking for us.”

Gloria grabs his hand and leads him up the stairs; from some of the noises coming from behind closed doors, they’re not the only ones who have decided to leave the party and get up to no good. Although, Nick reasons, he doesn’t know what this particular little excursion with Gloria is going to lead to. She takes him into a small bedroom, a little bleak and sparse, no personal touches in it.

“It’s my room when I stay over,” she explains, opening the window to let some cool night air in and sitting on the windowsill, rummaging around in her little clutch bag and taking out cigarettes and a fancy lighter. “Do you mind?”

Nick shakes his head. “Not at all. I brought my own.”

Gloria laughs and pats the windowsill across from her, offering her lighter, and Nick takes it. The first drag is just what he needs after the tension in the party downstairs.

“Your name’s not really Hamish, is it?” Gloria asks presently.

“No. But I’d rather not tell you what it really is.”

“Fair enough.”

This moment here, sitting smoking in a room lit only by moonlight, is the most comfortable and relaxed that Nick’s been with Gloria all evening, and the silence that settles between them isn’t awkward like it had been before. There’s an unspoken understanding between them; he’s not really sure where it came from but it’s there and it’s nice. It’ll make the rest of the time go easily.

Gloria finishes her cigarette and leans back in the window, looking out over the vast garden beyond, and occasionally glancing back at him, her head on one side, considering him. Nick raises an eyebrow.

“What’s up?”

“I’m wondering whether it would be bad form to kiss you,” Gloria says frankly, and whilst Nick wasn’t sure what he was expecting, he’s fairly certain it wasn’t that. “Because you’re not at all how I was expecting and you’re very handsome, and I’d like to kiss you.”

Nick certainly wouldn’t mind if she kissed him. She’s certainly very lovely and his feelings towards her are positive, rather than the usual neutrality he tends to maintain with clients. He likes her.

“I’d be up for that,” he admits.

“I’m glad.”

She’s firm in her kiss, she knows what she wants, and she tastes of smoke and alcohol like so many women do. She smells expensive, like so many women do. But she’s different somehow. There’s a realness to her, which is ironic considering that the entire time he’s been with her he’s been playing a role. But there’s no pretence to her now, not like the bright, smiling, perfect daughter she had been downstairs. He likes her, it’s as simple as that, and that makes this experience so much more enjoyable for all the many, many times he has done it.

So he keeps kissing her, and she keeps kissing him back, and there’s a champagne brightness in her eyes when she pulls away, a brightness that Nick recognises all too well. It’s a good job that Liz warned him to bring condoms just in case.

“We should probably get back to the party.”

They’re sitting in Gloria’s four-foot single bed, Nick at the head and Gloria leaning against the wall, propped up on pillows, the ashtray on the covers between them. He doesn’t really have any desire to move, and he knows that whatever time they get back to the party, people are going to be giving them looks that immediately say that they know what they got up to whilst they were absent, but Nick really couldn’t care less about that, and to all intents and purposes, Gloria doesn’t seem to care too much about it either. But the clock is ticking down, and soon he’ll have to leave because her payment will have run out.

“Aye, we probably should.”

It’s with obvious reluctance that Gloria gets out of the bed and puts her clothes back on without self-consciousness and Nick follows her lead. Once they get back down into the main party room, it’s clear that a lot of the guests have already left. They get the usual looks, a mixture of disapproval from some of the elderly relatives and indulgent ‘they’re hot-blooded young things’ sentiment from the others. Gloria’s mother chastises her for skipping out on so much of the party and Nick listens to her deflect the veiled barbs in a wonderful display of passive aggression that he couldn’t have bettered himself. Finally, she manages to get him out of the door and into a taxi that’ll take him back to the Palace.

“Thank you,” she says as they part. “For everything. I’ve had fun tonight. Well, the bits when we weren’t at the party were fun. And the party was less awful than usual. So thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

The taxi slides quietly into the night, and Nick glances back over his shoulder through the rear window at Gloria standing in the driveway, and he wonders if he’ll ever bump into her again.

It’s a new year and a new term and a couple of months have passed with Nick trying very much not to think about Gloria when he sees her suddenly, and suddenly, everything changes and he has no idea what to do with himself because he’s walking in one direction with his coffee and she’s walking in the other direction with her violin case and it’s inevitable that they’re going to meet in the middle of the street. She recognises him just before they collide with each other and smiles.

“Hello. How are you?”

Nick’s still somewhat stunned but manages to answer.

“Fine, thanks. You?”

“I’m good. It’s been a little while, hasn’t it?”

No-one would know that they were talking about an escorting appointment, but either way, it’s clear that they remember each other and they have been thinking about each other in the interim. Nick’s not the best at small talk, something that Liz has despaired of in the past, but they chat for a couple of minutes.

“Do you maybe want to get a coffee later?” she asks presently.

“I…” He really doesn’t know what to say to that because he does want to, but at the same time… “You know what I do in my spare time,” he warns her.

Gloria nods. “I do. It’s how we met, remember.” She shrugs. “It’s just coffee.”

Just coffee. He can do just coffee. God, he spends so much of his working life around the opposite sex that one would think that he’d know what to say to them when he meets one he knows in the street. He nods.

“All right then. That sounds good. Tuesday night?”

“Great. Although there’s one thing. I know you’re not called Hamish, but can I maybe get your actual name before we meet again?”

Nick gives a snort of laughter. “It’s Nick.”

“Pleased to meet you, Nick. I’ll see you Tuesday.”

It’s a beginning of something, Nick’s pretty sure of that as they continue down the road on their separate ways. It’s a pretty strange beginning, and he’s not sure what it’s the beginning of yet, but it’s definitely a beginning.

#SGU fic #woodelf68 #NickxGloria #Dr Nicholas Rush #Gloria Rush

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