Character/Pairing: David Tennant/Jules (aka diapadme)
Word count: 6748
Beta: bossygenius - more or less ^^
The story of how Jules met David - a second time. And somehow fate has more in store for them than they ever thought. Will there ever be a happy ending?
While making a rather hasty step backwards, she found the ground beneath her heels not as hard as she remember. Let's add the growing headache to the fact that she did not realise she might not even stand ON said ground until she heard a yelp. With a shriek, she jerked up her foot and tried to twirl around to face whomever she had probably broken several toes. Let's just say, filled trays do not go well with twirls of any sort.
OK, here it is. It's long. Bloody hell it's long. I don't know what exactly happened. It will have a third part ... maybe even more because out of no where the plot bunnies are attacking and I dearly hope Jules forgives me for using her ... well ... I guess she will.
The ending is sappy like no tomorrow and I blame that 100% on THIS amazing vid - go, watch it, nao! It just so happens that I was in the middle of writing the end and somehow my play list kept repeating the song!
anyway. I hope this does not suck as much as I believe it does ... and Jules, please get well soon! I hope this makes you feel better! I hate it that you're ill!
Busy was the word of the day, that much was clear. From being shot out of bed by her roommates frantic yelp (she had somehow managed to get caught in the cable of her blow-dryer while using it and ... well, it had not been a pretty sight), over running errands involving job application-deliveries, transferrals, shopping and other things along those lines to arriving at her temporary work place - a rather posh bar that had her working as a waitress from 6 pm to 1 am straight- At least the tips were good.
"Yes, I know you ordered another pint and a Baileys for your lady, Jeff", she nearly yelled across the room at one of the more frequent visitors, Jeff. She knew she could shout at him. He was at the Bar at least three times a week, always a new "Lady Friend" by his side, always just drinking beer while ordering the more expensive beverages for his escort.
Balancing a tray overflowing with empty glasses on her left hand, she tried to wipe a newly-vacated table with her right. Her arms were aching, not to mention her feet. It was days like these, the few occasions the boss of her boss turned up for an "inspection", that she hated most. It meant less brakes, less money (because tips had to be given to him for "safe keeping" until ... well, you never saw them again.) and dead feet (the original uniform included a pair of rather high healed shoes - do I need to say more?).
Cursing under her breath for the gazillions time this night, she dropped the filled tray as forceful as she dared without harming the glasses on the counter behind the bar so they could be washed. Looking around quickly, she tumbled to a nearby chair and dropped into it, pulling her shoes of in a hurry.
So this was what her life in England had come to? Well, maybe she wasn't in any condition to write up complains to the boys upstairs - right now she would find something wrong with about everything that crossed her path. But still. She couldn't keep on living of sometimes-tips for the rest of her life especially when she should be studying by now. Her transferral papers had been finished months ago. But for some reason, she still hadn't got the "OK" and so she had to somehow earn a living - even if it was a poor one.
But not everything was bad ... she had met the most amazing people in the last 3 months and this included her sometimes quite deranged roomy, Rebecca. Jules smiled in font memory. Yep, definitely worth the aching feet, this new country and life.
"Jules!" Jules jumped to her feet so quickly, she nearly lost her balance and knocked over the freshly whipped up cream in a container next to her.
"Shit!" She was about to drop to her knees and gather the mess, when she saw the worried glance of her co-worker, Miles. "What?! Don't just stand there, help me. Get a broom or something!", she snapped.
"No, wait, let me ... The Pear is just round the corner. You better get those shoes back on and a smile on those pouty lips or we'll be waving you goodbye for good tonight," came his urgent reply. Jules swallowed. "Pear" was what they called the big boss thanks to his ... well, pear-shaped, hairless head; there was no way around it.
Quickly, she scrambled away from the white mess and snatched up her shoes. Hopping her way over to the door back to the waiting room on one foot, she shoved her throbbing toes into one shoe, using the same method for the next one.
"Which of my tables?", she asked Mary, one of the bartenders, hurriedly while picking up another full try. Seriously, how much were people able to drink?
Halfway into the room did she realise that she had never heard Mary answer, so she turned around again, trying to catch which way to go. Mary, though, seemed to not have heard her in the first place. She was staring with an adoring gaze at a point right behind Jules shoulder.
"Mary!" Jules barked as loud as she dared - do not scare off the costumers. She was still walking into the general direction where most of her tables were located while trying to catch Mary's eyes.
To say it was cliché would probably fit. It was a busy night, she had kissed her nerves goodbye hours ago, it was loud, she could feel a headache coming, her feet hurt ... who could blame her for not keeping her full attention on everything at the same time? So, back to the cliché part. Of course she stumbled into someone.
While making a rather hasty step backwards, she found the ground beneath her heels not as hard as she remember. Let's add the growing headache to the fact that she did not realise she might not even stand ON said ground until she hard a yelp. With a shriek, she jerked up her foot and tried to twirl around to face whomever she had probably broken several toes. Let's just say, filled trays do not go well with twirls of any sort.
"Oh my god! I am so sorry, sir! You have no idea! I ... I ..." she swallowed hard. "David?"
The by now rather rumbled looking male looked up from where he had tried to safe his white shirt which had been soaked in the bigger amount of a filled red whine glass. It was a lost battle.
But the red shirt was apparently soon forgotten as he stared at Jules, eyes wide. Great, he does not remember. Why should he. Now I just seem, again, like the idiot-fangirl that I am. Probably better anyway ...
"Erm, sorry. I just ... I just recognised your face. Still, I am really sorry for what happened, sir. Of course your bill is on the house tonight and we will pay for everything else. I am just a clumsy mess and really should watch where I'm going. Is there something else I can do for you? I mean, apart from ruining your outfit, of course, which really looked ... great tonight but, well, we don't want to repeat that now, do we? And I hope I did not damage any of your toes. I stepped on them, too, right? Gosh, I'm really a klutz ..."
During the course of her babbling, she had bent down and tried to gather the largest pieces without cutting herself. Sure, it wasn't the first time she had dropped something, it was quite normal, actually. But not under such embarrassing circumstances - not to mention she normally did not ramble like that.
A hand on her arm stopped her. "Take a breath, Jules."
David had gotten down himself and was watching her with a slight grin and a twinkle in his eyes.
"You ... you remember me?" Now Jules felt floored - which fitted the situation rather nicely, she thought.
"Heaviest rain fall in all of Britain this year, a wet girl stomping through the rain, a certain white top ... how could I forget?" He winked, but before she was able to either blush or respond, the feared voice of The Pear shot down to them.
"What is going here? Jules, what have you done now?" Both she and David got up and Jules had to suppress a rather snide remark that would remind her boss that she had one of the lowest drop-rates of all the waitresses.
"Oh, really, it's nothing." It was David who replied. "I mean, this shirt probably won't make it past tonight but I can live with that. Not to mention I did stand around rather stupidly. It's not her fault."
It was not surprising that The Pear was already somewhere else with his gaze. It would not look good in front of the customer (and a rather famous one at that) to go down on his employee and friendliness was not exactly in his expertise, he nodded once and left them with a "Well, but make sure you get this mess cleaned, girl."
Jules, the tray with the broken glass pieces still in her hand, let out a breath she had not realised she'd been holding.
"So that was your boss, eh?"
"Yep, right the cheery fellow, wouldn't you say?" She looked up at David and a moment later, both of them burst out laughing. Now this reminded her of the David she had got to know while sitting in his car, waiting for the botoxed rain to stop. They laughed together easily, it simply was a fact.
"What are you doing here? I thought you were here on a holiday", he asked when their laughter had sub seeded and Jules found herself, all of a sudden, in a quick but warm embrace. Gosh he smelled nice. It definitely was the same scent she had smelled in his towel all those weeks, no, months ago. And he looked amazing. Not that he hadn't when she'd last seen him, in his car, a rather dazed look on his face after he had snogged her (and himself, apparently) senseless. But tonight he just looked every bit the celebrity he was. White shirt (collar open, of course, and she did her best not to stare at the hairs peeking out from underneath - not for too long anyway.) and a black suit jacket together with a surprisingly simple pair of jeans - dazzling.
"Jules?" His voice brought him back and she did her best to fight down the colour that made its way to her cheeks and neck.
"Oh, right, sorry. Zoned out there for a bit." She bit her lip. Yes, they did laugh together easily but just as easy, a weird tension was between them. Mostly, it was coming from her, unsurprisingly, but the very last moment before he had driven off, it had been him. He had kissed her, out of the blue and then nearly shoved out of his car before driving off at top speed and right now, she lively remembered that moment. How his lips had pressed against hers, had moved, the way his hand had woven into her still damp hair, his fingertips pressing against her scalp, pushing her against him, feeling the lightest bit of his tongue brush against her lips before, just as quickly, he had let go, maybe even more shocked by his actions than she had been.
It was more than a little weird to act around him now - at least that was how she felt like now. How do you react to something like that? Not to mention that, when she looked at him, she still got that fluttery feeling, the one you get when you see someone famous. It was all, once again, very confusing. Story of my life, it seems ...
"Right ..." Why was he looking at her so eager? He surely wasn't here alone. "Actually, long story, me being here - again. You sure you don't have to get back to your ... date." She was sure nearly-wincing while saying the word did not make the best impression. Great, why did she have to say it? It would have been so much smarter to just take his arm, drag him off and talk to him for hours again. Brilliant move, duffo. How about those awards, again? Nominations still up?
"What makes you assume I have a date with me? Can't a bloke enjoy a night out by himself?" Jules narrowed her eyes and looked at him, hard. Was he having her on? She'd rather not embarrass herself further but before she came to a decision, they were once again interrupted.
"Really, far is it from me to break up this lovely chat but for starters, poor Mary over there is nearly having a seizure watching you two and, secondly, Jules, I know this probably is the worst thing to say right now but you still have a job to finish."
This time, it was Pete. Thank god. He probably was the only reason she still had this job and still wanted it. He was her boss, the one under The Pear, maybe, but still. He had been the one to give her the job, he gave her the money, he was her job. A little quirky and no one was exactly sure if he was straight, bi or gay but actually that made him just the more lovable.
Once again, it was David who reacted way faster than her. Really, if she ever wanted to make it clear that her IQ was above that of a flubberworm, she would have to get this whole 'connect things, act accordingly, FAST' thing down with more ace.
"Well if it isn't Pete, the randy dog. Haven't seen you around in a while!" To Jules utter amazement, they didn't even shake hands, they just dove in head first and hugged. Long. And loudly. With David's focus on her boss - as weird as that sounded, she turned towards the bar to see what Pete had meant about Mary. She was staring at them, a pint overflowing with beer in her one hand, the other one still bravely pushing down the leaver. The expression on her face could probably be best described with the 'jaw hit floor' mental image.
Poor thing. She had never believed it when Jules had told her she had 'met' David Tennant.
It had been two hours. TWO BLASTED hours since David and Pete had vanished to Pete's office. Two hours in which she had to reassure a nearly-in-tears Mary that yes, she would introduce her to David if they got the chance (and she'd be damned if that chance ever came to be.), two hours which had her clearing another three messes on the floor (this time thanks to Jeff's rather loud ex-date and another guest knocking over two table on his way out), two more hours for her feet to cut any sort of connection to her brain so that she, by now, did not feel anything anymore.
Two hours of her knowing David Tennant was more or less next to her but she still couldn't talk to him. Damn. This day really wasn't her best.
"Mary, what are you still doing here? You're shift ended like -" a quick look over her shoulder confirmed it. "Like 90 minutes ago!"
Jules was outside, emptying an overflowing rubbish bin with more force than strictly necessary. Leaning against the wall was Mary, holding on to her cigarette as if it saved from drowning and looking a little cheesy.
When Mary failed to answer, Jules gave her a stern look. "You are not seriously still waiting for David Tennant to come back from wherever he vanished to?" It would do no one any good to mention that, by this point, she had told the second waitress, Gloria, she could have an early night and that she would take her night-shift. Really, who cared? Mary wouldn't, just like her feet. She was sure.
"I'm sorry ..." Her co-worker trailed off with a rather dazed expression and even seemed to sway a little. How long had she been here? Jules shook her head.
"Listen Mary", she started, biting her lip for a moment while regarding the other girl. "I promise you, honestly, if he comes back out I'll ask him for an autograph just for you, OK? But you need to get home! I won't have you collapsing on the street or anything. You've been here for hours, ever since we opened and I can see how you barely keep yourself upright so please, listen to me and -" Mary throwing her cigarette away, stomping it out in a rather offending way and turning around puts an end to her tirade. Jules was not exactly sure what she did wrong and when Mary simply walked away without turning around she weakly called after her: "I'm just worried, 's all ..."
Great. Now she has officially scared two people off with her babbling. In less than three hours. New personal record.
With a huff, she grabs the emptied rubbish bin and drags her dead feet back inside. After putting away the bin, she takes her place behind the counter, intending to fill 3 ordered pints when she feels a hand on her own (as she was wiping the table on her way to the beer tabs).
"There you are. And here I thought I'd let Pete bore me so long your shift had ended."
Jules let her eyes stay on the counter for a moment, trying to calm herself. So he was still here, after all. Damn this man.
"Yep, that's me, still here, working like a horse ..."
"A very pretty one, though." Hearing this, Jules rose her eyes up to meet his with a slightly unbelieving frown on her face. "I'm not sure, David, if you calling me a pretty horse is a compliment or not ..." they looked at each other for a moment before, once again, breaking out in loud laughter. What exactly was so hilarious, they both didn't really know. But it felt good, to laugh with him like that, Jules decided. It felt a little like it did, back in his car with no one else around, his full attention on her ... gosh, she had to stop thinking about this whole situation like ... as if ... as if it was something. Like there was something to think about.
She saw this bloke for the second time in her life. Sure, it did not feel that way in the slightest. Too long had she followed his life through every mean possible. But still, thinking about it rationally (which was not exactly easy at this point) this was a man (good looking as he was) nearly twenty years her senior, she had seen him twice now (and, yes, they had kissed ... or more, he had kissed her ... she had been way to shell-shocked to react back then) and, quite frankly, she did not know him at all. So, thinking that whatever was going on was something to waste thoughts on was simply ridiculous.
"So, now tell. What are you still doing here?" Jules was thankful his voice brought her out of the dangerous turn her thoughts kept trying to make. Grabbing an empty pint, she started filling it with beer while David settled on one of the barstools in front of her.
"Not much to tell, really", she started while letting her eyes stray all over the room. She was glad to notice that the activity was dying down slowly. "After my pretty disastrous first day here," at that she looked back at David to see him raise one of his eyebrows and open his mouth to surely form a protesting "Oi!" but he refrained himself.
"Well", she continued. "I actually had a wonderful time here. And yes, it was only a holiday. But I fell in love with the UK. So when I got back home, I did everything I could think of to get back here and so I transferred to a university here, found a flat, a room mate, a job and here I am." She had finished filling the three pints and loaded them on a nearby tray.
"So you've started university here?" David sounded impressed, that was sure. Jules nodded with a wide smile. When David looked like he wanted to ask something else, she gestured to the filled tray.
"Oh, don't let me keep you" he laughed and held up his hands in a defensive manner. Jules grinned again. "Be back in a sec ..."
As quickly as possible, she dropped of the ordered beers and made her way back to the bar. It maybe was a little childish but she somehow feared that the started conversation had gone down the drain while she was away. That maybe David had lost interest in talking to her.
"How do you like studying here, then?" she heard his voice even before she was back behind the bar. Right, so no lost interest on his side either. IF only she could somehow stop her mind analysing every little thing he did and said. A small smile on her lips, she closed her eyes for a second, took a deep breath and let it out again before resuming her position and the conversation. No matter what this was, it was amazing and she would not waste a second.
"So you are telling me that you honestly never felt weird about dating the daughter of Peter Davidson?"
A round of slightly drunk giggles followed this statement made by Pete. It was about 3 o'clock in the morning, the tables had been cleared, the counter had been cleaned and all the guests and staff had left except the little group now seated in the most comfortable corner of the bar.
Jules, taking small sips of her second Martini, regarded the two males beside her. Both of them had, by now, drunk a little too much and the questions asked got bolder with each passing minute. She felt a little dizzy herself, not being one known to drink a lot, but very comfortable. She only wished she could forgo the shoes already.
"What is that supposed to mean?" David asked Pete in return, gesturing wildly with his arms.
When asked how she came to sit with her boss and David Tennant in a closed bar in the middle of the night, the answer would have contained lots of pauses filled with the occasional "Er" or "uh" because, by now, she honestly couldn't remember any more. She and David had talked. Talked longer than she ever expected. She had even remembered to ask him for an autograph to give to Mary! At some point, The Pear had left and soon after, the few costumers still hanging about had taken their leave, too. While she and the two remaining waitresses had cleaned the main room, David had gone off with Pete again. When he reappeared, shortly before she was about to leave for the night, she had been rather surprised to be asked to join him and Pete for one last drink. Needless to say, one drink transformed into many.
"Oh David, seriously, do not tell me you are turned on by a little blond girl, winking at you and saying something like 'Who's my Daddy'" This time, Jules had to set her drink back on the table so hard was her laughter. "No .... no", she gasped in between giggles, one hand on her chest trying to control her breathing and sticking her tongue out at a slightly red David next to her. "David is one of the really kinky guys. He had her say 'Who's my Doctor'!"
Pete nearly lost his balance (and he was sitting down) and gripped the table for support. Jules laughed just as hard, only dimly aware that laughing at ones own jokes wasn't the most appealing behaviour. But no one seemed to notice as both, her and Pete, had their eyes on David who first tried to look annoyed but soon enough, he too, was cracking a smile.
"Yeah, I suppose ..."
"HA!" both Pete and Jules threw their balled fists into the air and let go of what could only be described as a slightly evil cackle.
"Oh, come on. It's not that bad. And, really, age is nothing but a number ..." David's meagre attempt at an excuse was met with more giggles and he threw up his hands in surrender. "All right, all right! You two win. I am the most sorry excuse for Scottish lad to walk this earth."
Jules, still overcome with giggles, grabbed her glass and held it high. "I'll drink to that!"
Though this time the protesting "OI!" was spoken out loud, David, along with Peter, held up his own drink and after a quick toast ("Here's to David finally admitting defeat!") the three of them downed their drinks in one go.
The three of them continued some sort of near-silent giggling contest until Pete suddenly rose to his feet.
"All right, I have to say, this was certainly a most entertaining evening but ... I have to be here again in about 6 hours and I guess you can imagine I am long overdue to ... what am I talking about. I'm bloody tired and need my fluffy pillow."
Pete's words caused Jules to take a look at her own watch. "Shit!" Not very ladylike but, as had happened several times to and with several things this night, she was passed caring. "It's nearly 4am in the bloody morning!" Still staring at her watch, she shot to her feet only to realise her mistake moments later.
It wasn't so much that she was utterly drunk (which she wasn't. Not really anyway) but the alcohol she had had mixed with feet that, by now, had started to care again and protested with everything they had to carrying their owner, made her sway more then a little and only seconds later, she had fallen back on the couch underneath her. "Bloody hell ..." she murmured.
Pete eyed her for a moment, apparently unsure whether he could still just leave but David waved him away before rising himself and hugging his friend goodbye. "It was great seeing you again."
"I can only give that one back, David. Take care of my employee for me and don't be a stranger, will you?"
Jules watched Pete go and drowsily waved in his general direction while unsuccessfully trying to finally remove the offending footwear still attached to her feet. She looked up when she felt the couch next to her shift. "Pete must trust you a great deal if he leaves you alone in here in the middle of the night with ... well, with me." Jules let go of her shoe and looked at David. She swallowed. Maybe it was the alcohol but somehow the look on his face seemed intense all of a sudden. And he was nearer to her than he had been since they kissed in his car.
"I ...I" Get a grip! "We've done this a couple of times already. I mean, it's not like I'm new here or anything." her voice trailed off when she saw David bending down and picking up both her feet.
"Oh, I'm sure he can trust you. I would." He smiled at her, then, while gently laying her feet down on his lap and removing her shoes.
"Gosh, how many hours have you been wearing these things?" He tossed her left shoe away and removed the other one. Lightly he moved his hands over her toes. "No wonder you can't stay upright. Do you have to wear these to work?"
He looked at her then and for the first time since he had picked up her feet, she started breathing again. "Erm ... Yeah, yeah we do. But only of The Pear is here. Pete lets us wear normal shoes." Her smile was more then a little shaky but he returned it nonetheless.
Gently, his eyes still on her face, David started to rub her feet. First the left one with small, soft rubs that nearly tickled and had her squirming her feet on his lap a few times.
"Yeah, would have been surprised if Pete would torment his girls like that. Got yourself a really good boss there." He moved to her right foot, repeating his former actions and instead of answering, a small sigh flew over Jules lips. David caught her gaze and grinned. "You must be tired."
Sure she was. Jules nearly snorted. David Tennant had her practically sitting on his lap, rubbing her feet in a way that at least she thought of her highly stimulating. Right. All she wanted right now was her bed.
The moment the word "bed" flashed through her mind, it conjured up images she had not dared to dwell on, yet. Images of her and him and ... don't even go there she warned herself sternly.
"No, I'm not." She finally replied with a tilt of the head, once again biting her bottom lip.
When she saw David's eyes trail away from her eyes and to her lips, she came to a decision. She had to know. Had to know if this was all in her imagination or if he was ... behaving the way he did for a certain reason. She silently thanked Pete for giving her a second Martini as well as let her be alone with David.
Right. So she had come to her decision. That certainly did not mean she had any sort of idea how to accomplish ... well, not to mention she didn't even know what she wanted to accomplish exactly. Oh my, wasn't she the Sherlock Holmes.
The silence between them grew longer and longer and though it wasn't exactly unpleasant, it was not relaxing either. He was still massaging her feet and Jules found herself transfixed by the movement of his hands. She followed his movement for minutes and more often than not forgot to breathe again. Her mouth felt dry and she suddenly wished for another drink. Every now and then, she could not help but move her feet. He sometimes hot just the spot to make her squirm and a few times, when this happened, she was nearly sure she saw him squeeze his eyes shut for just a second, silently taking a deep breath. But she couldn't be sure (not to mention the possibilities that'd open should it be true). It was dark in the bar now. Only a few lights had been left casting soft light and definitely adding to the tension filled atmosphere.
"Right, so, this should do the trick!" David's voice was loud and cut through the dreamlike sequence like a freshly sharpened knife. Jules felt a little shaken and stared at him.
"Yes ... right ...", she bit her lip again, though unconsciously. "Thank you. I guess now they can carry me home just fine." They looked at each other a while longer and Jules tried her best to read what was running through his mind.
When she failed to find an answer, she sighed and made to lift her feet off his lap. "Thank you, again. My feet will always be grateful for this, believe me. They won't forget." She was about to grin at him but it froze on her features when he hastily held on to her feet, not letting her move them an inch. Suddenly, the tension that had been in the room for a while now became nearly unbearable.
Jules felt herself unable to move, not only because he held onto her feet for dear life, but also because his gaze was binding.
She knew what was coming even before he started to move towards her. Again, his actions were quick. He leaned over and used his left hand to cup the back of her neck while dragging her nearer to him with his right, pulling her more or less completely on his lap. His face leaned in, eyelids fluttering and Jules felt fireworks explode inside her.
Mere inches from her lips, he suddenly stopped. They stared at each other, noses nearly touching as well as lips.
"What is this ..." Jules finally whispered, still frozen on the spot.
"I don't know", he replied and a moment later, his lips touched hers. For a moment only, Jules was frozen again before she threw caution to the wind and kissed him back, let her lips move over his, remembering what it felt like to be touched this intimately by David.
She wound her hands into his hair, like she had longed for for so long and felt his hand lightly travel up her leg, over her thigh, her hip to rest on her waist, lightly stroking the fabric of her top.
For a few moments, all they did was brush their lips in a nearly innocent fashion until Jules couldn't take it any more.
Honestly, here she was, snogging David Tennant, again, not knowing what the hell was going on (and apparently neither did he). Might as well make the best of it. Cautiously, she opened her moth and let her tongue brush against his lips.
To say that she expected to suddenly find herself underneath the man, his hands roaming more boldly than ever and his tongue working wonders with hers, would be a lie. No, she did not expect it in the slightest and so it was not surprising she yelp in shock for a moment. Well, not so much yelp as ... give some sort of notion of surprise. Her lips were, after all, still pressed to his. Made yelping a little difficult.
But David seemingly had noticed nonetheless for she felt his lips form a slight grin before he started kissing her in earnest.
His tongue sliding against her own, his fingers moving inch by inch underneath Jules top, her hands never resting, first in his hair, then on his back. He tasted like red whine and oddly enough, chips and something she couldn't place.
Finally giving in to her bodies urgent demand for air, she wrenched her lips from his, gulping in the stale air around them. He was panting by now, himself, but that did not stop him from trailing kisses along her jaw, down her neck, on the little bit of exposed cleavage.
Albeit still caught up in the moment, the air did clear her head a little, though she was unsure whether to welcome this or not because immediately her mind started reeling, shouting at her to think what was going on, to analyse what was happening. She didn't want to, just wanted to enjoy the moment, wanted to enjoy David. She was successful in shoving most of the babbling voices in her head away and gratefully sunk back into the feeling of his hands, one by now tracing the underside of her bra-covered breast, his mouth sucking her earlobe into his mouth, his tongue flicking it every now and again.
But though she was able to silence most of them, one was still booming loud in her head. It was like a god damn flashing light, really. You're about to have sex with David Tennant and no idea WHAT THE FUCK is going on! it read. And, actually, Jules thought ... it was right.
Suddenly, Jules needed clearance, needed to know what exactly was going on, before things went too far.
"David ... David, no wait ..." She didn't even need to push him off her, her words had been enough, breaking the weird spell that had befallen both of them. His head shot up and he looked at her, hands now on either side of her, holding him up and off of her.
"I'm ... I'm ..." David stuttered.
"No, don't apologize, by god, no. Just ... tell me what is going on!" David moved away from her and said down at the end of the couch. Jules pushed herself up as well and watched him drive his hands through his hair, sighing loudly.
"I ... I don't know what is going on, isn't that obvious?" He regarded her with a slightly panicked look. "I ... this is ... I should go." He made to get up but this time, Jules was determined to at least have him acknowledge something. She did not want to see him running away again.
"No you don't!" She snatched up his arm before he could make a run for it and forced him to sit back down again. "Tell me what this is. I have a right to know, you know." Brilliant, Jules, really. Pass by the shag of your life, seriously, brilliant work one corner of her mind remarked sarcastically and she nearly snapped at it to shut up.
"Yes, you do. But what am I to say to you when I haven't got a freaking clue myself?"
"Well, you've been the one kissing me!" Her voice grew louder than she intended it to.
"Oh, well, somehow I didn't hear you complaining!" he snapped back, apparently just as frustrated by the whole thing as she was.
"No, I wasn't I'm not doing so now but forgive me for feeling a little shaky about what is going on!" They probably made an odd sight. Both half sitting, half lying on the couch. Him with the huge red blotch on his shirt, she with no shoes on and her hair an utter mess.
"Couldn't you just ... enjoy the moment?"
Jules stared at him with her mouth open before closing it with a snap. "Well, then I guess I should say 'sorry I'm not one of the girls who lets herself get shagged just because you're David Tennant.'"
Oh this was so not going to way she had planned. Not at all. Not that she had had any particular plan in mind but ... this was definitely not it. She felt crushed. And used. Was this the 'real' David Tennant?
"I ... for once ... I have to go, sorry. I have to get away from here." She scrambled off the couch as fast as she could, grabbed her shoes and was halfway through the room when she heard his voice.
"NO!", she shouted back, her voice just a notch off hysteric. She heard him get up behind her and quickened her pace.
Just before she had reached the doors, he caught her wrist.
"Will you please just wait a moment?"
By now, Jules felt tears rising up, threatening to break through, but she stopped struggling.
"Here, you forgot these." As she had her gaze still on the deserted street outside the bar, she only felt him slip the keys into her hand. Great. Now she had made a fool of herself. She was not only a prude, she was stupid and unreliable, too.
"Thank you", she whispered.
"Will you please look at me for a moment?" His made her knees weak, there was no way around it. But she did not want to hear stupid excuses. She should have realised he was exactly like the worst tabloids said he was. "Please, Jules." She closed her eyes, the first tear lonely running down her cheek, his hand warm in hers. How could she not turn?
"Yes ...?" she was looking at him now, her chin up high in a stubborn gesture. His eyes held her gaze and they were warm and open and she nearly let herself be pulled into his deep gaze. But only nearly. He smiled. Not cocky, not happy, not manic. It seemed somehow sad.
Gently, he cupped her chin and rubbed his thumb over the wet trail the tear had left there.
"I did not mean it that way. I honestly hope you don't believe I am like that. This is crazy, what ever this is. We don't really know each other and that's neither my fault nor yours, it's just life. But you and I know both that ..." he was struggling for words, she could see it. "Whatever this is, it can't have a future, you and I both know it. Still I can't help it. The moment I saw you standing in that rain, soaked, and let me mention the see-through top again ... I just felt so drawn to you. I don't know what it is I just know that when I kissed you back in my car, it was completely out of some sort of stupid impulse I couldn't fight. And today it was the same and I'm so sorry for making you feel used in any way."
By now, more tears had run down her cheeks and she was blinking quickly to keep her vision free.
"Jules," and there it was again, the sad, crooked smile. "My secret companion ..." and with that, he leaned over, kissed her forehead and disappeared out the door, leaving her standing with a thumping heart, tears in her eyes, her legs nearly giving out, clutching the keys to the bar in one hand and a small bracelet in the other.
How it had ended up there, she couldn't recall. But she clutched it to her chest nevertheless.
"Damn you, David McDonald."