Characters: Sarah, Becker
Summary: Damn him and his ridiculously appealing good looks...
Beta read by fififolle and fredbassett
The painstaking task of cleaning the artefact wasn’t keeping Sarah nearly as occupied as she would have liked. At least not mentally. The trouble was, she’d been doing this sort of work since her student days and the sheer amount of practise had given her an instinctive touch. She could have almost literally done it in her sleep, which wasn’t good when she was trying to keep her mind off other things.
Namely, annoyingly good looking captains who she really shouldn’t be thinking about in that way.
Okay, so there wasn’t exactly a rule about it as far as she was aware. Nowhere in Lester’s patronising welcoming speech had he mentioned that she wasn’t allowed to fancy the staff. But still, it was just...well, kind of embarrassing really. She was supposed to be here due to her expertise. She was supposed to be impressing the others with her intellect. She did not want them mainly commenting on how she was making doe eyes at the head of security.
It wasn’t like she was in love with him or anything equally ridiculous. She didn’t even know him that well and, from what she did know, he didn’t exactly seem like promising boyfriend material. He was cocky, very full of himself and far too confident. She had no intention of massaging his ego any further by letting slip that she fancied him.
That didn’t seem to stop her wanting to push him into the nearest empty room and do naughty things to him though.
She blamed her hormones. She’d been single for a while, her job having left her either travelling too much or simply not enough time for dating. Things had actually got worse since coming to the ARC, her personal life was almost non-existent now. It was hardly surprising then that she was getting to the stage where she needed something so much that the nearest nice body seemed overwhelmingly desirable.
She also blamed him. She’d not even really thought about him like that until she’d almost literally bumped into him as he was coming out of the gym a week ago. Messy hair, sleeveless t-shirt clinging even tighter than usual, arms looking all muscular and gripable...
It was only the presence of other people in the corridor at the time that had warned her off the sudden and almost violent urge to throw herself at him.
She’d tried to dismiss it as a momentary lapse of sense and reason but, since then, she couldn’t help but notice him more. Even more annoyingly, he kept giving her reason to think that he wasn’t as much of a sod as he first appeared, at least not when she had him to herself. Then he was charming and friendly, nowhere near as egotistical as he first seemed.
Fancying him was fair enough, that she could deal with, but actually beginning to like him? She knew she was in trouble when she started mentally considering his eyes to be the more poetic sounding ‘dark chestnut brown’ rather than just ‘brown’. That could not be a good sign.
She sighed in latent frustration as she tried to concentrate on her work once more. She didn’t need this. She had enough things to be getting on with. Not to mention that her previous dating experience was mostly disastrous. She had to work with this guy and she couldn’t afford for things to get horrible awkward between them.
But, at the same time, there was that little voice that told her ‘nothing ventured, nothing gained’. And, a more wicked voice added, seeing what he had under that uniform was definitely a venture she’d like to undertake.
Next to her the small portable radio she’d acquired changed to an irritatingly cheerful tune, almost as if it was conspiring against her.
‘I know something about love
You’ve gotta want it bad
If that guy’s got into your blood
Go out and get him’
She glared crossly at the offending object.
“You are kidding,” she muttered with a shake of her head, trying to concentrate on the artefact instead.
She didn’t love him. That was ridiculous.
She just wanted him stripped, on her bed and adorned with strawberries and chocolate.
‘Tell him, tell him, tell him, tell him right now,’ the radio advised brightly.
“I don’t think so,” she responded with a scoff.
She was an adult, not some horny teenager. She needed to forget her silly crush and get on with her job.
The radio, it seemed, didn’t want to let her though.
‘Show him what the world is made of
One kiss will prove it’
“Oh, piss off,” she grumbled, petulantly knocking the radio off of the desk, taking some satisfaction from the way the cheap plastic bounced across the floor. That’d teach it not to encourage her.
It skidded out of the room and came to a stop right at Becker’s feet.
Sarah was instantly grateful that her complexion didn’t really allow a blush to show.
“You know,” he said nonchalantly, a smile on his face as he picked the radio up of the floor, “if you didn’t like the song you could have just changed the channel.”
She swallowed hard, knowing he couldn’t possibly have a clue about what she’d just been thinking and determined not to give herself away by acting weird.
“It was a really bad song,” she reasoned.
His smile remained as he walked into the room, placing the radio back on the desk next to her.
“That’s why I don’t listen to the radio; full of crap. You can borrow my mp3 player if you want. I’m sure there’s something on there you’d like.”
“Thanks,” she said, smiling sweetly before realising that she wasn’t meant to be flirting.
“So, any luck?” he asked, indicating the artefact.
She tried to ignore the way he moved round to stand behind her, peering through the magnifying lens, close enough that she could feel his body heat.
“No,” she said, relieved at how calm and even her voice sounded. “It got a little damaged in the fire so I have to be really careful. This is going to take a while.”
He nodded in understanding. “I’ll leave you to it then.”
As he headed towards the door, a mad impulse inside her didn’t want him to go and it made her speak without thinking.
He turned back, looking at her expectantly.
Instantly she cursed herself, struggling desperately for something to say. She certainly wasn’t going to ask him out but she had to think of something now or she’d look like a total idiot.
Then it struck her. It was almost ridiculous that she hadn’t asked before.
“What is your first name?” she asked with a frown.
He smiled, apparently not at all offended by the fact that she needed to ask.
“Alex,” he said.
“Nice,” was the first thing that sprung to her lips, the sentiment genuine. He did kind of look like an ‘Alex’ somehow. Then she smiled, teasing him. Flirting again. “Thought it might be something hideous like Theodore and that’s why you were keeping it a secret.”
His expression turned a little stony.
“Theodore was my grandfather’s name,” he replied dryly.
Sarah felt a momentary rush of mortification, mouth gapping wordlessly before she caught the unmistakable look in his eye.
“You’re winding me up,” she accused.
“Well, you’re sweet when you’re flustered,” he offered in way of an explanation before walking out of sight.
Sarah tried to ignore the oddly warm feeling inside, going back to concentrating on her work once more.
Out of the corner of her eye, the radio seemed to be looking at her expectantly.
“Well,” she insisted, knowing that it probably wasn’t a good sign that she was talking to an inanimate object, “that was a start, wasn’t it?”
If you were going to fantasise about someone, you should at least know their first name.