Work Header

"I'm too tired for crime solving"

Work Text:

You turned away from the desk, staring sadly at the two key cards in your hand. Two key cards for one room, a room that you were going to have to share with your intimidating boss that you have a crush on, and you didn't even pack your best pyjamas. There was also only one bed, but you were already prepared to take the floor, your body would just have to deal with it for a couple of nights, as you didn't see any way out. Now you had to explain to Gill, who was yelling into her phone, though upon noticing your awkward approach she wrapped up her conversation, looking at you expectantly, expecting you to hand her her key card for her separate room and then you could both go on your way, get some sleep after the long drive.
"Something went wrong with the booking," you could feel your face tense, like you were just waiting for her to yell at you. "There's only one room."
"Right well, worse things have happened," she looked at you for a beat longer. "There's something else, isn't there?"
"It's only a double bed."
"Oh," she paused, and then collected herself, heading towards the lifts. "Looks like we're sharing, then, unless you'd rather sleep on the floor?"
"I uh well no boss."
"That's settled then."

Awkwardness reigned as the two of you walked into the hotel room, and though Gill was trying to act as put together as usual you could tell that she was not altogether pleased with how this had worked out.
"Right I already gave you a rundown of the case so there's nothing to do today it's late anyway, so time for bed I suppose."
"I was just going to check my email, so you can take the bathroom first if you want."
"Okay," you turned and set your laptop up on the table, trying not to think about it, the fact that you had somehow ended up sharing a bed with her. You considered texting Janet, decided against it because you knew that she'd know something more was up than having to share with your boss, that your issue was worse than that. You thanked god for free WiFi, at least.

You sighed. Why did this have to happen when you hadn't brought your good pyjamas? Boxers and a tank top were not even weather appropriate, it was winter for god's sake, why could you never do the washing when you were supposed to? You spent a good ten minutes cursing your choice of sleepwear, stood in the middle of the small bathroom, knowing that the more time you wasted in here the more likely it was that your boss would be asleep and you wouldn't have to speak to her. She was at least wearing matching pyjamas, which she looked adorable in, all small and approachable. You wondered whether she was one of those people who radiated body heat when they were asleep, if she fidgeted or if she snored, and you realised that that was something that you were going to find out. You couldn't decide if that was a blessing or a curse, and left the room before you'd decided.

She'd turned her bedside lamp off so the only thing that was illuminating the room was the one behind her as she was facing the bathroom doorway, her eyes closed looking like she was already well on her way to sleep. Backlit as she was she looked so soft, her cheekbones casting deep shadows and her hair was slightly messy from where she'd obviously turned over to get comfortable. You slipped into bed as quietly as possible, attempting to move as little as possible as you settled down, trying not to get too close to her side or to disrupt her, even though you were fairly sure she probably wasn't already asleep. You turned the lamp off and ended up left with a soft orange glow from the street lights outside; neither of you had thought to shut the curtains, and when you turn on your side you can see the outline of her back, her slight frame seeming even tinier here, her shoulder blades clear against her shirt even in the dim light. At some point you fall asleep, and you're thinking about her when you do.

You're woken up by her phone alarm, distantly aware of her reaching out an arm to turn it off, and when she flops back onto the mattress you're aware that both of you are much closer than where you went to sleep, and you almost trick yourself into believing that you can feel her body heat, that you're warmer on that side. You are warm though, and you're already curling up ready to go back to sleep by the time she raises her head again. Neither of you are morning people but she rolls out of bed, and when you open your eyes you're struck again by how cute she looks, hair an absolute mess and pyjamas askew. You're momentarily distracted by her collarbones, and you want to laugh when she yawns, stretching, her face screwed up in a way that should make her look silly but somehow doesn't.
She looks at you, noting the way that you've spread out in the middle, and she sighs.
"I suppose I'll be first in the shower then." You grin at her and close your eyes, noting that by spreading out you’ve ended up on her side of the bed, and her pillow smells faintly of her perfume. You fall asleep again listening to her rustling about, digging through her suitcase for things, and when you wake up it’s to her distantly calling your name, already dressed apart from her suit jacket.
“Rachel, Rachel,” she rolls her eyes when you finally roll over to face her, but she’s standing awkwardly, as though she wasn’t sure if she’d be allowed to shake you into wakefulness or not.
“I’m awake,” you grumble, barely audibly, and she snorts, shaking her head, but then sits at the table in the corner, tapping away on her phone, probably solving a murder from all the way out here. You stay in bed until she starts glaring at you again, and then you laugh and start digging through your suitcase, grimacing at the fact that everything is creased and that you were expecting that to happen but in your hurry you didn’t pack things that you knew would survive the journey.

By the time you get back to the room it’s ridiculously late, and both of you flop onto the bed without even taking your shoes and jackets off, groaning about the late hour and the fact that you have to be up soon. After a long moment you kick off your shoes and struggle with your jacket, Gill laughing at you as you try to take it off without sitting up, until you manage to get it off and throw it across the room, rolling onto your side and trying to convince yourself not to fall asleep without getting changed first, while making no move to get up. Gill rolls over too and then you’re both laying at the end of the bed, legs tucked up, looking at each other, until she manages to force herself up, heading over to her suitcase.
“I’m warning you now, you’re first in the bathroom tomorrow morning,” she gives you her usual penetrating boss look and you groan, unable to come up with any foolproof reasons as to why you should get the extra time in bed. You would whine in protest but you know she won’t listen to you, so you just huff at her instead, trying valiantly not to fall asleep.
You get woken up by her prodding you in the shoulder, and you instinctively bat the hand away, rolling over to bury your face in the duvet.
“Are you always this hard to wake up?”
“Yes,” your voice was muffled by the fabric and she just sighs at you, but you’re pretty sure she’s smiling, you can hear it. You roll onto your back and she just shakes her head at you, so you move and head to the bathroom.

You distantly hear Gill’s alarm going off and you’re aware that something warm moves away, leaning across to turn it off, and then the warm thing is back and you’re smiling into your pillow but then you’re full of the realisation that the warm thing is Gill, Gill who is half-heartedly poking you but not moving away, and when you open your eyes you realise somehow you both ended up in the middle. Your head isn’t even on a pillow but your neck isn’t complaining, and she’s so close that you’re almost touching, close enough that if you just moved your arm that tiny bit you could hold her hand. You obviously do not do that because you want to leave here with a career but you do whine loudly and again resort to burying your head in your pillow, ignoring the fact that she was attempting to pummel your arm with her tiny ineffectual fist.
“Bloody hell Rachel what does it usually take to get you up in the morning?” she complains and you grin, glad to see that her Boss face doesn’t manage to stay impeccable this early in the morning.
“Fire alarm will do it, sometimes.”
“If you’re not careful I’ll set a fire just to get you up, I am not going to be late because of you.”
“Five more minutes,” you tried and she punched you again, harder, and then ended up resting her arm on you, not bothered to move it.
“No, now will you get in the bathroom?”
You groaned and opened your eyes again, facing her. “I’m too tired for crime solving.”
“Rachel Bailey I don’t believe you for a bloody minute now stop acting like a child,” she glared at you as best she could while half asleep and wearing pyjamas. “I will remove you from this bed using excessive force.”
“Seems you like mornings as much as I do,” you huffed. “No need to use your Boss voice,” and finally sat up, stretching and generally taking your sweet time about it until Gill huffed at you which you took as a warning to hurry up or she’d start yelling. You wondered where her ability to yell came from, considering how tiny she was.

“Erm Boss? Boss?” you stood awkwardly by the bed for a moment before prodding her lightly on the shoulder, getting the shock of your life when she grabs your hand without even opening her eyes. “I’m awake,” she mutters, dropping your hand and not opening her eyes, looking as though she definitely wasn’t awake.
“You don’t look particularly awake to me,” you grinned, knowing that you’re pushing it but that she’d let you, that she’d been letting you get away with it.
“Cheeky,” but she’s smiling and she cracks open an eye, and you’re aware of how tiny she looks, swamped by the huge bed, just her floating in the middle of it. It was tempting to get back into bed fully dressed. Temptation won out, and Gill looked surprised as you resumed your earlier position, then she just rolled her eyes at you.
"Ridiculous. You're an adult for pity's sake."
"I can answer my email on my phone while in bed. Not like I'd be doing anything helpful if I was sat up," you laughed and she just gave you another incredulous look then got out of bed, shaking her head in despair.

You were giggling inanely as you fell through the door, jubilant and drunk from celebrating the case cracked and the confession wrangled from the poor unsuspecting perp, and seeing Gill in action doing an interview had been an experience, it made you wonder what it had been like before, when that was what she used to do all the time, when going around the country doing people’s jobs for them was her job. You wished you’d been able to see it; you already knew she was magnificent but this was different, this was her working out an entire case in a few days, swooping in to save the whole thing at the last minute.
You’re both mumbling about something as you strip off jackets and shoes and collapse on the bed in a heap, but you’re not sure what it is, you just know that she’s lying close enough her arm is pressed against yours, and that you’re craving physical contact. Your head flops to the side while she’s still looking up at the ceiling, and you can’t help that your focus drifts from the vague conversation you’re attempting to have about ligature marks or something to focusing on her face, on those cheekbones that should be illegal, on her ridiculously sharp jaw.
“You’re staring,” she murmurs with a smile, letting her head drop to the side that you’re facing each other.
“How do you do that, you weren’t looking at me,” you whined petulantly, and she just smiles knowingly.
“I’m Godzilla, remember?”
“Godzilla doesn’t have a sixth sense.”
“Are you sure? I’m always getting my pop culture references mixed up.” You laughed at the way she ended up crossing her eyes at you, frowning intensely, and you pat her on the arm.
“It’s okay, you’ll get there eventually.”
“Don’t you patronise me Rachel Bailey,” she slurred and you laughed, much more than suitable, but you were happy and warm and she was here and actually seemed to be enjoying your company, all wobbly and soft and small.
“What?” she demanded, indignant, as though you could be laughing at her.
“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “I’m glad I’m here, I guess.”
“You should be, learning valuable lessons from me.”
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” you laughed, rolling onto your side, mostly accidentally ending up closer to her. “You know I’m glad that I ended up in this hotel room with you, or something.”
She looked at you for a long moment, and you couldn’t help but drop your eyes to her lips, and then back, hoping she wouldn’t notice because she was as intoxicated as you. She rolled over to face you, the two of you needlessly right in the middle of the bed, one of her eyebrows raised as she tried to give you the drunken version of her Boss stare, the one that usually made you spill all of your secrets.
“You’re giving me that look,” you whined.
“You’re giving me reason to give you this look, tell me what’s going on.”
“What nothing I’m fine it’s fine, honestly,” you spluttered, trying to ignore how close she was, that your hands were almost touching, that she was still looking at you intently, aware of the way that you were looking around the room, concentrating on anything but her, trying not to let your eyes give you away.
“Hmm,” she leant forward a little and you had to fight to stop a gasp escaping your lips, had to fight against how willing your body was to betray you. She could see through you, though, even while intoxicated, and before you knew it she was kissing you, messy but hard, like she couldn't get enough, and you couldn't stop the groan that followed.

You woke up under the covers, in your underwear, with a warm body snuggled up to your own. You opened your eyes to be confronted with a terrible hangover and the back of Gill's head, aware that apparently you were spooning, something that you wouldn't have pegged as Gill's style, if you'd thought about it, which you hadn't, of course, and that she was similarly clad to yourself. You were suddenly struck with the situation, and you couldn't help but shift closer, breathing in the faint smell of her perfume, tightening the arm around her waist, which of course woke her up.
She groaned and wiggled back into you, pulling the duvet up to cover her face.
"Go back to sleep," she muttered.
"Yes boss," you grinned and she shook her head at you, sighing.
"Not really the place for honourifics."
"You like it, admit it," she chuckled in response and you kissed her neck, enjoying the way that she shivered in response.
"More like you do, don't think I haven't noticed your authority thing," she was still murmuring, still half asleep, and you decided to leave the teasing for a better time than this ungodly hour of the morning. Let the hangovers dissipate somewhat first.