Chapter Text
“We could go to the pub. We’ve never been to the pub.”
“No.”
“...Oh.”
Alec Hardy didn’t like pubs. Or at least, he hadn’t since Sandbrook. Too much atmosphere. Too many drunken arseholes either being too loud or too invasive, or conversations being shouted rather than spoken. His worst nightmare, really.
So why is he currently sat at home, saddled with regret from saying no to Ellie’s invitation?
It’s not like he wouldn’t be seeing her again. He’d be seeing her tomorrow, at work. Usual routine. Miller will be in the kitchen corner, buttering toast for the two of them while he brings in the coffee. Then they’d see what poor sod needs their help next and crack on with it.
So why does he feel bad for saying no?
He doesn’t like pubs. He doesn’t like being in crowded places for too long. Hates it, in fact. Though, even he has to admit that lately he’s been forgetting about the things he doesn’t like and rediscovering the things he does like. He puts it down to Daisy coming back onto the scene. That has to be it.
Somewhere in the middle of his train of thought, Alec has subconsciously grabbed his phone and dialled Miller’s number. He’s still trying to figure out when and how he’s done it when a voice pulls him back to reality.
“Hello? Hardy? ..... You there?”
“Yeah.”
He can picture Miller’s frown on the other end of the phone when she speaks. “Did you phone me by accident?”
“No.”
Ellie sighs impatiently. “Well? Spit it out then.”
“I...” Usually he knows exactly what to say, in every kind of situation. For some reason, this situation isn’t one of them.
“You alright? God, you’re not having another bloody heart attack, are you?” It’s small, but there’s a little tinge of worry in Ellie’s tone.
Alec scoffs. “Christ, I hope not. Don’t think that’d bode well for me.”
Ellie, against her better judgement, ignores how casual he is about that and continues. “I’m assuming you didn’t call me to chit chat. You never call me just to talk.”
“Hey! I... I’m capable of normal conver—“
“No, you’re not. It’s like getting blood from a stone.”
Maybe this was a bad idea after all. To add to that conclusion, he hears wee Fred calling for his mum in the background. “Right. Well, I won’t keep ya’.”
“Right, you said you didn’t call me accidentally. You said you weren’t having a heart attack, so what the fuck—?”
“Pub.” Hardy interjects before he realises, grimacing once he does and rubbing a hand over his face.
A momentary pause. “What?”
He really has no idea why he’s so nervous, why he’s fumbling over his words. It’s just a short outing to a bloody pub; It shouldn’t be this much of a kerfuffle.
“Pub. I was, ah... Wondering, if you still fancied going to the pub.”
“Oh.” He can hear rustling on the other end, which he can only assume is her wrangling around to keep Fred occupied. A trip to the pub, with him of all people, is definitely not— “Gimme half hour.”
This surprises him, and he has to pause for a moment to make sure he’s heard her correctly. “Oh! Right. Ah— Where?”
Ellie scoffs at his cluelessness. “The Swan. Just up from the beach.”
“Right.” Alec makes a mental note to check Google Maps before he leaves. “Half hour, you said?”
“Yeah. Gives me chance to drop Fred over to Lucy’s—“
“Miller, if it’s too much troub—“
“The Swan. Half hour.”
And she hangs up.
The whole conversation has taken it out of him, and he takes a moment as he stands up to process what’s just happened. It’s been a while since he himself organised a... Well, it’s just a drink, really. But it’s something he’s put together himself. He can’t even remember the last time he did that. Voluntarily asked someone else to do something with him, and then say yes. Actually, yes he can. When he asked Becca to his room at the hotel. Without the yes though, obviously. Either way, it’s done now, and he can’t back out. Besides, he wouldn’t dare argue with Miller. He knows better. ....Sometimes.
With that in mind, Hardy makes his way to the bathroom to sort himself out before he leaves.
————————————
Ellie’s surprised to hear from Hardy, if at all. It’s very rare he calls her; It’s usually when he needs her to do something. So for him to call her to ask her to the pub? Very odd.
Though, she’s not one to pass up the opportunity of seeing Alec Hardy out of his comfort zone. There’s an air of curiosity about the whole thing, but there’s also something else that she can’t quite put her finger on. Something about the idea of going to the pub of going to the pub with Alec excites her, much to her dismay.
Alec? When had he become Alec?
Shaking her head of the thought, Ellie makes a quick phone call to her sister to ask a favour. Favours from her sister aren’t too hard to come by anymore; Not since the trial.
Once Lucy agrees to have Fred for the night, after batting away any questions on what she would be up to, Ellie tidies herself up and puts on a purple blouse with a pair of jeans, accompanied by a pair of boots. It’s just a pint, after all. She doesn’t want to go too fancy. Even though she knows for a fact that Alec— Hardy, will turn up in a shirt and tie nonetheless. She’s convinced by now that he doesn’t own any other items of clothing, he just has multiple pairs of the same thing.
————————————
Ellie turns up a little earlier than half an hour; Only because after dropping off Fred, she was already out so got a taxi from Lucy’s. Though half an hour soon came, and still no Hardy. Maybe he’d decided against it. He didn’t sound too sure about it on the phone. Almost like he was doing it against his own will. After all, he really wasn’t a people person, so maybe a casual pint would prove too much for him.
Glancing at her watch, Ellie sighs through her nose, deciding that Hardy’s going to have a ruddy good bollocking for leaving her in the lurch like th—.
“Miller.”
The familiar Scottish droning of her surname causes her to whip around, her brows shooting up in bewilderment as she studies the man before her.
“Are you wearing jeans?”
Alec tries not to be offended by the amusement on Miller’s face as she looks at him, though soon fails as he holds up a hand. “Yeah alrigh’, Miller. No need to make a scene over a pair of Levi’s.”
“Ooh, Levi’s. Someone’s a big spender. Drinks on you then, are they?”
“Just get inside before I change my mind.”
Laughing amusedly to herself, Ellie’s still grinning as she turns and makes her way inside, with Alec following close behind.
Hardy’s nose turns up in disgust once he’s inside, pausing by the door as he stuffs his hands into his pockets. “God, Miller. You couldn’t have picked a bigger dive.”
“Oi! I’ll have you know, this is the best pub in Broadchurch. Plus, I... Might know the owner, so I get cheap drinks.”
Alec smirks at that as he follows her to the bar. As much as he’d hate to admit it out loud, he’s always admired Ellie’s connection to the town, and how everyone seems to genuinely like her. It’s definitely been a bonus in their enquiries, that’s for sure. Plus, he’s beginning to understand why.
Ellie?
He rubs the back of his neck as he awkwardly stands next to Miller, fingers drumming against the bar impatiently.
“Hiya, El’. Usual?”
“Yes please, Kev. And... Oi.” Ellie smacks his arm gently as she catches him staring into space. “What’s your poison, Shitface?”
“Ach— Still with the Shitface? I thought we were over—“
“Drink!”
Alec sighs. “Uh— Orange juice.”
“Really? You ask me to come to the pub with you and you want a bloody orange juice?” Ellie rolls her eyes. “He’ll have a pint.”
Muttering something under his breath about her being a stubborn twat, Hardy looks at the barman, who he’s assuming is called Kevin, nodding his head once in approval — much to the delight of Ellie.
“What?” Ellie says in response to the disgruntled look she’s getting thrown in her direction. “Listen, if you’re gonna come to a pub with me, you have to have at least one pint.”
“Oh, aye? And who made you Pub Queen all of a sudden?”
“I did.” She quips triumphantly in reply, sticking her tongue out at him for good measure.
There’s something in how smug Miller is about getting him to the pub that’s endearing to Hardy. Usually, he gets the impression that she doesn’t much like being around him for too long periods of time — not that he can blame her, so to see her practically gleaming at the prospect of drinking with him — well, it’s quite adorable.
He doesn’t know when he’s started to use the word “adorable” in reference to Ellie Miller either, but he knows it’s been happening for a while now. For example, when he woke up during the Sandbrook investigation to find Ellie still awake at his place and working the case, having stayed up all night, his first thought was how adorable she looked whenever she was onto something. Or when Ellie waltzed into the kitchen at work and nicked a piece of the toast he’d just made, Alec’s first thought was how endearing she was triumphantly munching away at it as she walked away. And when Ellie had asked him to go to the pub, earlier that day, a surge of guilt hit him when he caught sight of the cute little pout he got in response to turning her down.
He doesn’t know when it started, and he never thought he’d ever say it, but he’s starting to get soft on Ellie Miller.
Paying for the drinks (with discount, of course), Ellie hands over his pint of beer, which he takes with little conviction, holding the glass to his nose and scrunching it in distaste.
Amused, she scoffs. “Come on, misery guts. Let’s find a table.”
“Eh, less of the grumpy, will ya’? I’m here, aren’t I?”
Ellie stops at a table in the corner and places her drink onto it, shrugging her coat off and placing it on the back of her chair. “Yes, you are.” She says, squinting at him quizzically.
Taking a step toward him, she places a hand on his forehead; With little resistance, much to her surprise.
“What’re you doing?” Alec asks, furrowing his brow as he focuses on Ellie.
“Checking you don’t have a fever. Not ill, are you?”
“Oh, piss off” He retorts as he bats her hand away, though not oblivious to the way Miller strokes the hair away from his forehead before he does.
———————————
They’re three drinks in now, and there’s definitely an alcohol inflicted buzz in the air. Alec had almost forgotten what that had felt like, but he wasn’t complaining. He’s feeling relaxed, more than he has done in a long time; And more than anything, he’s enjoying Ellie’s company.
After finishing telling what seemed to be an overly animated story of one of Fred’s attempts to get into the sweet cupboard, Ellie then leans into the table, her eyes studying Hardy while a coy grin plays on her lips. “Go on then.”
Alec raises a brow. “What?”
“Why’d you change your mind about coming to the pub?”
“Oh! Well, ah... You know.” He trails off, rubbing the back of his neck. “Felt sorry for ya’, didn’t I?” He quickly reiterates, hiding a small smirk as he lifts his beer to his lips.
“Bullshit. When do you ever feel sorry for me?” She snorts. “Come on, what’s the real reason? You can tell me.”
The longer the night’s gone on, the more Alec begins to realise why he changed his mind about coming to the pub. That realisation is only confirmed when his heart flutters at how Ellie reaches over and wipes the beer foam from the hair on his upper lip. He’s pretty sure she can sense it too, because she quickly retracts her hand once their eyes meet; with her eyes darting around the room distractedly. It’s in that moment, that one fleeting moment that Alec realises what he should’ve known for a long time now.
He’s falling for Ellie bloody Miller.