Hill's Writing

@grantedfiles (Liz) said: "Brigadier, I'm starting to believe you broke the Central Air unit just to see everyone in their PT uniforms."

He heard the words but for a few second they didn't register in his mind. His eyes were on her legs. Somehow her borrowed PT shorts were even shorter and tighter that her usual mini skirts. He didn't even know they carried that size. At this point he wasn't sure if he was sweating because of the heat or the view. Probably, both. His eyes snapped back up to her face. "What? Um, oh yes, the Central Air." I've been of the phone for the past hour trying to get someone in to fix the dratted thing. They are fairly booked in the middle of this heat wave. And if anyone is a possible suspect in breaking the unit, I would say it's Captain Yates, with his suggestion of a wet t-shirt contest to cool off."

Liz had gotten the shorts from Carol not that he would know that, the most he ever interacted with his female staff was over borrowing a pen or when tea arrived. Nothing ever important. An eye roll crossed her features, masked only by the sunglasses and ridiculous hat she wore.

"My My Brigadier." Liz languidly fanned herself off with a folder stamped with a UNIT logo. "Bare-arsed?" She uncrossed her legs slowly and crossed them back over the other way. Not for his benefit, well she would argue that, but her legs were getting sticky pressed together.

The party was bubbling, the music playing and people crowding the mess hall. It was a little much. The champagne and wine quickly going dry. Liz had excused herself and ducked into the hallway, nearly running into the Brigadier in the process. She opened her mouth to say something but the wine must've gotten to her.

With a hand on his sleeve, Liz got to her toes, placing a soft and well meaning kiss to Alistair's cheek, almost the corner of his mouth. It could've been innocent but the lingering seconds after, her hand on the back of his neck.

He looked down at her hand as it landed on his sleeve. This is the closest he's ever been to this stubborn, infuriating woman and his heart was ready to pound right out of his chest. Then she kissed him, he could have just died right there.

He tried to tell himself it was just a simple peck on the cheek between friends to celebrate the new year, but he felt it was something more. Maybe he was reading too much into it.

Liz paused for a moment, blinking as he pulled away. Surprised if anything else. She knew the way he looked at her, not as an object or something to be won. He wasn't a dog in any definition of the word. It was just surprising. How nice the kiss was, how polite he had been. Even apologising when it wasn't necessary. The taste of scotch on his lips, the stupid tickle of his mustache, hands on her waist. If it had been anyone else. They would've not lasted long enough to apologise.

Alistair had enough. It was his HQ, he shouldn't be made to feel like an outsider. Every time he went to the lab the snickering, the snide comments made towards him. It was like he was public enemy number one with his scientific department. The Doctor he could handle. He was more of an unruly teenager with a distain for authority. But then there was Liz, who had caught his eye from the moment she walked in his office. Of course he was her boss and technically still a married man, so he wouldn't act on it. And it was very clear to him the lady couldn't stand him. Although there were the moments when they had friendly conversation, when she would actually smile or laugh at something he said. In those moments he felt like he could float away, to be the one to cause that reaction. But now she was here sitting in his office, short skirt and long legs... 'Get a hold of yourself ol' boy and focus on the task at hand.' ...he had to acknowledge this animosity.

Liz crossed one leg over the other and sat with an ease that belied the tension behind her eyes. She didn’t answer right away, just regarded him steadily, thoughtfully. He was being serious. After a slightly judgemental look she answered.

“If I truly disliked you, Brigadier, you would be well aware by now.”

Her voice was calm, measured, but not cold. There was a quiet intelligence behind it, and just the faintest trace of tiredness. "I was brought into UNIT under the promise that my scientific expertise was needed. Cambridge degrees, field experience, a mind trained for logic. And yet from the moment the Doctor arrived, I was no longer the scientific advisor. I became the assistant. The lab partner."

She leaned forward slightly, not accusatory, just honest considering the Brigadier brought all the cards. Only fair she did the same. “It’s not your fault. But it is your command. You say you think highly of me, and I don’t doubt it. But this place wasn’t made for people like me; it’s made for soldiers. And I’m a scientist who doesn’t like guns.”