#grumpy alec

“Sorry. I’m not mad at you.” Alec took her hand and kissed it. “At least I can’t give it back to you.”

“I really wish Torchwood had the antidote for this one. Sorry to say this, but it’s going to get a lot worse before you start to feel better.”

“Well you had better tell them to get of their arses and get working on that antidote yesterday. You seem to have some pull over there.” Alec cracked a smile even though his eyes were closed.

Rose crawled over him to the other side of the bed. She punched the fluffy the goose-down pillow and propped herself against the elegant, carved headboard. “This room is amazing. Didn’t know about this place. You did good, DI Hotty.”

“Yeah, and I can’t enjoy it. No moonlight beach walks. No 99s. Bloody flu. Bloody non-cancelation policy at the hotel. I want to go home, Rose.” He coughed, and then wheezed, and then coughed again.

“You’re too sick to go home. You can get pampered here. Order room service, soak in that huge tub, watch all the telly you want.”

“You know I hate telly. Bloody waste of time.”

“Just saying…” She crossed her arms and pursed her lips. “Not like there’s anything else you can be doing right now. You couldn’t be at work anyway, so how is it wasting time?”

He harrumphed and flopped onto his side, facing away from her.

“Alec, can’t you even try to rest? I know you feel wretched, but don’t take it out on me.”

“You took it out on me when you had the flu!”

“Oh, so we’re gonna do this, then? Tit for tat? Even Steven? A bit juvenile, if you ask me.” Rose sighed hard and closed her eyes. It was her turn to sigh.

They were both quiet for a while, and the room was silent until Rose started to flip through the room service menu.

“Want something to eat?”

“Soup. And hot tea. And both will be rubbish. Too much salt in the soup. And no one makes tea as good as you.”

Rose half smiled. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve said to me since you spiked that fever.”

Alec again rolled on to his side, but this time he faced his wife. “I’m being a bastard.”

“I wouldn’t go that far. But you aren’t very pleasant to be around right now. If you weren’t honestly sick, I’d say you had Man Flu.”

“There is no such thing as Man Flu.”

“Sorry. That was rude. But I’m trying my best to make this easier for you, DI. I really am.”

“I know.” He coughed and then groaned. “I wanted to make up for the shoddy Valentine’s Day. You had flu. I didn’t get you anything. I—“

“Alec, don’t. You didn’t have to do this you know, book this mini-break. I never thought of this as trying to make up for Valentine’s Day.”

He was quiet.

“There wasn’t anything to make up for. I liked our Valentine’s Day. Jammie Dodgers and curry? Near the top of my list of favourite things. The only bad part was the flu bit.”

He nodded gingerly, eyes closed. “So not a do-over, then. But this is the truth. I did it because I wanted to do something nice for my lovely wife who puts up with my moods and irritation and complaints on a daily basis.”

Rose kissed his cheek and stretched out next to him. She rested her head on his chest and listened to his steady heartbeat.

He threaded his fingers through her soft hair and let out an exhausted sigh.

“What would be doing right now if you didn’t have a fever of 102?” Rose asked against his chest.

He pondered for a moment. “It’s almost eight, so right about now, we are being seated for dinner. Candle light. Champagne. Strawberries dipped in real chocolate, not the chalky fake kind.”

“Oi! Are you ever going to give that a rest? That was the first and last time I ever bought that.”

“I’ll never stop teasing you about that.”

She laughed quietly. “What next?”

“And after dinner, there we will be dancing in the glass-domed conservatory.”

“What are you wearing?” she asked.

“There’s a dress code at the restaurant, so I’m in my nicest suit — nothing I ever wear to work. It’s the one I wore to our wedding.”

“Blue tie, or red?”

“Red.”

She hummed happily. “I like that one.”

“What are you wearing?” he asked.

“I am wearing that black cocktail dress that I wore to the Torchwood Christmas party.”

“Sexy. I like that dress because I can feel your back while we’re dancing. Can slip my hands under the fabric. And it’s got that low cut bit up front.”

“Knew you liked it.”

“What shoes?” he asked.

“You do have a thing for shoes, don’t you?”

“Heels show off your brilliant running legs.”

“Four inch stilettos. They get me closer to your lips.”

Alec scratched her scalp. “Cheeky. What colour are they?”

“Shiny red. The bloke who sold them to me said they made my legs look good.“

Alec quietly grunted, and Rose laughed quietly. “Jealous?”

“Always.”

“Don’t be. And these don’t hurt—“

He completed her thought. “They don’t hurt your feet. On the other hand, you won’t have to kick them off and play footsie under the table.“ Alec laughed, but it turned into a racking coughing spell.

“Oh, love. I’m so sorry you have to deal with this.” Rose lifted her head and looked at him with sad eyes.

He encouraged her to return her head to his chest. “After we dance for a while, we’ll go into the bar for a nightcap. I’ll have a glass of sparkling water with lime, and you can have whatever you want. You know what they say about too much drink and sexual performance for men.”

“I doubt you could ever have that particular problem,” Rose growled as she stroked the smattering of hair on his chest.

“But remember, I’ve already had Champagne. Don’t want to tempt fate. And I want to be in my right mind when I make love to you. Want to memorise every single curve and dimple and soft and warm delicious part of you.”

Rose breathed in and out. “Not fair. This is worse than sexting. Because you’re here, and we can’t do anything about it because you’ve got the flu. You’re a tease.”

He chuckled. “Always. Teasing pays off most of the time.”

She buried her face into his chest, and breathed in the scent of his soap, but grimaced a bit as he also smelt of sweat and flu. “I’m glad we came here. Even though you have the flu, it’s still brilliant to get away.”

“Been too long.”

“Let’s do this again? But when you’re not flat on your back with the flu.”

“A non-Valentine’s do-over do-over?”

“Exactly.” Rose hesitated for a minute. “We’d better get in all of the minibreaks that we can before October.”

“What’s happening in October?”

Rose paused to chew her lip. She stilled her hand. “I was going to wait until dinner tonight, but since we aren’t going to dinner…” Her voice trailed off.

“Sorry about dinner. Never been to a Michelin two star restaurant before.”

“Never mind. I shouldn’t have said anything. I should wait. You’re sick and this is important, and—“

“You’ve piqued my interest now. No going back. I could investigate. My powers of interrogation are nearly always successful.” He coughed again. “Care to confess before I begin what will certainly not be a pleasant process.”

“Usually your interrogations are extremely pleasant. I happen to know you brought your cuffs.”

“Always on duty. I don’t go anywhere without them.”

“How well I know. Came in handy in my storage room.”

“Stop stalling.”

Rose hesitated for a moment, and then rolled off of the bed. She padded across the thick carpet to her suitcase. After digging around a bit, she returned to the bed, but stood still as a statue, her face flushing. She breathed in and out a few times.

“Would you hurry it up woman?” Alec said it as strongly as he could in his weakened state.

“Sorry. I’m nervous. I don’t know what you’re going to think about this. It’s unexpected and frankly, I’m shocked because, well, it was supposed to be 99.9% effective.”

From behind her back, she produced a small parcel wrapped in light blue tissue. It was wrapped like a piece of sweet candy, each end tied with pink ribbon. She climbed onto the bed, and sat on her knees. Biting her lip, she held it out to him.

Alec’s eyes went wide. He sat up as well as he could before he took the package from her outstretched hand. One bow was released as he tugged the tail, and then the second fell free. Without tearing the paper, he unrolled the tissue.

“You’re…?” Alec pulled out a tiny pair of baby booties.

She nodded. “Pregnant. Yeah.” She picked at her fingernails and nodded. Her eyes began to glisten.

“And you’re upset?” he asked, voice small.

She shook her head, and bit back a smile. “Not hardly. I didn’t know what you’d think about it.”

With more strength than a man with the flu should have, he grabbed her hand and tugged her down to him. He peppered her face with kisses. “How could I ever be upset?” He kissed the top of her head, and placed his hand low on her back. “So when do you think it happened?”

“Hard to tell. You’re always jumping my bones,” she teased.

“I do not jump your bones. It’s not my fault you’re so incredibly irresistible.”

“I like to think it happened when we went on that walk in the snow to the gazebo.”

“You were shivering. It was my duty as a husband to warm you up.” He cleared his throat a few times, and then grabbed a tissue. “Clothes-on sex is hot.”

“Speaking of hot. We need to stop talking about this. I’m getting… hot.”