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Weekly 100 Word Drabble Challenges from the LiveJournal Community - Slash The Drabble |
#227 - Right By elfin Rain is washing the blood from the road where another innocent villager died; their life lost in a complex web of lies and deceit, feuds past and present. Barnaby’s Jaguar is in Midsomer Holm. Jones isn’t sure where his Corsa is. They’re standing in the tiny brick porch of a pub. They’ve had a couple of beers but they’re not exactly drunk exactly, not sober. “It’s a long walk back to Causton,” Tom points out and Ben frowns. “Is it?” “There’s a taxi rank on the High Street.” They’re soaked through after the first step. They run across the road to the green at the centre of the village, it’s not a mud bath precisely but it’s no longer solid ground either. Somewhere in the middle, in the dark, Tom realises he’s alone and turns. “Sir?” He sighs softly; it’s been such a draining day. “Jones.” “Sir... Tom... I’ve maybe got this wrong, but....” He reaches out, lays a hand on Tom’s forearm, the warmth of his hand sinking through the soaked material and heating his cooling skin. He’s too tired to do anything but move his head, side to side. Ben isn’t wrong, Tom’s just irritated that he’s been found out. He takes the step back towards his sergeant, although he’s not his sergeant tonight. He reaches out and slides a dripping wet hand up Ben’s arm. It feels good to hold him, to have him close. His arms around him feel natural and comfortable. He closes his eyes, rests his face in Ben’s neck and tastes rain and sweat. This isn’t something that’s been bubbling under the surface, building up over time, it just is. Just right. Ben loosens his arms, takes a step back and murmurs, “Come back to my place.” All Tom can do is nod. |