#plus THE HEART ETES SHE WAS GIVING HIM AT THE WEDDING IN FRONT OF HER HUSBAND JESUS CHRIST

[only-one-brain-cell]

You know what I give JJ a lot of shit for The Comfession™️ but also the man who’s she’s declaring her love to looks like this.

[camillemontespan]

the boy who waited patiently [a lily fic]

@sirbeepsalot made me the above edit of Lily and her playgroup boyfriend, Milo, many years into the future. Here they are at their prom. Such a lovely birthday present!

I thought this was a good starting point for a fic. No idea if this is a one shot or if I will continue it. I guess it depends if anyone is interested in reading more of Lily, rather than Drake?

I need to make a Lily master list. She’s becoming a character in her own right. 

@jovialyouthmusic @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore @pug-bitch @moonlightgem7 @emceesynonymroll @burnsoslow @emichelle @ibldw-main @katedrakeohd @be-still-my-aching-heart @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @gardeningourmet @iplaydrake @drakewalkerisreal @notoriouscs @dcbbw @stopforamoment  @rainbowsinthestorm 

******************************************************************************************

Drake stood in the doorway with his arms folded, nervousness etched on his face, as he watched his wife and daughter.

Camille was standing behind Lily, helping her to zip up her dress. Lily was waiting patiently, while scrutinising her reflection in the mirror.

'Mom, is my makeup okay?' she asked nervously.

Camille gave her a smile in the mirror. 'You look beautiful.'

Lily was 17 years old and tonight was her prom. It was the night Camille had been excited for for years, while it was one that Drake dreaded.

He didn't want to be the stereotypical father who gave his daughter rules and told her who she could and couldn't date (cough, no one, cough) but he couldn't help it. As soon as Lily was born and cradled in his arms, Drake knew he wouldn't breathe easy again. He wanted her to be safe and happy.

Tonight was important because Lily was going to prom with Milo.

She and Milo had known each other since they were four years old when they were in the same playgroup and exchanged leaves. Leaves to their class was like a huge declaration of love and Lily had been so excited when she received one.

Their romance had cooled off after a week which was basically a year in the playgroup world. They had taken part in a wedding in the playground to cement their love, until one day Lily decided boys had germs and she was going to be a nun FOREVER. She had been introduced to the Sound of Music film the night before, which explained her sudden decision, but Milo had been heartbroken.

 They continued to grow up together and became good friends - Drake and Camille knew that Milo harboured actual feelings for their daughter but they had decided to let Lily work it out for herself.

It took her forever.

She dated Patrick. She dated Hayden. She dated Eli. For some reason, she seemed to like members of the swim team which Camille thought was amazing for Lily but a shame for Milo. Drake continued to set up his rifle, just in case.

While she dated swimmers, Milo waited patiently in the wings. He was imprisoned in the friend zone. Not even Lily's Uncle Leo could help with his advice. Milo looked like he would never catch a break.

Until one day, he blurted out his feelings to her while they were doing their homework. Lily had looked at him as he turned a faint shade of green, realising  what he had just admitted to.  She smiled softly.

'I'm such an idiot,' she murmured before leaning close. She kissed him gently and then went back to their English homework.

She had smelled of coconut. Milo's stomach flipped.

From then on, Lily was by his side. For the two of them, it had been six months of bliss.

Drake had been relieved that she was now dating a nice boy but his rifle was still on reserve because he was still a boy which meant he still had a dick.

'Dad, you look really nervous,' Lily teased, catching Drake's eye. Drake reddened and cleared his throat. 'I'm not.'

Lily smirked. The Walker smirk. 'Lies.'

Drake sighed. 'Just.. No funny business, okay? Like dance and be merry but nothing more!'

'Dad, I'm seventeen!' she cried. They all jumped when they heard her younger sister whisper through the door, 'I saw you kissing Milo in his car!'

'LUNA!' Lily yelled, whipping around. Luna smirked, the Walker smirk, and strolled into the bedroom. She flopped down on the bed and watched Camille spray her perfume onto Lily's wrists.

'Are you going to be k-i-s-s-i-n-g?' Luna teased. Lily shot her a stare that could kill. Aunt Olivia had taught her well. Luna stuck out her tongue and proceeded to examine her fingernails which were painted navy with tiny silver stars.

****************************************************************************************

Luna and Lily were like night and day. While Lily was smiley, flirty and girly, Luna was the opposite. She had inherited more than the smirk from her father. Sure, she looked exactly like Camille - both daughters did - but she had her Drake's black humour and she didn't get along with the noble kids at court. Not that she cared.

Both girls attended a 'normal' high school which meant court events were rare. But when they did have to venture to the palace, Luna looked at her counterparts with contempt. She knew the hell the nobles had put her father through and she didn't appreciate it one bit.

She did love her parents noble friends like Uncle Maxwell et al, but she didn't like the noble teenagers. They were stuck up and found it weird that Lily and Luna went to a regular school - not privately tutored like they all were. Plus, they were American.

Lily had always let their judgement go over her head. She was the daughter of Drake Walker and Camille Montespan; she didn’t need anyone’s approval but her parents. Fuck the rest of them.

Luna couldn't do that - she had been caught trying to beat up Timothy Domvalier after he called her a particularly cruel word and she would have managed to do real damage if Lily hadn't dragged her away - though her older sister did threaten to cut his testicles off where he stood if he made fun of Luna again.

That was the thing. The two sisters may have been different but they were still a team.

Drake sat down beside Luna who snuggled up beside him. 'Your heart is beating really quick,' she said. 'Mom, I think Dad's gonna have a heart attack because Lily is kissing boys!'

Drake pulled her into him, covering her mouth. 'Lies! All lies!'

Lily blushed and turned to show off her dress. 'How do I look?'

Camille backed away slowly with her hands up to her mouth. She looked like she was on the verge of tears. 'You look gorgeous! Oh god, must take a picture for the album!'

'Mom, everyone puts photos online now,' Luna said. 'Taking actual photos is so.. Old.'

Drake let out a laugh. 'Here that Camille? You're old!'

'I'm only forty four!' Camille protested. Lily and Luna exchanged a look.

'Old,' they both chorused, laughing at their teamwork.  Camille pretended to be outraged. 'Well, your dad's older than me so..'

'Ha!' Drake scoffed. 'Only by a year!'

Camille pointed at him with her eyebrows raised. 'Big difference.'

Drake and Camille shared a long heated look that only they knew the secret code for.

You're so hot right now.

Wait until later when we're alone.

Camille had planned a date night so that Drake would be distracted. She didn't want him sat on the front steps of their Manor, rifle on his lap, as he stewed on hypothetical situations like Milo kissing Lily or God forbid, offering her some spiked punch.

Not that Milo would do that. He was a sensible kid.

Uncle Leo and Aunt Olivia were coming over to watch Luna. She was thirteen so she didn't need babysat, not really, but Drake and Camille felt happier knowing that she wasn't alone. Olivia and Leo had babysat the two girls in the past which had been.. eventful. But both girls adored them.

The doorbell rang. Lily let out a nervous squeal. 'Oh god, oh god..'

Camille squeezed her hand and guided her out of the room. Drake followed with Luna. His heart was beating very very fast.

'Dad, do you need a whiskey?' Lily joked as she carefully walked down the stairs.

'Don't push it kid,' Drake growled.

Luna giggled. 'Can I have one?'

Drake stared at her in horror until he saw her give him a smirk.

'Why am I surrounded by girls who like to gang up on me?’ he groaned. He still had a smile on his face though; his girls were his life. When they reached the front door, Lily didn’t want to open it due to her nerves. Luna took her hand and gave it a supportive squeeze. Underneath it all, she did care about her sister and wanted her to have fun. Camille adjusted Lily’s hair as Drake opened the door.

Milo had co-ordinated his suit to match Lily’s dress which had been her idea. Purple with silver sparkles, he was bound to get bullied as soon as he stepped into the prom venue. But he didn’t care. He would do anything for Lily. 

He was tall and broad, having developed into his body quite late. At six foot two, he towered over Lily but she didn’t see this new grown man in front of her; she just saw Milo. Her friend. The boy she should have been with all along. The boy who was right in front of her.  The boy who had waited patiently. 

Milo looked terrified when he was confronted with Drake. ‘S-Sir Walker..’ he mumbled, bowing his head. He offered a small bottle of whiskey as a peace offering. Drake took the bottle, holding in laughter, and they all watched as Milo then brandished a bouquet of peonies to give to Camille. ‘For you, Duchess!’

Camille smiled and took them. ‘Milo, you know us. You can call us Drake and Camille like you usually do. These flowers are beautiful, how did you know?’

Milo blushed and Luna smirked, shaking her head at the awkwardness. Lily smiled and stepped forward to give him a hug. His eyes widened when he saw her.

‘Woah.. you look.. woah.’

‘How romantic!’ Luna gasped, pretending to swoon, collapsing against the stairs. ‘If only Shakespeare was here to write a sonnet!’ 

Lily looked over her shoulder at her sister with her brown eyes narrowed. ‘Can it, sis.’ 

Luna rolled her eyes and watched as Milo took out a little box. Camille nudged Drake and Luna, pulling them down the corridor to give Lily some privacy with her boyfriend. 

Milo swallowed as he opened the box. Lily let out a breath and looked up at him with her eyes shining. ‘This is beautiful!’ 

It was a corsage with white and red flowers. Milo grinned and gently placed it around her wrist. Lily admired it then frowned when she examined the box. ‘What’s this..?’

She reached into the box and took out a leaf.

‘Oh my God, you got me a leaf!’ she shrieked, jumping up and down. ‘Milo!’

Milo laughed and for that moment, he saw the four year old Lily with the wide smile and dancing eyes. 

‘Oh god, I didn’t get you a leaf..’ she whispered. ‘Oh no. Oh no.’

‘Lil, it’s okay,’ he chuckled. Lily shook her head. ‘No, this won’t do.’

Quickly, she strode out the front door. Milo followed and he watched as she took off her heels so she could walk barefoot around the grass, looking around her. 

‘Lily, what are you doing?’

‘I’m finding you a leaf!’ she called. ‘I’m gonna find you the prettiest one!’ 

‘It was meant to be a joke-’

‘Shhhh, I’m searching!’ she scolded. Milo smiled and sat down on the steps, waiting for her to find a leaf. He jumped when he heard footsteps behind him. Looking over his shoulder, he saw it was Drake. 

Milo stood up quickly but Drake gestured for him to remain seated. ‘Relax, man,’ he said. Milo nodded and sat down awkwardly. Drake sat down beside him.

He had the bottle of whiskey in his hand and two crystal cut glasses. Carefully, he poured a measure into both glasses and handed Milo a glass. 

‘Uhh.. I’m not eighteen yet,’ Milo said. Drake rolled his eyes. ‘Milo, you go out with my daughter who I know has sneaked whiskey before. You know she helped herself to one of my most expensive bottles?’

Milo chuckled. ‘Sounds like Lily.’

‘Exactly,’ Drake said. ‘So, please, take the glass and have a drink with me.’

They sat together for a moment, watching Lily as she went further away from the manor to go to an oak tree. 

‘How is she seventeen already?’ Drake murmured. 

Milo smiled, not sure if he was meant to answer. Drake looked at him with a wry smile on his face. ‘I’m sorry I’m that dad who interrogates and makes boyfriends uneasy,’ he said. ‘I don’t mean it. It’s just... she’s my daughter. I’ll do the same to Luna when she gets a boyfriend or girlfriend. I know it’s annoying but I can’t help it. I just want her to be happy, you know?’ 

‘You are a bit scary..’ Milo whispered. 

Drake let out a deep laugh. ‘Oh good, I’m glad! Ha, fantastic. You know I’m actually really nice, right?’

Milo nodded. ‘I know, Drake. You come from a good place.’ 

‘I can see her becoming independent and becoming a woman and I’ll be honest, it scares me,’ Drake confided. ‘I sometimes miss the times when she was my little girl. She was obsessed with me. I was her hero. But now, she’s forging her own path, she’s dating guys, she’s graduating soon.. soon, I’ll just be a side character in the story of her life. And I’m okay with that, I am. I want her to grow up, I want her to make mistakes and I want her to have the best time while doing it.’

Milo bit his lip and sipped his whiskey. Fuck, this was strong stuff. Jesus. 

‘If it helps, I think you’re always going to be her favourite guy,’ Milo told him. ‘She honestly still looks at you like you’re Captain America or something. Sure, you can annoy her by being overprotective but when she thinks about it, she says she knows why you do it. She would rather have that than a dad who doesn’t care. With you, she knows you love her above everything. So I promise, you won’t be a side character.’

Drake was quiet for a minute, contemplating. ‘I think it’s time for me to let go a little. She is going travelling in the summer, maybe that will be a fresh start.’

Milo nodded. Lily was going to travel to Europe with him and a few of their friends before they started university. It was a freedom granted to her that many children of Dukes and Duchesses weren’t allowed to have. 

Drake clapped Milo on the back. ‘Good talk,’ he said. ‘Curfew is 1am.’

Milo frowned. ‘I thought it was 11pm?’

‘Ha!’ Drake let out a dry laugh. ‘What kind of night out is that?’

Milo grinned, surprised at the sudden change of rules. 

‘I have a leaf!’ Lily shouted, waving a leaf in the air. She ran towards Milo and Drake with a happy smile on her face and curtseyed to Milo, before handing him the leaf. ‘It’s the best leaf in the garden,’ she told him seriously. 

Milo held it to his heart. ‘I will guard it with my life.’ 

Drake smiled and took the whiskey bottle and his glass. He left his daughter on the front steps of the manor with her boyfriend, who was looking at her like she was a work of art. 

[blueboxesandtrafficcones]

The French Connection - Chapter 2

A HardyxMiller AU

Ellie Miller is left to go on her honeymoon alone after a devastating secret about her fiance comes to light - halfway through the wedding ceremony.  Sitting in St Pancras International in London waiting for her train, she runs into none other than her uni rival/best friend Alec Hardy, on the run from his own recent heartbreak.

They decide to make use of Ellie’s pre-paid trip, rekindling their friendship and escaping real life; yet, it turns out their years at uni are the hardest to outrun. Based on this prompt from @timepetalscollective  

Chapters will be posted every Wednesday and Sunday.  Beta’d by the wonderful @stupidsatsuma

Masterlist  |  AO3

---

Ellie washed her face, grateful she’d forgone makeup that morning in her misery.  Her face was still splotchy from crying, though the cold flannel helped ease the contrast.

After wasting a minute or two thoroughly examining the tiny bathroom she gave up, steeling herself to open the door and leave the relative safety of her hideaway.  It’s just Hardy, she scolded herself, trying to make her hand reach for the doorknob.  Stop being so weird.  You invited him on this trip.  He’s not going to expect anything.  You both just had traumatic breakups.

Finally her hand obeyed, and she stepped out into the main area.  The first thing that caught her attention was his attempts to remove the romantic elements – the rose petals were gone and the candles were off, which eased some of the pressure.

“Champagne?” Hardy offered, holding a full flute out towards her, and after a moment, she accepted.

“Thanks.”

They clinked the glasses together, and Ellie drank the whole thing in one go, lowering the flute only to see that Hardy had merely sipped at his, and was watching her with raised eyebrows.

Thankfully, he didn’t comment, merely refilled her glass and asked, “What do you want to do for dinner?”

“Wander the streets, whatever catches our fancy?”

“Sure.  D’you want to head out now and walk around, or stay in and unpack?”

Ellie checked her watch; five o’clock.  Far too early for dinner, especially in Paris.  But to stay in or go out?  She felt a bit antsy, like she needed to move, but it had been such a long day she didn’t want to fall asleep halfway through dinner.  I did sleep on the train…

“Walk around?”

“Sure,” Hardy nodded, moving towards his suitcase, “just give me a couple minutes.”

Ellie shifted to let him squeeze past, noting they were both careful to avoid touching.  “Take your time.”  Drifting towards the far side of the bed, she noticed a door flush to the wall; opening it, she found a dozen steps leading up.  At the top was another door, and upon opening it, she gasped to find herself on the roof of the hotel, a small semi-private balcony area that was gated in.  In reality it was one space divided in four, so it wasn’t terribly private, but it gave such a wonderful view of the river and the Ile across from them that she didn’t care.

“Miller?”

Footsteps on the stairs behind her said he’d followed her up, and a moment later, he joined her with a wide-eyed look of his own.

“Now that’s something you don’t see every day,” he murmured, looking positively enchanted, and Ellie’s heart twinged with grief.

It was the kind of view you shared with someone you loved, the kind of view you kissed in front of and made plans for the future.

Joe should be here, she thought, hating herself for it.  She missed him, or at least the man she’d thought he was.  As a detective, as a cop, it was her job to protect the public, and she had no time or patience for abusers and perverts.  In that sense, she’d immediately and irrevocably cut Joe out of her heart, ending their relationship and refusing to see him even when he asked.

But the man she’d known, who she’d thought he was… that was the Joe she wanted with her.  Kind, sweet Joe, who cooked her dinner and made her laugh and wanted to share his day, his dreams, his life with her.

It hurt to know that Joe had never existed, not really.

“Oi.”  Hardy jostled her with his elbow.  “Look.”  He pointed, and she followed his finger to the street along the riverbank.  A mime stood on a box, performing, and she couldn’t help a reluctant smile.

“Right, well, that’s what I came to see,” she joked, grinning up at him.  “We can go home now.”

Hardy shook his head, giving her a mock scowl, the effect somewhat ruined by madly twinkling eyes.  “Now, hold on!  I came to Paris to see the Moulin Rouge.  We can’t leave yet!”

“Can we at least leave for a walk?”

“Yeah, all right.”

Ellie took a moment in the bathroom for herself, dusting on just enough makeup to not look like a ghost, and changing into something a little dressier.  Just because she wasn’t here with someone she loved didn’t mean she could look like a savage.

“Ready,” she announced, stepping out and right into Hardy’s chest, drawing a loud ‘oof!’ from both of them.  “Sorry.”

“S’alright,” he said, steadying her with his hands on her biceps.  “You good?”

“Uh huh.”

Once out on the street they walked side by side, taking in the ambiance and beauty.  They took turns pointing out various items of interest, and gradually Ellie relaxed.  To her surprise she was actually having fun, enjoying Hardy’s company, and wasn’t that strange?

Maybe he’s not as terrible as I always thought.

-

Sticking his hands in his pockets, even Hardy had to admit that wandering the streets of Paris was relaxing and, dare he say, almost enjoyable.  It was a beautiful late spring day, warm enough to be comfortable but not too hot, the slowly-sinking sun a brilliant orange.

Casting his eyes to the side, he tried not to frown at the distant look in Ellie’s eye.  Arms folded across her stomach, she seemed to be watching without seeing anything.

She just found out she almost married a predator, the little voice in the back of his head scoffed.  Of course she’s in a tailspin.  Setting his jaw, he decided it was up to him to save her trip.  She already spent all this money to be here, he rationalized, she ought to get something out of it.

“Here,” he said abruptly, noticing a street cart and grabbing her arm, tugging Ellie over to it while ignoring her yelp.

“What’re you doing?” she asked, voice smaller than it should have been, but he ignored her to place his order and pay.  Within a minute he had his prize in hand, and turned back to her, offering it out.

“We’ve been in Paris too long not to have a crepe,” he explained patiently when she just stared at him with a blank look.  “Go on, have a bite.”

Ellie took the treat, biting carefully before her eyes closed and she let out a moan.  “Oh, that’s good.”  She took another bite, then scrunched her nose.  “Of course you ruined it.”

“Bananas and chocolate are a natural pairing,” he argued, taking the folded crepe back for a bite of his own.  It was too sweet for him, but the way she was now watching it like a predator with prey in its sights said it had been the right call.  “And I’m sure you’re hungry.  You haven’t eaten since your sad breakfast.”

She practically snatched it away when he offered it back to her, taking a ridiculously large bite.  “Piss off.”

They started walking again, and he was pleased to see some of the liveliness return to her eyes, as she pointed out things to him again.

When’s the last time anyone took care of her, instead of her taking care of them? he wondered, even as they traded light-hearted barbs.  I doubt her family’s changed.  Did her fiancé?  Obviously not, in the long run.

She didn’t have to invite me, could’ve gone on her own, or somewhere else.  A surprising swell of pride surged through him.  

She trusts me.

-

Ellie laughed, watching Hardy study the menu.  He was making absolutely no effort to disguise his disgust for the rich French food, but the restaurant had been his suggestion, so she felt no sympathy for him.

“You could get fish,” she finally suggested, stomach rumbling.

Two dark eyes peered at her over the menu, and despite being all she could see of his face, she knew he was scowling.  “You’re not helping.” Not waiting for a reply, he turned and caught the waiter’s attention.

“Oui?”

Ellie smiled up sweetly, ordering in French, “Good evening, I would like the bouillabaisse.”

“Merci.  Et vous, monsieur?”

“Uh… chicken,” Hardy muttered, also in French, pointing to a specific dish.  “Merci.  Oh- vin.  Plus de vin.”

The waiter nodded, taking their menus and disappearing.  Before they even had time to speak, a sommelier appeared with a bottle of red, and Hardy gestured in her direction.

“How’s this?”

Ellie carefully inspected the bottle for just long enough to make him think she knew what she was looking for, before nodding.  The sommelier poured them both a taste, and when Hardy nodded, filled their glasses and left the bottle.

Once they were alone Hardy leaned forward, reaching out with his wine glass, and Ellie matched his pose.

“Are we toasting?”

Pursing his lips, he glanced out the window behind her before turning his gaze on her, dark eyes full of emotion despite his iron-glad grip on them otherwise.

“To… second chances,” he offered, tilting the glass.  “To old friendships. To lucky escapes.”

Ellie considered him.  Running into him had, at first glance, seemed like the only thing that could make her day worse, but in truth, it had been the first good thing to happen to her since Joe’s arrest.  “To running away.”

“Hear, hear.”

They sipped moderately from their glasses, setting them down at the same time, and opened their mouths.

“So-”

Stopping, Ellie laughed softly, shaking her head.  “The more things change…”

Hardy chuckled in agreement, a smile flitting across his usually stern visage.  “Go ahead.”

“I was just going to say… thank you.  You’ve always had a way of making a shitty day better.  I mean, usually by being a git and pissing me off, but still.”

“It always worked, didn’t it?” he arched an eyebrow, taking another mouthful of wine.  “Distracted you.”

Ellie hummed.  “To be honest, was a hell of a lot more fun being enemies with you than friends with any of the other tossers in our class.”

To her surprise, a flash of hurt blinked across his face.

“What?”

“Nothing.”  His eyes fixed on something outside the window for a long moment before he continued, almost reluctantly, “I never considered us enemies.”

“We constantly fought!” she protested, even as a little part of her was glad to hear it.  “We were voted two most likely to kill each other, remember?  I can remember on one hand the number of times we actually agreed on something!”

Hardy snorted, expression easing.  “One, we agreed more than it seemed.  Not on methods, maybe, but on general topics?  Absolutely. I think the term most of our classmates used was ‘bickering’, rather than fighting.  People who are fighting don’t have that much fun doing so.  And besides…”

“What?  ‘Besides’ what?”

He lifted his glass to his lips, obscuring all but his eyes but unable to hide the mirth pooling there.  “They certainly voted us ‘most likely to something each other’, and it was a four-letter word, but it wasn’t kill.”

Ellie choked on her wine, spluttering as she tried to process that.  “You’re lying!”

“Have I ever lied to you?”

“You said it wasn’t see-through!”

That made him laugh.  “Okay, fair enough,” he agreed, “but other than that?  They all thought we were together.”

“How come I didn’t know about this?”

“I asked once, why I got all of their shit.  Apparently they thought you were the scary one of the two of us.”

“What?!”  Ellie tried to picture that.  At school, he’d been the broody Scot, always wearing a suit and tie to class and snarling at anyone who irritated him.  In stark contrast she had been the embodiment of light and happiness, wearing pastels and bringing baked goods in every other week.  “I was the scary one?”

“Oh, absolutely,” he nodded like he agreed with the assessment.  “I would bark and snarl, but that’s my default – or so I’ve been told.  Meanwhile you were, I dunno, Snow-bloody-White.  Sweet as could be, but when someone crossed you-”

“Usually you,” she interrupted.

He waved a hand in vague acknowledgement.  “-you could yell.  No one ever forgot that bollocksing you gave Murray over that joke.”

“It wasn’t funny,” Ellie mumbled, sinking down in her chair.

“Course not, he was a plonker,” he shook his head.

Ellie pursed her lips.  “Most of those boys were, even you occasionally.”

Hardy’s expression fell slightly, taking on a more serious quality.  “I never apologized for that, did I?”

She didn’t have to ask what he meant.  “No.”  The moment was burned into her memory, one of the more awful experiences she’d had.  As only one of two women in a class of thirty, the testosterone had been unbearable.  The other girl had dropped out halfway through their third term, abandoning Ellie to their occasional juvenile pranks.

In this particular case, the entire class was at a police training facility getting in some practice, as every one of them were intending to go onto the force.  The uniform had been khakis and a white dress shirt.

One of the tasks had been to help each other up over a wall; if they fell, it was into a pool of water.  One of the others, she forgot who now, had purposely dropped her.  She’d landed on her back, which had hurt her pride more than anything, but had also soaked her.

Hardy had been the one to help her up, and when she’d worried about the state of her shirt, had promised it didn’t show anything.

It wasn’t until two hours later, after lunch in the cafeteria and walking past hundreds of people, that she caught sight of her reflection and realized it was entirely see-through, and her modesty wouldn’t have been much more impacted had she gone entirely topless – which would have probably been far more comfortable than wet, clingy cotton.

That was the first- and last- time she cried over her classmates.

“Well, I’m sorry,” he said sincerely.  “It wasn’t right.”

“Thank you.”  After a moment, Ellie pushed the memory away.  “Besides, I can’t really blame you.”

“Because I didn’t push you?”

She smirked, raising her glass of wine.  “No, ‘cause my tits never looked better than they did then.  They deserved to be seen by someone.”

Hardy was still laughing when their food arrived.