[ fic: dutchy/kate ]
Title: On The Edge
Fandom: Sea Patrol
Pairing: Dutchy/Kate
Rating: M
Spoilers: 4x16 Episode Tag
Words: 1914
Summary: 'What she really needed was a bottle of a wine and a good looking man to distract her. She just didn’t want to think about Mike any more...'
‘OK, that’s enough.’
She looks up at Dutchy and wonders why he’s putting so much effort into making her feel better. In fact she has a lot of questions about why Dutchy does anything that he does around her - but she’s not up to dealing with any more male complications at that moment.
‘What?’
‘Why are you sitting here, alone…again…?’ Dutchy sits next to her at the bar. ‘I thought you were just coming to get a drink.’
Kate shrugs and looks at her half-empty glass of wine. ‘I guess I forgot.’
‘Forgot?’
‘To come back to the table,’ she glances at the others, sitting and laughing.
She almost hates them - how they can be so happy. How none of them have even asked where Mike is and why he’s not there. Sometimes she just wishes one of them would notice how much she’s hurting all the time. She watches as 2Dads lightly touches Bomber’s shoulder as he walks past towards the bar and she hates them because for them it seemed so easy.
Why couldn’t it be so easy for her and Mike?
But she was going to blame Mike for that one. Because she could, because he had no trust in her and because he didn’t even seem to understand when he hurt her.
‘X…’
She looked up at Dutchy - she’d almost forgotten he was there.
‘…do you want to get out of here?’
‘Where?’
Sometimes she can’t tell when he’s hitting on her. Or if he’s hitting on her.
‘Anywhere. You just seem like you need to be somewhere else.’
What she needed was to rewind six months to the moment Mike had been promoted, where they’d been happy for what felt like five minutes before everything had fallen apart again.
Or maybe that was a good thing.
Clearly Mike didn’t care anyway.
What she really needed was a bottle of a wine and a good looking man to distract her. She just didn’t want to think about Mike any more.
She glanced at Dutchy. She was almost certain if she asked he’d say yes. Or maybe she was just confusing his overprotective nature for something else.
‘I think I’m just gonna go back to my room.’
Maybe she stood up too quickly, but she swayed slightly on her heels before catching her balance. Dutchy was smiling at her when she looked back up at him.
‘I’ll walk you back to the Hammersley,’ he offered.
‘Actually I booked a room in the hotel.’
He looked surprised. Maybe he’d taken that as an invitation? Mentally she counted how many glasses of wine she’d had that night.
It was enough.
‘You can walk me there,’ she finished quietly.
He didn’t respond, but stood up and held an arm out towards the stairs.
‘After you,’ he whispered, and she felt a chill run down her spine as she turned and walked towards the stairs.
‘Night, X!’ 2Dads shouted from the table.
She’d forgotten about them. She was doing that a lot that night. This wasn’t going to look good…walking off with Dutchy to a hotel room. Not that she really cared at that moment. She was transferring off the Hammersley anyway. And it wasn’t like he was her Commanding Officer…
What was she doing?
She stopped mid step and turned to the table.
‘Goodnight,’ she waved at them all.
Dutchy made some kind of symbol that she was drunk and he was just assisting her. But she noticed he let her see it. Was it a way out?
There was a chorus of goodnights from the table. Except from RO, who suggested she was going to have a nasty hangover the next day, and the next she knew she was walking down the hotel corridor with Dutchy by her side and a room key in her hand.
This was not her. Kate McGregor did not sleep with her shipmates.
Not that Dutchy had at any point suggested it. So it was probably all in her head. But he was still here wasn’t he?
It took her thirty second of fiddling with the lock before Dutchy grabbed the key off her and opened the door in one swift movement.
‘I’m not drunk,’ she stated.
‘Sure,’ he smiled back at her and she felt the pain of Mike’s comment fade slightly.
But only for a moment. Dutchy seems to notice the change in her expression from a slightly drunken smile to the blank expression she’s getting used to wearing.
‘Ok that’s enough,’ he says again, picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder.
‘Dutchy!’
She’s not sure whether to be angry or laugh. If she’d been more sober she might have been concerned about the fact that she was wearing a dress and they were still in the hallway. But the only thought she had was ‘what would Mike think?’.
But she had to stop worrying about Mike.
Dutchy had said you could chose who you fell in love with. She didn’t believe that - but she wanted to so much. But that was the thing about Mike, right? He’d agreed with Dutchy. He believed you could chose who you fell in love with. So maybe he didn’t really love her at all, maybe he had chosen to fall out of love with her.
She had no idea what to do.
Romantic comedies were failing her right then.
Dutchy pulls the door shut behind them and carries her to the bed. She half expects him to throw her down on the bed and laugh. But he doesn’t, he places her on the edge of the bed so she can sit and turns around to open the fridge.
‘One bottle of champagne,’ he comments, pulling it out. ‘Or we can hit the scotch.’
‘I’m not really in a celebrating mood,’ she replies as he hands her the champagne bottle. ‘But I’m also not sure scotch is a good idea, we do have to sail tomorrow…’
‘Well I’m sure we can find something to celebrate! Life maybe?’
She looks up at him. How was he always so positive? Or at least appeared to be. Because she knew he had his dark side. They all did.
She shrugs. ‘Ok, sure. Lets drink the champagne. Because I don’t know about you but I’m not really in the mood to go back to the bar and buy a bottle of something else.’
‘If we did that we’d look even more suspicious.’
So he did think they were being suspicious. She wasn’t sure if that was a comfort or a concern. She watches in silence as Dutchy pours two glasses of champagne. She never drinks champagne - it reminds her of all the reasons she’s never had to drink it. Proposals, weddings, births…those things aren’t part of her life.
Maybe she should give up, aim to be Chief of Navy and forget about men and kids and all those normal things other women had.
Her life had never been normal, why change now?
‘OK, so now you have to tell me why you have a hotel room booked when there’s a free bed just across the street?’
He hands her the champagne and sits down next to her on the bed.
She can’t help but notice how close he is.
‘And then you’re going to tell me why you’re resigning from Hammersley,’ he finished.
Now she meets his eyes again. There’s some kind of intensity in his expression that she hasn’t seen before - but it reminds her of Buffer and suddenly she feels empty. Why is it always sailors? Why can’t she fall for someone normal? She blames Mike.
He was the first Navy man she fell for and since then it’s just been one after the other.
‘I just need some space,’ she replies. ‘Cheers.’
And she follows it with a rather long drink from her glass. Dutchy reaches forward and pulls her hand back so she has to stop.
‘No need to drink like a sailor, ma’am,’ he almost whispers.
Her eyes are just focused on his hand holding hers.
Can she do it?
At that moment every part of her wants to sleep with Dutchy. But she isn’t sure she can.
‘X?’
She looks over at him.
‘Space from who?’ he continues.
Suddenly it dawns on her that he’s probably worried it’s him causing her the trouble. That’s why he’s here, that’s why his hand is still on hers. He confuses her like nothing else but she’s pretty sure she confuses him as well. Yet somehow their relationship works.
‘It’s not you,’ she whispers, and suddenly the situation has became far too intimate for her liking and all she wants to do is run.
But run where? Back to the bar with the others? That won’t help.
She has nowhere else to run.
He’s very close, and his hand is still wrapped around hers, holding the champagne glass away from her.
‘Who then?’ he asks.
She doesn’t have a response, no answer comes to her that seems to make any sense. And so she finds herself leaning forward into his lips and kissing him. She’s not even sure why she’s doing it, but he doesn’t object. His hand leaves the champagne glass and makes it’s way up her arm until he’s cupped her face in his hand.
She’s pretty sure she’s spilling her champagne all over the carpet of the hotel room but she doesn’t care. This was what she needs. An escape from reality, something to distract her from her relationship problems.
Because clearly a make-out session with a crew member was exactly the best thing to distract her from that.
She wanted to hate Mike. He didn’t trust her, he didn’t even understand what he’d done wrong. He never did, that was the problem. He tried so hard and failed every time and somehow she couldn’t even bring herself to hate him for it because most of the time it wasn’t his fault. He was just dense like that.
But knowing he didn’t trust her professionally? That hurt. It really hurt, dug deep into her and she knew she had to find a way.
Dutchy pulls back suddenly and she looks up at him, confused.
‘Are you OK?’
He traces a finger across her cheek and she realises she’s crying. In front of Dutchy. After she kissed him.
She stands up and backs away from him slowly.
‘I’m sorry, I should go,’ she grabs her phone and moves towards the door.
‘X,’ he says quietly. ‘It’s your hotel room. I’ll go.’
He stands up and walks past her. She tries to focus on the ground, at her feet. She’s not sure she can look at him.
‘And X? If you need me, for anything, just call me. Please. I don’t want you here all alone upset like this over whatever it is that’s hurting you,’ he places a hand lightly on her arm.
She jumps slightly and looks up at him, but she doesn’t pull her arm away.
‘OK?’
She nods.
‘I’ll see you in the morning. Try and get some sleep,’ and with that he’s gone, out the door.
She closes it behind him and walks back to the bed, falling on it. For a moment she eyes the un-drunk champagne bottle on the bench - but she doesn’t think that’s a good idea. Not by herself. Maybe all she needs is a good nights sleep and then she’ll feel better.
Fandom: Sea Patrol
Pairing: Dutchy/Kate
Rating: M
Spoilers: 4x16 Episode Tag
Words: 1914
Summary: 'What she really needed was a bottle of a wine and a good looking man to distract her. She just didn’t want to think about Mike any more...'
‘OK, that’s enough.’
She looks up at Dutchy and wonders why he’s putting so much effort into making her feel better. In fact she has a lot of questions about why Dutchy does anything that he does around her - but she’s not up to dealing with any more male complications at that moment.
‘What?’
‘Why are you sitting here, alone…again…?’ Dutchy sits next to her at the bar. ‘I thought you were just coming to get a drink.’
Kate shrugs and looks at her half-empty glass of wine. ‘I guess I forgot.’
‘Forgot?’
‘To come back to the table,’ she glances at the others, sitting and laughing.
She almost hates them - how they can be so happy. How none of them have even asked where Mike is and why he’s not there. Sometimes she just wishes one of them would notice how much she’s hurting all the time. She watches as 2Dads lightly touches Bomber’s shoulder as he walks past towards the bar and she hates them because for them it seemed so easy.
Why couldn’t it be so easy for her and Mike?
But she was going to blame Mike for that one. Because she could, because he had no trust in her and because he didn’t even seem to understand when he hurt her.
‘X…’
She looked up at Dutchy - she’d almost forgotten he was there.
‘…do you want to get out of here?’
‘Where?’
Sometimes she can’t tell when he’s hitting on her. Or if he’s hitting on her.
‘Anywhere. You just seem like you need to be somewhere else.’
What she needed was to rewind six months to the moment Mike had been promoted, where they’d been happy for what felt like five minutes before everything had fallen apart again.
Or maybe that was a good thing.
Clearly Mike didn’t care anyway.
What she really needed was a bottle of a wine and a good looking man to distract her. She just didn’t want to think about Mike any more.
She glanced at Dutchy. She was almost certain if she asked he’d say yes. Or maybe she was just confusing his overprotective nature for something else.
‘I think I’m just gonna go back to my room.’
Maybe she stood up too quickly, but she swayed slightly on her heels before catching her balance. Dutchy was smiling at her when she looked back up at him.
‘I’ll walk you back to the Hammersley,’ he offered.
‘Actually I booked a room in the hotel.’
He looked surprised. Maybe he’d taken that as an invitation? Mentally she counted how many glasses of wine she’d had that night.
It was enough.
‘You can walk me there,’ she finished quietly.
He didn’t respond, but stood up and held an arm out towards the stairs.
‘After you,’ he whispered, and she felt a chill run down her spine as she turned and walked towards the stairs.
‘Night, X!’ 2Dads shouted from the table.
She’d forgotten about them. She was doing that a lot that night. This wasn’t going to look good…walking off with Dutchy to a hotel room. Not that she really cared at that moment. She was transferring off the Hammersley anyway. And it wasn’t like he was her Commanding Officer…
What was she doing?
She stopped mid step and turned to the table.
‘Goodnight,’ she waved at them all.
Dutchy made some kind of symbol that she was drunk and he was just assisting her. But she noticed he let her see it. Was it a way out?
There was a chorus of goodnights from the table. Except from RO, who suggested she was going to have a nasty hangover the next day, and the next she knew she was walking down the hotel corridor with Dutchy by her side and a room key in her hand.
This was not her. Kate McGregor did not sleep with her shipmates.
Not that Dutchy had at any point suggested it. So it was probably all in her head. But he was still here wasn’t he?
It took her thirty second of fiddling with the lock before Dutchy grabbed the key off her and opened the door in one swift movement.
‘I’m not drunk,’ she stated.
‘Sure,’ he smiled back at her and she felt the pain of Mike’s comment fade slightly.
But only for a moment. Dutchy seems to notice the change in her expression from a slightly drunken smile to the blank expression she’s getting used to wearing.
‘Ok that’s enough,’ he says again, picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder.
‘Dutchy!’
She’s not sure whether to be angry or laugh. If she’d been more sober she might have been concerned about the fact that she was wearing a dress and they were still in the hallway. But the only thought she had was ‘what would Mike think?’.
But she had to stop worrying about Mike.
Dutchy had said you could chose who you fell in love with. She didn’t believe that - but she wanted to so much. But that was the thing about Mike, right? He’d agreed with Dutchy. He believed you could chose who you fell in love with. So maybe he didn’t really love her at all, maybe he had chosen to fall out of love with her.
She had no idea what to do.
Romantic comedies were failing her right then.
Dutchy pulls the door shut behind them and carries her to the bed. She half expects him to throw her down on the bed and laugh. But he doesn’t, he places her on the edge of the bed so she can sit and turns around to open the fridge.
‘One bottle of champagne,’ he comments, pulling it out. ‘Or we can hit the scotch.’
‘I’m not really in a celebrating mood,’ she replies as he hands her the champagne bottle. ‘But I’m also not sure scotch is a good idea, we do have to sail tomorrow…’
‘Well I’m sure we can find something to celebrate! Life maybe?’
She looks up at him. How was he always so positive? Or at least appeared to be. Because she knew he had his dark side. They all did.
She shrugs. ‘Ok, sure. Lets drink the champagne. Because I don’t know about you but I’m not really in the mood to go back to the bar and buy a bottle of something else.’
‘If we did that we’d look even more suspicious.’
So he did think they were being suspicious. She wasn’t sure if that was a comfort or a concern. She watches in silence as Dutchy pours two glasses of champagne. She never drinks champagne - it reminds her of all the reasons she’s never had to drink it. Proposals, weddings, births…those things aren’t part of her life.
Maybe she should give up, aim to be Chief of Navy and forget about men and kids and all those normal things other women had.
Her life had never been normal, why change now?
‘OK, so now you have to tell me why you have a hotel room booked when there’s a free bed just across the street?’
He hands her the champagne and sits down next to her on the bed.
She can’t help but notice how close he is.
‘And then you’re going to tell me why you’re resigning from Hammersley,’ he finished.
Now she meets his eyes again. There’s some kind of intensity in his expression that she hasn’t seen before - but it reminds her of Buffer and suddenly she feels empty. Why is it always sailors? Why can’t she fall for someone normal? She blames Mike.
He was the first Navy man she fell for and since then it’s just been one after the other.
‘I just need some space,’ she replies. ‘Cheers.’
And she follows it with a rather long drink from her glass. Dutchy reaches forward and pulls her hand back so she has to stop.
‘No need to drink like a sailor, ma’am,’ he almost whispers.
Her eyes are just focused on his hand holding hers.
Can she do it?
At that moment every part of her wants to sleep with Dutchy. But she isn’t sure she can.
‘X?’
She looks over at him.
‘Space from who?’ he continues.
Suddenly it dawns on her that he’s probably worried it’s him causing her the trouble. That’s why he’s here, that’s why his hand is still on hers. He confuses her like nothing else but she’s pretty sure she confuses him as well. Yet somehow their relationship works.
‘It’s not you,’ she whispers, and suddenly the situation has became far too intimate for her liking and all she wants to do is run.
But run where? Back to the bar with the others? That won’t help.
She has nowhere else to run.
He’s very close, and his hand is still wrapped around hers, holding the champagne glass away from her.
‘Who then?’ he asks.
She doesn’t have a response, no answer comes to her that seems to make any sense. And so she finds herself leaning forward into his lips and kissing him. She’s not even sure why she’s doing it, but he doesn’t object. His hand leaves the champagne glass and makes it’s way up her arm until he’s cupped her face in his hand.
She’s pretty sure she’s spilling her champagne all over the carpet of the hotel room but she doesn’t care. This was what she needs. An escape from reality, something to distract her from her relationship problems.
Because clearly a make-out session with a crew member was exactly the best thing to distract her from that.
She wanted to hate Mike. He didn’t trust her, he didn’t even understand what he’d done wrong. He never did, that was the problem. He tried so hard and failed every time and somehow she couldn’t even bring herself to hate him for it because most of the time it wasn’t his fault. He was just dense like that.
But knowing he didn’t trust her professionally? That hurt. It really hurt, dug deep into her and she knew she had to find a way.
Dutchy pulls back suddenly and she looks up at him, confused.
‘Are you OK?’
He traces a finger across her cheek and she realises she’s crying. In front of Dutchy. After she kissed him.
She stands up and backs away from him slowly.
‘I’m sorry, I should go,’ she grabs her phone and moves towards the door.
‘X,’ he says quietly. ‘It’s your hotel room. I’ll go.’
He stands up and walks past her. She tries to focus on the ground, at her feet. She’s not sure she can look at him.
‘And X? If you need me, for anything, just call me. Please. I don’t want you here all alone upset like this over whatever it is that’s hurting you,’ he places a hand lightly on her arm.
She jumps slightly and looks up at him, but she doesn’t pull her arm away.
‘OK?’
She nods.
‘I’ll see you in the morning. Try and get some sleep,’ and with that he’s gone, out the door.
She closes it behind him and walks back to the bed, falling on it. For a moment she eyes the un-drunk champagne bottle on the bench - but she doesn’t think that’s a good idea. Not by herself. Maybe all she needs is a good nights sleep and then she’ll feel better.