[ under my skin 1/1 ]
Title: Under My Skin
Fandom: Sea Patrol
Pairing: Dutchy/Kate, Mike/Kate
Words: 2070
Summary: 'It was almost like some form of self torture - inviting her out places, being happy when she agreed, all the while knowing she was really in love with Mike Flynn.'
Dutchy watched Kate carefully across the table. He hated what he was doing to himself but he couldn’t stop it. It was almost like some form of self torture - inviting her out places, being happy when she agreed, all the while knowing she was really in love with Mike Flynn.
But he enjoyed spending time with her, and every time he found himself feeling lonely or bored suddenly he’d end up texting her or calling her or simply knocking on her front door and dragging her to breakfast.
Actually they had breakfast quite often.
He enjoyed that part the most. Waking up in the morning and knowing that even though she wasn’t by his side he was going to see her before he did anything else was enough. Well - it was something.
He watched as she stirred her coffee, yawnin g slightly and he smiled. I loved how they didn’t even need to talk, sitting there in silence seemed to be an acceptable part of their relationship…friendship. Whatever it was.
‘Sorry, I’m not very awake this morning,’ she muttered, yawning again as she did so.
He didn’t mind how awake she was, as far as he was concerned she was beautiful even when she was half asleep. His stomach dropped as he had the thought and he looked away, needing to focus on something else - anything else. Kate McGregor was not the kind of person Dutchy fell for.
He didn’t fall for his superiors. He went for the young, blonde, scantly dressed, model types that he located in the bars and clubs around Cairns. Or at least he thought he had. And then he’d met her.
She was blonde, but that was about where the similarities ended. Nothing about Kate was anything like any girl he’d ever dated.
To start off with she wasn’t a girl, she was a woman. Not that he knew her exact age, but she had to be at least his age, if not older. He knew better than to ask the age of a woman who could kick most guys asses.
He was pretty sure she couldn’t kick his ass. But he knew she’d give it a good try anyway.
Letting his eyes roam back to her he realised his mistake. He’d forgotten to respond.
‘Yeah, sorry. Me neither,’ he smiled.
She smiled in return and he liked that he could at least pretend that her smile was an involuntary reaction to his own. He knew he pretended a lot of things about her meant more than they probably did.
But he kept his hope.
Dutchy had never been the kind of person to look at things in a negative light. And since he couldn’t find the positive one he was just going to pretend like there was something good about the whole situation.
In reality he hated it, it was eating away at him.
He wanted to think of her as just a friend, a really awesome friend who he had breakfast with every day - but the truth was as hard as he tried, he couldn’t. How was he supposed to pretend the most amazing woman he had ever met was nothing more than a friend?
The answer was he couldn’t, and it hurt. Every day it gnawed at him.
He’d tried his best to ignore the way she looked at the CO, the way the CO looked at her. But he couldn’t, the two of them were subtle in their actions but neither of them could hide how they felt. Not now that he knew, not since he’d seen them kiss.
The kiss.
He thought about it constantly, which was ridiculous. It had been a moment of panic, she’d thought the CO was dead - they all had - and no matter how hard she had tried to suppress her feelings he knew, he understood, she’d had to kiss the CO in that moment.
But he wished he’d never witness it. Because now all he could wonder about was how long? How strong were their feelings for each other?
And he wondered how she would’ve reacted if it had been him she thought was dead. That thought rang through his mind a lot.
‘Yeah, I can tell,’ she said.
‘What?’
He knew she couldn’t read his mind but for just a moment his insides froze. If anyone had mind reading powers it would be her.
‘That you’re not entirely awake,’ she finished, taking a sip from her coffee and looking around.
‘Oh, right,’ he relaxed slightly in his seat and smiled. ‘So, you think the rest of the crew is hungover?’
‘I’m not hungover,’ she replied instantly, defensive.
He leaned forward.
‘I didn’t say you were,’ he paused for a moment and stirred his coffee for no particular reason. ‘I am.’
‘I know,’ she was smiling, but there was a hint of something more behind her eyes.
Her eyes that always said so much. He frowned, wondering what he’d said to her last night. He couldn’t remember saying anything specific, especially nothing that could be construed as suspicious.
After all Mike Flynn had been there.
What he does remember is sitting with her on the couch, her leg pressed again his, the bare skin of her arm brushing against his as she leaned forward to grab her drink or place it back on the table. And he remembered how often she’d repeated the unnecessary action.
He closed his eyes for a moment and then looked back up at her.
‘Was I really smashed?’ he wasn’t sure how much she remembered.
His memories were kind of vague.
‘Very,’ she replied. ‘But then again so was everyone else.’
‘Except you…’
She looked away and he wondered what he’d said wrong. Maybe it hadn’t been what he’d said, but how he’d said it? He hadn’t meant to sound so melancholy about the fact that she’d been sober, but part of him had wondered if she had been so touchy feely without alcohol what she’d have been like if she’d been as plastered as the rest of them.
‘I can’t,’ she replied.
Now he was confused again. She had an ability to do that, and he suddenly understood how Mike Flynn always looked lost when she walked away from him at the end of a conversation.
‘OK,’ Dutchy replied.
He didn’t really understand, but he figured it was better to cut the conversation short before it got any more awkward.
They both fell back into silence and Dutchy couldn’t help but feel a vague hint of sadness as he looked down at his empty plate and empty coffee and realised it was probably time to head to the Hammersley.
‘We should go,’ she stood up quite suddenly. ‘If we’re late I’m the one who’s going to get the blame.
He knew what that meant. It meant that if they were late and together the CO would think something had happened and react badly. Of course she couldn’t say that, wouldn’t say that, and he knew better than to ask the true meaning of her words.
‘Yeah, I’ll get the bill,’ he didn’t wait around to let her argue.
He could feel her eyes watching him as he paid. He hated how she did that, watched him when she thought he wasn’t looking. The amount of times he’d found her watching him working out would’ve been awkward if he didn’t enjoy catching her so much.
‘Your girlfriend is spoilt, you always pay,’ the girl serving him stated, smiling.
He didn’t mean to glare at the girl, but he was sure he did because her smile faded slightly.
‘Fifteen dollars,’ she said, subduedly.
‘Sorry, I’m a little hungover,’ Dutchy tried to cover up.
‘No worries,’ the girl handed him his change. ‘Have a good day.’
‘You too,’ he muttered as he made his way back to Kate.
She was leaning against the door, car keys in hand. They drove separately to the Hammersley every morning. Neither of them had ever discussed it, it wasn’t some big plan to hide anything from anyone - but it just made things easier when it came to dealing with Mike Flynn and it had become an unspoken agreement between them.
‘So, see you there?’ she said.
‘Actually I was wondering if I could grab a lift…’ he hated saying it, it sounded like some sort of plan to make them look suspicious.
The look she gave him was even more confusing than her earlier statement that had left him lost. It was some sort of mix between confusion, anger and joy.
‘I’m pretty sure I’m still over 0.05,’ he explained. ‘So I walked here - but the Hammersley is a little far.’
Her confusing look disappeared and she smiled in her knowing way. ‘Ah.’
‘Is that OK?’
He wasn’t asking as a concerned passenger scabbing a lift. And he felt like some sort of mistress who shouldn’t be anywhere near the car.
‘Absolutely,’ she signalled for him to follow.
They walked to the car in silence and he couldn’t help but concentrate on exactly how close she was walking to him. Maybe it meant nothing, maybe that just meant she was comfortable with him. He sighed inwardly, he wished every little thing she did didn’t mean something to him.
It was stupid anyway.
She was taken.
Not in the literal sense, but there was no chance any other man had a chance. Not now, not ever.
They sat in silence in her car, and he remembered why he owned a convertible - there wasn't much space in a normal car for someone his size.
‘You know I only drive when I meet you for breakfast,’ she commented as they drove.
‘Why?’ he asked.
‘I take too long to get ready,’ she smiled as she said it but he knew what she was saying.
Why did she always have to talk in code? If it wasn’t one of things he admired so much about her he’d probably hate her for it. She had a point though, he couldn’t think of one morning when she’d looked like she’d just rolled out of bed.
Although with her it was possible that she rolled out of bed looking like she did without spending any time in front of the mirror.
He had to admit he tried his best to look good when he met her for breakfast as well.
It took them less than five minutes to get to the Hammersley and he felt almost disappointed. Normally he would look forward to work because it meant he got to see her, but on the mornings they spent together he dreaded it. Because he was already with her, and he had her to himself. On board he knew he had to share - and like the only child he was he’d never been a big fan of sharing.
He didn’t miss the look Mike Flynn gave them as they arrived, and he would’ve felt content with that if he hadn’t known better. But he did know better, and Mike Flynn’s quiet look of despair as it dawned on him that he might be losing Kate only served to hurt Dutchy more.
Mike wasn’t the bad guy.
He watched as Kate approached him, the XO appearing all of a sudden, and he stood back as they spoke. The CO kept glancing at him and he felt like he was being drilled into the ground by the other man.
It wasn’t that Mike was mad at him, not at all, but he could sense it. That something was happening - and he knew the CO had no way of knowing how innocent it was. Well, how innocent the physical part of their relationship was anyway.
And he knew neither of them understood Kate at all.
He made his way towards the ship.
‘Dutchy,’ she called after him.
He stopped and waited for her, catching the CO’s eye as he did so. He didn’t feel happy that she was joining him, didn’t feel enjoyment from the fact that the other man looked so distressed. Because he understood, the fear, the uncertainty - the only difference was that he knew.
Kate McGregor would always love Mike Flynn.
But as she reached his side and they walked onto the ship together he took some comfort in the fact that for that moment she was by his side. He was the one she had chosen to walk on board with.
And like everything else it was something small.
But it was something.
Fandom: Sea Patrol
Pairing: Dutchy/Kate, Mike/Kate
Words: 2070
Summary: 'It was almost like some form of self torture - inviting her out places, being happy when she agreed, all the while knowing she was really in love with Mike Flynn.'
Dutchy watched Kate carefully across the table. He hated what he was doing to himself but he couldn’t stop it. It was almost like some form of self torture - inviting her out places, being happy when she agreed, all the while knowing she was really in love with Mike Flynn.
But he enjoyed spending time with her, and every time he found himself feeling lonely or bored suddenly he’d end up texting her or calling her or simply knocking on her front door and dragging her to breakfast.
Actually they had breakfast quite often.
He enjoyed that part the most. Waking up in the morning and knowing that even though she wasn’t by his side he was going to see her before he did anything else was enough. Well - it was something.
He watched as she stirred her coffee, yawnin g slightly and he smiled. I loved how they didn’t even need to talk, sitting there in silence seemed to be an acceptable part of their relationship…friendship. Whatever it was.
‘Sorry, I’m not very awake this morning,’ she muttered, yawning again as she did so.
He didn’t mind how awake she was, as far as he was concerned she was beautiful even when she was half asleep. His stomach dropped as he had the thought and he looked away, needing to focus on something else - anything else. Kate McGregor was not the kind of person Dutchy fell for.
He didn’t fall for his superiors. He went for the young, blonde, scantly dressed, model types that he located in the bars and clubs around Cairns. Or at least he thought he had. And then he’d met her.
She was blonde, but that was about where the similarities ended. Nothing about Kate was anything like any girl he’d ever dated.
To start off with she wasn’t a girl, she was a woman. Not that he knew her exact age, but she had to be at least his age, if not older. He knew better than to ask the age of a woman who could kick most guys asses.
He was pretty sure she couldn’t kick his ass. But he knew she’d give it a good try anyway.
Letting his eyes roam back to her he realised his mistake. He’d forgotten to respond.
‘Yeah, sorry. Me neither,’ he smiled.
She smiled in return and he liked that he could at least pretend that her smile was an involuntary reaction to his own. He knew he pretended a lot of things about her meant more than they probably did.
But he kept his hope.
Dutchy had never been the kind of person to look at things in a negative light. And since he couldn’t find the positive one he was just going to pretend like there was something good about the whole situation.
In reality he hated it, it was eating away at him.
He wanted to think of her as just a friend, a really awesome friend who he had breakfast with every day - but the truth was as hard as he tried, he couldn’t. How was he supposed to pretend the most amazing woman he had ever met was nothing more than a friend?
The answer was he couldn’t, and it hurt. Every day it gnawed at him.
He’d tried his best to ignore the way she looked at the CO, the way the CO looked at her. But he couldn’t, the two of them were subtle in their actions but neither of them could hide how they felt. Not now that he knew, not since he’d seen them kiss.
The kiss.
He thought about it constantly, which was ridiculous. It had been a moment of panic, she’d thought the CO was dead - they all had - and no matter how hard she had tried to suppress her feelings he knew, he understood, she’d had to kiss the CO in that moment.
But he wished he’d never witness it. Because now all he could wonder about was how long? How strong were their feelings for each other?
And he wondered how she would’ve reacted if it had been him she thought was dead. That thought rang through his mind a lot.
‘Yeah, I can tell,’ she said.
‘What?’
He knew she couldn’t read his mind but for just a moment his insides froze. If anyone had mind reading powers it would be her.
‘That you’re not entirely awake,’ she finished, taking a sip from her coffee and looking around.
‘Oh, right,’ he relaxed slightly in his seat and smiled. ‘So, you think the rest of the crew is hungover?’
‘I’m not hungover,’ she replied instantly, defensive.
He leaned forward.
‘I didn’t say you were,’ he paused for a moment and stirred his coffee for no particular reason. ‘I am.’
‘I know,’ she was smiling, but there was a hint of something more behind her eyes.
Her eyes that always said so much. He frowned, wondering what he’d said to her last night. He couldn’t remember saying anything specific, especially nothing that could be construed as suspicious.
After all Mike Flynn had been there.
What he does remember is sitting with her on the couch, her leg pressed again his, the bare skin of her arm brushing against his as she leaned forward to grab her drink or place it back on the table. And he remembered how often she’d repeated the unnecessary action.
He closed his eyes for a moment and then looked back up at her.
‘Was I really smashed?’ he wasn’t sure how much she remembered.
His memories were kind of vague.
‘Very,’ she replied. ‘But then again so was everyone else.’
‘Except you…’
She looked away and he wondered what he’d said wrong. Maybe it hadn’t been what he’d said, but how he’d said it? He hadn’t meant to sound so melancholy about the fact that she’d been sober, but part of him had wondered if she had been so touchy feely without alcohol what she’d have been like if she’d been as plastered as the rest of them.
‘I can’t,’ she replied.
Now he was confused again. She had an ability to do that, and he suddenly understood how Mike Flynn always looked lost when she walked away from him at the end of a conversation.
‘OK,’ Dutchy replied.
He didn’t really understand, but he figured it was better to cut the conversation short before it got any more awkward.
They both fell back into silence and Dutchy couldn’t help but feel a vague hint of sadness as he looked down at his empty plate and empty coffee and realised it was probably time to head to the Hammersley.
‘We should go,’ she stood up quite suddenly. ‘If we’re late I’m the one who’s going to get the blame.
He knew what that meant. It meant that if they were late and together the CO would think something had happened and react badly. Of course she couldn’t say that, wouldn’t say that, and he knew better than to ask the true meaning of her words.
‘Yeah, I’ll get the bill,’ he didn’t wait around to let her argue.
He could feel her eyes watching him as he paid. He hated how she did that, watched him when she thought he wasn’t looking. The amount of times he’d found her watching him working out would’ve been awkward if he didn’t enjoy catching her so much.
‘Your girlfriend is spoilt, you always pay,’ the girl serving him stated, smiling.
He didn’t mean to glare at the girl, but he was sure he did because her smile faded slightly.
‘Fifteen dollars,’ she said, subduedly.
‘Sorry, I’m a little hungover,’ Dutchy tried to cover up.
‘No worries,’ the girl handed him his change. ‘Have a good day.’
‘You too,’ he muttered as he made his way back to Kate.
She was leaning against the door, car keys in hand. They drove separately to the Hammersley every morning. Neither of them had ever discussed it, it wasn’t some big plan to hide anything from anyone - but it just made things easier when it came to dealing with Mike Flynn and it had become an unspoken agreement between them.
‘So, see you there?’ she said.
‘Actually I was wondering if I could grab a lift…’ he hated saying it, it sounded like some sort of plan to make them look suspicious.
The look she gave him was even more confusing than her earlier statement that had left him lost. It was some sort of mix between confusion, anger and joy.
‘I’m pretty sure I’m still over 0.05,’ he explained. ‘So I walked here - but the Hammersley is a little far.’
Her confusing look disappeared and she smiled in her knowing way. ‘Ah.’
‘Is that OK?’
He wasn’t asking as a concerned passenger scabbing a lift. And he felt like some sort of mistress who shouldn’t be anywhere near the car.
‘Absolutely,’ she signalled for him to follow.
They walked to the car in silence and he couldn’t help but concentrate on exactly how close she was walking to him. Maybe it meant nothing, maybe that just meant she was comfortable with him. He sighed inwardly, he wished every little thing she did didn’t mean something to him.
It was stupid anyway.
She was taken.
Not in the literal sense, but there was no chance any other man had a chance. Not now, not ever.
They sat in silence in her car, and he remembered why he owned a convertible - there wasn't much space in a normal car for someone his size.
‘You know I only drive when I meet you for breakfast,’ she commented as they drove.
‘Why?’ he asked.
‘I take too long to get ready,’ she smiled as she said it but he knew what she was saying.
Why did she always have to talk in code? If it wasn’t one of things he admired so much about her he’d probably hate her for it. She had a point though, he couldn’t think of one morning when she’d looked like she’d just rolled out of bed.
Although with her it was possible that she rolled out of bed looking like she did without spending any time in front of the mirror.
He had to admit he tried his best to look good when he met her for breakfast as well.
It took them less than five minutes to get to the Hammersley and he felt almost disappointed. Normally he would look forward to work because it meant he got to see her, but on the mornings they spent together he dreaded it. Because he was already with her, and he had her to himself. On board he knew he had to share - and like the only child he was he’d never been a big fan of sharing.
He didn’t miss the look Mike Flynn gave them as they arrived, and he would’ve felt content with that if he hadn’t known better. But he did know better, and Mike Flynn’s quiet look of despair as it dawned on him that he might be losing Kate only served to hurt Dutchy more.
Mike wasn’t the bad guy.
He watched as Kate approached him, the XO appearing all of a sudden, and he stood back as they spoke. The CO kept glancing at him and he felt like he was being drilled into the ground by the other man.
It wasn’t that Mike was mad at him, not at all, but he could sense it. That something was happening - and he knew the CO had no way of knowing how innocent it was. Well, how innocent the physical part of their relationship was anyway.
And he knew neither of them understood Kate at all.
He made his way towards the ship.
‘Dutchy,’ she called after him.
He stopped and waited for her, catching the CO’s eye as he did so. He didn’t feel happy that she was joining him, didn’t feel enjoyment from the fact that the other man looked so distressed. Because he understood, the fear, the uncertainty - the only difference was that he knew.
Kate McGregor would always love Mike Flynn.
But as she reached his side and they walked onto the ship together he took some comfort in the fact that for that moment she was by his side. He was the one she had chosen to walk on board with.
And like everything else it was something small.
But it was something.