Chapter Text
part i
You are cordially invited to the wedding of DI Eileen Montgomery and Dr James Edwards.
Predictably, Kate is late. It's only partially her fault; if the taxi had come straight away when she remembered that she had forgotten to pre-book one, she would absolutely have made it before they started playing the music. However, there's football on today, which the driver seems to have forgotten and he takes the most ridiculous route out of the city, and so she's stuck slipping into the back row, trying to ignore the dirty looks she's getting and to make as little noise as possible with her clacking heels. Her seat, while far back, isn't a bad one; the woman in front of her is relatively short and has thankfully forgone a hat in favour of an elaborate up-do, and so Kate can see and hear reasonably well.
She mostly manages to keep it together during the ceremony, although when James starts crying during the vows she doubts there's a dry eye in the house. It's beautiful, to see how in love they still are after all this time, their two daughters who are the flower girls jubilantly chucking petals at each other in front of the altar. She tries very hard not to remember what it was like to stand there herself, to feel so sure that this was going to be forever, and even worse that later she will be going home to her new flat alone.
Maybe you'll pull! Steve had tried to cheer her up. She'd asked him if he fancied coming, once it became clear that Mark wouldn't, that it was finally, entirely over between them, but he's at a gig this weekend and she knows better than to come between him and music.
She really hopes there aren't any sleazy, recently divorced men that Eileen has felt the need to place at her table, because it's one thing to be going through a divorce; it's another thing to be humiliatingly set up at a wedding.
As she walks into the reception, she reaches the the table plan at the same time as the lady with the nice hair, and Kate's a little taken aback at how completely stunning she is, in a beautifully fitted boat neck navy dress with delicate white flowers up one side. Kate awkwardly looks down at herself, at the bought-in-the-sale dress she's worn to at least two other weddings in the last three years, and the shoes that don't really go, and self consciously runs her hands through her hair.
"God, it's hard to see, isn't it?" the woman says in a soft Scottish accent, leaning closer to the plan. "Should've brought my glasses."
Kate smiles back. "Doesn't help that it's an absolutely massive wedding. Twelve tables? I think I had about three at my wedding."
The woman laughs. "What's your name? I'll keep a look out."
"Kate. Kate Fleming." She's about to ask the woman her name, when she lets out a triumphant noise.
"Aha! Kate Fleming." She points at table seven, at the edge of the plan. Then she tilts her head. "Oh dear."
"What?" For a stupid, irrational minute, Kate imagines that Eileen has forgotten to take Mark off the plan and she's going to be stuck with a humiliating space beside her that screams "I've just been dumped!" to everyone around her. But then she remembers that this lady doesn't know her, or her pathetic life, and maybe she just needs to calm the fuck down.
"I'm afraid you're going to be stuck with me." The woman points to the name next to Kate's. Joanne Davidson.
Kate smiles at her. "Nice to meet you, Joanne."
"It's Jo." They shake hands, and Kate subtly looks around, but Jo seems to be on her own as well. Perfect. Suddenly, the idea of coming alone isn't as terrible anymore. She's met someone she seems to be able to speak to fairly easily, she's not the only one without a date, and Eileen has managed to resist the urge to set her up like she was threatening to do. Things are looking up.
***
Jo, it turns out, is very funny, and Kate finds herself speaking to her for most of the night. James' second cousin is on her other side, and he keeps telling her extremely boring stories about his job as a tax adviser, but when Jo returns from the bathroom between courses and catches the end of one of these thrilling tales, she rolls her eyes at Kate and draws her into conversation which they keep up all the way through the main course and dessert.
Unexpectedly, Kate is having a fabulous time. She finds herself opening up about her impending divorce, but weirdly she doesn't feel the normal gloom coming over her. Jo is wry and dry and Kate hasn't laughed like this in a really long time.
Jo mentions she's in the police as well but neither of them linger on that topic; there's nothing worse than a bunch of coppers getting together and just talking about work the whole time, plus Kate doesn't want to ruin the night by revealing that she's anti-corruption. But it's easy to make conversation anyway, the wine and the food and Jo's pretty, low laugh make the evening fly.
After dessert, the central tables are pushed to the side to make room for the dance floor, but Kate's not nearly drunk enough for that yet. To her pleasant surprise, Jo shows absolutely no inclination to strut her stuff either, and instead seems content to stay at the table with Kate, sipping the bottle of white they liberated from one of the other tables where everyone seems to be on spirits instead.
"I'd forgotten what she's like after a few drinks," Kate grins, pointing to Eileen who is dragging her poor husband around the dance floor. "She was always a menace on a night out."
Jo laughs. "Probably a good thing I resisted most of the team nights out back then, they sound dangerous."
Kate looks over at her curiously. Jo's not really disclosed much about her personal life, but she did say that her and Eileen were posted together when Eileen was fresh out of the academy and Jo was a newly minted DC. She finds herself burning with curiosity about this funny, smart, beautiful woman, who is so charming and at the same time so closed off. Why is she here alone? She's heard all about Kate's disaster of a life but she hasn't mentioned a boyfriend or a husband, or an ex, and suddenly Kate's struck with the awkward thought that she might be cramping Jo's style.
She's just about to say something like I won't be offended if you want to go dance, to stop herself from saying something more stupid like so how come you're here all by yourself?, when Eileen staggers over to them, beaming. "I'm so glad you two are getting on. I just knew it." She sways a little and Kate jumps up quickly and steadies her, laughing. "I told James I should set you up with Jo and not one of his mates."
"Thank god for that!" She distinctly remembers the last time her and Mark split, before their reconciliation, when Eileen was setting her up with a what felt like never ending series of the worst of James' friends from medical school.
Eileen nods her head so enthusiastically that one of the petals from the flowers in her hair falls into Kate's mostly-empty wine glass. "I did the table plan and POW!" She makes a big gesture with her hand and Kate grins as Jo has to jump up and to the side off her chair to avoid the champagne flying out of Eileen's glass. "I knew you two were meant to be."
"Wow," she mouths at Jo, who smiles back, but it doesn't seem to reach her eyes.
"Excuse me," she says softly, putting her glass down and heading to the door of the ballroom. Kate watches her go, slightly concerned at the change in her new friend, but then Eileen sways and she's distracted again.
"You might want to slow down, mate," she tells the bride, holding her up in a half hug.
Eileen kisses her cheek. "I am so happy you are here, Fleming. And that you've hit it off with Jo. You two would make such a cute couple."
Kate freezes as it dawns on her what Eileen was actually doing. She's told Eileen for years that that one night out when they were going through Ryton was a fluke, that she's straight, and she thought Eileen got that. And now she's bloody made Jo feel so uncomfortable she's fled.
Possibly seeing Kate's stricken expression, James comes up to them, a fresh glass of champagne in his hand for Eileen, and Kate gratefully hands her off and hurries outside. Jo still hasn't come back.
She checks the ladies room but Jo's nowhere to be seen, and with a sinking feeling in her stomach she heads back into the reception area, wondering what to do now. And then she catches sight of a petite frame, lit up by the moonlight, standing out on the patio.
She's suddenly, inexplicably nervous. Still, she's not one for letting things fester. Better to clear the air straight away. "Hey," she announces herself, picking her way across the gravel to the grass where Jo is standing, looking over the grounds of the estate. She's glad Jo only half turns her head, because Kate is not used to heels and she doesn't exactly look very elegant right now. "You ok?"
Jo turns to her then with a smile that doesn't reach her eyes. "Sure. Just wanted some air."
Kate nods. She wishes she had pockets to slip her hands into, and instead crosses her arms and looks down at the carefully manicured lawn under her strappy sandals. "Look, I'm sorry if Eileen made you uncomfortable in there. I'm not... I mean...." She doesn't really know how to put it and awkwardly trails off.
Jo stares at her and Kate realises that she probably has no idea what she's on about. She tries again, tries to make her tone light and joking. "I mean, you know what it's like in the force. People make assumptions about female officers all the time, especially if you're single." She goes for a grin but is sure it's probably more of a grimace. "All it takes is a short haircut."
Jo goes very still and then takes the smallest step back, and although her face hardly moves, Kate sees something flash across it that makes her stomach bottom out. Oh shit.
"It's fine, Kate," she says in the flattest tone Kate has heard from her all day.
"Shit, I'm sorry." If the suspicion that has just occurred to her is right, Kate has just really put her foot in it. "I didn't mean it like-"
"It's fine." Jo lets out a little huff of a laugh that sounds anything but fine. "But if it makes you feel any better, it wasn't you she was making assumptions about."
Kate is mortified. She blames too many years working with Steve and all the stupid banter that goes along with that. She feels awful. "I didn't mean that the way it sounded."
"Seriously, Kate, it's fine." Jo gives her a weak smile. "Let's just go back in."
Without really thinking about it, Kate reaches out and softly touches Jo's arm, stopping her. "No, please, I'm sorry." She swallows hard; she's never really spoken about this before with anyone, certainly not relatively sober, but she owes it to Jo. "I only said that because I was worried it had made you uncomfortable." Jo doesn't look at her, but she hasn't walked away either so Kate continues. "Truth is, one time, during a night out at Ryton, we went to this gay bar because we didn't want to get hit on and I ended up getting with someone. Another woman." Jo turns to look at her then, her eyes wide with surprise. "It never happened again and I told everyone it was a fluke, that I was really drunk. But Eileen never believed me, and I think she thought maybe we would hit it off."
This time, Jo's smile reaches her eyes, and Kate sags in relief. "Thank you for telling me. Sorry for being stroppy."
"You weren't-"
"I'm not really out, at work." Jo looks down, embarrassed, and Kate strokes the hand that's still resting on her arm up and down the soft, warm skin of her arm. "It's hard enough being a woman, but being a lesbian as well..."
"I think you're really brave, telling me." Jo scoffs but Kate steps right in front of her, forcing eye contact. "Thank you."
For a moment, Jo's bottom lip wobbles and Kate is worried she's going to cry, but then Jo takes a couple of deep, shuddering breaths and smiles again. "Do you want to go back in? Maybe dance a bit?"
Kate winces. "I'm not really that good at dancing, especially in heels."
"No excuses, Fleming." It's like a cloud has lifted from Jo; she tugs Kate by the hand back towards the house, and Kate grins and lets her. "Just take your shoes off if you have to."
***
Is it Jo dragging her onto the dancefloor as the macarena starts that does it? The tequila shots Kate gets them from the bar afterwards? The way Jo in her heels is almost as tall as Kate in her bare feet and insists that she should therefore lead during a slow dance in which she tries and fails to teach Kate how to waltz, and they collapse laughing into two chairs at the side?
All Kate knows is that the evening is starting to take on that fuzzy, golden blur when time stops existing and you can't remember specific conversations but you definitely know you're having a great time, and so when the lights switch on and everyone starts gathering up their things, she's pretty gutted. It's the most fun she's had in months and months.
"Share a taxi?" she asks Jo, wincing as she sees the queue at the reception desk.
Jo hesitates. "I actually have a room here."
And Kate shouldn't feel so disappointed, but she's is. Of course Jo has a room here; she's sensible and plans ahead. And if she's from out of town that makes total sense. "No worries."
"Kate." Jo hesitates and then takes her hand. "There's no point in you hanging around here waiting for a taxi for an hour. Want to come up and wait in my room? They gave all the wedding guests complementary fizz?"
Kate thinks she probably shouldn't have any more, because her heart seems to be thumping pretty hard and the world is soft and a little fuzzy round the edges, but she can't think of a single thing that she would like more than continuing the evening, and so she nods and they fall into the lift, laughing at the way Kate trips on the open straps of her heels, laughing all the way to Jo's room.
The minute they enter, Kate slips back out of her shoes, sighing as she feels the soft, expensive carpet on her feet. "Shoes that uncomfortable should be illegal."
Jo laughs, stepping neatly out of her own and heading over to the table where the complimentary bottle and two glasses stand. "But they look so good!"
Kate doesn't know what gives her the confidence to say it; probably the vast quantities of alcohol they have consumed in the last hour. "That your type, then? Women in heels?"
Jo lets out a laugh, but it's a cute little hiccup, not like the cold brittle laugh from earlier, outside, when Kate had been an ass. "Not really."
Kate drops onto the small sofa, taking the flute of prosecco from Jo's hand. "I wonder if my love life would be less fucked up if I was into women."
"That is such a straight woman thing to say!" Jo's own voice has lost some of it's definition, the alcohol softening her syllables and blending them together. "Two women is twice the drama."
"Hmm." Kate thinks back to Mark and his pettiness. He's the single most passive aggressive person she's ever met. "I don't know, in my experience, men are a lot of drama too."
Jo sits down next to her, her legs crossed, pulling up her tight dress and exposing some ridiculously toned thighs. "Maybe you should give it a go, then. I mean, you did say you got kissed a woman once?"
Jo's tone is light, but there's something in it, or maybe it's something in Kate, that suddenly makes her palms sweaty. Because suddenly all she can think is why the hell not? And what a ridiculous thing to think, just because Jo is gay doesn't mean she automatically has to fancy Kate, except... except she invited Kate up to her room, and spent all night with her, and when Kate looks up at her Jo is smiling; a small, soft, tentatively hopeful smile that Kate suddenly has the almost irresistible urge to kiss.
Alcohol has always made her brave. Or stupid. Maybe both.
She places her flute down on the small table and turns to face Jo, reaching out and placing her hand very slowly, very gently, on Jo's knee. "Maybe I should."
"We don't know each other," Jo says, and it sounds like she means it as a positive, rather than anything they should be concerned about. "It doesn't have to be.... We're just two women who-"
"-who like each other," Kate finishes her sentence, sliding closer like drawn in by a magnet. Jo's eyes are on her mouth, and fuck, this is actually happening. "We're both single, just letting off some steam..."
"Exactly." Jo's voice is barely a whisper. It dances across Kate's mouth, and then they both lean in and kiss and it's soft and warm and any hesitation Kate may have felt is out of the window. They kiss slowly, and Kate gets the distinct impression that Jo is trying to be considerate, but she wants more, wants it now, and tugs at Jo to slide over into her lap. Jo gasps in surprise, opening her mouth, and suddenly their tongues are sliding together and it's no longer soft; it's firm and demanding and Kate is so ready for this.
Almost without permission her hands start sliding up Jo's thighs, pushing up her dress, and Jo is gasping and kissing her neck and Jesus Christ, she's wearing suspenders.
Jo gets to her feet, lipstick smeared a little, holding out her hand. "Take it off me?" she asks, gesturing to the zip at the back of her dress, and Kate eagerly helps her, feels her mouth go dry at the sight of the black bra and pants and the suspender belt above them. "Still ok?"
In response, Kate reaches round her own dress and undoes the zip in one smooth motion, letting it fall to the floor. Jo's eyes go wide and dark, and then they come together again, a jumble of hands and mouths and sighs as they stumble to the bed. They land in a heap, laughing into their kiss, plucking at their underwear and at the pins holding up Jo's bun.
It's fun. Kate forgot, for a while, that sex could be fun. That it could be something more than a desperate attempt to cling to intimacy, to feel something, some closeness with another person. That it can be about more than scratching an itch.
Because yeah, she's worked up - Jo is an excellent kisser and Kate hasn't had sex in a couple of months now - but she's also genuinely just enjoying it, the freedom of doing this with someone who she trusts but doesn't know, who she likes but will never see again.
It's somehow not as awkward as it can sometimes be, to roll between the sheets with a stranger. "Ok?" Jo asks her, before she slips her fingers inside and swirls Kate's clit with her thumb. "Alright?" she asks Jo in return when she slips her own hand down into Jo's wetness, and Jo bites her shoulder gently as she sighs. It's easy, somehow, to learn about what she likes when Jo is so vocal, so happy to nudge her hand slightly over or gasp harder, faster while she claws at Kate's back.
Sometime after the second time Jo makes Kate's toes curl, they take a break. Jo offers her a makeup wipe out of her neatly packed cosmetic bag and they stand next to each other in the unflattering hotel bathroom light, wiping the remains of mascara and each other's lipstick off their faces, making slightly sheepish eye contact in the mirror. At Kate's suggestion, they then share the squashed piece of wedding cake wrapped from her handbag, laying it on a napkin between them as they perch on the bed.
"So, as first experiences go," Jo asks, breaking off a piece of cake from the icing to eat it first, "how would you say this is going?" She's smirking as she says it, probably because the scratches down her back give a pretty clear indication of how much Kate has been enjoying herself.
"Yeah, it's alright," Kate says, faux casually, grinning widely at the mock outraged look on Jo's face, and snagging another piece of cake from between them on the bed.
There's a comfortable silence for a minute, as Kate revels in how good she feels and wonders if Jo might be up for another round.
"I don't do this a lot," Jo suddenly says, and her tone isn't jokey anymore. "I'm not good with relationships and, well, I don't have to explain to you how hard it is to meet people in our job..." She looks away, clearly embarrassed. "I don't know why I'm telling you this."
Kate reaches across the bed and covers Jo's hand with her own. "Sometimes it's easier to tell a stranger? I mean," she huffs out a breath, heart suddenly thudding, "I've never told anyone that I might...that I sometimes like women too, and yet here we are."
Jo squeezes Kate's hand back. "I don't mean to tell you what to do, but personally I think it would be a waste if you never did that again. You're pretty good at that."
Embarrassed and pleased, Kate leans over and kisses her. They both taste like icing and jam and it's ridiculous and somehow just right. "You should too, you know. Give someone a chance."
"I'm a hard woman to love." Jo says it lightly, gathering up the napkin, but it makes Kate's heart ache.
"You're smart and funny and you can waltz! You're a catch!"
"You don't even know me." Still, Jo looks a little happier. Pleased, Kate stretches, and the blanket she's wrapped around herself slips, and suddenly Jo's eyes darken, and Kate raises her eyebrow and they're kissing again, oblivious to the cake crumbs and the way the sheets are starting to curl away from the mattress.
Kate's not usually the type for half-drunk, fucking-all-through-the-night-until-they-pass-out one night stands, but after everything she's been through, she decides that she has earned this. A night of uncomplicated, no consequences fun.
After all, it’s not like they’re going to see each other again.