The Thailand Job

By S. Faith, © 2015

Words: 41,657
Rating: M / R
Summary, Disclaimer, Notes: See Chapter 1.

AO3 has some related links. :)

Epilogue

The glare that Mark got upon entering the office that morning in mid-July suggested to him that the news of his new relationship had finally, somehow, got out. Particularly as the person doing the glaring was a woman who had hoped to snag him for herself.

"Hello, Natasha," Mark had said pleasantly. "Have you seen Rebecca this morning?"

She didn't say anything at all, just turned on her heel and marched away.

"I suppose not," he murmured to himself, continuing on to his own office.

When he got to his office, Mark found not Rebecca, but Giles, and he wore a smile that threatened to overtake his whole face. "And you never said a word!"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Come on," he said. "You don't need to be coy with me. Dating a star on the telly, and you never said a word!"

What Mark had feared had come to pass. "Where did you hear that?"

"It's in the rags," he said, waggling his brows. "You know, the tabloids. The Daily Mail."

"Why would I say anything?" Mark said. "It's nobody else's business."

"So it's true!" Giles said. "You are dating that Bridget bird!"

Mark pursed his lips.

"Giles Benwick, stop haranguing the poor man. He's had a rough day."

It was Rebecca, and she looked stern. Giles immediately looked cowed. "Sorry, sorry," he said, backing towards the door. "It's just… a bit of excitement for the day, isn't it?"

"Go on," Rebecca said sternly. For someone probably fifteen years younger and a hundred pounds lighter than Giles, she was great at bossing him around. It was one of the reasons she made for a great PA.

Once Giles had closed the door behind him, Rebecca said, "I saw the papers. I'm sorry."

"I haven't," Mark said. "How bad is it?"

"Actually, it's not bad at all," she said, and she didn't sound like she was sugar-coating it at all. "I just know how much you hate your personal life out on display."

"I don't suppose you have—"

"I found it online," she said, anticipating his request. She dug into her bag, then drew out a tablet, on which she had previously viewed it.

He winced, then took it to review the item. It featured a photo of himself and Bridget, sharing a parting kiss on the front stoop of her building as he'd left the previous Saturday morning; he knew it had been Saturday because in the picture she was wearing her mackintosh… and very little beneath that, though he only knew that because he had watched her don it. The text beneath spoke of "a new beau for the Smooth Guidess… our research indicates he's none other than Mark Darcy, the noted human rights lawyer who sprung her from a Thai prison this past spring. Good for you, Bridge! We understand he was one of Tatler's—" He lowered it out of his sight, not caring to read on.

"There are worse things to be in the papers for," she offered with a smile.

A small smile found the corner of his mouth. "Always looking for the bright side," he said. "Thanks." He sighed, though he was grateful that the paper had not in fact speculated about what she was wearing beneath her coat. "I'll just set down my case then go get those files from Horatio."

"You don't want me to…?" she began, but trailed off.

"I'll get it," he said. "I can't hide in my office all day."

Shortly afterwards he wondered if he shouldn't have taken her up on her offer. The moment he walked into Horatio's office, Mark noticed the man wore an almost feral grin. "She's a lovely girl," he said, by way of greeting. Mark would have expected Horatio to be above all of this sort of thing, but nothing surprised him anymore, at least not much. Horatio added, "I can't help wondering about that overcoat, though. Bit strange on a summer day, eh?"

Mark willed his face not to burn red hot, but was mostly unsuccessful.

"I'm here for that case file," Mark said.

"No comment. I see how it is," Horatio said. He turned, got the file that Mark had requested. "In all seriousness, I'm pleased for you. She is lovely but I can tell from her television programme that she's a decent, friendly girl." The fact that Horatio had watched Bridget and Daniel's show surprised Mark almost as much as Horatio's awareness of the tabloids. "I know you don't like to talk about your ex-wife, but… well. You deserve something better, after that."

This spot of unexpected humanity took him slightly by surprise, and Mark's only response was to thank Horatio, collect the file from him, and say goodbye.

Fortunately, not a single person that he passed on his return to his own office spoke with him, merely a nod or a smile, or both. He was torn between being mortified and being immensely pleased. When he returned to his office, Rebecca was on the phone.

"No, I'm sorry, he is not available," she said, her gaze flicking upward to look at him. "I will pass on your request, but I can tell you right now he, in all likelihood, won't be interested. Thank you." She put the phone down. "That was The Independent. They wanted to speak to you about today's picture."

"As if there weren't real news about which to report," Mark said, then furrowed his brow. "Wait, didn't they run the picture in the first place?"

"No, that was The Daily Mail."

"Oh, right," he said.

Rebecca chuckled. "How can you confuse the two?"

He shrugged. "I don't read either of them."

She looked at him, then shook her head with a small smile. "I think you are the only one in chambers who doesn't, to be honest," she said. "We PAs do talk amongst ourselves."

He had been so distracted and discombobulated by the events of the morning that he apparently had missed his mobile going off, evidenced by the return of Giles with his broad, broad grin, with Bridget in tow. She was wearing a scarf over her head and a pair of large sunglasses, looking ridiculously conspicuous. Only then did his hand reach for his mobile, only then did he see the string of missed calls and messages from her.

"Sorry," he said. "I didn't hear it ring."

"You heard, then?" she asked. She slipped the scarf down, took off the sunglasses, revealing a worried crease between her eyes as she glanced from Rebecca to Giles. He was confused about her reaction. Surely the press thrusting their new relationship into the limelight was not that much of a problem for her.

"Obviously."

Her mouth turned down in a slight frown. "Can we talk in private?"

"Of course," he said, then led her back into his actual working area, closing the door behind them.

She turned to face him. "I know how furious you must be about this," she said solemnly. "I'm so, so sorry. I never thought in a million years…" She trailed off. "I would understand if you… you know."

"I'm afraid that I don't know," he said.

"I know how private you are," she said. "This might be more than you bargained for."

And then he did understand. He regarded her for a moment. "So you thought I would really chuck you for this," he said, his voice gentle, "for something totally outside of your control?" She didn't answer, only looked sheepish. "What makes you think I'm furious? Do I look furious?"

She pursed her lips briefly then said, "You could be. I can't always tell."

He smiled a little. In some ways it felt like they had known each other for a long time, but in many ways they were still figuring each other out. "If I were," he said, then added hastily, "and I'm not—but if I were, I wouldn't be angry with you."

"But I—"

He stopped her from talking by pressing his forefinger lightly over her lips. "It was a public location, and you are something of a public figure," he said softly. "If it were a shot of you and me through your flat window, I'd be out for blood."

"Really?" she said, slightly muffled. He drew his hand back. "I'm a public figure?" She had gone from nervous to pleased. "Really?"

He chuckled, then took her in his arms. The first kiss, every subsequent kiss… each time held its own special thrill for him. "Really," he murmured, then planted a quick peck on her lips before releasing her. "Are you all right, though? I mean, you're not being harassed, are you?"

She shook her head. "Though I'm sure it's coming," she said. She then offered a lopsided smile. "Frankly, it'll be a change of pace from being accused of hiding a renewed relationship with Daniel. Oh, God, if they ever learnt of your history with Daniel… they'd have a field day."

He couldn't help but chuckle again; he'd never tell, and doubt Daniel would, either. "Come on," he said. "Come and meet Rebecca and Giles. It is your first visit to chambers, after all."

They exited the inner office to find Giles and Rebecca as if they had suddenly been caught trying to listen in on the conversation. "Everything okay?" asked Rebecca, her cheeks tinting pink.

"It's fine," Mark said. "Didn't get to properly introduce you before. Bridget, this is my PA, Rebecca Gillies, and this is one of my partners in chambers, Giles Benwick."

Rebecca came around her desk, held out her hand for a polite shake. "We've spoken on the phone before," she said. "So nice to meet you at last."

Bridget surprised everyone, especially Rebecca, by giving her a big hug, instead. "You made my getting out of Thai prison and coming home so much easier," Bridget said. "Thank you for that."

"You're, er, welcome," she said, her skin now going scarlet; when Bridget drew back, Rebecca fixed her face with a smile.

"So you're the reason Darcy's got a smile on his face these days," Giles said, holding out his own hand towards Bridget. "Aces. Simply aces."

Bridget giggled, then accepted this handshake. Mark thought Giles looked a touch disappointed that he, too, did not get a hug. "A pleasure," she said with a bright smile. "Mark speaks so highly of his partners in chambers." Mark did not show any indication that he was fighting off laughter, thinking of how patiently she had listened to him blow off steam about his frustrations. He noticed that she did not mention Jeremy, which was probably to spare him a further inquisition from Giles.

"Shall I take you around to meet the others?" Mark said, extending his elbow towards her.

She answered by taking his elbow.

"So Rebecca seems really lovely," she said as they went down the corridor. "There's not a… I mean, she's not a…"

He had a feeling he knew what she was trying to ask. "No," he said without hesitation. "There has never been, isn't, nor will there ever be anything between us."

"Because you're her boss?"

"Because she prefers women," he said quietly, considering again his PA's blush when Bridget had hugged her. "And she's young enough to be my daughter."

She laughed, though it was a bit uneasy.

"Okay, step-daughter," he added. "But it still stands. And anyway… I prefer blondes."

At this she chuckled abruptly, then stopped walking, got up on her toes, and gave him a kiss.

"We're in the middle of chambers," he murmured.

"Not the weirdest place I've been seen kissing you," she murmured back, "and at least this time I have my knickers on."

It was then his turn to blush, his shirt collar suddenly uncomfortably tight.

The end.