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fic: Change In The Weather

Title: Change In The Weather
Author: fengirl88
Fandom: BBC Sherlock/Maurice crossover
Pairing: Lestrade/Maurice
Disclaimer: They're not mine, and it was kopoushka's idea to put them together.
Rating: R
Warnings: None.
Wordcount: ~1000
Summary: Lestrade wonders who in their right mind would want to spend a weekend in the country with their lover's ex-boyfriend. What to look for in August: bad weather, guns and outdoor pursuits.
A/N: This one is for rusty_armour with thanks. 
Written for the square "location: in the rain" on my kissbingo card; the card is here.

ETA: points at shiny new boathouse icon designed by rusty_armour     ♥


Change In The Weather



“Think we might go for a walk this afternoon, if that's all right with you,” Maurice says as they're sitting over their coffee.

“My dear chap, of course,” Durham says. “Whatever you prefer.”

Just as well, Lestrade thinks. He still doesn’t know why he let Maurice talk him into this visit in the first place, and he’s not sure what he might be driven to if he had to spend the whole fucking afternoon out shooting with Durham and his cronies.

He still thinks of him as Durham. He’s not going to call him by the new title (typical of this bloody Government that they’d make someone like that a Lord). And he’s certainly not going to call him Clive. They're not friends, and they're not going to be.

As far as Lestrade’s concerned that man there is still the wanker who broke Maurice’s heart at Cambridge. Not to mention the hypocritical closet case who’d lied to Lestrade and Donovan when Maurice was being blackmailed, and given Lestrade a Know your place, my man look which took him right back to his time in service, before he joined the Force. Lestrade may be a guest at Durham’s table now, and this big house is not that big house, but both men know where the class lines are drawn and which side of them they're on, no point pretending otherwise.

Maurice glances anxiously at him and Lestrade softens a bit. Takes someone as dozy as Maurice not to realize that this was never going to work. Lestrade wonders who in their right mind would want to spend a weekend in the country with their lover's ex-boyfriend. Fuck knows what Durham even thought he was doing inviting them both in the first place.

“Too much paperwork this week,” Lestrade says. “I could do with some exercise.”

Hadn’t meant to make Maurice blush. It’s quite nice when he does, though.

Durham either doesn’t notice or pretends not to. He starts giving orders about the shoot to anyone within bossing distance.

“Come on,” Lestrade says to Maurice under his breath, “let’s get out of here while the going’s good.”

Nice to be out of the house, even though the weather’s hot and sticky. August’s been weird this year; bloody cold for ten days, and now this.

“Going to be a storm,” Lestrade says, looking at the sky. “Clear the air a bit, with any luck.”

“Let’s hope so,” Maurice says. His hand brushes against the base of Lestrade’s spine, as if accidentally.

“Not in front of the servants, my dear chap,” Lestrade says.

“Are you going to go on about that all weekend?” Maurice asks.

He looks crestfallen, obviously thinks he’s made a bollocks of things between them by asking Lestrade to come with him.

“I’ll stop in a minute,” Lestrade says. “Sorry. It’s just - bloody Durham always rubs me up the wrong way.”

“I know,” Maurice says.

His hand brushes against Lestrade’s back again, more deliberately this time. Lestrade’s cock twitches.

“You, on the other hand...” Lestrade says.

“Mm,” Maurice says. “Where?”

Anywhere you like, Lestrade thinks. Everywhere.

The sound of guns announces that the afternoon’s entertainment is just starting, and Lestrade would really like to get away from all that. More to the point, he’d really like to find a quiet spot and shag Maurice’s brains out.

“Why the fuck is there never even a bloody spinney when you need one?” Lestrade says, glaring at Durham’s much too open grounds.

At which point the thunderstorm kicks off, right on cue.

It’s that kind of crazy rain you get sometimes in summer, so hard and so fast you’re drenched before you know what’s hit you, clothes soaked through and clinging to the skin. So wet that you start laughing because it’s actually ridiculous, because you can’t get any wetter than this, because you’re already completely sopping and the rain just goes on coming down.

The sensible thing would be to go back to the house and change. But they’re way past being sensible.

“If I’m going to drown right here you could at least kiss me,” Lestrade says.

Maurice doesn’t need telling twice.

The kiss is mixed with rainwater, running down their faces, not cold but still a contrast to the heat of Maurice’s mouth and his tongue. Lestrade’s hands slip and slide over Maurice’s back, pulling him closer as Maurice groans and pushes his hands through Lestrade’s dripping hair.

“Christ, I want to fuck you,” Lestrade says. “There must be somewhere -”

“Over there,” Maurice says, pointing.

It’s further away than it looks. Bigger, too, of course. Not locked, thank God. Full of junk, mostly, but at least there’s somewhere to lie down.

“If this isn’t the first time you’ve had sex in a punt I don’t want to know about it,” Lestrade warns.

“It’s definitely the first time I’ve had sex in a boathouse,” Maurice says, pulling Lestrade down on top of him.



Lestrade is floating, lazily adrift, feeling the currents of pleasure wash him this way and that. He can’t remember why he was so fed up earlier; sign of a very good shag.

Maurice’s breathing is almost back to normal; always takes him a bit longer to recover. Lestrade teases him sometimes that he needs to get more exercise. Maurice says that’s exactly what he wants. Which is why he was blushing over coffee.

Durham. Lestrade shifts slightly, remembering now. Maurice tightens his grasp, sensing the change.

“You do know you mean more to me than he ever did, don’t you?” Maurice says.

Lestrade feels like all the breath’s been knocked out of him with a sort of whoosh, like being swept up into the air. The only way to get his breath back seems to be to steal Maurice’s, and he does, kissing him again and again as if his life depends on it.

The guns have stopped, or Lestrade can’t hear them any more. Inside the boathouse there’s no sound but the blood drumming in his ears, his breathing and Maurice’s all mixed up together, and the summer rain on the roof.


****


rusty_armour's parody post-ep for Maurice, which sent me back to the boathouse, is here

earlier fics involving these two:

The Old Bad Songs
Beginning To See The Light
A Night at the Opera
Nights at the Opera (2)
Nights at the Opera (3).

Comments

( 34 comments — Leave a comment )
kalypso_v
Dec. 4th, 2010 05:27 pm (UTC)
It's nice that the rain improves the mood... And I love the image of Lestrade floating in the punt and post-coital content.

Plus of course it's entirely right that Maurice should make such an important declaration in their boathouse.
fengirl88
Dec. 4th, 2010 05:35 pm (UTC)
thank you very much!

very pleased you liked that image.

and yes, the boathouse is definitely the place for it...
shezan
Dec. 4th, 2010 05:40 pm (UTC)
I wasn't sure, but this is TERRIFIC. Fascinating pitch-perfect voices!
fengirl88
Dec. 4th, 2010 06:55 pm (UTC)
thank you! very glad you liked it so much. I love writing these two.
selkie
Dec. 4th, 2010 05:57 pm (UTC)
This works so perfectly! I want to throttle Durham. And of course, the second to last paragraph is just love :D
fengirl88
Dec. 4th, 2010 06:57 pm (UTC)
thank you so much! you're right behind Lestrade in the queue to throttle Durham...

*beams at your comment*
warriorbot
Dec. 4th, 2010 06:04 pm (UTC)
I was /just/ holding back on the wibbling 'til I got to "the only way to get his breath back seems to be to steal Maurice’s"

'scuse me while I have a nice cathartic cry.
fengirl88
Dec. 4th, 2010 06:57 pm (UTC)
*glomps you massively*

thank you!
nejem
Dec. 4th, 2010 06:05 pm (UTC)
Oh yes yes yes! This crossover is just PERFECT! And it's exactly what I need to fuel the fantasy in which Mark Gatiss casts James Wilby for season two to be Lestrade's collegue or something, with lots of sexual tension of course... it would be absolutely amazing to see Rupert and James back together again in something more lighthearted than Clapham Junction!

I absolutely adored this! And I hope you'll write more, even if it's probably wishing too much!
fengirl88
Dec. 4th, 2010 06:54 pm (UTC)
thank you - very glad you liked it! *beams*

I have written some other fics about these two (The Old Bad Songs, Beginning To See The Light and the still ongoing Nights at the Opera series) - details in "My fic masterlist" under Links on this page, but I should add the links to this entry as well...

and yes please we want James Wilby in series 2!
(no subject) - nejem - Dec. 4th, 2010 06:56 pm (UTC) - Expand
syien_island
Dec. 4th, 2010 07:10 pm (UTC)
The boathouse!!! *faints from all teh smexy*
fengirl88
Dec. 4th, 2010 07:17 pm (UTC)
*gazes at your icon*

thank you very much!
(no subject) - syien_island - Dec. 4th, 2010 07:42 pm (UTC) - Expand
(no subject) - fengirl88 - Dec. 4th, 2010 08:11 pm (UTC) - Expand
(no subject) - syien_island - Dec. 4th, 2010 09:06 pm (UTC) - Expand
(no subject) - fengirl88 - Dec. 4th, 2010 09:31 pm (UTC) - Expand
rusty_armour
Dec. 4th, 2010 07:53 pm (UTC)
OMIGOD! You're the sweetest person ever! Thank you very much for writing this wonderful fic for me, fengirl88! I'm really touched that you would do that! I wasn't expecting anything like this to come out of my silly Maurice parody! :-D

I was really hoping you would write another installment of your Lestrade/Maurice series as I've really come to appreciate it now that I've finally seen Maurice. I plan to go back and re-read all the stories from this series, but, of course, I just had to read this first.

I think it's great that Lestrade feels so out of place in Clive's country house and feels the class divide. I'm not surprised that he doesn't like Clive given the way Clive treated Maurice and his lack of honesty during the events of The Bad Old Songs. For some reason, I love the image of Lestrade and Maurice getting soaking wet in a summer rainstorm. I can actually picture them running to the boathouse to seek shelter...and other things. *g* It's so sweet that Maurice tells Lestrade that he means more to him than Clive ever did. I'm not surprised the breath was knocked out of Lestrade! :-D
fengirl88
Dec. 4th, 2010 08:16 pm (UTC)
thank you very much! it's a pleasure. I love the icon you made for me. and your boathouse sketch was a wonderfully cheering thing which really brightened up a day when I was feeling low.

very happy that you liked this so much.
*beams*
(no subject) - rusty_armour - Dec. 4th, 2010 09:09 pm (UTC) - Expand
(no subject) - fengirl88 - Dec. 4th, 2010 09:32 pm (UTC) - Expand
et_cetera55
Dec. 4th, 2010 09:23 pm (UTC)
Oh the boathouse and the rain and that wonderful penultimate paragraph! I love these two so much :)
*goes back to read it through again*
fengirl88
Dec. 4th, 2010 09:34 pm (UTC)
*beaming*

so glad you liked it! I was very pleased when I thought of this fic - have been putting off doing the last Nights at the Opera because I've got too attached to the idea, but writing this has made me want to get back to these two...
(no subject) - et_cetera55 - Dec. 4th, 2010 09:39 pm (UTC) - Expand
stellary
Dec. 4th, 2010 10:54 pm (UTC)
“If this isn’t the first time you’ve had sex in a punt I don’t want to know about it.”

“It’s definitely the first time I’ve had sex in a boathouse.”

This exchange put a broad smile on my face. Such gentle teasing.

I felt that this piece has the attributes of a feather: airy, pure, titillating. Oh and, I liked Lestrade's swearing, a nice contrast to the country surroundings and Maurice.

fengirl88
Dec. 4th, 2010 11:22 pm (UTC)
thank you very much! I like your feather image. very glad you enjoyed the fic. my Lestrade is always rather sweary...
(Deleted comment)
fengirl88
Dec. 4th, 2010 11:24 pm (UTC)
hooray! I'm very glad you are. I love writing these two together, and was very pleased to get a plotbunny for them again.
burntcopper
Dec. 5th, 2010 01:03 am (UTC)
When I first started reading this I didn't realise it was part of the rest of the series, then started entertaining notions of how awesome it would be if we could have this as the several years later ending of canon!Maurice - under-gamekeeper whose name I can't remember right now rises to become a rather influential Detective Inspector in the Constabulary. In conclusion: Clive will always be a tosser with a bad moustache and boathouse sex is awesome.
fengirl88
Dec. 5th, 2010 01:00 pm (UTC)
thank you very much!

agreeing with you entirely about Clive, and the boathouse as the best place for sex between these two.

this icon by eumelkeks reinforced the thoughts I'd already had about the links between Scudder in Maurice and the BBC Lestrade. so in Close Analysis (the first Lestrade pov fic I did), Lestrade does indeed have a past as an under-gamekeeper who climbed in through windows and had sex with troubled men from a higher class than his own.

then kopoushka suggested after reading that fic that it would be fun if Lestrade met Maurice in middle age, and that they could meet through a blackmail case - which is how The Old Bad Songs got started. and although I couldn't manage a happy ending for Lestrade and Maurice out of that fic, I couldn't resist going on writing them.
marysutherland
Dec. 7th, 2010 10:16 am (UTC)
I really laughed when Lestrade couldn't find a spinney. But when are we going to get told Lestrade's original name (which you said right at the very start of Close Analysis isn't Lestrade?)

And are we ever getting to hear Lestrade's speech to the Police Federation, or is that a story for which the world is not yet ready?
fengirl88
Dec. 7th, 2010 08:32 pm (UTC)
thank you very much!

thank you! glad you enjoyed that.

the joke about Lestrade's real name was suggested by the icon - i.e. that it's really Scudder... I never tried to explain how this came about, though I toyed briefly with the notion that L might have taken a stepfather's surname (as my own father did when his mother remarried), or might have changed it because of a legacy (see umpteen c18-c19 novels).

the Police Federation speech is one of those stories for which the author is not yet ready, because I couldn't see how it wouldn't be anticlimactic. but if I work out how to resolve that one then I'll tell the hotel to break out the long tablecloths...
(no subject) - marysutherland - Dec. 7th, 2010 08:54 pm (UTC) - Expand
(no subject) - fengirl88 - Dec. 9th, 2010 10:05 pm (UTC) - Expand
( 34 comments — Leave a comment )

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