Thursday evening arrived and as soon as she finished work, Jac changed into a pair of trousers and a blouse that she had been waiting for an excuse to wear. Fletch had given her no details, and so she had hoped for the best and dressed classy.
They had agreed to meet in Pulses, not hiding the fact they were going out after work but still refraining from advertising it. Fletch would drive so that Jac could drink if she wanted to. Emma would stay at Fletch's again tonight.
"Ready to go?" Fletch greeted as she left the stairwell and found him, leaning against the wall casually.
"No, I thought we'd better stand around for half an hour doing nothing before we go...as long as you don't mind?" She drawled sarcastically, walking past him and heading for the door.
Over the past few days, they had fallen into the habit of hello and goodbye kisses and it was bizarre not to, but the both of them were hyperaware that there were about ten nurses in the room right now that would spread the information like wildfire.
It wasn't until they were inside the car, sheltered from prying eyes, that Fletch leant over the gearstick and let his lips meet Jac's for the first time today. He felt her smile into the kiss and couldn't help but smile back, drawing away slowly and looking at how marvellous she was.
"So, where are we headed?" She asked curiously, dropping her handbag down into the footwell.
"Somewhere suitably decadent, I assure you," Fletch replied enticingly, making her ever more impatient to know his plans.
They drove in the comfortable quiet that came at the end of a busy day, and Jac wondered if she would be able to hear Fletch's heart if only she listened closely enough.
His hand moved to the gearstick and shifted them into fifth, and there it remained. As if it was second nature to her, Jac covered his hand with hers and intertwined their fingers.
They stayed like that until Fletch turned into a parking space on the side of the road in the middle of town and removed the key from the ignition. Jac reached down for her handbag and opened her door before getting out.
Once on the pavement, Jac linked her arm through a waiting Fletch's and let him guide her a short way to a restaurant she had never visited before. It looked Italian - that was acceptable - and it looked clean - that was acceptable too.
Fletch pulled open the door and followed her through it, being met by a waiter asking if they'd made a reservation.
"It's under Fletcher," he answered, following the waiter as they were guided to a small booth. They were left with two menus and a basket of fresh bread. "Up to your standard, Naylor?"
She rolled her eyes at him, taking a seat and flipping open the menu.
The two of them decided on what they wanted. Jac went with a beef ravioli with red pesto. Fletch went with a calzone. A glass of red wine and a glass of tap water were delivered to the table and they were left alone to wait for their food.
"So, Miss Naylor, what do you look for in a potential suitor?" Fletch asked in a demure tone, batting his eyelashes dramatically as he sipped his water.
"Maturity, an understanding of the pressure of my job, and a commanding presence. Well done, you came up trumps!" Jac offered sarcastically as she took a bite of bread. "Okay really though, there's only one question I ask on first dates; if you could do anything tomorrow, anything you could possibly imagine, what would it be?"
"I would take all the money in the British government right now and I would invest it in the NHS and I would make it an independent organisation that isn't under government jurisdiction, so they can stop screwing us over." His answer was poignant and honest and exactly what she had been looking for. "What about you?"
"That isn't how it works. You don't get to ask me my own question, come up with your own question!" She retorted childishly, taking another bite out of her bread roll.
It took Fletch a long minute of watching her and wondering what he ought to ask. He observed the way she ate with an elegance that was entirely unparalleled, he noticed how she sipped her wine with the perfect etiquette, he took in every detail.
"Your calzone, Sir," the waiter interjected as he approached the table and set down the plate in front of Fletch. "and your ravioli, Madam. Is there anything else I can do for you?"
Jac shook her head firmly and the waiter scuttled off awkwardly, leaving them to their food. She picked up her fork and took a bite of ravioli.
"If you could bring one person back to life, who would you pick and why?" Fletch questioned before attacking his calzone with his cutlery.
There was a look of confusion on Jac's face as she chewed though her mouthful and swallowed, wondering why he had thought to ask it and what he expected her answer to be.
"Jasmine," she answered simply, "because she had potential and I could've helped her become something great."
Things became far more light-hearted from there; they ate and they laughed and they chatted non-stop. When the bill came, Fletch insisted and for the first time, Jac gave into his wishes.
Stepping back out into the street, it had gotten chilly and the moon had risen entirely. The pavement was painted with milky moonlight and the lights of the buildings spilled down to complete the scene. Jac let a shiver run through her body as she adjusted to the cool weather, only to feel Fletch's jacket slip around her shoulders without a word.
Jac turned to see Fletch and somehow in that moment, he became the most handsome man she had ever seen. He was a collage of every time he had helped her out at work, every cup of coffee he had brought her when she needed it, every reassuring touch, and every second he had fought to make her believe that he wasn't going to run.
Almost without thinking about it, she kissed him again and caressed his stubbly jaw. He tasted of tomatoes and toothpaste and something sickly sweet, and she caught his lower lip between her teeth. His arm was still wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her closer as he allowed his tongue to find hers.
They stayed locked in an amorous embrace for some minutes before they were reminded of where they were by a car racing past and they drew back from one another.
Fletch kept his arm around her shoulders as they made the short journey back to the car, watched as she slipped away from his hold and walked around to the passenger's side.
"Thank you for tonight, Fletcher, truly," she offered as she pulled the car door closed and reached for her seatbelt. "It was lovely."
His hand settled just above her knee, a gentle smile on his face as he let this memory set firm in his mind. She took his hand in hers and held it there for some time, if she let go, it meant the night was over and she would have to return to an empty house.
