Author: SilentG
Title: Why He Smiled
Fandom: For The People (TV Series)
Pairing: Jill/Roger
Rating: T
Spoilers: None
Archive: Anywhere – no need to ask – just attribute, and let me know if possible
Disclaimer: Not mine
Summary: Post-ep for S1E9

~.~.~.~.~

WHY HE SMILED
[Day after E09]

The unexpected sight of her took his breath away.

No, really. One minute ago he had been wondering jut two things: if he'd eaten too many steam buns at lunch, and if there was a reason he could conjure to visit Jill in her office this afternoon that wouldn't be weird. Now, his heart was in his throat, there was a weight on his chest, and his knees felt horrible and wobbly.

He'd been surprised two days ago when Jill turned down his invitation to lunch. Not because she'd said no; when years ago he had decided that his counterpart at the Mother Court was worth any wait and any effort, he'd accepted that for every two steps forward with her, there would be at least one step back. Their day in Westchester was definitely at least two steps forward, so it wasn't unpredictable for her to dance a little. Roger Gunn was a patient man.

No, what was surprising was, Jill didn't just say no, she said she had other plans. No, actually that wasn't surprising. What was surprising was, she said she had plans, then she had looked guilty. Only for a moment. He'd almost pressed the point, but fortunately good manners and judgment prevailed, and he withdrew with merely bland good wishes.

So he was surprised. Surprised, disappointed, and dismayed. And today, after puzzling over her reaction for two days to no good effect, he determined to go out for lunch anyway.

Which brought him to this moment. Watching Jill, half a block closer to work than him, walking lockstep with a… respectably good-looking man in a $5,000 suit. His Jill, with her stride that looked calm and effortless at any speed, almost tete-a-tete with her companion. His Jill, her curtain of hair lifting weightlessly onto his shoulder in the spring breeze. His Jill, determined and skittish as a thoroughbred, with a pair of season's tickets in charcoal pinstripe Merino wrapped around her.

Well, to be fair, it was just one stylishly-outfitted arm, resting almost on her waist, perhaps more towards the middle of her back.

Roger stopped dead in his tracks, dragged his gaze away from the couple and towards his own shoes, and took a few deep breaths. When he looked again, they were almost to the courthouse. The suit had his hands on her shoulders, and she was gazing into his eyes. Time slowed as he leaned in to kiss her, then even more when she turned away. She lifted her arms to give her companion a gentle shove as his lips connected with her left cheek.

The suit departed without a word or backward glance, and Roger's heart started beating again as she meticulously wiped her cheek off with the cuff of her spring trench, then, after a moment, symbolically wiped the cuff of her trench on her umbrella.

Realising that he now had an errand to run, Roger turned on his heel and headed uptown.

O.o.O.o.O

"Knock knock."

Of course he'd had a productive afternoon. But that didn't mean he hadn't ruminated.

Consider the evidence.

In Westchester, Jill had said it wouldn't work. But, she'd agreed to lunch with him. But not today. Because she had a date with someone who knew her well enough to try to kiss her.

But she dodged that kiss, strongarmed the kisser, and wiped away the remainder.

And unless he could figure out a way to approach her that wouldn't be weird, he'd have to wait until next week to talk to her about it.

"Just a sec," he said, finishing a scribbled note before looking up. "Jill," he said, only a tiny waver in his voice. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

She looked lovely; her date would have found her irresistible. He found her irresistible. Turns out her spring trench had hidden a clingy dark blue thing that was quite different from her usual modest suits. Her jacket was draped over her arm, her brolly on her wrist. She seemed relaxed and happy.

"Thank you." She looked down and smoothed her skirt.

"What?"

"You said…" She smiled softly. "You said I looked lovely."

"Oh. So he had. So you do."

"Well, thank you again," she said awkwardly, "I, have to go, but I had a quick question. If you have a sec?"

He waved her in and she closed the door. He hoped the apprehension he was feeling didn't show on his face. What was she doing to him?

"I was wondering," she said, a bit breathless for some reason, "If you'd like to have lunch tomorrow."

"Instead of next week?" Was this good news or bad? If she wanted to be done with him, she'd want to do it soon…

She shrugged. "Or as well. I'm also free for breakfast tomorrow…" Oh. He breathed an inward sigh of relief.

"Roger?" He realized he hadn't answered, and her cheerful relaxation was fading in the silence.

"How about dinner tonight?" He blurted. "Oh, or, you said you had to go…"

"Yes. Dinner tonight would be great. Do you want to go together now, or meet later?"

Roger wanted to go that minute with the girl he… liked… on his arm, but he had more work to do, so they agreed to meet at the restaurant at 8.

O.o.O.o.O

She'd changed again, into something even more alluring. Roger had never seen her in red. He longed to touch her bare arms, admire more closely the delicate bones and skin revealed by her draped neckline.

He'd waited for her outside the restaurant, situated on a quiet street. Watched, leaning lazily against the corner post of the now-empty patio, as she loped down the sidewalk towards him.

He seldom had a chance to enjoy her like this, unnoticed, at his leisure. She was carrying herself like she knew how great she looked, and that made him smile. He felt an unaccustomed flutter of anxiety and anticipation.

He could pinpoint the moment she became aware of him; her pace slowed and her eyes got wide for a second, then she gave him a surreptitious once-over. Then with a toss of her head she glided towards him. He was standing up straight by the time she reached his side, where he offered her his arm with a flourish. As she looped her arm easily through his, he turned them momentarily into the wind. Once again that curtain of fluffy hair was lifted, spread itself on the shoulder of her date. Him. He was her date. Roger fancied he could feel each silky strand, and the thought made him hard. He would remember the image their reflection made in a shop window for a very long time.

Dinner was… memorable. He'd decided, while changing into a fresh shirt and tie at the office, to do two things: charm Jill, and enjoy her. He wouldn't let his curiosity or anxiety occupy the landscape of their time together.

He trailed his fingers down her arms when he helped her out of her coat, and she smirked over her shoulder at him as she moved their place settings next to each other at their little table.

One glass of wine was enough to lift her rosy cheeks, the volume of her voice, and the sparkle in her eyes. She was so delectable, and he was so aroused, and the evening flew by too quickly. She waited for him by the door while he paid, and suggested they walk a little.

Whatever had motivated her to seek him out, would soon be revealed he knew. And if it was the last time he got to savour her company this way, he'd made the most of it.

O.o.O.o.O

They walked easily together to a small park with a circle path. Not in lock step, but a pleasing cadence.

"There's this one thing," he murmured, and she nodded. "When you came to my office, you said you had to go, but… here you are?"

"I just blurted it out. I wanted to be able to make a quick exit if things got weird."

"Weird? That you were in such a hurry to see me, you mean? And why was that, by the way?"

"Well, I needed to tell you something.

"Okay."

"I had lunch today, with - someone I used to know. Someone I... went out with. I knew when he reached out last week that there was nothing there, and after meeting him I still know, but... I want to do this," She gestured between them, "The right way."

There it was. His worst fear, and yet, in another way, not really all that bad at all. "Thank you for telling me," he said, schooling his face not to show the intense relief he was feeling.

She searched his face, and he must have done too good a job as her small smile faltered. "I... I'm sorry, I didn't want to spoil... tonight... with talk of the past."

"There's nothing to be sorry for," he said easily, "I'm glad you trusted me enough to tell me." He nodded to a bench under a tree a few yards off the walkway, and guided Jill to it, his hand on the small of her back. Well, more on the curve of her waist.

"Who was he to you?" He asked quietly.

She shook her head. "Roger, I don't think..."

"Tell me," he said.

"Roger?"

He took both her hands in his and leaned in. It was the first time he could ever remember touching her hands, and the contact was riveting. Even as the feeling of her thumbs drifting across the backs of his fingers quickened his body and his senses (! She! was touching him!), he saw Jill's hesitation, discomfort, but also something else. Yearning? Whatever it was, it was the first time she'd allowed him to see it, and her courage and vulnerability filled him with anticipation for what he now had no doubt was to come.

"Jill. Tell me."

His date closed her eyes with a long-suffering sigh, but Roger felt no remorse. He knew this man from Jill's past was no threat, but his masculine pride demanded to know who he was, what he had been to her. He needed to know, what kind of man drew her, and why. How things had broken down, and why.

It was also addictive, coaxing her to yield. Every shiver of tender vulnerability from this powerful, reserved, self-reliant woman sent a shock of arousal through him.

"We worked together, years ago," Jill began, so softly Roger had to lean in further to hear her. "There was... chemistry, but we were both married," she said. "He'd long-since moved on to private practice, but got back in touch when I was going through my divorce." Roger bristled, thinking how curious that this man would know just when to swoop in.

"You had a fling?" He squeezed the hands he was holding, so pliant in his, to show he understood.

Jill nodded. "An affair, yes. But he was still married. I broke it off shortly after, even though it was extremely painful for me..."

"Because that isn't who you are," he said with finality.

"Yes!" She said, opening her eyes to look at him. And the warmth in her expression took his breath away. "It's not just who, it's how. It has to be the right way." Roger nodded. "It took a long time to get over, but I did." She shrugged and looked over his shoulder, "I hadn't thought of Carl in - years - until now."

"Until he found himself unexpectedly free, and called you up to see if you were as well."

Jill waggled her eyebrows and smiled, and he lifted her right hand to his lips and kissed it.

"Yup," She agreed lightly.

He turned her hand over, kissed her palm, then the pulse point at her wrist. "But you're not."

He loved the way her face changed when his lips met her delicate skin. How her breath shallowed, nostrils flared, the tiny muscles around her mouth relaxed, and her eyes drifted almost closed.

"I'm… not," she said finally.

He kissed her.

O.o.O.o.O

He hadn't planned to.

He thought of Jill as a shark in a boat. He'd gotten her on board, but she was still wild, dangerous, and unpredictable. His plan had been to approach her slowly and carefully, and gentle her and gentle her. But her closeness and sweet admission had unexpectedly overwhelmed his better judgment, and here he was, her hands on his shoulders, her soft, warm mouth on his, and two-thousand dollars in pinstripe blue Merino wrapped around her.

There was a second part to that metaphor, he let his mind drift to occasionally… a shark on its back was as meek and pliant as a kitten. But that was for another day.

Right now he was immersed in the manifold sensations of Jill's unambiguous response. She was a wonderful armful; how would he ever let go? The instant she realized what he was doing, her gaze moved to his mouth. They both leaned awkwardly towards each other until he scooted to her side and embraced her. Her skin was unbelievably soft. Her lips… that he'd thought about so often… plump and firm. Who knew that he would be letting a hank of hair slide through his hand.

She was so warm! The material of her clingy red dress was lighter than it looked, and beneath it he could feel the shifts of the long muscles of her torso. Up close, he was aware of the bright, waterfall scent of her spring perfume that he'd caught whiffs of over the years. It brought him a small but satisfying sense of completion to now be the one allowed to drink it in at his leisure.

The girl of so many dreams kissed him back unreservedly, and the contact he'd been yearning for for so long, elevated his arousal to an acute level. He tried not to explore her body beyond what was appropriate for a first date, even as her left hand drifted from his shoulder to his nape, and her right tugged him flush with her.

After what seemed like a lifetime of exploring Jill with his mouth and hands, he felt her shiver. She touched her forehead to his and he knew it was time to escort her home. Still holding her tight, he drew her up with him and gently guided her back towards the restaurant.

After a few minutes of companionable silence, Roger felt compelled to speak a murmured confession. "I saw you. Coming back from lunch with him."

Jill turned on her heel to look at him as they walked. "You saw me? And you brought me out here to dinner and didn't say anything?" Jill rolled her eyes.

"When I saw him walking back with you, with his hands on you..."

"One hand. It was one hand..." Jill smiled.

"Really?" He deadpanned back. "It seemed like about a hundred."

She leaned over and buried her head in his shoulder. He bent to kiss her crown.

"I like it when you do that."

"I'm embarrassed. For you."

He barked a laugh and whispered, "Alright yes. One hand. One not-so-innocent hand in the middle of your back, holding all my hopes and dreams and dangling them over the abyss."

"All your hopes and dreams..." Jill mumbled skeptically into his shoulder.

"All my hopes and dreams, yes." He leaned in again and whispered, "But when he leaned in to kiss you and you turned your head so he'd miss your mouth," Roger bent and kissed her once again. Jill didn't hesitate to mould her entire body to his, from the calf she wrapped suggestively around his, to the soft cheek that brushed against his as his mouth moved over hers.

He clutched at the softness and strength of this lovely woman like a drowning man.

O.o.O.o.O

Much later, he felt himself drifting into a contented sleep.

"And?"

He reached over and let a lock of her tousled hair slip through his fingers. "And what?"

"You saw me turn my head, and then what?"

It took Roger a second to realize what she was referring to.

In his warm, rumpled bed, with his warm, rumpled co-worker exhausted from sighing and straining under him, phase one of all his hopes and dreams fulfilled, he answered, "And then I knew you were mine."

"WHAT? YOURS!?" She sputtered. "Of all the…"

He silenced her with a kiss.

Oh yes, she was his.

And he'd enjoy the battle it would take to convince her.

~.~.~.~.~

A/N: Please review! I treasure every word like a dragon does… treasure!

Word count: 2830. Uploaded Sunday, March 3, 2019