Archive of Our Own ^beta

They are checking some video files from an alleged alien activities at Clapham Junction when Kate’s personal phone rings and she steps away to answer it, a thin line of worry between her eyebrows as she sees the number. When she returns a few minutes later, the thin line is deeper, and she is staring at the phone as if she doesn't see it.

“Commander?”

“Is everything OK?”

She looks up at Mel and Colonel Ibrahim in front of her at the console with the screen, before returning to the phone in her hand.

“Yes. No,” she sighs, “The school just called. Nicholas is not feeling well and needs to be picked up,” Kate throws a look at her watch, frowning, “And of course I have a videocall with the UN in ten minutes.”

“Kate, would you like me –”

“Colonel, would you mind go and pick up my son?”

If he is surprised at the peculiar request, he does not show it, professional as usual, “No problem, Ma’am.”

“Thank you. I’ve already forwarded your details to the school with my authorisation, you’ll just need to show them your UNIT ID. Nicholas’s teachers have a vague idea of the work I do, and they are aware that a security detail is always available for my child should he need it.”

Mel and Donna, at the other side of the narrow corridor among the many computers, exchange a long, knowing look, one eyebrow raised each. Kate hasn’t even thought to ask them, her friends who could easily pass for the Nicholas’ aunts to not arouse suspicions, no, she has gone straight to ask the Colonel – probably recognisable as a soldier even in civilian clothes.

“Sure thing, Ma’am.”

“Thank you, Colonel,” she smiles slightly at him, and in a moment she is gone with a wave of her hand, already talking in her earpiece with someone between New York and Geneva. The Colonel follows her with his gaze for just a few moments, before he is off to his brand-new recovery mission.

It takes Mel and Donna another couple of seconds to be standing next to one another.

“She asked him directly.”

“She completely bypassed us.”

“And the school has all his details and her authorisation, and they already know he could go and get Nicholas for her.”

“When did she send them? She didn’t have the time to do it when she received the phone-call.”

“So she has already sent everything to the school beforehand.”

“Christofer seemed pretty comfortable with the idea of picking up his Commander’s son from school, too.”

Donna nods in satisfaction, “Attaboy.”

***

“You look so cool.”

The voice coming from the back seat is almost squeaking with excitement, and Christofer has the feeling this is the first time thirteen years old Nicholas has met someone from his mother’s job – the fact that Christofer is tall, completely dressed in black, evidently a soldier, and has made an obvious impression on Nicholas’ classmates is certainly not helping – rows of stupefied middle-scholars’ faces looking at him with their mouths wide open, the surprised and embarrassed teacher, the headmistress worried about doing everything right for Mrs Lethbridge-Stewart’s son, a very dear boy, a pity he is sick, Mr. Ibrahim, sorry, Colonel Ibrahim, is so kind of you to take him to his Mother, we know how busy she is, and what an important woman –

“Thank you.”

“What’s your name?”

“Christofer.”

“I’m Nicholas,” a small hand pops between the seats, and Christofer shakes it, amused at the boy’s serious countenance, “Nice to meet you, Christofer.”

“Likewise.”

“Will you come and get me again? You are, like, super cool, my friends will be mega envious if you pick me up from school again.”

Christofer smiles, “I’m only here because your Mother is engaged in a very important conversation with some equally important people.”

“Can you come the next time she’s busy? When Mum is busy, it’s almost always the babysitter who comes, and I do not need a babysitter, I’m big. Sometimes Gordon comes, when he’s in town, rarely Dad. Can you come?”

“That’s something for your Mother to decide.”

“Okay,” the boy bounces in his seat, and only the seatbelts manage to keep him still, “Do you have a gun?”

The change of subject catches Christofer off guard, “Yes?”

“Can I see it?”

“I think it is something you should ask your Mother.”

“She never shows me hers. She has one, right?”

“I’m not at liberty to answer to that question, Mr. Nicholas.”

The boys giggles and Christofer smiles again at him on the rear-view mirror – he is funny, but in a way that must be devastating after a few hours, and it is easy to see that he must also be a little devil at home. There is something in the boy’s gaze, in his constant chatter, that makes Christofer realise that he must be quite a handful for Commander Lethbridge-Stewart.

He just doesn't know how much yet.

“Are you Mom’s boyfriend? Auntie Mel says you are Mom’s boyfriend.”

Christofer only has to thank his trained and ready reflexes if he manages to get the car back on the right side of the road, and not send both of them crashing into the rows of parked vehicles.

What has the kid just said?

“Be careful,” the boy’s voice – oh, the kid is such an handful that he already feels sorry for his mother – is now almost disinterested, and he’s absentmindedly fiddling with a rubber ball full of water that he pulled out Christofer doesn’t know where from, he certainly didn’t find it in his car, “I don’t think Mum would be happy if we went crashing somewhere.”

***

As they move around the UNIT building, Christofer finds himself with Nicholas firmly attached to his hand, with no intention of letting him go. He is not sure how many times the boy has been in the UNIT tower, but his eyes are wide as saucers as he looks around – he now seems almost calm, no longer the overexcited kid who said a few too many words in the car.

“Everything is so cool.”

Christofer smiles, despite himself amused by the overactive boy, “It is.”

“Is this where the giant dog was?”

“The what?”

“The giant dog. Mum said you were attacked by a giant dog, and that a friend of Grandpa helped you,” Nicholas crunches his faces in confusion, “But maybe it was just a story. If the guy who helped you was a friend of my Grandpa’s, he must have been super old. My Grandpa is dead,” he looks up at him, “Have you ever met my Grandpa?”

“No, but I would have liked to,” to have a daughter like Kate Lethbridge-Stewart, the Brigadier himself must have been an exceptional man, and everything Christofer has heard and read about him only confirms this idea, “I heard he was a great person.”

“Mum says the same. Gordon, too. He met Grandpa,” entering the main deck looking for his Mother, Nicholas changes again the topic of conversation so fast it is impossible to predict him.

“Would you like to come for dinner?”

Taken aback, Christofer looks down at the boy and answers carefully, especially given the boy’s quip in the car, “That’s… something you have to ask your Mother.”

“But would you?”

“I suppose it would be… nice?”

“Great! I’ll ask her. Hi, Morris!”

Literally in a second, Nicholas drops his hand and sprints towards Morris, and the two boys – same age, but so different – start chatting animatedly, perched on two chairs in front of the young scientist’s terminal, where something that looks awfully like Pokémon have suddenly appeared in bright colours.

Christofer smiles to himself – in the hour and a little something that they have been together, Nicholas has proved to be a little tornado, full of energy despite his fever, and he doesn’t want to imagine how challenging, to not say downright exhausting, it must be to manage him at home, especially with a job as demanding as that of the Commander.

There’s a movement out of the corner of his eyes, and Christofer knows that his role as guardian of the boy is over. The Commander is descending the few steps towards her son, and he can see she is happy to see the boy, happy in a way he has never see her, so motherly.

“Thank you, Colonel,” she murmurs at him with a smile, before her undivided attention turns to the her son, arms wide open, “Here is my boy.”

“Mum!”

***

Nicholas is a little avalanche that hits her square in the stomach with his head – he’s still so tiny for his age – but Kate couldn’t care less, she’s just happy to have her boy with her and see him doing well despite the phone call from school.

She hugs him tightly, enjoying the moment – he will soon grow up and enter that standoffish and impatient phase – and she remembers Gordon’s adolescence all too well – but for the time being Nicholas is just his Mum’s boy, and she wants it to last.

“How are you, Nicholas?”

The boy lifts his head towards her and smiles, “A little better. I had a fever in second period, but the nurse gave me something. She was kind. Then in the car it was fun, your boyfriend is nice, even though we almost crashed into a car, and then Christofer –”

There is too much information to register in a single moment, and her head, however trained, goes into overdrive for a few moments and stops listening to her son’s incessant chatting – Nicholas’s fever, the caring nurse, what does it mean they  almost crashed into a car, her –

“My what?”

“Auntie Mel says he’s your boyfriend. Right, Auntie Mel?” Nicholas nods at Mel and then looks back at his mother, tugging at her jacket, “Can Christofer stay for dinner, Mum? Please?”

If looks could kill, Mel would be dead on the floor so fast not even Sutekh and its harbinger that time a few months earlier had been that fast.

***

Mel doesn’t think she’s ever seen Kate so furious – and she’s seen her angry many times, and nervous, and under stress, but always in control, never, ever, so furious, and never aimed at her.

There is an eerie silence on the deck, and Mel is aware that everyone – Rose and Donna, Morris, Shirley, the Vlinx, the whole military unit under Christofer’s command – is furtively watching the four of them – Christofer, still in civvies and strikingly aloof despite the situation, Kate livid as never before, an excitable Nicholas jumping in her arms, Mel herself the same colour as the red jacket she has decided to wear that day.

Busted.

“Melanie. My office, now.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Mum, can Christofer stay?”

“Later, Nicholas.”

With a pat on her son’s head, Kate turns on herself without another word and strides in the direction of her office, the clicking sound of her heels on the polished floor a countdown to what awaits Mel in the office, and Mel follows a few steps behind her, slower.

Just enough time to check that Christofer has also walked away and, passing Nicholas, Mel surreptitiously extends her fist to him. With a sly smile, the little boy pumps into it.

“Great job, kid.”

“Thanks, Auntie Mel.”

***

“You told my son that Colonel Ibrahim is my boyfriend?”

“I am sorry.”

“Are you out of your mind?”

Mel is quite sure that, despite the locked door of her office, Kate can be heard rebuking her from outside, her voice tense and rather high-pitched. For a very brief second, Mel feels bad for her friend, but then it dawns on her that the whole thing could have positive consequences, and goes with the flow.

“I’m sorry, Kate, it was only meant to be a joke, I didn’t imagine that the kid would have, you know… popped it out in front of everyone.”

“You know Nicholas! He cannot keep quiet about anything to save his life!”

“That is true.”

“Did you also tell that to Gordon?”

“Not… directly?”

“What does that even supposed to mean?”

“I suppose that, as brothers, they talk to each other?”

“Good Lord,” Kate pinches the bridge of her nose, the other hand on her hip, and takes a long breath, “So that’s the reason for all his snarky comments about me needing more free time, and his willingness to have Nicholas with him in the weekends?”

“Maybe?”

Kate groans, “You told my thirty-four years old son that his mother has a way younger boyfriend at work?”

“Again, not directly.”

“But you said so to Nicholas!”

“I am sorry, I made a joke, it landed badly.”

Shaking her head, Kate sits at her desk, “That’s an understatement.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll take my responsibilities,” Mel puffs, and the bright red fringe bounces on her forehead, “I mean, it’s not like you are really going out with him, it will calm down.”

There is a strange silence from Kate that goes on for a few seconds too long, and that’s what makes Melanie suspicious – Kate has been so vehement in her reprimand that her silence is at least, how do the Americans say again?, hinky. Mel turns around, and her friend is looking intently at the many papers scattered on the desk – and she has the distinct feeling that she is ignoring her with studious intent.

“Kate?”

She does not respond and continues to read stubbornly the various documents in front of her, but Mel knows that nothing can be more important than the conversation they are having and its possible implications, but from what she can see, Kate is blushing hard and it’s so visible on her cheeks that it is impossible to ignore and –

“Oh my God.”

“Keep your voice down.”

“OH MY GOD.”

“Mel! The voice!”

“Are you kidding me?” Mel plants her hands on the edge of Kate’s desk and leans towards her,  “You are roasting me because I made a joke with your son about Christofer being your boyfriend, and then it turns out you are actually going out with him?”

“Mel…”

“Like, romantically going out with him?”

“No, we just decided to spend some friendly occasions together in our free time because during the day we don’t see each other enough.”

“Don’t get all sarcastic with me!”

“Yes, Mel, romantically.”

Unable to prevent it, Mel smiles, trying not to laugh at the latest developments, “Way to go, Kate.”

Kate rolls her eyes, but does not reply, her cheeks now positively flaming, “I wish it was as simple as a ‘way to go’, Mel. Do you have any idea how many complications can arise? Starting with HR, not to mention our personal involvement during missions, and –”

“These are not important things,” Mel raises a hand to stop Kate’s budding protest, “Do the boys know?”

Kate sighs and looks away, “Not yet.”

There is something sad in Kate’s voice, and Mel softens a bit, “Why not?”

“First, because until proven otherwise, I still have a private life, whatever you all think, and my sons do not need to know everything about it, thank you very much. It would be embarrassing for us all,” Kate hesitates, and it is the first time in the whole conversation that Mel sees her being vulnerable, “Secondly, because I want to be sure. Gordon has already witnessed my previous two relationships end in pieces, and Nicholas was small when the second happened. My sons are my priority.”

“My, if we’re already talking about divorces, the romantic aspect is further along than I suspected.”

“Melanie.”

“Sorry.”

Another long silence. Kate is drumming her fingers on the desk, her other hand barely resting on her lips, deep in thought, and the tapping tempo on the glass surface is getting faster and faster.

Mel glances at her, “What are you going to do?”

“You tell me. You were the one planting ideas in my son’s head.”

“Correct ideas, turns out.”

Kate takes a deep breath and stands up, carefully smoothing the shirt she is wearing – whose dark crimson colour now matches her face perfectly – and adjusts the lapels of her dark blazer, “When you return to the deck, please tell Nicholas to collect his stuff and join me here, so that we can go home. I’m taking the afternoon off,” another deep breath, and she finally looks at her, “I will speak with him this evening. And then Gordon. Good Lord…”

“Speaking at dinner? With a guest, maybe?”

“For God’s sake, Melanie.”

***

The mobile phone – his private number, not the one provided by UNIT for work matter – buzzes on the shelf of the locker room as he is changing to go home. He would recognise the vibration anywhere, it’s a waltz, he chose it on purpose to always know it is her.

Dinner is at 7. Nicholas insists you bring your badge. Apparently it was SO cool.

Christofer smiles, glad she had the occasion to speak with the boy. He has the feeling that Mel has something to do with how the day unfolded, but he can’t figure out exactly how, and, in fact, he cares little. Yes, they might have some explaining to do upstairs – are there people higher up than Kate at UNIT? – and they will certainly have to talk to HR, but he is equally certain that a solution can be found. If working together less means they can date outside of work without problems, that is only fine with him, but the main thing is that their dating is not a problem for her sons.

The phone buzzes again.

Sorry for the mess with Nicholas and Mel. We will have some explanation to give, starting this evening. Nicholas thinks you are MEGA cool, it won’t be that difficult.

He does not even have time to answer that the mobile phone buzzes a third time.

P.s. I also think you’re MEGA cool. Love you.

Christofer’s smile broadens. She is usually telegraphic with messages, writing only the bare minimum – after all, they really belong to different generations, and for her, phone calls or, God forbid, interminable audios are better than messages. At the beginning of their... personal acquaintance, it had been difficult for him to understand what she wanted to say to him with her always minimal messages. Now, it's getting better – she's a little more verbose, he definitely less so than before; she has almost given up sending him very long audios – but, sooner or later, Christofer will have to admit to her that he likes them, because having a recording of her voice talking about anything not related to work is a small pleasure he doesn't want to give up – while he has stopped writing endlessly long messages.

They are finding their own balance and, although adding her sons to the equation – and their friends and colleagues, at that – will not be exactly an easy task, Christofer is convinced that they have what it takes to succeed.

He fishes the keys of his car out of his bag and glances in the mirror – on such short notice, he hopes casual clothes won’t be a problem, but she’s never complained about it before – and then he answers her.

I thought he said I was SUPER cool.

Her reply arrives at lightning speed, something he is not used too – she has been so careful in their first months together, her private messages arrived hours late, each word carefully weighed and thought through, as not to make a mistake or give an unclear impression.

Oh, God, is there a difference?

He can almost feel her confusion in the short message, the way she is trying to follow her young son’s lateral thinking. He thinks he can help her – he has young cousins more or less the same age as Nicholas, and almost as rascals.

We should ask Nicholas. See you later. Love you too, Katie.