Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Everyone always said that Spring was the season of new beginnings. After all, spring cleaning, baby animals, eggs and pretty flowers were some of its defining features. But Miss Holloway had always thought of Autumn as the time for new starts. Maybe it her settling into teaching more, but every year, when September rolled around, she'd feel that sense of excitement that came with starting something new. Even if she was going to be teaching largely the same cohort as last year.

The sun had only just come up when she had pulled her 1987 Pontiac Firebird into the parking lot of Hatchetfield High. Usually, Miss Holloway would prefer to still be tucked in her warm bed at this hour, but she had some things to sort through before her students arrived for the start of the new academic year. She let the last bars of the song on the radio play out, some song about not forgetting about people, before switching it off. Turning to her passenger seat, she sighed at the mountain of sheet music piled there. She had planned to sort it all over the holidays, but time had apparently slipped away from her.

She clambered out of her door and went around to the other side to pick up her music, pulling denim jacket tighter around her as she did so. Autumn had most certainly arrived, despite how recently she had been lounging in the sun and longing for rain. She picked up her large pile of papers and nudged the door shut with her side, then made her way to the office to sign in.

"Good morning, Charlotte!" She smiled at the receptionist. Charlotte was a lovely woman, and, if the gossip was to be believed, had recently gone through a divorce. Miss Holloway was inclined to agree with the speculation on this occasion, as Charlotte seemed much happier than she usually was, and, having met her husband, that seemed like an appropriate response for being free of him.

"Oh, good morning Miss Holloway! How was your summer?" Though most teachers went by their real names when not talking to students, Miss Holloway had always much preferred going by her "teacher name", as it were, something that the other staff members had been surprisingly accommodating of. She'd never really explained why, other than a few comments about a bad history, but they respected it nonetheless.

Miss Holloway picked up the pen next to the sign in sheet and ticked next to her name. "It was good, thank you. Though I had plenty of planning to do."

"Ah, of course. The Halloween Showcase." Charlotte nodded. While most schools put their focus on a Christmas play, or a Summer concert, Hatchetfield High had adopted the tradition of a Halloween Showcase, where students could perform a song, a dance or a short scene. "What have you got in store for us this year?"

"I couldn't tell you that, Charlotte, it'd ruin the surprise!" She teased "Although I can tell you it's going to be one hell of a show."

"Well, I look forward to it." Charlotte laughed. "Oh, and the new drama teacher showed up. I sent him down to your office, but he might well have gotten lost."

She'd almost forgotten she'd be getting a new drama teacher to work with. The previous one had moved to Clivesdale, something that while abhorrent, had at least proven Miss Holloway's long held belief that he was an awful person.

"I'll keep an eye out for him, thanks!" She called behind her as she made her way down the corridor.

Miss Holloway had forgotten just how far it was from the school entrance to her office, especially when one was carrying a large stack of paper. As she approached the music and drama department, she spotted a man standing there, looking somewhat apprehensive.

"You the drama teacher?" She asked, making the man jump slightly as he turned to look at her.

"Yes, that's, uh, that's me. I'm Duke. Duke Keane." He smiled.

Miss Holloway bit back a giggle at his nervous disposition. It was rather endearing, she thought. "Well heya Duke! I'm Miss Holloway, I teach music."

He reached out to shake her hand, before withdrawing it awkwardly upon noticing the mountain of sheets in her arms. She laughed, and Duke relaxed slightly.

"Do you want a hand with those?" He asked, more at ease than before.

She was glad he was less jumpy than before. Her confident and slightly strange character did have the tendency to throw people off, and she was keen to not got off on the wrong foot with Duke.

Miss Holloway shook her head. "I'm alright. Could you get the door for me, though?" She gestured to her — their — office door, which Duke opened obligingly.

He followed her into the small room, watching as she dumped her things unceremoniously onto her desk.

"That's yours" She pointed to the desk across from hers. His eyes widened as he took in the tall piles of sheets, books, and all manners of stationery.

She chuckled at his look of slight panic. "It's not as bad as you think. Most of it is waste paper that can go straight in the bin. The rest are books, and those can just go in your classroom."

He nodded. "I'll have to see if I can find some shelves around here, though. It seems my predecessor took all the furniture from my room. I had a bit of a poke around earlier."

"And here I was thinking you were lost. Turns out you're just nervous." She smiled. "I wouldn't worry. The drama kids are a fun bunch, and they didn't much like the old teacher, so they're looking forward to having you this year."

"Who was the old drama teacher? All I've heard about him is that he was kind of awful."

"To be honest, that pretty much sums him up. His name was Barry Swift. He never really had time for anything or anyone. I ended up taking over all of the performing arts clubs because he was "In too much of a hurry" to run them."

Miss Holloway jumped up to sit on her desk, looking at Duke. "What about you?"

He frowned "What about me?"

"I've told you all about Mr Swift, but I don't know anything about you. So, spill."

Duke raised an eyebrow. "I don't seem to remember you telling me anything about yourself either, Miss Holloway."

And I probably never will, she thought bitterly.

"I asked first."

An amused smile settled on his face. "Alright then. I'm Duke Keane, I used to be a social worker, and now I work as a Drama teacher. I have a cat called Holly — which given your name is kind of ironic now I think about it — and I love fireworks."

"Fireworks, huh?"

"I always used to go see them with my dad when I was younger. I just think they're pretty." She noticed the look of nostalgia on his face. It was quite sweet, honestly.

Very sweet, came a voice from the back of her head. She was rather looking forward to working with Duke.

"Y'know, I've never really seen—"

"Astrid!"

Miss Holloway's blood ran cold. She knew that voice. More than she cared to, in fact. Not only that, but she knew full well that he was the only person who would dare to call her that.

For god's sake, why does he have to ruin everything good in my life?

Against every instinct, she turned to see none other than Wilbur Cross. The man who had made her life a living hell. God, he had some nerve showing up here again. She opened her mouth, already on the offensive, when she spotted Duke in the corner of her eye. He frowned, presumably at the way she had tensed up when she heard him.

The last thing I want is for Duke to think I'm some kind of bitter ex-girlfriend on his first day.

Sighing, she resolved to be as nice as she could — not that the man deserved it, of course. But she was doing this for Duke. And, she supposed, that made it worth it. Besides, she couldn't be sure how Wilbur would react if she tried arguing with him. She couldn't risk it.

"Wilbur." She put on her best fake smile. "How are you?"

He grinned, the familiarity of the expression making her shudder. It was disarming, the way he could charm everyone in a room, and then become a monster behind closed doors.

"Oh, I'm just fine, love." He turned to Duke, who seemed thoroughly confused by the whole situation. "And who's this?"

"This is Duke Keane, the new drama teacher." She said. "Duke, this is Wilbur Cross, my—"

"Boyfriend" He finished, his lips quirking up in a rather off putting fashion.

She glared. "Ex-boyfriend"

"Oh, come now, did we every really stop loving each other, Astrid?"

The way he said her name made her skin crawl. "I certainly did." She muttered.

Duke cleared his throat, and both pairs of eyes snapped to his. "Well, I'm sure you two have a lot to catch up on, so—"

"No, it's okay Duke. I'm sure Wilbur has lots to do. I'll catch up with him later." She gave Duke a look that said please don't leave me here with him. He seemed to understand, moving imperceptibly closer to her.

Wilbur raised an eyebrow. He saw right through what she meant, and she knew it. Luckily, he didn't push. "Yes, of course. Well, I look forward to seeing you around, Astrid. I'm sure I'll need some guidance, what with me being new to this whole teaching thing."

Her stomach dropped. "You're.. what?"

"A new teacher." He said with faux innocence. "Oh, didn't I tell you? I'm the new PE teacher here."

Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh—

"Well, it was lovely meeting you, Wilbur, I'm sure." Duke replied. Miss Holloway silently thanked him for getting him to leave

"Anytime, Duke. Oh, and Astrid? I love the jacket." He flashed a grin, before walking out of the office.

Holloway felt Duke's hands on her shoulders, and looked up to see his concerned face. "Miss Holloway?" He asked. She took a deep breath, forced every last painful thought into a corner of her mind, and responded.

"I'm okay."

While she may have been no stranger to lying, especially since Wil… Since him, this was possibly the least truthful thing she had ever said.

"Are you sure? Because I'm not entirely sure what that was, but it certainly didn't look good. And I'm getting worried."

He was worried about her. That was a new concept to her, someone caring about how she felt.

"…No." She sighed. "Not really."

He stepped back, now she was talking again, and pushed the stuff on his desk to the side and sitting down, still not taking his eyes off of her. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Did she? Well, she probably should, but that was different to wanting. Besides, she hardly knew this guy, though that didn't seem to deter him from acting how he did. Not that she didn't appreciate it.

"He's my ex boyfriend. We broke up about seven years ago, mainly because he was…" She paused, trying to decide how best to phrase it. "He wasn't a good boyfriend."

Duke's eyes widened. "He didn't—"

"No. Sometimes it felt like he wanted to, but I don't think even he would go that far. He was toxic, controlling more than anything. When I left, he kind of got it into his head that I still loved him. That if he kept trying, I'd come back. I thought he'd given up by now, but apparently not."

There was, of course, far more to it than that. The reason she hated being called by her first name, why Wilbur mentioned the jacket, how there was so much more to her past than just Wilbur, and how that past was exactly the reason she'd fallen victim to him in the first place.

"Is this going to be okay? Him working here, I mean." Duke asked quietly.

Absolutely not.

Miss Holloway shrugged. "Maybe? I mean, the general lack of overlap between sports and music does afford us some separation. But thank you. For asking, for caring, all of it."

"Of course. And look, if he does become a problem, then tell me. I still know some people from my old job who could help." He offered.

"Thanks. But I'll be fine."

But even then, she knew, there was no way she would be.

Chapter Text

Duke did not like that man one bit.

Granted, he hadn't known Miss Holloway for very long at all, but his experience as a social worker had trained him to look out for certain things. And while Miss Holloway had explained the situation to him, Duke wasn't sure she had given him the whole truth. Not that she had to, by any means: Her life was her own, and he didn't want to pry, but there was something off about the whole situation.

It was strange, how fiercely protective he'd felt towards her when Wilbur had come in. He assumed it was instinct by now, after having worked with people in dangerous situations for most of his adult life. But even then, he couldn't recall a case ever affecting him this much.

Maybe he was overthinking this. After all, Miss Holloway was an adult, and by all accounts, a confident and brilliant one. And his strong reaction could've been due to the stress of the morning, of being in a new place, with a new job, and all of those things.

Although…

Something was still bothering him. It was the way her demeanour changed as soon as Wilbur walked in. All of a sudden, it was like a mask had slipped on. One with a perfect smile and well choreographed movements, designed just to suit him. And Miss Holloway didn't seem like the kind of person who would usually let people treat her in a way that made her uncomfortable.

She was giving very mixed signals, Duke thought. One moment she looked scared out of her mind, and the next she was assuring him that there was nothing to worry about, and that she was fine. In any case, he couldn't force her to do or say anything. He would just have to keep an eye on them both, and make sure Wilbur wasn't crossing any lines.

The sharp pealing of the bell pulled him from his thoughts. In all that had happened, he had almost forgotten that he had a class to teach. He pulled up the lesson plan and scanned it quickly as students began to file in. This was a group of freshmen, so at least they knew as much about the school as he did.

Once all the kids had arrived, he split them into groups and got them to play some acting games. By the end of the hour, he had managed to learn most of their names, and even had a few asking him about the Halloween showcase.

The rest of the classes that day passed in much the same way. Most of the kids were surprisingly well behaved, considering he was a new teacher, and this was probably a class that most kids didn't want to take, but had to so they could get the performing arts credit they needed to graduate.

At lunchtime, he found himself wandering back to the Performing Arts office, where Miss Holloway was sat on her desk. She was staring out of the window, watching the rain fall, looking very peaceful. Somewhere in his mind, Duke noticed that she looked quite pretty, sitting there, but he quickly pushed the thought away. It was hardly appropriate for him to think about a fellow teacher like that.

"You good there, Duke?" He jumped at the sound of Miss Holloway's voice. She turned to look at him, smirking slightly. He took a moment to get his breath back, causing her to laugh quietly.

Duke smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, I just didn't want to disturb you." He gestured towards the window. "I take it you like the rain?" Duke had never been particularly partial to wet weather himself, always preferring the warm summers, where one could spend hours in the sun with friends.

She nodded. "When I was little I'd spend hours outside, splashing in puddles and dancing in the rain." A soft grin spread across her face. "You know, Autumn is my favourite time of year. All the pretty coloured leaves, and thunderstorms, and— Oh!" Her face lit up as she continued, getting more animated by the second. "There's this firework show, every year at Halloween! It's so magical, and they use the special quiet fireworks so it's not too loud. I went every year, until…" She trailed off, the joy sliding from her face as fast as it had appeared.

Duke frowned, concerned at her fast change of demeanour. He opened his mouth to ask her about it, but she recovered quickly. "Anyway, that's enough about me. How has today been? New school, new year, it's a lot." She was deflecting, and he knew it, but she had a look of desperation in her eyes, one that told him that now was not the time to prod further.

"Pretty good." He replied, still somewhat concerned. "Most of the kids have been nice, and I managed to find the staff room at break time without getting lost."

Miss Holloway chuckled, the tension slowly melting from her face. "That's good. It took me ages to figure out where things were when I first started here." They spoke for a little while longer, about the school, and Miss Holloway's plans for the rest of the year. Duke tried very hard to remain focused on her words as opposed to the fears about her situation swirling in his mind.

"…I'm also planning a trip to take some students to go see a show next month, although I'm not quite sure what we should see." She looked up, like she'd just realised something. "You said you like musicals, didn't you?" He nodded. "You see, as much as I love music I've never actually seen a musical, so would you be able to have a look at anything on nearby to see what's good?"

"Of course!" Truth be told, the idea was rather exciting to him. He hadn't seen a show in years, and he knew there was a theatre not so far from here that tended to host touring productions of Broadway shows.

Miss Holloway smiled. "Great! You do that, then, and send me the details. Oh, and—" She was cut up by the sharp ringing of the bell, signalling the end of lunch break.

"Never mind", Miss Holloway said, packing her things into her bag. "I'll tell you later!" She waved goodbye as she headed out of their office, towards her classroom.

The rest of the day passed without incident. Duke made his way back to the drama studio, and taught his last class of the day. Since they were older students, who were all fairly self sufficient, he had plenty of time to research musicals.

It took a while for him to find a musical that would be both interesting and suitable — although, suitability rather depended on the ages of the kids they were taking. He sent Miss Holloway a quick email, checking who they were bringing.

Hiya Miss Holloway!

Just wanted to check which year group you're planning on taking to the musical? I don't want to pick anything inappropriate!

-Duke

He peered over his computer, checking that all his students were alright. They all seemed to be engrossed in their work, so Duke looked back to his screen, noticing that he already had received a response.

Heya Duke!

Probably the seniors, so most stuff should be fine!

-Miss Holloway

Duke mulled over her response for a few minutes. Taking the seniors was useful, since he had fewer limitations on what they could go and see, but it did make it harder to find something that would interest them. Pausing his search, he typed out a quick reply.

Thanks! I wasn't expecting a response that quickly :)

-Duke

He considered for a moment whether or not the smiley face was unprofessional, but his worries were quickly dispelled.

No problem! I'm just catching up on paperwork whilst the kids are all in the practice rooms, so you're a welcome distraction :)

-Miss Holloway

It took a moment for Duke to register the grin that had settled on his face. 'Welcome distraction'? He could count on one hand the number of times people had been happy to receive an email from him — usually, he was sending messages to somewhat negligent parents, or the hugely uncooperative headteacher of Hatchetfield High. It felt… nice. More than nice.

Glad to help! :)

-Duke

It took Duke a few moments to realise that several of his students were staring right at him. Eventually, he noticed, looking over at them from his somehow already cluttered desk. They were whispering to each other, giggling occasionally.

"You kids alright? Need a hand with the work?" He asked, in the tone of voice that suggested he knew full well they weren't talking to each other about the work. Almost immediately, all the chattering stopped, and they each froze. Duke chucked. "Well, now I've got to know what you were all asking about" The students looked at each other, seemingly debating their next move.

"Come on, guys, as long as it isn't illegal I won't tell." Duke joked, before frowning and leaning in. "It's not illegal, right?" They all laughed at that.

One of the kids, possibly called Pete, finally spoke up. "No, sir, it's not illegal. We were just wondering… well…" He trailed off, but the curly haired girl next to him elbowed him to continue. "We wanted to know what you were smiling at?" When Duke didn't answer, only frowning in confusion, he continued. "You know, on your computer just now?"

Ah. Duke hadn't realised his… emotional state was quite that visible on his face. He blushed, scrambling for a reason he could give them. This was, of course, rather difficult, since Duke himself wasn't entirely sure how he was feeling.

"I, uh, was reading an email." He replied awkwardly. "There was a joke, it was funny." He rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous habit of his when he wasn't sure what else to do with his hands.

One of the students — Steph, maybe? — raised an eyebrow at him. "A joke?" Duke nodded. "Who from?"

"It was, uh, Miss Holloway."

Now that got a reaction.

They erupted into chatter, and despite Duke's best attempts to calm them, they only stopped talking when the bell rang, and they all filled out of the door. "Don't forget about your homework!" He called halfheartedly after them.

"Mr Keane?" The curly haired girl stepped closer to his desk as everyone else left. She looked slightly worried, which concerned Duke.

"Hi there, Ruth, isn't it?" Duke asked. The girl nodded.

"Yeah, that's right. Are you alright?"

Ruth shifted from foot to foot before answering. "I, well… You were saying about Miss Holloway, so I figured you two were friends, and…" Duke motioned for her to continue. "Well, I had her this morning, just before lunch, and that new PE teacher — Mr Cross, I think — came in, and Miss Holloway looked kinda… I don't know. Uncomfortable? Anyways, I just wanted you to know, since you know her maybe you could help?" She trailed off nervously, but Duke gave her a reassuring smile.

"Thank you for telling me, Ruth. I'm sure she's fine, but I'll go and see her now, just to make sure" She nodded again, before hurrying off, presumably to catch her friends before they left.

Duke sighed, putting his head down on his desk. This was clearly going to be a bigger problem than he thought. Whilst he was in no way annoyed at Miss Holloway, there was a part of him that was entirely unsurprised that, less than a full day into his new job, he was already trying to help other people with their problems.

Obviously she didn't want to talk about it, so approaching her about it probably wasn't the best idea. But he couldn't just ignore it. Eventually, he decided the best idea was to just keep an eye on the situation. Perhaps it had been nothing more than a bit of a messy breakup, like she'd said. He didn't want to blow things out of proportion. But if it was something else… well, Duke knew just how much it paid to be cautious.

He just hoped she'd be okay.

Chapter Text

"Listen, Max, no matter how loudly you sing, that's still not a C." Miss Holloway called from her table in the middle of the hall to the stage, wishing for all the world she was anywhere else right now. Not that she didn't enjoy her job — far from it — but some of these kids were just… musically challenged. Beside her, she could see Duke stifling a laugh.

It had been two weeks since he had first arrived, but Duke had quickly become an integral member of the department. He immediately connected with the kids, and helped Miss Holloway set everything up for the showcase rehearsals. But more than that, he was kind, and funny, and caring in a way that Miss Holloway had been sorely missing. They would chat during break times, and trade funny emails during lessons — although apparently they needed to be more stealthy in how they went about that latter activity, since the head teacher had walked in during a lesson and noticed Duke sending a GIF of a dancing cat to her. Miss Holloway had thought the whole incident was hilarious. Duke was less convinced.

On the stage in front of them, the other kids giggled as Max called back "Sorry Miss!". Checking the large clock on the wall behind her, Miss Holloway realised that it was the end of rehearsal.

"Alright kids, that's enough for today! Make sure you practice your music. Oh, and Max?" He turned to look at her, already halfway to the door. She got up and moved to the piano by the wall, then hit the C key with rather more force than was required. "This is what we're aiming for, okay?" He nodded, then bolted out the door.

Duke chuckled. "He's very… enthusiastic, isn't he?" He said tactfully.

"Yup." Miss Holloway sighed, playing idly with the cuff of her denim jacket. "Lots of excitement, less…" She gestured vaguely in the air, "Anything else. But he is trying." She began to pack her things away before she realised she wouldn't be going home yet. In her office was a large stack of paperwork for the upcoming theatre trip — which Duke had decided would be to see a musical called Falsettos. Despite the fact that some of the kids were eighteen, and therefore legally responsible for themselves, many of them were still seventeen, and the school procedure mandated the teacher responsible fill out a mountain of paperwork before taking anyone off of the premises. Logically, she understood all the safeguarding issues, but it was still a pain.

"You heading out?" Duke asked, shrugging on his jacket.

"Unfortunately not." She sighed. "I've got forms to fill in and send out for the trip. And because our office printer literally exists to hate me, I have to stand there and feed in each piece of paper individually, so it doesn't complain and say it's out of paper."

Duke nodded in understanding. "Well, I could stay and give you a hand if you wanted?"

She waved her hand dismissively. "Thanks, but I'll be fine." Duke frowned.

"You sure? Because I really don't have anything better to be doing. Besides, I've filled out a lot of forms in my time, I'm fairly well practised."

Miss Holloway considered this for a second. She had assumed she had been asking out of the usual politeness, but he seemed genuinely willing to help. No, not just willing: eager. He was doing a good job of covering it, but Miss Holloway was very good at seeing behind masks, knowing exactly what it was that someone was thinking. It was a rather useful skill, especially as a teacher — she was known throughout the more troublesome students as the teacher who would always catch a lie.

"Well, if you really don't mind…"

Duke grinned. "Of course not! I'll help you out, and we'll be done in an hour."

They were not, in fact, done in an hour.

By the time they had actually got the printer to work (or rather, after Miss Holloway had kicked it and insulted it with some rather colourful language in an attempt to threaten it into functioning), it was already later than they'd both planned on staying.

"Why don't I order us some dinner? I assume you haven't eaten yet?" Duke asked, pulling out his phone and googling nearby pizza delivery places. He glanced at the stack of plain paper next to him, all of which needed to be put through the printer. As Miss Holloway had explained, each of the sixty children needed a two page form, and this printer didn't do double sided printing, so that meant he would be printing one hundred and twenty forms. Needless to say, he was assuming they'd be there for quite some time.

Miss Holloway looked up from the paperwork she had been slowly making her way through. "That's probably a good idea. I don't think I ate lunch, either."

Duke gave her a reproachful look, and she put her hands up in mock surrender. "I was busy!" She said, unconvincingly. He raised an eyebrow at her. "Fine. I forgot, okay?"

"You really should make more of an effort, you know. Lunch is important." Duke told her, trying to sound firm but not accusatory. Honestly, he was almost relived that this was her biggest problem. After that first day, he was concerned that Wilbur was going to be an issue, and cause friction within the staff, but he seemed to have kept to his department. Miss Holloway had seemed more relaxed as well.

She rolled her eyes. "Alright, Mr Keane." She teased. "You don't have to worry about me, though, I'm fine. I usually have a big breakfast or dinner."

I do worry about you, though.

It took all the strength he had to not say those words aloud. True though they may have been, they certainly weren't appropriate. Miss Holloway was clearly a confident, capable woman. She didn't need him coddling her. But it was in Duke's nature to worry about those…

Those he cared about.

Well, of course he cared about her, he reasoned. They were friends. It would be odd if he didn't. Right?

"Duke!"

It was only then that Duke realised that Miss Holloway was talking to him. "Sorry, Holly, what did you say?"

Miss Holloway stared at him for a few seconds. Perhaps it was wishful thinking, but Duke couldn't help but notice a light dusting of blush in her cheeks. "You zoned out for a minute." She said, though she sounded lost in thought. A moment passed, then: "You called me Holly"

Duke's eyes widened with realisation. "Oh, god, I'm so sorry!" He stammered out. The small office was suddenly uncomfortably cramped, and he felt his face warm. He didn't even realise he had done it, it was just a slip of the tongue. "I, uh, wasn't thinking, but—"

"Don't worry about it." Miss Holloway ducked her head, but Duke could still see the soft smile gracing her features. "I, uh, didn't mind it, actually."

Oh god that smile. Try as he might, the feeling of relief at not having offended his new coworker could not eclipse the warm, joyful sensation bubbling up in his chest at the sight of her face.

"Good. That's, uh, that's good." Duke replied, stumbling over his words. "Anyway, I should probably go order that pizza!" He said, quickly getting up and heading into the hallway.

As he stepped into the cool corridor, he heard Miss Holloway call out. "Ham and pineapple on mine, please!"

He gasped in mock horror. "You would desecrate your pizza in such a manner?!"

"Alright, drama boy." She laughed. "No need to get so defensive." He chuckled, dialling up the pizza place. He was surprised at how easily the tension had dissipated between them. That was something he had valued hugely in their friendship — the ability to talk comfortably, and tease each other, and not take themselves too seriously.

What the hell was she doing?

Miss Holloway didn't have awkward conversations. Miss Holloway didn't blush when someone called her a nickname. Miss Holloway didn't get butterflies in her stomach when talking to her friends.

Despite this, Miss Holloway had found herself doing all three of these things in the last five minutes.

What was happening? Duke was cute, that she knew, and incredibly easy to tease. But they were good friends, that was all. They had gotten to know each other well over the past few weeks, what with sharing a small office and running rehearsals. So why was she feeling…weird?

Maybe it was the nickname. After all, she had an odd history with her name, and being called "Holly" unexpectedly had startled her a little. Odder still, she hadn't minded. Yes, that was probably it. The conversation had become awkward when he called her that, and she wasn't sure how to deal with it. In any case, they were fine now.

Upon reflection, Miss Holloway wasn't really sure her thoughts were making any sense. God she was tired. Some sleep would definitely clear up a lot of the confusion, and she resolved to get this done as fast as possible, so they could both go home.

What the hell am I doing? What the actual hell do I think I'm doing?

Duke gripped the steering wheel tighter as he tried desperately to will his anxiety out of existence. Miss Holloway was in his car. His car. And the were going back to his house. God, he was screwed.

At the time, it had all made sense: Miss Holloway lived at least an hour from the school, and it was already gone midnight by the time they had finally sorted all of the forms. Duke thought that the paperwork as a social worker was a lot, but at least he was only ever doing it for a few kids at a time. But, since the musical they were seeing had themes that could, in the words of the head teacher "offend or go against the personal values held by a student or their family." (Which was thinly veiled homophobia, and Duke knew it), they had to write an informational letter to send home, on top of all of the forms. Unfortunately, they only found out about this as they were about to leave, and so had to spend another hour trying to compose something that explained the musical was centred around a gay couple, and students could chose whether or not they wanted to see that, without sounding hugely homophobic.

So, Duke had offered her a lift to his place, where she could sleep in the spare room, instead of driving the longer journey back to her own house, where she would likely only get a few hours of sleep anyways, before having to head back to school.

In hindsight, he could've worded his proposition a little better. "Would you like to come back to my place" wasn't really what you were supposed to say to your collogue that you've only known for two weeks, but fortunately Miss Holloway had just laughed when he stumbled through an apology, and understood his intended meaning.

All that to say, he now had his undeniably pretty and very attractive friend staying at his house. A friend who, it was becoming increasingly clear, that he liked. Quite a bit.

"Thanks again, for this." Miss Holloway said quietly. I could've gone home, but…"

Duke shook his head "Don't worry about it. Besides, you can actually get some sleep this way." He replied, pulling into his driveway.

As they entered his house, Duke picked up his cat to introduce her to Miss Holloway. "Say hi, Holly." He teased. The cat meowed loudly in response, but when she was put down, she went straight for Miss Holloway's legs, nuzzling herself into them. They both giggled, Duke remarking that she wasn't usually so friendly with strangers. After she had scampered away, they headed upstairs.

Despite the strange nature of the situation, there was surprisingly little awkwardness. Duke dug out an old pair of pyjamas for her to wear, and they both headed to bed. The image of Miss Holloway in his clothing was not one that would be leaving his mind anytime soon, nor would the soft murmur of goodnight he had heard as he closed his bedroom door. Even half asleep, she still managed to look ethereal, like some kind of magical being. Her hair was tied back in a messy bun — a far cry from her usual voluminous style — but a few strands had escaped, and framed her face rather nicely.

Eventually, Duke managed to escape the thoughts of the woman sleeping in the next room over — not that they were unwelcome, merely not conducive to relaxation — and drifted off to sleep.