Work Text:
Despite his best efforts, Hardy could not create a reasonable excuse to skip the annual police gala.
It hadn’t helped that Miller had been so damn insistent that he attend.
“Come on, it’d be good for you! And look, it’ll be other officers and detectives. You could still talk work; know that that’s easier for you.”
He couldn’t exactly deny any of that but, for Christ’s sake, surely his own work partner would know he much he despised mass social gatherings?
And yet, there he found himself, holding a glass of wine and standing in a room crowded with colleagues and law enforcement officials.
He took slow, short sips as he tried to vanish into the wall, watched his fellow officers conversing happily and casually with one another.
At the back of the room, the hired DJ was spinning various songs he’d been told were popular, but he didn’t recognise even one.
All in all, this was going exactly as he expected.
Ellie, in the beginning, had hovered with him and made casual conversation (well, the best she could manage given his general disdain for small talk).
She left some time ago to mingle with the other officers.
She always was the better of them when it came to socialising.
He wouldn’t hold it against her; she enjoyed these sorts of events more than he did, and he wouldn’t want to ruin her night by forcing her to remain with him.
But it did leave him very alone in a room with people he was supposed to know and feel camaraderie with, with nothing but a glass of wine for company.
He continued his efforts to disappear, to no avail.
The beat of the music thumped in his ears, and he could already feel the starts of a migraine.
He glanced at his watch; he promised her he’d remain for at least an hour.
It’d been fifteen minutes.
He groaned and took a more generous gulp.
This was going to be a long night.
“You know, Sir, point of these things is to socialise.”
He turned and there she was again, dressed in a sparkly purple midi-dress and her hair up in a bun.
She held a fruity cocktail of some sort; all he knew was it was likely some sugar-infused nightmare that made his stomach roll at the thought.
“That means talking to people, you know.”
“I’ve talked to people.” Hardy defended. “Spoke to Dirty Brian earlier.”
“That half grunt you gave was speaking?” Ellie gave him a look. “Didn’t realise you’re a caveman.”
“Oi.”
“Come with me. I’ll get you started.” She grabbed his hand and started dragging him into the masses of people.
“Wha – Miller, no. I’m not – “His protests were all in vain.
She snaked them through the congregated crowds, slipping between conversations and past suit jackets and dresses.
Hardy was not so graceful and felt every time he bumped into another person, the textures of their coats and gowns rubbing uncomfortably against his cheek and hands as he muttered quick apologies.
No matter how careful he was, it was seemingly inevitable that he’d either be blocked or stumble into another person, and the trail of eyes he could feel boring into the back of his head burned in his mind.
He shrunk as small as he could to avoid jostling his fellow officers to little success.
The centre of the gala was a labyrinth built of human bodies and, despite his care, it appeared his fate to bump into every single one of the walls until, finally, Ellie came to a stop.
“Everyone, this is DI Alec Hardy. The one I was mentioning earlier.”
Attention pulled from the wake of stares and scrutinizing gazes, Hardy was suddenly faced with four other individuals who, if he only assumed others were staring, these four were definitely looking at him.
There were two men and two women, each dressed sharply with outfits pristine and tailored perfectly to their bodies, hair nicely kept, and, for the women, makeup done expertly.
Hardy was not self-conscious about his appearance but, he’d admit, he felt inadequate in comparison.
The first man flashed a friendly smile and extended a hand.
“DI Fred Knight. Good to meet you.”
Hardy’s response was delayed as he processed the hand in front of him.
He eventually took it, and his hand was almost crushed by DI Knight’s powerful handshake.
“G-Good to meet you too.” He managed.
“Ellie has talked a lot about you.” Said the woman as she swirled her cosmopolitan.
Hardy furrowed his brow.
“Really? Why?”
The four chuckled and Ellie smiled as well.
Should he be laughing too?
He wasn’t trying to be funny.
He was honestly confused why Miller would mention him at all, let alone, apparently, a lot.
“She was just saying how dedicated you are to the job.” Said the woman with a look that made Hardy’s cheeks red. “Quite a hard worker.”
“Yeah. Workaholic or schmoozing?” teased another man.
“N-No, just…work needs to get done so I do it.” Hardy stuttered, flummoxed.
“Relax Hardy, he’s just teasing.” Ellie assured him.
Right, just teasing.
That’s a normal thing in conversations.
…Christ, he knew he wasn’t much of a socialiser, but this was particularly embarrassing.
He’d managed before, hadn’t he?
“It’s good to be so dedicated. With how things are going, we need more dedicated cops.” DI Knight added.
“We’ve been dealing with a spree of break-ins.” Work talk; Hardy could do work talk. “Eight in the last two months.”
“Teens, maybe? Bit bored with summer holiday?”
“Possibly. We have a suspect list that – “
“God, no work talk! We’re supposed to be having fun!” groaned the other woman as she draped herself on the other man.
“DI Cook is right, Fred! Leave shop talk back at the station.”
DI Knight laughed and looked a little pink.
“Right, sorry! You know me, can talk work all day. Forget to relax sometimes.”
The others laughed.
Hardy deflated.
Things were going well for the first time that night.
What was wrong with work talk?
Ellie said work talk was an option.
Why couldn’t it remain one?
Now he had nothing on his side and, much to his discomfort, the conversation seemed to have no end in sight.
The music was amping in volume, a fast-tempo dance song that pounded his ear drums as the masses around them started to sway and move.
Strobe lights and other effects filled the hall with colour as the crowds cheered.
The dancing converged towards them, the space growing smaller.
Hardy could feel the temperature pitch upward; Christ, who turned up the heater?
Had someone turned up the heater?
Thump – Thump – “– outside work – “– Dance Dance – Thump – Scree – “do, Hardy?”
“W-what?” Hardy shouted above the din as a strobe flashed in his eyes.
The four laughed.
Ellie laughed.
Their teeth flashed bright white in the dimmed room.
Too white.
He could feel their laughter crawl across his skin.
The dancers drew closer.
The four were speaking but Hardy only caught every other word.
Or more, he knew and partly understood the full sentence, but the damn lights and damn music and damn other people dancing and pressing behind him somehow created a loss in translation and only pieces made it to final comprehension.
This was going south.
He needed to leave.
He glanced behind him as Ellie and the four kept talking and dancing but saw only bodies.
Bodies pressed so tightly together, they formed a human wall, a prison to keep him in the middle of the dance floor as the music grew louder and louder.
The drumbeat pounded in his senses, overwhelmed any other sound, any other sensation, any other thought he could have had, and the people were way too close around him and why oh why did he wear a new shirt it’s still itchy.
Sweat beaded on his brow as the lights swirled around him and formed a whirlpool of sensory inputs that his mind simply couldn’t manage all at once.
It was too much; one needed to go.
As his breathing grew shallow and rapid, he tried to stamp out the music as he clamped his hands over his ears.
It was a short-lived reprieve.
As if the music was insulted by his attempt to block it out, it seemed to only grow louder.
No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no –
THUMP, THUMP, THUMP, DANCE, DANCE, THUMP, THUMP, HANDS IN THE AIR, THUMP, SCREE, THUMP, Hardy, THUMP, THUMP, THUMP, SHAKE IT, THUMP, are you - , THUMP, THUMP, EVERYBODY GO, SCREE, THUMP, HARDY!
Then there was a hand on his shoulder, and it burned.
He leapt back and bumped into more of the dancers and their eyes were on him and it burned too.
“S-S – “He tried but his words fumbled on numb lips.
The hand was back but more gentle, more cautious.
He barely processed as the walls surrounded him like a human tunnel, his body bumped against scratchy jackets and prickly sequin dresses that were just a little too much right now, please and thank you.
In what felt like a blink of an eye, the crowds were gone, the noise and too much were gone.
He belatedly noticed he was sitting, and he was outside.
He belatedly noticed there was someone in front of him, saying words to him he couldn’t quite process until he eventually could.
“…breathe…just breathe…”
Did he remember how to do that?
How could he have time to do that?
There was too much demanding his attention, he could still hear the cacophony and feel the stares burning across his body.
“…with me…1, 2, 3, 4…hold…”
Just to four?
…he thought.
Maybe he could manage that.
The voice made it sound reasonable.
With effort, he forced his lungs to fill with air for the given count and held it for the same.
“…exhale now…”
He did so.
He repeated until, eventually, the fog receded, and he could put a face to the soothing voice that brushed the everything from his mind and senses.
It was Miller.
Of course, it was Miller.
…
He didn’t like how concerned she looked.
She was supposed to be having fun, and where were her friends?
“M-Miller?” He finally managed to say.
“You back with me?” She asked.
He licked his dry lips and, slowly, nodded.
“Yeah.”
“Christ, thank goodness.” She sighed as she plopped down in front of him. “Knew you didn’t like social things but didn’t know it was that bad for you.”
He felt a pang of guilt.
“Not usually…doesn’t usually get this bad.” He admitted.
“Has this happened before?”
He slowly, reluctantly nodded.
“Why I normally just don’t go to these things.”
His gaze lowered.
He idly plucked at the grass.
“Sorry.”
Ellie frowned.
“What for?”
“Took you away from the others. You were having a good time.”
“Hell with that. Not abandoning you when you’re not well.”
“Should be fine though. Know it’s stupid.” He grumbled. “Just feel like everyone’s starin’ and…and looked like a bloody moron in front of them. As always, can’t make a decent impression can you – “
“You did not look like a moron.” Ellie cut him off. “They liked you!”
Hardy shot her a look.
“Don’t need to lie to make me feel better.”
“Christ, Hardy, m’not lying. What made you think they didn’t?”
Hardy paused.
He thought.
He thought long.
“Could just…feel it.” He eventually answered.
He felt ridiculous as he said it.
There was no concrete evidence.
Just feelings.
And he’d had a meltdown over it.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, stupid, stupid, stupid -
“Think that’s anxiety speaking, Hardy.” Ellie’s voice was gentle as it stopped the destructive train of thought. “They really do like you. Actually, they were worrying just as much when I noticed you weren’t doing well. Told them I’d let them know once I made sure you were okay.”
Hardy blinked.
“Oh.”
Somehow that fact didn’t make him feel better.
“Hey,” Ellie craned to look Hardy in the eyes. “it’s really alright. I get it, these things aren’t for everyone. Specially bad if you feel anxious about them.”
“I shouldn’t though – “
“No, no, there’s no shouldn’t’s about this. It’s okay.”
She pursed her lips.
“Look, I know you’re feeling bad about taking my time or some shite, so here’s what we’ll do. If you’re feeling up to it, the others and I can come out here once the slow songs start playing. None of us fancy a slow dance and I bet they’d appreciate the fresh air. But only if you feel up to it, okay?”
Hardy looked doubtful.
“And if I don’t?”
“Then we get some fresh air and let you be.”
“But – “
“But nothing.” Ellie was firm but kind. “It’s okay, Hardy. You get to have fun here too, whatever that means. You’re under no obligation to socialise more.”
“I fulfilled my quota then?” He weakly smirked.
Ellie gave him a look and smiled.
“Yes. You’re off the hook for socialising. But don’t be rude!”
“Wasn’t being rude – “
“To Dirty Brian, you were! No more of that!”
“Fine, Miller.” Hardy grumbled, but the look on his face expressed only gratitude.
Ellie smiled and, after standing and dusting off her dress, she headed back for the dance floor.
Leaving Hardy to relax in the comparative quiet, the music and conversation muffled and manageable, the soft grass beneath his hands the only texture to process.
He uttered a relieved sigh and simply let his mind grow quiet.
Miller was right; in the end, he did have an enjoyable time, and even managed a less stressful conversation with the four outside the dance floor.
The night ended with the six on the lawn, sipping cocktails and having pleasant conversation, with Hardy all too content to listen and occasionally add a comment as the night ended.