Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Maybe We Could Try (if you let me): A MaryTom Modern AU

"Understand" by Keshi 

Mary Bennet squinted at her screen. The blinking black line on her word processor had been mocking her for a good part of the past half hour. Her fingers hovered and flitted across her keyboard, landing on the "backspace" button more often than she preferred. She let out a small, frustrated sigh.

"Crystal Quartz"

Mary felt her eyebrows rise higher on her forehead. That did not sound right for a title of any document, much less a research paper.

Mary's supervisor at her university's Geology department thought that the paper she submitted last term deserved to be entered in a competition, after some further refinements. Given the bleak state of the modern job market, anything that could bulk up her resume would be nice, so Mary had acquiesced.

However, the summer heat wave was definitely not helping her brain process anything, and Mary found herself just sliiiiightly regretting her verbal commitment to this submission.

So that was the context behind why Mary found herself hunched over her laptop in the office of her uncle's crystal shop, Gardiner's Fine Jewellery at Gracechurch Street, where she had been working during the summer break, helping to identify and grade the precious stones they sold. Her uncle paid her a handsome enough fee for it, and Mary also found some secret relief to have an excuse to live away from her rambunctious family during the summer months.

"The Properties of Crystal Quartz," she attempted again. Hmm. Something still sounded off about it.

Mary crinkled her nose disapprovingly. The words stared back at her unfeelingly on the screen. With a sigh of defeat, she supposed that was a good enough placeholder for the moment.

Ding

The tinkling of the front door indicated to Mary that someone had just come into the shop. Mary turned her head from her desk to peer at who it was.

The person who entered was no other than Tom Hayward, junior barrister and Gardiner family friend. Although Tom Hayward's practice was primarily before the courts, Mr Gardiner had often sought his advice on insurance disputes and on the occasional legal issues that arose in the business of selling precious stones.

"Oh, Miss Bennet, good afternoon!" Tom greeted with his usual wide smile. Today, Tom was dressed very casually, donning an oversized t-shirt, shorts and trainers, panting slightly from the merciless heatwave. A canvas tote bag hung from his shoulder, and he adjusted his large, thin-rimmed glasses as his sweat threatened to make them slip down his nose.

Although Tom Hayward often projected charisma and confidence, he appeared somewhat unsure of himself that day. He seemingly did not know where to place his hands and fidgeted with the strap of his tote bag. Mary thought that was somewhat uncharacteristic of him, but attributed it to the summer heat that seemed to put everyone in a bit of a daze.

Mary mentally noted that she had not seen Tom Hayward with his glasses on lately, or in fact, anything remotely casual. Tom's dress sense was often much sharper, with his contact lenses, starch white ironed shirt, dark brown work trousers and dress shoes, as if he was ever ready to whisk himself to the courts at a moment's notice.

"Mr Hayward, good afternoon," Mary replied with a small smile. "It's another hot day out, isn't it?"

Tom tugged at the top of his shirt in an attempt to fan himself. "You can say that again, one of the worst heatwaves the city's ever been through." He sighed. "At the rate the environment's going, I doubt things would get better anytime soon."

Then, after a brief pause, he looked at Mary with an almost sheepishly. "You can call me Tom, you know. I'd like to think we're familiar enough with each other. And it's not like I'm at work-work."

"Well," Mary replied, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "You're here at my place of work-work." She could not help but grin at his candid banter. It was not difficult to ever feel at ease with Tom Hayward.

"And if you must insist, Tom. The same goes for calling me just Mary."

"Alright, Just Mary," Tom replied with a laugh.

There was always something infectious about the way Tom smiled; Mary had always liked that he smiled with his eyes as much as his mouth.

Tom was known to the family as a distant nephew of Mrs Gardiner and was something of an acquaintance to Mary during her infrequent childhood visits to the Gardiner home in London. Mary had some vague, indistinct memories of a teenage Tom Hayward chatting with her aunt and uncle in their living room on Sunday afternoons, or helping to brew a pot of tea as Mrs Gardiner took a loaf of banana bread out of the oven … Mary often found herself observing these scenes just from the sidelines, if she was not called to attend to her mother's or younger sisters' whims and fancies at the time.

Back then, Mary did not know enough or have any common topics of conversation with Tom. And the younger Tom Hayward really had the energy of a whirlwind, often out of the Gardiner home as quickly as he entered.

The older Tom Hayward of the present day still had vestiges of that whirlwind in him, but it was certainly better restrained behind his sharp wit and professionalism. It was only in the company of close friends and family that he appeared to let go of the reins, even by just a bit.

Even when he was just a law student at the university, Tom took any opportunity to apply his knowledge of the law to aid the communities he found himself affiliated with, including Mr Gardiner's jewelry business.

While Tom would acknowledge that most of it consisted of boring paperwork, Mr Gardiner had a very different, more riveting appreciation of his support.

Mr Gardiner had been particularly grateful when Tom had managed to dissuade an irate customer who had almost sued the store. The said customer had bought bushel-loads of crystals that supposedly promised wealth and abundance, and was expectedly disappointed when his bets on that weekend's horse race had not yielded the windfall he desired. With his quick wit and disarming smile, the young Mr Hayward had managed to gracefully send the man out of the store, forgetting why he was there in the first place.

Such was Tom Hayward's professional prowess.

"Is Mr Gardiner here, by any chance, Mary?" Tom asked, wiping sweat off his brow.

"No, I don't think he's due to come in until later in the afternoon. Did you have any business planned with him?"

"Ah … he told me to come and get some papers to look at about the latest shipment of amethysts from Brazil. They could only be reviewed and notarized on hard copy, so sending it by email wouldn't do."

Mary nodded.

"His Whatsapp message made it seem like there was some urgency, so I dropped by as soon as I could. I had otherwise been running some errands in town for the day."

"I see," Mary replied. "Let me ask him about that real quick. These days, he usually only pops by before closing time to check on things before locking up."

As Mary dug through her bag for her phone, Tom walked over and peered at the open document on her computer.

"The Properties of Crystal Quartz," he mused, almost to himself. "Are you writing a GCSE study guide?"

Mary felt heat rush to her face, and her blush betrayed her embarrassment. Tom almost immediately backtracked, "Sorry, I didn't mean to pry."

"No, no, sorry," Mary blanched. "It's not that. It's supposed to be a research paper that my professor asked me to submit for a competition. As you see, I'm a bit stuck on the title. I've been looking at it all afternoon, but my efforts have clearly been futile."

"Oh," Tom nodded knowingly, patting the back of Mary's chair. "We've all been there, nothing to be ashamed about," he reassured her with a wave of the hand.

"You should see the titles of my documents," Tom continued. "Right before a deadline, half of them are just the day's date followed by 'FINAL', 'FINAL_v2', 'FINAL_v3_THISONE. And to nobody's surprise, the next day will very likely have the document metamorphose into 'FINAL_v4_ACTUAL'. And I'd be lucky if that's really the final one."

Mary tried to suppress a giggle. "The great Tom Hayward, barrister, naming his files just like any one of us common folk? I find that hard to believe."

"I didn't know class distinctions applied to file naming conventions, Miss Bennet! I learned something new today."

"Oh, Tom! That's too much," Mary managed between laughs.

"Anyway, I may not know much about stones other than from your uncle, but maybe I could try to help?" Tom offered while grabbing a nearby chair and scooting over to Mary's desk. "Would you like to tell me what the paper's about?"

"Ah," Mary hesitated for a moment. A sudden memory of her mother and Lydia flashed before her mind's eye, as she recalled her family members mocking her for studying something as "drab" and "boring" as rocks in university.

Rocks? Lydia had once laughed. Are you paying thousands of pounds in university fees to study rocks? Baby James studies rocks in our backyard, all for free!

Her mother's reaction was no kinder.

Would it really be so difficult to give your mother some peace of mind that you'll survive before I'm gone from this world? Mrs Bennet had often bemoaned, with a hand to her forehead for dramatic effect.

Mary looked back at Tom. There was no trace of mockery in his expression, only quiet curiosity.

Perhaps her family's opinion was not the only one that mattered.

"Well, to put it simply," Mary began, focusing on a particular grain of wood on her desk rather than Tom, feeling too shy to make eye contact with him. "The paper has something to do with the imperfections in precious stones, more specifically, crystal quartz."

As Tom listened intently, Mary continued. "Although most commercial buyers prefer their stones to be clear for their aesthetic qualities, the truth is, the imperfections in these stones are what make them interesting. They could be mineral deposits, inclusions, or fractures that tell us a lot about the history of the crystal's formation. So the paper goes into the details of that, specifically for crystal quartz."

As she looked up at Tom, she saw his expression slightly agape.

"I'm so sorry, I rambled, didn't I?"

"No, no, not at all, Mary," Tom replied immediately. "Mary, that was really very interesting."

"I was just thinking that the imperfections Mrs Smith complained about in the tiger's eye crystals last week," Tom explained. "Those imperfections actually made them more valuable than she thought."

"If we look at 'value' from a historical and geological perspective, yes."

"I think I understand why the title's giving you trouble," Tom murmured to himself, as he looked at the screen deep in thought. "Forgive me for saying this, but the current title isn't really doing your work justice." After a beat, he added, "Sorry, I didn't mean for that to sound harsh."

"No, no, that's exactly what I've been thinking all afternoon!"

"Maybe," Tom mustered, deep in thought as he scooted over. "May I?" he asked, gesturing at her document.

"Please, anything would help at the moment," Mary replied, exasperated.

Tom started typing on Mary's laptop, speaking his thoughts aloud. "Hmm, perhaps, you could start by putting the word 'imperfections' in the title." Nothing was heard for a moment but the clicking of keys. "That sounded like the main idea of what you said earlier…"

Tom's upper arm brushed against Mary's slightly as he typed, and only then did Mary notice how much higher his shoulder sat than hers, despite both of them being seated—how much taller and larger his frame was.

That observation in and of itself did not surprise her, but her reaction to it did.

Mary could not explain to herself why her heart skipped unexpectedly, nor why warmth crept slowly up her chest and into her neck—and this time, it was not due to the summer heat.

Mary gulped and tried to keep her reaction to herself.

With a flourish, Tom finished typing and looked at the screen, seemingly satisfied with his work.

"The Imperfections of Crystal Quartz Inclusions", the title now read.

"Hmm, is this better?" Tom wondered aloud. "Although I don't think it's quite there yet."

"No," Mary replied warmly, patting Tom's arm lightly in a show of gratitude. "But I think it's a huge leap in the right direction. Thank you. I'll workshop this a bit more."

Tom froze for a moment at the contact. His hand drifted absently to the part of his arm Mary had touched before he realised what he was doing.

Clearing his throat, he broke into a practiced, wide grin. "Of course, Miss Bennet. I'm glad to be of service, however small it may be."

He accompanied the remark with an exaggerated little flourish of his hand, as though making a courtly bow.

"We just agreed that you should just call me Mary!"

"Oh yes, yes, how could I forget?"

They laughed together until their cheeks turned faintly pink.

It felt noticeably warmer in the shop than it was moments earlier. Tom glanced at the shop window, where the merciless afternoon sun blazed against the pavement outside.

"It's really unbearably hot in here, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Mary sighed. "The fans really only push the warm air around."

Tom nodded thoughtfully. "When I was on the way here, I noticed there's a nice coffee shop just across the road."

He paused for just a beat, trying to sound far more casual than he felt. "Would you like some iced coff—"

Ding

The shop entrance rang once more, announcing the entrance of one William Ryder. Dressed to the nines, Mr Ryder brought with him a cardboard carrier with two large caramel frappuccinos sweating in the afternoon heat.

"Miss Mary! Good afternoon!" Taking off his sunglasses, Mr Ryder greeted her while striding into the shop, all sunshine and roses. "And Tom Hayward, it's been a while!"

"William Ryder," Tom greeted with his perfect barrister smile.

"Miss Mary, the weather's been so unbearably warm, I thought an iced coffee would be just the thing to beat the heat!"

Taken aback by Mr Ryder's sudden arrival, Mary could only muster a surprised "Oh," as the tall plastic cup was placed into her hands. She did not notice how still Tom suddenly became beside her.

"And I got it in salted caramel! I'm almost certain it must be your favourite."

Mary had always found caramel too sweet for her taste, but in the flurry of the moment, she was too stunned to correct Mr Ryder and simply thanked him for his generosity.

"And is that Tom Hayward?" Ryder added, giving Tom a few loud pats on the shoulder. "I didn't know you would be here! I would have ordered another coffee for you, too. Would you like this one?" He gestured towards the coffee he presumably got for himself.

"Not at all, I'm waiting for Mr Gardiner with regard to some work, and Miss Bennet was kind enough to help me pass the time," Tom explained simply. "How about you? What brings you here today?"

"My godmother Catherine de Bourgh owns a few of the commercial buildings in Cheapside," Ryder replied with a shrug. "I come to check in on the tenants sometimes."

Turning towards Mary, Ryder enthused. "So! How have you been, Mary?"

"Doing as well as I could, Mr Ryder, thank you," Mary replied, sipping on the frappuccino tentatively. It was most certainly too sweet.

Looking at the couple in front of him, Tom Hayward found himself wondering how familiar they were with each other, and if he was in fact being a third wheel.

"That's good to hear!" Ryder replied cheerily. "Listen, a few of us are planning a trip to Italy, and since it's the summer break, we were wondering if—"

Another ding resounded through the shop, this time indicating Mr Gardiner's arrival.

"Tom! Thanks for coming by on such short notice," Mr Gardiner said as he strode in, bustling with a huff. "Would you come with me as I get those papers from my office?"

"Of course sir, in a moment!" Tom replied. "Miss Bennet, Ryder," he nodded at his companions before following Mr Gardiner into his office.

Mary looked at Tom's departing figure while politely half-listening to Mr Ryder. It puzzled her that, despite Mr Ryder's lively conversation, the shop somehow felt emptier than it did just moments before.

Mr Gardiner strode into his office, which was really only an extra room at the side of the main shop space. He quickly turned on the lights, dropped his belongings onto the table, and gestured for Tom to sit.

"Thanks again, Tom, for agreeing to help with this. I know the suppliers are reliable, but it doesn't hurt for someone else with an eye for these things to review the papers."

"No problem at all, Mr Gardiner," Tom replied. "Doing these things gives me some experience in this area as well. So it's really a win-win."

"That's the spirit, Tom! Ever the optimist. You'll go far in your career with that mindset," Mr Gardiner said encouragingly as he ruffled through his drawers looking for the said papers.

"Although, you know, I could have just emailed them to you in pdf."

Tom blinked.

"We're always happy to see you, Tom. But doing this online would've saved you the trip, especially in this infernal heat."

"It wasn't any trouble at all, Mr Gardiner," Tom replied coolly. "I'm always happy to drop by."

Mr Gardiner looked at Tom, and then at his niece, who was listening with a polite smile at the exuberant blonde gentleman animatedly recounting something with sweeping gestures.

"Right, of course."

Saying nothing more, Mr Gardiner simply went back to shuffling through his drawers.

"Now, where are those papers?"