I remade

@KarenGillan2: A job well done Mr Smith.

“…she’s very beautiful; mad as a box of cats. in a brilliant way.”

Matt and Karen hanging out

 #Karen stawp your obvious is showing

business au // matt and kaz :

The first time Matt sees her is on his first day. He is an intern to somebody, working for somebody who is working for Karen. Wearing a men’s grey suit and tie - not a skirt suit that most women at the office wore (oh no) - she is handed a pile of stock charts, along with some important looking document. The red of her hair laps the pages as she reads them; he almost drips the cups of tea that he is carrying as he stands there, utterly intoxicated by her.

Before he turns to leave, she talks about something to do with exchange and interest, and he hears that her voice is deliciously Scottish.  

The next time he sees her (properly, this is, not stolen glances through the beckoning glass walls of the office, or theories as to what lies behind the mahogany doors of her office) she is carrying a huge pile of papers. Selfishly, Matt hopes that she might drop them, and he might pick them up. After all, that would surely be a perfect way to start a love story. However, as she brushes past, the tweed of his blazer catches on her buttons, and the contents of his briefcase goes flying. Their hands touch briefly as she assists him in picking them up. Fingers fumble whilst Matt awkwardly thanks her. Later he notes that she smells of parchment and cigar smoke. 

The third time Matt sees her isn’t actually the third. See, following the briefcase incident, he had forced a typewriter-written thankyou note into her bulging pigeon hole (despite warnings from co-workers that it would never be answered). Surprisingly, later that afternoon, Matt discovered that his pigeon hole had it’s first visitor. The envelope had a wax seal, and the paper smelt of her. 

For about 4 weeks, they communicate via pigeon holes. One day however, there is nothing in Matt’s box. Dismayed, he waits obediently for the rest of the day. By dusk, he angrily storms to the cabinet, ready to tear up every memo in her slot until he feels a little bit less empty (empty like his pigeon hole).

But there she is, waiting for him. And she is wearing a very unprofessional  dress ((Matt has never seen her out of a suit)) that is floaty and milk coloured, similar to her skin, with a strange, marled cardigan over the top. 

She asks him if he wants to see some real pigeons. In London. Maybe Kensington. She knows this one place- 

His tongue stops her.

A hint of expensive whisky traces his mouth, warm, like her hands in his hair. 

Those Times When Karen Gillan Was The More Idiotic One [3/?]