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Entry tags:
T: Wet Pebbles
Fandom: Threshold
Pairing: Fenway/Caffrey
Warnings: None
Rating: G
Summary: Arranging a date. To read other parts of this story, find the timeline here.
"Caffrey!"
He called her, and almost hoped she wouldn't turn, but she did, pausing in the center of the corridor, holding a bundle of files in her arms and looking every inch the business woman, the politician, the woman. There was something perfect about the way she held her head -- and he quickly reminded himself that her perfect posture was because of her wonderful bone structure, slim and strong, and that element of professionalism made it easier.
"Want to come out tonight?"
"Come out? Where?"
She was hesitating already, slipping away, and he was reminded of wet pebbles at the seaside. The harder you held on, the easier they slipped from your wet hands. "I don't know. For a drink? Or maybe a meal?"
"Anywhere in mind?" she asked, walking down the corridor towards him as he relaxed a little more. The tenser you were, the more serious, the more Molly retreated and Caffrey, leader of Threshold, took over. He was careful to stay relaxed once he realised that.
"I was hoping you could think of somewhere."
She smiled a little, an easy smile, and shifted the folders in her arms. "Just give me a list of the places you've already been recently and I'll find a place that fits in with the protocols."
Of course, he thought, the protocols and that damn methodical attitude of hers. Those damned things that would define and limit any romance between them. But he'd been expecting it and he held out his list, trying not to feel too pleased when her fingers brushed his as she took it.
"Is this a date, Fenway?" she asked, a little teasing, and he snorted softly.
He raised an eyebrow, flavouring his words with sarcasm and his ex-wives, "What do you think?"
He sensed understanding in her smile as she drew away, though.
"It's a date, isn't it, Nigel?"
He couldn't understand why the mere use of his name made his mouth dry up. "Yeah. It's a date."
"I'll send you an email when I've figured out where we can go. See you there."
She left, her heels clicking all the way to the doors, and he listened, feeling hyper aware, and wondered what the hell he'd got himself into -- first Threshold, now another romance?
Pairing: Fenway/Caffrey
Warnings: None
Rating: G
Summary: Arranging a date. To read other parts of this story, find the timeline here.
"Caffrey!"
He called her, and almost hoped she wouldn't turn, but she did, pausing in the center of the corridor, holding a bundle of files in her arms and looking every inch the business woman, the politician, the woman. There was something perfect about the way she held her head -- and he quickly reminded himself that her perfect posture was because of her wonderful bone structure, slim and strong, and that element of professionalism made it easier.
"Want to come out tonight?"
"Come out? Where?"
She was hesitating already, slipping away, and he was reminded of wet pebbles at the seaside. The harder you held on, the easier they slipped from your wet hands. "I don't know. For a drink? Or maybe a meal?"
"Anywhere in mind?" she asked, walking down the corridor towards him as he relaxed a little more. The tenser you were, the more serious, the more Molly retreated and Caffrey, leader of Threshold, took over. He was careful to stay relaxed once he realised that.
"I was hoping you could think of somewhere."
She smiled a little, an easy smile, and shifted the folders in her arms. "Just give me a list of the places you've already been recently and I'll find a place that fits in with the protocols."
Of course, he thought, the protocols and that damn methodical attitude of hers. Those damned things that would define and limit any romance between them. But he'd been expecting it and he held out his list, trying not to feel too pleased when her fingers brushed his as she took it.
"Is this a date, Fenway?" she asked, a little teasing, and he snorted softly.
He raised an eyebrow, flavouring his words with sarcasm and his ex-wives, "What do you think?"
He sensed understanding in her smile as she drew away, though.
"It's a date, isn't it, Nigel?"
He couldn't understand why the mere use of his name made his mouth dry up. "Yeah. It's a date."
"I'll send you an email when I've figured out where we can go. See you there."
She left, her heels clicking all the way to the doors, and he listened, feeling hyper aware, and wondered what the hell he'd got himself into -- first Threshold, now another romance?
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I bet she didn't expect that one.
:D
I love this fic...
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no subject
Are you going to ever show the rest of the team's reactions, or is this a secret romance?
no subject