There's more she's not saying. He can sense it, even if he can't put his finger on just what exactly. But he knows people, knows her, and he's always been good at reading between the lines. Had to be. No one ever says what they mean.
It intrigues him enough that he pushes away from the front of the truck, moving back towards her, coming until he stood directly before her, staring down at her slim, stubborn figure. He was close enough that he could feel the heat of her, although he was careful not to touch, despite invading her personal space.
She has to look almost directly up to meet his eyes, to show him how serious she is-- that none of this has been lip service, how important she feels it is that he stays. He dwarfs her easily, but it doesn't make her any less sure. Nick Hawley was a lot of things, and maybe some people might have seen him as intimidating in certain lights-- but she never had, and she wasn't about to start now.
"This team is a family," she says firmly, unknowingly echoing what Jenny had told him in so many words back in the archives. "Whether you like it or not, you're a part of it. This isn't a battle you can just walk out on. You may not think so, but we need you-- and I'm pretty damn sure you need us."
It's not enough and that knowledge is still written plain as day on his face.
"You do." That much he can confess, and there's regret thick in his voice because of it. It's true and he knows it. "Don't you get it, Mills? That's why I have to go."
Maybe he doesn't think so, maybe he feels like it's the only thing he can do if he wants to protect people, either from himself or anyone else from his past, but this, this is something she knows a lot about. She was never as openly angry about things as Jenny had been, always found different ways to channel her rage, different ways to act out, learned to keep it quiet as she got older-- but it was still there. It probably always would be, no matter how much time had passed.
"If you care about someone, you don't leave. That's not doing anyone any favors. You don't leave your family, Hawley." Her father had left. Her mother had been taken from them. Nothing good ever came from people leaving. "Don't matter how much better you think it'll be. The only person who will feel better is you-- maybe not even that. What about the people you leave behind?"
"The people I leave behind this time are still alive to feel, Mills," he argues back, his words clipped, angry, and there's a defensiveness in him now, because there are old wounds buried here, layered beneath the surface like a minefield and all of them brought far too close to the surface over the past few days. It's Mills now, not Abbie - a distance he needs as he struggles to get his shields back up, safely in place. At least long enough to get him out of here.
"Which is a novel experience, let me tell you what. I'm tired of sticking around and watching the people I care about die. Or turn into monsters themselves. Staying's never done me a lick of good. The thought of staying until they leave me? That makes me feel a whole hell of a lot better about cutting my losses now before I have to see it go down again."
To some degree, she gets it. In this one thing, they're not so different, both of them hating the idea of being left behind, but with their own ways of coping, their own ways of managing it. Abbie has combated that same fear by building stronger foundations, but Hawley's instinct is to run, run so far and so fast that he doesn't risk anything at all.
She gets it, but it's not enough.
"That's not how this is gonna go down." A stubborn refusal, as if this were actually her choice to make. She knows its not, but words are failing her, reason and inspiration falling short when they normally served her so well. His insistence isn't the only thing that's not enough; this need to run is so deeply ingrained in him that there's nothing she can say that will change his mind-- but there might be something else.
That firm mask of hers begins to slip, just a little, just long enough for a glimpse of something more vulnerable to peek through, something oddly and yet undeniably uncertain. Abbie Mills was a woman with a reputation for being self-possessed, certain and stalwart in all things, and yet for half a moment, she falters.
"If you leave," she begins evenly, her voice quieter than before, "I'm never going to see you again." It feels true, like he'll vanish into thin air the minute she lets him get to his truck and pull out of this lot. She's not the only one his disappearance would hurt-- but it was going to hurt a hell of a lot more than she would have thought. It was starting to sink in just how much.
It happens quickly, fluidly. That single step between them is gone in an instant, her hand bracing against the back of his neck as she grabs the front of his shirt to tug him downwards without warning, meeting him halfway to press her lips against his, hard and thinly veiling anger and a thousand other things, things she'd refused to comment on or even acknowledge over the past several months.
The words he didn't think she'd say. The ones he'd been counting on her not to say, actually. Because as long as it was about the team, the unit, he could still walk away. Maybe even without looking back. They were strong as a team, a family. He'd seen that from the outside, having watched them in action for weeks now. He helped, sure, but they'd been functioning just fine even before he'd shown up. Yes, they'd made a place for him, but it was one he could step out of as easily as he'd stepped in and not leave too gaping a hole in his absence.
This, though. This wasn't about the unit, the group. The family. She'd made it personal. She'd flashed him a look and in one second he'd seen the vulnerability underneath, the one he'd all but convinced himself wasn't there, and if it was, it wasn't for him.
When it was the team, he could walk away. When it was Abbie?
Christ, he wasn't sure anyone would have the strength for that.
Before he can open his mouth to say anything - what, he has no idea, all the words have died on his tongue, because what does he say to that? Deny her words? He can't. She might be right, as much as that very idea makes him ache in ways he's been trying not to think about. Things have been set down pretty clear, or so he thought.
When she steps forward and closes the space between them and drags him down for an unexpected kiss, everything he thought he'd known about where they were goes right out the window.
For a moment, he's too surprised to react, but that doesn't last long, not when he's wanted this for... he's wanted it for a while. Maybe since he first laid eyes on her. But it wasn't gonna happen, he'd finally admitted that to himself. Now, though. It was. It was happening, and for a moment the yearning washed over him so hard it left him breathless. All he could do was wrap his arms about her waist and drag her close, a soft sound murmured against her lips as he bent to meet her, knowing she was already up on tiptoes to reach this far. She was such a tiny thing, but there was so much life in her, so much energy. He'd been drawn to her from the start, like a moth to the flame. Even now he was helpless to resist, couldn't even find it in himself to want to.
All he wanted to do was to freeze time right in this moment and stay right here with her pressed against him, kissing her. His lips parted against hers, tasting her, memorizing the feel of her lips against his. one hand lifted to cradle against the side of her face, her skin warm and soft under the calloused tips of his fingers.
It's never been as simple as her not feeling anything. Any ignorance of Hawley's efforts had been careful, deliberate; she'd lost count of the number of times she'd deflected him, how many times she'd declined his offer for a drink or pretended not to notice the way he insisted on looking at her. It was complicated-- summing it up with a single word felt like it was doing the both of them disservice, but simply put, it was exactly that.
It was about so much more than whether or not she thought she could trust him enough to open up. It was about keeping her focus on the mission, refusing to allow herself to be distracted. She'd always put her work before everything else, and her calling as a Witness? No different. It was about not letting herself give in to a distraction that could hurt the sister she'd waited far too many years to reconcile with. It was about not allowing herself to feel more for anyone than warm camaraderie, respect, because to admit she felt something for Hawley meant admitting that there were also very complicated feelings concerning her partner, something she was nowhere near ready to be honest with herself about.
There were a hundred different reasons to keep pretending and to keep things simple, but the threat of him walking away and never turning back? It was enough to make her forget them, for now. It was enough to let her focus on what she did feel, just for a few moments, and in those moments she doesn't think of him as a complication or a criminal or anything at all other than who he actually is-- a trusted friend, someone she's come to rely on, someone who's saved her on more than one occasion and shown himself to have a hell of a lot more depth than she'd ever thought she'd give him credit for.
Her fingers tangle themselves in that long, unkempt hair of his, her grip on his shirt unrelenting as she opens her mouth beneath his, feeling herself relax in spite of her anger as one of his hands comes to rest at the small of her back, kissing him until there's no breath left in her, furious and desperate all at once. He's warm, as warm as she'd occasionally allowed herself to imagine he might be, arms strong and steady and the scent of him hitting her like a punch now that she's finally allowed herself to give up on distance-- for however long it lasts.
She presses her lips together when the kiss breaks for air, another flash of that uncertainty touching her eyes before it vanishes once more and she regains herself, her expression carefully blank, unreadable.
His hand stays anchored at the small of her back, fingers splayed, able to feel the warmth of her through the thin shirt she wore, her jacket brushing over the back of his knuckles where his hand had slipped beneath it. His other hand stayed cradled against her cheek, even when she pulled back from the kiss and searches her face.
He waits, his eyes n her in return and there's something dark and deep there that hadn't been before. Something he hadn't allowed himself, because she'd never allowed it. Every deflect, every decline, every enforcement of lack of interest - he'd persisted in site of them, for a while, but he could only go so far on his own two feet. To get anywhere, she had to meet him in the middle.
Now he had to make sure that's where she was before he turned around to meet her again, when he'd been all set to walk away for good.
"Who's asking?" he murmurs softly, his thumb brushing against her cheekbone, her skin so amazingly soft beneath his touch. "You, or the team?"
A ghost of a smile flickers across her lips, faint but undeniably real, and her gaze drops away for half a moment before she looks up again, one eyebrow raised slightly, her fingers relaxing slightly in his hair without pulling away completely, the rest of her close enough to frozen that she hadn't even begun to think about putting that space between them again.
The answer gets a laugh from him, soft and careful, but fond, so very very fond. He knows her now, better than he did all those weeks ago. Even though the wanting hadn't waned a drop in all the time he's known her. If anything, it's gotten worse. He holds her to him, reluctant to let her go. Can't, not now that he's got her in his arms like this.
This is officially cheating, Abbie. You broke the rules you set. What's he supposed to do with you now?
"That answer's not gonna fly this time, Detective Mills." He drawls out her name, slow and certain, his eyes on her face, never once glancing away, even when she does. His attention on her is intent, unwavering. Patient.
She knows what the answer is, just like she knows that the moment she tells him, it changes things. Not just for her, not just for the two of them, but potentially the team as a whole-- and the sense of responsibility that she's always burdened herself with so heavily makes it hard for her to move forward, but if she doesn't, he'll go. Leave and possibly never turn up again, maybe even get himself killed.
She can't have that weighing on her. Hell, maybe she even owes it to him to be a little more honest. Surely she owes it to herself.
That smile pulls at one side of her mouth, small and uncertain but warm all the same.
"Well. Look at that," he murmurs, and there's warm humor in his voice now as his eyes brighten just slightly, a light in them that wasn't there before, hasn't been there for days, not since everything went pear-shaped and his whole world crumbled around him. He thought he'd had nothing left, nothing real. Not real enough to stay for, at any rate. He'd never been so relieved to be wrong.
He brushes his thumb against her cheek as he leans down and brushes another kiss against her lips, whisper-light. "Miracles really do happen."
It's that same tone of voice that had always somehow been too close for comfort for her before, always countered by an inappropriately cheerful threat to keep herself from reading too much into it, but she can't argue with him now, can't use any of her usual escape routes. Her lips twist into a brief but good-natured scowl for half a moment before his lips brush against hers again, and this time she pulls herself into the kiss to offer him something more than anger and frustration, even if it's not something she's comfortable giving a name just yet.
"You think this is miraculous?" she challenges, echoing just a little bit of his own humor. "You really are a non-believer, Nick."
"I just spent months chasing my proverbial tail around you, Abbie Mills, trying every trick I had in the book to try and get you to look at me, to see me," he counters, his hand tightening slightly against her waist. he pauses, interrupts himself to kiss her again, deeper this time, a hint of that hunger he's felt for weeks still simmering just under the surface. He lets her see it, just a peek, a hint of what he wants.
"The fact that you're finally looking, now, when I had every intention of walking away, and for good reason? That's either a miracle or the meanest trick I've ever heard of."
The kiss silences her before she can respond, insistent and hinting at a hell of a lot more, and its enough to make her finally ease her grip on his shirt, her hand falling to rest at one side of his waist instead.
"I looked," she corrects him, her smile turning just the tiniest bit grim even as she tilts her head to lean into another kiss, this one light and careful, not quite sure of how she wants to proceed from here. "I was just careful not to be caught."
Because it was about so much more than just the two of them.
"And you think, what?" he murmurs softly, letting his lips wander away from hers, against her cheek, back along her jaw, tasting and exploring as he went. "Letting yourself get caught now was a smart idea? This isn't going to be any safer, Abbie. For anyone."
He knew that. His head did. He'd known it all along, just as well as she did. That didn't mean he didn't want anyway. That had nothing to do with logic, with knowledge. It was another monster entirely, and at the moment it was wrecking havoc with his control. Which he had a surprising amount of, despite everyone's opinions of him.
She stiffens slightly; some part of her hasn't entirely agreed with the rest, isn't quite onboard with throwing caution to the wind with this one thing, because he's right-- he's absolutely right, and there's no amount of distraction that can make her forget it entirely, even if she does find herself turning her cheek towards him, catching her lower lip between her teeth as his lips move closer to her ear, brushing temptingly along the line of her jaw.
It's been a long time since she's let anyone this close to her. She never thought she'd actually give Hawley the chance, even though there had always been something in her gut that had wanted to take his bait whenever it was offered.
"I didn't say it was smart," she counters, her fingers disentangling themselves so that her hand can lay comfortably against the back of his neck, thumb brushing against the warmth of his skin, fingers creeping just below the rise of his jacket's collar. It's not going to be safer for anyone, and yet being this close is already beginning to awaken the need for things she's gone so long without, the things she's always refused to let herself have, gone to great lengths to separate herself from.
"But if it means you don't disappear, maybe I can afford to be a little stupid."
He follows the line of her jaw back until he can brush his lips against her ear, wanting to chase away some of that tension he'd felt creep back in, the doubt she has about what she's doing, about what they're doing. Maybe she should be doubting, maybe they both should. But it's easier to ignore when he's got her in his arms like this. Especially with her touching him like that, absent little things that feel wonderful as he brushes his lips against the curve of her ear.
She turns back to him, her hand moving from the back of his neck to lay flat against the side of face, turning him towards her so that she can lean in and kiss him squarely on the lips a second time, a deliberate show of certainty, an attempt to offset the very tension he was doing his best to chase away. Whatever came next wouldn't be without consequences, but she'd deal with those when they came. Right now, what mattered most to her was that they didn't lose him entirely-- that she didn't lose him, whatever it was he meant to her.
The kiss breaks and she pulls back just enough to nod firmly, meeting his eyes with a newly summoned surety, intent on letting him know she meant what she said, now as well as everything before it.
"It does," she says evenly, somber. "I like having you around."
Like with so many other sentiments, less was more with her, and the smile that pulls at the corner of her mouth says as much.
"And I think letting you drive out of here without giving you a fair chance would be a pretty big mistake."
"Well. Let's hope you're right," he quips, his voice a low smooth drawl as he wraps an arm about her waist, anchoring her against him as he gazes down at her, unable to tear his gaze away. "I guess it looks like I'll be staying a little longer than I planned, then."
He pauses, and his grin melts into something more serious at that. "But Abbie, I still gotta find her. She's too dangerous to let loose out there. Especially after what we saw. If I get word she's turned up... I gotta go. You know that."
That part, she can't argue, no matter how much some small and silly sentimental part of her wants to refuse. She still thinks he should ask for help, still thinks he shouldn't try to do the whole thing on his own-- but if there's word on Carmilla, he's right. He can't leave her to her own devices. She's a danger to everyone around her, no matter where she goes.
Her own smile fades, even as she gives him a single nod, the hand at his waist flexing and falling away so that she can encircle it with her arm instead.
"I know. You can't just forget about her-- and you shouldn't." That much, they can agree on. "But when that time comes, you let us know. If we can find a way to help, we will. If you really have to go on your own--"
She grimaces, pressing her lips together, though it turns into a genuine smile a moment later, however reserved. Resigned, perhaps.
"Then make sure you're leaving to take care of business, not to run away."
He studies her fora long moment, searches her face, measures her words, before finally dipping his head in a nod. "Deal," he answers, as if they'd been bartering for this all along. Maybe, in some way, they had been.
"So, Miss Mills. Since I suddenly have my calender cleared for the rest of the evening, what should we do now?"
She nods again. That deal, she's willing to take, at least for now. Time would tell if she would have any further conditions to add, but as it was, she thought it was fair. Leave if he had to, but be damn careful-- and come back, considering she felt they were all in agreement that he was welcome in Sleepy Hollow. There would always be a place for him among friends.
Anything more than that, she wasn't sure she could say at the moment, but she hasn't forgotten how warm he is, hasn't forgotten what his lips tasted like or just how good it feels to be this close to another human being in this way, for the first time in ages.
"I'm not expected back anywhere," she begins carefully, raising both eyebrows ever-so-slightly. "And I think everyone else expects you to be halfway to the Canadian border by now."
"Canada?" he scoffs with a laugh, then reaches into the truck bed to retrieve his duffel bag he'd tossed in there, planning on heading straight out. With that plan now cancelled, he might as well unpack again. Eventually. "Why on earth would I run away to Canada? Not nearly enough nude beaches and fruity drinks up there."
It's easy to keep that part of it light as he slings his duffel up and over one shoulder, bracing it easily. Then he holds his free hand out to her, still and patient, in invitation. Leaving it up to her if she wanted to come.
"Well. If you like. I've got a perfectly comfortable boat nearby. Can open a bottle, order some take-out, anything you like."
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(no subject)
Date: 2015-04-25 01:47 pm (UTC)It intrigues him enough that he pushes away from the front of the truck, moving back towards her, coming until he stood directly before her, staring down at her slim, stubborn figure. He was close enough that he could feel the heat of her, although he was careful not to touch, despite invading her personal space.
"And what is it I'd be giving up, Abbie?"
(no subject)
Date: 2015-05-18 08:28 pm (UTC)"This team is a family," she says firmly, unknowingly echoing what Jenny had told him in so many words back in the archives. "Whether you like it or not, you're a part of it. This isn't a battle you can just walk out on. You may not think so, but we need you-- and I'm pretty damn sure you need us."
A pause.
"I thought we meant more to you than this."
(no subject)
Date: 2015-05-19 03:24 am (UTC)"You do." That much he can confess, and there's regret thick in his voice because of it. It's true and he knows it. "Don't you get it, Mills? That's why I have to go."
(no subject)
Date: 2015-05-19 03:45 am (UTC)Maybe he doesn't think so, maybe he feels like it's the only thing he can do if he wants to protect people, either from himself or anyone else from his past, but this, this is something she knows a lot about. She was never as openly angry about things as Jenny had been, always found different ways to channel her rage, different ways to act out, learned to keep it quiet as she got older-- but it was still there. It probably always would be, no matter how much time had passed.
"If you care about someone, you don't leave. That's not doing anyone any favors. You don't leave your family, Hawley." Her father had left. Her mother had been taken from them. Nothing good ever came from people leaving. "Don't matter how much better you think it'll be. The only person who will feel better is you-- maybe not even that. What about the people you leave behind?"
(no subject)
Date: 2015-05-19 11:47 pm (UTC)"Which is a novel experience, let me tell you what. I'm tired of sticking around and watching the people I care about die. Or turn into monsters themselves. Staying's never done me a lick of good. The thought of staying until they leave me? That makes me feel a whole hell of a lot better about cutting my losses now before I have to see it go down again."
(no subject)
Date: 2015-05-20 03:38 am (UTC)She gets it, but it's not enough.
"That's not how this is gonna go down." A stubborn refusal, as if this were actually her choice to make. She knows its not, but words are failing her, reason and inspiration falling short when they normally served her so well. His insistence isn't the only thing that's not enough; this need to run is so deeply ingrained in him that there's nothing she can say that will change his mind-- but there might be something else.
That firm mask of hers begins to slip, just a little, just long enough for a glimpse of something more vulnerable to peek through, something oddly and yet undeniably uncertain. Abbie Mills was a woman with a reputation for being self-possessed, certain and stalwart in all things, and yet for half a moment, she falters.
"If you leave," she begins evenly, her voice quieter than before, "I'm never going to see you again." It feels true, like he'll vanish into thin air the minute she lets him get to his truck and pull out of this lot. She's not the only one his disappearance would hurt-- but it was going to hurt a hell of a lot more than she would have thought. It was starting to sink in just how much.
It happens quickly, fluidly. That single step between them is gone in an instant, her hand bracing against the back of his neck as she grabs the front of his shirt to tug him downwards without warning, meeting him halfway to press her lips against his, hard and thinly veiling anger and a thousand other things, things she'd refused to comment on or even acknowledge over the past several months.
Screw it.
(no subject)
Date: 2015-05-20 08:43 pm (UTC)The words he didn't think she'd say. The ones he'd been counting on her not to say, actually. Because as long as it was about the team, the unit, he could still walk away. Maybe even without looking back. They were strong as a team, a family. He'd seen that from the outside, having watched them in action for weeks now. He helped, sure, but they'd been functioning just fine even before he'd shown up. Yes, they'd made a place for him, but it was one he could step out of as easily as he'd stepped in and not leave too gaping a hole in his absence.
This, though. This wasn't about the unit, the group. The family. She'd made it personal. She'd flashed him a look and in one second he'd seen the vulnerability underneath, the one he'd all but convinced himself wasn't there, and if it was, it wasn't for him.
When it was the team, he could walk away. When it was Abbie?
Christ, he wasn't sure anyone would have the strength for that.
Before he can open his mouth to say anything - what, he has no idea, all the words have died on his tongue, because what does he say to that? Deny her words? He can't. She might be right, as much as that very idea makes him ache in ways he's been trying not to think about. Things have been set down pretty clear, or so he thought.
When she steps forward and closes the space between them and drags him down for an unexpected kiss, everything he thought he'd known about where they were goes right out the window.
For a moment, he's too surprised to react, but that doesn't last long, not when he's wanted this for... he's wanted it for a while. Maybe since he first laid eyes on her. But it wasn't gonna happen, he'd finally admitted that to himself. Now, though. It was. It was happening, and for a moment the yearning washed over him so hard it left him breathless. All he could do was wrap his arms about her waist and drag her close, a soft sound murmured against her lips as he bent to meet her, knowing she was already up on tiptoes to reach this far. She was such a tiny thing, but there was so much life in her, so much energy. He'd been drawn to her from the start, like a moth to the flame. Even now he was helpless to resist, couldn't even find it in himself to want to.
All he wanted to do was to freeze time right in this moment and stay right here with her pressed against him, kissing her. His lips parted against hers, tasting her, memorizing the feel of her lips against his. one hand lifted to cradle against the side of her face, her skin warm and soft under the calloused tips of his fingers.
(no subject)
Date: 2015-05-21 03:33 am (UTC)It was about so much more than whether or not she thought she could trust him enough to open up. It was about keeping her focus on the mission, refusing to allow herself to be distracted. She'd always put her work before everything else, and her calling as a Witness? No different. It was about not letting herself give in to a distraction that could hurt the sister she'd waited far too many years to reconcile with. It was about not allowing herself to feel more for anyone than warm camaraderie, respect, because to admit she felt something for Hawley meant admitting that there were also very complicated feelings concerning her partner, something she was nowhere near ready to be honest with herself about.
There were a hundred different reasons to keep pretending and to keep things simple, but the threat of him walking away and never turning back? It was enough to make her forget them, for now. It was enough to let her focus on what she did feel, just for a few moments, and in those moments she doesn't think of him as a complication or a criminal or anything at all other than who he actually is-- a trusted friend, someone she's come to rely on, someone who's saved her on more than one occasion and shown himself to have a hell of a lot more depth than she'd ever thought she'd give him credit for.
Her fingers tangle themselves in that long, unkempt hair of his, her grip on his shirt unrelenting as she opens her mouth beneath his, feeling herself relax in spite of her anger as one of his hands comes to rest at the small of her back, kissing him until there's no breath left in her, furious and desperate all at once. He's warm, as warm as she'd occasionally allowed herself to imagine he might be, arms strong and steady and the scent of him hitting her like a punch now that she's finally allowed herself to give up on distance-- for however long it lasts.
She presses her lips together when the kiss breaks for air, another flash of that uncertainty touching her eyes before it vanishes once more and she regains herself, her expression carefully blank, unreadable.
"Don't leave."
(no subject)
Date: 2015-05-21 03:40 am (UTC)He waits, his eyes n her in return and there's something dark and deep there that hadn't been before. Something he hadn't allowed himself, because she'd never allowed it. Every deflect, every decline, every enforcement of lack of interest - he'd persisted in site of them, for a while, but he could only go so far on his own two feet. To get anywhere, she had to meet him in the middle.
Now he had to make sure that's where she was before he turned around to meet her again, when he'd been all set to walk away for good.
"Who's asking?" he murmurs softly, his thumb brushing against her cheekbone, her skin so amazingly soft beneath his touch. "You, or the team?"
(no subject)
Date: 2015-05-21 04:11 am (UTC)"Whichever one will get me the 'yes'?"
It had worked once before.
(no subject)
Date: 2015-05-21 04:18 am (UTC)This is officially cheating, Abbie. You broke the rules you set. What's he supposed to do with you now?
"That answer's not gonna fly this time, Detective Mills." He drawls out her name, slow and certain, his eyes on her face, never once glancing away, even when she does. His attention on her is intent, unwavering. Patient.
(no subject)
Date: 2015-05-21 04:27 am (UTC)She can't have that weighing on her. Hell, maybe she even owes it to him to be a little more honest. Surely she owes it to herself.
That smile pulls at one side of her mouth, small and uncertain but warm all the same.
"Me. I'm asking."
(no subject)
Date: 2015-05-21 04:31 am (UTC)He brushes his thumb against her cheek as he leans down and brushes another kiss against her lips, whisper-light. "Miracles really do happen."
(no subject)
Date: 2015-05-21 04:39 am (UTC)"You think this is miraculous?" she challenges, echoing just a little bit of his own humor. "You really are a non-believer, Nick."
(no subject)
Date: 2015-05-21 04:44 am (UTC)"The fact that you're finally looking, now, when I had every intention of walking away, and for good reason? That's either a miracle or the meanest trick I've ever heard of."
(no subject)
Date: 2015-05-21 04:56 am (UTC)"I looked," she corrects him, her smile turning just the tiniest bit grim even as she tilts her head to lean into another kiss, this one light and careful, not quite sure of how she wants to proceed from here. "I was just careful not to be caught."
Because it was about so much more than just the two of them.
(no subject)
Date: 2015-05-21 12:29 pm (UTC)He knew that. His head did. He'd known it all along, just as well as she did. That didn't mean he didn't want anyway. That had nothing to do with logic, with knowledge. It was another monster entirely, and at the moment it was wrecking havoc with his control. Which he had a surprising amount of, despite everyone's opinions of him.
(no subject)
Date: 2015-05-21 04:21 pm (UTC)It's been a long time since she's let anyone this close to her. She never thought she'd actually give Hawley the chance, even though there had always been something in her gut that had wanted to take his bait whenever it was offered.
"I didn't say it was smart," she counters, her fingers disentangling themselves so that her hand can lay comfortably against the back of his neck, thumb brushing against the warmth of his skin, fingers creeping just below the rise of his jacket's collar. It's not going to be safer for anyone, and yet being this close is already beginning to awaken the need for things she's gone so long without, the things she's always refused to let herself have, gone to great lengths to separate herself from.
"But if it means you don't disappear, maybe I can afford to be a little stupid."
(no subject)
Date: 2015-05-21 04:32 pm (UTC)"Does it mean that much to you? That I stay?"
(no subject)
Date: 2015-05-21 07:55 pm (UTC)The kiss breaks and she pulls back just enough to nod firmly, meeting his eyes with a newly summoned surety, intent on letting him know she meant what she said, now as well as everything before it.
"It does," she says evenly, somber. "I like having you around."
Like with so many other sentiments, less was more with her, and the smile that pulls at the corner of her mouth says as much.
"And I think letting you drive out of here without giving you a fair chance would be a pretty big mistake."
(no subject)
Date: 2015-05-23 03:45 am (UTC)He pauses, and his grin melts into something more serious at that. "But Abbie, I still gotta find her. She's too dangerous to let loose out there. Especially after what we saw. If I get word she's turned up... I gotta go. You know that."
(no subject)
Date: 2015-05-23 04:13 am (UTC)Her own smile fades, even as she gives him a single nod, the hand at his waist flexing and falling away so that she can encircle it with her arm instead.
"I know. You can't just forget about her-- and you shouldn't." That much, they can agree on. "But when that time comes, you let us know. If we can find a way to help, we will. If you really have to go on your own--"
She grimaces, pressing her lips together, though it turns into a genuine smile a moment later, however reserved. Resigned, perhaps.
"Then make sure you're leaving to take care of business, not to run away."
(no subject)
Date: 2015-05-23 04:18 am (UTC)"So, Miss Mills. Since I suddenly have my calender cleared for the rest of the evening, what should we do now?"
(no subject)
Date: 2015-05-23 05:26 am (UTC)Anything more than that, she wasn't sure she could say at the moment, but she hasn't forgotten how warm he is, hasn't forgotten what his lips tasted like or just how good it feels to be this close to another human being in this way, for the first time in ages.
"I'm not expected back anywhere," she begins carefully, raising both eyebrows ever-so-slightly. "And I think everyone else expects you to be halfway to the Canadian border by now."
(no subject)
Date: 2015-05-24 02:41 am (UTC)It's easy to keep that part of it light as he slings his duffel up and over one shoulder, bracing it easily. Then he holds his free hand out to her, still and patient, in invitation. Leaving it up to her if she wanted to come.
"Well. If you like. I've got a perfectly comfortable boat nearby. Can open a bottle, order some take-out, anything you like."
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