Code Word: Waffles (David/Liz, PG)
Posted for the numb3rs_het Summer Challenge 2012. Prompts: Partner, Secret, Interrogation Room, Love...
Title: Code Word: Waffles
Pairing/Characters: David/Liz
Rating: PG
Word Count: 500
Summary: Mexico was the signal for distress. Waffles meant something else entirely.
Spoilers: None.
Notes/Warnings: This wasn't at all how this fic was supposed to go. But I hope you like it anyway (see Additional Author's Notes for more if you're curious.) And as always, much love and Jeremy Renner to my best friend, beta, and constant cheerleader... julietm. ♥ Thanks, bb! :)
Disclaimer: If you recognize it, regrettably - it's not mine.
David hovered behind Liz in the interrogation room, his width almost completely blocking her from the view of the observation room. If anyone was still in there watching, she knew they wouldn’t think anything of David’s proximity to his partner… noting only him looking over her shoulder to the case file on the table. From the angle of observation, the pair was simply going through the notes on the interrogation they’d just finished… at 4 am.
What an observer couldn’t see from behind that glass, with one of David’s hands grasping the opposite edge of Liz’s chair, was the way his other hand on the table gently caressed hers. He used only his thumb, brushing delicately over each of her fingers and letting her know if he had to be at the office this late, he was glad she was there with him.
Truthfully, the two made a great team with their usual partners on an undercover assignment across town… but working together more frequently meant they had to get creative in keeping their flourishing relationship a secret. It wasn’t that they didn’t want to tell co-workers. The problem was they already had to share everything with people at the office… space, time, air, coffee, information. They both agreed it was nice to finally have just one thing outside the office that was for them and them alone.
His voice was near her ear then, asking her a question about a note she’d made. She could hear how tired he was, could feel it in the way his body rested more into hers than he probably intended. And all she really wanted to do was move into him, resting her cheek against his, even for just a moment. But she couldn’t. Not yet.
As though he sensed this from her, he turned slightly and she saw the smile through the exhaustion in his eyes. “It’s late… or really early,” he chuckled and gave her hand a final caress before he pushed back and straightened. His tall form stretched slightly behind her, distancing himself from her as he took a step toward the door. His large hand, a hand that could span the small of her back when he touched her, pushed the door open and held it for her. “Maybe we should continue this discussion over some caffeine and breakfast. How do you feel about waffles?”
Liz fought the smile that instantly sprang to her lips at his words. She nodded her head, locking eyes with him before she met him at the door. “Waffles are my favorite,” she answered, only inches separating his body from hers courtesy the confinement of the door way. She watched him nod, biting back a smile as he let her walk ahead of him before she heard the interrogation room door close behind him.
In a line of work where Mexico was a distress word, it was always nice to hear waffles. Because, at least for David and Liz, waffles meant “I love you.”
Title: Code Word: Waffles
Pairing/Characters: David/Liz
Rating: PG
Word Count: 500
Summary: Mexico was the signal for distress. Waffles meant something else entirely.
Spoilers: None.
Notes/Warnings: This wasn't at all how this fic was supposed to go. But I hope you like it anyway (see Additional Author's Notes for more if you're curious.) And as always, much love and Jeremy Renner to my best friend, beta, and constant cheerleader... julietm. ♥ Thanks, bb! :)
Disclaimer: If you recognize it, regrettably - it's not mine.
David hovered behind Liz in the interrogation room, his width almost completely blocking her from the view of the observation room. If anyone was still in there watching, she knew they wouldn’t think anything of David’s proximity to his partner… noting only him looking over her shoulder to the case file on the table. From the angle of observation, the pair was simply going through the notes on the interrogation they’d just finished… at 4 am.
What an observer couldn’t see from behind that glass, with one of David’s hands grasping the opposite edge of Liz’s chair, was the way his other hand on the table gently caressed hers. He used only his thumb, brushing delicately over each of her fingers and letting her know if he had to be at the office this late, he was glad she was there with him.
Truthfully, the two made a great team with their usual partners on an undercover assignment across town… but working together more frequently meant they had to get creative in keeping their flourishing relationship a secret. It wasn’t that they didn’t want to tell co-workers. The problem was they already had to share everything with people at the office… space, time, air, coffee, information. They both agreed it was nice to finally have just one thing outside the office that was for them and them alone.
His voice was near her ear then, asking her a question about a note she’d made. She could hear how tired he was, could feel it in the way his body rested more into hers than he probably intended. And all she really wanted to do was move into him, resting her cheek against his, even for just a moment. But she couldn’t. Not yet.
As though he sensed this from her, he turned slightly and she saw the smile through the exhaustion in his eyes. “It’s late… or really early,” he chuckled and gave her hand a final caress before he pushed back and straightened. His tall form stretched slightly behind her, distancing himself from her as he took a step toward the door. His large hand, a hand that could span the small of her back when he touched her, pushed the door open and held it for her. “Maybe we should continue this discussion over some caffeine and breakfast. How do you feel about waffles?”
Liz fought the smile that instantly sprang to her lips at his words. She nodded her head, locking eyes with him before she met him at the door. “Waffles are my favorite,” she answered, only inches separating his body from hers courtesy the confinement of the door way. She watched him nod, biting back a smile as he let her walk ahead of him before she heard the interrogation room door close behind him.
In a line of work where Mexico was a distress word, it was always nice to hear waffles. Because, at least for David and Liz, waffles meant “I love you.”