A Home Is Not A House (3/5)
Title: A Home Is Not A House (or, five times the ARC was more than just a place to work.)
Rating: T
Characters: Connor Temple, Jenny Lewis
Word Count: 910
Warning: mentioned character death
Summary: She'd never had a brother, but she was starting to very fiercely envy Connor's sisters.
3: A Comfort
Jenny strode into one of the empty labs and shut the door a little harder than was strictly necessary, dropping into a chair just as the tears that'd been threatening spilled over her lashes. That stupid, stubborn, selfish...man! Trying to put up with Cutter after what happened in Leek's menagerie was liable to make her go prematurely grey. She knew that he was in pain over losing Stephen, but he wasn't the only person grieving, that bastard. She covered her face with both hands and barely repressed a sob.
"Jenny?"
She let out a startled squeak, jumping halfway out of her skin at the disembodied sound of Connor's voice...just before the air vent slid back, and he poked his head through the hole. "Jesus, what are you doing up there?" she gasped, turning her face away and hastily wiping the tears off her face, though her mascara was beyond saving at this point.
"Never mind me. Why are you crying? Are you okay?" He dropped down to the desk below the vent lightly and jumped down to sit in the chair next to her.
Jenny shook her head, still trying to act like she was alright, but when Connor placed a gentle hand against her shoulder, the hesitant, sweet, kind gesture all but broke her heart. Leaning against his side, she let out a soft sob, admitting the latest round of hateful things that Cutter had thrown at her like knives. Usually, the words of one stubborn old boffin didn't bother her, but when brought in conjunction with everything else happening, she'd finally cracked. Connor didn't say anything as she spoke, only stroked her hair and rubbed gentle circles on her back with one hand.
Finally, when the tears ebbed, Jenny sat up and brushed at her damp cheeks, ashamed of losing her composure so completely. "I'm sorry for falling apart like that, Connor. You don't need to hear my problems, I'm sure," she mumbled thickly.
"Y'know, I kinda like it," he said, but there was none of that usual smug pride that usually came from a man that'd comforted a vulnerable woman. To her everlasting surprise, Connor produced a handkerchief from the pocket of his waistcoat and dried off her cheeks like she was a child. "I've been a big brother most of my life," he said, which she hadn't known. She was staring to realise that she knew very little about him. "I'm the oldest, so being a brother is probably the one thing I know that I'm good at. Like, actually good at. I like it. The...giving advice, being the shoulder to cry on, offering to hit the bloke in question even if he is significantly bigger than I am."
She quashed a fresh wave of tears with a weak, watery giggle. She'd never had a brother, but she was starting to very fiercely envy Connor's sisters.
"I will hit him, if you think it'll help. But only if you promise to say good at my funeral, too," Connor offered, and she giggled again at the mental image of him challenging his own professor to a round of fisticuffs in the atrium. He pressed the handkerchief into her hand. "Here, wipe your nose."
Jenny wiped at her nose, knowing she had to look a complete fright but feeling unreasonably comforted either way. With a sigh, she leant against his shoulder, and he slid an arm around her back as if she had every right to lean on him and cry on his shoulder. "How is it that you can be the most perfect sort of gentleman with me, and yet the moment you get within ten feet of Abby, you instantly swallow both of your feet?" she asked and felt more than heard him chuckle.
"Because I'm talking to you like I talk to my sisters, pet. I'm good at being a brother. It comes naturally. But Abby...I want her to like me. I don't want her to be like my sisters at all." Connor rubbed a hand up and down her back. "Do I need to hit him?"
Jenny laughed and shook her head. "No. Thank you, though. I mean it."
He retracted his arm and stood up, straightening out his clothes. She hadn't ever noticed that he was taller than she was before. "Alright, I'm gonna get back to the ADD before Lester blows a gasket or something. But, if you ever wanna talk, Jenny, you can always come see me. I'm a right idiot, but I know how to be a brother."
"You're not an idiot, Connor," she corrected gently, reaching out to touch his wrist. "And you are a very good brother."
He blushed a little, shifting his weight, and then he utterly shocked her by leaning forward and hugging her tightly, then pressing a kiss to her temple. "Take care of yourself, Jenny. And my offer still stands," he added before walking to the door.
Jenny waited until he had one hand on the door, then looked down at the handkerchief still clasped in her fingers and called, "Connor, why were you in the air vents? Were you hiding from him, too?"
He turned back to give her a small, brittle smile. "I don't hide. I was...pondering."
Rating: T
Characters: Connor Temple, Jenny Lewis
Word Count: 910
Warning: mentioned character death
Summary: She'd never had a brother, but she was starting to very fiercely envy Connor's sisters.
3: A Comfort
Jenny strode into one of the empty labs and shut the door a little harder than was strictly necessary, dropping into a chair just as the tears that'd been threatening spilled over her lashes. That stupid, stubborn, selfish...man! Trying to put up with Cutter after what happened in Leek's menagerie was liable to make her go prematurely grey. She knew that he was in pain over losing Stephen, but he wasn't the only person grieving, that bastard. She covered her face with both hands and barely repressed a sob.
"Jenny?"
She let out a startled squeak, jumping halfway out of her skin at the disembodied sound of Connor's voice...just before the air vent slid back, and he poked his head through the hole. "Jesus, what are you doing up there?" she gasped, turning her face away and hastily wiping the tears off her face, though her mascara was beyond saving at this point.
"Never mind me. Why are you crying? Are you okay?" He dropped down to the desk below the vent lightly and jumped down to sit in the chair next to her.
Jenny shook her head, still trying to act like she was alright, but when Connor placed a gentle hand against her shoulder, the hesitant, sweet, kind gesture all but broke her heart. Leaning against his side, she let out a soft sob, admitting the latest round of hateful things that Cutter had thrown at her like knives. Usually, the words of one stubborn old boffin didn't bother her, but when brought in conjunction with everything else happening, she'd finally cracked. Connor didn't say anything as she spoke, only stroked her hair and rubbed gentle circles on her back with one hand.
Finally, when the tears ebbed, Jenny sat up and brushed at her damp cheeks, ashamed of losing her composure so completely. "I'm sorry for falling apart like that, Connor. You don't need to hear my problems, I'm sure," she mumbled thickly.
"Y'know, I kinda like it," he said, but there was none of that usual smug pride that usually came from a man that'd comforted a vulnerable woman. To her everlasting surprise, Connor produced a handkerchief from the pocket of his waistcoat and dried off her cheeks like she was a child. "I've been a big brother most of my life," he said, which she hadn't known. She was staring to realise that she knew very little about him. "I'm the oldest, so being a brother is probably the one thing I know that I'm good at. Like, actually good at. I like it. The...giving advice, being the shoulder to cry on, offering to hit the bloke in question even if he is significantly bigger than I am."
She quashed a fresh wave of tears with a weak, watery giggle. She'd never had a brother, but she was starting to very fiercely envy Connor's sisters.
"I will hit him, if you think it'll help. But only if you promise to say good at my funeral, too," Connor offered, and she giggled again at the mental image of him challenging his own professor to a round of fisticuffs in the atrium. He pressed the handkerchief into her hand. "Here, wipe your nose."
Jenny wiped at her nose, knowing she had to look a complete fright but feeling unreasonably comforted either way. With a sigh, she leant against his shoulder, and he slid an arm around her back as if she had every right to lean on him and cry on his shoulder. "How is it that you can be the most perfect sort of gentleman with me, and yet the moment you get within ten feet of Abby, you instantly swallow both of your feet?" she asked and felt more than heard him chuckle.
"Because I'm talking to you like I talk to my sisters, pet. I'm good at being a brother. It comes naturally. But Abby...I want her to like me. I don't want her to be like my sisters at all." Connor rubbed a hand up and down her back. "Do I need to hit him?"
Jenny laughed and shook her head. "No. Thank you, though. I mean it."
He retracted his arm and stood up, straightening out his clothes. She hadn't ever noticed that he was taller than she was before. "Alright, I'm gonna get back to the ADD before Lester blows a gasket or something. But, if you ever wanna talk, Jenny, you can always come see me. I'm a right idiot, but I know how to be a brother."
"You're not an idiot, Connor," she corrected gently, reaching out to touch his wrist. "And you are a very good brother."
He blushed a little, shifting his weight, and then he utterly shocked her by leaning forward and hugging her tightly, then pressing a kiss to her temple. "Take care of yourself, Jenny. And my offer still stands," he added before walking to the door.
Jenny waited until he had one hand on the door, then looked down at the handkerchief still clasped in her fingers and called, "Connor, why were you in the air vents? Were you hiding from him, too?"
He turned back to give her a small, brittle smile. "I don't hide. I was...pondering."