Fic: Sleepless Nights (1/1)
Title: Sleepless Nights
Fandom: Murder Call
Characters: Tessa Vance, Steve Hayden
Prompt: 045. Moon
Word Count: 1649
Rating: G (K)
Summary: Kind of tag fic to "Dead Clean". Tessa cannot sleep.
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters. They belong to Jennifer Rowe, Hal McElroy and Southern Star. I make no profit out of this.
Sleepless Nights
Tessa stood on the balcony, gazing out on the scattered city lights from the distance, trailing the occasional car down the street with her eyes. Although it was a warm night, she'd still chosen the whole pyjama set instead of just a T-shirt, even though it now stuck slightly to her skin, clammy and causing her to shiver whenever a stray wind streaked by.
But she didn't want to change into something lighter. She didn't want to risk feeling too comfortable.
She studied the growing trees on the other side of the street. It looked so strange with those trees in the middle of a cemented pathway. To relieve the dull grey city pavement: A small touch of nature. They didn't belong here. And they seemed to know it too. They weren't blooming like they would in the country. In the country they'd stretch far, far up and to the sides, flourishing in the wealth of fresh air and clean water.
The trees reminded Tessa of her grandparents' house, their back garden. They lived further out of the city, just on the border between civilization and the vast bush. Summer vacations and holidays had been spent driving up to them and staying for the remainder of their spare time. At least until her father's villainous phone rang and had cut their visit short.
Tessa sighed, resting her head in her hands as she leaned on the railing . Another breath of wind pushed down her back, chilling the heated, clammy skin. A shower could remove the sweat. A cold one could cool her down and wake her up.
But she wasn't in the mood for cold showers. Granted, she wasn't in the mood for a lot of things, but especially anything that would most certainly keep her up for the remainder of the night. Even she knew her body needed the sleep to function, that it needed to relax. She was just delaying the process of getting in bed, making up excuses to hide the fact she didn't actually want to go to sleep.
The night traffic downtown was quieter tonight. She could hardly hear it. Usually it managed to reach all the way to this part of the city, but not tonight. Tessa wondered what it might be. It reminded her that she could barely hear any sirens. That was unusual. There was always some accident or a sort of crime somewhere.
Without thinking, she pushed her face up towards the sky. No clouds. No moon. Only a vast darkness stretching from one end of her sight to the other. Spread across the sky like a carpet. Her thoughts began to swirl around her mind: Where are the stars? A brow furrowed as she scrutinized the darkness for any small fragrance of light. She could only see three or four, though.
“There are more stars in the country.”
Where had that come from? Oh, yes. Steve. After the Warbourne murder, the man with the psychic abilities. Or so he claimed. Tessa had ended up in a discussion with Steve after the killer had been nailed. He'd been convinced there were more stars in the country than in the city. She'd tried to tell him otherwise. She'd called him a farm boy.
A smile brushed Tessa's lips at the memory. Steve had laughed. He had a wonderful laugh, just like his smile.
She shook the thoughts out of her head. There is not much of a point teasing myself. Nothing will ever come out of it. It’s a mutual agreement. Right?
Confused and disturbed by these new thoughts, Tessa pushed away from the railing and stepped back into the darkness of her living room. Normally she'd leave a light on, or let the moonlight light up the items of the room, but tonight it was dark. Dark and quiet. Unusual.
But the feeling was just the same. Nothing could make her relax and go to sleep. She could see the hours had passed since the last time she'd checked her watch. No work tomorrow. Day off. She could sleep as long as she wanted to. If only she could force herself to sleep.
She sat down on the couch, not paying the open doorway to the bedroom another thought. She then curled up and huddled together, despite the warmth. She was suddenly cool and shivering, and wrapped the blanket around herself tightly, leaning back in the soft pillows.
Stay awake, don’t fall asleep. Nothing can protect you while you sleep.
I think someone could do it.
Stay awake, don’t fall asleep. They will chase you endlessly. You won’t get any rest and you know it. Stay awake.
Tessa wondered if she should read a book, but she found her concentration lacking and she hated reading something when she wasn't into it. Television? No, only bad commercials and old reruns of B-films.
If it'd been an appropriate time, she would’ve rung Steve. Or Dee. She'd called them both at nights before, but only during work. She wouldn’t wake them when there was finally a day off. They did way too much overwork already; they needed the days off.
At least the others did. Tessa like work. It kept her mind focused, away from all those things that… Her mind didn't wander off like it did on days off. The others thought she was a workaholic because she enjoyed it. She did, to a certain extent, enjoy the work, the challenge and felt sated when she knew there was a closed case somewhere with her name on it.
But she didn’t enjoy the murders. She'd never enjoyed the murders. People might have thought she was a cold fish to stand up straight and non-fazed when there was a rotting body lying right under her nose. She wished they'd know differently. She wished she'd been better at sharing. Expose her vulnerabilities. Numbers makes one stronger, they say. Maybe so, but so far she wasn't ready to share.
There’s too much bad in my past. I don’t want to dig it up or put it on someone else’s shoulders.
So instead Tessa sat through the night, sleepless and gradually falling apart from exhaustion. People might not see it, as she put on the steel mask of energy and vibration, but she'd getting more tired. She needed sleep. But she wouldn’t allow herself to sleep. It was too risky.
It’d always been too risky.
***
Steve stood in the twilight, leaning against the door frame, the light from the kitchenette casting dancing shadows across his face. There was a gentle hum in the room, the steady breath of a woman snuggled into the blankets on the bed. Her hair is everywhere, curly and unruly, and still very enchanting. One particular lock has travelled down across her cheek. He was itching to brush it away.
When Tessa asked him to come over, Steve had never imagined she was asking him to help her sleep. The invincible Tessa Vance, afraid of shadows? Afraid of dreams? And still, Steve couldn’t find anything amusing about it. In their line of work, who didn’t distrust the night and what it offered? Horrible images dragged up from the depth of what they had seen, attacking in the dead of night when they were unprepared, at their weakest. Steve understood very well Tessa’s feelings on the matter. In some way, he feared the night as well.
Nightmares aside, it had still surprised him when Tessa asked him to stay, the magnitude of what she was asking not escaping either of them. This was beyond a partnership. Crossing into personal space, for greater deeds or lesser ones, was truly even more than just friends. And yet, it wasn’t the step above friends either. No, staying to help a friend and partner sleep, if only by their presence was more than friends and less than lovers.
Steve stepped away from the doorway further into the room. He stopped by the bed, swallowed by shadows. Scarce light fell on Tessa’s peaceful features, on the single lock lying awkwardly across her eye and nose. It would tickle, probably, be a nuisance while she slept. It could wake her up, his mind reasoned feebly.
A hand reached out, but paused right above the golden lock of hair. There was a soft smile upon her face, so etheral, so beautiful. Steve watched her lips, slightly open, move as she breathed in and out. In and out, in a steady rhythm. Tantalising him, captivating him.
He shouldn’t really be here. His mission was complete. Tessa was asleep. And yet, as he tried to move back to the door, his resistance fell once the lock of hair came within view. Steve crumbled, leaned forward and brushed the lock away from her forehead.
It was soft.
Tessa mumbled something in her sleep, sighing peacefully. It sent butterflies into his stomach. Steve stepped back as if burned, away to the comfort of the doorway where he wasn’t so excruiatingly close. Hands felt for the solid wood, for silent support as his mind reeled.
After an unknown period of time where he'd grown young and soft again, Steve willed himself to open his eyes again. Tessa lay still, not speaking his name again. More than friends, less than lovers. That was how their destinies were entwined, always bound by the honour to old ghosts and rules of the society.
Steve would always be a friend. A friend in love, yes, but only that. Neither he nor Tessa would ever take the step further, beyond partners, beyond friends. But Steve could live with that. As long as he was near her. As long as she was in his life somehow, he could live with it.
Drawing his gaze away from the perfect face, deep in sleep, Steve went back into the living room, putting on his shoes. The deadlock clicked as he left.
Fandom: Murder Call
Characters: Tessa Vance, Steve Hayden
Prompt: 045. Moon
Word Count: 1649
Rating: G (K)
Summary: Kind of tag fic to "Dead Clean". Tessa cannot sleep.
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters. They belong to Jennifer Rowe, Hal McElroy and Southern Star. I make no profit out of this.
Sleepless Nights
Tessa stood on the balcony, gazing out on the scattered city lights from the distance, trailing the occasional car down the street with her eyes. Although it was a warm night, she'd still chosen the whole pyjama set instead of just a T-shirt, even though it now stuck slightly to her skin, clammy and causing her to shiver whenever a stray wind streaked by.
But she didn't want to change into something lighter. She didn't want to risk feeling too comfortable.
She studied the growing trees on the other side of the street. It looked so strange with those trees in the middle of a cemented pathway. To relieve the dull grey city pavement: A small touch of nature. They didn't belong here. And they seemed to know it too. They weren't blooming like they would in the country. In the country they'd stretch far, far up and to the sides, flourishing in the wealth of fresh air and clean water.
The trees reminded Tessa of her grandparents' house, their back garden. They lived further out of the city, just on the border between civilization and the vast bush. Summer vacations and holidays had been spent driving up to them and staying for the remainder of their spare time. At least until her father's villainous phone rang and had cut their visit short.
Tessa sighed, resting her head in her hands as she leaned on the railing . Another breath of wind pushed down her back, chilling the heated, clammy skin. A shower could remove the sweat. A cold one could cool her down and wake her up.
But she wasn't in the mood for cold showers. Granted, she wasn't in the mood for a lot of things, but especially anything that would most certainly keep her up for the remainder of the night. Even she knew her body needed the sleep to function, that it needed to relax. She was just delaying the process of getting in bed, making up excuses to hide the fact she didn't actually want to go to sleep.
The night traffic downtown was quieter tonight. She could hardly hear it. Usually it managed to reach all the way to this part of the city, but not tonight. Tessa wondered what it might be. It reminded her that she could barely hear any sirens. That was unusual. There was always some accident or a sort of crime somewhere.
Without thinking, she pushed her face up towards the sky. No clouds. No moon. Only a vast darkness stretching from one end of her sight to the other. Spread across the sky like a carpet. Her thoughts began to swirl around her mind: Where are the stars? A brow furrowed as she scrutinized the darkness for any small fragrance of light. She could only see three or four, though.
“There are more stars in the country.”
Where had that come from? Oh, yes. Steve. After the Warbourne murder, the man with the psychic abilities. Or so he claimed. Tessa had ended up in a discussion with Steve after the killer had been nailed. He'd been convinced there were more stars in the country than in the city. She'd tried to tell him otherwise. She'd called him a farm boy.
A smile brushed Tessa's lips at the memory. Steve had laughed. He had a wonderful laugh, just like his smile.
She shook the thoughts out of her head. There is not much of a point teasing myself. Nothing will ever come out of it. It’s a mutual agreement. Right?
Confused and disturbed by these new thoughts, Tessa pushed away from the railing and stepped back into the darkness of her living room. Normally she'd leave a light on, or let the moonlight light up the items of the room, but tonight it was dark. Dark and quiet. Unusual.
But the feeling was just the same. Nothing could make her relax and go to sleep. She could see the hours had passed since the last time she'd checked her watch. No work tomorrow. Day off. She could sleep as long as she wanted to. If only she could force herself to sleep.
She sat down on the couch, not paying the open doorway to the bedroom another thought. She then curled up and huddled together, despite the warmth. She was suddenly cool and shivering, and wrapped the blanket around herself tightly, leaning back in the soft pillows.
Stay awake, don’t fall asleep. Nothing can protect you while you sleep.
I think someone could do it.
Stay awake, don’t fall asleep. They will chase you endlessly. You won’t get any rest and you know it. Stay awake.
Tessa wondered if she should read a book, but she found her concentration lacking and she hated reading something when she wasn't into it. Television? No, only bad commercials and old reruns of B-films.
If it'd been an appropriate time, she would’ve rung Steve. Or Dee. She'd called them both at nights before, but only during work. She wouldn’t wake them when there was finally a day off. They did way too much overwork already; they needed the days off.
At least the others did. Tessa like work. It kept her mind focused, away from all those things that… Her mind didn't wander off like it did on days off. The others thought she was a workaholic because she enjoyed it. She did, to a certain extent, enjoy the work, the challenge and felt sated when she knew there was a closed case somewhere with her name on it.
But she didn’t enjoy the murders. She'd never enjoyed the murders. People might have thought she was a cold fish to stand up straight and non-fazed when there was a rotting body lying right under her nose. She wished they'd know differently. She wished she'd been better at sharing. Expose her vulnerabilities. Numbers makes one stronger, they say. Maybe so, but so far she wasn't ready to share.
There’s too much bad in my past. I don’t want to dig it up or put it on someone else’s shoulders.
So instead Tessa sat through the night, sleepless and gradually falling apart from exhaustion. People might not see it, as she put on the steel mask of energy and vibration, but she'd getting more tired. She needed sleep. But she wouldn’t allow herself to sleep. It was too risky.
It’d always been too risky.
***
Steve stood in the twilight, leaning against the door frame, the light from the kitchenette casting dancing shadows across his face. There was a gentle hum in the room, the steady breath of a woman snuggled into the blankets on the bed. Her hair is everywhere, curly and unruly, and still very enchanting. One particular lock has travelled down across her cheek. He was itching to brush it away.
When Tessa asked him to come over, Steve had never imagined she was asking him to help her sleep. The invincible Tessa Vance, afraid of shadows? Afraid of dreams? And still, Steve couldn’t find anything amusing about it. In their line of work, who didn’t distrust the night and what it offered? Horrible images dragged up from the depth of what they had seen, attacking in the dead of night when they were unprepared, at their weakest. Steve understood very well Tessa’s feelings on the matter. In some way, he feared the night as well.
Nightmares aside, it had still surprised him when Tessa asked him to stay, the magnitude of what she was asking not escaping either of them. This was beyond a partnership. Crossing into personal space, for greater deeds or lesser ones, was truly even more than just friends. And yet, it wasn’t the step above friends either. No, staying to help a friend and partner sleep, if only by their presence was more than friends and less than lovers.
Steve stepped away from the doorway further into the room. He stopped by the bed, swallowed by shadows. Scarce light fell on Tessa’s peaceful features, on the single lock lying awkwardly across her eye and nose. It would tickle, probably, be a nuisance while she slept. It could wake her up, his mind reasoned feebly.
A hand reached out, but paused right above the golden lock of hair. There was a soft smile upon her face, so etheral, so beautiful. Steve watched her lips, slightly open, move as she breathed in and out. In and out, in a steady rhythm. Tantalising him, captivating him.
He shouldn’t really be here. His mission was complete. Tessa was asleep. And yet, as he tried to move back to the door, his resistance fell once the lock of hair came within view. Steve crumbled, leaned forward and brushed the lock away from her forehead.
It was soft.
Tessa mumbled something in her sleep, sighing peacefully. It sent butterflies into his stomach. Steve stepped back as if burned, away to the comfort of the doorway where he wasn’t so excruiatingly close. Hands felt for the solid wood, for silent support as his mind reeled.
After an unknown period of time where he'd grown young and soft again, Steve willed himself to open his eyes again. Tessa lay still, not speaking his name again. More than friends, less than lovers. That was how their destinies were entwined, always bound by the honour to old ghosts and rules of the society.
Steve would always be a friend. A friend in love, yes, but only that. Neither he nor Tessa would ever take the step further, beyond partners, beyond friends. But Steve could live with that. As long as he was near her. As long as she was in his life somehow, he could live with it.
Drawing his gaze away from the perfect face, deep in sleep, Steve went back into the living room, putting on his shoes. The deadlock clicked as he left.