Fic: I'll be the one (1/7)
Title: I'll be the one
Fandom: Murder Call
Characters: Tessa Vance, Steve Hayden
Prompt: 007. Days
Word Count: 1005
Rating: G (K)
Summary: Distance was good. Distance would keep him from doing something stupid, like he'd done with Suzanne Delacourt last year. But as he watched Tessa reach up self-consciously to touch the scarf she’d arranged carefully around her neck, however, he knew it was too late. [A series of ficlets set after "Aftermath". Based on the Deadline/Suspect novel by Jennifer Rowe.]
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters. They belong to Jennifer Rowe, Hal McElroy and Southern Star. I make no profit out of this.
I'LL BE THE ONE
PART ONE
Set day after "Aftermath"
Steve Hayden knew the things people said about him through the grapevine. However, he’d learned a long time ago that you couldn’t stop people from talking, so better to just stop yourself from caring. Most of the time, he was able to do that. After all, the only thing that mattered was your work and his record spoke for itself. No one could complain about that.
For the past week, though, he’d been worried “no one” would turn to “everyone”. To say the least, his new partner was a far cry from Barney, or any other geezer at Central Homicide for that matter. The way her mind seemed to take flight and speed off somewhere no one else could follow… After all his years on the force, Steve had learned how that could spell ‘danger’. He’d told himself she wouldn’t last long like that. In a way, he’d be right. Twice in less than a week, she’d walked straight into a disaster all on her lonesome.
Maybe that was what had annoyed him most of all. How she’d breezed in like any other rookie, assumed a lot of space and loyalty from her colleagues, and given none back. Instead, she’d insisted on dealing with things on her own. She’d seemed so incredibly arrogant, so…superior.
Well, now he knew better.
Glancing at the woman huddled over her computer, Steve’s week-long annoyance was non-existent and instead replaced with hesitation. When she’d first walked out of her apartment building this morning, he’d wanted to tell her she didn’t have to come in, especially after the ordeals she’d had yesterday with Mumm and at the amusement park, but one look at her eyes had stopped the words in his mouth.
Maybe yesterday’s events had coloured him, but Steve swore he’d seen the second and third layers of Tessa’s personality that his prejudice had previously shielded from him: it hadn’t been superiority or arrogance that’d brought her to the station today, but her own vulnerability and sense of duty. She looked like she needed some measure of control, a feeling Steve knew only too well.
In this line of work that they’d chosen, they never knew what could happen or what they’d encounter. Facing the worst examples of humanity’s brutality, they had to survive somehow. They had to stay on top of things as best as they could, and giving in to their vulnerabilities was a sure way to lose that precious control.
Still, by baring her vulnerabilities to him - practically a stranger and someone who’d be working with her for who knew how long - Steve felt somewhat reassured. Maybe because he’d seen that she was as human as him; just as vulnerable; not some ambitious rookie too wrapped up in herself to consider those around her.
The only problem with that, however, was that he no longer saw her as simply his co-worker. She’d gained three dimensions and with that followed an entirely different range of issues, one of which Steve was decidedly struggling with now:
How to un-see a beautiful woman crying as she bravely tried to re-arrange her ruffled and bloodied clothes before returning to the apartment she’d nearly died in only hours ago. How to deal with the fact that he’d invited said woman back to his place for the night, and felt oddly disappointed when she’d turned his offer down.
Exhaling heavily, Steve reached up to rub his eyes.
“You okay?” Tessa’s voice was gentle. Concerned, even. Steve wanted to laugh. He was supposed to ask that question, not the other way around.
“Yeah.” Meeting those beautiful eyes that were sure to haunt him from now on, Steve gestured to his computer. “Just sick of typing reports.”
“Oh. Yeah.” Tessa offered a small smile. “Can get a bit tedious.”
God, that smile…
Withdrawing his eyes abruptly, Steve cleared his throat and pushed back his chair to get to his feet. “Think I’ll make a run for some coffee.” He picked up his suit jacket hanging off the back of the chair and pulled it on, then paused and glanced at Tessa again, who’d withdrawn her eyes too in a decidedly dejected fashion. “You want anything? Latte?”
She hesitated, maybe out of some kind of awkwardness from being treating more kindly in the space of five seconds than in the past week in total. It was an action that set off another uncomfortable lurch in Steve’s stomach much like her smile had done, intensifying his current urge to run.
Definitely not superior or arrogant.
“Sure, thanks.” Tessa’s smile lost some of its strain and her shoulders relaxed visibly, emphasising once more how beautiful she was; and how wrong that thought was. “I’ll buy the next one.”
“I’ll hold you to it,” Steve said with a half-smile. It was all he managed right now; he could feel his inner turmoil threaten to break his professional façade and he wasn’t confident enough to let a week-long partner, let alone a beautiful woman, witness it.
So he ran. Slowly, with measured strides, but nevertheless a run.
And once he reached the elevator, Steve looked back to reassure himself that distance was good. Distance would keep him from doing something stupid, like getting too emotionally involved or carried away by a beautiful, vulnerable face.
Like he'd been with Suzanne Delacourt last year.
As he watched Tessa reach up self-consciously to touch the scarf she’d arranged carefully around her neck, however, he knew it was too late.
Tessa Vance was no longer a one-dimensional partner and co-worker. In mere days, she’d transformed into a fleshed out, three-dimensional, brilliant detective that underneath all that was also very much a smart, vulnerable and beautiful young woman.
If he’d met her at a social gathering, he wouldn’t have hesitated to make her acquaintance. As it was, he was stiffening in all the wrong places - back, shoulders, arms and neck - and Steve knew he’d have to close himself off if he was going to survive.
He just had no idea it’d be so damn difficult.
PART TWO.
Fandom: Murder Call
Characters: Tessa Vance, Steve Hayden
Prompt: 007. Days
Word Count: 1005
Rating: G (K)
Summary: Distance was good. Distance would keep him from doing something stupid, like he'd done with Suzanne Delacourt last year. But as he watched Tessa reach up self-consciously to touch the scarf she’d arranged carefully around her neck, however, he knew it was too late. [A series of ficlets set after "Aftermath". Based on the Deadline/Suspect novel by Jennifer Rowe.]
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters. They belong to Jennifer Rowe, Hal McElroy and Southern Star. I make no profit out of this.
I'LL BE THE ONE
PART ONE
Set day after "Aftermath"
Steve Hayden knew the things people said about him through the grapevine. However, he’d learned a long time ago that you couldn’t stop people from talking, so better to just stop yourself from caring. Most of the time, he was able to do that. After all, the only thing that mattered was your work and his record spoke for itself. No one could complain about that.
For the past week, though, he’d been worried “no one” would turn to “everyone”. To say the least, his new partner was a far cry from Barney, or any other geezer at Central Homicide for that matter. The way her mind seemed to take flight and speed off somewhere no one else could follow… After all his years on the force, Steve had learned how that could spell ‘danger’. He’d told himself she wouldn’t last long like that. In a way, he’d be right. Twice in less than a week, she’d walked straight into a disaster all on her lonesome.
Maybe that was what had annoyed him most of all. How she’d breezed in like any other rookie, assumed a lot of space and loyalty from her colleagues, and given none back. Instead, she’d insisted on dealing with things on her own. She’d seemed so incredibly arrogant, so…superior.
Well, now he knew better.
Glancing at the woman huddled over her computer, Steve’s week-long annoyance was non-existent and instead replaced with hesitation. When she’d first walked out of her apartment building this morning, he’d wanted to tell her she didn’t have to come in, especially after the ordeals she’d had yesterday with Mumm and at the amusement park, but one look at her eyes had stopped the words in his mouth.
Maybe yesterday’s events had coloured him, but Steve swore he’d seen the second and third layers of Tessa’s personality that his prejudice had previously shielded from him: it hadn’t been superiority or arrogance that’d brought her to the station today, but her own vulnerability and sense of duty. She looked like she needed some measure of control, a feeling Steve knew only too well.
In this line of work that they’d chosen, they never knew what could happen or what they’d encounter. Facing the worst examples of humanity’s brutality, they had to survive somehow. They had to stay on top of things as best as they could, and giving in to their vulnerabilities was a sure way to lose that precious control.
Still, by baring her vulnerabilities to him - practically a stranger and someone who’d be working with her for who knew how long - Steve felt somewhat reassured. Maybe because he’d seen that she was as human as him; just as vulnerable; not some ambitious rookie too wrapped up in herself to consider those around her.
The only problem with that, however, was that he no longer saw her as simply his co-worker. She’d gained three dimensions and with that followed an entirely different range of issues, one of which Steve was decidedly struggling with now:
How to un-see a beautiful woman crying as she bravely tried to re-arrange her ruffled and bloodied clothes before returning to the apartment she’d nearly died in only hours ago. How to deal with the fact that he’d invited said woman back to his place for the night, and felt oddly disappointed when she’d turned his offer down.
Exhaling heavily, Steve reached up to rub his eyes.
“You okay?” Tessa’s voice was gentle. Concerned, even. Steve wanted to laugh. He was supposed to ask that question, not the other way around.
“Yeah.” Meeting those beautiful eyes that were sure to haunt him from now on, Steve gestured to his computer. “Just sick of typing reports.”
“Oh. Yeah.” Tessa offered a small smile. “Can get a bit tedious.”
God, that smile…
Withdrawing his eyes abruptly, Steve cleared his throat and pushed back his chair to get to his feet. “Think I’ll make a run for some coffee.” He picked up his suit jacket hanging off the back of the chair and pulled it on, then paused and glanced at Tessa again, who’d withdrawn her eyes too in a decidedly dejected fashion. “You want anything? Latte?”
She hesitated, maybe out of some kind of awkwardness from being treating more kindly in the space of five seconds than in the past week in total. It was an action that set off another uncomfortable lurch in Steve’s stomach much like her smile had done, intensifying his current urge to run.
Definitely not superior or arrogant.
“Sure, thanks.” Tessa’s smile lost some of its strain and her shoulders relaxed visibly, emphasising once more how beautiful she was; and how wrong that thought was. “I’ll buy the next one.”
“I’ll hold you to it,” Steve said with a half-smile. It was all he managed right now; he could feel his inner turmoil threaten to break his professional façade and he wasn’t confident enough to let a week-long partner, let alone a beautiful woman, witness it.
So he ran. Slowly, with measured strides, but nevertheless a run.
And once he reached the elevator, Steve looked back to reassure himself that distance was good. Distance would keep him from doing something stupid, like getting too emotionally involved or carried away by a beautiful, vulnerable face.
Like he'd been with Suzanne Delacourt last year.
As he watched Tessa reach up self-consciously to touch the scarf she’d arranged carefully around her neck, however, he knew it was too late.
Tessa Vance was no longer a one-dimensional partner and co-worker. In mere days, she’d transformed into a fleshed out, three-dimensional, brilliant detective that underneath all that was also very much a smart, vulnerable and beautiful young woman.
If he’d met her at a social gathering, he wouldn’t have hesitated to make her acquaintance. As it was, he was stiffening in all the wrong places - back, shoulders, arms and neck - and Steve knew he’d have to close himself off if he was going to survive.
He just had no idea it’d be so damn difficult.
PART TWO.