Fic: Very Bad Timing
Fic: Very Bad Timing
Author: helsinkibaby
Fandom: Sleepy Hollow
Pairing: Frank Irving/Jenny Mills
Rating: g
spoilers : post ep for "Vessel"
Word Count: 1306
Summary: When Macey and Cynthia are sleeping, Frank gets some air and finds Jenny waiting for him.
Frank stood at the bedroom door, watching Macey and Cynthia sleeping. Macey's head was on her mother's shoulder, Cynthia's arms wrapped tightly around her as if she never wanted to let her go. Knowing his ex-wife as he did, Frank didn't doubt that that was the truth - he felt exactly the same.
Sighing, he stepped away from the door, closing it over but not completely, letting a generous sliver of light from the hallway shine into the room. He considered trying to sleep himself before rejecting the idea completely - his busy mind would never allow that. Alcohol, in any form, was also tempting but he rejected that idea too - who knew when he'd be needed during the night, and besides, he knew he was going to need a clear head for tomorrow.
Deciding fresh air might be a good idea he opened his front door, stepped out onto the porch and leaned his fists on the railing, taking several deep breaths.
He'd heard somewhere that was supposed to calm you down.
It did a little, but not nearly enough.
"How is she?"
Years of training and hours of worry had him pivoting, hand going to his hip for a gun locked away in the gun safe, before he registered who the voice belonged to. When he realised that it was Jenny standing in front of him, hands held up as if in surrender, he relaxed, shook his head.
"Sorry," he said. "A little jumpy tonight."
Jenny nodded. "Understandable." She took a couple of steps towards him, stopping on the other side of the open door. Tilting her head towards the house, she repeated her question. "How is she?"
"Sleeping." The word had her nodding. "Cynthia's with her..." He rubbed a hand over his face, words spilling from his lips that he was powerless to stop. "I don't know what I'm going to tell her. Two people are dead, one's a priest, one's a cop... I don't know how I'm going to explain that either."
If Jenny found anything strange about a police captain baring his soul to an ex-con, her demeanour didn't suggest it. Frank didn't either, something in the back of his head realising that the only strange thing about it was that it didn't feel strange at all.
He didn't know what to make of that.
"But that's not what's really worrying you." Jenny's usual flinty stare was still there, but softer, as was her tone. "You're worried about Macey."
Just like that, an image of his baby girl, faced contorted beyond recognition, snapping the priest's neck danced across Frank's vision, turning his stomach. He closed his eyes against it, only knowing that Jenny was moving by the slight creak of the porch. When he opened his eyes, she was standing facing him, one hand resting on the railing near his. "She won't remember anything," she told him and he'd never wanted to believe anything more in his life.
"With me... it was pockets of lost time. I'd suddenly look around me and not know where I was, how I got there... but I couldn't remember anything. Even at the end... when it was really bad... nothing." Her lips twisted. "Seeing that video..." A shudder ran the length of her body. "It was like looking at somebody else."
She was telling the truth; Frank could see that after years of chasing and catching liars. He nodded, feeling as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. "Thank you."
"She's a strong kid," Jenny told him. "She's going to be fine."
Frank shook his head, knowing she'd misunderstood him. "Not for this. For before." He'd said this to Abbie already but Jenny needed to hear it too. "For what you and your sister did today. I can never thank you enough..."
Jenny waved a hand, shifted on her feet and looked almost uncomfortable. "We didn't have anyone... then. No-one to look out for us." She shrugged. "I'm glad Macey didn't have to go through that."
She looked at him then, met his gaze, strong and steady. They stayed like that for a long moment, just staring at one another, the air that had been so refreshing to Frank only moments ago suddenly seeming heavy, charged with something he couldn't quite understand.
Then Jenny looked down, breaking their gaze and he understood it very well.
"I should go..." she began but when she made to leave, his hand reached out, seemingly of its own volition and closed around her wrist. She froze, looked down at his hand and he could feel her pulse against his fingers. It was a light grip, one she could have easily broken but when she looked back at him, he knew she didn't want that any more than he did.
He slid his grip down slowly, so that his fingers closed over her clenched fist. At the same time his other hand cupped her cheek gently, thumb tracing a path up and down before he moved his hand further so that it was cupping the back of her head, fingers tangling in her hair. His movements were slow, deliberate, and he couldn't tell if it was because he wasn't sure about what he was doing or if he was giving her a chance to tell him to stop.
Maybe it was both.
But she didn't tell him to stop.
So he didn't.
Bringing his lips to hers, he kissed her. Gentle and tender, slow and sweet, he moved his lips over hers, smiling inwardly as her hands landed on his chest, moved up and around to the back of his neck. She made a breathy little sigh, the kind he would never have believed she could make, the kind he instantly knew he wanted to hear her make again and again. The kind he wanted to make her make again and again.
He kissed her until the need for air became overpowering and he had to move back, had to rest his forehead against hers and gulp in greedy breaths. Her hands came back to his chest, playing with the buttons of his shirt and she smiled up at him, the same smile he'd seen in the police station at Thanksgiving.
He could get used to that smile.
Except thinking of Thanksgiving made him think of Cynthia interrupting them, made him think of Macey, made him think, period. And that made him look down, made him sigh.
"Is this where you give me the very bad timing speech?"
He blinked at Jenny's words. He'd expected her to be hurt, to be angry - he hadn't expected her to be amused. Certainly not when he hadn't said a word.
"This is very bad timing," he pointed out.
She only shrugged. "I'm starting to think there's never any good timing," she told him, stepping towards him and sliding her palms up his chest to rest on his shoulders. "Frank... you've been through a lot today. And tomorrow, there's a shitstorm just waiting at the station for you." A tiny smile crossed her lips. "Tonight... we have this."
"What about tomorrow?" Because he'd always been a planner, always been the one to take care of everything, of everyone. "Jenny, I don't want..."
She didn't let him finish, stood up on tiptoe and brushed her lips over his. "I'm a big girl, Frank," she whispered. "We're here... now. Why can't that be enough?"
"Because you deserve more." The words surprised him, shocked her if the flare of her eyes was anything to go by. She recovered quickly, pulling him closer to her, bringing her lips to his again.
Closing her eyes, Frank let him lose himself in her, knowing this with Cynthia and Macey inside, this would be all that they would have tonight.
But they would have tonight.
Tomorrow could take care of itself.
Author: helsinkibaby
Fandom: Sleepy Hollow
Pairing: Frank Irving/Jenny Mills
Rating: g
spoilers : post ep for "Vessel"
Word Count: 1306
Summary: When Macey and Cynthia are sleeping, Frank gets some air and finds Jenny waiting for him.
Frank stood at the bedroom door, watching Macey and Cynthia sleeping. Macey's head was on her mother's shoulder, Cynthia's arms wrapped tightly around her as if she never wanted to let her go. Knowing his ex-wife as he did, Frank didn't doubt that that was the truth - he felt exactly the same.
Sighing, he stepped away from the door, closing it over but not completely, letting a generous sliver of light from the hallway shine into the room. He considered trying to sleep himself before rejecting the idea completely - his busy mind would never allow that. Alcohol, in any form, was also tempting but he rejected that idea too - who knew when he'd be needed during the night, and besides, he knew he was going to need a clear head for tomorrow.
Deciding fresh air might be a good idea he opened his front door, stepped out onto the porch and leaned his fists on the railing, taking several deep breaths.
He'd heard somewhere that was supposed to calm you down.
It did a little, but not nearly enough.
"How is she?"
Years of training and hours of worry had him pivoting, hand going to his hip for a gun locked away in the gun safe, before he registered who the voice belonged to. When he realised that it was Jenny standing in front of him, hands held up as if in surrender, he relaxed, shook his head.
"Sorry," he said. "A little jumpy tonight."
Jenny nodded. "Understandable." She took a couple of steps towards him, stopping on the other side of the open door. Tilting her head towards the house, she repeated her question. "How is she?"
"Sleeping." The word had her nodding. "Cynthia's with her..." He rubbed a hand over his face, words spilling from his lips that he was powerless to stop. "I don't know what I'm going to tell her. Two people are dead, one's a priest, one's a cop... I don't know how I'm going to explain that either."
If Jenny found anything strange about a police captain baring his soul to an ex-con, her demeanour didn't suggest it. Frank didn't either, something in the back of his head realising that the only strange thing about it was that it didn't feel strange at all.
He didn't know what to make of that.
"But that's not what's really worrying you." Jenny's usual flinty stare was still there, but softer, as was her tone. "You're worried about Macey."
Just like that, an image of his baby girl, faced contorted beyond recognition, snapping the priest's neck danced across Frank's vision, turning his stomach. He closed his eyes against it, only knowing that Jenny was moving by the slight creak of the porch. When he opened his eyes, she was standing facing him, one hand resting on the railing near his. "She won't remember anything," she told him and he'd never wanted to believe anything more in his life.
"With me... it was pockets of lost time. I'd suddenly look around me and not know where I was, how I got there... but I couldn't remember anything. Even at the end... when it was really bad... nothing." Her lips twisted. "Seeing that video..." A shudder ran the length of her body. "It was like looking at somebody else."
She was telling the truth; Frank could see that after years of chasing and catching liars. He nodded, feeling as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. "Thank you."
"She's a strong kid," Jenny told him. "She's going to be fine."
Frank shook his head, knowing she'd misunderstood him. "Not for this. For before." He'd said this to Abbie already but Jenny needed to hear it too. "For what you and your sister did today. I can never thank you enough..."
Jenny waved a hand, shifted on her feet and looked almost uncomfortable. "We didn't have anyone... then. No-one to look out for us." She shrugged. "I'm glad Macey didn't have to go through that."
She looked at him then, met his gaze, strong and steady. They stayed like that for a long moment, just staring at one another, the air that had been so refreshing to Frank only moments ago suddenly seeming heavy, charged with something he couldn't quite understand.
Then Jenny looked down, breaking their gaze and he understood it very well.
"I should go..." she began but when she made to leave, his hand reached out, seemingly of its own volition and closed around her wrist. She froze, looked down at his hand and he could feel her pulse against his fingers. It was a light grip, one she could have easily broken but when she looked back at him, he knew she didn't want that any more than he did.
He slid his grip down slowly, so that his fingers closed over her clenched fist. At the same time his other hand cupped her cheek gently, thumb tracing a path up and down before he moved his hand further so that it was cupping the back of her head, fingers tangling in her hair. His movements were slow, deliberate, and he couldn't tell if it was because he wasn't sure about what he was doing or if he was giving her a chance to tell him to stop.
Maybe it was both.
But she didn't tell him to stop.
So he didn't.
Bringing his lips to hers, he kissed her. Gentle and tender, slow and sweet, he moved his lips over hers, smiling inwardly as her hands landed on his chest, moved up and around to the back of his neck. She made a breathy little sigh, the kind he would never have believed she could make, the kind he instantly knew he wanted to hear her make again and again. The kind he wanted to make her make again and again.
He kissed her until the need for air became overpowering and he had to move back, had to rest his forehead against hers and gulp in greedy breaths. Her hands came back to his chest, playing with the buttons of his shirt and she smiled up at him, the same smile he'd seen in the police station at Thanksgiving.
He could get used to that smile.
Except thinking of Thanksgiving made him think of Cynthia interrupting them, made him think of Macey, made him think, period. And that made him look down, made him sigh.
"Is this where you give me the very bad timing speech?"
He blinked at Jenny's words. He'd expected her to be hurt, to be angry - he hadn't expected her to be amused. Certainly not when he hadn't said a word.
"This is very bad timing," he pointed out.
She only shrugged. "I'm starting to think there's never any good timing," she told him, stepping towards him and sliding her palms up his chest to rest on his shoulders. "Frank... you've been through a lot today. And tomorrow, there's a shitstorm just waiting at the station for you." A tiny smile crossed her lips. "Tonight... we have this."
"What about tomorrow?" Because he'd always been a planner, always been the one to take care of everything, of everyone. "Jenny, I don't want..."
She didn't let him finish, stood up on tiptoe and brushed her lips over his. "I'm a big girl, Frank," she whispered. "We're here... now. Why can't that be enough?"
"Because you deserve more." The words surprised him, shocked her if the flare of her eyes was anything to go by. She recovered quickly, pulling him closer to her, bringing her lips to his again.
Closing her eyes, Frank let him lose himself in her, knowing this with Cynthia and Macey inside, this would be all that they would have tonight.
But they would have tonight.
Tomorrow could take care of itself.