Ficlet: Fred/Gunn PG
Ficlet present for inlovewithnight. Gunn/Fred. Set after Home.
"No, really, did they?"
Gunn rolls his eyes, starts to reach out to tweak a lock of Fred's hair but falters. They both shift uncomfortably in the diner booth and Fred leans back, away from Gunn, and he drops his hand awkwardly, clears his throat.
"They didn't make me taller," he tells her again. The waitress comes by with a pot of coffee and Fred and Gunn both nod for more, then watch carefully as it's poured for them. When the waitress leaves, enough time has passed for them to be able to pretend the awkward moment didn't happen.
They've been here since Angel took off. It was Fred's idea and Gunn's still not sure why she suggested they get some food, why she looked only at him when she did so.
"Charles." Fred looks down, stirs her coffee and Gunn waits to hear what else she has to say. It's a long time coming. "I just--I don't like where we are. With each other. Or how we are. With each other."
Gunn rubs a hand down his face and slumps back. "Yeah. Me neither." Fred looks up, gives him a quick, uncertain smile, and Gunn takes a deep breath. "I still love you. I mean, I know, right? I know we can't, that it's over. But--I look at you, and you're still my girl. Just not the same way."
"Oh, Charles," Fred says faintly and reaches across the table, one small delicate hand gripping his tightly. "I miss you, in a lot of ways. But I miss this the most. Just being able to sit with each other and talk. We haven't been able to do that in a while without it being strained and weird."
"Yeah."
They hold hands and forget about their coffee and Gunn feels like each passing second is stripping away the wrongness that's been between them since the Professor's death. Since before then, really, even if neither of them realized it at the time because of all that was going on.
"We aren't stuck in this place we're at now, are we?" Fred asks hesitantly, fingers tightening around Gunn's.
"No," he says with a smile, and it comes easier, feels more natural, than anything to do with Fred has in months. "Don't think we are. It's just a matter of getting past the weird stage."
Fred thinks about it, chews on her lip for a bit, then nods and smiles back at him. "Pie would help, I think."
"Apple?"
She nods and lets go of his hand with a last squeeze. "With ice cream," she says with that combination of perkiness, dorkiness and dreaminess that's hers alone, and Gunn knows for sure, then, that everything will settle just fine, and he laughs a little, and she laughs along with him.
.End
"No, really, did they?"
Gunn rolls his eyes, starts to reach out to tweak a lock of Fred's hair but falters. They both shift uncomfortably in the diner booth and Fred leans back, away from Gunn, and he drops his hand awkwardly, clears his throat.
"They didn't make me taller," he tells her again. The waitress comes by with a pot of coffee and Fred and Gunn both nod for more, then watch carefully as it's poured for them. When the waitress leaves, enough time has passed for them to be able to pretend the awkward moment didn't happen.
They've been here since Angel took off. It was Fred's idea and Gunn's still not sure why she suggested they get some food, why she looked only at him when she did so.
"Charles." Fred looks down, stirs her coffee and Gunn waits to hear what else she has to say. It's a long time coming. "I just--I don't like where we are. With each other. Or how we are. With each other."
Gunn rubs a hand down his face and slumps back. "Yeah. Me neither." Fred looks up, gives him a quick, uncertain smile, and Gunn takes a deep breath. "I still love you. I mean, I know, right? I know we can't, that it's over. But--I look at you, and you're still my girl. Just not the same way."
"Oh, Charles," Fred says faintly and reaches across the table, one small delicate hand gripping his tightly. "I miss you, in a lot of ways. But I miss this the most. Just being able to sit with each other and talk. We haven't been able to do that in a while without it being strained and weird."
"Yeah."
They hold hands and forget about their coffee and Gunn feels like each passing second is stripping away the wrongness that's been between them since the Professor's death. Since before then, really, even if neither of them realized it at the time because of all that was going on.
"We aren't stuck in this place we're at now, are we?" Fred asks hesitantly, fingers tightening around Gunn's.
"No," he says with a smile, and it comes easier, feels more natural, than anything to do with Fred has in months. "Don't think we are. It's just a matter of getting past the weird stage."
Fred thinks about it, chews on her lip for a bit, then nods and smiles back at him. "Pie would help, I think."
"Apple?"
She nods and lets go of his hand with a last squeeze. "With ice cream," she says with that combination of perkiness, dorkiness and dreaminess that's hers alone, and Gunn knows for sure, then, that everything will settle just fine, and he laughs a little, and she laughs along with him.
.End