[100_tales] My Heart To Bleed
Title: My Heart To Bleed
Author: defy_n_gravity
Prompt: 100_tales: 82. Nature
Characters: Fiona Glenanne/Eliot Spencer
Rating: M
Words: 1,327
Disclaimer: No claim on Burn Notice or Leverage or any of their characters. Only using them for fun.
Warning: Spoilers for Burn Notice 512: Dead to Rights.
Author's Notes: Part of the Runaway Train series I started with them and haven't written in forever. At this point consider their canons as being lined up.
Summary: His hand was always so much larger against hers, and it was heavy and harmful, but she never saw that.
The call came late, but it made no difference to Eliot who wasn't asleep anyway. He saw her name on his caller ID, and his lips curled up just a bit in a reaction only she could create. He set down the piece of clay he was playing around with to put the phone to his ear.
(Why clay? Why not? He had decided it might be an interesting new way to keep his hands busy in those moments where he finally stopped and had time to himself.)
“Hey,” was all he said.
Her words came out soft, and weak in a way he had never before heard her. “I need to see you.”
His face fell immediately and his eyes hardened. “What happened?”
“I can't-” Her words stopped short, and he could see the stress lines that would crop up around her lips whenever she worried too much. He had known her for a long time, plenty of time to study her, and he saw her entire face when she spoke. It hurt, and he hated it. “Can you come down?”
“Yeah. When?”
“As soon as possible.”
“Okay.” He paused, then spoke again before she could hang up. It wasn't exactly common for them to actually say goodbye in their calls. “It's Michael, isn't it?” It was always Michael, even when it wasn't.
“He's fine.”
Eliot had come to warm up to Michael a bit more than in the past, but not by much. He closed his eyes and listened to her breathing for a moment. It was anything but regular. “Fi.” He was crazy about her. He cared about her. He wanted to fix everything right in that moment. He left it all open and let her hear those things in his tone.
“I know,” she murmured, and then the call was disconnected.
***
He was beside her on the couch, sitting up and angled towards her a bit. Her legs were crossed, one knee pulled near to her chest, the other falling over the edge of the couch while she faced him. His hand was out and open in two of hers. One cradled it and the other traced the lines and edges of his hand. Her head was tipped in thought, and she was quiet.
She was marveling. His hand was always so much larger against hers, and it was heavy and harmful, but she never saw that. She saw a gentle, beautiful hand that knew how to deceive everyone else.
She liked that hand. She liked it a lot. She brought it up against her cheek and she closed her eyes when it curled against her skin. Her face started to break at that and she leaned into the touch. It was so good and warm and she had been craving it for a long time. She had already been missing him as it was, and everything that had transpired in the last forty-eight hours only made that ache worse.
She knew that he knew what she was feeling, and she knew she didn't have to verbalize it. She didn't want to. She had already gone through the entire guilt talk with Michael, and she didn't want to do it again. She was tired, and she was angry, and she wanted Anson out of their lives. She was scared, and worried, while also relieved that Larry was finally gone. She was a million thoughts and emotions at once. She just wanted the calm that they all thought they were finally going to have.
Eliot's thumb brushed her cheek and her eyes opened to him.
“It's not your fault,” he said gently. She opened her mouth to shut him up, but he shook his head. “It's not. It's this Anson guy. He played you. You...couldn't have known.”
“He knew my nature, and he used it against me.” It came out shakier than she would have liked, and her eyes closed again.
“Hey, look at me.” She did as she was told and looked up at him. He stared down at her, his hand still against her face, and his eyes didn't blink from hers for a moment. “Things happen. Things we can't control. And it's something we hafta learn to live with. It doesn't make us, and it doesn't break us unless we let it.”
She gazed up at him, letting his words sink in, and then her hand reached up for his face. Her fingertips brushed the bristle there, and she felt the soft brush of his hair on the back of her hand. She closed her eyes once more, but that time it was so she could lean up and kiss him gently. “I want to take Anson down,” she whispered against his lips when they broke apart.
“I can help. We can help.” He pulled back even more to look at her. “I'll call Nate and-”
“No. I didn't...call you here to rope you into this. This is our problem and you don't have-”
“Since when do I sit back?”
“You and your team have been through a lot lately, and...being this close to everything, to the government that isn't too fond of any of you...it's risky. And it's stupid.”
“Then I'll help out by myself. Leave them out of it.”
“No,” her head shook and she started to pull away. “No, Eliot.”
He growled slightly and yanked her back down, glaring at her. “Quit pushin' me away every time he gets into trouble. Him gettin' into trouble puts you in trouble, and I'm never gonna sit back and let that happen.”
She didn't want this. She didn't want to argue or go back to an age old fight, but she never could back down easily, especially not from him. She yanked away, but stayed on the couch as she snapped back. “Me? You're talking to me about pushing you away?”
“Yeah, cause this is your thing this time, not mine.”
“So you can shove me away and tell me it's about keeping me safe, but when I try-” She tried to argue right back, but he wouldn't even let her. He never seemed to.
“I don't want you dead! And I don't want some sadistic bastard pulling your strings!” His hand had curled tightly around her arm.
She gave his shoulder a hard shove back into the couch. “I can take care of myself.”
“You could try lettin' someone take care of you for once,” he countered, the glare still in his eyes.
She matched it. “Same could go for you.”
And before she could think of what to expect, or even wait a second for his retort, his hand was on her neck and he was kissing her, hard. She moaned into it and kissed him back, immediately pushing herself up into his lap. That was what she wanted, it was what she needed, and her anger with him only fueled it more.
Clothes came off fast and rough and were soon littered to the floor. They were fast and rough, both wanting to take the control, both wanting to prove their point to the other. A point that got lost quickly in all of the heat and the skin and the soaring.
But then it slowed. Somewhere in the middle they found their common ground, their place, and it slowed into gentle and calm. She met his eyes, and she let him see everything that was churning through her, and he took it.
She settled against him, her head to his chest, and his arms went around her tightly. She closed her eyes to listen to the sound of his heartbeat, and waited for her breath to catch up with her.
“Fi..” He started slowly after awhile.
“I know,” she whispered.
Author: defy_n_gravity
Prompt: 100_tales: 82. Nature
Characters: Fiona Glenanne/Eliot Spencer
Rating: M
Words: 1,327
Disclaimer: No claim on Burn Notice or Leverage or any of their characters. Only using them for fun.
Warning: Spoilers for Burn Notice 512: Dead to Rights.
Author's Notes: Part of the Runaway Train series I started with them and haven't written in forever. At this point consider their canons as being lined up.
Summary: His hand was always so much larger against hers, and it was heavy and harmful, but she never saw that.
The call came late, but it made no difference to Eliot who wasn't asleep anyway. He saw her name on his caller ID, and his lips curled up just a bit in a reaction only she could create. He set down the piece of clay he was playing around with to put the phone to his ear.
(Why clay? Why not? He had decided it might be an interesting new way to keep his hands busy in those moments where he finally stopped and had time to himself.)
“Hey,” was all he said.
Her words came out soft, and weak in a way he had never before heard her. “I need to see you.”
His face fell immediately and his eyes hardened. “What happened?”
“I can't-” Her words stopped short, and he could see the stress lines that would crop up around her lips whenever she worried too much. He had known her for a long time, plenty of time to study her, and he saw her entire face when she spoke. It hurt, and he hated it. “Can you come down?”
“Yeah. When?”
“As soon as possible.”
“Okay.” He paused, then spoke again before she could hang up. It wasn't exactly common for them to actually say goodbye in their calls. “It's Michael, isn't it?” It was always Michael, even when it wasn't.
“He's fine.”
Eliot had come to warm up to Michael a bit more than in the past, but not by much. He closed his eyes and listened to her breathing for a moment. It was anything but regular. “Fi.” He was crazy about her. He cared about her. He wanted to fix everything right in that moment. He left it all open and let her hear those things in his tone.
“I know,” she murmured, and then the call was disconnected.
***
He was beside her on the couch, sitting up and angled towards her a bit. Her legs were crossed, one knee pulled near to her chest, the other falling over the edge of the couch while she faced him. His hand was out and open in two of hers. One cradled it and the other traced the lines and edges of his hand. Her head was tipped in thought, and she was quiet.
She was marveling. His hand was always so much larger against hers, and it was heavy and harmful, but she never saw that. She saw a gentle, beautiful hand that knew how to deceive everyone else.
She liked that hand. She liked it a lot. She brought it up against her cheek and she closed her eyes when it curled against her skin. Her face started to break at that and she leaned into the touch. It was so good and warm and she had been craving it for a long time. She had already been missing him as it was, and everything that had transpired in the last forty-eight hours only made that ache worse.
She knew that he knew what she was feeling, and she knew she didn't have to verbalize it. She didn't want to. She had already gone through the entire guilt talk with Michael, and she didn't want to do it again. She was tired, and she was angry, and she wanted Anson out of their lives. She was scared, and worried, while also relieved that Larry was finally gone. She was a million thoughts and emotions at once. She just wanted the calm that they all thought they were finally going to have.
Eliot's thumb brushed her cheek and her eyes opened to him.
“It's not your fault,” he said gently. She opened her mouth to shut him up, but he shook his head. “It's not. It's this Anson guy. He played you. You...couldn't have known.”
“He knew my nature, and he used it against me.” It came out shakier than she would have liked, and her eyes closed again.
“Hey, look at me.” She did as she was told and looked up at him. He stared down at her, his hand still against her face, and his eyes didn't blink from hers for a moment. “Things happen. Things we can't control. And it's something we hafta learn to live with. It doesn't make us, and it doesn't break us unless we let it.”
She gazed up at him, letting his words sink in, and then her hand reached up for his face. Her fingertips brushed the bristle there, and she felt the soft brush of his hair on the back of her hand. She closed her eyes once more, but that time it was so she could lean up and kiss him gently. “I want to take Anson down,” she whispered against his lips when they broke apart.
“I can help. We can help.” He pulled back even more to look at her. “I'll call Nate and-”
“No. I didn't...call you here to rope you into this. This is our problem and you don't have-”
“Since when do I sit back?”
“You and your team have been through a lot lately, and...being this close to everything, to the government that isn't too fond of any of you...it's risky. And it's stupid.”
“Then I'll help out by myself. Leave them out of it.”
“No,” her head shook and she started to pull away. “No, Eliot.”
He growled slightly and yanked her back down, glaring at her. “Quit pushin' me away every time he gets into trouble. Him gettin' into trouble puts you in trouble, and I'm never gonna sit back and let that happen.”
She didn't want this. She didn't want to argue or go back to an age old fight, but she never could back down easily, especially not from him. She yanked away, but stayed on the couch as she snapped back. “Me? You're talking to me about pushing you away?”
“Yeah, cause this is your thing this time, not mine.”
“So you can shove me away and tell me it's about keeping me safe, but when I try-” She tried to argue right back, but he wouldn't even let her. He never seemed to.
“I don't want you dead! And I don't want some sadistic bastard pulling your strings!” His hand had curled tightly around her arm.
She gave his shoulder a hard shove back into the couch. “I can take care of myself.”
“You could try lettin' someone take care of you for once,” he countered, the glare still in his eyes.
She matched it. “Same could go for you.”
And before she could think of what to expect, or even wait a second for his retort, his hand was on her neck and he was kissing her, hard. She moaned into it and kissed him back, immediately pushing herself up into his lap. That was what she wanted, it was what she needed, and her anger with him only fueled it more.
Clothes came off fast and rough and were soon littered to the floor. They were fast and rough, both wanting to take the control, both wanting to prove their point to the other. A point that got lost quickly in all of the heat and the skin and the soaring.
But then it slowed. Somewhere in the middle they found their common ground, their place, and it slowed into gentle and calm. She met his eyes, and she let him see everything that was churning through her, and he took it.
She settled against him, her head to his chest, and his arms went around her tightly. She closed her eyes to listen to the sound of his heartbeat, and waited for her breath to catch up with her.
“Fi..” He started slowly after awhile.
“I know,” she whispered.