Private Practice fic: Sock Drawer of Love (Violet/Cooper)
Title: Sock Drawer of Love
Pairing: Violet/Cooper
Rating: PG-13
Words: 2738
Summary: Cooper's being strong. It's his new thing.
Notes: Set post-'Addison Finds a Shower Head'. Follows directly on from the final Cooper/Violet scene where she shows up at his door. A sequel to this story has been posted and can be found here.
"Why didn't you check on me?"
He wanted to hug her. He wanted to grab her and hold her and tell her why not - why, this time, he couldn't be there for her.
He wanted to hug her because she was Violet and that's what he did.
But no, he was being strong. It was his new thing. So instead, he just stood back and let her in.
"Are you all right?" he said carefully as he followed her into the lounge.
She thought about it, standing by the couch, but finally came up with, "Yeah. I mean, kind of. Now."
Hearing the accusation, but not really knowing what to say to it without saying everything, he just said, "Yeah."
"Yeah," she echoed, and folded in on herself, lowering to sit on the edge of the couch.
Feeling awkward, and uncertain, and at the same time kind of ridiculously hopeful because he was an idiot and that's how he always felt with her, he crossed to the couch and did the same.
There was about a foot between them.
If the Alan-curve of Emotional Upheaval had run its usual course, they would have ended up with the movies and the junk food, and Violet would have fallen asleep on his shoulder and he would have pretended to be grossed out when she drooled on his shirt. Instead she sat with her arms hugging her waist and he sat with his hands clasped between his knees and there was a foot of empty sofa cushion between them.
"You know," she spoke, "I wanted to come over and kick your ass. But it'd probably be more productive if I just say I'm sorry."
"I like that plan."
"'Cause you're right, you've been dealing with this pretty much constantly for a long time."
"Yes."
He didn't need her to tell him he was right. He knew he was right. But it was still nice to hear.
He was in no way doing a mental victory dance right now.
"And I'm sorry," Violet added.
"You said that already, but yes."
"I can't guarantee that this will be the last time, though, because we both know that it probably won't be."
He sighed. "Yeah."
"Yeah. I said sorry, right?
"Shut up."
She smiled, small but there as she looked over at him. Then her face fell again and oh, here it comes, he thought. But he didn't say anything, because she'd apologised and he'd forgiven her and that meant he got to hear about Alan and Cami's breeding schedule and then Violet was trying not to cry and he... he was hugging her.
So much for staying strong. But then, Violet wasn't the only one with a problem.
In other news, the foot-wide couch-cushion vacancy had been filled, and he was busy telling himself that noticing the way her whole leg from her hip down was pressed against his while she was upset was not that sleazy.
"I walked away, though," she said with a sniffle. "You would have been proud of me. I'm getting better at this, aren't I? Tell me I'm getting better at this."
He patted her back. "Better would be not running off to be Alan's hug-buddy every time he snaps his fingers."
She sat back away from him, and he tried not to wince. That may have been a little harsh.
"Ouch," she said. "Still a little raw? Do I need to apologise again?"
Or maybe not too harsh. Maybe the perfect level of harshness.
"See, here's the thing you still don't get - it's not just you getting dragged through the wringer every time this happens. I get hurt too. And I don't get the fun Alan-induced euphoria to kick start the process. I just get the not-fun of having to watch you torture yourself again."
"Wow, you're really just a big wuss, aren't you?"
He gave a half-laugh, looking down. "Thank you. You know, it's no wonder your patients keep coming back to you? I'm going to have to start recommending you to people. Just, random people on the street. It'd be a public service."
"You're not a patient," she protested. "I can be a bitch to you because you know that -"
"That it's a defence mechanism, and that you don't really mean to be a mean, cold-hearted b-word. And I work with children, give me a break on the b-word thing."
"Right," she drawled, as if trying to decide whether to laugh at him or not. "Such a wuss you can't even call me a bitch when I'm being one."
He cupped his hands around his mouth. "De-fen-sive."
"Yes, all right, it's a defensive gesture. I'm not like this with anyone else, you know. Just you." She paused. "So, why do I need to get so defensive with you?" She stared at him as if trying to work out a giant Cooper-shaped puzzle.
"Violet." He just looked at her. And then, "You know why."
Her expression was blank. "No I don't."
"Yes you do. Violet, come on, you do." Still with the clueless look. He sighed. "You don't, do you?"
She sat back, frowning, and maybe starting to get a little worried. "Why are you being so weird?"
"Because!" he exploded, arms thrown in the air, and he almost jumped off the couch but restrained himself because she was looking freaked out enough as it was. "Violet, god, I - you know - I - I just... Oh my god! How can you not know? You should have figured this out. You're smart. You're a lot smarter than me, and I figured it out!"
She laughed, bewildered. "What are you talking about?"
"I - love you! There. I said it. I love you. Jeez."
Not looking at her. So not looking at her. Looking at the floor. Much more interesting.
"As a friend, sure," came her voice, and his eyes snapped over to see her looking completely unperturbed. "I know that. If you want to get all mushy - I love you too."
"No," he said, eyes wide because of all the things he thought she might say, that had so not been one of them, "I mean I really love you."
"Yeah. As a friend."
He pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling the start of a Violet-induced migraine coming on. This was not going the way he had envisioned this moment. Why did his envisionings always fail so completely to come true?
"You're still being weird," she said then, almost accusingly.
"Yeah," he replied through gritted teeth, "That would be because I love you and on some le -"
"As a friend!"
"No! Not as a frie - no! Hey, crazy lady!" He gave a short, sharp whistle as she continued to protest, waving his arms at her. "Hey! Simmer down. Man, you make me nuts."
She snorted. "Look who's talking."
"Ah! Not your turn to talk now. It's Cooper's turn to talk, your turn to shut up and listen."
She opened her mouth again and he held up a finger warningly. She subsided, looking mutinous.
"Look, you - you're freaking clueless, so you obviously have no idea how hard it was for me to just say all of that. It was really hard, and it was terrifying, and you're not helping." He stopped to take a breath and went on. "And I know I'm not going to get another chance at this, so you're going to listen. And you can hit me, or run away and never talk to me again, but you're not going anywhere until you look me in the eye and understand what I'm saying. I can convert it to sign language if you would find that more helpful. I love you. I'm in love with you."
He stopped talking.
Her mouth dropped open and she just stared at him for a few tense seconds, until, "Oh my god," she said, somewhere between grossed out and amused. "Seriously?"
"And there it is."
"Cooper."
He buried his face in his hand. "Don't - don't tell me I don't know what I'm saying. I know what I'm saying."
"Look," she said, and when he risked a glance over at her she was giving him a reassuring smile.
That was when he realised scrappy, defensive Violet was suddenly gone, and calm, level-headed therapist Violet was here in her place, about to explain to him why he was so very wrong about everything.
"It happens. Close friends, who've been through a lot together... You haven't been in a relationship for a while, feelings start to get confused... It happens. So don't be embarrassed, I'm sure it'll pass in no time."
He could have happily strangled her. Just wrapped his hands around her neck and squeezed, and maybe given her a good shake while he was at it, because she was so stubborn, and thick-headed, and annoying, and perfect. And he could have forgiven the rest, it was just that last part that was causing all the trouble.
Crazy, annoying, perfect Violet.
"Black leather," he said. She blinked, and he lifted his face out of his palm. "You've got Mr Ex-President? Who, by the way, cheated on Hillary with a much younger woman, and boy do you have a type or what. The point is - besides that Hillary could do so much better and everyone knows it - I have black leather. And you. Actually, sometimes we lose the leather and it's just you." He paused for effect. "Naked."
She seemed stunned, and then she leaned in a little. "Really? Black leather?" She was intrigued - that was a good sign. Then she closed her eyes briefly, shaking her head. "No, see this just proves it. You're confusing me with your sleazy online fantasy girls. Besides, it'd be weird. I mean, wouldn't it be weird? You and me? It'd be like -"
"Don't say it. Don't even think about saying it'd be like making out with your brother. That's not even funny."
"Okay, it'd be like two desperate, lonely people with nothing better to do. Is that what you want? No chemistry, no passion, just... like two old socks rolled up together?"
"First of all, ew? And secondly, thanks for completely dismissing everything I've said the last few minutes about being desperately in love with you. And third, prove it."
"Prove what?"
"The total lack of chemistry. Come on, put your money where your mouth is, sister. Okay, forget I just called you 'sister'."
"You're not taunting me into having sex with you."
"Not sex, just - look, if it's going to fizzle, we should be able to tell right away, right?"
For a moment he had no idea what she was going to say next. Then she gestured at him.
"Okay, come on."
He didn't move. "Seriously?"
"If it'll get you to shut up about it, sure."
He stared at her, frozen, and she looked back a little wide-eyed, and then she just leaned over and kissed him, just like that, and all he could think was that he'd been thinking about this for so long and wow, her lips were really, really soft.
And then she was pulling away. "See, I -"
He followed her, capturing her lips again. Just - no way that was it. No way.
And this time, he even remembered to kiss her back.
And there was the softness again, and that was good, and then her mouth dropped open a little - possibly in surprise, but he wasn't too much of a man to take advantage of it, adding a little tongue.
This was possibly his one and only chance of ever kissing the woman he loved and there was no way he wasn't going to add a little tongue.
What was awesome was how, this time, she didn't pull away. It might have had something to do with having both his hands holding her head so she didn't do just that. But she wasn't trying to pull away, and then it got even more awesome because she threw in a little tongue of her own.
It was Violet, and it was real, and it was almost better than all the black leather in the world put together.
She sighed into his mouth then and he felt her relax a bit, shifting closer on the couch so their bodies weren't, like, held awkwardly at right-angle to each other anymore. One of her hands moved to rest on his arm and he loosened his grip on the back of her head and touched her face instead and decided that this was the best kiss ever. Really, the best.
Then she had to go and ruin it by stiffening up, the hand on his arm tightening as she pushed back. He let her go. Reluctantly, slowly, but he let her go.
And once there were inches between them, he let out a breath and opened his eyes. "Yeah. That sucked."
She was licking her lips slowly, not looking up at him, her gaze fixed somewhere around his chest.
"Maybe," she said, "maybe... sad and desperate isn't so bad?"
She laughed, and oh, he knew that laugh. It was her 'I'm trying not to freak out crying' laugh. He hated that laugh.
They were still close, still holding on to each other, and he only needed the smallest pull to draw her in against him, wrapping his arms around her. She sighed into his shoulder, breath hot through his shirt. He rested his chin on her head.
"You can call my love for you sad and desperate if you want but that's not going to make me any less inclined to jump you sometime in the very near future."
He looked down to see her shoulders shake. And after a moment's worry he realised she was snickering, not sobbing. "Cooper," she said, her voice muffled, then she lifted her head to look at him. "Come on, you're not going to jump me. You had to dare me to kiss you." She lifted her hand to his face, but unfortunately not in an 'I'm going to kiss you again' way - no, this was more of a 'pat you on the cheek and send you home' gesture. "Just how long have you been feeling like this, anyway?"
"A while," he said uncomfortably.
"And you've just been letting me torture you with all my Alan crap this whole time?"
"Kinda."
"Wuss," she muttered.
"Crazy person with big, stupid hair," he retorted.
And okay, he was getting a little desperate, apparently. But things had been going so well and now it was all falling apart, and so it was really only fair if he did too.
"The truth is, you're afraid of intimacy. Being honest with someone, it terrifies you. That's why you do your little internet playdates, because you can arrange everything by email and never have to risk anything." She shook her head. "All of which just means you don't have the stones to jump me, or you would have done it months ago."
"I don't have the stones. I don't have the stones?"
She shrugged, holding up her hands as if to say 'do I look like I'm being jumped, here?'
He did what any man would do under the circumstances, he reasoned. He grabbed her, fully intending to provide all the jumping she could handle - only to stop a hair's breadth away from planting his lips on hers when he realised she was grinning.
Grinning?
"Uh," he said, "what just happened?"
"I taunted you into having sex with me?"
"'Kay." He paused. "For the record? You never have to do that."
"Yeah, well you say that, but since we're still sitting here talking about it -"
There was very little in the way of talking from that point on, because then he was kissing her, again. And then they were doing other things for the very first time. None of which strictly called for talking.
Well, it put a stop to the complaining, anyway - it was still Violet, after all, and she never shut up. There was still a fair bit of name-calling, for instance, but actually, that worked for him. He always suspected Violet had a kinky side.
Except for when the name she called him was 'Bill', which wasn't so hot. But he was pretty sure she was joking. Really, almost completely sure. Really.
end
Pairing: Violet/Cooper
Rating: PG-13
Words: 2738
Summary: Cooper's being strong. It's his new thing.
Notes: Set post-'Addison Finds a Shower Head'. Follows directly on from the final Cooper/Violet scene where she shows up at his door. A sequel to this story has been posted and can be found here.
"Why didn't you check on me?"
He wanted to hug her. He wanted to grab her and hold her and tell her why not - why, this time, he couldn't be there for her.
He wanted to hug her because she was Violet and that's what he did.
But no, he was being strong. It was his new thing. So instead, he just stood back and let her in.
"Are you all right?" he said carefully as he followed her into the lounge.
She thought about it, standing by the couch, but finally came up with, "Yeah. I mean, kind of. Now."
Hearing the accusation, but not really knowing what to say to it without saying everything, he just said, "Yeah."
"Yeah," she echoed, and folded in on herself, lowering to sit on the edge of the couch.
Feeling awkward, and uncertain, and at the same time kind of ridiculously hopeful because he was an idiot and that's how he always felt with her, he crossed to the couch and did the same.
There was about a foot between them.
If the Alan-curve of Emotional Upheaval had run its usual course, they would have ended up with the movies and the junk food, and Violet would have fallen asleep on his shoulder and he would have pretended to be grossed out when she drooled on his shirt. Instead she sat with her arms hugging her waist and he sat with his hands clasped between his knees and there was a foot of empty sofa cushion between them.
"You know," she spoke, "I wanted to come over and kick your ass. But it'd probably be more productive if I just say I'm sorry."
"I like that plan."
"'Cause you're right, you've been dealing with this pretty much constantly for a long time."
"Yes."
He didn't need her to tell him he was right. He knew he was right. But it was still nice to hear.
He was in no way doing a mental victory dance right now.
"And I'm sorry," Violet added.
"You said that already, but yes."
"I can't guarantee that this will be the last time, though, because we both know that it probably won't be."
He sighed. "Yeah."
"Yeah. I said sorry, right?
"Shut up."
She smiled, small but there as she looked over at him. Then her face fell again and oh, here it comes, he thought. But he didn't say anything, because she'd apologised and he'd forgiven her and that meant he got to hear about Alan and Cami's breeding schedule and then Violet was trying not to cry and he... he was hugging her.
So much for staying strong. But then, Violet wasn't the only one with a problem.
In other news, the foot-wide couch-cushion vacancy had been filled, and he was busy telling himself that noticing the way her whole leg from her hip down was pressed against his while she was upset was not that sleazy.
"I walked away, though," she said with a sniffle. "You would have been proud of me. I'm getting better at this, aren't I? Tell me I'm getting better at this."
He patted her back. "Better would be not running off to be Alan's hug-buddy every time he snaps his fingers."
She sat back away from him, and he tried not to wince. That may have been a little harsh.
"Ouch," she said. "Still a little raw? Do I need to apologise again?"
Or maybe not too harsh. Maybe the perfect level of harshness.
"See, here's the thing you still don't get - it's not just you getting dragged through the wringer every time this happens. I get hurt too. And I don't get the fun Alan-induced euphoria to kick start the process. I just get the not-fun of having to watch you torture yourself again."
"Wow, you're really just a big wuss, aren't you?"
He gave a half-laugh, looking down. "Thank you. You know, it's no wonder your patients keep coming back to you? I'm going to have to start recommending you to people. Just, random people on the street. It'd be a public service."
"You're not a patient," she protested. "I can be a bitch to you because you know that -"
"That it's a defence mechanism, and that you don't really mean to be a mean, cold-hearted b-word. And I work with children, give me a break on the b-word thing."
"Right," she drawled, as if trying to decide whether to laugh at him or not. "Such a wuss you can't even call me a bitch when I'm being one."
He cupped his hands around his mouth. "De-fen-sive."
"Yes, all right, it's a defensive gesture. I'm not like this with anyone else, you know. Just you." She paused. "So, why do I need to get so defensive with you?" She stared at him as if trying to work out a giant Cooper-shaped puzzle.
"Violet." He just looked at her. And then, "You know why."
Her expression was blank. "No I don't."
"Yes you do. Violet, come on, you do." Still with the clueless look. He sighed. "You don't, do you?"
She sat back, frowning, and maybe starting to get a little worried. "Why are you being so weird?"
"Because!" he exploded, arms thrown in the air, and he almost jumped off the couch but restrained himself because she was looking freaked out enough as it was. "Violet, god, I - you know - I - I just... Oh my god! How can you not know? You should have figured this out. You're smart. You're a lot smarter than me, and I figured it out!"
She laughed, bewildered. "What are you talking about?"
"I - love you! There. I said it. I love you. Jeez."
Not looking at her. So not looking at her. Looking at the floor. Much more interesting.
"As a friend, sure," came her voice, and his eyes snapped over to see her looking completely unperturbed. "I know that. If you want to get all mushy - I love you too."
"No," he said, eyes wide because of all the things he thought she might say, that had so not been one of them, "I mean I really love you."
"Yeah. As a friend."
He pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling the start of a Violet-induced migraine coming on. This was not going the way he had envisioned this moment. Why did his envisionings always fail so completely to come true?
"You're still being weird," she said then, almost accusingly.
"Yeah," he replied through gritted teeth, "That would be because I love you and on some le -"
"As a friend!"
"No! Not as a frie - no! Hey, crazy lady!" He gave a short, sharp whistle as she continued to protest, waving his arms at her. "Hey! Simmer down. Man, you make me nuts."
She snorted. "Look who's talking."
"Ah! Not your turn to talk now. It's Cooper's turn to talk, your turn to shut up and listen."
She opened her mouth again and he held up a finger warningly. She subsided, looking mutinous.
"Look, you - you're freaking clueless, so you obviously have no idea how hard it was for me to just say all of that. It was really hard, and it was terrifying, and you're not helping." He stopped to take a breath and went on. "And I know I'm not going to get another chance at this, so you're going to listen. And you can hit me, or run away and never talk to me again, but you're not going anywhere until you look me in the eye and understand what I'm saying. I can convert it to sign language if you would find that more helpful. I love you. I'm in love with you."
He stopped talking.
Her mouth dropped open and she just stared at him for a few tense seconds, until, "Oh my god," she said, somewhere between grossed out and amused. "Seriously?"
"And there it is."
"Cooper."
He buried his face in his hand. "Don't - don't tell me I don't know what I'm saying. I know what I'm saying."
"Look," she said, and when he risked a glance over at her she was giving him a reassuring smile.
That was when he realised scrappy, defensive Violet was suddenly gone, and calm, level-headed therapist Violet was here in her place, about to explain to him why he was so very wrong about everything.
"It happens. Close friends, who've been through a lot together... You haven't been in a relationship for a while, feelings start to get confused... It happens. So don't be embarrassed, I'm sure it'll pass in no time."
He could have happily strangled her. Just wrapped his hands around her neck and squeezed, and maybe given her a good shake while he was at it, because she was so stubborn, and thick-headed, and annoying, and perfect. And he could have forgiven the rest, it was just that last part that was causing all the trouble.
Crazy, annoying, perfect Violet.
"Black leather," he said. She blinked, and he lifted his face out of his palm. "You've got Mr Ex-President? Who, by the way, cheated on Hillary with a much younger woman, and boy do you have a type or what. The point is - besides that Hillary could do so much better and everyone knows it - I have black leather. And you. Actually, sometimes we lose the leather and it's just you." He paused for effect. "Naked."
She seemed stunned, and then she leaned in a little. "Really? Black leather?" She was intrigued - that was a good sign. Then she closed her eyes briefly, shaking her head. "No, see this just proves it. You're confusing me with your sleazy online fantasy girls. Besides, it'd be weird. I mean, wouldn't it be weird? You and me? It'd be like -"
"Don't say it. Don't even think about saying it'd be like making out with your brother. That's not even funny."
"Okay, it'd be like two desperate, lonely people with nothing better to do. Is that what you want? No chemistry, no passion, just... like two old socks rolled up together?"
"First of all, ew? And secondly, thanks for completely dismissing everything I've said the last few minutes about being desperately in love with you. And third, prove it."
"Prove what?"
"The total lack of chemistry. Come on, put your money where your mouth is, sister. Okay, forget I just called you 'sister'."
"You're not taunting me into having sex with you."
"Not sex, just - look, if it's going to fizzle, we should be able to tell right away, right?"
For a moment he had no idea what she was going to say next. Then she gestured at him.
"Okay, come on."
He didn't move. "Seriously?"
"If it'll get you to shut up about it, sure."
He stared at her, frozen, and she looked back a little wide-eyed, and then she just leaned over and kissed him, just like that, and all he could think was that he'd been thinking about this for so long and wow, her lips were really, really soft.
And then she was pulling away. "See, I -"
He followed her, capturing her lips again. Just - no way that was it. No way.
And this time, he even remembered to kiss her back.
And there was the softness again, and that was good, and then her mouth dropped open a little - possibly in surprise, but he wasn't too much of a man to take advantage of it, adding a little tongue.
This was possibly his one and only chance of ever kissing the woman he loved and there was no way he wasn't going to add a little tongue.
What was awesome was how, this time, she didn't pull away. It might have had something to do with having both his hands holding her head so she didn't do just that. But she wasn't trying to pull away, and then it got even more awesome because she threw in a little tongue of her own.
It was Violet, and it was real, and it was almost better than all the black leather in the world put together.
She sighed into his mouth then and he felt her relax a bit, shifting closer on the couch so their bodies weren't, like, held awkwardly at right-angle to each other anymore. One of her hands moved to rest on his arm and he loosened his grip on the back of her head and touched her face instead and decided that this was the best kiss ever. Really, the best.
Then she had to go and ruin it by stiffening up, the hand on his arm tightening as she pushed back. He let her go. Reluctantly, slowly, but he let her go.
And once there were inches between them, he let out a breath and opened his eyes. "Yeah. That sucked."
She was licking her lips slowly, not looking up at him, her gaze fixed somewhere around his chest.
"Maybe," she said, "maybe... sad and desperate isn't so bad?"
She laughed, and oh, he knew that laugh. It was her 'I'm trying not to freak out crying' laugh. He hated that laugh.
They were still close, still holding on to each other, and he only needed the smallest pull to draw her in against him, wrapping his arms around her. She sighed into his shoulder, breath hot through his shirt. He rested his chin on her head.
"You can call my love for you sad and desperate if you want but that's not going to make me any less inclined to jump you sometime in the very near future."
He looked down to see her shoulders shake. And after a moment's worry he realised she was snickering, not sobbing. "Cooper," she said, her voice muffled, then she lifted her head to look at him. "Come on, you're not going to jump me. You had to dare me to kiss you." She lifted her hand to his face, but unfortunately not in an 'I'm going to kiss you again' way - no, this was more of a 'pat you on the cheek and send you home' gesture. "Just how long have you been feeling like this, anyway?"
"A while," he said uncomfortably.
"And you've just been letting me torture you with all my Alan crap this whole time?"
"Kinda."
"Wuss," she muttered.
"Crazy person with big, stupid hair," he retorted.
And okay, he was getting a little desperate, apparently. But things had been going so well and now it was all falling apart, and so it was really only fair if he did too.
"The truth is, you're afraid of intimacy. Being honest with someone, it terrifies you. That's why you do your little internet playdates, because you can arrange everything by email and never have to risk anything." She shook her head. "All of which just means you don't have the stones to jump me, or you would have done it months ago."
"I don't have the stones. I don't have the stones?"
She shrugged, holding up her hands as if to say 'do I look like I'm being jumped, here?'
He did what any man would do under the circumstances, he reasoned. He grabbed her, fully intending to provide all the jumping she could handle - only to stop a hair's breadth away from planting his lips on hers when he realised she was grinning.
Grinning?
"Uh," he said, "what just happened?"
"I taunted you into having sex with me?"
"'Kay." He paused. "For the record? You never have to do that."
"Yeah, well you say that, but since we're still sitting here talking about it -"
There was very little in the way of talking from that point on, because then he was kissing her, again. And then they were doing other things for the very first time. None of which strictly called for talking.
Well, it put a stop to the complaining, anyway - it was still Violet, after all, and she never shut up. There was still a fair bit of name-calling, for instance, but actually, that worked for him. He always suspected Violet had a kinky side.
Except for when the name she called him was 'Bill', which wasn't so hot. But he was pretty sure she was joking. Really, almost completely sure. Really.
end