(no subject)
Title: Bourbon Loosens The Tongue
Author: brookeormian
Rating: PG
Pairing(s): Charlie/Olivia
Warnings/Spoilers: None, pre-series.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Nada. Zip.
Summary: A long week, too much whisky and a cold winter's eve in Boston. My imaginings of a moment in Charlie and Olivia's pre-series relationship.
It had been a long week. A really long week. Long enough that Charlie couldn’t bring himself to enjoy the rear view of Olivia winding her way through the bar’s patrons on her way to the bathroom.
However, that might also have something to do with the fact they’d just consumed far too much Bourbon. Olivia was only a tiny amount away from ‘winding’ turning into ‘stumbling’ and his vision was severely distorted. He rubbed his eyes in a desperate attempt to clear them and looked up to test his sight again to find a guy sitting further down the bar watching him curiously. He fought the urge to scowl - to be honest, he fought the urge to flash his badge at him and tell him to mind his own business - and instead looked back down at his glass.
He had just downed the remains of his fourth - Fourth? Fifth? Jesus, maybe it was sixth - drink when Olivia returned, leaning against her recently vacated stool in what looked like an impressively casual manner, but he knew was most likely the first stable position she’d managed. She looked a damn sight better than he currently did, the twinkle in her eyes and knowing smile reflecting this fact back to him to echo in stereo with the thoughts in his head.
"Ready to go?" She asked, her voice husky from a combination of the late hour, liquor and ridiculous overtime they’d both clocked up.
"Sure." He said quietly, pulling out his wallet to throw a few bills on the counter. It was too much, but he was feeling generous and the bartender had been very good in keeping the drinks flowing without asking any questions.
Olivia stood unsteadily as she waited for him, and when he joined her she allowed him to slip an arm around her waist to guide her out into the Boston winter. He caught the eye of his previous observer and smirked in a way that he hoped conveyed that’s right, she’s with me in the most caustic way possible. Even if it wasn’t strictly true.
The first step through a door into outdoors Boston in any of the year’s coldest months was always something to regret the instant the air hit your lungs. He unconsciously clutched Olivia closer to him as they started the slow path to her home, enjoying the way she moulded against his side.
They walked in silence for a minute or so until she stumbled on a loose kerbstone. "Woah, Livy, careful." He said as he hoisted her back up.
"I told you." She started, whirling on him. She was still unsteady so when she went to poke him in the chest her finger met his shirt with slightly more force than was necessary. He winced as she punctuated each of her following words with a stab of her index. "Don’t call me Livy. I don’t like it."
He looked down and caught her finger. "Yes you do. You told me, makes you feel young again."
"Maybe that’s why I don’t like you saying it." She said quietly and their eyes locked.
"Liv…" He started slowly. "I think the Bourbon’s loosening your tongue. Let’s get you home."
She hummed softly, but instead of moving off in their previous direction, she pushed against him until he started heading backwards. He felt his back connected with solid brick and her eyes flashed now with a new fire. "Hmm, but has it loosened yours?"
A million thoughts rushed through his mind when she leant in to press her lips against his. This was Olivia, Livy, Liv, his friend, his colleague of nearly two years. Olivia, with whom he really wasn’t like this, not once, despite the past opportunities. They were just tired and drunk and couldn’t be held accountable for their actions, surely?
As her hand moved up to caress his cheek, his right hand slid thoughtlessly down to hold her hip, his left resting in the small of her back. Both were combining to pull her closer rather than push her away, which he was sure wasn’t what he meant to do. When her lips parted and her tongue snaked out to tangle with his, that awful cliché came true - all previous negative thoughts slid away replaced only with the feel of her in his arms.
A honk of a horn and a couple of catcalls broke through the haze enough for him to pull away from her, resting his forehead against hers. "Liv, I…"
"Sssh." She said, resting a finger on his lips. She took a step backwards and regarded him fondly. "Just walk me home Charlie, that’s all I’m asking."
--
The next day was spent together; both a force of habit and a placeholder as a result of Olivia having to cancel her trip back home to see her sister and new baby niece. They had lunch and went to the movies, picking holes in the portrayal of the FBI in yet another mindless action film. In the early evening gloom he dropped her off and she lingered slightly in the car, as if contemplating her options.
Finally she settled for bidding him goodnight with a plea for him to get plenty of rest before the new working week, kissing his cheek and slipping out of the SUV as quickly as possible. She paused on the doorstep briefly, giving him a quick wave before he drove off.
The next day they would be introduced to a new Agent, one John Scott freshly transferred to Boston. Charlie would very quickly learn that the… moment in the cold would not come again as long as John was on the scene, and it wouldn’t hurt as much as he expected.
Only when he called her Livy would the memory resurface, and over time he learnt to tease her with it. John would smile in a vaguely bemused manner and Olivia would chuckle and that, he realised, was more than enough.
Author: brookeormian
Rating: PG
Pairing(s): Charlie/Olivia
Warnings/Spoilers: None, pre-series.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Nada. Zip.
Summary: A long week, too much whisky and a cold winter's eve in Boston. My imaginings of a moment in Charlie and Olivia's pre-series relationship.
It had been a long week. A really long week. Long enough that Charlie couldn’t bring himself to enjoy the rear view of Olivia winding her way through the bar’s patrons on her way to the bathroom.
However, that might also have something to do with the fact they’d just consumed far too much Bourbon. Olivia was only a tiny amount away from ‘winding’ turning into ‘stumbling’ and his vision was severely distorted. He rubbed his eyes in a desperate attempt to clear them and looked up to test his sight again to find a guy sitting further down the bar watching him curiously. He fought the urge to scowl - to be honest, he fought the urge to flash his badge at him and tell him to mind his own business - and instead looked back down at his glass.
He had just downed the remains of his fourth - Fourth? Fifth? Jesus, maybe it was sixth - drink when Olivia returned, leaning against her recently vacated stool in what looked like an impressively casual manner, but he knew was most likely the first stable position she’d managed. She looked a damn sight better than he currently did, the twinkle in her eyes and knowing smile reflecting this fact back to him to echo in stereo with the thoughts in his head.
"Ready to go?" She asked, her voice husky from a combination of the late hour, liquor and ridiculous overtime they’d both clocked up.
"Sure." He said quietly, pulling out his wallet to throw a few bills on the counter. It was too much, but he was feeling generous and the bartender had been very good in keeping the drinks flowing without asking any questions.
Olivia stood unsteadily as she waited for him, and when he joined her she allowed him to slip an arm around her waist to guide her out into the Boston winter. He caught the eye of his previous observer and smirked in a way that he hoped conveyed that’s right, she’s with me in the most caustic way possible. Even if it wasn’t strictly true.
The first step through a door into outdoors Boston in any of the year’s coldest months was always something to regret the instant the air hit your lungs. He unconsciously clutched Olivia closer to him as they started the slow path to her home, enjoying the way she moulded against his side.
They walked in silence for a minute or so until she stumbled on a loose kerbstone. "Woah, Livy, careful." He said as he hoisted her back up.
"I told you." She started, whirling on him. She was still unsteady so when she went to poke him in the chest her finger met his shirt with slightly more force than was necessary. He winced as she punctuated each of her following words with a stab of her index. "Don’t call me Livy. I don’t like it."
He looked down and caught her finger. "Yes you do. You told me, makes you feel young again."
"Maybe that’s why I don’t like you saying it." She said quietly and their eyes locked.
"Liv…" He started slowly. "I think the Bourbon’s loosening your tongue. Let’s get you home."
She hummed softly, but instead of moving off in their previous direction, she pushed against him until he started heading backwards. He felt his back connected with solid brick and her eyes flashed now with a new fire. "Hmm, but has it loosened yours?"
A million thoughts rushed through his mind when she leant in to press her lips against his. This was Olivia, Livy, Liv, his friend, his colleague of nearly two years. Olivia, with whom he really wasn’t like this, not once, despite the past opportunities. They were just tired and drunk and couldn’t be held accountable for their actions, surely?
As her hand moved up to caress his cheek, his right hand slid thoughtlessly down to hold her hip, his left resting in the small of her back. Both were combining to pull her closer rather than push her away, which he was sure wasn’t what he meant to do. When her lips parted and her tongue snaked out to tangle with his, that awful cliché came true - all previous negative thoughts slid away replaced only with the feel of her in his arms.
A honk of a horn and a couple of catcalls broke through the haze enough for him to pull away from her, resting his forehead against hers. "Liv, I…"
"Sssh." She said, resting a finger on his lips. She took a step backwards and regarded him fondly. "Just walk me home Charlie, that’s all I’m asking."
--
The next day was spent together; both a force of habit and a placeholder as a result of Olivia having to cancel her trip back home to see her sister and new baby niece. They had lunch and went to the movies, picking holes in the portrayal of the FBI in yet another mindless action film. In the early evening gloom he dropped her off and she lingered slightly in the car, as if contemplating her options.
Finally she settled for bidding him goodnight with a plea for him to get plenty of rest before the new working week, kissing his cheek and slipping out of the SUV as quickly as possible. She paused on the doorstep briefly, giving him a quick wave before he drove off.
The next day they would be introduced to a new Agent, one John Scott freshly transferred to Boston. Charlie would very quickly learn that the… moment in the cold would not come again as long as John was on the scene, and it wouldn’t hurt as much as he expected.
Only when he called her Livy would the memory resurface, and over time he learnt to tease her with it. John would smile in a vaguely bemused manner and Olivia would chuckle and that, he realised, was more than enough.