Secret Santa Pinch Hitter Fic for Kostmickway - Complications - Bailey/Grace
Title: Complications
Author: M. Elizabeth Ravensblood
Rating: PG-15 for brief implied sex
Pairing: Bailey/Grace
Summary: Set between Old Acquaintance and Jack Be Nimble Grace and Bailey discuss certain complications in their lives on Christmas Night. Set in an AU in which Morgan died in the episode The House That Jack Built, so Grace was widowed and never had a baby.
Author's Notes This is for my dear friend kosmickway. Your regular Secret Santa empty_marrow will have your gift down the road for you, but until then here is a small pinch hit present for you :o)
The command center of the VCTF was silent except for the occasional series of beeps that the computers would emit. Nearly midnight on Christmas eve, most of the agents and even the cleaning staff were home with their families. Only one entrance at the agency was open and required guarding and it was far from the command center. Somewhere in the main computer room, a tech who worked under George was monitoring for updates on Jack and periodically dozing.
Grace stretched at her desk in autopsy and pushed a stack of files to the side. It had been nearly a year since Jack had killed Morgan and she hadn't wanted to stay home alone. Sam had invited her to join her and Chloe for Christmas but Grace had politely demurred. There was no way she could endure a day of forcing a smile while Chloe unwrapped her presents and then talking with Sam about Jack and what he'd taken from them both. She had never been comfortable opening up about Morgan with Sam so she'd come into work, but it was getting late and she was tired.
Standing up, Grace got her coat and purse, turned out the lights and left autopsy. On her way through the command center, she noticed a light on in Bailey's office. Quietly, she walked towards his office and hesitated outside his door. If there was news on Jack, the entire bull pen would be buzzing with activity. Inside his office, she saw her old friend sitting on his sofa, staring blankly as he sipped from a glass of scotch. For a moment she struggled whether to leave him quietly or to say something but then he looked up and noticed her.
"Hey, what are you doing here?"
"Working on some reports to finish up before New Years. Why aren't you at home with Frannie?"
Looking at his scotch, Bailey sighed, "It's complicated."
He threw back the rest of his glass, then motioned for her to come in and reached for a glass on the end table. It was late and cabs weren't out, but she could have one drink with him, wander across the street to the all night diner, have something to eat and wait until it was safe for her to drive home. Bailey seemed almost lost as he sat there and poured for them both. Accepting the glass he held out to her, Grace sat down beside him.
"So tell me about complicated."
"The simple answer is that she's with her mother for the evening."
Taking a sip, she prompted, "Seems a bit simple for complicated. Come on, talk to me."
"Maybe later. Drink up and tell me why you're really here. Morgan?"
"Morgan," she repeated and drained her glass.
Bailey moved to refill her glass and she didn't stop him. Since her husband's death, Grace had been offered comfort by friends. George would take her out for coffee and try to get her to open up. She'd even been to a therapist at Bailey's insistence for the first six months. But none of it made any difference. She never once told anyone the truth. It was too awful and she couldn't face it. Taking another sip of scotch, she felt the warmth spread over her. When was the last time she'd eaten? Hours? Yesterday? Did it really matter?
"Gracie, you've been so distant. I know you've been hurt, but I helped Sam and I-"
Drawing back, she spat angrily, "I'm not Sam! We both work here, have the same plumbing, and had someone killed by Jack, but that's where the similarity ends!"
Bailey stared at her uncertainly. "I meant I'm here for you."
"I know that. It's just... Oh hell!" Grace cursed as she felt tears well up. She wasn't the sort to allow herself to cry in private and she sure as hell didn't want to cry in front of her boss. Choking back emotion, she swallowed more scotch and blinked furiously.
"Grace," he hesitated softly.
"It's not what you think, Bailey. It's all the things that I can't say."
"You can say them to me."
She shook her head. "You'll think I'm a horrible person."
Gently taking her chin and bringing her face up to meet his gaze, he said, "I would never think that."
"Oh, you might. You see, the day Morgan died- the day he died- I-" She exhaled, then met his gaze and took his hand. It was now or never. "That morning, I told Morgan, I wanted a divorce. I got home later than usual because I was looking at an apartment that would take the dogs. Morgan died because of me."
"That's not your fault-"
"Did I kill him? No. But you have no idea how hard it was going through the funeral and having everyone trying to console me when his death was almost a relief. The fighting had gotten so bad in the months before that. Did you know he was cheating on me with his secretary? I almost hated the very sight of him. In a sick way, Jack-"
"Did you a favor?"
"Yeah. And that's why I can't bear to be at the house. It's the reason why I'm putting it up for sale this spring. Because I hate myself for having hated him and for not being able to grieve him properly. George knew we had issues, but I never told anyone how bad they were. It was getting scary. We were throwing things and having screaming matches. Morgan had spent the last three months on the couch because I couldn't stand being next to him. We tried couples counseling and it just made me angry. Why did I have to work on myself when he was the bastard that had been cheating on me for over a year?"
Bailey moved closer and wrapped his arms around her. "You're not a bad person, Grace. I had no idea he was cheating on you, but I can hardly blame you for hating him for betraying you. It was just bad timing on Jack's part. Or maybe perfect given his listening devices we found in your house."
"I still feel like I'm terrible. The worst of it was I loved him at one time and then the way he just threw everything away. It's like when he died, I hated him even more because he left me with the memories of the good times in shreds. It's hard to explain. It's-"
"Complicated. Yeah. I do get it. It's why I'm here tonight. Because while I'm glad Frannie's safe and I still love her; I can't let the shooting go. We both avoid talking about it, but I just want to shake her and know why? How could she do that to me? I'm her father, I've always loved her and because she's feeling a little rebellious, things escalate to that point. It hurts. It just plain fucking hurts."
"It does."
"And no matter how many people are around, I've never felt more empty in my life."
Nodding, she sadly agreed, "Me either."
"I'm tired of feeling this way. Grace, I shouldn't ask, but-"
Their eyes met and a moment later, they flickered closed and their mouths met. Glasses of alcohol were put to the side before they removed just enough clothing to be as close as possible and she straddled him. Tonight was the first time either of them had felt alive in a long time. Tomorrow they could worry about the consequences. After all, they were used to complications...
Author: M. Elizabeth Ravensblood
Rating: PG-15 for brief implied sex
Pairing: Bailey/Grace
Summary: Set between Old Acquaintance and Jack Be Nimble Grace and Bailey discuss certain complications in their lives on Christmas Night. Set in an AU in which Morgan died in the episode The House That Jack Built, so Grace was widowed and never had a baby.
Author's Notes This is for my dear friend kosmickway. Your regular Secret Santa empty_marrow will have your gift down the road for you, but until then here is a small pinch hit present for you :o)
The command center of the VCTF was silent except for the occasional series of beeps that the computers would emit. Nearly midnight on Christmas eve, most of the agents and even the cleaning staff were home with their families. Only one entrance at the agency was open and required guarding and it was far from the command center. Somewhere in the main computer room, a tech who worked under George was monitoring for updates on Jack and periodically dozing.
Grace stretched at her desk in autopsy and pushed a stack of files to the side. It had been nearly a year since Jack had killed Morgan and she hadn't wanted to stay home alone. Sam had invited her to join her and Chloe for Christmas but Grace had politely demurred. There was no way she could endure a day of forcing a smile while Chloe unwrapped her presents and then talking with Sam about Jack and what he'd taken from them both. She had never been comfortable opening up about Morgan with Sam so she'd come into work, but it was getting late and she was tired.
Standing up, Grace got her coat and purse, turned out the lights and left autopsy. On her way through the command center, she noticed a light on in Bailey's office. Quietly, she walked towards his office and hesitated outside his door. If there was news on Jack, the entire bull pen would be buzzing with activity. Inside his office, she saw her old friend sitting on his sofa, staring blankly as he sipped from a glass of scotch. For a moment she struggled whether to leave him quietly or to say something but then he looked up and noticed her.
"Hey, what are you doing here?"
"Working on some reports to finish up before New Years. Why aren't you at home with Frannie?"
Looking at his scotch, Bailey sighed, "It's complicated."
He threw back the rest of his glass, then motioned for her to come in and reached for a glass on the end table. It was late and cabs weren't out, but she could have one drink with him, wander across the street to the all night diner, have something to eat and wait until it was safe for her to drive home. Bailey seemed almost lost as he sat there and poured for them both. Accepting the glass he held out to her, Grace sat down beside him.
"So tell me about complicated."
"The simple answer is that she's with her mother for the evening."
Taking a sip, she prompted, "Seems a bit simple for complicated. Come on, talk to me."
"Maybe later. Drink up and tell me why you're really here. Morgan?"
"Morgan," she repeated and drained her glass.
Bailey moved to refill her glass and she didn't stop him. Since her husband's death, Grace had been offered comfort by friends. George would take her out for coffee and try to get her to open up. She'd even been to a therapist at Bailey's insistence for the first six months. But none of it made any difference. She never once told anyone the truth. It was too awful and she couldn't face it. Taking another sip of scotch, she felt the warmth spread over her. When was the last time she'd eaten? Hours? Yesterday? Did it really matter?
"Gracie, you've been so distant. I know you've been hurt, but I helped Sam and I-"
Drawing back, she spat angrily, "I'm not Sam! We both work here, have the same plumbing, and had someone killed by Jack, but that's where the similarity ends!"
Bailey stared at her uncertainly. "I meant I'm here for you."
"I know that. It's just... Oh hell!" Grace cursed as she felt tears well up. She wasn't the sort to allow herself to cry in private and she sure as hell didn't want to cry in front of her boss. Choking back emotion, she swallowed more scotch and blinked furiously.
"Grace," he hesitated softly.
"It's not what you think, Bailey. It's all the things that I can't say."
"You can say them to me."
She shook her head. "You'll think I'm a horrible person."
Gently taking her chin and bringing her face up to meet his gaze, he said, "I would never think that."
"Oh, you might. You see, the day Morgan died- the day he died- I-" She exhaled, then met his gaze and took his hand. It was now or never. "That morning, I told Morgan, I wanted a divorce. I got home later than usual because I was looking at an apartment that would take the dogs. Morgan died because of me."
"That's not your fault-"
"Did I kill him? No. But you have no idea how hard it was going through the funeral and having everyone trying to console me when his death was almost a relief. The fighting had gotten so bad in the months before that. Did you know he was cheating on me with his secretary? I almost hated the very sight of him. In a sick way, Jack-"
"Did you a favor?"
"Yeah. And that's why I can't bear to be at the house. It's the reason why I'm putting it up for sale this spring. Because I hate myself for having hated him and for not being able to grieve him properly. George knew we had issues, but I never told anyone how bad they were. It was getting scary. We were throwing things and having screaming matches. Morgan had spent the last three months on the couch because I couldn't stand being next to him. We tried couples counseling and it just made me angry. Why did I have to work on myself when he was the bastard that had been cheating on me for over a year?"
Bailey moved closer and wrapped his arms around her. "You're not a bad person, Grace. I had no idea he was cheating on you, but I can hardly blame you for hating him for betraying you. It was just bad timing on Jack's part. Or maybe perfect given his listening devices we found in your house."
"I still feel like I'm terrible. The worst of it was I loved him at one time and then the way he just threw everything away. It's like when he died, I hated him even more because he left me with the memories of the good times in shreds. It's hard to explain. It's-"
"Complicated. Yeah. I do get it. It's why I'm here tonight. Because while I'm glad Frannie's safe and I still love her; I can't let the shooting go. We both avoid talking about it, but I just want to shake her and know why? How could she do that to me? I'm her father, I've always loved her and because she's feeling a little rebellious, things escalate to that point. It hurts. It just plain fucking hurts."
"It does."
"And no matter how many people are around, I've never felt more empty in my life."
Nodding, she sadly agreed, "Me either."
"I'm tired of feeling this way. Grace, I shouldn't ask, but-"
Their eyes met and a moment later, they flickered closed and their mouths met. Glasses of alcohol were put to the side before they removed just enough clothing to be as close as possible and she straddled him. Tonight was the first time either of them had felt alive in a long time. Tomorrow they could worry about the consequences. After all, they were used to complications...