Fic: Tell Me More (The Good Wife, Cary/Kalinda)
Title: Tell Me More
Disclaimer: Not mine in any way, shape, or form.
Fandom/Characters: The Good Wife, Cary/Kalinda
Word Count: 268
Request: For torigates, because she is wonderful and because she asked. Set vaguely somewhere in season two.
“You’ve changed, you know,” Kalinda says to him one day, practically out of the blue.
They’re in his office and they’re playing their game, her trying to wheedle information out of him, him trying (and usually failing) to keep her from getting what she came for. Cary assumes that this is just a new tactic.
“Sure I have,” he says, leaning back in his chair. “Go on, tell me more.”
She shrugs, just a little, a barely perceptible gesture that someone who didn’t spend nine months watching her every move wouldn’t see. He sees.
His eyes narrow. “Kalinda,” he says.
“Cary,” she returns.
He can’t quite stop the confused smile that turns up the corners of his mouth. Something - something about this feels different. Different from every other conversation they’ve ever had, every conversation he’s wished they’d had. The air feels charged, maybe, like she’s looking at him the way that he’s always looked at her. He looks at her and she looks back at him, and for just a moment, Cary lets himself have hope.
He knows better than that.
“What -“ he starts to say, but she shakes her head and rises gracefully from the chair opposite his desk.
“Don’t,” she says, and he nods his head, just once, in acknowledgment. She gives him the half smile that’s always made him wonder what the secret to earning the other half might be and walks to the door. “I’ll see you around,” she says, and then slips through the door, letting it fall closed behind her.
He watches the door and wonders just when that will be.
Disclaimer: Not mine in any way, shape, or form.
Fandom/Characters: The Good Wife, Cary/Kalinda
Word Count: 268
Request: For torigates, because she is wonderful and because she asked. Set vaguely somewhere in season two.
“You’ve changed, you know,” Kalinda says to him one day, practically out of the blue.
They’re in his office and they’re playing their game, her trying to wheedle information out of him, him trying (and usually failing) to keep her from getting what she came for. Cary assumes that this is just a new tactic.
“Sure I have,” he says, leaning back in his chair. “Go on, tell me more.”
She shrugs, just a little, a barely perceptible gesture that someone who didn’t spend nine months watching her every move wouldn’t see. He sees.
His eyes narrow. “Kalinda,” he says.
“Cary,” she returns.
He can’t quite stop the confused smile that turns up the corners of his mouth. Something - something about this feels different. Different from every other conversation they’ve ever had, every conversation he’s wished they’d had. The air feels charged, maybe, like she’s looking at him the way that he’s always looked at her. He looks at her and she looks back at him, and for just a moment, Cary lets himself have hope.
He knows better than that.
“What -“ he starts to say, but she shakes her head and rises gracefully from the chair opposite his desk.
“Don’t,” she says, and he nods his head, just once, in acknowledgment. She gives him the half smile that’s always made him wonder what the secret to earning the other half might be and walks to the door. “I’ll see you around,” she says, and then slips through the door, letting it fall closed behind her.
He watches the door and wonders just when that will be.