Fic: Nothing at All
Title: Nothing at All
Author:angelqueen04
Rating: PG-13
Summary: He doesn't have to say it out loud; it's clear in his every action.
Author's note: For so8lue, who requested 'Five ways Brendan says 'I love you' without saying the words.'
“Brendan,” Freya said impatiently as he led her off the path they had been walking on through the park, “Where are we going?”
The agent grinned at her. “You’ll see,” he said mysteriously as he walked ahead of her. Abruptly, he stopped and turned, pointing a finger at her. “And no peeking!”
She rolled her eyes, but gamely followed him. He’d driven her here, so he was her only way out. She wasn’t about to take a cab.
They continued along for several more minutes and just as Freya was about to open her mouth to demand an explanation, Brendan suddenly reached out and grasped her hand. He then pulled her through a cluster of trees and over to the other side.
Freya looked around and gasped. They were in a beautiful little clearing that looked as untouched as the forests her father had taken her and June into as children. Quite a feat in the middle of Central Park.
But that wasn’t the most remarkable thing. There, in the middle of the little grove, was a small blanket and a picnic basket, of all things.
Freya gaped at the picnic basket, and then turned incredulously to look at Brendan. He just laughed softly at her expression, somehow managing to look both as pleased as punch and apprehensive at the same time.
“You surprised,” he asked quietly, his green eyes beseeching.
“I,” she started, paused, and then continued, “Yes.” A small smile formed on her lips and she reached out for his hand, which she had dropped in her earlier shock. “Very much.”
His shoulders dropped slightly in relief.
“Good.”
---
“Ugggh,” Freya moaned when her bedroom door opened and light spilled in from the hallway. “Go ‘way, ‘une,” she muttered, burying her face in her pillow. She’d been down with the flu for nearly a week now, and June had stopped off everyday to make sure she ate something and took the medicine her doctor had prescribed.
“I’m not June. I don’t have the legs.”
Freya pulled away from her pillow, and looked blearily towards the doorway. “B’endan?”
He grinned at her. “Yep. Your sister called me. She got held up in court and won’t be here until later on tonight. She asked me if I’d come over here and heat up the soup and make sure you took your medicine.” He held up a small bowl of steaming broth and a pill bottle as he studied her. “You look like hell,” he commented.
She did her best to glare at him. “T’anks,” she huffed, struggling with the blankets so she could sit up.
Brendan sat in the chair next to her bed as she drank the broth he’d handed her. When she finished, she downed two of the antibiotics with the glass of water left on her nightstand. When she finished, she yawned. She was still so tired.
He seemed to sense that. Brendan stood up and gently pushed her back down on her bed. “Go back to sleep,” he murmured softly. “You need to get well soon or Wells and Harper may blow up the office out of sheer frustration.”
Her eyes were drifting closed, but she still laughed a little. “T’anks, B’endan,” she mumbled as she drifted off.
Just before she lost consciousness all together, she felt a hand run soothingly over her head and heard a soft reply, “Anytime.”
---
Freya shivered as the rain continued to pour down, and yet she made no move to go back inside the building. She couldn’t go back in there. Couldn’t face what she knew those voices would be saying. That this was her fault, that she should have been quicker, that three people, including a teenager, were dead because of her.
She couldn’t remember how long she’d been out here, standing in the rain and listening to it hit the pavement. She just couldn’t get those people out of her head. Two of them had been kidnappers, down as they fought back against the SWAT team, but the third had been one of the four kidnap victims, a thirteen-year-old girl named Susannah.
A thirteen-year-old girl’s life had been snuffed out because she hadn’t been quick enough, because she hadn’t -
Freya’s thoughts were abruptly cut off when she suddenly found herself shielded from the rain by an umbrella. Turning to her right, she found Brendan staring down at her solemnly.
“You can’t save them all, Freya,” he said softly.
Tears threatened and she turned away. “I should be able to save a child. If I can’t do that much, then why the hell am I here?”
She started to walk away, intending on going somewhere, anywhere, where she could be alone, but was brought to a halt when his hand grasped her arm. He pulled her back around to face him.
“Don’t do this to yourself, Freya,” Brendan ground out, his eyes stern. “If you go down that path, you’ll never make it back. It will drive you mad.”
Wouldn’t be the first time, a dim voice said in the back of her mind. That voice was quickly silenced, however, when he pulled her to him and held her close to his body. Freya stiffened briefly, but before she knew it, she felt her body sinking against his.
They stood together beneath an umbrella, her face buried in the folds of his coat. He stroked her back soothingly as she cried.
---
Laughter filled the large dance floor as people, adults and children alike, clapped to the beat of the music. Freya laughed with them as she left the floor and moved towards the table set aside for the wedding party. Brendan was sitting there eating what was probably his third piece of cake.
She flopped down into her chair next to him, still giggling as she grasped her glass and took a sip of the wine.
Brendan turned to look at her, smirking. “Having fun,” he asked amusedly.
Freya grinned. “More than I thought I would,” she replied. “Being Maid of Honor isn’t so bad once you finally get to this point. It’s only hell leading up to the wedding.”
He nodded and looked down at his piece of cake. Taking up a piece with his fork, he moved it over to her lips. “Open up,” he murmured.
She raised an eyebrow, but complied, letting him feed her the pastry bite. As she chewed, Freya closed her eyes and savored it. The baker had outdone himself.
They sat in a comfortable silence and finished off the cake together. Brendan then stood up and held a hand out to her, smiling. “Dance with me,” he said. “I think as your date I warrant at least one go on the dance floor.”
Freya didn’t hesitate to put her hand in his larger one and trustingly let him lead her out onto the floor just as the loud, fast-paced music faded into a slower, romantic tune. He pulled her close, and she rested her cheek against him with her arm settling loosely on his shoulder and around his neck. She smiled when he took her other hand and held it close to his chest as they began to sway to the music.
As they turned, Freya spotted June dancing with her new husband, Will Fieldman. She looked utterly content, but her eyes were fixed on her. Freya smiled at her, but when she felt Brendan brush his lips lightly on her head, all her thoughts went back to the man she was dancing with.
---
Freya woke slowly as she rolled over to her other side. Her hand reached out instinctively for the person she knew should be in the bed beside her -
- and found the bed empty.
Her eyes shot open and she sat up in the bed, looking around wildly. Her clothes from the previous night were still strewn about on the floor, but Brendan’s were nowhere to be found. Carefully, Freya got up and grabbed her robe, which lay in its usual position on the chair sitting cattycornered a few feet away from her. After putting it on and tying the belt, she left the room.
As soon as she stepped out into the hall, the smell of bacon hit her. Following her nose and relaxing at the same time, Freya made her way down the small spiral staircase and into the kitchen. There was Brendan in her kitchenette, intent on watching the bacon fry as he stirred several eggs together in a measuring cup.
“Well,” she said, “aren’t you full of surprises?”
He turned and looked at her, surprised. “You’re up?”
She nodded, suddenly feeling shy. “You weren’t there,” she told him.
Brendan winced. “Sorry, I just wanted to -”
“It’s okay,” she assured him, moving toward him. She smiled. “A girl can’t complain if a guy wants to make her breakfast in bed.” Her arms came up to wrap loosely around his neck and she stretched up to kiss him.
He returned the gesture, kissing her lightly, before turning back to the food. “Off with you,” he said mock-sternly. “Trust me; you don’t want burnt bacon and raw eggs for breakfast.”
Freya laughed and backed away. “I’ll go get changed then. I’m not exactly dressed for breakfast with company.”
“What are you wearing?”
She smiled wickedly. “Under the robe, you mean? Nothing.”
The sound of him fumbling with the fork and the bacon echoed behind her as she hurried back up the steps to her room.
Author:angelqueen04
Rating: PG-13
Summary: He doesn't have to say it out loud; it's clear in his every action.
Author's note: For so8lue, who requested 'Five ways Brendan says 'I love you' without saying the words.'
“Brendan,” Freya said impatiently as he led her off the path they had been walking on through the park, “Where are we going?”
The agent grinned at her. “You’ll see,” he said mysteriously as he walked ahead of her. Abruptly, he stopped and turned, pointing a finger at her. “And no peeking!”
She rolled her eyes, but gamely followed him. He’d driven her here, so he was her only way out. She wasn’t about to take a cab.
They continued along for several more minutes and just as Freya was about to open her mouth to demand an explanation, Brendan suddenly reached out and grasped her hand. He then pulled her through a cluster of trees and over to the other side.
Freya looked around and gasped. They were in a beautiful little clearing that looked as untouched as the forests her father had taken her and June into as children. Quite a feat in the middle of Central Park.
But that wasn’t the most remarkable thing. There, in the middle of the little grove, was a small blanket and a picnic basket, of all things.
Freya gaped at the picnic basket, and then turned incredulously to look at Brendan. He just laughed softly at her expression, somehow managing to look both as pleased as punch and apprehensive at the same time.
“You surprised,” he asked quietly, his green eyes beseeching.
“I,” she started, paused, and then continued, “Yes.” A small smile formed on her lips and she reached out for his hand, which she had dropped in her earlier shock. “Very much.”
His shoulders dropped slightly in relief.
“Good.”
---
“Ugggh,” Freya moaned when her bedroom door opened and light spilled in from the hallway. “Go ‘way, ‘une,” she muttered, burying her face in her pillow. She’d been down with the flu for nearly a week now, and June had stopped off everyday to make sure she ate something and took the medicine her doctor had prescribed.
“I’m not June. I don’t have the legs.”
Freya pulled away from her pillow, and looked blearily towards the doorway. “B’endan?”
He grinned at her. “Yep. Your sister called me. She got held up in court and won’t be here until later on tonight. She asked me if I’d come over here and heat up the soup and make sure you took your medicine.” He held up a small bowl of steaming broth and a pill bottle as he studied her. “You look like hell,” he commented.
She did her best to glare at him. “T’anks,” she huffed, struggling with the blankets so she could sit up.
Brendan sat in the chair next to her bed as she drank the broth he’d handed her. When she finished, she downed two of the antibiotics with the glass of water left on her nightstand. When she finished, she yawned. She was still so tired.
He seemed to sense that. Brendan stood up and gently pushed her back down on her bed. “Go back to sleep,” he murmured softly. “You need to get well soon or Wells and Harper may blow up the office out of sheer frustration.”
Her eyes were drifting closed, but she still laughed a little. “T’anks, B’endan,” she mumbled as she drifted off.
Just before she lost consciousness all together, she felt a hand run soothingly over her head and heard a soft reply, “Anytime.”
---
Freya shivered as the rain continued to pour down, and yet she made no move to go back inside the building. She couldn’t go back in there. Couldn’t face what she knew those voices would be saying. That this was her fault, that she should have been quicker, that three people, including a teenager, were dead because of her.
She couldn’t remember how long she’d been out here, standing in the rain and listening to it hit the pavement. She just couldn’t get those people out of her head. Two of them had been kidnappers, down as they fought back against the SWAT team, but the third had been one of the four kidnap victims, a thirteen-year-old girl named Susannah.
A thirteen-year-old girl’s life had been snuffed out because she hadn’t been quick enough, because she hadn’t -
Freya’s thoughts were abruptly cut off when she suddenly found herself shielded from the rain by an umbrella. Turning to her right, she found Brendan staring down at her solemnly.
“You can’t save them all, Freya,” he said softly.
Tears threatened and she turned away. “I should be able to save a child. If I can’t do that much, then why the hell am I here?”
She started to walk away, intending on going somewhere, anywhere, where she could be alone, but was brought to a halt when his hand grasped her arm. He pulled her back around to face him.
“Don’t do this to yourself, Freya,” Brendan ground out, his eyes stern. “If you go down that path, you’ll never make it back. It will drive you mad.”
Wouldn’t be the first time, a dim voice said in the back of her mind. That voice was quickly silenced, however, when he pulled her to him and held her close to his body. Freya stiffened briefly, but before she knew it, she felt her body sinking against his.
They stood together beneath an umbrella, her face buried in the folds of his coat. He stroked her back soothingly as she cried.
---
Laughter filled the large dance floor as people, adults and children alike, clapped to the beat of the music. Freya laughed with them as she left the floor and moved towards the table set aside for the wedding party. Brendan was sitting there eating what was probably his third piece of cake.
She flopped down into her chair next to him, still giggling as she grasped her glass and took a sip of the wine.
Brendan turned to look at her, smirking. “Having fun,” he asked amusedly.
Freya grinned. “More than I thought I would,” she replied. “Being Maid of Honor isn’t so bad once you finally get to this point. It’s only hell leading up to the wedding.”
He nodded and looked down at his piece of cake. Taking up a piece with his fork, he moved it over to her lips. “Open up,” he murmured.
She raised an eyebrow, but complied, letting him feed her the pastry bite. As she chewed, Freya closed her eyes and savored it. The baker had outdone himself.
They sat in a comfortable silence and finished off the cake together. Brendan then stood up and held a hand out to her, smiling. “Dance with me,” he said. “I think as your date I warrant at least one go on the dance floor.”
Freya didn’t hesitate to put her hand in his larger one and trustingly let him lead her out onto the floor just as the loud, fast-paced music faded into a slower, romantic tune. He pulled her close, and she rested her cheek against him with her arm settling loosely on his shoulder and around his neck. She smiled when he took her other hand and held it close to his chest as they began to sway to the music.
As they turned, Freya spotted June dancing with her new husband, Will Fieldman. She looked utterly content, but her eyes were fixed on her. Freya smiled at her, but when she felt Brendan brush his lips lightly on her head, all her thoughts went back to the man she was dancing with.
---
Freya woke slowly as she rolled over to her other side. Her hand reached out instinctively for the person she knew should be in the bed beside her -
- and found the bed empty.
Her eyes shot open and she sat up in the bed, looking around wildly. Her clothes from the previous night were still strewn about on the floor, but Brendan’s were nowhere to be found. Carefully, Freya got up and grabbed her robe, which lay in its usual position on the chair sitting cattycornered a few feet away from her. After putting it on and tying the belt, she left the room.
As soon as she stepped out into the hall, the smell of bacon hit her. Following her nose and relaxing at the same time, Freya made her way down the small spiral staircase and into the kitchen. There was Brendan in her kitchenette, intent on watching the bacon fry as he stirred several eggs together in a measuring cup.
“Well,” she said, “aren’t you full of surprises?”
He turned and looked at her, surprised. “You’re up?”
She nodded, suddenly feeling shy. “You weren’t there,” she told him.
Brendan winced. “Sorry, I just wanted to -”
“It’s okay,” she assured him, moving toward him. She smiled. “A girl can’t complain if a guy wants to make her breakfast in bed.” Her arms came up to wrap loosely around his neck and she stretched up to kiss him.
He returned the gesture, kissing her lightly, before turning back to the food. “Off with you,” he said mock-sternly. “Trust me; you don’t want burnt bacon and raw eggs for breakfast.”
Freya laughed and backed away. “I’ll go get changed then. I’m not exactly dressed for breakfast with company.”
“What are you wearing?”
She smiled wickedly. “Under the robe, you mean? Nothing.”
The sound of him fumbling with the fork and the bacon echoed behind her as she hurried back up the steps to her room.