Just a little Zaedah contribution to the Hundred Challenge. More to follow.
Special thanks to TVChick08 for creating such inspirational fodder!
A History of Here
(048Whisper)
The first time she'd heard it, there was promise.
"Not here," his voice whispering want when she leaned closer, her intention plain.
His office was lit only by the half moon but she could see the words hadn't been easy to speak. This genesis of physical expression was a new wrinkle in their complicated history. Still, he held back only for lack of proper location. So she didn't worry.
Not here meant somewhere.
………….
Somewhere had involved his couch an hour later. Physical expression took on a host of forms, all of which would have suggested they'd done this since the day they'd met. No skirting the edges of contact. No pulling away out of duty or protection. He was very much here. And she was very much gone. Until the ringing phone halted progression into dangerous waters.
………….
The second time she'd heard it, there was chastisement.
"Not here," his voice whispering warning as he cast a gaze around them.
A long week of slow success cost them several lives, losses that weighed on her only half as much as him. As team leader, he took failure hard and the distance that followed was not unexpected. But her lips could bridge the gap. They sought his in a lamp-lit corner of the NIH parking lot. They were denied.
Not here meant hiding.
………….
Hiding had involved a pint of water ice, staving off the heat of the night and the fire his rejection hadn't doused. Reluctant to answer the persistent knock at the door, Natalie waited an hour to let him in. Just knowing he'd stayed that long for her crafted an immediate forgiveness. They didn't discuss public displays of affection. It wasn't necessary now. She'd told herself discretion was the key to this man and she'd have to respect that to keep him
………….
The third time she'd heard it, there was scolding.
"Not here," his voice whispering rebuke of her advance.
But she'd needed him so badly at that moment, here in this lab. Surrounded by fatal data and death-on-a-slide, his touch would have made this devastating diagnosis bearable. Of course he wouldn't put their secret relationship on exhibit. Especially in the middle of a case.
Not here meant professionalism.
………….
Professionalism had involved lies by omission. In massive quantities. Because the she was often asked about her evening plans. Or the hickey that fooled no one by its 'bruise' label. Or the glances he gave that a third knowing eye would catch. They were on the cusp of obvious and he was fighting it to the point of ending it. Ending them before they'd begun. Because the job and the boss and the team and the world expected professionals to remain so in private hours.
………….
The fourth time she'd heard it, there was gallantry.
"Not here," his voice whispering cautious urgency inside Detroit's largest transport.
Not here, but somewhere. Hiding was forgone and professionalism was blurred. His insistent pull on her arm told her not here would no longer act as an excuse. And they kissed their way out of the car, across the grass, up the stairs and into his bed. Finally. The genesis of physical expression turned the page to revelation. And their complicated history untangled into a straight line of Here.
Not here meant everywhere.