A/N: I started writing this right after watching 1x03, but kept forgetting to finish it. And now, six episodes later, these two seem to be right back where they were. Anything recognizable does not belong to me. Thanks for reading!
Of Peace Offerings and Bad Timing
She steps off the elevator with conviction. But, as her red-lacquered sole makes contact with the immaculate floor, she feels her confidence waver.
She wants to turn back around and just make a run for it.
She almost does.
She stands outside the door to his apartment for an entire three minutes – contemplating her apology – before sighing and making a move to knock.
The door opens.
Her eyes meet his grey ones; the welcome contact prompting her next statement – one of gratitude:
"Thank you – for the other night."
The sentiment behind her words runs even deeper.
Thank you for being there.
Thank you for listening.
His response is light and meant to comfort. And it does – there is no sharp edge to his words and his tone does anything but sting – the soothing timbre of his 'after hours' voice putting her at ease, reminding her of a different time.
As he listens to Hayes go on, Conner finds sincerity in her gaze and resignation in her body language. He watches as some of the evident discomfort dissipates. He continues to take her in – this woman who is completely unaware of how brilliant she is; of the difference she can make in this city. If only she just stops fighting everything. And everyone.
(The same woman who broke them years ago. The one who then left him to pick up the pieces and rummage through the scattered debris.)
She apologizes for the case.
She apologizes for Chicago.
He accepts her olive branch.
He accepts her truce.
Understanding passes between them – each acknowledging the exchange for what it is.
Conner wants them to be on the same page – to clear the air – and move forward. And Hayes standing here at his door, he recognizes it for what it is – a win. It's not one, but two steps in the right direction.
When he thanks her, it's in earnest and he means each word. His eyes are on her and hers are doing their best to avoid his.
He smiles.
Because this is Hayes Morrison.
Because this is the Hayes he remembers. The woman who occasionally haunts him when he closes his eyes and thinks of what could have been – what nearly was.
Because before the events of Chicago left a bitter taste in his mouth, there was a time when he couldn't possibly see himself anywhere else – couldn't see himself with anyone else.
However, Conner doesn't entertain those thoughts for long – knows better. He doesn't make it a habit to let his mind wander – his position just doesn't afford him the time.
But, he's also only human.
He doesn't question his decision. He doesn't regret his choice. He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that she'd excel at the helm of his new unit – his legacy.
And thus far, she has done just that. She has been exactly what the CIU has needed. Her methods may be unconventional and her defiance exhausting, but she crosses every single 't' and makes sure to dot each 'i' – even if it's only to "stick it to the man."
(He knows that's not really the case though. Hayes cares – she always has. She just plays indifference well.)
Besides, the opportunity to go toe to toe with Hayes, even just professionally – to see her squirm a little, navigating uncharted territory – he wasn't about to turn that down either. Theirs has always been a dynamic of extremes – a dance of jab and thrust – a tango of a tantalizing sort. The sparring and loaded banter is what stoked their rivalry. It's also what fuels their inextinguishable flame.
That kind of chemistry isn't manufactured. It can't be bottled and given a neat little label.
It is volatile, however.
This he knows for a fact.
And yet, he'd be lying if he said it didn't turn him on.
More importantly, he still cares – deeply. When it comes to Hayes Morrison, Conner Wallace harbours a myriad of emotions. And there is one in particular that downright terrifies him.
For that reason – in this moment – he doesn't want her to get the wrong impression. The good girl image is precisely what the media wants – what her mother's campaign needs. The 'new' Hayes Morrison – the whole wild party girl reformed bit – the public will eat that up.
Absolutely.
But–
"I'm still pretty fond of the old one," he can't help but entreat, as he surveys her retreating figure – a painfully familiar sight.
Because after all, he's only human.
His words wrap around her – a welcome breeze in the midst of blistering heat. She appreciates that this is his peace offering – his attempt at rewind and reset.
She may have turned down his first invitation, but she doesn't give Conner the chance to officially extend a second one.
Pivoting on her three inch heel, her gaze locks onto his – and as ridiculous as it sounds, she senses something shift in the air. Looking into those eyes, she almost feels like she's home. And it's all the encouragement she needs, because before she realizes it, she's launched herself into his arms, her lips crashing against his.
And as Conner backs her in to his apartment, her mind is inundated – a flood of repressed thoughts and mangled emotions. It all comes back to her. The way his lips brush against hers; the way they move – slowly at first, not wanting to overwhelm. And then with a hunger needing to be sated, as his teeth nip at her bottom lip, his tongue seeking entry.
She parts her lips.
He hums his approval and further demonstrates it by tightening his grip.
And there, in that moment – in the middle of Conner Wallace's apartment – Hayes simply lets go. Simply lets herself feel.
Until a shrill ringing interrupts, that is.
They say timing is everything.
Hayes and Conner's has never been any good.
In fact, things might just go tick, tock, BOOM.
fin