A Kellynch LLC Holiday Party
A/N: I own nothing, and this isn't beta read.
It wasn't actually a small room, but you couldn't convince Frederick of that.
His mind reduced the 300 casual acquaintances to a few sources of cover, their sole purpose being to provide momentary relief from the pain inflicted by her presence. Anne's eyes found him with haunting precision, which would have been pleasing had her face betrayed any hint of weakness or self doubt. Benwick was a welcome distraction.
"So Benwick, who was your victim in the gift exchange?" Frederick's voice cracked in the effort of resuming conversation. Benwick's sidelong glance was the only sign of suspicion before condescending to distract his friend.
"Louisa, from marketing. Though I don't know why you'd assume she'll dislike my gift, Freddy. Plenty of people enjoy poetry."
"Plenty of people enjoy a funny haiku or lymeric. Fewer of them read the Iliad on the weekend." Frederick rose his glass to his mouth with studied calm. Anne had shifted from her position in the corner of his left eye, drifting in her unassuming way across the room to dump out a beverage and join a new cluster of coworkers almost behind Benwick. "I was tasked with providing a gift for Mary - do you think she'll enjoy the encyclopedia of home remedies for chronic allergies?"
Benwick chortled with rye humor. "You'll only get away with that because she's still thankful that you brought her a drink at the last happy hour. Anybody who knows you better would know it wasn't intended to be thoughtful." Frederick allowed himself a small smirk as they fell into companionable quiet. The peace was brief, disrupted by the loud whispering of the group nearby.
"You don't get it Anne, I know at least five couples that would disprove your attitude." An older gentleman gently shook the woman's shoulder, somehow conveying sincerity amidst his jovial tone. "It's not all doomed to fade away, you're too young to be that resigned." Her smile was warm, if small, in response.
"I'm sure we're both a bit biased Mr. Croft. Hopefully I'm wrong, I'd have no problem with that. Yet in my experience, even the deepest connection fades once one is distracted with the exciting world beyond their doorstep. It's not wrong, it's just human nature." At the Croft shook his head sadly, his wide, knobbly hand on her shoulder now to comfort her.
"Freddy, what's the scowl for? I'm sorry if that's not fair, maybe you were thinking of Mary's interests. Either way don't take it out on that drink, I'm sure it's not worth the drama of shattered glass." Frederick's gaze jolted back to Benwick's face, realizing Ben noticed his wandering attention. "You know," Benwick started cautiously, "it sounds like she remembers it differently from how you've always described it." Frederick's eyes widened, Benwick must have been eavesdropping as well. "Didn't you say she dumped you? That she wouldn't do expat placement with you?"
"Yes," Frederick bit out, soft and sour. That familiar acidic feeling flooded up from his diaphragm, tempting him to throw his drink and find a dark corner to hide the ugly tinge in his eyes. He watched her baldly now, resentful of her elegant resignation. So this older, jaded Anne, the reliable cornerstone of their department, was telling herself some tale where she had been tossed away in the face of some exciting future? That her lover had grown indifferent? His free hand was getting sore - Frederick had to forcibly relax it from its white-knuckle grip. Bennick was quickly becoming nervous at the storm expression on his friends face.
"You might talk to her later, once a few of the senior folks leave for the night. You know she got a ride with Mary, and Mary always stays till last call. God forbid she miss out on even a single moment of fun." 'There, that got his attention,' Benwick thought to himself. 'Maybe they'll stop this ridiculous dance finally.'
Frederick's expression had returned to a careful neutrality, his attention finally focused on the moment at hand. "Perhaps, Ben. Not a bad idea."
Anne had been trying to speak as softly as possible to Mr. Croft. The best course of action would have been to just nod and smile as he related the bitter feelings surrounding his friend's new engagement, but the tale resonated with her own struggles of love lost that she found the words spilling from her lips unbidden. It felt right to give words to her struggle after months of facing its subject.
Frederick had returned from his expat assignment three months ago.
The familiar halls of their shared department were flooded now with adoring commentary, excited glances, confident hope for the future. He'd done a good job in Europe, setting the company up for years of profitable projects. Gone was the eager-to-please greenhorn she'd met years ago - in his place was an experienced agent and actor.
The first few weeks, she didn't know what to expect. Anne just held her breath, waiting for his eyes to meet hers. It took four days, but when Frederick finally spoke to her his tone was a cold slap. 'Miss Elliot, we won't need you in this afternoon's meeting.' Her body shook with instinctive fury, which quickly faded into a shudder of shame. He'd never forgive her, never. The year of passion when they'd first met was worth nothing in the face of her refusal to become his tag-along during his expat assignment.
Well, Anne could adapt. 'I am a grown woman, I am in charge of my destiny, and this will give me the closure I need to move forward.'
Luckily most of her coworkers had forgotten about their romance years ago - Mary and Elizabeth were the only associates that remained from so long ago, and both had been far more interested in their own intrigues at the time. The only variable she couldn't predict was Benwick, who'd joined the company with Frederick at that time. He was far out of her control however, so Anne breathed deeply and presented herself in as calm a fashion as possible.
Calm, except there he was. At every angle, Frederick stood there. Especially tonight, at the holiday party. His demeanor was charming in the way he had always been with those he'd given little thought to. The lopsided smile that dimpled his cheek, and subtle hand gestures which complimented his anecdotes. Anne did her best to focus on the company at hand, but despite her best efforts the dialog repeatedly dried up forcing her to drift around the room looking for better mooring. Mr. Croft presented no risk of evaporating into silence. There was however a different challenge - his interests were only of the tender, vulnerable subjects he know Anne was capable of handling with utmost delicacy. She let her eyes drift hazily as she spoke in vague theoretical terms. Perhaps she spoke now of a hypothetical lover, but her words drew from that vivid memory.
Frederick had pulled her into a conference room, just as she was striding towards the door. She'd giggled, knowing the firm grip of his hand on her waist.
'Anne,' his voice sing-songed softly. The door closed with a quiet 'snick.' He settled her in a roller chair, and she was able to focus again briefly to adjust to the dim grey light of a cloudy dusk outside and the musty, sterile odor of the room. Frederick settled himself in a chair next to her, pulling her close so their knees jigsawed together. His hands caressed her bare forearms, shaking. Noticing his edgy excitement, she stared into his eyes looking for guidance.
'Fred, what's going on? You're about to bounce out of your skin.' He licked his lips, exhaling forcefully before speaking in a measured tone.
'Anne, they're moving me to Europe. I've been asked to scout the market. It's a five year placement.' He paused for a heartbeat before continuing on, not allowing the absence of a reaction on her face deter him from what he'd been so afraid to ask. 'I got permission to relocate anyone I needed to bring. Will you come?' There he stopped, afraid to wheedle or beg and appear weak.
'Relocate… anyone you need? As in, a resource from here?' He bit his lip at her question, knowing she'd spotted the fine print. 'Well, no, not a company resource. You would be on your personal time.' She stiffened at this. He was asking her to quit, abandon her own career trajectory. He sensed her distress. 'I know it's only getting close to a year for us, that it's a big jump, but won't you trust me?'
Anne met his eyes, and watched them change. One moment, they were open, beguiling. The next clouded, distant and cold.
That look, at least, had not changed. Over the last three months she'd observed that it was not his only expression, that for others he had warmth and charm. But it had taken a major emergency at the office, a supply disaster which had only barely been averted, for him to look at her with anything other than distaste. She'd managed to cover for young Louisa, Frederick's protege, and he'd looked at her then as though she was a mystery.
Mr. Croft did not notice Anne's introspection. He did notice, however, that her advice and sympathy had been tainted by her own disappointment. Mollified by her admission of bias, he offered a final attempt to comfort. "Miss Anne, you do a credit to us all." He steered her then towards the table to replace the drink she'd abandoned early in the night. Drained from the unexpected emotional detour, Anne detached and found a quiet corner of the room. Mary was flitting about, invigorated by the sheer presence of people. Anne sighed, knowing she would either be stuck until the early hours of the morning or subject to what would be an expensive cab ride. Her beverage now was stronger than she'd have chosen, and the hour slid by in mild conversation and dimming lights.
The tenor of the party had changed. Bright lights had faded into dim mood lighting and dancing beats. People had swarmed the center of the room to jostle with movement, suitably awkward for the community. Frederick and Benwick had been chatting with Louisa, Benwick attempting to be coy as the young woman dropped knowing hints that she'd identified her Secret Santa.
Frederick excused himself, drifting with the tide to his destination. Anne did not appear to notice his approach, but then her eyes were drifting closed as she watched the dancers. "Anne, you're going to fall asleep here if you wait for Mary to be ready." His voice was lower than he'd intended, not as soft and casual as he would have liked.
Her head swerved to meet his gaze, betraying her slight inebriation. "Fred. You're right, of course. I'll likely take a cab once I've had some time to process this last glass. Have you… have you had an enjoyable evening?" Frederick watched as she swallowed sharply, her eyes avoiding direct connection and instead resting on what he suspected was his chin. His traitorous heart hoped her eyes were resting on his lips, but he knew her. He knew the corners of her lips were pulled down in mourning, that should she raise her eyes to his they would shine with a mixture of defiance and repentance.
"It's a well done party. I'm about to take a cab myself, would you like to split one?" He blushed, hearing an echo of their past in the question.
"Would you like to split a cab?" Fred leaned on one arm, blocking in the blushing creature. "I think we live in the same neighborhood, Anne."
"You know we don't Fred." Anne smirked up at him, "But I don't like cabs, so I'd appreciate some company on the ride."
He attempted to wrap her hand around his arm as they tilted from the bar, but she subverted him. Only by sheer determination did he manage to keep his fingers entwined with hers until their momentum was arrested. They found themselves in the cold evening the taxi still minutes away. He brushed her arm, "Can I keep you warm?" She nodded, stepping into the circle of his arms. Frederick chafed her back and arms, reveling at the feeling of her breath on his neck. His arms slowed and gathered strength, applying careful pressure. Anne looked up at him, her soft smile the answer to his question. She kissed his chin. Her lips were cold at first, but when the taxi arrived with a disruptive honk they were warm and tingling with attention.
Perhaps she heard the past echo as well, but she did not blush. She did not meet his gaze. Instead, Anne sighed and answered "That sounds like a plan, Fred."
Safely ensconced in the back of the cab, en route to Anne's apartment, Fred took his chance.
"You can't think that I'm actually over you, Anne. You'd have to be blind to think that." Anne started, taking a few moments before her hands curled around her elbows, tightening into the fabric of her coat.
"Sorry Fred, I thought that was exactly what I was supposed to think." 'Ah, anger. I can work with that,' Fred thought.
"It's not your fault, I was that blind for a while too." He fought to keep his voice level, a losing battle. "But then I realized I was just angry, still angry." She huffed a laugh. He heard her mutter 'Go figure' under her breathe and turned to face her, demanding that she finally meet his gaze. "I heard you tonight, heard you say that its only natural for love to fade. Well you're wrong, it doesn't fade. It didn't. It never will." He felt the words pushing out of him like a deluge, unable to be reigned in or edited.
Her eyes softened. Her hand found his. When she found her voice, it was shaky. "I can't tell you I regret the choice I made then. But the choice I would make now would be different." Her eyes were shining with tears. Frederick pulled his hand from hers, dragging it up her arm to trail up her neck, cradling her jaw and threading into the nape of her neck. He pulled her across the forced space between them until his lips could rasp against hers.
Benwick turned to Louisa once Frederick and Anne had left the room. "Thank god, that's finally over. They're both terrible fakers."
Louisa tittered. "I guess Fred forgot he'd carved all those things into bathroom stalls at the pub. "