Counting the Lines
I do not own the characters. I just borrowed them for the purpose of non-profit fanfiction.
Many thanks to klswhite who helped me with the first steps and added the final touches.
All the mistakes are mine.
Laura silently cursed - why exactly is she doing this on her day off? She generally enjoyed her scientific work and likes publishing her results. She had intended to finish her latest paper soon but now the deadline had been brought forward to Monday, forcing her to cancel her plans for today.
After a few hours of work, the text only needed minor changes, the word processing programme counting the words and lines automatically.
She looks over at Robbie. He has dozed off, sprawled over the sofa. Some old James Bond movie playing on the TV. The view makes her smile, sleep takes years off him. On the other hand ... she should really wake her couch potato, go out and have a walk in the cool autumn air together.
While she tries to focus on the final version of her text, images of Robbie's face dance through her mind. Her earliest memory is of an honest, friendly face, smiling, looking younger than his actual age.
Her attention is drawn back to him as he lets out a soft snore but doesn't move. She lets her mind wander to a kaleidoscope of images all of Robbie Lewis.
The images flit through her mind marking the years passing, all the times she has worked with him on parade. Sad and cruel cases, nothing to smile about. A solemn facial expression is required in their line of work. Robbie has this special scene-of-crime-face which only changes when he turns to her or James to reply to a sharp remark or macabre joke.
Another image as he had solemnly asked her if she had a few moments to talk. His head bent, hands deep in his pockets, shoulders rolled forward, eyelids drooping a bit, but the corners of his mouth were slightly turned upwards. And still he looked like a worried Shar-Pei. His face is a net of fine lines and creases. Although he is so much taller than she is, it feels as if he were looking up at her.
The man on the sofa lets out a little huff. In sleep all of the lines are concealed. He looks more like the earnest young man she had met all these years ago.
Laura's next picture is Robbie angry. He hardly ever shows it when he is angry. Annoyed - yes, that happens quite frequently, grumpy even. But sometimes there are two distinct elevations above and between the eyebrows, deep vertical creases between the brows and horizontal furrows on his forehead, eyes staring. His hairline has receded a bit over the years, leaving even more space for a deep frown. He only makes that face when he is well and truly angry.
She knows the English and Latin names of every muscle involved. She can give the scientific explanation about the effect each single nerve or muscle has. Still she wonders about the human face - how does all this work so perfectly together? How do those same muscles which reflect the rare times he is angry also show such compassion, love?
Asleep, Robbie is totally oblivious of the fact that his face has become a matter of scientific interest.
Laura has noticed that the expressions he uses most often have left the deepest traces. Worry, sorrow and grief seem to have formed a landscape, his face is pre-set to "serious-neutral". The story of his life is engraved in his skin. Every movement, every change in the interplay of these lines has a meaning. Sometimes they are hardly there. When Robbie's eyes are directed at some invisible point in the distance, Laura knows that he is in full thinking mode.
The man on the sofa lets out a little snuffle ...
Laura has learnt to read the lines. And she knows how to read between the lines. Sometimes she thinks of them as letters, these are easy to read. And sometimes they are like Egyptian hieroglyphs or Sumerian cuneiform script - unreadable, beyond the understanding of anyone who only has a short look at Robbie. She has made a study of these expressions over the years, thoroughly. She has filed them all in her heart.
Laura's favourite version of his face is one she has discovered only recently, one she had never seen on him before. It's much more than just friendly ... When he is holding her tenderly, looking down at her. Eyebrows relaxed, furrows disappear - lines and creases nearly gone, all edges softened, eyes bright ...
THUMP. The remote control has dropped to the floor.
Robbie opens his eyes and blinks at Laura, giving her a boyish smile.
"Hmmm?" he makes this noise sound like a question.
"Nothing..."
"I can feel you staring at me ... what is it?""
A quick shake of her head, a smile. Laura waves her hand in the vague direction of the laptop screen. "Just counting ... counting the lines."