Author's Note: I kept thinking it would be interesting for Chris to come back and see what has happened between Audrey and Nathan in his absence. I'm not sure we'll ever see Jason Priestley on Haven again, so I had to make up my own opportunity to be a fly on the wall, so to speak. So… this story was born from that. I wrote it in the same story strand as "Cold Feet," though it isn't necessary to have read "Cold Feet" in order to understand this one.
Disclaimer: No ownership of Haven is claimed. No profit is being made. Only fun. Lots of fun.
"Is this seat taken?"
Nathan looks up and quickly averts his gaze. As the expression goes, he needs this like he needs a hole in the head. Of course, he wouldn't feel that hole. But this—this gets to him in ways he doesn't like. Instead he feels a mixture of dread and trepidation, of annoyance and good old-fashioned territorialism. He doesn't want to share a bar or beer. He sure as hell doesn't want to share Audrey. "I figure you have your choice of where you want to sit."
The bearded man slides onto the barstool next to Nathan. "Unnatural adoration isn't all it's cracked up to be."
"Chris Brody," the female bartender sets aside what she's doing—mixing a drink for another customer—and immediately zeroes in on Nathan's companion. "It's such an honor to serve you."
"I know," Chris replies. He rolls his eyes, making no effort to camouflage his irritation.
The bartender finds his gruffness perfectly wonderful. "What can I get for you? Scotch? Martini?" She giggles nervously before adding, "Me?"
"Whatever beer you have on tap is fine," Chris grumbles, but the female never loses her doe-eyed idolization as she practically falls over herself to serve the perfect frothy ale. She passes it to Chris and sets her elbows on the bar, watching as he takes a drink.
"Go serve other customers."
"Anything to make you happy, Chris," she replies with a sigh. The bartender looks at Nathan and warns him, "I really like him. Be nice."
"People suck sometimes," the grumpy marine biologist comments as the bartender begrudgingly turns her attention to other customers, who seem equally enamored with him.
Nathan still doesn't look him in the eyes to avoid devolving into man-crush territory but chances a quick glance. "Yeah, they do."
"That was directed at me," Chris announces with brusque amusement.
"Yep." Nathan finds it impossible to outright hate Chris Brody, though he isn't sure if it's Brody's Trouble working on him or if he's just an enlightened guy who tries to be polite to everyone, even Parker's ex-boyfriend. On second thought, he's pretty damn sure it's Brody's Trouble.
"I take it Audrey told you what I did."
"It came up."
"I was a complete jackass. I should've trusted her to handle the situation."
"True."
"Being away, it's given me perspective. I want to make it up to her." He chuckles to himself. "Anyone else in the world, and I could make her forgive me."
"I don't think Audrey's holding a grudge."
Chris nearly chokes on his beer.
"What?" Nathan asks.
"You aren't going to tell me to stay away from her?" Chris replies in surprise.
"Audrey doesn't need me to run interference for her."
"But you'd prefer that I stay away."
Nathan doesn't say anything.
"You're tough to figure out. You called. The night she and I finally had our first date. For that matter, every time the phone rang when I was with her, it was you."
"She's my partner."
"When I see the two of you together, your voice changes, your expression softens. I'm a people watcher."
Nathan takes a swig from his bottled domestic beer. He's amazed that any man who spends time with Audrey could bear to look away from her long enough to notice anyone else in the room.
"She's more than my partner," Nathan admits.
"Ouch." Chris sucks in a breath. He's not entirely surprised. He and Audrey made no promises to each other when they parted ways months ago, but it would have gone a long way toward soothing his pride if Nathan would've told him that Audrey was pining away. "That explains so much. And opens the door to so many other questions."
"Not a conversation I'm having with you."
"But I'm trying to understand. You're numb, right? Idiopathic neuropathy or some other bullshit diagnosis. You're Troubled, like me. So how exactly does it work with the two of you?"
Nathan stares straight ahead.
Chris continues, "Audrey, for whatever reason, is immune to the effects of my Troubles. She's been immune to others' Troubles. But your Trouble is different. It doesn't affect others, only you." As he thinks aloud, he feels like he is on the verge of something.
"What's your point?"
"You can feel Audrey's touch," Chris realizes. "She's the only thing you can feel. This is…this is rich." He laughs wryly, and the sound jars Nathan's ears. "What's your secret?"
"What do you mean?"
"I'm afflicted. You're afflicted. Audrey didn't want to be my savior. Why is she willing to be yours?"
"I don't want her to be my savior," Nathan replies simply. "I just want her to be Audrey." He stops himself from elaborating. If he had never felt the softness of her skin, the silkiness of her hair, her body shaking with laughter—if he had never felt her lips against his or the warmth of her breath, he would still love her. He's not sure he can even adequately put his thoughts into words, but if he could, it wouldn't be Chris Brody he'd be sharing them with. It would be Audrey herself.
"But obviously she has an effect on your Trouble." Chris falls silent. When he and Audrey dated, Chris hadn't minded Nathan's obvious feelings for her, largely because in his view, Nathan's affliction made him the equivalent of a neutered dog. Sure, he might have urges, but what could he do about it?
"You need to leave it alone." Nathan's voice comes low, dangerous.
Chris recognizes the warning. No, Nathan isn't a neutered dog, and Chris is careful not to corner the other man. "Fair enough. I heard about what happened to her."
"How much do you know?" Nathan asks.
"I know she was kidnapped. I heard you found her on Kick-em-jenny-nick. Word is she doesn't remember how she got there or what happened while she was there. I want to help."
Distractedly, Nathan sets his bottle on the bar, improperly gauging the force of his action. The result is a loud clack as the glass hits the polished wood surface. "How exactly?"
"People tend to like me. Shocking, I know. Maybe I can parlay that into some answers."
"We'll call you if we need your…skills."
Chris shakes his head slightly. "Duke said you'd put me off."
"Duke. Figures," Nathan mutters. "What do you expect me to say? You have no law enforcement training."
"You and Audrey didn't have problems using my skills before," Chris points out. Getting roped into helping Lori Futcher channel her electricity was not exactly his choice. For that matter, neither was helping Beverly Keegan and Dom Novelli reunite after a long separation. But his skills were useful then. Using them certainly beat getting ripped apart by giant roots. Why wouldn't they be useful now?
"This is different," Nathan insists.
"Right. Because you want to be the hero."
"Is that what you think? That this is a pissing contest?" Nathan asks incredulously.
"It's occurred to me," Chris replies evenly. "She's a…," he searches for the right words before settling on, "…remarkable woman."
Nathan doesn't look at Chris, but he can imagine the expression the shorter man must be wearing. Satisfaction. Smugness. Immediately, there's a part of him that feels ashamed for thinking badly about a wonderful man like Chris Brody.
Nathan almost gags from the warm, fuzzy thoughts that unwittingly invade his mind.
The odd adoration is replaced by the larger part of Nathan that briefly wishes he wasn't employed in law enforcement. He would love to properly express his opinion of Brody's self-importance, preferably with a well-thrown fist.
For Audrey's sake, he bites back what he would like to say. "You've been around here long enough to know that there's more than meets the eye. Stay out of it."
Chris laughs. "I was wrong about you, Wuornos. You are running interference."
The voice, familiar in its harshness, makes Audrey stiffen. Strange how it seems to rise over all the others, almost piercing her ears. It is the same voice that uttered the words she thought she wanted to hear. I want you, Audrey, because you're you.
And as she walks closer to the bar, she sees a sight that makes her stomach churn. Nathan and Chris. And the only thought she can fully form is, 'That sucks.'
"Do I want to know?" She approaches the men and interrupts their conversation. She doesn't sound as tentative as she feels.
"Probably not," Nathan replies. His voice softens when he speaks to her, that tone reserved for only her. Immediately some of the apprehension Audrey feels flees from her.
She studies her ex-lover. "Chris. When did you get back?" She hopes she sounds conversational and not awkward, but she doubts she is successful.
Chris stands and presses a quick kiss to her cheek. "Audrey, it's good to see you." She cringes slightly, he notices, so he doesn't wait for her to return the sentiment. "I got back this morning. Had to handle some things from my dad's estate."
"Oh." It's not an eloquent response, but Audrey Parker's memories haven't exactly prepared her for this situation. And if she lived through something similar in one of her past incarnations, it isn't ringing a bell.
"Turns out the state of Maine frowns upon awarding an estate to the deceased's murderer," Chris explains.
"I've heard." She looks to Nathan. "Are you about ready to head out of here?"
"Have what you need from upstairs?" Nathan asks.
She reaches out and takes his hand. "I have everything that I need."
Her words and actions are simple but mean everything to Nathan. He runs his thumb over the back of her hand, the hint of a smile upon his lips.
"Good luck with everything," Audrey says politely to Chris.
Chris looks from Audrey to Nathan and back to Audrey again. "Right. Have fun, you crazy kids. I'll just stay here. Finish my beer. Get hit on by beautiful women." He shrugs. "Probably a few men, too."
"Try not to break too many hearts."
Audrey's words are casual, glib. There's not even the hint of regret or wistfulness. And it hits Chris that he has zero chance with her.
Maintaining his own casual stance, he replies, "No promises. My track record isn't exactly stellar."
Are we okay? That's what Audrey wants to ask when she and Nathan reach the Gull's parking lot. Instead, she falls back to old habits: ribbing. "Please don't tell me you're all gooey for Chris." Her tone is teasing, but there is an undercurrent of something more serious.
"Not quite."
"Good, because if he turns into my competition, I'm going to be really pissed."
He opens the passenger door of the Bronco for her, a small act reserved for their off-duty hours. It's another one of those things she's noticed him do that they've never talked about. It's an old-fashioned gesture, but she likes it.
His eyes meet hers. "There's no competition."
"You're right. There's not." And the kiss she gives him before climbing into the vehicle lets Nathan know exactly where they stand.
the end
