"Oh, I can tell," Charlie assured him with absolute confidence.
"No, you can't," Toby scoffed. "It's not like I need to close my eyes and hum in order to do it, it just happens automatically. And unless it's really shocking," Toby said, swiveling around in the desk chair he currently occupied, "my expression doesn't change at all."
Charlie shrugged nonchalantly and continued to peruse the open file on her desk. "And I'm telling you that I can tell when you're reading my mind."
"How?"
"I just can."
Toby paused mid-swivel and narrowed his eyes slightly, focusing on Charlie's face. She spared him a slight glance before turning back to her papers with a slight smirk. "You're not doing it."
Toby released a disappointed breath, intrigued despite himself. "And what makes you think that?" he asked interestedly.
Charlie rolled her eyes in annoyance, but the corners of her mouth twitched. "Toby, I'm working here," she said. "If you haven't got anything useful for me, leave."
"Not until you tell me what gives me away," Toby said, leaning forward and resting his elbows on her desk. "Come on, how can you tell?"
Her only response was a slight shake of her head. "Come on," Toby persisted, lowering his voice persuasively. "This could be super important in a case at some point… when I'm getting information from some big dangerous criminal… and – and if he figures out that I'm reading his mind, then he'll stop thinking important stuff… or he could shoot me! Come on, Charlie, you wouldn't want to get me killed now, would you?" His eyes widened and he produced one of the most endearing smiles he possessed. The one he used on Olivia every time he wanted to get back in her bed. It didn't seem to work as well on Charlie. Toby liked that about her.
True to form, Charlie's reaction to the gorgeous grin directed her way was a raised eyebrow, feigned contemplation, and then a shrug. "Go ahead, get shot. Then maybe you'll stick to your job and leave me to mine."
Toby sat back in his chair, wounded. "Ah, Charlie, you don't really mean that. What would you do without me?"
"Actually, I can cope just fine without you," Charlie said, and for the first time in their conversation, genuine annoyance tinged her words. "I am a quite competent detective on my own."
"I'm not doubting that, Charlie, of course you are," Toby said reassuringly.
A silence settled over Charlie's desk for a few moments, punctuated by the voices and clatter of the various other officers in the room.
Charlie was reading one of the pages in her file and taking notes on a legal pad next to it. Toby watched her for a moment, then glanced at his watch. Shoot, he was going to be late for his shift. It was definitely time to dash, but as usual, he felt quite reluctant to part company with his favorite detective. Unable to resist a final attempt at Charlie's secret, he spoke up once more.
"How do you know when I'm reading your mind?"
"Go away."
" I'm going. How can you tell?"
Charlie sighed in exasperation and looked up from her papers at the dark haired paramedic who was now standing over her. She studied him for a moment, her gaze resting on his brilliantly blue eyes, which were currently wide with curiosity. As her eyes met his, his pupils pooled outwards - just a tiny, little bit - casting a twinkle in his eyes.
Charlie bit her lip, repressing a grin. She wasn't a mind reader, but she was a damn good body language reader, and she knew exactly what that little reaction meant.
"You're the mind reader. Figure it out," she said, turning her attention back to her papers. She knew exactly what his next move would be. Charlie pretended to focus on her file as she waited for the reaction that was about to be elicited.
Three… two… one.
"Oh, no! Oh no you didn't just – what the – Charlie Marks, you are unbelievable!" Toby sputtered, his mouth open in a combination of disbelief and admiration.
It took no small amount of self control for Charlie not to look up from her papers, but she succeeded, and her, "I told you I would know when you read my mind," was mild and unaffected.
Toby remained standing in place for a moment longer. He studied the dark-haired woman in front of him, his open-mouthed expression having morphed into an incredulous grin.
I gotta take this woman to dinner.
He lifted his knapsack from Charlie's desk and made his way towards the glass doors and the street beyond, glancing back as he pushed the doors open. Charlie was still bent over her work, but her shoulders were shaking in silent laughter. Toby smirked, stepped out into the chilly street, and set off for the hospital at a brisk pace.
It turned out to be a busy day, filled with two asthma attacks, one cardiac arrest, and various broken limbs.
And just as she'd intended, throughout it all, that damn song had played incessantly in Toby's head.
It's a small
world, after all
It's a small world, after all
It's a small
world, after all
It's a small, small, world…
