#1 LOOK OVER HERE
"Frankie, do you think you could…."
Boyd pauses a moment in the doorway, waiting for acknowledgement but Frankie doesn't even look up. 'Frankie….?' He tries again but gets the same lack of response. He feels a flash of anger: her defiance and insolence crawls under his skin.
"FRANKIE!"
"Boyd." Her tone is heavy – exasperated – and she still doesn't look up. He is reminded of a mother whose child is interrupting something important to ask for the tenth time why the sky is blue. Her attitude only fuels his irritation and he digs his nails into his palms as he struggles to quell his anger. "I said…"
"I heard what you said. Well, what you started to say: you finished mid-sentence. Could I….what?" Finally she looks up, fixing her eyes on him for barely a second before turning back to the desk.
He forces another deep breath.
"I got this from Jackson's flat. I think it's his, but if you could check it, just to be on the safe side?"
"Put it over there." She gestures vaguely across the room, continuing to squint into the telescope before her. He can't help but wonder what's so fascinating under the eye piece that she can't break from looking at it, even to check where she's waving.
Seeing an opportunity, he follows her instruction exactly, dropping the bag at the spot she'd indicated. The evidence bag hits the floor with a loud clang, and he feels a flush of satisfaction as her head shoots up.
"Boyd, what the hell?"
He wonders if the possible damage to the evidence is worth it, just to see the flash of anger in her eyes when they meet his. She mutters something about him being a prick, but doesn't move to retrieve the bag.
"Had you torn yourself away from the telescope for even a moment, Frankie, you would have known that you were gesturing at mid air."
He crosses his arms as he speaks: self-righteous and proud of it. Unsurprisingly this fails to impress her and she scowls back at him. "Well, I was busy."
"Right, if you say so."
He turns on his heel and heads for the door, leaving the evidence bag lying on the floor, its contents shimmering silver under the strip lights.
"Boyd, the bag!"
He smirks as he turns round slowly - drawing it out, enjoying acting the child role she'd apparently assigned him. "The bag, Frankie?"
He looks down at it on the floor and takes a step back. Incredulous, she swears at him. 'Fuck, what are you, ten? For Christ's sake!"
She pounces from her seat and is in front of him in a second; mumbling angrily under her breath as she bends to fetch the bag. 'You're such a child, I can't believe…' When she rises back upright, she meets his gaze with a furious expression and anger seeping from her pores.
The whole kiss is over in a second.
One minute he's smirking; chest thrust out - immaturely pompous - and then he's leaning forwards. His lips are on hers – lightly, barely – and then he's smirking again.
"Don't ignore me."