Note: I do not own anything OUAT related. This is a soft little ficlet for all of those GQ shippers who have had a rough week and need a little moment to relax.
Heavy clouds opened in the night sky, releasing heavy raindrops down onto the Hyperion Heights residents. Detective Weaver being one of those as he quickly ducked out from the dry confines of his vehicle and darted through the downpour into the building across the street. Wiping his feet onto a filthy mat before shrugging off his coat, giving it a good shake or two. Once done, he threw it over his shoulder and ascended the stairs up.
The week had taken a toll on Weaver's body, so he set to take it out on someone else. Just in a healthy way. He stuck the key he had secretly copied into the lock of Roni's one bedroom apartment. Once the lock clicked, he turned the knob and let himself in. Instantly ridding himself of his boots at the door, making sure to set them aside so when she came in she wouldn't trip over them. The delectable scent of her wafted through the hair. Inhaling greedily, he shut the door behind him as he stepped further into her space. It felt wrong to be inside of these walls while she wasn't here, dirty even. But he pushed on anyway. Eyes washing over the furniature she had chosen to decorate the space she would come home to every night.
The tone was warm, much like the inside of her bar. Scattered with little decorations the likes of which would never be seen in a high rise or uptown home. He liked it. Every bit of it as it was unapologetic. Completely that of the woman he had come to know so well through their little intimate moments together. Regardless of how messy, rough or passionate.
He sauntered toward the kitchen area rather quickly due to the open floor plan of the space. Dropping his coat along the counter. He fiddled with her coffee machine before he took to opening her cabinets and drawers, peering into the small insights that held her everyday life. Once he was content with his findings, he opened her refrigerator. Grimacing at the takeout containers and lack of actual food. She had more cereal than she did anything and yet no milk to go along with it. He shit the refrigerator door with a huff.
Turning on his heel, he made his way into her bedroom. The scent felt heavier in here, almost as if she were laying in her bed. But she wasn't. Making his way over to her nightstand, he took a seat on her bed and opened the drawer. He found a few things he expected as well as a couple he wouldn't have. Like a small notebook, with ideas scribbled in it from what he guessed had been before she made her dream bar a reality. Then a couple of mints, a few hair ties, a pair of reading glasses, an almost used up tube of lipstick and tissues. Closing the drawer, he laid back onto the soft mattress. His fingers running along the material of her comforter, taking in the image of her laying here at the end of her long work days. Relaxing. His own muscles did the same, allowing him to push away the aches and pains of his stressful week and just take in the essence of Roni. Inhaling deeply, he closed his eyes. And without meaning to, he drifted off into sleep.
—
Roni sighed as she pushed the key into her lock, turning the knob only to find she had locked it instead. Finally unlocking it, she pushed the door open, searching the confines of the space quickly. Wondering who had come inside or if she had forgotten to lock it in the first place. It wouldn't be anything new to her, having left in a rush this morning. Her eyes locked on the leather jacket draped over her kitchen counter. Relaxing, she made her way through the entrance and shut the door behind her.
This was a surprise indeed. Weaver rarely made visits unannounced like this let alone ever to her apartment. Especially with her work hours being as they were. Removing her shoes, she made her way into the bedroom, fingers tugging the shirt loose from the waist band of her jeans. Her movements halted as she took in the view before her. It wasn't what she had expected. Instead of a dark eyed, heavy with want lidded gaze and a scowl on his face Weaver. No. That had been replaced by the soft vision of a man who worked far too hard and far too long during crazy hours.
Weaver was laying on top of her bed, without any blankets covering his fully clothed form, eyes closed deep in slumber. Sighing a sound of soft content, she walked closer to him. Taking the throw from the end of her bed into her arms. She laid down beside of him, draping the blanket over their bodies. He stirred, glancing in her direction before reaching up to switch off the lamp. Once the bedroom had been engulfed in slight darkness, he pulled her to him. Her face nuzzling softly against the curve of his neck as his arms held her close. "You need to start turning off your lights before you leave. The bill is going to be through the roof."
She chuckled at his attempt to avoid the soft moment they were sharing. Considering how unlike them it felt like it was, she opted to do the same. "It's my house. The lights will go off when I say." And even though their words weren't saying what should be said in a moment like this, their bodies were as they both relaxed against one another and drifted off to a stress less dream state where they felt at ease. For once.
The end.