Call It a Win
Category: Fluff
Pairing: Helen/Will
Summary: "I would really value your personal opinion on the matter Will, but I understand if it makes you feel uncomfortable?"
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: Own nothing.
Authors Notes:
It's unusually quiet in the small breakfast area and Will's still half asleep, struggling to bring the sport section of the paper into focus as he sips his coffee. For the first time in weeks he has the entire table to spread out over, a newspaper that's fully intact and there won't be an all out brawl for the last blueberry bagel. It's his, entirely his and nothing can ruin the satisfaction. Kate is in Boston following a lead, Henry has taken some personal leave to visit Erika in London and Biggie isn't returning from the Tokyo Sanctuary until later in the afternoon. There's no one around to-
"Morning Will, sleep well?"
He glances up as Magnus hovers rather pointedly by his side, her skirt immaculately pressed and her hair curled to perfection. Anything less and he'd be surprised because it might be early but she'll wear that look for hours without so much as a crease... and now he's wishing he'd bothered to shave before coming down or in the very least had a shower.
"Yeah, not bad-" he abandons the notion, catching her gaze as it falls towards the basket on the counter -the one with only plain bagels left- and he sets his coffee mug down, instinctively sliding his plate towards her, "you want the last one?"
He immediately kicks himself but doesn't retract the offer, wavering further when she chews hesitantly on her lower lip. It really is adorable and he commits to surrendering all his self-dignity. "Seriously, I didn't want it anyway."
She looks doubtful but doesn't argue and he folds out the business section, handing it over once she's seated. He's learnt, along with the fact blueberry bagels are her favourite, that it's the first place she likes to start and the routine usually precedes a cup of tea. Lifting his own mug, he swirls the contents around hoping she won't notice that it's still half full. "Need a drink?"
"Please-" she smiles softly, enjoying the somewhat 'slightly' docile state her protege is slowly waking from. He's always a fraction more susceptible to persuasion in the early hours and while she would never intentionally capitalise on it, she will admit to occasionally taking advantage.
"So, what's on the agenda today?" He's now poised against the counter, fully content with making light conversation until the kettle boils. If he tried he could probably remember what she has planned -that is why they have weekly briefings- but the task seems a little complex given it's barely just touched six thirty.
Stifling a yawn, he nods along as she starts verbally detailing her morning. There's a slight interruption when the kettle whistles, but in-between filling her mug and topping up his own, he still believes he's managed to pay attention to most of the conversation.
Until her slight cough suggests otherwise and he turns to her questioning gaze, both cups in hand as she gestures patiently towards him, "I would really value your personal opinion on the matter Will, but I understand if it makes you feel uncomfortable?"
"um, I ah..." he doesn't know how to respond, whether to admit he missed the question completely or to take a stab regardless. The former seems like the wiser of the two but his brain is running on autopilot and deprives him of the choice before he gets to decide. "I think it's a good idea."
"Really?" She straightens a little, taking her tea and for a moment he thinks he's totally busted... until her features soften and she smiles warmly, "I'm glad, I'd hate to think I was overstepping a boundary between us."
Uh oh, now he's really wishing he'd heard the question but her attention is already back on the paper, her left hand alternating between plate and mug and he reluctantly decides to just call it a win.
Any conversation that ends with her approval usually is and he sits back down taking a mouthful of coffee and trying not to wince as the bitter after-taste rears. A shower as opposed to more caffeine would've been his preferred way to wake up and he can't help but linger on how dishevelled he must look, regretfully letting his gaze wander back over the women beside him.
It's then he suddenly notices, amidst her perfectly composed outfit, the very familiar item of clothing she's chosen to wear for the day. "Is that... are you wearing my shirt?" He eyes the unmistakable blue fabric, catching the faintest hint of amusement in her expression as she acknowledges the fact.
"Of course." She tilts her head, regarding him in a more suspicious light, "when I asked if it was appropriate to borrow your clothes, which item exactly did you think I was referring to?"
He nearly chokes on his coffee at the insinuation but masks the splutter with a brief chuckle, landing the cup back on the table.
So that's what she'd been asking him.
"Nothing, I wasn't thinking. You know what I'm like in the mornings..." he stands with a half-hearted shrug, moving to the sink and rinsing out the rest of his mug. If he's going down then there's no reason to keep subjecting himself to the second-hand coffee.
She instantly narrows her gaze at the dismissal. "You weren't listening to a word I was saying, were you?"
Feeling much more awake and a little more confident he slips on a lopsided grin as he moves, stopping to plant his hands squarely over her shoulders, "I'm going to take a shower-" he deliberately avoids the question, pressing a chaste kiss to her cheek, "and keep the shirt, it looks a hell of a lot more sexier on you..."
He's out the door before she can protest and even though he's lost his table, his paper, his breakfast and the shirt off his back -all in the space of fifteen minutes- he's still determined to call it a win.
Because it might be his favourite shirt but now he gets to appreciate it in a whole new light and who knows, later on he might even get to reclaim it. Win or lose, that's a game he definitely wants to play.