Written for the OBFrankenfics 23 emotions people feel, but can't explain challenge. Set in season three sometime between episodes six and eight.
Jouska: A hypothetical conversation that you compulsively play out in your head.
Delphine sat at her desk and sighed wearily, nearly collapsing into her chair as she tossed yet another overstuffed folder onto her desk. She unfastened the top few buttons of her blouse and fell forward, elbows propped on the desk, burying her hands in straightened locks. Even after this much time, the feel of it still surprised her. A part of her missed the wild curls; another part of her thought that perhaps she'd simply chop it all off tomorrow.
She didn't bother to turn and gaze out of her office window – at this time of night the view was rarely much different than it was on any other night. The window might be slightly frosted over, and the buildings around her would be harshly lit, belying their probable vacancy at this hour. A thin mist would likely hang in the chilly night air, transforming the few cars dotting the roads into hazy, luminescent orbs.
And it would be silent, from this vantage point. Above all, it would be absolutely, unsettlingly silent.
Delphine reluctantly cracked open her laptop and set to work on one of the various stacks of papers piled before her. Although she'd more than anticipated the element of danger present here, she'd never quite considered the multitudes of paperwork associated with Rachel's former position. She sighed again.
In a way she was grateful for it, though. With no relationships to distract her and with this ever-worsening entwinement with insomnia, filling in charts and organizing data proved to be a strangely soothing way to pass the time.
And it would all be worth it, in the end. It had to be. She had never risked quite so much – had never thought herself much of a gambler before now. But then again, she'd never possessed much she'd cared to lose. Most positions, most things, most relationships – they had all seemed interchangeable before. Replaceable, disposable, inconsequential. Life was all a game of logic, and Delphine had played it all expertly. It was easy, when you had so few attachments. When you felt you had so little to lose.
But attachments, she supposed, wrapped themselves around bones and wove through the tissues of your heart when you least needed them (when you never wanted them). Usually she had little trouble shaking them off. But with Cosima? Those seeds had settled in deep from the start and bloomed through her beautifully, mercilessly, wholly, entwining with muscle and bone. Pulsing with her heart and flooding through her veins until she could scarcely remember how it felt to be without these roots and leaves winding through her.
She'd never wanted it, no. Especially now, she couldn't afford to cloud her judgment in this way. So she'd done her best to prune away the flowers and the leaves of her desire. Cut back these blooms and stalks and leave the roots for later – let them grow back at a time more convenient than now. It did seem logical, after all.
But now she feared that she'd perhaps misjudged how completely Cosima had become a part of her – that this was not something that could simply be laid dormant while she paused to play her required part (at least, not easily).
She wrapped her fingers around the neck of the bottle. Uncapped it. Watched, detached and weary, as the amber liquid poured heavy into the crystal. Pressed her eyes shut as it burned something like comfort down her throat and pulsed stinging warmth through her veins.
She hadn't been able to touch wine since arriving in Frankfurt - not since being forced to leave Cosima that first time. It carried with it too many memories of a warm smile, the press of lips to a cheek, the icy bite of winter air in her lungs as she rushed through a courtyard with a soft hand entwined with hers. Memories of nights spent curled together, skin pressed to skin, content and very much not alone. She shook her head roughly in a vain attempt to dislodge the memories.
Yes. It would all be worth it, in the end. Even if now Cosima would hardly look at her (could hardly look at her) and chose instead to lose herself in the company of another. It was understandable, after all. After what Delphine had chosen to do. After what she felt she had to do. And Cosima would forgive her (would love her) in the end. Wouldn't she? That was, she supposed, part of the gamble. Cosima's forgiveness. Cosima's love.
It was a scenario that she allowed to play out in her mind again and again; a conversation she ached to have, but could not have just yet. In the end, she told herself. In the end. One day soon she would fall back into Cosima's arms, exhausted, and explain everything. But for now, at least, she could placate herself with the fantasy of the thing. Could hide from these sterile, angular DYAD rooms with a simple closing of her eyelids and a well-rehearsed phantom conversation. Even imagined, Cosima's forgiveness was enough to keep her pushing forward.
She gave up on the papers, took a sip of whisky, and began to sift through her emails. More failed European trials, more updates on Cosima, more photos of Cosima and Shay. Another sip of whisky. She hovered a moment over the delete button – afraid of what these new photos might contain – but couldn't quite bring herself to do it. It was her job, after all. She sighed and sifted through the photos and text as quickly as possible, making the requisite notes. By the end of it, her glass was somehow in need of a refilling.
Shay.
Truthfully, that was a development she had not anticipated. Stupidly, she had not considered that pushing Cosima away might lead her to another.
And would Cosima still want her, after all she would have to do? After she had fulfilled her part in this grand, stupid game? Yes, of course, she'd continuously told herself. But then again, if she could have someone outside of all of this…
She wondered if it was the same. She wondered if it was… better. This woman, who in all probability had had… experience in these matters. Would she hesitate to touch her, as Delphine had? Would Cosima moan for her the same way, nails pinching bright red crescents into her back? Was it so, so easy for Cosima to fall in love? When for Delphine it was such a rare thing. When for Delphine, nothing had ever felt like this.
Non, she assured herself. Cosima had to feel it, too. She had to.
She half-drained her glass. Refilled it again. She had work to do, but the whisky had warmed her mind into a pleasant fog and she felt an all too familiar ache between her thighs. She sighed. She would finish no more work tonight. Instead, she'd let the scenario play out again: Cosima, forgiving her. Cosima, missing her with the same aching loneliness. Cosima, encompassing her and pressing against her in a flurry of sweat and skin and…
"Delphine?"
Delphine started.
"Quoi?"
Cosima stood just inside the now open door of her office, eyebrows raised.
Delphine collected herself as best she could, crossing her legs and straightening her spine while she quickly gathered the papers on her desk into a folder. She watched helplessly as Cosima's eyes darted to the half-empty bottle and to the generously filled glass.
"What are you doing here?" Cosima asked.
"I could ask you the same question," Delphine responded curtly.
Cosima simply shrugged.
"I'm not coming in tomorrow, so I was just gonna leave you my latest lab results."
"At one in the morning? You could have just emailed them," Delphine replied, standing stiffly to remove the pile of papers from her desk. She deposited them in a nearby cabinet before crossing her arms and turning back towards Cosima.
"I, um… Scott and I ran the tests outside of DYAD," Cosima explained, gesticulating with folder in hand. "I didn't want to send them through their system. I was just, um, leaving these for you."
"Oh," Delphine said, softening slightly. Did Cosima finally regard her as separate from DYAD, despite her new position? She couldn't help that her heart warmed a bit at the thought, at this tiny display of trust.
"Uh, here. I guess," she offered, handing the folder to Delphine.
Delphine took it wordlessly, careful not to brush her fingers against Cosima's.
Cosima's eyes darted to the bottle again, and back to Delphine.
"Delphine," she began, concern etched in her features, "Are you…like, okay?"
Her voice was too gentle and her gaze much too soft. Delphine bit her lip to keep the tears welling in her eyes from cascading over.
"Oui, ehm… yes. Just… I'm tired. You know, working late." She gestured vaguely to the room around her before hugging her arms more tightly across her frame.
Cosima regarded her skeptically, cautiously strolling to the desk. She picked up the bottle, tilting it so that it caught light and shone amber onto her skin.
"Lagavulin, huh? My grandpa drinks this stuff. Since when do you drink Scotch?"
Delphine sighed, exhausted. "Why does it matter, Cosima?"
"I guess it doesn't," she allowed, but then paused a beat before looking at Delphine pointedly. "Except that I was in here earlier this morning, and at that point I'm pretty sure this bottle was full."
Delphine flushed and stiffened. Her gaze dropped to the floor.
"What's up with you, Delphine? Just… talk to me. Please."
There was a tenderness to her that Delphine had not witnessed for quite some time – at least, not directed at herself. As of late Cosima had been all stone eyes, steel glances and turned shoulder. It was easier not to care, when she shut her out in this way. Easier not to miss her, when she offered no reminder of the affection that had existed between them. But now…
Tu me manques, tu me manques, tu me manques.
The words screamed silent in Delphine's mind, threatening to push past her lips. Her thoughts were still muddled and cloudy from the alcohol, but for the moment she wasn't quite certain why she shoudln't simply allow the words to escape.
"Cosima, I… ehm…" But she shook her head, unable to form any sort of sentence.
"Delphine, just tell me," Cosima pleaded, eyes clear with determination. "Just–"
"I know about Shay," Delphine blurted, eyes widening at her own slip.
Cosima stared blankly.
"Oh."
Delphine shifted her weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other, arms still iron-crossed over her body.
"You broke up with me, Delphine," Cosima whispered.
"I know," Delphine breathed, barely giving voice to the words. Her gaze fell yet again to the floor.
But not because I wanted to.
"And I just, I thought… I mean, I know why you did it. I get it. I was angry at first, but… I get that you can't do this right now. So I just thought… it might make it easier? For me, anyway. To have someone, someone to…" She was stumbling, tripping over her words as her hands gestured wildly, trying to grasp onto some clear explanation. "And it's not like it means anything, with her. It's just, like, I need this right now. And…" Delphine's gaze rose to meet hers, hopeful. Cosima looked at her squarely, hands finally still.
"It doesn't mean that I don't still love you."
Delphine inhaled sharply, not expecting to hear those words. But the way that Cosima was looking at her now, eyes vibrant and glistening…
"I understand, Delphine. I do. It's okay."
Delphine choked out an ugly sob before she even noticed the tears streaming down her face. She tried to turn away, smearing the back of her hand over her face, but instead she felt a gentle hand on her arm guiding her back. She looked down to find Cosima gazing up at her, smiling softly, hands now tenderly cradling her face.
"I love you, Delphine. I've never loved anyone like I love you."
Delphine managed something between a sob and a laugh, smiling as she brought her fingertips up to rest lightly against Cosima's cheek. Cosima smiled back, and Delphine closed the distance between them.
Delphine's chest swelled as Cosima's lips parted hers and her hands settled firmly into the small of her back, pulling their bodies tightly together. Cosima backed her against the desk, slipping a knee between her thighs. Delphine groaned – she had missed this so, so desperately. And now, she was here. Here, kissing her with a slow, deliberate urgency, and pressing against her with surprising strength.
Delphine gasped, grasping for a fistful of Cosima's hair and tilting her head back so that she could kiss down her neck to her collarbone.
"Je t'aime, Je t'aime," she breathed into the skin there. Cosima moaned, and Delphine could feel the flutter of her heartbeat quickening beneath her lips. "Oh mon dieu, tu m'as manqué."
"God, Delphine," Cosima groaned, arching her hips up. "God, just let me…"
Cosima pulled Delphine's face back up to meet hers with both hands, kissing her fully, before slipping her hands down to unfasten the remaining buttons of Delphine's blouse.
"Wait, wait," Delphine stopped her, clasping Cosima's hands at her chest. She kept her gaze to the floor. "What about… what about Shay?"
She lifted her eyes to meet Cosima's, guardedly hopeful.
"I don't care about Shay," Cosima responded immediately. "I want you. I love you."
It was everything Delphine wanted to hear, and yet…
"Cosima, I still have to…. I mean we still cannot…" Delphine faltered, suddenly unsure of what she had wanted to say now that Cosima's lips were pressing into the hollow of her neck.
"We'll figure it out, Delphine. It's okay," Cosima assured her, beginning to kiss down her chest. "Right now, just let me… please." Her last words were nearly a growl.
And with that, Delphine was gone.
She fell back onto the desk, her unbuttoned blouse still hanging from her frame, as Cosima made her way down her body. As she fell back she knocked her laptop, the whisky, and most of the remaining papers to the floor.
"Shit," Cosima said, pausing. "Do you–"
"I don't care," Delphine interrupted, roughly guiding Cosima's head back between her breasts. Cosima chuckled a moment before pushing Delphine's bra up and tracing her tongue around a nipple. She bit down softly and Delphine let out a quiet whimper, arching her back a bit. Cosima smiled into Delphine's skin as she moved down to her stomach, pausing to dip her tongue into her navel.
"Co-si-ma, please." Delphine was outright moaning now. She couldn't take this teasing when it had been so long – when she had feared this might never happen again. Already she felt as if she might come undone, and Cosima hadn't even touched her yet.
"S'il te plait," she begged, grasping the back of Cosima's head as she raised her hips up.
Cosima moaned, all playfulness gone, struggling to remove Delphine's slacks and underwear as she kissed the jut of her hipbone.
At last, Delphine felt herself naked from the waist down. Her blouse still hung open, her bra rucked up above her breasts. She could see her chest heaving as she looked down her body to see Cosima nestled between her thighs.
"Fuuuck, Delphine," she groaned, kissing and biting at the inside of her thigh.
"Co-si-ma," Delphine pleaded, breathless.
Finally, finally, Cosima gave in.
Delphine cried out immediately, reflexively biting into the inside of her own wrist to muffle the sound. She'd missed the feel of her, the motion of her, the heat of her. Mon dieu, the heat of her mouth. Her tongue. The little vibrations as she whimpered into her, the strong hands that dug into her thighs before sliding across slick skin to tease at her entrance. She missed her inside.
She was close, so close, but it wasn't quite right. She didn't want it this way.
"Co-Cosima," she panted, attempting to prop herself up on the desk.
"Hmmmmm?" she moaned low and long into her, fingers still working a steady pace inside of her.
"Come here. I want you here, with me."
Cosima moved quickly up her body until they were again flush together, face to face. She kissed her open-mouthed, messy, desperate.
"I love you, Delphine."
Delphine could only whimper in response, gasping as she finally tumbled over the edge, trembling in Cosima's arms.
Je t'aime, Je t'aime, Je t'aime, she thought over and over. Je t'aime.
She was crying again, and Cosima was cradling her face.
"Hey, hey, c'mon. Was it that bad?" She smiled wryly.
Delphine laughed through her tears, swatting playfully at Cosima.
"Brat!" she teased.
"But you love me."
Delphine gazed into Cosima's shining amber eyes, at the smile split wide across her face, and felt flowers blooming in her again.
"Oui. Je t'aime, Cosima. Je t'aime," she promised, kissing her frantically as the tears continued to stream down her face.
"Hey, hey. It's okay, Delphine," she assured her. "It'll all be okay, in the end. We'll get through this."
Delphine frowned.
It'll all be okay, in the end.
Cosima's image still smiled lovingly back at her.
In the end, it will all be okay. It will be.
But not now, Delphine lamented.
Reluctantly, she opened her eyes.
The stacks of papers still sat untouched on the desk along with her overfull glass of whisky. She was alone. She was alone, and the room was silent apart for the low hum of the overhead lights. She looked down at herself, her open laptop casting a mellow glow over the scene from its place on her desk: her blouse, fully open and bra pushed up above her breasts, and her own fingers still resting beneath the fabric of her underwear.
Delphine flushed, wildly embarrassed even though she was alone. She'd played out this scenario with Cosima so many times in her mind, but it had never actually come to this. She had never actually... no, never. And especially not in such a public place.
She slipped her hand back out from beneath the waistband of her pants, buttoning them quickly, and wiped her fingers on a spare tissue. She straightened her spine, adjusted her bra, and rebuttoned her blouse back up to the top button. Meticulously she cleared away the mess of papers and alcohol off of her desk before walking stiffly out of her office and into the icy corridor. She was fairly certain she was trembling.
But it would all be okay, in the end. It had to be.
For now, though, her anxious mind would call Cosima to appear to her in the most ridiculous and unlikely of situations. She would wait for her outside of her car, inside of her apartment, or in the lab in the dead of night. She would stumble across her in a lonesome bar, pass by her on a bustling street, or collide with her in a crowded supermarket. Anything to spur the start of that conversation, of her forgiveness, of their reunion.
And Cosima would forgive her, every time. She would understand. She would cradle her face, would kiss her neck, would simply hold her close. Sometimes she would take her, would make her moan desperately for her. But always she would leave her hollow – hollow apart from these roots and vines that constricted her breathing and strangled her chest.
But she would survive it – would breathe shakily through the thick of it all. Would craft her lies with pursed lips, spin deceit with a tight smile, and fulfill her role in this elaborate game.
Once home, Delphine pulled another bottle down from the shelf. Filled another glass. She could feel the roots splitting with spider web intricacy through her chest again, cracking it open wide, and she could think of nothing else to dull the raw ache of it.
She kicked off her heels, leaving them in the middle of the hall, and pushed open the door to her bedroom. She paused at the threshold.
Cosima looked up at her from where she sat cross-legged on the bed. Delphine sighed.
"Cosima."
"Hey, Delphine. I hope you don't mind, I just –"
Delphine smiled sadly, setting her glass on the bedside table. She wasn't sure she had the the energy for this again tonight, and yet…
Cosima smiled warmly at her, and she returned it somewhat wearily.
Because it would all be worth it, in the end.
She joined Cosima on the bed.
It had to be.