Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS: New Orleans or its characters…
Author's Note: Another one of those 'I woke up with this story in my head and it wouldn't go away until I started writing it' deals. This one has established Cherri (Chris LaSalle/Merri Brody) because I think I've worn out all the ways to get them together. And sometimes, it's nice to take a break from 'ship origin' fics and just to dive in. But truth is, it's just what was in the story (I have only partial control over characters and plots… they just are what they are).
"I don't see no ring on that delicious pecan sandy."
"That doesn't mean he isn't spoken for, Sonja." He was an attractive man, Merri had to admit, even though she wasn't shopping around. She didn't tend to favor blondes herself, but his hair was that appealing sandy brown sort of color that natural blondes had. He also had soft blue eyes, an attractive face and square jaw line. He was a couple inches shorter than Pride who was currently conversing with him in private in the courtyard. The older man probably had ten, maybe twenty pounds on him, but the fit young man in the grey suit had a presence to match the agent's subtly intimidating one. "Besides, he's a person of interest in our case."
"Don't mean he's a suspect," Sonja Percy said, still studying the hotshot lawyer they'd dragged in as part of the current investigation. His brother, recently released from prison (and thus far untrackable) was their primary suspect. "An' I just sayin'... Maybe a little flirtin' might loosen Pecan Sandy's lips up."
"Ya ain't his type, Percy."
Both of the women jumped where they stood in the kitchen doorway gawking, and turned to face their team mate. Merri thought herself a pretty good agent. Aware of her surroundings, possessing fair reflexes and the ability to stay calm, control her reactions. But damn if Chris LaSalle didn't disavow her of that notion on nearly a daily basis. That man somehow could sneak up on her without fail.
"Ya sayin' a sister can't get wi' a fine Pecan Sandy?" The short fiery agent glared at LaSalle. She cast her eyes over to Merri who responded with a 'what did I do?' return glare. "Leggy, Caucasian with a D-cup is what does it for you white boys?"
LaSalle scowled at Percy, then studied Merri for a moment, getting that certain lusty look he sometimes -okay, often- gave her. She felt her cheeks flush and she self-consciously pulled her sweater closed over her large bosom. As if she could hide it. As if he didn't already know what lay hidden under sweater, blouse and bra.
Yes, Merri well knew that's what did it for Chris LaSalle, but as for the man currently resisting to give them any assistance on the case... She had no idea. Why Chris seemed to think he knew was another intriguing question.
"Mere ain't his type, either," he said.
Percy exchanged a look with Merri. Sometimes, she couldn't understand what was going through that self-centered head of their newest recruit. Other times, they were perfectly in sync.
"Blonde," the two women said in unison. Merri thought Chris would laugh at that. He was generally a good sport, even when the two women teamed up on teasing him. But when he responded, he sounded even more sober.
"Nope. He likes 'em brown-haired an' blue-eyed."
He pushed through the pair of gawking women and walked out into the courtyard. When the blonde man saw Chris, he stopped mid-sentence, his soft blue eyes growing wide, and his mouth hanging ajar for a moment before he closed it, lips forming into a tight line.
Merri slowly made her way into the courtyard, keeping her distance, but too damned curious to pass up on witnessing this odd turn of events.
"Chris?" the blonde man said. He was looking at the agent like he'd seen a ghost. No. Not a ghost, but a long lost friend? Merri wondered if the man was yet another one of LaSalle's many old 'Bama friends. But he didn't have any detectable Southern accent.
"Travis," LaSalle said. Merri could tell there was some significant emotions going on in her partner by the way he'd completely shut down. He was wearing his serious face. She didn't like it. It wasn't him. She loved the Chris that was all open and intense, whether it was with amusement, affection or even passionate and righteous anger.
The two men, old acquaintances of some sort, didn't shake hands. Pride was looking between them with an equal amount of consternation as Merri felt.
"Good ta see ya agin," Chris said after the silence stretched on until the tension in the air was palpable.
"Not sure I can say the same." The smooth-talking lawyer seemed to assert himself and pull together the pieces of what resembled a crushed little boy. "I was telling Agent Pride, here. I don't have anything to do with my brother anymore."
Chris LaSalle simply nodded, looking a little nervous.
"But what are you trying to pin on him this time, if I might ask?" The blonde's tone had a sharp, accusatory edge, and his pale blue eyes flashed. Merri shifted on her feet, looking to Pride and then Sonja. They returned her bewildered, uncomfortable look. The two younger men appeared to be in a world all their own.
"He was guilty of ev'ry charge aginst 'im an' ya know it, Trav," Chris said. Gone was the stoic facade now. "Not ta mention he was convicted by a jury in a fair trial."
"And he's served his time, as I gather it." The blonde man swallowed and looked away, which seemed to break the walls of their self-contained world. Chris glanced at his boss, who motioned him aside.
"Percy, Brody, why don't you get Mr. McCann a coffee." Pride issued one of his suggestion-orders.
Damn. The two women looked at each other. They both wanted to hear the father-son-mentor-protégé conversation about to take place on the far side of the courtyard. But suggestion-orders were suggestion-orders.
…
"So, you and Chris know each other?" Merri asked as she placed a steaming mug of coffee on the table in front of the blonde lawyer. He was an even more attractive man up close, in an unassuming sort of way. She wondered how 'adorable' worked for a lawyer. Either it was very useful. Or very detrimental.
He sighed in a manner that very clearly illustrated he didn't want to talk about it.
"You could say that." He took a sip of the coffee and grimaced. Merri smiled and Percy laughed in sympathy.
"They like the chicory-roast around here," Merri said. "You sort of get used to it."
"Or ya don't." Percy made an 'ew' face. "I still hafta get mine from the cafe down the street."
"The women at the office get only flavored stuff." Travis McCann put on a sympathetic, charming expression. "When did it become more difficult to find some plain old coffee than the fancy stuff?"
"Hear that," Percy said, nodding, and staring a little too much like a smitten teen at the man she'd dubbed 'Pecan Sandy'.
Merri had to admit the man was good at deflection and distraction. She let it slide a little, studying him. He was clean cut. Neatly trimmed hair and clean shaven face. His suit was tailored to his trim figure but didn't look to be an exorbitantly overpriced brand. He wasn't as uptight as he appeared on first glance. His tie was loosened from around his collar and the top buttons on his shirt undone. But he was blatantly unnerved, his fingers tapping on the table top, his eyes staring at some nonexistent point. He was either deep in thought... Or memories.
Merri took the seat catty-corner to their... uh... guest. He finally blinked then looked at her, stared at her. Was he trying to...?
"You and Chris are together," he said, capturing her with eyes that now looked more green than blue. She supposed lawyers had to be good at reading people, too. Sonja Percy laughed, obviously amused that the interrogator had gotten one-uped.
Recalling what Chris had said about the man's type, and the way he'd looked at her partner, Merri could easily prove she'd gotten a read on the situation as well. But that might be revealing something the man she loved wouldn't want the mouthy, selfish former ATF agent to know. Or even Merri to know.
Also, the notion was incongruous with everything she knew about her Bama Boy. Yet there it was, staring her in the face with stormy blue-green eyes.
"We are. We live together," she said, holding the lawyer's unwavering gaze and seeing jealously and hurt flare there, his cheeks growing pink. Unsettlingly, she couldn't deny that it further evidenced what she couldn't reconcile with the man she knew, loved.
"How'd y'all know that?" Percy could never be left out of a conversation for long. And for once, Merri was glad of the interruption. She didn't know where exactly her staring contest with the younger man was going.
McCann didn't fall for the distraction, however rude it was to continue to stare at Merri as he answered her team mate's question. "He still uses Lever 2000."
Merri nodded. She wanted the truth from Travis McCann. And the best way to attract it was to offer the truth in return.
"His scent is all over you."
They lived together, so of course she smelled like her boyfriend. But her cheeks still grew hot with a tinge of embarrassment. Because the suggestiveness in the blonde lawyer's tone wasn't at all wrong. She usually insisted on 'mornin' lovin' (as Chris called it) before she showered. But well, things had gotten a little amorous while they were clearing up the breakfast dishes and... Apparently, she had the stink of it, of him, still on her.
She shrugged, added the fact that Travis McCann knew what soap Chris used to the ever mounting pile of evidence leading to a conclusion she was not especially fond of reaching. She didn't want to include the fact that he could've been referring to the scent of Chris' body and not just his soap being all over Merri. Because that would only prove the hypothesis she had formulated but wanted to reject.
Pride and Chris appeared in the kitchen. Thank god. The atmosphere was getting a little tense as the younger agent's 'old acquaintance' stared down his girlfriend.
"You can go for now, Mr. McCann," Pride said. "We may have some further questions for ya, however. So don't ya go to far now."
The blonde lawyer gave Pride a look for the condescending cliché. They all knew what the agent was saying: Don't leave town. Funny how some things were really just like in the movies.
"We'll need to keep tabs on him, just in case his brother attempts to make, contact," Pride said after Travis McCann left the premises. "Percy, work with Patton. See if you can't come up with a way, between his digital eyes and your real ones, to cover the man 24/7."
"You got it," Percy said, but didn't dash off to the computer consultant's den. Merri couldn't blame her. There were a lot of unanswered questions (unasked ones, too) hanging about the kitchen like an oppressive fog.
Merri studied her partner who'd gone back to his default safety mode, all uncharacteristically stiff and terse. Oh, it might pass here. But when she got him home... She'd soften him up, make him talk.
Pride raised his eyebrows at the petite woman. Well? And she stalked off sulkily.
"The two of you should probably talk," Pride said, sending a poignant look Chris' way. "So I'm goin' down to the Morgue, to see what Miss Loretta and Sebastian have to say, 'bout our dead sailor."
He gave Merri a sympathetic look as he left her and Chris alone in the tense silence of the kitchen, to stare at one another. She didn't know what to say. She didn't know what to ask. Maybe she shouldn't say anything at all, shouldn't push him to share things he didn't want to share.
He blew out a sigh, sunk into a chair, his stoic exterior dissipating. Merri sighed in relief, that they hadn't finally hit something in their relationship too serious for them to work out . She wouldn't have to futilely fight her curiosity, which was compelling her to pry into a part of his past he likely wanted to keep to himself. Because he obviously knew her. Maybe trusted her enough to share the secret. Or was it a painful memory? She couldn't imagine it was a good one, not with his reaction. And that of the man who'd caused it.
She sat down across from him at the long kitchen table, reached out and took his hand. He looked up at her, his dark blue eyes reflecting the tumult of emotion that flowed over his expressive face.
Oh, god, Chris. What had happened?
A/N: Not sure where this came from, except with such a long Law Enforcement career for such a young man, there have to be some interesting stories in there. And Vice is not any easy beat to work. They don't touch on it much, but I wonder how much undercover work LaSalle had to do, and what sort it was… Hence this fic?