Disclaimer: Not my characters.
Summary: Carol had insisted he come, and so here he was.
A/N: Written for Loz for Yuletide 2007.
Tony stood just inside the entrance of the pub and looked around. He didn't belong here – it was rare that he felt he belonged anywhere, really – but Carol had insisted he come, and so here he was.
The team was sitting at a table in the far corner. Don and Paula looked deep in conversation; Carol was staring out the window. Tony looked around for Kev, and found him chatting to a pretty blonde at the bar. He smiled to himself, vaguely amused at Kev's attempts to be suave. Judging from the blonde's body language, she seemed interested in Kev.
Good for Kev.
Tony looked at the team again. Carol checked her watch, then looked out the window again. Tony wanted to think she was waiting for him, but even if she was, he knew better than to read too much into it. His relationship with Carol was not one that could be easily defined in words, an odd mixture of friendship and attraction and something else. The only reason he'd come was because she'd asked; he was fairly certain the rest of the team couldn't care less whether he showed up or not.
Pushing aside his reservations, Tony crossed the room until he reached the table. He told himself to relax and forced a cheerful note into his voice. "Hello," he said.
Carol looked away from the window, her expression softening as she gazed up at him. Her smile was enough to make being here worthwhile. "You made it."
He shrugged. "I did. Hello Paula. Don."
They greeted him, then returned to their conversation. Tony grabbed an empty chair from the neighbouring table and sat down. His knee brushed Carol's and he jerked it away, then wished he hadn't.
"Sorry." His smile was faint.
"It's alright." Carol glanced down at the table, picking at the plastic cover with her fingernail.
"Oh, Tony, good job on the profile," Paula said, and Tony immediately saw that she was slightly tipsy. He wondered how long they'd been here before he arrived, wondered how long he'd kept Carol waiting.
He reached for the menu; his mood souring slightly. He didn't want praise for the profile. He decided that coming here had been a mistake. He wasn't in the right frame of mind to celebrate; how could he celebrate? People had died.
So much blood, but it's not enough. Stab, and stab, and stab and won't you just shut up, I can't take it anymore—
"Tony?"
He returned to himself with a start, and it took him a few seconds to realize that Carol's hand was on his arm. There was something so natural and right about the gesture and for a moment Tony stared blankly at her, thinking only of how light her touch was.
"Come back to me," she said, and there was understanding in the way that she looked at him.
"I should go," he said.
Her hand was still on his arm. "I'm hungry. You up for some curry?"
"Carol—"
"You need to eat, too, Dr. Hill." Her tone was undemanding, but there was a look in her eyes that Tony was all too familiar with, and he knew he would be unable to refuse her.
"They don't serve curry here," he said.
She smiled again. "No. They don't."
He looked down at the table. When he met Carol's gaze a moment later, he was smiling too. "Alright."
And, suddenly, he couldn't remember why he had wanted to be alone earlier.
She tucked her arm in his as they walked down the block to the Indian restaurant. There was something strangely right about this moment. Then again, he reflected, things usually felt right with Carol.
He was not in the right state of mind to be analyzing his relationship with Carol. Tonight he would just enjoy her company without wondering about what other possibilities there were.
He hoped.
Not thinking about the possibilities was becoming increasingly harder to do.
"They don't understand how you do it, you know," she said, and Tony was once again brought back to the present.
"Do you?" He tilted his head slightly so he could see her properly, interested in hearing her answer.
"No." She looked up at him. Her expression was open and for a brief moment she seemed oddly vulnerable. Tony wondered if he was only imagining this in the dim streetlights, and then she said, "I see what it costs you. You make it look easy, as if the answers just come to you, but I know it's not like that. I know it hurts."
It surprised Tony how clearly Carol could see him. He didn't know how he was supposed to respond to that. He hadn't been prepared for this kind of conversation, not tonight, not when he was still raw from the last case.
Carol smiled then, her body brushed against his, and he felt reassured. The gesture told him she didn't expect him to reply, and he was grateful for that.
"You're too hard on yourself, you know," Carol continued. "You should take a holiday."
He chuckled. "A holiday? What's that?"
When they reached the restaurant, Tony held the door open for Carol and said, "Besides, pot, kettle; ringing any bells?"
"Point taken." She laughed. "Alright, hypothetically speaking, if you were to go on holiday, where would you go?"
"India," he said, smiling. "Lots of curry there."
She gently jabbed his ribs with her elbow. "Forget I asked."
Once they had ordered and sat down, Tony said, "I've always wanted to go to Paris. But Paris really isn't somewhere to visit on your own."
"I suppose not." She ran her finger down the side of the salt shaker, then looked at Tony out the corner of her eye. "Paris. Hmm."
"What?"
She shook her head, but her cheeks were flushed, and Tony wondered what she had been thinking.
"What are you doing on the weekend?" Tony spoke without thinking, then ducked his head once he realized what he'd asked and how it had sounded.
"I don't know yet. I don't have any plans."
"There's a function at the university, some faculty thing." He trailed off, uncertain of his footing in this particular minefield.
"Sounds like fun." Carol wasn't helping.
"I'd be in your debt." He looked at her and smiled.
"Now that is interesting." Carol leaned back in her chair and studied him. "Alright. I'll go with you."
Their waitress arrived just then, placing their food on the table. As Tony moved his plate closer to him, his hand brushed Carol's; this time neither of them pulled away.
He had the feeling that something had changed in their relationship, that the boundary between friend and something more was shifting.
He was okay with that, and he thought Carol might just be okay with it, too.
