Time out
Disclaimer : All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.
Written for the prompt of : Eliot /any - he withdrew, every now and then, into his own world to refresh.
Time out
Somehow there had been the assumption that things would change now or since, whatever. Yeah, that Eliot would be in some subtle but intrinsically important way different to how he'd been at first and before.
The assumption . . . funny that Eliot wasn't one for assumptions. He always wanted bare facts, face value proof. There were no grey areas for Eliot; no maybes, just black or white, in or out, except when he was like this.
It had taken time to move from acquaintances to colleagues to 'team' to friends to here and now together. Time. A whole darn lot of it. Not that it was Eliot's fault. Far from it really. He hadn't pursued as such but he'd made it clear that he was open to suggestions at each stage, willing to consider something more than what they'd already achieved. So in that respect 'time' wasn't Eliot's issue at all, except when it was.
To make it clearer, clear as mud anyway. Eliot had been a lone wolf. "I work alone" was the polite way he had of putting it, and didn't we all know that when the mood took him, Eliot could be a whole heap more scathing.
Familiarity hadn't really stopped that exactly either. The jibes were more accurate, but less heated unless he was truly riled or hurt. But the whole 'lone wolf' aura still hung round him, cloaking him. He'd shrug it off, tired, thinking, considering, in need of just a little peace.
It didn't stop the doubts creeping in; why does he need this time? What the hell's he thinking about? Tell me he's not considering dumping my ass. On and on it was easy to give time over to the encroaching doubts when Eliot was away, isolated, alone. There was more than enough time to spend contemplating what he might be thinking, what was driving him away. Easy but not necessarily productive. Doomed to failure more like.
Except when he returned, Eliot always seemed lighter somehow, more centered. Question posed, "Why Eliot? Why is it that you retreat?"
Broad, warm smile, affection clear in his eyes. "I just need a little space from time to time. I'll make it up to you later, sweetheart." The twinkle in his eyes is enough to make it all alright again. It's easy to forgive him when he looks at me like that.
