R_S: Ok, so this is the first thing I've really written in a long while. Even the handful of updates I've done recently have been mostly written already, I just looked over them for some quick edits. I haven't felt able to create anything in a long time, so when this popped into my head, I forced myself to just get it out. I wrote it in like an hour and it's unedited, so I will probably hate it in a week, but I just needed to force myself to put something out there. I hope it's better than I think it is!

Wait for You

"Pick up pick up pick up pick up pick- Hi, Ian! It's David. WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?" His scream earned a wary look from the secretary, which he returned with a chagrined smile before lowering his voice into a harsh whisper at the phone's mouthpiece. "We have a meeting in ten minutes. Get your ass over here now!"

"Uuugh, he is such a selfish prick!" Poppy was pacing feverishly, scratching at the hives that were beginning to creep up her neck. Sweat made the back of her neck sticky, dripping down her chest and beginning to soak into the plush fabric of her sweater. Poppy had anticipated Montreal being much cooler, despite the summer months and was over dressed. Brad appeared unperturbed, fingers flying across his phone screen as he lounged in plush leather chair. Vaguely in the back of her mind, Poppy registered that he had made some inane comment, but it did not penetrate her haze of anxiety.

The elevator dinged and Ian strolled in, broad chested and smug with his cup of ice coffee. The effect of her skin irritation lessening was immediate, though the anxious and overheated sweating pervaded.

"There you are! Where the hell have you been, asshole?" She asked in a hiss. In lieu of a greeting, Ian looked her up and down.

"Uh, Pop, you do realize it's like 85 degrees outside?"

"I know what the temperature is! We were supposed to huddle up before our meeting- y'know, the one we have in-" she checked her phone, "6 minutes!"

"Relax; I've always got it under control. Hey," he winked flirtatiously at the administrative assistant, "good to see you." And took a sip of coffee, tuning out Poppy's exasperated groans as David attempted to catch him up to speed. She slumped into a small couch beside Brad and placed her head in her hands, attempting to level out her breathing.

This was going to be a long meeting and an even longer trip.

The meeting was long, Poppy had been right, but it was also good. The majority of the Montreal team had positive things to say, regardless of the shitstorm around the masked man hack. But it would have been nicer, she thought, if the guys had let her speak. When she garnered positive feedback from the board for her management of the servers, Ian had spoken over her and instead talked about how great a support she was, lifting her beside him with one arm. Because they were presenting, she had not even gotten to pick at the continental spread on the sideboard- and now all the jelly donuts were gone. No, as per usual she stood aside silent while others got credit. There were some things no job title could change.

As everyone filtered out, Poppy sighed. The guys had already left her behind, running off to explore something. So much for being Ian's "partner", she thought. At least she could snag a bunch of the leftover food, use that instead of the hotel's mini bar and save a buck. She perused the offerings, intending to act as though she had greater qualms than she actually did until all the suits were out of eyesight.

"Great presentation." A husky voice commented over her shoulder. Poppy turned to see a handsome executive, dark haired with a clean-shaven but chiseled jaw. Despite herself, she blushed.

"Oh, thank you."

He extended a hand, "Blake Rhinelander. I think I may have heard you on the phone once or twice, though I usually talk to David."

"Great to meet you, Mr. Rhinelander!" She beamed, returning the gesture. His hand was large and warm, and he stepped just a few inches closer, placing her within his shadow and the delicate cloud of his expensive cologne.

"Please, call me Blake. You know, I have to say, I have been very impressed with your work. Tracking down the hacker real time? Incredible. And then the roll-out of the vaccine fix after the poorly timed Blood Ocean?"

"Yeah, Ian as per usual had a great inspiration but terrible timing."

"And Ms. Li-"

"Oh, Poppy, please." She laughed and cheesed hard, grinning up at him.

"Poppy, then. What do you think?"

"I- what do I think?"

He nodded, "Ian's got some great ideas, sure, but I've been hearing Ian's ideas for years now. With fresh young blood in the creative director's chair, I'm excited what new spark you're bringing to the table. I assume you have some?"

"Oh, of course! Tons- loads."

"I thought so. Let's do lunch tomorrow, just you and me; you can share the genius swirling around behind those big eyes of yours."

"I mean, yeah, sure! I would love that."

"Excellent! Meet me here, my office, at 12:30?"

"Sounds great." She agreed, cheeks aching from the excited grin pulling them up.

He took her hands in his and gave them a squeeze, "I look forward to it. See you tomorrow, Poppy."

When he left, she was alone in the room and gave a shameless little happy dance.

"Suck on that, Ian!"

A few hours after the presentation, Ian found Poppy coding in her room to escape the summer heat. He chucked a small Mythic Quest merchandise shirt pilfered from the Montreal office at her head and told her to put it on, insisting they go find her some less embarrassing clothes that would not cause her a heat stroke. It was, Poppy had to admit, a surprisingly nice day. And while Ian had terrible, terrible taste most of the time, a couple of the things he talked her into didn't totally suck. In fact, the next afternoon, she found herself strolling up toward her lunch meeting in a sundress he picked out. It was powder blue with tiny, subtle white flowers and a modest corset top. She couldn't remember the last time she felt so feminine and delicate, and she had giggled when the wind picked up the fabric flouncing around her thighs on her walk over. It was something she never would have chosen for herself, but he talked her into it. After mocking her mercilessly, as Ian was wont to do, he told her in no uncertain terms that she was a "beautiful woman" and "should feel confident". He still couldn't get her into a pair of heels, though.

She hardly waited a moment before the receptionist sent her into the private office, is broad windows gently dimming the sunlight through blinds. Blake immediately stepped out from behind his chair to greet her, arms wide and welcoming. "There she is! The lady of the hour." He pulled her into a hug and kissed her cheek. It took Poppy aback for a moment but she rolled with it; he was French Canadian, Afterall. He shut the door behind her and led her to a seat at his desk with a hand on the small of her back.

"Aren't we going to lunch?" She glanced back over her shoulder at the door, but he only increased the pressure at her waist.

"I thought we would eat here," he said, gesturing toward the spread upon his desk. It looked expensive, gourmet even, and Poppy wondered why Ian did not come up to these offices more often if this was the treatment one got as creative director. Blake settled into his seat and the two began tucking politely into the meal.

"Have you been enjoying your trip? Getting out of the hotel and seeing the sights, I hope."

"Yeah, it's been lovely. Ian dragged me all down Rue Sainte-Catherine yesterday. Now he's got this crazy idea about incorporating some of the architecture. I'm sure that'll keep me busy when we get back home."

"Ian has lots of ideas, but do you really want to talk about Ian some more?" The look he gave her made Poppy feel truly seen, and she blushed. She had to admit that Blake was incredibly handsome.

"No. No, I do not." For the remainder of the meal, Poppy delved into plans and upcoming projects she hoped to implement. Blake encouraged her warmly, asking insightful questions and laughing at stories about the nonsense that occurred at MQ headquarters. She could not help but revel in the attention and praise, finally feeling like the executive office saw her as a creative to be wined and dined, not just a little girl to be pushed aside for Ian. They had finished eating and were simply chatting. She had grown so comfortable, she sat with her knees tucked under her, skirt carelessly shifting up.

"You know, Poppy, I think you have a great future here." Blake said. She smiled back.

"Thank you, Blake. That means a lot. I think Ian and I are really going to elevate MQ to another level."

"Huh," Blake commented thoughtfully. He stood and came round to perched in front of her on the corner of the large mahogany desk, forcing her to look up at him.

"What?" She asked, chin tilted up to him.

"Just, there's that name again. Ian. Do you really intend to follow him for the entirety of your career?"

"What? No! I don't follow Ian. We built Mythic Quest together, and we're partners now."

He put his hands up in mock surrender. "Sure, sure. But don't you want to build something on your own? Away from Ian?"

"I mean, sure, eventually. But-"

"Then you should stick with me." He leaned in, tucking hair behind her ear. "I see greatness in you, Poppy. Let me show you how great you can be." His finger trailed down her neck, down her collar bone, to her decolletage. She smacked his hand away.

"What are you doing?!" He leaned forward, resting his hands on the armrests of her chair and boxing her in.

"It's fine, sweetie; Ian doesn't have to know. And I can do so much more for you than he can." He leaned in but she kept him at bay with a hand on his chest, white hot anxiety climbing through her chest.

"I- I think there's been a misunderstanding." She tried. She could feel herself beginning to shake.

"Shh, shh… it's ok. You wanna keep moving up right? Just do for me what you did for him, and you can have so much more." His left hand slides off the armrest to her thigh, and she can't shove it off.

"I didn't do anything for Ian!"

He laughed at that, "Oh c'mon Poppy, sweetie, I'm not stupid. You're his lapdog for years and then suddenly out of nowhere you get the promotion of a lifetime? Why else did you come here all sweet like a candy for me to unwrap. You looked ridiculous yesterday, by the way, with him keeping you all covered up for himself. But I wouldn't want anyone to take a bite either." She felt his breath on her face, smelled the white wine they had been drinking.

"Please, Blake, I- I don't want this."

"You don't want to lose your job either. Relax, Poppy, we'll have fun." This time, Blake leaned in fully, his mouth open and hungry against hers, left hand leaving fingerprints on her thigh while his right slid up her side, thumb brushing against her breast. She whimpered and pushed back, but she had always been slight. As his hand slid the strap of her dress down one smooth, bare shoulder, the other dragged her hand forward, clearly intending for her to make contact with his erection.

So she did.

With her fist.

Blake doubled over, crying out, and Poppy shoved him back as hard as she could. With the route clear, she darted for the door, yanking on the knob with all her might. It was locked. Nausea roiled in the pit of her stomach. Her chest hot and tight. She kept her wits and fiddled, offering a silent prayer of thanks when she found the lock had been turned from the inside to keep others out. She twisted it gracelessly and stumbled out the door. Her legs carried her in a sprint past the alarmed receptionist and forwent the elevator, barreling down the stairwell like a bat out of hell and taking steps 2 at a time. She stumbled at some point and fell violently against the landing, but she dragged herself and kept on, bursting out into the vibrant summer sun. Somewhere on the trek back to her hotel, she ran out of breath and began a limping walk, sore from falling. She held her arms around herself and cried, hiccupping and ignoring the wary looks of those she passed. Her mind was in a fog, and she did not know exactly where she was going until she found herself with her nose nearly pressed to Ian's door. He had a suite, larger and more luxurious than what anyone else had, and she had argued he did not need so much space when they were not going to spend very much time in the hotel. Now she only hoped he would be there. She needed somewhere familiar and safe, and all the way in another country, the only place fit the bill was in Ian's arms. She did not remember knocking but she must have, because the door opened and was replaced by Ian's chest, nearly as broad as the painted wood.

"Pop? What happened, are you ok?" She launched herself into his arms without preamble, and he caught her without stumbling. Her toes just barely brushed the ground as she sobbed into him, body beginning to shake uncontrollably. Somewhere in the back of her mind she vaguely felt him carry her to the couch and noticed Brad and David were hovering scared around the room. She didn't care, folding herself into Ian's form as though she could make herself small enough to disappear into him. He buried a hand in her hair and rubbed her back, whispering soothing noises and calming statements. It was all going to be ok. She was safe. She knew this, because Ian was telling her so.

It took a long time for Poppy to stop crying, but finally the adrenaline had been completely leached from her body and she was too tired to do anything more than hiccup. Her eyes were so swollen, they could barely open and she continued to shiver against Ian's chest. He wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and held her close.

"The fuck happened, Pop?" He whispered gently, pressing his cheek to the top of her head. She could only whimper in response. She noticed belatedly that there was blood on his shirt and licked her lips, tasting it. Rhinelander must have caught her lip with his teeth when she hit him. As this registered, David knelt beside the two of them with earnest, kind eyes.

"Poppy, we're your friends and we're gonna help you. It's all going to be ok, we'll file a police report. Just… tell us who did this to you." He lifted the edge of the blanket carefully from her leg, where a few red lines were raised and deepening into bruises like black fingers on her tan flesh. They were not deep, forming quickly, but they hurt more than physically. Instinctually, Poppy jerked away, deeper against Ian, who all but shoved David in his reach to cover her more fully with the blanket.

"I'll kill him." Ian's voice was deadly in its tone and calm. "Whoever it is, I will peel the fucking flesh from their bones."

"Don't fire me." She whispered softly, unsure where the sudden fear came from. She felt Ian stiffen beneath her.

"Why the hell would anyone fire you?" Brad asked with uncharacteristic gentleness, although he maintained maximum distance at the other end of the room.

"He said…" she trailed off and instead buried her head in the crook of Ian's neck, her words muffled against his skin. "He didn't believe me when I said you didn't make me do that for the job. He thought he would get me by offering a promotion too."

"It was one of those corporate scumbags?" He growled, grip around her tightening, and she began to cry again.

"He said he wanted to hear my ideas. God, I'm so stupid." She sniffled, feeling pathetic.

"No, Poppy, no. You're not stupid. He's just an evil son of a bitch. I'll take care of it, Pop. I'll make it ok, I promise. No one's ever gonna hurt you again."

Poppy cried herself into a fitful sleep in Ian's arms, and he tucked her into the bed in the adjoining room. The skirt of her pretty blue dress, the one he helped her picked out, flirted with the tops of her thighs, revealing slow forming bruises and scraped knees. He closed the door quietly behind him, returning to the seating area where the other two men sat tensely. Without preamble, his fist went through the wall.

"Jesus, Ian!" Brad choked.

"Find out who it is, David. Now."

"I already think I know from her calendar, but you know I can't let you-" David's feet were off the ground and his back against the wall within moments. "Ian, you know we need to go through the proper channels." he attempted to remain calm, but it was difficult with his shirt hoisting him up in the muscular man's fists, Ian's eyes practically red as they bore into him.

"Who. Is. He."

David shook his head, "I will call corporate and report this as soon as you put me down, Ian."

"Actually," Brad drawled, staring out the peephole, "he's here." He opened the door to the suite. There in the hall stood a tall, fit looking man in an expensive suit and holding flowers as he was knocking at Poppy's door.

"C'mon, Poppy sweetie, I know you're in there. Let's talk." They recognized the voice and the face from the meeting.

Ian did not remember registering most of this. He only remembered holding up David and seeing red. He did not know how he ended up screaming obscenities and insults as he pummeled into the man before him, but he was not about to stop. His jaw ached, suggesting he had taken a hit there, but he ignored the pain. Dully he noticed the screams he was projecting through the haze of fury.

"If you come near her again, even fucking look at her again, I'll fucking kill you, you son of a bitch, I'll…" His throat felt raw from screaming, but he still howled as security caught him by the arms and dragged him back. He chest heaved with desperate pants and gasps, ragged with exertion. In the doorway, David held Poppy to his side gently, Brad standing between her and the commotion to keep the man with the flowers away. The flowers were crumpled and destroyed now, and so was the man's suit. Ian's eyes moved dazedly around the hall, taking in the camera phones with their flashlights on, recording.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he realized they were royally fucked. But then he saw Poppy, big eyes red and tears dripping down her cheeks, and everything else went out the goddamn window. The guards almost stopped him from moving toward her, but she met him halfway and hid in his arms.

"Fuckin' called it," the executive slurred from where he was being helped up by the security guard, "I knew you fucked your way to the top. You're fucking done for this, bitch." Security moved to hold Ian back in response, but he was too busy with his arms full of Poppy to do anything more than sneer at the Canadian man.

"Pop would never lower her standards to sleep with me, asshole. She got the position on her own fucking merit, and she's sure as fuck not gonna suck your dick for anything she could easily get on her own. We will fucking destroy you, mark my words. Now get the fuck away from her."

In a whirlwind, they were back inside the suite, answering questions for security and the police officers that subsequently joined them. Their phones were ringing off the hook from corporate. The videos of Ian giving a beatdown to defend Poppy's honor were already going viral. David ignored the calls from Sue but sent her a quick text promising to update her. Everything was about to change, and he longed for the simplicity he knew would now be gone.

Mythic Quest headquarters were unusually subdued. Ian laid on the fur in his office, lost in thought as he stared at Poppy's cluttered but empty desk. There were about a million cards and flowers and gift baskets covering every surface but exactly zero Poppys. He missed her, her smile and her laugh. Every time he closed his eyes, he flashed back to that day. Poppy ripping at the dress, desperately gasping that she needed it off. Rhinelander had thought she wore it for him, to seduce him. The revelation that Ian had actually been the one to pick it out did nothing for the rumor mill that was already churning. He remembered letting her begin to strip down right there in his bedroom, recalled grabbing his discarded t-shirt and sweatpants and tossing it at her before turning away, his blood pounding in his ears. He had not turned back until her arms were around him, clinging her chest to his back like a koala. Poppy spent the night dozing between nightmares, tucked safely into Ian's bed as he laid atop the comforter and watched her, unable to chase even the barest vestiges of sleep.

By the next morning, Poppy had steeled herself and was able to answer questions and interact as a shadow of her old self. She still sought the feeling of Ian under her hands or against her side, but she was able to speak clearly. The suddenness and violence of it all had worn off, and the police had already filed their statements and photographed the marks on her body. As soon as they were able to do so, Ian and Poppy had flown home. David and Brad remained behind another couple days to tie up any loose ends, but the two creative directors had cut the trip short. He upgraded her to first class with his own money and tucked her safely between him and the window. She held his hand most of the flight. He had a private car collect the bags for them and take them straight to her apartment. He slept on her couch for 3 days until Poppy told him, in no uncertain terms, that she was ok and now just needed space. He would see her, she promised, when she returned from a short leave of absence from work.

Ian slept poorly at home, constantly wondering if she was alright. He called constantly, and she answered about every 7th time. He had left a message earlier that day asking if he could swing by to drop off her gifts and check on her, but he had received no answer. Everything felt off with her gone, fewer jokes and a lot less yelling. Hell, Michelle was actually doing her goddamn job. It was fucking awful. He had gone downstairs to talk to Sue about it, hoping her unyielding positivity might reset him and that she might have some ideas what to bring Poppy to cheer her up. Instead, the woman gently suggested that perhaps he leave Poppy be for a while. The whole conversation only served to irk him more, and he even had to see that shithead Paul again. The asshole was all sweet and sensitive, suggested he might be struggling and offering the number for his oh-so-insightful therapist. God, Ian hated that guy.

A knock sounded at the door and he told them to go away, but they entered anyway. It was David, Brad, and Jo, all of whom circled around him.

"What do you want?" He groaned.

"Don't get your panties in a twist," Brad rolled his eyes, "we're just grabbing Poppy's stuff. She asked David if he or Jo could drop it off."

Ian sprung up so quickly they thought he might have hurt himself, "You heard from Poppy? How is she? Is she ok? She hasn't answered me in 2 days and I'm freaking out!"

Brad rolled his eyes as the trio moved toward the desk, "She's fine- showering, drinking coffee, calling therapists."

"How do you know that?" Ian's disbelief was palpable.

"Saw her yesterday. Wow, biggest basket is from Pootie Shoe, go figure."

"What's this?" David asked, fishing something with Poppy's name on it from the trash.

"C.W. wrote an erotic poem about her to cheer her up."

"Yeah, no don't give her that." David dropped it back into the bin as Ian sighed.

"Yeah, he can be pretty tone-deaf. But wait- why you or Jo? I already offered to bring it to her, I left like 18 messages!"

"Ian, buddy, I know you're hurting, but this can't be about you. It's about her. And I think the space will do both of you some good. If you really need to talk, Maria has a list of mental health providers covered by the company plan."

Ian threw his hands up, "Why does everyone keep saying that?!"

"Be…cause you're in love with Poppy?" Jo said slowly, as though it was a trick question.

"What?! No, I'm not!"

"Um, yes you are." She pushed, looking at him disbelievingly.

"No, I am not!"

Brad sighed and counted off with his fingers, "Always calling her constantly for every little thing, making her co-creative director because she was sad about losing a position at our archnemesis company, bringing her with you to meet your estranged son, checking on her and only her during the quarantine, attempting to murder Rhineland with your bare hands-"

"Ok, ok, enough! That- that doesn't prove I love her. That just proves she's special to me, which I never denied."

"So's C.W." Brad pointed out, "You don't act like that with him."

"C.W.'s different."

"Because you're not in love with him." Jo nodded.

"Yes- No!" Ian let out an enraged yowl. "Just get out!" He ordered, the wind coming out of him. Jo and Brad did as asked, but David hung back.

"Look, Ian," he said gently, "we're not saying this to mess with you. It's just… Poppy's in a really delicate place right now, and it's important that you be aware of what kind of things you might accidentally bring to the table. If you are around her while you need comfort, she might end up diving into something she's not ready for to take care of you. Poppy understands that, and you need to too. She needs the Ian she knows, not this confused one that can't figure out his feelings."

"I don't ha-" Ian surprised himself by stopping when David held up a hand.

"Just think about it." He said, "That's all." And he left.

David was midsentence when Ian strolled in and hung up the phone for him.

"Let's say you're right and there is something between me and Poppy- which is crazy. But if it wasn't… wouldn't it stand to reason then that she has feelings for me too? I mean, look at her behavior-" He began opening his messages, prepared to display the bubble that just popped up where she told him she saw a dog that while taking a walk that day that reminded her of him, but he was cut-off before he could.

"Yes, Ian," the other man agreed tiredly, his head in his hands, "she probably does."

"Ha! So, if you don't think her behavior is weird, then why would mine- wait, you're agreeing with me?"

"She was clinging to you like you hung the damn moon in the sky, man! So, you're either a father figure, which ew obviously not, or there's something there on both sides. But it doesn't matter, because you need to stay away."

"Why? Why the hell should I? If she feels safe with me, then isn't that exactly where she should be? Why can't she just- there's so much room at my place, she could stay there and be safe and be-"

"Be what, Ian?" David demanded, throwing up his hands up in frustration, "Be hidden behind another man she works with that wants to sleep with her? Be resigned to the idea that her desirability matters more than her skill in this field? C'mon, man, she's humiliated and hurt, and jumping into your arms is the last thing she needs!"

"I'm not saying anything has to happen- it wouldn't, because I don't feel that way, obviously. But why can't I keep her safe?"

"Because you're needy as hell, man! Jesus, you won't be able to control your need to be with her, and you'll take advantage-"

"I would never-"

"Not on purpose, but you will! You have zero self-control, and it's not fair to expect her to be your keeper right now. Give the poor girl a break. I'm not only asking as her friend, I am telling you as a producer that if you go see her, I will report you to HR. Don't test me, Ian."

He felt the air rush out of him. "She wants to see me too." The pushback felt pathetic even to his ears.

"She does. She misses you a ton. But you can be suffocating, you know that, and she needs air." David clapped a hand on Ian's shoulder as he stood to leave, "Keep noodling on it, bud."

Ian did not understand what they had been talking about until she was finally there across from him again, perched pensively at her desk where she should be. The desire to feel Poppy's delicate form against his side and smell her shampoo was suffocating. He wondered if he had ever before noticed the perfect little slope of her nose, the big-eyed star he could get lost in. Fuck, he was as gone as they said he was.

And David was right that Poppy knew it too. She felt it in the way his gaze sought hers, the proximity in which he stood, always at precisely where she could see him and feel safe. She loved it, soaking in his body heat and knowing he would find her no matter where she was. Hold her. Protect her. He was there exactly when she needed him. Now it was time to see if he could show patience and dedication. He had finally gotten his head out of his ass, but she was not sure if that was enough. They needed to be partners in all ways for this to work, and it still was not clear if he could be.

"You don't have to do that," his voice cut across the pensive silence, drawing Poppy's from the paperwork she was filling out, "I can take care of it tomorrow. You should go home, get some rest."

She shrugged, "Lots to catch up on, might as well do my part."

"I can stay, keep you company-"

"Go home, Ian; I have this handled… But thank you."

"What about dinner? I could just run and grab something for us."

"I brought leftovers, so don't worry about me. You've been working hard juggling all this on your own, take the night."

"Ok, well, security is-"

"Ian! I. Am. Fine. Go home."

"Yeah," he nodded, "yeah, sorry Pop. I'll see you tomorrow. Don't work too hard." He forced himself not to dawdle too much as he gathered his things and shut down his computer. She wanted space. He could do space. He would show her and David and everyone that he wasn't the same guy. He could put someone else first. He would put someone else first: Poppy, forever and always.

"Ian," she said softly, eyes finding his across the room, "I… I can't right now. But eventually when I feel like I can try, I want it to be with you."

It took everything in his core to keep the shit-eating grin off his face.

"I'll wait for you this time."

R_S: I tried to keep them in character, although it's hard to create an empathetic Brad. I really do hope y'all enjoyed it.