A little late updating this because I just flew across the world and therefore had to contend with jetlag and having no idea what day it was for like 3 days haha.
Summary: Weller tries to thank Roman for saving his life in the field. It doesn't go well.
(This story was written shortly before S2, when we knew Roman would be important to Jane but didn't know their exact connection.)
Hope you enjoy it!
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"Roman. A minute."
Already almost at the door, following close behind Jane— as he always did, her new, ever-present shadow— Roman paused, and Weller didn't miss the way he glanced at Jane, waiting for her small nod before letting the door close behind her and slowly turning around, his expression unreadable.
Arms folded, Weller surveyed him, determinedly ignoring his instinctive dislike of the man that seemed permanently attached to Jane's side.
"I wanted to thank you," he said after a long moment, certain that the words sounded as forced as they felt. "For what you did out there today. You put yourself at risk to save my ass, and that's not the kind of thing I take lightly."
"I did it for Jane, not for you," Roman stated bluntly, his posture military-straight, his hands held stiffly at his sides. His voice sharp with contempt, he went on, "Because for reasons that are completely beyond me, she still cares for you, and I'm not going to let her go through any more pain than she already has."
"You talk like she was the victim in all this," Weller shot back, a mocking bitterness bleeding into his tone. "Clearly, she's already wrapped you around her little finger, which is just what she does."
That got a reaction; instantly, Roman took a swift step closer, his jaw twitching.
"You don't get to talk about her like that," he hissed, eyes flashing. "You threw her to the wolves and let them eat her alive, and even now that she's back and risking her ass for you every damn day, you still treat her like a goddamn criminal on trial." Shaking his head in disgust, Roman lowered his voice. "And yet still she defends you. You don't deserve her."
His anger flaring, Weller scoffed, his voice bitterly sarcastic. "Unlike you?"
He knew he'd revealed too much when Roman's expression instantly became sly, his eyes containing just a hint of triumph.
"Ah, so that is why you hate me. Not because I'm on Jane's side, but because you think I'm sharing her bed. What does that matter to you, though, Assistant Director? You've already proven how little you care about her."
Clenching his jaw, Weller held the younger man's gaze, unwilling to be the first to look away.
"Whatever you and Jane do outside this office is your own damn business," he ground out, "It has nothing to do with me."
"You're damn right it doesn't," Roman answered coldly, his eyes burning with quiet fury. "Jane has been the closest thing I've had to family since I was six years old, and you broke her heart. She's been hurt by people her whole life, but no one cut her deeper than you."
Taking a reflexive step forward, Weller drew himself up, his voice like steel. "I arrested her for crimes that she committed. I did my job."
"And then what?" Roman snarled, his own control slipping as he advanced on Weller, barely a few feet now separating them. "Do you even know where they shipped her off to? What they did to her? Or did you know and just not care? Did you get off on sitting here acting like the wronged party while they tortured her for three fucking months?"
Breathing hard, Roman stared him down— but after a few tense moments, the hatred in his eyes seemed to cool slightly, morphing into a cool disdain as he took in the utter shock on Weller's face.
"So, you didn't know," he muttered grimly, a bitter twist to his mouth. "That's the first and only point I'm going to put in your favor, Assistant Director, because honestly, I would have had no trouble believing that you knew the entire time and just didn't care. I know Jane definitely believes it, and yet she defends you anyway."
Shaking his head, he took a step back, his voice flat but his eyes intense, sharp with challenge.
"So, next time I save your life— which I'm probably going to have to keep doing indefinitely, since hell will probably freeze over before Jane turns her back on you— how about you not waste your thanks on me, and instead start giving me reasons to believe you're actually worth saving."
With that, he turned and strode from the room, the blinds on the door rattling as it slammed firmly shut behind him.
Left alone in the sudden silence, Weller let out an unsteady breath, then sank slowly into his chair, his eyes staring unseeingly at the blind-covered windows that faced the bullpen— the bullpen where Jane now waited, safe and whole and back in his life.
And now, finally, he knew he needed to do everything in his power to make sure it stayed that way.
After several long, slow breaths, he pushed himself up from his seat, then crossed the room and stepped back out into the bullpen— and for the first time, when he saw Roman lingering close by Jane's side, he felt no flash of anger or jealousy, no quickly-suppressed ache. Instead, he simply nodded, then turned and rejoined his team, his mind set.
Just a matter of minutes ago, he had owed Roman his life.
Now, he owed him so much more.
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Thanks for reading!
