Could Have Been
By: Lil' Amethyst Angel
He sometimes wonders what would happen if he were to smooth his hand across the side of her face, brush lips against lips. She sometimes wonders the same thing.
Standing alone in the lab, Catherine leans slightly against a countertop. Nick turns from the microscope and saunters over to her.
She raises a delicate eyebrow questioningly.
"Nick?"
He smiles that charming smile of his and looks at her with those big, brown puppy-dog eyes and leans in.
And he kisses her.
Seconds pass and she pulls away, only to move back in after a moment's hesitation.
Minutes pass and they're remembering where they are. They step back from each other. There's silence, then Nick asks something that will change everything, could shatter everything.
"Come home with me?"
Then Catherine gives an answers that will change everything, could shatter everything.
"Yes."
Hours pass and now they're at Nick's home, in his bedroom. There's touching and kissing, and whispers and sighs. Tangled hair. Tangled sheets. Tangled limbs. All tangled, knotted, twisted.
They keep their relationship quiet, which is a nice way to say they keep it a secret. They don't need to add fuel to office gossip. They don't need speculation and thinly veiled attempts at digging for dirt. They don't want any of that, so they don't say anything.
They're still professionals. So there is no cuddling in the break room. There are no stolen kisses in the hallway. But they're still lovers. So, there are lingering touches and meaningful smiles. There are unconscious glances, lasting just long enough for one of the others to notice.
Nick likes to put his arm around Cath. He likes to feel like he's protecting her from the big, bad world. He likes to be able to feel her there, feel her warmth at his side.
Catherine likes to kiss Nicky on the cheek. He never fails to blush brightly. It always makes her laugh. They can be having sex and he'll be as cool, as charming, as in control as ever, but a peck on the cheek makes him stutter.
When they're falling they can trust the other to catch them. When they're breaking they know the other will find the pieces and put them back together. They care about each other, more than teammates and more than friends, but "I love you"s are never exchanged. Because they don't lie to each other. Ever.
They know each other. They know one another's secrets. Maybe that is why they could never truly work.
When they first got together, they would have sworn to anyone else that what they had was something special. It would sound clichéd and perhaps some would see through words, but they would swear all the same. They would last. Their relationship was special, after all.
When it ends, neither are surprised. They knew what the other was feeling, what they see in their nightmares, their fears. Yet, that's what made it impossible to work. They both needed someone untouched, someone who didn't know, who couldn't even imagine. It ends quietly, just as it had started. There is no big blow-up, no name-calling or accusations. There is just time fading away into nothingness, taking what they had with it.
She was a beauty queen and he was the all-American boy-next-door. Maybe things would have worked if things had been different. Or maybe they would have ended long before now. It doesn't really matter and so neither think about. Not when they can help it, anyway.
Days pass and they're still trying to act as if everything is the same. There's avoidance and stiff postures and short words. They're still professionals though, so they're careful and they play pretend. They are now what they used to pretend to be, yet they're still pretending, and they're both starting to forget what's acting and what's real. Even so, they try to be normal. If there is a change in the way they act with each other, no one mentions it. Then again, no one mentioned anything before either.
Weeks pass and they've fallen back into their easy routines of friendship, of being co-workers. But sometimes, when weeks seem like minutes, they'll forget themselves. They'll stand just a little too close or allow a hand to linger for just a second too long. They'll look into the other's eyes and lean in slightly, as if in an intimate conversation, as so many times before, but then they'll remember and pull back.
Months pass and Nick's leaving. They say they'll stay in touch, but saying isn't meaning, and even if it were, meaning can be lying.
Years go on and they don't talk anymore. Catherine's still in Vegas, but Nick's gone, has been for a long time now. They've both moved on, not holding onto anything. Time has erased what once was and even memories are beginning to fade.
"Nick?"
He smiles that charming smile of his and looks at her with those big, brown puppy-dog eyes and leans in.
"I think I found a match for those fibers we found."
Then they go on to talk about the case, all the while wondering about 'could-have-been's.
Seconds pass, minutes pass, hours pass, and they go onliving their lives as they should be.
Fini