Disclaimer: Yeah, I wish…
A/N: Another brief chapter but there is more to follow, I promise. Thanks much to all readers and especially reviewers and a special shout out to partymccarty (if she figures this out)…
"All things are bound together. All things connect." Chief Seattle
They all felt the ground shake and were tense, waiting for news. He heard Broyles phone ring and knew it would be her and he was right. From Boyles' side of the conversation, he concluded the building was gone, the people safe, and there was the small matter of debriefing all the witnesses to work out… He did not envy that job. He and Walter continued quantifying some of the data until that was mostly concluded, then they were allowed to go home. Well, if he were being fully honest, they continued until Walter became petulant and irritable (a side effect of fatigue and hunger) and they were relived of further obligation.
He knew she'd call when she was able. She would claim to want to wrap things up, but really she would need to process everything that happened. The effects of Cortexiphan, whatever she saw, the almost kiss that sparked her fear… He had successfully avoided thinking about that in the intensity of the moment, but now it loomed. They could probably just move forward, not talking about it. It had worked in the past, when she first traveled to the other side and returned with the shakes, when she almost shot him, when he almost killed her to let a virus escape. Looking back, not talking was a particular skill of they shared.
For knowing so little, he read her well. He could see that she was loathe to trust and open up to others, that she was exceptionally self-reliant, that she was self-sacrificing to a fault. He felt a twinge of guilt for manipulating Rachel when they got together once. It was easy to get her talking about her sister without realizing she was doing it. He gathered some childhood history then and learned she had always been this way, at least as far as her sister could tell. It made more sense now, knowing what his father had done. He felt shame by association, doubled by his father's lack thereof. Post-Walter and William Bell, Olivia would not be a happy, easygoing child. She would be different, disconnected, mistrusting. He could relate. Perhaps that is why he could recognize it in her, as well as the need for distance. He just took his space on the road.
He was expecting the call, later that evening, but the content of the call was a surprise. She invited him out for drinks. He smiled. A social encounter was clearly out of the norm and was thus significant. He laughed at the adolescent excitement he felt. This might end well after all.