Having lunch with William Butcher wasn't something I'd seen coming when I walked into the building and found him waiting outside my office. I'd thought I'd hear more thundering irritation at one of the other minor annoyances that he might have encountered with a random lower level agent in the building or an administrative person who looked at him funny. Instead, we were sitting on the visitor's side of my desk, using the desktop as a table as we ate burgers and fries.
I could have shaken my head at the absurdity of it, but I had to admit, it was an improvement.
"Why blue?" I blinked at the abrupt question, since we'd been eating in silence. Blue? Oh, toes.
I shrugged, chewing the bite I'd taken carefully and swallowing before I tried to answer. "Got tired of the red." Absently wiggling my toes, still barefooted because it was MY office after all. "You seem kind of focused on feet, Mr. Butcher." I smirked around my straw since he had just taken his own bite. "Are you one of those weirdos that hordes amputated feet?" He nearly choked and my smile grew.
"Couldn't wait until I swallowed, could ya?" He took a drink from his own cup and stared at me the entire time. "No amputated feet collection, Doc." I rolled my eyes as he hit me with his version of my 'Mr. Butcher'. "Not into feet at all, actually." Raising an eyebrow I bit into a fry. "Your toes, on the other hand, draw my attention."
"Maybe I'll pick clear polish next time and you won't be distracted by them." I offered when my mouth was empty. He shook his head as he chewed.
"Be a damn pity," I was licking a drop of sauce off my lower lip as he said it, and his eyes were focused on the movement. "Then again, I can always be distracted by something else." Shit.
Lunch was finished before we knew it, and I would love to say we didn't keep up with the flirting, but that would be coloring the truth just a bit. I told myself it was nothing. Friendly even. I mean, it's not like Billy Butcher and I would EVER be attracted to one another. He was grieving for fuck's sake.
We were back on the floor, Billy insisting we move the boxes closer to the desk so we could use the front of it to lean against. "Back's gonna end up in fucking knots," he assured me if we kept hunching over the files without support. Side by side, file by file, we worked.
I don't think I would have noticed the time slipping by if he hadn't mentioned it. I was in the zone, almost robotic in the precision once I got the rhythm going. He'd been working in the same way, quiet and efficient, so when he spoke it almost caused me to jump out of my skin.
"What time do you usually pack it in?" After I was certain my heart hadn't leapt from my chest, I looked at my watch.
"An hour ago," I answered with a chuckle. A glance at the window showed me that the sky was dark, the skyline a scattering of lights. "I've kept you late, I'm sorry." I started to get up, but he stopped me with his hand on my wrist. How could the touch of his fingers on my skin feel like a brand?
"I offered, and I'll keep at it with you as long as you want." My eyes met his and I struggled to find a name for the color I saw. Grey seemed too dull, steel too hard. "Though we might want to grab something to eat, been hours since lunch." As though my stomach was waiting for someone to say it, a loud rumble made me laugh. "See." He smirked, shooting a glance at where my shirt tucked into my pants.
I shook my head. "We're finished for the night," he stood up first, and helped pull me to my feet. "We made a good dent in the boxes." And we had. We'd finished a box each, and were on the second when he noticed the time. I walked around my desk to fetch my heels and my jacket, and saw that he was pulling on his duster and waiting. "I carry a gun, Billy, you don't have to wait."
"I know I don't have to," he said, not moving. "But I'm going to anyway."
Sliding into my heels and tugging on my jacket, I grabbed my bag and badge from where I tossed it onto the desk earlier. "If you insist," we walked out together, Billy taking me to my car and I asked him where he'd parked. He pointed to the other side of the lot so I told him to get in and I'd drive him over. He was going to argue, I could see it in his face, but I stopped him. "Get in the damn car, Mr. Butcher." Smirking, he complied.
He seemed to fill my SUV, which seemed strange given the fact that I practically had to bring a ladder to get into it, and my seat was adjusted so close to the steering wheel that valets couldn't even give it an attempt without readjusting it first.
"You're a tiny little thing, aren't you?" He offered, looking over at me perched in the seat. I rolled my eyes and drove him to his car. "Why'd you pick such a big-"
"Size matters, right?" I asked, and FELT his smirk. "I don't know, honestly." Sure you do, Veronica, my brain answered. You picked it because your father told you a hybrid smart car would be JUST right for you since you're so petite and ladylike. So you went to a dealership and picked out the biggest SUV you could find that had all the features you wanted. Ugh, parent issues. "Here you are." He didn't jump out like I expected him to, after spending all day staring at paperwork I really thought he'd be chomping at the bit to find something more entertaining to end the day with.
"Tomorrow?" He asked, and I smiled.
"If you're offering, then I'll accept the help gladly." His smile, like his laugh, changed his entire look. From the slightly dangerous, yet highly mischievous man that smirked and snarked, to handsome as hell and dangerous in a completely different way. "I'll see you tomorrow, Billy."
"Be here with bells on, Ronnie." And then, like always, he was out of my car and in his car. He never said goodbye, I realized. How strange.
When I got to my house, far enough outside the city that my mother had warned me about being too far from civilization, I was surprised to notice that I didn't feel the tension built up in my entire body that had become something of a constant companion as of late. Maybe Billy was right, sitting in the middle of the room with no back support had given my pain and frustration. Who knew he could be so helpful?