Flirting With Danger Chapter 8

Luke comforts Charlie

 

 

After the second glass of whiskey, Luke had expected to feel at least a little better. He didn't. Neither apparently did Charlie, as her tears hadn't subsided at all. She'd been sobbing now constantly for the past ten minutes at least. It was torturous for Luke, particularly considering that he was forced to just sit there and listen to her without being able to do anything. He sighed and went to turn to take a look at her, but changed his mind and poured himself another drink. Maybe the third one would work?

Nope, but at least Charlie's sobs had faded by then. He'd seen her cry before, but never like that. Something was badly wrong. But what should he do now? She'd told him in no uncertain terms that she didn't want him anywhere near her, so how could he find out what was wrong? He sighed again and ran a hand through his hair. He groaned, and turned to glance back at her. Her head was leaning against the frame of the window and she was staring outside. She stood there so still, just staring.

Contemplating the whiskey bottle again momentarily, he finally gave up on that idea and stood. He'd go and try to talk to her. He took a few steps in her direction but stopped, not having a clue what to say, and still not entirely sure how she would react to him either. He returned to his seat. Toying with his empty whiskey glass, he sat in the silence, cringing at his own inability to do anything.

Time ticked by and the silence stretched on. Still she was standing by that window, staring into space. Damn it, this was unbearable. Enough was enough!

"Charlie, you gonna tell me what's wrong now?" he asked.

No reply.

"Charlie, c'mon," he said, rising again from his seat, but this time not stopping until he was standing beside her. "Charlie?" he placed a hesitant hand on her shoulder, trying to get her attention. She closed her eyes. His voice softened. "Charlie," he insisted, "you gotta tell me what's wrong… c'mon…you gotta," he stressed.

Finally, she took in a deep breath, turned her head slightly and opened her eyes. The light from the room lit the profile of her face, revealing her pain in the red rawness of her eyes and tear soaked cheeks… but she still refused to look at him.

"Charlie, speak to me damn it!" he shouted out, suddenly losing his patience.

The harshness of his voice seemed to shake her out of her trance then. Wiping the excess of tears from her cheeks with two hands, she turned to him at last, looking almost surprised to see him there. He searched her face with a frown.

"I'm sorry," she sighed. It was a shaky sound. "I don't know why…" she trailed off, lifting her eyes to the ceiling. He could see tears forming again as she blinked a few times at an attempt to disperse them. "I don't know where all that came from," she finished, her voice overly cheery as she lowered her gaze to him again.

"Are you kidding me?" he replied incredulously. "You don't cry like that and not know why!"

She groaned and covered her face with her hands. "Look, I just wanted to be alone, but we're locked in this bloody office!" she said, dropping her hands. "If we weren't, then you wouldn't have had to witness that. Can we just drop the subject please and try to get some sleep?"

He shook his head. "No! No we aint dropping the subject. I wanna know what's wrong!"

She stared at him in dismay. She'd have to tell him something. He'd not leave it alone otherwise.

"I urm…" She fiddled with one earlobe. "I suppose seeing you again brought back memories… of before…" Suddenly her throat began to ache and the words got stuck there.

"Before what?" he asked, still at a loss.

Her heart started to beat with anxiety, and with the adrenalin came the threat of more tears. God, she couldn't start crying again! Her mouth became dry though, making it difficult for her to swallow back her emotion. She glanced down at the desk to her right, if only to focus on something.

"Bef…before…" she struggled.

"Before what!" he shouted.

She turned to him then, her watery eyes pleading with him, until she eventually spoke again. "Before my father… before he..." she faded off, unable to finish the sentence.

It only took a few seconds until his eyes widened as realisation hit him. He had a sudden vivid picture in his head of Charlie and her father embracing each other affectionately. He knew, from just seeing them together in the past, what a close relationship she'd had with her father. The pain of losing his own mother was also not a distant memory for him either.

He glanced away from her. "I'm sorry," he said, a little awkwardly. "There any tissues in here?" he asked, suddenly realizing that there was at least something practical he could do for her. It didn't take long for him to find some in one of the desk drawers. He picked up the box and plucked out a few tissues, handing them to her and placing the rest on the desktop beside her.

She wiped her eyes and cheeks, and pushed her hair back off her face, inhaling deeply. "I don't know what's wrong with me. Like I said, I think it was remembering the MI5 years, when he was still here." She bit down on her quivering lip.

"When did he pass away?" Luke asked gently.

She ran a hand through her hair. "Four years ago. Like I said, I don't know why I'm like this now."

He watched her for a moment before speaking. "You know, sometimes people can't grieve proper at the time. Then their bodies kinda take over later. It's all gotta come out eventually," he shrugged.

She gave a weak laugh. "Well, I'd rather it hadn't all come out now…" She paused then and thought for a moment. "…how do you know all of that anyway?"

He leant back against the desk with his hands in his pockets. "When I was working for the NYPD, you know, before they sent me here, some jerk upstairs said I hadda go see a shrink after my father died." He rolled his eyes.

For a moment, a slight frown flickered across her brow, that was until she envisaged him with the shrink and suddenly burst out laughing.

Amusement lit up his face. "What?" he smiled.

"I'm sorry," she said, half laughing, half crying, "I just had a vision of your face as the shrink tried to psychoanalyse you."

He laughed. "Yeah, think I gave him a hard time. I only went twice. Then he recommended I see another shrink. They never pushed it after that."

"I bet."

Okay, so she still had tears streaming down her face but she was smiling now at least. That was a relief. Eventually the laughter in the room faded however, and there ensued an awkward silence, where Charlie averted her face from him, staring at the desktop, and Luke watched silent tears still falling down her face. She'd been through all this and he hadn't even known.

It suddenly hit him then that she was right, seven years was a long time, and a lot had changed. Then doubts flooded his head. They only knew each other because of MI5. Not in a million years would their paths have crossed otherwise. What she'd said had been true; they did live different lives. Police work was the one thing that had brought them together, wasn't it? But now she wasn't an agent anymore. So where did they go from there?

They could be friends. What, see each other every now and then for a coffee? Nah. He wanted to see her every day, like he had before. He wanted the thrill of not knowing what each day would bring working with her, who they would foil, him and Charlie. They had been unbreakable. How could they bring two totally different lives together now though? So what if they found the surveillance discs tomorrow and that was it? What was he going to do? He couldn't just turn and walk away from her forever.

He felt that dilemma even more intensely witnessing her tears. He hated seeing her like that. She always seemed so strong; she was strong enough to deal with hardened criminals for goodness sake! But seeing her so distraught like that made him suddenly realize her vulnerability. If he could just think of the right thing to do or say, maybe it would make everything right again between them. He knew what he wanted to do, but the physical contact hadn't exactly gone too well earlier that evening.

Despite that however, he instinctively took one hand out of his pocket and reached a hesitant arm out to her, catching hold of one of her hands. She lifted questioning eyes to him but the expression of concern on his face took away any caution she might have felt. He uncurled her fingers with his and they held onto that small contact, their fingers clinging to each other's as the moments passed, both hesitant and unsure, until a single tear spilt out over her lashes and dripped down her cheek. It was all the prompting he needed.

"Come here," he said finally, taking his other hand out of his pocket and standing up. She was drawn to him as he placed an arm around her shoulder.

It was meant as the friendly gesture of an ex-partner, who he had shared a lot with, wanting to provide some comfort during a difficult time. But as soon as he felt her near, and her body shaking with grief, his instinct was to hold her closer, to take that pain away if there was any way he could. He felt her cling on to his shirt and that was enough for him to move his other arm around her waist. Now their chests and stomachs were touching in an incredibly warm and intimate way, emphasizing their closeness. God he'd missed her! He could feel her stomach shudder as her grief poured out and he tightened his hold on her, unsure of which he wanted more, to comfort her, or to stop her from slipping out of his life again. He felt her arms creep around his waist and he knew, for at least that moment, that she wanted him there.

Maybe she shouldn't have taken his hand and accepted his embrace, but it seemed silly not to. He knew her; he'd known her for a long time, and, no matter how long he'd been gone for, nothing changed that. There was something so familiar about him, something comforting. Forget all the flirting and innuendos, this was something tangible and real. In whatever unconventional, backhanded way, they could confide in each other. It worked, and it made her feel better…

"Luke, he was just…he was the person who loved me the most in this world," she said, feeling the panic of her father's absence. "I'm afraid now that he's gone," she confided tearfully.

What if everyone left her and she was completely alone?

His arms held her to him a little more closely then. "You don't have to be afraid," he whispered into her ear. "And, I do know too," he assured her. "Charlie…" he hesitated for a moment, unsure of whether to say what was in his head. He decided to risk sharing. "I lost my mother also."

"What?" she pulled away from him then with a frown and covered her mouth. "Oh God, and here I am going on about…"

He shook his head and pulled her back to him. "It's okay. I just wanted to let you know you aint on your own in this." After a short silence he spoke up again. "It's weird, I always just thought she'd be there. Dumb eh."

She felt a sudden pang of guilt for focusing only on her own fears and loneliness, prompting her to verbalise the thing that had haunted her the most about her father's death.

"He was alone…" she admitted, "when it happened. I should have been there. I can't bear to think of him alone," she sobbed. "I don't know how to cope with that."

He had no answers either, his only answer was to lean his head towards hers, brushing his cheek against her temple and resting it there, willing his presence to take away some of her pain.

Her head fell against his shoulder then as she gave into her grief and accepted the support he was giving her.

Now that he felt so close to her, again his fears about them parting came back. There was another reason though why he couldn't just walk away from her. He wasn't leaving her with that Richie guy. For a start, he didn't trust him. There had been something bugging him about the guy and the whole situation for a while. And anyway, even if he was genuine, would he know what made her tick? Would he know when she was being too stubborn and proud to show any weaknesses, when she really needed comforting? Would he sense when there was something wrong and not give up until he found out what it was? Would he know her like her partner did, the person who had faced so much with her, the person who knew her probably more than she knew herself?

His hand lifted to her head then as she rested it against him. He brushed her hair aside, so that his fingers could find her neck, where he caressed her gently in soft comforting strokes.

She really should move away now. He didn't seem inclined to move anytime soon though. Well, a few more moments wouldn't hurt. She should just accept tonight for what it was and not think too much about it. It was neither of their faults that they had been locked in there after all. And anyway, after they had sorted out this murder, she'd probably not see him again. He'd disappear somewhere. She was okay with that…

She reached for him then, grasping onto his arm, and he glanced down at her for a moment, reacting by tightening his hold on her in return. He wanted so much at that moment to know every way that he could comfort her most. He sighed, his breath warm on her neck. He bent his head so that it was next to hers again, his lips hovering on her neck where his fingers had been. He ached to feel her skin against his lips, he suddenly couldn't think about anything else. They were so close to her neck, her soft skin, it was so incredibly hard for him to hold back, but his fear of her withdrawal from their physical contact earlier stopped him.

He held her there in silence for as long as he could, until finally, begrudgingly, he was forced to release her. His embrace lightened and his arms slipped to her waist as he stepped back, still reluctant to give up that last contact.

His eyes were soft and smoky, and when he spoke, his voice was not much more than a whisper.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here for you," he said. She knew that had come from his heart and it brought fresh tears to her eyes. What the hell, he'd seen her cry now anyway.

"And me for you," she replied, suddenly regretting the loss of those seven years.

He reached out and wiped a tear away with his thumb. "And I know it aint making up for nothing Charlie, but I'm here for you now," he said.