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18 July 2008 @ 09:46 am
Life: A Work In Progress Part 1  
Title: A Work In Progress Part 1: 4 Ways Charlie and Dani's Relationship Progresses & 1 Way It Doesn't
Rating: R (because of language, PG-13 because of sexual content)
Genre:
Characters: Charlie/Dani
Summary: What the title says, four ways their partnership moves on, and one way it doesn’t.
Notes: This is going to be part of a series, they will only be connected in theme though, and probably format. This is completely un-beta’d so any mistakes are mine and mine own completely. This is also my first Life fic, so any criticism on characters would be loved.



4 Ways Charlie and Dani's Relationship Progresses & 1 Way It Doesn't


i. she stops calling him only when there is a dead body
It is late and she smells like a bar. She can feel the men's eyes and the alcohol and the cigarettes embedded into every pore of her body, and she feels so fucking dirty. She gets in her car and she pulls her keys out of the pocket and her hands are shaking so much she can barely get the key into the fucking ignition. After her eleventh failed attempt her head falls with a loud crash to the wheel and she wants to shoot something because her fucking hands won't stop shaking 'cause she can still smell it all stuck to her skin, and her coat, and branded on her mind. She picks up the phone.

There are two rings before she hears: "Did you know that..."

She closes her eyes lets his inanity soothe her. She takes a breath. Her hands have stopped shaking.


ii. food stops becoming his and hers, and becomes theirs.
There's a case. There's always a case, always another dead body. They are sitting across from each other with the body in the middle, squished between his fruit cup and her salad (not literally though, because that would just be weird, even for him). And they have the suspects lined up next to it. They are arguing about who they think it is. And as he finishes a sentences and what has to be a very good argument he looks down to find a fork fleeing with a piece of kiwi. He stares at the space where once was a kiwi, a kiwi that was his, before looking up to find his kiwi half way down her throat. Two seconds later she's telling him he's wrong, and two minutes later he has stolen a piece of feta from her salad. He doesn't mention it, but he notices the next day when she steals a piece of his mango. Her pieces of cheese in her salad, and his pieces of fruit become interchangeable. He stops noticing after awhile though, their food order's become slightly larger for


iii. he learns what hostile is.
She felt it rumbling up inside her. Her father was in a holding cell, her partner had put him there and no one would tell her what the fuck was going on. She wanted to shoot something, no she wanted to shoot someone, actually she wanted to hit something, she wanted to fucking kick, hit, and beat something. "Crews!" Her voice brooked no opposition as she opened the door to the conference room. The rest of the station was silent as they observed the outcast ginger rise from his desk to walk towards the door and the impatient superior detective. Reese waits, not looking at him, until he is on the other side of the room, waits, until the door closes with a quiet thump. "What is going on?!"

"I'm sorry." He finally looks up, he's shocked to find that anger isn't the main emotion in her eyes, oh it is there in large quantities, but it is the disappointment that is the overwhelming force, and it cuts him.

She closes her eyes. "Just tell me what is going on Crews."

Charlie sits down. He starts from the beginning.

After several minutes of silence Reese stood up, her hands palm down on the table. Her head down without looking at him she said: "I could fucking kill you for not telling me what the fuck was going on?"

"I didn't want to place you in the middle."

"But I fucking was in the middle." She hit the table with her fist. She was around the table in five seconds, his chair pulled out, turned around, her hands placed on either side of the back of his chair, and she could have been seducing him if it weren't for the fact that the look in her eyes was full of murder. She pushed the chair back a little and said. "I'm your partner, Crews, your partner." For once since he got out of prison he didn't talk zen as he was threatened.

Reese stepped back. "Fuck Charlie." She ran a hand down her face. Rested the back of her thighs against the table.

He waited. After the silence stretched past into comfort again. He said: "That's hostile."

She coughed out a small laugh. A single exhalation. She could cry but she wasn't going to do that in the precinct.


iv. she only threatens him on the bad days.
He is sitting up in the middle of his too large living room in the middle of the night when he realizes it. That day he had talked incessantly and she had just put up with it. She may have even smiled a little. Yesterday though was one of those days, and he had barely opened his mouth before she was glaring at him with a "I'll shoot you look." He smiles, it's gotten much better.


I. they never learn what personal space is.
His pale, untannable leg intertwined through her darker ones the white higher than god thread-count cotton sheets tangled between their legs.

"That was..."

"Yeah..."

"Are you thinking good or... weird?"

"An odd combination of both." She waits awkward silence beginning to take hold before she lets out a laugh.

It shocks him; he's never heard this type of laugh from her before. It shudders through her body, her breasts moving against his arm as the sound echoes through the large room. He grins into her shoulder. She laughs freely in his bed only straining against his thin limbs instead of everything else. She finally settles down she gently turns him over on his back, she leans down, her hair down finally for him, and she leans in to kiss him, his fingers brushing the small of her back, like always.


Comments are loved.
 
 
Mood: anxiousanxious
Music: She's Well Aware - The Dears