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tamingthemuseTitle: What I Didn't Say
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
defy_n_gravity
Characters: Eliot Spencer/Fiona Glenanne [Leverage/Burn Notice]
Rating: T
Words: 1116
Disclaimer: Don't have any claim on Burn Notice or Leverage or any of it's characters.
Warning: n/a
Author's Notes: Season 1-ish for Fiona, pre-series for Eliot.
Summary: Eliot dropped through Miami to help an old friend, and his flight hasn't come soon enough.
Fiona sat beside Eliot at the bar and watched him bring the bottle to his lips and take a sip. He looked at her from the corner of his eyes. “You don't hafta sit here,” he said.
“If you don't want my company, Eliot, you can just say so.”
His brows went up slowly and he shrugged. “Never said that.”
She smirked and rested her chin in her hand. “What is it with men and their inability to say what they actually want?”
Eliot glanced at her and sipped his beer again. “You askin' about me or Mr. Hero?”
Fiona stiffened a bit and dropped her hand, leaning back on her stool. “It was just a rhetorical question.”
“Uh huh.”
She rolled her eyes. “If I wanted your opinion on Michael...well, I wouldn't.” Eliot watched her and she held his gaze for a bit before shaking her head and glancing away. “I know you don't have a high opinion of him, but...he's...it's complicated.”
“Never did get the appeal of complicated.”
“It isn't appealing,” she argued. “It...just is. There's a lot of history.”
“We've all got history, Fiona.”
She looked away again. “What can I say? It's my purpose in life to wait on men to figure things out and make their move.”
Eliot watched the back of her head with narrowed eyes and shook his head. He drained the last of his beer and set the bottle down. “Some guys don't wanna fight a losin' battle,” he finally said, quietly. Fiona turned and looked at him at that. Their eyes locked for several moments before she spoke.
“Meaning?”
He shrugged again and turned his attention to order another beer. “I've only got time for one more before my flight,” he said. He didn't look at her.
“I'm not going anywhere yet,” she said stubbornly. She moved around on her stool, crossing her legs the opposite way from him. “Why do you do that? You say things and...” She waved her hand.
It was awhile before he responded. “And?”
“Forget it. I actually do have somewhere to be.” She started to get up and he let her, but before she could actually walk away he grabbed her wrist and yanked her towards him. She stumbled on her heels into him and reached for his shoulder to steady herself.
He looked up at her. His voice stayed soft with their close proximity. “He's always there, Fi. Every time I see you.”
He had taken her by surprise, and her composure has slipped. “I...he...I don't-”
His thumb brushed the pulse point on the underside of her wrist. “If he's so great why're you here?”
Her heart pounded in her chest, and her blood pulsated through he veins and down the pit of her stomach. “It's not that simple,” she murmured, trying to pull her wrist away. She couldn't look at him. “He...”
Eliot let go of her and turned back to his beer. He lifted it to his lips. “Maybe you should kick 'im off that pedestal,” he muttered before taking a sip.
Fiona adjusted her purse over her shoulder and took a step back from him. “Stop...acting like you know the story,” she said calmly, before turning and walking to the door.
Eliot didn't respond or go after her. He just let her go.
***
Eliot walked out the door of the bar, intent on getting a cab to the airport, and saw Fiona sitting in her car in the parking lot. He stood on the edge of the lot for awhile just watching her, then he heaved a sigh and went over. He set a hand to the top of the car and bent over into the window.
“Still here,” he stated.
Her eyes kept forward with her hands on the steering wheel. Her face was set. “He's the most...complicated man I know,” she murmured. “He's the most brave...caring...frustrating man, and...” Her hand left the wheel to brush her hair off her forehead, as she tried to keep her emotions in check. “Yes, he's on a pedestal. He will always be on a pedestal. It doesn't matter how imperfect the lo-” She paused, the words 'love of your life' on her tongue, and shook her head. “That person will always be on a pedestal.”
Eliot watched her closely as she spoke and he let her words hover in the air between them for a beat or two. He reached through the window and repeated her action of brushing her hair off of her forehead. He didn't know what to say to that, or maybe he did and didn't know how to get it out. Either way he didn't say anything.
Her head finally turned and she looked up at him, holding his gaze. “He'll always be there, Eliot,” she said. “I can't change that.”
He nodded and let his hand brush against her cheek gently, then he stood up and moved back. “It was good seein' you again,” he said. He held her eyes a moment longer, then turned to walk away. She watched him go, unsure what to make of any of that conversation.
His cab had pulled up in front of the bar and he was making his way to it. The bottom of her palm slammed into her steering wheel. “Damnit!” Then she pushed her door open and started across the parking lot. “You sonuvabitch!” She yelled after him.
He spun around, his eyes narrowing. “Excuse me?”
“You're leaving? Just like that?” She stalked towards him.
“I've got a flight,” he snapped.
She stopped in front of him and raised a finger to his face. “Just because you don't have the balls to-” His gaze darkened, eyes narrowing more, and he cut her off by grabbing onto her and closing his mouth on hers.
She gasped in surprise into the kiss, but her body melted against his and her hands fell against his shoulders. There was a slight groan in his throat as his arms went around her waist, pulling her hips into his. Her fingers moved up through his hair as the kiss deepened for several beats, until they pulled apart searching for their breath. His hands brushed her hips a moment more, but then he let go and stepped back. She watched him questioningly and her lips moved wordlessly.
He glanced over his shoulder to the cab then looked at her again. “I've got a flight.”
Fiona cleared her throat and stood taller. “Right. Of course.” He watched her a bit longer before turning and sliding into the cab. She didn't stop him. She didn't know how to. And he didn't look at her as the car pulled out of the lot.
Author:
defy_n_gravityCharacters: Eliot Spencer/Fiona Glenanne [Leverage/Burn Notice]
Rating: T
Words: 1116
Disclaimer: Don't have any claim on Burn Notice or Leverage or any of it's characters.
Warning: n/a
Author's Notes: Season 1-ish for Fiona, pre-series for Eliot.
Summary: Eliot dropped through Miami to help an old friend, and his flight hasn't come soon enough.
Fiona sat beside Eliot at the bar and watched him bring the bottle to his lips and take a sip. He looked at her from the corner of his eyes. “You don't hafta sit here,” he said.
“If you don't want my company, Eliot, you can just say so.”
His brows went up slowly and he shrugged. “Never said that.”
She smirked and rested her chin in her hand. “What is it with men and their inability to say what they actually want?”
Eliot glanced at her and sipped his beer again. “You askin' about me or Mr. Hero?”
Fiona stiffened a bit and dropped her hand, leaning back on her stool. “It was just a rhetorical question.”
“Uh huh.”
She rolled her eyes. “If I wanted your opinion on Michael...well, I wouldn't.” Eliot watched her and she held his gaze for a bit before shaking her head and glancing away. “I know you don't have a high opinion of him, but...he's...it's complicated.”
“Never did get the appeal of complicated.”
“It isn't appealing,” she argued. “It...just is. There's a lot of history.”
“We've all got history, Fiona.”
She looked away again. “What can I say? It's my purpose in life to wait on men to figure things out and make their move.”
Eliot watched the back of her head with narrowed eyes and shook his head. He drained the last of his beer and set the bottle down. “Some guys don't wanna fight a losin' battle,” he finally said, quietly. Fiona turned and looked at him at that. Their eyes locked for several moments before she spoke.
“Meaning?”
He shrugged again and turned his attention to order another beer. “I've only got time for one more before my flight,” he said. He didn't look at her.
“I'm not going anywhere yet,” she said stubbornly. She moved around on her stool, crossing her legs the opposite way from him. “Why do you do that? You say things and...” She waved her hand.
It was awhile before he responded. “And?”
“Forget it. I actually do have somewhere to be.” She started to get up and he let her, but before she could actually walk away he grabbed her wrist and yanked her towards him. She stumbled on her heels into him and reached for his shoulder to steady herself.
He looked up at her. His voice stayed soft with their close proximity. “He's always there, Fi. Every time I see you.”
He had taken her by surprise, and her composure has slipped. “I...he...I don't-”
His thumb brushed the pulse point on the underside of her wrist. “If he's so great why're you here?”
Her heart pounded in her chest, and her blood pulsated through he veins and down the pit of her stomach. “It's not that simple,” she murmured, trying to pull her wrist away. She couldn't look at him. “He...”
Eliot let go of her and turned back to his beer. He lifted it to his lips. “Maybe you should kick 'im off that pedestal,” he muttered before taking a sip.
Fiona adjusted her purse over her shoulder and took a step back from him. “Stop...acting like you know the story,” she said calmly, before turning and walking to the door.
Eliot didn't respond or go after her. He just let her go.
Eliot walked out the door of the bar, intent on getting a cab to the airport, and saw Fiona sitting in her car in the parking lot. He stood on the edge of the lot for awhile just watching her, then he heaved a sigh and went over. He set a hand to the top of the car and bent over into the window.
“Still here,” he stated.
Her eyes kept forward with her hands on the steering wheel. Her face was set. “He's the most...complicated man I know,” she murmured. “He's the most brave...caring...frustrating man, and...” Her hand left the wheel to brush her hair off her forehead, as she tried to keep her emotions in check. “Yes, he's on a pedestal. He will always be on a pedestal. It doesn't matter how imperfect the lo-” She paused, the words 'love of your life' on her tongue, and shook her head. “That person will always be on a pedestal.”
Eliot watched her closely as she spoke and he let her words hover in the air between them for a beat or two. He reached through the window and repeated her action of brushing her hair off of her forehead. He didn't know what to say to that, or maybe he did and didn't know how to get it out. Either way he didn't say anything.
Her head finally turned and she looked up at him, holding his gaze. “He'll always be there, Eliot,” she said. “I can't change that.”
He nodded and let his hand brush against her cheek gently, then he stood up and moved back. “It was good seein' you again,” he said. He held her eyes a moment longer, then turned to walk away. She watched him go, unsure what to make of any of that conversation.
His cab had pulled up in front of the bar and he was making his way to it. The bottom of her palm slammed into her steering wheel. “Damnit!” Then she pushed her door open and started across the parking lot. “You sonuvabitch!” She yelled after him.
He spun around, his eyes narrowing. “Excuse me?”
“You're leaving? Just like that?” She stalked towards him.
“I've got a flight,” he snapped.
She stopped in front of him and raised a finger to his face. “Just because you don't have the balls to-” His gaze darkened, eyes narrowing more, and he cut her off by grabbing onto her and closing his mouth on hers.
She gasped in surprise into the kiss, but her body melted against his and her hands fell against his shoulders. There was a slight groan in his throat as his arms went around her waist, pulling her hips into his. Her fingers moved up through his hair as the kiss deepened for several beats, until they pulled apart searching for their breath. His hands brushed her hips a moment more, but then he let go and stepped back. She watched him questioningly and her lips moved wordlessly.
He glanced over his shoulder to the cab then looked at her again. “I've got a flight.”
Fiona cleared her throat and stood taller. “Right. Of course.” He watched her a bit longer before turning and sliding into the cab. She didn't stop him. She didn't know how to. And he didn't look at her as the car pulled out of the lot.
