Fic: Impossible Longing (Heroes/X-Men)
Title: Impossible Longing
Fandoms: Heroes/X-Men Movieverse
Pairing: Special Agent Audrey Hanson and Scott "Cyclops" Summers
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 1400
NOTES: X3 doesn't exist in my Movieverse canon. This is also influenced a bit by comicsverse and, of course, "Heroes" canon.
Written for medie's Because We're Awesome Drabble-a-thon and, of course, it got all huge and un-comment!fic-ish. The prompt was "Audrey/Scott, grief". No, I don't know where it came from either, but hey, I finished something, yay!
Enjoy!
At first, Audrey damned Sylar for making her the go-to-girl in the FBI for anything vaguely Mulderish, instead of the real cases she wanted to pursue. But the Sylar case got her the clearance to see the file on Erik Lensherr, and she realized Sylar wasn't the only boogeyman with superhuman powers. Luckily she also found out Parkman wasn't the only superhuman who wanted to do good. A year later she was on the Metahuman Taskforce ("Metahuman" was the government's new term, after Senator Kelly had denounced 'mutant' as offensive; Audrey thought 'metahuman' was a dumb made-up word, but they didn't ask her), and soon after she became the taskforce's liaison to the secret mutant team, codenamed X-Factor, who took down the criminals who couldn't be stopped by bullets. It was a bit close to vigilantism for her taste, but they were officially sanctioned by Congress. And well, she couldn't complain too much...
Because that was how she met Scott Summers, the leader of X-Factor.
Every time she had to brief him on some threat, she berated herself that she wasn't a teenager. But she felt like one - her heart began to beat faster and her stomach tightened up until she almost felt sick whenever he was near. She hated the amused glances Wolverine sent at her, and the way Xavier's expression always seemed pitying whenever she and Scott were in the same room. Scott, luckily, seemed to be completely oblivious. He focused on her information and treated her politely. After five meetings and one memorable joint operation, she had no idea if he even knew what she looked like.
But, boy, did she know what he looked like. Oddly enough, when he was in a polo shirt and khakis she found him even more attractive than the black leather uniform, which seemed backward, but she couldn't help it. He never smiled in her presence and of course she couldn't see his eyes under the glasses, but that didn't matter. Between that body and the face and the sharp intelligence he showed analyzing her intel, he had a hold on her without even trying. She didn't know if he was taken, and she didn't want to ask, since that felt like validating her stupid crush. So she held to her jaded-cop attitude in his presence and waited for the crush to go away.
So far she'd waited in vain.
It didn't help that they were alone today, and she had freedom to look at him, while he examined the current casefile, taking notes on a legal pad.
She cleared her throat to keep her voice professional, and pushed the last photo across the table to him. "And this is the photo of his second victim. She drowned. On dry land."
The pen in his hand snapped, making her jump.
"Sorry," he said, gaze down at the puddle of ink on his notes as he put the pieces aside. His jaw tightened and the words came hard, but he explained. "My fiancee drowned. Two years ago."
She had no idea what to say to that. It hadn't been in his file. His grief hit her like a bullet - it was tangible and sharp, still raw. The kind of grief that would put his fiancee up on a pedestal forever. Worse, she knew the lost fiancee had to be Doctor Grey, and Audrey had seen pictures. The woman had been gorgeous, and Scott had obviously been in love with her. Damn. "I. I'm sorry."
He shook his head, but wasn't listening to her. "She was a telepath. And I still feel her - still hear her in my head." His fists were tight, pushing against the table top. The muscles of his shoulders strained at his shirt and pulled her eyes to the tanned skin of his throat and chest at the open collar, and even while she cursed herself for being insensitive and shallow, she couldn't look away, imagining what he'd look like without his shirt on.
He glanced up at her abruptly, and her cheeks went hot, caught staring.
"Except around you," he said and got to his feet. Despite being unable to see his eyes, she knew he was looking into her eyes and seeing every last dirty fantasy she'd had about him on her days off. "Why is that, Audrey?" he murmured. A shiver went through her at the sound of her name -- he'd never called her anything but Agent Hanson before. "Why do I know she's gone when you're around?"
"I, uh, I don't know," she lied, stammering, but forcing herself to stay focused on him and not look away. "I'm not a mutant. Just a cop."
"Just a cop," he repeated, laughing a little. "Right. A cop who investigates us mutie freaks, with nothing but a gun and your attitude to protect you. And yet you do it. You are fearless."
She shook her head, but inside wanted to take his admiring words and bronze them. But aloud she retorted, "Hardly."
His lips lifted in a faint amused smile that dropped away as his fingers lifted to her cheek, and she held her breath, not wanting to break the spell. One finger slid down her nose to her lips before he lifted it away. "I wish I had that sort of courage," he murmured. She wanted to protest, since she'd watched him throw himself into deadly fights when she'd stayed in the car. But she couldn't find her voice when she still felt his touch.
"Sometimes I think I'm entirely too good at surviving," he added, and though he spoke lightly, as if he didn't mean it, she knew he did.
When he turned away, her hand shot out to grab his wrist and pull him back. "Scott." All the words she wanted to say got tangled up her throat - about how surviving and living weren't the same thing, how death wishes tended to get everyone else killed, how she wanted him so badly she had to get herself off as soon as she was alone, and how she didn't have any courage at all. But none of the words made it out, so instead she moved.
He had six inches and fifty pounds of muscle on her, not to mention superpowers that could reduce her to ash, so she knew he wanted it as much as she did. When she pulled him into her, he didn't resist, and her mouth found his. Her fingers gripped those taut shoulders as they itched to do. The first touch made her shudder, right down deep, and she went up on her toes to press into him. His hands framed her face as she opened her mouth to let him in, and her hands seemed to have a mind of their own, sliding down his chest to his waist and under his shirt. His skin was furnace-hot, but goosebumps broke across her in waves because he felt so good.
For an eternity, she had no thoughts, just the heady knowledge that reality was so much better than her limited imagination had led her to believe.
Her tongue was in his mouth, and her hands sliding on his back, trying to get his leg between hers, aching for some pressure, when the sudden sound of a bell chiming the hour broke into the haze. A girl yelling right outside the door made them both spring apart, guilty and flushed.
She swallowed hard and took a deep breath, trying to calm down. She smoothed her hair and tucked the front ends behind her ears.
"I, uh-- I'm -- " he started, as if he was about to apologize and then had second thoughts. Or he couldn't catch his breath either. The thought made her smile.
"Maybe ... we should work first," she suggested.
He nodded. "Work first. Finish your briefing so I can start planning the op. And then when we come back, would you ... would you like to go get coffee? Just us?" he asked, shifting his weight and holding his hands tense at his side. But he was looking at her, right at her, she could feel it.
"I'd like that." And then glancing at the door to make sure it was still shut, she leaned forward and murmured, "Afterward we need to find some place not overrun by teenagers."
His sudden smile was impossible to resist returning, bright and sudden as if a cloud had suddenly lifted away. "Definitely."
They both pulled on the mantle of serious professionalism and went back to work. But even while she was relating the gory details, a small smile tugged at her lips.
She couldn't wait to close this case.
Fandoms: Heroes/X-Men Movieverse
Pairing: Special Agent Audrey Hanson and Scott "Cyclops" Summers
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 1400
NOTES: X3 doesn't exist in my Movieverse canon. This is also influenced a bit by comicsverse and, of course, "Heroes" canon.
Written for medie's Because We're Awesome Drabble-a-thon and, of course, it got all huge and un-comment!fic-ish. The prompt was "Audrey/Scott, grief". No, I don't know where it came from either, but hey, I finished something, yay!
Enjoy!
At first, Audrey damned Sylar for making her the go-to-girl in the FBI for anything vaguely Mulderish, instead of the real cases she wanted to pursue. But the Sylar case got her the clearance to see the file on Erik Lensherr, and she realized Sylar wasn't the only boogeyman with superhuman powers. Luckily she also found out Parkman wasn't the only superhuman who wanted to do good. A year later she was on the Metahuman Taskforce ("Metahuman" was the government's new term, after Senator Kelly had denounced 'mutant' as offensive; Audrey thought 'metahuman' was a dumb made-up word, but they didn't ask her), and soon after she became the taskforce's liaison to the secret mutant team, codenamed X-Factor, who took down the criminals who couldn't be stopped by bullets. It was a bit close to vigilantism for her taste, but they were officially sanctioned by Congress. And well, she couldn't complain too much...
Because that was how she met Scott Summers, the leader of X-Factor.
Every time she had to brief him on some threat, she berated herself that she wasn't a teenager. But she felt like one - her heart began to beat faster and her stomach tightened up until she almost felt sick whenever he was near. She hated the amused glances Wolverine sent at her, and the way Xavier's expression always seemed pitying whenever she and Scott were in the same room. Scott, luckily, seemed to be completely oblivious. He focused on her information and treated her politely. After five meetings and one memorable joint operation, she had no idea if he even knew what she looked like.
But, boy, did she know what he looked like. Oddly enough, when he was in a polo shirt and khakis she found him even more attractive than the black leather uniform, which seemed backward, but she couldn't help it. He never smiled in her presence and of course she couldn't see his eyes under the glasses, but that didn't matter. Between that body and the face and the sharp intelligence he showed analyzing her intel, he had a hold on her without even trying. She didn't know if he was taken, and she didn't want to ask, since that felt like validating her stupid crush. So she held to her jaded-cop attitude in his presence and waited for the crush to go away.
So far she'd waited in vain.
It didn't help that they were alone today, and she had freedom to look at him, while he examined the current casefile, taking notes on a legal pad.
She cleared her throat to keep her voice professional, and pushed the last photo across the table to him. "And this is the photo of his second victim. She drowned. On dry land."
The pen in his hand snapped, making her jump.
"Sorry," he said, gaze down at the puddle of ink on his notes as he put the pieces aside. His jaw tightened and the words came hard, but he explained. "My fiancee drowned. Two years ago."
She had no idea what to say to that. It hadn't been in his file. His grief hit her like a bullet - it was tangible and sharp, still raw. The kind of grief that would put his fiancee up on a pedestal forever. Worse, she knew the lost fiancee had to be Doctor Grey, and Audrey had seen pictures. The woman had been gorgeous, and Scott had obviously been in love with her. Damn. "I. I'm sorry."
He shook his head, but wasn't listening to her. "She was a telepath. And I still feel her - still hear her in my head." His fists were tight, pushing against the table top. The muscles of his shoulders strained at his shirt and pulled her eyes to the tanned skin of his throat and chest at the open collar, and even while she cursed herself for being insensitive and shallow, she couldn't look away, imagining what he'd look like without his shirt on.
He glanced up at her abruptly, and her cheeks went hot, caught staring.
"Except around you," he said and got to his feet. Despite being unable to see his eyes, she knew he was looking into her eyes and seeing every last dirty fantasy she'd had about him on her days off. "Why is that, Audrey?" he murmured. A shiver went through her at the sound of her name -- he'd never called her anything but Agent Hanson before. "Why do I know she's gone when you're around?"
"I, uh, I don't know," she lied, stammering, but forcing herself to stay focused on him and not look away. "I'm not a mutant. Just a cop."
"Just a cop," he repeated, laughing a little. "Right. A cop who investigates us mutie freaks, with nothing but a gun and your attitude to protect you. And yet you do it. You are fearless."
She shook her head, but inside wanted to take his admiring words and bronze them. But aloud she retorted, "Hardly."
His lips lifted in a faint amused smile that dropped away as his fingers lifted to her cheek, and she held her breath, not wanting to break the spell. One finger slid down her nose to her lips before he lifted it away. "I wish I had that sort of courage," he murmured. She wanted to protest, since she'd watched him throw himself into deadly fights when she'd stayed in the car. But she couldn't find her voice when she still felt his touch.
"Sometimes I think I'm entirely too good at surviving," he added, and though he spoke lightly, as if he didn't mean it, she knew he did.
When he turned away, her hand shot out to grab his wrist and pull him back. "Scott." All the words she wanted to say got tangled up her throat - about how surviving and living weren't the same thing, how death wishes tended to get everyone else killed, how she wanted him so badly she had to get herself off as soon as she was alone, and how she didn't have any courage at all. But none of the words made it out, so instead she moved.
He had six inches and fifty pounds of muscle on her, not to mention superpowers that could reduce her to ash, so she knew he wanted it as much as she did. When she pulled him into her, he didn't resist, and her mouth found his. Her fingers gripped those taut shoulders as they itched to do. The first touch made her shudder, right down deep, and she went up on her toes to press into him. His hands framed her face as she opened her mouth to let him in, and her hands seemed to have a mind of their own, sliding down his chest to his waist and under his shirt. His skin was furnace-hot, but goosebumps broke across her in waves because he felt so good.
For an eternity, she had no thoughts, just the heady knowledge that reality was so much better than her limited imagination had led her to believe.
Her tongue was in his mouth, and her hands sliding on his back, trying to get his leg between hers, aching for some pressure, when the sudden sound of a bell chiming the hour broke into the haze. A girl yelling right outside the door made them both spring apart, guilty and flushed.
She swallowed hard and took a deep breath, trying to calm down. She smoothed her hair and tucked the front ends behind her ears.
"I, uh-- I'm -- " he started, as if he was about to apologize and then had second thoughts. Or he couldn't catch his breath either. The thought made her smile.
"Maybe ... we should work first," she suggested.
He nodded. "Work first. Finish your briefing so I can start planning the op. And then when we come back, would you ... would you like to go get coffee? Just us?" he asked, shifting his weight and holding his hands tense at his side. But he was looking at her, right at her, she could feel it.
"I'd like that." And then glancing at the door to make sure it was still shut, she leaned forward and murmured, "Afterward we need to find some place not overrun by teenagers."
His sudden smile was impossible to resist returning, bright and sudden as if a cloud had suddenly lifted away. "Definitely."
They both pulled on the mantle of serious professionalism and went back to work. But even while she was relating the gory details, a small smile tugged at her lips.
She couldn't wait to close this case.