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Holly Jasmine Page ([info]shewhodrifts) wrote in [info]commandhq,
@ 2018-04-16 09:02:00
Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
Who: Holly Page & Scott Deacon
What: Of Sunday evening drinking and naps.
When: April 15th, evening. A little after this.
Where: Scott's room
Rating: PG-13 (swears)

After having seen Jett and reassuring herself that Victor’s random desire to go and make a boy band hadn't done any lasting damage to the psyche of one of her team members, Holly headed back to her own room and grabbed a large bottle of unopened whiskey that she'd been saving for... some kind of occasion. Once she had alcohol, she headed to Scott's room.

She tapped twice on the door before letting herself in, closing it and locking it after she did so because whilst she wasn't expecting anyone to come in and see Scott, she had no desire to be interrupted while she grabbed the sleep she so sorely needed. And some alcohol and good company wouldn't go amiss; she was intending on making sure Scott wasn't left alone if she could get away with it because honestly she was concerned about him.

Grief was a funny thing, it affected everyone differently and she knew - she'd seen it before - that Scott threw himself into work to distract himself from what he was feeling and she had no desire to let him get wrapped up in it. She didn't want him to get lost in his own grief or avoid seeing Adelaide for as long as he might want to.

He still looked tired, but then she probably did too with her wild hair unstraightened and her jet-lagged self just struggling to maintain basic motor functions.

"Hey, you," she murmured, lifting the bottle and offering Scott a small and tired, but genuine, smile. She couldn't help the way her expression softened whenever she saw him.

Scott had been hunched over at his desk doing some paperwork and adding some file notes for his agents as work was a welcome reprieve from the overwhelming crushing grief that kept playing on his mind whenever it wasn’t kept busy when Holly let herself into his room.

“Hey,” he returned with a much lower and slower drawl than he normally did as his accent tended to come out more when he was tired or drunk. Clearly he wasn’t drunk so it was definitely the former. He could tell Holly was tired as well though it was really good to see her especially the glory of her natural hair when she hadn’t taken a pair of straighteners to it, he had rather vivid memories of having his hands in that hair. Okay, not the time, Scott smirked a moment later as she lifted the bottle up.

Scott put his pen down and rose to his feet, meeting Holly halfway. “How was Japan?”

“I got to shoot someone,” Holly said with a lift of her shoulder, stopping when Scott met her half way, looking up at him with an arched eyebrow. The low, thick drawl of his accent rippled over her and she drew in a slow breath through her nose to control the twist in her stomach, the way her eyes drifted a little before she lifted the bottle up between them, not that there was much space. “So that was a bonus. Whatever we found, though, it’s pretty serious. The captive was shipped off immediately on landing, we’ve given samples to Dr Popov. But,” she said, moving a little to take hold of Scott’s arm, hand catching the crook of his elbow gently and drawing him towards the bed where she sat down on the edge. “I didn’t come over to talk about work.”

She waited for him to join her and then unscrewed the cap of the bottle. Her knuckles were a little bruised from where she’d gotten physical, too, during the fight.

“I’m here to check on you. You look like you haven’t slept properly in a few days.” She nudged his upper arm with her shoulder and sat so that they were pressed next to each other, knees to shoulders touching. “So askin’ you if you’re okay is redundant, I guess.”

“Yay for getting to shoot somebody,” Scott remarked with a small laugh before he allowed himself to be drawn in the direction of the bed here where he took a seat next to Holly as she made herself comfortable.

He noted the bruises on her knuckle but said nothing of it because Holly was more than capable of taking care of herself and bruises were to be expected in any physical altercation.

“Yeah, definitely redundant,” Scott muttered with a small smirk. “I’m just focusing on one thing at a time.”

Holly pressed a kiss to his shoulder and offered him the open bottle. “I’m not encouraging a descent into alcoholism as a coping mechanism, by the way,” she said, having taken a sip herself before passing it over.

“One thing at a time is a good way of dealing,” she responded, looping her arm through Scott’s softly. “You wanna talk?” She paused, adding a moment later, “That’s not really a question.”

“Uh huh,” Scott drawled as he took a hold of the open bottle and he tipped it to his lips to take a slow pull. “I want to talk as much as I want to finish my paperwork.” Which was not at all.

He rolled the bottle between the palms of his hands before passing it back to Holly.

“Honestly? I just feel… I dunno, numb?”

Holly rolled her eyes a little, taking the bottle back and repeating the action, telling herself she could only imagine the taste of him lingering around the lip of the glass. It didn’t work like that, if only she could convince herself of that fact. Being here was a bad idea, she knew that, but she couldn’t leave him alone. She wouldn’t leave him alone.

She sighed heavily and nudged him with her shoulder again, gentle and affectionate.

“That’s okay, you know. To feel numb. I mean, it’s one of the stages of grief. Or something. And considering what’s just happened that… that’s a… it’s a big fucking mess.”

Scott turned his head at the soft affectionate nudge of his shoulder and gave a small smile as there was something about Holly that always made him feel… better. The rest of the world could be falling apart but as long as he had Holly then he could definitely tackle anything. Kind of a frightening thought really, especially as they were supposed to be broken up and just over this thing whatever that thing was.

“Huge fucking mess,” he agreed.

He blew out a breath and nudged Holly back.

At the nudge, Holly turned her head and kissed Scott’s shoulder again before she rested her head there, taking a few long pulls of the drink. She passed the bottle back and settled where she was, one arm looped through Scott’s as she caught the fingers of his free hand with hers.

“And it’s alright to feel like a fucking mess, too,” she added. “But I’m here for whatever you need,” she said softly, tipping her head to look up at him. “For as long as you need it.”

Scott inhaled slow as Holly kissed his shoulder and rested her head against him, ignoring that all too familiar pull that had in the past resulted in them wearing a whole lot less clothes and pressed skin to skin. As her fingers entangled with his he squeezed her hand, pressing the full breadth and width of his palm against hers until he couldn’t differentiate her warmth from his.

“I appreciate that,” he said after a quiet moment before taking a sip of the whiskey.

“Where else am I gonna be?” Holly asked, squeezing his hand back, “As if I’m gonna let you go through this alone.” It was difficult, sitting so close to him and keeping to herself when all she wanted to do was put her arms around him and do something to try and make him feel better.

She felt like being there wasn’t enough, that she should somehow just be able to fix this for him. But there was nothing she could punch, no one she could shoot, no one she could force into making some kind of decision or pulling some strings that would make this better.

They lapsed, for a while, into a comfortable silence, Holly’s head resting on Scott’s shoulder as they steadily worked their way through the bottle until Holly could feel it starting to make her head feel a little… swirly.

“You know,” she said, their hands interlaced as she lifted the hand she had hold of, playing absently with Scott’s fingers, “I think I’ve prolly had enough to drink for now. You can finish the rest.”

Lifting her head, she added, indignantly even though Scott hadn’t said anything, “And this is not because I can’t hold my drink, thank you very much, it’s because I’m jet-lagged and tired and I’ve only eaten a donut today.” Pause. “‘M not drunk.”

Scott turned his head as Holly began to play with his fingers and then smirked when she admitted she'd probably had enough to drink though just as he'd been about to comment she'd already called him out on his train of thought.

"Alright, alright," he said with a small laugh as he took one last final pull before deciding that he should probably stop before he finished the entire bottle and regretted it later. "You forget that I have watched you drink grown ass marines under the table."

He placed the bottle down and reached up to push some of Holly's curls off her face. "You sure you're not drunk?"

Holly hummed as Scott’s fingers brushed her face, tilting her head into the touch even though he was just pushing her hair away. Her eyes drifted half closed and she turned just a moment too late which was probably good- Scott’s hand was behind her ear now so she couldn’t do the impulsive thing to kiss his palm. Instead, she lifted one hand and curled it around his wrist, looking up at him through her lashes.

“Well, I’m not sober,” she responded, catching her lower lip between her teeth, “But I’m not drunk. Probably just tipsy? I mean, tipsy and tired. I did tell you I’d be falling asleep when I got here, and I’m still awake, so…” she giggled, “I think I’m winning on the original plan. Awake and not drunk.”

She saw that he’d put the bottle down and that there was still some left. “Not gonna finish it off?” Squinting, she added, “Why are you asking me if I’m drunk or not?”

Scott resisted the urge to laugh at the absurdly girlish giggle that escaped Holly especially as he knew just how safe she had to feel to let herself be that vulnerable so he wasn’t about to make her feel self conscious about anything in his company. His gaze didn’t at all slip to where her teeth had hooked around her lower lip, no, not at all. Only it totally had, but he’d caught it quick enough so it wasn’t noticeable.

“Just checking,” he assured her. “But now that you’ve confirmed that you’re tipsy and tired I think it’s about time we wrapped this up and you,” he said with an affectionate touch of his finger to the tip of Holly’s nose, “get some sleep.”

Holly crossed her eyes to track the movement of Scott’s finger to her nose and she frowned at it, before she wrinkled her nose and leaned back a little, biting playfully at the air when his hand fell away from her face.

“Yeah, you’re right,” she agreed reluctantly, rubbing at her face. “Sleep is necessary. For you too. You look like you’ve not slept properly in ages. So,” she affected a stern face that was far more effective when her eyes weren’t alight with obvious affection, “you need to sleep too. C’mon pretty boy, get your butt in bed.”

Scott did chuckle at the attempted bite of his finger by Holly and rolled his eyes a moment later when she all but demanded he get some sleep. “Bossy,” he retorted though that was no surprise to anyone as this was Holly Page after all.

He stepped off the bed and moved to catch Holly’s laces in his fingers at which point he loosened them and tugged off her boots as she definitely wasn’t going to be comfortable if she slept in her shoes. The boots he rested beside the bed before he scrubbed his fingers over his short hair and then toed off his own boots and stripped down to a t-shirt and boxers, if he was going to sleep he might as well do it right.

“You gonna move over for me or you plan on hogging the bed?” He asked with a small teasing smile.

Holly snorted and watched as Scott stripped off, eyes lingering before she caught herself just shy of drawing that lip back into her mouth. She stood herself, shrugged out of her jacket and threw it over a nearby chair, stripping out of her jeans and, with her back to Scott, rifled through his closet for a t-shirt she could wear. The one she slept in was in her room, and that was too far away right now.

“Mm, I might share,” she said, tugging off her own t-shirt and slipping into Scott’s. It hung to her mid thigh. Female wizardry followed a second later and she divested herself of her bra, throwing that over to join her jacket and jeans.

She yawned, still in her socks, and she sat down on one side of the bed, pushing her fingers through her hair and turning her head to look at Scott properly. Since he hadn’t settled, Holly just slipped under the covers and wriggled into the middle with a grin.

“You just gotta ask nicely.”

Scott couldn’t help himself, he watched as the bra went flying off, and he totally didn’t let his imagination stray too far or he was getting no sleep and that was not what this was about. He arched an eyebrow. “Nicely huh?”

He came over to the bed and lifted the covers.

“How nicely is nicely?”

Holly’s head lolled to the side as Scott lifted the sheets and she looked up at him and she shrugged, not even moving a little. Her mind was rapidly derailed, the creeping sensation that this situation was about to get rapidly out of their control. Not!Drunk or not, she knew better than this. Knew this wasn’t a line they should cross and especially not right now when alcohol was involved. Or ever, but she largely felt as though when Scott was around she was helpless and under the control of her emotions rather than her normal logical mind.

“I dunno,” she said, quite obviously wanting to push this a little further, see where she could take it, but she hadn’t had enough to drink to tip her into the bravery scales and now she was thinking about the consequences and inevitable shit storm that would follow and Scott didn’t need that. “Might just go easy on you,” she murmured, “and ask for a please.” She lifted a hand, finger raised, “but a nice one. Like you mean it.”

Scott like Holly knew exactly where this would go if they let themselves because truth be told it would be easy, probably too easy. It wasn’t like those sort of feelings didn’t just go away overnight or after so many months apart and if anything working in the same place only exacerbated them.

But she was right, it would be stupid, reckless, and not right considering she was definitely tipsy and Scott was not in the best of headspaces. Definitely not the best way to start something.

“Alright,” he conceded before he just offered a slow boyish smile followed by a distinctly southern, “please?”

Holly groaned and ignored how the southern twang to his voice caused her stomach to twist and explode in butterflies. “Fine,” she retorted, sliding across a little and readjusting the t-shirt as it had started to ride up. “I guess I can share you bed with you.”

She sat up on her elbows and watched him for a long moment before she added, more seriously, “It’s gonna be okay, Scott.”

“Too kind,” Scott retorted as he finally joined Holly under the covers and he swallowed back a sudden unexpected lump which had formed at the back of his throat when she said what she did and merely nodded.

Honestly sometimes words were overrated.

Leaning across, Holly pressed a kiss to his temple, her hand cupping the back of his head and holding him close for a moment before she just guided him down into lying on his back. She lay on her side, her hand resting on his chest, able to feel the thumping of his heart under her palm.

“Get some sleep,” she murmured, settling where she was, one hand under the pillow, the other resting on his chest. “I’ll still be here in the morning, I promise.”

Scott laid back into the bed as he was guided before giving a small nod, his hand coming up to curl around Holly’s wrist where it squeezed softly before it finally settled for catching her fingers in his.

“See you in the morning,” he murmured, exhaling a breath and closing his eyes.

Hopefully he wouldn’t dream.


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