Kylie Malikov (sinkorswim) wrote in thedoorway, @ 2013-05-01 22:37:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log, lincoln lee (yellowverse), olivia dunham (redverse) |
Who: Lincoln Lee & Olivia Dunham
When: Backdated to Monday, April 29, 2013
Where: Somewhere in the SHIELD building
What: Liv finds out she’s been transferred to another cell without her permission or even any notice from Lincoln and drags him into a supply closet to yell at him.
Rating: PG-13 at most.
Olivia was never good at letting things go or pushing them aside until there was a better time to talk about it. She was confrontational, and for the most part it worked to her advantage. But occasionally it also meant when she was at work, she tended to go a little overboard. And certain things just had a way of setting her off without so much of a spark. Like being notified on Monday morning about being moved to a different SHIELD cell at the request of her handler. The handler that happened to be the one person from her world, her partner and roommate. Who, for all Liv knew, she was still on fair terms with. Yeah, there had been that blip in Salem, that they had thus far managed to avoid talking about. But it was the only answer she had, to figure that even if she had done well enough at keeping things less than awkward, Lincoln clearly didn’t feel the same. Liv, to her credit, had been shell-shocked enough that she didn’t cuss out the higher level agent that informed her, but she did immediately go on the hunt for Lincoln to figure out what the hell was up. In hindsight, grabbing his arm and yanking him into the nearest maintenance closet was probably not the nicest way she’d ever gone about things, but anger and annoyance was currently winning the battle of rational thinking. She shoved the transfer paper into his chest before her eyes even adjusted to the dim lighting, “What the hell is this, Lee?” They couldn’t have been looking at this situation from more opposite extremes if they tried. Lincoln had been waffling back and forth between nervous energy and hopeful excitement ever since he had asked for her reassignment, but he’d been waiting on confirmation. He’d figured he’d find out soon enough when it would be effective and have time to talk to her. Unfortunately for him, SHIELD was apparently more prompt and direct than the FBI. Surprise turned into a frown as Lincoln straightened from the off-kilter position he’d been thrown into by her surprise attack. He grabbed the paper to skim his eyes over it. “I don’t...” Realizing what he was reading, Lincoln exhaled quietly and lifted a cautious gaze to her face. “I thought I would be the one to tell you. I wasn’t even a hundred percent sure it was approved yet.” It wasn’t the greatest start, but the clear anger in her tone made him unsure how big of a mistake he’d just made. “Thought you would be the one to tell me that you requested my cell transfer.” For all of her anger, Liv’s low voice was calm and serious. A little too calm for her, which was a deadly sign that she was more hurt by the decision than she’d let herself show. She’d been hoping that he would confirm it was a mistake, that someone filed the paperwork wrong, that Lincoln - of all people - wouldn’t have requested her move. With his confirmation, her eyes slid up in a red hot glare, preferring flared up anger over the other alternative. “Right. Was the trip to Salem too much for you? Should I have just kept my mouth shut? Not taken a chance? You couldn’t put your big boy pants on and tell me to my face that you didn’t want to be around me?” His eyebrows creeped further and further upwards as she spoke, fully clearing the top rim of his glasses. Lincoln’s instinctual fear had been that she knew exactly why he’d asked for the transfer and was pissed off that he’d assumed he even had a chance at something more serious than just sex. But her words left him mentally flailing between relief and indignation. “My big boy pants?” he unconsciously snapped. There was some irony to that insult considering it was his refusal to sneak around like a teenager that had prompted the request in the first place. “Do you really think if I didn’t want to be around that you that I would start by requesting your transfer? We live together.” Lincoln immediately regretted responding with mild outrage, but moved to push his glasses up his nose instead of apologizing. Better yet, explaining. He was just too flustered to react properly. He’d planned exactly how he would tell her and this was definitely not it. “You heard me. Good to see you’ve got a little fire in you, finally.” Liv taunted in return, not backing down despite the fact that he just confirmed it wasn’t her she was trying to get away from. Even with that knowledge, it wasn’t relief she was feeling but a mixture of confusion and separation anxiety. Which only managed to push her further into the angry category, half of which was directed at her own persons for getting attached in the first place. Liv jabbed a finger forward and into his chest, not strong enough to hurt him but enough pressure that he’d feel it. “How the hell do I know I’m not going to go back to the tower today and find out that I’ve got a new roommate?” That was more than a little unfair on her end, but her angry ranting was already deflating after her own realization that she was overreacting. “I kinda figured you deciding to stay in our world meant something, Linc.” The poke in his chest earned a somewhat bemused quirk of his mouth, because the more she talked, the more Lincoln’s common sense caught up with him. She was hurt. Of all the reactions he’d considered, that one had occurred to him. Liv always seemed so comfortable with herself, so quick to rebound. At least on the outside. Tilting his head and giving her a thoughtful look, he tempered his voice to respond. “It did. It does. I didn’t...” Lincoln sighed, adjusting his glasses. “I’m not moving out. And I didn’t request a transfer because I don’t want to be around you.” Shoving away any remaining tendrils of uncertainty in his chest, Lincoln reached to frame her jaw with both hands and looked her squarely in the eyes. “The exact opposite, actually. I was sort of hoping I could take you to dinner. Or...you know, something less trite,” he added with an self-deprecating smirk. Most of the hot air went out of Olivia with that statement, and her shoulders slumped slightly until she pulled them back up to keep glaring at him without any of the heat her gaze contained just seconds before. Liv shook her head, not at him in particular but at the situation. Back home it wasn’t a problem, working for an organization when you were top dog and the best trained at what you did. They didn’t care if their agents screwed around as long as it didn’t affect the job. Here.. The best she could tell was that everyone was expendable and rules were rules. Which Liv could appreciate to a certain degree. Even if she didn’t want to admit it or lose working with someone she was already confident with. “You had me transferred so you could ask me out to dinner? What the hell, Lincoln? We live together. You really think they give a shit about something as simple or trite as getting dinner?” He grimaced, dropping his hands to his sides as his shoulders slumped. Transferring her had seemed like the right move at the time. It was a move after all, and he’d been lacking in that department. And it was what he wanted, which, well, that was probably his biggest mistake. Talking to her beforehand would have avoided this whole situation. “You know me well enough to know I’m not one for breaking the rules if I can avoid it,” Lincoln quietly pointed out. “I thought...actually, it doesn’t matter what I thought. If you’d rather work with me than date me, then I completely understand. I can ask to have the transfer rescinded. I can’t guarantee they’ll agree...” he frowned, stepping back and straightening his shoulders in a subconscious attempt to square aware his disappointment in how this had played out. “...but I will do my best. And I’m sorry. I should have asked what you wanted instead of making the choice for you.” How had this conversation turned around so quickly? Just a few minutes before, Olivia would’ve been taking that apology and running with it, still angry and hurt with the move. But now she found herself feeling a little bad that he was backtracking, literally and figuratively. “Hey, you think I would’ve propositioned you if that was the case? Jeez, Linc. I-” Olivia’s hand reached out to snag his suit sleeve, voice a lot softer now that the anger had worn off. “Oh, fuck it.” Never really graced with the ability to be particularly wordy, Olivia gave up trying and just charged ahead, mashing her lips against his while both of her hands reached up to cradle his face in a slightly more delicate manner. Lincoln had opened his mouth to argue that one wasn’t necessarily indicative of the other, which likely would not have helped his case, but thankfully, she took control of the situation before he could say something stupid and defensive. The truth was, he’d rather have stayed her handler and date her at the same time, but once the latter had seemed an actual possibility, he’d leapt on it as the greater of the two without much hesitation. Which was about how he handled the current situation. His arms quickly reached around her, one grasping at the fabric of her clothes, the other burrowing upwards into her hair. It was hard to feel defensive when he felt defenseless, so his mind took a much needed break and merely relished the feel of her. Once a few brain cells fired back up again, it was only enough to pull away and mumble a breathy joke. “If I’d known pissing you off would end up here, I’d have put more effort into making you angry.” Liv chuckled against his lips and bumped her nose against his on purpose before pulling away slightly to smooth over the lapels on his suit. While it was more than a little tempting for her to lean in again, she cleared her throat and took a half-step back. “Just remember that I’ve got a gun strapped to my hip right now.” Not that he, or anyone, could miss it since the uniform left nothing to the imagination. “Next time, try asking first, kay?” Not that she didn’t appreciate a guy that was assertive and went for what he wanted - oh, she did - but news like that wasn’t something she wanted delivered by a SHIELD lackey. “And we better get back to work, unless you have something you actually wanted to ask me?” “You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Lincoln smirked, tugging her closer by grabbing the holster in question and kissing lightly along her jaw until her next comment brought him back to his starting position with a small sigh. “The next time I think I know what I’m doing, I’ll double-check with you first.” It was mostly a joke, but there was at least 40% truth to it. As much as he was glad things had spiraled in the right direction by the end of this conversation, the majority of it had made his palms sweat and his chest ache. “Oh but--” Lincoln pushed his glasses up and glanced towards the closed door. “Right. Yes. Back to work. And yes...to the question part, as well. I...would you like to go out...somewhere, with me, this weekend?” he babbled, his face curling into an embarrassed half-smile, half-grimace. “I promise I’ll think of something that won’t bore you to tears before the weekend, I just need time.” Liv returned his joke with a full grin and a teasing forward step like she was going to kiss him again, until she stepped away again at the last moment, pushing herself up against the door and out of his grip while she stared (and grinned) him down. “You better, because I might not be so forgiving next time.” She would. Liv could hold a grudge with the best of them but she wasn’t very good at holding it against him. Either him. But especially the one that made the butterflies in her stomach flutter like she was a schoolgirl all over again. His flustered babbles only made her grin grow, not feeling the least bit guilty that she could bring out that level of embarrassment in him. “You know, I don’t think I can do this weekend. Short notice and all, and I have to wash my hair...” She couldn’t resist torturing him a least a little. Or a lot, given how much she tended to torture him. A small laugh tumbled from his mouth before he cleared his throat and gave her raised eyebrow look from under the rim of his glasses. “Well. I was thinking more along the lines of getting out of the apartment, but if you need any help washing your hair, it’s not the worst date idea I’ve ever heard,” he mused, narrowing his eyes in amused, mock-judgment at her teasing. Liv’s grin turned into a groan and she reached out to tweak his chest with two of her fingers. “You had your chance, Agent Lee.” She pulled her hand back quickly, before she was tempted to stay in the maintenance closet longer. A lot longer. Wasn’t he supposed to be the responsible one? Either way, Liv did actually have work on the brain, and her hand closed around the doorknob and flipped her hair over a shoulder. “If you play your cards right, you can help me shower after the date.” |