Chapter Text
Slipping into the semi-darkness of the corridor, paying particular care to closing the door quietly so as to not draw attention to her exit, Evelyn let out a small sigh of relief. The music thrummed on in the conference room she had left and being away from it was a welcome reprieve. She had told them she was heading to the bathroom, but a bigger escape had been necessary. She knew the quiet was temporary and she would have to return to their brimming joviality and teasing shortly. For now though, she intended to savour the stolen minutes of blissful, long awaited peace. She leaned against the wall and closed her eyes.
“Hello,” came a voice from the shadows, causing Evelyn to shriek, her eyes snapping open. Cullen stepped forward, glowing phone in one hand, glass in the other, both raised as if in surrender. “Sorry I startled you.”
Heart still racing, Evelyn squinted at him through the gloom. She did not know Cullen well: only that he worked in accounts, had a reputation for being a stickler for the rules and thus was generally condemned in her circle for being a bit of a bore. “What are you doing lurking out here?” she asked, fumbling for words through her shock.
“I could ask you the same question,” he replied, sounding amused.
Pulse gradually returning to normal, Evelyn shook her head. “Sorry, you just gave me a bit of a start.” She eyed his phone. “Working?”
He dimmed the screen. “Just checking in on a few things.”
“Fear not: I won’t turn you in to the Inquisition.”
“Pardon?”
“Working at the end of year party: a crime punishable by death according to some of our colleagues. Leliana has spies everywhere looking for people not having enough fun but I won’t turn you in.”
Finally comprehending her joke Cullen chuckled. “I appreciate your discretion. And what about you? Are you having a sufficient amount of fun to see you safe from reprisal?” Evelyn let out another sigh in answer. “I see,” he said sympathetically. “Congratulations by the way, on the award.”
Employee of the Year: Evelyn Trevelyan. It had been a humiliating night entailing an awkward, unprepared speech she was put on the spot for, a string of posed photos with the company elite (her teeth gritted into a forced smile) and her friends mockingly addressing her as ‘Your Majesty’ and insisting on pulling her seat out. “Don’t you start too; I'm copping enough flack in there about it. They'll still be laughing come next year’s party.”
“My congratulations were sincere,” Cullen replied firmly. “You show a clear talent for your role and are obviously a dedicated worker. I don’t find anything amusing about merit and hard work being formally recognised.”
“Oh,” Evelyn replied, a whole new kind of embarrassment making her shift her weight from foot to foot. “Well, thanks. I guess.” Cullen finished the rest of his drink and put the glass down on the photocopier beside him. He raised his phone back to his face and the light flicked on once more. “Are you really going to go on working out here?” Evelyn asked, feeling dismissed and strangely miffed about it.
“I thought you promised not to betray my secret.” He looked at her over the top of his phone, face illuminated by the screen, eyebrows raised.
“That doesn’t mean I approve of it. Come on, at the very least if I have to suffer in there you should too.”
“Very self-sacrificing of you,” Cullen said with heavy sarcasm. He pocketed the phone but made no other move back towards the party. Neither did Evelyn. “I thought you enjoyed these things. Or at least, that everyone enjoyed these things except for me.”
“I do!” Evelyn said quickly. “Sometimes. And other times they are just very... a lot.”
He gave her a wry smile. “To say the least. Long day?”
“Yes. Long week actually…month even…”
“That is what it evidently takes to become Employee of the Year. I would expect nothing less.” He sounded completely serious and yet there was a telling twinkle in his eye, hard to spot but unmistakable once Evelyn had.
“Now you are teasing me! Watch yourself, any more of this kind of covert working behaviour and you'll be next!”
With a smug smile, Cullen pushed up his jumper sleeve to look at his watch, angling it to better read the face in the lowlight. Trust him to be still using an analogue. “Not long now until we are in the acceptable zone for excuses being made for leaving.”
“Yes – I think I left the stove on and my cat needs feeding or something.”
“Damn, those were mine.”
“You take the stove, I’ll take the cat.”
“Deal. Works for me, particularly as I don’t have a cat.”
“Me neither, but I plan on saying it assertively and walking away quickly.”
“You are a woman of sound strategy.” Cullen picked up his empty glass which Evelyn felt a kind of gratitude for. The small detail pleased her: a show of respect towards the cleaning staff that they rarely received from most in the wake of these kind of work functions. “With our tactics ready for deployment I suppose we have no choice but to enter the fray once more.” He stepped forward and in a moment of gallantry that Evelyn could not interpret as either sarcastic or sincere, offered his arm. After a moment of hesitation, she took it.
“Have courage. It will be over soon,” she told him.
He opened the door and the vivid colours and lights immediately confronted them as they entered. Glasses clinked and voices grew louder and louder as people fought to have conversations over the music.
They were barely two steps from the doorframe when Cullen halted and said something, his words lost in the racket surrounding them.
“What?” Evelyn yelled over the din.
He spoke again, and still holding his arm, Evelyn used it to pull herself closer to the level of his face to hear better. He leaned down to meet her. “I said it's louder than I remembered!” He smiled at her and seeing the irony in the situation Evelyn laughed.
The event photographer appeared before them, bursting suddenly from the crowd like a bird from undergrowth, startling them both with an obnoxiously bright flash. Squinting, Cullen and Evelyn both stepped in opposite directions in a belated attempt to get out of the frame but it was too late.
Evelyn was sick of photographs: she had been in more enough for one night. “Varric!” she yelled. “What was that for? Haven’t you got enough already?”
“You never know when these might come in handy for marketing materials,” he said casually.
Evelyn rolled her eyes. “Bribery materials more like. I thought there was a rule about no photos after people start getting sloppy.”
Varric laughed. “Are you indicating that you are sloppy Evelyn? I didn’t think you'd actually drunk half of what people were trying to encourage you to have.”
“You're right on that front. If I had I would be dead.” Evelyn looked to her left but Cullen had disappeared into the crowd. She felt a little abandoned by his abrupt departure, which was extremely odd as they were seated at different tables. He had no cause to wait for her.
For a moment they had shared an understanding and felt like allies, that was all, Evelyn rationalised and satisfied with her conclusions, returned to her seat. Varric followed, mimicking a trumpet fanfare as she approached her friends while Dorian and Sera leapt up to perform bows and curtseys that they had clearly been rehearsing in her absence. The antics of her companions were enough to make her immediately forget the brief moment shared with Cullen, and she did not think of it again for the remainder of the night.
Nor over the next week of holidays.
In fact, Evelyn only thought of it again when she was browsing the gallery of photos from the night on the company social media page, and saw the picture of the two of them together: arms linked, faces close together, him smiling, her laughing at something he had said though she couldn’t for the life of her remember what it had been.
It would be five months, until they spoke again. Actually spoke, that is, outside of infrequent, to-the-point work emails.
“Oh Maker,” Dorian sighed, leaning back in his chair, “Here comes the fun black hole.”
“What?” Evelyn snapped. She was focusing on a tricky negotiation by email and had been struggling to get the tone right. Distractions were unwelcome and she hoped that Dorian would get the hint and leave her in peace.
“That accountant. The extra dull one.” Evelyn did not need any further description to identify the individual in question. Cullen. Dorian had taken a particular dislike to him. Something about the way he always talked work at the afterhours functions, by the coffee machine and in the lift had Dorian going to particular lengths to avoid him.
Remembering their brief interchange at the end of year party, Evelyn felt a small surge of loyalty. “Don’t be mean. He can’t help…” What was she going to say? Being boring? Evelyn started again with a different tack. “I'm sure he has a great personality, when he's not talking about accounts.”
“But he is always talking about accounts. He lives, breathes and eats accounts.”
“I am sure that is not true,” Evelyn replied primly.
“What is true is that he was put on this planet – more specifically in this office – solely to torture me with his excruciating and insufferable passion for work.”
“There you go again, thinking the world revolves around you.”
“What is he doing? Just hovering there by the door? Has he not little spreadsheets to lovingly tend?”
Tearing her gaze from her monitor, Evelyn glanced over her shoulder to follow his line of sight across the office. Cullen locked eyes with her and she turned quickly back to her computer. Dorian hissed. “Now you’ve done it: you made eye contact! That's a sign of aggression in wolves.”
“Fortunate then, that neither of us are wolves. Is he coming over?”
“I am sorry to say that he is.” Evelyn wanted to let out a tiny curse but refused to give Dorian the satisfaction after her feeble attempts to defend the man. “What chit-chat shall he bless us with today? The many joys of a good pivot table?”
“Shh,” Evelyn reprimanded, worried Cullen might overhear as he crossed the office. Truth be told she had a pretty good idea of why he wanted to speak to her and guilt simmered in her gut.
A few moments later he was at her desk. “Cullen! Good to see you!” Dorian greeted with false enthusiasm. “And what timing – Evelyn here was just saying that she would love someone to go into more detail about the figures on page seventy-eight of last year’s annual report.” Evelyn was chewing on the end of her pen anxiously.
“Hello Dorian,” Cullen replied in a deadpan way that indicated he knew he was the subject of an ongoing joke. “Evelyn,” he greeted, with a shade more civility. She looked up at him, and disliking the feeling of being loomed over, rolled her chair back a couple of paces to even out their eyelevel marginally. His hands were clasped. She found his guarded, impassive expression nearly impossible to read.
If he had come to see her in person she must be in really serious trouble. What if he was planning to report her to management?
Deciding to try and get the upper hand she cast her pen aside and launched into an apology. “I can’t apologise enough Cullen, I promised that it wouldn’t happen again but…” she began earnestly. “I know I have been sloppy with record keeping! I just keep leaving it and putting it off and by the time I get back to it a few minor details may have slipped my mind once or twice…but I am 99.9% confident that I have been underestimating the number of units so I figured it would be a nice surprise when –”
“You’ve been fabricating the figures you send to me?” he asked flatly, but with a genuine look of surprise on his face.
“Not making them all up exactly, no! Compiling incomplete information and making an educated guess in order to extrapolate…Wait, you aren’t here about that?”
“No.”
“Oh,” Evelyn said quietly, feeling heat rising up her neck. She loosened her scarf. Talk about self-sabotage. Dorian and his flawless bookkeeping would never let her live this down.
“No, I wanted to speak to you about something else.”
“Okay,” Evelyn replied still feeling humiliated.
“In private.” Cullen added curtly. Dorian sniggered, without much of an attempt to conceal it and Evelyn shot him a glare before standing.
“Okay,” she said again, and smiled weakly at Cullen, a gesture that he did not return before turning and walking towards the emergency exit. As she followed him, completely perplexed, she felt her phone buzz in her pocket and fished it out.
A new message from Dorian: ‘Asking you out to an accounting convention or challenging you to a duel I wonder? I couldn’t tell.’
In reply, Evelyn looked back at him and gestured with an exaggerated shrug. Dorian rose and scampered off, probably to find someone to tell in time for them to witness her and Cullen emerging from a stairwell as no doubt they wouldn’t believe him otherwise.
Cullen held the door for her and followed her out. The heavy door swung shut and the quiet pressed on them after the bustle and chatter of the large office, like diving underwater. Cullen pondered for a moment, then led her down a flight of stairs to another landing. For extra privacy, Evelyn assumed. Curiosity was giving way to nerves. What exactly did he want from her? Despite Dorian’s insinuations she felt it extremely unlikely that this was as simple as a request to grab a drink together.
“So, what can I do for you?” she asked, breaking the silence. Better to get it over with, she figured.
“Start tracking your sales properly,” Cullen answered then squeezed his eyes closed and pushed his glasses on top of his head so that he could pinch the bridge of his nose. “Sorry, I didn’t bring you here to reprimand you.”
“Goodness knows I deserve it,” Evelyn laughed. Cullen did not join her but gave her a long, serious (even more serious than usual which was saying something) look and folded his arms. Evelyn’s laughter died in her throat. “You had better just be out with it: I'm starting to think this is really bad news.”
“No, I didn't mean to alarm you. It is not bad news. Well, it isn't for you.” Evelyn assumed he was about to continue and waited, but when he did not speak there was an excruciatingly long pause.
“Are you alright?” She reached out to touch his arm. It was gesture that was habit to her when she was concerned about a friend, but she caught herself before her fingertips reached his sleeve, wondering if it was too overfamiliar. Instead she turned the movement into an awkward tousle of her hair. She hoped he hadn’t noticed. A slight frown indicated that he had. Evelyn was suddenly relieved at his earlier insistence for privacy: if Dorian and the others could see this exchange she would never hear the end of it.
“I'm fine, only that I find myself in a difficult position.” The frown intensified.
It genuinely worried her to see someone usually so composed so troubled. What had he been doing to get into ‘a difficult position’? Forging numbers? Stealing from the accounts? It seemed unlikely: by all reports and as evident by a rapid series of promotions he was as honest as he was meticulous. It was impossible to question his integrity. When he failed to elaborate once again she prompted gently, “Anything in particular?” And more importantly, what on earth did he think she could do to help?
“My sister... No, the last work function.”
“I may yet require a few additional details to piece together what the issue is Cullen.”
“We spoke at the end of year work drinks.”
“I recall.” Baffled. Evelyn was completely baffled.
“A photo was taken. My sister saw it.”
“I see,” Evelyn answered though she did not see. At all.
“I did not seek to mislead her. I said nothing on the matter. I only spoke of you briefly, because she asked. I would not set out to deceive intentionally, especially in a way that involved you,” he said emphatically, but with something almost pleading in his tone.
“I don’t doubt it,” Evelyn assured him.
“However my sister jumped to certain conclusions. About us. Together.”
“Oh.” Evelyn chuckled awkwardly. “Well, that should be easy to clear up. Right?”
Cullen put a hand to his face. “The opportunity arose for me to clarify a long time ago and I did not take it,” he said, voice slightly muffled.
“But why? I don’t understand.”
“Mia. She lives out of town and she worries about me. It has been a long time since I last…She has always been the social butterfly and I have been more…”
‘Reclusive and surly’, Evelyn thought. “Introverted and private?” she said instead. It was painful, watching Cullen all but writhe with humiliation, not least because she was fighting back laughter. It was her default reaction to feeling self-conscious but she sensed she might actually kill the man in front of her stone dead if she laughed in his face at this moment. Evelyn bit the inside of her lip in an effort to control herself.
“I thought nothing would come of it. She said she was writing you an email of introduction and I feared she already had and what you must be thinking.”
“I haven’t received anything,” Evelyn said. No wonder he had rushed to speak with her – imagine the confusion if she had heard from his sister out of the blue. It would have been…Evelyn pondered. Well, actually it would have only been slightly more confusing than the current situation.
“She - Mia will be visiting me over the next week. This Friday we are having dinner. I had meant to tell her that we parted ways by now…before it came to this. But I just haven’t been able to. She has been so looking forward…to meeting you,” Cullen explained, eeking out the final few words as if they caused him physical pain.
“‘Parted ways’,” Evelyn echoed, voice shrill. “That is certainly a nice way of putting it. I didn’t even know we had been dating all this time and now you're breaking up with me?”
Cullen looked stricken. “No! I did not intend to –”
“Relax, I'm teasing you,” Evelyn clarified. He looked relieved (barely) but Evelyn was distracted. Even as she spoke her mind was working frantically. Opportunity beckoned, floodlit and glittering. Her record keeping often needed help. A lot of help. Cullen was an accountant. And for the first time ever she (possibly anyone) had him at a disadvantage. A possible ally. A tame accountant. A ‘get out of jail free’ card for next time she was in strife. All she had to do was make sure he owed her. Real big. She hesitated, then went for it. “You will have to get used to my sense of humour, if we are to be a couple for an evening.”
Cullen froze. Evelyn was pleased to finally feel like she had control of the conversation. “I was in no way suggesting such a course of action. I merely wanted to explain and apologise for my presumption. I would never ask such a thing.”
Evelyn cocked her head to one side, then the other, lips pursed in thoughtfulness as she surveyed him. Cullen looked as if he was considering hurling himself down the stairwell to escape her scrutiny. “No, you wouldn’t ask, would you? But I am offering, so think about it, all the same.”
After a pause, he let out a distrustful, “But why?”
“Well don’t start questioning it!” Evelyn laughed. “Friends get each other off the hook all the time,” she explained with a flippant wave of her hand. She had been to more Pavus family events on Dorian’s arm than she'd had actual dates with some of her past boyfriends. Frankly he usually turned out to be better company too. Not to mention the number of times Blackwall had intervened when she was struggling with an overfriendly stranger at a bar by playing the just arrived, overprotective and frankly enormous boyfriend.
“I didn't realise this was such a common scenario,” Cullen said, slightly bewildered.
“Sooo common,” Evelyn said dismissively, determined to put him at ease. “It's simple, okay? We go and have a nice dinner, I fawn over you - not too much, but a little,” Evelyn explained when Cullen looked moderately terrified at the prospect of being fawned over. “Then after a few weeks, you pass on the news of our break up to your sister making sure you sound pretty sad about it all and she respectfully gets off your back for a few months at least while you mourn. Easy.”
Cullen looked unconvinced, verging on downright sceptical. “Truly though, why so keen to be of assistance?”
“Suspicious, aren’t you? I figure I probably owe you a few favours, my accounts what they are. Have been.” And what they likely would be knowing her track record. She could probably get away with submitting blank sheets at the end of each week for the next year and he wouldn’t be able to object after she did this for him. Besides: how could she resist an accountant in distress? She continued, “Plus, I assume you are paying for my dinner. Are we going somewhere nice? Is there a wine list I can review in advance? I am picky about pairings,” Evelyn teased, hands on hips, grin tugging at the corner of her lips. She had him, she nearly had him. Hook, line and….
For the first time, he managed a small smile and thrusting his hands into his pockets he assumed a more relaxed posture. “Thank you. I know this is utterly ridiculous.”
Sinker. He would be in her debt and overflowing with gratitude before he even realised what a shambolic state her accounts could get into and by then his sense of duty and ridiculous politeness would mean he couldn’t possibly refuse helping her. And all she had to do was go out for one dinner. Evelyn could have fist pumped but it would have given the game away.
Instead she said with a shrug, “We do strange things to make our families happy.”
“I am grateful. However, if this could be kept quiet amongst our colleagues -”
“Of course," she answered quickly with a long-repressed giggle finally spilling out. “I am not particularly keen to get this rumour off the ground trust me!” she laughed, rapidly pointing between the two of them a few times. Cullen narrowed his eyes slightly and Evelyn baulked. “Not that there would be anything wrong with – You are very – I would be – You know I think we should get back to work.”
“I agree.” His office was a few floors below hers and he began to make his way down the stairs.
“Wait,” she called after him. “We should probably meet up, briefly at least, to go over some things.”
“Things?”
“You know, to make this even moderately convincing I should probably know more about you than your name, job title and what colour tie you happen to be wearing today.”
“Of course.” He shook his head looking slightly mollified. “You really have done this before.”
“I'm a bit of an expert, what can I say? Trust me, this will work out just fine. I’ll be in touch.”
“Hmm,” he replied uncertainly before continuing down the stairs.
“Wait!” Evelyn cried. He stopped again, gripping the bannister, and turning to look over his shoulder, frowning slightly.
“Yes?” he asked carefully. Perhaps he thought she had changed her mind.
“If you are uncomfortable about this, please don’t be. I am happy to be of help. Really.”
“I appreciate it,” he replied with a nod, then a smile so warm that all of a sudden it was Evelyn who was left feeling embarrassed.
“Okay! See you later alligator!” she replied in a high-pitched voice that certainly could not be her own and leaving abruptly, rushed back towards the emergency exit and her office taking the steps two at a time.
She paused at the door just long enough to compose herself before stepping through it? “’See you later alligator?’ Maker have mercy, just strike me down now,” she muttered to herself, but the Maker did not oblige her request.
How long had she been ignoring how handsome he was? It was like something had just clicked and she had seen him for the first time. Had she never witnessed him genuinely smile before today? Possibly not. And maybe she had never looked at him as a real person either. Perhaps he had just been a concept: 'an accountant' and she had subconsciously bought into Dorian's stupid robot theory about him. She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. What was wrong with her: he had shown one moment of true human emotion and the veil had been lifted?
Evelyn tried to rationalise: if she was going to get that flustered every time he smiled at her it would do wonders for their performance on Friday night and that could only be a good thing.
Beyond that she decided to endeavour not to think of it.
Re-entering the office, Evelyn expected a crowd at her desk but Dorian had only had the time (or mercy) to drag over one person.
“Evelyn, as lovely as it always is to see you, your arrival at your own desk hardly constitutes ‘the Sky Holidngs intrigue of the century’ as I was promised,” Josephine greeted her. “Though you do look a little flushed.”
“Is that what he told you? Sorry to disappoint but there is nothing to see here,” Evelyn told her, glaring at Dorian before resuming her seat.
“But what did he want? Did he gift you a bouquet of calculators? Try to seduce you with an offer of a six-month top-tier subscription to Business Insider? Did he compare your beauty to a finance report, warm and unblemished, fresh off the printer?”
“Nothing of the sort. He wanted to talk about work without an audience. One audience member in particular.” Evelyn gave Dorian a pointed look. “How are things in legal Josie, anything juicy at the moment?” Evelyn asked, trying to change the subject.
“Tedious yes, juicy no. People insist on dragging out negotiations when they should know they are already beaten.”
“Excuse me, more to the point, are you suggesting that Cullen does not like me? Me?” Dorian said with outrage.
“Dorian, you are a very smart man: is that so difficult to conceptualise? You don’t like him so why shouldn’t he not like you in return?” Evelyn replied.
“How dare he? That is very different! I am not a fastidious, onerous, stick-in-the-mud like he is. There is nothing to dislike about me!”
“I am going to leave you two to your squabbling,” Josephine said, backing away with amusement twinkling in her eyes. “See you later. Let me know if you get sued.”
Dorian immediately rounded on Evelyn. “Secrets? Between us?”
“It was nothing,” Evelyn said trying to sound firm and convincing. She overplayed it and Dorian scoffed in disbelief.
“All of a sudden you don’t trust me to be discrete? Me?” Dorian asked with a haughtiness that very nearly concealed the genuine hurt beneath it.
Evelyn felt a pang of guilt. Dorian had been quick to trust her after they met, and though she had never had a properly interesting secret, she had not hesitated to divulge him of any details of her life in the past. She could understand his resentment at her sudden stonewalling. “It was nothing. Boring accountant talk like you said. Numbers and stuff. You would be happier not hearing it trust me.”
“Cullen loves numbers so I find it extremely unlikely he would have looked that agitated on approach if all he wanted to do was talk about them. But fine, you international woman of mystery. I will leave the matter be.”
“Thank you.”
“For now.” Evelyn rolled her eyes as Dorian likely guessed though he could not see her face. “End of week celebratory drinkies Friday after work? Josephine already agreed.”
“I can’t on Friday.” Dorian guffawed loudly. “Whatever conclusion you have jumped to it is wrong,” Evelyn added quickly.
“What can I do except jump to conclusions if you refuse to enlighten me with the truth?” There was a long pause where Dorian waited for Evelyn to crack and she stubbornly ignored him. Instead, she began to type an email, hammering her keyboard with unnecessary force. “Such loyalty to him all of a sudden! What has he got on you? Nudes?” Dorian whispered in delighted speculation.
Evelyn sent her email with a violent click of the mouse. It pinged in Dorian’s inbox a second later.
“Shut up I am trying to work.”
A loud “Fine!” and a huff came from opposite her that made several people in the office turn around. Evelyn ignored them and Dorian, and when everyone had settled back to work, she quickly navigated her way back to the photos from the end of year party. To one photo in particular.
Biting her lip, she squinted at it for a while. Their faces were close, Cullen’s eyes on hers with the tiniest of smiles playing on his lips while she laughed unrestrained, arm wrapped tightly around his.
Self-conscious, and concerned that someone might walk by her desk and see her studying the image, she quickly closed it.
How in Thedas had his sister got that impression?
No, Evelyn didn’t think they looked like a couple at all.