Work Text:
“What?! No. No. NO!” Diana banged on her keyboard in frustration as the report she’d worked literally all day on just hung there.
“What happened?” Clinton asked, looking over at her with concern.
“Freaking Windows Vista crashed again!” she exclaimed and dropped her head to her desk with a sharp rap. It was late to still be at the office – after 8:00 – but the two of them were both hard at work clearing the decks of paperwork in preparation for taking off for the Thanksgiving holiday. “I lost the Exient Financial report,” she said plaintively, her voice muffled.
“Didn’t you hit ‘save’?”
She looked at him like she might kill him.
“Want me to call IT?”
“No. Yes. No. Damn it, I just want this to be done! Grr! I’ve got so much still to do, and Christie’s already left for Philadelphia, and if I don’t file this report by the time I leave, Peter’s going to put me in the van for the next six months. And now I’m whining.”
Clinton laughed, a chuckle that rumbled deep inside his chest, got up and pushed her laptop closed. “Screw it,” he said. “Let’s get out of here, get a beer and put this long ass day in our rearview mirrors. What do you say?”
He held out a hand and she accepted it gratefully, rising and grabbing her coat. “Let’s blow this popsicle stand,” she said with a grin.
----
“OK, this is going down way too easily,” Diana commented, setting her now-empty beer bottle on the bar.
“You’re not kidding,” Clinton agreed, holding up two fingers to the bartender and ordering another round. “So, Christie’s already at her folks’?”
“Yeah, she left yesterday. She went down early to help her sister shop for a wedding dress.” She pulled a face.
“Not into the whole wedding dress thing?”
“If I get married, it’ll be a kegger on a beach somewhere.”
“I’m sure your mom will love that,” Clinton snarked.
“My dad’s checkbook sure will!” She clinked her beer bottle against his and took another pull. “So what are you doing for the holiday, Clinton?”
“I’m gonna stay in town, get a head start on holiday shopping, maybe. I’ll see everyone on Christmas, I figure. I don’t get why people are always so stressed out about Thanksgiving.”
She gave him a long and appraising look. “Uh-huh.” She took another swig of beer.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“What?” he insisted.
“Got a reason to stay in town?”
He hesitated a beat too long. “No.”
She put her hand on his wrist. “Tread carefully, my friend,” she said.
“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”
“Don’t you?” When he didn’t answer, she continued. “He’s trouble, Clinton.” He cut his eyes away from hers, but her hand gripped tighter, pulling his focus back to her.
“We have fun together,” he said, pulling his hand away and playing with the label on his beer bottle with his thumbnail, pushing little channels into it, watching how the paper bunched.
“You don’t shit where you eat,” she said, and it came out more harshly than she’d meant it to, but she didn’t regret saying it.
“It’s not like that-“
“It’s exactly like that. Do you know how much trouble you will be in if this gets found out? He’s our CI, and a convicted felon on work release. There’s no other way for this to end except badly.”
“But-“ he stopped himself, shook his head.
“But what?”
“Nothing.”
“Say it.”
“Who says it has to end?”
Diana stared at him, her mouth hanging open. “Don’t tell me you’re in love with him?”
“No….. Maybe….. I don’t know! But I wouldn’t mind figuring it out for myself.”
She cocked her head to the side, looking him in the eyes, and he returned her gaze, unblinking. “It’s more than just a fling?”
“I think it could be.”
“Does he?”
“We haven’t talked about it.” He sighed.
“Then you need to talk about it. I’ve seen your kind before, Clint – you mate for life. There is no ‘having fun together’ for you, admit it.”
He couldn’t look at her.
“I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“I won’t,” he insisted. “My eyes are open for this. They. Are. Open.”
She stared at him for nearly a minute, gauging his sincerity. “OK.”
“OK? What’s that mean?”
“It means I’m behind you on this. I think it’s a huge mistake and could be a disaster for your career, but if you need a friend, or someone to run interference with the boss, I’m your guy. Uh, gal.”
“You’d really do that?”
She nodded. “Despite my better judgment, yes.”
“Thanks, Di. You’re a good pal.”
“Yeah, whatever. How ‘bout some shots? I think I need something stronger to go with this moral quandary.”
“Whatever you like. I’m buyin’”
“You bet your ass you’re buying,” she said and caught the bartender’s eye.
----
Thank you for your time.