Disclaimer: 24 is the property of FOX et al. No infringement is intended and no profit is being made.

Spoilers: Season five.
Author's Note: Bill/Karen, as prompted by insidethestars. :) Major kudos to her for getting to me write after a year!

Summary: He thinks he knows her moods by now.

Drive
by: chopsticks
g

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They haven't been dating too long, but he feels like he's become a good judge of her moods.

This is helped, of course, when she walks through the door, letting it slam behind her. Rebuilding CTU while still keeping Homeland in control has been nothing if not frustrating as hell, and he knows some days the red tape gets to her. He doesn't push her to talk it out; that's not a privilege their jobs afford them. Instead, he walks up to her and takes her hand, leading her to the kitchen.

He thinks he can feel some of the tension melt out of her just by his touch. Or maybe his ego is a little larger than normal today, but either way her demeanor changes slightly, the irritation and anger reducing to a manageable level.

"Thanks for the key, again," she says, gesturing mindlessly in the general direction they came from.

He smiles but says nothing; they aren't ones for the endless game of reciprocating endearments and compliments. At this point in their lives, they've learned not to waste time.

"Wine?" he asks, reaching for the bottle he started chilling when he got home three hours earlier.

"Please," she replies, taking a seat on the barstool and leaning on the counter. She runs a hand through her hair; he loves the way it looks in the light, the strands shining as they flow seamlessly through her fingers, and he tells her so. She smiles and accepts the glass, the red a startling contrast to her pale fingers.

She takes a sip, and he swears more of the tension that was eating away at her ebbs away.

A quiet pause hovers as they both enjoy the wine, him leaning against the counter across from her and her eyes distant and contemplative. He loves to watch her, to map out the way her mind works behind those discerning eyes. He flatters himself into thinking he's got her a little bit figured out, and he's not surprised when, a few minutes later, she opens her mouth to voice a suggestion.

"Let's go for a drive."

He smiles and concurs, setting their glasses down and grabbing his keys on the way out the door. Early on (before breakfast, even), they both discovered they have an affinity for long drives, rolling down the windows and cranking the music and letting their minds work everything out.

It's with some surprise, later on with the wind tossing his hair back and the music drowning out the world, that he feels her hand on his arm as she turns down the radio.

"Thank you," she says, looking him straight in the eye for the moments he dares to remove his eyes from the road.

"You're welcome," he replies, eyes on the road and a smile slipping onto his face. "So, how was your day?" He glances at her with the hint of a teasing smile on his face.

She grins, the tension gone from her frame.

"Shut up and drive." She flips the radio back up, leans back, and lets the wind roll over her, a smirk gracing her lips.

Yeah, he thinks he knows her moods pretty well by now, and lets a smug grin creep onto his face.

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the end.