Disclaimer: The movie "Se7en" does not belong to me, but to its rightful owners.
Authors Note: This is just an idea that won't leave my head – that's why I have to write it down!
Basically a short SomersetTracy fic. Takes place after their meeting at the café.
May contain spoilers, so don't read if you're planning to watch the movie.
Can you come over? --
Four little words. Four, undeniable, little words, that is.
It wasn't fair of her, he kept telling himself, because he would never be able to say no. Still he didn't want to blame her. She was so likeable, so pleasant.
Like the day he had met her for the first time at her and Mills' home. She had just looked at him in that enchanting, almost hypnotising way. Asked him why he wasn't married. About the city. Stuff that he normally wouldn't give much more thought. But she did something unexplainable to him.
It became even worse when she had called him. Deep in his body, when he heard her soothing voice, he felt waves – waves of an electric, but thrilling, kind. Like being unarmed while chasing a criminal.
He had stopped himself from thinking sinful thoughts. When she told him that David didn't know she was calling, he was almost hanging up on her. But of course he didn't.
And now, she had just called him again. In the middle of the night. With a very persuading voice. It almost sounded as if she'd been crying. So what choice did he have?
He got out of bed, put on some clothes – not really giving it any thought – grabbed his hat from the hat rack and threw his coat around his shoulders. Then he ventured out into the dark, rainy night.
He heard distant footsteps before the door was half opened. Blue, tired eyes pierced through him.
He smiled faintly.
"Tracy," he stated.
She opened the door and made a gesture for him to enter.
"I'm glad you're here," she told him as he removed his rain-soaked hat. "I didn't think you'd come."
He looked to the floor, smiling vaguely.
"You didn't give me a choice." He paused- "Where's David?" he asked, lowering his voice.
Tracy's eyes wandered to the direction of the bedroom. "Fast asleep."
"Are you sure about that?" he almost chuckled, "he seems to be very observant."
Tracy led him into the livingroom. "I'll have a problem if he is – please, sit down."
He did as he was offered. The lights in the room were dimmed. A few candlelights were lit on a shelf. A heavy, warm atmosphere surrounded them.
"You wanted to talk?" he said, trying to start the conversation.
"Yeah," she sat down beside him. "I'm really sorry to call you like that. I really didn't mean to be that self-centered." She once again sounded like she was about to cry.
He made a gesture with his hand. "Don't worry about it. But tell me what's wrong."
She didn't answer right away. Instead, she became nervous and couldn't find a place to put her hands.
"Is it.. something with the baby?"
She quickly looked at him. "No, no. It's nothing like that."
He was starting to feel impatient. Just as he was starting to speak again, she broke the silence first.
"I feel watched."
He shifted his body to another position. "Watched?" She had caught his attention. Being rational, he continued, "maybe it's the pregnancy?" Well knowing that it probably wasn't.
"No, it's not the pregnancy. I'm serious about this."
He speculated for a while, pondering, thinking.
"When do you feel watched?" he tried.
"More and more often. When I'm at home, in town, alone or with David."
"Don't you think you should wait and see? Maybe it's your nerves. Maybe you're just worried about David because of the case he's working on."
She shook her head in disbelieve.
"David's growing distant for each day. I barely see him. I can't even say 'I love you' to him anymore."
He looked at her in surprise, being careful not to show it. Could he have caused this? Meeting Tracy wasn't part of his plan.
"Maybe talking to him would help."
"I can't." She looked at him. Hypnotising, hypnotising. He couldn't allow himself this foolishness.
Then, in the next few seconds, things played out very fast.
She kissed him.
A chaste, almost non-existing kiss. But he felt it. Deep down in his body.
Closing his eyes as they parted, he stared into the darkness, not knowing what to do.
"I'm sorry." She rose from the sofa. He did the same; shook his head.
"I should be going," he said, heading for the door, "you shouldn't worry too much. Go to bed. You need rest." He put on his hat, still wet, and grabbed the doorhandle. A hand on his shoulder.
"Where will you be?"
He forced a smile to his lips. Opening the door, feeling the distinct smell of rain, he touched her cheek for what seemed a split second.
"I'll be around."
He stepped out into the night, not looking back.