Author's Note: Kavi's putting up our new challenge prompts later this week and this goes with that batch. But I had it done so I felt like putting it up.

Just a little drabble. Perhaps it's a bit longer than a drabble, it's about 1100 words, but it feels kind of drabbly :)

I sort of see this as falling into canon. The reason for the clear bond that now exists between them that wasn't there before. It starts off angsty and sad but if you go with the title of the story then you'll see things get better. And this is H/P but I don't use any of the team's names. It's just the style of how it came to me.


Prompt Set #10

Show: The Agency

Title Challenge: An Isolated Incident


Our Story

The first time it happened was in the middle of a case. We had been searching for three days for a missing four year old girl. Her name was Emma. In her pictures she had dimples and blonde curls and bright green eyes.

He found her bloody, broken body under a filthy blanket in an alleyway.

She was still warm.

And he was convinced that if we could just get her to the hospital that they could save her. He was screaming at us to help him. He couldn't see what we could see, and he wouldn't listen to us.

Finally his old friend walked over and lifted Emma's matted curls and showed him the grey matter.

Nobody could save her. She was gone.

He stared at her for a moment. Then he gently placed her body back on the ground, brushed those curls of cornflower and crimson away from her face . . . and walked away.

That night I went to his room to see if he was all right. At first he wouldn't talk to me. But then I took his hand and got him to sit down on the bed.

We sat in silence for almost a half an hour.

And then he started to explain to me what had happened, how he felt, why he needed to save her. And then he began to cry. I ran my fingers along his jaw as I kissed along the tracks of his tears.

His grief was my grief.

When I pulled back he was staring at me. I assumed he was upset at what I'd done, and feeling embarrassed, I stood up to leave. But he reached for me, taking my fingers into his muscular grasp.

We stared at each other for a moment before he tugged gently on my hand and I allowed him to pull me back down to the bed. Then he leaned forward, pressed his lips to mine . . . and he kissed me.

It was a kiss full of sadness and grief. I could taste the saltiness of his tears.

He pulled back, his eyes still wet as he looked at me with curiosity. Wondering what I would do. I looked at him for a moment and then I leaned forward and gently pressed my lips against his.

And we kissed for the second time.

Our grief was a bond.

As the kiss deepened, he picked me up and laid me down on the bed. I began to undo my shirt but he pushed my fingers away. He started from the top, undoing each button slowly, kissing each new inch of bare flesh as he moved down my body.

After all the buttons were unfastened, he pulled the two pieces of cotton to the sides. He looked down at me, now exposed and vulnerable. And his eyes were watering as he murmured something to himself that I couldn't hear. When he looked up . . . his eyes were so sad that my heart broke. I could wait no longer. I grabbed his tie, pulling him down to cover all that he had made bare, and I kissed him again. And then I rolled him beneath me . . . and we made love.

That was the first time.

We didn't speak of the first time. But then a few weeks later, it happened again. Another bad day. Another night where one of us needed comfort.

And after that it started to happen more often.

It went on for months. We didn't talk before, or after. He just held me, or I held him, depending on whose day had been worse. It wasn't meaningless sex. It wasn't even just comfort sex.

It was something else, but I didn't know what.

Our relationship, such as it was, existed solely on the road. And always after midnight behind a locked hotel room door.

That's not to say things weren't changing in other aspects of our lives as well.

We sat together more often than not, he partnered us up on almost every case, and we started to finish each other's sentences.

And then one day . . . he brought me a coffee.

It was just sitting on my desk when I came in. I looked up to his office and saw him leaning against his doorjamb. He was staring at me without expression. And then his face softened, and a faint smile touched his lips before he turned, and went back to his desk. I looked at the cup, and my heart began to fill with joy.

I smiled like an idiot for the rest of the day.

That night he knocked on my door. He had Chinese from my favorite restaurant. I had mentioned the place to him when we were on a stakeout four months earlier. After we ate, I took his hand, led him to the staircase, and brought him up to my room.

We weren't on the road, neither one of us had a bad day.

When we got upstairs he laid me down on the bed and slowly undressed me. And then he lovingly ran the tips of his fingers over my bare skin just as he had dozens of times before.

But that night was unlike any of the others.

After he came inside of me, he pressed his lips to my ear and he told me that he loved me, and that I made him happy and that he hadn't been happy for such a long time.

I cried.

That was two years ago. And today was our wedding day. We got married in a Catholic church in Virginia in front of our friends and our families. His son was the ring bearer, our media liaison was my maid of honor, and our best friend, was his best man.

And the man who was once just my boss, is now my husband.

A terrible day, an offer of comfort, an unexpected moment of grace and acceptance. These are things that you don't plan.

These are the moments that will change your life.


A/N 2: This was another funny little one that came to me and insisted on being told, and being told in a certain style. The final product didn't seem to suck so I figured it could go up :) The lay, lie, laid, lied rules really did drive me nuts here. But I've sort of had a headache for the past thirteen hours so I shoved all the competing alliteration aside and just went with "laid". If it's really bugging anyone, feel free to make an argument in favor of your verb conjugation and I'll probably change it.

I might have another prompt inspired one shot going up tomorrow. Otherwise, Girl update probably by Saturday. Love the feedback mis amigops - I was watching Jimmy Neutron and Carl added a P to it :)