A Lot of Things but Never That
Summary: He wouldn't dwell on it. He wouldn't be jealous. It wouldn't consume him. So he told himself. So it would be. Elisa/Goliath one-sided Dracon/Elisa
Spoilers for: Deadly Force, Protection and Turf and very mild for The Mirror
A/N: For Fatal Errors who answered my challenge in Ten Minutes Past Noon and asked for Goliath/Elisa (ok, cool), a bit of jealous!Goliath (righteous, man, I'm all over it) and then gave me a bit of an Ask Greg question to help with plot. "Did Elisa know Dracon from before "Deadly Force"?" "[…]Dracon was her Lex Luthor, so to speak.[…]" (…I like your thought patterns, friend. I like them a lot).
It took forever for the idea to sink in, but then the plot bunnies took over and here's what came out. It should be noted that I'm a one-sided Luthor/Superman fan and a big supporter of "frienemies". So that's where a lot of this came from. I listened to Fiona Apples song 'Criminal' while writing this. I find it particularly appropriate for the bits about Dracon. Title is a reference to the complicated relationships in this, what they are and what they aren't. Kinda not good that I had to explain that...
Big Note: This hypothetically takes place after Season 3 (which I didn't see most of because it's not canon) if Angels of the Night (again, working on an episode synopsis because I didn't see it) had ended with the Quarrymen being 'outlawed' and the gargoyles getting basic animal rights because they're still big and scary and let's face it, humans are stupid, things don't change overnight.
There are some nights that she has dreams of him. She wakes up breathing hard, feeling sick and dirty but while she's asleep, in that moment, it feels almost natural; standing by his side, hanging on his arm, talking with him. She always wakes before these images can take a turn for the really bizarre. Before a playful comment becomes a heated look.
He's a criminal, she tells herself afterwards. One that she clearly spends too much time with. He has the sort of arrogantly confident that she can't stand and while his reaction to her friends was hilarious, it was also a bit sad. He was a coward and he disgusted her. Still, she sometimes wonders what things would have been like if he'd never been a criminal.
"I still do not see why you are doing this," Goliath's arms were crossed and he was frowning. Elisa smiled and held out the earwig that Lexington had assured them would allow Goliath to listen in while Elisa was conducting the interview . "After all he's done, why would you-"
"He's spent the last six months sharing a cell with one of the Quarrymen. He says he has information on the ones that got away, where the new headquarters are and what the new plan of attack is," her face and voice softened. "He's probably too scared to try anything new Goliath, not after the last time you guys took him out. The Quarrymen are a much bigger threat to you and anyone that publicly supports you than Tony Dracon ever was to anyone."
"Very well, but why you?" Elisa smiled as his tone and tried not to laugh. Always the big alpha male; always trying to protect her. He knew she could take care of herself, but it was nice to have someone worry. She liked that he worried.
"Because he says he won't talk to anyone else and I've got the most experience with him anyways. If anyone can get him to spill all, it'll be me," if Elisa saw the way the gargoyle's lips formed a thin line and how his shoulders stiffened, she gave no sign. She put a hand on his chest. "Hey, you'll be right there with me," she held out the earwig again and this time he took it. "I'll be fine."
"If you're sure," he didn't look convinced, but she could talk him into anything. He sighed and carefully stroked her cheek with a clawed hand. She leaned into his touch and it reminded her of how happy she was with where fate had brought her.
As far as women went, she featured in his dreams most often. These days, if he closed his eyes long enough to dream at all he could count on her appearing. Sometimes as the police officer; righteously angry expression, red jacket, jeans and gun. Sometimes as "Sally"; blond, tacky purple jacket and what he suspected had been her best attempt at a jersey-girl accent. More often than not though, he dreamed of her as the bad girl, the extortionist.
Despite recent events, he was actually quite a good criminal. He knew how to cover his tracks, he knew who to take advantage of and who to avoid getting on the wrong side of. Yes, he'd developed a healthy dislike of large flying monsters and yes he'd had a bit of losing streak, but for a long time his was the name people didn't dare say too loudly in public. The point was he knew what he was doing.
He has to remind himself that she's a cop fairly often. She was the only cop that had dared get so close. She was also the only cop smart enough to get that close. He remembered her on his couch, slim legs crossed, carefully leaned away from him, eating jalapeños out of a jar. He remembered her voice. The way she'd been in control, even when trying to convince him that she should not only be allowed to leave the room alive, but also leave with a piece of his business pie. She hadn't begged for his favor, hadn't played the weak girl card that anyone else would have tried – he was a man after all, and everyone knew that the way to a man's heart was a bit lower south than the stomach – and he respected that power.
He dreamed about that night quite a bit. He dreamed about her outfit and that knowing smile and powerful presence. He dreamt about what would have happened if it hadn't been an act. Splitting the profits from those stores, taking her to dinner to discuss business, talking and teasing. Walking down the street, arm in arm. He always wakes up before a friendly kiss of the cheek can become something more interesting.
Most nights he wakes up out of breath and annoyed with himself for forgetting what side of the law the dark haired vixen was really on. She's a police officer, he has to remind himself as he brushes the damn hair off his forehead, ignoring cat calls from the cell across the walkway. Still, sometimes he has to wonder what could have been if she weren't a cop.
" 'Evenin' Tony," Elisa's smile is smug, not cruel. She isn't usually one to gloat but Tony can appreciate how she chooses the smugness over being vindictive.
" 'Evening Detective," he rests his chin on his folded hands and if it bothers her how at ease he is in the orange jumpsuit and ankle bracelets, she doesn't show it.
"How's prison life treating you?" It's an old game, one that they've played for a long time. She's come to enjoy the exchanges as much as he has. It's easier for her when he's in prison but he seems to enjoy the casual teasing no matter the situation.
"Oh, you know," he shrugs casually and watches her take the seat across from him. Tony isn't the violent type and good behavior means that there's no glass between them in this room, just a table and a guard in the corner. "Been catching up on my reading. Think maybe I'll get a law degree once I'm out," she laughs and he smiles because they've done this too many times to bother with formalities.
He wonders sometimes how long they've been doing this. She'd done this with that man for as long as he'd been awake but for how long before that? He bristles at the sound of her laughing; not the short harsh noise that she makes when she's angry or annoyed, the laugh she uses with Xanatos. This noise is smooth and pleasant, the one she uses with him and the clan.
"I was told you have some information for me about those Quarrymen," still not the brisk, business like voice he associates with her working. It's casual, calm; like talking with a friend. This man should not be her friend.
"Yeah, I've learned a bit of… useful information. But nothin's free Sugar. What are you going to do for me?" Dracon's voice was slick, like grease, and he hated it. Like Angela, Elisa professed a sincere dislike for nicknames, but she didn't reprimand the criminal for the liberty he took when he called her that. He has been told that his 'earwig' has no microphone and that Elisa's small microphone has no matching earwig, so she doesn't hear it as he growls his displeasure.
The weasel acts as though Elisa's attention is his right. He can remember a time when one was expected to work for the attention of a female, especially one such as Elisa. But they have been doing this for a long time, and he forces himself to believe that the familiarity should be expected by this time, in this strange world.
"Tony, Tony, Tony," her voice was more acceptable now. The mocking tone suited this meeting more than the open friendliness of before. "There's no way I'm getting you out scot free no matter what information you have. Let's try for something more reasonable… Ten with a chance of early parole perhaps?" But the teasing tone was more friendly now, more familiar and his jaw clenched.
"You're going to have to do better than that, honey. Your friends are worth more than that, aren't they?" He hears her intake of breath, and consoles himself with the fact that she's as annoyed now as he is.
Later, when they are alone and Dracon is back in his cell, she professes her dislike for the criminal and he agrees with her. She sits on his knee and he holds her around the waist. The night is cool for this time of year and she makes an effort not to shiver.
She tells herself that the criminal belongs where he is and it's true. About that she has no regrets. Their easy exchange comes from how well they know each other, not any mutual attraction. She is not pleased with the deal he proposed and she was forced to agree to. Her dreams are as often about the one she was with now as they were of gangster and more pleasant by far.
"He'll get what he wants," she says softly and this time can't hold back the shiver. Goliath realizes her discomfort and tightens his hold around her, bringing her closer and then closes his wings as well. She laughs softly, the end of one wing tickling her cheek, but she settles and appreciates the warm the change provides. "He'll get the early parole and the community service and he'll be back to his old games in no time," she sighs. She likes it when Dracon is locked up and harmless, but if he got his way in five years, maybe sooner, he'd be free.
Goliath understands that this relationship between cop and criminal is a complicated one. Understands that while Elisa might be… overly familiar with the man that did not mean she wanted him out doing his usual business. He understands that he has the right now, now that it has been earned, to console her with pretty words and he takes this opportunity to do it.
"If he does continue his criminal behavior, we will stop him," he doesn't need to look at her to know she's smiling. He wonders if her smiles come so easily for Dracon.
He knows that theirs is a complicated relationship and that he could not expect Elisa to give up the company of humans for him. He knows that she would never care for Anthony Dracon but he wonders sometimes. Had one not chosen the path that they had, had the other done things differently. Had Goliath and Elisa decided that easier would be better. Had he never woken…
He wouldn't dwell on it. He wouldn't be jealous. It wouldn't consume him. So he told himself. So it would be.
A/N: And there it is. Sorry about the wait but the bunnies don't always breed as fast as we would like… I actually really liked writing about Dracon, so maybe I'll do that again. Please R&R. If there's some sort of pairing or fic you REALLY want to see, let me know. No promises but you might get the bunnies going again.