A 666 Park Avenue fan-fic/AU
A/N: Although circumstances may change as (or if) Season 1 goes forward, the performances of TOQ and VW are far more convincing to me than any others on the show. They come across as being a "together couple" through thick and thin, although not always motivated out of the goodness of their hearts. We'll see. I have slightly modified/re-ordered the chain of events as we saw them in the last few episodes.
Summary: For many different reasons, some spoken aloud and some not, Gavin Doran considers Olivia to be his greatest treasure. In the aftermath of the Drake's annual Halloween party, he has to decide how best to protect his wife from his enemies, and from himself.
Olivia Doran stared pensively out across the nighttime skyline of New York, seeing all of the familiar tall skyscrapers but somehow not recognizing any of them. From the terrace of their Park Avenue penthouse apartment, the ground level and the people there going on with their lives, seem so far away. She sighed, mentally chiding herself, and feeling a bit confused: Dr. Todd had assured her that she merely had had too much to drink on an empty stomach, but a disturbing lunchtime encounter with this stranger, this creepy Victor Shaw, had led her to seek out a second opinion. Her almost forgotten mug of herbal tea is cooling rapidly in the night air. She took a sip, her actions automatic and savors the lightly sweet mixture of chamomile, ginger and honey. Her nutritionist always recommended this particular tea for its calming properties, but at the moment, peace and calm were eluding her completely.
It is well after 1:00 a.m. Behind her, Olivia heard her husband stepping out from their penthouse's open double-glazed doors, treading lightly in his custom-made Italian leather shoes, and he removed his jacket to cover her bare shoulders against the chill of the night. The initial blood test by Dr. Todd Scott had revealed a high BAC and also residual chloroform in her system. Olivia only learned about the "recreational" chloroform in the second CBC analysis, still wondering why neither man had let her in on that particular secret.
"Olivia? Are you alright my dear?" His deep voice is soft as his hands gently grasp her upper arms through the fabric of his suit coat. Gavin placed a kiss on the side of her forehead and she instinctively leans into him, a familiar and comforting gesture for both of them. Her body reacts before her brain does, seeking its own solace as she fits into his left side, her head automatically cradling just below his broad shoulder.
She sighed and shook her head slightly, cupping the ceramic mug in both of her hands to gather its dwindling warmth, two of her slender fingers resting in the white handle. "Nearly, I just can't seem to shake this headache." A pain had settled like a vise just above her eyes and at the back of her neck.
They had already had some discussion that afternoon about Gavin concealing things from her (regarding the events of the Halloween party and her brief kidnapping), but some things had gone unsaid and unresolved.
"Mm, I'm sorry to hear that," he murmurs, turning her slightly toward him so that he can look into her beautiful face. "Should I call Dr. Scott to come to see you again? Maybe he can give you something to help you relax tonight." Doran rubbed her arms, giving her elbow a squeeze to let her know that he is there for her. He had apologized earlier, assuring her that he would not keep that sort of information from her again.
Olivia managed a small smile, seeing the genuine concern in her husband's deep green eyes, and remembering that it was that look that had made her fall for him in the first place. The smell of his aftershave wafted up from the material of his jacket and she still found him completely intoxicating. The name of Drakkar Noir jumped into her mind as she felt her smile at last reaching her eyes. Her heart actually skipped a beat.
"No Gavin, thank you dear, don't trouble him this late. He's already done so much for us. I'll be fine." She pauses to take a sip of the herbal tea. "A massage and a good night's sleep will put me right as rain, I'm sure." In her head, she also said and a good stiff drink, but alcohol of any kind had no appeal for her then.
Gavin chuckled quietly and she could feel the rumble of it deep in his chest where her arm rested against him. "I can arrange that for you." His eyes are twinkling rather naughtily in the reflected moonlight, and one eyebrow rises in a question. "Shall I call Francesca or Lars this time?"
Despite her slightly worried frown, she gives him a soft laugh in reply. "Fran, please. I'm not up for Swedish massage tonight."
He immediately smiles down at her, enfolding one sturdy arm around her back and guiding her inside. She accepts a quick kiss on the lips and lets him take the empty mug from her hand, placing it on the glass end table nearby. "Why don't you go slip into something more comfortable for your favorite masseuse and I will coordinate for her to come up right now?"
Any protest she had was completely drowned out when he kissed her again. Olivia knew that Francesca lived on the third floor of the Drake and seemed to keep odd hours with her studies anyway.
"Thank you, Gavin," she said, caressing his cheek. "Thank you for looking out for me."
He returned the gentle caress, kissing her fingertips as he pulled his cell phone from his trousers pocket. "It's what a man does for the woman he loves."
Gavin stepped into the vaulted foyer just outside of their master bedroom suite, returning from his brief visit to the Department of Corrections establishment on the other side of the river. He brought a finger to his lips, asking Francesca with his glance to keep quiet. He slipped out of his shoes, leaving them carelessly on the floor by the antique hallway chair. His tie and jacket already hung from the mahogany coat rack nearby.
Francesca smiled back and nodded as she continued to massage his wife's naked back and shoulder blades, working the warmed oil into taut muscles. Gavin removed his vest and rolled up the sleeves of his gleaming white dress shirt as he padded silently over to the padded massage table; he showed the young masseuse a pair of folded bills that he placed by the white and ivory-themed floral arrangement as he passed it. A two thousand dollar house call was more than worth the loss of a few hours of sleep to the struggling college student.
The image of a predator stalking its prey by candlelight came unbidden to Francesca's mind as he approached but she shrugged it away in the warmth of his approving smile. Still mute, she let his broad hands take the place of hers, as Olivia lay prone on the elevated bench. Her hair was drawn up in a beige terry cloth wrap, and her nakedness was covered tastefully with a crisp linen sheet.
Thank you, Francesca, he mouthed without sound, nodding his head toward the door and her well-earned fee; he was polite in his dismissal. The girl winked and brought a finger to her own lips. She smiled once more as she tiptoed from the penthouse.
Gavin quietly drew a deep breath as he massaged Olivia's back, allowing his fingers to spread across her skin and he moved firmly up to her shoulders and down again. His gaze was touched with true appreciation as he compared the paleness of the top of his hand to the glistening café au lait-color beneath it. Olivia never had any tan lines, anywhere, and he knew this from prior thorough explorations.
"That's lovely, Francesca," came a muffled voice from the head of the massage table. Olivia's face rested in the padded opening, and Gavin grinned when he realized that she was relaxed but not asleep. "And you were right about the tea tree oil scent."
Gavin did not reply as his hands skimmed down her body and he securely grasped her sculptured calf muscles. As long as he had known her, he considered Olivia's legs one of her best features. He licked his lips in anticipation as he mentally counted the thousands of hours he'd spent caressing her bare legs.
The woman groaned a bit when he firmly pressed both thumbs along her instep; first one petite foot and then the other. He was careful not to tickle and he heard her sigh with contentment.
"Thank you for coming up at such an hour too, young lady," said Olivia, raising her head slightly to speak more clearly. In the poor lighting, she did not see her husband attending to her feet and lower legs. "Be sure to tell me if Gavin is not very generous with your tip tonight."
He chuckled softly as he moved back up to her shoulder, leaning down to nip and to taste her bare skin. She started slightly but smirked when she turned and finally saw him there. Gavin bent again to lick and kiss the nape of her neck, and he grunted in satisfaction to feel the gooseflesh rise under his tongue.
"I'm sure he'll be generous, my dear," he commented between kisses, coming in closer when she propped her cheek in one hand, drawing the sheet to not quite cover her breasts when she turned onto her side.
Olivia reached to cup the back of his head when he kissed her again, properly and deeply this time. "You are a sneaky devil, Mr. Doran," she accused with a teasing pout. He shrugged modestly at the compliment.
"Shall I call Francesca back?" she whispered, still teasing him.
Gavin growled, moving in to scoop up her legs, his left arm easily supporting her back. He quieted her with another kiss.
"Perhaps some other time, my dear," he replied in a gravelly voice. "I'm in no mood to share you with anyone right now."
And with that, he carried his wife to their bedroom, locking the door behind them.
Oneshot or TBC?
A/N: I sincerely thank you for reading this far. I'm not sure if the plot bunnies are willing to carry on with the Drake denizens, but we'll see.