Quality Time
Rating: Trainee
Summary: G/C friendship semi-fluff
Disclaimer: I own nobody and nothing that has ever been seen on TV
Author's Note: Q :-)

Feet up on the desk, arms rested on the arms of the chair, one hand will swirl her pen round in her hair while the other taps a random beat against her thigh, as she sits in his office, ostensibly helping him with his paperwork. Ostensibly. They are both aware that is not the real reason she's there. Just as they both know that assistance with his reports is not why he lets her help him.

His eyes will peep over his glasses as her feet begin to move to the rhythm, and with a small smile, he will sit back in his chair and wait for what he knows is coming next.

Sure enough, seconds later she will start to hum, and shortly after that she will flip the file shut and turn her head towards him, starting a little when she finds him looking straight at her.

"Need a break?" he will ask, with a gentle smile.

"Yeah… I was just gonna say that," she'll reply.

"I know," he'll smirk, and then he'll take the lead by standing and moving round the desk. He'll hold out his hand to her, and she'll accept with a smile. "So, what will it be today?" he'll ask as they walk towards the break room. "Coffee, or soda?"

And she'll look deep in thought for a few seconds then answer him: "Coffee," with a definite nod.


They'll slip into the break room, and she'll take a seat at the table while he proceeds to the counter and pours them both a cup of coffee.

Taking his own seat opposite her, he'll hand her a cup, and she'll take it from him with a gracious smile.

For minutes they will sit in silence, sipping the hot liquid, cherishing the taste as it sooths their thirsts.

Occasionally they will look at each other and smile, and even when their attention is seemingly focussed on their drinks, their awareness will be very much rested on the person opposite.

"So how's Lindsey?" he'll ask eventually, and she'll tell him of the latest report from her daughter's school, or the latest assignment the girl has talked animatedly about.

He'll lean towards her, softly placing his hand on hers, and repeat his question in a more serious tone. And she'll tell him of their latest argument, or the latest way her daughter has found to defy her disciplinary measures.

He'll smile, sympathetically, and gently squeeze her hand, and she'll smile back, and, beneath the sadness that shadows it, he'll know there is thanks for his support.

They will sit in this secure silence, still holding hands, until she has absorbed enough comfort to get her through the week, and then she'll put on her brighter smile again and she'll ask him what his pets have been up to lately.

He'll tell her stories about spiders and beetles, and they'll laugh at her shivering reactions. He'll offer to take her to bug exhibitions, or let her accompany him to the next cockroach race, and she'll politely decline his invitations, as he had expected she would. After all their actual purpose is to make her smile.

Mission accomplished, they will realise their break has run longer than they'd intended, and they'll stand simultaneously and stroll back to his office.

He'll hold the door open for her, and their eyes will meet as she walks past him, nodding and smiling her gratitude. He will return the nod, and they'll both take their seats, exchanging another smile before they pick up their reports and get back to work.


A week later, she will have her feet up on his desk, and she'll swirl her pen round in her hair, and tap a random beat against her thigh.

And it will happen again the next week, and the week after that. Because helping with his paperwork isn't the real reason she's there, and assistance with his reports is not why he lets her help him.