Chapter Text
“You okay?”
Alan’s head snaps back up from where he had been squinting at his work, futilely trying to decipher the shapes and numbers on the slip of paper – which – truthfully – was a lot harder than one would think, especially now that – for some reason that kept eluding him – the letters kept moving around, forcefully jumping up and down before slithering over into the next line.
“Of course, Elizabeth. Right as rain,” he tries to give her a happy smile, preferably one that looks healthy and normal. “Though, I must say that I’m truly touched by your show of concern. Maybe you wouldn’t mind-“
“I’m sure I would. Whatever it is.”
Nodding in an overly somber manner, Alan turns back to his files. He is supposed to work through them all today; it’s what is expected of him now that he is working for the FBI – and there’s another thought, something which he hadn’t ever considered before, and which would probably have made him double over in mock laughter if someone had told him that somewhere down the line he’d end up working for Big Brother.
Still, it’s not so bad. Especially on those days when Elizabeth stops by for a visit to his office. Well, visit might be putting it a bit liberally – a piece of interpretive work. Because she insists (quite forcefully, too) that she is merely here because her boss has send her over to fetch some files or search warrants or permission slips (sometimes, it makes him feel a bit like he is her headmaster or teacher, and maybe she wouldn’t mind indulging him in that bit of roleplay someday. When she finally takes him up on that offer of drinks she keeps swatting away like an annoying fly whenever he attempts to asks her out.)
“You look a bit pale, too.”
Alan heaves a long-suffering sigh and shoves the papers out of his lap and onto his dangerously-towering Not quite finished yet-stack.
“Do I?”
Elizabeth doesn’t dignify his words with a response, merely stares at him in silence. It’s a bit unsettling, this unwavering attention she bestows upon him. How she scrutinizes him as if she’s one of the sociopaths she profiles on a daily basis. It makes him squirm in his seat, and when Alan can’t stand it anymore, he shakes his head with a chuckle that comes out a bit scratchy and breathless.
“I can assure you, Elizabeth, that I’m absolutely fine. Tip-top shape. Actually, if you’d just consider taking me up on my honest advances, then I’m sure I could make some time for a demonstration. If we just clear this desk, I’d quite happily show you exactly how well in shape I am, it would just take a few seconds—“
She snorts and Alan realizes that maybe he shouldn’t have tried to wade through the misty haze inside his brain, after all. Not if he’d like to walk out of this room with his dignity intact and the prospect that in the future, Elizabeth wouldn't look at him as if he’s a complete loser.
“I meant the desk-clearing, obviously. The – ah – other thing would take considerably longer.” He trails off, feels his grasp on reality slipping as his vision blurs into a set of swirling shadows. “Or maybe we could just lie down for a few minutes instead. I think that I would very much appreciate it if we could just jump to the after-part for now.”
“The after-part?”
Even though his eyes are closed – which is a bit curious in itself, because he can’t quite remember having closed them in the first place – Alan is pretty certain that she is laughing at him, her lovely eyes alight with barely-concealed amusement.
“You know,” he mumbles, briefly tries to lift his hand to gesticulate, but it somehow feels much heavier than he remembered so he just lets it fall back to hang limply at his side. “The cuddling part.”
As he slowly drifts towards a much-needed slumber, Elizabeth’s melodious laughter is the last thing he hears.