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Audrey doesn't really get Nathan's condition.
It's partly that he doesn't often talk about it, and partly that she just can't wrap her head around the concept. Within scant hours of meeting him she knew he couldn't feel pain or temperature, and his short-lived relationship with Jess taught her that he can't feel pleasure. She assumes he must feel pressure, otherwise he'd have a lot more trouble doing everyday things like walking and driving and playing with that pen he's always fiddling with in the office. But that's about all she knows -- except, of course, that he wakes up every morning hoping that today will be the day he can feel something again, even if he's never said as much.
As much as she can't know what he goes through, she knows enough to understand the sacrifice Nathan made for Jackie so that the girl could have a chance at a normal life. It's the most selfless gesture she's ever witnessed.
Audrey doesn't know it yet, but when she looks back at this moment, she thinks this is the point she started to fall for her partner.
**
“...so I think we should talk to the Landrys again.”
“Mmhmm.”
At the sound of her partner's distracted agreement, Audrey glances up from her laptop to look across at Nathan. Though he has his own office now, he still seems to spend at least half his time in here with her working their special brand of cases, but today he seems to be having trouble paying attention.
“And since you keep scaring me with horror stories about Maine winters, I was thinking I'd take Duke and his boat and the two of us could go south for the winter. You know, just until the twenty-foot snowdrifts are gone and there's no chance of an ice storm. I'm sure you can hold down the fort until I get back.”
“Okay.”
“Hey.” Exasperated, she raps a knuckle against the back of the hand resting on her desk. “Earth to Wuornos.”
He jerks a bit and looks up at her. “Sorry.” He starts to pull his hand out from where her finger's still tapping, then seems to realize what she's doing and stops. His eyes close for a moment in that way that makes her think he's either processing the touch or memorizing the feeling in case it's the last time.
Audrey abandons her plans to tease him for daydreaming and instead asks something she's been wondering for a while now. “What's it like?”
His eyes blink open. “What's what like?”
She isn't quite sure how to phrase the question. “When I touch you. Does it feel the same as it did before you stopped being able to feel anything?”
He looks away, down to where her finger is still resting on the back of his hand, looking like he's considering how to answer. She keeps quiet.
“Skin to skin contact does,” he says eventually. “Texture, temperature – it's the only time I've felt those things in years.” She brushes her fingertip along his hand, just a bit, and his fingers twitch. She wonders if he feels that faint tingle of electricity of which she's suddenly so aware, then chides herself for the thought. “It's different through clothes. I can feel your body heat if you touch me long enough. Sometimes I can almost feel you through the fabric, if it's not too thick.” He shrugs, still not looking at her. The silence has that heavy, almost embarrassed weight that comes from sharing something personal but neither of them seems inclined to break it.
Audrey pats his hand before pulling away. She needs to sit with this for a bit, figure out what it means, if anything; she imagines Nathan could also use a step back. “C'mon,” she says, pushing up from her chair. “Let's go talk to the Landrys.” And they carry on like the conversation never happened.
In the days that follow, she finds herself hyper-aware of every moment they're close enough to touch.
**
When she reaches Nathan's door, Audrey doesn't bother to knock before entering; if he's not answering her calls then it's doubtful he'll answer the door. Luckily for her -- or unluckily for him -- he's left his door unlocked.
His home is dark, except for a lone light over the stove. It lends enough illumination for her to make out Nathan's lanky form, stretched out on the couch, a three-quarters-empty bottle of vodka on the nearby coffee table. An empty glass lies discarded on its side on the floor. From the entrance to the living room, he looks like he's sleeping.
"Oh, Nathan." Audrey closes her eyes and breathes deep. Today was bad, to put it mildly; they lost three townspeople and two of their own before the latest Troubled person was able to get his affliction under control. As if that weren't bad enough, Nathan had known Davis, one of the deceased officers, for years; he'd gone to school with Davis' oldest son and spent half his childhood in and out of their house as if it were his own. As soon as he could get away after things settled down, Nathan disappeared and she hadn't been able to reach him since. That was hours ago. Though he's private by nature and she tries her best to respect that about him, she really doesn't want him to be alone right now.
Crossing the room, she picks the fallen glass off the floor and sets it on the table before pulling a blanket off the back of the couch and draping it over Nathan's still form; even if he can't get cold, it makes her feel a little better just to make the gesture. Not ready to leave even though there's nothing more she can do for him, Audrey sits on the couch by his hip, just watching him for a moment. With a sigh, she runs her fingers through his hair and leans down to press a kiss to his forehead. If her lips linger a second or two longer than necessary, well, who's to know.
Just as she's pulling back, a hand, warm and heavy, comes to rest on the nape of her neck. She lets her forehead rest against Nathan's, her eyes slipping closed. "Audrey," he murmurs, his breath warm against her lips. She rubs a hand up and down his arm, and for a long time the room is silent except for the sounds of skin brushing skin and their breathing.
Eventually Nathan falls asleep, and Audrey eases herself up. He won't ask for help and she doesn't know what to do, but she can't bring herself to leave her first and only real friend alone when he's hurting. Not caring that she's going to get next to no sleep and will wake up sore and achy, Audrey kicks off her shoes, makes herself as comfortable as she can in a nearby chair, and settles in for the night.
**
By the time Audrey makes it around the front of Nathan's truck, he's already leaning against it, arms crossed over his chest and a grin he isn't even trying to suppress spreading across his face. Following his gaze, she finds herself looking at Duke's boat. Much to her partner's obvious amusement, Duke and Evi are having a full-scale argument in plain view of anyone happening by, apparently oblivious to the attention they're drawing.
Chilled by the breeze coming off the water, Audrey slides her hands in her pockets as she leans back next to Nathan. "Shouldn't we, I don't know, stop them or something?" Back on the boat, Evi throws something heavy-looking, Duke ducks, and it ends up in the water. "Or charge them with littering?"
He's still smiling like this is the best movie he's seen all year. "Nah. Duke doesn't like the police interfering in his life, remember? I'd hate to intrude where we aren't wanted."
She can't help but smile even as she leans sideways to bump his shoulder with her own. "I don't think this is quite the situation he was talking about when he told us to stay out of his business."
"Well, we can't be sure of that, can we?" He turns his grin on her, and Audrey just rolls her eyes and shakes her head in defeat. Suspecting Nathan plans to stay and enjoy the show for a bit, she sidles closer, tucking herself against his side for his body heat and protection against the wind. He is so going to owe her a coffee after this.
**
One evening, Audrey goes on a date.
She's in line at Rosemary's when the guy behind her strikes up a conversation, and by the time she pays for her purchase he's asked her out to dinner. She's all set to decline when it occurs to her that she hasn't been on a date since before she came to Haven, and really, that's either sad or pathetic. Probably both. When she stops to think about it, she isn't even sure if it was really her on that date, or if it was the other Audrey. That makes it worse somehow, so she agrees to the date.
By the time they're halfway through their meal, she's had enough. He's a nice enough guy but they don't have much in common, and the conversation turns awkward more than once. She might have been able to deal with that under other circumstances, but the deal-breaker is that her super-skeptical date attributes Haven's Troubles to attention seekers and the easily swayed. That's the moment she knows this isn't going anywhere. She's at Nathan's door before it's even dark outside.
In no time they're sprawled on the couch with beers in hand ("I've got some Benjy's ice cream if you need to do the girly thing, Parker." / "Don't make me hurt you, Wuornos.") flipping through channels trying to find something worth watching. "Why is it so hard to connect with people?" she asks, watching the shows flick by. "I mean, it took a while, but being friends with you doesn't feel like work. Don't get me wrong, most days I want to smack you for something, but most of the time it's easy, you know?" She sighs, listing a bit to the side, coming to a stop against his arm. She lets her head drop to his shoulder.
Nathan goes very still, then for a moment she feels pressure against the top of her head; his chin, maybe, or his cheek. "Yeah," he says. "I know." He falls quiet again, doesn't offer any snarky comeback about her people skills, or lack thereof. She's okay with that.
On the screen in front of them is some sort of sci fi movie with such awful special effects that she thinks the kids down at the high school could do better. It's painful to watch. She can't imagine Nathan's enjoying it either.
Neither of them moves to change the channel.
**
She isn't sure how she knows he's there – she can't see him and she's pretty sure he didn't make a sound – but she has no doubt that he's found her. "Duke ratted me out, didn't he?"
"He's worried about you."
Audrey looks back over her shoulder to find Nathan only a few steps away. He's eyeing her position, standing barefoot right at the edge of the bluff where her car went over the edge all that time ago, like maybe he's a little worried himself. "I'm fine," she says, turning back to stare out over the edge of the cliff.
Her partner, of course, hasn't tracked her down because he's concerned about where she's standing. "You took off awfully fast after we got O'Malley calmed down." His voice is neutral as comes to stand next to her.
She stares out at the water, indistinguishable from the sky if not for the stars above; the sliver of moon doesn't offer enough light to see much. “I needed to think.” Nathan's quiet beside her, his silence goading her into continuing in spite of herself. “I was struck by lightning. Lightning. And I just walked away without so much as a headache.” She turns her head in his direction but doesn't quite look at him. "Who am I, Nathan? Hell, what am I?"
"Hey." His hand lands on her shoulder, pressing gently, and she lets him urge her around so that she's facing him. "First, no matter what's happened, or what's going to happen, you are Audrey Parker. Don't ever doubt that." He looks so sure, so intense, that she feels her breath hitch in her chest. "As for what you are... I don't know, Audrey. We may never know. But the things you can do, they help people." He finally drops his gaze from hers, letting her draw a full breath. But then he takes one of her hands in his, fitting them together, and now she can't breathe at all. "Is that such a bad thing?"
At first all she can do is stare at their joined hands. His thumb is moving just a bit, stroking her skin, and if it were anyone else she might think it an unconscious gesture. But for a man who has barely felt a thing in close to a decade, she imagines that even the slightest touch does not go unnoticed. "No," she breathes, tightening her hold on his hand. He grips back. "No, it isn't."
For a long time it's quiet, both of them looking at their clasped hands. After a while he sighs and gives a little tug, pulling her just a step closer, and lets go.
It's been a long, long day. Trusting Nathan to hold her up, she leans forward and lets herself rest against his chest; barefoot, the top of her head barely reaches his chin. For a moment he doesn't move, but then she feels his discomfort as he wraps his arms around her. He's not a hugger. Under normal circumstances, neither is she.
Part of her would be perfectly content to stay right here, warm and safe and not thinking about anything. It's not often she gets to feel this way. But this is pushing boundaries, and she's sure he has better things to do with his time than babysit her and her neuroses.
"I'm tired," she admits as she pulls back. His arms, no longer stiff around her but now relaxed, are loose enough to give her some space but don't quite let her go. She neither questions it nor tries to break his hold.
"You want a ride home?"
She almost says yes. She's tired and in a weird headspace, and somehow he just makes it better. But he's looking at her in a way that's so much more open than usual, and she's thinking and feeling things that she tries not to around him, and on top of all that they're still touching. She thinks if she lets him take her home, she might do something very, very stupid.
He scares her. Not physically – there's no one in the world she trusts more than Nathan; he wouldn't hurt her if his own life depended on it. Of that she has no doubt. But she knows him, knows he's an all-in kind of guy, and that kind of shift in their relationship would mean having to consider things like marriage and kids and forever. She thinks she might be too damaged for anything like that to ever be her reality. Risking their partnership, their friendship, is not something she's willing to do.
No matter how much, sometimes, part of her wants it.
"No," she makes herself say. "I'm okay to drive."
His hands tighten on her hips for a moment before they fall away. She takes a few steps towards her car, stoops to grab her shoes and socks, and turns back. "Nathan?" She reaches out, makes sure to touch bare skin because this is important. "Thanks."
He doesn't respond other than one of those half-smiles she's so used to seeing on him. She drops her hand from his forearm, turns, and forces herself to leave.
When she looks back from halfway to her car, it's to see Nathan standing at the edge of the bluff, head lowered, eyes closed. With a sudden ache in her chest, she closes her own eyes for a moment before continuing on.
The ache is still there when, hours later, she finally falls into a fitful sleep.
**
She's made herself comfortable on the hood of his truck, feet braced on the bumper, by the time he returns. As hard as she tries – which, maybe, is not all that hard – Audrey can't help the laugh when she gets a good look at him.
His eyes narrow at her as he approaches but she knows he isn't really upset. Her eyes skim over the spatters of paintball hits on his shirt and back to his face. “Everything go okay?” she asks with her best serious, innocent look.
“Sure, fine. Thanks for the backup, by the way.”
“You seemed to have everything under control.” Unable to help herself, she laughs again. “Blue's a good colour on you.”
His lips start to twitch as he comes to a stop by her knees. “Is that so?”
“Yup. Though maybe not so much on your face.”
The paint on his cheek is superficial; not a direct hit, but ricochet from a paintball hitting a surface near him. He reaches up and rubs at his face, missing the blue freckles entirely.
“C'mere.” Leaning forward, Audrey puts her hand on his face, her fingers just behind his ear, and uses her thumb to swipe at the paint on his cheek. Some of the smaller specks have already dried and flake off under her touch, but the larger spots are still wet and she ends up spreading it over his skin, making more of a mess than he started with. “Oops.”
Grinning, hand still resting against his face, she flicks her eyes the few centimetres up from where she'd been watching her efforts, a Smurf joke on the tip of her tongue. Then her gaze connects with his and the lighthearted moment evaporates in the space of a breath.
He's just staring at her, and if she thought she saw more than usual that night he found her at the edge of the cliff it's nothing compared to the way he's looking at her now. There's affection there, confusion, some pain, but almost all she can see is the longing. The ache from that night is back in her chest, but overpowering it is a sudden heat that's out of proportion to the chill of the day.
The fear is still there, too, taunting her with all the ways this could go so very wrong. In this moment, Audrey couldn't care less. Leaning forward, she presses her lips to his.
For several very long seconds he's completely still. She's just about to pull back, convinced she's completely misunderstood what she was seeing and wondering how she's going to look him in the eye after this, when his hand comes to rest on her knee. Before she has time to wonder, he's kissing her back.
He's careful, tentative, like he's afraid she's going to change her mind. It doesn't stop her breath from catching. She uses the hand on his face to pull him a little closer, her other hand glancing off his side as she slides it around to his back and up near his shoulder. His mouth presses a little harder against her own and his voice is in her head from those too-short hours when he could feel again, do you know the skin on your lips is the most sensitive on your entire body? She arches toward him, her hand fisting in his shirt.
It's as if her reaction has given him permission. His hands slide up her legs, from knees to hips, and he tugs her closer even as he steps as near as the bumper of the truck will let him. Her brain short-circuits at the feeling of Nathan pressed against her and she's only barely aware that she's half reclined on the hood of his truck. Then one of his hands slides under the hem of her shirt, touching bare skin, and he shudders and she moans – or maybe it's the other way around; she honestly has no idea at this point – and it's enough to shock her back to her senses.
“Wait,” she says against his lips, but he keeps kissing her like he either didn't hear or doesn't care. Of course, the way she's got one hand sliding through his hair and is kissing him back probably doesn't lend her protest much authority.
She allows herself another few seconds of his mouth moving over hers before settling her hands on his shoulders and pushing him back far enough that she can sit up and breathe. “Nathan, maybe this isn't such a good idea.” She catches a flash of something in his eyes and hastens to finish her thought before he can misunderstand. “I'm not sure it's such a good idea for the interim chief of police to be caught making out with one of his detectives on the hood of his truck in the middle of a work day. Probably doesn't make the best impression of the Haven PD.”
He blinks at her like it's taking time to process her words. She tries not to notice that his breathing is still unsteady. “Oh,” he says. “Right.” He straightens a bit, taking a small step away from her, but she doesn't let go. Neither does he.
“How about dinner?” she suggests. “After work.”
He smiles at her, slow but genuine, and she finds herself grinning back. “Sounds like a plan.” He helps her off to the ground and they linger for a moment, reluctant to let go, before separating to their respective sides of the truck.
She smiles the entire way back to the precinct.
--end--