Work Text:
It finally stopped snowing.
Sofia Karppi looked up at the sky, letting her hood fell onto her arms when with surprise her eyes were scanning the clouds above her head, almost like looking for a sign there was only a temporary break. But no. Dark clouds were slowly moving across the sky, giving a place for the light ones, finally making the weather at least a bit more bearable. She sighed softly under her nose, content with the view, and allowed herself to keep looking for a long moment. But the truth was she was trying to delay the inevitable as much as she could. A moment that was meant to come, sooner or later, yet the one she was still not fully ready for.
Three months.
Three months since she has been suspended, accused of hiding information crucial for the ongoing investigation. Three months of struggle and anxiety, until Henna was finally cleared from all the charges, her case being declared as acting in self-defense. Three months since she last held her badge in hands, now its heaviness feeling almost strange, foreign in her palm. But most importantly, three months since she has last seen him.
He never called, never texted, never contacted her in any other way. Sometimes she caught herself looking through the window, a part of her hoping to see his slim silhouette, hiding in the shadows, hands in the pockets of his coat, just like he always did. But whenever she looked, whenever she was almost sure that she caught a glimpse of his car, of his hair, of his face, it was all her imagination.
She couldn't count all those times when she was so tempted to take her phone and call him herself, hell, even just send a simple text. But what would she say? What would she write? Would she ask him to come over? Thank him? Tell him that she had finally understood?
Three months.
That's how long it took her to finally understand and forgive him. She was furious at first, the feelings of pure betrayal and anger boiling inside her whenever she remembered his look, the last one he has given her, right before he took Henna, right before their paths diverged for three long months. But then she finally realized, that it was all for the better, that he was saving her from making the hard choice herself, that by betraying her and her daughter he was rescuing her from doing it herself.
She should be grateful.
She should thank him for this, apologize for not reaching out to him earlier, she should tell him that she understands and that she doesn't hold any grudge. Not anymore.
But she never could.
Whenever she tried, her fingers were suddenly freezing midair, hovering over the keyboard but refusing to cooperate, suddenly not capable of pressing those few letters on the screen, her muscles acting against her will, not willing to write even the shortest message. So days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and her every attempt ended being the same failure as always.
And now she was here.
Strong wind messing her hair, yet every gust carrying the shy warmth of spring, welcomed after such a long winter. Rays of sun, stronger with each passing day, shining right into her eyes, making her squint with an effort to see anything. And the building, closer and closer when she hesitantly approached it, each of her steps suddenly slower, her heart beating like crazy in her chest with this weird anxiety.
It will be the first time in months she will see him.
As soon as she was back, they gave her a new case and not allowing for any kind of protest, gave her Nurmi as a partner again.
And he was already waiting for her.
She could see his figure, in front of the building, a cup of coffee in his right hand, his face and body turned to the left side, almost like he was hypnotized by that one spot she was unable of seeing herself. Will they be able to work together again? Will they learn to fully trust each other, just like they once did? Will time be enough to fix the relationship they had before? She was close enough to notice his hair moving gently with every gust of wind, she could already see with surprise that the stubble on his face was much longer than she remembered, and with another step she took, she swallowed hard.
He hasn't noticed her.
Not yet.
He was nervous and he would lie to say otherwise. This meeting, this case, finally seeing her after all this time was filling him with this weird nervousness he almost loathed himself for feeling.
After all, it was all because of him, right?
He was the one who brought Henna for questioning, the one who betrayed his friend, his partner, the one who avoided her through those long three months, ignoring the itching feeling in his fingers, telling him to write to her, to call her, telling him to get into the car, knock to her door and at least explain himself to her.
But he never did.
Maybe he was just nervous, maybe he was a pure coward, unable to face the consequences of his decisions. He didn't even know what should he tell her when they'll meet. Was there anything proper to mention in this kind of situation? An apology? Telling her it's good to see her? Admitting he could have done everything differently? He was never a master of conversations and when it comes to situations like this, he knew even less how to behave. He took a sip of his coffee, the liquid pleasantly warming his tongue and stomping nervously in once place, Nurmi finally slowly turned around.
And that's when he saw her.
The mess of her wavy hair unmistakable when she was approaching him slowly, her steps almost measured and her eyes squinted, making it's hard to say if she was looking at him right now or not.
Did he notice a hint of a smile on her face when his gaze met hers or was he imagining things? Did corners of her lips raised, just so slightly, in the ghost of a smile, or was it just wishful thinking? Soon she was close enough for him to see the familiar color of her dark eyes and this weird feeling of longing filled him just at the familiarity of them.
„Sakari Nurmi.” She said, standing right in front of him, corners of her lips now raising indeed, almost like she was trying to resist the urge to smile, almost like she was thinking it wasn't an appropriate thing to do, at least not yet.
Just two words, his name spoken so softly, which took him back in time, just a few months ago when they were in the same place, their roles reversed, him approaching her after weeks of not seeing each other and him, saying her name, just like how she said his now.
„Sofia Karppi.” He responded, now corners of his lips twitching, wanting nothing more but to raise in a smile as well.
But this time there was no welcoming hug, this time there was no kiss on the cheek as a greeting. This time they weren't two friends, meeting after weeks of not seeing each other, craving and missing each other's company. This time they were two people, both betrayed, both hurt, those two names spoken as a hope, that maybe with time it will be possible to fix all this what was between them.
Only then she noticed that on his other hand he was holding a second cup of coffee, the one he reached out to her, as a gift, a simple gesture of peace offering. None of them was ever good with words, none of them brave enough to articulate what was going on inside their heads, none of them capable of admitting to all those feelings they were fighting with inside.
A cup of coffee.
Someone would say it's nothing, but it was everything.
An apology, for what has been done; an offering to forget about the past and let them fix what has been broken; a hope that she will take it and with time they will learn how to trust each other again.
She smiled.
For the first time since she has arrived, she actually smiled to him, corners of her eyes squinting when she reached out to him, her hand grabbing the cup of coffee he was offering.
Her fingers met his, fingertips gently brushing the skin on top of his palm when she tried to grab the cup and accidentally found his hand instead. But before she had a chance to apologize, before she even thought of taking her hand back, she felt his fingers moving, slowly letting go of the cup, his fingertips drawing tender patterns over the skin on her palm. Barely a few brushes, yet too slow, too caring to be considered innocent.
Her fingers finally wrapped around the cup and she raised her head, their gazes meeting, two deep wells of well-hidden emotions, barely reaching the surface and sinking deep down once again, before being properly grasped.
Yet for now, it was enough.
The names, the cup of coffee, the brush of the fingers.
And innocent promise, a shy invitation, a silent hope, they were both ready to dive into.
„So...” Karppi cleared her throat and took a sip of her coffee. „Tell me about the case?”