Work Text:
Sitting on the sidelines never sat well with Morgan. Not as a kid, and especially not now, as a working adult. Overcome by boredom, her heels boom rhythmically against her metal work table she’s perched on, fidgeting with her cuticles.
Just for a few moments, she misses being a janitor, where there were no authority-hungry bosses who gave little grace or leeway.
You should have just kept quiet Morgan, she whispers to no one but herself. Then you wouldn’t be stuck here wasting away.
Tiny flecks of blood emerged at the base of her nails, proof that the silence of the bullpen was starting to gnaw at her sanity.
Eventually, finally, the team trickled in and back out for the day, the intermittent chatter a welcome distraction from the misery she had been suffering from for hours. She pieces together what she can from “so foolish to…” and “be removing evidence…” and “Good job on the fast catch.” She remained unmoving, focused on her hands and only looking up to wish Soto, Daphne and Oz a goodnight in return. If she noticed the concerned but small affirmative nod Soto gave in Adam’s direction, she didn’t put her mind to it.
Minutes later, Morgan was alone again in the bullpen, numbed by the quiet. Adam’s shuffling of papers and breathing was the only difference from before. It does a strange job of both pacifying and unsettling her.
She waits for him to move. To leave. To do something. But he doesn’t. He continues his act of rifling through files and tapping on his keyboard.
“Why are you still here? Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Her voice comes out throaty, a betrayal of her attempt at indifference. Getting yelled at by Wagner in front of everyone was embarrassing, no matter how little she wanted to let on. Adam knowing how much getting kicked off the case had affected her was the last thing she wanted.
“Nah. I’m just waiting.”
The lack of explanation invites a blank stare from Morgan, she’s looking at him without really seeing him.
“For me to decide if you’re okay.”
Shy, Morgan diverts her attention back to her fingers, her feet resuming its swinging against the table stand. A faint ache blooms in her lower back from the hours spent slouching.
She hears him shuffle, then a shadow looms overhead, blocking the bright ceiling light. With her eyeline trained downward, she notices how close he’s standing that she can no longer swing her legs else she would hit his shins.
It must be intentional.
“Morgan, look at me.”
She doesn’t.
“Morgan.” His voice is much huskier this time. Rough but gentle all at once.
But she’s always been stubborn. So she only rolls her eyes upwards until it strains yet she still fails to meet his gaze. All he sees are the whites of her eyes, so he instinctively places a featherlight touch of two fingers beneath her chin and tilts her head up towards his.
She thinks she hears a murmur of “there you are” when her eyes fall on his but it’s so soft and airy it could have just been a sigh.
“Wagner should not have yelled at you this morning. I am sorry he did that. But this job needs you Morgan, as much as I need you in it. You’ve spoilt me with this partnership. Remember when Wagner just came in and you freaked out and said you didn’t want to work with anyone else, –”
“I did not freak out!”
“Yeah you did, but my point is that’s how I feel too. I don’t want to work with anyone else either. But as you know Wagner is a pain in the ass and he’s going to keep pulling us apart. So I need you to play by his rules so there can continue to be an us. That sound good?”
Adam’s tender sincerity seems to destroy her ability to form words. She barely manages an 'mhm' in reply.
A small smile forms on his face. His eyes soften, lost in hers. His fingers trail from the bottom of her chin to tuck an errand strand of hair behind her ear, then falls back to his side. A slight shiver ripples up Morgan’s spine. Adam pretends not to notice, but his breath hitches anyway.
“For what it’s worth,” he continues softly, “I wish the rulebook was written by you too.”
The earnestness of his words seem to dissolve into her chest and rise to lump in her throat. Between them, a moment stretches, long enough for her vision of Adam to turn from sharp to blurry. She looks up toward the ceiling light in a vain attempt to dry her eyes but Adam’s stature blocks most of it.
“Tell me about it.” Morgan offers with a twitch in the corner of her lip. It’s the best version of a smile she’s able to muster, but it elicits an uncomfortably endearing expression from Adam.
“Karadec, I’m–”
I don’t think you’re ready for this jelly (hey)
I don't think you’re ready for this jelly
I don’t think you’re ready for this
‘Cause my body too bootylicious for ya, babe
Perplexed at the origin of the song, Morgan’s eyes dart around the room, eventually landing on Adam with a concerned furrow of her brow. The last she checked they were the only ones there. He stares at her dumbly. An adorable twinkle in his eye.
“Are you going to get that or…”
“What? That’s not my ringto– oh.”
Morgan fishes her phone out from her jacket pocket, it was indeed hers. She holds off chiding Adam for his antics when she sees Ava on the line and answers the call.
“...Yes sweetheart I will be home soon…No I'm taking the bus…Okay see you soon, love you bye.” The line is barely cut when she begins her next sentence.
“Adam Karadec!”
He has a cheeky smile on his face. A sweet expression unfamiliar to Morgan’s tiny catalogue of his facial expressions. It’s cute, she thinks, then chides herself for it.
“Okay. I deserved that but I didn’t know you knew how to change ringtones old guy.”
“I am not a fossil Morgan I know how to work a phone!” Morgan raises her eyebrows in response, unconvinced.
“Fine. I had Daphne help…” Adam looks so sheepish it cracks Morgan up. Another new expression for the catalogue.
Adam decides then that the sound of Morgan’s laughter was so worth the embarrassment of having to ask Daphne for help.
“HAH. I knew it…Well I gotta catch the bus and get home. Thank you for…” She gestures to nothing, hoping he gets her meaning. She knows he does.
“Anytime. But I’m giving you a lift. You’re not taking the bus at this hour. Come on.” Adam leaves no room for her to deny his generous offer, grabbing his messenger bag. He places a light palm on the small of her back once she hops off the table edge, guiding her out. She does try, in her defence, to shrug off his kindness and insist that she’ll be fine. But Adam is Adam and he ignores all her protests, knowing she appreciates any minute extra she gets to spend with her family.
As the car turns into her street, Morgan feels a pressing urge to make time stop. She wants to bottle this moment, this peace that envelops their small space and keep it close to her at all times.
Morgan had spent most of the day alone, forced to replay the exchange with Wagner, each time making her sadder and angrier. But Adam was patient, intentionally turning her mood around with his words and gentle touches. Although she was in the wrong for investigating through red tape alone without the team’s knowledge, she appreciated that Adam did not hold it against her.
For the first time, she thinks she knows what it’s like to be cared for without condition. The realisation warms her thoroughly.
Adam parks the car by the gate. Neither of them move against the background of the soft radio.
An apology burns at the tip of Morgan’s tongue. She meant to say it earlier but the ringtone cut her off. Now, the courage needed to openly admit to a mistake has waned. She puckers her lips, trying to bite back her nerves at the vulnerability she wants to offer. She owes it to him.
“Something-you-wanna-say quiet?” A soft smile and patient eyes is what Morgan is met with when she looks at Adam. His head leans against the headboard, but tilted just slightly so he faces her fully.
She rolls her eyes, but she can’t help the smile. Being read so easily should be irritating, but for some reason she doesn’t mind so much when it’s Adam doing the reading.
She inhales deeply.
“I am sorry. For going behind your back. I know we are supposed to be partners. I promise to try and be better.”
Exhaling shakily, Morgan turns her head back to face the front, focusing on the scene beyond the windshield as she wrings her fingers together. Adam’s scrutiny burns through her left cheek.
A warm hand closes in on her tangled fingers. A squeeze. The touch is gone before Morgan fully registers it.
“Can you also promise to stop changing my ringtone?” It sounds affectionate, but she doesn’t doubt the very real threat behind it.
“Two promises back to back sounds a little much, dontcha think? Maybe another day.”
She shoots him a wink and she’s out the car.
Adam watches her walk in and lock the door. Then he waits a little longer just because.
The ding of a text notification interrupts the replay of the days’ events in his head.
New message from Morgan ☀️
Thank you
Really I mean it
He tries to form a reply, writing and deleting different combinations of ‘my pleasure’ and ‘anytime’ and ‘see you tomorrow.’ He ends up settling on a smiley face emoji.
He shuts his phone off, ready to drive back home when it lights up again.
New message from Morgan ☀️
sent you a link to 10 Phone Tips for Boomers and Seniors
Adam rolls his eyes and drives off.
When he gets home, his cheeks ache from smiling.