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The day had been eventful to say the least and pretty bad to say the most.
It had started out normally enough for O’Doyle. He'd gotten to work, did his job, and then he and Banks spent their break playing a game together.
(That part was admittedly pretty new for him.)
It had all gone downhill pretty fast though. Because why wouldn't it?
Of course all the gold at Fort Knox would get stolen. And of course the culprit had to be none other than the leprechaun that O’Doyle unfortunately called his mother.
(Actually, that was pretty generous. She'd never once acted like one, not in the ways that it mattered.)
So it only made sense that O’Doyle wasn't at all thrilled to join Banks and Curtis on this particular case. The whole point of him going no contact all those years ago was so he wouldn't ever have to see that woman again, and now part of his job at least for today was to see her again?
Even with all the distance, the memories and trauma were hard to forget and move on from. He could only imagine how much worse it would get from having to see and talk to her again.
So maybe he needed a minute to collect himself before he went in to question his mother. And maybe he wasn't having a good day because of this whole thing. Maybe he just wanted to run away.
Those were all normal when one had a subpar parent, sue him.
(Actually, subpar was a generous word too. More like unfit. Abusive. Neglectful. The worst. He could go on, but he digressed.)
But somehow, O’Doyle had made it through that interaction…until he was informed that he was now a person of interest and needed to be taken in for questioning.
And even worse, President Curtis didn’t believe him when he tried to plead his way out of being questioned. Did the president really think he was an accomplice to the mother he hated?
Truth be told, that actually hurt.
So O’Doyle did the unthinkable. He violated his own moral code.
Okay, it hadn't completely been a lie to say that he'd needed a trip to the bathroom. But it wasn't the whole truth either, for he was planning his great escape.
And escape he did.
He hopped onto his motorcycle after retrieving the keys from a box he usually kept buried and hidden.
He made it home before long and decided to do the first thing he thought of in order to try and relieve his stress and calm his frustration and anxiety: baking some cookies.
He wasn't usually one to admit it to anyone (if only because it wasn't typically a topic that came up in conversation), but baking really did help when he was stressed, depressed, anxious, or even just bored. It allowed him to take his mind off of whatever was bothering him and place his focus elsewhere.
Naturally, seeing his mother again after so long had evoked some unwanted memories and feelings. So baking it was.
He was shaping up to stay holed up at home for as long as needed…until a certain coworker of his broke in.
How had Banks even discovered where he lived? Had she followed him or something?
From there, more events took place.
Banks had decided to mind-meld with O’Doyle to learn more, the two of them ended up fighting some leprechauns, and then they discovered that the stolen gold had been dumped at O’Doyle’s place.
Of course his mother would try to frame him for this. Because why wouldn't she? Apparently it wasn't enough that she had tormented him his entire life, apparently she had to ruin his adult life too.
O’Doyle and Banks ended up spending some time together until President Curtis showed up.
Truth be told, he was one of the last people O’Doyle wanted to see right now. And he didn't usually say that, but he was still hurt from the way someone he had come to care for believed some strangers over him.
He made that known, and it had started a bit of a fight between the two that Banks then had to step in and break up.
Before long though, they did make amends and O’Doyle felt at least a little better.
Not completely, but it did help.
Now that the three of them were working as a team again, the rest of the mission went fairly smoothly and O’Doyle’s mom ended up getting sent to the same prison that he had found himself in not too long ago.
(Ironically, she was the reason he had been sent there. He'd assaulted the president for bringing her up. Worse, claiming that he loved her. He most certainly did not. He felt the hate of a thousand suns for her.)
At the end of the day, Banks and O'Doyle began to exit the White House together again.
It hadn't actually been planned, but it also wasn't the first time they'd left work together (funny story was that their first time walking home together had been the day Banks remembered her past thanks to O’Doyle entering her head).
O’Doyle could've parted ways with Banks right then and continued his commute home in solitude…but for some reason, he didn't want to do that.
He chalked it up to the way she had been on his side the entire time today, never once doubting him unlike pretty much everyone else had.
If he was being honest with himself (and he was, he never lied…except for today), it meant a lot to him.
Maybe it was still a bit surprising at times to see someone so openly have his back thanks to his lovely upbringing.
But it also meant that much more.
The two of them walked in silence just as they had not too long ago.
Banks glanced over at her coworker, taking note of how quiet he was. Not that it was unusual, he was just even more silent than he typically was.
O’Doyle remained quiet as he walked, though his mind was anything but. It kept playing through every event of the day.
He had done so much today. He'd seen and talked to his mother again after years. He'd somehow made it through that despite every conflicting emotion that warred inside him the entire time. He'd run away. He'd lied. He'd done that multiple times and it only reminded him why he was so against the act in the first place. He had to remember who he was. The more he lied, the more he found himself wanting to and enjoying it (curse his leprechaun side). And he couldn't do that. He couldn't let his mother win. If he did, what would that say about him? He already felt weak sometimes for still being traumatized, he would only feel worse if she was right about him in any way.
“O’Doyle?” Banks asked, cutting into his thoughts.
O'Doyle blinked and glanced over at her.
“Might be a bit of a silly question considering everything that's happening today, but…are you okay?” She looked at him.
O’Doyle paused, processing the question. She'd noticed how quiet he was. She’d asked if he was okay. She'd done those things even after she'd already done so much for him today.
He wasn't sure how he felt about the fact that one of his first instincts was now to brush it off and claim he was fine. This was why he strayed as far away as he could from dishonesty.
That being said, he also wasn't very fond of letting anyone know when he was struggling. He couldn't rely on anyone when he was a kid, so could he really rely on anyone now?
No, I can, he reminded himself, looking over at Banks almost instinctively as the thought crossed his mind.
(He'd really just done that. He'd really just looked at her when he thought about the concept of trust.)
Then he remembered that she was still waiting on an answer.
“Just a bit worn out,” was the answer he settled on. It wasn't a lie.
Banks nodded. “Understandable.”
They fell into silence again for a minute, both looking ahead as they walked.
The quiet was broken by O’Doyle this time. He looked over at his coworker. No, not coworker. Friend. “I'm probably going to bake some more cookies once I get home. It's been that kind of day.”
Banks smiled. “Oh, that sounds good.”
O’Doyle noticed, and a thought came to him. He didn't normally do this and he wasn't completely sure why he was considering it now, but…
He looked away for a minute, trying to gather his words. “Feel free to come over for some if you want. I know it's pretty late so you probably won't, but-”
“Wait, really?” Banks’ eyes widened.
O’Doyle glanced at her again. “Yeah.”
Banks smiled, remembering how much she'd enjoyed the cookies earlier. Having some more sounded great right about now. “Thanks. I'd love to.”
“Of course.” O’Doyle continued to make his way back home, surprised at himself but finding that he actually didn't regret asking.
The rest of the walk home was spent in silence, and O’Doyle went straight to the kitchen as soon as he opened his door and walked inside. He turned on the kitchen light before glancing over at Banks. “Make yourself at home.”
Banks took a minute to look around and observe the place more in-depth than she'd had a chance to earlier. She couldn't lie, it had a cozy vibe. “Nice place.”
“Oh, thanks.” O’Doyle preheated the oven and grabbed the cookie sheet, placing it on the stove.
“Need help with anything?” Banks asked.
“No, I'm good.” O’Doyle continued to move about the kitchen.
Banks shrugged. “If you say so.”
A moment of silence passed over them as Banks took a seat on the couch and O’Doyle made his way to the fridge and retrieved the bag of cookies.
He opened the bag and began to lay out the cookies across it. He was quiet as he completed the task, thoughts running through his mind just as they had been all day.
He looked up and noticed Banks making herself comfortable on the couch. He smiled to himself at the sight before returning his attention to the cookies.
He remained in the kitchen until the oven preheated, when he then placed the cookies inside and set the timer.
O’Doyle looked over at Banks again before walking over and joining her on the couch, staring straight ahead.
She looked over at him.
The half-leprechaun was quiet for a minute, thinking. He had something to tell her…once he adequately gathered his words.
Banks watched him, waiting to see what he'd do.
“...Thanks, by the way.” O’Doyle held her gaze, not used to saying those words to her but knowing he needed to express his gratitude in some way.
“For what?” Banks asked.
O’Doyle looked to the side, feeling a bit awkward. “You had my back throughout that entire debacle. You kept doing your best to help, and you believed me the whole time. And given my background…I'm not exactly used to that. I'm not used to someone caring that much.”
Banks nodded, listening.
Now that O’Doyle had started to open up, he had a hard time stopping himself. But for once, it didn't feel so scary (even putting aside how Banks had literally been inside his mind now, she had more than proven he could trust her today). “I mean heck, now you know how my mom was. Still is. Being raised by her, if you can even call it that, really did a number on me. I spent so long not knowing who I could trust, so I just avoided letting anyone in at all. I thought I was protecting myself, but it's just felt lonely more than anything else.”
Banks gave him a sympathetic look. “I'm sorry.”
O’Doyle looked at her, trying to shrug it off. “It wasn't your fault. If anything, you made it feel just a little better.”
He paused after the words left his mouth. Jeez, he really was being open today. Who knew that seeing his sorry excuse for a mother after years of no contact would draw this many feelings out of him?
(It was him. He knew that.)
“I'm glad I could.” Banks patted his arm.
O’Doyle looked at her again. “So…yeah, it meant a lot that you were in my corner. Thanks again.”
Banks smiled. “Hey, anytime. We're friends now, right?”
O’Doyle allowed himself to smile back just a little. “Yeah.”
They sat by each other in silence, but it didn't feel awkward for once. It just felt like they'd made another development in their relationship. They were beginning to cross the threshold from coworkers to friends.
Once the cookies were done, O’Doyle returned to the kitchen, placed them onto a plate, and set it down on the coffee table for them to share.
“Finally, they're done!” Banks reached for a cookie.
“Careful,” O’Doyle advised. “They just came out of the oven.”
Banks sighed but withdrew her hand. “I know, it just feels like I've been waiting awhile.”
O’Doyle chuckled.
“Hey, don't laugh!” Banks scolded.
That only caused him to laugh more.
Banks half-heartedly glared at him before the laughing fit struck her next.
Once the giggles passed, Banks reached for a cookie that had cooled off by now. She bit into it and smiled, letting the sweet taste hit her mouth. “Love these. I might have to start coming over more often.”
O’Doyle glanced over at her, surprised that she'd want to do that even if they had started to get closer recently. “I suppose you can.” The words came out casually, but he actually didn't hate the idea.
(He'd go as far as saying he liked it, but he wasn't actually going to tell Banks that.)
“Awesome.” Banks finished off her cookie, a little surprised by the offer but hey, who was she to turn down more cookies?
O’Doyle grabbed a cookie and began to munch on it, still thinking a lot.
The two of them continued to sit on the couch together and switch between idle chat and silence until the entire plate of cookies had been polished off.
“Now those were good,” Banks commented, standing up. “But it's getting late, so I should probably get home.”
“Want me to walk you there?” The question came out before O’Doyle had a chance to process it. Now he couldn't take the words back (not that he wanted to).
Banks looked at him, smiling a little. “I appreciate it, O’Doyle. But you don't have to.”
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“Yeah! It's late and you're probably tired after today. I'll be fine.”
“I mean, yeah. I am. But walking you home is the least I could do after everything you've done for me today.”
Banks chuckled. “I'll be fine, really. Thanks, though.”
“Well…okay,” O’Doyle relented.
Banks gathered up her things and made her way to the door. She looked over her shoulder and gave him a smile. “Good night. See you at work.”
O’Doyle found himself smiling back a little. “Good night. Don't get murdered or anything.”
Banks laughed. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” She opened the door and began to head home, waving at him.
He waved back, watching her leave. He'd mostly told her not to get murdered as a joke, but he did find himself the slightest bit worried despite knowing that she could handle herself in danger.
After some time had passed, his phone lit up with a notification. He glanced down at it and saw a text.
Banks (9:26 PM): heyo! I'm home, didn't get murdered ;P
O’Doyle chuckled and typed out a reply, feeling a sense of relief replace that of worry.
Me (9:26 PM): Good. See you tomorrow
Banks (9:27 PM): see you tomorrow!
O’Doyle began to go about his nighttime routine, his mind still running wild like it had all day.
Even once he'd gone to bed, his mind hadn't quieted down at all.
He stared up at the ceiling, thinking over the events of the day once again. The day had started and mostly been bad, but it had also ended on a much better note than expected.
Today had proven a lot of things: he still had trauma to work through, he had been right to go no contact with his mother, and a lot of things sucked and probably always would.
But most of all, it had proven that he wasn't alone. He did have people in his corner that cared. Maybe it would eventually stop feeling so foreign.
He found himself once again thinking about how Banks had especially been on his side throughout the whole time. Not that long ago, he wouldn't have expected it since they argued more often than not.
But after today, their dynamic of arguing and trading roasts felt miles away. In its place had grown a dynamic of closeness and the first hints of trust.
For the first time in what felt like forever, O’Doyle began to feel a little better about everything.