Angry - Numb3rs
Dec. 14th, 2011 09:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kitsunerei88Title: Angry
Fandom: Numb3rs
Pairing(s): Colby/Liz – but it’s not specified, so it could be any female agent
Rating: PG13
Genre: General/Romance
Summary: He was so very rarely angry.
Warnings: Haven’t written any fanfiction in 2+ years; does that count? One swear word. First Numb3rs fic.
Disclaimer: Numb3rs is so not my property and belongs to someone who is not me. But depending on which jurisdiction you’re in, you’ve got no case anyway. My dealing is so fair.
Word Count: 476
It happened over dessert.
She’d been watching him with mixed interest and dread since they’d finished for the day. It had been a typical day – paperwork, a call about a home invasion in progress, they were lucky and got there in time to break some heads and save the family. Exciting enough, but this happened every other week when you worked for the FBI.
He didn’t talk to her on the way home, or over dinner. That was Colby Granger – iron control. He’d wait, try to cool off, and have some gentle reprimand ready in a couple hours. She didn’t think that would happen today – she could see the colour rising slowly in his face over dinner, as he stared at the apple pie.
He was so very rarely angry.
“What on God’s earth were you thinking?!” He finally exploded, green eyes snapping, sending his fork rattling onto his empty plate. His fist came down on the table a second later as he stood, towering over her, and she caught her glass of water as it tumbled. “You’re four months pregnant, with my child! You can’t just go and take point on a home invasion in progress! There were four automatics there and you were first in the line of fire! What the fuck were you thinking? You can’t just go on thinking about yourself and, and, and have fun courting death every day anymore! Your actions, they affect me and it’s MY CHILD you’re carrying and I would really appreciate it if you, if you didn’t take any unnecessary risks!”
“Someone had to take point,” she remarked, setting her glass down, a wicked gleam in her eye. She decided she kind of liked it when he was this angry. “I’m only four months along, I’m barely showing. I’ve got the same training you do; I hit the ground, returned fire and didn’t get hurt. Downed one guy before you even had your gun out.”
“That’s not the point!” He took a deep breath, pacing across the table from her. The iron control was seeping back. Damn. “Look, I’m not saying you have to stay at the office doing paperwork, but I am saying that you should be careful and not take point on a home invasion in progress because it’s my child and are you even listening to me?”
She’d stood up, a cat-like grin spreading on her face, and collected their plates. “I love you too, sweetie.”
Fandom: Numb3rs
Pairing(s): Colby/Liz – but it’s not specified, so it could be any female agent
Rating: PG13
Genre: General/Romance
Summary: He was so very rarely angry.
Warnings: Haven’t written any fanfiction in 2+ years; does that count? One swear word. First Numb3rs fic.
Disclaimer: Numb3rs is so not my property and belongs to someone who is not me. But depending on which jurisdiction you’re in, you’ve got no case anyway. My dealing is so fair.
Word Count: 476
It happened over dessert.
She’d been watching him with mixed interest and dread since they’d finished for the day. It had been a typical day – paperwork, a call about a home invasion in progress, they were lucky and got there in time to break some heads and save the family. Exciting enough, but this happened every other week when you worked for the FBI.
He didn’t talk to her on the way home, or over dinner. That was Colby Granger – iron control. He’d wait, try to cool off, and have some gentle reprimand ready in a couple hours. She didn’t think that would happen today – she could see the colour rising slowly in his face over dinner, as he stared at the apple pie.
He was so very rarely angry.
“What on God’s earth were you thinking?!” He finally exploded, green eyes snapping, sending his fork rattling onto his empty plate. His fist came down on the table a second later as he stood, towering over her, and she caught her glass of water as it tumbled. “You’re four months pregnant, with my child! You can’t just go and take point on a home invasion in progress! There were four automatics there and you were first in the line of fire! What the fuck were you thinking? You can’t just go on thinking about yourself and, and, and have fun courting death every day anymore! Your actions, they affect me and it’s MY CHILD you’re carrying and I would really appreciate it if you, if you didn’t take any unnecessary risks!”
“Someone had to take point,” she remarked, setting her glass down, a wicked gleam in her eye. She decided she kind of liked it when he was this angry. “I’m only four months along, I’m barely showing. I’ve got the same training you do; I hit the ground, returned fire and didn’t get hurt. Downed one guy before you even had your gun out.”
“That’s not the point!” He took a deep breath, pacing across the table from her. The iron control was seeping back. Damn. “Look, I’m not saying you have to stay at the office doing paperwork, but I am saying that you should be careful and not take point on a home invasion in progress because it’s my child and are you even listening to me?”
She’d stood up, a cat-like grin spreading on her face, and collected their plates. “I love you too, sweetie.”
