Disclaimer: The Invisible Man and Invisible Friends are owned by Stu Segall Productions, the Sci-Fi Channel, and probably some other folks, not li'l ol' me. The lyrics are from Sarah McLachlan's "I Love You," which can be found on the Surfacing album. If you take me to court, I'm using the insanity defense...
Raiting: G
Pairing: Darien/Claire UST
Spoilers: Miniscule one for "Catevari." Set after "Beholder."
Summary: I cross the miles with my telephone dial.
* * *
It's just and me on my island of hope
A breath between us could be miles...
Darien Fawkes didn't breathe as the phone he was calling rang once...twice...three times. Air didn't pass through his lungs until after the receiver was picked up, and an accented "Hello?" came over the line.
"Hey." Breath passed through his lips, and Darien gratefully sucked in another gulp of oxygen.
"Darien," Claire said, sounding surprised. "Why are you calling?" Darien raised an eyebrow at the question, and it seemed as if she had seen him through the phone, because she added quickly, "Not that I mind, of course."
"No particular reason," Darien said, plunking himself down on his couch in hopes that this might turn into a longer conversation. "I miss you."
There was a few seconds' silence from Claire, as if she was thinking over what to say in response to that. Finally, she replied neutrally, "I miss you too, Darien."
He knew she thought it was somewhat odd for him to be calling her while she was in D.C. to tell her he missed her. They shared professional and friendly relationships, and had even been known to spend a few off hours together, but they had very separate lives. He hadn't realized until she'd been gone for five days how much he enjoyed being in her presence.
"So, how's the conference going?" he asked, desperate to continue their conversation and keep her voice dancing in his ear.
"It's quite interesting. I may have a few more leads to explore on getting that gland out of your head." Darien heard something rustling as Claire spoke, and deduced after a moment that she must be settling into bed. It was after eleven in Washington, after all, even though the sun was still shining--albeit close to the horizon--in San Diego.
"Hey, that's great." Darien had learned not to let his hopes rise too high on the subject of getting rid of the Quicksilver gland, but he appreciated that his Keeper was still working on it.
"And I ran into my old friend Dana at the session yesterday," Claire continued. "We got a chance to catch up. She's had a very eventful life lately--she mentioned something about alien abductions and her partner at the FBI." Darien could just see Claire's brow furrowing in doubt as she said the last part of the sentence.
"But anyway, how do you like Dr. Adams?" she asked, changing the subject to her replacement while she was gone at the week-long medical research conference.
Darien groaned slightly. "He doesn't have your touch with the needle."
He heard a soft laugh from Claire, as pleasant as music. "Well, I'll be back in two more days. You can live with him until then, can't you?"
"Maybe," he muttered darkly. She laughed again. Darien pulled up the blunt face of the old man, Adams, in his mind. He didn't trust him, not like he trusted Claire. Adams seemed like an agency goon who was far more interested in experimentation on the resident invisible man than in treating him. He hadn't run any tests, but Darien could tell that if the Agency would just give him one tiny bit of leeway, Darien would have monitors all over his body and needles in places he'd never known existed. Not that he hadn't suspected Claire of having the same agenda at first, of course, and it was likely that she had. But as she'd told him, once you got to know her, Claire could be much more than a cold scientist wanting to run even more cold-blooded tests. Darien trusted her to look out for his welfare first, and that of the gland second. Her replacement had the two reversed.
"Aside from being annoyed by Doctor Adams, whom, I might add, is a good friend of mine, and I hope you aren't entertaining horrible thoughts about him..." Darien wondered briefly if Claire were telepathic. "What have you been up to?"
"Oh, the usual--catching terrorists, busting in on the mafia, and generally watching out for the welfare of the people," Darien drawled.
That earned him another small chuckle, and a semi-serious warning of "Darien..." He loved the way she said his name. Her accent was deceptive, painting a picture of someone soft, gentle, and unable to hurt a fly--which she was, more often than not, lately--and masking the hard core that was eminently capable of protecting itself and the flesh and bone surrounding it.
They continued talking, the conversation light and airy as they both relaxed with each other, until they fell comfortably into a silent lull. As he listened to Claire's soft breaths traveling from three thousand miles away, Darien was suddenly hit with an acute desire to see her, to touch her, to smell the soft perfume of her skin. Suddenly, just hearing her voice wasn't enough, not when he wasn't distracted by whatever topic they were discussing.
He forced the sudden pain in his middle to curl up into a little knot that he could pretend to ignore for the time being. He heard her say, "Well, I guess I ought to go. I have to get up early tomorrow." She sounded reluctant.
Darien glanced out the window and noticed that the sun had set, and streetlamps were now the only lights in the sky. "I guess it is kinda late over there, huh?"
"Mmm-hmm." She sighed. "I'll see you in a couple days. Thank you for calling."
Darien felt a tempest of emotion raging in his heart and mind, and it all concentrated on Claire. Before she left, before the connection was cut and the miles between them became even more insurmountable, he wanted to say...he wanted to say...
"Not a problem. I... I just wanted to hear your voice."
He felt her smile through the line, even as his own lip trembled rebelliously. "Good night, Darien."
"Good night, Claire."
He hung up the phone.
And I forgot to tell you_I love you...
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