[fic] Holding onto Hope (FAKE, 1/1, G)

[rynne]

My yuletide fic!

Title: Holding onto Hope
Author: Rynne
Rating: G
Fandom: FAKE (manga)
Summary: She could hold onto her hope a bit longer. Diana/Berkeley UST.
Notes: Written for yuletide 2008 for paperiuni.


The 27th precinct, again. It seemed the world was conspiring to get her to this place, Diana thought almost sourly as she walked into the familiar building.

Still, startling Dee was always fun, and Ryo even gave her a kiss on the cheek in welcome. The two of them finally seemed content, which was something, at least. Maybe now the only unresolved sexual tension floating around this office would be...

Well, best not to think about it. There was only so much disappointment she could dwell on before she shook herself out of it.

"The Commissioner's in his office, if you're looking for him," Ryo told her, helpful as always. She gave him a flirtatious wink as she passed him, but he just smiled, unfazed.

Berkeley was hard at work when she entered, of course. "What have I said about knocking?" he asked, not even looking up.

"I don't know," Diana replied, enjoying the way his head snapped up at the sound of her voice. "What have you said about knocking?"

"Diana." A smile flitted on and off his face, then he stood, walking around his desk to lean against it. "What's going on now?"

"Does something have to be going on for me to come see you?"

"Diana."

She leaned against the wall, done with her fun for now. "Well, it's not anything like the last few times, hopefully. Someone we've had our eye on in narcotics has recently moved from LA to New York, man named Jesse Thompson. He's a pretty small fry, but he's in a position to name bigger names, and we think we might be able to flip him."

"Oh?" Berkeley raised his eyebrow, crossing his arms against his chest. "So what do you need from me, then?"

Unable to resist that opening, she stepped close to him, close enough that she could smell his aftershave and feel the heat emanating from him, and purred, "I'm up for anything you can give me."

But he was used to her, and didn't offer a reaction beyond closing his eyes briefly. Moving back a bit, she cut to the chase.

"Just a couple officers to go with me to pick him up, show him that both the feds and the locals are willing to work together on this. An interrogation room, and a nurse standing by -- he's got a heart condition."

"Is that why you chose this particular man to flip?"

She nodded, crossing her arms. "Hopefully we can make him see that the stress of what he's doing will kill him eventually, if he doesn't get bumped off first, and it's really in his best interests to cooperate with us."

He went back to sit behind his desk. "When do you need them by?"

She tilted her head, thinking. "Would tonight be too soon for you? We need to dress up the interrogation room a bit, but that shouldn't take very long, and we'd like to get this done as soon as possible."

He flipped through a few papers on his desk, then said, "Tonight should be fine." Then he looked up, and she struggled not to shiver beneath his piercing gaze. "Why didn't you call first?"

There were too many ways to answer that, none of which she could say to him. I didn't want to hear your voice without being able to see your face right now. I didn't want to set this up with someone else and then maybe not see you at all.

I just...wanted to see you.

But he gave no indication of being receptive to the kind of answer she wanted to give him. How long could she hold onto her hope before she had to give up on ever having the place in his life she wanted?

Injecting a cheerful tone into her voice, she said, "Aw, but wasn't it a nice surprise?" She raised an eyebrow, silently telling him that it was, indeed, a nice surprise.

He seemed to get the message. "A visit from you is always nice," he said, even managing to sound sincere, and she smiled at him, moving to kiss him on the cheek.

"You say the sweetest things, Berkie." His cheek beneath her lips had just the slightest hint of stubble, but she made herself move back before she could really savor the sensation. "I'll call you with specifics later."

She walked out of his office, refusing to look behind her to see if he was watching her go, or if he'd just gone back to work like she hadn't even been there in the first place.

She thought she could feel his gaze on her back, but she wasn't sure if she could or if it was wishful thinking, and she wouldn't let herself check.

--

She made Berkeley give her Dee and Ryo to pick up Thompson. He'd just smirked at her when she asked, but of course the real bitching came from Dee. A look from Ryo quieted him down, though, and that was good, even if their visible contentment was annoying her. They didn't have to be quite so obvious about it.

She'd had another agent call Thompson before Dee stopped the plain black car in front of his apartment building, so he was primed and clearly nervous when he opened the door to her knock.

"Mr. Thompson? I'm Agent Diana Spacey of the FBI." She flashed him her badge, which he glanced at before returning his gaze to her face. He wasn't even looking at her legs or her cleavage, and she wasn't sure whether she was impressed at his focus or amused with his anxiety. "These are Detectives McLean and Laytner of the NYPD. We'd like to talk to you for a few minutes, though we would also like to make it clear that you're not being charged with anything. We just want to talk to you."

His eyes flicked towards the inside of the apartment, where she could just barely see a woman standing. Faint rap music coming from down the hall indicated a teenager. He swallowed. "Yeah, all right, but not here, okay? Don't need to involve my wife and kid, right?"

She nodded soberly, though inwardly she was smirking. This was exactly what she'd wanted to happen, and she didn't even have to ask for him to come with them herself.

"Of course," she said. "Please come with us."

Thompson went over to his wife and spoke quietly with her for a few minutes, then grabbed a coat and hat from a hook by the door. "I'm ready," he said, sounding tired. But Diana said nothing as she led him out to the car.

--

They'd covered the interrogation room with pictures, of him and of his bosses, though of course the bastards in charge had taken care to be doing nothing incriminating in any shot the FBI could get. Still, all the pictures had made an impression on Thompson, who could barely take his eyes off them throughout the conversation.

And Diana did call it a "conversation". She didn't want to scare him off--she wanted him to trust the FBI more than he trusted his organization. She was gentle and professional and made sure he knew the nurse was always standing by in case of any complications, though thankfully nothing happened, even when she gave him what was almost an ultimatum.

"Look, Mr. Thompson. Your organization is going down. We have the resources and the information," she'd told him, frankly if optimistically. He didn't need to know that it was half a bluff. "The only question is if you want to go down with the ship or not. The FBI is prepared to make a deal with you, and I suggest you take it."

It had all been downhill from there, though she'd sent him home before he could give her a definitive answer. She wanted him to stew, to dwell on all his options, to come to the realization that this was the best one outside of the intimidation of the precinct. He knew their power, now time to let him know their mercy.

Now, though, she was tired. Not because of the assignment, which was definitely one of the easier assignments she'd had. But it was always exhausting to come to New York City now that Berkeley was here.

She heard footsteps from behind her where she still sat in the interrogation room, in front of the desk with its full spread of pictures. She didn't even bother to turn and look to see who it was, and didn't jump when strong hands landed on her shoulders and started kneading them.

"Thank you," she said, rolling her head around. Berkeley knew how tense interrogations made her, especially when she had to hide her tension from the person she was questioning.

"Of course, Dee Dee," he murmured. She closed her eyes, glad that he was behind her and couldn't see her face. That nickname--she wasn't sure if she loved or hated it, if the affection it signaled meant he thought of her as a good friend with possibly more, or as a younger sister.

She made herself relax, even if her body wanted to tense up even further just from having his hands on her. She kept her eyes closed and her breathing even, trying not to think about the fact that it was Berkeley behind her, and slowly she felt her muscles relaxing even further. She sighed, and let her head fall back to rest against him, glad when he didn't move away.

"How did it go?" he asked.

"Well, I think," she answered dreamily. Massages always made her feel so loose, from her muscles to her brain. "I'm gonna let him stew a bit, but I think he'll flip."

"Good."

She hummed as his thumbs dug in further, though his hands were still gentle even as they were firm. His skin was warm through his shirt, and she wanted to turn around, to slide her arms around his waist and bury her face in that warmth.

Instead, she said, reluctantly, "If you don't stop that, I'm probably going to melt into a puddle and then you'll have to clean me up."

She felt the chuckle vibrating in his chest before she heard it. He moved back, but not before giving her shoulders one final stroke that felt more like a caress than anything else. She suddenly felt very awake, though she told herself that she was imagining things.

Still, she swiftly twisted around in her chair, snapping her eyes open. Berkeley's eyes weren't quite as guarded, for once--she caught him looking at the expanse of leg exposed by her short skirt and twisted position, and when he noticed her gaze on him, his eyes met hers, and her heart started pounding at what she saw.

"Berkeley?" she said softly, not wanting to scare him away, but not wanting to let the moment pass. If this was the moment when he finally let her in--

But he closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, they were as opaque as usual. All she saw was a faint flush on his skin, which was the only clue he gave her that she really had seen the depth of emotion she thought she had.

So much emotion...she'd always known Berkeley was a passionate man. That was part of what attracted her to him. The fact that he typically hid his passion only enhanced her interest--she wanted to see him lose control. She wanted him to lose control with her.

Maybe not tonight, she thought, staring up at him. But he'd just given her a glimpse of himself, and what she'd seen in his eyes hadn't been an emotion appropriate for a younger sister.

Sudden giddiness bubbled up within her, but she didn't let it out. Instead, she hugged it closer. Berkeley's passion, for once focused on her. She didn't want to ruin it by making him annoyed or defensive, as he would be if she started laughing in joy.

"I have to get back to work," he said abruptly, and was halfway across the room before she could respond. Almost as if he were running away, she mused, another burst of giddiness trying to let itself free.

She stayed where she was, not wanting to make it seem like she was chasing him, but he stopped at the door and looked back at her. "Don't...leave without saying goodbye, all right?" he asked. He even waited for her nod before disappearing out the door.

He wasn't ready to let her all the way in yet, she could tell. But he was starting to let his barriers down around her, and if she wasn't mistaking the look in his eyes or his reaction to her tonight, he felt for her something like what she did for him.

I'll let him stew for a bit, she thought, finally letting herself smile. If he didn't come to her soon, she'd try to figure out where to go from there, but hope was mixed in with her giddiness now, hope pulsing through her with every beat of her heart.

She could hold onto her hope a big longer.