A/N: Takes place after Season 6. Not related to any of my other Doyle/Nadia stories. Meant to cure some serious writer's block on my ongoing fic :)
Disclaimer: Characters are owned by 24
She watches the clock on the bottom right hand corner of her screen. It's almost noon. She'll have to leave.
The CTU staff pretend to be busy as their director descends down the steps from her glass office. Her gait is measured and normal but quickens when she thinks no one is watching. They crane their necks to watch her figure hurry down the hallway out of the building. Then the gossip starts. They all know where she goes.
In Mike's apartment, the TV is perpetually on. He's not watching, of course. There are other uses for it. He keeps it on the channel with the comedy reruns; he's learned to tell time based on what's showing. Now, his days are marked in half hour increments, not minutes and seconds like in his previous life.
His ears perk up when he hears the theme song from MASH. This means it's noon. Any minute now, she'll walk in that door. He sits and waits patiently...or rather, as patiently as he can. His foot taps on the floor nervously.
He rises quickly when he hears a jingling of keys and the creaking of a door. He hears her footsteps approach and raises his right hand, palm facing out. When he feels her breath on it, he knows she is near.
He touches her face in greeting. Fingertips lightly skim her forehead, eyes and nose. They always linger at her lips, tracing the curve of her mouth. He can tell her mood based on its shape.
Sloping upwards means her day is going well.
Curving downwards means just the opposite.
Stretched in a thin line with a sharp exhale means she's impatient.
Slightly parted with a quick intake of breath ... He can't really be sure what mood she's in, but he knows its effect on him.
Is it only his imagination or does she sometimes press a kiss on the pads of his fingers?
She leads him out the door and onto the driveway. His hand is on her elbow the whole time.
Being blind is not so bad after all. It gives him an excuse to touch her.
Usually, she takes him out to lunch or to do mundane chores. He's glad to be out in the sun, feeling its warmth if only for an hour.
Today, however, is different.
They sit outside the doctor's office waiting for his appointment. She notices his hands are shaking even though he tries to hide them between his legs. She reaches out and covers them with hers, keeping them there until the nurse calls them in.
-- Several months later --
He waits across the street outside her building glancing at his watch. It's almost five. Any minute now, she'll be walking through those doors. He catches his breath when he sees her hurrying down the steps.
When she approaches, he raises his hand, palm facing out. He closes his eyes for a moment and he touches her face in greeting. Her lips are sloping upwards. They seem to do that more often nowadays.
This time, he's not imagining it when she presses a kiss on the pads of his fingers.
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