Title: Natural Attraction
Rating: T (for safety, could pass for K)
Summary: Major Nelson is oblivious, Major Healey is not.
Warning: This is slash, so if you don't like it, then don't read it. It won't hurt my feelings and it won't jonse you out.
Disclaimer: I don't own it. It's as simple as that.
A/N: I had to write something after watching an episode the other night. This is the product of a hastily written 'so-called-plotline' that came out fluffy and very short. 700 words short.
Shy smiles. Quick glances.
Major Roger Healey was acting strange. No, he was always acting strange one way or another, but this was a different kind of strange. Not the everyday oddness that his personality came with, but the reserved weird that only shone through when something heavy weighed down upon him. Roger had even offered to buy Tony lunch. Voluntary generosity? Tony wondered, guilty, if a brain tumor had formed overnight in his mind. So as he sat across from his friend, eating the god-awful lunch that tasted so much better when at the expense of somebody other than his pocket, he noticed that Roger had not so much as taken a bite from his sandwich. A faraway gaze on his face, a disconnected shine in his eyes.
"Roger, you okay?" Tony asked, slightly worried.
Roger looked as if the world crashed around him as his hazel eyes fell on Tony's. He shook off whatever had sent him into a momentary relapse and nodded. "Yeah, yeah, I'm okay."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, I'm sure. Uh, I have a lot of work to do so I'll see you later," he stood up, his cap in his hands, and walked out of the small cafeteria without looking back.
His lunch and the rest of Tony's went untouched until thrown into the garbage by a disgruntled janitor, less than enthralled of the occupation of picking up after others. Tony left with the intention of following him, but he was nowhere to be found.
2200 and Tony had not completed his mountainous stack of paperwork. His thoughts kept wandering back to Roger and, of course, the millions of different ways Jeannie could be destroying his house by. Most people had already left, going home to their families to relax in the warmth of their living rooms, curled into a chair, reading a book by the fireplace that would rarely ever be lit. Yet, here he was. Holed up in his office, writing up on astronautically-related techniques, drinking coffee that could be well over ten years old. His office door opened. He looked up and saw Roger slip through.
"Hey," he said. "It's late. Go home; I'm sure Jeannie's worried sick."
"I'm almost done here. You go ahead," Tony answered, the pen in his hand frozen mid-sentence.
Roger nodded and moved towards the door, but he stopped and stiffened when Tony stood, speaking, "What happened today?"
"Do you ever have…feelings…for someone you shouldn't have feelings for?" he shoved his hands awkwardly into his pockets.
"Listen, I know you like Jean—"
"No, it's not Jeannie," he said quickly, staring down at the floor and shuffling his feet.
Tony's eyebrows raised in questioned and he opened his mouth to speak, but was once again cut off.
"See, I'm so confused. I shouldn't be feeling what I'm feeling…" he threw his hands in the air and began pacing the tiny office.
"Attraction is natural, Roger," Tony said slowly.
"Oh, no, no, no. This is not attraction; it's way past attraction. It's evolved into something else, and trust me when I say that it's definitely not natural."
"Well, maybe it's love," he offered, watching his friend stride back and forth in front of him.
"God, I hope not."
"Why?"
"Because it'll never be returned," he sighed and stood still.
"How're you going to get the girl with that negativity?" Tony grinned light-heartedly, snatching up his briefcase and overcoat.
He looked up and his smile instantly faltered and fell at the pained expression on Roger's face. "Roj?" he asked quietly, walking around to the other side of the desk.
"I—I should go," he stammered, hooking a thumb towards the hall. He took a step backwards and went to turn, but Tony gripped his shoulder firmly.
"Not until you tell my why this is eating you up so badly," Tony said, feeling the warmth of Roger's skin on the palm of his hand. "It is Jeannie, isn't it?"
"You're so oblivious, aren't you?" Roger's hazel eyes burned bright, piercing through the dimness of the office.
"I—"
Cut off again. Not by words. Words didn't taste like Pepsodent and orange soda. Words also didn't feel quite so good when they pushed him back onto his desk and trailed feather-light kisses down the side of his neck. No, that was all Roger and he was much better than words.
Like? I'll gladly write up a longer sequel if you let me know in the review. (M) anyone?