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Delicate: #18 A~N

#16 A~N
Waking The Dead//Frankie/Boyd//For 30kisses
A/N: I admit, it's been so long I can't remember what this 'a~n' is supposed to mean. I think it was 'ah, okay...' but I could be wrong. I do know this chapter fitted at the time though



Boyd's triumphant smirk intrigues her, so when he calls the whole team to the main office she immediately follows; dropping the box of gloves she had previously been ripping apart.

She takes a seat behind Mel's desk as Boyd goes to fetch Grace and Mel. Spence notes her arrival with a quirk of his lips, but gives Boyd a sceptical look and continues to shuffle and tidy the papers on his desk. When Boyd has disappeared into Grace's office he casts Frankie an irritated look. 'Do you know what this is about? I was hoping to be finished on time today; this place is driving me crazy after these last few weeks.'

'No idea: it was my curiosity that drew me out here.' She smiles in reply as the other three emerge, with Mel muttering the same complaints as Spence.

'This had better be worth it Boyd.'

'Oh it is Mel. Infact it's brilliant. I've just heard from court…'

'Is this about Heatherton?' Grace winces as Spence mentions the name, and Boyd reaches a reassuring hand to her shoulder.

'Yes it is Spence. He was found guilty of the abduction, rape and murder of Keeley Hopton and the abduction of Dr Grace Foley. He got the maximum sentence'

'Thank God!' Grace half sighed, half laughed as Boyd squeezed her shoulder.

'I told you it was good news!' He smiled down at her before stepping away to let Mel and Spence both share their congratulations. 'And congratulations Frankie, because we all know we wouldn't be here if it wasn't for that DNA match from her coat.'

With a wide smile Grace reached to clasp Frankie's hands in hers: 'He's right Frankie, thank you.'

Blushing awkwardly, Frankie nodded and smiled: 'Only doing my job, Grace.'

'But so well.' Releasing her hands, Grace pulled away 'And you will allow me to buy you a drink as a thank you?'

'Go on then, you twisted my arm.'

'And everyone else? Can we say the Crown, this evening?'

***


'Frankie…'

She's so lost in thought that she almost hits the ceiling as Boyd's voice cuts through the silence of the lab, dropping her keys with the shock. 'Thanks Boyd!' She mumbles, crouching to retrieve them 'I thought you'd gone with the others.'

Smugly looking down at her, he replies 'the responsibilities of the boss. I had a few things of my own to clear up, and thought I would check on you before I left, see if you were ready. And you are.'

'Was.' Spotting the keys at Boyd's feet, she reaches out toward him but he ducks down at the last minute to pick them up.

'Sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you.'

With a huff of disbelief she rises to her feet, rocking back on her heels and almost overbalancing. Steadying her, Boyd grabs her arm, and she glares up at him, 'Sure you didn't.'

Feigning hurt he drops her arm and she deliberately turns her back on him as she shrugs her coat on and heads for the door: 'Giving me a heart attack was just an accident.'

He throws her a hurt look, and in reply she flicks the lights off on him. 'Hey,' he whines, quickly darting out the door, 'as if I would do that. You can't find us valuable evidence if you're dead can you?'

His tone is joking – his joy at the outcome of this case was abundant – but she is tender from the stress of the last few weeks and Boyd's comment cuts sharply through her already fragile skin. Her voice is snappy as she demands to know 'is that the only reason you want me here?'

'Because you're outstanding at your job, is that an insult?'

Turning her back on him to lock the door, she refrains from answering him.

'It's not meant to be you know…'

Leaning towards her, he lays his hand on her arm which only flusters her further and she fumbles code for the door. A loud beep slices through the silent department. 'Shit,' she turns to Boyd, intending to shout him down but finds herself far closer to him than she expected. Her anger is lost, her body fighting against her mind, and all she can think about is the burn of his fingers on her arm, his breath running through her hair and the way he's almost pinning her against the door.

She's not sure who makes the first move, but suddenly she's against the door with his lips pressing hers hard enough to bruise. Her hands slide up to his hair, tangling it between her fingers as his hands run down her side, seek the skin beneath her shirt and splay against the curve of her stomach.

There are no fireworks, no blinding moment, just him and her and every nerve in her body on fire.

But, as if on agreement they both pull back. Breathless and unsteady she stares up at him, trying to rationalise, trying just to comprehend the look in his eyes.

'Boyd is that you, sorry I just forgot…'

Mel's voice slices them apart. Immediately Frankie goes to smooth her shirt and Boyd's hand rises to his hair, brushing it flat. They couldn't look guiltier, they are both aware of it and Mel's knowing smirk just reinforces it.