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A compass and a set of keys.
Sully was right. It was very symbolic. More so than maybe he initially realized.
Brennan had been surprised that he had actually bought the boat. Happy for him certainly, but still a little surprised. Granted, Sully had been talking about buying a boat practically from the moment she had met him, but that hadn’t been his only “I could leave the FBI and do X instead” plan. There had been the sandwich shop, the swamp tours, and by Brennan’s estimate, roughly fifteen other ideas that he had talked about in the weeks she had known him.
And it wasn’t that she hadn’t taken him seriously. But it had still blindsided her a little bit.
But not as much as what he said next.
“I’m going to tell you something,” he said, looking fairly uneasy. “ And I want you to think about it for a while before you answer.”
“Okay,” she replied warily. Even though she hadn’t known him very long, she knew it was rare for him to be ill at ease.
A smile flickered across his face for a moment. “Yeah, you say okay. But it takes you microseconds to think things through, so this time I’d appreciate it if you took a breath because it’s, ah... it’s big.”
Big. Well, the man didn’t exaggerate. Sully was leaving the FBI, as soon as they solved the case of the boneless bride in the river. He said that he wasn’t resigning officially—not for a couple of months. But that was what it boiled down to. In the meantime, while he used up his leave he was sailing south to the Caribbean to start running charters.
Brennan said very little, not wanting to give away how tight her throat had gotten—not wanting to give away that she was upset. But her silence seemed to have the opposite effect on Sully, who began to outline his plans at a near breakneck pace.
“You’re talking a lot,” Brennan observed. Because when you don’t know what else to say, that leaves stating the obvious.
“I know. And I haven’t even gotten to the main part. Which is, I really really want you to come with me.”
“You do?”
In spite of how close they had gotten in such a short amount of time, Brennan wasn’t expecting that. Even though it was logical. Wasn’t that what normal couples did? Adapted to accommodate changes in each others circumstances for the sake of remaining together? Why then wouldn’t he ask her?
“I do.” Sully stepped closer. “Take a sabbatical. There’s more to life than corpses and murders. You know, we do this job for too long we get warped. I can feel it happening already. Maybe you can too. Let’s run away together.”
When she didn’t answer right away he began to babble a bit nervously again.
“Well, you know—think about it.” He shifted uncomfortably in the silence. “Want a hug?” He half-laughed at his own question and stepped away. “Okay. No. That’s…that’s an awful lot to process. So, I don’t know…let me know when you think maybe--”
Brennan stepped forward and wrapped her arms tight around him before he could move any further away. So tight she actually thought she felt him wince a little. But all he said was, “Okay,” as he returned the hug in kind.
They both knew that the act of hugging was not an analog for Yes, I’ll go with you. But it was not one for Goodbye either.
It is pure human instinct when faced with tumult, either physical or emotional, to hold onto something that feels safe and familiar.
For as long as you possibly can.
Sully was right. It was very symbolic. More so than maybe he initially realized.
Brennan had been surprised that he had actually bought the boat. Happy for him certainly, but still a little surprised. Granted, Sully had been talking about buying a boat practically from the moment she had met him, but that hadn’t been his only “I could leave the FBI and do X instead” plan. There had been the sandwich shop, the swamp tours, and by Brennan’s estimate, roughly fifteen other ideas that he had talked about in the weeks she had known him.
And it wasn’t that she hadn’t taken him seriously. But it had still blindsided her a little bit.
But not as much as what he said next.
“I’m going to tell you something,” he said, looking fairly uneasy. “ And I want you to think about it for a while before you answer.”
“Okay,” she replied warily. Even though she hadn’t known him very long, she knew it was rare for him to be ill at ease.
A smile flickered across his face for a moment. “Yeah, you say okay. But it takes you microseconds to think things through, so this time I’d appreciate it if you took a breath because it’s, ah... it’s big.”
Big. Well, the man didn’t exaggerate. Sully was leaving the FBI, as soon as they solved the case of the boneless bride in the river. He said that he wasn’t resigning officially—not for a couple of months. But that was what it boiled down to. In the meantime, while he used up his leave he was sailing south to the Caribbean to start running charters.
Brennan said very little, not wanting to give away how tight her throat had gotten—not wanting to give away that she was upset. But her silence seemed to have the opposite effect on Sully, who began to outline his plans at a near breakneck pace.
“You’re talking a lot,” Brennan observed. Because when you don’t know what else to say, that leaves stating the obvious.
“I know. And I haven’t even gotten to the main part. Which is, I really really want you to come with me.”
“You do?”
In spite of how close they had gotten in such a short amount of time, Brennan wasn’t expecting that. Even though it was logical. Wasn’t that what normal couples did? Adapted to accommodate changes in each others circumstances for the sake of remaining together? Why then wouldn’t he ask her?
“I do.” Sully stepped closer. “Take a sabbatical. There’s more to life than corpses and murders. You know, we do this job for too long we get warped. I can feel it happening already. Maybe you can too. Let’s run away together.”
When she didn’t answer right away he began to babble a bit nervously again.
“Well, you know—think about it.” He shifted uncomfortably in the silence. “Want a hug?” He half-laughed at his own question and stepped away. “Okay. No. That’s…that’s an awful lot to process. So, I don’t know…let me know when you think maybe--”
Brennan stepped forward and wrapped her arms tight around him before he could move any further away. So tight she actually thought she felt him wince a little. But all he said was, “Okay,” as he returned the hug in kind.
They both knew that the act of hugging was not an analog for Yes, I’ll go with you. But it was not one for Goodbye either.
It is pure human instinct when faced with tumult, either physical or emotional, to hold onto something that feels safe and familiar.
For as long as you possibly can.