Work Text:
The elevator doors let out a resounding 'ding' as Richard reaches the second floor of Caroline Duffy's apartment building, signaling he's arrived at his destination. Stepping out into the hallway, the colorist rummages through his coat pocket until he retrieves the set of keys to her place, then proceeds to let himself in.
When he opens the door however, he's greeted with a rather chaotic looking sight. Papers and colored pencils are strewn about, a lamp has been knocked over, and he swears there's a faint scent of something burnt hanging in the air. As he shakes his head in dismay, he can't help wondering what on earth happened here?
"Caroline?" He calls out cautiously, as he takes a step inside and shuts the door behind him, looking around for the petite redhead amongst the chaos.
“Richard! Thank goodness you’re here.” The cartoonist sighs in relief as she comes around the back corner of her apartment, looking out of breath and a bit disheveled in appearance.
Eyeing her warily, Richard sees that she's otherwise unharmed, thankfully. “Is everything alright? You look like a mess.”
Caroline makes a face. "Ouch. Way to kick a girl when she's down, why don't cha?"
The blond immediately falters. "I didn’t mean it like that-"
“No, no. It’s fine.” She waves off quickly, knowing he meant no harm by the remark, choosing to instead focus on the matter at hand. "So here's what happened... It all started yesterday, when I promised Annie that I'd make her some cookies to take to her Aunt Camille in Paramus, who just sprained her ankle playing bocce ball with this nice older gentleman that she met down at the-
"Caroline..." Richard interrupts, starting to grow impatient as he waits for her to get to the point of the story.
"Right. Sorry. Anyway, I got distracted while making the last batch of cookies this morning, and accidentally burned them. So I opened the window to let out the smoke, when a pigeon suddenly flew in! And now, no matter what I do, I can't get him to leave."
"Mm, reminds me of Del whenever the swimsuit portion of the Miss America competition comes on." The colorist retorts dryly as he shakes his head. "I guess that means we're calling it a day then, given these unfeasible working conditions, and I can head home."
"Richard!" She whines pitifully, as he turns to reach for the doorknob. "Come on, I need your help! Please."
Reluctantly looking back at his boss, he finds her staring at him with those big, brown, puppy dog eyes of hers, and an unfairly cute pout set upon her delicate lips. With such odds stacked against him, it becomes abundantly clear that he's entered a fight that he simply can not win.
After a moment, the surly artist exhales a defeated sigh. He never has been able to say no to her. "Fine." He ultimately concedes as he removes his jacket, and hangs it up on the hook beside the door. “What do you need me to do?"
Pleased, she smiles cheerily and thrusts a broom into his hands. "Here."
Richard arches a single brow. "I've been demoted to houseboy?" He questions, causing Caroline to giggle and shake her head. "No, silly. This is just to help gently ease the pigeon in the direction we need him to go."
"Isn't this a job better suited for Salty?" He remarks, glancing over at the furry beast who is currently nestled in a basket by the drafting table, fast asleep despite the commotion going on around her. "Why not let your feline friend here solve our little problem, while also getting herself a free meal in the process."
The redhead brings her hand to her chest, utterly aghast at the suggestion. "I don't want to hurt it! That would be cruel. I just want him out of my apartment is all."
Her assistant offers a half shrug in response. "If you say so. Speaking of, where is the rat with wings anyway?"
"I managed to trap it in the bathroom," Caroline announces, looking rather proud of herself for having accomplished that on her own. "which should make things go much smoother now. All we have to do is get him into a corner, carefully wrap a towel around him, then take the little fella outside to set him free. Easy as pie!"
Richard most certainly does not share his boss's level of confidence when it comes to completing this task, but he decides against saying anything for now, and simply settles on a faint grunt of acknowledgement as he follows her across the apartment to retrieve the pesky pigeon.
When they reach the bathroom, Caroline takes the lead and signals for her employee to wait on her cue before moving in. Once she feels mentally prepared, she then begins to slowly open up the door, hoping not to startle the creature inside. That plan immediately falls apart once the gap between the door and the frame exceeds more than a few inches, which allows the bird to slip through with a breakneck speed, rocketing over both their heads.
"It would appear he isn't very fond of small spaces." Observes Richard in his usual monotone manner, as the Midwesterner shoots him a frustrated glare, and the pigeon begins doing laps around the loft.
So much for this being easy.
Deciding to go with a different approach, the duo agrees to sit back for the time being, with the hopes that the bird will eventually tire itself out. After about ten minutes though, it becomes obvious that isn't going to happen, so Caroline reverts back to her original plan of trying to herd the animal towards the open window instead.
A string of rather comedic looking attempts soon follow, amusing Richard quite thoroughly as he refuses to participate in her more outlandish tactics; which included his boss picking up two yellow highlighters to use in a fashion reminiscent of someone trying to direct planes at an airport. He tries to convince her to call a professional to handle this, but it's now become a point of pride for the stubborn cartoonist, who refuses to be outwitted by a bird.
Her latest attempt has her in hot pursuit of the avian, who from the looks of it, is finally heading for the window. At long last, victory seems to be within her grasp, but at the very last second, the pigeon makes an abrupt u-turn, forcing Caroline to do the same. Unbeknownst to her however, Richard had started to trail behind her during the chase. By the time she realizes, it's far too late to slow down, and she winds up running straight into him, sending both of them tumbling to the floor with an ungraceful thud.
A loud groan emitting from the body underneath her soon follows, causing the young woman to let out a gasp. "Oh my God! Richard, I'm so sorry! Are you okay?"
"I'll live, unfortunately." He murmurs with a grimace, eyes shut as he rubs at the bump that was no doubt forming on the back of his head.
As he slowly lifts his lids, Richard is startled to find that the face of the woman he’s secretly in love with is merely inches away from his own, and that she's lying atop him thanks to their recent fall. This realization causes his brain to short circuit, and he suddenly forgets how to breathe as his eyes grow wide in panic.
A voice in his mind frantically urges him to try and push her off in order to put some sort of distance between them, but his body remains unresponsive to the command, still too stunned to function. The matter is only made worse when Caroline reaches her hand out to gently touch his cheek, causing every nerve ending in his body to feel like they're on fire in both the best and worst way possible. The unexpected gesture sparks the tiniest flicker of hope that perhaps his affections aren't one-sided after all, and that just maybe, she feels the same way too.
Sadly, this newfound belief is immediately dashed a few seconds later as he realizes that she was just checking for any additional injuries, further proving to him that his feelings for Caroline will undoubtedly be his ruin.
"Are you sure?" The redhead presses as she sits back, a look of genuine worry and concern upon her face as she remains completely oblivious to what she's doing to the poor artist's heart.
Richard shuts his eyes and exhales a heavy sigh. "Positive."
Relieved to hear that, Caroline's single-minded focus on whether Richard was hurt or not, begins to subside. With those blinders now gone, the young woman suddenly finds herself keenly aware of the fact that she's straddled over his lap with her palms resting against his chest.
A stifled squeak escapes her throat as she draws her hands back, and her brows shoot up towards her forehead. She can only imagine what someone might think if they walked in right now and saw the two of them in this indelicate position. The thought alone leaves her feeling a tad flustered, and warm in the face.
Chuckling nervously, her voice comes out a smidge higher pitched than usual. "I should probably, uh-" She gestures about the room wildly, not quite sure what to do with her hands, before awkwardly scrambling off him and allowing the blond to get up.
Once on his feet, Richard offers his hand to Caroline to help her off the floor. “Here.”
Taking his outstretched palm, she can't help continuing to feel a tiny bit dazed from earlier. It was a completely innocent accident that the two of them found themselves in the positions they had. If anything, it was all the work of gravity, really. Just one of those funny moments they'll look back on and laugh about later. Nothing more.
So... why is it then that she still can't seem to think straight?
"You can let go now." Richard’s voice cuts through the noise in Caroline's brain, snapping her back to the present.
Looking down, she realizes that she's been clasping his hand this entire time.
"Oops! Guess I'm still shaken up from the fall." She explains, ducking her head away from him as she tries to regain her composure.
Richard eyes his employer curiously, somewhat baffled by her bizarre behavior.
'Was that... a blush on her cheeks I just saw?' He wonders to himself, before quickly dismissing the notion. 'No, it couldn't be.' He's only setting himself up for more heartache if he chooses to believe that.
Once Caroline steadies her nerves, she begins to look around for the bird that is currently using her apartment as its own personal playground. Cautiously padding her way out of the kitchen and into the living area for a better view, she no longer sees any sign of him.
“Huh. Think it flew out the window while we were on the floor?”
The colorist scoffs, shaking his head. “We’re not that lucky, or at least I’m not anyway.”
“Hmm..." She scratches at her chin. "So where do you think it went?”
Just then, as if to answer her question, the pigeon appears atop the stairs and makes a beeline right for her.
Letting out a startled shriek, Caroline's hands fly up to protect her face. But before the bird is able to reach its target, Richard steps in, broom in hand to help ward the thing off. "Back you flying Petri dish! Shoo! Shoo!"
As he brandishes the cleaning tool like a makeshift sword, the winged home invader finally takes the hint that he's not wanted here, and flees for the outside.
"Go! Be free! Rejoin all your other feathered friends in the city." Caroline calls out as she rushes across the room and promptly slams the window shut behind the creature, but not before adding one last parting sentiment: "And don't come back!"
With the last bit of adrenaline draining out of her, she leans against the wall for support and looks over at Richard with a triumphant smile as she raises her hands up in the air. “We did it!”
“And it only took us two hours.” He adds snarkily, though his eyes have a lightness about them as the corners of his lips twitch upward slightly.
Refusing to let him sour her mood, she grins even brighter. “We make quite the team, don’t we?”
"Perhaps." He concedes evenly, inclining his head to her. "Though I don't think we should be quitting our day jobs any time soon."
"How's your head?" Caroline asks her assistant as she comes around the coffee table to offer him a bag of frozen peas, having just finished tidying up the apartment.
"Dark. Bleak. Hopeless. Oh, you meant the bump? Still sore." He replies, before murmuring a quiet 'thank you' and taking the item from her.
Feeling a resurgent pang of guilt, she frowns as she joins him on the couch. “I’m really sorry about that, and for dragging you into all of this. I didn't expect for things to get so crazy."
Applying the substitute cold pack to his head, Richard gives a lethargic shrug. "I'm used to it at this point."
"Still, thank you for your help. You kinda saved me back there."
"Well, I wasn't about to let that thing peck your eyes out, otherwise I'd be out of the job." Richard teases lightly, causing Caroline to affectionately roll her eyes at him as she nudges his shoulder.
"Speaking of work," She groans, flopping her head back against the sofa cushion. "I think today is kind of a bust. I'm too exhausted to even lift a pencil right now, let alone sketch out a whole strip. But I do think our little adventure has given me a great idea for one.”
The artist huffs out a dry laugh at the thought, knowing she'll have plenty of moments to choose from to entertain the masses with. "I am still getting paid for today though, aren't I?"
"Yes, don't worry." Caroline reassures him, as the two of them settle into a comfortable silence.
Eventually though, the quiet causes a curious thought to surface in her brain, which she finds herself unexpectedly voicing. “Hey, Richard.” The redhead inquires timidly, fiddling with the hem of her shirt. “Have you ever... thought of us being a team in a different sort of way?”
Briefly taking his glasses off to rub out a smudge on one of the lenses, he regards her suspiciously. “This isn’t you trying to get me to join a cartoonist sports league again, is it? Because the answer is still no.”
Shaking her head in amusement, a warm chuckle tumbles out as she sits up. “No. Nothing like that. What I meant was…” She pauses, uncertain. What did she mean by that exactly? And why on earth was she so worried about what his response to it might be?
“What?” Richard questions softly, soulful brown eyes imploring her for answers that she herself isn’t even sure of.
A spark of electricity crackles between the two, as if daring one of them to make a move. But just like all those countless times before, the challenge remains unmet by either party.
Instead, only a strangled noise escapes Caroline's throat, no words. Swallowing roughly, she valiantly tries to playoff her earlier question as nothing more than a passing thought. “You know what, never mind. I uh-, I was just thinking out loud is all. Forget it."
The blond blinks a few times as the moment passes, then frowns as he puts his glasses back on. “I’m starting to believe you're the one who hit your head.”
'If only it were that simple.' Caroline thinks to herself, letting out a tired yawn as she leans back and rests her eyes. "By the way, you can go home early if you want to, Richard. I think you've earned it after today."
"Hm." Her assistant muses to himself, quite liking the sound of that. There's a painting he's been working on recently that he'd really love to get back to. Not to toot his own horn but, this one might be his best piece yet.
Still caught up in his artistic ruminations, Richard's pulled from his thoughts when he feels something press up against his right shoulder. Turning his head, he finds that the culprit is none other than a thoroughly worn out Caroline, who seems to have unintentionally dozed off, and is now using his arm as a makeshift pillow.
Instinctively, his body stiffens at her touch, going into panic mode. But that quickly begins to subside as he hears the faint sound of her snoring beside him. Exhaling a quiet chuckle, he can't seem to help the smile that tugs at the corners of his lips at the sight.
This peaceful moment turns out to be short lived however, as the apartment door swings open, and Annie Spadaro walks in like she owns the place.
“Hey, Caroline. Richie. Don’t you two look comfy. Strongly strongly comfy.” The brunette grins menacingly, drawing Richard's ire. Though she'd agreed to stop blackmailing him, she still took immense pleasure in quoting that now infamous love letter whenever possible.
Coming around the front of the couch, Annie does a double take when she sees that her best friend is out cold. "Is she sleeping at 1 o’clock in the afternoon? My, God! Did you drug her?"
Richard rolls his eyes at the ludicrous question. “That’s rich, coming from the woman who practically put Caroline in a coma with muscle relaxers after she threw out her back last year.” He points out matter-of-factly, earning him a dirty look from the dancer as she mutters something under her breath.
“Fine. So what did happen, then?”
“We spent the entire morning chasing after some stupid pigeon thanks to you.” He hisses, trying to keep his voice down, as not to wake an exhausted Caroline.
Annie however, forgets to do the same. “Me!? How is this my fault?”
An irritated Richard holds a finger up to his lips to shush her. "You're the one who asked her to make cookies for your aunt.”
"I did not ask her, she volunteered." The brunette quietly clarifies, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Yeah, well, you know she can't say no to doing that sort of stuff.”
Annie opens her mouth to argue, but finds she can’t exactly disagree with him there. Her best friend always was too kindhearted for her own good. “I’ll make it up to her when I get back from Paramus, alright? I promise. So do you happen to know where she put them?”
"They're in a red tin over by the stove.”
Nodding in appreciation, she heads towards the kitchen and grabs the colorful container off the counter. Taking a peek inside, she plucks a cookie out to eat, but stops just short of taking a bite. “You didn’t mess with these, did you?”
“Gee, I knew there was something I forgot to do.” The blond taunts mischievously.
Deciding to ignore him, Annie pops a single cookie into her mouth before closing the lid and heading back into the living room.
“So, you plan on staying like that till Caroline wakes up?” She questions with faux innocence, causing Richard to stammer awkwardly, not having thought of that.
“No. Of course not.” He replies firmly with a swift shake of his head, but starts to feel his resolve crumble upon seeing how comfortable Caroline looks. “Though, I wouldn’t exactly want to disturb her either.”
Annie smirks at the perfect set up. “Richie, you already disturb her. And everyone else you’ve ever met for that matter.”
“Don’t you have a bus to catch? Or a cookie to choke on?” He grumbles, his patience wearing dangerously thin at this point.
Glancing down at her watch, the dancer nods. “You’re right.” Tucking the tin under her arm, she heads for the door to make her leave, but not without one last parting remark to her favorite buzzkill.
“Enjoy your little sleepover, lover boy!" She calls out, causing a red faced Richard to inelegantly faceplant off the sofa.