


Thanatophobia

by sausuge



Category: Unusuals
Genre: Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-17
Updated: 2009-06-17
Packaged: 2013-09-01 07:00:02
Rating: K
Chapters: 1
Words: 961
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5146600/1/
Author URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/619699/sausuge
Summary: She looks at him like he’s crazy. Hell, maybe he is." Monica/Delahoy, the cutest pairing in existance. Light spoilers for "The Apology Line" One-shot





	Thanatophobia

**Title:** Thanatophobia  
**Pairing:** Det. Eric Delahoy/Coroner Monica Crumb  
**Characters:** see above  
**Rating: **K  
**Word Count:** ~700  
**Spoilers:** Light spoilers for "The Apology Line"  
**Author's Note:** What is it with TV and cancelling the good shows? I guess it was pushing it to hope a well written, witty, gritty, _good_ show, with _phenominal _characters and actors could last, huh? I wish it could have just _one more _season... On another note, this is by far the cutest, most adorable, and just plain _right _pairing on television. :) They're simply made for each other. So I wrote a little piece about Monica giving Eric a ride to the hospital for their totally sekrit MRI.  
**Summary:** She looks at him like he's crazy. Hell, maybe he is.

* * *

**Thanatophobia**

_"Familiarity creates a new language, an in-house language of intimacy that carries reference to the story  
the two lovers are weaving together and that cannot be readily understood by others."  
lain de Botton_

"I don't mind."

She glances at him out of the corner of her eye, then makes a right turn and switches the blinker off.

"What are you talking about?" she asks curtly. She gets snippy when she's nervous. It's cute. Kind of.

"That you're a coroner." She looks at him like he's crazy. Hell, maybe he is. "I mean, the other day. At lunch. When you said that people don't like hangin' out with you, cause you're a coroner. I don't mind."

She turns her head to look at him, her short hair flipping around haphazardly. That was kinda cute too.

"Really?" she asks skeptically.

"Yeah. I mean, I hang around dead bodies and murderers all day. Plus my partner is pretty sure he's gonna die any second, so I'm pretty used to, ya know, that kinda stuff…"

"They have a name for that you know. Thanatophobia."

He pauses for a moment, "Why do you know that?"

"What?"

"That just seems like a weird thing to know." She looks at him with an unsure expression, like she's trying to tell him with her face that she doesn't know what to say. And maybe that's sort of cute too. "You know a lot of little things like that, or…?" he's not sure why he's asking something stupid like that, but he finds that he really wants to know.

"I guess," she says hesitantly, while glaring at a taxi that cuts in front of her. She glances at him again, with her lips pursed, "I have a sister that works on that Guinness Book of World Records." She ends the sentence like it's a question. "She knows a lot of stupid stuff like that, so I guess I just kinda pick up weird things from her..."

"Really, that's cool." He's nodding his head like an idiot, so he stops and looks out the window, for lack of anything better to do.

The silence stretches out for an uncomfortable amount of time, while Delahoy tries to think of a topic that will get her to talk again. He likes how quiet her voice is. (he also likes it when she's sarcastic. Which is often.)

She beats him to a topic though, when she says, "you know the biggest brain tumor to ever be removed was 16 centimeters long? It was in New Dehli."

Again he has to pause, "Thanks, doc, that's really helpful, makes me all warm and fuzzy inside." Jesus, she really was horrible with people, wasn't she? He can't stop the incredulous look from sticking on his face.

She glances at him in alarm. It's sort of disconcerting, Considering she's the one driving, he really doesn't like the deer-in-the-headlights look.

They relapse into silence for a few minutes. Delahoy is busy looking at the homeless guy haggling for change when they stop at a red light, and she whispers, "She was okay. No physical side affects what-so-ever."

He blinks once, then turns to look at her. She's looking worriedly out at the road and doesn't bother turning to look him in the face.

She was trying to be comforting. In her own weird, misanthropic way. And that was sort of cute too.

His lips twitch upwards as he turns his head to look back out the window and they pull into the hospital parking lot.

"Betcha I could beat that record."

"It's not the size that matters." And she's using that sarcastic voice again, the one that's a little lower than her normal voice; the one that's given him more than a few wet dreams. "It's the spots it hits."

He can't help a chuckle (and a few more dirty thoughts) and says good-naturedly, "Don't worry, mine hits all the right spots."

She puts the car in park, turns to look at him and says seriously, "You'll be fine, I promise." And he has to hold his breath and blink to make the sudden tightening in his chest and the twisting of his heart go away, right before she adds, "I hope."

He lets out a puff of air in the form of a laugh, and pushes his way out of the car.

"You are very strange." He says.

He won't tell her how adorable he finds her strangeness until they're laying next to each other in the hospital supply closet an hour and fourteen minutes later.

And he'll think the way she blushes and leans over to kiss him is kind of cute too.

* * *

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