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#but like in the way 5ft feels like progress in a traffic jam
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Idiot (Affectionate) ~ A Bad Samaritan Fic
CHAPTER THREE: CHANGING TUNE
Pairing: Derek Sandoval x (fem)Reader Word Count: 2646 Rating: T - angst (self esteem issues/abandonment issues) canon-typical language A/N: This here is a Cheese sandwich on Whole Angst Toast. I also feel like I should say thanks to the folks who made some suggestions for me, even though I ended up going with a different song. 
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“Shit,” you muttered, looking up with a grimace of disgust, half-poking your head out from under the awning. You had forgotten your umbrella on your way to work earlier that afternoon, and had spent the whole shift praying that the rain would hold off long enough for you to get home. Unfortunately, it hadn’t and was coming down hard.
“Sean…” you whined, turning pleading eyes on your cousin. 
“No. Y/N, you know I love you, but I can’t. I’m supposed to meet Riley right after work,” he said. “And I’ve already been late to her place three times this month.”
“You’re just going to ‘watch a movie’ and then kick her roommate out so you can fuck. How is that something you can be late for?” you said petulantly.
Derek guffawed. “She’s got you there, man.”
“Just for that,” Sean said, waggling a finger at you mockingly. “Even if I could have given you a lift, I wouldn’t.”
You stuck your tongue out at him, making Derek laugh even more, until you turned your childish, affronted glare on him. 
“I’m glad you find it so amusing that my cousin, my own flesh and blood, would betray me like this,” you huffed dramatically.
Sean rolled his eyes.
“I could walk you home,” Derek offered with a shrug.
You eyed him suspiciously.
“I don’t have an umbrella but it wouldn’t be so bad with company right...like I dunno, solidarity?”
“You’re just hoping the rain will be enough to make my work blouse see-through, aren’t you?” you teased. 
“What, nah! I’m a gentleman, I swear,” he said, placing a hand over his heart. “I want to make sure you get home, that’s all.”
“Don’t you have your car tonight?” Sean pointed out. 
“Come on man, why you gotta blow my cover like that?” Derek hissed with a laugh. 
“What was that about being a gentleman?” you quirked an eyebrow.
“Alright, so it was a little bit about tryin to see your titties. But can you blame me, I mean come on, girl, you’re gorgeous.”
“You are such a dick,” you cried, laughing, punctuating your words by playfully batting at him with fists and the sides of your hands.
He yelped, ducking your ‘blows’, trying to hide behind Sean and the podium.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Mercy!” he gasped through his laughter. “I’ll drive you home, just stop hitting me.”
Immediately, you let up on your attack. “You don’t have to, honestly,” you said, waving aside the offer. “I’ll be fine. I’m pretty sure you can’t actually drown in the rain.”
“You were gonna let Sean drive you.”
“Yeah. But he’s family. He’s supposed to help even when it’s an inconvenience. You have no such obligation.”
“That’s what friends are for though, right?” Derek asked. 
“You’re not an inconvenience,” Sean protested at the same time. “Usually.”
“Friends don’t let friends drive the opposite direction of home just because the drivee friend forgot an umbrella in Portland. That’s like forgetting sunglasses in L.A.”
Sean sighed, rolling his eyes. “Y/N. Just take the ride. Or don’t and get totally soaked. I’m sure your uniform will dry out in the...thirteen hours before you have to be back here.” He shrugged with a pointed look at his watch.
Somehow, in the course of the conversation, the rain had picked up even further, now pounding down in sheets. Very cold sheets. You looked at the waterfalls off the awning with disdain. 
With a grumble and a reluctant protest, you agreed to let Derek drive you home. 
~
A comfortable silence fell over the two of you as Derek navigated the slick Portland streets. You gazed out the passenger side window, lost in random thought, listening passively to the radio, until you became aware of something beneath the sounds through the speakers, almost hidden by the thrumming bass. 
Slowly, you realized that it was Derek, singing along. 
You felt your breath catch, turning to stare at him in awe. He was really, really good. Trying not to call attention to the fact that you were listening, you shifted in your seat, tuning out the radio to focus on him. It was a crooner’s voice at heart, like smoke and honey, soft and warm with sharper hints of something more versatile and modern. You felt hypnotised as several songs went by, drawn in like a magnet to his sound. At the points it lacked technical brilliance, it was made better for its honesty, like no matter what he was singing, he meant it with heart and soul. 
Eventually, Derek seemed to notice your attention. 
“Y/N?” he asked, his normal conversational tone jolting you out of the near-trance he had lulled you into. “You alright?”
“I didn’t know you could sing,” you blurted, voice breathy and soft with awe.
A deep red color crept up his neck, splaying out over his ears and face all the way to the hairline and maybe beyond. He chuckled nervously. It was honestly kind of adorable, and you mentally kicked yourself as the thought crossed your mind. This was Derek you were talking about. The only way he should be paired with that word was if it was in the sentence ‘look at the adorable kitten/puppy Derek is holding.’ 
“It’s just along to the radio, nothing special dawg,” he rushed to claim.
“No. I heard the radio, and I heard you. That was different, you were different. And better.”
“You’re just sayin that.”
“Have I ever said something nice to you just to say something nice?” you asked, your face skeptical. 
He laughed, unable to stop himself. “I don’t think you’ve ever complimented me at all before.”
“Kind of proving my point for me, aren’t you?” 
He snorted.
“I’m serious. Definitely the kind of voice that teenage girls would pay too much money for tickets just to scream over it in a concert.”
“Ya think?” there was a note of hopeful excitement in his question, and he seemed to turn even redder at your words.
“I mean, I’m no expert,” you shrugged. “But I did used to be one. A teenage girl that is.”
“Huh.” 
Silence, save for the upbeat pop song now playing in the background, settled back over the car as he continued to drive, pondering what you said, and you let your thoughts drift aimlessly.
“So what about you?” Derek suddenly asked, making you jump again.
“What about me?” you asked. 
He paused, a spark of tension crackling between you. He reached a hand to scratch at the back of his neck. 
“I mean, were you...did you used to scream over boybands and shit?” he finally managed to say.
“Nah. I never had the money for concerts. Besides,” you flashed him a sheepish half-smile. “I liked some of it, but my taste was mostly more along the lines of Bowie, Broadway, and Cash than it was Fall Out Boy or whoever.”
He seemed to consider this. “Maybe I’ll have to learn some of that for you then.”
“I bet you could do a good Life on Mars,” you suggested genuinely. “Still won’t get you in my pants though.” You couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at your lips.
“Ouch!” he laughed with mock-hurt. “You still think I’m just playin you?”
“Obviously,” you shrugged. “I’m too smart to think otherwise.” 
‘No matter how much I wish you weren’t,’ you thought fleetingly. 
Derek frowned, catching something in your tone, below your usual teasing. Something...sad? No, defeated?
“You don’t think I could be serious? Or...actually into you?”
“Please,” you scoffed.
His frown deepened, hurt that no matter how close you’d gotten of late or how you acted, you still thought that low of him.
“I know I’m not really someone worth sticking around for,” you said softly. “And you’re sweet sometimes, but...that doesn’t change facts.”
He opened his mouth to protest but you kept talking.
“My own parents figured that out, I’m sure you will too. Everyone does. I don’t even mind anymore,” you chuckled bitterly. “It’s just the trying to pretend otherwise that hurts.”
He was silent, unsure where to even start. He wanted to tell you that you were wrong, he wanted to prove it. He wanted to keep the tears he could see building up from ever falling.
 The car slowly rolled to a stop outside your apartment. He realized that somewhen the rain had let up to a fine drizzle, but the gloom had moved inside the car instead. You flashed him a smile that didn’t meet your eyes. 
“Thanks for the ride,” you said, leaning slightly on the doorframe as you got out, and wringing your hands. “I’ll see you tomorrow. And...uh...try not to worry about what I said. It’s...no big deal.”
The car door sounded heavier than ever as it closed and you headed up the walk, turning briefly as you put your key in the lock to wave. 
He continued to sit there, well after you had disappeared inside, trying to wrap his head around what had passed between you. Eventually, he had an idea.
“Sean!” he said into his phone when the Irishman in question finally answered. “Yo, I know you’re wit’ your girl, but this is important.”
~
A week or so later, Derek offered you a ride home again, even though this time it was a perfectly clear night, if a little chilly. There was no need for it, and equally no need to agree.
“Sure,” you said, shoving your hands into the pockets of your jacket and leaning against the building. “If you really want.”
“Great,” he smiled and there was no guile or joke or performance in it, just him, happy that you’d agreed. “We just gotta cash out with Nino and then we’ll go?”
You nodded. Sean lingered at the door, a smug, knowing look on his face.
“What?” you asked, defensive.
“Nothing, nothing. Just quite the shift from ‘oh no I don’t want to be a bother,’” he said in a tone that you thought was meant to be an impression of you, but a very bad one. “To ‘sure, Derek, I’d love a ride home.’” He batted his eyelids for added effect.
“Oh shut up,” you grumbled, feeling your face heat. 
“Admit it. You’re into him.”
“You’re impossible.”
“That’s not a no.”
“You’re right...it’s not.” You looked down, fiddling with a pen you had found still stashed in your pocket.
Sean’s eyes widened. “Really?” He couldn’t contain the excitement in his voice.
You countered it with a glare. “Keep your mouth shut. And go cash out, before you get ripped off by your alleged best friend.”
~
You settled easily into the pleather passenger seat; Derek started the engine and the radio crackled on. You closed your eyes, letting the music wash over your exhausted mind, secretly hoping that he’d sing again. It only took a moment to register this was very different music than what he’d been playing the other night, but before you could ask about it, he started in, humming the opening, gradually gaining energy until he was belting out the lyrics.
“Thanks to you, Bonnie babe, I can make plans again. I've got lots o' reasons to keep livin' Its true that love can set you free, And this world will remember me.”
Swept up in the moment, you answered with the next verse in equal passion and drama.
“You said you'd go straight. Clyde, I wanna be in movies. I can't name one movie star who's doin' robberies on the side. I know in my heart, babe, that Hollywood is callin', How can I be in the spotlight if we always have to hide?”
The pair of you grinned at each other as you continued the back and forth, voices syncing surprisingly well for having never sung together before. You couldn’t help the sort of giddy rush you felt, losing yourself in the music and the character.
As the last note chopped off, you reached over, turning the radio down enough to have a conversation over it.
“You’re pretty good at that, Bonnie,” he joked.
 “It helps to have a good partner, Clyde.” You winked dramatically.
“I try, I try.” You weren’t sure, but you thought you might see a hint of color on his cheeks. 
“You know,” you mused, with a quirk of an eyebrow, “I didn't take you for a Bonnie and Clyde fan, so I’m guessing it didn’t just happen that you were listening to one of my favorite musicals.”
“It kinda did,” his mouth twisted ruefully. “I know you said to forget it, but I couldn’t stop thinkin about the other night and I,” he glanced over at you, checking to see if you were angry before continuing, “wanted to show you that you’re important to people, that we...I...care about you. So I asked Sean what some of your favorite songs and stuff were.”
You swallowed, fighting back a wave of emotion that threatened to overwhelm you. Still, when you spoke, your voice came out soft and breaking. “Oh.”
“I was gonna surprise you by learning some and then find an excuse to sing 'em for you or with you or something, but this is the only one I got so far, and it was by accident.”
“What do you mean?” Curiosity overrode everything else for the moment.
“It just gets stuck in your head man. I’ve been listening to it for days.”
You joined in his laughter. “It does doesn’t it?”
“I can’t figure it out.”
“Probably because it’s so relatable. The dressing’s complicated, but in the end it’s just about people in love, people with dreams.”
He fell quiet, considering. 
Something hung over the pair of you that you couldn’t quite find a name for, or didn’t want to maybe. It felt safe though, whatever it was, and you wanted to cling to it.
Not sure what else to say or do, you nudged the volume up and threw yourself back into the musical, hiding yourself in Bonnie Parker for a time.
~
That girl's got somethin' Nothing scares her Only piece of luck that's ever come my way
Derek was singing softly, and his hand reached out, fingers tentatively brushing against yours. It was on instinct that you turned your hand and slipped your fingers through his, lacing them together for a moment, the action just feeling right. Seconds later, your mind caught up to what your body had done and you recoiled, jerking away as if his touch had burned you. 
“I don’t know why I...I mean I wasn’t...I...sorry,” you stammered.
“Don’t be,” he replied with a half-hearted shrug. “You uh, you have soft hands.” 
Almost in a whisper, he added, “I liked it. I wanna keep holding your hand, if you want me to.”
You glanced down at his still outstretched hand, and then back up at his face. He stared resolutely ahead, eyes fixed on the road, as if that could hide the waiting tension that he practically hummed with. He’d told you, in a way, how he felt and now he was leaving it up to you. 
Hesitantly, you reached back, sliding your fingers back to where they’d been. You chewed on your lip, staring nervously at the juncture where your skin touched, mind racing. You weren’t sure what it meant, or how it would change things, and you were afraid. Derek was already important to you (you took a moment to marvel at that change, wondering when exactly it had happened). If you let the connection grow…You debated retracting your hand. At least if you pulled back, it would be your choice, for once, to lose. 
You felt a slight pressure as he squeezed your hand comfortingly and flashed you a grin. You smiled back. 
Maybe this — maybe Derek — was worth the risk.
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