Page 15 of Welcome to the Friendzone

“Should I call an ambulance?” he asked her, his heart beating rapidly while multiple scenarios played out inside his head.

“No. No. I’m fine. Just give me a minute.”

Hearing her voice and knowing that she hadn’t collapsed gave him a little bit of relief but his shoulders remained tense. Marta’s condition had changed so rapidly, from all smiling and dancing to almost collapsing within a second. Oliver didn’t understand what the hell had happened. Did she have a heart attack? A seizure? It looked more like the panic attacks Butch suffered from when he had to go to the med-bay, but why would his colleague have a panic attack while dancing to Christmas music?

“Oliver?”

Marta’s voice brought him back to reality and he realized he’d zoned out. He shook his head a little before looking into Marta’s honey-colored eyes. There was a swirling vortex within them.

“Are you okay? Can I bring you something? Water maybe? Tea? A cookie?”

Oliver had started to ramble, finally being able to do something for her now that she was looking a little better.

“Oliver! Calm down. I’m fine.”

It was now Marta’s turn to calmhimdown, making sure he didn’t run around the room like a headless chicken.

“I… Okay. But seriously, can I bring you some water?”

“Yeah. Water would be nice.”

Marta forced herself to smile at him and she could practically see the tension ease from his shoulders. Oliver jumped back into the kitchen, opened the fridge, and got her a bottle of cold water. When he returned he still had a serious frown on his face but he looked more relieved than before. Marta was sitting now and took a big sip out the bottle while Oliver watched her like a hawk.

“Better?” He asked and gave her a smile.

“Yeah, thanks.”

She saw the debate in his eyes to ask her why the hell her constitution had changed so fast but the internal battle took him way too long so Marta let out a loud sigh. She couldn’t hide her past forever.

“That song…it…reminded me of something that happened exactly a year ago,” the brunette woman started, tears filling her eyes again.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t feel comfortable. It’s okay.”

Oliver kneeled in front of the couch now, placing a hand on Marta’s thigh, and started to draw indefinable shapes on them with the tip of his thumb.

It was so tender that the cracks in Marta’s heart closed a little. The man in front of her radiated something that made her feel happy again. Made her feel like smiling, dancing, and laughing. Made her feel loved. Although he didn’t really do anything, he was just there. Smiling at her, caressing his thumb over her thigh, but it was enough.

“No, it’s okay. My therapist says I need to talk about it.”

Marta patted the spot next to her on the couch but before Oliver could actually take his place, his phone rang. He looked at it and mouthed: “It’s the guards. Bet that’s the pizza.”

He excused himself and quickly went to the main entrance to get their pizzas from the delivery man. On his way back to the kitchen he stopped off at Butch’s room and gave him his pizza, complete with its weird topping.

“Are we eating in the kitchen together?” the brunette Agent asked, not sure which answer he’d prefer to hear.

“To be honest….” Oliver started, letting out a loud sigh, “… I think it’s okay if you eat in your room. Marta and I are just chatting and babbling and I know you don’t like making small talk.”

He wasn’t comfortable telling his best friend the truth. There’d be no way Marta would open up in front of a stranger and he felt they’d finally reached a point where they felt safe and comfortable sharing their stories with each other and he was really looking forward to that, no matter how dark Marta’s would be. Butch raised an eyebrow, shrugged his shoulders, and mumbled an almost silent “okay” before closing the door in Oliver’s face.

For a second the blond Agent felt guilty for excluding Butch from dinner. He knew how much his best friend struggled to be comfortable around people and today he suggested having dinner with Marta, someone he hadn’t met that much over the last few months, but when Oliver had to decide between the well-being and comfort of his best friend or Marta he chose Marta without a second thought.

With his mind spiraling between the joy of having time alone with Marta, guilt for letting Butch stay in his room, and fear of whatever Marta was about to tell him, Oliver took his time to walk the few steps back to the kitchen. Balancing the two pizzas in one hand, he entered the room and looked around for Marta. She wasn’t on the couch where he had left her but in front of the fridge instead. He heard her mumbling something but couldn’t exactly understand what she was saying. Clearing his throat, he signaled to Marta that he was back and the brunette woman spun her head around to look at him, a shy smile on her face when she saw the large pizza boxes in his hand.

“You want a beer? We’re out of wine but I definitely need some alcohol tonight.”

“Sure. Beer and pizza sound like a great combo,” Oliver smiled while placing the pizzas on the counter of the kitchen island.

He stepped around it and stopped in front of the cabinet that held the plates. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Marta’s movement and suddenly she was standing right next to him with the two bottles in her hand.

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