Last year, I fucked six girls.

Am I proud of that?

No. No, I'm really not. I treated them like conquests, like notches in my bedpost. I went to their apartments, screwed them and then I left. No sleeping over.

But the truth is . . . My story is more complicated than that. More complicated than just fucking six random women. More complicated than my sordid expeditions into a whole world that I hadn't even realized existed before this past year.

I guess it really started last year when we had that rape-homicide that led us to the gay bar called Merch.

I don't know why I couldn't admit to myself what I am before. And more importantly what I wanted from Maura, what I wanted to give Maura. But I kept it from her, hell, I kept it from myself for my whole life. But when I did figure things out finally, I figured out that the feelings I'd been having and ignoring for so long had built up to this point. It had FINALLY hit me. I am attracted to women more than I am men. But when I figured that out, I kept it from Maura for a while. I didn't know what to do with myself. She was my best friend, of course, but I found that I stronger feelings than that for her, and I didn't know how to handle it.

I don't know why I hadn't figured it out before. Everyone else had. Hell, just that morning, when Maura and I were at yoga and they called us out to the crime scene where Katie Gainer-Randall was murdered, Frost said something about me giving an 'I hate men speech'. I wasn't lying when I said I didn't hate men. I don't. Honestly. Sex really isn't (wasn't) even that bad with them.

Shit, though. Listen to me. Sex isn't that bad? How pathetic. And really, when it comes down to it. . . I've been missing out my whole life. I'm definitely gay. Definitely into women.

I've never come so hard in my life. That first time … was incredible. A real eye opener.

But anyway, back to the story. . . back to when it all really started.

….

The day started at yoga, where Jorje was staring at me and Maura was making googly-eyes at the yoga instructor. (what a tool.) While Maura was gracefully transitioning from one pose to the next and I was struggling not to fall flat on my face, she whispered to me that Jorje couldn't stop staring at me. Which was flattering, certainly. But then we got the call about a homicide. So we bailed the yoga studio and headed that way.

We found Katie beaten and bloody on the ground outside of a building. Her car was nearby and she had an insulin pump on her belt. We also found out that she was married to a woman and that she and her wife were regulars at the gay bar Merch. According to Maura, Merch is Welsh for girl. Good to know. After we processed the crime scene and had everything photographed and bagged and tagged, and after Maura had the body sent away to the morgue for her to process later, we headed back to the station. Once we were there and down in the morgue, she gave me that look. You know the one . . . it's that look that says: You're doing this whether you like or not. And she basically forced me into the double date with Jorje and the tool yoga instructor. What was I supposed to do? She was wearing those damned black scrubs that she looks so hot in. Not that I noticed. Ahem.

Anyway, so we end up going on the date.

Now don't get me wrong, Jorje was cute. And I was trying to have a good time. I told all of them about my first week on the job when I had to tackle that naked man. It was a funny story, I thought, but I didn't get much laughter out of Jorje. He was just staring at me the whole time with a puppy-dog look on his face. It was super awkward.

And then when the tool yoga instructor was kissing Maura right there in front of God and everybody, I didn't understand what that feeling was that roared its ugly head inside of me. But I sure understand now. It was Jealousy. Oh, that green-eyed monster. I realized later that I wanted to bury my own face in Maura's neck, smell her perfume up close and personal, taste her skin, while simultaneously punching tool yoga instructor in the throat. And then Maura asked, well told me I guess, to go with her to the restroom. She turned around when we were almost to the bathroom and our faces almost hit each other. We were standing so close together, my heart was pounding, but I attributed that to the wine and to the surprise of her turning around so quickly.

I told Maura he was sexy, and she told me to take him home. Really?! But I quickly forgot about Jorje when Maura started talking about the release of Immunoglobulin A or something after sex that wards off colds. I caught myself staring at her lips and didn't know why I was doing it. Her googlemouth was so much sexier than Jorje could ever be. I tried my damndest to get out of it, to avoid taking Jorje home, but the woman pulled a shaving kit for my legs out of her purse and I was forced. Well, sort of. I guess maybe I just had sexual frustrations that needed to be taken out on somebody.

At my apartment later, the idiot opened his mouth, not as nice as a googlemouth by any stretch of the imagination, he started talking about being a male nurse and kids and being a stay-at-home daddy, and I was like …. Whoa. No. No No No.

I mean, the guy should be perfect for me. I'm a strong woman, he's looking for a strong woman. But holy shit, he was just too weird! What the hell was Maura thinking? Nurse Jorje. Holy shit.

The next day, I saw Maura on the steps and she asked me how it went. I proceeded to tell her that he was freakin' weird and how dare she set me up with a male nurse who is way too sensitive for his own good. She laughed a little bit because she knew beforehand that he was a weirdo. She just wanted me to finally take someone to bed. Which is nice of her, yes, but I wanted to take HER to bed. Not Jorje.

So a little bit later, I'm interrogating the bouncer from the club, because he lied about his background and he looked suspicious for the murder. But then Maura interrupted the interrogation and produced lunch from Jorje. I wanted to slap her. Or push her against the wall and kiss her. Or something. Instead, I rolled my eyes and started to go back into the interrogation room. She brought me back though when she told me about the DNA on the murder weapon. A woman, it turns out, killed our victim. Huh.

Then we're back down in the morgue and we start talking about 'non-biological phallus shaped objects'. Shit. Dildos. And she opened up her googlemouth again and I caught myself staring at her mouth. Those lips. Okay, eyes back up. Make a joke.

I managed to splutter out something about ice-age women making sparks. And . . . Not funny. Maybe next time.

And the crime is personal now because we weren't expecting the killer/rapist to also be a female. And when females rape other females with 'non-biological phallus shaped objects', you know they have some serious problems with one another. Alrighty, things are heating up.

So now we're back upstairs and I'm trying to make it clear that I DO NOT WANT JORJE, cause he creeps me out and he keeps calling and sending flowers. I won't let the chocolate go to waste though. And then Maura said some crap about how Jorje will eventually stop calling when he gets to know the other side of me. I looked at her with a questioning expression and she fumbled around for a bit about some bullshit trying to cover up what she just said, but luckily for her Frost saved the day with news that our vic was on several dating websites.

I was mad at her for saying that about me cause I don't have a bad side, do I? But we've got more important things to worry about. Like finding out that our vic was cheating on her wife, whose alibi is solid by the way.

And Frost stared at the screen for a while, stood up and said, 'Hey Korsak, they uh… kinda resemble each other don't they?' He inclined his head at the screen, indicating the vic's photograph. 'Jane and the victim.' I looked to Korsak and he looked to the screen and I looked to the screen and we both looked at each other. He turned to me and said slowly, a sly grin at the corners of his mouth. 'You're right. It'd be a shame to waste an opportunity like that.'

I know what they're playing at, and I'm NOT about to go undercover in a lesbian bar. I am not a lesbian. (well, I didn't really know I was at that point, anyway)
'No way,' I said, shaking my head. So blah blah blah, long story short. I end up getting swindled into it and it's been decided that I'm going to try and attract the same kinds of ladies that our vic did. See if we can't find our murderer.

Later at my apartment, Maura came over. Why did she come over, you ask? Well . . I don't know. We're best friends, and we always spend time together. And we like to have wine and talk about things and sit close to one another on the couch. And, hey, I don't have to explain myself to you!

So anyway, I said something about Jorje being more submissive than my dog, and Maura plopped herself right down on my bed with her perfect designer dress and her glass of wine and started to pet Joe Friday. I sat back on my pillows and crossed my boot-clad feet on the bed with my own wine and said, 'Maybe I should be a lesbian.'

I didn't think anything of it then, not really, I was just saying . . . you know. It would be better than dealing with creeps like Jorje, right? But then Maura said, 'Well, wishes can come true. . .' And I guess I didn't register my heart leaping into my throat at the thought of us being lesbians together. My heart went back to its original place, though, when she told me Korsak wanted to make me a butch on my profile. I was a little offended at first, but if I had really sat and thought about it, though, I would definitely be the butch to Maura's femme. Definitely.

I said incredulously, 'You put my photo and information on a gay dating website?'

'It's your best shot at getting DNA from the rape on this case,' Maura said as she grabbed her laptop and brought it over to 'her' side of the bed.

I shook my head. 'No, no. It's OUR best shot. You're going with me,' and I pointed my finger at her. She says no and I say yes, that I don't have time to train a female detective on how to collect and preserve DNA. I honestly didn't know why she was arguing with me. Who else would I take along with me to a lesbian bar? And after that she didn't have any more arguments. She must have really wanted to go.

So then Maura proceeded to show me my profile and all the women who think I'm hot. I'm actually a little flattered at this point. A little freaked out also, because any of these people could be Katie's killer. Also a little turned on for the chick who has front row seats to the Celtics. I am ALL over that.

As I snuggled a little further into my comforter and pillows, relaxing from the long day, Maura set her laptop aside and settled in next to me.

'I wonder what kind of women we would like if we liked women,' she wondered aloud in her 'innocently cute' voice as she fluffed the pillow behind her head.

I frowned as I glanced over at her and said, 'What? Well, first of all, I would be the guy.'

'What?' Maura asked, surprised. 'Now that's a cliché. Why would you be the guy?'

'Because,' I said, staring at her like it's the most obvious thing in the world and it needed no further explanation.

She nodded slightly, understanding. 'Because you're bossy?'

I glared at her. 'So are you.'

'No, I'm not,' she said, glaring back at me.

'Yes, you are. You're just soft and polite when you're bossing people around.'

Maura turned away, leaning back on the pillow. 'Well, it's a good thing you're not my type,' she said with a small smile.

'What do you mean I'm not your type,' I said, a little offended. 'That is so rude.'

She was laughing as she looked back at me, and I knew then that she was joking. She kept up the ruse, though, and held up one finger. 'Well,' she said. 'You don't know how to relax.'

I looked down at myself. At my perfectly relaxed and reclined body, but she pointed at me and went on. 'You wear your clothes and your shoes to bed and you just admitted you're bossy.'

I shifted and turned over, laying on my side now so that I could face her. 'I'm bossy. Hmm. You just put my picture up on a gay dating website and I'm bossy. Right.'

Looking over at her, she was beginning to close her eyes and get more comfortable. I wondered who would be the one to turn out the light. I decided to add another jab in there. 'After I said no, by the way.'

She ignored me though and closed her eyes. But I knew she wasn't asleep. 'What are you doing?' I asked her.

'Meditating,' she said quietly. 'It's too stressful to argue with you.'

I smiled and couldn't help myself. It was just too easy to flirt with her. 'Well, this time tomorrow, thanks to you, I could be on a date with a killer.'

. . . .

The next morning, the sun was shining brightly on my face as I opened my eyes. Joe was barking like a crazy dog and definitely wanted to be let out for her morning pee. I looked over at Maura. Wait, Maura? She was supposed to go home. She was awake as well, and I asked what she was doing here. Replying that she must've fallen asleep while she was meditating, she reached over and grabbed her laptop, ready to check up on the gay dating website.

I didn't have many emails from the lesbians, though. They were all from Jorje. Jorje. Jorje. Ugh.

'Maybe he's what you need. He's loving and supportive,' Maura said, smiling at me. I should've realized then that I see her that way. Loving and supportive and so much more than Jorje can ever be.

'Of course, the perfect guy turns out to be just an average woman,' I said. Once again, I had a woman right there all along who was much more than average. Much more than the perfect guy.

'But if I wanted someone to walk the dog with me and talk about my feelings, I'd be gay.'

Maura was up, going through my wardrobe, looking through my clothes when she turned around and looked at me.

'You're not going to say that to him are you?'

'I will if you don't. You got me into this, so you get me out of it.'

Then, as she's rummaging through my clothes, Maura makes some comment about understanding now why I always look like that. What?! I stare at her like she's crazy, but she's completely serious. She told me it's because I have NOTHING to wear. Now that's just not true. My closet is full of shirts and slacks. Plenty of stuff to wear. Perfect for a gay bar.

… . . . . .

So we're at Merch finally, a little before happy hour, and the bartender hit on me. It must've been the abs that caught her attention as I lifted up my shirt to attach my wire. I told her I'd give her a call if the need to switch teams and go on an adventure ever hit me. I was joking, of course. But I didn't realize that I'd soon be doing just that. . .

I hadn't seen Maura yet as I made my way through the room towards the bar. But then I did see her. And she looked . . . um . . . pretty freakin' incredible with that tiny little black polka dotted strapless dress that showed off her curves in all the right places. I tried to play it cool, but it was tough. She told me my table was ready and whisked away carrying a tray like she'd been waitressing her entire life.

The first girl I was on a 'date' with was a little crazy. She told me her coming out story and then asked how I did it. I hadn't really thought about my backstory, oops. But as I was stumbling over my words, trying to make something up on the fly, I felt a presence beside me. I could smell her too. Maura's perfume, expensive yet subtle. Makes me shiver thinking back on it.

'Can I get you ladies something to drink?' she asked sweetly.

And as I turned to my right, I got basically an eyeful of the most curvaceous, supple breasts I've ever had the pleasure of being up close and personal with. That was probably the closest I'd ever been to another woman's breasts, actually, so I was a little shocked. I just couldn't tear my eyes away.

Finally, though, I felt Maura looking at me, and I dragged my eyes up to meet hers. I looked back at my date and shook my head, trying to clear the fog that had invaded my brain. 'No, no. We're good.'

Maura took my date's glass and whisked it off behind the bar and bagged it out of sight to be tested. The next girl was a bit pushier than the previous one, saying something about always falling for girls like me.

'Like what?' I asked, actually curious as to how she saw me.

She smiled. 'Smart, tough,' and then she placed her hand on top of mine. 'Complicated,' she finished. And she was nice, sure, if a little forward. But NO ONE touches my hands. Except Maura. They're very sensitive, you see. The scars are just . . . nevermind. So she made me very uncomfortable by touching my hands.

But this girl actually looked excited. 'You're gonna break my heart,' she said grinning madly. On to the next one.

I finally got to Claire, the girl who was the last person probably to see Katie alive the night she was killed. Claire talked about how she and Katie really hit it off, that she really liked her. But then she saw the ring. And Claire doesn't date married women. Claire then says that maybe Katie would still be alive if she hadn't lied about being married. Ominous statement.

. . . . .

The next day at the station, Maura gave me the news that none of the DNA samples from the bar matched the blood from the two-by-four. Not good.

Frost shows up next with a file that has information about several million dollars going to the grieving widow, Mel, when Katie died. The widow now has motive, but she's got an airtight alibi. As I stirred my sugar into my coffee, Maura watched me for a bit and then mentioned that Katie was meticulous about testing her glucose levels. That it didn't make sense for her level to be so high when she had so many finger pricks as evidence that she was very careful. So Frost and I hypothesized that perhaps something was put into her system via the insulin pump that couldn't be traced. And if so, there would have to be finger prints on the pump.

Unfortunately, there were not prints on the pump. Wait, we thought, Katie's prints at least should be on there. But nope, it's completely wiped clean.

Accomplice.

I was struck by an idea. A damn good one too. You know, as usual.

So I made my way back to Merch in the middle of the day to talk to the bartender. She played right into my hands. What a sucker. I saw her lifting boxes when I first walked in with those special gloves that just so happened to match the deer-skin fibers we found at the crime scene. I went in for the kill pretty soon after that. You see, I knew she was into me. It wouldn't take much for her to give it up. I could feel it. How I had this innate sense of intuition about this woman, I have no idea. Must be a gay thing. I don't know. So I walked around the bar and reminded her that she said to let her know if I was ever feeling adventurous. She raised an eyebrow at me and smiled crookedly. Oh this was too easy.

'Yeah?' she asked, rather innocently. I nodded, smiling back at her. I moved my head a bit to the side as she leaned in to me and placed a soft kiss to my neck. Chills ran up and down my back and arms as I pictured a different honey blonde woman pressing her lips to my heated skin. I left her then. Wet and wanting, I'm sure, and headed back to the station. That was really my second step in the transition to full-blown lesbian. The first one was the boobs in my face, remember?

I got back down to the morgue and swept my hair out of the way, putting my neck on display for Maura. I asked her to swab it for DNA and she stared at me for a brief second. Out of jealousy, perhaps? And then she told me she's not even going to ask why. Probably for the best. I don't want to make things tough for her, you know, since there was no way she was serious about me not being her type.

So we brought the bartender in a little bit later and I let her know that there was a bus heading her way. It was her choice whether or not she wanted to be on it or under it. She chose the former option and agreed to set up her accomplice, AKA the grieving widow.

….

Back at Merch, I hid in the back room while Mel was talking with the bartender. This girl played her part beautifully, prodding responses left and right out of her cheating married lover. She tricked Mel into spilling her guts about the whole shebang. Pointedly, the pump was filled with fentanyl (a potent synthetic, powerful, analgesic – or so Maura told me later). She mixed that shit with water and made it untraceable. So then Mel tried to console her lover about getting the money in 90 days, there's nothing to worry about. But wait, what about fingerprints? A worried look crossed Mel's face and she said, 'You left prints?'

'No, there were no prints. It's suspicious.'

Another worried and now slightly confused looked crossed Mel's face.

'Wait, how do you know that?'

Busted. I walked out and arrested the bitch. Case closed.

But first I reach over to the bartender and take off her wire. 'This is as adventurous as I get.'

The thing about that is, though, that it's a flat out lie.

….

That night, I couldn't take it anymore. My curiosity was killing me and I had to find out more about these feelings I was having. Maura was at home, maybe with yoga instructor dude, I'm not sure. I tried not to think about that too much. But I was all by myself, itching for something. I had an itch that needed to be scratched, so I got dressed up in a nice pair of jeans and a loose white v-neck and looked in the mirror. I wasn't sure what lesbians were supposed to look like nowadays, but I figured I was close enough. I knew of a lesbian bar (not Merch) a few blocks away from my apartment, so I took off walking in that general direction.

The bouncer for this bar was another big muscular dude who looked like he had some military experience. I wouldn't have picked a fight with him, that's for sure. He let me in and I stepped inside the darkened bar, my second experience in a place like this. Well, my first REAL experience, the last one didn't count.

I made my way over to the bar and sat down on the one of the stools, my back facing the side wall so that I could see everything in front of me. The bar was pretty crowded, I noticed, as I looked around and took everything in.

There were women everywhere, all different kinds. And I didn't know what the hell I was doing there. Shit, I thought to myself. What am I doing here?

I didn't know the first thing about dating women, much less trying to flirt with women in a gay bar! I was having a mild panic attack and thinking about getting the hell out of there before I could embarrass myself any further, when a voice came at me from behind the bar. It was low and a little sultry, kinda like my own voice, without the rasp.

'What can I get you to drink, gorgeous?' I turned my head and looked at her. She was blonde with shoulder length hair and a low cut blouse that showed off her impressive rack. Pretty hot. And almost as nice as Maura's. Almost.

'A beer, please,' I said, because I didn't know what else to order, and I was a little speechless at this woman. She was confident and flirtatious and she somehow seemed so . . . I don't know . . . gay, I guess.

'Any particular kind, or would you like me to surprise you?' she asked with a smile.

Ah, I thought. It's like when I talk and banter with Maura. Easy. I can do this.

'I like surprises,' I said, grinning crookedly at her, looking straight into her amazing blue eyes.

So anyway, after a few more beers and a few conversations with several other women, and after a couple of glasses of Jack and Coke, I was feeling pretty good. And it was either the alcohol giving me courage and confidence, or the blonde bartender was actually making eyes at me for the better part of an hour while I spoke with the other women. I don't know which, but either way, I ended up going home with her.

Yep. She was my first.

And just so you know, I don't normally do things like that. I'm a detective for crying out loud! It's always been important for me to know a little bit about the people I'm sleeping with. I can't exactly go around having sex with all kinds of criminals, now can I?

But that night was an exception to my rule.

And if it makes you feel any better, I didn't take her back to my place. No, no. That wouldn't have been right. Why? Well . . . because.

Maura has slept in my bed. And Maura will sleep in my bed in the future. I can't take another woman to my apartment to sleep in the bed that Maura will be sleeping in. I know that sounds crazy, but I don't care. I was a little buzzed and a lot sexually frustrated and a lot curious about this blonde bartender woman.

And she didn't even care that it was my first time. I think she really enjoyed taking my lesbian virginity, or so it seemed. At least, she acted like she enjoyed herself. Not to brag or anything, but I did make her come three times. And she told me, too, that I was pretty good for a first-timer. So, there's that. And there's also the fact that I've never come so hard in my life. It was pretty incredible.

So that's what I've been missing all these years! But I knew I couldn't make too serious a habit of sleeping with women now. I wasn't ready for that. I was still figuring things out. Figuring myself out.

But, shit happens. You know how it is. . . And it happened five more times with different women throughout that year, but I realized soon enough, mainly through a series of wet dreams featuring yours truly and the one and only Dr. Isles in some pretty compromising positions, that these women were just stand-ins for the real thing. For Maura.