Every Now and Then

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One: Yesterday Once More

She had been thinking about it for far too long, far too often.

She could still remember it as if it just happened twenty seconds ago. The scene was engraved in her head – a victim's name on a polished rock, erected in her memory like a monument. Shaking it off or forgetting about it would be ideal but the sound of the bullet haunted her during the darkest hours. To forget: sounds good. To forget: she wished she could. They say that time heals everything; but she's still waiting.

She took a step to the right as she reached over and grabbed a white, elongated, porcelain mug. All the other mugs were the same, but this one…this one was her favourite. The one that just magically caught her attention on her first day here – the one that had a small little crack on its edge.

In her profession, she had taken the lives of a few, yet every single time, she would feel the blood drain from her body. Feeling as if she was hung by her ankles and slit at the throat while the red plasma pooled out of her, every time she watched a body drop to the floor, pierced by her own bullet. She had taken something from Him, something He created. Did she have a right to do that? Was or is it really 'just part of the job'?

She thought long and hard but she honestly could not answer her own question - she didn't know. That night, was she trusting her guts or was she trying to protect Danny, Lindsay and herself? Perhaps it was her gut feeling but then again, as a forensic scientist – guts are messy and she didn't like messy. The replay of that night scared her immensely as she remembered coming home, shaking violently in her hot shower. But it had been nearly three weeks now and she'd come to the conclusion that maybe she did do what was right, messy and all – protecting her coworkers. Protecting herself.

Opening the cupboard, she reached in to grab a bag of tea. She carefully examined the selections that were neatly placed before her eyes. The arrangement of tea boxes and coffees, so meticulously tidy, were organized alphabetically from left to right. It was obviously his doing and the faintest smile appeared on her face when she thought of how he would always replace the chamomile tea, as he knew it was her favorite. But as she reached for the box, its weight caused her to frown. Empty.

She paused before seeking out a different tea bag, lost in thought. Today, she'd almost had to live through it again. The grey haired, middle-aged man simply would not drop his weapon and would not comply with her orders. She was prepared and eyed her target in the chest. She was about to pull the trigger but then in a fraction of a second, he obeyed and the next thing she saw were his hands in the air. She remembered releasing a breath of relief, as she did not want to send him to the undiscovered country too.

Maybe it was just the nature of her profession, that she was expected to 'just put it behind her'. She couldn't help but think: did the others feel the same way when they fired a shot that ends a life? Was it only her empathetic ways that let the death tear her apart? Or was everyone else just keeping it inside of them, as it was mandatory they should see things objectively? All these questions remained unanswered and would remain so, she knew.

The treacherous 'what if' scenarios were playing in her head - what would happen if her name was plastered on the front page of the New York Times? Detective Murders Unarmed Man. The public would go after her with equal force as they had with Kevin Hopkins. He had asked how she was after what happened that night, but she agonized over her response, in the end providing him a dishonest answer. She really thought that her generic response would suffice but as the night turned into day, day turned into night and all over again, she wished he would ask her just once more. She would give him a different answer, tell him how she really felt about the whole situation. But she couldn't bring herself to bring it up – perhaps if she did, he would perceive it as an annoyance or irritation; therefore she decided just to keep it to herself.

She heard the elevator door chime as it signaled the arrival of one of her coworkers, or perhaps a potential visitor. As the metal doors separated, she heard the faintest sound of giggling and small talk from not one female voice but two. "Mac, lo…." She heard a familiar voice call out but was unable to hear the next few words that followed. It took her less than a second to figure out that the sweet voice belonged to Lindsay.

From the staff lounge, she continued to stand still by the counter with her mug as she placed the opened teabag into its depths. She leaned slightly inwards as she put the mug under the hot water spout, watching the steaming liquid descend into the emptiness as she pressed the button and continued to pick up broken words of their banter.

"Hey, Mac…" She heard Lindsay call out again and saw her wave him out of his office. She listened a little more attentively this time. Despite the unethical nature of eavesdropping, she couldn't help but allow her ears to collect what information they could from down the hall. She saw him walk out of his office but his emergence was not the one that immediately caught her attention. She briefly saw the figure topped with shoulder length blonde hair and without a second thought, she knew who it was.

"Christine, what….here?" She heard his broken question as he approached the blonde woman with the gentlest stride she had ever seen from him. The name rang through her ears and suddenly, the air around her become harder to inhale and excruciatingly painful to exhale.

The conversation came to a diminuendo and she could no longer hear anything. She turned her body slightly at an angle where she could see their mouths. From her slight experience in lip-reading, she could faintly make out that Christine had said, "we bumped into each other at…." as the blonde woman nodded towards Lindsay, which was followed by a slight wave of her left hand and, "…. she saw…". She focused her eyes slightly and between their gestures, movements and smiles, she could make out that Christine had added, "her idea".

Looping her arms through his, she saw her leaning in closer to him, whispering something in his ear. She watched him smile lightly at her words and saw him nod softly. What did she say to him? Why did such a small gesture cause such a wide smile to appear on Lindsay's face?

She watched the entire scene unfold as she gave her steaming tea a slow stir with the silver spoon. Everything, from the sly grin that plastered Lindsay's face to the petite woman signaling for her husband to come join her. Turning her head slightly, she saw Danny walking down the corridor with a manila file in hand and furrowed brows framing his face.

"What's up with the party over here?" She heard him say rather clearly as his voice echoed through the quiet place.

"Wait, hold on! Where's Jo?" Lindsay was calling her name and the sound of it caused her to pause. For the past three weeks, all she heard was her name around the crime lab. It was always others asking Mac about her. How's Christine? How is she dealing with it now? Will Christine be visiting us soon? Everything from endearing questions of concern to supportive, sympathetic statements. It appeared, for the past three weeks, as if her own name had faded, wiped from their system. The only time she would hear it was when they needed something – advice, confirmation, a signature.

She saw the petite woman looking around the lab for her whereabouts. Automatically, her attention darted back to her tea, as she did not want to appear suspicious or even nosy. She would pretend that she knew nothing – knew nothing about Christine coming in, knew nothing about the accelerated volume down the hall, knew nothing about their conversations.

"Jo! Hey! There you are!"

"Hey, how's mama doing?" She asked with a smile plastered on her face as she stole a quick glance at how the slim fitting blouse hugged her slight bump.

"This little one is craving peanut butter but…."

"Lindsay, is it twins?" She cut her off suddenly without thinking twice about it. She knew she had news to share and she also knew it had nothing to do with her pregnancy.

"Oh no, no. Just one. I'm pretty sure… Listen, Jo."

"Got something good to share with me?" She said again, cutting her coworker off once more.

"Oh no, Jo- not me, but they do. Come!"

As Lindsay turned around to walk out of the lounge, her focus darted towards the forming crowd outside his office, which was slowly making its way down the corridor and into the conference room. She absentmindedly placed the mug down on the counter as she stared at the couple down the corridor. And with each step she took behind Lindsay, her smile got forcibly bigger, a little wider, and a little brighter. As she moved towards the forming crowd she asked, "Whoa, what did I miss?"

"Hey, what's going on?" she heard Adam ask as he approached her from behind.

She had her hands openly tucked into the tight pockets of her jeans as she turned to answer, "Hey! I have no idea. Let's see." Through her white, gritted, porcelain teeth, she was lying. Undoubtedly, she knew very well what was happening.

She looked at him carefully. He was clean-shaven with a dark, navy blue suit and his signature American flag pin. Nothing out of the ordinary but something made her look at him again just for a little longer. She noticed him eying the crowd around him; the crowd of coworkers – his friends, his family and the one he loves. With an intake of breath he began, "Alright, well since everybody is gathered."

A slight pause followed shortly afterwards as he looked at the eager, excited faces around him once more. She saw how he brought his hands together and how he rubbed his knuckles. "Wow, I never imagined this is how I would break the news."

His next gesture made her ache as her speculations were confirmed. She saw him take hold of her hand as he laced his fingers through hers. She bit the inside of her lip as she watched how he pulled her closer to him until their shoulders gently touched. He smiled widely as did the young, beautiful, blonde woman beside him. He announced confidently, "Well, I would like to say that Christine and I are engaged."

In a matter of seconds, the sound of thundering applause, laughter and cheering erupted and echoed within the glass impounds. She watched as the couple opened their arms and embraced the seemingly smiling faces.

"Congratulations, boss!" She heard Adam call out as he pulled the technician in for an embrace. "That is one huge rock…." She heard again and smiled slightly at how his eyes widened.

"Well, I didn't exactly propose with a ring." He chuckled softly. He paused and then continued quickly afterwards, "I bought one just a few days ago. Lindsay's a great detective. You can all thank her for this surprise announcement!" He quipped as she saw him turn towards his fiancée with a smile.

As the days rolled onwards after his confession of love, she had learned to slowly digest their relationship and perhaps even learned to accept it. She thought she was getting good at it thinking, it hurts a little less today than it did yesterday and the day before. She wanted to be 'okay' with it and her goal was to feel nothing but happiness towards it. But when she heard those vulgar words escape from his lips, the pain was back to its original intensity as if she learned nothing. But suddenly, in her own little way, she quietly joined in the sonic boom of celebration.

She approached him carefully and through her lips, she trembled out his name, "Mac…" followed by a short intake of breath. She had learned the art of the pause- the silence in between that is so mysterious that to some, it may be haunting. Yes, she had learned the art of the pause where in between the exchange of information, she had time to collect her emotions. It was the miniscule second where she had the chance to push aside her own feelings to display another.

But as she stood there and allowed his words to invade her system, she had mastered the art of the pause. She stood still with glistening eyes where she tried her best to swallow the choking, tight pocket of air that formed in her throat. She drew in a breath, a breath of courage that collected every false impression of happiness. She forced her body to convey the signature smile, the excitement, the sudden shake of clenched fists in the air as she exclaimed, "I'm so happy for you. Congratulations!"

And of course, the upheaval of her arms to wrap around him would make the show appear seamless, as she added, "Wow, you're getting married. That's fantastic!"

She felt his own arms wrap around her as he pulled her close to him. The distance between them was now closed and instead of wishing she could stay like this forever, she felt something foreign. The embrace was not as inviting or welcoming as they had been before. It lacked something she could not explain. It was as if it was just two bodies coming together, touching and nothing more. She sighed brokenly and the faintest frown appeared on her face. She heard him say softly and excitedly in her ear, "Thank you. I can't believe it either – I'm getting married!" as he pulled away.

Her eyes inevitably looked into his but she forced herself to quickly look away to save herself. As he moved away to the right of her, she opened up her arms to embrace the slim, blonde woman in front of her. Christine's scent automatically invaded her; fresh with a hint of citrus. She had to suppress her feelings and choke them down to put on a jovial façade. Her embrace could not give away that she was haunted by some pathetic feeling of childish envy. She exclaimed excitedly but not mockingly, "Christine, congratulations! Have fun dealing with him!"

She heard Christine chuckle slightly and she felt her give a gentle squeeze as she said, "Thank you, Jo and I'm sure I will!"

"Well, Christine and I would like to thank you all for supporting us in this next chapter of our lives. But, I'm sure you all have something you need to do around here so, get to it!" She heard him say as he waved his hand in the air.

The crowd left the conference room with grins, smiling faces and excited laughter. She bit the inside of her lip and she tried to relax the tight pressure building up in her chest. She was the last one to set foot out of his office and before she closed his door from behind, she heard him ask, "Lunch?" She took the silence as an obvious reply of agreement. She could not see the scene that was unfolding behind her but she imagined what was happening. A warm embrace? Did he take her chin between his thumb and his index finger to kiss her lightly? Or maybe he tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear while she smiled in delight at the sensation of his fingers brushing against her skin? She'd always wanted that…

Step by step, one foot in front of the other, she made her way back to the lounge where the white, porcelain mug was the only thing waiting for her. Here she was - standing in the room with her cup of mundane, black tea in hand. She commenced a slow stir with the silver spoon as she stared at the mellow brown liquid. Stop, stop all of this, she thought. Bringing the concoction to her lips, she took a large sip and instead of swallowing, she held the liquid in her mouth. She cringed slightly as the taste of surplus bitterness invaded her. She choked it down, feeling the incredibly sharp, pungent tang run down her tongue and into the confines of her throat.

A:N/ Hey everyone! Haven't been writing in a while – hope you don't mind my absence! But, I'm back! This piece is a continuation of "Quarter to Three" but if you didn't read that, this story will still (hopefully) make sense. I have an idea of where I want this story to go but I have no idea how to get there! I update rather slowly also so please bare with me throughout this writing journey!

And much, much, MUCH thanks to UrbanMuse and her incredible editing skills – they are second to none! Thank you kindly for taking your time to do this! You are a gem!

As always, please give me some feedback to tell me any suggestions, comments and concerns. Every review makes me smile! Have a good one! Much love.