A/N: Wow – This is about as contrary to my usual style of writing as could possibly exist, so it was truly a challenge. Extremely stressful and yet oddly fulfilling at the same time! Thanks to Madison Bellows for posting the challenge; and thanks to Smuffly for participating, because it was my reading her wonderful contribution ("The Rhythm of Life") that made me decide to do it myself. And thanks to Quille for her somewhat doubtful encouragement ;P I had to do this in two sessions, rather than one, as I started way too late last night and didn't make it through all 10 songs before my head began nodding and my eyes closing. Hope that's ok!
I'm a pretty fast typist, but gosh, did I make some crazy mistakes trying to get all this down within the length of the song. So I did go back and edit, though I forced myself to limit the edits to typos (of which there were embarrassingly many!) and obvious punctuation and grammatical errors. Some of the stories I feel good about; others not so much. But that's life I suppose. Hope you enjoy at least some of them in any case.
Finally, an FYI: Probably half of these ideas stem from episodes in the 9th season, as that's the one freshest in my mind. I apologize, as I know many of you haven't seen Season 9 yet. But in the end, given the rather fleeting nature of these ficlets, I'm not sure it's really necessary to have seen the episodes to be able to relate to the emotions expressed in the stories.
Enjoy.
Moments in Measured Time
1) "Mad World" - Gary Jules
Jo Danville walked towards the railing surrounding the roof, staring out across the New York City skyline. But her mind was elsewhere. More precisely, on Sid. On the news he had just shared with her. That she'd sworn to keep secret, until he was ready to reveal it himself.
Now, perhaps she regretted that decision. The burden weighed heavily on her heart. A mere 20 minutes after he'd just told her. A mere 10 minutes after she'd taken her leave of the morgue. She couldn't imagine the Lab without him. Wouldn't let herself imagine it. But it kept infiltrating her every thought. She gripped the railing hard, steeling herself against the pressure building behind her eyes, closing them in response.
"Jo? Is everything ok?"
She jumped. How long had she been here? And without looking at him she raised her arms slowly upwards to indicate the city beyond, furtively swiping her sleeves across her cheeks as she did so.
"You know, every once in a while…don't you just feel the need to come up here and take it all in?"
He came to stand next to her. "Well…" Was the only response.
She chuckled. "Ah, you're just jaded. Been here too long."
She sighed, still not looking at him. "Give it a try; does wonders for your psyche." And she slowly lowered her arms, turning and walking towards the door, leaving him.
Mac paused. Glancing at the view. It was terribly overcast. Almost foggy. He could barely see past two blocks. Glancing down, he noticed the railing, wet…with her tears. And he frowned.
2) "Maxwell's Silver Hammer" – The Beatles
Jo exited the elevator and ducked under the yellow police tape to enter apartment 16 D. She saw Flack at the end of the hall, a bemused look on his face, and continued in his direction. Once she reached him, he held a hand out, forcing her to pause. She looked at him expectantly.
He spoke. "Prepare yourself. I've never seen anything like this…"
She frowned. "What…."
Flack shook his head. "You gotta look for yourself…"
She turned, entering the darkened bedroom. And stopped short. Adam was there already, frozen in the center of the room, his expression one of awe as he glanced around him. She followed suit. And her mouth slowly gaped open at the sight. Beginning with a trip wire at the door, the room was overtaken by a trail of more than a hundred objects including, the most notable, a sewing machine, a teapot on an electric burner, a garter belt, an electric toothbrush, and a measuring cup with a watering can balanced over head, all connected one way or the other via several feet of string and wire, and all ending…in a mess on the floor.
She glanced down at the body, Sheldon crouched over it. A young boy, slightly older than Ellie. His head bloodied. And a shiny silver hammer still sticking out of the wound, attached to a wire. Attached to the watering can. Attached to…well, etc, etc.
She looked warily at Flack, who shrugged.
"Maxwell Short. High school senior. First Place, Science Project. Rube Goldberg…'contraption'. Ostensibly a security system. You know, knock out any burglars that enter. Instead, caught himself, unawares. I can see why he won first place… Pity…kinda ingenious if ya ask me. But whadda I know? How 'bout you? What do you think?"
Jo frowned. "I'm glad Tyler went into business and not science…."
3) "Words" - Train
Jo stared after Mac as he turned and walked away from her. She would not let his words drag her down. No, not her. She was strong. She was intelligent. She was resilient. And most importantly, she was compassionate. She wouldn't change for him. She swallowed down the hurt and pain and self-doubt that had begun to rise up in her with his words. "Watch out where you stick your nose. Keep out of my personal business…"
She stood stock still. Her face a mask of strength. Once he got in the Avalanche and drove away, she turned. Head held high. And walked back to the crime scene. To Danny and Sheldon. Confident that she would forge on ahead. With no one the wiser as to the feelings of inadequacy inside her. At least for now. Until she returned home tonight. And she could let them out. Alone. Without fear that anyone would think the lesser of her for having them. But tomorrow… She would bounce back, as she always had. They were only words…
4) "Oh, Freedom" – Princely Players
Jo moved slowly into the church, her eyes focused forwards, avoiding the few sideways glances, raised eyebrows, she received as she entered and took a place in the back pew.
Mac had counseled against her coming. She'd agreed he was probably right. But she hadn't actually said she wouldn't make an appearance anyway.
A portly woman next to her smiled slightly and handed her a program, open to the gospel number that the choir was singing at the moment. Jo nodded her thanks and, taking the photocopies sheet, nodded her thanks. Humming in accompaniment to the tune she remembered as a child.
She allowed her gaze to wander. Across the field of Sunday-finest hats, vibrantly colored dresses, somber suits. The expressions of sadness and, yes, joy, that she noted on the faces of the attendees. Far in the front, she could see the family of Keith Lewis. She frowned, thinking that it had been at her hand, that their son, their brother, their father, their friend, had been taken from this world.
The song ended. And a body slid into the pew next to her. She glanced over. Mac. Their eyes met, but no words needed to be spoken. There was a rustle as everyone sat down. And Jo leaned over to whisper.
"I'm sorry. I know you basically said not to come."
He smiled softly. "I said I didn't think it was a good idea." He paused. "But did it help?"
She didn't hesitate in responding. "Yes, it did."
He nodded. "Then…I was wrong."
They smiled solemnly at each other. And turned their attention to the service.
5) "On the Sunny Side of the Street" - Earl "Fatha" Hines
Jo stood on the mezzanine of the Lab and watched, unbeknownst to anyone below.
She caught a glimpse of Adam, exiting the A/V Lab and racing around the corner towards Mac's office, a huge stack of documents and files in hand. He turned the corner too short, nearly careening into an 8 month pregnant Lindsay, and dropped everything. Lindsay, all smiles, did her best to bend down and help him pick the mess up, Adam muttering apologies the whole time while Lindsay just giggled.
Jo turned her gaze to the left, watching as Danny exited the elevator, gesticulating madly as he tried to explain something to Flack, who was jamming the last half of a slice into his mouth. They both paused on seeing Lindsay and Adam crawling awkwardly around on the floor amidst a sea of papers. And burst into laughter, as they stooped to help pick them up.
Her eye caught Sid and Sheldon as they walked up the steps from autopsy. Sid opened his mouth to say something; Sheldon raised his hand and politely shook his head. They both smiled and, and after casting cock-eyed glances at the group on the floor, bent down and joined in as well.
She stifled a smile as Mac came out of his office and stood in his doorway, arms crossed, surveying the chaos, a solemn look on his face as he watched over his team, which at the moment resembled a milling colony of…ants. But even from a distance, she could see his amusement.
She let her smile take over. Yes. She'd been here three years exactly now. And didn't regret a minute.
6) "Leave My Body" - Florence + the Machine
Jo stared at her self in the bathroom mirror. Her gaze trailed from the livid bruise surfacing around her right eye, the butterfly bandages on her forehead and cheek, the stitches in her chin, down to the ace bandage on her wrist, the sling supporting the injured arm. Her mind trailed to the invisible, yet no less demanding, aches and pains throughout her body.
She frowned. This, unfortunately, was a part of the job. She'd know it from the beginning. And this wasn't the first time she'd experienced it. On many occasions at the Bureau. At the NYPD with Curtis. And now this latest incident.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the doorbell. She frowned. The intercom hadn't announced anyone's presence outside the building. A neighbor? Unlikely. She felt the unease and anxiety surge within her. They'd caught the asshole who'd done this to her. But not his partner. Had he followed her home? She walked slowly to the entry. Grabbed her gun from her bag where she'd dropped it on the floor, holding the weapon in shaky hands.
She approached the door from the side, just as the bell rang insistently again.
"Jo? Are you there? It's Mac…"
She swallowed back a cry of relief. Exhaled the breath she'd been holding. She glanced at the gun in her hand, suddenly embarrassed at her weakness, her insecurity. She slipped it into the pocket of her jacket on the coat-rack nearby.
She took in a deep breath and unlatched the deadbolt and chain. To find Mac, holding a paper bag. It smelled of burgers. And fries. She couldn't help but smile.
He looked at her seriously, but she could detect a slight smirk surfacing. "You didn't really think I was going to just drop you off did you? I had some trouble parking – but that's the City." And he entered, handing her the bag of takeout and shrugging off his coat.
7) "She" – Norah Jones
Jo stood, reaching out, fingering the names engraved in the cold stone of the mausoleum. Her grandmother. Grandfather. On both sides. Her father… she'd been so young when he'd passed. Then… Her sister. Who'd been too young herself when she'd passed. Her hand, trembling, moved to touch the newest name on the wall. Engraved so recently, dust still tumbled from the crevices as her finger traced it.
Her mother. Who had been there for her. For the family. For everyone around her. Every single step of the way. Through thick and thin. Happy and hard times. The rock of the family. The epitome of a matriarch, if ever there had been one. And now she, too was gone.
Jo's gaze turned to the rows of flower arrangements. From old friends and new. Neighbors. Relatives. Those who played a role in Jo's life. Those who hadn't. Those who meant something. Those who didn't. She reached out to finger a soft pink petal. Cade had sent these. The lilac… From Russ. The muted yellow and lavendar… From the Lab. She frowned. And closed her eyes, as a single tear dropped down her cheek. Her entire living universe, represented by the muted, multi-colored flower petals of a multitude of funerary arrangements. She'd never felt so alone. "Oh, mama… What'll I do without you…" she whispered to the dank air.
"Mama?" She heard a rustling behind her and opened her eyes, her fingers falling from the petal. She turned to find Ellie staring at her, an expression of wary sadness, and heartfelt love, on her face.
Jo stared at her daughter a moment. Took a deep breath. Then smiled. Of course. She would move forward. Just as her own mama had before her.
8) "Leaves That Are Greener" – Simon & Garfunkel
She watched as Russ walked away. From their life. From their son. From her.
She'd told him to leave. That it wouldn't work. That there was no hope for them if he couldn't accept her for who she was. What she was. What she wanted to be. And…somewhat surprisingly, he'd done so.
Not on a whim. Far from it. This had been the culmination of months of arguments. Of weeks of furtive conversations after Tyler was asleep. Of days of heated discussions at lunch, in the corridors at work, wherever they could manage to find a semi-private space in which to vent their frustration at each other's stubbornness.
And now… It was done. Over.
She breathed in deeply. Glanced over at Tyler sleeping soundly in the stroller nearby.
It was high time to start over.
9) "Blank Maps" – Cold Specks
Adam walked down the hall, brow furrowed, shoulders tense. Tonight was turning into a disaster, despite his hours of planning. His first Valentine's Day with Michelle. And most likely his last.
He walked by Jo's office to find her seated in front of her computer. He paused and, knocking briefly, entered when she glanced up.
"Hey!" Her face was one welcome smile.
Adam nodded morosely and her smile turned to a frown. "What's up Adam?"
He sat and put down the shopping bags he'd been carrying on the floor. "Valentine's Day… I got stuck here, missed the dinner reservation I made. Now Michelle called and said she's coming down with the flu anyway. And she wants to just stay in. I wanted to make this night special for her…"
Jo watched him a moment. "Well, you still can…"
He frowned.
She leaned back in her chair eyeing him. "Here…"
She grabbed a post it and pen and began writing. "Mama's chicken soup recipe. It'll be perfect Adam. Make it for her and she'll consider herself the luckiest girl in the world."
"Jo, I can't cook…"
She stared at him. "If I can, Adam, you can. Believe in your self a little…"
He smiled softly and shrugged. "Well… Ok. Thanks Jo." And he walked out to wait for the elevator, unconvinced. He turned to see her heading down the hall to the kitchen. He thought of her, stuck here, alone. Tonight. The elevator doors opened. He hesitated. And walked towards her office, opening one of his bags as he did.
Five minutes later, Jo rounded the corner, a cup of steaming tea in hand. Entering her office, she froze. A look of confusion on her face. She glanced around warily before slowly approaching her desk. She reached out and plucked up the small card sticking out.
"Jo… Thank you. Adam."
She smiled. And leaned in to smell the bouquet of roses. To finger the small heart-shaped box of chocolates. She sighed. "Oh, Adam… You have no idea how lucky she is…"
10) "Life Goes On" – 2Pac
Jo Danville strolled through the Precinct dodging perps arguing with their arresting officers, narrowly avoiding a teary-eyed mother, her son trailing behind, sporting a bloodied nose and black eye, two unis slapping each other on the back as they laughed at some joke. She backed out of the way just in time to avoid two gang members suddenly lunge at each other despite being in handcuffs, Flack stepping in to restrain one, Lovato the other. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw movement. A young girl, gang tattoos covering her arms and neck, heading towards the altercation, her hand drawn back, the intent of her actions written on her face. Clearly the girlfriend of one of the young boys.
Jo placed her hand firmly on the girl's shoulder and she stopped, looking up into Jo's eyes. After a moment's hesitation, Jo smiled softly. "Have a seat. It's going to be a while. I'll get you a soda if you like." Her voice was firm, but respectful. The girl, surprisingly, backed off and did as she was told. Sitting heavily on the bench and crossing her arms in front of her, a well-practiced frown etched in her features. Jo nodded, indicating with a glace at the desk officer that this one might need some extra surveillance.
She sighed and turned to the vending machine, looking back over her shoulder once again at the raucous, chaotic scene. Yes, this was her chosen profession. And yes, she loved it.