A/N: Lyrics at the start of all chapters are © Dixie Chicks
Emily
"And would you know me now?
Would you lay me down beside you?
Tell me all the things I long to hear…
Like that was your favourite year"
*
15th July 2010, the Lyle Centre.
If he thinks for long enough, it'll come to him – but he won't, because he's Harry, and he's busy, and besides, it's not his responsibility to remember who people are, is it?
Except, he's never met her before.
That girl is how old? Maybe eighteen? Doing work experience during the summer before heading to Med School for what will feel like the rest of her life, probably. He's clearly never met her before, and yet he feels like he already knows her; like he ought to know her already.
She is small, and waif, with delicate brown eyes and striking, red hair curling loosely down her back. She's wearing skinny jeans, Converses, and a green t-shirt, which clashes madly with her hair. A thin gold chain snakes round her neck, and down, into her t-shirt, and her arms are clutching a pair of baby blue scrubs, which she's glancing at apprehensively as Leo leads her through the offices to the locker room. She looks like any other eighteen year old girl who's done work experience at the Lyle Centre, and yet she doesn't. Harry smiles, nevertheless, and waits for Leo to come back through, so that he can ask twenty questions, wondering where exactly Nikki is when he needs her. Nikki would know. Nikki would definitely know. Nikki always knew these kinds of things…
And then it hits him: Nikki. He'd never seen a photo of her as a teenager, because, for some reason, she'd wiped that part of her life off the face of the Earth, but he imagined that, when she was eighteen, she looked exactly like that girl, except blonde.
He shrugs, marvelling at how random the world is, sometimes, and goes back to his paperwork, barely glancing up when Leo walks past.
When the girl emerges from the locker room, though, he smiles, again, and introduces himself; "Doctor Cunningham." He says, holding out his hand, "Harry. Forensic –"
"Pathologist." She smiles, "I know." She takes his hand, and shakes it, as though she has known him all her life. He blinks, a little surprised, but shakes back. "I'm Emily." The girl smiles, "nice to meet you."
As she walks past him, he could swear that he hears her whisper "at last" – but he's sure he's imagining it.
*
"Harry!" Leo calls, at about lunchtime, "crime scene for you."
Harry takes post-it note Leo offers him, and quickly scans the address, pulling his car keys from his pocket as he walks towards to exit. Then, something hits him; "where's Nikki today?" he asks.
Leo looks guilty, but avoids answering the question by saying "do you think you could take Emily with you?"
"Sure." Harry replies. "Why's she here, anyway? Work experience?"
"Yes."
"She doing pathology at uni in September, then?"
"Yes."
"Is she certain about that?"
"Why?" Leo asks, perplexed.
Harry shrugs; "she looks too…" ha pauses, unable to think of an appropriate word.
"Feminine?" Leo offers, smirking.
"Yes." Harry agrees. "She looks too feminine to want to be a pathologist. She should do something less morbid. Like surgery."
"Oh, sure!" Leo laughs, "because then she could see the gory bits inside people whilst they're still alive. Much more feminine."
"You know what I mean…" Harry sighs, rolling his eyes.
"You know, I'm not sure I do." Leo says, and Harry cocks an eyebrow, questioningly. "Well, isn't Nikki too feminine to be a pathologist, by that assessment?" he asks, and Harry smiles;
"I suppose so."
Leo notices something in that smile; it's more than the love and friendship and warmth that he usually sees in Harry's smiles, when Nikki is the topic of conversation. It's something much more than that. It's recognition. It's as though he knows, which, of course, he can't. No one here knows. Except Leo.
The moment passes, and Harry turns back to his boss. "Where's Nikki?" he asks, again, because she hasn't picked up her phone all morning, and because he needs to tell her how Emily bares her such a striking resemblance, and because he misses her.
"She's… taken the day off." Leo answers, clearly avoiding the truth. Harry shrugs; it's not the first time, and besides, he has a crime scene to get to.
"I'll call her later." He tells Leo, before walking out of the room. A moment later, though, his head pops back through Leo's door, and he asks "are you sure Emily's ready to go to a scene? I mean she can't be more than eighteen…"
"She is eighteen." Leo confirms. "And she's been ready all her life, Harry." He smiles, noticing the compassion in Harry's eyes. It's as though he's put it all together, subconsciously, and doesn't want to mention anything, just in case he's wrong, or because it is only subconscious, and he's not even aware himself that he's worked it out.
He will, tomorrow, Leo knows, when Nikki comes back.
He'll start to wonder when he sees how much Emily already knows, at the crime scene, pretty soon, but he'll not work it out, finally, until he sees them standing next to each other.
It blew Leo away when he first heard. He didn't believe it, at first; it was such an absurd story, and it was the kind of story that never had a happy ending. Except… except that, in this case, it did. But, the one thing that had confirmed it had been seeing them standing there, side by side. The resemblance really was uncanny.