She skipped stopping by her office the next morning—knowing she didn't have time to check e-mail. While yesterday her clothing was a simple black pair of pants and a button up shirt, with her hair pulled into a pony tail, today it had changed into a blue business suit and her hair pulled up into a twist—making her look more professional, knowledgeable, and believable for the witness stand in a few hours.
Her shoes clicked on the tile floor as she walked into Damon's office without a knock, "Good morning. I've got two cases at the courthouse today—the first case starts in an hour so I wanted to stop by now and give you the lab results. I'll be back later this afternoon, but not sure when."
A grin crept on John's face at seeing her standing there—it wasn't the Natalie he was used to seeing, the one in jeans and a blouse leaning over a pool table, but definitely one he could get used to.
Natalie ignored the look on his face and turned to Damon, "What were you talking about?"
"John thinks this guy is some sort of delivery person—we're going to look into it this morning."
"Probably do a news conference later this afternoon—get him to start slipping up," said John as he watched the look on her face change drastically.
"Are you serious? That's the stupidest thing you could do, McBain—I thought you'd learned your lesson about news conferences years ago," she snapped before turning and storming out of the office.
Damon groaned as he jumped out the chair and caught her down the hallway. "Stop right there Buchanan," he said as he saw her turn and the look she gave him could stop his heart in an instant. "What the hell was that?"
"I just don't like arrogant ego-driven jerks coming into my crime scene and my case and trying to do things their way—not listening to my suggestions or letting me help them when I'm pretty good at doing my job if you haven't noticed."
"I know that," he said as he quieted down some and saw her ease back also.
"I'm sorry—I just don't think a news conference is a good idea this early into the case."
"Four deaths already is early?"
"No, it's not—but I've heard of serial killers deviating from their normal MO when that approach is used," she said, loud enough that she hoped John had heard her. "I—I need to go."
"You also need to apologize to Agent McBain."
"Yeah, sure—I will," she nodded hastily before leaving. "Leave me a message if anything happens—I'll check my voice mail after I'm done," she said turning back and giving him a smile.
"Will do. Go get 'em, tiger," he grinned as he watched her walk off.
John had sat quietly while he heard Damon and Natalie's conversation—she'd used the phrase deviate from the norm to describe what happened to cause Caitlyn's death. That comment had hurt worse that the arrogant ego-driven male comment. He ran a hand over his face as Damon walked back in, "Everything ok?"
"Yeah—she can just go a little over the top when trying to prove her point," he laughed as he sat back down in his chair and began reading the report she'd brought him.
"Yeah, she's pretty amazing when it comes to doing that," said John to himself.
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Natalie hit the pool ball with more force than she had meant to—her testimony had gone flawlessly, her anger at John's suggestion had made her believable and passionate on the stand—hopefully sealing the fate of both of the accused.
She'd have to make sure she thanked John for still having the ability to get her going.
When she'd gotten done though and checked messages she found out that none of the delivery services were consistent through all four neighborhoods. She'd gone home and changed into something relaxing before going to a nearby pub to play a few games of pool and clear her head about the case.
She took her next shot and missed badly.
"You always had trouble with that shot," came a voice behind her and she turned to see John standing there watching her.
"How'd you find me?"
"Well, I figured there weren't any hotel roofs for you to sit and ponder on so I asked for the nearest place that had a pool table. I knew you pretty well back then," he said, his voice mixed between solemn and frustrated at the case.
"Yeah, we knew each other then pretty well, didn't we?" she said as she just stared at him for a minute, trying to silently read him. When she realized what she was doing she coughed and began taking the balls out of the pockets, "We gonna play or what?"
He gave her a slight chuckle as he began racking the balls and they played in silence, first one game, then a second—thinking about the same thing but not ready to bounce ideas off each other yet.
"Hey—what are you two doing here?" asked Damon as he walked in with his wife Jenn.
"You know me—got to play in order to think," laughed Natalie as she saw Jenn holding a magazine.
"Is that what I think it is?" she jumped and grabbed it from her.
John watched her react like a child as he looked at Damon for answers.
"It's called Buzz—an Atlanta magazine that's doing feature articles on career driven women—and the latest article is about our own Natalie," he said.
"Honey you look amazing," spoke Jenn as she leaned with Natalie against the pool table.
"Stop it."
"Seriously—doesn't she look hot," she said handing the magazine to John.
He stared at the picture—she was sitting on the corner of a bed in what looked like an old hotel room—if he hadn't known any better he would think it was their room from before. She had on a teal shirt with a black blazer, was leaning slightly forward as the strap of a camera hung from her hands.
The look she was giving into the camera was one that made him gulp. For the causal observer it was one that said she meant business, but for him and others that knew her well the look was one of determination when it came to helping someone she cared deeply about.
He looked up to see Natalie was waiting for an answer, "Definitely hot," he said with a smirk as he passed the magazine over to Damon and watched Natalie's face become flushed.
"Who's up for some dinner? I'm starving," said Natalie as she put down the pool stick and walked over to a table.
"Sure—we're in," said Damon as he and Jenn followed. "What about you Agent McBain?"
"I'll have to pass—maybe another time. Congratulations, kid," he said with a wink as he turned and left the bar.
After Damon went up to get their food Jenn leaned over the table and looked Natalie straight in the eye, "So how long did you two sleep together?"
Natalie choked and nearly spewed her beer across the table and all over her friend, "Excuse me?"
"Oh come on—my husband might be too dense to realize it, but I could tell the moment I walked in the bar you had a history together. You don't act that relaxed with any of the guys I've seen you go out with—with him you were in the zone, as if you'd played pool hundreds of times. So tell me about him? Is he as dark and brooding as he seemed just then?"
She couldn't help but give a slight smirk as she played with the label on her beer, "Yeah—he is."
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She double checked the room number before knocking with her free hand, the other hand holding a six-pack of beer.
"Who is it?" he said, an annoyed tone in his voice.
"It's me," she spoke and within seconds the door opened and she could read his face—wondering how she knew where to find him. "To answer your question I remembered the FBI isn't really up for setting their agents in posh accommodations," she smiled as she walked on past him.
"What's the visit for then?"
"I wanted this to be totally professional, but I can tell there's too much garbage in the way for that to happen—so let's clear up any past misgivings now," she said as she uncapped a beer and handed it to him.