TITLE : Compromising Situation
AUTHOR : Karen Gomes (pyrie@hotmail.com)
CATEGORY : SBR
RATING : PG
SPOILERS : Probably
DISCLAIMER : All of the known characters/premises/plots belong to their respective owners. So there.
SUMMARY : Bailey's actions leads to Sam's capture by Jack, and revelations ensue.
NOTES : Ah, part two. Whilst I was forced into back-breaking labor in the hellish recesses of work, my mind began to wander, creating many ideas for my fic; and I can so vividly imagine them and play with them in my head - yet sitting in front of my computer only instigates a smothering blankness that drowns out all creativity. Arg!
Cheers!
Gomes.
------------------------------- Compromising Situation (pt. 2) -------------------------------
December 24th -- Holiday Inn Express, British Columbia
Nearing the hours of morn, Sam began to move slightly in her sleep. This movement jarred Bailey out of his 'alert mode' sleep, forcing him to deal with reality. Something had been wrong, it just felt wrong. He slowly turned on the light, and glanced over at Sam. He dimmed it slightly, and surveyed the room: everything was in order. He let out a sigh, and turned the light off. He could no longer feel Sam beside him, and the surge of panic that coursed through his body almost made his heart explode. He batted his hand in the darkness, and finally came into contact with Sam, who had curled up on the other side of the bed.
"Bail?" Came Sam's sleepy response. "Everything okay."
"Just thought I'd lost you for a moment." Bailey breathed, moving closer to her.
Sam's eyes were closed, but her mind was going a mile a minute. She glanced at the clock, which only smiled an uneasy 5:27am in return. Realizing that she wasn't going to get anymore sleep, she slowly lifted herself out of bed, cursing softly as her muscles hurt. She sat on the bed, facing away from Bailey and tried to collect her thoughts. "Bailey?"
"Mmm?"
"I'm going to take my shower. I doubt I'll get anymore sleep." Sam said, as she began rummaging through her bag. She turned her bedside lamp on, and Bailey squinted despite having his eyes closed.
"Saaam . . . " Bailey playfully whined as he sunk his head below the covers.
Sam smiled despite herself. She lifted up the covers and looked at Bailey. "What? Didn't sleep well last night?" Even though she didn't want to admit it, she slept soundly in Bailey's arms. Despite being a dreamless sleep, she felt rested and ready to take on the day.
Bailey sat up and rubbed his eyes. He debated whether or not he should tell Sam about his doubts . . . his fears. He looked at her with worried eyes, knowing that she would push him to reveal his inner-most thoughts. "Insomnia?" It was more of a question or a test of her gullibility than answer.
Sam raised her eyebrow, challenging Bailey. "Spill it, Malone." She sat down swiftly on the bed, causing it to waver slightly.
Bailey lowered his eyes, afraid that she might label him a wimp. «Weak. I can't be weak - I have to protect her!» He mentally scolded himself. "Well, I can't very well protect you if I'm sleeping, can I?" Bailey replied casually, as if there was nothing out of the ordinary.
Sam let out a deep sigh. She knew that wasn't the truth, or at least the whole truth. What could have spooked her boss that he would actually risk his own health to protect her. «Are his instincts that sharp?»
Bailey breathed relief as Sam seemed to accept his answer. Bailey got up and stretched.
Sam's mouth was almost agape as she observed her mentor's fit body. «A little too fit.» She thought to herself as her eyes traveled over his well defined arm muscles and back. She was sure that there would be a puddle of drool at her feet, but she couldn't take her eyes off Bailey. Luckily he was facing away from her, which gave her not only the opportunity to watch him more discreetly, but it also gave her the chance to see his lower half as well. She nervously bit her lip, and thanked God that he had chosen to sleep in his boxers and undershirt that night. She noted his well-developed buttocks and strong calf muscles. «Bailey is just jam packed with muscles.» Sam thought to herself. She picked up her clothes and proceeded to go to the bathroom. «There is still one muscle I am dying to see.» Sam mused to herself, letting out a secret smile. «. . . or rather feel.» She treated herself with one last glance towards Bailey, expecting him to be stretching some part of his fabulous body.
Brown eyes met blue as Bailey froze. He had been watching her watching him. The windows and pictures that hung against the wall provided enough reflection to see the whites of her eyes. He had been deliberately stretching his most developed muscles hoping that Sam was enjoying the show. When she had finally turned, he took the opportunity to lose himself in her beauty; her curves taunted him as they swayed. But it was at that moment that she turned around. «She must know that I was looking at her . . . » Bailey finally dropped his eyes, and sat on the bed, facing away from Sam.
«Oh God.he must know.» Sam threw her arms up in the air, and walked quickly into the bathroom.
***
December 24th -- Linwood Marina, British Columbia
Sam stepped out of the car and into BC's drizzly morn. She felt refreshed after her shower, and the smell of rain tickled her nose. The trip had been silent, both overwhelmed with the other's presence. But Sam tried to push those forbidden thoughts of Bailey behind her . . . for the moment anyway. Two victims had surfaced, and the killers were still on the loose.
Bailey locked the car doors and joined Sam in walking to the Marina. He nervously bit his lower lip, his mind still wandering back to that episode they had shared at Holiday Inn. He shook his head, not sure on how to read Sam's signals. «She's probably just concentrating on the case.» He told himself. When they finally reached the Marina, they were greeted by the chief detective, Kent Parker.
"Agent Malone." Kent said, extending his hand.
"Parker." Bailey said, accepting. He placed his hand on the small of Sam's back, and ushered her slightly forward. "This is Dr. Samantha Waters. She's our Profiler."
"Pleasure." Kent said, and then handed them a file. "The latest victim, Audrey Brooks. 50 year old."
Sam looked at the body, which was fresh out of the water. Seaweed hung on her, almost giving the illusion that they had dragged her in. "I want a full autopsy." Sam said, while trying to decipher the killer's motives.
Kent raised his eyebrow. "I don't see why, Waters." He said, with a laugh. "Obviously she drowned." He pointed at the slight bloating of the victim.
Bailey narrowed his eyes. "A full autopsy report for Dr.Waters, as soon as possible." He said, in a deep, threatening voice. At that moment, Bailey's cell-phone rang. "Malone." Bailey didn't say a word, but just stared out into the never-ending ocean. "We'll be there as soon as possible." Bailey hung up and looked back at the detective. "I assume that the report will be done before dusk?" Bailey said, taking Sam by the arm. He paused, and thrust a piece of paper into Kent's hand. "Fax it." He muttered, and he and Sam walked back to the car. "Did you pick up on anything?" Bailey asked, as he started the car.
"I don't know.against my gut feeling, it might have been an accidental drowning." Sam said softly, as she looked outside the window.
"Against your gut feeling." Bailey repeated. "Another body has been found. This time it's in West Vancouver instead of North." He said. They drove in silence the rest of the way, each lost in their own thoughts about the case, and the other.
***
December 24th -- Sewell's Marina Horseshoe Bay, British Columbia
"Confident that it was an accident?" Bailey asked as they viewed the newest victim. An elderly gentleman by the name of Norman Tatley, 67 years old.
Sam put on a glove and took out a piece of seaweed that was caught in the man's mouth. She observed it carefully, and placed it back on the body. Images of seaweed being stuffed into the man's orifices and then flung over board appeared in a frazzled array of blotches in her mind. "It's almost as if they were dressed with the seaweed." Sam said, as she walked around the body. "I'll need an autopsy report."
The woman who had been supervising was more cooperative, and nodded a response. With that, Sam and Bailey left back for the hotel, where they could get some paper-work done.
***
December 24th -- Holiday Inn Express, British Columbia
Sam collapsed on her bed and glanced at the clock. It was nearing midnight and she was completely exhausted. They had just returned from the morgue and before, had spent most of the day travelling back from Linwood Marina to Sewell's Marina, trying to find some clues. A small knock jarred Sam from her thoughts and she went to open the adjoining doors; there stood Bailey clad in some sweats and a worn out sweater. Sam stood there with her eyebrow raised.
"I'm sorry, was this a formal event?" Bailey asked with a serious face, but slowly broke out into a grin. He ushered a small trolley past Sam, and began to set up a dinner-for-two. "I figured since it is Christmas, we could have a very late dinner together."
"Sounds great." Sam smiled. "We can pitch out information about the case, while we eat." She rummaged through her bag again. "Since you are so comfortable, I'm going to allow myself the same luxury." She grinned, and went into the bathroom.
Bailey shook his head, smiling and continued to set up the table. When Sam immerged, dressed in checkered pants and a button down flannel shirt, her breath was taken away. There was a small Christmas tree in the corner, and the small table was cloaked with a deep red table cloth, two candles and two plates. "Bail . . . " Sam whispered, putting her hand over her mouth.
Bailey held Sam's chair out, as she sat down in awe. "Hope this pleases you, Sam." He said, sitting down in front of her. "You've been working very hard on this case, and I figured you could use a break."
Sam smiled, as Bailey served her some pasta, with salad and wine to finish off the meal. She took a taste of the pasta, and immediately fell in love. "Let me guess, you cooked?"
Bailey attempted to be modest. "Well, I might have thrown one or two things together . . . "
Their conversation was kept light, matching the mood and they had both agreed to talk over the case after supper. When supper was finally over, and everything had been cleaned, it was almost one o'clock. Bailey bent down near the tree and picked up a small rectangular box.
"I saw this, one day and I just thought about you." Bailey said, not looking Sam in the eyes. He walked behind her and opened the box. Gently placing her hair to the side; letting his fingers linger in the silky softness, he took out the necklace and placed it on her neck. As he closed the clasp, he let his hands rest on her shoulders.
Sam looked down at the necklace : a simple solitaire diamond hung from a very thin chain. "Bail . . . " She turned around and almost jumped in his arms. "It's beautiful!" They held each other for a long while, and when they finally broke apart, Sam was smiling uneasily.
"What's wrong?"
Sam shrugged. "Sorry," she picked up an envelope, "all I got you were some gift certificates."
Bailey exhaled a small laugh. "Sam, just by you being safe is a good enough present for me."
She flashed him a smile, and they both sat down on the bed and opened a few files. "The coroners' reports for Audrey Brooks and Norman Tatley." Sam looked at both of the pictures in the reports, on one side an elderly gentleman with barely any white hair left looked up at her. On the other side, a grey-haired woman lay peacefully. Sam shuddered involuntarily.
Bailey placed his hand on her thigh. "Are you okay?" He smiled at her tenderly. He glanced over her shoulder, and viewed the two pictures. "Either this is the work of a copy-cat or another killer." Bailey said.
"Why say that?" Sam looked at the pictures.
"Well, normally, the woman would be blond and the man would have brown hair." Bailey shrugged. "That is, if we follow the pattern."
"Well, the ages stay true to the profile." Sam replied to which Bailey acknowledged. Both skimmed through the files rather quickly, for their eyes started to get heavy. "Bail." Sam said, placing the file in his view. "Look at Brook's stats."
"Born Audrey Brooks, 1952. Blue eyes, blond hair." Bailey said, glancing up at Sam. "And I guess Norman was quite the brunette in his time." Bailey joked monotonously.
"Blond hair, blue eyes. Brown hair, deep brown eyes. Blond hair, blue eyes. Brown hair, deep brown eyes. Blond . . . " Sam's eyes grew wide. "Bailey . . . " She whispered.
Bailey immediately sensed the fear in her voice. He shuffled over beside her and looked her in the eyes. "What's wrong?"
"Us." She said, staring at the pictures.
Bailey was taken aback. «Us?» He blinked then looked at Sam again. "I don't understand."
"Look." Sam said, pointing to the picture. "The women are all five foot seven, blond hair and blue eyes." Sam said, closing the file. "If someone gave you that description, who would you think of?"
Bailey's eyes rested on Sam's, and she nodded at his comprehension. "And for the men . . . " Bailey said, afraid of the answer.
"About six feet tall, brown hair and deep brown eyes." Sam said matter-of- factly.
"So . . . you think it's . . . " Bailey couldn't even begin to say it.
"Jack." It was barely a whisper, but it silenced both agents.
--TBC--
AUTHOR : Karen Gomes (pyrie@hotmail.com)
CATEGORY : SBR
RATING : PG
SPOILERS : Probably
DISCLAIMER : All of the known characters/premises/plots belong to their respective owners. So there.
SUMMARY : Bailey's actions leads to Sam's capture by Jack, and revelations ensue.
NOTES : Ah, part two. Whilst I was forced into back-breaking labor in the hellish recesses of work, my mind began to wander, creating many ideas for my fic; and I can so vividly imagine them and play with them in my head - yet sitting in front of my computer only instigates a smothering blankness that drowns out all creativity. Arg!
Cheers!
Gomes.
------------------------------- Compromising Situation (pt. 2) -------------------------------
December 24th -- Holiday Inn Express, British Columbia
Nearing the hours of morn, Sam began to move slightly in her sleep. This movement jarred Bailey out of his 'alert mode' sleep, forcing him to deal with reality. Something had been wrong, it just felt wrong. He slowly turned on the light, and glanced over at Sam. He dimmed it slightly, and surveyed the room: everything was in order. He let out a sigh, and turned the light off. He could no longer feel Sam beside him, and the surge of panic that coursed through his body almost made his heart explode. He batted his hand in the darkness, and finally came into contact with Sam, who had curled up on the other side of the bed.
"Bail?" Came Sam's sleepy response. "Everything okay."
"Just thought I'd lost you for a moment." Bailey breathed, moving closer to her.
Sam's eyes were closed, but her mind was going a mile a minute. She glanced at the clock, which only smiled an uneasy 5:27am in return. Realizing that she wasn't going to get anymore sleep, she slowly lifted herself out of bed, cursing softly as her muscles hurt. She sat on the bed, facing away from Bailey and tried to collect her thoughts. "Bailey?"
"Mmm?"
"I'm going to take my shower. I doubt I'll get anymore sleep." Sam said, as she began rummaging through her bag. She turned her bedside lamp on, and Bailey squinted despite having his eyes closed.
"Saaam . . . " Bailey playfully whined as he sunk his head below the covers.
Sam smiled despite herself. She lifted up the covers and looked at Bailey. "What? Didn't sleep well last night?" Even though she didn't want to admit it, she slept soundly in Bailey's arms. Despite being a dreamless sleep, she felt rested and ready to take on the day.
Bailey sat up and rubbed his eyes. He debated whether or not he should tell Sam about his doubts . . . his fears. He looked at her with worried eyes, knowing that she would push him to reveal his inner-most thoughts. "Insomnia?" It was more of a question or a test of her gullibility than answer.
Sam raised her eyebrow, challenging Bailey. "Spill it, Malone." She sat down swiftly on the bed, causing it to waver slightly.
Bailey lowered his eyes, afraid that she might label him a wimp. «Weak. I can't be weak - I have to protect her!» He mentally scolded himself. "Well, I can't very well protect you if I'm sleeping, can I?" Bailey replied casually, as if there was nothing out of the ordinary.
Sam let out a deep sigh. She knew that wasn't the truth, or at least the whole truth. What could have spooked her boss that he would actually risk his own health to protect her. «Are his instincts that sharp?»
Bailey breathed relief as Sam seemed to accept his answer. Bailey got up and stretched.
Sam's mouth was almost agape as she observed her mentor's fit body. «A little too fit.» She thought to herself as her eyes traveled over his well defined arm muscles and back. She was sure that there would be a puddle of drool at her feet, but she couldn't take her eyes off Bailey. Luckily he was facing away from her, which gave her not only the opportunity to watch him more discreetly, but it also gave her the chance to see his lower half as well. She nervously bit her lip, and thanked God that he had chosen to sleep in his boxers and undershirt that night. She noted his well-developed buttocks and strong calf muscles. «Bailey is just jam packed with muscles.» Sam thought to herself. She picked up her clothes and proceeded to go to the bathroom. «There is still one muscle I am dying to see.» Sam mused to herself, letting out a secret smile. «. . . or rather feel.» She treated herself with one last glance towards Bailey, expecting him to be stretching some part of his fabulous body.
Brown eyes met blue as Bailey froze. He had been watching her watching him. The windows and pictures that hung against the wall provided enough reflection to see the whites of her eyes. He had been deliberately stretching his most developed muscles hoping that Sam was enjoying the show. When she had finally turned, he took the opportunity to lose himself in her beauty; her curves taunted him as they swayed. But it was at that moment that she turned around. «She must know that I was looking at her . . . » Bailey finally dropped his eyes, and sat on the bed, facing away from Sam.
«Oh God.he must know.» Sam threw her arms up in the air, and walked quickly into the bathroom.
***
December 24th -- Linwood Marina, British Columbia
Sam stepped out of the car and into BC's drizzly morn. She felt refreshed after her shower, and the smell of rain tickled her nose. The trip had been silent, both overwhelmed with the other's presence. But Sam tried to push those forbidden thoughts of Bailey behind her . . . for the moment anyway. Two victims had surfaced, and the killers were still on the loose.
Bailey locked the car doors and joined Sam in walking to the Marina. He nervously bit his lower lip, his mind still wandering back to that episode they had shared at Holiday Inn. He shook his head, not sure on how to read Sam's signals. «She's probably just concentrating on the case.» He told himself. When they finally reached the Marina, they were greeted by the chief detective, Kent Parker.
"Agent Malone." Kent said, extending his hand.
"Parker." Bailey said, accepting. He placed his hand on the small of Sam's back, and ushered her slightly forward. "This is Dr. Samantha Waters. She's our Profiler."
"Pleasure." Kent said, and then handed them a file. "The latest victim, Audrey Brooks. 50 year old."
Sam looked at the body, which was fresh out of the water. Seaweed hung on her, almost giving the illusion that they had dragged her in. "I want a full autopsy." Sam said, while trying to decipher the killer's motives.
Kent raised his eyebrow. "I don't see why, Waters." He said, with a laugh. "Obviously she drowned." He pointed at the slight bloating of the victim.
Bailey narrowed his eyes. "A full autopsy report for Dr.Waters, as soon as possible." He said, in a deep, threatening voice. At that moment, Bailey's cell-phone rang. "Malone." Bailey didn't say a word, but just stared out into the never-ending ocean. "We'll be there as soon as possible." Bailey hung up and looked back at the detective. "I assume that the report will be done before dusk?" Bailey said, taking Sam by the arm. He paused, and thrust a piece of paper into Kent's hand. "Fax it." He muttered, and he and Sam walked back to the car. "Did you pick up on anything?" Bailey asked, as he started the car.
"I don't know.against my gut feeling, it might have been an accidental drowning." Sam said softly, as she looked outside the window.
"Against your gut feeling." Bailey repeated. "Another body has been found. This time it's in West Vancouver instead of North." He said. They drove in silence the rest of the way, each lost in their own thoughts about the case, and the other.
***
December 24th -- Sewell's Marina Horseshoe Bay, British Columbia
"Confident that it was an accident?" Bailey asked as they viewed the newest victim. An elderly gentleman by the name of Norman Tatley, 67 years old.
Sam put on a glove and took out a piece of seaweed that was caught in the man's mouth. She observed it carefully, and placed it back on the body. Images of seaweed being stuffed into the man's orifices and then flung over board appeared in a frazzled array of blotches in her mind. "It's almost as if they were dressed with the seaweed." Sam said, as she walked around the body. "I'll need an autopsy report."
The woman who had been supervising was more cooperative, and nodded a response. With that, Sam and Bailey left back for the hotel, where they could get some paper-work done.
***
December 24th -- Holiday Inn Express, British Columbia
Sam collapsed on her bed and glanced at the clock. It was nearing midnight and she was completely exhausted. They had just returned from the morgue and before, had spent most of the day travelling back from Linwood Marina to Sewell's Marina, trying to find some clues. A small knock jarred Sam from her thoughts and she went to open the adjoining doors; there stood Bailey clad in some sweats and a worn out sweater. Sam stood there with her eyebrow raised.
"I'm sorry, was this a formal event?" Bailey asked with a serious face, but slowly broke out into a grin. He ushered a small trolley past Sam, and began to set up a dinner-for-two. "I figured since it is Christmas, we could have a very late dinner together."
"Sounds great." Sam smiled. "We can pitch out information about the case, while we eat." She rummaged through her bag again. "Since you are so comfortable, I'm going to allow myself the same luxury." She grinned, and went into the bathroom.
Bailey shook his head, smiling and continued to set up the table. When Sam immerged, dressed in checkered pants and a button down flannel shirt, her breath was taken away. There was a small Christmas tree in the corner, and the small table was cloaked with a deep red table cloth, two candles and two plates. "Bail . . . " Sam whispered, putting her hand over her mouth.
Bailey held Sam's chair out, as she sat down in awe. "Hope this pleases you, Sam." He said, sitting down in front of her. "You've been working very hard on this case, and I figured you could use a break."
Sam smiled, as Bailey served her some pasta, with salad and wine to finish off the meal. She took a taste of the pasta, and immediately fell in love. "Let me guess, you cooked?"
Bailey attempted to be modest. "Well, I might have thrown one or two things together . . . "
Their conversation was kept light, matching the mood and they had both agreed to talk over the case after supper. When supper was finally over, and everything had been cleaned, it was almost one o'clock. Bailey bent down near the tree and picked up a small rectangular box.
"I saw this, one day and I just thought about you." Bailey said, not looking Sam in the eyes. He walked behind her and opened the box. Gently placing her hair to the side; letting his fingers linger in the silky softness, he took out the necklace and placed it on her neck. As he closed the clasp, he let his hands rest on her shoulders.
Sam looked down at the necklace : a simple solitaire diamond hung from a very thin chain. "Bail . . . " She turned around and almost jumped in his arms. "It's beautiful!" They held each other for a long while, and when they finally broke apart, Sam was smiling uneasily.
"What's wrong?"
Sam shrugged. "Sorry," she picked up an envelope, "all I got you were some gift certificates."
Bailey exhaled a small laugh. "Sam, just by you being safe is a good enough present for me."
She flashed him a smile, and they both sat down on the bed and opened a few files. "The coroners' reports for Audrey Brooks and Norman Tatley." Sam looked at both of the pictures in the reports, on one side an elderly gentleman with barely any white hair left looked up at her. On the other side, a grey-haired woman lay peacefully. Sam shuddered involuntarily.
Bailey placed his hand on her thigh. "Are you okay?" He smiled at her tenderly. He glanced over her shoulder, and viewed the two pictures. "Either this is the work of a copy-cat or another killer." Bailey said.
"Why say that?" Sam looked at the pictures.
"Well, normally, the woman would be blond and the man would have brown hair." Bailey shrugged. "That is, if we follow the pattern."
"Well, the ages stay true to the profile." Sam replied to which Bailey acknowledged. Both skimmed through the files rather quickly, for their eyes started to get heavy. "Bail." Sam said, placing the file in his view. "Look at Brook's stats."
"Born Audrey Brooks, 1952. Blue eyes, blond hair." Bailey said, glancing up at Sam. "And I guess Norman was quite the brunette in his time." Bailey joked monotonously.
"Blond hair, blue eyes. Brown hair, deep brown eyes. Blond hair, blue eyes. Brown hair, deep brown eyes. Blond . . . " Sam's eyes grew wide. "Bailey . . . " She whispered.
Bailey immediately sensed the fear in her voice. He shuffled over beside her and looked her in the eyes. "What's wrong?"
"Us." She said, staring at the pictures.
Bailey was taken aback. «Us?» He blinked then looked at Sam again. "I don't understand."
"Look." Sam said, pointing to the picture. "The women are all five foot seven, blond hair and blue eyes." Sam said, closing the file. "If someone gave you that description, who would you think of?"
Bailey's eyes rested on Sam's, and she nodded at his comprehension. "And for the men . . . " Bailey said, afraid of the answer.
"About six feet tall, brown hair and deep brown eyes." Sam said matter-of- factly.
"So . . . you think it's . . . " Bailey couldn't even begin to say it.
"Jack." It was barely a whisper, but it silenced both agents.
--TBC--