Steve dropped dejectedly into his office chair, his head still spinning from the latest and most unexpected development in the case. Lost in his thoughts, he was oblivious to the hustle and bustle around him. Phones rang, doors slammed and colleagues called back and forth to each other, as they tapped away at their key boards, keen to finish up reports and head on home. Despite the lateness of the hour, the precinct was still jumping and a constant stream of people passed his desk - police officers in uniform, tattooed bikers, low rent call girls, businessmen, even mothers with small children – downtown they saw them all. But right now Steve saw nothing. Following him in five minutes later Tanis smiled ruefully, he looked as though he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.
Moving aside the numerous files and papers that cluttered his desk, she placed a steaming cup of coffee in front of him.
'Drink up Sloan' she instructed 'You look like you need it'.
Steve sighed 'I was so sure it was her' he said shaking his head sadly. He shrugged, looking up at Tanis glumly 'You know I really thought I'd figured it all out. I couldn't believe that I'd beaten Dad to it for once'. He paused, pulling a face 'I should have known it was never gonna happen'.
It was said as a joke, albeit an ironic one, but she thought she detected - what ? - A hint of bitterness, certainly dejection, maybe, just maybe a touch of self-pity? Momentarily she was surprised, but then she'd never thought about it from Steve's perspective before. She, like everyone else, thoroughly appreciated Mark Sloan's brilliance – his status on the force was fast becoming legendary. But now she thought about it, really thought about it, she guessed it had to be kinda tough on Steve. He was never anything but full of admiration for Mark, but Steve Sloan was a proud man - having his father solving so many of his cases must be pretty hard to take.
There was no doubt that Steve was a good cop, you didn't make Lieutenant by being a slouch, and yet it couldn't be denied that Mark had that something extra – that touch of genius that marked him out as special. He was a veritable master of abstract thinking - could see patterns that others couldn't see. Combine that with those rare flashes of insight and he left lesser mortals trailing in his wake. How could Steve or anyone else compete with that?
She looked at him, slumped in his chair, half-heartedly flicking through the papers that littered his desk. Steve had never said anything before, but that wasn't unusual – since when did Steve Sloan discuss his feelings with her or anyone else? Briefly, she wondered if Mark knew that he sometimes made his son feel inadequate. She didn't think so. She knew Steve had an unusually close relationship with his father, but couldn't picture him telling Mark how he felt about this. It'd be like admitting a weakness and Steve Sloan would never do that.
She sighed, in a way that was his weakness. If only he didn't try to do everything by himself, if only he'd open up a little more, let someone in. Everybody needed a shoulder to cry on now and then, especially cops. If she didn't have Steve and her sister to talk to, she'd have gone crazy by now, she knew it. Steve had his father and his friends, and he had her, and yet nothing.
She smiled ruefully. Sometimes it was tough being his partner, not knowing what was going on in that head of his, what emotions were brewing beneath the surface. She was always on the outside, never privy to his inner thoughts. As partners she'd always thought they worked well together, but did they? When did they ever talk, really talk? When it came down to it, they'd never really ventured beyond the intricacies of their latest case or how the Raiders were doing this season.
She shook her head - Did that make her a bad partner? Suddenly she smiled; she was talking like they were married! She sounded like a disgruntled wife. They were partners; nothing more. She grinned - if she found him hard to figure at work, how would it be as his wife? Abruptly she paused, was that why he was still single? Was he was afraid to let anyone get close? It was an intriguing question; in fact she was surprised at just how intriguing it was, but she knew there was no time to contemplate it right now. Instead she filed it away, to ponder over in a more private moment, perhaps relaxing in a bubble bath or in the small hours when sleep wouldn't come.
She sneaked another look at Steve. He'd given up on the files, now he was staring dejectedly into his coffee. He looked so lost, so alone and in that split second her heart went out to him. She longed to comfort him, to reach out to him, but that wasn't the way they operated. They didn't have that type of relationship. To Steve she was just one of the guys; he'd more likely expect her to join him in downing a few beers, than to hold his hand.
'And whose fault is that?' a little voice whispered in her head. She'd been so desperate not to let being a woman stand in the way of her career; that she'd clamped down on her femininity, created this androgynous, professional identity. No wonder guys like Steve didn't notice her; looked instead at women like Natasha Summers.
She rolled her eyes, giving herself a mental shake. Since when did she allow women like Natasha to make her feel inadequate? Obviously Steve wasn't the only one feeling maudlin tonight – her own emotions were throwing her for a loop right now too. It seemed like the case was getting to them both.
'Enough already' she thought to herself sternly, now was not the time to go to pieces. Whether he knew it or not, her partner needed her. It was her turn to be the strong one.
She looked at him again, chewing her lip meditatively. His coffee remained untouched. He was back to flicking through the files again, but this time his movements were irritable, his frustration mounting. She sighed. She wanted to help, but how? He sure didn't make it easy. In his current mood, offering words of cold comfort, she was likely to get her head bitten off. And yet, she mused, just now he had let his feelings show at least a little – a rare flash of vulnerability, before retreating into the more familiar anger and irritation.
He'd been close to the edge for a while now, snapping at her, almost taking a pop at Wyatt and now this. What was going on? She paused suddenly, as all at once it dawned on her. Was he feeling inadequate? She gasped in surprise, is that what all this was about - self-doubt? Is that why he was driving himself so hard, going all loose cannon on her? No wonder Wyatt's comments had gotten to him; in his brutish teasing Wyatt had inadvertently hit a nerve, had voiced what Steve had been thinking himself. Intuitively she knew she was right. And there was more. In his own way, Steve had been looking for help. He was looking for reassurance, a life line, someone to tell him that he could still do his job. Right now he was looking to her.
She looked up, wondering what to say, how to play it. Kennedy, one of the Uniforms was approaching, a stack of papers in his arms. Spotting him heading in their direction, Tanis hurriedly waved him away. The junior officer took in her warning glance and the bad tempered way her partner was tossing files about his desk. Without a moment's hesitation, he about-turned and quickly back tracked to the safety of the coffee machine. The witness statement could wait – Lieutenant Sloan in a temper was not something he planned on experiencing personally.
Having dispatched the Uniform, Tanis sat down opposite Steve. She placed her hand on his, stopping him from flicking through the files. Gently taking the files from him, she set them back down on the desk and pointedly handed him the now cooling coffee.
'Drink up' she said 'I don't get coffee for just anyone ya know'.
Finally he smiled.
'Look Steve' she said firmly 'You're a good cop. Vicky Harris, Schwenck, they lied to you that's all. With the evidence we had, you came to a logical conclusion' she grinned at him 'Hey, I thought the exact same thing myself'.
He sighed 'I guess so'.
'I know so' she replied primly 'Now snap out of it Sloan, we still have work to do'.
He knew she was right. Now was not the time to be wallowing in self-pity, but he was tired and frustrated and more than anything ready for a couple of beers. No scratch that - a whole lotta beers. He sighed, what was going on with him lately? He was losing control, letting his temper get the better of him and just now he'd almost given in to the temptation to confide in Tanis, to tell her how inadequate he was feeling,
Suddenly angry with himself, he reached irritably for the case files 'So I guess we're back to square one' he groused.
'Not quite' Tanis replied archly 'Vicky Harris just pointed us to our next suspect.'
'She did?' Steve said in confusion. Okay he was tired and miserable, but right now he couldn't think of anything that Vicky had said that would point them in the right direction
'She did' Tanis replied with a grin 'so drink up, we have a killer to catch'.
***
'Hey guys' Mark said as he entered the pathology lab 'I saw the light on, working late?'
They turned round, both surprised by the sound of his voice. Obviously they hadn't been expecting company. Mark smiled fondly; they were up to something that much was clear. Books and papers were scattered across Amanda's desk and Jesse's hair was sticking out in all directions, as if he'd been repeatedly running his fingers through it.
'Mark, where have you been?' Amanda admonished him 'I've been trying to reach you for the last hour.'
'We've got some great news' Jesse interrupted eagerly, before Mark had a chance to reply 'Tell him Amanda' he said excitedly.
'Well', Amanda said, eyes shinning 'I think I've finally figured out what the substance is that's on the bodies. It's a compound called …'
'Natron?' Mark interrupted, smiling at the astonished looks that greeted him 'A combination of sodium carbonate and bicarbonate – I believe that the Ancient Egyptians used it to embalm the bodies of the dead.'
Amanda blew out her cheeks 'Mark, how do you do it?' she said wearily.
He shrugged good-naturedly and sat down next to them, helping himself to a cup of coffee from the large jug on the desk between them 'Lets just say I followed a hunch'.
'Well your hunch was right' Jesse said. 'Amanda ran some tests on Steve's blood and they're pretty conclusive'.
Mark raised an inquiring eyebrow, as Amanda pulled Steve's notes and passed them over. He pushed his glasses to the end of his nose and with an expert eye, perused the notes swiftly.
'Carbon poisoning?' he asked, looking at Amanda over the rim of his glasses.
'That's right' she replied 'He has elevated levels of carbonic enzymes in his bloodstream.'
'Well that would certainly explain why he's been feeling drowsy and nauseous, and getting headaches' Mark said thoughtfully 'But why haven't we been affected?'
'I think we have' Amanda replied 'it's just that our bodies are breaking down the enzymes more effectively than Steve's'. She looked at him seriously 'Mark, I don't have to tell you the kind of pressure Steve's been under lately. We all know he hasn't been taking care of himself properly – not sleeping, not eating' she bit her lip 'his body is beginning to pay the price'.
Mark sighed 'I'll talk to him honey, but right now I don't think he's gonna wanna hear it'. He paused 'Steve and Tanis arrested a suspect tonight.'
'They did? Why that's wonderful' Amanda beamed.
'Who is it?' Jesse asked excitedly.
'Vicky Harris' Mark replied 'One of the chemistry grad students'.
Jesse nodded sagely 'That would make sense; the killer would need a background in chemistry to manufacture the Natron'.
'You don't look too happy Mark?' Amanda observed shrewdly.
'You know I'm not' he admitted. Screwing up his face he frowned 'Something just doesn't feel right'.
'What?' Jesse asked intrigued.
'Well' Mark replied 'The killer specifically used Egyptian weapons and by embalming the bodies, followed an Egyptian ritual - right?'
'Right' Amanda replied and Jesse nodded his head in agreement.
'Now why would a chemist do that?' Mark asked, sitting back in his chair and folding his arms.
They thought for a moment, and then Jesse beamed 'May be they wanted to frame someone!' He said triumphantly.
'It's possible Jess' Mark allowed 'but I still think that it's more significant to the killer than that. If you look at the three murders, they're almost ritualistic in the way they were carried out
'So you're saying we should be looking for someone with a background in rituals?' Jesse asked.
Mark nodded. There's something else too.'
'What' Amanda asked 'C'mon Mark, don't hold out on us now.'
Mark sighed 'Vicky Harris is convinced that the project is cursed. What if she's right?'
Amanda laughed 'Oh come on Mark, I thought we'd been through all this. I thought we agreed that it was all just silly superstition'.
He looked at her seriously 'Superstition can be powerful if you believe in it'.
Jesse frowned thoughtfully 'So what you're saying is that the victims all believed that they were cursed?'
'No' Mark replied 'I think they were cursed.'
'Huh?' Jesse said, puzzled.
Amanda frowned, she really had no idea where this was going 'Mark what are you saying?' she asked.
He sighed 'What if someone really did believe that the research team were disturbing something sacred, something that they had no right to disturb'. He looked at them gravely 'Maybe they took the 'supernatural law' into their own hands'.
Jesse's eyes sparked with sudden understanding 'You mean, you think that the killer is acting out a curse?'
'Yes, Jesse' Mark smiled ruefully 'That's exactly what I think'.
'But who would believe something like that?' Amanda asked incredulously 'They'd have to be some sort of fanatic, out of their mind!'
Mark sighed, his face lined with worry 'That's what I'm afraid of'.