Title: Misled
Rating: T? I'm not used to this new ratings system.
Disclaimer: Again, the characters are property of CBS, Alliance Atlantis and Jerry Bruckheimer.
"You heading home?"
"Yeah, definitely." Aiden answered. "I'm making myself a stiff drink, and heading straight to bed."
He nodded in response and rifled through his locker, looking for a clean shirt before changing.
"Looks like you had quite the night." He turned around to see her looking smug. She had been watching him change.
"Do you mind? This isn't a show."
"I'll bet you put on one last night." she shot back. "Turn around."
He did as he was told.
"Mild epithelial damage, running diagonal along your upper back. Four tracks, the second one running slightly deeper and the last one fainter than the rest. Looks like they were created by a hand, probably female-"
Department policy clearly dictated that crime scene personnel were only to be deployed in the case of an actual crime, something she didn't seem to be aware of. "You can't prove that."
"Not conclusively. But the four abrasions are close to each other, implying a smaller hand." She positioned her fingers on the cuts and gently ran her hand down his back. He shivered slightly from her touch, and she smirked.
"Nervous, Messer?"
"You're pawing my back." he pointed out.
"I'm just investigating. Relax." She walked around to face him. "No abrasions on your chest..." she observed.
He knew where this was going. "Aiden, before you dissect my personal-"
She cut him off. "-which confirms you were...uh...facing her during your little encounter."
He had to give it to her. She was tactful enough to refrain from the use of more descriptive terms. "So it had to be something like this?" She stepped forward, keeping some distance between them and rested her hand on the scratches on his back.
He stared at her. Normally he could see right through her, but now, he couldn't even begin to guess what was running through her mind. He cleared his throat. "Very good. Now, if you don't mind-"
She cut him off again, stepping back. "It appears as though you two kept it relatively conventional, since there's no obvious deep tissue bruising."
"None that you can see anyway." he muttered. "Are we done?"
"Almost. Who is she?"
Why did she want to know, anyway? "Aiden, that's none of your-"
"Name." she said pointedly.
"No way in hell." He matched her tone.
She grinned at his response. He knew she had never been intimidated by him, but only now did he find the fact that she could hold her own against him somewhat…intriguing?
"I'm sure there's some way to get it out of you..."
He knew what she was going for (she always did his paperwork for him) and decided to change tactics. "Threats won't be necessary." But if she thought she could get away with all this without some retaliation…he lowered his voice. "It was Stella."
"What!"
Just act natural, he told himself. "You won't tell Mac, will you?"
"You're screwing with me." she mumbled, more to herself that anyone. "You have got to be screwing with me."
Of course he was. But she didn't have to know that yet.
"I can't believe you slept with Stel-you jerk. Stella was here last night. She pulled a double."
She was too smart for him. "You should have seen the look on your face…it was so worth it." Had it always been this much fun teasing her?
"Oh, you are going to get it. You deserve no mercy." She slammed her locker door shut and glared at him for a second before laughing. "You really are horrible, you know that? But I still want to know who it was. Cause she should have known better."
"Harsh."
"Stop stalling." she ordered.
"It was an old girlfriend, okay? Nothing happened; she slipped at my place and clawed me on the way down. She was in town for business, so we met up."
She rolled her eyes. "So you would have just let me carry on like that?"
He suddenly remembered that his shirt was still in his hand, so he slipped in on. "Hey, I tried to explain. Several times, actually. But someone kept cutting me off..."
She smiled apologetically. "Fine, fine...I concede."
He couldn't resist now. "And you owe me."
She crossed her arms. "For what?"
"For putting me through an unwarranted investigation and interrogation." He punctuated his statement with the closing of his own locker door.
"All right. What do you want?"
"To come by your place. I want that stiff drink you were referring to."
She fingered a strand of her hair while she considered this. "You lied to me about the Stella thing. Don't I get anything?"
"A couple hours of my company." he offered, grinning.
"You're lucky I have a sense of humor." she grumbled, sounding very much reluctant. He knew she wasn't.
She had taken out a pen, and was scrawling her home address on his hand.
