Chapter Eight: At First Sight
Olivia
It's been a long day. Last night was good, not as good as having you, but a decent substitute. I lay in bed late in the night. I'm not sure when I finally fell asleep, spent from the memory of our first night together. Somewhere along the way my fingers became your fingers, and I remembered every scent, every touch, every kiss from that night… like it was happening all over again for the first time. The memory was so real, so vivid. I forgot it was my tan fingers teasing the place where yours should be. As far as my senses are concerned, they are your fingers, it's your hand between my legs not mine. At some point I fell asleep, exhausted... my dreams meshing with my imagination. wake up feeling fresh, the way it always felt to wake up next to you, one white hand resting on my breast, the other's fingers laced in mine. There are no hands to pry myself out of for my shower this morning. And I don't have to tiptoe to start your coffee. You're not here to risk waking. But it feels as though you should be… I roll naked from the sheets—I didn't stay awake long enough to actually put on my sweats last night. It's a nice change. If I close my eyes I can almost pretend you were here, that you got up early… left without waking me.
The rest of the day wasn't as kind as my wake up call. Novak is on our asses about the Patterson case still. Elliot has left the convincing to me and I tried again today to talk Sophie into pressing charges and testifying against her rapists. Her fear of being exposed is obvious. I can't help but think she'd be less frightened to be raped again. I know how you'd react to that statement. I can picture you sliding off the glasses of justice, shooting me that "get real" look you reserve for the times I'm being particularly petty. You've been at the front of my mind all day. I can't help but see myself in Sophie's fear. In her reluctance to be 'outed' by this tragedy. I can understand her reticence. From what she's told us about her life it certainly sounds like this would leave her stranded. Her family isn't as accepting as yours. They're even less accepting than my mom would have been. There's no don't ask don't tell policy for the Pattersons… because to them its not possible for their only daughter to be a lesbian. For them, lesbianism doesn't exist. I leave with same answer I gave Novak last time. She's not going to be happy. This time I'll tell her it's her turn to railroad the victim. I'm tired of answering to her demands. And I'm tired of badgering a girl who's not all that much different from me. Tired of badgering a girl who looks so much like you.
Alex
This has been the longest flight in history. Of course it would help if Hammond and his minions hadn't split the trip into about 8 different stops, on 5 different airlines. I can't wait to be rid of that man. If he tries to keep me from having time with just you… I'll—I'll shoot him with his own damn gun.
We hit turbulence and I grip my armrests. First class is all well and good, but they don't add extra shocks when they put in the individual video monitors. At least when they shipped me off to Oregon we went in stages… and drove. I'm a horrible flyer. Not with you of course. That trip to Greece was amazing… I hardly noticed the airplane. But I don't think our particular form of relaxation would work this time. You're not here, and I certainly don't want Hammond's hand up my skirt and under a blanket. So instead I grip my armrests, and try to focus on the music piping through my headphones. We're on the 5th flight and there are three more to go. I've been in more cities today than I've been in the rest of my lifetime—combined. I look over at Hammond and am rewarded with the infuriating sight of his closed eyes. He's fast asleep, just like he was on the last 4 flights. It's the only time I've ever seen the man close his eyes. In the airports he doesn't even blink. Always on the watch… although I don't know for what anymore. He keeps trying to tell me it's safe but he never looks like he believes it.
But I do. I believe it. I believe it's safe. Safe for me. Safe for us. I keep trying to picture your face when you finally see me. I called to tell you I was coming in February, but I didn't know when. I'm glad its now. If I play my cards right I can be here at least through Valentine's Day. I might have to fight Hammond for it, but I know I can win this one. It's easy enough to slip through the cracks in New York. Especially with your help. I imagine you'll have quite a bit of fun whisking me away from the watchful eye of the Federal Protection Bureau and our dear friend Agent Hammond.
He doesn't know it, but Agent Hammond almost got himself killed this morning. I don't know where he got the idea he could just walk in to my house, walk into my space without ringing the bell, without knocking. Without even pretending I had a right to some privacy. I was glad I closed the bedroom door last night before indulged myself in memory and imagination. At least he knocked when he got to the closed door. I wouldn't have wanted to try and explain my nudity, the covers I'd strewn across the floor. The picture of you I fell asleep with in my hand. Waking up with my other hand still dangling in the space I reserve for you. Hammond knows too much about my life as it is. He's lucky he knocked on the bedroom door. Otherwise he'd be walking around without eyes. Or a head.
I glare over at his sleeping form again, thinking of him sitting in my kitchen, watching me finish my packing, peeking at his watch. "Fascist," I whisper under my breath. I stick out my tongue in very 'Lexi' fashion, as you are wont to say when I'm being especially childish. I lick my lips, thinking about all the things I'd rather be doing with my tongue besides poking it at the resting form of my favorite federal agent. Suddenly I lose track of the turbulence… and I struggle to keep my memories tame. I can't afford to look disheveled today. And I don't want Hammond or his team to wonder exactly what I'm seeing as I close my eyes and lean back in my first-class seat. Three more flights. Just three more flights between me, and you.