A/N Thanks to Jennifer and Michelle. Thanks to all who read and review. It means a great deal.
Sara
I wake up and he's gone. He's always gone. I didn't expect much else, but for some reason, it still disappoints me every time. I can feel the stickiness of him between my leg and the scent of my sugar daddy It's a ritual: he leaves, I wash.
My bathroom light has always been too bright, and lately I hardly even bother to turn it on. Instead, I prefer to light one of the candles my mother sends me from prison. She's in a minimum security joint where they make stuff and sell it in gift shops all over California. My mother runs the candle making shop. My dad was wrong. She did find a use for all of her hocus pocus. Take that, you asshole.
She won't put me on the visitor's list. Says she doesn't want me to see her like that. I told her I don't care about that, I just want to see her. They might parole her in two years and I've promised myself that I'll have a place for us. It doesn't seem such a far off goal these days.
After the water in the shower warms up, I step inside. The water hits my skin and knocks the perpetual cold from my skin and bones. Gil says I should get checked for anemia. One thing at a time, I tell him.
I start singing. I don't have a great voice, but it's solid and melodic. It reminds me of my mother's and that scares me. But not enough to stop singing.
As I reach for the shampoo, I realize it is more expensive than anything I would have ever bought before. Mostly, I've used Suave, but Gil read the label and said one of the ingredients dries out hair like ours. So I switched. The conditioner is till Suave, but I am getting there. One thing at a time Sidle, one thing.
"Honey?" The voice scares me because it's a man's voice mingled with sounds of my mother's voice in my singing.
Coming back to my senses, I recognize it. "Gil, what are you still doing here?"
Steam mixes with his deep, shaky voice"I was wondering if it would be okay if I stayed? Feel free to say no. It won't change anything. I won't be angry. You deserve your space." His last phrases come out in a quick jumble that I can barely make out.
There it is then - space. I told myself I needed space. I always tell myself that. I don't want to end up in the state pen just because I need space. Would my mother have done what she did if she'd had space? Of course it's more complicated than that, but still...
"Are you okay?" I question. Gil is not one to let his guard down very much. He is very male in regards to control. He must believe, or have the illusion, that he controls the situation. The things you learn in a strip club.
"Fine. Look, Honey, forget I even asked. I had no ri-"
Is he kidding me? Of course he has rights.
"No! Stay!"Shampoo has bypassed stinging my eyes and is seeping into my mouth. I push back the shower curtain. I need to see his face. I need to see his eyes.
"You're okay? You aren't sick?"
His face is so handsome. It still startles me to know that it sorta belongs to me now. That's my face.
"I wouldn't saddle you with a sick man, Gorgeous."
"You could…you know."
He is staring at my waist. Not my bush or my breast, but my waist. The scar. Damn, I forgot. You can only see it when I get too hot or take a shower.
Gil
I should've gone home. I should've made myself coffee and slunk out while she slept or pretended to sleep. Can't do it tonight, though. The girl on the table. Her name was Debbie. She was 21. I think Sara is 22. She was pre-med, though her friends said she had decided to become a nurse; a pediatric nurse. She knew it was going to be hard, but she didn't care. She loved kids and someday she wanted a large family.
After Sara and I made love we dozed. I woke first and watched her, as usual. Before this case, the sooty eyelashes dancing across pale skin comforted me. That sharp chin, out of place on anyone else, until tonight. Sara's particular set of interesting, slightly off kilter looks had warmed me, until I saw Debbie Marlin dead on the floor of her bathroom.
She just a girl really, had a new boyfriend at the beginning of every term. He was her fourth boyfriend; if he could even be called that. Her routine involved breaking up with them during the semester break, just like she had this time, when school was out and it was less messy.
The alluring coed had gotten herself involved with an adjunct professor. I'm pretty sure he thought he was the aggressor There were no overt rules against their liaison. She wasn't Dr. Lurie's student; never had been. He didn't teach much and he still had a small, private practice. But he also worked to raise funds for the department.
Lurie probably thought he was different. He was older, settled, and he thought she just needed stability. He was a man not intimidated by her strong will and overt sexuality. She just needed someone to take care of her. And of course, there was the financial help he provided.
I nearly laughed at the almost identical situations as Brass explained the scenario. It's either laugh or cry right?
Dr. Lurie was prematurely gray, but the same age as I am. Sara had recently found a patch of quickly graying hair at the base of my neck. She assured me it was sexy with a giggle and a quick hug. Dr. Lurie had dated his fair share of women his own age. Sara had made some not so subtle references to my brief affair with Melinda and other rumors I refuse to confirm. He was brilliant. Sara thinks I'm brilliant. Yes, it's either tears or bravado.
Greg, my young assistant, pointed out the obvious as we collected evidence from the perimeter of the body. My "no shit" look shut him up. Greg is a working on his PH. D in Forensic Biology He's a first rate criminalist, but sometimes he just talks too much.
"Hey boss, she looks just like the girl at Melinda's. This is so weird. Are we sure it's not Sunshine?"
I had taken Greg to Melinda's a few times. The boy was very green and I'm pretty sure he's still a virgin. I know what it's like to be THAT guy: the smart guy who suddenly becomes the handsome guy. And then instantly the girls like him. You have all these opportunities, but you don't' know what to do with them. I figured the first step for Greg would be seeing a real naked woman. He goes on his own now, at lunch, when the show is still pretty good, but the expected tips are more in his budget.
There were no Japanese symbols across her abdomen. It wasn't Sara.
Even before seeing the dead woman, I did not want to go to her apartment. Not after Jim's description of the case. I did not want to see my life reflected in another. But no matter what I wanted, there was no way around it. In addition to my entomologist duties, I pinch hit as a general criminologist when the county staff is stretched thin. There were three homicides in a four hour period. Greg and I, much to his excitement, were up.
I called Sara on our way there, ignoring the quizzical look that Greg gave me. He wasn't used to seeing me on the phone.
"Hey," I said softly willing the edge in my voice to disappear.
"Where are you?" she said breathlessly. I could hear the door to her car door closing.
"On my way to a scene. You okay?"
"Fine," she said distractedly. I heard another female voice in the background. "Getting something to eat with Kelly."
Her new friend from school. She needs friends her own age.
"Okay, well, just checking..." I just needed to here her voice
I listened gratefully as she told her companion her food order.
"Call me when you get done, 'K?" she asked.
"Sure," I hung up the phone and directed my car and directed my SUV into the setting sun.
Looking at the ancient beams that ran overhead and the highly polished hardwood floors, Brass wondered if she'd come from money. I had seen her on the floor of her bathroom, her pretty head bashed in, blood matting pooling across the floor. I didn't need anyone to tell me about the dead occupant of this apartment. She was fun, sweet and perfect. There was some man; there would always be some man willing to pay. They'd pay for the gleaming hardwood floors, the sexy baubles, the natural light that accentuated her beauty and they would be happy to do it.
The men men in Debbie's life would pay for computers and books and school fees so she wouldn't leave.
And she'd keep him around, for a while. Maybe even for a while longer than the others. He might last a year, or hell, he might even make it two, until he was no longer useful or interesting or fun or suited for whatever need she'd picked him to fill. Then she'd trade up. Grissom surmised that the victim had probably started with a sweet, shy freshman, then realizing that she was much smarter than he was, she moved on to a sweet, good natured fraternity boy from first generation money. After that, there would be the less shy, but still vulnerable TA and finally the alpha male of college life, a professor. When she married, and girls like this always did, she'd marry a law student or a med student with infinite potential and very little past. She would have enough of a past for both of them In the end, Brass had found that the freshman had been a sophomore and the fraternity boy was actually a president of the most exclusive fraternity on campus. The TA was also a Dupont, as well as a minor member of the British royal family. The professor: a genius medical doctor who spent his free time working on a cure for cancer. It was all very literary.
The faculty claimed that she ruined the man. Cautious admiration kept them from calling her an outright slut, but the terms Mata Hari and Black Widow were dropped when talking about her. But he knew more than any of them. She had neither ruined him nor promised him anything. Debbie Marlin didn't lie. Dr. Lurie just didn't listen. It was clear what had happened within the first few hours of the case. Once they cataloged the bills she probably hadn't opened and most certainly could not have paid. Once they'd downloaded her voicemail and listened to the five messages Lurie had left (the last one somewhere between hysteria and rage). I knew exactly what had happened by the time Greg read the fourth email message aloud, shaking his head and commenting that he never wanted to get it that bad.
I hoped he'd never have it that bad either. You didn't ease into this kind of feeling. There would always be some kind of implosion. One could only hope to minimize the damage.
Lurie lives two miles away from me. I can't think what would happen if he ever sees Sara. He won't.
She's asleep now, snoring slightly (she does that when the air is too dry), one lean hand resting on the freckled skin of her waist and her sharp chin jutting out just a bit less than the other woman's. The mouth was the same though. It was coral and curved, impudently sloping softy towards the finger he ran across her lips.
Sara
He's really scaring me. Not to say I am scared of him, but he's got me in a death grip, his fingers digging into my shoulders first and then my sides. I tried to move away at first, but that seemed to agitate him even more.
This was not how I'd envisioned our first full night together, with him snarling and murmuring in his sleep. That case must've really shook him up.
"I'd never hurt her." He keeps saying that over and over again. I assume he's talking about me, but who the hell is he talking to?
"Never hurt her." He's louder this time, slurring the last of his words.
Hot breath warms the top of my scalp as he grins. "She's special. You don't under...so special. More than...anyone."
The heat of his breath is followed by the surprised sting of something wet. I manage to pull barely a millimeter away, and strain to see his face in the dark. Dawn's light illuminates the damp streaks that disappear into his five day old beard. He was going to shave it, but then I told him I like the scruff.
I pull my hand up and it brushes over his bare chest. He's talking again as my index finger wipes away one tear, and then two.
"Don't leave me. Never leave me. Whatever you want, just don't leave." His voice is gentle and desperate now. Not quite yelling, but close. It doesn't startle me as much as it should. I slide my body up a bit, so that we are lying face to face. His eyes are still firmly shut.
I kiss one eye, digesting the last of his tears. "Baby, I won't leave if don't want me to go. I won't"
TBC