I'm
really sorry for the constant long delays. I think my muse is
moonlighting somewhere else. Maybe that's why this story is turning
out to be so… well, odd. Twists and turns, left and right, and
here's another one. (Apparently I have a momentary dislike for following my plotlines...)
Thank you all so much for your reviews, you
get me hooked and I keep coming back for more:)
Love,
Jellicos
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Chapter
Five: Quid pro Quo
I couldn't tell her that it got to me to see that slut of a woman hitting on her. I couldn't tell her that it hurt when she told her that we weren't together. I preferred to let her think it was because the woman hit on her and not me, even thought it bugs the hell out of me that she would ever think that. But it bugs me even more that I can't deny my jealousy.
We're not together, and before today I honestly hadn't considered it either. Was that what I wanted? All I know is that hearing her saying that got to me and I didn't like it at all.
I should go and apologise, she really didn't do anything wrong. Only I can't for the life of me come up with a good explanation as to why I reacted like I did. Actually, I can't justify it even to myself and it scares me because I know perfectly well what that means.
I bury my face in my hands as it washes over me; I have feelings for Sara Sidle. Shit, this is so not my day. Damn her and that music box! If it wasn't for that damned thing I never would have even entertained the thought that Sara meant more to me than just a co-worker. An attractive co-worker, but still nothing more then that.
Instead of doing what I know I should, I bury myself in the evidence before me, paying close attention to anything that could solve this case quickly and hence end all future contact with the trashy brunette from a few hours ago.
It doesn't look good though. From Sara's notes I can see that the girl swore she was never in Mr Garret's den, but her fingerprints were found in his file cabinet. In fact, all evidence so far seems to be pointing in one direction. I'll have to call Brass, get the girl in here.
"Hey Catherine?" I look up at the sound of her voice, cursing myself for noticing how snugly that top fits her.
"Yeah." I exhale, throwing away the paper in my hands so it lands on top of far too many others just like it.
"Brass brought the girl in and I'm on my way to talk to her now." Is she kidding? What the hell?
"Excuse me?" I ask, pulling my glasses from my nose and standing up. She can't be serious.
"You got my page didn't you?" She wasn't kidding; she actually went behind my back to get a chance to talk to the little slut again!
"You don't bring someone in without checking with me first Sara; I have seniority on this case, what the hell…" She cuts me off! Oh this is war!
"It's a slam dunk case! I paged you, you didn't get back to me, I just thought with what happened before…" My turn to cut her off.
"Don't even...!" I trail off. "You don't go behind my back! You don't bring someone in without asking me first! And you sure as hell don't use the lab to get laid!" Ok, so I may have taken it a little too far there.
"What?!" Ok, she's pissed; I should probably say something less mean. "That's rich coming from you." Ow, that hurt. She's leaning against the doorframe, arms wrapped around her like she's shielding herself against attack. That's a good strategy right now.
"What's your problem Sidle?" I ask advancing on her because I know it makes her nervous. "That I'm on to you or that I can get a date without bringing them in on charges?" I see the hurt quickly flicker over her eyes before she straightens up, towering over me. Her hands are shaking slightly with the adrenaline and her eyes are so dark they're shooting daggers at me.
"Yeah, because you have the best track record ever." She scoffs as she leans closer to me. "How many of your old flings have ended up in our interrogation room, huh?"
"Go to hell." I hiss before turning away from her, the knock on my door couldn't have come at a better time.
"Ladies, your suspect is waiting…" Brass' head pokes in the door and he looks a little confused as he looks from Sara to me. "Something going on?" He asks cautiously.
"No, let's go." I answer curtly before Sara gets a chance, grabbing my purse and jacket before pushing past them both. If she thought I wouldn't be watching this entire interrogation she's insane.
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I can't believe I'm doing this. I'm insane; I've gone around the bend… twice.
Tracy Hogan is casually leaned back in the cold metal chair, her eyes never leaving Sara who looks completely unaware of Ms Hogan's poorly skilled flirting. I might have added the 'poorly skilled' comment, but then, anyone who'd witness this display would agree with me. I'm pretty sure.
My frustration is evident as I pull my fingers through my hair for the second time in the past thirty seconds. This is taking too long.
"Aw, common, you're telling me you never wondered what was in those big locked file cabinets?" I hear Sara's voice coaxing from the other side of the one-way mirrored glass. I'm sure we're wasting our time, there's no way Miss Bimbo over there would ever have the brains to pull off a double murder like this.
When my phone rings, I take a deep breath before answering it, less my frustration shows too much.
"Willows." I am irritated though not very surprised at how impatient my voice is.
"How much do you love me?" Oh good god, I'm so not in the mood for one of Greg's guessing games tonight.
"Spill it Sanders." I say, restraining myself from verbally abusing the poor kid who did nothing wrong except have a bad timing. He pauses for a moment, undoubtedly trying to assess the danger of continuing his game. Thankfully he seems to decide on staying in one piece today.
"I just got done with the bullet you guys collected from the vic's house." Ok, is everyone around here unsure of what the hell they're supposed to be doing?
"What are you doing with the bullet?" This is a very odd day.
"Bobby found some trace on it and sent it over. Blood more precise." Well, gee, that's unusual.
"So? There were two gunshot victims in the house." He didn't call me just for this, did he?
"It's not the victims' blood." Oh, now we're getting somewhere.
"You got a match?" I ask, ignoring how hopeful my voice just got.
"Same donor as from the harness; Tracy Hogan." Yes! We got her.
"I really do love you Greg." I smirk, I'm in a good mood and he deserves it. Just once.
"Yeah, yeah, I know." I can practically hear him blushing.
"Thanks." I offer and flip my phone shut before opening the door to the interrogation room. Little miss flirts-a-lot isn't too happy seeing me, but I couldn't care less right now, she's going down.
Sara looks ready to stop me from making a scene before I lean down and whisper the results of Greg's tests in her ear. I take my time and I pretend it's because it makes our suspect irritated, but really it's because I like the scent of her soap.
I can see Sara's eyes twinkle as I pull back a little and a tingle goes down my stomach as I see her gaze resting a second too long on my lips. She doesn't smile, doesn't give anything away, and I make my way out the door to my safe location behind the tinted glass, feeling slightly light-headed.
The feeling doesn't last long, and after Sara has confronted the suspect with our findings I find a shill making its way down my back. Tracy's desperate and awkwardly sexual exterior vanishes in front of me and grows cold and hard. Again Sara makes no sign to indicate she's even noticed the change, but I can see her jaw tense.
"…what I still haven't figured out is how your blood got on the bullet." She says, arranging her papers before looking up into the now expressionless face of Ms Hogan.
"You really want to know?" Her voice sounds scornful, angry, as if the world has made her its scapegoat and now Sara's the only representative of that world she can take her frustration out on. I should pull her out, we got what we needed, and this could get bad.
"Yeah, I do." Sara leans her arms on the table and I know that look on her face, she wants to know, she wants closure and I'm going to be ready to send five officers in there on a split seconds notice.
"Quid pro quo Sara, a question for a question." She doesn't have to do this. I look over at Brass who is standing in the far corner of the room, his eyes never leaving the suspect but right now I'd feel more at ease if his hand was on his gun instead of crossed over his chest. He doesn't look worried though, so I decide I'm overreacting.
"You first. How did you blood end up on the bullet?" She's not budging. Tracy lifts up her hand and wiggles her fingers around in the air.
"I'm not very used to firearms; they're much more difficult to load than you'd think." She holds up her thumb, indicating the tiny cut on it. How did I miss that? Oh, right… I was busy being jealous. Wait, pissed! I meant pissed! I was busy being pissed off. Oh crap, who am I kidding?
"My turn." Tracy sits back, smirking. "Are you and blondie dating?" Ok, how is that relevant?
"You already asked me that, and my answer hasn't changed." Sara holds her ground, but her eyes make a detour to the table.
"So, that would be a no." Good deduction Sherlock.
"Yeah, that would be a no. Why did you kill them?" Does she sound angrier?
"Callie couldn't keep her fat nose out of other people's business." She spat out. Oh my, a crack in the wall of cool?
"Callie?" Sara looked through her papers quickly. "Mrs Garret?"
"Yeah." She scoffed, her fingers tapping furiously against the metal of the table. "She just had to go snooping around, couldn't just leave it alone."
"What did she find?" Sara was getting sucked in and she knew it.
"That was another question." She smiled wickedly.
"Alright, shoot." I could see the frustration building in her and Brass was casting glances at me through the mirror glass. We would have to stop this, and soon.
"You find her attractive?" She asks and Sara looks confused.
"Who?"
"Blondie." She clarifies and I can see a slight reddening of Sara's cheeks. Ok, maybe not quite so soon.
"She's beautiful; anyone with eyes could see that." She shrugs and I can't help but smile. Yeah, I know I'm easy on the eyes, but its different coming from Sara. I bite my lip to force myself to back away from that line of thinking, at least for now.
"That's not what I asked you." Tracy says a gleam in her eyes.
"She's attractive." She states as if she'd just been asked the time. "Now what did Mrs Garret find that made you shoot her and her husband?"
"Well, Jason was just in the way, the bastard had to play a hero." She almost laughs at the last part, the cold amusement in her voice making me feel sick to my stomach.
"You didn't answer my question." Sara reminds her.
"That she had the nerve to pretend to be morally superior after what we'd done together was laughable." She didn't laugh however. "But once she found out, she confronted me about it, waving the stupid report in my face, telling me how sick I was. You think I'd take that from someone like her?" Her face contorted with rage and hatred.
"What did she find?" Sara asked again.
"I get to ask one more question first." Tracy says, testing the ground.
"Fine." Sara sighs. No, not fine! I want to smack her over the head. She just gave away her upper hand! But Tracy is smirking like never before.
"Do you dream about her at night?" Oh.my.god. Sara, get out of there now.
"Excuse me?" She's torn between wanting to know and realising she's being played.
"Blondie, do you dream abo-" She doesn't get to finish, seems like Brass had the same thoughts I had.
"Alright, we're done here." He says, gesturing for the uniform at the door to take Tracy back to her cell. Me, I'm being torn between relief and the slight disappointment at not hearing Sara's answer to the question.
"You did good in there." Is the first thing I say when she walks into the little backroom where I've been listening all this time.
"She played me." I'm not sure if she's embarrassed or angry, either way she's not meeting my eye.
"We got what we needed." I remind her with a soft squeeze of her upper arm. Her eyes jump up to where my hand meets her arm. "Case closed." She nods her head and finally looks up at me.
"We should head back." She says, a small smile playing at her lips.
"Here." I say as I toss her the keys to the car. She looks down at them, then at me.
"You… want me to drive?" She asks so incredulously I have to smile.
"Your reward for closing the case Sidle. Don't let it get to your head." I say as I make my way past her to open the door.
"Gee, breakfast would have killed you?" She teases as we make our way out of the room and through the police station. Sometime we'll have to address the fact that we seem to constantly hurt each other verbally, but right now we're both too high on our victory.
"Depends…" It's now or never, and I'm feeling particularly good right now.
"Depends on what?" She asks as we walk through the doors out to the parking lot.
"On your answer to Tracy Hogan's question. Do you dream about me at night?"
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Oh, I know, but it wouldn't be very characteristic of me to leave you without an evil cliffie, would it:)
