"It's kind of a mess right now. I've just been so busy lately, and as much as I love Scott, he's not exactly a neat freak"
"I resent that!" He called from the bathroom where he was brushing his teeth.
Ryan laughed. This is how it's supposed to be. We don't even have to talk about the kiss; we know how it is.
"I don't know what you're talking about, Ben; this place is immaculate. Are you maybe a little OCD?" He said with a laugh.
"Are you kidding me? She wrote the book on obsessive compulsive behaviour. Literally. I've read parts. It's pretty good. If you're into psychobabble." Scott came out of the bathroom, tucking in his shirt.
Ryan shot Benny a questioning glace.
"Oh, really now?" He meant it as a joke; he himself had quite the case of OCD. But Benny's face was bright red. She bowed her head as she adjusted a plate on the table.
"I'm not that bad." She almost whispered. Ryan smiled and put an arm around her.
"Your books are arranged by size. Your C.D.'s are in alphabetical order by artist." He kissed her forehead. "Takes one to know one." He whispered softly. She smiled at him. We're a match made in heaven. Most guys shy away from girls with OCD like we're control-freaks. Ryan's apartment is probably even neater than mine.
They were interrupted by the door buzzer, and from there the night only got more hectic. But it was one to be remembered. Calleigh and Eric arrived together, Calleigh having lost a match of rocks, paper, scissors, and being assigned the role of Designated Driver. Natalia came around shortly thereafter, soon followed by Dan, and a handful of friends from Harvard who Scott had persuaded into coming.
A moment's glance between Benny and Ryan when Calleigh and Eric arrived told them in an instant that, as co-workers, both relatively new, they would keep the details of their relationship private for the time being. And so, throughout the evening, they would find ways to subtly and discreetly display their affection. When Scott brought out the Boston cream pie, decorated with twenty-one burning candles, and Benny leaned in to blow them out, Ryan braced her with a single gentle hand on her waist and she replied with a secretive glance.
He is such a good kisser.
When she handed him his wine, her hand lingered on the cool glass for just a moment longer than necessary, their skin just barely touching, but more than enough to remind them of the embrace they had shared only a few hours previously. People ate, drank, mingled, and generally enjoyed themselves until just past two o'clock in the morning, when the last guests left, leaving Benny and Ryan alone in the living room, Scott having retired to bed, a little inebriated but unwilling to admit it.
"So that was a nice party," Ryan said conversationally. "You're getting pretty popular with everyone, huh?" Must be nice. Benny knew that he was trying to hide his jealousy; he had been working with these people for a few years now, and still had failed to gain their respect, let alone their friendship. Benny had been there only two weeks, but they had all come to her birthday party, and even brought gifts!
"Yeah, they're nice people." She kissed him lightly. "You're still my favourite, though."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah, other than Eric." She shot him a teasing glance. "You've got to admit; the man is sculpted like a Mayan god." My God, I'm flirting! Yep, she's still got it.
"A Mayan god, huh? I guess I'll just be leaving then." Ryan stood up in mock-frustration. Benny tugged at the bottom of his shirt and brought him back down onto the couch. He kissed her for a long time, and then sighed. "So…what's the story, Wishbone?"
"What's the story on what?" She raised an eyebrow.
"Us. What exactly are we telling people? And when? And how?" He tried to sound casual as he traced the pattern on her skirt with one finger.
"Well…we are co-workers." She frowned. "And new. And young. I don't know that I want to give anyone any more reason to doubt our professional credibility, at least until…" She faded off.
"Until we know that this is going somewhere?" He spoke her mind with conviction and surety. No sense in pretending I wasn't thinking the same thing.
"No point in ruining two perfectly good careers over a potentially dead-end relationship." Ryan shot her a surprised look. "I'm just saying we should hold out until we know that it's worth the risk to let people know." I probably could have worded that better.
"Ben, I couldn't agree more."
It was another five days before Ryan noticed that he and Ben had identical handedness; they were among only 15 of the population that was left-hand dominant. He was walking past the break room, and as he looked in, he saw her sitting at the table, looking over a case file and scribbling notes furiously with her left hand. Amused, he opened the door and sat beside her.
"I didn't know you're a lefty." He gave her his most winning smile.
"Yeah, 15 of the population, right." She didn't even look up at me.
"Tough case?" She was clearly frustrated, running her right hand through her curls in a way that would have been even more gorgeous if she weren't so obviously discontented.
"Yeah, it's the, uh…washing machine…case. It just doesn't fit, Ryan." She threw her pen down and rested her chin in her hands.
"Mind if I take a look?"
"Be my guest. All the evidence fits together--the spatter on the walls, the knife we found is consistent with the vic's wounds, the shoe prints tell us that the victim was killed and dismembered in the kitchen, and dumped in the laundry room in the back. But one thing doesn't make sense to me."
"Which is?"
"I've seen a few cases with dismembered bodies, and in each one, it was done to hide the crime. Why go to the trouble of cutting up a body if you're just going to dump it in the…washing machine?" She cringed at the memory.
Ryan frowned. She's right; this is tough. "Alright. You just killed me in the kitchen. You hate me enough to cut up my body--not very neatly, but still--into small pieces. Then, you…throw me in the washer?"
"Exactly. Why would I do that?" She sighed. We're never going to figure this out.
"Maybe you planned to. Maybe you were…interrupted?" Easier said than proven.
"Wait…Ryan…you're a genius!"
"Huh?"
"I found a package at the scene. Someone signed for it an hour after the vic's T.O.D. and, as we all know--"
"Dead men don't sign for packages."
"Exactly. So I'm thinking the killer got interrupted by the FedEx guy, which made him nervous, which made him just ditch the body and run off."
"To the FedEx guy we go."
"Ryan…you're brilliant." She looked at her watch. "And you even wrapped it up in time for lunch!"
"Want to go grab some Mexican?" He asked her.
"Sorry, babe, I have to practise Tae Kwon Do. I have a class tonight and I don't want to get shown up by all the little kids."
"You do Tae Kwon Do? Man, I learn something new about you everyday." They were now walking in the direction of the locker room. "It's funny, because…I just so happen to be a black belt." He smiled at her proudly.
"No way! I just got mine! Want to practise with me?" It's amazing how much we have in common.
"Oh, I don't know, Ben. I mean, don't take this the wrong way, but I don't really like to fight girls." Especially girls I'm falling for.
"Oh, come on, Ryan." She gave him the eyes. "I'm not taking no for an answer. I'll meet you in the gym in ten minutes."
"Ben!"
"Loser cooks dinner for a week. And you know I've picked up some tricks from Scott." That'll get him. The best way to a man's heart is through his stomach. Or is it his wallet?
Ryan sighed. "You're on. Gym in ten minutes."
"You just can't resist my charm, can you!"
What have I gotten myself into?
Half an hour later, Ryan Wolfe lay, winded, on a gym mat in the Department fitness centre. It had been a good match; they were both accomplished Tai Kwon Do fighters. But in the end, though he outweighed her by at least thirty pounds, Benny was faster, more agile, and knew how to use the weight she had to throw him down repeatedly.
"I'm out."
"I know." She gave him her hand to help him up. Overcoming the most basic male instinct of pride, he took it and stood up. They bowed to each other in traditional martial arts style, and walked together to the water fountain.
"You're pretty strong, though. You've got a mean Sitting Horse." She was referring to the defensive stance which allowed the fighter to bring up all the strength from their base and project it through their arms.
"Benny, you kicked my ass. And that's OK. I'm a secure man." She could tell from his tone and body language that he wasn't being passive aggressive. I won, and he's alright with that. Talk about one in a million. Before the elevator reached the sixth floor, she kissed his cheek, her lips lingering on his skin just long enough for him to know that she did not respect him any less for having been beaten by a woman.
"I guess if I have to get beaten by a girl, it might as well be my girlfriend." He didn't even realize that he had used the word until a moment after it came out of his mouth and Benny looked at him in awe. They had not officially determined the status of their relationship, and for him to define it in explicit terms was unexpected, especially given the men she had experienced in her lifetime, the likes of whom enjoyed toying with her emotions by never quite expressing what was going on. But the doors of the elevator opened, forbidding her to inquire as to his use of the sacred word.
"Hey, Wolfe, how are you feeling?" Dan Cooper, of all people. Dan Cooper is going to make fun of me for getting beaten by a girl. At least I know I can take him out. Probably.
"I'm fine, Cooper, I'm just looking for the results of my cell phone trace."
"Right. Here you go, Sensai." He laughed as he turned back to his computer screen.
Laugh all you want; I'm cooking that girl dinner tonight.