5.
Kalinda backs off as the cops arrive. Truth be told, it's shady for her to be talking to Sophia in this context in the first place; to be present for Tariq Husayni's actual arrest by actual cops would be idiotic. She beats a hasty retreat to the restroom, a little surprised that she's breathing so hard, that her heart is vibrating. She shuts herself in a stall for a moment or two, but when she emerges again, she still looks scared in the mirror.
She texts Alicia with a shaking hand: "Got him. It's all right." She owes Alicia that much. She owes Alicia much more than that. Even this case, she's just fucking things up for Alicia at every turn. Not fucking up is the point of being Kalinda Sharma. She can't keep doing this. She hates Alicia.
The hatred surges up and for a second Kalinda can feel it in her fingertips, bubbling in her stomach, twitching in her calves. She ducks back into the stall certain she's going to be ill and grateful no one else is present, but she just hovers, sick.
Her phone buzzes. "Thanks," says the text from Alicia.
Kalinda sighs.
If she were the sort of person who did this sort of thing, she might well curl up on the tile floor. Screwing up this case in the first place was trying—it's not the sort of thing she usually does, and she knows Diane is right, that even exchanging a few words with Alicia would have called Cary's smooth move into question, prevented the disaster that almost doomed Jamel—but it's worked her way under her skin, where it's uncomfortable, itching.
Something about him felt familiar. Even when she was pressing Tariq Husayni's jaw against a barstool, that feeling rippled through her, that it could well be her own cheek shaking beneath her fingers.
Normally Kalinda can get into people's heads and escape unscathed. That's what she's always done, what she assumed she'd always do. But lately it seems like cases have been sticking to her. She doesn't like it. Normally she pops into the trial, just for a second or two, when she knows her contribution mattered—it's just nice to see what she's accomplished—but she won't be getting anywhere near this one. She doesn't want to see Tariq again, doesn't have any interest in the bloody photographs of Simon Greenberg's corpse.
Well, she can't let it get to her. She leans back against the wall and takes a couple of deep breaths, preparing herself to rejoin the world of the living. The cops will still be there, and likely Cary as well—she doesn't want to see him now, she's still irritated by how well he outplayed her—but it's a gay bar that's been around since the seventies, the place must have a fire door, the kind that leads onto an alley. Should be easy enough.
The door to the restroom swings open as she's about to grab the handle. Sophia grins broadly. "I was wondering where you got off to," she says. "That was kinda fun, don't you think?"
"Yeah." Kalinda forces a little smile. She's getting worse and worse at that.
"Reminds me of the good old days."
Kalinda can't recall working on even one case with Sophia before that bloody glove appeared on Alicia's desk a few weeks before. "Which good old days?" she says.
Sophia kisses her, hard and slow. "Those," she says, cupping the back of Kalinda's head with her hand. The air around Kalinda starts to hum with electricity. She slips her hands around Sophia's hips and pulls them roughly against her own.
"Oh," she says, kissing Sophia again. "Yeah."
/
The adrenaline and attraction don't wear off for a while, but as Kalinda grinds hard on Sophia's fingers, Sophia starts to notice an odd expression on her face. Kalinda is biting her lip so hard it seems like she'll draw blood, there's a tear streaking from the corner of her eye, she's breathing through her nose erratically, and her moans sound like all pleasure has long since been excised. "Okay?" Sophia asks softly.
"What?" Kalinda gasps in a sharp voice. She looks like she's simultaneously seriously injured and somewhere else completely. Sophia watches, her rhythm beginning to slacken.
Kalinda squints her eyes open. With one hand she grabs Sophia's wrist and tries to drive Sophia's hand harder into her. "Yeah," she chokes. "Yeah."
In a fluid motion Sophia snatches her hand away, inadvertently waving it under the automatic towel dispenser. The noise makes them both jump. Kalinda's eyes open fully, and she pushes her skirt down with both hands and looks Sophia over.
"What?" she says.
"You know what," Sophia answers curtly. Whatever it is Kalinda's doing, she wants no part of it.
"Sophia," Kalinda says.
Sophia crosses her arms and meets her eyes. "Kali."
Kalinda swallows loudly enough that Sophia can hear it, and her eyes dart around the room. And then she wilts under Sophia's glare, glancing sideways over a shoulder that's begun to slump forward. For a few seconds her whole upper body quivers, not with tears but as if the tension it's held until now is just too great. Sophia notices for the first time in many years just how small she is—the tiled walls seem to stretch around her, as though her presence barely makes a mark.
It's not Sophia's picture of Kalinda, and it's not pretty. It makes her think she's forgotten Kalinda, or that she never knew her. Some part of her wants to comfort the woman, but anything that she might have to offer would be useless, and anyway Kalinda wouldn't want it.
She watches as Kalinda turns towards the mirror, places her hands on either side of the sink, stares for a second into the basin. Then with her left hand she reaches into her jacket pocket and removes a tube of lipstick, which she reapplies in a smooth coat. Sophia sighs. "Something wrong?" Kalinda asks.
"No. I'll see you later." Sophia turns on her heel, reaches for the restroom door. She'd say it was a miracle no one's interrupted them so far, but then she realizes they're in the women's restroom in a bar that teems with gay men.
"I thought it was what you wanted," Kalinda says.
Sophia stops, but doesn't feel like looking at her. "In a manner of speaking," she says carefully.
"Right."
"Don't bullshit me, Kali."
There's a pause while Kalinda seems to consider this. Sophia still doesn't want to see her face, but she's surprised when Kalinda answers, in a voice that sounds choked from here, "Yeah. All right."
"I'll see you," Sophia says.
"I look forward to it."
Sophia shuts the door, knowing she just bore witness to something she never should have seen. There's a little twist low in her belly, a pang of something, but she decides to ignore it, as she doesn't see what she would gain by giving it attention. It's been a long day and it's time to go home, even to an empty apartment. Next time, it has to be someone uncomplicated. She liked the way that Cary kid was looking at her. A Florrick in the making, but a little cleaner-cut, a little more careful. That sounds good to Sophia, comfortable and safe.