Chapter 5 - Once Bitten Twice Shy
Bailey flinched as John swiped the swab soaked with antiseptic across the cut on the back of her head. She tried to pull away but he clamped a big hand on her shoulder, his grip tight, forcing her to sit still.
"Nice bedside manner you've got there boss," Bailey growled at him, anger clawing at her veins. She was more pissed off at herself for letting a stupid thing like this set her back. It was just a scratch, hardly life threatening, and yet she'd needed Stu to almost carry her out of the apartment block like a little kid.
"It's one of my better talents," he muttered with a smirk twisting his lips, swiping the swab against her head again, forcing another small whimper from her lips "Now would you sit still. The more you move, the longer this will take."
"Fine," Bailey gritted her teeth, blowing out a breath and gripping the side of the leather covered bed inside the first-aid room at the lab.
"Are you going to tell me how you got this gash then?" John muttered, rifling through the kit for the glue that they used to seal cuts up. Ideally, he'd have preferred to stitch her head up but he knew Bailey would never allow it, her fear of having needles anywhere near her body kicking in full force "Tip your head forward kid," John placed his hands on either side of Bailey's head, her chestnut locks now gathered on top of her head in a messy bun, kept away from the gash. Blood had already soaked into some of the wispy strands which hung down the back of her thin neck but John just moved them out of the way.
"Didn't that big brute tell you what happened?" she murmured back, doing as John asked and tipping her head forward. A twinge of pain went through her neck but she forced herself to keep still, to allow him to seal with the cut.
"Why are you so hard on him?" John asked, finally fishing out the tube of glue and unscrewing the cap "This might sting," he added squeezing the medicinal glue into the gash on her head.
"Thanks for the…ouch! Fucking hell John!" Bailey's first instinct was to jump away from him but that big hand was there on her shoulder, holding her squirming body still. Tears burned in the corners of her eyes as her skin began to knit together once more, the blood flow stopping as the gash sealed up. The brunette's back stiffened when she felt the soft breeze of cool air across the gash as John blew softly on her wound. His hand had moved from her shoulder and he now cupped her neck with both of his hands, holding her head in place as the glue set. Fumbling in the first aid kit for a plaster, John pressed it across her wound, keeping it covered from the air.
Moving around the bed, he came face-to-face with one of his former protégées.
"Now that you've done whining, answer my question?"
"Which one?" Bailey raised an eyebrow, chewing the inside of her lower lip, her hands still curled around the edge of the medical bed.
"Bailey," John sighed, shaking his head "Why the hell are you so hard on Stu? He's just looking out for you."
"More like sticking that nose of his in where it's not wanted. I don't need to be looked after. It takes me 7 minutes to run a mile; 9 when I'm in heels, I've caught some of the most infamous killers in this city," she hopped off the bed, scrunching her eyes shut as a wave of dizziness swept across her. Steadying herself, she opened her eyes to look at her boss once more "And I can shoot a bullet into someone's skull from 50ft away. I don't need to be looked after."
John let out a deep breath "You've got a very skewed perspective of how the world works kid," he shook his head at her "Look, I want you to go home and get some rest."
Bailey was already shaking her head at him, her eyes wide with surprise at being told to go home "No, I'm fine. I'll be fine John."
"I said, go home Bailey. I don't need you working with a head injury. You think I didn't pick up on little stagger there huh?" he grinned "Don't be a smart ass and just do what you're told for once in your life!"
"But-"
"No buts. You're not fit to be at work. Now, I've already asked Stu to drive you home," John held up his hand to Bailey when he saw the furious look etched on her face "I won't hear any more on it. Go home!" he narrowed his eyes at the younger Detective "Oh and take two of these and call me in the morning," he winked at her as he handed her two white pills - painkillers she guessed.
Bailey was furious as she left the first-aid room. How dare he treat her like such a child? He'd been mentoring her for so long but when was he going to realise that she didn't need him anymore? She was strong enough to stand on her own two feet; Erica was too, but John did not seem to understand that. No one understood that Bailey could take care of herself!
"Are you ready to go?" Stu's voice interrupted Bailey's meaningful thought path as she stormed through the lab. She stopped and spun around to see him standing just off to her left hand side. He had a look of worry etched on his face, like he was thinking something bad had happened. But a moment later, it was gone "John asked me to drive you home."
"I know he did," Bailey hissed "You'll know when I'm ready to go!"
Turning back around, she stalked off, knowing she'd find comfort in the only other place she could go; the shooting range.
"Guess what?" Stephen spun around on the stool he was perched on as he heard Erica's voice. She was walking straight towards him, a file clutched in her hand. "The fingerprints on the fire escape had no hits in AFIS, but they are a match to the finger prints found in the apartment."
"So it's the wife." Stephen concluded, not helping with Erica's frustration.
"Who else, but we can't prove that until we get our hands on her fingers!" Erica braced herself on the counter top, looking at all of the evidence spread out. She turned to Stephen who was staring at her with a sheepish smile. "What?
"Someone pissed yeh off?" Stephen asked; Erica's feisty side only usually came out when she had to question a perpetrator.
Erica took a steady breath, the amount of work she had on was overwhelming. Add in the fact tracing down Jennifer Thomas was becoming more and more difficult, things weren't getting better.
"Yeh alright?" Stephen's tone changed, now more concerned; he brushed his hand against Erica's back.
Nodding and letting her lips curve into a small smile, Erica said, "Yeah, I'm just tired."
"Yeh want to talk about it?" Thinking for a moment, Erica wondered if she should voice her thoughts out loud. How she didn't want to spend her nights alone in her apartment. Having Stephen spend the night at her place had left her wanting him more than she'd ever imagined possible. He'd held her tight and made her feel safe, making all of her worries go away.
"Maybe we could go out for drinks later?" Erica suggested, not wanting to discuss things in the confines of the lab. She stepped out of his reach and moved over to the table of evidence to set the file down.
"Alright, lass."
"Excuse me. I've got the evidence collected from the Aiden James case." Both Erica and Stephen turned around in surprise, not expecting to be joined by anyone else.
"Thanks Darren." Stephen hopped off the stool and took the evidence from the young man.
"Where's Bailey?" Erica asked, knowing that she had been assigned to search for evidence at Aiden's apartment.
"She's getting checked over."
"Whoa." Erica rushed over to Darren, stopping him from leaving the room. "What do you mean?"
"She hit her head, nothing too serious." Darren moved around the blonde woman, offering her a reassuring smile.
Erica turned to Stephen, wanting him to say something about the news. "Yeh know what this means."
"Stephen, do you think Bailey is okay?"
"He said she was." Erica huffed as she watched Stephen cross the room, inspecting what had been brought in. Shaking her head to rid her mind of any awful thoughts, Erica moved back to the evidence. Bailey was a tough girl; she'd be just fine.
She picked up a tube of reds lipstick, pleased that the sample she'd found on the fire escape was a match to that in the bathroom. "I think this is your colour." Erica grinned at Stephen from across the room. She expected him to laugh, but instead he just looked up, discomfort etched on his face. "What's wrong?" Erica swallowed hard as Stephen picked up something from his box of evidence.
Once in reach, Stephen took the tube of lipstick from Erica. She saw what was in his other hand and couldn't quite believe her luck. "It looks like these cases might be connected."
Stephen eyed the two tubes of lipstick and the photo clipped to the small evidence bag. Both the exact same brand and colour. The writing on the wall of the bathroom only sealed the deal. "Ah'm sorry, lass."
"It's not your fault." Erica smiled, moving away from the table of evidence. She knew that she was off the case; her relationship with Aiden in the past would be a conflict of interests. There were rules she had to follow and this was one of them.
"You know ballistics is my territory right?" Erica quipped as she walked into the small shooting range, watching Bailey push the magazine into the gun gripped in her hand without thought.
"I know." Bailey smiled, but it was a smile that was put on for Erica's sake.
"You seem to be in here a lot, you want to talk about anything?" Erica continued to press on, knowing to tread carefully. Having been friends for so long, she knew what would make Bailey snap and shut her out. "I spoke to Darren earlier. He told me you hurt your head. Are you okay?"
"I'm fine."
"You know Bailey, we have to communicate. Especially with our line of work, we don't want any crossed wires." Erica's words struck a nerve in Bailey. She wouldn't be guilt tripped into spilling her feelings.
"If I had something to tell you then I would." Bailey slipped the ear protectors on and shot a few rounds at the target. Sensing Erica wouldn't leave her alone, she set the gun and ear protectors down.
"Quit with the bullshit." Erica knew this was the only way she'd get something out of her friend.
"I banged my head and Stu helped me." Crossing her arms over her chest, Bailey watched Erica take in that information.
"That's all?"
"That's all." Bailey repeated, hoping it would shut Erica up for a little while at least.
"And why does that have you so crabby?"
Bailey scoffed, and shook her head at the ludicrous question Erica had thrown her way. "Maybe because it hurts like hell."
"Or because you let Stu help you." Erica smiled when she saw a flash of vulnerability behind Bailey's eyes. "I know you Bailey, and considering how you're acting with me right now, I can't imagine what Stu had to deal with."
Bailey's silence gave Erica all the answers she needed.
"I hoped you thanked him for helping you." Erica started towards the door, "Oh and I'm off the case so have fun working with Stephen."
The tension between Stu and Bailey in the car was palpable. Bailey was still seething that John had sent her home, especially because he'd asked the English brute to take her. She was perfectly capable of driving herself, she did not need someone holding her hand.
"How's your head?" Stu asked, keeping his eyes on the road.
"Still in one piece, thankfully," Bailey replied tartly. She definitely was not in the mood for small talk. She just wanted to get home.
"I see you've not lost your acid tongue. That's a good sign."
"What is your problem?" Bailey turned to him "Why are you constantly butting your nose into my business? It's as if you get a rise out of watching me get so angry."
"Don't flatter yourself sweetheart. If I wasn't the officer residing over these cases, then we'd have nothing to do with each other," Stu already knew he was lying through his teeth. He cared about her. When he'd seen the blood on her glove earlier, he'd been hit full force in the gut with worry, with a need to make sure she was okay. "Why do you always get so wound up Bailey? You're acting like a childish brat, all because Cena sent you home to make sure you're okay. Can't you accept that people care about you?"
"I don't need anyone mollycoddling me! I can take care of myself!"
Stu pulled the car to a stop, startling Bailey.
"We're here. You should get some rest. Call me if you need a ride to work and I'll come and get you," his words were monotone, as if he'd lost all interest in speaking to her at all.
Fear welled in Bailey's gut. If she couldn't fight with Stu, who could she get her anger out at?
Stu gripped the steering wheel with a white-knuckle hold. He was beyond pissed off at her. She was constantly boiling over at the slightest things. He could understand that she'd had a difficult morning; first with Erica's traumatic experience the previous night, Bailey wanted to be there for her friend but now her head injury was preventing that. But she hadn't even apologised or said thank you.
"Thank you," Bailey's words were barely more than a whisper. They burned in her throat as she forced them out, not really wanting to say them but knowing she had to.
"Excuse me?" Stu's voice rose an octave or two, startled at what she had said.
"I'm sorry," Bailey swallowed thickly "I know that you helped me when I hit my head. It's only fair that I thank you."
Stu was silent for a few moments before he answered her "How did that taste?" a smirk was pulling at his lips.
"Bitter!" she ground out, a smile tipping the corners of her own lips up "Which is why you won't hear it again," she laughed softly.
"Twice was plenty Bailey," he nodded at her "Would you like me to pick you up in the morning?"
Chewing the inside of her lower lip, Bailey nodded "That would be nice, thank you."
"Oh there it is," he teased "Another thank you. You better watch yourself sweetheart or you'll be making a habit out of this."
"In your dreams Bennett! What time do you start tomorrow?" Bailey enquired, pulling at the door lock to open the car door.
"I'm on another early start. I'll come and get you about 7 if that's alright?"
"That's fine. I'll see you then," Bailey got out of the car and closed the door. Stepping around the car and onto the sidewalk, she watched Stu drive away with a tiny wave of his hand out of his window. Smiling into the sunshine, Bailey made her way up to her apartment, retrieving her mail out of her mailbox first.
As she entered her apartment, she rifled through the letters, one in particular catching her eye.
'Department of United States Army' was stamped on top of it.
Her breath caught in her throat.
A/N – Thank you dashingbailey, ResplendentAnarchist and Lou221B for the reviews :) Karen and Lou x