I know, it's shorter, but I promise it'll keep you hooked. Enjoy. :)
Sara Sidle lazily drifted through the lab halls with her hands in her pockets. She behaved indifferently toward the issues arising around her as she thought of only one thing: killing the bastard that took it upon himself to climb onto Catherine Willows, one of her respected colleagues.
She replayed the images in her head like flashes of a bad dream come back to haunt her, hoping for some insight and receiving none. She clenched her fists in her pockets as she headed into the new supervisor's office to regain perspective on the present rather than search for it in the past. When she saw the thin, gangly, white haired man sitting at his desk, the name D.B. Russel etched onto his name plate, she unclenched her fists and sucked in a large burst of air through her nose.
"Oh, good, Sara...just the person I wanted to talk to," the man waved her further into his office.
"I know. That's why you sent me a text, right?"
He smiled at her as he stood.
"Take a seat."
She slowly released the air she'd previously sucked in with a sigh and slid into one of the visitors chairs in front of his desk.
"I wanted to talk to you about something," he started as he leaned against the front edge of his desk. "What happened the night of the shooting..."
She rolled her eyes.
"Look, I don't know what everyone wants from me involving that night, but I did what I thought was necessary."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa. I'm not trying to beat facts out of you. This isn't an interrogation. ...I just wanted to ask...is Catherine okay?"
Sara relaxed as her boss stared at her with sincere concern and cluelessness.
"Yeah...I mean, there's still something she's not saying about that night, but she's ready to come back to work. Her body isn't, though."
"Okay. ...Good. Uh, listen, will you keep an eye on her? I don't like thinking one of our own is benched and wants nothing more than to work through whatever's going on that we don't even know about."
"I'm already looking out for her," she flatly confessed with slight embarrassment.
He stared at her for a moment, sizing her up as a way to get inside her head for a moment. He couldn't read her, but he took his chances and let it go.
"All right. Then we've got everything under control. Now, I don't want you working any serious cases, especially so soon after the incident."
"What? It's been over two weeks! Besides, I wasn't the one that was abducted."
"Yes, but you shot a man. That doesn't just go away. And I've had you on desk duty for the past two weeks, which clearly doesn't maximize your potential and I really want to utilize this team for the hand full of cases recently reported."
"So...I'm benched now, too?"
"Yeah," he said slowly as though he didn't understand how she couldn't have gotten the message the first time.
"That's bullshit! What am I supposed to do?"
"Well, Catherine's on bed rest...go help her out, keep her from busting open another stitch."
Sara's eyebrows jumped into her hairline.
"Word gets around," he calmly said as he swiftly gravitated toward the office door.
She furrowed her brows and slowly, awkwardly, got out of the chair and followed the man out. She blew out a sigh and shook her head out of frustration as she made her way to the front door. Her boss went in the opposite direction without a care about her, which left Sara with nothing.
As she approached her car in the lot, she pulled out her phone and checked the time.
11:34pm, she read in her mind before she rolled her eyes. Great.
She slid into her personal car and slowly made it out of the parking lot. She drove toward her apartment and wiped her hand over her face as a way of calming herself down.
It didn't work.
As she pulled into her apartment building's parking lot, she couldn't help but feel useless. She didn't know what she was suppose to do when her sleep schedule involved staying up all night to solve crimes.
She thought about what her boss suggested, but didn't want to disturb Catherine. She knew the redhead could take care of herself and, even through her pride about being good enough to work, she was probably knocked out from all the excitement of the night before when she came into the lab.
Instead, Sara walked into her apartment and picked up her home phone. She dialed a number she hadn't dialed in a few weeks and listened to the line ring.
"Hello," a familiar voice answered.
She forced a smile to convince herself the sound of the other person's voice made things better, but she still knew what happened to her at work only ten minutes ago and that voice just won't cut it.
"Hey," she attempted to sound cheery. "I didn't catch you at a bad time, did I?"
"No. I'm glad you called. What's going on?"
She took a deep breath and sighed as she felt tears forming in her eyes.
"Gil... I don't know what to do," she tried her hardest to keep her voice even and hold back her tears.
"What's wrong," he flatly asked, though there was a hint of concern in his undertone.
"Two weeks ago...I shot a man who had abducted Catherine. ...I keep thinking about it and I don't understand."
"Don't understand what?"
"I don't...It's just...the things I felt...before I shot him," she started to explain. "There was all this anger, rage. I...I don't know."
She heard noises in the background on the other end and slowly closed her eyes as she let out a small sigh.
"I'm sorry, Sara. Continue," he gently urged her.
"No, it's okay. Get back to them. That's Gerald, Tom, and Richard, right?"
"Yes."
"Focus on the research. You could use another grant. I'm just tired."
"Are you sure? You don't sound okay."
"I'm fine, Gil," she forced herself to sound somewhat happy. "Go. I'll talk to you later."
"Okay. I love you."
"I love you, too."
She hung up and wiped away a tear before it fell. She took a long, deep breath and grabbed her keys off the counter. She walked out the door and locked it behind her. By the time she jumped into her car, she had a look of determination on her face. She was committed.
She turned over the engine and took off, speeding away into the late night.
I tossed and turned for several hours as I tried to sleep, but I didn't have any luck. The only luck I did have was reopening the same stitch I busted the other day.
I cleaned up the blood and applied pressure for a while as I sat wide awake in my living room, watching television. I sighed as I blankly stared at the screen until I could call the doctor to patch me up again.
I looked at my cell phone on the coffee table in front of me and frowned. Sara told me I could call her if I needed anything, but I knew she would be busy at the lab. I didn't want to bother her and I liked to believe I had too much pride to always need someone to take care of me.
I took a beep breath and released it with a heavy sigh. I leaned forward and gritted my teeth through the light pain as I grabbed the phone. I searched through my list of contacts and stumbled upon the one name I shouldn't have kept in my contact. I gasped and held my breath as my thumb hovered over the call button. I knew I shouldn't call, but I couldn't stop myself. When it came to that number, I knew I would get what I needed.
My thumb punched the button and instantly, the phone started ringing. I finally exhaled and then closed my eyes in order to relax.
"Hello," the all too familiar voice groggily answered.
"Hey, it's Catherine. I'm sorry to wake you, but... I was hoping you would come over. ...I tore a stitch and I need some company until the doctor's office opens."
"I started getting dressed the minute you said 'hey'."
I smiled and hoped the phone call would solve my problems, at least for the time being until I could properly deal with everything that's rattling around in my brain.
After fifteen minutes of losing my mind to boredom and mindless, middle-of-the-night television, I heard the knock on the door I imagined would change my life all over again.
I stood up and hurried to the front door, my hand pressed to my stomach the entire way. When I opened the door, I smiled as he immediately met my eyes and displayed his concern though his sleepy disheveled appearance.
"Are you okay," he firmly asked, his tone heard as a musical cadence.
"Yes. I'm...I will be. I just couldn't watch the 700 Club anymore," I laughed with exhaustion.
He flashed a small smile and I stepped aside as a silent invitation for him to come inside. He accepted and eased his way through the threshold.
"Do you want something," he started as he made his way toward the stairs, but stopped to turn and look at me. "I can make you tea, get you some water, rub your feet."
I lightly laughed, which forced me to press harder on my stomach as it caused more pain for me to laugh.
"I don't need anything, but you seem to need something. What's going on with you, McQuaid?"
He puffed out a sigh.
"I know we agreed to to keep our personal lives to ourselves so we won't get too attached, but...I tend to push people away. I pushed my fiancee away after she was attacked and...I lost her."
I furrowed my brow .
"What do you mean?"
He took a deep breath before he began.
"I was working late trying to catch a serial killer and that I'd be another hour tops, trying to find his next target even though I knew I'd still come home empty-handed no matter if I left then or an hour from then.
When I got home, it was eerily quiet, but I figured she was asleep. I went upstairs, did my usual late night routine, and when I got to the bedroom...I heard sobbing. I peaked around the corner into the bathroom and saw her crying on the floor. She was bruised and soaking wet. She told m...she told me she had been raped. I couldn't look at her let alone take care of her when she needed me.
She tried to get help...but I wasn't there for her and...and she took her life."
My jaw slowly dropped, lips parted.
"So if you want me here...even just to keep you company...I'm here for you."
He stared at me with all seriousness in his heart and mind.
"Oh...wow. ...Well, uh, thank you."
I didn't know how else to respond.
"Uh...look. I just...need someone to watch TV with me right now-"
"Good. I'm good at that," he smiled.
I smiled back and shut the door before we headed to the living room. I continued to hold my stomach as the two of us took a seat on the couch.
"So...do you really just want to sit here and watch this," McQuaid smiled with a hint of laughter.
"No," I blushed. "But all my movies are in that container...across the room."
I pointed at the clear box tucked under the moderately sized entertainment center.
"Well," he said as he stood up. "Allow me to help you with your selection."
He pulled out the container and popped open the lid.
"Huh. Not a lot of selection beyond chick flicks," he chuckled as he looked between the container and me.
"What do you expect? I'm a chick," I grinned.
He smiled and shook his head before he stared into the container again.
"Well...I'm personally a fan of this one," he dug one of the cases out of the bottom of the container.
My jaw dropped, but the corners of my mouth still curled upward.
"Really," I said with disbelief before I grinned again.
He laughed and put it in the DVD player while I pressed the Input button on the remote control. When I saw the DVD player's home screen displayed, he took his seat next to me, his arm then around my neck. I took a deep breath and cuddled into his side. He ran his hand up and down my arm and I felt myself relax.
Why didn't I feel this way with Lou, I thought. He is my boyfriend after all and Agent McQuaid is only someone I slept with once.
"Why don't you sleep," he suggested. "I'll wake you."
I smiled as I closed my eyes for a moment.
"I don't trust you with the responsibility," I confessed.
"And why is that," he laughed.
"Because...you'll take one look at me and think I look too peaceful."
"You're right. I would do that," he smiled. "But you need that fixed."
I followed his hand with my eyes as he pointed at my wound. As he pulled his hand away from my stomach, I turned my head and looked at him. When our eyes met, I knew there would be trouble.
For a moment, he and I stared at each other, nothing said or done. In that moment of silence, I melted like hot ice cream into his arms. I felt myself slipping away, into the place I had slipped into before I slept with him the first time.
He slowly leaned in, his eyes still focused on mine until we were only a few inches away. His eyes flickered to my lips and then met my gaze again before we touched. I felt electricity course through me as the pressure of his lips on mine sent a shock wave down my spine. I forgot about the pain in my abdomen when he put one hand on my cheek and the other on my hip. His tongue slithered over mine and a rush of heat flooded my lower extremities.
Ding. Dong.
I drew in a quick breath as I pulled away from him.
As far as I knew, it wasn't Lou's day off, but there had been times in the past when he surprised me with a romantic visit. Being with Agent McQuaid at that time, I hoped it wasn't Lou at the door.
"You should probably get that," McQuaid said as the sheer sound of his baritone voice snapped me out of my thoughts.
"Right," I said as I looked from the door to him. "Guess I should."
I eased my way off the couch and felt the pain in my stomach return. I pressed my hand to the origin of my discomfort and proceeded to the front door.
As I reached for the handle, I took one last calming breath before yanking open the door to destruction.
"Sara?"
"Catherine! You're home," she slurred as she failed to stand still and hold herself upright.
"What are you doing here," I asked in disbelief as I came to the definite conclusion the she was drunk.
"Russell told me to go home," she slowly said and continued to slur.
"Well, this isn't your home," I tried to explain.
"I know that, silly. He told me to take care of you."
"Sara-"
"Is everything all right," McQuaid asked as he walked toward me.
"Uh, yeah-"
"Hey," Sara smiled. "I know you. You're that FBI guy that worked with us on that case a few weeks ago."
"Yes," he smiled at her before he looked back at me.
"You were always talking to Cat," she pointed at me. "You were flirting with her. ...Shame on you! She's got a boyfriend, you know."
He pursed his lips and dug his hands in his pockets.
"What are you doing here with her anyway," she asked.
I apologetically looked at him then looked back at Sara as she leaned against the door frame.
"I'm gonna go," he said to me.
I nodded and stared down at my feet.
"It was nice seeing you again, Sara," he said as he squeezed past her on his way out.
"Bye," she rudely said before she stumbled inside.
I grabbed her by her wrists and pulled her upright as she continued to fall forward.
She ran into me and the weight of her body pushed me back a few steps as I took one last look at McQuaid. He looked over his shoulder while I maneuvered Sara to my side and wrapped an arm around her waist to support her.
When he looked forward again as he approached his car, I sighed and shut the door while I dragged Sara with me.
"Okay," I started as I ushered her over to the couch. "Time to talk."
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