I knew you were in trouble when you walked in. I never knew how much I dreaded seeing you until that moment when you popped up next to me with a chirpy "hello" and bought me a drink. I could feel my heart pounding unreasonably when I told you I was meeting someone. Not sure if it was going to be a Someone someone. Yeah, right. Someone else. Why should it matter? You're straight. You're straight, and I'm single. You're straight, and I'm single, and we are just friends! Thank goodness my date arrived when she did, before I said something I might regret later. And yet, I couldn't help but notice, even if my date did not, that if looks could kill we would be dead and the bar would be on fire by now. As the evening wore on, I tried to stay focused on anything but the brilliant blue eyes I had apparently so cavalierly abandoned, and the simmering athanor of hurt that became less and less contained with each drink you consumed at an astonishing pace, even for you. As we got up to go there was the crash of a chair hitting the floor, and a commotion from the other side of the room. As I placed my hand on the small of Stacey's back to steer her towards the door, I made the mistake of glancing back over my shoulder. It wouldn't have surprised me if I had turned into a pillar of salt right then and there. A tall, broad, dark haired man, who I knew vaguely as one of your coworkers and roommates, was holding you firmly by your biceps and speaking softly, as you cursed at him and tried to push him aside.
Driving Stacey back to her apartment seemed like the thing to do. She was sexy, and funny, and extremely intelligent. She was a lawyer who worked in a high powered firm that had their offices in one of the same buildings as the cosmetic surgery suite where Lisa did some of her "best work". But when we got to her door, I found myself making excuses about having an early day ahead of me, and left her with just a goodnight kiss, and a promise to call her soon. What was I doing? But all I could think about was the hurt, and angry bright eyes that followed our every move, and the beautiful porcupine of a woman who had wormed her way into my life. I knew as I sat in front of my home, banging my head repeatedly on the steering wheel of my car, that I was totally screwed. How could I have let this happen? I couldn't keep a lid on these feelings forever. I knew that I would have to say something. Someday. Maybe. If only I could find the courage.
Trouble.
Morning came too early after a fitful night of strange dreams that slipped away leaving me in a state of sexual frustration and emotional agitation, which I had neither the time nor ability to deal with in my groggy state when my phone rang summoning me to the lab by nine o'clock, even though it was my day off. An officer had been shot while investigating reports of a homeless man possibly having frozen to death while sleeping under a tree in one of the city parks. It was an all hands on deck situation. I could feel the anxiety churning in my gut as I threw on clothes and ran for the door. It wasn't the bullets that had been pulled from the scene, or the officer's vest that had been hit too close to where it gaps and the arm holes are, or the photographs of the blood on the snow at the crime scene that stopped me cold. It was the small women's jacket bearing the insignia from the fifteen division that made me blanch, and then the sheer amount of blood soaking through it and smeared across everything else. I couldn't speak as I reached for the evidence bag with shaky hands, praying to any power in the universe that might exist, and might be listening, that it didn't belong to you. When I read the name, Price, even though I knew it was wrong, relief struck me like an oncoming train. I had to sit on my desk for a moment, and try not to hyperventilate.
Trouble.
"Did you hear that some guy is out there hunting down the cops at the fifteen?"
I overheard two of the interns gossip as I walked into the ballistics lab. It made me stop in my tracks. It made me feel like I had just been sucker-punched. I had been so busy processing the scene from this morning that I hadn't heard anything new. Until now.
"Yeah," the one I vaguely knew as Eric responded, "I was listening to the scanner in the break room when he almost took out the Superintendent's daughter!"
I suddenly felt as if all of the air had been sucked from the room. An unreasonable rage filled my head with a strange buzzing noise as they started laughing.
"I hear she's a real bitch," the other one blurted out with a snort of laughter, "Man, what a circus that would have been... Oh hey Dr. Stewart!"
"Don't the two of you have work to do?" I snapped at them, stepping into the room, making them recoil suddenly. They shuffled their feet and glanced anxiously at each other. "And I'm sure that I did not just hear you laughing about our colleagues in the Police force being under attack. Did I?" If the anger on my face was equal to even half of the fear reflected back in theirs, I knew I had to get myself back under control.
"No m'aam." Eric mumbled to the floor by his shoes.
"If you can't show the appropriate respect for the women and men who risk their lives to make our city safe, and with whom we work side by side everyday, I'm not sure what you are even doing here!" I knew I was laying it on thick, but I just couldn't stop. I watched them cringe and glance nervously at each other. "And what is this?" I practically growled as l snatched a blue case file folder from the scruffy one with a scraggly attempt at a goatee.
"Ummm... It's a murder case from a few weeks ago?" He muttered refusing to look me in the eye.
"Don't you think it might be important to someone's case? Or are you completely cavalier about that too?" I glared at him.
"Uh, yes ma'am... I mean no ma'am... I mean..." He stuttered and looked like he might cry.
"I'll take care of this." I replied with a frown, "and when I get back, I had better find the two of you paying attention to your work and not engaging in malicious gossip!"
Without another word I spun on my heal and practically ran for the carport.
Trouble.
"Hey! What are you doing here?"
You looked and sounded angry as I spun around from loitering by the bulletin board where I was waiting for your briefing to end. You was giving me that patented Gail Peck "what the fuck" face and gesture. The one I was the recipient of on the very first moment we met. It didn't matter. Relief still took my breath away, and made my mind go blank. Or maybe it was just you.
It took me a moment to snap back to reality.
"It's a murder case from a couple of weeks ago." I replied unconvincingly, brandishing my poor excuse before me.
"Doesn't the courier usually bring that stuff over?" You stood there glaring at me, eyes wide, brow furled, gesturing at me again.
Fuck.
"He was sick? Or something..."
Smooth Holly. Real Smooth.
Fuck.
Next thing I knew I had grasped you by the arm and was shepherding you into an empty interrogation room. After you admitted to having been shot at, and that, yes, you were going back out there, all I could think was that you could have died, and I would never have the chance to say the words that I could feel in my bones. You would never know that you mean the world to me. And so, I inexplicably found myself talking about last night's date, becoming more and more frantic as you stared mutely back at me, until I finally blurted out something about coming here to make sure you were ok or something...
It happened so fast I thought my head had finally exploded. Suddenly, your hands were gripping my face and your lips were upon mine in a rough and passionate kiss. I heard you breathe out "oh my God" as you pulled away.
What the..?! My mind was reeling.
"I'm sorry..." You began, and my heart sunk. "But you just had to stop talking."
"I won't say another word." I managed to whisper after what seemed like an eternity.
And then you leaned in again. Your lips were softer this time, but no less demanding, and your tongue was in my mouth and your body was pressing mine up against the glass of the wall behind me as my knees began to give way.
Holy shit!
Trouble Trouble Trouble