I knew you were trouble when you walked in, trailing Oliver's bratty teenage daughter behind you, and delivering a severed thumb to be examined as evidence. I had to brace myself before I could walk into my lab and be forced to interact with you. Perhaps you weren't ready either. I already knew you were trying to get Rodney to deal with the thumb without having to see me. Admittedly, I was hiding in the restroom, trying to calm the wild beating of my heart, and the urge to curl up into the fetal position and cry until everybody was gone for the day. The cold porcelain edge to the sink was leaving an attractive red groove in the heels of my hands as l clung on for dear life.

You can do this Holly!

Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath to steady myself. It almost worked.

Three weeks since we had had that disastrous evening at the Penny with my friends, and the silence was deafening. Three weeks since she had told me that she would rather tase herself in the eye than spend another minute with either me or my friends, and stomped out of my life. The first few days were the hardest. I could barely breathe, much less eat or sleep, it hurt too much.

After giving her a day to cool off, I swallowed my pride and went to her apartment to try and make amends. Her roommate Dov ushered me inside with a sad smile, wanting to know what had happened between us. He looked worried when he told me she was gone, for how long he didn't know. She had taken an undercover assignment with Guns and Gangs to bust a notorious coke and prostitution ring. He nervously offered me a beer, confiding that he was surprised her brother would do this to her after what had happened the last time, and just hoped that she wasn't going to do anything stupid to prove that she was alright. I had no idea what he was talking about, but I wasn't about to tell him that. What I knew was that she had what looked an awful lot like what might be the symptoms of PTSD, symptoms she desperately tried to hide from the world, but I wasn't going to tell him that either. So I nodded, and thanked him, and left. My calls went unanswered, my texts went undelivered, my emails were marked unread, and I saw no sign of her at crime scenes or at the station. She really was gone.

And then one day she was back, standing at the edge of my crime scene on the sidewalk, talking to a wittiness. I smiled and waved. She glared, turned on her heel, ushering the wittiness over to her car, and walked away. When I was done examining the body, she was gone. When I tried to call her after work, my call went straight to voice mail. And so it went for the next week or so. I would catch a glimpse of her at the Penny, or at a crime scene, and each time she snubbed me it hurt more than the time before.

The call came when I least expected it. Would I be interested in taking a research and teaching position at the Mt. Sinai UCSF forensic devision under the leadership of Dr. Henry Bernard? Would I?! I get headhunted all the time, but Dr. Bernard is only one of the leading forensic anthropologists in the world! At first I thought it was a joke, one of Lisa's attempts to make me smile, and get her back into my good graces. But then the woman explained that Dr. Bernard had read my article in The Journal of Forensic Sciences on The Result of Urban Conditions and their Effect on Decomposition and DNA Recovery, and was so impressed he wanted to meet with me as soon as possible. I had nothing but the vacation time I never use to lose, so I let them book me a flight two days later. San Francisco was lovely, and the job was everything I could ever dream of, with room to grow. I would be running my own research lab at a well funded, well respected institute with resources I could only dream of at the Toronto Coroner's Office, teaching at UCSF two days a week with summers off, and doing field work working with the San Francisco police force on open cases. When I was offered a generous raise in my salary, as well as an apartment in University Housing for the first year, and a company car, I was tempted. And then I thought about Gail, and how much it was killing me that every time I tried to reach out to her she literally turned away and wouldn't talk to me, and said yes. And now here she was, in my lab, looking good enough to stop my heart.

Fuck!

Trouble

"Hey, I I just wanted to say thank you for today."

She was back, by herself this time. As I looked up at her, all the millions of things I had wanted to say to her left my head and the frustration, and anger of having had her shut me out for the last three weeks took over.

"It's my job." I answered as coldly as I could muster.

"Yeah, and if you're not busy later, I'd love to take you out, maybe for a drink, and I don't know, apologize?" She said, coming closer, leaning on my desk.

God, she was beautiful! Why did she have to be so addictive?

"You had a chance to apologize the day after you walked out on me, or the week after, or any one of the times I called and you didn't pick up!" I replied, trying to be strong.

I could feel my frustration about to boil over. I was not about to cry, because that would be stupid. Nope. Not me.

"I know." She sighed and leaned closer, "Just just give me a chance" She was practically begging, "I really want to explain myself."

She looked like she might cry too. I knew I had to think clearly, to put some distance between us, or I was just going to fall into her eyes, let her back into my life and into my bed, and hate myself later.

"Gail, I'm seeing someone." I said before I simply gave in and kissed her. I could see the impact of my lie hit her like a slap. "I'm sorry." I continued softly, as if I could cushion the blow.

"That's fine." She choked out as she spun on her heel and ran for the door. "Izzy!" She screamed into an empty hallway, and my heart broke again at the anguish in her voice.

Trouble

It was well after hours when Rachael found me, sitting at my desk staring at a mummified thumb in a bag, and marveling at how quickly, under the right conditions, human flesh would shrivel up, and essentially become useless jerky. I was idly wondering if someone were to crack open my chest right now, if my heart would be found in a similar condition, and maybe that was why it hurt so much. Seeing Gail had been like being crushed to death slowly, one stone at a time. So slowly that the pain is almost bearable, and then devastating all at once.

"Holly?"

I looked up sharply. Rachael was standing in my doorway, leaning on her hip with her arms crossed, and a bemused expression on her face. I had no idea how long she had been watching me.

"Holly, what are you still doing here?" She asked as she stepped into my office and sat down.

Rachael had been dropping by at the end of the day, and entering my lab as a colleague with a flash of her badge since the day I began this job. My boss didn't mind as long as she was willing to volunteer her time and expertise in abnormal tissue data analysis when we needed it.

"I'm just thinking about this thumb." I waved the evidence bag in her direction.

"Mmm, I can see that." She smiled and raised her eyebrows at me. "When you didn't answer your phone, I thought you might still be here. Want to go get some sushi with me? I need a fix."

"I can't." I sighed, "I should go get this back to Gail."

"She was here? You actually saw her? What did she say?" Rachael demanded.

"She wanted to take me out for a drink and apologize for being a jerk and shutting me out." I shrugged and looked back at the thumb.

"And you said?" Rachael prompted after a loaded silence.

"I told her I was seeing someone else." I mumbled and closed my eyes.

"Oh, Holly..." She said softly, and I could feel her looking at me with big sad eyes.

"What." I snapped, pulling a page out of Gail's book.

"You know Holly," she began as if speaking to a child, "for somebody who has moped around like the world was ending for the past three weeks, and couldn't stop complaining about not being given a chance to set things right, don't you think you should have at least gone and talked with her?"

"She's like a fucking cat." I grumbled, half to myself.

"What?" Rachael looked confused.

"I mean," I said shaking my head with frustration, "I didn't know I would be so angry with her until she was right here making flirty propositions about going out for drinks to apologize. And besides," I finally sighed, "I'm leaving, so what does it matter."

"That's right, you're leaving." Rachael shot back, "You're leaving, and if you don't fix things, or at least get yourself some closure before you go, you are going to regret it for the rest of your life."

"What do you know about it? And why do you care? You guys think that dating her is beneath me." I practically snarled, and then regretted it. "You know, this," I punched the sit with my finger, "This, is exactly why I'm not speaking to Lisa any more!"

"Don't you go putting Lisa's words in my mouth. I thought Gail was lovely." Rachael scowled at me. "And Lisa," she chuckled, "Lisa's a bitch."

"Yeah," I laughed bitterly, "Pretty and simple. I'll have you know that Gail is one of the most intelligent, and interesting, and brave people I have ever met!"

"You love her." Rachael stated simply, and I felt myself deflate.

"Yeah, yeah I do." I rubbed my eyes under my glasses as if that would help suppress the wave of emotion.

Trouble Trouble Trouble