"What?" Cat stared at Tara in confusion. Talk with her alone? Why? Then confusion gave way to inevitable submissive paranoia. What had she done? "Private conversation" was Dominant code for punishment.
Eyes level and determined, Tara repeated, "I would like to talk with you alone, Detective. Now, please." Polite, not unfriendly, definitely more command than request.
And that meant, no matter how much Cat wanted to refuse, there was only one answer. Of course, Cat didn't respond immediately. If she could catch another Dominant's attention, she might be able to wiggle out of this conversation. Her eyes darted around the room. Sub, sub, occupied Dominant, sub... Where the hell were all the Dominant cops? Department statistics said Dominants outnumbered submissives three to one.
"Detective, I won't ask again," Tara said with a very distinct edge. She was growing tired of waiting.
Well, hell. "Yes, Ma'am." Cat dropped her eyes in acknowledgement. "Would...would you like me to schedule a room?" Sweat broke out all over Cat's body. If Faith had mentioned her inappropriate behavior in the car, and Tara had reported it to Lieutenant Cavanaugh... Cat's stomach twisted. She'd been out last night. She still hurt. A lot. Even the mildest judicial paddling would be excruciating.
"Detective." Instinctively, Cat knew she was not impressing Tara with her lack of obedience. "I saw a small break room at the end of the hall. We can talk there. Follow me." Without another word, Tara turned away. She snapped her fingers and Faith rose smoothly. A second later, they had both walked from the conference room.
Cat was frozen in place. What was happening? Official discipline required one of the rooms on the third floor. And witnesses. Why was Tara taking her to the break room? Her mind whirled until Cat finally woke up to the fact that Faith and Tara were gone. Which meant Tara would be waiting and wondering why Cat hadn't followed them. She jogged stiffly for the break room.
The door to the tiny, cluttered room was open. Faith knelt outside.
Tara really did want to talk to her alone. Cat wiped sweating palms on her jeans and went inside. "Ma'am?" She hesitated. "Should I close the door?"
Silence answered. Silence that grew louder and heavier with each passing second. Cat's head dropped in response, her eyes finding one particular chip in the cheap linoleum floor particularly interesting. Her heart hammered in her chest. She opened - and closed - her mouth several times as she contemplated asking for the reason of this meeting.
Finally, Tara murmured, "Detective, I am going to ask you several questions. I expect you to answer completely and honestly. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Ma'am." This was it. Cat was so tense she trembled.
"I noticed you flinch this morning in the church, when Faith touched you. Were you offended by her touch?" Tara's voice was so soft and calm.
"No, Ma'am. I wasn't offended." Cat had been ready to drop to her knees and profess undying love for Faith. Worlds apart from "offended."
"Thank you, Detective." Cat relaxed slightly at the approval warming Tara's voice. "So you weren't insulted. And I know my Slayer wouldn't use Slayer strength for a friendly gesture. Why did you flinch, Detective?"
Only now, confronted with the question, did Cat sense looming danger ahead. The piece of linoleum drew Cat's attention again.
Suddenly, Tara's feet blocked Cat's view of the floor. "I'm getting very tired of your behavior, Detective."
Head sinking lower, Cat felt the lash of Tara's disappointment. Not anger. Tara's voice was still soft and frighteningly gentle. Anger would have been better. It would have given Cat something to fight against. Disappointment was like acid on Cat's submissive soul. She was hardwired to please, and she was failing miserably right now.
As if Tara read Cat's mind, she said, "I know you want to please me, Detective. Show me how obedient you can be. Tell me why you flinched this morning at the church."
The soft command wrapped around Cat and eroded her resistance. "My shoulders and back. They hurt, Ma'am." She knew her answer wouldn't be enough to satisfy Tara and mumbled the rest. "I went to a club last night and…and played."
The silence returned, and the temperature in the room went arctic.
Cat wanted to sink to her knees so badly that the muscles in her thighs cramped. Tara's silence suffocated her.
There was strain tightening Tara's voice when she resumed questioning Cat. "Did you explain to your…your partner that you needed to be fully functional for work today?"
This just kept getting worse. "Not exactly." Briefly contemplating running for the door and never coming back, Cat squeezed her eyes shut. "I only told her not to leave marks where anyone could see." When there was no immediate – and disbelieving response – Cat risked opening her eyes. She broke position enough to glance up.
Tara's eyes blazed, the blue so clear and cold they looked like ice. "And did you also forget to discuss limits and safewords, Detective?"
"No, Ma'am." Cat hoped Tara never discovered this was only partially true. Limits and safewords had come after most of the scene had been completed.
The news didn't entirely appease Tara. "Detective, I should report you to Lieutenant Cavanaugh. Your actions…Your complete lack of responsibility…"
The floor seemed to drop from beneath Cat's feet. No. "Please. Please, Ma'am. No." Her knees flexed; Cat needed to kneel, to show Tara her real submission. Only the fact that she wasn't Tara's to truly Dominate kept her on her feet.
"Did the Dominant at least provide aftercare, Detective?" Tara was relentless, and she seemed to know the worst possible questions to ask.
"No, Ma'am." Maybe Cat should offer to report herself to Cavanaugh. The more she talked, the more she realized how badly she'd screwed up. Tara was right. Going to the club had been stupid. If nothing else, she should have limited the play to something milder than impact play. Mindless sex and hand-spanking or simple bondage. But she'd needed to hurt.
This time, Cat was prepared for Tara's heavy silence. She deserved it.
"You are not my sub, Detective. And you have no Dominant responsible for your behavior." The soft words cut Cat to the bone. Without thinking she pulled the right sleeve of her shirt over the red leather of her wrist cuff. "Because I cannot go to the woman who abused you last night, I will tell you what will happen as long as you are a member of this team.
"I will speak with Dr. Isles. Before you leave the station house today, she will make sure you are healthy enough for full duty. After that, Detective, you will go home for the day. If you feel the urge to play," Cat flinched at the sudden, raw anger in Tara's voice, "you will come to me or to Dr. Isles. Although bonded, we are more than skilled enough to provide what you might need without crippling you."
"Yes, Ma'am." It was better than Cat probably deserved. Guilt ate at her. She'd let Jane and the task force down.
"That's not all, Detective. There is the matter of your punishment." Tara moved into Cat's personal space. "Look at me."
Afraid to show even the slightest hesitation, Cat raised only her eyes to Tara's.
"While you are at home tonight, you will write a list. A detailed list of all of the ways your actions could have impacted you, this team, and the people of Boston. You will give this list to me here, in this room, at six tomorrow morning. Is that clear, Detective?" Tara demanded.
"Yes, Ma'am." Wanting Tara to see she'd paid attention and taken the punishment to heart, Cat repeated, "At six tomorrow morning, I'll bring you my list of how my actions may have impacted you, the team, and the citizens of Boston."
A hint of a smile softened Tara's expression. "I know you will, Detective."
Cat smiled back, feeling unaccountably happier.
"Now, Detective, you'll stay here while I find Dr. Isles." Tara swept out of the room and took all of Cat's energy with her.
She dropped to the floor as if her legs had been cut out from under her. "Son of bitch!" She'd never underestimate Tara again. Her comment to Faith earlier in the day had been a joke. After the last few minutes, though, Cat was absolutely convinced Tara could chew her up and spit her out without breaking a sweat. Her hands shook as she scrubbed them over her face.
"I told you not to piss off the witch, tiger," Faith called out from her spot by the door. "You didn't believe me."
"Look who's talking, Slayer," Cat responded softly. "I'm betting Tara didn't say, 'Hey, Faith, keep the dumb detective company while I find Maura.'" She grew more serious. "I'm OK; I promise. Don't get yourself in more trouble because of me."
Faith chuckled softly. "Aw, you're so butch, tiger. Tryin' to take care of me. But I'm good. Just want you to watch yourself. You pulled some stupid shit last night, and if I'da been paying attention today, I'd have busted your ass instead of T. You do it again, and you better hope I don't find out. Got it?"
"Yes, Faith." Cat flushed. Warmth spread from her heart to the rest of her body. Somewhere deep inside, Faith had to remember the bond. She had to. No one except a bonded Dominant would be so fiercely protective of a submissive's safety.
"Good girl, tiger. Now stand up. The Ladies are on the way," Faith warned.
Climbing to her feet, Cat took a slow breath and rolled her shoulders. Everything was fine. Tara and Maura would take care of her. She settled into place, head lowered and eyes on the floor. She'd have to file a work order with facilities to get that buckled spot fixed.
Maura's high heels announced her arrival in the break room. Cat saw her stylish Pleasure pumps and Tara's more serviceable combat boots come into view. "Cat, Tara says you may have been injured last night. I want to take a look, but I need your permission. Do I have that?"
It felt odd for Maura to ask permission. Cat was more used to Dominant's assuming they had the right to command her. Maura was playing it by the book. "Yes, Ma'am," Cat responded. She didn't think she really needed a doctor. She'd taken worse floggings and survived. However, Tara had been very clear. Maura got to look and decide if she was fit for duty.
"Take off your shirt, please." Cat did so, not bothering to disguise her wince at the nagging pain. Maura's fingers lightly traced the weals on Cat's back. "Did you specifically request no permanent markings or were you merely lucky?" she asked sharply. "Some of these came very close to breaking the skin, and I don't have to tell you how risky it is to use a flogger on the hips where the flails may strike bone or wrap around?"
Lovely. Another lecture. Cat huddled in front of Maura.
"I think the Detective understands her mistake, Maura," Tara interrupted. "We had a long talk before I came to you. However, she wanted you to check on her condition before going off-shift for the night." The words nearly caused Cat to break position. Tara was keeping their real conversation a secret. Telling Maura that Cat had initiated this checkup.
Cat decided Tara was a pretty awesome person.
The fingers were back. Only this time, they didn't trace. They pushed and poked and stretched the skin until Cat bit her lips to hold in whimpers. "Easy, Detective. It won't be long now," Tara murmured. She moved closer, not quite touching Cat's left side as Maura worked. "You're fine. Just relax. Breathe in and out. Slowly. Let me see you try."
"Yes, Ma'am." Cat's eyes drifted shut, and she concentrated on following Tara's orders. In. Out. In… The pain receded a little. Or maybe Cat stopped caring. Her mind floated, detached from Maura's examination.
Finally, Maura announced, "Some of the abrasions need to be cleaned. Since Tara indicated you were unfamiliar with your play partner, there is some risk of infection. Improperly cleaned equipment may leave traces of lymph, a fluid which collects in bruises and other wounds, behind. You also have a few hematomas which display elevated temperature and hardness."
She gently maneuvered Cat to the far side of the room and a tiny counter and sink. Placing her black "doctor" bag on the counter, Maura removed a pair of latex gloves and other tools of her trade. Once the gloves were on, she carefully applied disinfectant.
Cat remained silent. It didn't really hurt, not like the actual flogging had. The care Maura took, the way Tara hovered nearby, seeped into Cat's pores. It filled some need she hadn't even known existed. Most of her play partners, as Maura called them, walked away as soon as the scene (or the sex) ended. There had never been this much emotion or caring when she'd played, this level of attention to Cat's well-being.
"There. You can put your shirt back on, Cat." Maura removed her gloves with a snap. "You need to put ice on the worst of the bruising, and I'll call in a prescription for an anti-inflammatory. If you're still feeling pain in three or four days, you'll need to see your regular physician. Until then, I believe you are well enough to work. I will expect you to tell me or Tara if anything worsens or you feel you can't fulfill your duties."
Cat gratefully slipped back into her shirt. "Thank you, Ma'am. I'll pick up the meds on the way home. There's a Walgreens across the street from my apartment building. I'll text the address to your phone." She did that quickly. "May I leave now?"
Warm fingers suddenly gripped her chin. "If you ever do anything like this again," Maura warned. Her eyes were dark with concern. "Please talk to one of us, Cat. Or schedule an appointment with your psychologist. This type of reckless disregard for personal safety is often a hallmark of Forbidden status. We can help you find a safe outlet for you needs, Cat."
"I will." Voice cracking with emotion, Cat met Maura's eyes and then glanced at Tara. "I promise, Ma'am."
An hour later, Cat munched on a piece of toast and took the first two pills Maura had prescribed. She'd already loaded ice packs into a special harness-like contraption with Velcro ends and wrapped it around her back where the worst of the soreness was.
The pharmacist had warned the medication would make her groggy. Before that happened, Cat had one final task. She grabbed a legal pad and a pen and sat at the kitchen table.
Tara,
Here are the possible consequences from my trip to the club:
1) I would have been unable to protect Faith if the "watcher" had attacked us
2) I might have been too distracted from the pain to see a clue at one of the crime scenes
3) I disappointed you and betrayed the trust you and the task force placed in me
Tears dripped onto the paper by the time she finished the line. Ink blurred and spread in multiple places as Cat continued to add to her list.