Holly takes a step toward Gail carrying a blue spray bottle.
"I'm going to have you stand up so I can place the stencil on you."
Gail's insides falter a little at the words as she recognizes that they are rapidly approaching the step before the step before there is no turning back. God, she hates McNally right now. Like, hates her more than usual hates her.
Gail gets out of the chair, still holding her shirt, looking uncertain about what she should do with the garment.
"If you want I can put your shirt over here with my stuff so you don't have to worry about any ink or anything getting on it." Holly gestures toward a chair in the corner where a backpack and a fleece zip-up are piled.
"Thanks." Gail is too nervous to make a smart ass comment about the contents of the chair but makes a mental note to take a jab later.
"Ok, why don't you show me where you want the badge?" Holly asks the question on the short walk from the chair.
"Over my heart." She growls the answer out through clenched teeth and finishes it with a mental "fucking McNally".
"Just so you know, in order to do that I would need you to remove your bra as well. Over your heart would technically require me to start the tattoo just below and continue it onto the underside of your left breast. Now, I am guessing that that isn't actually what you had in mind, so why don't you show me what you did have in mind."
"No, actually, that is exactly what I meant." Gail reaches behind her to unhook her bra, watching Holly the whole time. Holly's eye's widened and her mouth opened to speak words that never come out.
After lingering around her bra hook for a few seconds Gail drops her hands back to her side.
"Just kidding, Nerd." Gail shakes her head and smiles at the bewildered artist frozen in front of her. "I want it right here." Gail puts her right hand just above the top edge of her bra on the left side of her chest.
"Right." Holly looks down momentarily, clearly embarrassed, flustered, or a combination of both. "Alright then," she says looking back up, shaking her head a couple more times to refocus. "This might be a little cold."
She sprays whatever is in the blue bottle over the left half of Gail's exposed chest. As Holly suggested, it is cold. Holly pulls the stencil off of her workstation and holds it in front of Gail.
"If you could just stand as relaxed as possible, letting your arms hang naturally by your side . . ."
As Gail does as instructed, Holly watches her chest. Taking the stencil between the thumb and index fingers of both hands, Holly moves it closer to its destination. The closer it gets, the harder Holly concentrates, even pulling the corner of her lower lip under her teeth so she can worry it over a hair's width and a fraction of a degree.
"Wow, Holly. Perfectionist much?"
Holly maintains focus, seemingly deaf to or ignoring the question until the stencil contacts Gail's moistened skin.
"Are you complaining?" Holly wraps one hand around Gail's back to serve as a counterpoint to the fingers that are applying solid, even pressure to the stencil, carefully ensuring complete transference. And while Holly is so intent on the perfection of the placement of McNally's badge, Gail is acutely aware of everywhere Holly is touching her. She can feel the warmth of Holly's hands through her rubber gloves. She can feel the gentle pressure of Holly's fingers over the stencil, and of Holly's hand on her breast solely as a consequence of the hand's proximity to Holly's dutiful fingers. Despite intent or purpose, these sensations together create a surge of warmth in Gail that manifests perceptibly as a shiver.
Holly's hand stops moving.
"Are you cold?"
"I'm fine."
"If you need me to turn the heat up, let me know. This room has a separate thermostat so we won't cook anyone but ourselves. But I do want to assure you, you will warm up once we get started."
"Like I haven't heard that line before, Holly."
Holly finishes peeling the stencil off and tilts her head in scrutiny. She raises her eyes to Gail's.
"The difference is, when I'm all done, I will ask you if it was true." Holly's mouth twitches with a smirk that is fighting to be. "Why don't you check it out in the mirror and let me know if it is where you want it?" She gestures to a full length mirror next to the chair their stuff is on.
Gail walks over to the mirror. There it is. McNally's fucking badge. Fucking McNally and her luck.
"It's perfect Holly." Gail meant the words, but her tone was definitely not confidence inspiring .
"Gail, if you don't want the tattoo, don't get it. Please." Holly's look is so soft, warm brown eyes full of kindness and concern.
"I gave my word." It's the only explanation Gail offers as she returns to the dentist chair.
Holly works silently for the next couple of minutes, pulling out a couple needles, getting out more paper towels and gloves. Being a cop, Gail has seen enough of Holly and of her surrounding to understand what is really happening here. Everything was all set before. Holly is just giving Gail a couple of minutes to think this through. This woman who never even met her before tonight already knows that if pushed on a matter, Gail will fight. So Holly gives her a little time and trusts that Gail will do what is best for her. For a brief moment Gail is overwhelmed to have this person who is practically a stranger understands her so well and treat her with such regard, more so than her own family and most of her friends.
"Okay, Gail. I'm all set. Are you ready?"
A single nod.
Holly swivels the stool and retrieves her machine. She pushes the foot pedal a final couple times, letting Gail hear the sound while double checking her double check. She dips the tip into the tiny pool of black ink before she spins back around.
"Nervous?"
Holly waits for Gail's answer.
It is a simple question that Gail is sure Holly asks often in this job, yet she doesn't do so casually. It isn't meant to just be a conversation catalyst. Holly genuinely wants to know if Gail needs reassurance or yet another chance to back out.
"I am." Gail makes eye contact with Holly, reassuring the artist that this is going to happen.
The endearing lop-sided smile returns, diffusing warmth throughout Gail's body.
"You're going to be fine. We'll take as much time as you need. Okay?"
Gail nods at her. Closing her eyes, she tries to swallow the lump in her throat. She silently curses Holly for being so damn nice and herself for being so weak. Her self-admonishment continues until the sound of the stool's wheels on the tile breaks her mental tirade.
Holly is close to her now, wielding the implement of torture.
"I am going to start by doing a small section of outline so you can get an idea of what it is going to feel like. Ready?"