You see her across the green space – walking quickly and determinedly – presumably to her class. You've both been at this university for three years, both hired during the frenzy that happened after tuition levels were dropped. You didn't work in the same departments, hell you weren't even in the same buildings or the same wings of the school. But you saw her in the hallways sometimes, at school events, all-staff meetings. Sometimes you brushed by her in the library while you were putting books on reserve for your class and she, well, you don't know for sure what she was doing. Maybe she was doing the same thing.
You spend a lot of time in your office, prepping for cases and figuring out your lecture plans for your Introduction to Criminal Law class, the undergraduate mess you must endure in order to teach the true nuances of the Criminal Code to Criminology majors who wish to pursue law school. You also take on a lot of directed studies courses for students who want to pursue some aspect of the law further – doing this teaches the both of you something new.
It is because of one of these that you finally get to meet her.
Your fourth-year student, Susie Chang, is pursuing a dual degree in Criminology and Pathology. She's the assistant head of the Pathology department, supposedly set to step into the top position once the dinosaur who claims that spot leaves in the next year or so. With your practice and your devotion to your students, you don't really have the time to get into that sort of thing, but you considered it as a way to get closer to her at department head meetings. Now, maybe you don't have to.
Chang wants to do a directed studies in criminal pathology, for both of your departments. You agree to sit down with Dr. Isles to discuss the details of such an undertaking. You foolishly hope it will end in dinner – a date almost. It's not uncommon to get dinner with a colleague when you're working together. You and other Criminology professors had eaten takeout and pub food to fuel them through collaborative research papers, surely the Pathology department wasn't too different.
As you knock on her office door, you realize your palms are a little sweaty. You swipe them on your pants, juggling your briefcase, as a comforting voice tells you to enter.
"Hello," you start, as you walk through the door. "Jane Rizzoli from the Criminology department to discuss Susie Chang?" You hover in the doorway.
She smiles at you, in what must be a polite show of teeth, but your knees feel like they want to melt and turn to soup on the floor anyway.
"Yes, please come in," she says, and points you to a plush looking armchair in the corner of her office. The space is larger than yours – assistant heads are higher up on the food chain after all. The walls are lined with books and diagrams, a couple of charts, and a few tribal masks behind her desk. Oddly enough, those are the things that stand out the most.
You sit in the appointed seat, drawing your legal pad onto your lap and uncapping your pen. She drifts to her desk for a moment to collect her own paper and pen before sliding into the seat across from you and crossing her legs at the ankles.
"Have you ever been part of a dual directed studies pursuit before?" She asks, already making notes.
"No, but I am very familiar with collaborative research and teamwork. Have you?" You can't help but feel like you're being interviewed, like she wants to see if you're even worth her time for this before delving into the heavy stuff.
"Not yet, but I relish the opportunity to expand my skillset. I don't generally work with other people as closely as the three of us will be working together – pathology is generally a solo endeavour for the most part," she explains and you feel better that she hasn't done this before either.
"Susie will be joining us in a half hour," she continues, and your stomach knots uncomfortably. But you knew this would probably happen. It only makes sense for the student to be present for at least part of this exploratory meeting.
"Excellent. Shall we lay the groundwork then, and figure out some basic boundaries?" You ask, trying to appear as calm and professional as possible.
She nods and rests her hands primly in her lap. "Yes, I think that would be best. I hope it will be fairly straight-forward, I take on the medical assistance aspect, you take the law. The real question is how you'd like to go about presiding over matters where the jurisdiction is less crystal."
You make a couple of notes on your paper because she already has half a page. "I think it'd be best for Susie if we tackled those together. Depending on what you'd prefer, I figure that either we meet with her for an hour a piece individually and then an hour together, or we simply do two hours all together per week. We can always adjust and I'm willing to find more time when it's required."
She notes that down, at least that's what you assume. "I think that's very reasonable. I'm open to both of those options as well, so we can see what Susie thinks when she arrives. I am also prepared to give her more of my time when she needs it, so hopefully that won't be a problem."
A knock sounds at the door and she gets up, telling them to enter. A student you don't know, wearing a white lab coat, hands Dr. Isles a stack of books and barely stammers out a greeting before they're backing up and almost running off. She looks after him with a mildly curious expression on her face before setting the books down on a side table and resuming her place across from you.
You wonder if she really doesn't know.
"Are you alright?" you ask, because the preoccupation hasn't left her face.
"Yes. Sorry – I'm just wondering why he ran off so quickly. He didn't even let me get a thank you out before he was gone."
You chuckle. You can't help yourself. Her eyes narrow a little, but you put your hand up in an appeasing manner. "Sorry, I just didn't think you actually didn't know."
She looks distressed, "know what?" She starts checking herself for stains or something.
"He's enamoured by you," you enlighten her. Her brow furrows for a moment and then relaxes.
"Oh, he's probably just nervous about being alone with me. He's new to my class," she explains away. "I highly doubt he's 'enamoured' as you phrase it."
You shake your head almost violently. "No way, he is totally into you." You nod your head knowingly to add credence to your insight.
"What makes you so sure?"
The words are out before you can stop them: "Everyone's enamoured with you. You're beautiful."
You flush, brilliantly you're positive. But she does too, a little, so maybe it's not as bad as you think. The last thing you want is for her to write you up to HR for harassment or something else that might provoke someone's wrath.
"Thank you, Dr. Rizzoli," she says quietly, fiddling with a ring on her hand.
"Please call me Jane," you say, hoping that maybe the two of you can get closer – even in just a friendly way.
She seems to ponder the request before nodding and smiling. "Only if you'll call me Maura," she bargains.
You laugh and grin a little, some of your nervous energy slipping away. "I can do that."
The two of you talk a little more about the details of Susie's research topic and what the two of you already know about it. She spouts off words like she had a dictionary for breakfast – Googlemouth appears in your mind as an affectionate nickname, but it's not one you'll ever dare say aloud.
Every minute the two of you spend together puts you more at ease, and the two of you end up going on tangents unrelated to Susie's research. Despite Susie being the reason the two of you were brought together, you're a tad put out when she finally arrives.
The three of you work out a time to meet, and go over with Susie which aspects each professor will be responsible for. She diligently scribes it in her notebook before tucking it away at the end of the meeting. Her bag is large enough to tuck the books Dr. Isles has for her, as well as the ones you've brought.
You want to laugh a little at how weighed down she is when she leaves. She rushes off, full of enthusiastic energy to begin her project and the both of you seem to stare off after her in an indulgent fashion.
"Well, I guess that's my cue, too," you say begrudgingly, tucking your papers back into your briefcase. You notice she seems a little sad at that, or maybe it's just your mind telling you what you want to see.
"I suppose," is the only response you get.
You figure it can't hurt – what the hell. "Would you like to get a drink, maybe some food? It's getting rather late in the evening."
Your heart throbs at the huge smile she gives you. "That'd be lovely," she agrees. "Just let me get my things." You nod dumbly, disbelief that she accepted your offer etched across your features. But you wipe it off in a hurry as she pulls her coat from the stand.
"I need to stop by my office briefly," you tell her as you both exit hers. She nods and heads in that direction automatically – you wonder briefly how she knew where it was. Then realize that she knows where the departments all are, including yours, just like you do. The hope you had that she'd been watching you too disappears like steam.
You walk side by side, so close you have to fight hard against the urge to take her hand in yours. It's a long walk.
You slip your long felt coat off its hook when you get to your office, tuck a few more papers into your briefcase, and then rejoin her in the hallway. "Anyplace in particular you'd like to go?" you ask, feeling like you should offer your arm, like you're in the 1920s and you're picking her up for a night on the town.
"Anywhere with hot food, and something healthy on the menu," she says, leaving it up to you.
You chuckle. Of course she'd be one of those healthy people. "Well, I was going to suggest the burger bar down the street, but there's a grill not too far from here that will better suit your needs."
"Sounds good."
"Would you like a ride, or shall I meet you there?" you ask as the two of you approach the parking lot.
She wobbles on the steps heading down to the parking area, and you almost launch yourself the two feet to help catch and steady her. She falls against you, but doesn't hit the ground. When she straightens, she almost looks you in the eye with the added height of her heels. You wonder if she's smoldering on purpose. Maybe your eyes are playing tricks on you.
The two of you are pressed up against each other and neither one of you seem eager to fix that. Instead you both stand there, staring at each other's eyes. You want so badly to lean down and kiss her – but you barely know her and she barely knows you. Even though you feel comfortable around her, you don't know if she feels the same. Hell, you don't even know if she's attracted to you in that way. So you close your eyes to collect yourself.
You almost faint when you feel the ghost of her lips upon yours. Your eyes fly open only to stare down into pure confidence. "I've seen you watching me," she says. "I didn't know anything about you, the first time we crossed paths. I learned more as we encountered each other more. I don't know how, but you make me feel safe when I'm around you."
Your eyes are wide and waiting for whatever comes next. You can hardly dare to hope.
"I've been watching you, too."