Title: Losing You
Fandom: Murder Call
Characters: Tessa Vance, Steve Hayden
Prompt: 082. If.
Word count: 2101
Rating: G (K)
Summary: After the events of “Dead Offerings”, Tessa gathers a bit of courage to say what’s on her mind.
Author's Note: This is just one of the many drabbles and one-shots I have sitting on my computer. Normally I think "hey, I could do a long story on this!", but then I never get around to it and it simply sits there on my harddrive, never being published. So this is one of the many short scenes I'll be uploading in the future as I clear them up a bit.
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters. They belong to Jennifer Rowe, Hal McElroy and Southern Star. I make no profit out of this.
LOSING YOU
“You know what?” she asked him with a little tilt to her head, making her curls bob back and forth above her slender shoulder. Her big blue eyes were hesitant as they met his. “I’m scared.”
“What of?” For some reason his neck tensed and something strange coiled in his stomach. He didn’t linger on it, though, too mesmerised and trapped in the beautiful features framed by unruly blonde locks, too intent on keeping his distance.
She sighed then as if some sort of monstrous obstacle had been blown to pieces and left her with free passage, yet still she was apprehensive of journeying down the road presented to her. He wondered, but remained silent, waiting.
“Losing you,” she said in the end, withdrawing her gaze and fixing it on the pool table where their redheaded friend was being outmatched and seduced by a fellow constable from Forensic Services that had recently joined the forensic team. Neither of them knew him. Not that it mattered at the moment. He was too busy making sure his head didn’t snap in a sudden turn towards his companion.
Had she said that? He wasn’t really sure until he saw she was starting to chew her lower lip uncertainly, slowly crossing her arms defensively. Preparing herself for which assault? Did she think so lowly of him? Is that the impression he had given in their years of friendship?
When he thought about it, maybe he had. Sort of. They’d had a rough start but things settled down after a while, and now he couldn’t honestly say he hated her or something like that.
But he had never actually told her that. He knew what women were like. They needed affirmation and reassurance, but he had never ventured down that road. Why’s that?
Because that would mean she wasn’t just a partner any longer. It was easy to assume things were understood when not spoken of, that they could keep up the pretence of having a good and healthy working relationship. It’s not like he needed to tell old Barney that he liked him every fortnight or so.
But Tessa was a woman. Therein lay the difference. Despite popular beliefs on females being just like men, science proved again and again that men and women were polar opposites. Sure they had things in common, like a decent sensibility, but none had an equal amount of anything. Like two men were different, so were two women. Based on his experiences, it was a logical conclusion to say Barney and Tessa were completely different personalities. And he should have remembered that. Whereas he didn’t need to broadcast his feelings for Barney, Tessa was a whole other matter.
So why hadn’t he told her?
Steve knew why. It was perfect clear. But it was something he had tucked away in his mind for so long he had been sure it would never come up. Until now when he was faced with a beautiful and defensive friend that somehow managed to relay a deeper meaning to her statement than Steve would ordinarily catch up on. Perhaps it was the state of mind after a traumatic incident when they almost lost Tootsie to a serial killer, or the atmosphere born from watching Dee move in for the big kill beside the pool table, teasing and grinning as her recipient responded favourably.
And yet he couldn’t tell Tessa any of that. To her he was the big analytical and logical mind that had trouble working outside the parameters of imagination, and who had always kept things on the surface, never venturing below to the bottomless depths, letting her take first approach. So he would have to act accordingly.
“You’re not gonna lose me,” Steve said off-handed, slinging his shoulder seemingly carelessly over the back of the chair, fingering with the half-filled glass of beer in front of him. He grinned for her benefit when she looked back at him, lower lip red from the self-inflicted biting. “I’m not that easy to kill off, haven’t you noticed? Us Homicide detectives have at least nine lives, though I think you’re pushing up on twenty-something.”
Tessa’s lips widened in a smile at the familiar teasing, but she didn’t hold his glance for long as she withdrew and leaned forward on her elbows, sighing again as Dee and her unnamed companion leant close enough to touch but kept to the game.
Steve felt his insides melt at the nearly mournful look that crossed his partner’s face and wished he’d had more balls. Had it been someone else, someone less beautiful and endearing even in sorrow, he would have made a go at her. As it was, he forced his hands to remain calm and schooled his features.
“Do you think Fisk’s with her?” Tessa asked suddenly from the bottom of her water glass, only glancing at him briefly, chewing her lip again. Steve shrugged.
“Don’t know. Probably.”
He knew what she was truly doing. She was gathering courage. Something he seemed to lack in his little self-imposed world of Cold-hearted Bastard. She had always been the bravest of the two of them. The emotional, the driven, the obsessed; Tessa was the visible force of nature’s most fundamental phenomenon. Steve carried it all inside, making him the invisible, the one who hid behind logic and mathematical concepts. Things he could grasp with his head, not his heart.
“She’ll be all right,” Steve told her softly, meeting her eyes when she looked up at him from her glass. He struggled to keep his hands where they were. “Unless Fisk bores her to death.”
“He won’t,” Tessa replied certainly. “They have something special.”
As she drifted off, Steve observed how her eyes glazed over and wondered not for the first time what she was envisioning in front of her. Was it Fisk hugging Tootsie tightly in the morgue after the killed had been taken down? Or a vision that had never happened but which she wanted to come true?
Steve didn’t know whether he should take the opportunity she presented him with or keep to the routines he had kept religiously for three years. His stomach coiled again when faced with this dilemma and he chose ashamedly the usual way out.
He kept silent.
The pub supplied the sounds neither of them elicited. Music pulsated in the ground, making the chairs they sat on vibrate. A television set in the back broadcasted loudly a sports event Steve took no pleasure from watching. Laughter and off-duty talk from the thirty-odd coppers and civilians surrounding them really only made him wish for a quieter atmosphere when previously he would have managed to unwind because of it.
It was strange but all Steve felt like doing wasn’t gulping down a couple of beers while chatting amiably with his friends and get all the ugly pictures and emotions out of his mind. He wanted to continue the train of thought Tessa had started earlier. He wanted her to keep talking because listening to her gentle voice trusting him with her thoughts made him relax. And he felt sort of special.
‘Ain’t that an eye-opener,’ his mind rebuffed ironically.
Steve agreed.
He looked back at the blonde curly bob, strands of hair sticking out where she had run her hands through it, messing it up. Coupled with the slightly creased brown trouser suit and open jacket revealing a creamy, silken shirt, it was a vision that made his stomach coil even more. It was unbelievable he had lasted all these years without doing anything.
“Why are you so scared of losing me?” Steve asked bluntly, deciding beating around the bush any longer would only prolong the conversation and most likely end up with no answer at all when their sensible minds deemed it ready to head home. His eyes settled upon her beautiful features that flashed with surprise before starting to chew her lip profusely again, not quite meeting his stare.
“Because...” Tessa began slowly, hands wrapped around the empty water glass until her knuckles whitened. He noted the slightly quiver in her voice and once more felt his neck tense from the strain of keeping his hands to himself.
“You’re my best friend. You make me feel safe,” Tessa continued in a low mumble that shook hesitantly. She glanced up at him, giving him a sort of sad smile Steve loathed to see on her face. Like there was no light left in the world. “And you’re everything a girl could hope for.”
She left the statement hanging, withdrawing from him once more as her hands abandoned the water glass, settling onto the opposite elbow joint in the now familiar defensive gesture. Off by the pool table, Dee and her seductive opponent were beginning to wrap up the game, their innuendo getting clearer for every ball that was downed. It was easy to see where their night was winding up.
But Steve didn’t watch them for long. His eyes were all on his partner and best friend as his heart did an unfamiliar skip and betrayed his carefully kept charade. This time he had heard and understood perfectly what she really meant to say. And yet he was speechless. There were no words that came to his rescue. He was instead drawn to the enigma that continued to surprise him.
Tessa tilted her head, noticed his expression, and then looked away again. Her voice was half a whisper and half a wondering inquiry as she spoke out of sight. “Haven’t you ever wondered what would’ve happened if we hadn’t met as partners that night?”
The Funworld amusement park. Nursery rhyme serial killer that wasn’t as cool-headed as he believed he was. Steve knew what she was referring to. He knew because it was something that had stayed tucked away in the back of his mind for years.
When he didn’t answer, Tessa chuckled darkly, still faced away from him. “I did. I still do. When I’m with you and see how amazing you are, I can’t help but wonder...what if?”
What if Steve had hit on her? What if Tessa had returned the sentiment? What if they had never been partners? There were so many and from the turn of the conversation, Steve could only assume Tessa had thought of them all. Just like him.
“Then again,” Tessa sighed in defeat, “As much as I’d like to initiate things, I’m scared of ruining everything.”
She didn’t ask him about his emotions, she just assumed they were similar to hers. Did she read him that well? Had they known each other so long and so well? Steve hadn’t realised. Tessa truly was the bravest of them both when hinting on this subject and then suddenly revealing everything, drawing him into her entrapment as steadily as she did the suspects.
“I’ve done it before,” Tessa continued without a thought to his inner battle, as if rolling on a tidal wave she couldn’t escape once it had caught her. “With Ezra, with Brett. There was this one guy who managed to stay my friend afterwards, but it didn’t last long once he got back together with his ex. Now they’re all gone and I can’t help wondering: Is there something wrong with me?”
Steve realised her voice broke at the last word and scrutinised her hunched shoulders for any sign of upset, but there wasn’t even a shiver, just silence as Tessa drifted off somewhere out of reach.
He couldn’t help it. His hands began to move in her direction.
But then she turned towards him and he lost the momentary surge of courage, letting the arms fall down before she noticed. A lone tear was tracing the length of her cheek, down her jaw and ending up hanging precariously on the tip of her chin. The sad smile sent towards him turned his insides to mush.
“I’m always falling for my best friends,” Tessa half-whispered, “Yet when my mind’s screaming for me to keep my distance I can’t help but wonder if I’m losing my life’s opportunity not doing anything?”
And in that moment, Steve wondered about that as well.
But he was too much of a coward to do anything. He was the invisible one, the one who made reasonable choices. This was not his territory. He simply did not have the words.
He met Tessa’s beautiful blue eyes, clenching his beer.
“Do you want something stronger than water?”
END
*** I decided to end it here. Creates a bit of mystery, doesn't it?
mandag 16. mars 2009
søndag 7. desember 2008
Fic: What We Want (WIP)
Title: What We Want (Work In Progress?)
Fandom: Murder Call
Characters: Tessa Vance, Steve Hayden
Prompt: 058. Dinner
Word Count: 1260
Rating: G (K)
Summary: A celebratory dinner might be the nudge they need to take the next step forward.
Author’s Note: I think this could be the start of a small series of one-shorts concerning the development of Tessa and Steve's relationship. At this point I'm unsure, but I thought it was a nice one-shot and wanted to post it in case I never get around to finish it. I've got too many one-shots just lying on my computer that I never put up.
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters. They belong to Jennifer Rowe, Hal McElroy and Southern Star. I make no profit out of this.
WHAT WE WANT
It was sudden, impulsive, and completely thrilling. One moment he had come from his meeting with the Superintendent, the next she had suggested they go out to celebrate. He had expected a round of drinks with the gang down at the Stars & Moon pub so when she pulled up in front of a fancy restaurant he had been dumbfounded. Yet when she sent him a single hesitant glance he had quickly assured her it was a great idea.
And here they were, sitting opposite each other like they were prone to do, with the only exception being their setting. No white-board off to the side with crime scene photos and scribbled notes, no desks teeming with yellow-beige folders, newspapers and photos, no looming sense of sobriety. The gloomy office had been replaced by a classy, sophisticated locale with modern shades of red and black, and lamps along the walls turned low to fit the intimate air set off by the small candles on the tables. If she had not been as surprised as him upon entering the restaurant, he would have wondered if she knew the place from beforehand.
Glancing across the table, Steve Hayden perused his partner sitting stock-still in her chair, her shoulders raised just a little and her throat tense. Her beautiful clear blue eyes surveyed the other patrons instead of looking at the menu an elegantly dressed waiter had brought them as they sat down. Did she already know what she wanted, he wondered?
“You been here before?” he asked curiously.
Tessa Vance gave a little start as her chin swung around from peering at a group of people clustered together in a corner. She had the deer-caught-in-headlights look upon her and Steve could not help but give her a wide smirk as he nodded in the general direction of the restaurant.
Blushing a little, Tessa grinned. “No, I haven’t. Well, that’s not quite true. I’ve been in the neighbourhood, but I’ve never been here. Jason took me to the diner across the road once,” she explained when Steve raised his eyebrows slightly.
“Jason, huh? That the guy who threatened to punch me or the guy who wrote you love letters before your first date?” Steve recalled both incidents clearly, each of them highly amusing in hindsight. He grinned widely, feeling his facial muscles stretch a bit uncomfortably.
If she had not been blushing before, Tessa was certainly rosy-cheeked now. “The punch threat guy,” she murmured demurely, embarrassed. She did not say anything else, her silence drawing Steve into a chuckle.
Though he had highly mistrusted the guy at the time and not really understood why Tessa willingly went on dates with him, he could only see the humour in the situation where the burly five-foot-six had glared up at him and swore he was going to smash his face just for talking “sweetly” to Tessa.
Steve’s chuckle eventually was joined by Tessa’s own short giggle. By the sound of laughter, it seemed Tessa allowed herself to relax in her seat. She leaned slightly on an elbow and tucked her hair deftly behind her ear.
“He wouldn’t have done it, you know,” she said smartly.
“What, punch me? The guy was a walking bomb, Tess,” argued Steve, “He would’ve punched someone sooner or later. Where did you dig him up? You never said.”
“Let’s say I wanted to forget about him as quickly as possible,” mumbled Tessa, averting his curious eyes.
A sudden sense of secrecy washed over him and Steve suspected Tessa was holding back on something, particularly to do with the Jason guy. Foreboding entered his mind and Steve was about to ask when Tessa picked up her menu and said, a little high-pitched, “You know what you want yet?”
Hesitating for second, Steve finally conceded and picked up his own menu. He perused the choices before replying, “Steak looks good.” He glanced at one of the other tables where he saw someone was eating a delicious-looking steak. “Wonder what that is?”
Tessa followed his glance before flashing him a smile. “You could always ask, but I’d say it looks like number 23. The one with crusted potatoes and onions.”
Steve gave a sound of agreement before turning the question around at her.
“Oh, I don’t know,” she said undecidedly, in a way Steve had recognised most women grasped when they actually knew what they wanted but was, by some mysterious reason, unwilling to say so outright. Tessa did not look embarrassed, however, only in doubt. She bit her lower lip between her teeth. He thought it was kind of cute and smiled into his menu.
Moments later, when the waiter appeared, it seemed that Tessa had indeed made up her mind about dinner as she recited her choice – chicken and pasta salad – to him without fault. After Steve had told the waiter his choice, she surprised him by adding two glasses of champagne to the order. He must have shown his feelings on his face or somehow because she glanced at him and almost rolled her eyes.
“We are celebrating, you know,” she stated matter-of-factly.
Yeah, he knew that. He had just not …
Steve let his genuine smile spread across his still slightly tight cheeks. “Thanks,” he said honestly. “I—“
“Think nothing of it, Sergeant,” interjected Tessa, grinning. “Come Monday you’ll be able to boss me around to your heart’s desire, so enjoy this pampering while it lasts.”
“Oh?” challenged Steve, unable to stop himself from leaning slightly across the table, resting his chin in his hands. Taken aback, Tessa flustered a little before raising her chin defiantly, accepting his challenge. She leaned in from the other side.
“Don’t imagine for a moment, sir, that you’ll have it easy just because we know each other,” she promised, her eyes sparkling in the candlelight.
“That sounds a lot like a challenge, Constable. Sure you’re up to it?” he asked slowly, teasingly, momentarily mesmerised by the brilliant grin flashing across her face.
“After six years, I think I’ll be able to manage, Sergeant,” said Tessa, defiance and amusement splashed into her face. “I haven’t put up with Thorne for so long and not come out with a trick or two.”
“Then I’m going to look forward to it, Detective Vance,” said Steve, unable to keep his grin from bursting onto his features. “Just beware. When you’re not paying attention …” He left it on a pledging note, drawing it out while locked in a staring contest with her.
Abruptly, the moment was broken as the waiter returned with their glasses and a bottle of champagne. Steve leaned back with a chuckle while Tessa looked embarrassed, her hand reaching up to tuck more curly blonde hair behind her ears as the waiter poured their glasses. When the waiter retreated silently in the wake of their vocal gratitude, Steve looked at Tessa with anticipation in his stomach, only to have another grin latched onto his face at Tessa’s red-cheeked, twinkling smile.
“To your promotion,” cheered Tessa, picking up her glass and raising it into the air. Steve was quick to follow, clinking the edge of her glass, saying, “To my promotion.”
Both eyed the other over the rim of their glasses, both smiling, as they drank the sweet, sparkling champagne. Steve could not deny feeling … excited. And the night had just begun.
***
(To be continued?)
Fandom: Murder Call
Characters: Tessa Vance, Steve Hayden
Prompt: 058. Dinner
Word Count: 1260
Rating: G (K)
Summary: A celebratory dinner might be the nudge they need to take the next step forward.
Author’s Note: I think this could be the start of a small series of one-shorts concerning the development of Tessa and Steve's relationship. At this point I'm unsure, but I thought it was a nice one-shot and wanted to post it in case I never get around to finish it. I've got too many one-shots just lying on my computer that I never put up.
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters. They belong to Jennifer Rowe, Hal McElroy and Southern Star. I make no profit out of this.
WHAT WE WANT
It was sudden, impulsive, and completely thrilling. One moment he had come from his meeting with the Superintendent, the next she had suggested they go out to celebrate. He had expected a round of drinks with the gang down at the Stars & Moon pub so when she pulled up in front of a fancy restaurant he had been dumbfounded. Yet when she sent him a single hesitant glance he had quickly assured her it was a great idea.
And here they were, sitting opposite each other like they were prone to do, with the only exception being their setting. No white-board off to the side with crime scene photos and scribbled notes, no desks teeming with yellow-beige folders, newspapers and photos, no looming sense of sobriety. The gloomy office had been replaced by a classy, sophisticated locale with modern shades of red and black, and lamps along the walls turned low to fit the intimate air set off by the small candles on the tables. If she had not been as surprised as him upon entering the restaurant, he would have wondered if she knew the place from beforehand.
Glancing across the table, Steve Hayden perused his partner sitting stock-still in her chair, her shoulders raised just a little and her throat tense. Her beautiful clear blue eyes surveyed the other patrons instead of looking at the menu an elegantly dressed waiter had brought them as they sat down. Did she already know what she wanted, he wondered?
“You been here before?” he asked curiously.
Tessa Vance gave a little start as her chin swung around from peering at a group of people clustered together in a corner. She had the deer-caught-in-headlights look upon her and Steve could not help but give her a wide smirk as he nodded in the general direction of the restaurant.
Blushing a little, Tessa grinned. “No, I haven’t. Well, that’s not quite true. I’ve been in the neighbourhood, but I’ve never been here. Jason took me to the diner across the road once,” she explained when Steve raised his eyebrows slightly.
“Jason, huh? That the guy who threatened to punch me or the guy who wrote you love letters before your first date?” Steve recalled both incidents clearly, each of them highly amusing in hindsight. He grinned widely, feeling his facial muscles stretch a bit uncomfortably.
If she had not been blushing before, Tessa was certainly rosy-cheeked now. “The punch threat guy,” she murmured demurely, embarrassed. She did not say anything else, her silence drawing Steve into a chuckle.
Though he had highly mistrusted the guy at the time and not really understood why Tessa willingly went on dates with him, he could only see the humour in the situation where the burly five-foot-six had glared up at him and swore he was going to smash his face just for talking “sweetly” to Tessa.
Steve’s chuckle eventually was joined by Tessa’s own short giggle. By the sound of laughter, it seemed Tessa allowed herself to relax in her seat. She leaned slightly on an elbow and tucked her hair deftly behind her ear.
“He wouldn’t have done it, you know,” she said smartly.
“What, punch me? The guy was a walking bomb, Tess,” argued Steve, “He would’ve punched someone sooner or later. Where did you dig him up? You never said.”
“Let’s say I wanted to forget about him as quickly as possible,” mumbled Tessa, averting his curious eyes.
A sudden sense of secrecy washed over him and Steve suspected Tessa was holding back on something, particularly to do with the Jason guy. Foreboding entered his mind and Steve was about to ask when Tessa picked up her menu and said, a little high-pitched, “You know what you want yet?”
Hesitating for second, Steve finally conceded and picked up his own menu. He perused the choices before replying, “Steak looks good.” He glanced at one of the other tables where he saw someone was eating a delicious-looking steak. “Wonder what that is?”
Tessa followed his glance before flashing him a smile. “You could always ask, but I’d say it looks like number 23. The one with crusted potatoes and onions.”
Steve gave a sound of agreement before turning the question around at her.
“Oh, I don’t know,” she said undecidedly, in a way Steve had recognised most women grasped when they actually knew what they wanted but was, by some mysterious reason, unwilling to say so outright. Tessa did not look embarrassed, however, only in doubt. She bit her lower lip between her teeth. He thought it was kind of cute and smiled into his menu.
Moments later, when the waiter appeared, it seemed that Tessa had indeed made up her mind about dinner as she recited her choice – chicken and pasta salad – to him without fault. After Steve had told the waiter his choice, she surprised him by adding two glasses of champagne to the order. He must have shown his feelings on his face or somehow because she glanced at him and almost rolled her eyes.
“We are celebrating, you know,” she stated matter-of-factly.
Yeah, he knew that. He had just not …
Steve let his genuine smile spread across his still slightly tight cheeks. “Thanks,” he said honestly. “I—“
“Think nothing of it, Sergeant,” interjected Tessa, grinning. “Come Monday you’ll be able to boss me around to your heart’s desire, so enjoy this pampering while it lasts.”
“Oh?” challenged Steve, unable to stop himself from leaning slightly across the table, resting his chin in his hands. Taken aback, Tessa flustered a little before raising her chin defiantly, accepting his challenge. She leaned in from the other side.
“Don’t imagine for a moment, sir, that you’ll have it easy just because we know each other,” she promised, her eyes sparkling in the candlelight.
“That sounds a lot like a challenge, Constable. Sure you’re up to it?” he asked slowly, teasingly, momentarily mesmerised by the brilliant grin flashing across her face.
“After six years, I think I’ll be able to manage, Sergeant,” said Tessa, defiance and amusement splashed into her face. “I haven’t put up with Thorne for so long and not come out with a trick or two.”
“Then I’m going to look forward to it, Detective Vance,” said Steve, unable to keep his grin from bursting onto his features. “Just beware. When you’re not paying attention …” He left it on a pledging note, drawing it out while locked in a staring contest with her.
Abruptly, the moment was broken as the waiter returned with their glasses and a bottle of champagne. Steve leaned back with a chuckle while Tessa looked embarrassed, her hand reaching up to tuck more curly blonde hair behind her ears as the waiter poured their glasses. When the waiter retreated silently in the wake of their vocal gratitude, Steve looked at Tessa with anticipation in his stomach, only to have another grin latched onto his face at Tessa’s red-cheeked, twinkling smile.
“To your promotion,” cheered Tessa, picking up her glass and raising it into the air. Steve was quick to follow, clinking the edge of her glass, saying, “To my promotion.”
Both eyed the other over the rim of their glasses, both smiling, as they drank the sweet, sparkling champagne. Steve could not deny feeling … excited. And the night had just begun.
***
(To be continued?)
torsdag 14. august 2008
Fic: Calling Daddy
Title: Calling Daddy
Fandom: Murder Call
Characters: Tessa Vance, Steve Hayden, Original Character
Prompt: 027. Parents
Word Count: 1298
Rating: G (K)
Summary: Despite the hour, some girls just want their daddies. Too bad daddies don’t always understand the problem.
Author’s Note: A small one-shot I did after I’d written “Crazy”. For some reason, those kids are just stuck in my head and I could picture so many scenes involving the little Vance-Hayden family I made up. This story, however, is not set in that particular universe, as Tessa and Steve still work together, and they only have one child.
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters. They belong to Jennifer Rowe, Hal McElroy and Southern Star. I make no profit out of this.
Fandom: Murder Call
Characters: Tessa Vance, Steve Hayden, Original Character
Prompt: 027. Parents
Word Count: 1298
Rating: G (K)
Summary: Despite the hour, some girls just want their daddies. Too bad daddies don’t always understand the problem.
Author’s Note: A small one-shot I did after I’d written “Crazy”. For some reason, those kids are just stuck in my head and I could picture so many scenes involving the little Vance-Hayden family I made up. This story, however, is not set in that particular universe, as Tessa and Steve still work together, and they only have one child.
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters. They belong to Jennifer Rowe, Hal McElroy and Southern Star. I make no profit out of this.
CALLING DADDY
The shrill ring of a phone setting off jerked him out of his sleep with a start. For a second he wondered why the hell he had woken up, before hearing the ringing. He half groaned, half sighed, as he leaned over and flipped on the bedside light before picking up his cell phone. The caller ID already warned him who it was.
“You’ve got this after your mother,” Steve Hayden grumbled into the phone, running a hand across his face to rub the sleep out of his eyes.
“I’m sorry, Dad, I forgot about the time difference. I just. . .” The tender voice at the other end drifted off. Along with insomnia, insecurity ran closely in the family and Steve grimaced. He was becoming a grumpy old bugger.
“No, I’m sorry, Chrissie,” Steve said, his voice softer. He sat up against the headboard as the bed shifted beside him. He lowered his voice when he spoke. “What’s wrong?”
“There’s nothing wrong,” replied Christine Hayden evasively and Steve almost snorted. She seemed to hear it anyway and sighed. “Okay, okay. I ran into some trouble at school and. . .”
“And?” prompted Steve, fighting off the migraine he felt coming – result of the barely two hours of sleep he’d gotten so far, as well as impatience over his daughter’s reluctance to simply admit what she had done this time.
“I’m suspended for two weeks,” finished Christine finally, dropping the bomb he had been waiting for since the first time she called him at night saying she had gotten into some trouble.
“Chrissie. . .” he sighed.
“I know, I know, all right? It’s just—that guy! He’s such a stupid, ridiculous arse! Always hanging on me and fussing things up.”
“What’s going on?” the woman beside him mumbled, also dragging a hand across her eyes, squinting in the light from the bedside lamp. It had been a late night for both of them.
“Your daughter’s been suspended,” muttered Steve off the phone, holding a hand over the receiver.
“Shit! Is Mum awake?” asked Christine frantically. Her hearing was exceptional, there was no doubt about that.
Steve turned back to the phone. “Yeah, she is. Now, Chrissie, didn’t we talk about this? You remember promising me you weren’t going to get into more trouble?” Christine groaned into the phone. “You just can’t go around solving problems that way.”
“Mum did,” Christine defended.
“Well, your Mum’s a wacko case. You can’t follow her example.” Despite the seriousness he tried to put forth, Steve couldn’t help the grin on his face, knowing that no matter what he said, both his girls would stay the way they were. He hoped, however, to lessen the damage somewhat. “Now what’s up with this guy?”
“Steve,” said Tessa Vance-Hayden warningly, turning on the bedside light on her side and propping herself up on one elbow. Not surprisingly, she was already wide-awake.
“Everything’s up with him!” exclaimed Christine on the other end. “He just can’t stop buggering me!”
“Well, did you tell him to stop?” he asked.
Christine snorted, and from the corner of his eye Steve could see Tessa rolling her eyes with a smirk.
“Yeah, Dad, I did. Right before I asked him nicely to join a Tupperware party and read Cosmo.”
Although Steve might be less travelled in the circles of female minds, he did recognise when he was being patronised. Tessa reached over him and took the phone away despite his protests.
“Hi, sweetie, it’s Mum,” greeted Tessa. Steve let out a small huff of annoyance before settling next to his wife with a frown. “Listen to your Dad, okay? No more trouble-hunting.” She gave him a look, saw his expression, and grinned. “Why don’t you and I talk a bit more about this tomorrow? The old grump and I have an early meeting, and you need some rest as well. Love you too, sweetie. Bye.” She hung up and offered him the cell phone with a smirk that made him even more annoyed.
Accepting the phone stonily, Steve put it within easy reach on his nightstand and made to turn off the light when Tessa’s arms snaked around his bare chest.
“Your womanly charms won’t work,” he told her gruffly.
“You’re such a sweetheart,” Tessa teased gently, snuggling closer to his back and never relinquishing her grip. “You absolutely hate the idea she’s moved out, don’t you?”
Steve didn’t reply, instead turning off the light, and was forced to hear Tessa’s wonderful chuckle in his ear. In the darkness it made the sensation of her breath against his nape send a small shiver down his spine.
“Christine’s just growing up, Steve. She’s learning right from wrong in her own way. You’re not making it any easier on her.”
“Maybe,” Steve said inconclusively, finally sighing. “She could’ve chosen some place closer.”
“Says he who moved, what, 200 miles away from home to attend school? You know, Europe happens to be a very friendly place,” said Tessa lightly, making sure he heard the teasing in her voice. “I found it very exciting.”
“Exactly. That’s what I’m afraid of. She’s just like you.”
Tessa sighed heavily, reaching up to stroke his chin lovingly. “Steve. . . Why do you think she called your cell phone?” When he didn’t answer, she continued. “She looks up to you. She wants you to guide her. But that means you can’t push her or intimidate her. Your opinion has always been worth the most to her, even if you can’t always understand what she wants.”
It took several long moments before Steve managed to answer, exhaling noisily first. “I just don’t like her being so far away.”
“I know,” Tessa soothed, nuzzling his neck and resting her head on his shoulder. “But she has to learn to take care of herself, you know, like any nineteen-year-old. You can’t protect her forever. Not even from annoying guys who’s crushing on her.”
“What’d you mean?” asked Steve suddenly, frowning. Tessa chuckled.
“It’s obvious there’s some sort of attraction going on between them. I know Chrissie doesn’t sound like it, but I do believe she enjoys his ‘annoying’ prescence more than she lets on.”
“How do you know?”
“I’m her mother,” Tessa replied obviously, kissing the nape of his neck. “I know these things. And I was just like her when I first met you.”
Steve couldn’t help his features softening slightly. Romance wasn’t his forte, but sometimes his wife could drive him to mush. “You’re still like that, you know. Crazy, obsessed, getting into trouble.”
“Mm,” hummed Tessa, stroking his skin slowly.
“But I guess you’ve matured a bit since then,” said Steve mock-hesitantly, earning him a gentle swat.
“I’d hope so!” Tessa’s eyes twinkled in the dim darkness. “More than twenty years with you and a kid; I’d say I’ve gotten a bit more responsible.”
“In here, perhaps, but not out there,” Steve reminded her with a grin. She was still running across busy streets and entering suspect houses without waiting for backup.
He finally rolled over on his back, drawing his arms around her and pulling her close. He pressed a kiss to her shampoo-scented hair. “I’m glad, though.”
“That I’m still crazy and obsessed?” retorted Tessa in a mumble as she draped a leg across his under the sheets.
Minx, thought Steve with an inward grin as he said, “Yes. That means I still have the highest solve rate by association.”
Tessa laughed, snaking her arms around him langoriously, eyes twinkling. “That’s not the only thing you have by association.”
“That’s right,” Steve murmured, dipping low to kiss her lips. “So. . . You awake yet?”
“More than awake for what you have in mind,” Tessa grinned.
“Reading my mind are you?”
“Always.”
END
The shrill ring of a phone setting off jerked him out of his sleep with a start. For a second he wondered why the hell he had woken up, before hearing the ringing. He half groaned, half sighed, as he leaned over and flipped on the bedside light before picking up his cell phone. The caller ID already warned him who it was.
“You’ve got this after your mother,” Steve Hayden grumbled into the phone, running a hand across his face to rub the sleep out of his eyes.
“I’m sorry, Dad, I forgot about the time difference. I just. . .” The tender voice at the other end drifted off. Along with insomnia, insecurity ran closely in the family and Steve grimaced. He was becoming a grumpy old bugger.
“No, I’m sorry, Chrissie,” Steve said, his voice softer. He sat up against the headboard as the bed shifted beside him. He lowered his voice when he spoke. “What’s wrong?”
“There’s nothing wrong,” replied Christine Hayden evasively and Steve almost snorted. She seemed to hear it anyway and sighed. “Okay, okay. I ran into some trouble at school and. . .”
“And?” prompted Steve, fighting off the migraine he felt coming – result of the barely two hours of sleep he’d gotten so far, as well as impatience over his daughter’s reluctance to simply admit what she had done this time.
“I’m suspended for two weeks,” finished Christine finally, dropping the bomb he had been waiting for since the first time she called him at night saying she had gotten into some trouble.
“Chrissie. . .” he sighed.
“I know, I know, all right? It’s just—that guy! He’s such a stupid, ridiculous arse! Always hanging on me and fussing things up.”
“What’s going on?” the woman beside him mumbled, also dragging a hand across her eyes, squinting in the light from the bedside lamp. It had been a late night for both of them.
“Your daughter’s been suspended,” muttered Steve off the phone, holding a hand over the receiver.
“Shit! Is Mum awake?” asked Christine frantically. Her hearing was exceptional, there was no doubt about that.
Steve turned back to the phone. “Yeah, she is. Now, Chrissie, didn’t we talk about this? You remember promising me you weren’t going to get into more trouble?” Christine groaned into the phone. “You just can’t go around solving problems that way.”
“Mum did,” Christine defended.
“Well, your Mum’s a wacko case. You can’t follow her example.” Despite the seriousness he tried to put forth, Steve couldn’t help the grin on his face, knowing that no matter what he said, both his girls would stay the way they were. He hoped, however, to lessen the damage somewhat. “Now what’s up with this guy?”
“Steve,” said Tessa Vance-Hayden warningly, turning on the bedside light on her side and propping herself up on one elbow. Not surprisingly, she was already wide-awake.
“Everything’s up with him!” exclaimed Christine on the other end. “He just can’t stop buggering me!”
“Well, did you tell him to stop?” he asked.
Christine snorted, and from the corner of his eye Steve could see Tessa rolling her eyes with a smirk.
“Yeah, Dad, I did. Right before I asked him nicely to join a Tupperware party and read Cosmo.”
Although Steve might be less travelled in the circles of female minds, he did recognise when he was being patronised. Tessa reached over him and took the phone away despite his protests.
“Hi, sweetie, it’s Mum,” greeted Tessa. Steve let out a small huff of annoyance before settling next to his wife with a frown. “Listen to your Dad, okay? No more trouble-hunting.” She gave him a look, saw his expression, and grinned. “Why don’t you and I talk a bit more about this tomorrow? The old grump and I have an early meeting, and you need some rest as well. Love you too, sweetie. Bye.” She hung up and offered him the cell phone with a smirk that made him even more annoyed.
Accepting the phone stonily, Steve put it within easy reach on his nightstand and made to turn off the light when Tessa’s arms snaked around his bare chest.
“Your womanly charms won’t work,” he told her gruffly.
“You’re such a sweetheart,” Tessa teased gently, snuggling closer to his back and never relinquishing her grip. “You absolutely hate the idea she’s moved out, don’t you?”
Steve didn’t reply, instead turning off the light, and was forced to hear Tessa’s wonderful chuckle in his ear. In the darkness it made the sensation of her breath against his nape send a small shiver down his spine.
“Christine’s just growing up, Steve. She’s learning right from wrong in her own way. You’re not making it any easier on her.”
“Maybe,” Steve said inconclusively, finally sighing. “She could’ve chosen some place closer.”
“Says he who moved, what, 200 miles away from home to attend school? You know, Europe happens to be a very friendly place,” said Tessa lightly, making sure he heard the teasing in her voice. “I found it very exciting.”
“Exactly. That’s what I’m afraid of. She’s just like you.”
Tessa sighed heavily, reaching up to stroke his chin lovingly. “Steve. . . Why do you think she called your cell phone?” When he didn’t answer, she continued. “She looks up to you. She wants you to guide her. But that means you can’t push her or intimidate her. Your opinion has always been worth the most to her, even if you can’t always understand what she wants.”
It took several long moments before Steve managed to answer, exhaling noisily first. “I just don’t like her being so far away.”
“I know,” Tessa soothed, nuzzling his neck and resting her head on his shoulder. “But she has to learn to take care of herself, you know, like any nineteen-year-old. You can’t protect her forever. Not even from annoying guys who’s crushing on her.”
“What’d you mean?” asked Steve suddenly, frowning. Tessa chuckled.
“It’s obvious there’s some sort of attraction going on between them. I know Chrissie doesn’t sound like it, but I do believe she enjoys his ‘annoying’ prescence more than she lets on.”
“How do you know?”
“I’m her mother,” Tessa replied obviously, kissing the nape of his neck. “I know these things. And I was just like her when I first met you.”
Steve couldn’t help his features softening slightly. Romance wasn’t his forte, but sometimes his wife could drive him to mush. “You’re still like that, you know. Crazy, obsessed, getting into trouble.”
“Mm,” hummed Tessa, stroking his skin slowly.
“But I guess you’ve matured a bit since then,” said Steve mock-hesitantly, earning him a gentle swat.
“I’d hope so!” Tessa’s eyes twinkled in the dim darkness. “More than twenty years with you and a kid; I’d say I’ve gotten a bit more responsible.”
“In here, perhaps, but not out there,” Steve reminded her with a grin. She was still running across busy streets and entering suspect houses without waiting for backup.
He finally rolled over on his back, drawing his arms around her and pulling her close. He pressed a kiss to her shampoo-scented hair. “I’m glad, though.”
“That I’m still crazy and obsessed?” retorted Tessa in a mumble as she draped a leg across his under the sheets.
Minx, thought Steve with an inward grin as he said, “Yes. That means I still have the highest solve rate by association.”
Tessa laughed, snaking her arms around him langoriously, eyes twinkling. “That’s not the only thing you have by association.”
“That’s right,” Steve murmured, dipping low to kiss her lips. “So. . . You awake yet?”
“More than awake for what you have in mind,” Tessa grinned.
“Reading my mind are you?”
“Always.”
END
torsdag 26. juni 2008
Fic: Scent of Comfort
Title: Scent of Comfort
Fandom: Murder Call
Characters: Tessa Vance, Steve Hayden, Dee Suzeraine, Lance Fisk, Imogen ‘Tootsie’ Soames
Prompt: 036. Smell
Word Count: 2945
Rating: PG (K+)
Summary: After a traumatic experience a friend is in need of comfort.
Author’s Note: Coda to “Scent of Evil” (3x17) SPOILERS! SPOILERS! SPOILERS! SPOILERS! Do not read if you do not wish to be spoiled. Also a small mention of Brett, Tessa’s ex-boyfriend from novel Deadline / Suspect by Jennifer Rowe.
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters. They belong to Jennifer Rowe, Hal McElroy and Southern Star. I make no profit out of this.
SCENT OF COMFORT
Emma Chambers: They can smell your fear.
Tessa Vance: Open the gate! (Chambers sprays the communicative scent on Tessa) No! (Chambers walks away)
(Steve arrives at the kennel. Chambers meet him in the hallway.)
Emma Chambers: The dogs’ve gone crazy – I can’t control them!
Steve Hayden: Where’s Detective Vance?
Emma Chambers: I’m gonna get help! (Steve is suspicious, runs off in the direction Chambers came from)
Steve Hayden: Tessa! Tessa!
Tessa Vance: (Lying on the ground trying to reach her gun under the fence door) I’m here! Over here, Steve! Open the gate! Get me the gun!
(Steve manage to get her out)
(From 'Scent of Evil', Murder Call, 3x17)
***
Detective Senior Constable Tessa Vance shut the door behind her with a loud click as the deadlock slid in place. For a moment she fingered with the chain, before leaving it hanging limply along the frame of the door. It was a silly notion to lock everything behind her. It would not bring any more comfort or security than she already had.
She turned on a small lamp by the grey couch, ignoring the red blinking light of the answering machine as she threw the handbag on top of the dining table. Shirking out of the high heels, Tessa felt cool surface touch the soles of her feet and fleetingly wondered if she should put some socks on. She never made it into the bedroom, however, as she drifted back towards the couch and slumped heavily into the cushions.
It was as if the smell was still on her even if she couldn’t sense it herself. That fact made it all worse. Not being able to sense the thing that made her a walking target for four-legged beings with snapping jaws...How lucky she had been to know about it rather than be taken by surprise. A very deadly surprise. The thought gave her no comfort either.
Standing up on her feet Tessa made her way into the bathroom, shedding the replacement jacket she had picked up before returning to the office. Following the jacket into the hamper was the white sweater and black pants, then the stockings. The underwear landed on the bathroom floor and the next moment she had hot water streaming down her face and body. With a good handful of soap she started rubbing it in, never bothering to turn the water off in the meantime, scrubbing and scrubbing until she felt hot and prickly all over.
Her chest started heaving as she saw the skin redden and she imagined the blood running all over her stomach and arms... Burning eyes unleashed tears that were swallowed by the hot water splashing on her face. She didn’t care about being careful lest her skin dry up. She didn’t care about washing her hair nurturingly once or twice. All she could see behind closed lids and hear beyond the water clouding her ears was the malicious grin through thin-wired fence and the voice dripping with taunting venom as the dogs growled behind her.
“They can smell your fear.”
Tessa slid down to the floor of the shower, wrapping her arms around her legs as the water still sprayed down on her. It was still there. That scent. She couldn’t shake it off. She couldn’t wash it off. It had ingrained itself into her skin.
Her throat constricted brokenly.
***
Watching the spunky redhead down the last ball, Detective Senior Constable Steve Hayden did the obligatory downcast chin as he acknowledged her victory.
“That’s three beers you owe me!” said Constable Dee Suzeraine with a wide smirk, to which Steve only shrugged with an acquiescing smile. “Another game?”
“Nah, not tonight,” said Steve. “I think I’m gonna take off.” He laid the cue down on the empty pool table. Dee only shrugged, not one to be easily down.
“Hey, it’s your loss. Don’t think you can skip out on those beers though!” Dee flashed him a grin and Steve chuckled.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said.
Moving away from the pool table he found Fisk and Tootsie in another of their heated discussions, and, by the sound of it, the medical examiner still hadn’t gotten over the fact that their dear forensic expert owned a hermit crab called Howard. Neither had Steve for the matter of fact, but he was saving the ribbing for another day. His head was filled with other thoughts right now.
“I’m calling it a night,” he told them during a break of their discussion, picking up his jacket from a nearby chair. Fisk only nodded but Tootsie gave him a penetrable look.
“You dropping by Tessa’s?” she asked. Steve nodded. Tootsie didn’t say anything else, however, only inclining her head thoughtfully.
“See ya,” he said, feeling a bit of tension return to his neck underneath the stare of the medical examiner. Getting out of the crowded bar and into fresh air did wonders, and he breathed in the crisp night air deeply, feeling the tension leave as he strode back towards the Central.
As he walked along the half-empty pavement, Steve suddenly heard the bark of dogs in the distance. His head whipped up, half expecting to see his partner close to being mauled by frenzied dogs. Only dark streets barely illuminated by lamp posts and the usual noise of a sleepless city met his senses. No fences, no frightened voice calling out to him...
He shook his head. It wasn’t often he experienced these things and he wanted nothing more than to rid himself of them. The loss of control was eerily uncomfortable and he felt slightly lonely where he strode along the pavement, only passed once in a while by dark cabs and cars.
Turning at an intersection, Steve walked up to the garage door leading to the underground parking lot below the Central. He found his card and swiped it before punching the code. The door next to the wide carport opened and he stepped inside, closing it firmly behind him. Every city noise immediately silenced and there was only him and his footsteps.
The car was parked exactly where he had left it, a dark blue sedan most commonly used by civilian-clad officers. Without further ado he unlocked it and got in, moments later firing up the engine. Soon he was back at the carport, which opened with the push of a button installed next to the wheel, and rolled onto the street.
Joining the scarce line of cars out on the city streets, Steve couldn’t help but drift off again into thought. He looked at the phone he had fastened next to the stereo. No messages, no replies. It had been silent all night. No response to the many calls he had made to her cell phone and home phone. He wondered what she was doing; if going by her place would only be a dead end.
Though they had known each other for little more than two years now, Steve had started to get to know the enigma he had for a partner. Tessa Vance may be brilliant and obsessed, but when dealing with traumatic experiences she sought to familiar surroundings, whatever they may be. Occasionally he found her at home, other times she had been elsewhere. She hid, it was as easy as that. It was understandable, though. She had never been one for drinking and thus didn’t exactly share his and the others’ way of unwinding. Still, Steve had no idea what she usually did, but today seemed like one of those days he ought to find out.
***
Tessa had managed to pick herself off the shower floor once the water ran cold and get into some warm clothes. As if having regained some control, she towel-dried her curly hair and combed it back behind her ears, before finding soft flannel pants and t-shirt from her wardrobe to wear. She now lay on top of the covers of the bed; the windows were open but not offering very cool air. The sound of cars and distant voices reached her ears as she stared unseeingly on the wall, faintly registering the sounds before they vanished from her mind the next second.
She hugged her legs in the foetal-like position she had implemented, her throat sore and her eyes dry but burning still. She was so tired, but sleep eluded her as always. Nights had always been her worst moments and today’s events had certainly done nothing to improve the situation. It had in fact made it worse. At least that was her current hypothesis. All the clues were there right in front of her, taunting her, hounding her, never going to disappear. No matter how hard she tried, no sleep would come to her tonight.
Even a long, hot shower couldn’t rid her of the indiscernible scent.
The sudden knock on her door startled her, making her shoot up in bed and look around in frenzy, her heart pulsing wildly in her throat. The bark of a dog from somewhere impacted on her senses and Tessa jumped again, grasping the bed covers tightly in her hands, gasping as the familiar sense of dread penetrated her perception.
The dogs were there, staring at her. She had ignored the rule of not staring back into their eyes, thus instigating them to further action. It had been her fault. She hadn’t even checked if someone was around before she approached the fenced-in dog house! And now that face was staring at her again—
The knocking persisted, pulling her out of her thoughts, grounding her, reminding her she was not at the kennel. Not at the mercy of a malicious grin and growling dogs...
Tessa slid out of bed, her bare feet stumbling quickly towards the door as the raps became impatient. She twisted the deadlock and wrenched the door open, startled once again when she saw who was on the other side.
“Steve!”
Indeed, there he stood, her partner, looking very concerned above his loosened tie and open jacket.
“Tessa, are you okay?” he asked, eyebrows knitting together. Not knowing quite what to say she only pushed the door open. He strode through, pausing as he looked around the dark apartment only lit by the small lamp next to the couch. His eyes stopped by the still blinking answering machine.
“I called you several times,” he said, turning to look at her. Tessa stared dumbfounded at the blinking red light, still at a loss for words. “Hey.” He was suddenly next to her, hands on her shoulders. Those wonderful gentle eyes goaded her to look at him again.
Tessa felt her lower lip start to tremble and squeezed her eyes shut, knowing that any minute the tears would return if he continued staring at her like that. It didn’t help; it only brought them on in full force. The next thing she knew she was crumbling and then something warm was wrapped around her and a chin was nuzzling her hair as distinctive male smell permeated her senses.
***
Steve held the sleeping woman in his arms, reeling in everything that had happened. The broken woman meeting him at the door had been a shock, but somehow he got over it and set his mind on a different track. It had been instinct that drove him towards her and when she had started to cry he couldn’t help hugging her.
From the floor to the couch had been an easy enough affair, despite him carrying nearly all of her weight. She was a very small woman, he realised, and without her heels she barely reached his shoulders. And at the moment he could not see that brave and tough face she put on along with her trouser suits, only a woman who was vulnerable and insecure. Somehow the thought troubled him, but he didn’t know how or why.
She had cried herself to sleep. He didn’t know how long he had sat there, but she must have been exhausted nonetheless. By the looks of it, she had done nothing else either since she got home. No kitchen smell, no clutter, and he was sure he had caught glimpses of discarded clothes along the path into her bedroom. Only the damp hair against his shirt told tales of what she had done.
The thoughts flittering through his mind as he listened to her deep breaths were anything but organised. It was disconcerting, to say the least. He felt like he could barely control what was going on.
Although Tessa had not spoken a word, he knew her distress had to be due to the incident at the kennel today. Frankly, he had to be honest and say he was uncomfortable with the event as well. Seeing her trapped inside that cage, hearing her frenzied voice calling his name... Steve had to admit his hands had been shaking as they pried the gate open, his heart had been pounding and every second he had wondered if the dogs were going to abandon the item they were tearing apart and go for her instead. Then the door was open and she had run off as far as she could from the doghouse, giving him no other choice but to follow.
In hindsight, he wasn’t truly surprised. He had gotten used to running after her whenever she got it into her head to take off. He had, however, managed to sit her down while he went after the killer. In her state he hadn’t trusted her behind the wheels. He had, though, left her on her own tonight while he went to the bar to unwind.
Steve looked down at her calm features, gazing at the red and sore cheeks that even in her sleep made her look fragile and wounded. He regretted his trip to the bar right now, even if it was useless to think about such things now. What’s done was done and he couldn’t change that.
With a smirk Steve thought that no matter what he should or shouldn’t have done, sitting on his partner’s couch and holding her like he would a child wasn’t exactly what he had imagined anyway. Sure there had been hugs, but nothing quite like this.
Without thinking, he brushed a stray hair away from her face and was caught off guard when she sought further into his palm. Quickly, he withdrew his hand lest he wake her. He needn’t have worried; Tessa slept on without another twitch.
Silently, head swimming with thoughts he thought he had long since suppressed, Steve leaned further into the couch, preparing himself for a long haul.
The next day brought Tessa a major headache along with a kink in her neck. She found herself on the couch, a blanket draped over legs; it seemed to have fallen off her during the night. Confused, it took her befuddled mind a while to think back on what had happened and why she was lying on the couch. Soon her eyes widened as the vague memories filtered back as if in slow motion.
Steve had come last night and she had broken down. Then there had been warmth around her – Steve must have gestured her to the couch and held her – and then only blissful sleep only occasionally disrupted by bad dreams. But whenever she woke, she had taken only a moment to be calmed by another presence before falling asleep again. She had thought she was dreaming when Steve mumbled soft words of comfort to her or when she could sense the wondrous smell that was only his. It had been too surreal to be true. And yet Tessa was very sure it had been all but a dream.
A blush crept up her neck and seeped into her cheeks as Tessa clutched the blanket in her hands and inhaled. It was very faint, but she thought she could smell his scent still. It was musk and that particular scent that was solely his. Not even Brett had smelled so good.
Her eyes flew open as she shut her mind firmly to the thoughts that started to roam freely. Seeking a distraction, she looked around and found the apartment empty, eerily lit up with the rays of an early sun beyond the curtains. One of the rays caught off on something white by the dining table, and Tessa realised it was a piece of paper. As far as she knew, it had not been there yesterday.
Standing up on her feet, rolling her sore shoulders – whatever position she had lain in last night had not been good for her joints – and bending her head sideways to try working out the kink in her neck, Tessa went to the table. The joints felt marginally better, but she forgot all about the dulled pain once the note was in her hands.
It was from Steve.
Good morning!
You must have the worst kink today... Let me know and I’ll rub it for you.
Don’t bother coming in for work today. I’ll chase you home the minute I see you! I’ll take care of the remaining paperwork. You just rest up. You seem like you need it.
And if you need to talk to someone, I’m here. There’s no reason to hide away. You’ve got nothing to be ashamed off, and you certainly won’t feel better either. Like they say, you can run but you can’t hide.
Take care, Tess.
Steve
P.S. I’ll warn everyone to watch out for you, so don’t bother trying to sneak around me to get back to work!
A wide grin accompanied a chuckle, and Tessa felt momentarily better. Actually, when she thought about it and apart from the sore neck and shoulders, she felt loads better.
She read the note one more time, grinned, and laid it down on the table top. She wrapped her arms around herself as she stared back on the couch, imagining how the scene had looked last night.
Last night, no words had been exchanged, but none had been needed. Theirs was a relationship with little words. By his presence he had comforted her and Tessa felt immensely better. As long as she knew he was there for her, she could manage.
She picked up the blanket from the couch and inhaled the faint scent again.
END
Fandom: Murder Call
Characters: Tessa Vance, Steve Hayden, Dee Suzeraine, Lance Fisk, Imogen ‘Tootsie’ Soames
Prompt: 036. Smell
Word Count: 2945
Rating: PG (K+)
Summary: After a traumatic experience a friend is in need of comfort.
Author’s Note: Coda to “Scent of Evil” (3x17) SPOILERS! SPOILERS! SPOILERS! SPOILERS! Do not read if you do not wish to be spoiled. Also a small mention of Brett, Tessa’s ex-boyfriend from novel Deadline / Suspect by Jennifer Rowe.
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters. They belong to Jennifer Rowe, Hal McElroy and Southern Star. I make no profit out of this.
SCENT OF COMFORT
Emma Chambers: They can smell your fear.
Tessa Vance: Open the gate! (Chambers sprays the communicative scent on Tessa) No! (Chambers walks away)
(Steve arrives at the kennel. Chambers meet him in the hallway.)
Emma Chambers: The dogs’ve gone crazy – I can’t control them!
Steve Hayden: Where’s Detective Vance?
Emma Chambers: I’m gonna get help! (Steve is suspicious, runs off in the direction Chambers came from)
Steve Hayden: Tessa! Tessa!
Tessa Vance: (Lying on the ground trying to reach her gun under the fence door) I’m here! Over here, Steve! Open the gate! Get me the gun!
(Steve manage to get her out)
(From 'Scent of Evil', Murder Call, 3x17)
***
Detective Senior Constable Tessa Vance shut the door behind her with a loud click as the deadlock slid in place. For a moment she fingered with the chain, before leaving it hanging limply along the frame of the door. It was a silly notion to lock everything behind her. It would not bring any more comfort or security than she already had.
She turned on a small lamp by the grey couch, ignoring the red blinking light of the answering machine as she threw the handbag on top of the dining table. Shirking out of the high heels, Tessa felt cool surface touch the soles of her feet and fleetingly wondered if she should put some socks on. She never made it into the bedroom, however, as she drifted back towards the couch and slumped heavily into the cushions.
It was as if the smell was still on her even if she couldn’t sense it herself. That fact made it all worse. Not being able to sense the thing that made her a walking target for four-legged beings with snapping jaws...How lucky she had been to know about it rather than be taken by surprise. A very deadly surprise. The thought gave her no comfort either.
Standing up on her feet Tessa made her way into the bathroom, shedding the replacement jacket she had picked up before returning to the office. Following the jacket into the hamper was the white sweater and black pants, then the stockings. The underwear landed on the bathroom floor and the next moment she had hot water streaming down her face and body. With a good handful of soap she started rubbing it in, never bothering to turn the water off in the meantime, scrubbing and scrubbing until she felt hot and prickly all over.
Her chest started heaving as she saw the skin redden and she imagined the blood running all over her stomach and arms... Burning eyes unleashed tears that were swallowed by the hot water splashing on her face. She didn’t care about being careful lest her skin dry up. She didn’t care about washing her hair nurturingly once or twice. All she could see behind closed lids and hear beyond the water clouding her ears was the malicious grin through thin-wired fence and the voice dripping with taunting venom as the dogs growled behind her.
“They can smell your fear.”
Tessa slid down to the floor of the shower, wrapping her arms around her legs as the water still sprayed down on her. It was still there. That scent. She couldn’t shake it off. She couldn’t wash it off. It had ingrained itself into her skin.
Her throat constricted brokenly.
***
Watching the spunky redhead down the last ball, Detective Senior Constable Steve Hayden did the obligatory downcast chin as he acknowledged her victory.
“That’s three beers you owe me!” said Constable Dee Suzeraine with a wide smirk, to which Steve only shrugged with an acquiescing smile. “Another game?”
“Nah, not tonight,” said Steve. “I think I’m gonna take off.” He laid the cue down on the empty pool table. Dee only shrugged, not one to be easily down.
“Hey, it’s your loss. Don’t think you can skip out on those beers though!” Dee flashed him a grin and Steve chuckled.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said.
Moving away from the pool table he found Fisk and Tootsie in another of their heated discussions, and, by the sound of it, the medical examiner still hadn’t gotten over the fact that their dear forensic expert owned a hermit crab called Howard. Neither had Steve for the matter of fact, but he was saving the ribbing for another day. His head was filled with other thoughts right now.
“I’m calling it a night,” he told them during a break of their discussion, picking up his jacket from a nearby chair. Fisk only nodded but Tootsie gave him a penetrable look.
“You dropping by Tessa’s?” she asked. Steve nodded. Tootsie didn’t say anything else, however, only inclining her head thoughtfully.
“See ya,” he said, feeling a bit of tension return to his neck underneath the stare of the medical examiner. Getting out of the crowded bar and into fresh air did wonders, and he breathed in the crisp night air deeply, feeling the tension leave as he strode back towards the Central.
As he walked along the half-empty pavement, Steve suddenly heard the bark of dogs in the distance. His head whipped up, half expecting to see his partner close to being mauled by frenzied dogs. Only dark streets barely illuminated by lamp posts and the usual noise of a sleepless city met his senses. No fences, no frightened voice calling out to him...
He shook his head. It wasn’t often he experienced these things and he wanted nothing more than to rid himself of them. The loss of control was eerily uncomfortable and he felt slightly lonely where he strode along the pavement, only passed once in a while by dark cabs and cars.
Turning at an intersection, Steve walked up to the garage door leading to the underground parking lot below the Central. He found his card and swiped it before punching the code. The door next to the wide carport opened and he stepped inside, closing it firmly behind him. Every city noise immediately silenced and there was only him and his footsteps.
The car was parked exactly where he had left it, a dark blue sedan most commonly used by civilian-clad officers. Without further ado he unlocked it and got in, moments later firing up the engine. Soon he was back at the carport, which opened with the push of a button installed next to the wheel, and rolled onto the street.
Joining the scarce line of cars out on the city streets, Steve couldn’t help but drift off again into thought. He looked at the phone he had fastened next to the stereo. No messages, no replies. It had been silent all night. No response to the many calls he had made to her cell phone and home phone. He wondered what she was doing; if going by her place would only be a dead end.
Though they had known each other for little more than two years now, Steve had started to get to know the enigma he had for a partner. Tessa Vance may be brilliant and obsessed, but when dealing with traumatic experiences she sought to familiar surroundings, whatever they may be. Occasionally he found her at home, other times she had been elsewhere. She hid, it was as easy as that. It was understandable, though. She had never been one for drinking and thus didn’t exactly share his and the others’ way of unwinding. Still, Steve had no idea what she usually did, but today seemed like one of those days he ought to find out.
***
Tessa had managed to pick herself off the shower floor once the water ran cold and get into some warm clothes. As if having regained some control, she towel-dried her curly hair and combed it back behind her ears, before finding soft flannel pants and t-shirt from her wardrobe to wear. She now lay on top of the covers of the bed; the windows were open but not offering very cool air. The sound of cars and distant voices reached her ears as she stared unseeingly on the wall, faintly registering the sounds before they vanished from her mind the next second.
She hugged her legs in the foetal-like position she had implemented, her throat sore and her eyes dry but burning still. She was so tired, but sleep eluded her as always. Nights had always been her worst moments and today’s events had certainly done nothing to improve the situation. It had in fact made it worse. At least that was her current hypothesis. All the clues were there right in front of her, taunting her, hounding her, never going to disappear. No matter how hard she tried, no sleep would come to her tonight.
Even a long, hot shower couldn’t rid her of the indiscernible scent.
The sudden knock on her door startled her, making her shoot up in bed and look around in frenzy, her heart pulsing wildly in her throat. The bark of a dog from somewhere impacted on her senses and Tessa jumped again, grasping the bed covers tightly in her hands, gasping as the familiar sense of dread penetrated her perception.
The dogs were there, staring at her. She had ignored the rule of not staring back into their eyes, thus instigating them to further action. It had been her fault. She hadn’t even checked if someone was around before she approached the fenced-in dog house! And now that face was staring at her again—
The knocking persisted, pulling her out of her thoughts, grounding her, reminding her she was not at the kennel. Not at the mercy of a malicious grin and growling dogs...
Tessa slid out of bed, her bare feet stumbling quickly towards the door as the raps became impatient. She twisted the deadlock and wrenched the door open, startled once again when she saw who was on the other side.
“Steve!”
Indeed, there he stood, her partner, looking very concerned above his loosened tie and open jacket.
“Tessa, are you okay?” he asked, eyebrows knitting together. Not knowing quite what to say she only pushed the door open. He strode through, pausing as he looked around the dark apartment only lit by the small lamp next to the couch. His eyes stopped by the still blinking answering machine.
“I called you several times,” he said, turning to look at her. Tessa stared dumbfounded at the blinking red light, still at a loss for words. “Hey.” He was suddenly next to her, hands on her shoulders. Those wonderful gentle eyes goaded her to look at him again.
Tessa felt her lower lip start to tremble and squeezed her eyes shut, knowing that any minute the tears would return if he continued staring at her like that. It didn’t help; it only brought them on in full force. The next thing she knew she was crumbling and then something warm was wrapped around her and a chin was nuzzling her hair as distinctive male smell permeated her senses.
***
Steve held the sleeping woman in his arms, reeling in everything that had happened. The broken woman meeting him at the door had been a shock, but somehow he got over it and set his mind on a different track. It had been instinct that drove him towards her and when she had started to cry he couldn’t help hugging her.
From the floor to the couch had been an easy enough affair, despite him carrying nearly all of her weight. She was a very small woman, he realised, and without her heels she barely reached his shoulders. And at the moment he could not see that brave and tough face she put on along with her trouser suits, only a woman who was vulnerable and insecure. Somehow the thought troubled him, but he didn’t know how or why.
She had cried herself to sleep. He didn’t know how long he had sat there, but she must have been exhausted nonetheless. By the looks of it, she had done nothing else either since she got home. No kitchen smell, no clutter, and he was sure he had caught glimpses of discarded clothes along the path into her bedroom. Only the damp hair against his shirt told tales of what she had done.
The thoughts flittering through his mind as he listened to her deep breaths were anything but organised. It was disconcerting, to say the least. He felt like he could barely control what was going on.
Although Tessa had not spoken a word, he knew her distress had to be due to the incident at the kennel today. Frankly, he had to be honest and say he was uncomfortable with the event as well. Seeing her trapped inside that cage, hearing her frenzied voice calling his name... Steve had to admit his hands had been shaking as they pried the gate open, his heart had been pounding and every second he had wondered if the dogs were going to abandon the item they were tearing apart and go for her instead. Then the door was open and she had run off as far as she could from the doghouse, giving him no other choice but to follow.
In hindsight, he wasn’t truly surprised. He had gotten used to running after her whenever she got it into her head to take off. He had, however, managed to sit her down while he went after the killer. In her state he hadn’t trusted her behind the wheels. He had, though, left her on her own tonight while he went to the bar to unwind.
Steve looked down at her calm features, gazing at the red and sore cheeks that even in her sleep made her look fragile and wounded. He regretted his trip to the bar right now, even if it was useless to think about such things now. What’s done was done and he couldn’t change that.
With a smirk Steve thought that no matter what he should or shouldn’t have done, sitting on his partner’s couch and holding her like he would a child wasn’t exactly what he had imagined anyway. Sure there had been hugs, but nothing quite like this.
Without thinking, he brushed a stray hair away from her face and was caught off guard when she sought further into his palm. Quickly, he withdrew his hand lest he wake her. He needn’t have worried; Tessa slept on without another twitch.
Silently, head swimming with thoughts he thought he had long since suppressed, Steve leaned further into the couch, preparing himself for a long haul.
The next day brought Tessa a major headache along with a kink in her neck. She found herself on the couch, a blanket draped over legs; it seemed to have fallen off her during the night. Confused, it took her befuddled mind a while to think back on what had happened and why she was lying on the couch. Soon her eyes widened as the vague memories filtered back as if in slow motion.
Steve had come last night and she had broken down. Then there had been warmth around her – Steve must have gestured her to the couch and held her – and then only blissful sleep only occasionally disrupted by bad dreams. But whenever she woke, she had taken only a moment to be calmed by another presence before falling asleep again. She had thought she was dreaming when Steve mumbled soft words of comfort to her or when she could sense the wondrous smell that was only his. It had been too surreal to be true. And yet Tessa was very sure it had been all but a dream.
A blush crept up her neck and seeped into her cheeks as Tessa clutched the blanket in her hands and inhaled. It was very faint, but she thought she could smell his scent still. It was musk and that particular scent that was solely his. Not even Brett had smelled so good.
Her eyes flew open as she shut her mind firmly to the thoughts that started to roam freely. Seeking a distraction, she looked around and found the apartment empty, eerily lit up with the rays of an early sun beyond the curtains. One of the rays caught off on something white by the dining table, and Tessa realised it was a piece of paper. As far as she knew, it had not been there yesterday.
Standing up on her feet, rolling her sore shoulders – whatever position she had lain in last night had not been good for her joints – and bending her head sideways to try working out the kink in her neck, Tessa went to the table. The joints felt marginally better, but she forgot all about the dulled pain once the note was in her hands.
It was from Steve.
Good morning!
You must have the worst kink today... Let me know and I’ll rub it for you.
Don’t bother coming in for work today. I’ll chase you home the minute I see you! I’ll take care of the remaining paperwork. You just rest up. You seem like you need it.
And if you need to talk to someone, I’m here. There’s no reason to hide away. You’ve got nothing to be ashamed off, and you certainly won’t feel better either. Like they say, you can run but you can’t hide.
Take care, Tess.
Steve
P.S. I’ll warn everyone to watch out for you, so don’t bother trying to sneak around me to get back to work!
A wide grin accompanied a chuckle, and Tessa felt momentarily better. Actually, when she thought about it and apart from the sore neck and shoulders, she felt loads better.
She read the note one more time, grinned, and laid it down on the table top. She wrapped her arms around herself as she stared back on the couch, imagining how the scene had looked last night.
Last night, no words had been exchanged, but none had been needed. Theirs was a relationship with little words. By his presence he had comforted her and Tessa felt immensely better. As long as she knew he was there for her, she could manage.
She picked up the blanket from the couch and inhaled the faint scent again.
END
fredag 6. juni 2008
Poem: The Night Wanes On
Do I dare and dare I do
what others take for granted?
To see and to be seen too:
will my whole life be wanted?
I feel there are some proper forms,
which I should use without much toil.
A secret formula, without the worms,
but ages old and close to soil.
Seize the day or seize it not
that is the golden question.
Yet the wisest still cannot
answer Hamlet's question.
A divided house cannot stand
and so the call must be
to either choose the safest ground
or risk the path you don't see.
ORIGINAL POEM (c) neela/dreigiau
2008
what others take for granted?
To see and to be seen too:
will my whole life be wanted?
I feel there are some proper forms,
which I should use without much toil.
A secret formula, without the worms,
but ages old and close to soil.
Seize the day or seize it not
that is the golden question.
Yet the wisest still cannot
answer Hamlet's question.
A divided house cannot stand
and so the call must be
to either choose the safest ground
or risk the path you don't see.
ORIGINAL POEM (c) neela/dreigiau
2008
tirsdag 3. juni 2008
Fic: A Sparrow's Fall
Title: A Sparrow's Fall
Fandom: Murder Call
Characters: Tessa/Steve, OC
Prompt: 030. Death
Word Count: 856 (Mac Word)
Rating: PG
Summary: The loss is sometimes too great for words.
Author's Notes: Title adapted from a Norwegian funeral song: "Ikke en spurv faller til jorden uten at Gud det vet" (Not a sparrow falls to the ground without God knowing).
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters. They belong to Jennifer Rowe, Hal McElroy and Southern Star. I make no profit out of this.
**
There was no stopping the pain shooting through her chest as the casket was lowered into the ground. A small pristinely white thing carrying a piece of her heart to eternal resting: it was unfair. It should have been her. But the powers that be had not listened to her. It had all been for naught. A second was all it took – a sliver of their millions of seconds that would never be regained. Gone and lost forever.
He returned from lowering the casket, his hand clenched as if still gripping the rope. She leaned into his side, seeking comfort that was slow coming. No more tears ran down her cheeks; she had run empty. His arms tucked around her shoulders and she could hear his heart beat quickly beneath his heavy jacket, the slight trembles alerting her to the cries he held back.
Time passed so slowly. Even with the cold weather, the sun shone. She could not help but think it was treacherous, at the same time overcome by the rays falling on the colourful flowers and making the scene so beautiful. Such a stark opposite to the last time she had been forced to see someone she loved buried in the cold winter ground.
A sob escaped her lips, but she had no more tears to offer, and her throat was sore. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. They had been so happy, so overjoyed by the turn of events. The possibility of losing it before it began had not even crossed their minds.
His arm tightened around her and his cheek leaned on the top of her head. She drew her arms around him, hugging him tightly, finally drawing her eyes away from the flowers to drown in the dark fabric of his jacket. It hurt so much. The wound had been ripped open today instead of mending. She didn’t know how she would bear it.
He dropped a kiss on her hair and she remembered her father, who used to do the same thing when she was upset, and she managed to squeeze out a few more wet trails into the heavy material. Her throat hurt, her chest hurt, and her belly felt empty. She had not been ready for this. It had taken her completely off guard. She gripped the material of his jacket in her hands, uttering a guttural sound in her half-sob.
Not a care for watching eyes did she feel. All she wanted was to bury herself in their bed in their dark bedroom, only him and her, and lie there forever. She was sick of condolences, of concerned conversations and the ever-pitying looks. She was tired of being sick of it. It was a circle that never ended.
A sudden hiccup from the chest against her face alerted her to his distress, and she hugged him closer, nearly choking him as silent sobs took hold of him. A moment of weakness, it made her aware there was something more to him than a secure rock in the stream. He was hurting too.
For long moments, she simply gripped him tight, long past listening to their surroundings, finding her own sobs escaping silently with his until they both calmed down. Another kiss on her hair and she finally drew back, gazing up into his eyes and seeing the ghostly trails of tears down his cheeks. She wiped it off as he did with her, and she nearly came undone again with the pain mirrored in his eyes. It was as if he had aged ten years in the past two weeks. He was wearied, thin, drawn. But there was something else there as well: a small glimmer that nearly drowned in the darkness as he cast a look down beside her.
She followed his gaze to the small blue eyes peering up at them, the quivering lip, and the small hands fisted in her skirt and his pants. Neither of them had noticed and didn’t know how long the boy had stood there.
“Mama?”
Her heart soared even as a stab of pain jolted through her. She looked up to the side and met their friends’ mournful faces standing several metres away, sympathy written all over them, and the elder woman who had been unofficial aunt looked apologetic. Tessa simply gave her a look and then leaned down to pick Jonas up in her tired arms.
“Don’t be sad,” Jonas told her and ran his chubby hand clumsily over her cheeks, mimicking his father’s previous gesture. He then twisted in her arms and reached up to his father to do the same.
A ghost of a smile crossed Steve’s features and he caught the boy’s hand to kiss it softly as Tessa shifted the boy in her arms. “We’ll try,” he promised, meeting her eyes after ruffling the boy’s hair. She cleared her throat, but was too emotional to speak. Her eyes burned.
And as she silently passed her son to Steve, who reached the other arm around her and drew her close, she found she didn’t need to speak at all.
END
Fandom: Murder Call
Characters: Tessa/Steve, OC
Prompt: 030. Death
Word Count: 856 (Mac Word)
Rating: PG
Summary: The loss is sometimes too great for words.
Author's Notes: Title adapted from a Norwegian funeral song: "Ikke en spurv faller til jorden uten at Gud det vet" (Not a sparrow falls to the ground without God knowing).
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters. They belong to Jennifer Rowe, Hal McElroy and Southern Star. I make no profit out of this.
**
There was no stopping the pain shooting through her chest as the casket was lowered into the ground. A small pristinely white thing carrying a piece of her heart to eternal resting: it was unfair. It should have been her. But the powers that be had not listened to her. It had all been for naught. A second was all it took – a sliver of their millions of seconds that would never be regained. Gone and lost forever.
He returned from lowering the casket, his hand clenched as if still gripping the rope. She leaned into his side, seeking comfort that was slow coming. No more tears ran down her cheeks; she had run empty. His arms tucked around her shoulders and she could hear his heart beat quickly beneath his heavy jacket, the slight trembles alerting her to the cries he held back.
Time passed so slowly. Even with the cold weather, the sun shone. She could not help but think it was treacherous, at the same time overcome by the rays falling on the colourful flowers and making the scene so beautiful. Such a stark opposite to the last time she had been forced to see someone she loved buried in the cold winter ground.
A sob escaped her lips, but she had no more tears to offer, and her throat was sore. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. They had been so happy, so overjoyed by the turn of events. The possibility of losing it before it began had not even crossed their minds.
His arm tightened around her and his cheek leaned on the top of her head. She drew her arms around him, hugging him tightly, finally drawing her eyes away from the flowers to drown in the dark fabric of his jacket. It hurt so much. The wound had been ripped open today instead of mending. She didn’t know how she would bear it.
He dropped a kiss on her hair and she remembered her father, who used to do the same thing when she was upset, and she managed to squeeze out a few more wet trails into the heavy material. Her throat hurt, her chest hurt, and her belly felt empty. She had not been ready for this. It had taken her completely off guard. She gripped the material of his jacket in her hands, uttering a guttural sound in her half-sob.
Not a care for watching eyes did she feel. All she wanted was to bury herself in their bed in their dark bedroom, only him and her, and lie there forever. She was sick of condolences, of concerned conversations and the ever-pitying looks. She was tired of being sick of it. It was a circle that never ended.
A sudden hiccup from the chest against her face alerted her to his distress, and she hugged him closer, nearly choking him as silent sobs took hold of him. A moment of weakness, it made her aware there was something more to him than a secure rock in the stream. He was hurting too.
For long moments, she simply gripped him tight, long past listening to their surroundings, finding her own sobs escaping silently with his until they both calmed down. Another kiss on her hair and she finally drew back, gazing up into his eyes and seeing the ghostly trails of tears down his cheeks. She wiped it off as he did with her, and she nearly came undone again with the pain mirrored in his eyes. It was as if he had aged ten years in the past two weeks. He was wearied, thin, drawn. But there was something else there as well: a small glimmer that nearly drowned in the darkness as he cast a look down beside her.
She followed his gaze to the small blue eyes peering up at them, the quivering lip, and the small hands fisted in her skirt and his pants. Neither of them had noticed and didn’t know how long the boy had stood there.
“Mama?”
Her heart soared even as a stab of pain jolted through her. She looked up to the side and met their friends’ mournful faces standing several metres away, sympathy written all over them, and the elder woman who had been unofficial aunt looked apologetic. Tessa simply gave her a look and then leaned down to pick Jonas up in her tired arms.
“Don’t be sad,” Jonas told her and ran his chubby hand clumsily over her cheeks, mimicking his father’s previous gesture. He then twisted in her arms and reached up to his father to do the same.
A ghost of a smile crossed Steve’s features and he caught the boy’s hand to kiss it softly as Tessa shifted the boy in her arms. “We’ll try,” he promised, meeting her eyes after ruffling the boy’s hair. She cleared her throat, but was too emotional to speak. Her eyes burned.
And as she silently passed her son to Steve, who reached the other arm around her and drew her close, she found she didn’t need to speak at all.
END
Pic: Hands
click here for bigger view
I made this last summer. The fingers weren't my best piece of art, but they'll do. My reference pic can be found here.
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