NOTE: with the epidemic going on all around the world, I hope everyone stays safe. Prayers to everyone going through this difficult time.
CHAPTER: 10 … I think it's 10
Tuesday
"You’re not going?" Tara almost exclaimed.
"I’ll meet you afterwards. You know how it is with Joey. He’s always getting into trouble at school," Julian explained as he put on his blazer. He had just received a call from his kid brother’s principal after he got into another fight. His sixth one since the new school year started in half as many months.
"But I’m gonna be alone with Rosenberg," she whined, her attitude not unlike that of a toddler throwing a fit; just shy of a foot stop and crossed arms. Tara wasn’t sure if she was ready to handle facing Willow alone. Over the past several days, the detective found herself quite often having sexual daydreams about the redheaded pathologist, the latest one occurring just a couple of hours ago which she still hadn't quite worked off yet.
"I know you hate it, but you said you wanna try to patch things up with her. This could be a good opportunity to do just that," Julian replied as he grabbed his personal belongings off his desk. "Just be nice … Not creepy." He scampered off quickly, narrowly dodging a pencil Tara threw after him.
Tara groaned in frustration, for more reasons than one. After spending more than twenty minutes psyching herself up, she pushed herself off her seat and strode doggedly toward the office door with her car keys in hand.
I can do this.
888
I can’t do this. Tara stood outside the morgue of UCLA Medical Center, staring blankly at its double-door. She had been standing there for quite a while now and was already earning odd looks from passersby. Too absorbed in her own mind to pay any attention to her surroundings, Tara stood motionless as she listened to the sound of her heart pounding like drums in her ears.
She ran her left hand through her hair, debating internally on whether she should wait for Julian even though he might not be back for another couple of hours. The thought of delaying a murder investigation, on the other hand, wasn’t appealing. Tara clutched onto that thought in her mind like a lifeline as she pushed open the double-doors and stepped into the morgue. She only managed one single step into the frigid room before she chickened out at the very last second. Her sudden halt in movement resulted in the heavy double-doors swinging right back at her, knocking her backward into the hall.
Willow raised her head from her microscope when the doors swung open, the whooshing sound catching her attention in the silent room. She caught a glimpse of a familiar figure before it disappeared behind the door. Her facial expression was one mixed with amusement and bafflement as she heard muffled cussing from the other side of the doors. She continued staring at the entrance as she waited for the woman to reappear.
Tara cursed under her breath at the throbbing pain in her right shoulder. Reaching up to grab her injured appendage, she continued to murmur vulgarity as she chided herself for behaving like an idiot. She took a moment to compose herself before entering the morgue again. Tara was ready this time as the swift moving door swung back at her, her good arm shooting out to stop the movement. When she saw Willow staring at her, she looked like a deer caught in headlights before ducking her head in embarrassment.
"Where’s Detective Wallace?" Willow asked curiously, her auburn eyebrows turning upward.
The question barely registered in Tara’s mind. She was thinking about how adorable Willow looked in her glasses and yellow scrubs, something that she had failed to appreciate a hundred times before she had crudely insulted the pathologist; resulting in the disappearance of her eyewear. Her heart was pumping warm blood rapidly throughout her body, which only served to aggravate the situation. She wriggled slightly in her clothes, her dark grey cotton t-shirt unpleasantly sticking to her skin.
"He, ah …" she had to clear her throat to remove the lump of air that was caught before she could continue. "He has some personal business to deal with," she said as she began to walk further into the morgue.
"So, it’s just the two of us." The notion seemed more real to Willow now that she had said it out loud. The last time they had been left alone in the morgue resulted in a heated battle of insults followed by the redhead basically professing her desire for the brunette to kiss her. She looked away from the detective and back to the open body she had been examining, suddenly overwhelmed by nervousness. She took in a deep breath to settle her nerves as she tried to focus her attention back on her job. Grabbing the deceased man’s wrist, Willow lifted the bluing appendage as she carefully did a nail scrapping, placing the dirt and skin follicles on a slide.
Tara stood on the opposite side of the metal table, in front of Willow, the body currently under autopsy the only thing separating them. She grimaced as she finally took in the sight of the bloody body lying prone on the metal slab. The body was cut open, revealing the mess of internal organs within and the top of the victim’s head was removed to expose his brain. She was use to death; saw deceased bodies almost daily, but the sight of a human being sliced open on display seemed to never get easier.
"Did you find anything?" she asked softly.
The softness of her voice gave Willow shivers down her spine, in an oddly pleasurable way. She couldn’t help but notice that Tara was making an effort to be nice even though it did seem a little peculiar. In a way though, she was relieved. For the past week she had had a sinking feeling in her stomach. That maybe she had overstepped a personal boundary; that she had misread the situation and unsettled the brunette with what she said. Now though, she wasn't sure, she felt like the brunette was throwing out a bunch of mixed signals.
"Erm, I ran a tox-screen," Willow went over to her desk to get the results, quickly passing the file to Tara. "It showed that the victim had a high level of alcohol, MDMA, cocaine and Restoril in his system. There was also internal hemorrhaging in his brain, which is the primary cause of death. The victim probably subcomed to a seizure due to the combination of drugs and alcohol and hit his head on the nightstand as he fell.
"So this was just an unfortunate accident?" Tara asked with slight disbelief.
"Could be. It’s not uncommon for someone to pass away after doing a speedball." Willow replied. "However, based on the amount of Restoril in his system, it’s slightly suspicious. I would say someone tried to poison him. It’s worth looking into," Willow answered, offering her professional opinion. She studied Tara as she read the results of the tox-screen. She smiled a little when Tara furrowed her eyebrows at something profound on the paper. Without the lackadaisical attitude, she was certainly not bad company to be around. They had gotten off on the wrong foot, something she felt slightly responsible for, and things had unwittingly escalated from then on.
"Anything else?" Tara asked as she leafed through the report, the vast majority of which was lost on her.
"Glitter," Willow said simply.
Flipping the report back to the first page, Tara looked up quizzically at the doctor. "Glitter?"
"Yeah, it’s um …" Smiling bashfully, Willow decided it was better to show the detective what she meant rather than tell her verbally.
Reaching for a small towel covering the victim’s genitalia, Willow removed the sheet, revealing gold glitter in the man’s pubic hair.
"Oh," Tara said lost for words as she looked at the sight before her.
Bringing the sheet back up, Willow repositioned the towel back into place to provide a semblance of modesty to the body. "I also did a genital swabbing to check for saliva and other bodily fluids and am conducting a nail scrapping now. The results, if any, should be back within 48 hours. I’ll let you know."
Tara nodded thoughtfully. "Thanks," she said, giving a polite smile afterwards. When the smile was returned in kind, she dropped her head to hide her reddening cheeks behind a curtain of hair. The physical reactions that Willow managed to bring forth in her with simple gestures were unbelievable. It seemed like a lifetime ago when she was fighting with the very same person. She suddenly realized she had by no means apologized to Willow.
"I’m sorry." They said simultaneously, staring at one another for a few seconds before laughing in embarrassment.
Tara kept her eyes locked on Willow, admiring the way her delicate face brightened up and her emerald eyes twinkled when she laughed. She was absolutely beautiful in every single way.
"I’m sorry for snapping at you," Tara spoke once the laughter died down.
"Which time?" Willow asked teasingly.
"The first time," Tara said with a chuckle. "It only got worse from there."
"Does that mean you apologize for anything that happened after?" Willow questioned slyly, arching an eyebrow in suggestion.
"Don’t push it." Tara narrowed her eyes playfully at Willow, who laughed in response.
"Okay, I might have also been less than amiable with you since we’ve known each other. And for that, I’m sorry," Willow replied while trying to keep a straight face.
"Might?" Tara repeated in a tone of mock disbelief.
"Actually … I felt really bad for what I said the last time you were here," Willow continued in a soft voice. Her cheery expression was replaced by one of remorse. She lowered her head and started playing with a frayed string on the chest pocket of her scrubs. "About everything I said."
Everything? She had been in a tailspin ever since Willow broached the subject of kissing. It didn't take long afterward for her to realize she was attracted to the medical examiner, but when Willow never broached the subject upon their next meeting at the hospital, she felt it best to drop the matter entirely. She hadn't been sure if Willow felt the same way or if she had just got caught up in the heat of the moment. It was clear to her now that it was the latter.
Even though she was disappointed, Tara’s heart almost broke at seeing the vulnerability shown by the redhead. "Hey," she called out quietly, waiting for Willow to look up before carrying on. "It’s alright. I’m not angry. Well, maybe a little," she admitted after Willow gave her a skeptical look. "But not anymore."
"Thanks," Willow replied demurely as she smiled gratefully. She was seeing Tara in a whole new light. Picturing the gentleness behind her tough façade once seemed impossible, but now it appeared to be the most natural thing in the world. Maybe something good came out of the fight after all. It seemed like they were finally airing out all of their grievances.
"There is one thing though that I’ve been wanting to ask … how did you know?" Tara asked hesitantly, fearing the answer.
"Know what?"
"That I ... you said it wasn't the first time a women's thrown me out," Tara said sheepishly with a one shoulder shrug.
Willow scratched her temple, contemplating the way to reveal the incident without embarrassing Tara. "I think it was just after the case of Vera Foster. I saw … I had just stepped out of my apartment and I sort of saw you get thrown out into the hallway by my neighbor. So I just assumed…"
"Oh god." Tara covered her eyes with her good hand, too humiliated to look at Willow. The worst part was that she didn’t even remember.
"That was actually quite a while ago," Willow replied, feeling a pang of sympathy for the embarrassed detective. "Let’s just put everything behind us and start over, shall we?" she asked.
Tara stared at her inquisitively, wondering what the redhead had in mind.
Willow smiled sweetly as she removed the gloves from her hands; rubbing her right palm on the thigh of her scrub before sticking her hand out toward the brunette. "Nice to meet you. I’m Dr. Willow Rosenberg."