3.1.1 - Up to My Neck

[whedonist]

Up to My Neck

My hand fumbles towards my bedside table as I groan. Who the hell is calling this early? A few seconds of groping and my hand finally manages to find the annoying, ringing, piece of crap that I should toss through the open window. I hit ‘talk’ instead and grunt, “Eh?”

A light, lilting laugh comes through on the other end and I rub my eyes. “Good morning, gorgeous,” Jill purrs into her phone.

I groan and mumble, “What’d I do?”

She laughs again and says, “My dear, over-worked wife asked me to call and make sure that you were alive.”

Realizing this is actually going to be a conversation, I sit up and rub my face, swiping some of the hair away from it. I squint over at the bedside clock and with a little mental math, figure that I’ve got enough time to talk and have breakfast before getting ready for the horrendous day ahead of me.

I yawn and stretch as my friend says, “I figured you’d be awake by now. Sorry, Nor.”

“It’s alright, I should get up anyhow.” I stand and scratch my back, shuffling out towards the kitchen to start the coffee and pick my cereal for the morning.

“Ann got called to Wichita, Kansas like right as we were leaving the airport last night. So this morning when I talked to her, she asked me to call and make sure you got in okay.”

I listen to her talk and shuffle into the kitchen, making a beeline for my coffee pot. There’s a trick to my morning coffee. The coffee and filters are all located in the cabinet right above the coffee maker, I’ve gotten so good, I can make my coffee with my eyes closed. This morning I practically do.

Pulling out a chair, I plop myself down and continue to listen to Jill prattle on, “How was the flight? What time did you get in?”

“Flight was okay, remind me next time I come visit you two that you’re springing for first class.” I hear her in the kitchen and figure that she’s going for her own breakfast. “Lemme guess, Life?”

She huffs, “Yes, and it’s a good cereal.”

“I still think Coco Puffs are better. I got in at like eleven last night,” I finish answering her questions.

Not missing a beat, she says, “Chocolate isn’t meant to be eaten for breakfast and are you ready for today?”

Internally I groan, as if I needed the reminder. After Tombridge, I lucked out and got partnered with Daniel Harney and moved to Special Crimes. Really, it was the best damn thing to happen. Dan and I have been together for the last two years. Except today he becomes my acting captain, while I get saddled with a new partner. Thinking out loud, I gripe, “I hate getting new partners.”

“Ya know,” Jill says around a mouthful of food, “Ann says the same thing.” My coffee finishes and I go grab a cup. Sitting back down, I take a sip and sigh as she asks, “You know anything about the new partner?”

“Nope.” I take another drink and my eyes crack open a little bit more. “The only thing I got before I left to come see you two was that it was some hotshot detective from the Narcotics/Vice division.”

“And we all know that it’s probably going to be some no-neck Neanderthal,” she chuckles into the phone and I grunt in agreement.

Sighing, I say, “Well, I can hope not, but…anyway, Jill thanks for checking in, when you talk to Ann tell her I said hey.”

“I will, sweetie. Go get ready for your day.”

“Well some of us need to make an honest living,” I rib her.

“I do make an honest living!” she protests. “I’ll have you know that what I do is real work.”

“Uh, huh. You stand in front of a camera and look pretty, Jill.”

She laughs and says, “And I do a fan-fucking-tastic job of it.”

“Yeah, yeah. Alright. I’m headed off. Talk to you later?” I ask.

“If Ann doesn’t call you soon, I will. I wanna know all the juicy details from today.”

We finish our goodbyes as I polish off my coffee. I make my way out of my kitchen and back to the bathroom to get ready for today.

I wonder if praying would help…?

---

I look out of the windshield again to the slate sky of the morning. It’s cold, most likely going to rain and right now, a bit too foggy. I know the sun’s up there somewhere, now if only it’d come out and play to burn this shit off.

Groaning, I reach for my jacket, open the door and step out of my car. I take a second and enjoy the feel of the lining of my coat encasing me in some type of warmth then make sure June Lee’s all locked up. Satisfied, I spin on my heel and march towards the squad room to face my sentence.

Should have known taking that vacation before getting a new partner was a bad idea. If I had stayed on desk duty, I probably could have gotten more information.

No.

No, to desk duty, I’d rather be…well, it’s a tossup, hospital or desk jockey? I weigh the alternatives as I sign in and take the steps up the three flights to my squad room. By the time I reach the top of the steps, I still haven’t come to a decision and drop it.

Both options suck ass.

The room’s quiet this early which is again a tossup. Either the streets of my fair city are flooded with crime and everyone’s out or it’s been slow, which we can hope for, and no one’s in yet.

I’ll let my optimistic side come out to play and say that it’s been slow.

My gaze travels from my desk to the one across from it. It sits empty except for the computer, keyboard, mouse and…I laugh…someone took the ink blotter, pencil holder and trays from the desk. I sit down at my desk and survey the mass hysteria that developed since my departure two weeks ago.

Reports are stacked in the inbox. They threaten to spill off to the side. Message slips are stacked and tucked under my keyboard. I slip out of my jacket and twist round to put it on the back of my chair. I power up my machine and start going through my messages.

Four from the D.A.’s office, one from Bobby, one from Patrick, one from Terry, two from my mother and the rest are follow-ups on what is more than likely, prank calls. Leaning down, I toss the unimportant ones in the garbage, pretty much everything that’s not from the D.A.’s office and start to lean back up, but stop as I notice my bottom drawer is cracked open.

Curious, I pull the drawer open and a small pack of Pampers stares back up at me, a post-it note attached to the face of the baby on the packaging reads:

Nora,

The squad pitched in and thought maybe you could use some help with the new partner.

Good Luck!

I huff…no one actually signed the note. I rumble and shut the drawer, deciding to leave those where they are. Then I laugh. That was actually pretty funny. My computer is finally to the point where I can log in. Typing in the required information, I let it process and pluck the first file from the stack on my inbox. I start to comb through the piles, dividing them up.

As I work through my pile, people begin to trickle in and offer hellos. Distractedly, I offer my own greetings. A shadow falls over my desk and I blink, looking up from the report. C.S.U’s newest detective looks down at me and smiles. “Hey, Georgia,” I greet the only other female detective in the squad.

“Welcome back.” She smiles and hooks a thumb over in the direction of Dan’s office. “Word on the bebe?” She winks at me and my eyes narrow. I should have known.

“Nope. Although, someone was kind enough to leave me a pack of diapers.” I scowl at her and she starts to study the cracked linoleum.

Yeah, that’s what I thought.

“So,” she says, trying to change the topic, “How was vacation?”

I let it go, while I secretly plan my payback and shrug. “It was good.”

“Where’d you go?” she asks taking a sip of her coffee.

“Visit an old Academy buddy turned Fed,” I answer, not offering anymore.

Her eyebrow rises and she shakes her head smiling. “Alright. Well, I’ll let you get back to sifting through those reports.” Grinning, she turns away and heads back to her desk.

I laugh a little and go back to reading and signing off on paperwork. How come no one ever told me this would be part of my job?

“Delaney!”

My head snaps up and I see Dan leaning against the doorframe to his new office. His shirtsleeves are rolled up and his tie is crooked. How long as he been here?

“Yeah?” I holler back not moving from my desk.

He stands there expectantly. Good luck, pal. I don’t jump when people bark. He knows this. It takes him a moment, but he relents and saunters over. “Usually Nora, when a superior yells your name, you’re supposed to go see them,” he teases. It’s also his way of testing the waters given the new power dynamic.

I told him when he first put in for the job that it wouldn’t bother me. I’ll be honest and say that the man’s earned the job. He wasn’t a kiss ass, he kicked ass to get the new digs. I won’t fault him for that, but if he thinks pulling the macho, ‘I’m your captain now’ bullshit is going to work, I may just have to hand him his ass.

I smirk back up at him as he leans against the side of my desk. Leaning back in my chair, I mirror his posture with my arms folded across my chest.

“Would you,” he breaks first, “be so kind as to accompany me to my office? I’ve been speaking with your new partner and I’d like to introduce you.”

He’s been here the whole time? With my new partner?

Wow. I guess the bump in pay really did do a number on him. I grin and stand. “I don’t see why not.”

His face finally splits into a grin and we hug. He squeezes tight and whispers into my ear, “It’s good to have you back, Nor. This place sucks without you.”

“Good to be home, Dan.” I let him go and our eyes skirt around the room hoping that the brief display of affection was unnoticed. Thankfully, the only one that seemed to notice was Chuck and he could give a rat’s ass. “Come on,” I say walking towards his office, “let’s go.”

He scurries behind me. I give him the courtesy of going in before me and truthfully, I’m a little anxious.

Bracing myself, I step into the room and watch the person rise from one of the two chairs in front of Dan’s desk.

It’s then that everything kinda slows down. I take in every detail, the half unpacked boxes around the small office, Dan grinning idiotically to my right, the small bit of moisture in my palms, the beat of my heart.

Then I look into my new partners eyes and everything else just sort of fades away. I look into the most gorgeous set of brown eyes I’ve yet to lay eyes on and I swallow. Hard.

It’s a she.

She’s a she and she’s stunning.

Oh, fuck.

Somehow, I manage to not drool all over myself and my new partner as Dan says, “Detective Nora Delaney, I’d like to introduce you to our newest member, Detective Nikki Beaumont formally of Narcotics.”

I stick my hand out instinctively and she takes the offered greeting, lightly shaking my hand and giving me a thousand watt smile.

I know my brain’s supposed work, I know there are things I need to say and do, but my body won’t cooperate with my brain and I’m stuck.

Until Dan’s loud, exaggerated cough snaps me from the stupor.

“Hi,” I manage thickly. “Uh, Nora. Nice to meet you.”

“Nikki, Nora,” she says releasing my hand and I’m not sure if I imagined the lingering touch or not because the blood rushing through my ears muffles sound and makes everything feel a little distant.

“Alright ladies,” Dan puts a light hand on our shoulders and begins steering us from his office, “I’ll leave you two the day to get acquainted. Nora, show Nikki some of the ropes in this squad.” He ushers us out on to the squad room floor and to our desks. “Nikki, you let me know if this one doesn’t treat you right.” He casually flirts with her and I can take a good guess that’s what he’s been doing in here most of the morning.

“I’m sure Detective Delaney will treat me just fine,” she husks playfully.

With that, Dan winks and heads back to his office.

“So, Nora, that,” she says pointing to my desk covered in manila file folders, “is your desk?”

“Yep,” I manage, “and I’m your…uh, this is yours,” I stumble a little managing to salvage my slip up a little.

I just need to reel it in. She’s my partner. She’s my new partner and we all know that this must be kept professional. Besides which I don’t even know if she’s gay, but that is so not the right thing to think. It’s not even in the ball park of right.

“Uh-huh,” she says letting it slip.

I can do this. I walk around to my desk and start organizing the folders. “Give me a minute and I’ll show you around.”

I don’t look up as she answers, “Take your time darlin’, we have all day.” The tone of voice she uses sends shivers down my spine and I curse myself for the reaction.

And since when did they start making detectives that looked like that?

It’s going to be a very, very, very long day.

---

My head's cradled in my hand as I prop my head against the car door and wait for my new partner to make her way down to me and June Lee. It’s day four of let’s ‘Let’s Torture Nora’ and so far I feel like I’m holding up pretty good.

Our first day was a bust; I took her around and made the introductions. Then we both settled in getting our desks in order. Day two found us neck deep in river mud ‘cause a body washed up on the river bank, day three was a bit more of the same, except this time it wasn’t raining cats and dogs and I managed to look like a complete ass.

Falling off the dock is not a way to impress the new partner. Dan made sure that I was aware of that little fact by the time we cut out of the squad room last night.

I gotcha Dan, damn smartass.

So here we are on day four and I’m feeling pretty good about it. She’s not bad to work with so far. She’s smart and quick on her feet. She also uses her looks to her advantage.

I look back out the passenger side window and see her making her way down the apartment complex steps. I allow myself a few seconds of unabashed admiring. Long legs, long brown hair, big brown eyes all encased in black cotton pants, a maroon button down shirt and a thigh length leather jacket.

I’m still trying to figure out how she’s walking in those boots; the heel must be four inches long. As she gets closer, I see the actual heel being no bigger around than my pinky.

I shake my head. Some girls can just wear that sort of thing and not trip, fall and break their neck.

Sadly enough, I’m not one of them.

She smiles as she sees me and I give a little wave. I really need the weekend to be here. I could use a day off to regroup.

Leaning over, I pop the lock on the passenger side door and partially open it for her as she approaches.

I watch her slip inside as she greets me, “Good morning.”

“Mornin’,” I parrot back. Looking around, I wonder where she actually parks her car. There’s no garage to park in and the streets are bare right in front of her building. “Where’s your car?”

She looks at me funny and I feel the need to explain, “I never see you with car keys and there are no cars parked in the area that I feel would belong to a woman like you.”

A waxed eyebrow rises and her arms fold across her chest. “A woman like me?”

Oh shit.

I pull a mental Homer and try to clarify, “I mean that, they, the cars aren’t…” I point to a few of the vehicles on the street and say, “Like the brown Ford Taurus or the hunter green Honda Accord are not yours. The parking’s good here at least right now, I just…”

I finally manage to look at her and she’s wearing the sexiest smirk this side of the Mason-Dixon.

“I get it, honey,” she says, letting me off the hook. “My car got totaled a few weeks back. I’m waiting on my insurance company to cut me a check and go shopping.”

I blanche a little. “You weren’t hurt?”

“Naw, but my wheels looked like an accordion.” She shrugs and motions for me to get a move on. “What time is our meeting with the A.D.A.?”

Glancing at my watch, I cuss, “Shit.” If I bust a few speed limits, we may get there in time. “It’s in fifteen minutes.” I put the car in drive and head south. “What happened?”

She crosses her legs and answers, “I was squeezed into a spot in an alley trying to make a bust. The dealer got a little happy with the gas pedal on a garbage truck and…” she turns her hands up in a ‘what are you gonna do’ gesture.

“Where were you when all of this happened and how have you been getting to and from work?” I need to know and then I need to find the dealer and make sure he walks funny the rest of his life.

“I’ve been walking and taking a cab to answer the last question first and I was in the driver’s seat.” She smiles sweetly at me and I manage to focus my eyes back on the road and the yellow light I’m running. Waiting a beat, she finishes, “I jumped out of the car right before it got hit.” Sighing wistfully, she laments, “I’m not too sure what to be more upset about, the car or the shoes?”

I look at her. She didn’t just say shoes? Since when is a pair of shoes more important than a car? “Shoes?”

“Yeah, they were a special pair of heeled boots. Beautiful, soft Italian leather,” she nearly purrs and I swallow. “They also happened to belong to…” As she falters, I glance in her direction and a flash of grief passes over her features. “They belonged to a friend. More sentimental than anything.”

I think I can see that. Just not for shoes. Now, if it were my car, we’d have problems. I try to commiserate, “Well, if it were June Lee I’d understand.”

“June Lee?” she asks.
I pat the dashboard lovingly and make the formal introductions, “Detective Nikki Beaumont, allow me to introduce you to my pride and joy, June Lee.”

She gapes at me for a moment and then her face breaks into a slow grin. “I am then to presume you have a serious emotional attachment to this hunk of metal?”

My head snaps in her direction and I shush her, “Don’t let her hear you call her that. She’s much more than that.”

“Uh-huh,” my partner says unconvinced.

I sigh and explain further, “I was fifteen. Had worked like a dog all spring and summer. Saved every damn penny.” I pull up in front of the courthouse and look down the street aways. Finding an open spot, I gun it and perform the world’s quickest parallel parking job. “Anyway, I was saving up for a car. When my brothers, dad and me went looking, we found June Lee.” I step out of the car and grab my jacket. By the time I have her all locked up, Nikki’s ten feet ahead of me.

She turns around and walks backward as I scurry to catch up. “And that’s the tale of the El Camino.”

I smile and say, “Some of it. There’s a harrowing tale of rescue, refurbishment, and resuscitation. You know all the good, juicy parts happen after I got her home.”

She spins around gracefully, not missing a step as I fall in line with her. She glances my way and says, “At least now I know what type of gal you take home, detective.”

I roll my eyes and hope I’m not as red as I feel.

Shit.

Shit.

Shit.

She just had to go and twist that around.

---

I bump my refrigerator closed with my hip and carry the makings of my dinner to the kitchen counter, while cradling my phone between my shoulder and ear. “So Wichita was?”

“Boring, boring and more boring,” Ann gripes. “I mean I’m sure that it has it’s happening spots, but they were nowhere near my hotel.”

“Ah, question: Swiss cheese or provolone?” I ask as I spread a thin layer of mayo over the sliced open French roll.

“Meat?”

“Roast Beef.”

At the same time we say, “Swiss.” I plop down two slices of cheese and stack the meet on top. Now if only I had some fresh tomatoes. I sigh.

Ann asks, “No tomatoes?”

I roll my eyes and get annoyed that she knows me that well. “Nope. I had some, but this is the first evening I’ve spent at home since I got back. Let’s just say they were growing little tomatoes.”

“You’ll live. So, how’s the new partner?”

“Uhm, they’re alright,” I answer vaguely. “I mean we’ve only caught the one case, but they pulled their weight.” I top the sandwich off with a little pepper and smash the second piece of roll down, securing the contents of my meal.

“They, we…You do know that I know how to play the pronoun game. What gives?” That’s my Ann, no bullshit, she never allows me any.

“It’s a she,” I answer.

“Really?” I hear it in her voice, intrigue and sarcasm all in one go. “What’s she like?”

“Yeah a she, shocked the hell out of me too.” I take a bite of sandwich then sit down on the couch. This feels sooooo much better. A cold beer, a good sandwich, a fresh change of clothes. Do I know how to live or what?

“Nor?”

“Sorry,” I squeak, “I was basking in the glow of a good sandwich and clean clothes.”

She laughs. “Never underestimate the power of taking a shower in your own bathroom.”

“Amen,” I agree, wholeheartedly. “And she’s alright like I said. We’ve only caught the one case, but she pulled her weight. The jury’s still out as a whole, but she can be…frustrating.” I swallow and hope Ann doesn’t do what Ann does best.

She reads people like a psychic, but she’s not. It’s why the Bureau took her. She’s an excellent profiler.

“Hmmm, is she hideous? Does she have a hump and look like Quasimodo? Buck teeth, uber-butch with a mullet and flannel? Come on Nora give up the goods.”

I remain silent as I hear Jill in the background, “Ann, what the hell are you talking about?”

“Nora’s new partner is a she and I’m trying to find out what kind of she, she is,” Ann answers her lover.

Do I even need to be here for this conversation? I take another bite of my sandwich and listen to the banter in the back.

“Oh really,” Jill says, “Nora! I need details!”

“Oh God,” I groan. “See what you’ve started Ann.”

Some rustling on the other end of the line and a click. Damnit, they have me on speaker.

“You do know putting me on speaker phone just annoys the hell out of me?” I say.

“And I want details. Ann never gives me the good stuff,” Jill quasi-pouts on the other end of the line. “So baby, you were asking about buck teeth and bad hair. Nora, please tell me there’s no buck teeth and bad hair?”

Ann laughs as I try and figure out how to describe Nikki without getting myself into a whole other type of mess than finding my new partner attractive. I’ll go with vague, “She’s a few inches taller than me. Brown hair, average weight, average build. No buck teeth, no mullet and I think she may melt if flannel anything ever touched her.”

“Ohh, she likes clothes?” Jill asks.

“I think, but from everything I’ve heard, I think she likes shoes more.” I smile at the thought of her in those heels she had on today. They weren’t tall, actually they were just the right height, but I think they made her ass look better. “And I like clothes,” I amend mildly miffed.

“Nora, you like t-shirts and jeans. That does not make you like clothes.” I should have known not to open my mouth when talking to Jill about clothes. Why did I even go there? She sighs and ribs both me and her wife, “How you two dated for as long as you did is completely beyond me.”

“What?” Ann and I both say together.

I can see Jill’s eye roll. “You two, I mean really, are way too much alike. It’s cute, but you would have never lasted.”

“And just how,” Ann says, offended enough for the both of us, “can you say that?”

“Well, when you two are together, it’s like I’ve got two Ann’s except one of them has blonde hair and gray eyes and I can’t ravish her in the bedroom like I can the other. Even Lee says so.”

I sigh, she’s right. I hate it when she’s right. “Ann, give up. She’s right. We both are t-shirt and jeans girls.”

She adds her own sigh and she says, “But we were good in the bedroom department, if I remember right, there was plenty of sizzle and spark and fireworks too.”

Jill and I both laugh. “There was,” I agree.

“Awe, sweetie, I wasn’t talking about your skills as a lover,” Jill coos over her wife.

I think I may be sick, they’re so cute together.

“Can we can the bedroom talk?” I ask. We really need a different topic of conversation.

“How does she take her coffee?” Ann asks out of the blue.

“Two crèmes and a pack of sugar,” I answer, wondering what the hell kinda question that was for her to ask.

“Long lashes and big, brown eyes, Nor?” Ann follows up.

Oh, Christ. Here we go. Maybe I should be careful what I ask for.

“She does have brown eyes,” I keep it simple, but Jill squees, literally squees, on the other end of the phone.

Contemplatively, Ann says, “I’ll require a bit more data, but Nor, you’re up shit creek dear.”

I take a drink of my beer before I protest, “What are you talking about?”

“Ann,” Jill warns.

“Nothin’ Nor. Look, you enjoy your sandwich and it’s your turn to call us next weekend,” Ann lets it go.

“Actually, it’s your turn to call Ann. I’ll be in Denmark,” Jill follows up.

“Alright,” I agree. “I’ll call you next weekend.”

We share are great heaping pile of love for each other and right before I hit ‘end’ Ann says, “The piper’s callin’ Nora.”

I blink as the line goes dead. Eh?

I think being in Kansas did something to her.

3.1.2 - Up to My Neck