“I was wondering if the offer of a drink if I drink or meal and a drink or just meal, with you, was still open,” I say, smiling at the memory of his offer.
“Yes, yes---it was---definitely----if you want to--,” he begins, stutteringly.
“I want to,” I say, nodding.
“Okay,” he says.
“Okay,” I say, biting my lip to keep from smiling at his awkwardness.
“When like today---if today is too soon that’s fine you probably already have plans today but another day would---”
“I don’t. have plans, today,” I say, holding up a hand to stop him from talking, “Today, after work, would be fine.”
“Okay---you may have to stop me from talking, now and again I tend to say whatever’s in my head,” he says, brushing a stray lock of dark hair out of his face.
“Okay,” I say, “I can handle that.”
“Okay----you really want to—have dinner, with me if dinner is good—”
“Yes, I really want to, with you, dinner or a drink is fine,” I say, smiling again. I like the way he talks, so halting and awkward. It’s a nice change from the usual self centered sick bastards I try to seduce in order to murder.
“Okay---I’ll think of a good place, and let you know, all right?” he asks.
“Sure,” I say, as we walk in the doors, “Just let me know, my number is 667, through the hospital directory.”
“Oh, right---okay,” he says, as I turn to clock in to go to my assigned shift.
“See you tonight, I’m looking forward to it,” I say.
“Me too,” he says, smiling that shy smile again.
Jo has taken Lizzie back home and gone to work herself. She warns me that she’ll have dinner with me tonight, her place this time, provided I don’t stalk her at work. I concede, not wanting her to get into trouble. All things considered, neither of us feel right leaving Lizzie home alone all evening, she’s alone enough while Jo is at work. Jo assures me she has a tablet she’s supposed to read, but I still feel bad for the little girl locked up with her own thoughts for that long. Goodness knows it isn’t good for me. I want to try running, going to the park, doing anything I’d do with legs. But as it is my stumps are too sore to walk much, let alone run, and the doctors warned me I would do well to take care of the fragile skin down there.
It takes me about two hours to be bored. I clean up from the night before, make up the sofa properly and my bed properly, in case Lizzie and Jo agree to come back. I really don’t see why we’d be here when we have a perfectly good warehouse at our disposal, but my mum might come over to make sure I’m still alive so you know, it’s worth it.
Once I’m sufficiently bored doing adult things like dishes and cleaning, and I’ve talked myself out of going for a run because of the state of my not-legs, I think back to what Jo said. being in the dark. Now I’m on the side of the law without night vision goggles.
So before I know it, I’m standing in my bedroom, door closed, lights off, curtain drawn, with a blindfold on. the blindfold is fashioned out of an old PT shirt. I managed to find a bouncy ball, turns out one of the ostensibly useless things my mum brought to entertain me in the hospital is useful. I will thank her again without ever telling her what it’s for. I toss the ball, as hard as I can, in a random direction, listening for the bounce.
It hits me in the head and bounces again, six times before it falls. I don’t catch it, and wind up having to take the blindfold off and crawl around on the floor until I find it. on the eighth time, I can hear the bounce well enough to catch it. on the hundred and twentieth time, the only thing stopping me from catching the ball is my own physical limitations.
(what’re you doing)
I smile. Lizzie’s bored as well. Learning about the dark.
(can you help me)
Do what? I ask, bouncing the ball and twisting to catch it with ease. I’m getting better at this.
(like, you said, help me figure out how to do this so bad people can’t hurt me)
“Right,” I say, taking off the blindfold and holding up the ball, “Do you know there’s a ball in my hand?”
(yeah)
“Okay, try to lift it up---if you start bleeding stop,” I say, remember how Ginny used to bleed from the mouth, eyes, nose, and sometimes ears if she did the telekinesis for too long.
(will I die if I bleed too much?)
“I don’t know let’s not find out though,” I say, as the ball drifts into the air. I reach out and pick it up, as easily as though it were on a plate. She jerks it away from me. I laugh. “Support all sides of it, you’re picking it up as though you would in a hand, close your fist around it.” the ball raises again, this time, when I try to take it, it stays firmly in place.
“Good, do the same when you try to block a person, not everyone will think to step back like I did, but it’s certainly not worth the chance,” I say, as she moves the ball up to bop my nose.
(this is harder)
“Yeah, just get used to it,” I say, poking the ball from underneath, trying to grip it on all sides. She has it firmly in her grasp, though. There’s an invisible force field around the ball.
(thanks)
“Sure thing, if you’re not bleeding, try something bigger,” I say, picking up a pillow. She jerks it from me. I try to grab it back. she shoves me with it, playfully. I fall to the bed, trying to wrestle it out of the air. “You better not be bleedin’, nutcase.”
(a little)
“Okay quit,” I say, letting go and she lets the pillow fall to the bed. “You’ll get stronger.”
(promise you’ll practice with me again?)
“I promise,” I say, staring up at the ceiling, aching too much to get up.
(promise you’re gonna be here if I talk to you?)
“Always,” I say.
Chapter 10
“G
ood evening, mum, I’m going to go and throw up now for at least six hours,” Ziggy says, giving his mother a quick hug before walking towards the barracks probably to do just that.
“He said I’d have to explain that statement,” I say, apologetically.
“Is he all right?” Lt Col Ziegfeld looks after her son worriedly.
“Yeah, no, we found, ah—human remains, out in the woods---we weren’t together we sort of ran into each other out on the trails and then we saw them and spent a really nice afternoon talking to the police about it,” I say, wincing at myself explaining how I wasn’t intentionally spending the day with him. Even though I have every right to he’s a mate I can have mates I can have friends I can have boyfriends I can do anything I want. Titus’ feelings don’t matter that much anyway he would be nicer to me if he actually loved me. He does actually love you he doesn’t know how to be nice, a voice whispers. Of course that’s true but I can choose to ignore it.
“That’s horrible, one of our cadets died last night as well,” she says.
“Really?” I ask, “That’s awful, one of the Project 10s?”
“Yes, it was terrible, they think he did it to himself,” she says, shaking her head.
“The remains we found the police think are linked to a serial killer they’ve been tracking for sometime, first time it’s happened this close to the base, though,” I say, sighing, “Well, I should be going to change, and do laundry, I didn’t end up doing anything today after that.”
“Then you really aren’t going to like this---I had a quick favor to ask you,” she says.
“What’s Titus done?” I ask.
“Nothing yet---I was talking to him this morning, and his daughter has been asking about her mother,” she says, “He’s thinking of contacting the woman, for his little girl’s sake.”
“That’s remarkably selfless of him,” I say, frowning, “I’d think he’d want to keep her all to himself; he’s so possessive of her.”
“He does, he really doesn’t want to go through with it, but I tried to tell him it’s for his daughter’s good,” Ziegfeld says.
<
br /> “That’s good of you, I’ve not been keeping up on his ‘how to be human’ lessons lately,” I say.
“On which note---he’s going to ask you to go with him to meet her, before he introduces her to their daughter—and before you say no because I don’t blame you I don’t recommend most people have prolonged exposure to him---”
“---and I appreciate that---”
“---I’m not recommending you even consider it for his sake, but for the little girl’s sake, and the poor woman’s, she probably would like to meet her daughter and Titus can be---”
“Impossible, callous, rude, and downright evil when he wants to be?” I suggest, folding my arms. My instinct is to say no I’m not in the mood for him as it is. Talking with Ziggy today was good. It was nice it was normal just as mates---but why not, not as mates? Who gives a damn if he’s a bit younger than me? It would be fun. It would be good for me. Above all else, it would be somebody who isn’t Titus.
“Yes, all those things, and just think of having to meet him and knowing he’s the father of your child,” she says.
“Oh my god, we can’t let him do that,” I realize, “We tolerate him---”
“Because we know him and he’s actually a lonely, sad person deep down but on first impression he’s---”
“A monster, yeah, no we can’t let somebody do that, as a woman I can’t let some other woman just meet him, like that,” I say, wincing at the thought. It’s bad enough on a daily basis knowing I consensually slept with him, let alone not knowing what a wonderful, gentle, sensitive---- asshole. Complete asshole. He can be sometimes. When he wants to be. Which is really rare but when he doesn’t; he’s not like anyone else. I sigh. That’s my problem.
“I know. I’ll do it if you don’t want to but he said he would ask you,” she says.
“No, I’ll go,” I say, “He’s been wanting me to meet his daughter anyway.”
“You haven’t?” she asks.
“No, hearing him talk about her is bad enough---I mean--,” I say, stopping myself as I realize it isn’t making sense. “I mean, it’s hard enough to know he can be---”
“Kind?” she offers.
“Yeah,” I say, taking a deep breath.
“He says he hurt you,” she says.
“Did he tell you how?” I ask, looking away.
“No, he won’t talk about it, he just said he did,” she says.
“What did he say?” I ask, looking at the ground.
“He said he didn’t know what love was until he laid eyes on you, and that he didn’t know what it felt like to be loved until you let him kiss you, and that because he is—the way he is---he’s afraid he’ll never feel it again,” she says.
“You see that---that is completely typical of that sick bastard,” I say, angrily, “That is exactly typical of the sort of pathetic thing he says that makes me fall in love with him and---and I can’t do that.”
“I’m sorry,” she says, “He’s not an easy person to like.”
“He’s a completely impossible person to love,” I say, realizing my voice is cracking.
“He told me this a long time ago, though. when I was first training him---”
“Oh, yeah, I’ve known he’s an asshole for years,” I say, wiping my face with the back of my arm. I’m crying. I don’t cry. “I’m not actually upset about that, right now. I’ve sort of forgiven him for that.”
“Do you want me to talk to him?” she asks.
“No, no, I will, eventually it’s just---something I can’t get my head around,” I say. He could’ve landed that ship. He could’ve saved Leavitt. I know he could’ve landed that ship. He’s the best pilot in the Force why didn’t he? And more than that, why can’t I believe he just made a mistake? Ziegfeld’s already talked to me about it and she’s right. He’s human. He made a mistake, that’s it. a costly one but a mistake. He doesn’t make mistakes, the voice whispers. Yes he does he’s human he’s not a god as much as he likes to think he is.
“Don’t worry too much about it, he doesn’t deserve it,” she says.
“You’re right there,” I say, taking a deep breath, “I should be getting back to change before Titus does show up to ask me.”
“Don’t say yes quickly,” she says.
“Oh I won’t,” I say, smiling conspiratorially.
“Ladies, could I ask you something---that has absolutely nothing to do with the TWO murders that took place within a mile radius of here-----can either of you account for Major Card’s movements last night?” Thorn asks, walking up to us from the direction of the barracks.
“I didn’t see him after dinner,” Ziegfeld says.
“Sir, he went home, changed, then walked his daughter home from class, they got dinner,” I say, tiredly.
“Excellent you were with him?” Thorn asks, hopefully.
“No, sir, he randomly calls me to tell me what he’s doing and ask me what I am doing, I usually hang up on him or make sarcastic comments but the transcripts will be there,” I say, shrugging.
“Right, thanks, like I said, purely random thought, carry on,” he says, walking on.
“Sir, can’t you get him flight cleared?” I call after him.
“Save us all a lot of time and energy?” Ziegfeld asks.
“Believe me I’m trying.”
“Nah, you look too nice, you need to go and change I’m not having you go out looking like that; you’ll out shine me,” I say. I’m sitting with my feet up waiting for Bridget to change her clothes for the eighth time. I can only be cocky because I stopped on the sixth.
“In theory she’s heterosexual,” Bridget says, ignoring me and looking at herself in the mirror.
“Yeah well, I’m not having you turn her lesbian, put on a coat at least,” I say, tossing her her leather coat from where it lay next to me on a chair.
“Are you sure you want to go out with me and Jason?” she asks, “It’s not very cool, double dating with your step-daughter.”
“On the contrary double dating with one’s step daughter is the definition of cool---look up cool in any search engine and you will find---”
“Shut up—are you sure your Shannon’s okay with it?” she asks.
“Yeah, in all seriousness she is. She suggested it, actually, all I said was if she didn’t mind we would stalk you guys as a nice walk after our restaurant,” I say, “she said why not cut out the stalking and go together?” that was a message conversation I would be amused by for years to come. I like this girl. She killed that slime Steele I’m sure of it. Yesterday she’s flirting with him. today he’s dead in his flat. Tonight she’s going out with me. I hope she doesn’t want to try to kill me. That would be fun, but, come on, I’m pretty sure we’re going to have plenty of fun together once our mutual taste in recreational activities are realized. ‘I know you’re a murder, and you like cutting people up, and thing is I’ve got something really funny to tell you about that—’ is an awkward conversation to have, however.
“Great just don’t scare her off in one date,” she says, as we go out the door.
“I won’t. I always tell women I’m a sociopathic cannibal on the third date, fourth if they’re jumpy,” I say.
“Did you pull that with my mum?” she laughs.
“Yeah, she didn’t believe me, wouldn’t you know,” I say, laughing at the memory. Oh how the stupid fall.
“Yeah---odd, maybe don’t joke about murdering people all together,” she laughs.
“I won’t,” I say, honestly.
“Major Tom?”
“Why do you knock on my door when you know I’m in here and you’ll spend the whole time looking at your bloody tablet and you’ve seen me naked as it is?” I ask, opening the door to let him in. The seen me naked it bit is not only because I’ve had sex with him but we trained together and cadets eat sleep and bathe coed, as we do on missions.
“Because I thought it would be endearing clearly not---right, so I’ve a favor to ask you,” he says, leaning in the d
oorway and reading off his tablet and not watching as I finish getting dressed. I answered the door in my bra and SBU pants, and I appreciated he did not look appreciatively at me.
“Lt Col Ziegfeld said you were thinking of meeting Tess’s mum,” I say.
“Would you come? Just help me get a look at her?” he asks, glancing up, “I’d like somebody to be there.”
“Why?” I ask, tiredly.
“Because I’d sooner be with you anytime than being alone, especially doing something like this,” he says.
“Fine,” I say, “I can’t stay out too late though we’ve got the cadets to train in the morning.”
“I haven’t forgotten about them,” he says, cheering up that I’ve said yes, “And go ahead and change, we don’t need to be in uniform, that might look odd.”
“Oh, yeah, right, I haven’t got many civvies,” I say, pausing in buttoning the blouse. I notice he’s not in SBUs, he usually isn’t when not on duty. Something I don’t bother with but he does. He’s wearing a black collared shirt, black, fatigue like pants, and a neat black cloth jacket. He looks nice out of his SBUs, not like him, but nice.
“Here you are,” he says, taking off the jacket, “Put that over a black t-shirt, it’ll look all right.”
“Yeah, close enough,” I say, stepping out of my pants and going to get a civilian pair from the closet, “I don’t suppose it matters what I look like.”
“You always look fine,” he says, glancing up then back down, now his face does get red, but not from looking at me. I should say something. but I don’t.
“Okay, let’s go, where are we meeting her?” I ask.
“I’ll explain,” he says.
“Do you really hate it here?” I ask Terrance. We are sitting in the library, ostensibly studying. Major Card has decided I need to learn Russian. I didn’t tell him I already knew Russian because then he’d think of something else for me to do and I’d sooner do as I please.
“When did I say that?” he asks.
“The first day I met you,” I say, surprised he doesn’t remember. It was our first day at OTS, and of course I’m not University so I stood out like a sore thumb.
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