by Tara Wimble
“Apparently she signed up for a French class at the start of last semester and didn’t go, so she needs to pass this midterm in order to drop it.” Lexie bites her lip. “It’s going well I think.”
Robin continues to speak out loud. “Zest, cest, c’est? What?”
It’s definitely not going well.
“Stop.” Robin taps at her iPod.
Janice itches her wrist. “Why does that sound like-?”
“Who even speaks French anymore?” More grumbling sounds
“No.” Robin states, and for a second they both think she’s given up. Until her back straightens in success. “Well, that one was easy.”
Robin’s nonsensical studying is only able to distract them for a moment before it comes crashing on them again. Lexie looks good. Their trail trip has left her face blotted with tan and red sunburnt shoulders. She’s wearing a large white shirt, something they’d all picked up from a bar crawl with the politics society, and it only just covers the denim shorts she’s wearing.
It looks like she got dressed a while ago. Around the same time Janice did.
That apology comes out like a rubix cube. After several hundred moves.
Janice sits and stands and paces. Lexie darts her eyes and fiddles with her shirt. Robin keeps her back to them.
Janice’s throat is dry and her hands are sweaty. She points out the bikes, the tan, how was Lexie’s day yesterday- how’s Robin and with every question, the tension grows. Yet Lexie answers her. She’s cleaning the bikes tomorrow, it was sunny, it was a good day; she says with a look at Robin’s back, and she’s great.
They’ve never been at this point. They’ve never had to make friends. Lexie was her friend the moment Janice rocked up at the registration with her opening line. There was no other option.
They never prepared for this.
She finally finds the blue prints of her apology. “I’m sorry.”
It comes out. It strikes the air and the look on Lexie’s face. An expression that wears surprise that Janice said it first. For all her stubbornness, Janice knows that Lexie expected to be the one to say it first.
But it’s thin. There’s feelings she needs to transfer into the words, to mean them, to make it okay but the room is stifling. Robin is still chanting her words that make no sense. Lexie still has her arms crossed and eyes turned down. For all her talk of letting go, Hope never said that there’d be so many things to set aside to make her apology work.
It doesn’t feel right to say it like this. Like there’s something else to put out there.
For now all she has are blueprints of her masterpiece. “Lexie, I’m so sorry.” Her voice cracks, frustrated with herself, but it comes out tearful.
Lexie can see through it. She can see there’s something bubbling underneath it. A hopeful spark.
She could ignore it. Of course she could.
But there’s a reason that Janice approached Lexie that first day.
“I’m sorry too.”
And it glimmers in the dim light.
Janice wants to reach out. Her own wrist itches for it. They remain on opposing sides.
There’s a light at the end of all of this now that wasn’t there before. It’s small, it’s flickering and threatening to go out but it’s there and there’s time. Time to let go.
Neither of them can find something to say, not least to embark further down this road while Robin’s mangled French becomes their background music, and so it’s left for another time.
“Are you going to Amy’s game?” Lexie asks. It’s the first question she’s had posed to her.
Janice, sweaty palms and cold chill, nods.
Lexie goes to her bedside table and pulls the draw out. She takes out a small pot and pushes her hand out into the large space between their bodies. “Laurel said she’d run out of face paint for you guys so,”
Janice’s hand eagerly stretches out and bumps Lexie’s knuckles. “Here.”
A shock runs through them both as Lexie tips the pot into her hand.
“Thanks.”
It’s her room but Janice suddenly feels like she’s overstaying her welcome. “I’ll go give her this and- the game-”
“Later tonight.” They both say.
Janice swallows. “I’ll see you there.”
It’s a natural ending for now. Janice steps around the bikes, breathing once more with her back to Lexie, and it feels like she's failed.
But there's a small, stalling progress.
And Hope.
***
THERE’S something about seeing Vianne awake, blinking and smiling, that knocks her for a loop. Alive.
It's the most alive she's seen her and she's still hooked and strapped to a dozen machines. Hope tentatively steps forward into the room and Vianne, who's side is held vigil by a rare sight of Sara sleeping, rewards her footsteps by reaching out to her.
“Quietly.” Vianne asks. Hope looks at Sara briefly seeing only a small relief in her slumbering expression. "I was wondering when I’d see you."
Then her attention is back on her partner. She’s still pale and looking timid as the bed seems to swallow her body. It’s a harsh contrast to the cool black shirt and the security of the badge on her chest. All that she can see are the heart monitor circles stuck below her collar and the wires that follow on from them.
"I was wondering when you'd wake up." Hope has flowers. This time they're actually from her, not Uma, and a card that she holds to her chest as she steps to Vianne's side.
There's a drop in her foot and the pretense falls.
Vianne's face crumples, as do the flowers against her white shirt as Hope leans over the bed and wraps her in a tight embrace. Petals break from buds and stems snap but the card remains intact even as Vianne shakes and Hope tries not to cry.
She muffles the apology she's waited to say to her face and Vianne shakes her head against her collar. “Don’t, don’t-” Hope’s hand cradles the back of Vianne’s head. Her hair is limp, unaccustomed to the hospital washes and not Vianne’s eye rolling own regime.
“She’s only just gone to sleep.”
Hope sets down the flowers. Some of them snap off onto the bedside dresser, others hold on. “Has she been home?” The card is placed under a box of tissues for later.
“Not much.” Vianne admits. Though from the state of her, Hope can see why Sara is reluctant to leave her for too long. “Hey.”
“Hey yourself.”
Vianne sniffles and picks up one of the tissues on her bedside dresser. It pulls out of the box before Hope can do it for her and Vianne wipes her eyes and her nose. “Sorry.”
That word makes her flinch. Wrong person saying it.
“How are you feeling?” Hope asks.
“Restless.” And tired by the look of it. “They’re not saying much to me.”
“Physically, I mean.” She could look at Vianne’s chart or ask her doctor but she doesn’t want to know about how many surgeries she’s going to have to endure, the things they need to do or how much rehabilitation awaits her- she wants to hear from Vianne.
“I don’t know.” Vianne replies. “How did you feel?”
Different situation. Mostly because when she was shot it was her own doing. Her own fault. In a way she should probably know what Vianne feels like to have been hit by the grace of her actions. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re not going to do this.” Vianne interrupts her planned apology.
“I haven’t even said anything.”
“Sara told me.”
Told her arms and elbows and screaming. Pushing Hope into a wall and yelling at her to not apologise for doing what she did.
“That’s not how I wanted you to hear.”
Vianne balls up the tissue in her hand. “If I wasn’t in this hospital bed, I’d be kind of flattered to have two hot women fighting over me.”
Hope can barely manage to show her amusement.
Vianne murmurs. “Thank you.”
She raise
s her head slowly. Her eyes ask Vianne to hold her words in but her partner has never cared for following all of Hope’s rules. “Sit and listen and shake your head if you want but, thanks. For saving my life.”
“I didn’t.”
“Of course you did” Vianne’s head flumps back on the pillow, already tired with the way this is going to go. “The doctors and nurses saved my leg, but it was you that saved the rest of me.”
“I figured I owed you.”
She shows a small part of her heart to Vianne’s words and gets some in return. “Well, remember to tell Cap Letterman that when you’re getting your next medal. I saved you first.”
“It’s not a competition.”
“It’s not? Dang, I was gonna compare battle scars next.” Vianne’s smile starts out well but as Hope refuses to match her look it falters and settles into a sigh. “I’m okay you know? It’s not the end of the world.”
“It isn’t?”
“I’m here. I’m alive. And as much as you hate me saying it apparently, that’s down to you. Down to having a partner who’s there to watch my back. Always.” Vianne rubs the sheets on her bed between her thumb and her finger. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
She would have probably been on a different detail, not getting shot, and making strides in her career. Or it would have been the same, with someone else failing to watch her fall.
“I miss you too.”
That seems to cheer her up. “They stuck you with another rookie. It’s not Anja is it?”
“No.” Hope brushes some of the flower petals off her shirt. “I’m working with Cap until you get out.”
“You might be waiting a while.” Vianne tells her honestly.
“I don’t mind.”
“You don’t think she’s thinking of moving you out of basic?”
“Why risk it?” Hope says. “Scully and Rollins have made it clear they don’t want me near their departments and I don’t have a lot of good recommendations.”
“I’ll write you one.” Vianne grins. “Hope Sorenson: a good partner, could be less self-depreciating, nice hair, nice arms, good in a pinch-”
“Sure, I’ll let you know when homicide calls me up.”
“Homicide?” Vianne asks curiously. “So you’d jump right into the deep end?”
If it kept her on the right side of the trigger pulling, Hope wouldn’t be opposed to anywhere.
“They’d be lucky to have you.” Vianne continues when Hope doesn’t respond. “Anywhere would.”
Luck triggers her mind elsewhere. The first glimmer of something other than regret fills her face. It beams out at Vianne like a lighthouse guiding her in.
“Oh, what’s that?”
Luck. Happiness. Things working out the way she wants them too.
“I-” She looks over at Sara, who’s still asleep to her delight, and she scratches the back of her neck before carrying on. “-went to the beach house.”
“Oh.”
“With Janice.”
Vianne’s smile reels out. “Oh!” Her voice peaks and she glances at Sara, a soft affection flickers over her face, before looking back at Hope with a hushed excitement. “You didn’t!”
“I don’t know what I’m not meant to have done-”
“You got back together?”
A nod is all she needs to have Vianne stupidly wiggling. “Are you trying to dance?”
“Hey-” Vianne stops. “My leg is locked in a brace and I’ve got tubes going out everywhere, this is the best dancing you’ve ever seen, buddy.”
Hope laughs and a lightness finally finds a home in her chest.
“I’m so-urgh” Vianne sighs happily. “-good for you. Both of you. I’m happy for you guys.”
“Thanks.”
“Just be good to her alright?” Vianne warns cheekily. “Us dark horses gotta keep hold of the right ones.”
Sara and Janice are decidedly good. Good at putting up with them. “Yeah, yeah.”
The beeps and the drips keep sounding out from the machines surrounding Vianne. “Thanks for coming to see me, even if you wish you were out with your girl.”.
She’s on the mend. She’s alive. She’s okay.
A part of her hasn’t stopped worrying about her since she shielded her during the shooting. A part of her never left that crime scene.
Until now.
Hope pulls her chair forward and holds Vianne’s hand. “Don’t be stupid. You’re my girl too.”
They dissolve into easier topics. Lighter words and conversations that stray as far from the hospital walls at possible. There’s nowhere she’d rather be.
Not making a sound, on her chair and under the blanket, Sara Winter smiles.
***
IT’S a home game on one of the grass pitches that the college loans out to local club teams. Amy’s college season ended early when they were knocked out of the playoffs but she picked herself up and managed to help her club team get one stage further.
If they win they’ll be playing away, hence why Laurel is so enthusiastic to get her friends to come to this incase there’s no way to get to the next game if there’s a next game at all.
Lexie feels a little bad that she hasn’t made as much effort as she wishes to get to know Laurel’s girlfriend. They’ve hung out a few times as a group but as the year had gone on, getting together with Robin, classes- everyone has drifted into their easy routines. And into their fractured friendships.
Janice is up front with Laurel as they walk to the pitch. Lexie stares at her back thinking a lot about what happened in her room before, trying to come up with something to say back to Janice. There wasn’t a lot in it. As if Janice was struggling to find words. Or that she didn’t want to be saying them.
Lexie doesn’t know.
“Do you want food?”
Lexie swings their hands. Robin watches the little motion. “I think I can wait until the half.”
“Alright.”
They get into their seats as the teams are warming up. It hadn’t taken too long, the only disruption being when they’d had to pay (“How much?!” Janice muttered something else to Laurel and their friend swatted her shoulder) and what order they were going to sit.
Laurel and Robin act as dividers. Janice sits to Laurel’s left and Lexie to Robin’s right.
Apparently neither of them believed that everything was okay.
They all pretend not to notice because they’re here for Amy and not to cause a fight between them. Robin doesn’t talk much to Janice, making Lexie suspicious as to whether she was really flailing over her French work or using it as a cover to listen to their conversation.
Robin didn’t get a chance to say anything to her if she had listened. No sooner had Janice left, Robin had moved her studying into the kitchen to be closer to the fridge. Lexie had sat in Robin’s room, feeling out of place and confused, texting her sister to see how she was doing.
After a few short replies she’d spun the wheels on her bike and watched the spokes go around and around. What she wouldn’t have given to just take off and cycle until her legs failed her. But she’d promised Laurel and after an hour on her own they’d all made their way out.
They spot Amy finishing her warm ups and Lexie indulges in the atmosphere. She hasn’t played soccer in a while and watching Amy get into the huddle with her team makes her think about maybe trying out for a club team next year. It keeps her from thinking that next year seems so up in the air.
By the time the game gets underway, Robin has already caved and bought food while Janice is holding bits of conversation with Laurel between her listening and clapping for Amy. Every now and then Lexie will hear snippets.
“And then we were just talking on the sand-”
“I think we’re going to be okay now as long as we can get-”
“-meeting for a run.”
“Yes, she heard you on the phone.”
Lexie assumes they’re about Hope and her weekend. Despite their distance
it makes her happy to know that one thing has turned out okay.
“Ooh, that was good.” Robin tries to pull her back into the action, offering her commentary and nachos.
She takes one of them.
The game is slowly finding a rhythm. Lexie isn’t.
“But I was thinking maybe we could go and see it in a few days. I mean, I know you’ll all love the place so I’m not worried about it-” Janice is engaged with Laurel about the apartment and it hits Lexie that there’s another huge decision to think about.
Will she even live with them? God, what if they don’t get past this? What if she’s left without somewhere to live?
Robin whistles as someone does something impressive on the pitch and Lexie feels her stomach drop. What if Robin drops out and then she’s really left with nowhere to live and not even her girlfriend?
It makes trying to cheer when Amy streaks past a defender harder.
“You’re not watching.” Robin nudges her. “Amy just did something sweet.”
“She hasn’t scored yet.”
“Yet.” Robin grins.
“GO AMY!” Laurel yells loudly after picking up on Lexie’s doubt and Janice joins in. Soon the four of them are starting a wave of cheering for the team that builds and builds until Amy is linking up with her striking teammate, passing back to Chapman and then-
GOAL.
“AMY!”
It’s amazing that everything can fade watching a ball being slotted into the back of a net. Amy is gathered up by her two closest teammates while the crowd watching makes as much noise as they can.
Everything fades and comes back with a new clarity.
They’re going in the right direction.
Janice coming into her own room was something different. Lexie saw her in a new light. A new focus.
It was like looking at a stranger.
Lexie glances down the row to where Janice is caught up in her celebration with Laurel. Seeing her earlier was like looking at someone who had moved further away than you ever thought they would.
Robin's echoing cheer for Amy goes on without her as she's trapped in looking at Janice.
Janice her best friend.
Janice who was the first to break the ice.
