by Cabe Sparrow
"Don't." He motioned with his hand.
"Didn't they teach you in the academy not to take any meds on an empty stomach?"
"How did you-…”
Her voice trailed off, realizing once again that over the last week, she really did forget that Turner had psychic abilities. "Nevermind," she mumbled, trying to pretend she didn’t notice the flash of concern in his blue eyes.
"What do you want? Seriously, it's not even noon yet and I'm already in a pissed off mood, anything I could help with?" she asked. Here, behind closed doors, with only his warm blue eyes cataloging her every glance and action, she might feel more exposed. She had come to realize, regardless of her desires, that she trusted Eric Turner. He made her feel safe even when she didn’t want to admit it.
"Just concerned for you, that's all. I couldn't imagine how it must feel to have another psychiatrist analyze you so soon after what happened."
His honesty surprised her. She wasn't expecting him to admit that he was checking up on her. She waited for a playful comment or a double-edged compliment, and here he was, leaning with his elbows on his knees, very much the worried man he admitted to being.
His expression softens her immediately, "Its fine, I've learned that shrinks and I don't get along."
"How could anyone?" He replied, earning a small smile from her. Their eyes met and she caught her breath just barely enough to notice.
Blue eyes on green eyes as they battle it out, with every passing second, wondering if perhaps they've strained this for far too long. She wanted to speak up and reproach him for his childish manners. She wanted to demand an explanation for why he seems to already be putting the brakes on this, on whatever this could be.
Watson has never really been the confrontational type in her personal life; therefore, she remained silent, challenging him with her deducing green eyes, trying to exude a power over him she wasn't sure she possessed.
When it seemed like he was just about to crack, maybe just a little, there was a sharp knock on the door and she was forced to concede. Rodrigues poked his head in without invitation, already frowning when he notices Turner's presence.
His eyes strain on Watson and she stiffened in her seat, knowing what is about to come, but the older man didn’t even flinch.
"There's a new case, gather your team for briefing in conference room A," Rodrigues informed, before slamming her door none too gently. He knew her meeting with Dr. Barnett didn't go so well, but at least the blond woman hadn't told on her, or better yet failed her on her evaluation.
She'll probably have to thank her for that later, but for right now, Watson focused her attention on Turner once more. He was already at his feet, as if glad for the interruption, but for her it's another extension, another miserable deterrent to the outcome of this game they are playing.
He didn’t say anything, but when she walked out of her office, he held the door for her. It was as if an understanding passed between them. His blue eyes promised that they will talk later and Watson conceded again. She could't help but fix him with a long, hard look cautioning him not to disappoint her this time.
She walked ahead of him, motioning her team to follow her, and tried very hard to ignore the butterflies fluttering in her stomach as she felt a dark cobalt gaze of appreciation follow her every move.
She's not fond of office gossip, mostly because it isn't very professional and because she'd been on the receiving end of it just a few days ago. However, a part of her was curious as she overheard Barnes and Cranston whispering by the coffee machine.
"Anything interesting?" She interrupted quite rudely and two jumped apart from each other as if they were on a spring. Watson took a bite out of the apple in her hand and Ngmped loudly for annoyance.
Ng would say Turner's obnoxiousness was rubbing off on her, but she knew her staff could see through her playful facade.
She was only joking, but the two looked positively flushed, as if she caught them making devious plans to pursue an in-office romance right under her nose. "Nothing, excuse me" Cranston made a quick escape, walking back to her desk. Barnes narrowed his eyes, positively livid for being abandoned.
Watson relaxed in the tall man's presence, assuring him with her smile that she meant no harm, "I'm only joking. Just thought I'd catch up on my gossip, what's the latest?"
She poured coffee into a ceramic cup, hoping it wouldn’t taste as vile as it usually does, when she felt the tension radiate off Barnes in waves. "Come on, I'm not that scary," she teased and Barnes was quick to concur.
"Yeah, it's not about you. We just sort of found out something about Turner, kind of surprising."
Her hand paused next to the creamer, "Oh?"
She tried to appear nonchalant, but even Barnes could see through it, "Uh, yea, he put his house up for sale." Suddenly the hot wave of realization and subsequent shame coated her cheeks. She felt the air get stuffy around her, but thanked her well-trained composure for the maintained air of disinterest.
"Oh really, that's uh, some news." She murmured, and before anyone could call her on her bullshit, she disappeared back in her office. Her body felt heavy as she dropped into her chair, coffee and apple both forgotten, as she sat staring off into space.
She felt disappointed. Not in Turner, but in herself, for doubting him.
The man she thought was pushing against her, shutting her out, was just doing the exact opposite, and she's been too self-involved and uninterested to care.
He was taking a step forward while she assumed that he was taking a step back and all of the sudden, she feels like she failed him for not pushing for an explanation and choosing to act juvenile instead.
The urge to cry overwhelmed her to the point that she had to take a deep breath, straining for clarity as much as for oxygen, trying to figure out when she lost sight of the bigger picture. This went beyond her petty insecurities or his thirst for vengeance. This was about healing, and no matter what goes on between them outside this office, she had to show him that he could count and rely on her.
She knew Turner will fight her every step of the way.
However, she's Natalie Watson and she certainly never backed down from a challenge.
Game on.
Chapter 3
The moment she walked into the bullpen, Turner knew something was different about her. He didn’t even have to open his eyes or move from his very comfortable position on the couch to realize that Watson breezed by him without so much as a look his way; quite different from the glares she's been shooting him all week.
Instantly, the advisor knew that she must have somehow found out what he's been up to these past few days. There seems to be no other explanation for why she was suddenly much less hostile towards him. He could't blame her for being so cold to him; after all he'd given her mixed signals and then shut her out just as quickly.
However, sitting on her porch that night, sharing more than just a bottle of whiskey, felt more normal and exciting to him than any soul searching or fight for revenge ever had. If spending just a few intimate hours with the feisty brunette could suddenly appeal more to him than the years he's spent hunting down his family's murderer, then there is very good reason for Turner to stay away from Detective Watson.
When he got off the couch and their eyes met through the yet to be fixed window in her office, he realized why it's been so hard to detach himself from her and what possibly contributed to the impromptu decision to finally sell his house. It had a lot to do with the owner of the curious and warm green eyes watching him across the room. No sympathy in them, just understanding.
He spent the rest of the day wondering how he could ever fight his attraction to her when she keeps looking at him like that. He didn’t get her alone until later that night.
Watson sent the entire team home after a particularly grueling case finally closed and Turner feigned sleep until Ng bids his boss good bye.
The irony of the dark office and the fact that they were probably the only two p
eople still in the building except night security didn’t escape him. This wasn’t he best way to distance yourself from someone. Then again, Turner knew about his incapability to follow rules, even the ones he set for himself.
He made his way into Natalie Watson's office, trying very hard not to fixate on the way the light from the desk lamp illuminated her translucent skin and glimmering chestnut hair, making him want to run his fingers through both.
With such dangerous thoughts swirling in his head, Turner tried to conceal them by doing what he did best: annoying the hell out of his supervising detective.
She was so consumed with paperwork, she didn’t even notice his presence until he dropped a white cellophane bag in the middle of her desk. It not only startled her, but also made her lose her place. "Turner..." Her voice trailed off as she leans back in her chair and messages her temples, too tired to be truly frustrated with the man.
"Good evening, or should I say morning to you too, " He replied back, sitting down in the chair opposite her desk. Watson checked her watch and groans. It's only now that she was rudely interrupted that she realized its way past the acceptable time one should be at work.
Closing her eyes for a second, Watson smirked humorlessly, "I might as well not go home, huh?" She mused, noting that she'll have to be back here in just a few hours.
"Take the morning off."
Her eyes snapped up at his suggestion and Turner gave her one of his brilliant smiles, "You're acting like the world will fall apart if you do. Let someone else take the reins for once, it won't kill ya." Watson almost snorted.
"Easy for you to say, it's not like it's your job on the line."
She didn’t know why she said it, but his suggestion seemed too personal, almost too intimate, like he was concerned about her again. As much as Natalie committed herself to taking care of others, she had a hard time accepting others doing the same for her. Like right now.
"You think that just because Rodrigues turned over Red River Killer to that asshole- ..." he saw her disapproving gaze from beneath long eyelashes and corrected himself, "I mean the ever charming Detective Harper, your credibility is under question? Watson, we both know Rodrigues did it because of me and my slightly unorthodox methods of police work."
There was a hint of regret laced with mirth in his voice that almost made her forget her occupational insecurities, but he opened the can of worms and she found herself talking against her better judgment.
"It's not that. I've just never had anyone bring my professional skills under question. Having all of that happen under the watch of my old mentor, it's just... unnerving I guess. I've worked too hard." Her downcast gaze and the nervous way she fiddled with her shirtsleeves made his heart clench in a very unfamiliar way.
Up to this point, their friendship or whatever this was, consisted of Turner screwing up too close to home. He could deal with that. Watson bailing him out, and pulling him out of the deep, dark places his mind ventured to whenever something hit. Now, especially after everything she's been through, due in part to his unruly behavior, Turner could't handle watching her doubt herself or the career she'd single handedly built through hard work and dedication.
"And nothing had changed." He reassured, "I promise your work will still be here tomorrow. You have got to give yourself a break."
Natalie looked up then to find that once again Eric Turner's eyes betray everything he was feeling and it frightened her. He's usually so good at masking his inner feelings, so good in fact, that most of the time everyone around him sees only what he wants them to see.
To have him be so open with her, even when he's trying to convince her to take care of herself, is testament to feelings she might not want to confront yet. Issues that seem to haunt them both, roadblocks of their own making that won't let them be just two people with a genuine interest in each other.
She only now realized just how tired she truly was. Turner knew he won her over as soon as she sat up and stacked the remaining paperwork into a neat pile and into a folder in her drawer. Their eyes both fell on the bag in her desk.
"Aren't you going to see what I brought you?" he asked with his eyes once again retaining their whimsical glint.
"Do I want to know?" Watson quipped back, a smile tugging at her lips. Regardless, she untied the bag and when her smile grew wider, Turner knew the risk of her still being upset with him is worth it just to see her as shy and feminine as she is right now.
Watson wasn't surprised that Turner knew exactly what her favorite midnight snack was but it didn’t stop the fluttering feeling in her belly or the warmness spreading on her cheeks when she pulled out the packets of Red Vines and Kettle Corn.
"I'm not even going to ask how you knew, but I will say thank you." The woman grinned openly at him and Turner tried in vain to ignore the feelings her smile aroused. It's been a long time since he noticed someone else or something else besides his blind revenge, and right now he was glad it's her.
Silence fell over them, as Watson placed the items back in the bag and continued to clean her desk. Somewhere in the middle of her task, she thought about the man in front of her and how at ease she felt. It struck her that everything could be so normal between them when so much was left unsaid.
For now though, she wanted to enjoy the moment and revel in the fact that he stayed up while she worked, took time to pick out her favorite snack foods, and expressed a genuine concern in how she was doing.
She made a decision that most would probably think her crazy for, because Turner was still a dangerous man and she shouldn't trust him with her feelings, but she knew she had gone too far for it to matter. All she could do now is take a deep breath and hope for the best.
"Hey Turner, what's my favorite movie?" she stunned him and took a bit of pleasure in seeing a genuine look of surprise on his face.
"It's a tie, actually."
"Oh really?"
"Yeah, it's between Breakfast at Tiffany's and The Breakfast Club." He explained. A teasing smile grew on his face when he realized by the look in her eye that he was, in fact, right. "I see a pattern there," He added and Watson rolled her eyes, "I'm good aren't I?"
Watson shook her head, "Depends. Which one do you prefer?"
"Hmm, I am partial to idealistic brunettes." He said in a low voice and Watson swore the man was trying to kill her with his innuendo.
"Well then you're in luck, because I have Breakfast at Tiffany's on DVD."
"Are you inviting me over, Agent Watson?"
"Only if you say yes."
Their eyes met again in the dimness of her office and there was no denying the tension between them. The air sizzled with electricity but also uncertainty, because there was still that proverbial elephant in the room. The one they were both trying desperately to ignore as they continued playing this game. Eventually one of them will lose, but for now Turner thinks it's just too much fun.
It was so easy to lose himself in the depths of her eyes and the radiance of her smile that he didn’t even care about the consequences, at least not at the moment.
"Like I said," His voice trailed off as he leaned over her desk, his face so close she could smell the faint remnants of his cologne, "blushing brunettes are sort of my thing." Then he stepped out of her office, promising to be at her apartment in 20 minutes.
She paired their movie snacks with two bottles of beer and they settled in cozily on her couch, a light duvet draped over their laps. Watson tried to ignore the way Turner rested his arm casually over the back of the sofa, his fingers gently tangling in her hair, sending goose bumps down her spine.
She was sure the sugar content in both the candy and the popcorn would keep her up at least until her favorite part in the movie. Half an hour into the film, Watson found herself dozing off, barely able to keep her eyes open.
The next thing she knew, she felt herself being lowered onto the pillow, and despite how incredible it felt to finally relax and give into sleep, Watson registered the absence of the man
beside her and opened her eyes, only to find him leaning beside the couch, draping the blanket over her.
"You fell asleep", He whispered, his face mere inches away from hers, and she didn’t want to move. Her eyes closed for a moment, and she reveled in the feel of his breath against her cheek.
Turner wasn't sure what was guiding his action but he wasn't questioning himself for once. He didn’t think as his touch lingered on the blanket covering her body or when he swiped the bangs from her forehead. She watched him through half open eyes, making him think about what she'd look like after a night spent anything but sleeping. He pictured how her hair would look fanned across the pillow and how her skin would feel as soft as he's imagined countless times.
When she made a purring sound in her half-conscious state, it sent shivers down his spine so intense, the urge to kiss her almost overpowered him.
Luckily, Watson managed to save him yet again, "I heard what you did." She said quietly, her eyes cast down, betraying the hurt she feels for him not telling her and allowing her to continue being upset with him.
"You did?" He asked again, his urge to kiss her was replaced by the sudden need to conceal himself and his insecurities. At least he didn’t have to worry about wanting to take her clothes off.
"I'm proud of you," Watson explained and Turner found that he was wrong yet again. He still wanted to take her clothes off and now he wanted to hug her too. He wanted to hold her and find a way to thank her for reigniting the desire in him to live and experience things again. Something even as small as sharing a beer and a pack of artificially flavored candy with his pretty and devoted colleague. That's what Natalie Watson did to him, made him want to live and maybe get some joy out of that life.
It was scary, completely new, and probably even a bit irresponsible, but it was more appealing than spending sleepless nights staring up at a ceiling marred by memories of his past. That part of his life was one he desperately needed to put behind him.
