by Cabe Sparrow
She glanced at his hand gently wrapped up in hers as they strolled down the busy street lined with different shops, and despite the hesitation she felt, Watson could't deny the warmth that radiated from his skin and the protection she felt from the firm but soft grip.
The inner female in her was elated as she watched the looks other women gave Turner as they walked past and on an impulse she squeezed his hand, causing him to cast a side-glance at her.
"Feeling possessive?”
His abilities could sometimes be the most irritating thing about him.
"Bite me," Watson snapped, trying to cover her blushing cheeks with a curtain of hair and a quick tilt of her head. Turner's soft chuckle in her ear as he pulled her closer reminded her that she could no more hide from him than she could fight the feelings he was evoking in her.
"Be careful what you say, because I just might."
She whipped her head around and gave him a cautionary look, but he just laughed and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek, sending goosebumps down her back. It was a familiar feeling as of late, but she still could't get used to it, no more than she could get used to the hand holding.
They stopped at the end of the block, and Turner placed his hands on her shoulder, playing with a strand of her hair.
"l have an errand to run that requires extreme discretion. Could you keep yourself busy for about ten minutes?" He glanced at his watch but Watson just raised her eyebrow at him and crossed her arms over her chest in suspicion.
"If you're about to embark on one of your..." Her voice trailed off as Turner gave her a disapproving look.
"Why must you always be in work mode? It's not good, don't you trust me?"
He gave her his best puppy dog look, his sea colored eyes softening just the right amount and his lips set in a perfect pout. It was a loaded quesiton and she was certain he realized the enormity of what he was asking, but in typical Turner fashion, it was concealed behind a front. She just rolled her eyes and shooed him away.
"Ten minutes and then I'm leaving." She gave him a stern nod and he was already taking off down the street, pulling something out of his pocket.
"You’re not going anywhere. I've got the keys."
Then he disappeared behind the corner and Watson found herself shaking her head in the middle of the street, seemingly talking to herself. She softened as soon as he was gone, thinking herself too suspicious of him, always thinking he was up to something, so she told herself to relax and wandered down the street, window shopping mostly. She was not looking for anything in particular, having picked up some things for her brothers and nephews, but one particular shop caught her eye.
It was one of the only stores on the block that didn’t have some sort of fancy display. Instead the bulk of what it was selling was in the back of the room and Watson gravitated towards it, admiring the old pieces of furniture and antique jewelry sets.
The store somehow reminded her of Turner, which lead to the question of what she could possibly give him for Christmas. She hadn't really thought about it and suddenly felt guilty, because it hadn't even entered her mind.
Just as she was thinking about him, something caught her eye in the glass display and without hesitation she motioned the man behind the counter over. She examined it for a few moments and then paid for it very quickly, knowing she didn’t want the man in question to catch her in the middle of buying his Christmas gift.
Watson thanked the clerk and walked briskly out of the store only to find Turner sitting on a bench opposite the antique shop, smiling cheekily at her.
“Impromptu purchase?"
"You could say that."
She played coy, trying to act as nonchalant as possible so he didn’t figure out what just happened. After a few moments of his penetrating stare, Watson broke the silence, "So, are you ready for the greatest eating experience of your life?"
Turner seemed to perk up considerably at the mention of food, "lead the way".
He took her hand as they walked back to the car and this time she didn’t even flinch. She let herself enjoy the feeling of being held and being led somewhere by the man at her side...
"How'd you find this place?" Turner asked as they descended a flight of poorly lit stairs. Even though it was dark, he still saw Watson's eyes sparkling as she looked over her shoulder at him.
"It's one of the only places still open at four in the morning. The entire precinct used to come here when we worked overtime; l still crave their garlic chicken sometimes."
They walked into a large room bustling with activity. The main dining area was crowded with people eating, waiters serving, and a mixture of different Asian dialects giving the restaurant a general feeling of chaos. Watson grabbed his hand and lead them to a small table off to the side. Immediately, a server came over with two menus, but Natalie just shrugged them away and gave them their order without looking at the plastic tablets.
After listing off a couple numbers, she settled back in her chair and smiled deviously at him. Turner raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. He was eager to learn more about her beyond what she was like at PPB, and a part of the reason why he drove them into Portland was in hope that he would get to know more about her past.
He knew even she was not immune to nostalgia and being on familiar turf, where she got her start. He never anticipated that Watson would be so eager, so open, dropping bits of old stories here and there as they shopped. Now she had taken him to a restaurant where she probably spent many a night joking with colleagues and blowing off steam.
His hand made it across the table and clasped hers, his thumb finding a pattern across her knuckles, the softness of her skin melting into his fingertip.
He listened as she divulged little details about her past, seemingly mundane aspects, but to Turner they meant the world. It showed that she did indeed trust him and didn’t censor or guard herself around him. Despite how long it had been since that trust had been tested, he still felt a rush every time it was confirmed that she held him in confidence of certain things no one else knew.
The server interrupted her when several dishes were placed in front of them, followed by two cups of tea. Turner looked at the assortment finding nothing strange about each plate, identifying several he'd tried before. When he looked up at Watson, she was still smiling and she pushed a smaller plate toward him.
"So Eric Turner, have you ever had this before?"
Her green eyes challenged him as she pulled out the choppsticks and he looked down at the plate, his eyebrows drawn up.
"Spicy pig ears. I'm impressed. I didn't know you were that adventurous."
"Well not even you know everything about me" She quipped back, "but we're about to find out if you're man enough to try it."
"Natalie, you know how dangerous it is to threaten a man's ability to eat weird food."
"What are you going to do about it, huh?"
The competitive air lingered around them, but instead of digging into the food; Turner moved closer and pulled her into a kiss.
She had never been comfortable with public displays of affection, but she had learned that Turner thrived on it. She figured it had something to do with his showmanship streak, but instead of tensing up like she usually did, Watson melted into the kiss, running her hand discreetly up his thigh.
Just as she sank deeper into the embrace, Turner abruptly pulled back. Expecting to see a sated grin on his face, Watson was confused when she was met with a cautioning look and no trace of a smile.
"Don't freak out." He whispered against her cheek, before scooting away from her, his face transformed into the expression Watson usually saw at crime scenes or in interrogation rooms.
"What the hell-..."
Her thought was cut off by a voice behind her.
"Natalie, Turner what a coincidence..."
She saw the beginnings of a devilish smile on Turner's face, so she gave him one last futile, pleading look before turning around to smile at the man looking at them, "Sam
, what are you doing here?"
Chapter 14
"That was so beyond unnecessary!" She muttered forcefully under her breath as soon as they stepped out into the street.
"Nonsense, it was completely necessary. It would be extremely impolite not to extend Harper an invitation to have lunch together, the food had just arrived."
The teasing intonation in his voice irritated Watson just enough for her to speed up her walk, weaving through the foot traffic. Chinatown on a Sunday afternoon was horribly busy. Passersby had little appreciation or understanding for leisurely strolls, and if she wasn't so bothered by what had just occurred, she would find it funny to watch Turner make his way through the swarm of people in an effort to catch up with her.
"You didn't have to be so cordial. It's not like Sam was particularly excited about it."
He finally caught up with her at a red light and Watson cast a look in his direction, finding him slightly out of breath. The sight softened her a bit and Turner seems to pick up on it.
"No, he didn't, but his lovely wife welcomed the opportunity, so why not."
He coaxed another involuntary smile from her, but as soon as the crosswalk light turned green, she walked away again, drifting in the crowd of people. This time, Turner strolled as pleasantly as possible, no longer as worried about Watson being actually upset with him as he was before.
Even though she was reluctant to meet his eye and had flinched away twice from his touch, her eyes were not as cold as they were when she was actually upset with him that afternoon in the jail cell and every day after that until they reconciled.
Instead, her green eyes retained their sparkle and he knew she was avoiding physical touch, because Harper's appearance reminded her that their relationship was still a secret. It was perhaps the worst kept secret in all of PPB, but a secret nonetheless; and Turner knew that she may not be ready for that to change just yet.
He caught up to her again and touched her shoulder. She didn’t flinch this time but her weary stare didn’t fade, "Come on Eric, you could't possibly make me believe that you didn't get some sick joy out of that."
Turner pretended to be shocked, placing his hand on his chest for extra emphasis, "You wound me. Why would I get any sort of pleasure out of making Harper uncomfortable by chatting up his lovely wife? Who do you think I am?"
Watson rolled her eyes, her lips twitched upward from the sheer absurdity of his comment. Turner lauged softly, "Oh, I could't help it that the man hates me and his wife now wants to trade cookie recipes with me."
"Right," Watson shook her head in exasperation, "As if Sam didn’t have a reason not to dislike you. You broke into his office and tried to steal his work files."
"It's not like I didn't ask for them first."
His voice trailed off while he shrugged innocently, and Watson let out a noise akin to a growl. Turner wanted to tell her how adorably cute she was when she was angry, but the flash of fire in her green eyes deterred him.
"Natalie…"
"Keys please." She stared him down in defiance and Turner was keenly aware that he was slightly intimidated by a woman a foot shorter than him. He didn’t have to oblige, he could have continued to tease her incessantly to wear her down. When she was just his boss and he was just her advisor, he probably would have, but now it was different.
Now that they were in a relationship, Turner realized how careful he had to be, how sometimes going against his very nature was almost as crucial to making things work between them as accepting his past would be. Although he wasn't completely certain he would ever master the latter, he relinquished the keys effortlessly, because the subsequent smile on Watson's face and her slightly more relaxed body language were worth more than his thirst for triumph.
It was a simple action, but it caught her off guard. Watson was obviously surprised by how quickly he conceded. Turner just smiled to himself, glad that he could still surprise her in a good way from time to time. The car ride was silent, but not uncomfortable. Watson stold periodic glances at Turner, knowing that he hated silence and preferred commotion and noise over perfect stillness and quietude. He didn’t even fiddle with the radio as he usually would or keep pressing various buttons to irritate whoever the unlucky driver was, usually herself. Instead, he stared out the window, a contemplative look on his face.
She wasn’t sure what he was thinking, but returned her attention to the road, the act of driving relaxed her considerably and gave her a chance to reflect on the crazy turn of events. Seeing Harper so unexpectedly at first had given her a distinct feeling of dread. His narrowed glances in her direction all the way through lunch made Watson feel like she had been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.
She really despised when Sam looks at her like that, as if he was somehow disappointed with her. Perhaps that's why she had always been so adamant about keeping her relationship with Turner out of the office, because she didn’t need those disapproving glances or anyone questioning her credibility, both as an officer of the law and as an individual.
Turner never made her feel that way. What had endeared him to her over the years, what had made her suffer through each and every one of his antics, was the simple notion that he viewed as an equal. He may not agree with her method of solving cases, and he was always against anything involving rules or boundaries, but he respected her. Up until now, she wasn't sure if he was merely giving her the impression that he thought this way of her, but ever since he worked his way into her heart, he has proven that she wasn’t just someone he could use and discard.
Today, in his own weird way, Turner proved to her that he did respect and understand her. The lunch could have been much worse. Turner could have used everything at his disposal to make the situation awkward for her. He could have made references, asked Julia inappropriate questions, made Harper as uncomfortable as ever, but he didn't. He still managed to hover more than usual and make suggestive comments that made her blush into her tea, but he still watched for any sign of true discomfort and annoyance from her, which Watson noted right away.
She also noticed Harper watching them, their every move and interaction. His critical eye did not escape her and perhaps that's what unnerved her more than Turner's precarious attitude. She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting Harper's reaction to be in regards to her relationship with Turner, but she'd never truly entertained the thought, never realized there was a possibility of them meeting unexpectedly outside work and her confronting the situation unprepared.
It's quite ironic to her actually. She's fought so hard to keep her personal life out of the workplace that she forgot her coworkers existed outside the PPB walls too. This gave Watson an uneasy feeling, but only because when confronted with the situation, her first instinct hadn't been to run away from Sam's prying eye or to shy away from Turner. Rather, it was to mediate whatever conflict would emerge between the two. However, she never even considered denying her involvement with Turner or being ashamed of it.
The thought itself made her smile, a small shiver traveling down her spine to settle deep in her belly. It seemed that Eric had slowly begun to change how she thought about certain things in her life. Although it should have terrified her that Turner was partially disabling her defenses and forcing her to face her fears, she felt exhilarated by it. The revelation caused her to let out an involuntary chuckle, jolting the reclined advisor.
"Should I assume that that adorable laugh of yours is an olive branch?"
He looked like his usual insufferable self, putting on the air of calm and cool, the corner of his mouth turned up and his blue eyes watching her with interest. She should be the responsible and mature adult, be honest about her feelings and let him know that maybe her irritation with him was a bit misplaced. Then again, seeing the know-it-all advisor stare at her in confusion was too entertaining an opportunity to pass up.
She fixed him with a stern look, green eyes narrowed at him in feigned disbelief, pretending to still be upset with him.
"O
kay, I'll take that as no", Turner declared in a somewhat defeated tone, before pouting like a child again and looking out the window. Watson smirked to herself.
Watson thought she had mentally exhausted Turner by the time they arrived back at her place, but he got out of the car with a smile and helped her with her bags without saying a word. He walked into her kitchen intent on making tea right away.
She hung up her jacket and switched on the lights, watching him as he filled her ancient kettle with water, bypassing the new electric one her aunt sent her for Christmas last year. He preferred to boil tea the old-fashioned way.
She had seen him prepare tea a dozen times, but never got tired of watching him, especially since he had become as familiar as he had with her kitchen. He took out his customary tea cup and tea packet from their respective cupboards without much thought.
Watson got so lost in admiring his movements, she didn’t even realize he was finished until he brushed past her on his way to her couch, grabbing the remote and putting his feet up on the coffee table in an almost defiant way, a clear message that he wasn’t going anywhere.
Watson rolled her eyes as he took a satisfied sip from his tea and watched her intently, wondering if her resolve had weakened. She merely gave him an exasperated sigh in return, maintaining the pretense.
"I'll be upstairs doing laundry".
Before Turner could object, she walked upstairs, reminding herself to hide the small bag from the antique store somewhere away from Turner's curious eyes.
Over an hour and two loads of laundry later, Watson realized the apartment was eerily quiet. She no longer heard the muted noise coming from the television or the occasional rustling in the kitchen. It made her slightly uneasy and suspicious, particularly because Turner had made himself incredibly scarce, not even venturing into the laundry room to see what she was up to. His unusual restraint of curiosity forced her to drop the t-shirt she was folding and padded into the hallway.
