Fic: I'll be the one (3/7)
Title: I'll be the one
Fandom: Murder Call
Characters: Tessa Vance, Steve Hayden
Prompt: 009. Months
Word Count: 1186
Rating: G (K)
Summary: Hook, line and sinker. [A series of ficlets set after "Aftermath". Based on the Deadline/Suspect novel by Jennifer Rowe.]
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters. They belong to Jennifer Rowe, Hal McElroy and Southern Star. I make no profit out of this.
I'LL BE THE ONE
PART THREE
Set several months after "Aftermath".
“I could never do something like this.”
Standing in the middle of his living room - well, chaos might be a better word for it, even if he had cleaned up a little before she arrived - Tessa had that look on. The one telling him she was taking in everything, observing every little detail, memorising them for later. Although she’d seen it all before, it set him somewhat on edge.
She turned to him with a big, honest smile. “I was terrible at Arts and Crafts. Almost set the classroom on fire once.”
“Good to know,” Steve said sardonically, busying himself with the coffee machine standing on his kitchen counter, if only to limit his exposure to her smile. “Was about to ask you if you wanted to chip in a few hours sometime.”
Tessa snorted and hugged the files in her arms a bit closer. “Wouldn’t mind, but you’d better not trust me with anything bigger than cleaning your paint brushes…or making coffee.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Finding two mugs from the cupboard, Steve set them down on his kitchen table where he’d already set up his computer and a stack of files. “You want it black today?”
“Yes, thank you.” Tessa hit him with that smile again, shifting somewhat on her feet before pulling up a kitchen chair to sit down.
Trying to appear casual, Steve turned back to the kitchen, where the coffee machine was sputtering out the black liquid. He opened the fridge and peered rather morosely at the sparse contents, glad the door shielded it from her view. He closed it and found a box of salty crackers instead, pouring them into a bowl.
If Mary Hayden had seen him, she’d probably chide him for being such an unprepared host.
As he set the bowl down in front of Tessa, he gave her an embarrassed smile, “Forgot to drop by the convenience store on my way home, but we could always order in something if you get peckish later.”
“Oh. No, no, that’s fine.” Smiling awkwardly, Tessa shook her head and waved a hand dismissively, her blonde curls shining brightly in the overhead lamp light. “I ate before I got here.”
“All right.” Shifting somewhat impotently on his feet, Steve glanced back at the coffee and realised it still had some time left before it was done. “Should we just get cracking, then? I’d rather get to bed at a reasonable hour, and I think you could stand to benefit from that as well.”
Teasing came so natural by now that he forgot himself, forgot to look away when she smiled, and was hooked by the wondrous sound of her laughter.
“No late phone calls,” Tessa promised, tapping her fingers on top of the folders in front of her. “Don’t think the DA would appreciate two sleepy detectives on the stand tomorrow, either.”
“Quite right.” Smirking, Steve sat down as well and opened the lid of his laptop. As his eyes caught sight of the writing on the topmost folder, he hesitated and threw a worried glance at Tessa, noticing she’d tensed up slightly as well. “So…you ready for this?”
Tessa inhaled and exhaled, her lips pursed for a moment. “I’ve been over this so many times with the DA already, I’ve practically got it all memorised.”
Just by the look on her face, Steve wanted to reach his hand out to comfort her. He didn’t, though, settling with the best he could offer in these circumstances - an understanding tone and a knowing look.
“You’ll be all right,” he said gently. “It’s just another court case. You’ve done plenty of them before. Just stick to the facts.”
“I know.” She flashed him another smile, a nervous one, before looking down at her folders and opening the first. A mutter passed her lips, almost inaudible. “Stick to the facts.”
Hearing her repeat his words to herself as the beginnings of a mantra, Steve smirked and busied himself with pulling up the written files on his laptop. He’d known her long enough to know some of her quirks and this was one of them. If she just got her mind on the right track, she’d stay sharp, focused, like a foxhound.
It was one of those endearing qualities of hers, although it could just as easily be a source of tension and conflict. God knows she and him, or she and Thorne, had clashed often enough over some seemingly fanciful line of inquiry.
Steve had made it his job to ground her, though. Wasn’t an easy job, but one he pursued nevertheless. After all, she was growing on him.
…More like hook, line and sinker.
Steve cleared his throat and focused on the folder in his hands, where a photo of Bradley Mumm was attached to an arrest file. “So, let’s go over this one more time…”
They did, and Steve’s hand twitched each time he heard a hesitant lull in Tessa’s recounting, each time he noticed her tense in the corner of his eye, and each time their eyes met.
Speeding down towards Adamson Avenue…police cars passing him by, lights and sirens on.
Tessa’s strange voice on the phone, and that man’s…haunting him. Pushing him. Thinking something’s wrong.
Braking too hard, grinding against the seat belt, out the door before he’d completely pulled the keys out…
Tessa sitting on the low wall, talking to the police officer, then spotting him, jumping to her feet, wired and frenzied…
Adrenaline carrying him those last few feet of distance…
Anger as she practically ran past him, ignoring his questions, jumping into his car…
Erratic theories, jumbled up, crashing with his preconceptions, his well-ordered plans…
…and finally realising she was right. They’d been fooled. All of them.
The memories came back to him easily, but they made his stomach churn. Especially as he remembered how driven she’d been, how she’d insisted on continuing the case, despite her injuries. How she’d run off after a killer while he was stuck doing CPR on Lindsey Cramer. How they’d met inside the ghost train after Marty was taken down, seen each other, seen each other’s injuries, in an entirely new light.
“You all right?” he’d asked. She’d smiled and joked, “Fine. Why do you ask?”
Right then, he’d learned how strong she could be. The thought made him smile, even now as he watched her grow steadily more confident for each time they went through the events of Bradley Mumm’s home invasion.
“I think the coffee’s ready now,” Tessa said, smiling at him, breaking him out of his thoughts.
Steve followed her line of sight, realising she was right. Again. With an embarrassed smile, he got up and collected the pot, then poured them both a mug each.
Taking the mug in her hands, Tessa hummed pleasantly as she inhaled the scent. “Mm, that’s good.” She hit him with that wide grin again. “Don’t think you’d want me making the coffee either.”
Steve chuckled, a pleasant warmth filling him from top to bottom that had nothing to do with the hot drink he sipped.
Hook, line and sinker, indeed.
PART TWO
PART FOUR
Fandom: Murder Call
Characters: Tessa Vance, Steve Hayden
Prompt: 009. Months
Word Count: 1186
Rating: G (K)
Summary: Hook, line and sinker. [A series of ficlets set after "Aftermath". Based on the Deadline/Suspect novel by Jennifer Rowe.]
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters. They belong to Jennifer Rowe, Hal McElroy and Southern Star. I make no profit out of this.
I'LL BE THE ONE
PART THREE
Set several months after "Aftermath".
“I could never do something like this.”
Standing in the middle of his living room - well, chaos might be a better word for it, even if he had cleaned up a little before she arrived - Tessa had that look on. The one telling him she was taking in everything, observing every little detail, memorising them for later. Although she’d seen it all before, it set him somewhat on edge.
She turned to him with a big, honest smile. “I was terrible at Arts and Crafts. Almost set the classroom on fire once.”
“Good to know,” Steve said sardonically, busying himself with the coffee machine standing on his kitchen counter, if only to limit his exposure to her smile. “Was about to ask you if you wanted to chip in a few hours sometime.”
Tessa snorted and hugged the files in her arms a bit closer. “Wouldn’t mind, but you’d better not trust me with anything bigger than cleaning your paint brushes…or making coffee.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Finding two mugs from the cupboard, Steve set them down on his kitchen table where he’d already set up his computer and a stack of files. “You want it black today?”
“Yes, thank you.” Tessa hit him with that smile again, shifting somewhat on her feet before pulling up a kitchen chair to sit down.
Trying to appear casual, Steve turned back to the kitchen, where the coffee machine was sputtering out the black liquid. He opened the fridge and peered rather morosely at the sparse contents, glad the door shielded it from her view. He closed it and found a box of salty crackers instead, pouring them into a bowl.
If Mary Hayden had seen him, she’d probably chide him for being such an unprepared host.
As he set the bowl down in front of Tessa, he gave her an embarrassed smile, “Forgot to drop by the convenience store on my way home, but we could always order in something if you get peckish later.”
“Oh. No, no, that’s fine.” Smiling awkwardly, Tessa shook her head and waved a hand dismissively, her blonde curls shining brightly in the overhead lamp light. “I ate before I got here.”
“All right.” Shifting somewhat impotently on his feet, Steve glanced back at the coffee and realised it still had some time left before it was done. “Should we just get cracking, then? I’d rather get to bed at a reasonable hour, and I think you could stand to benefit from that as well.”
Teasing came so natural by now that he forgot himself, forgot to look away when she smiled, and was hooked by the wondrous sound of her laughter.
“No late phone calls,” Tessa promised, tapping her fingers on top of the folders in front of her. “Don’t think the DA would appreciate two sleepy detectives on the stand tomorrow, either.”
“Quite right.” Smirking, Steve sat down as well and opened the lid of his laptop. As his eyes caught sight of the writing on the topmost folder, he hesitated and threw a worried glance at Tessa, noticing she’d tensed up slightly as well. “So…you ready for this?”
Tessa inhaled and exhaled, her lips pursed for a moment. “I’ve been over this so many times with the DA already, I’ve practically got it all memorised.”
Just by the look on her face, Steve wanted to reach his hand out to comfort her. He didn’t, though, settling with the best he could offer in these circumstances - an understanding tone and a knowing look.
“You’ll be all right,” he said gently. “It’s just another court case. You’ve done plenty of them before. Just stick to the facts.”
“I know.” She flashed him another smile, a nervous one, before looking down at her folders and opening the first. A mutter passed her lips, almost inaudible. “Stick to the facts.”
Hearing her repeat his words to herself as the beginnings of a mantra, Steve smirked and busied himself with pulling up the written files on his laptop. He’d known her long enough to know some of her quirks and this was one of them. If she just got her mind on the right track, she’d stay sharp, focused, like a foxhound.
It was one of those endearing qualities of hers, although it could just as easily be a source of tension and conflict. God knows she and him, or she and Thorne, had clashed often enough over some seemingly fanciful line of inquiry.
Steve had made it his job to ground her, though. Wasn’t an easy job, but one he pursued nevertheless. After all, she was growing on him.
…More like hook, line and sinker.
Steve cleared his throat and focused on the folder in his hands, where a photo of Bradley Mumm was attached to an arrest file. “So, let’s go over this one more time…”
They did, and Steve’s hand twitched each time he heard a hesitant lull in Tessa’s recounting, each time he noticed her tense in the corner of his eye, and each time their eyes met.
Speeding down towards Adamson Avenue…police cars passing him by, lights and sirens on.
Tessa’s strange voice on the phone, and that man’s…haunting him. Pushing him. Thinking something’s wrong.
Braking too hard, grinding against the seat belt, out the door before he’d completely pulled the keys out…
Tessa sitting on the low wall, talking to the police officer, then spotting him, jumping to her feet, wired and frenzied…
Adrenaline carrying him those last few feet of distance…
Anger as she practically ran past him, ignoring his questions, jumping into his car…
Erratic theories, jumbled up, crashing with his preconceptions, his well-ordered plans…
…and finally realising she was right. They’d been fooled. All of them.
The memories came back to him easily, but they made his stomach churn. Especially as he remembered how driven she’d been, how she’d insisted on continuing the case, despite her injuries. How she’d run off after a killer while he was stuck doing CPR on Lindsey Cramer. How they’d met inside the ghost train after Marty was taken down, seen each other, seen each other’s injuries, in an entirely new light.
“You all right?” he’d asked. She’d smiled and joked, “Fine. Why do you ask?”
Right then, he’d learned how strong she could be. The thought made him smile, even now as he watched her grow steadily more confident for each time they went through the events of Bradley Mumm’s home invasion.
“I think the coffee’s ready now,” Tessa said, smiling at him, breaking him out of his thoughts.
Steve followed her line of sight, realising she was right. Again. With an embarrassed smile, he got up and collected the pot, then poured them both a mug each.
Taking the mug in her hands, Tessa hummed pleasantly as she inhaled the scent. “Mm, that’s good.” She hit him with that wide grin again. “Don’t think you’d want me making the coffee either.”
Steve chuckled, a pleasant warmth filling him from top to bottom that had nothing to do with the hot drink he sipped.
Hook, line and sinker, indeed.
PART TWO
PART FOUR