Mac's still not mine (well, the human one). But if you wanna see a picture of the one that is mine take a look at my profile. (=
I just found out I'm getting CSI:NY season 3 for my b-day (in March)!! I am more excited than I ought to be....
Hope you like this one. I'm not sure I got Mac's voice right. Any helpful suggestions would be welcome.
I watch as she picks up the evidence, holding it gently in her hands, observing, thinking. Her face gives nothing away, but I know that under that mass of curls thoughts are creating their own set of spirals. I can tell by the movements she makes when she goes from being a scientist to being a woman; admiring the trinket in her hands. I see nothing special in it; it's a scarf. One of those things women have that do not serve their intended purpose (in this case warmth). Unless I miss my guess it is made of silk. The colour though catches my attention; green. It is variegated, changing from light to dark in a matter of inches then back again. There is a fringe also. Though she is wearing gloves her hand caresses the cloth, admiring the fabric. There is something in her eyes that tells me there is more to this scarf than a woman's admiration.
"Wondering if it will match your shoes?" I ask as I push the door open. "If that goes missing I'm checking your locker first." I smile as she looks at me.
"This is an expensive scarf. Thai silk, hand woven and dyed. It's beautiful. Too bad it seems to be our murder weapon."
"How do you know it's Thai silk? I don't recall seeing a tag."
"There was a family I fostered with. They were very well off. The father frequently traveled to Asia and after a trip to Thailand he came back with a scarf like this for me. Only it was purple. That family almost adopted me. I never knew why they did not. I had that scarf for years; it was the only real gift I was ever given until I left the system. One year I got six bottles of shampoo for Christmas. Nothing else. But that scarf…." She stroked the fabric again, a wistful look in her eyes. Finally she forces herself from her past and places the scarf back in the evidence bag, sealing it for posterity's sake.
Stella rarely speaks of her past. When she does it is seldom a happy tale. The way she handled that scarf and spoke of the one from her past spurred me to action. It took several weeks but finally, a small box is delivered to my office. In it are three scarves; a green one, very similar to the one in the evidence locker. Another is white and the third is slate blue. I choose the green first, taking it and a note, and placing it on her desk.
You will always belong here. And you have a family now who could not do their jobs without you. You never have to worry about being unwanted.
I leave the note unsigned. She'll know it's from me.
I know when she gets it. She comes into my office, tears in her eyes, scarf in hand. She hugs me and thanks me. I do not allow her to pull away, keeping one arm around her I reach into my pocket and pull out the slate scarf.
"You're not just special to the lab Stella. You're necessary to me. I've told you before that there is no way I could do this job with out you."
Her eyes widen and she pulls away, taking the scarf in her hands. Silk meets silk, blue meets green, eyes meet eyes. Drawing her hand to my cheek she holds the new scarf to my face; "The same colour." She whispers. I blush. I too had noticed the scarves colours matched our respective eye colour quite closely. "That was unintentional." I say, closing my own eyes at the touch.
Pressure on my lips causes me to open my eyes again. The kiss deepens. I did not expect this but am quite happy with it. I was hoping I could use the scarves as a way to tell her how I really felt. She, as she often does, seems to be thinking the same thing as I.
We finally pull apart, green and blue still connected. "Thank you." she says.
The white scarf remains in the box for some time. It might never be given, but if it is she will know for certain that she has someone who will never let her go, and that she will always belong.
Later that day I see her, both scarves entwined around her neck, appearing as one object. Her eyes find mine and she smiles.
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