Collaboration (closed)

[Ambrosia_64]

Leah looked much the same as she always did-black pants, loose white mens shirt, trademark boots and red lipstick. Her dark red hair was caught in its usual low ponytail over her shoulder. The only real change in attire was her jacket-she had traded the leather bomber jacket for a puffy unisex coat, “Police” stitched in over the right breast, her badge not around her neck but pinned on the unzipped coat on the opposite side. The upper arm of one of the sleeves bore the department’s yellow shield and the scales of justice. Her service weapon was visibly holstered on the front of one curved hip, rather than the usual concealed shoulder holster.

She looked like a cop. One could easily imagine her in her old uniform, back in her beat days-the leggy officer must have been a sight in it. She looked serious but assured, eyes sweeping the assembled press as she spoke. The redhead appeared to review her notes from time to time-but the papers on the podium were, in fact, random instructions to one of the department’s rolling televisions and a projector.

Leah was a fly by the seat of her pants kind of woman-she knew what she was here to say, here to do. She hated talking to the press, but you would never know it. It wasn’t that she was nervous about public speaking-far from it-she just had better things to do. Fucking Samson. On the plus side, the commissioner wouldn’t bitch about resources used on the case, for a while.

In the brighter lighting of the room and especially with the occasional flashes of cameras, the flecks of green in her eyes nearly overpowered the amber hazel of the irises-they moved from person to person, as if she were speaking to each reporter individually.

“-considering the sexuality of our victims as a factor, it is unknown at this time whether the third victim fits this profile or not, or whether these crimes were motivated as such.” Leah finished evasively but smoothly, careful not to have the case branded before it could gain attention. She saw Morgan-eyes flicking to the doctor, that nod-perfect!

“How can you be sure these crimes are related?” A male reporter asked, good timing.

“Each victim was dosed on the same cocktail of over the counter medications, a combination meant to subdue and even murder, not recreation. The three men were also found inside or directly outside of the club. We know how the perpetrator is killing, but not why, or how many more victims are possibly out there. They’re working very clean thus far.”

“How can the people protect themselves?”

“Go out in groups and use the buddy system. Someone should always know where you are going, with who, and when you expect to be back. Don’t leave your drink unattended and don’t accept open drinks from strangers. Be safe, be smart, and be cautious around new friends. Anyone with any information should call the police tip hotline.”

She answered a few more questions with her usual confident charisma and then stepped down, allowing Piquette to take over the conference with public assurances that the police were giving the crimes their full attention.

It went over rather well, though Leah didn’t get a chance to talk to the doctor and her good timing-Piquette wanted a war room meeting about Leah’s next steps and what she would need from him.

//////////////////////////////////////

The press conference was a success-the false article was dropped to the bottom of search results and the accurate information-at least what was made public-was out there. There was a nice article about the victims in one outlet, and an article about the change in the first victim's casefile-the original accidental ruling changed to homicide. The murders were covered and the dangers of clubbing were here and there-and while a few publications ran with the "gay murders" angle, most did not.

Leah had successfully navigated the case out of those waters, for now, and was herself the subject of an article or two, discussing her career and the high profile cases she had solved previously.

“That was impressively good timing, Doc.” Leah said almost as soon as she stepped through the door. “Both for the press and for my meeting with the Commissioner. He’s fully on board for now, so that’s a battle I don’t have to keep fighting. You got the report? I’ve got a quick minute to give it a look.”

 

[Tanned_babe]

The glint in Leah's eyes as she recognised the Doctor's message added to, Morgan's annoyance regarding the situation. However, what choice did she have? Everyone had heard, Sandberg's comments, 'He’ll want to do worse.' What if the police didn't correct the false media? He'd think he was untouchable. What if the police could not confirm that all cases were linked? He'd think himself untouchable. What if thought himself untouchable? He'd do it again. Only, there was the element of irrationality here. The urge. The urge that was now, most likely, uncontainable. So, yes, no choice.

Morgan's mind was brought back to the the present as a camera flashed; the Lieutenant's stellar performance was winding down, the questions getting generic. She made a move back to the exit, tearing her eye's from Leah's as they met for a moment. The Doctor neither wanted to speak to the press, nor to the Lieutenant. No, she hadn't been asked to provide inconclusive results, but she had been put in an unfair position by the red head, hadn't she?

Back in the safety of her office, Morgan peeled a post-it note from her iMac screen. 'Dinner in fridge. Don't work too late. R.' The Doctor's face softened slightly at this, her defined jaw unclenching as she shrugged off the long wooden coat. Although everything was in hand, well as much as could be, with the high profile cases, there was still bodies. Lots and lots of bodies.

Well into her thirteenth hour of work, the tall brunette stood up from peering down a microscope. It's back light giving a soft glow within her office. There was a virus claiming lives upstate; a rural area where, for the moment it seemed to be contained, however the symptoms looked very much like smallpox, hence why it had been escalated. She replaced the dehydrated sample into its case and pocketed a sheathed scalpel.

Sitting back down in her darkened office, lab coat still hanging loosely around her toned frame, she typed a brief email to, Rose asking to schedule time at the medical school for the use of TEM; an extremely strong microscope. A hint of a smile flicking across her face at last night's conversation.

Morgan hadn't really processed the lieutenant's revelation. What were the chances they'd ended up working so closely together? It would have to be reduced if these short cuts were to be expected. Expected? Who was she kidding, Morgan had made the decision to do it. Would you have done the same for another cop? "Would you hell." She murmured to herself, having gone from emailing her PA to looking up the latest news coverage. Looked good. Of course it looked good. Everything the red head touches looks bloody good! Frustrated, opened small article on Rosenberg herself. "Oh for fuck sake!" Morgan snapped, just as the door to her office opened.

"Put the light on, Lieutenant." The room came back to angular normality. She didn't meet, Leah's gaze as she rose from her chair and smoothed down the white coat before distracting herself with unplugging the microscope.
Stopping what she was doing, the Doctor produced the preliminary findings of the external examination and held it out for, Leah to take before going back to the scope.

"The tox, Doc?' Leah questioned after flipping through the document.

At this second distraction, Morgan tutted, looking up from reboxing the expensive equipment. "It's with the toxicology department. Just wait 'til tomorrow it's late!" She said tersely. "You should give that a proper review. It's interesting." By this point the scope was back in box and, Morgan proceeded to return it to the cabinet.

"I will, I will but I want to see what I've just confirmed to the press. C'mon. Where is it?"

"I don't have it!" Morgan snapped, that Scottish accent shining through yet again. "Jesus Christ, Leah." She placed the kit down harder than she should, causing a low rumble from the cabinet. Morgan rose from what she had been doing, a furrow across her pretty face. For the first time that she'd seen, the red head looked, and was, lost for words. "I don't have it because, because it doesn't exist. It doesn't exist yet. It will tomorrow." Morgan relayed her conversation with, Carla. "I mean what was I supposed to do, Leah?! Huh?" Her voice, though not loud, shook slightly. "I didn't want you to- I didn't want the case to look as much of a mess as it is." She flexed and unflexed her hand; a trait the thirty year old reserved for when she was at the end of her tether. Fuck.

 

[Ambrosia_64]

Leah read through the file, hopeful about the samples found under the man’s nails. He’d woken partially up during the attack, Morgan had mentioned. Had he managed to grasp at the killer? Hm. “The tox, Doc?” She inquired while still glossing through the report, coming to the document’s end and frowning slightly at the terse reply from the brunette, the attempt to refocus her on the preliminary report. Leah would read it more carefully later, of course-but...

Something wasn’t right here.

The detective watched the woman busy herself with the box, taking it to the cabinet and putting it away. She wouldn’t see Leah’s frown shift to a careful, somewhat curious expression as she tested the waters again, even as she suspected there wasn’t one to see. “I will, I will, but I want to see what I’ve just confirmed to the press. C’mon. Where is it?”

And then Morgan snapped, that accent slipping through and past her defenses as she shoved the kit into the cabinet, turned to face her again. Leah’s expression was blank, neutral-but her eyes were surprised as her suspicion was confirmed.

“What were you supposed to…?” She slowly repeated, the Doctor’s emotionally charged explanation coming over the top of it-about the case looking like a mess. Green flecked eyes were nearly amber in this lighting-and they blinked, the impassive mask slipping just a fraction for Leah’s surprised dismay to show through. Not disappointed, but not impressed either. Under it all, she did feel...oddly touched?

She closed the document in her hands, her eyes remaining on the dark ones of the shorter but no less lithe bodied woman in front of her. Touched, but it had cost Morgan, that much was clear in her terse, angry behavior. Leah had never intended to have the doctor do things in her chaotic, seat of her pants fashion. She was the only person in the city Leah gave any mind to, damned near.

“...because of what I said earlier?” Had the doctor felt pressured to deliver due to Leah’s parting comment about the case’s appearance to the media? Leah had pushed for shortcuts before-but Morgan had always been steadfast about protocol, procedure-there was a proper way to do things and by God the doctor would do them that way. Frustrating at times, but sensible. A frown played across her red lips and she lowered her hands, the report in her left one, the right slipping into her pocket.

She looked thoughtful, and perhaps...apologetic? “You didn’t have to do that.” Leah told her softly. “Hell, I would have lied if I thought it was that important-my hunches are always pretty good. Nothing’s blown up in my face so far-this ain’t court, I’m not under oath.” A ghost of a smile, but the charm wasn’t quite there. She was bothered by something, it seemed like.

Her eyes shifted between each of Morgan’s, studying a moment. “I’m...I’m sorry if you thought...if you felt like-look, Morgan, I get the way you want to do things. I respect the way you want to do things. I know I push for short cuts here and there, and I’m usually off taking my own divergent paths and getting my way-but here, you-” Her brows lifted, a gesture around the office, the building itself. “This is your territory, and I want you to do things the way you already do them. You’ve been invaluable so far-not just to me, but the department in general. I shouldn’t have said that, earlier. I’m sorry.” Her hand ran through her ponytail as she glanced down at the meticulous report she’d scanned through. "You do a good job." She murmured.

“I get pushy, you just keep telling me to fuck off.” Now there was that lazy, affable grin-nearly fond. “Someone around here has to try to keep me in check-they sure as hell can’t down at the precinct.”

 

[Tanned_babe]

Morgan regarded the woman before her; she was no detective, but she suspected this was rare. Rare for, Leah to cut to cocky pretence, rare for her confidence to wain, especially rare for her to apologies. It was, after all a front. People who did their job had to have one, after all. You couldn't deal with homicides, rapes, assaults and not have a defence. Their shields may be at parallels on the surface, but strip it all back and you were left with this. Two women trying to do their best, hoping that day to day they don't mess it up. It was hard.

"If you had lied about my test results I would probably have killed you." Morgan said matter of factory, no hint of humour. However, the Doctor's features softened at the genuine apology. It meant a lot that her breaking protocol was appreciated as well as her usually strict work methods.

"You do a good job too, Leah." Her dark eyes meeting those of her colleagues amber. "I don't like the way you do it, but it works out. Always." She shrugged off her lab coat, deep conversations especially those involving compliments always made her a little uncomfortable, revealing the now slightly crushed white shirt. It hugged her trim waste whilst showing a faint outline of white, possibly lace, underwear.

Hanging up the lab coat, she turned back to the red head, still serious. "It's not my job to keep you in check, Leah. If it was anyone else I wouldn't bother trying. Please don't take advantage of that."

 

[Ambrosia_64]

“Lucky you.” She said to the comment of it not being Morgan’s job. “I’ll do my best.” Leah was matching Morgan’s seriousness with her usual genial, carefree demeanor-but she felt bad. She felt more than a little bad. Dr. Vincent was just as much a workaholic as she was. Both of them defined themselves by their jobs. Lived them.

She regretted this had happened. She hoped Morgan wouldn’t dog herself too much over it, for too long. To Leah, who gave a damn about a bit of jumping ahead? But she knew the doctor did, and that’s why it bothered her, this time.

She realized she was just kind of...staring at her, absently and thoughtfully. The Doctor was something of a mystery, an enigma-and Leah had always liked puzzles. This incident was surprising. Out of character. The cold shoulder Morgan gave to the world sure had a lot of fire and bundles of emotions under it. She was remarkably intelligent, beautiful, and independent.

And a good resource, one that would not be easily replaced. You a good medical examiner more than you need a goddamned girlfriend, Rosenberg.

“We’re going to catch this guy.” She said softly, almost to herself before she stretched her arms behind her back, loosening her tense shoulders and shifting foot to foot a moment, as if all the seriousness had been too much standing still for the active, high energy woman.

“I was going to go get some breakfast once I’m off. You know, self congratulations for not murdering Samson. That would have been a very different press conference, wouldn’t it?” She said cheerfully, back to being...well, Leah.

"That way I can down a gallon of coffee before staking out the alley, tonight. I think the press conference will either scare him or stroke his ego. Leaning towards the latter-which was why I wanted to hold off on it, before Samson fucked up." Boy, she was not a fan of that guy.

 

[Tanned_babe]

She'd never admit it, but when tension needed sliced, Leah was your gal.

"I think it'll be the latter too." Morgan replied gravely, "Pretty sure of it. There's always going to be someone for this guy to target; someone's had a bad day, mental issues, the like." She sat back down at her desk, the glow from the reinvigorated screen highlighting her facial features. It seemed like their conversation had concluded, the Lieutenant opening the glass door of her stylish office. "Pick me up after you've eaten and bring me a decent coffee." Her eyes not breaking contact with the screen as she applied a digital signature to release notes. "Well, I'm not going to get any sleep waiting for it to happen, am I?" She looked around her desktop at the tall red head and had to work hard to suppress a smile upon seeing her reaction; the lightly tanned, pretty face lighting up.

Once alone, Morgan pushed the leather office chair back and stood, before unlocking another low level cabinet. Over the years she had learned that one could not keep too few clothes at the office in her line of work; dress pants, shirts, black jeans, sweaters, work out attire, under wear. The Medical Examiner didn't embellish when sometimes said weeks consisted of 'living at the office.'

The lean figure changed quickly into black skinny jeans, a pair of black Nike's and a black sweater which, again, hung loosely around her trim figure. She zipped up a black silk bomber over the ensemble and pulled on a beanie, dark hair on either side, framing her pretty face. Had she bothered checking in the mirror she'd have seen a tall figure not dissimilar to androgynous models one sees on Instagram, well one who had completed a 15 hour day.

Her phone chimed half an hour later, indicating that she should leave to office. She did so, grabbing her medical bag- the one kept at the office-,camera bag, paper work and coat.

"Here." She tossed, Leah a grocery bag which contained a couple of bags of sweets and some almonds before tossing her leather holdalls and jacket in the back of the car. Folding her lean figure into the car she quickly strapped in before, Leah repeated the previous evenings foot-down coffee-spill trick. Morgan cursed again.

"If you ever fancy it, you know, knocking him off." She said, pulling the head off a vegetarian jelly snake as they both looked out at the deserted alley. "I'll show you how to inject air behind his ear. Hair follicles will mask the needle track and it's relatively untraceable." Although the statement was said lightly, back in her hybrid Scottish-Texan-West Coast accent, one could not be sure the Doctor was joking.

 

[Ambrosia_64]

"Two gallons of coffee, then." Leah corrected with a nod, looking pleased as she left the office. Company couldn't hurt, after all...


////////////////////////////

Leah had changed too. Blue denim clung to those long legs again, disappeared into those familiar boots. She had pulled on a black turtle necked sweater-only the second womens shirt Morgan had ever seen her wear. It was conservative enough, but still made her look good, revealed her generous curves to a degree-her small waist and the flare of her hips to match her bust.

She wore a baseball cap, her hair pulled back through it in a ponytail and no jacket, both her gun and her badge clipped to the belt around her hips.

"You look like you're going on a stake out." Leah said as she caught the bag with a grin. "Or, ya know, a burglary." She traded the snacks for coffee and took off.

Stake outs were never very exciting, but it was nice to have Morgan along for the ride. Leah hadn't had a partner since she'd been promoted-not that she missed it, exactly. Specially not when she had been saddled with wet noodles the likes of Samson.

"Jesus Morgan-" She started with false, shocked dismay. "I want him to KNOW I'm killing him. I prefer something more personal, maybe hit him with my cruiser-but I'm just old fashioned like that."

She laughed, snagging a bag of almonds from the horded snacks. "Seriously though-that guy's an asshole. I get I rushed him from the scene, but look at what he did with that first one. I have no idea what he thought talking to the press was going to do-other than piss me off." Leah growled. "Stupid bastard."

 

[Tanned_babe]

"It ain't my first time at the rodeo." She replied, pleased that her effort had paid off.

"That's exactly what he wanted to do." Morgan tutted, finishing her coffee. "He's a chauvinist; if a man had pulled rank he wouldn't have batted an eyelid. That and he probably wants to, you know, get with you. He's got that failed-footballer-I-think-I-can-get-any-girl-I-want thing going on."

The Doctor manoeuvred herself, to reach into the back of the cruiser to retrieve hard copies of the release notes she had been working on in the office. As she reached in the awkward angle, the bomber jacket rode up her back, revealing the waist band of coloured lace underwear. Aware of this, she hurriedly grabbed the papers and sat back down.

"I should probably tell you this, just in light of what he did." Morgan began, pen gliding above she the page before she PPed on Randle's behalf. "And I handled it, so no need to do anything." She looked up at, Leah, giving her a warning look, dark eyes flaring slight. "So I was doing the autopsy this morning and he comes into the lab. He was in before I could stop him." She added defensively, seeing, Leah's reaction before relaying the rest of the interaction. "So, he knew he had fucked up, I hope, when he found out about the nail scrapings. Mind you, I doubt he's smart enough to put two and two together. Samson tried to brush it off with," her eyes moved from the Lieutenant, back to the paper, scrawling a stylish signature onto. Mrs Olatilewa Nosa's release not. "Said it was something we all did, that I did in the heat of the moment. Prick!" She stabbed at the paper as she doted the I in Vincent.

 

[Ambrosia_64]

Well, color her surprised-the good doctor had been on stake outs before! Leah considered this to herself as the talk went on about dip shit Samson.

Intentionally pissing her off wasn't the wisest course of action, that was for sure. The commissioner may not have wanted to go any further with discipline or even look into the leak-but Leah wasn't about to forget it anytime soon. She shook her head with a look of distaste about any sort of attraction Samson might have. Some men were just...ugh.

The redhaired policewoman was fairly good about navigating such things, remaining friendly, one of the boys-but ultimately unobtainable. She intimidated, and that worked to her favor even if it didn't always avoid turning her coworkers into drooling schoolboys. Hmph.

So it was lace under there. Leah had thought so, through her shirt earlier.

Leah.

"...do anything about what?" No promises there, depending. As Morgan began to speak Leah simply frowned, relatively unconcerned about him being in the lab-Morgan wouldn't have allowed any tampering, as it were-but unsure why the hell he WOULD have been in there. Trying to undermine her perhaps? Take the case back for...reasons?

Morgan finished, and Leah wasn't sure, briefly, how to handle that. Samson was a dick, but that didn't sound so bad. Then again, she was probably the worst judge of that sort of thing, and it had clearly pissed Morgan off, maybe made her uncomfortable. Not everyone had grown up in a sea of cops, after all. "Yeah, he is. And then he left, that was all?"

Morgan told her about practically throwing him out, his attempt to intimidate her out in the hall-and then his parting shots, the leering glance.

Okay, that was a lot worse. Leah's eyes narrowed, displeased. "I would have knocked him on his fucking ass." She growled, shaking her head and returning her eyes to the alleyway. Would have bought her another Internal Affairs interview, but would have been worth it. "If he's saying shit like that to you, who knows what the hell he's saying to the quieter women around the station." It pissed her off more that it was Morgan, though. Probably not a good road to go down, but here she was anyway. Leah popped a piece of bubble gum in her mouth, needing something for her tightened jaw to do.

"...you should file something on it, just so there's some kind of paper trail going." Leah added after a moment, reeling herself back in. She was already thinking on the subject, political maneuverings. "Even anonymously-better than than nothing. Commissioner's got a daughter. He's surprisingly progressive about some of that sort of thing."

 

[Tanned_babe]

"He's probably not saying much to the quieter woman." Morgan shrugged, scanning another document. "They don't intimidate him, do they? We do." She signed again, another body, another life, another family member gone prematurely. Claire Greer could be released to her parents for closure; a twelve year old who'd been struck in a hit and run.

For over ten years The Doctor had seen, almost daily, cold corpses lying on stainless steel tables. The waxy skin almost begging to be sliced. Think of it as the texture of cheese rind, an eccentric professor had told them in, Jeez, 2006; a poor attempt to trivialise what would be, and is, a harrowing occupation. Despite, continual attempts to trivialise death and the daily exposure to mortality, out of nowhere a body would drive the striking brunette to wake in the middle of the night; t-shirt and hair soaking in a cold sweat, bed sheets tangled around those toned legs, recalling aimless dreams of gormless faces. Claire Greer had done that. Does this happen to, Leah she thought cocking her head slightly in ponder before being brought back to the present.

"Working out has its benefits, but I doubt I could knock him on his ass. Maybe the knee in the groin, upper cut to the face thing would do it though. Again, I'd prefer something clinical- small puncture to the aeorta maybe; don't want bruised knuckles on his account."

"But seriously, if you want me to raise something I will." She turned to, Leah, giving the pretty red head a nod.

The pair fell into comfortable silence whilst the Doctor worked quickly through her paper work, glancing down the alleyway every so often, the distant sound of the Q club's music pouring out intermittently when the door opened. "I can multitask, you know." Morgan commented, breaking the silence without looking up from yet another signature. Seemingly the two other Examiners at Dr Vincent's level recognised that this fell out of their pay grade. Lucky her.

Morgan went to begin discussing the case, before reconsidering. There was still so much to be confirmed, second grade tox, particle analysis, profiling. The process felt incredibly slow, however, in reality it had only been twenty four hours since the last body was discovered. Besides that, she was shattered, tge speculation would just annoy the Doctor. "What's your deal, why the police? Just because it's in the family?" Morgan tried to ask the question casually; her ability to make small talk was lacking unless she was genuinely interested in the recipient, which in this incidence the Doctor did. "When did you join the force? You're young for a Lieutenant" She continued, Leah was easy to talk to. It was a, surprisingly, welcome change from, Morgan's usual solitude.

 

[Ambrosia_64]

"Mm?" Leah responded to the break in silence, her eyes on the alley and thinking hard about something. Her hand rested through the lower opening of the steering wheel, her fingers turning and twisting the thin gum wrapper. "Maybe the family thing, I don't know." She mused, a soft smile as she leaned back in her seat. "Long line of New York cops, I never really considered doing anything else. I knew I wanted to work homicide, be a detective. It took a hot minute to prove myself, land the detective job-but I did it. Then I up and got accidentally promoted." She considered the next question, elaborating further.

"I'd like to think I was a good beat cop. On the one hand, I wanted my father to be proud, I guess-but mostly, I wanted to be proud. To hell with it being a man's world or whatever-I was just as capable, if not more so, than anybody." She drummed her fingers on the center console, turning to look at her. "There's a lot of new, exciting sciences nowadays. But the gumshoe part of it...the circumstantial evidence that most cases live or die on-that's what I'm good at finding. That's the aspect I love. It's not just completing the puzzle-it's finding all the pieces strewn about."

"I went to college first. I volunteered with the fire department until I finished the academy, and then I was in uniform at 21." Leah told her. "I did that about two years and then got promoted to vice and narcotics after I chased down a purse snatcher seven blocks and stumbled into a heroin operation. That..." She tilted her head, remembering. "Was an interesting day. When I was 25 I finally side stepped into homicide, under Piquette-before he got voted to Commissioner. I was 27 when I got his old job. I beat out Samson and a few other veterans, but no one had hard feelings, luckily. They worked with me, knew it wasn't an affirmative action type thing. I frustrate the hell out of the Commissioner, but I've never let him down. I think he secretly likes the way I cut through the bullshit and get things done. He's a politician, but he's a cop, too. I don't think the good ones ever stop being cops."

"It's hard, and sometimes I wonder if I would have been happier staying a step lower-but I like the job, even if I neglect certain...duties of it, from time to time. I probably shouldn't be out here as much as I am, but it's where I belong, I feel like." That charming, mischievous grin. Reviews were due, her poor secretary was having a heart attack about them. Eh, what could ya do?

"And you? Medical school and all that-and then working for the city? What brought you to that? You're probably going to be running the show not too long-in an official capacity, I mean." Morgan was already doing a hell of a lot, Leah knew.

It was easy to talk to Leah. She had a pretty laugh and an easy way about her that made you want to talk, made you want to befriend her. She certainly acted like one, anyway. Made you feel welcome, at ease. Genial and charming redhead.

She'd tell Morgan a bit about college, how a lot of cops did two year degrees but she went for a bachelors in Criminal Justice, double majored in both law enforcement and corrections tracks-that her back up plan was to Warden a prison, should she ever tire of homicide investigation. She played volleyball in college and had liked fire fighting, though it was dangerous, hot, smoky work, and even harder for a woman to carve a place, though she had managed. She tried roller derby once, and was convinced a woman as tall legged as she was shouldn't ever don skates again-that that, secretly, was the only time she ever felt like a clumsy, flat footed fool. She had grown up around cops and there were still a lot of men on the force who had known her since she was a toddler, though less and less these days as they retired. She had been in several firefights and had once had a bad traffic stop that almost got her head blown off.

She lived in a small apartment in a bad part of town and didn't see much of it-or her office. She spent a lot of time on the ground in New York, following up leads and sometimes even properly filling out her reports. She worked out at the precinct gym and ran marathons when they popped up here and there, and charity 10k's with a lot of her cop buddies. She wished she had time for a cat.

Eventually the Doctor thought to grab a few hours of sleep. "Probably a good idea Doc. I'll hold down the fort." Leah said agreeably.

It was four in the morning, bars closing up when a mismatched pair of men turned down the alleyway. Leah unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the car door. "Stay in the car." She said without taking her eyes off the pair, closing the door quietly and making her way confidently towards the two, interrupting what was nearly a kiss with a shine of her flashlight.

"How's it going, fellas?"

Panicked, wide eyed gazes-and as Leah had them empty their pockets and questioned them a bit, got their licenses-it became clear they were just...regular dudes, a long term couple-one older and one younger-looking for a bit of a thrill, embarrassed. Leah felt like a jackass-they probably thought she was a homophobic hassling cop.

She wished them a good evening and would head back to the car, shaking her head in irritation. Damn.

 

[Tanned_babe]

Morgan listened to the red head. Not only did her personality make her easy to chat with; that laugh, the glint in her eyes, her ability to wear her heart on her sleeve all added to the package. But, more importantly, she was interesting. Leah had done a lot, some of it surprising; the four year degree, the firefighting. However, having processed the latter, Morgan could completely picture it. It caused a trace of smile to creep across her pretty face.


The Doctor was almost certain, Leah's promotion through the ranks was no accident; maybe on her part a bit of luck hadn't hurt, but she'd have proved herself, likely five times over. It was good it had worked out, often good people, men and women, were kept at lower levels because they were grafters, reliable, got the job done. Put them into a more political role and who is actually left to do the work?

"You're probably going to be running the show not too long-in an official capacity, I mean."

"I'm a bit, inexperienced for that, but thanks for the vote of confidence. As much as it annoys me, y’know, doing, well everything, it's all invaluable exposure. There's little official training and development because of the budget, so unless you grab what you can I think stagnating is a real risk. Having said that, I've got a good mentor in the FBI and an even better PA, stuff like that's pretty invaluable. I’ve always been tied to a budget though; academia's worse, much worse, my last job, I was still fighting for a decent scope in 2010." She shook her head in reminisce, the corner of her full lips creeping into a half smile.

"I needed a change. I'd been at UCSF for almost ten years; studied then worked, put some more letters to the name. It's morbid as hell but I like Forensic Pathology, love it actually. Medicine, hospitals." She frowned and spoke as if the words offended her, "I mean, yes they are important but now, it's all about masking the real issue.” Her accent creeping through. “People have an ache and they are given a raft of pills to numb them rather than truly addressing the issue. Ironically, the ache is more often than not a side effect of another medicine. They never feel fine, it wares on people, go through life on doped up, Doctors included."

"I did some work on why Thanatology was so important- helping us get to the true route of why people passed on, not just looking for the most recent ailment, does popping 6 aspirin every other day for most of your life really have no affect? No." The paper wasn't well received out with her peers. Pharmaceuticals were big business. "Don't go aggravating that hornet's nest." She said bitterly. "Luckily, funding came up to work alongside the City's Medical Examiner. I applied and I worked between there and the Uni for my remaining time there. I had a nice life; interesting work, loads of development, fell in with some of the PD." At this she glanced down at her lap, worrying at one of her short, neat fingernails. "Good work life balance, went on vacation, had a group of close friends. It was a lot more relaxed than this." She gestured to their surroundings. Not that, Morgan would change it, not just now, the two adrenaline packed years had flown in; crime scenes, autopsies and court appearances. It was stressful, but she loved it. However, it would be uncharacteristic for the woman to show such.

The Doctor glanced back to, Leah, diverting the conversation from the route it had taken. "Parents are still in Houston, keep thinking they will go home permanently, but they like it. God knows why." Her slender shoulders shrugged under the black sweater.

The two woman spoke for a couple of hours; swapping the odd story from their past, trading interests and hobbies. The brunette couldn't quite match the Lieutenant's openness. Nonetheless, it was nice to, well, just talk.

She shared what it was like moving from a town in Scotland to Texas. "I swear to, God, Leah you can drive from one side of Scotland to the other quicker than you can get across, Houston." The culture shock was massive she elaborated and her parents clearly felt for their quiet teenager. Taking the skinny, introverted 14 year old from her small school in a country with a decent education system to Westheimer High wasn’t a great experience. Fortunately, it didn't last long; Morgan was put into an International School through her dad's work where she befriended other expats, got good grades and embraced the counties affinity for sports. Despite, this Morgan never felt very settled; the family lived in a gated community near Sugar Lands, the segregation adding to the State's rational tension.

It wasn't until her second year of Medical school that, Morgan let go of a lot of the tension she'd carried. The nineteen year old came out, usually got the balance of socialising, hobbies and studying right and had a lot of fun. She learned that if one didn't go along with flow of what was taught, you tended to do quite well; always critically analyze, always question if something can be done better. "It was like I had cracked the code. After years of putting in a hundred and fifty percent to scrape my A’s I got it." She clicked her fingers. "Remember the paper where it all fell into place and everything."

"I miss playing sports; used to play basketball with SFPD two nights a week- woman's and mixed." Jesus, she sounded like an old woman reminiscing of days going by, not a healthy thirty year old. She elaborated on climbing, hiking and trail running, not that there was much opportunity to do that in New York, with the exception of indoor climbing, it was good, but not quite the same.

"Now, I just try to cycle to work, run a bit, yoga once a month if I’m lucky. I'd like to do the marathon, but fifteen miles is all I've ever worked up to." Morgan was fast, not as fast as she used to be when she ran track at school, but a sub 1:45 half was something to be proud of. "There's a lot to be said about that final half mile when you feel like your body can't take it. But then, that me being morbid isn't it?" She smirked.

They talked until, Morgan's eyes were heavy. Swapping other interests; the Doctor liked art and design, the idea of having the MOMA, Guggenheim and Whitney on her door step being a draw. She wanted and got a spacious traditional brown stone apartment, however wondered what the point was? She was rarely there and there were still gaps where the odd bit of furniture was required. "I wish I had time to cook, let alone have a pet." She yawned.

Leah probably hadn't even been to sleep since discovering the last body. Nevertheless, after stifling the yawn with the back of her hand, the Doctor excused her from the discussion. "Now I've bored you with my life story, I'm going to catch an hour or two. I'm in court tomorrow afternoon and those photos are unflattering at the best of times, let alone when you've been up all night."

Curled in passenger side of the car, Morgan stirred at the sound of the car door shutting. Glancing at the clock, 04:11. Stiffly she sat up and watched, Leah's tall, lean figure shift round the car and head down the alley. She'd be armed, probably with more than one weapon on her, maybe knuckles as well as two pistols? Despite this, Morgan, for some unbeknown reason opened her car door and stepped into the cool night air before closing it silently. The Doctor wasn't about to get in amongst anything, but she'd be able to react a lot quicker if there was trouble out here rather than in the vehicle. However, it was quickly evident that there was nothing to worry about and Morgan turned back around and got in the car.

"Don't beat yourself up about it." She said as her colleague got back into the car, clearly irritated. "It's no secret what's gone on here. You did the right thing."

Morgan jumped awake less than two hours later as static buzzed through the car's radio. "10-4, Rosenberg. 10-4. 23rd and 10th up on The High Line." Not too far from Stonewall. Morgan's heart sank.

She followed those evermore familiar long legs up concrete steps, taken two at a time, to reach the High Line. The High Line was a repurposed rail line which ran through the skyscrapers and apartment blocks, about twenty feet above Chelsea's street level. Rosenberg impressively vaulted over the locked gate before proceeding quickly to the proceeding. Morgan lost pace negotiating the barrier as she had two substantial bags to contend with; arriving a few moments after, Leah who was already speaking to the arriving officers.

It wasn't, Morgan's job to learn what the kid had to say, she'd hear about anything of note if required. Looking around, her senses tingling, she couldn't see a body, but given the repeated glanced from the officer towards a small area of unkempt park, partially walled by the Highline’s perimeter and peppered with ferns and Ash trees, the Doctor could guess. It was still dark but between the light from awakening apartments and the odd reclaimed street lamp the scene was baking in a low orange glow. Nonetheless, where Morgan suspected the body to be was shrouded.

Snapping on a pair of latex gloves, Morgan then switched on a small torch and took her surroundings in in more detail. One would walk off the path and into the shrubbery; to get to where the body was. There was a bit of soil on the otherwise clean path and the plants disturbed, this could just as easily have been caused by an animal that had investigated the body. The Doctor surveyed the area for another few minutes before, Leah shawn her own, more powerful, torch towards the scene, past what Morgan had been examining, highlighting a white glazed faced sitting up about 10 meters from where the women were standing. Morgan jumped noiselessly, simultaneously gripping, Leah’s forearm. It was stupid; she knew the body was there. “I’m getting to it!” She hissed in annoyance, more at herself for the fright than Leah, before letting go of the Lieutenant’s strong forearm.

Meticulously checking over the scene upon approach, Morgan could practically feel the anticipation from the Lieutenant when the two women finally reached the body. Through the torchlight the sight was chilling, male with similar victim profiling as the first two homicides, upon first glance, propped up against the wall. His face was white, with the exception of some dirt which made the congealed reddish-brown that had seeped from his neck down onto his white t-shirt all the more prominent. The t-shirt and the open denim jacket were dirty, as was his faded jeans. “Is it just me or is there less blood here than you tend to see with a slit throat?” Morgan murmured, squatting down so she was almost face to face with the body. Uncharacteristically she touched him, the Doctor, as per process usually took her photos first. Two fingers covered pressed under where the wound appeared to be. Nothing. She pressed a little harder, able to see what she was doing thanks to, Leah’s torch. A hiss and then a bubble of blood appeared from the wound less than an inch in diameter. The puncture was worryingly neat. Morgan groaned, “Looks like a punctured windpipe. Something.” She stood up to look at the red head, her eye’s almost pure amber in this light, “That I would struggle to do without nicking through the Carotid, especially in the dark, with a struggling victim.”

Maybe the killer had just got lucky. But this and the nice cocktail of legal highs; Morgan shuddered, not wanting to think of the possibility that someone educated, someone potentially in her profession was doing the exact opposite of what they should be doing. The doctor went back to her bag to begin the examination.

Sixty minutes, the scene buzzing the way a crime scene does, Morgan stepped out from the gazebo that had been erected around the body. It was still not quite light; dawn should break at around 8:27, making her job a lot easier. “Do not let anyone in there. I’m not done.” She instructed the officers standing around the immediate perimeter. “Thank you. And have you seen, Rosenberg?”

Following their direction she walked a small way down the path. “Lieutenant? A word when you’re finished.” Morgan stood, looking out at the traffic already piling up on West 23rd Street as, Leah concluded her business. “I need to keep the body in situ for another hour, maybe hour and a half. I know it’s not ideal, but I’d like to see him in daylight. He’s fully covered, as is the immediate scene so long as people are careful, I see no issue with this. Two people from my office are en route, that should mean that once day breaks we can proceed quickly. ” Morgan knew this held up things for the redhead, she could see that the information was not welcomed news. “In light of this, these,” She produced an evidence-bagged wallet, open at the victims ID. In addition to this, Leah could see he had a Mastercard and NYU Student ID. She held it whilst the red head scribbled on a pad. “And he had a club-entry wrist strap; Marie’s Crisis, which he must have left by 3am, probably earlier, as I estimate time of death to be earliest 3:30”

 

[Ambrosia_64]

Leah's eyes snapped to the radio, her expression that impassive mask-but those eyes slightly narrowed as she picked up the square radio and depressed the button. "This is Rosenberg-enroute."

Could be unrelated. She sped with lights AND sirens, this time-her jaw tight. A lot of murders happened in New York. Didn't necessarily have to be related. But her gut told her it was. He'd moved on, was spurred by the press conference. She tried not to screech to a stop given Morgan in the passenger seat-but still managed a jerking stop. She was out of the car and moved at a fast clip, the two women making their way rather grimly to the scene.

She fired questions at the two responding officers almost faster than they could answer them, shooting a glance to an older man with a little dog on a leash. He was next on her list-but Morgan had moved off the trail, and Leah frowned a little. "Get more tape up. Wall off the entire fucking park." Every trash can, public restroom, fucking tree-she'd have men canvassing the entire place.

And she hadn't even seen the body, had no idea if it was related or not. But something in her knew.

Off the path and there was the doctor, Leah switching on her maglight to sweep the scene-catching the waxen face of the man, startling the other woman-and making Leah's gun arm twitch, more than a little tense. Her eyes shifted to Morgan, very aware of that grip on her arm for a moment before she let go. "I’m sure you were." Leah said-but there wasn't any of her usual amusement, despite meaning the words as a joke. What, had she expected the killer to still be here, crouching behind a bush or something? Fuck, maybe she was just tired. Maybe the possibility of a murder in direct response to her press conference set her on edge.

Her eyes narrowed on the body, the slash across the throat. Maybe it wasn't related, after all. It was...a surprisingly clean slash, not the jagged, ugly mark she'd seen in previous throat cuttings. It wasn't ear to ear, either. Had it been done from the front? And why wasn't the entire front of him soaked with blood?

She turned slightly, catching the reflection of a ziploc bag hanging from a lower branch, clipped there with a clothespin. A glass bottle with a rubber stopper, a powdered mixture within-traces of it in the bag itself. Leah didn't touch it-she wasn't wearing gloves. A superglue fuming might reveal fingerprints-hopefully. "It's less ugly than any I've seen, too." Leah confirmed, scowling as she turned away from the bag, sweeping the light along the ground. There was a pantsless Ken doll, of all things, tossed into the ferns. Someone else might have dismissed it as trash-but as she stepped up to it, the doll looked clean. New. Could have been lost earlier today maybe, some kid.

Maybe.

"Our perp is probably in his mid thirties to late forties...educated. A doctor wouldn't be out of the realm of possibility. I originally thought a pharmacist or something, but-" Flashlight back on the slit throat. "Maybe he wasn't struggling. Maybe he was drugged too." She nodded to the ziploc bag, shining her light on it again. A frown.

"...this is a message." Leah murmured. "He abandons the alleyway, and the drugs...it's a taunt." She shook her head, moving to leave. "I'll let you work Doc. I know you'll treat our boy right." A regretful glance to the victim, then she walked away, a gesture for a uniformed cop to stand guard not far away.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
Leah was on the phone, giving the rudimentary details to Piquette. He wasn't sure the cases were linked, but Leah's scoff shut that down fairly quickly. She promised to properly debrief him once she had more details and hung up.

"Hour and a half?" Leah repeated distractedly, already dialing another number and looking tired. The park was already swarming with cops canvassing for evidence. She was standing at the back of an open SUV, ziplocked bags of logged evidence on a table to her left. The Ken doll and the glass bottle the most prominent, a pair of broken glasses and change in two other bags. Leah was taking no chances-each coin was in it's own bag. Her eyes slid to Morgan's dark ones, frowning-the brightening, reddish pink sky seemed to draw out those flecks of green in the lieutenant's hazel irises.

"If that's what you need, it's what you need." She finally answered with a long exhale. No, it wasn't good news. But she didn't want to give the doctor any shit, especially not after the blow up earlier. Leah didn't apologize without atonement. She would have to remember to be a little careful, keep her money where her mouth was.

Eyes taking in the presented evidence with a nod, setting the battered flip phone down and reaching for her notepad, scribbling away tiredly. "Marie's Crisis." She repeated. Probably closed down and empty at this point. She'd hunt down the owner's number and see about setting up interviews before it opened tonight-where she would also end up, scoping the joint.

"Thanks Doc. I'll catch you later." She finished with a nod, picking the phone back up and hitting the call button.
///////////////////////////////////////
The emergency meeting and debriefing was Leah’s last stop before she could finally catch a bit of sleep, the redhead’s usual energy slightly more manic seeming when she was worn down but thinking hard and fast about the details.

She presented what they knew and a few of her suspicions. She was assigning men to interview damn near everyone they knew had been in the club the night before-credit card receipts. “At this point, I’m prepared to have a few of you gussy up and scope out nightclubs, trolling for this guy.”

Leah’s men seemed capable enough, took the murders seriously if nothing else. Her detectives assigned to the task force were almost all men, though there was a single, blonde haired woman in her forties on her team. A hard nosed cop with a resting face that would intimidate most.

Leah had also wrangled a criminal profiler for the task force, Dr. Taylor Hall.

Concluding her portion of things, Detective Marshall asked a question about the Ken doll, if it was really related, and what the hell it might mean.

Leah’s eyes flickered to the crime scene photos, a frown.

“This murder was in direct response to the press conference. He’s abandoned the drugs and the alleyway, the club where he’s gotten three victims so far, is changing his M.O. The doll is a message. It’s intentional-he bought it and carried the damned thing to where he left the body, a would be romantic walk turned ugly. Which speaks to maybe a long coat of some kind, concealment.”

She picked up the photograph of the blond haired doll. “Unofficial opinion? He’s taunting us. If we’re lucky-and some poor bastard isn’t-he’s already picked out his next victim, is telling us they’re blond. More likely, he’ll choose his next victim to match the doll. This could be his signature, now that he’s abandoned the characteristics labeled in the press. It shows his ego, his arrogance-and that is how we will catch him.”

Morgan went through her bit, then Dr. Hall, and finally Leah stood from her seat, not retaking the podium but giving a severe glance around the room. “It shouldn’t need to be said but-do NOT discuss this case with anyone not in this room. And DON’T do it in earshot of anyone, either. We need to keep this close to the vest. This bastard is watching and waiting to see what we do. I don’t want to be forced to take what could be the wrong action. Got it?”

People filed out, and Leah stopped two of her more trusted detectives. “Listen-” She said in a lowered tone. “Any of the guys-or hell, women-who match our profile and don’t want to talk-you arrest them for fucking something, got it? Charming doctors or professionals in particular.” Serious confirming nods, and then the room was empty, Leah gathering up the photos into their file.

Once NASA had finished with the video footage, she planned to go over the stills with a fine tooth comb, hoped to find a matching set of faces. She'd see.

 

[Tanned_babe]

November bolted into December; two more bodies, two more drugged, murdered and raped men, had crossed Morgan’s autopsy table. A blonde rower, a week after the High Line murder and an African-American Ph.D. candidate ten days after that. The media were covering the story, no doubt about it, but what was released was a concise and constant message; not the chaos which had ensued several weeks ago. However, Morgan doubted this was why the killer had only struck twice in the past two and a half weeks. There just wasn’t the opportunities there had been; policing of uniformed and non-uniformed officers had increased in LGBT areas of the city and men were becoming increasingly careful.

Not as careful as the killer though, Morgan thought, whilst the Detective delivered the daily brief in Leah’s absence. These cross-departmental morning meetings had run since the High Line Murder and had really helped in creating a close-knit team.

“Doc, you’re up.”

Morgan moved, from leaning against a warm radiator close a snow peppered window. It had snowed on and off for four days now. Snow was good, less people were murdered in the snow, snow, when it lasted preserved evidence; footprints, blood splatter, fibers. When it melted though, game over.

She was dressed in skinny black jeans with a white unfitted t-shirt tucked in, covered in an oversized dark green cardigan. It was obvious, to those who knew her – Leah, she’d attended the scene in the wee hours and been awake since. It was the second night in a row; one colleague was sick and another already commenced Christmas vacation. She was tired and a bit down, but put the game face on as always.

“So, quick recap as I’ve not made this meeting for a few days. Apologies. We’ve seen from the tox results of deaths three, four and five that the killer is giving the victims reduced doses each time. Thus, it’s not the drugs that are killing them, its him or her. However, last victim, it was back death via an overdose. Now, speaking to Dr Sandberg, she thinks this ten days between killings pushed the perpetrator to the edge. I can see this as a real possibility because we haven’t actually confirmed this victim’s sexuality. No one knew he was gay, bi, whatever if he was. This of course isn’t conclusive, but maybe he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. There’s still a very real chance he knew the killer. All victims are in similar social circles; educated, middle class.

“Four grade tox have also confirmed that these substances are all extremely clean, indicating that they are sourced reputably, not some dodgy legal high online out let. So, as Lieutenant Rosenberg says, medical professional or student remains what my forensic information is pointing alluding to. Whatever the case, this person is smart; you’ve all got the profiling document which suggests a small chance that he/she is a completely self-taught, introvert.” Morgan ran a hand through her hair. She was covering old ground, her brain without its usual sharpened accuracy.

“We have the cast of the foot prints left in the snow; victim a size 10 and there are accompanying tracks which are an 11; tread matched a Doc Marten 1460 Classic, interestingly worn by victim number 2.”

“Lastly, I’m aware that Lieutenant Rosenberg, requested that records are checked of city Surgeries, Hospitals, Universities, Research labs for cases of discrimination, sexual harassment or contract terminations. If you want to cross check your list of establishments my office will assist as well as getting access to records if you have any challenges.”

She wrapped up her segment and left the room as the Detective in charge began barking orders at his officers, her mind already on the autopsy that would take up her morning.

At two o’clock to the same day Dr Vincent sat, drumming her neat finger nails on the conference table’s polished surface. The MOR, aka the monthly operational review, aka four hours of, Dr Vincent’s life she never got back. She hated them and every month she planned to show as much by presenting something thrown together in 5 minutes, the amount of time the fiery brunette thought the affair was worth. Alas, every month, Morgan’s slides where amongst the most informative, whilst remaining concise. Fucking perfectionist.

“Recent focus has been on our LGBT victims, we have nothing less than a serial killer in our midst, however, no one needs an intro to this case.” She went on to describe the steps put into place for the Medical Examiner’s Office to assist with the case, which had seen the increasingly brutal murder of gay men in Manhattan. “This investigation is lead up by Lieutenant Rosenberg, heavily supported by myself through my own expertise and ensuring we here do everything we can to assist.” She nodded to the department heads around the table who were supporting. “Its high profile for a number of reasons; the killer’s profile, the victims’ and there’s already been one false leak to the media who are growing increasingly impatient. I’ve been advised that this will get negative soon.”

“We know all this, Morgan. Stick to the slide template, please.” Randal drawled, scanning another report.

The thirty year old bristled. “With all due respect, Sir, this is a review of my activities. Cases like this don’t tend to fit into a template.” She dismissively waved her hand at the screen, her annoyance clear. It was supposed to contain statistics; number of bodies processed, time taken, days the examiner had spent in court.

He looked up from the report, removing his glasses to clearly display tired crystal blue eyes. “The gay bashing. Are we adequately resourced?”

Morgan’s eye’s narrowed a fraction. Questions such as this seemed welcome; do you need more bodies, more equipment, more lab space. However, there could always be some hidden message. “Define resourced, Sir.”

He was getting impatient. “Resources, Doctor. I don’t need a media frenzy on this. I’m still trying to convince Piquette to do something about the, Officer who leaked the information.”

“It was a detective, Sir.” She corrected tightly, unable to stop herself. Six fucking bodies and all he cared about was the press. She continued before he could flare his temper. “I believe we have everything we need; everyone has really banded together. Having said that, we have PAs, lab assistants, analysts, less elevated positions working all hours of the night as required. Some financial recognition wouldn’t go a miss.” Morgan continued over him as he began to protest. “There’s enough for a couple of thousand dollars each; it’s from our agreement with NYU to use equipment, they conducted unforecast maintenance and it impacted its availability. It’s better than admitting to over budgeting.”

“Fine, Vincent. Fine. Speak to Dover.” The Senior Medical Examiner said tersely, referring to the Head of Finance who was sitting across the table from the brunette, looking thoroughly pissed off. It would be the last time he boasted of how good his books looked. “What’s next?”

“Christmas party!” Smiled Rose, who had stepped in to take the minutes because Randle’s PA was ill.

At this, Morgan and Randle groaned simultaneously and she swore the side of his mouth curled into a smirk as his eyes flitted in her direction momentarily.

“I don’t think you need me for this.” Morgan said, her lean figure rising from the table. “I’ll-“

“You’ll sit down!” Rose snapped with some authority, causing the Examiner to falter before sitting back down on the leather swivel chair; a look of bemusement shared around the room.

“The Christmas Party,” She began again. “As you all know, we’ve booked, Daniel’s for a private meal, 5pm.” This was all news to, Morgan. “We’re just waiting to confirm who’s on du-“

“I’ll do it.” Morgan shrugged, trying to keep casual, but secretly rather desperate to avoid an evening of forced company. She was promptly shot down by her PA once more. She’d not be getting her extra two grand is she wasn’t careful. “I don’t mind, what if-“

“You were on call last year, Doctor Vincent and Doctor Philips,” She gestured to the older man sitting to Morgan’s far right hand side. “Is getting a flight home on the 23rd and wants to be fresh for that.”

“All booked, Rose.” He smiled, referring to being too old for the Christmas party.

“Well, that’s settled then” She smiled primly. “We’re having dinner at, Daniel’s a week on Friday and then we’ve been invited to the Hilton, the Midtown one, where some of the PD, the homicide department, I think, are having their Christmas Party.” Every cloud, thought, Morgan, raising a perfectly waxed eyebrow.

 

[Ambrosia_64]

Leah burst into the small alcove of her secretary's office, rushing into her own without so much as a 'hello' to the startled young man.

He heard her rustling around in there, cursing-and slowly rose to poke his head in.

"What the hell did you-where's those photos?" Leah grumbled, searching through the drawers of her desk, gesturing angrily to the top of it-which had been neatly organized, no longer a pile of overdue paperwork and file folders.

"Photos?"

"Yes, they were in a folder right here-" Leah gestured to one corner of the desk. "You've ruined my entire system, I told you not to touch anything in here too much-" She groused, not angry exactly, just annoyed.

"Uh, Lieutenant, I had to find the Sanderson paperwork, and...I thought I could organize a little."
"I was organized! Now everything's a mess, you're fired-" This was the twentieth time she had 'fired' him. The words no longer had the frightening impact they used to, not after two years.

"Were these the NASA stills?"

"Yes-"

The young man cautiously entered the office, pulling open one of the many filing cabinets and running his fingers through the roughly dated folders. "It was too messy to make much sense, so I went with vaguely chronological order. Here."

He handed them to her and she flopped them onto her desk, spreading them out and looking for a specific one. "Ah-" She snatched it up and rushed out just as quickly as she'd come in.

...Matthew just shook his head and gathered them back up. Guess he was still in the job.
////////////////////////////////////////
"We got him, but we don't got him. Pretty sure, anyway." Leah was saying into her beat up flip phone to someone, moving through the bustling precinct a bundle of files under her other arm-work she was taking home, per usual.

She caught sight of a pretty tall brunette leaving ahead of her, thought a moment-then quickened her pace with a "I'll get you some copies. We find perp and the hat, that's a good bit of jury pleasing evidence right there. Listen, I'm getting another call Piquette, I'll update you when I have something better to show you."

She snapped the phone closed just as she hit the doors, started down the stone steps. "Hey Doc!" She finished the stairs two at a time, coming to a stop next to Morgan, one of those easy grins. "You heading home, or to the office? I was going to go for a run...got a few new puzzle pieces to our big case...you wanna come with?"

Later, the two women were out for a run, making a nice, graceful pair of running partners.

Leah wore dark blue mesh tennis shoes with neon yellow laces and black, loose men's basketball shorts despite the temperature. They fell to just above the knee, the rest of her toned legs exposed and every bit as gorgeous as any pervert would have imagined. A zip up blue athletic jacket hugged her curves and the sporty look was completed with a rare high ponytail for all that red hair.

She looked good, but unintentionally good.

Leah was in a good mood, matching Morgan's set pace, her stride powerful as well as graceful, fit and in shape enough to talk.

"So I've got two stills from the video recordings of the same broad shouldered man in the same white hat-it's for a marathon they run every year upstate, but the hat's been given out every year for the past decade. So, I've just gotten the registered applicants pulled for that, but it's a massive list. I'm hoping to look into doctors as a start, we'll see what I can do with it. If I'm lucky, he runs it every year. Less lucky, he did it once five years ago and good luck to me. I'm spinning my wheels with what little we've got, so far. But he's bound to make a mistake here soon."

As the miles wore on, her straight postured stance shifted slightly, less movement to her right arm. She continued to run through it, but it was becoming more and more noticeable even as she talked through it.

"I hear your department is finishing the annual Christmas party at the Hilton-it's a nice place for it. I go every year, luckily I don't have to plan the damned thing, just show up, maybe get blasted on free bourbon."

A deeper intake of air, slowing up a bit. God damn-stupid fucking shoulder. "You going to go? It's always a pretty good time, drinking or not."

 

[Tanned_babe]

"Evening." As, Leah bounced up beside her as she broke out the Precinct and into the almost freezing night. "I'm going to the office and I don't have any winter gear.' It was all she had with her was a pair of short running shorts. Her protest seeming ignored with the Lieutenant's subsequent offer to run her to the station before they set out.

What you going to do otherwise, Vincent? She thought to herself, now back in the office, moving towards the cabinet in which she kept personal items. Sit here for three hours and then go home, sleep, repeat?

Hoping security didn't walk past her office, Morgan changed quickly out her day clothes and into a pair of dark purple woman's running shorts, a Lycra long sleeved top and a stylish black Adidas sweater which alluded to her trim figure. Her Brookes Adreneline were dark with flecks of neon green and approaching the end of their life, however they were so goddam comfortable.

She shivered as they started warming up, jogging towards 6th Avenue. Both women working in the central Manhattan, Morgan's offices being a stones through from Time Square, which always perplexed her. All there revellers, tourists, oblivious to the face The Office of the Medical Examiner's basement could story over 80 bodies. "Of all nights you thought this one was a good idea." She said in disbelief, stretching her exposed quads. They looked good, her legs, long, lean, lightly tanned, far too much of them on display of an evening such as this. However, the Medical Examiner could complain all she wanted, this was exactly what she needed after a long day.

The two women fell easily into work chat on the approach to Central Park, the photos spurring on new dialogue. "That hat's circumstantial, Lieutenant." Trying to calm, Leah's excitement. "We can't just arrest someone because they ran the marathon. In fact, he's so smart, it's probably a herring. That said, I'm confident we have his DNA, so that, plus the hat." She shrugged, "Throw in a Ken doll collection and the case is solved." Morgan added dryly. The case was draining, all this time, effort resources and for what. Not one potential suspect in almost five bloody months. She was ever reminded of how long they'd spent on it now Christmas was just around the corner, this particularly evident as they passed the Bryant Part Christmas Market. She should make the time to visit it. "Cross checking the list with your list of potential disciplinaries, layoffs, would be good."

Her pretty face unfurrowed, "Let's do a loop of the Park and include a couple detours too. Aim for 10 miles?"

"Time you aiming for? I'd like to keep an 8 minute mile pace, but if you can't keep up with that I understand." The corner of, Morgan's mouth curved slightly as as she jogged on the spot, awaiting for the W 59th lights to change. The Doctor stole a glance at her colleague; she suited the high ponytail, it seemed to add to her plucky personality.

They moved quickly, overtaking other's out following the same pursuit and passing couple cuddled watching on street entertainment. Apart from any kind of target, they needed to keep warm. Breath fogged the air as they exchanged snippets of conversation, mainly referring to the direction they should take next.

As they approached the reservoir, Morgan noticed her companion's change of gait. Both women had been drifting elegantly, covering a lot of ground quickly as the muscles of their toned legs flexed beneath them. Now, the redhead had shifted form, carrying herself differently and lost slight pace as a result. The Doctor, of course had clocked this and subtly glanced at, Leah trying to figure out what was wrong.

They reached a street light, few and far between on the west side of the huge expanse of water, Leah asking about about the Christmas party. Taking this as an opportunity to avoid the question, Morgan pulled up. She looked nice in this light, dark eyes sparking, combined with the glow the running endorphins had bestowed. Wiping her brown, she paused her watch- 5 miles in 42 minutes. That was OK.

"What's wrong?" She frowned gesturing to, Leah who was holding her arm. The Lieutenant brushed it off, her breath fogging the air as she did so before circling the arm in jerking motions, clearly frustrated. "Hey!" Morgan stepped forward and grabbed, Leah's forearm, stopping the erratic movement. "Whatever it is that's not going to help." She said matter of factory, whilst being acutely aware of how closely they were standing, not just standing, touching and just how striking the redhead was. She shook the inappropriate comments from her mind. "What's wrong? You remember why you refer to me as 'Doc'? This is kinda my thing." She, was still, now unnecessary, gently holding the Lieutenant's arm.

 

[Tanned_babe]

The Lieutenant described an old in jury, just above the left shoulder blade. The pretty Doctor listened, "You'll have a build up of toxins, lactic acid, around the old injury. It can be worked out, loosen things up." The slightly shorter woman asked the red her to turn round and ran her hands over the area, Leah had described. She was strong, toned and even the slight nod of, Leah's head indicating, Morgan to move to the left, made her muscles flex. "Here?" Once, Leah confirmed, Morgan pushed her fingers, gently at first, into the muscles, slowly increasing g the pressure until she felt the tension start to break up but it was difficult to get purchase with the jacket's material shielding the skin. "Sorry." She smirked as, Leah winced. "Must have been some knock. What did you do?"

Morgan's fingers froze momentarily, "Erm, take your jacket off. If you don't mind. I don't want to work to he point of enter too hard."
Exposing her wounded shoulder, Morgan's fingers were back on, Leah instantly. It was cold, the last thing her shoulder needed was to stiffen further. Nonetheless, this didn't stop the Doctor unnecessarily tracing her fingers softly over the defected skin before going back to massaging area, feeling the solidified toxins yield under the pressure.

"Lean back into me." Morgan instructed, allowing her to crack a particularly stubborn spot. "Good." She said, satisfied, placing her right palm over the wound and taking Leah's arm in her left, rotating it and feeling for a freer movement. "There, that should make a difference."

Morgan started moving on the spot, really one would have expected the body to cool down given the almost subzero conditions, but after their interaction the Doctor felt anything but cold. " You really should get a physio to take a look at, but we both know you're not going to do that. So, remind me and I'll do you again, if you like?"

Morgan recognised both what she said and the mischievous look on, Leah's face. "Don't even." She smirked and trotted off.

 

[Ambrosia_64]

“It’s all about the puzzle pieces at the end-so the D.A. can show the jury the complete picture. So much evidence is circumstantial, even in this day and age.” Leah said with a nod. They did have potential DNA evidence, too.

“Eh, I’m open to-hey!” Leah cut a side glance, her eyes narrowed but a quirked smile on her lips. “I could probably run circles around you, Doc!” Teasing. Not true either-Morgan was fit and had a beautiful stride. Leah figured she might have more initial bursting speed, a bit more power-but the doctor could probably outlast her. Which said something, given her own physical conditioning and energy.

The slim brunette made for a pretty running partner.

Leah.

An unapologetic grin in response to the self chastisement curved her lips.

Forty minutes later, she was having a bit less fun, losing her self amusement for a bit of self frustration. “Nothing.” Leah grumbled in response to the question, trying to work out the arm now that they were stopped-Morgan stepping forward to catch her forearm. She wasn’t startled by a ghostly face though, this time. Their proximity and the way the streetlamp lit the dark eyes of the other woman-well, it occurred to Leah she was giving and less and less of a damn about keeping work and home life separate-not that they were in the first place, really. She was plenty practical, but she sure didn’t care about decorum worth anything.

“I’m just being a wimp Morgan, really.” Leah again tried to deflect, then gave up almost in the same breath. “Old shoulder injury. Acts up sometimes.” Leah made for a terrible patient, in general-but she turned around with an impatient, reluctant sigh-though having Morgan run her hand over her upper back more than made up for it.

The rest of her stiffened, a flicker of a wince before her face formed that impassive mask again-the set of her jaw the only sign of discomfort. “It’s fine.” She said, a glance over her shoulder at the slightly shorter woman. In tennis shoes, their height difference was more honest now-Leah only had a few inches on her.

“Got shot.” She said, an amused smile when Morgan froze-then she turned her head forward again, unzipping the jacket to draw it off one of her arms and shoulder, peeling it the rest of the way to hold it backwards on, help with the cold. She was wearing a racer backed tank that compressed her chest somewhat, made for better running. Black bra straps. “I told you how I got promoted to Vice-I chased a purse snatcher and found myself making a drug bust in a distributor’s warehouse. What I didn’t say was how the place lit the fuck up the instant I followed him in. That, was my first big firefight. I was held down by gunfire, got off a few shots in lulls when they tried to get closer to me-and once some help arrived, got myself shot changing cover. Still held out for a bit though, even though it hurt like hell.”

If Morgan ever cared to look up the story about the beat cop stumbling into a large drug operation and blowing it open, she’d learn Leah had been awarded a medal for her actions. She had continued returning fire even after being shot-helping to keep the first responding officers from becoming mincemeat before bigger guns finally arrived. Of course, there was some talk about the risky nature of her entering the warehouse in the first place, but overall-media response was positive.

The cocky cop was getting goosebumps, and not from cold. Hell, if anything-she was warm. Entirely too warm. Like maybe she should turn around and make things warmer.

“So, remind me and I'll do you again, if you like?"

“Well if the lady insists-” Leah started, turning with a decidedly troublemaking grin-before laughing and following after, re zipping the jacket with a sharp upward draw, considering the woman just a few paces before her a moment.

“Anyway, thanks. Feels a lot better.” She closed the distance and matched pace again, a curious glance. “You are going to go right? Or did you volunteer to take shift? I mean, even good doctors need holidays...right?”

If Morgan was working, Leah resolved to turn up with wine at the end of her shift. Then again-maybe the doctor was heading home to Texas, who knew?

 

[Tanned_babe]

"I'm serious though, you need to get it worked over regularly." Her tone serious, but as she glanced to the, Lieutenant the brunette couldn't help but smile, a real one, one that met those dark eyes and lit up her pretty face. She looked away, reining herself in. What was she doing? Flirting? The Doctor didn't flirt; not anymore. Clearing her throat, Morgan succumbed to Leah's second attempt to find out about the party, "I tried to be on duty, but for whatever reason my PA is hell bent on my attending. Think she thinks she's doing me a favour." Morgan tried to say bitterly, but the soft spot she had for the older woman was growing; her organisation, her thoughtfulness and above all her ability to pull, Morgan into line. "We are going for a nice meal, the Medical Examiners Office then, yeah we've been invited to yours? Is it not going to just be a bunch of wasted cops?" They were approaching a hill and soon Morgan could feel the pressure building in calve muscles as they tried to maintain their pace.

"Shit." She panted, the incline finally levelling. Leah, reassured her it would be a good night, the Christmas party. "I mean, I'll be off, for sure. I tried not to be, but I am. You're going, yeah? I won't know anyone otherwise." This was completely untrue of course, she knew plenty of NYPD, but those who she wanted to spend time with were few and far between.

When, Leah reassured her, Morgan conceded. "Fine." She shrugged, breathe evening as they approached the fountain where a choir of carollers were chanting, 'Auld Lange Sign'. Her heart suddenly pinged for home, her true home; the families Sandstone villa in Glasgow's West End, not this gated community in Houston. "I think I'm off that entire weekend; I need it. I'm on call over Christmas and New Year, which is a sure fire. What you working?"

As Leah told her, Morgan shared that her parents, were grudgingly coming to NYC. "I've promised them a trip South in February, which really means April. It's hard, being the only kid, especially when my mother's not got a lot going on." Her breathe fogged the night air as they headed to the Park's exit. "Dad's fine, still traveling with work, gets what I do, but her. She's something else. What you doing for Christmas?" As much as a call out, where Dr Vincent's job was concerned meant death, it wouldn't be so bad seeing, Rosenberg over the festive period...

 

[Ambrosia_64]

That smile made her heart flip. The way it lit her eyes, opened her face up like that-hot damn. Leah knew she was pretty, but…

Now she wanted more of those smiles. It was just a matter of being sly enough to get them. And Leah was pretty damned sly. Being too brassy with Morgan wouldn’t work, but there was only so much of herself she could rein in. “Or, maybe she’s doing me one.” Leah said in that genial, easy, warm way of hers, a laugh.

“Well, I’m sure there’ll be SOME wasted cops, but-” Powerful pushes up along the incline, her ponytail swinging as she trekked up alongside the doctor-though if she had been thinking clearer, she probably should have fallen back a step or two… God, she was incorrigible.

Dr. Vincent’s a lady, not a piece of tail. Behave yourself.

The incline leveled out and thank God for it. Her legs had gotten a little leaded there, a minute. “I’ll be there, and I know everyone-so it’ll even out.”

Carolers. This was part of why New York was great-full of life, people. Leah was working similarly, but made a joke about sneaking into her office to work on paperwork so no one could see her and think she’d make a habit of it. She listened to the talk about her parents, considering the information, the attempt to placate the elder Ms. Vincent. Leah wondered if that was where the stubborn streak came from. If so, she imagined there was some butting heads here and there.

“Probably drinking with Pop and watching old westerns. Maybe we’ll burn a roast or something, if we’re feeling fancy-before we break down and order pizza.” It sounded both like a joke and not a joke-but fond. Leah was a daddy’s girl, it seemed. Not very surprising-and he’d been a cop, too, she had said.

“It’s just me and him-we usually just do gag gifts. Last year it was this ugly swan head scarf thing-it was hilarious."

 

[Tanned_babe]

Just her and her Father, Morgan reflected. She didn't pry, but wondered what the situation was there. Regardless, the Doctor could imagine the two cops making a cute pair. No prizes for guessing where the Lieutenant got her sense of humour.

"I'm looking forward to a quiet family Christmas, actually. And it'll be nice for them to see the apartment, good for mum not to have family decent on them and expect to be looked after for two weeks too." The brunette reflected how different, on the surface the Rosenberg and Vincent Christmases would be, but it boiled down to two little units, celebrating with their daughters. "There's worse ways to spend an evening." Referring to Leah's plans.

The Doctor's watch reminded them they only had one mile to go. "C'mon. We are at mile nine and the fact we are chatting away clearly shows we've got some fuel left in the tank." Morgan's long legs worked her, calf muscles flexing as the two women picked up the pace. Leah edged ahead of, Morgan and Morgan in front of, Leah but not before she gave the redhead an appreciative once over; strong women, both from a physical and mental perspective turned the Doctor on and the woman in front of her was all that. Those toned legs, perfect backside, the curve of her trim waist. Morgan had to give herself a shake, not only was that completely inappropriate and out of character, but she fallen behind.

The pair raced until being spat from the park out onto 59th again, where they pulled up and jogged back toward's Morgan's office, chests heaving and flushed from the final exertion. "We are pretty well matched, Lieutenant." Morgan commented, her leg up on a handrail as she stretched her hamstring. "We should do it again."


Uncharacteristically, the two women's paths didn't really cross for the rest of the week. Leads were few and far between on their LGBT case, so the morning meetings had slipped and the way both departments, NYPD and the Medical Examiner's Office rota worked they just weren't paired up.

The tall brunette, dressed in her scrubs, was standing over a report. A covered body behind her. She was standing with a handsome young officer, maybe seven years younger than herself. The kid had impressed, Morgan- he'd been called to a supposed suicide in a poor area Harlem after neighbours hear a shot fired. There was a disposition to not question deaths in these areas, especially when the victim is a young female with, judging by the track marks, a heroine user.

"So I was right, Ma'am?" He had a southern drawl.

"Don't call me Ma'am, but yes, Officer you are. Angle of entry is almost impossible. She's fired a weapon, no doubt, but that shot didn't kill her. She was sexually active pretty recently as well."

He rhymed off all the avenues he was going to explore; Morgan, although now running late, having planned to leave the office at lunch time, let him. Such enthusiasm shouldn't be crushed. "Sounds good, Officer. I'd ask whoever your superior is if you can run with this one. Be a good opportunity and the girl." She gestured behind her, "Doubt much justice ever came her way, least you can get her some now." He was about to speak again, but Morgan proceeded. "Now, Officer you'll excuse me. I have an appointment."

"Right, Rose, don't stay any later than you have to." She said, having emerged from her office just after one o'clock, changed from the autopsy coveralls and into dark skinny jeans and a fitted black poloneck. "You're sure I've not missed anything?" She was working her lean body into that long black coat.

"Do you never wear any colour?" Her assistant asked, flicking through a list of Morgan's tasks.

"Not if I can avoid it." She was tetchy, leaving the office at lunch time on a Friday and actually havig a full weekend off was new territory in this job. It didn’t feel right, probably a sign that the, albeit short, break was required.

The elderly woman went through the list and, Morgan confirmed that she'd completed action. "Randell wanted you to call him."

"Shit, I forgot." If the Chief ME ever came into the office once in a blue moon they could have an actual conversation. "He's going tonight?"

"Yes, but-"

"Yes I know, no work chat. But it's either that or I'll now be late."

"Ah, your hair appointment. You're going g to a lot of effort for someone who had to be convinced to go."

"I'm not putting any effort in!" Morgan said defensively, "It needs cut and this is as good a reason as any."

“See you tonight, Doctor.”


Stepping out the bath, the Medical Examiner actually felt quite relaxed, Hell she was almost looking forward to the evening she thought as she began to towel dry her freshly cut hair, there was no remarkable difference, it was still its natural lush mahogany colour, just an inch or two shorter. No one would notice. Maybe she’ll notice you got a wax job? Stop it! She frowned at the misted bathroom mirror as she began to brush her teeth. Leah, truth be told, had really gotten under her skin. Maybe it was good they hadn’t seen each other in a few days. Give them a couple of days to cool off after their run, where the Lieutenant had been pretty overt. You’re reading too much into this, she thought to herself. It was just how the redhead went about things. She flirts with everyone. “You’re acting like a teenager.” Morgan muttered to herself, moving into the bedroom, taking her almost empty glass of white with her.

“Not now.” Morgan sighed at her illuminated phone screen. Green icon. Accept, oh God, why is it always FaceTime. “Hi Mum!” Morgan smiled into the screen before putting the phone, facedown on the hardwood floor beside where she was sitting cross legged.

“I called three times, Morgan.”

“Sorry, I was drying my hair- didn’t hear it. How are you?”

“Now I can’t see you. You’ve put me on the floor hav-“

“Mum, how are you?” I’ll pick up the phone in a sec, I’m in the middle of something.” Her mum went on to give her the usual update; tennis, the fact Dad’s been away too long, her grandparents then asking her daughter how she was. Morgan never gave much detail about her job, why would she? What do you do for a living? Oh, I chop up dead bodies. If her Mother didn’t get it, what hope did she have.

“Where you off to tonight?” Morgan informed her. “Here was me getting excited that you were on a date. All this staying in New York is all because you’ve secretly-“

“Sorry to disappoint, Mum. Still a spinster.” She stood up, her hair styled in an unkempt messy fashion. Looking like you just woke up ironically took thirty minutes to achieve. Her makeup was light: tinted moisturizer, mascara, bit of eyebrow definition. “It’s just you in the house, yeah?”

“Well, Carlos keeps turning me down, so yes.”

Morgan laughed. “I can’t believe you have a Mexican gardener; I thought when we moved here we weren’t going to become these people.” She propped the phone up on a high chest of drawers inform of a mirror and checked her appearance.

“Well, needs must and he’s just so toned!” Morgan sometimes couldn’t believe the two of them were related. Her rebellion, in hindsight, was to, well not. “I thought you were going to a work party?”

“I am.” Morgan frowned, redirecting her attention from the mirror to the phone screen in front of it.

“What are you wearing?!”

“This.” Morgan snapped, continuing to button the silver grey silk blouse. “And a pair of black trous-“

“Oh for God Sake, Morgan. You’re going to a party, not to the office. Come on.” The sixty year old almost pleaded. Morgan looked back to the mirror, she looked good, but she also looked like she was going to court. Conceding, she started to undo the blouse and shrugged it off. For all they were different, her and her mother were very close and part of, Morgan was actually enjoying this interaction. Well, up to a point… “But that is nice! Where did you get that?”

“Mum!!” She groaned, crossing her arms over her modest chest and vacating the camera’s view. Tracey Vincent was referring to the expensive grey, demi-cup bra the lace so light it was almost sheer. She was rummaging around in the small walk in wardrobe as woman probed further. “How about this?” She produced a long black skirt in front of the phone’s camera.

“Morgan, it’s a black skirt.”

“No.” She said defensively. “Well, yes, it is, but look. It’s got a bit of a split.”

“It’s better than pants.”

Her department’s evening meal was, well, it was a group of doctors and scientists, so these things can go either way. Daniel’s was a nice restaurant though, whatever the outcome would be; French, light fresh food, good atmosphere. Morgan was sat between her boss, Eric Randle and a toxicologist assistant, Chloe close to, Morgan’s own age. The conversation was mixed, Eric, much to Rose’s annoyance treated the first hour much like a meeting with the pretty brunette, who had, after much deliberation worn the risqué, for her, long black number, the split running almost the top of her tanned thigh. She had paired it with quite a plain white vest, tucked in at the waist and her leather jacket. One could get too feminine of an evening. After the third drink, the chat with Randle really picked up and for the first time, Morgan felt like she had broken the surface of his political front. “Have you met the Commissioner, Morgan?” He asked, once he had finished his mouthful. She said she had, in passing, nothing too formal. “I’ll introduce you, been meaning to for a while.”
Early evening flowed on; somehow it was after nine and a double espresso was placed in front of, Morgan. There was a quick survey done by, Rose to see who was going to the Hilton. “Seven, eight, nine, I know you’re going Eric, thirteen. I’ll go and arrange the cabs.” And with her usual military precision the group were being encouraged to get their coats. “It’s snowing pretty bad, girls.” She chided. At this some gallant Ballistics Analyst picked up a lab tech. It was definitely time to go.

The Hilton was a buzz of nicely suited bodies, NYPD’s Homicide department certainly scrubbed up. As the group walked up the steps and into the entrance hall, butterflies flitted through, Morgan’s stomach. It was just the four, maybe five, drinks. Nothing else. She declined the offer of a coat check and proceeded with Randle, as directed into the function suit, a festively decorated room big enough to hold a couple of hundred. She met his height, at around six feet, “What are you drinking, Morgan?” She replied gin, distractedly as she scanned the bustling room, ‘Life in the Fast Lane’ was being played over the PA. Was there anything more American cop than the Eagles, Randle picked up on this too and they shared a joke. As she walked further into the room, every step granted those looking a flash of the Doctors long leg, particularly toned in the four inch heel of her ankle boots.

“Thanks.” Morgan smiled, when Randle handed her a long skim glass.

“Let’s see if we can get you in front of Piquette before I’m too drunk to remember to do it.” Who was this guy? Maybe there were benefits of these work parties, Morgan thought. There definitely was; a couple of guys had staggered backwards, clinging to each other in laughter. The break in the crowd showed what had caused the hysterics. Morgan smiled, trying to contain it, as she watched Rosenberg hold court, the guys hanging off her every word. No surprises why, she’s scrubbed up. Big time. Morgan indulged herself for a few more moments, glancing towards, Leah as a couple of Detectives who she’s worked with in the past came and spoke to her. As she shook hands, accepted that awkward kiss on the cheek thing, Leah clocked her.

"Gents, can I borrow the, Doctor, please?" Randle touched her leather clad arm, "Commissioner wants a word, Morgan." Internally, the thirty year old grimaced. Worked here for two years years, two years of professional opportunities to meet the guy properly, not just a casual handshake. But no, it had to be now when she was six drinks in and showing a bit more thigh that she'd like this particular person to see. Of course, Morgan's outfit was conservative compared to the few women that were here, Leah being the exception of course.

"Nice to see you both." She said to the officers before following her superior into the crowd before she was presented to the striking commissioner. "Doctor." He said officially which was met by her formal acknowledgment and a firm handshake.

 

[Ambrosia_64]

Leah was the only woman in the world who wore lipstick casually but not formally. Her lips were a nice, mauvish pink naturally, so all she had really done was thrown on some chapstick to her full mouth and it worked just fine. There was a hint of color to her cheeks from drinking, but no visible makeup-she didn’t really need it, that slight tan was enough.

She was wearing ankle boots and long black slacks that flowed over them-the lack of the horizontal line of her normal, knee high boots making her legs look as long as they were. A cream colored turtleneck showed off curves but was entirely appropriate, a silly necklace with an ugly, light up Christmas tree pendant hung from her neck in place of her badge-many of the cops were wearing them, it had been part of a gag gift of some sort. Without a jacket of some kind, and without a man’s shirt, she looked...the picture of classy, casual femininity.

But her hair-that was really did it, made her look entirely different-it was down, the sheen of dark red framing her face and making those flecks of jewel tone green strikingly apparent in her multicolored, mirthful eyes. She’d bobby pinned a portion of it back behind one of her delicate ears. There was a bit of wave to the tresses, and it spilled down her back and around her shoulders-like a damned shampoo commercial.

She looked good. She looked great. She looked straight up beautiful, particularly with that dazzling smile as she sent the gathered company into a bout of laughter.

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Police Commissioner Eric Piquette was getting older-his black hair and mustache had a lot of salt in it these days, but he was still an impressive looking, broad shouldered man, fit and trim even in his fifties. He looked the part in his dress uniform, though he had not donned the hat.

He held a tumbler of what looked to be soda in his left hand, his dark eyes looking over the crowd, an absent, pleasant smile on his otherwise very serious, olive skinned face. As Morgan was presented to him his attention shifted to her with a warmer smile, extending his right hand to shake her graceful one.

“Ah, Dr. Vincent! A face to a name, finally! Leah’s mentioned you and your work on the field-and your contributions down in the morgue. She seems to think you directly responsible for more than a few convictions, my dear.” He seemed both fatherly and stern, yet lacked condescension or abrasiveness. If anything, he sounded impressed with her-what had Leah been saying, exactly?

“High praise from Rosenberg.” Randle said with some surprise.

Piquette began to talk about one such case when Leah appeared at his elbow, having stepped out of her own crowd to join theirs with one of her genial smiles-her eyes narrowing a fraction on Piquette as she realized what he was relaying. Somewhere, she felt embarrassed-but that only made her smile more brassy, glossing over it smoothly with a “The doctor knows what kind of work she does, Eric.”

And then she turned those green flecked hazel eyes on Morgan. She’d already seen her across the room. As usual, the good doctor looked lovely. Leah had been more than a little distracted-not staring, exactly, but she hadn’t heard much of what was said to her after spotting the slim woman.

It wasn’t just her attire, though that skirt was...very nice, those flashes of her toned, long leg. The way she carried herself, interacted with the others. Uncowed and also not overly smiley. Intelligent. Measured. Equal.

Leah took a sip of the amber colored liquid in her hand. Hm.

“You made it out! I was half betting you’d end up working, somehow.” She said with a laugh. Someone grabbed the Commissioner’s attention and he excused himself with a pat to Leah’s back, melting off into the crowd. Randle was pulled away by someone else, leaving just the two of them, for a moment.

“You look great.” She said with a smile. One that wasn’t just surface genial but warm, reached those multicolored eyes and filled them with the overabundance of life Leah seemed to possess. “That outfit is missing something though...” She reached into her pocket and drew out a black lanyard with one of the ugly light up Christmas trees on it. “I snagged you one of these. I figure you may not be homicide, but you deserve it as much as any of my guys.” An amused grin as she offered it to her. She had zero expectation that Morgan would wear it, but perhaps that’s what made it so amusing to her.

“You do though. Look great I mean. Well, and deserve honorary Christmas tree necklaces, but ya know.”

They only got to stand alone a few minutes when Samson waltzed up, holding a tumbler of his own whiskey. He was more than a little intoxicated, face flush with it-he wore a grey suit and white dress shirt, the tie undone and looking a little messy. Leah hadn’t moved to face him, but her eyes flicked to him when he approached. She was irritated. Still pissed about the leak, and fucking furious with the bullshit he’d pulled in the morgue. Vice and Narcotics had jointly planned the party at the Hilton, but those boys had been at the hotel bar and restaurant for most of the night.

“If it ain’t two fine, tall glasses of water! Hello, ladies.”

“And if it isn’t a short glass of milk-how’s it going, Sam?” Leah shot back with a grin, taking a slight, twisting step back to face him head on now. Morgan might notice, for once, Leah was not armed. Suppose in a ballroom full of cops, she didn’t need to be.

“Good, good, checking out the scenery. That’s a lovely skirt you’ve got on there, Morgan.”

Leah’s grin vanished, a brief moment of that impassive mask before an easy, genial smile again curved her lips. There was a dangerous sort of glitter in her eyes however, no mirth, almost predatory. “I think you’re batting out of your league, don’t you Sammy?” Her voice was it’s normal teasing, light hearted, full velvet timbre-but her eyes narrowed the tiniest of bits, almost imperceptible as she stepped closer to him, using her height to it’s full advantage, somewhat edging between him and the doctor, a friendly hand coming down on his shoulder. She was looking down at him, her smile showing teeth now as she leaned forward ever so slightly. “Maybe fighting over your weight class?”

You could have cut the tension with a knife, just then. Samson seemed confused but also indignant, flushing. “I was just stating the truth Red, jeez. The sky is blue, grass is green sort of shit.”

“Maybe you need another drink.” Leah said in the same smiley, dangerous way.

“Maybe I do.” Samson said uncertainly, eyes shifting back to the doctor and then to Leah before he turned and wandered away. She watched him go, then shook her head as she turned back to Morgan.

“So. Anyway.”

 

[Tanned_babe]

“Leah’s mentioned you and your work on the field-and your contributions down in the morgue. She seems to think you directly responsible for more than a few convictions, my dear.”

“High praise from Rosenberg.” Randle said with some surprise.

Fueled by the confidence that comes with a couple of drinks and her and Randle’s new found amicability, Morgan raised a neat eyebrow at her boss, a glint of a smile over those full lips. “You’ll need to swing back the office a bit more, Eric. See the good work we are doing. Avoid the surprise next time.” Randle laughed, saying he had every faith in her. Morgan’s attention reverted to the Commissioner. So Leah, eh? And as if she had heard her name mentioned the Lieutenant appeared at Piquette’s side.

From across the room she was pretty, but now, up close, she was stunning. That auburn hair everywhere, not dissimilarly styled to Morgan’s but the Doctor’s wasn’t always held in a ponytail. The way it tumbled around her face, thick, glossy. Morgan almost wanted to-

“The doctor knows what kind of work she does, Eric.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s not nice to get some recognition, Lieutenant.” Another traced smile across those lips as she tried to maintain the game face.

“You too seem to be quite the pair. Keep it up.” And with that Randle followed the commissioner into the crowd.

Morgan really had to work hard not to show just how enthused she was with the taller woman’s approval and fortunately the accepting of the plastic Christmas tree gave the Doctor the much needed excuse to release another one of those smiles. If anyone was observing the two women it was pretty evident to see that they seemed to make each other genuinely happy. “You really shouldn’t have.” Morgan laughed, accepting the gift. “Does it-“ She pressed the button on the back and the thing illuminated, “Oh, yes it does. The full shebang.” Much to Leah’s surprise, she put it on., negotiating her long mahogany hair and collar of the leather jacket.

“Thanks.” She said surprising softly, her eye’s meeting the Lieutenant’s, “So do you.” She wasn’t as heart-on-her-sleeve as, Leah, but she was getting the increasing feeling that her colleague got that and hadn’t just written her off as a cold bitch, which justifiably, some could do. “You should wear your hair down more often.”

“If it ain’t two fine, tall glasses of water! Hello, ladies.”

“Are you kidding me?” Morgan sighed. In his drunken stupor Samson didn’t seem to notice. Morgan watched the interaction with an impassive expression with the exception of the subtle raising of an eyebrow from time to time. If, Leah wanted to play the hero, be her guest. She’s obviously got to know the Lieutenant and winced internally as she recognized that glint in her eye; her actions betraying the fact she was in predator mode. But there was no need to worry, the Detective turned on his heels and meandered away, no doubt to harass some other undeserving woman.

“What was that about?” She snapped, a furrow across her striking face. “After he made it pretty clear in the morgue I had no chance, I went to all this effort.” She gestured at her outfit, a smile creeping across her face, “And you scare him off.” She shook her head in mock disappointment, “But seriously, I know we talked about killing him, but total emancipation was a bit far, Lieutenant.”

Morgan took a sip of her G and T before cocking her head slightly as if to consider her companion. “So, responsible for solving a few cases am I?”

The pair talked on and off for a while. It was quite loud and Morgan was ever conscious of how close they were standing to hear one another Although not face to face; both seemed to choose a stance which allowed them to both engage with one another and monitor their surroundings. “Had a young Officer, Wilson, I think, in the morgue today. Really good kid, if you have any clout in the level of responsibility he can get, that would be good.” She finished her drink. “What you drinking and don’t dare tell me it’s some blended whiskey, sorry scotch to you, because as a Scot I just can’t order that.”

With that Morgan nodded towards the bar before making her way over the lavish room, every second step revealing that long toned leg. She ordered a double single malt whiskey and another G and T. “Here, proper stuff.” She said as she paid, enjoying the annoyance this was causing the taller woman. “Cheers.” The chinked glassed, eye’s locked again.

“How’s the shoulder?” Please say bad- Morgan!

“Hey, Chief!” A rowdy group of Officers seemed to swarm, Leah. There was no motive behind it, or not that it appeared as such, just a bunch of cops, who’s had a bit too much to drink enthused to see their Lieutenant outside of work. It would be unrealistic to think you’d get her to yourself all night, Morgan reflected.

 

[Ambrosia_64]

Leah had already had plans. Were she honest, she’d had plans for longer than probably prudent. But when Morgan laughed, when she put the tacky necklace on, lit and contrasting with her smart, fashionable style of dress-Jesus, she was the most beautiful wonderful thing she had ever seen, and if they weren’t in a room full of men she might’ve kissed her right then. Hell, that wasn’t quite enough to stop her, but she didn’t think Morgan would appreciate that much.

And she had every intention on Morgan appreciating the evening.

Samson appeared and she dealt with him, resisting the very real urge to deck him in the face. His comment wasn’t that big of deal in her experience-but it wasn’t welcomed by Morgan, either, and maybe he just flat footed bothered Leah more than she had realized.

She wasn’t the possessive sort, but she was feeling more and more protective, and he was an asshole. Her irritation and lingering temper were briefly mixed with surprise by Morgan’s snap. For a minute, Leah thought she had overstepped, but- oh. Oh God damn- Leah laughed, genuinely caught off guard and entertained by the joke, the mirth returning in full force, her smile amused-and happy.

She forgot all about dumbfuck Samson clumsily hitting on the pretty doctor in a minute-particularly as Morgan tipped her head. “So, responsible for solving a few cases am I?”

Leah didn’t blush, but her smile and words got smoother, deflecting away from her having been found out. The talk was nice, companionable. Leah was glad she came. She couldn’t remember the last time she had hoped for anyone’s company, let alone been anxious she might not get it.

Now that Morgan was here, however, she had every confidence she would, indeed, sway her to romance. Prudent or not, Leah didn’t give a damn.

“I’ve got all kinds of clout.” Leah said with a cocky grin, “And if he impressed you, he must be worth his salt.” She’d look into that, genuinely so. Get more details, later, too. Leah was drinking bourbon, and followed after the pretty brunette with a shake of her head at the statements, another laugh. “Beaten to my own game again, eh Doc?”

Before she could answer about the shoulder, flirt-they were surrounded. Any other time she would have bought a round of drinks, been the life of things-but she was focused. “Howdy boys!” Leah greeted with a sweeping, friendly glance and grin.

“Just about to step out for a smoke though, ‘scuse me-” her turn to lead through the crowd, out onto the veranda-which was relatively empty, given the chill. At Morgan’s raised brow, Leah shrugged with a smile. “Yeah, I don’t smoke.” And a soft laugh.

They talked some more before winding down into companionable silence-though it was cold, out here. Leah and Morgan were leaned against the railing, looking out into the small, simple grounds and patch of greenery. She leaned a little closer, a soft bump of her shoulder to hers, facing her.

Out here, her shifting eyes looked like dark amber, and they glittered with intent-before she leaned even closer and kissed her. There was a hint of whiskey and mint on her breath, a simple, nice clean scent to her red hair. Her lips were full, and warm.

“You should see the room I ended up with-got bumped up to a suite. Fanciest damned place I ever stayed in-there’s a chandelier and everything.” Leah told her, a smile.

“Party’s not going anywhere, after all.” She added in a lower tone.
////////////////////////////////////////////////
They moved around the outside of the hotel to the doors, not wanting to get caught and slowed down by anyone at the party-though a few revelers-actual smokers- recognized Leah as they re-entered the building-though she just gave a quick wave and smile.

She pressed for the floor and waited for the doors to close-then turned to the only slightly shorter woman, a tip of her own head this time, a considering expression and the edges of her lips flickering into a smile, her eyes smoldering, glints of green in the amber. “You’re very beautiful, you know that?”

She reached to carefully, gracefully tuck a lock of dark hair behind her ear, the hand pausing there a moment. “And so very, very appealing in that skirt of yours.” She kissed her, then. Couldn’t help it. Had to. Would have been downright sinful not to, in fact.

Warm, soft lips, the soft press quickly becoming a searing one, hot and charged-Leah’s energy funneling into a different sort of levity, of want and desire as her other arm wrapped around the lithe bodied brunette, drew her closer than they had already been. Her heart pounded in her chest and the touch was good and right and long awaited-hell, maybe she had half thought about this ever since Morgan had pulled her aside and hissed at her. Physical lust, anyway.

She wanted, and cocky Leah was sure Morgan wanted too.

But it wasn’t just that, now. Getting to know her, getting to talk to her, see what was under the cold shoulder-Leah had initially set out to befriend the doctor and make her an asset, and had done both and found she wanted more. Much more.

“You could have shown up in sweatpants. Pajamas.” Leah breathed, warm kisses to the side of her face, her ear, her neck. “Wouldn’t matter. Still gorgeous.” New searing kiss to her lips. “I like to watch you talk, like to watch you think-”

“Assured, smart and shining.”

 

[Tanned_babe]

Morgan got the distinct feeling she'd ruined the boys' fun as she followed their 'Chief' across the room and out one of the bay doors into the freezing night. The patio was dimly lit, bit of grass, water feature, probably some sculptures The Hilton tried to pass as modern art, but the Doctor didn't notice. Her taught stomach jolted when, Leah confirmed what she already knew- she didn't smoke.

Resting toned leather clad forearms on the railing, her breath misted before her as she contemplated what she was sure was about to happen. They talked a bit more of work; it wasn't just a job to either of them, it was self defining and such an outlook can really create a kindred spirit. But when they fell silent one could have cut through the tension with a knife as the two women gazed in front of them, stealing the odd glance here and there.

Even material clad shoulders brushing together felt like electricity as, Morgan shifted her attention to her beautiful face; that mischievous glint making Leah all the more difficult to resist. Not that she needed to, the redhead's soft lips were on her's. Morgan didn't shift her position upon the contact, merely lean into, Leah. To the few people that may have seen, it was a simple, relatively brief kiss on the lips. But, shock waves pummelled through the brunette; she'd wanted her to do that since passing her in the precinct a year ago and since they'd gotten to know each other she wanted her to do far more.

And as if she'd read her mind, Leah referred to her room. "Leah." Morgan said in a low tone of disbelief, "You didn't just use that line on me, did you?" She shook her head, volumes of mahogany hair shifting as she did so. She was met by that grin again, the grin that said 'Yes I did and I know it's going to work.' Morgan gestured back inside and she followed the taller woman yet again.

One could hear the party was still going strong; loud music, rowdy behaviour, empty glasses littering the outside of the building. The heels of her ankle boots clicked on the paving as she followed, Leah around the outside of the building. Uncharacteristically, she slipped a delicate hand into the Lieutenant's for a moment when they were alone, dropping it when they rentered the building. Morgan didn't get led anywhere, she took charge, control, gave direction. But there was something, Hell, more than something about the redhead who was now standing shoulder to shoulder with her as they waited for the elevator. The Medical Examiner breathed a slight sigh of relief when it arrived. It was pretty obvious what was going on.

Her response to the Lieutenant's complement was lost. Morgan's mind drew a blank, first time for everything, as the errant strand of hair was tucked behind her ear. It was the most intimate interaction she'd had in years. Her heart pounded as her dark eyes searched Leah's flecked ones. Morgan's hands gripped the elevator's cool brass bar tightly, in anticipation. The skirt comment and then, finally, her lips, Leah's lips. Not just her lips, her mouth.

Morgan moaned, as Leah's firm grip pressed their lithe figures together and matched the heat of her partner's advanced. Taking Leah's bottom lip between her own, her tongue moving into the other woman's mouth. Leather clad arms draped themselves up over those strong shoulders before working her delicate hands into that glorious mane. She wanted to pull it. Not yet. "It did the job then." She said between kisses, "Got your attention."

Morgan moved her head slightly, giving the redhead clear access to her slender neck. The combination of those lips, her hot breath and Leah's words were enough have the Doctor shiver and the faint hairs on the back of her next stand on end. "Jesus, Leah." She gasped, modest chest rising and she balled some of that thick auburn hair in her hand encouraging the woman's efforts on the sensitive skin.

"I like that you watch me." Morgan replied between the ferocious kisses. "I like that you want-" The elevator dinged to a halt and reluctantly, Morgan untangled herself from the red head. They were both flushed, chest heaving slightly with a look of complete lust on their faces as they stood and looked at each other. Leah's slightly rouged cheeks and that now more so tousled hair only further served to arouse the Doctor.

Leah mentioned where the room was, end of the hall. End of the hall was an awful long walk, Morgan contemplated, the corner of her full lips creeping into a smile. She grabbed at the Lieutenant's forearm, again, the soft material of her turtleneck contrasting with toned muscled underneath. The taller woman, turned and in one smooth motion, Morgan had pushed her up against the wall of the hallway with a faint thud, her lightly tanned thigh wedged in between Leah's strong legs, locked in another passionate embrace.