Spliced

Cat was sitting in her car doing surveillance when a new car pulled into the car park, one with some very distinctive black and yellow markings, a cop car.

Cat gave it a sideways look, pressed herself back hard into her seat, hoping this was just a coincidence, and tried and failed not to look suspicious. Her heart sank even further when she recognised the cop that stepped out of the car. It was Bliss, the one she’d played chicken with a few days ago.

Bliss was tall and muscular with brown hair tied back in a tidy plait. Her stature wasn’t that different from Cat’s. The woman obviously regularly hit the free weights at the gym. Cat thought maybe she could beat Bliss in a fight, but she wasn’t certain. There was a part of her that wanted to find out, that longed for some proper competition. Unfortunately, if cops priortised anything, it was their own. Cat couldn’t risk an altercation with Bliss, even if she did end up winning today, she’d lose tomorrow.

Bliss rapped on her window.

Cat rolled it down and gave Bliss her best ‘yes, officer’ look.

“What are you doing, Cat?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Cat asked.

Bliss smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes. “It looks like you’re waiting for the guy inside that you nearly beat up, to come out, so you can finish the job.” Bliss sighed and shook her head. “I’m gonna have to ask you to leave, Cat.”

“That guy, killed his daughter.” Cat stared right into Bliss’s grey eyes as she said it.

She thought she saw the Bliss’s jaw twitch. Did she know what he had done already?

From what Cat could remember, Bliss was like a mindwalker of sorts. Except, she didn’t read minds. She read memories, but not from people, from places and things. Luckily for Cat right now, that sort of stuff was inadmissible in court. There was no doubt that Bliss probably knew it was Cat who had sped through Little Rock, on more than one occasion, but she couldn’t arrest her for it unless she could prove it in a court of law. On the other hand, maybe if it had been admissible then Cat wouldn’t even be here right now and Nolan would be the one looking forward to the inside of a jail cell. More than likely they both would be.

“Do you have proof?” Bliss asked.

Cat narrowed her eyes.

Bliss read her expression easily.

“Move along Cat, unless you’d like a ride in my car. Now.”

Cat eyed her thoughtfully, considering her options.

Bliss sighed. “You’ve got 5 minutes to get off the premises before I arrest you for trespassing.”

“Fine,” Cat grumbled and reached for her keys. Less than a minute later her tyres were squealing out of the car park. From the rear view mirror, Cat could see Bliss watching her until she was hidden by the trees.

Baz was just putting the finishing touches on a collection of macaroons when Cat barged back into his small cabin. From the way she entered, he could tell she wasn’t here on a social call. More than likely she wanted information. If not that then something else. As an unorthodox emergency medical repairman of the worst of the underbelly of Little Rock, and frequenter of The Rusty Nail, Baz knew all the gossip, not that either of them would ever refer to the kind of information they shared simply as ‘gossip.’

“What do you want?” Baz asked, not unkindly. If he’d learnt anything about Cat over the years, it was that she liked to get straight to the point and that she rarely expected people to give her what she wanted the first time. Thus, doing exactly that tended to make her pause and actually think for a moment. Sometimes that was enough to stop whatever crazy rampage she was on. As much as he considered her business hers, and he did like her company, he didn’t like it if she was turning up on his doorstep with holes in her torso in need of repair. It made him worry that one day she might not turn up at all. That, and she had a damn nice torso.

But he had more reasons to worry now. A glance at the slither of bare belly that was visible just above her belt made obvious what he had missed before. How had he not noticed the slightly increased protrusion of what was normally so flat? Perhaps he hadn’t really wanted to? Whatever the reason before, he knew he wanted to know it now, her or him, or whomever his future child might be. For a moment he let himself get lost in thoughts of teaching a son to fish.

As Baz had expected, the fire went out of Cat’s stride the moment he asked what she wanted. Or perhaps it was the velvet red macaroons, sitting so neatly decorated on his kitchen bench, and the fact that he was currently in the middle of filling the last one delicately with frosting. As she caught sight of them she paused, frowned and cocked her head a little to the left.

He couldn’t blame her really. While he cooked often, it was usually steaks, salmon, eggs, meat pies, and other hearty things. Once he had made her a panna cotta, because he knew how much she liked cream. Desserts he could do well and occasionally did indulge in, but only once or twice in front of Cat and rarely something quite so fiddly as macaroons.

It wasn’t that he feared her judgement. Quite the opposite in fact. Right now he was getting quite the silent kick out of her puzzled reaction. It was more that she didn’t usually eat a lot of sugar and so dessert would have been wasted on her. He was of the opinion that food should be loved or it should not be eaten at all. There was no point in eating things you hated. And there was something about the expression on her face right after she’d tasted a bite of a deer he’d just butchered and braised. It was a difficult look to achieve with Cat, and a fine fillet seemed to do it for her like nothing else quite could.

“I’m not gonna ask,” she remarked, eyeing the macaroons suspiciously.

“Good,” Baz replied.

While she pondered the presence of the macaroons and her reason for being here, Baz turned around to find a container to put his latest creations in. When he turned back again he found her with her finger coated in frosting and half way to her mouth.

He immediately grabbed her hand.

“Stop.”

She gave him another puzzled frown.

As he pulled her by the wrist toward the sink he said, “Those aren’t for consumption unless you’d like to end up six feet under.”

She cocked one perfectly trimmed eyebrow. Her long, thick, dark hair was naturally smooth and straight, or at least it would have been if she’d bothered to brush it and refrained from running her oil coated hands through it. As it was, her hair always looked a little ruffled, like she’d just walked out of the bush or recently woken up. But despite not seeming to own a hairbrush or the finding the time to use one, she always had her eyebrows neatly plucked into a slight arch. One that was even more pronounced in her current expression. He could smell car oil on her. He found it strangely alluring. There was always a slight scent of pine too, although he wasn’t sure why. If he had to guess it was probably her shampoo or soap but he couldn’t be certain given she never showered at his place. Maybe she thought his shower too cramped? There really wasn’t much room in it, but Baz hated wasted space and resources. He’d made his place as big as it needed to be. The more bush around it the better.

He turned on the tap but she yanked her arm from his grasp.

“I can clean my own damn finger.”

He left her to it, only glancing back to make sure she wasn’t eating the stuff. He didn’t really expect her to be so stupid, he just wanted to make sure she didn’t think he’d been joking or something.

He finished plating the maroons and then he stood and watched her as she finished drying her hands with a paper towel. Occasionally she glanced at him out of the corner of her dark green eyes, but she seemed disinclined to look him for any extended amount of time. Furthermore, she seemed angry about something. He wasn’t in a hurry though so he waited and while he waited he studied the clear curve of her jaw, the way her neck moved when she swallowed, the shape of her ear as she brushed her hair from her face and finally looked him in the eyes.

For a little while she just stared at him, as if she had forgotten herself and the reasons for her being here, until he felt like he was the one under a microscope.

“What did you want?” he prodded.

“Who says I want anything?” Her reply was sharp and short as it often was. He could hear the challenge and the defiance. He couldn’t explain why he found that so hot, but it made him want to pin her to the bed and show her who was really in charge. She would never let him though and he would never do something she didn’t want. She may act all tough but body language didn’t lie. If anything he did ever made her stiffen then he backed off. And that was fine by him. The top might be fun but the bottom was a lot less effort.

Still, he couldn’t resist the teasing threat. She liked the lure of a fight almost as much as his eye fillets. What they did was a dance, as if it were rehearsed. He enjoyed the game, never knowing when she might show up. He liked missing her, liked that cocky half-twisted smile that said she’d be back. He took a step toward her, close enough so he was looking down. She raised her chin so she was looking right at him, no way was she backing down. He expected no less.

With a cock of any eyebrow he asked, “So, you’re here on pleasure then?”

He could feel the tremble in her breath, whether form excitement or nervousness he wasn’t sure. But then she spun on her heels and stepped away. That body language said enough. It said not tonight. Evidently whatever business she had come here on was more important.

“I need a sleuth.”

“What for?”

“Does it matter?”

Baz shrugged.

Cat’s eye line slid to where the plate of macaroons sat. “Who are the macaroons for?’

Baz didn’t answer.

“Are they for Coal?”

“Thought you weren’t gonna ask.”

Cat sighed, waved a hand, and then paced up down the kitchen. “There’s a guy I want followed.”

“Why?”

“Because I think think he killed his daughter.”

“You think?”

“Wouldn’t need a sleuth if I knew for sure would I?”

He hadn’t moved from his spot and she came back to meet him now.

“I just need to know where he lives.”

“You must know at least one place to find him. Why can’t you follow him yourself?”

“Because this stupid cop is up my arse.”

He almost smiled. That was exactly why he asked those questions. “Ah, and so you want to bring them down on me do you?”

She scowled. “How would this bring them down on you?”

“Simple, they see you following him and then they see my guy following him, then they can link that to you, and then potentially to me.”

“Well, that’d be a shitty sleuth then.” She cocked one questioning eyebrow.

Baz pretended to consider it and then her replied, “No.”

“Oh, come on.”

Ah, so she planned to beg now did she? It wouldn’t work. He didn’t like pleading. He found the angry and demanding Cat far more attractive. He shook his head.

Cat pouted and her eyes narrowed. It wasn’t a cute look. It was dark, thoughtful, plotting. Cat could be clever when she actually stopped a moment to think things through.

He waited.

Finally she sighed. “What do you want?”

It wasn’t about the exchange, not with Cat. It was just a facade for their game, but something in those words made his mind wander off in a direction he hadn’t expected and before he could consider his thoughts properly and stop himself, he found his mouth answering for him.

“We should get married.”

“What?!”

Fuck! Had he really just said that? He couldn't blame her for looking as surprised as she did. Oh well, now that he’d said it, he realised he meant it. Might as well roll with it.

“Why not?”

“Uh...” Cat’s mouth fell open. She was at a loss for words. Eventually she said, “Oh, you’re serious?”

He nodded and repeated, “Why not? We’ve known each other ten years now. Other people do it.”

“We’re not other people, and we’re hardly exclusive.”

A part of his mind agreed with her and part of it feared he was pushing her away in asking. Wasn’t it the unknown that he enjoyed? Except, with a glance to her belly, he realised it wasn’t the same if there was a kid involved. He’d grown up with a father who had been absent. It had driven his mother insane. He didn’t want that for his kid. He wanted it to have a proper family at least for the child, and that wasn’t whatever this was. Things would have to change. He pushed forward.

“We could be though.”

He noticed her lip waver. That seemed to scare her more than the mention of marriage. She laughed.

He kept his composure.

She glanced at his face and then she hesitated. She seemed to be considering it but there was doubt there too.

“You’re not just asking because I’m pregnant?”

“No,” he lied. Was it a lie? He knew he never would have asked if it weren’t for the kid, but he didn’t think the kid was the only reason he was asking. Now he was imagining Cat being here all the time, waking up every morning with her by his side. There was an appeal in that. He just hadn’t considered it seriously before. Right? He didn’t let his doubt show. He pushed it down, deep inside.

Cat was quiet a moment longer and then she quipped, “Aren’t you supposed to get down on one knee or something?”

“Do you want me too?” he inquired seriously. He wasn’t sure how you were supposed to do this stuff, least of all with the likes of someone like Cat. She was right, they weren’t like other people.

“No.” She laughed and twisted her body so she was leaning against the kitchen bench with her arms crossed. A quick rejection of the act but it was just a little too quick, and the sharp silence that followed, along with her serious expression and furrowed eyebrows, suggested she wasn’t quite sure about that either.

“I don’t know,” she said after some time.

“Think about it,” Baz told her offhandedly, knowing he didn’t sound like he was talking about marriage at all but something far more mundane. Perhaps that was important though.

Cat gave the barest of nods, tilting her head side to side as she did, as if considering a purchase. Then with a wry smile she asked, “You’ll think about giving me that name?”

“It’s not a trade.” He smiled softly back. He wanted to make sure she knew that, even though it was all just banter. “But sure, I’ll think about it.” Maybe he could do some of his own research. And there was something to be said for giving Cat the name of one of his sleuths so she didn’t get herself into trouble trying to get her own one from somewhere else.

“Alright then,” Cat said in a tone that indicated she was leaving.

Baz gave her a nod and then he watched her as she walked out, letting the image of her fine arse burn itself into his retina for later recall.