Perspectives (female)

[Chanel_no5]

A ”Waking the Dead” fanfiction piece. I do not own anything and I promise to put everything back in its place after I finished playing. I was having a bit of fun with writing from different character's point of views. It's just for fun, but since it contains sneezing, I figured I'd post it here.

Chapter 1. Grace’s point of view.

The devil is in the details.

Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder.

All is in perspective.

She is all about perspectives.

Profiling my co-workers is not a game I use to play, but every now and then it seems that she is the only one who’s still capable of surprising me. She is not the most sociable person in the world; she seems made for working alone in a lab, playing with dead things, her seemingly only purpose among the living is presenting forensic results and stating statistics. The passive-aggression often showing in her reconstructions of the murders is sometimes frightening; she is clearly a woman with a lot of suppressed anger inside. She is intelligent, independent; lonely. She recoils at human touch, but she has no problem giving it herself.

Her parents were probably divorced, she either had no siblings or the age difference was big, and she has learned early to reject before being rejected. Sometimes I wished I could reach out to her and touch the emptiness inside of her that she tried so hard to hide, and make her come out of her shell. She is not rude or unpleasant, but she keeps to herself at all costs.

Eve Lockhart has the smile of a thousand suns, but she rarely smiles at all. And what hurts me as a friend and as a colleague, is that if I told her all the truths she tries not to see, would she even care?

From her perspective, being human is being weak.

Eve’s hayfever was her most vulnerable feature. She fought to keep it a secret from us, and she was good at it, I give her that. But if you suffer from a condition as bad as hers, how long can you keep it from the people you meet more often than you meet your lover?

Not that Eve had a lover. Like the rest of us she was married to her job. But I knew. I knew how she and Stella had been looking at each other for months now, always when they believed the other one wasn’t looking. Their gazes seemed to linger a little too long, sending glitter of stardust into the air. I saw it. I had only been waiting for their eyes to actually meet across the rooms. But before that happened, it was springtime. And when Eve’s hayfever started to act up, steady as a clockwork in pace with the blooming of the trees, she had been spending more and more time alone in her lab, withdrawing from the rest of us and especially from Stella. I didn’t imagine the look of wounded confusion on Stella’s face, but Eve never flinched. She would rather sacrifice the love Stella was willing to offer her, sooner than admitting to her very human vulnerability.

Eve suffered. But so did Stella. For a police officer, Stella was very oblivient to the obvious, and she did not see the red that rimmed Eve’s hazel eyes, she did not see how Eve’s pale skin around her nose turned into a raw, almost radiant, red from all nose-rubbing, nose-blowing, and sneezing. Eve was fighting desperately not to sneeze in front of the rest of the team, and she would succeed more often than she failed. To Stella, the only thing that seemed wrong with Eve was the fact that she had turned into a dismissive figure. I had been planning on talking to Stella, but I didn’t quite know how to bring it up. I knew I had to, though. Eve was not going to help out here. And the men… well; they wouldn’t recognise infatuation even if it bit their arses.

Chapter two. Graces point of view.

“I don’t think this is the murder weapon”, Eve said. Her voice, husky as it was to begin with, was now so hoarse and congested it was hard to make out the words. She sniffed and wiped at her nose with a Kleenex. We were alone in the lab, the others hadn’t shown up just yet.

“No” I said.

“But at this point we can’t rule anything out” she added, frustrated. She could get horribly impatient sometimes when things simply didn’t add up, but unlike Boyd, her impatience often gave results. Now, however, she only looked tired, weary, sick.

“Eve” I said carefully, switching subjects shamelessly, “have you spoken to Stella lately?”

“Of course I have” she said and blew her nose forcefully. “I spoke to her this very morning at the team gathering, remember?”

“I didn’t mean like that…”

“Excuse me, I… I think I have to…”

She sneezed wetly into the already soaked tissue, once, twice, three times. And then a fourth. It was clear to me that she put in a huge effort to keep the sneezes small, ladylike, but she didn’t manage to do that job properly. The itchiness was simply too much for her to handle.

“God bless you”.

She rolled her eyes.

“I’m a forensic scientist. I don’t believe in God”.

“Stella does… and she’s a police officer” I said casually, bringing Stella up again.

“I am not Stella”.

“No, but you care about her, don’t you?”

Eve was silent.

“I think she cares a great deal about you. You’re pushing her away and she doesn’t understand why. You’re hurting her, Eve”.

“I haven’t been unpleasant to her”.

“No, but you have been evasive and chilly”.

Eve was just about to say something, or perhaps sneeze again, when the doors opened and the others burst inside. Boyd had been acting very strange lately, around Eve. It was as if he was waiting for a chance to catch her sneeze. It seemed to amuse Eve a little, but she didn’t carry out the performance around him.

Stella’s eyes swept across Eve, flickering, and then she looked down at her bracelet. Eve, on the other hand, didn’t look at her. In fact, she made a big performance out of not looking at Stella. Not the childish sulking way, but in a way that signalled “you touch me too deeply and I won’t recognise you”. Oh believe me, as a psychologist you notice these signs around people every day, and it can get tiresome.

“I need… oh shit… huh-ptSSCHH! Ah-yeSSSCHH! Heh-kTSCHHughh!” Eve tried to smother the sneezing fit into the tissue, but this time it really was falling to pieces. Not looking at anyone present, she dropped it into the bin and snatched a handful of fresh ones from the tissue box on the table. She pressed the soft paper against her face and her voice was muffled when she spoke through the fabric.

“I need to examine the DNA before I can say anything”.

She walked away from the rest of us and blew her nose softly. Boyd looked towards her and looked on the verge of saying something, no doubt something stupid. I caught his eye and shook my head so slightly only he noticed. He closed his mouth. For once, he closed his mouth before doing any harm.

Chapter 3: Stella’s point of view

Whenever Eve turns her back on me, it feels like the sun goes into shadow. We were getting close from last autumn, through the winter… I felt like she was letting me into her life. Eve is a complex and complicated person; she has so much warmth and compassion inside, but she doesn’t want to receive any back. No doubt a lot of it has to do with her past; she was there when they were digging up mass graves in Bosnia in the 90’s. I often wonder what she was like before seeing those sights; before glimpsing into hell. I never dare to ask, though. Spence tried to talk to her about those mass graves once, and she would just look away and end the conversation.

As she had been doing a lot lately. Look away and end conversations. I was afraid it had something to do with me; perhaps I had been too forward, perhaps I had been pushing our friendship too far. I knew I was in love with Eve, with this wonderful, stubborn, intelligent and attractive scientist, but I also knew that showing that love would be scaring her away. Eve was proud. And she was a loner.

Grace was standing beside me when Eve walked by, quickly and careful not to touch me by mistake. I felt my shoulders slump despite my best effort not to show how she affected me. I guess nobody can fool Grace, though. I felt her hand, steady and comforting, giving my upper arm a swift but determined caress. I smiled gratefully, but I would be damned before I said something. Not where Boyd could hear… and definitely not where Eve could hear.

Eve was blowing her nose ferociously in the next room, sounding like she did her best to blow her own brains out. She had been dragging that head cold around for quite a while now. I wanted to ask her how she was doing, but one look from her was enough; never ask her if she was alright, because she wouldn’t answer such questions.

From Eve’s perspective, anything “human” was a weakness if it happened to herself. Not to others. I don’t think I’ve ever met a person, Grace aside, with such a broad respect for other people and their weaknesses, but she would not accept them in herself.

She re-entered the lab, her nose reddish and the look upon her beautiful face embarrassed and miserable, and I wanted to put my arm around her waist and hold her. I wanted to kiss her flushed cheeks and pull my fingers through her long brown hair.

“Right”, Eve said and forced her lips into a smile, “there are two DNA strains on this knife. One of them surely belongs to the victim. The other…”

“To the killer” Boyd filled in and looked happy for the first time that day.

“Yep. At least that’s what we hope for. I run the tests and let you know as soon as possible” she continued and put a cigarette between her dark red lips.

“At least you’ll be an easy death to determine”, Boyd said as she lit the fag and inhaled the smoke with a look of absent-minded pleasure.

“Huh?”

“Booooyyyd…” Grace groaned.

“Lung cancer. No doubt”.

“Slowest suicide in the world” Eve said, but she was smiling. So was Boyd. Spence and Grace shook their heads, and I didn’t know what to do or where to look. Eve’s lips sucking at the cigarette made my stomach flutter; what would it feel like to have those lips sucking at my breas…

“Mon dieu, this has to end” I muttered to myself. Grace gave me a weird glance, but Eve was fixated on her cigarette. Luckily. I don’t think she noticed me when I left the lab, hanging my coat in its place, but I noticed her. She didn’t look very well.

No, she didn’t seem well at all.

Chapter 4. Eve’s point of view.

Stella’s eyes were like spotlights surveying me, I could feel their warmth upon my skin and it sent funny tickles up my spine. It was difficult knowing how to act whenever she was around, and I especially didn’t want to put her off with my messy, sneezy self. I preferred to be alone when I felt this allergic, I didn’t want her to see me in this state. Snotty, sniffly; messy. My nose wouldn’t stop running, and it itched beyond belief. It felt like there was a small fire blazing behind my face, making my eyes water. I kept blinking to clear my eyesight, and far too often I had to surrender to yet another sneeze attack. This spring, my allergies had been absolutely horrible, and my meds didn’t seem to keep up with the pollen and my overly-active immune system.

“Stella! Chop-chop!”

Stella blinked as Boyd did his usual version of “encouragement”, and she started walking out of the lab, somewhat dazed. Inside, I urged her to move on, because I could feel a sneeze coming, and it was building fast. My sinuses felt like they were licked by flames. Oh dear sweet Lord Stella, move your arse out of here! I prayed while rubbing my nose with the back of my right hand, the cigarette forgotten in the other.

Stella looked over her shoulder, opening her mouth… and then closed it again and kept going. Good.

I held it back for as long as I could, but in the end I had to let it out. I turned away from the table with the forensic photographs, grabbed a tissue from the box and cupped my free hand, with the tissue in, in front of my face. I aimed for the tissue, but I’m sure I didn’t manage to catch all the spray.

“HehSSSCHH! Heh-uESSCHHH! Eh-hehSSSSHHioo!”

It wouldn’t stop itching. Each sneeze seemed only to enhance the next one, rapidly turning themselves into the violent, embarrassing and loud ones I tried so hard to suppress. I hated being loud and making a scene in any way. I am British for crying out loud!

Sneeze after sneeze rocked my body, and I barely had time to breathe in between, surrendering completely. I was only grateful nobody was here to see me. Putting my weaknesses on display was not my cup of tea, not at all.

Chapter 5: Graces point of view.

Stella entered my office, shifting her feet and looked like a little school girl. I sat down and took off my glasses.

“Take a seat Stella”.

“N-no… I… I should be going…” she said, clearly not knowing what to do.

“Right now, I think you need to talk. Take a seat. And close the door. I have a feeling what you’re about to say is nothing that Boyd needs to hear”.

She surrendered with a sigh, sinking down into the visitor’s chair and stared at her hands. I let her take her time. Rushing her would only make her silent.

“I’m going to ask her out” she blurted out, then looked surprised at her own courage. There was no doubt about whom she meant, but I had to be certain.

“Are you talking about Eve?”

“Yes…” a smile touched the corners of her mouth, lighting up her face. She tried to suppress it, but it wouldn’t really work. “Yes, I’m talking about Eve. Doctor Lockhart. The prettiest woman I’ve ever seen”. Her smile disappeared and she looked troubled instead. “Would it be very much out of line, you think? I mean… I can’t stop thinking about her, but she’s been so… evasive lately, I wonder if I’ve done something wrong and I figured that if we were alone at some public place I could talk to her in another way than…”

She interrupted herself with a short laughter, and shook her head. “I’m babbling, aren’t I?”

“It’s fine. Go on”.

“I figured that if we talked, she might… I don’t know, tell me her point of view on things, finding out what I’ve done wrong and…”

“Eve’s perspectives on things aren’t always easy to spot and they’re certainly not easy to drag out of her. It doesn’t mean she’s trying to hurt you”, I said. “It doesn’t mean you’ve done anything wrong”.

“She is so damn proud” Stella grunted between her teeth.

“Go easy on her. And go easy on yourself”.

“Grace… how… how did you know?”

“I’m almost twice your age, and I’m a psychologist. I have seen human emotions in almost every shape. I don’t try to spot it or intrude on your personal life, I really hope I don’t come across sounding like I do…”

“Not you Grace, not ever”.

“But sometimes it makes me so annoyed when it’s so clear to me, and the persons it concerns keep sticking their heads into the sand” I said, smiling a little.

“So… do you think Eve would go out with me?”

“Yes, I think”.

“Thank you” Stella said and got up from her chair.

“Stella” I said as she put her hand on the handle.

“Yes?”

“Just don’t bring her flowers”.

“Why?”

“Because Eve is allergic”.

Chapter 6. Stella’s point of view.

“Absolutely not”.

Eve emphasised her declination by tapping at the whiteboard.

“I’ve got lots of work to do, and I imagine so do you”.

“We can’t do anything before the DNA analysis is done… and we have to eat, don’t we? What’s the harm in going out for dinner and grab a beer?” I tried to sound casual, but tears burned in my eyes.

“I can’t”.

She turned away from me; the sun went into shadows, and my heart leapt.

“Eve, don’t do this! What have I done, what’s wrong?”

“Done? You?”

Her voice was filled with real surprise as she turned around to face me. The sun came out of the clouds again. I was back into her light.

“You haven’t done anything wrong”.

“Why are you doing this? Eve, please talk to me!”

And then I did what I never thought possible. I leaned forward, gently put my hand behind her neck, and I kissed her. She pulled loose, but she looked guilty more than angry – or repulsed.

“I love you Eve” I whispered. “Are you going to tell me you never knew?”

“I’m not a very lovely person” she replied. Her eyelids fluttered, her breath hitched.

“To me you are” I replied. Eve waved her hand at me, as if telling me to stay away, and then sneezed forcefully and repeatedly into her cupped hands – into the rubber gloves she hadn’t taken off yet.

“Hah-rAESSCHHH! AH-ESSCHHH! Huh-kdSSCHHHghhh!”

Then it dawned on me.

Her allergies.

Her pride.

“Aww Eve…” I mumbled as I took a bunch of tissues from the now almost-emptied box and walked up to her. This time she didn’t back off, but that was probably more due to the sneezing fit that had her in its grasp. I put my arm around her, steadied her as she kept sneezing, one after another, and when the eruption seemed to die down, I put my head on her shoulder.

“Is that it?” I purred softly. “Are you afraid I’ll think you’re a weak person because you’re allergic?”

“I’m such a mess” she said, nearly dissolving into tears, but fighting it bravely.

“You’re not” I whispered, taking a tissue and wiped her nose with it – her nostrils were pink and irritated, and it probably hurt, so I was being as gentle as I could. “I think you’re pretty no matter what”.

“Thank you” she sniffed, giving me a shy glance, a very non-Eve glance. “This is an insult. I like being composed and unflappable, I hate being an allergic mess! It’s so weak, I really should be able to… to…”

She sneezed against my shoulder.

“Heh-gnXXghh!”

“À tes souhaits”.

Eve looked at me, sternly, and then she giggled.

“Alright, let’s go and grab a beer. But I might be just sitting in the corner sneezing my head off”.

“Don’t worry, you’ve got plenty of heads in the morgue”.

She laughed out loud this time, and then she suddenly became very serious.

“Did you really mean that part about being in love?”

I swallowed and then nodded.

“I’m not very good at these things…” she said. “So… I’m glad you said it first. I don’t think I’d have the guts. Emotions never were my thing”.

“I know. You hate being vulnerable”.

“Vulnerabilities are weaknesses, and weaknesses are used by those who don’t mean well”.

“What’s happened to you Eve?” I asked. She grabbed my arm as she replied:

“One day I might tell you. But not today. Come on”.

Eve was sniffling almost constantly, a sound that would normally annoy me. But with her, it was different. Everything was different.

And the sun was shining.