Possessing Morgan:
A Matter of Conviction
by Aurelia
Part 22
See Part 1 for Disclaimers
Chapter 22
It took a couple of minutes before Morgan could straighten out her back. She was rather proud of herself for getting into such a small space, but she promised herself never to repeat the feat. At least not if she ever wanted to walk again. “Give me a minute.” The sergeant steadfastly refused to let a sound pass her lips, muscle and sinew screaming in agony as she slowly stretched her abused back.
“Don’t worry about it. I can manage the counselor.”
Leaning heavily on her one good hand, Morgan watched as Cheryl carefully maneuvered Andrea out of the car. She could see the stiff movements in the small woman, her injured shoulder carefully supported at the elbow by her good hand. “Hey. You okay?” Andrea just couldn’t speak, settling instead for a nod in confirmation. At this point she just wanted to find a nice soft bed to lie down on and suffer in silence.
Cheryl moved around to the back of the car, using the key to open the trunk. “Next time, I’m traveling in there.” She wondered if Morgan realized what she was saying.
“You’re not serious. In there?” Cheryl looked at the trunk, wondering what on earth would possess the woman to take refuge in such an enclosed space.
“After nearly breaking my back on the floor of your car, believe me it will be heaven.”
“Okay, if you say so. Here are your things.” She handed over the battered duffle bag, along with the key to their room. “It’s room 513.” Morgan’s eyes lifted up the building, noting the aged brickwork. “I’ll just go park the car and I’ll meet you up in the room.”
“Good. Thanks, Detective.”
“Please, Cheryl.”
“Thanks… Cheryl.”
The sedan disappeared into traffic, leaving the two women standing alone on the sidewalk. Morgan shifted around to Andrea’s good arm, supporting her as they made their way up the steps to the front door. It took her good shoulder to shift the massive wood and glass door open so they could enter the lobby. Very nice. While this hotel was not up the standard of the Hiltons or the Sheratons of this world it was not a dump either, exuding a quiet elegance of days gone by.
They were about to cross the lobby to the elevator when a well-bred voice drifted towards them from the front desk. “May I help you madam?”
Madam? She was no madam, she arrested them. The detective found a chair for Andrea, slowly lowering her to the cushioned comfort of the seat. All she wanted to do was to crawl up to their room and curl up in a ball. “Ah, yes. We have a reservation.” She held up the key. “Room 513.”
The young man looked down the registry, his brow creasing at the entries made. He looked up again to the tall redhead, curiosity written on his features. Sighing, Morgan reached into her pocket, extracting her badge. Happy now?
“I’ll find a bellboy to show you to your room.” He was about to hit the bell when a large strong hand landed on the top of his, firmly stopping him from ringing it.
“No need. We can find our own way.” There was no way in hell she was going to pay some pimply-skinned kid ten bucks to take a ride with them in the elevator when she was very capable of finding the room herself. Morgan turned to see Andrea slumped in the chair, sympathizing with the pain she could see written on her face. The first thing they were going to do was pop a Tylenol or two and take a nap.
It was slow progress to their room, pain and exhaustion dogging their every step. If she wasn’t so sore, Morgan would have laughed at the fact that it was only early morning and they were ready for a sleep. But, then again, she wasn’t used to folding herself into a human pretzel to fit on the floor of the front seat either.
“Finally,” she sighed, looking to the counselor’s exhausted but happy face. “Yeah, I know how you feel.”
Andrea seriously doubted that the redhead really did know how she felt, but she wasn’t going to argue the point. They were here and there was a bed on the other side of the door.
Morgan swiped the card down the slot, satisfied to hear the resounding click of the lock. She was pleased to find the room spacious and well lit by a large window which occupied most of the far wall. “Not bad…”
“Oh yeah.” The detective turned to see a wide grin on the small blonde’s face, finally turning to see what the counselor was looking at. Oh crap.
“Let me see if I can fix this.”
“Just stop it. Besides, you’re too tired to jump my bones.”
“Too tir… Me?”
“You’re not too tired? Oooh, my lucky day.” Andrea tried very hard not to laugh at the gob-smacked look on Morgan’s face. “I’m joking, Morgan.” The detective cast a wary glance at the counselor, wondering if there was some kind of trap she was walking into. “Look, that trip in the car made me realize that I’m nowhere near fit for any kind of activity, alright? The double bed is fine.”
“You sure?” Morgan just wasn’t up to arguing with the hotel clerk right now.
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
Andrea sat down on the edge of the mattress, her eyes already where her body wanted to be. “Before you collapse, how about we get changed into something more comfortable?”
“Now there’s an invitation I can’t refuse.”
“I can’t have a straight conversation with you, can I?”
“Sorry, when I’m tired I get silly.”
“No kidding?” This woman was going to be the death of her. Morgan reached for the duffel bag, emptying the contents on the bed. “Is this all you’ve got?” She held up a silk blouse and tailored pants.
“Yep. Nothing but the best.”
“You only have one pair of jeans?”
“I do but they’re back at Charleston. I was expecting to be working and sleeping. Recreation didn’t come into the equation at that point in time so I thought one pair would do.”
“Well, wear your pajamas for now.” Morgan grabbed her jeans and shirt and moved towards the bathroom to change. “I’ll be back in a minute to help you.”
“This is ridiculous. Why are you changing in there?”
“Because you are here.”
“If I didn’t know you better, I’d say you are a prude Morgan O’Callaghan.”
“I am not.”
“Yes you are. You are chicken.”
“What did you call me?”
“Buck, buck, buck.”
“You are a lucky woman that you are injured, Andrea Worthington. You are walking a fine line, young lady.”
“Chicken, chicken,” she whispered.
“Fine.” Morgan threw down her clothes on the bed and started undressing, nearly ripping off her shirt in anger. She made short work of the material, buttoning up her jeans in record time. “Call me a chicken will you…” she mumbled. “Now Counselor, it’s your turn.” She turned to find a sweet smile cross those rose lips. “Awww, Andy, don’t do this.”
“I’m not gonna do anything. That trip exhausted me and my shoulder is killing me. Just do what you have to do so I can lie down.” Andrea closed her eyes as she felt long fingers pluck at her clothes, her skin dotted with goosebumps as the material fell away. A gentle stinging skittered across her injured shoulder as Morgan pulled away the gauze pad.
A whispered gasp made her cringe. “It’s not that bad, is it?” Andrea opened her eyes and looked at the redhead’s face, seeing a deep sadness there. “Stop it.”
“Stop what?”
“Stop blaming yourself for this. It’s not your fault.”
“But don’t you see? It is all my fault. I’m a cop and I should be able to protect you. Your mother was right…”
A small hand rose to a quivering jaw. “You listen to me. Listen, damn it!” Dark eyes roamed over her damaged shoulder, taking in the slowly healing wound. “It’s not that bad. It will heal. All this self-doubt is not the Morgan I know. You are protecting me now and that’s all I need to know.”
“But…”
“No buts Morgan. You are a damned fine cop. What would your dad say hearing you talk like this? He would say stop feeling guilty and do your job.”
“I can’t…”
“Yes you can. You are a strong-willed woman, Morgan O’Callaghan. Don’t let this get the better of you.” Andrea effortlessly captured Morgan eyes with her own, letting the emotion flow between them like waves gently lapping at a distant shore. “I have faith enough for both of us.”
“I’m glad someone has faith in me.” The tall woman leaned in closer to her shorter companion, absorbing the feeling of love and friendship.
“Don’t ever doubt it, Morgan.”
How could she live up to such expectation? To have so much faith in someone. To believe they can do no wrong. To believe so totally to the exclusion of everything else. It was a heady feeling.
“Now, if you’ve looked at my war wound for long enough, I’m getting really tired.” The comment drew a small smile from the redhead. “Ah, that’s better. More dimples less wrinkles, I say.”
Morgan changed the dressing, pleased that the journey had done no lasting damage. “All done.” The whispered words caressed Andrea’s cheek as the tall woman leaned against her. She opened her eyes to see those emerald orbs only inches from her own. “This is going to be harder than I thought.”
“Tell me about it.” Morgan was all in knots. Here they were - together, alone, and incapacitated. A knock at the door broke their reverie. “Come in,” she called.
The curly-haired brunette entered. “Whew. Trying to find a parking spot is harder than giving birth to a litter of puppies.” Morgan’s mind didn’t even want to try to rationalize that strange image. “You two settling in okay?”
“Yeah, thanks.”
“Anything you need?”
“Well, err…”
“What did you have in mind, madam?”
“What is it with this madam? Madam this, madam that. I don’t look that old, do I?” Morgan turned to Andrea for her opinion, scowling when she caught the young woman rubbing her chin in thought. “Cut that out!” she growled.
“You know what you’re problem is, Detective? You are just too easy a mark.” Andrea promised herself to stop teasing the woman, but every time she said something the redhead reacted. She just couldn’t help herself.
“Alright, alright. What was it you wanted?” Cheryl was thoroughly enjoying the banter but she had work to do. She really did like these two and she could see the friendship between them by the easy conversation flowing around her. The dark haired woman studied Detective Sergeant Morgan O’Callaghan. Many things were said about this woman, most of them glowing reports on her spotless record as a police officer and, of course, a lot of speculation about the O’Callaghan family. She wondered how this woman lived under the heavy expectation of being Mickey O’Callaghan’s daughter. Cheryl suspected she herself would have given up long ago if it had been her.
“Are you able to pick up some things for us?”
“Sure, no problem.”
“I’m not taking you away from your duties, am I?”
“Your Captain was gonna call my Captain this morning and explain everything. I’m yours for as long as you need me.”
“Cheryl… I…”
“No need. I’m glad to help a fellow officer… and hopefully two new friends.”
“Sure.” Morgan’s dimples made a rare appearance as she gave the woman a full-fledged grin.
“That goes twice for me. We appreciate all you’ve done for us.”
“My pleasure, girls. Now what is your command, oh wise ones.”
“It seems the counselor here only possesses one pair of jeans.” Morgan lifted the offending material. “Can you track down another pair, a couple of shirts and a sweatshirt?” She sorted through the pile of clothes. “Hey, look what I found.” She lifted the sweatpants to her nose. “Phew!”
“Hey! I wore them the day of the shooting and I didn’t have time to wash them. For some strange reason they wouldn’t let me do the laundry in hospital.”
“So what size, Andrea?” She looked at the label. “Six?”
“Normally yes. If they look a little small, then an eight.”
“Got it?”
“Got it.” Cheryl turned to leave, grabbing the door handle.
“Oh, and can you pick us up something to munch on?”
“Anything in particular?”
“Oh, I dunno. Crisps, chocolate bars, whatever. Here.” Morgan reached into her pocket extracting money to give to Cheryl. “If that doesn’t cover it, just let me know. Oh, and get a receipt for Accounting…”
“Oh God. I could be a while. Anything else?”
“No thanks, Cheryl. We’re both going to lie down for a while. Here’s the key. Just let yourself in when you get back and wake me up before you go.”
“Okkaaayy.” Cheryl gave them a funny look.
“What?” Morgan looked to Andrea who just smiled back. “What?”
“See you then.” Cheryl left, giving them both a saucy wink as she disappeared out the door.
“What? Will someone tell me what is going on?”
“Nothing, Morgan. Nothing at all.” Andrea patted her arm as if she were talking to a five year old. Perhaps in matters of the heart she was doing just that.
“Why are you teasing me?”
“Look, I’m just too sore and tired to argue. Where are those pills the doctor gave you?”
Morgan reached for the bag, extracting the bottle. “So it’s okay for you to tease me, but when I complain you fall back on ‘I’m too tired’. That’s a bit one-sided, don’t you think?”
“Can we discuss this after a sleep?”
“No! I’m getting sick of being the butt of your jokes.”
“But, honey…”
“No! You’re not going to get around me with ‘honey’. I don’t like it when you tease me.”
“Okay, now I understand that, but why are you getting so defensive about this?”
“I am not getting defensive.”
“Yes, you are. It’s a harmless joke.”
“To you it’s a harmless joke. To me…”
“What? To you… it’s what?”
“Nothing.” The redhead sat there sulking. Things were getting out of hand. “Let’s just drop it.”
“No. I want to know what is bothering you.”
“I said, drop it.” A gentle hand came up to cup her cheek. “Please, Andy, don’t ask.”
“Tell me,” the soft whisper wrapped around Morgan’s heart.
“To you, it’s a joke. To me…”
“Come on, honey, help me here.”
She breathed deeply, hanging on tightly to her dignity. “…to me, it’s my pride. You are making me look incompetent in front of other people, Andy. I can’t take that.”
Oh oh. A kick to the old ego. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to, honestly. I get a laugh and don’t know when to stop. Please…”
Morgan was trying very hard to hold onto her anger but the sight of those guileless eyes looking at her, she melted quicker than chocolate in the noonday sun. “Arrgghh…” She placed the pill in Andrea’s hand, getting up from the bed to get her a glass of water. “You shamelessly manipulate me,” she muttered.
Andrea sat there while Morgan disappeared into the bathroom. What had she done? In her attempt to appear the life of the party she had put a serious dent in what was fast becoming the most important thing in her life. She watched the woman emerge holding the glass of water, her eyes pleading for forgiveness. “I’m so sorry.” Andrea’s voice broke with emotion, her composure slowly slipping away.
“Awww, Andrea, please don’t cry. I’m sorry, it was just a little harmless fun I know that now.” Morgan watched those brown eyes well up, her heart breaking at the distress she could see residing there. “Please, honey, don’t cry. I didn’t mean it. Honestly.”
“Yes, you did, and you were right. I hurt you.” A lone tear trickled down that pale face, intercepted on its journey by a lone finger.
“I’ll live. C’mon, we’re both tired and saying stuff that’s not helping the situation.” She handed over the glass to the blonde, reaching for the Tylenol while Andrea took her pill. Suitably dosed up Morgan reclined on the bed, patting the space next to her in invitation. “Time for some sleep, and when we wake up everything will be better.”
“Promise?” A tiny voice emerged from the small body slowly lowering herself to the mattress.
“I promise. Do you need help?”
A sigh escaped her lips as Andrea finally allowed her weight to sink into the mattress. Gently she shifted around to get comfortable. Oh God, it felt good to just lie quietly and allow the meds to do their work. “Nah, I’m just glad to be not moving.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean.” Morgan felt a hand touch her, reaching for the comfort and warmth of her in a silent plea for forgiveness. She tilted her head sideways to look at the young woman studying her. “It’s okay… really. Everything will be fine.” Lifting the entwined hands, she kissed the back of Andrea’s hand. “It’ll all look better in a couple of hours.”
* * *
Three hours later Cheryl returned to find them exactly how they had fallen asleep, side by side and holding hands. She didn’t want to disturb them but work was calling. “Errr, Sergeant…” She prodded one long leg. “Detective…” Cheryl pushed a little harder. “Morgan.” That did the trick.
“Huh? Wha…?”
“It’s me. You asked me to wake you when I got back.”
“What time is it?”
“Just on midday.”
Noon? They had slept over three hours. “Sorry…” Her sleep-laden voice was slurred, and her thoughts were spiraling out of control. Morgan swung her long legs over the side of the bed, sitting there until her mind cleared. “Oh God.”
“Nope, just me.” Cheryl chuckled at the sight.
Green eyes drifted over the sleeping counselor, taking in the grimacing as she moved. “Ahhh...” A soft moan escaped Andrea’s pursed lips. “Damn…” A dull pain shot through her shoulder, drawing her from her sleep. “What…?”
“I managed to get the stuff you wanted, plus a couple of other items I thought might come in handy.” A cheeky grin broke across the woman’s face, silently intimating that the items could be of a sexual nature.
“Pardon?” Morgan certainly hoped the detective didn’t mean what she thought she meant.
Cheryl reached into the shopping bag, taking out a pack of cards and throwing them on the bed. “There you go.” She laughed loudly at the shocked expression on the two women’s faces. “Oh, and these as well…” She extracted some magazines and books. “That should help the cause.”
“You are incorrigible.” Andrea’s heart was thudding wildly.
“I’ve been told that. Sorry, couldn’t help myself.”
Morgan turned to the counselor. “Are you up to some lunch?” The tiny stomach growled, answering on behalf of the blonde. “I’ll take that as a yes.” She stood up, swaying a moment before her equilibrium returned. “I’m sorry. Room service is all we’ve got.”
“That’ll be more than fine.”
Reaching for the phone, Morgan had a thought. “Cheryl, at least join us for lunch before you return to duty.”
“I don’t know…”
“Hey, I’m your superior officer and I order you to eat.”
“Who am I to disregard a direct order?”
“Wish all my detectives felt the same way…” she muttered.
“Sorry? Did you say something?”
“Nah. Just my smart-aleck remarks, that’s all. Let’s order before the counselor’s stomach goes on the rampage.”
Feedback is always appreciated. You can contact me at aurelia_fan@yahoo.com.au