Possessing Morgan:
A Matter of Conviction
by Aurelia
Part 6
See Part 1 for Disclaimers
Chapter 6
Everything was flowing smoothly for now and there was a lull in her heavy schedule, which meant she had no more excuses to push aside paperwork. Morgan watched the clock on the wall tick slowly by, silently willing it to move.
Files were liberally scattered over her desk, active cases that needed her attention if even for a moment. She just couldn’t work up the energy to delve into the intricacies involved in many of them. Sighing deeply, she opened the top drawer for a pen and found an American Express application form. Chuckling, she lifted out the brochure and looked over at Henry, who smiled back at her. God bless him.
She opened the form, carefully studying its contents. Why did she have this undeniable urge to get a credit card? As she absently drummed the pen against the desk, Morgan didn’t notice the door at the other end swing open. Andrea strode in, mug in hand, heading to the coffee maker for a refill.
“Why didn’t you come and find me?” The low murmur made her jump in her chair. Some cop she was turning out to be. Three times today people had gotten the drop on her, scaring a number of very useful years off her life. Her head dropped, banging the desk quite loudly. “Are you alright?” Andrea stood there, hot mug in hand, looking at the collapsed form of the tall detective.
“It’s nothing. People keep scaring the crap outta me today, that’s all.” Morgan looked up to the petite glasses perched on that pert nose, the rims brushing rosy cheeks and kissing Andrea’s tiny mole. She couldn’t stop the patter of her heart while looking at that beautiful face, sadly acknowledging her fate. She looked at the clock on the wall. ”You’re back early.”
“The last case ended up a no-contest. The defendant changed his plea and the case was over. I was just doing some research while waiting for you.” Andrea spotted the top of the brochure peeking out from the top of Morgan’s head. “What are you doing?”
As Morgan lifted her head, the glossy paper stuck to her damp skin. Pulling it gently, she could feel the suction as it came away brushing her facial hairs. “Oh, just something I was thinking about.” She held it up, her attention drawn to the astonished look on the young blonde’s face. “What?” She looked at the paper, wondering had caused such a reaction. “You don’t like American Express? I know the rates are pretty high…”
“When…” Andrea swept a shaking hand over her brow. “When did you decide to apply for that card?”
“Ahhh, this morning, in fact. Henry must have picked it up on his lunch hour.”
The counselor put down her coffee, the hot contents sloshing over the side onto her hand. She rather clumsily sat down in the chair opposite Morgan, looking a bit pale.
The detective, unaware of Andrea’s reaction, simply continued on. “I had some dream about jimmying a lock with an American Express card.” Morgan glanced at the application form. “It’s silly really. I don’t even need it but I have this urge to get one.” There was more to that dream but she wasn’t going to voice it… to anyone. “’Don’t leave home without it.’ Isn’t that what they used to say? How long ago was that ad? Karl Malden wasn’t it? Geez, I’m showing my age…” Morgan knew she was rambling on but it was better than what was sitting on the tip of her tongue.
The counselor had gone quiet, which was unusual for her. Morgan had realized rather quickly that Andrea was rather effusive when it came to talking. “What... what's wrong? You okay? It's the card? Look, I know the interest rates are enough to disturb anybody.”
With that, Morgan threw the brochure into the waste paper basket, not once looking at it. But then she began to think about it. An American Express card and the counselor. Hauntingly erotic images from her dream flashed through her mind’s eye. Images that she had no excuse for thinking about at work.
“Oh no, no, no. Don’t mind me. I, ahhh... I'm fine really and, ah, I have nothing, ah, against American Express.” But that was a damn lie. She hated American Express and all credit cards in general… she wanted to destroy the item that was making her feel things that she had no right feeling. But that was a damn lie too.
“You’re looking a little pale. Are you sure you’re alright?” The whispered words spoke of concern and the small blonde couldn’t help but make eye contact.
“Yeah, it just took me by surprise, that’s all.” Andrea felt the heat from last night’s dream flow through her. What would it be like to be loved by Morgan? Would reality live up to the dream? Why was she even entertaining the idea?
“What did?” The quick glance to the waste paper basket didn’t go unnoticed. “That? Surprise? How so? Does it have some kind of significance or something?” Morgan knew it did. Even she could see that clearly on the counselor’s face.
More than you know, Morgan. “It just reminded me of something, that’s all. Don’t worry about it.”
“Okay.” She warily eyed the young woman sitting there hyperventilating. “If you say so…”
Andrea could feel her heart react, the thumping steadily increasing in speed and intensity. Just what the hell is going on? She was nearly afraid to continue this conversation. Thankfully, for once, she was saved by the arrival of Morelli. “So, Andy, you coming to McGee’s after work?”
Morgan watched with interest as the counselor’s eyes narrowed in anger at the deliberate use of her nickname. So, I’m one of the select few, eh? “Detective, how many times do I have to tell you my name is Andrea. Don’t make me hurt you.”
“Awww c’mon, Counselor. We’re co-workers here. What’s your problem with a little friendliness? I’m sure that once you get to know me…”
The short Italian seemed slightly miffed at her dismissal of him, but only for a moment, as he vainly plowed ahead with his attempted seduction. This guy was a legend in his own mind and was not going to take no for an answer.
“Hey, Morelli, what part of ‘no’ don’t you understand? She’s engaged to be married, you moron.”
“Well, that’s not stopping you now, is it O’Callaghan?” Morgan felt like she had been slapped in the face. Bright green eyes blinked rapidly in disbelief.
Andrea stood, all five foot three inches of her, and invaded the short detective’s personal space. She’d had about all the attention she wanted from this man and her temper rose to the surface. A small dainty finger poked him in the chest quite hard, thumping constantly as she spoke angrily. “Enough! I’ve taken all the crap I’m going to take from you, Morelli. One more word out of that mouth of yours and I’ll be filing a complaint with the Department. Understand me? Can you say sexual harassment? I can.” She paused for effect, seeing his dark eyes widen in surprise.
“And you owe O’Callaghan here an apology. She has done nothing improper, immoral, or ill-mannered. In fact, out of the entire bunch of you only she and Detective Chang have made any attempt at making me feel welcome here.”
“Hey! Me and the boys welcomed you just fine.” Morelli was now getting defensive.
“’Hi doll’ does not constitute a 'proper' welcome in my book, Detective. In fact, it smacks of condescension. Are all women objects for your personal amusement, Morelli?”
“I’ve never had any complaints before…. Counselor.”
“Well, here’s your first. Try that crap again with me, Mister, and you will live to seriously regret it.” Andrea’s voice had now reached fever pitch, drawing the captain out of his office to watch from his doorway. She looked over Morelli’s shoulder to Markham. "I must apologize for disturbing you, Captain Markham."
“Anything I should be aware of, Counselor?” Andrea looked back into Morelli’s eyes and saw a tinge of fear there.
“No, Captain. I was just telling Detective Morelli here how I have certainly appreciated Sergeant O’Callaghan’s assistance with settling in. She has been a great help to me.”
“Good. Well done, Sergeant. Morelli, where are those financial records of Rose McManus?” With those few well chosen words, Markham re-entered his office.
Andrea’s finger was still poised over Morelli’s heart, ready to strike like a viper if he made one sound. “And you, if you don’t stop all this speculation and innuendo you’ve been passing as gossip about the Sergeant, well she can come and see me and I’ll gladly help sue your sorry ass from here to straight into Christmas.”
“I don’t give a flyin' fuck if she’s straight, gay, trots around with a feather stuck up her ass, if she's a Buddhist or a....a Martian or… a hairy baboon riding in on a burro singing ‘Iy Yiy Yiy Yiy’. Well, maybe that. I can’t stand off-key primates. All that matters is that she’s a decent human being and a damned good cop. And that’s all that should concern you.” Andrea turned to Morgan and looked deeply into vibrant green eyes tinged with emotion. She looked over her shoulder as Morelli moved away. “Oh, and Morelli? Just because a woman is not interested in you doesn’t mean she’s gay. It just shows she has good taste.” The quiet chuckle drew her back to the seated redhead.
Morgan was more than a little surprised. No one had ever stood up for her before, at least not like this and certainly not in such an enticingly small package. She was touched. “Bravo!” Morgan whispered. They looked at one another for a moment. ‘Thank you,’ passed across slightly grinning lips but not a sound was heard. ‘You’re welcome,’ came the silent reply.
The intimate moment had come and gone in the wink of an eye, and it was back to business for Andrea. Friendship business. “So, you gonna take me shopping then?”
“You still want to be seen with me? Brave woman. I told you it was dangerous.”
“I’m prepared to take my chances.” The small woman smiled cheekily at the distraught sergeant. “C’mon, let’s go do what us gals do best.” She could see Morgan’s mind sift through a number of possibilities, a myriad of emotions passing over the pale face. “I’m talking shopping, Sergeant.” She smiled at the silent ‘o’ that formed from those curvaceous lips, soon followed by the rare appearance of those dimples that so enchanted her. Andrea could feel her own smile widen in response and in moments both were grinning like mad women.
“Hang on. Let me see if the captain will let me get out of here a little early.” Morgan looked up at the clock, figuring it was almost time for the shift change.
As the sergeant approached Markham’s office, she seriously doubted he would acquiesce to her request but all she could do was try. Gently rapping on the frosted glass she waited for the bellow. “Come!”
With as much bravado as she could muster Morgan entered, watching the captain as he sat hunched over his desk with masses of paper laid out in front of him. “Ah, Sergeant, just the person I wanted to see.” So much for leaving early. “Bring me up to date with the Vaughan case.”
Morgan sat in the chair opposite her boss, allowing her long legs to extend out in front of her. “Vaughan’s statement should be…,” she looked at her watch, “… signed as we speak. I sent Velasquez over with it, along with a request for blood sample results. Vaughan’s bedside glass of water was spiked. Contents unknown at present. They're working on it.” She thought for a moment. “Let’s see. Statements, fingerprints and GSR have been collected from Vaughan, the wife, the daughter and the delivery boy. The victim’s autopsy is being carried out this afternoon and we should get the report in the morning. The crime lab boys are working their butts off with all the evidence collected. We should start hearing from them soon. Morelli, Lowenstein and Fredericks are running down the various Vaughan financial records. Blake is looking into the victim’s financial dealings, and the others are doing general background checks on anyone involved with the family.”
“That it?”
Morgan hesitated, wondering whether to mention Vaughan’s relationship to the maid. She could not withhold Vaughan’s confession from Markham, sadly acknowledging the fact that his secret was going to come out one way or the other. “Vaughan confided to me today that he is Rose McManus’s biological father.”
The captain’s dark face tightened at the revelation. “This was supposed to be an open and shut case. What happened to that?”
“I dunno, Captain. My gut instinct was telling me something was wrong from the moment I walked into that house.” She looked over to the grumpy face watching her. “Maybe it was indigestion.” The last thing she expected was the roar of laughter from the older man. She had more of an image of him chewing a large cigar between his grinding teeth, his coat long forgotten and his sleeves rolled up his muscular arms, looking very much like a demented rottweiler on steroids.
“Ah, Morgan, you’re just what the doctor ordered.”
Speaking of doctors… “Sir, are you alright? You’ve been acting a little… oh I don't know... strange.... lately.” She watched the smile fade from his face. “What's going on, Captain? I've known you too long. I know something's up.”
“Nothing.” But his face told her more.
“Is there anything I can do?”
“No. Just a little stressed out, that’s all.”
“Is that why you’ve had me lead this case? Cause I gotta tell ya, it’s scaring the hell out of me… sir.”
“It’s nothing to worry about. I just had to have a series of tests and I’m waiting for the results. It’s the not knowing that’s killing me.”
“It’ll be fine. I’ll do my best to hold up my end.”
“I know you will, Morgan, otherwise I wouldn’t have given it to you.” His voice dropped to a mere whisper. “You’ll do fine, Mo.”
Mo? This is serious. She could feel her pulse jump. Delmar Markham had never ever used that name. “Does Delores know? How bad is it?”
“No, I’ve haven’t told her yet. No point in getting her upset until I know something.” Morgan could see he was trying to keep his façade in place, but the strain was telling on him.
“Your secret is safe with me.”
“I know, Morgan. You are your daddy’s girl.” Sometimes being Mickey O’Callaghan’s daughter worked for you and sometimes it didn’t. It was nice that this was one of those rare times when it was a blessing.
She cleared her throat. “Actually, the reason I came to see you was to ask if I could leave a little early.” Markham looked to his watch and gazed at her. “I’m taking the counselor shopping.” Dark eyebrows shot up, nearly invisible on his dark complexion. “She wants to join me and Henry at the gym tomorrow but she’s got nothing to wear. I offered to help her and maybe get her acclimated to the layout of the area.” She was babbling and she knew it, but those dark brown eyes were boring into her, stripping away all her arguments. “The stores will be jam-packed soon and it doesn’t give us much time to get things done.”
Markham sat there allowing the tall detective to squirm under his calm gaze. “You seem to have taken it upon yourself, Sergeant, to make sure the counselor is wanting for nothing.” He watched her eyes drop as he spoke, her breathing catch as his unspoken words wove a web around her deceit.
“Captain, the counselor’s arrival has been met with some hostility, and I am certainly one of those responsible for that. Maybe I’m just trying to ease my guilty conscience.”
“You feel guilty, Sergeant?”
“Yes, sir, I do. My dad would have chewed me out for carrying on like that. Hell, I was ready to flatten that Vaughan woman this morning. I don’t know. Maybe I need a vacation.” Morgan couldn’t remember the last vacation she took. There just didn’t seem to be any point in taking time off when she had nowhere to go, no one to visit and too much time to fill in.
“Which reminds me…” Markham rifled through the mountain of loose papers on his desk finding a single form. “Personnel asked me to remind you that your vacation days have accumulated so much that they can't roll over anymore. They ‘request’ that you rectify this problem as soon as possible. In other words… take a damn vacation, will ya!”
“And where do you suggest I go on this vacation?”
“How about your brothers? You haven’t seen them in a while.”
“NO! That’s not possible.”
“Ahhhh... Okay.” Markham mentally took a step backwards at the barked ‘no’.
“Captain Markham…”
“No, you don’t have to explain.”
“Things are a little… strained between me and my brothers. It’s just for the best to stay away for now.” Yeah, or I might just get arrested for assault.
“Fine, but just get the accumulated vacation time down before Personnel jumps down my throat, okay?”
“But…”
"No, Sergeant, it’s your personal business. You don’t need to explain it to me, alright? Now, back to the counselor. She's a big girl. I'm sure she can take care of herself.”
Morgan finally scraped up the courage to look up to see warm eyes studying her, feeling decidedly naked under his close regard of her. “I’m just helping her out since no one here seems interested.”
“Uh huh.”
“Is there a problem?” Men. Why did they always think something is going on when women get together?
“Me? No problem here, Sergeant. Is there one for you?”
“No, sir.”
“Fine. The shift change is coming in, so I have no objection to you pulling out early. I have a feeling that tomorrow is going to be a very busy day.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you.” Making a quick exit she detoured to the restroom, splashing cold water on her face to remove the blush she could feel beginning to form. Somehow she felt she had lost more ground than she had gained in that meeting.
* * *
“You’re in a big hurry to leave.”
Morgan had just taken her seat and already her partner was in her ear. She looked up at Henry, knowing his curiosity was going to be her downfall. “Yeah, I’ve got an errand to run before the stores close. I’ll catch you tomorrow.”
“Okay then, see ya later.”
At that precise moment Andrea strode through the door, purse in hand. “Ready to go?”
Awww, damn! Morgan couldn’t help herself. She looked. Staring back at her was this shit-eating grin on Henry’s face and an ‘I told you so’ in his eye. “An errand, huh? Uh huh.” She was really beginning to hate that damn phrase.
“If you must know, the counselor here has nothing to wear to the gym tomorrow. I’m just showing her where to buy something. Not that it’s any of your business, buster.” Why was she explaining herself? He wasn’t listening. All he saw was the two of them walking out the door… together.
“Nothing to wear, huh? Now that I’d like to see.”
You ain’t the only one pal. Morgan worked really hard to get that particular image out of her head. She was going to have to hang around while Andrea tried on whatever she decided was appropriate for the gym. Seeing the small blonde in various states of undress was probably not a good idea. Her blood pressure was barely in check now, and seeing the object of her nightly fantasies strutting around in front of her wearing barely nothing at all might bring on an embolism.
The detective pondered all the arguments why she shouldn’t go but it was the one reason why she should go that decided it for her. She had to see her, if for nothing else than to fuel those nightly fantasies. Morgan was caught in her own personal hell, and she was helpless but to feed her agony.
“Just ignore him, Morgan, he’s being childish. He’s pouting because he can’t leave early too.” Morgan followed a few steps behind the diminutive woman, putting as much space between them as she could. A dozen sets of eyes watched them leave - hostile, envious, angry and lustful eyes - all boring a massive hole in her back. She cursed under her breath. Her reputation was shot to hell now. If they had their suspicions before, it was now a confirmed fact as far as they were concerned.
As they stood on the stoop they gasped from the warm air invading their lungs. Andrea could see that Morgan was concerned. “What’s the matter?”
Her eyes slipped past the blonde to the ground, taking in the cigarette butts scattered on the top step. “I think my cover is blown.”
“Ahh. Screw ‘em. If they give you a hard time, come see me and we’ll sue the Department for discrimination.”
“You don’t understand. I have to work with these people. Sue all you like, but they can drive me from a job that I love. They could make it so that I never work as a cop in this city again.”
“But the law is on your side, Morgan.”
“That may be, but if they want to blackball me, then it will happen and the law can't do a damned thing about it. You gotta understand being a cop comes with a whole different set of rules. To belong you have to fit in, to be ‘one of the boys’. You play by their rules. If you don’t, then you pay…”
Andrea saw a deep sadness in those eyes. One large piece of the puzzle slid into place as she studied that strong face, pale lashes touching freckle-kissed cheekbones as pale green eyes looked out over the street.
“Won’t anyone back you up on this?”
Morgan tried valiantly to regain her composure. “Well, Henry is fine. Did you see that look in his eyes?” Andrea nodded. “Sorry. He’s just a romantic at heart. He’s happily married with three great kids. He thinks the whole world should be as happy as he is.”
“Yeah, he’s great. What about the captain?”
“I wasn’t sure about him, but something he said to me before we left makes me think he may be okay. But it’s not him I’m worried about. The Three Musketeers are the ones who can bring me down, and Morelli is just nasty enough to do it. A word here or there and suddenly I’m gonna freeze from the chill.”
“Then we’ll sue him. I can…”
“No! You stay out of this. This has been going on for a long time but he’s never had the evidence to back up his accusations.” Slowly, Morgan descended the stairs, forcing Andrea to follow. She turned to face undemanding eyes. “No more running. You were right. I was ashamed of who I was. Now I fight back.”
“And if he wins?”
“Then I guess I look for a new job.”
“That’s not fair. You’ve done nothing wrong. That's.....that's.....”
“Discrimination? Yeah, it is. It’s not right but it has the habit of winning. I’m only glad Dad 's not alive to see this.”
“I’m sure he’d be very proud of his daughter, Mo,” she whispered. Andrea laid her hand on her friend’s shoulder, gently squeezing in support and comfort. “Now, come on. Let’s go spend some money.”
* * *
They made good time, finding a good-sized sporting goods store that had a wide selection of workout gear. Now her moment of torture had arrived. Sitting outside the booth as Andrea tried on different items Morgan could hear the swish of material as it slid over skin. Her throat bobbed nervously as her mind shifted to those fantasies that had been carefully hidden away in the deep corners of her mind. This was sheer agony. Her sensitized hearing picked up every whisper, snap and zip that escaped the dressing booth.
“So, what do you think?”
Morgan was terrified to look yet nearly snapped her neck in an effort to see. Oh, God. There she stood in a hot-pink leotard that molded perfectly to her tiny body. Sweat broke out on her skin as Morgan's body temperature soared. Electrical synapses in her brain quickly scanned, analyzed and stored the information in mere nano-seconds. The image of Andrea would never be the same, for Morgan now knew it all.
“Do you really want me to answer that?”
“Why? What’s wrong with it?” The counselor turned around, trying to look at her butt as she turned.
The redhead was mesmerized. Perfect. Absolutely perfect. Morgan watched the play of back muscles as Andrea tried to find an imperfection. Lustful green eyes couldn’t help but search out the tight ass of this compact woman, lightly muscled and well rounded. She had never seen such a fine ass as the one that was filling her vision right now. She was doomed.
“Absolutely nothing, Counselor.” Andrea sensed the rough edge on that statement and looked up into deep green pools filled with longing. Oh… Andrea had to admit that she rather liked the effect she was having on the tall redhead, her own eyes slipping over the tall form sitting negligently on the plastic chair.
She stared intently at the seated woman, trying to use her X-ray vision to look past the brushed cotton pants to those impossibly long legs that were sprawled out in front of her. Her dark eyes skimmed up the pants to her juncture, wondering silently if she were a true redhead. What a stupid question. The mass of deep orange-russet hair atop her head was real alright. No one could get that sort of color from a bottle. Besides, the spattering of freckles all over her was a dead giveaway. Again her eyes slid further, taking in the checkered shirt and dark blazer and wondering what lay underneath. Andrea had never thought of a woman in this way before, so why was she wondering now?
“Ahem…” Andrea jumped and looked down into amused jade eyes. “See something interesting?”
“Ah… err… sorry.” Oh Lord, take me now! Andrea was mortified. Morgan stood and her long finger tipped the small woman’s chin up so she could not turn away.
“Don’t be, Andy.” Morgan dropped her voice on that name and there was an answering shudder. “I’m flattered. Very flattered.” She took one step closer, moving into Andrea’s comfort zone, hearing a ragged breath escape the smaller woman. Unable to help herself Morgan's eyes slipped lower, taking in the outline of breasts and distended nipples that stood out proudly from the lycra. A gentle smile touched her lips at the thought that the counselor was not immune to her.
“I have one suggestion though. Don’t wear pink.”
“Why… why not?”
“You’re gonna draw a whole lot of attention to yourself wearing that… Counselor.”
To reinforce that statement, Morgan looked deeply into those dark eyes, letting Andrea see in no uncertain terms how she felt. She sensed more than she heard the gasp, the disrupted air flowing over her face.
“I will? Is something wrong with it?”
“Nothing’s wrong, it's just that you’re in it and that’s enough.”
“Sweet talking me, are you?”
“Not at all. Just stating the facts, ma’am.”
“The facts… right.” Andrea eyed the redhead, trying to gauge her sincerity. Was it truly a compliment or was she just pulling her leg?
“Fine. Don’t believe me, but don’t complain when the guys start hooting at you.”
“Oh, come on. That’s not going to happen.”
“If you say so.” Morgan had the annoying habit of silently asking more questions that answering them.
“What would you suggest then, Detective?” The whisper could barely be heard. The store had been quiet and they had been left alone to do their shopping except, of course, for the store video, which Morgan was sure must be getting an eyeful.
She stepped back, critically eyeing her companion, rubbing her chin in thought. “Well, let’s see. Maybe a nice ski suit would work, or a bulky sweater and baggy pants.”
“Ah, that’s good for exercising, huh?”
“No, but it’s a lot easier on my blood pressure.”
“Ha ha. Seriously, what should I wear? What do you wear?”
“Me? I wear a tank top, shorts or sweats.”
“That’s not very feminine.”
“Feminine? Me? No, but practical. I don’t prance around, Andy, I fight.”
After much arguing, searching and trying on, Andrea settled on a couple of leotards in subdued colors and modest cut, although she snuck in the pink one without Morgan watching. Before the store closed, she also bought a tank top, shorts and sweats, tennis shoes, and at Morgan’s insistence, a decent sports bra. It seemed the woman had a thing about bras.
* * *
Andrea joined Morgan on the sidewalk, shoving the store receipt and her much abused credit card into her purse, while Morgan juggled the shopping bags. “So, now what?”
“Let’s get you home.”
Andrea looked at the bustle of the city, a flowing mass of humanity trying to get home in the peak-hour rush. “No, it’s too early. How about we get some dinner?”
“Dinner? Is that a date, Counselor?” Morgan kept her voice light, but the intent was deadly serious.
“A date? Well, ma’am, I am engaged to be married. That would be highly improper.” The words said one thing, but the sly smile held a hint of humor, taking the sting out of the statement. “Where would you suggest? I suppose McGee’s is out. How about Monkeyshines?”
Morgan looked around to get her bearings. “Nah, something a little nicer. There’s somewhere nearby that I think you would like.”
“Then lead on McDuff…”
Feedback is always appreciated. You can contact me at aurelia_fan@yahoo.com.au