Participants:
Scene Title | Many Things Unsaid |
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Synopsis | Many things are not said aloud between the two psychically-linked detectives as they discuss their plans for the evening — plans that are suddenly altered on Cassidy's end by her empathic connection with Mortimer. |
Date | July 3, 2009 |
The New York Police Department Head Quarters is an old stone building, renovated many times over the years. The plaster walls are not as cracked and in need of repair as the various Precinct buildings around the city. The fluorescent lights give the room a rather sterile glow. Old posters, civic reminders, duty rosters and newspaper clippings are tacked up on the walls, rustling every time one of the doors opens. A high, wooden desk sits on the north wall, manned by two clerks, who records all visitors and arrests.
The way out to the street lies to the south, while doors to the offices of the Head Quarters lie to the northwest.
I cannot wait for next week to end. There's no point in verbalizing much at this point. While the police work twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, most of the standard office workers leave come evening, leaving only those who have to work there at that time, people whose shifts don't end until night shift begins. Very few of the cubicles of desks are occupied, so what's the point in talking?
It's so much easier to do the job, or even the post-case paperwork, when they're actually out there do things — being handcuffed to a desk changes everything and makes all work seem completely pointless. Coren has literally run out of things to do and the only thing that has kept him twiddling his thumbs is Cassidy, since she's managed to find herself some work that still needs doing. Naturally, he's offered to help, despite knowing that she'd refuse. Having concern is one thing, doing everything for her goes over the line.
You and me both. Cassidy grumbles mentally, trying to type up the last of the report she's working on so she can go home. She had plans to crawl into bed and pass out, the mental strain from the mother and son earlier had surprised her. Normally she doesn't get hit like that. Glancing across to Coren, she arches a brow. What are you going to do when I go home? A small smile touches her lips. Since you won't have me to drive crazy? Clicking save… she pushes her chair back away from th desk and sighs happily. All done.
Though more the mother than the son.
It's far less strange when we're physical near than apart. I can still drive you crazy from my own apartment, Coren teases. "When you go home, I go home," he says. "Not sure what I'll do once I'm there, but I'm sure I can find something to do. Then again, the curfew's been rolled back to give people a whole hour and a half more time out, maybe I'll go out and get a drink."
No oogling the asses of the tenders. Giving him a pointed look, she's been working hard to wipe certain things from her brain for him. Rolling close to her desk again, she starts powering down the computer. "I should hopefully passed out… by… then." She trails off as something tickles at the back of her mind. She's learned not to try and concentrate on it, cause it doesn't work. Brows lower as she closes her eyes and tries to ignore Coren's mental chatter.
Just as she decides to give up on it, fear clutches at her stomach making her gasp. Then rage rolls through her. All her partner would get from her is confusion and curiosity. Another slap of cold fear makes her stand from her seat suddenly. "Mortimer!"1
He almost has a mental retort ready regarding his 'oogling' of bartenders' asses when she goes quiet. Her trailing off like that concerns him, as does her mental confusion, and so Coren stands up and comes around his desk to hers and stands behind her chair. "What's wrong?" he asks quietly, only to be answered in the same instant, with her standing suddenly and almost knocking him back. Keep it down. He stands on his tiptoes and looks towards the other cubicles of desks. They're mostly deserted, and the few people who still seem to be around in their section apparently didn't notice. What about Mortimer?
She waves a hand behind her, telling him so shush as she tries to catch more. He's scared… So… Angry..Rage. Suddenly, Cassidy gets an overwhelming feeling of worry and helplessness. // Something it wrong… something is very wrong.// Turning towards her partner she passes on the sensations from Mortimer. Suddenly the sensations are gone… just.. cut off.
Cassidy moves closer to her partner, her words echoing her mind as she whispers, "Something happened to him." A hand lifts to grip at the front of his shirt. "Not sure what…" This thing with us…. it's not the same with him, I can only feel Mortimer's emotions. The emotions she experienced runs though her mind and of course Coren's. "I… I need to find him."
And he doesn't really want to feel them, but gets them anyway. He shakes his head, but they're gone already. When Cassidy moves closer, Coren lays a hand behind Cassidy's head and pulls her closer until they're touching. "You just need to think a little bit first, luv. It's not going to be easy to find him one way or the other." Of course, the first thing they need to know is where he'd usually be — Staten Island — but where upon it, any contacts that might be able to reach him. Would be useful if he had a phone.
When pulled close, Cassidy closes her eyes and takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. I haven't heard from him since he showed up the night of the explosion. Worry eats at her stomach, making her feel a touch nauseous. He doesn't answer the number I have for him… She pulls back enough that she can look at Coren. "Your right… but… What would you do if it was me or Abby?" Maybe it is a bit of a lower blow then she meant, but the point is still there. Course, her it's easy… follow the pull.
It is a low blow. He's being asked to show concern for someone, well, Cassidy knows what Coren thinks of Mortimer. He lets out a bit of a sigh and stops embracing her. The last thing they need is for someone to see them touching — God forbid the sorts of rumours that would come from that. "Come on, I'll bring you home." There's not much we can do. The weather's miserable and it probably wouldn't be too smart for either of us to go over to Staten Island without a plan of some kind — something to work with at any rate.
Steppng back as well, Cassidy nods her cheeks slightly pink. Damn that link sometimes… "Yeah, home is good." Thank you… and.. I'm sorry. That was shitty of me. Resting her hands on the back of her char, she pushes into place. He was so worried and felt helpless.. She moves to head out, pausing to wait for him to catch up. I'm not going to be able to sleep well tonight.
Coren leads away from their cubicles and to the stairs. No point in taking an elevator down only one floor. So you're just going to worry all night, or are you actually going to do something about it? It would seem that, while he may not care much for Mortimer — if he cares anything at all — that doesn't stop him from having a certain amount of respect for people and their well-being.
"I have no idea where to start." Cassidy says out loud as she makes her way down the stairs. The Locos according to him were disbanding.. and I never saw any of the guys faces. She pauses at the bottom of the stairs and looks at him Only thing I can thnk to do is go to Staten.. but why would he be there. Glancing over at the desk sergeant, she realizes that while her expression are changing there are no words.. so she gets a look. Shit.. She lifts a hand in farewell to everyone there, making for the door.
Which would be pointless, since we wouldn't know where to look anyway. Yes, Coren says — well, thinks — 'we.' It's a big island. When they near the desk sergeant, Coren gives him a comical salute before walking alongside Cassidy outside the door. "Guy doesn't like me, anyway," he offers as explanation. He looks at his watch, "It's seven past eight. Neither of us are going to sleep well tonight. We need a drink."