Chapter 2
After four days of fleeting looks, momentary smiles, and less loitering on the couch than usual, Watson decided that Turner was actively avoiding her. It was quite ironic to her. She spent the last year trying to get him out of her office and away from her, and now that he was actually doing so, she was annoyed by his absence.
There was a feeling of uncertainty that clinged to her every time she got lost in her thoughts and let her mind drift to the night on her porch. She wanted to pretend she didn’t know why he left so unexpectedly, but when she reflected on the day's events, Watson realized Turner didn't just walk away for no reason.
No, there was a method to his madness and it involved the wedding band that circleed his left ring finger.
It made her angry and slightly humiliated, because while she found herself opening up to him more and more, it felt like he was effectively shutting down all their communication. It made her feel like a fool.
She knew he couldn’t let go of what happened, and didn’t expect him to, but she didn’t deny that things had changed between them in the last few months. Words were spoken, looks were exchanged, and most importantly, trust had been earned.
In a very rare and immature manner, Natalie Watson couldn't help but secretly want to stomp her feet and scream at him like a child, telling him to forget the past and focus on the present. Focus on her.
It was heartless to even entertain the thought, but it didn’t stop it from manifesting, which brings with it its own complications of guilt and anxiety, deepening her frown and further agitating her. Suffice it to say, in the last week no one had dared to cross her.
Watson prides herself on being every bit the professional and amicable leader, but not like this.
When the object of her greatest frustrations was so close by yet so far out of reach, no amount of learned composure could conceal the creases in her forehead or the permanent frown etched on her lips.
Her mood only worsened when, on the fifth morning, she checked her email to find a memo from the department head, Victor Rodrigues, stating that a new therapist was assigned to PPB and she was to report to Dr. Barnett at 10 o'clock sharp for an appointment. The notice was brief, to the point, and there was no room for negotiation.
That didn’t mean she had to like it and, when she stepped out of her office and headed toward the coffee pot, not even the red head of hair peeking from the arm of the couch could brighten her mood. This was going to be an hour she wasn’t looking forward to.
"Agent Watson, very nice to meet you," Dr. Barnett greeted her with a firm handshake and a pleasant smile as she motioned toward the brown leather couch. Watson perched herself on the edge of the sofa, no longer feeling comfortable in this room and far more aware of her surroundings.
"So, I understand this is a delicate situation, and I'll try to make the transition as smooth as possible. I'm here to evaluate you and we could call it a day, alright?"
"As long as you don't offer me any sort of beverage, we should be fine." Watson replied and the short, blond woman smiled knowingly.
She flipped open the small notepad on her lap, crossed her legs and focused her dark eyes on Natalie. Psychiatric evaluations were never supposed to be relaxed or routine. They required some edge, some doubt hanging over them, as you asked yourself if perhaps the job had driven you somewhat closer to crazy than you think.
Perhaps it should have tipped her off that her last therapist made her feel too welcome in his office.
"So, Agent Watson, I don't suppose you have anything to share?" Dr. Barnett broke through Watson's reverie and she had to smile. This woman had the perfect combination of hardness and aloofness in her voice and she didn’t appear to take a lot of crap. Watson shrugged.
"Tell me about your team."
"What about them? They're a great group of hard workers."
"What about Eric Turner? How had your relationship changed since he shot a suspect in your office?"
"It hadn't." She was quick to reply and she supposed that it alerted the therapist even more.
It went downhill from there. For the next half hour, Watson dodged questions about her attitude towards Turner's work ethic and seeming disregard of PPB's rules and protocol. She had to defend her position several times; giving examples of why Turner works as well as he does with her team specifically.
Watson isn't stupid; she knows why Dr. Barnett chose this seemingly irrelevant topic of conversation as a start off point. She tried in a roundabout way to get Watson to open up, but it hadn't worked at all. It was a valiant effort but it just pissed her off, enough that she stormed from the shrink's office after the blond woman dared to ask a question that ran too deep and too personal.
"Does it strike you as strange that Mr. Turner, having never handled a gun, didn't hesitate shooting a man with a firearm to save your life?"
It wasn't fucking strange, Watson wanted to argue, it wasn't supposed to be anything, but simply denying that that day didn't matter and didn't alter things between them wouldn't make it any less true. However, some over qualified and over paid psyNganalyst in a fancy suit didn't need to know that. Watson almost feels justified in her hadty exit.
Manny Barnes was halfway through a box of case files when he looked up and let out an inadvertent "uh oh", garnering the attention of his four coworkers. "Here comes Watson and she doesn’t look happy," the analyst murmured under his breath.
The closest to him was Leslie Cranston and the two watched Watson as she stormed through the hall and into her office, slamming the door. The two civilian staff members looked at each other.
"Where was she?" Leslie wondered aloud.
Ng was about to respond, but the readhead dozing leisurely on the couch beat him to it.
"New shrink assigned to the department, today was her first session." Turner explained with a noticeable frown.
He was caught in a difficult situation. She knew he was avoiding her.
Thus, by intruding on her personal space after five days of limited interaction he ran the risk of pissing her off even more than any shrink could. Yet, as she raced passed him, he caught a whiff of something other than the floral scent of her perfume and apparent frustration. Whatever happened during her session, it left Watson feeling vulnerable and exposed at work and that wasn't a good sign.
Anything that challenged the professional image she tried so hard to build over the years launched all her defenses. Considering the attack on her credibility just the week prior, Turner knew that any personal issues they may have could wait. He made the decision to move the rock and break out of the hard place and was in her office before Watson could take her jacket off.
"What do you want, Turner?" She hissed as soon as he walked in, "I'm not in the mood."
"You and Meredith got off on the wrong foot?"
Watson ran a tired hand over her forehead. Of course, he was already on a first name basis with that harpy.
"You could say that." She mumbled, opening her desk drawer and rummaging for a bottle of aspirin.
"Don't." He motioned with his hand.
"Didn't they teach you in the academy not to take any meds on an empty stomach?"
"How did you-…”
Her voice trailed off, realizing once again that over the last week, she really did forget that Turner had psychic abilities. "Nevermind," she mumbled, trying to pretend she didn’t notice the flash of concern in his blue eyes.
"What do you want? Seriously, it's not even noon yet and I'm already in a pissed off mood, anything I could help with?" she asked. Here, behind closed doors, with only his warm blue eyes cataloging her every glance and action, she might feel more exposed. She had come to realize, regardless of her desires, that she trusted Eric Turner. He made her feel safe even when she didn’t want to admit it.
"Just concerned for you, that's all. I couldn't imagine how it must feel to have another psychiatrist analyze you so soon after what happened."
His honesty surprised her. She wasn't expecting him to admit that he was checking up on her. She waited for a playful comment or a double-edged compliment, and here he was, leaning with his elbows on his knees, very much the worried man he admitted to being.
His expression softens her immediately, "Its fine, I've learned that shrinks and I don't get along."
"How could anyone?" He replied, earning a small smile from her. Their eyes met and she caught her breath just barely enough to notice.
Blue eyes on green eyes as they battle it out, with every passing second, wondering if perhaps they've strained this for far too long. She wanted to speak up and reproach him for his childish manners. She wanted to demand an explanation for why he seems to already be putting the brakes on this, on whatever this could be.
Watson has never really been the confrontational type in her personal life; therefore, she remained silent, challenging him with her deducing green eyes, trying to exude a power over him she wasn't sure she possessed.
When it seemed like he was just about to crack, maybe just a little, there was a sharp knock on the door and she was forced to concede. Rodrigues poked his head in without invitation, already frowning when he notices Turner's presence.
His eyes strain on Watson and she stiffened in her seat, knowing what is about to come, but the older man didn’t even flinch.
"There's a new case, gather your team for briefing in conference room A," Rodrigues informed, before slamming her door none too gently. He knew her meeting with Dr. Barnett didn't go so well, but at least the blond woman hadn't told on her, or better yet failed her on her evaluation.
She'll probably have to thank her for that later, but for right now, Watson focused her attention on Turner once more. He was already at his feet, as if glad for the interruption, but for her it's another extension, another miserable deterrent to the outcome of this game they are playing.
He didn’t say anything, but when she walked out of her office, he held the door for her. It was as if an understanding passed between them. His blue eyes promised that they will talk later and Watson conceded again. She could't help but fix him with a long, hard look cautioning him not to disappoint her this time.
She walked ahead of him, motioning her team to follow her, and tried very hard to ignore the butterflies fluttering in her stomach as she felt a dark cobalt gaze of appreciation follow her every move.
She's not fond of office gossip, mostly because it isn't very professional and because she'd been on the receiving end of it just a few days ago. However, a part of her was curious as she overheard Barnes and Cranston whispering by the coffee machine.
"Anything interesting?" She interrupted quite rudely and two jumped apart from each other as if they were on a spring. Watson took a bite out of the apple in her hand and Ngmped loudly for annoyance.
Ng would say Turner's obnoxiousness was rubbing off on her, but she knew her staff could see through her playful facade.
She was only joking, but the two looked positively flushed, as if she caught them making devious plans to pursue an in-office romance right under her nose. "Nothing, excuse me" Cranston made a quick escape, walking back to her desk. Barnes narrowed his eyes, positively livid for being abandoned.
Watson relaxed in the tall man's presence, assuring him with her smile that she meant no harm, "I'm only joking. Just thought I'd catch up on my gossip, what's the latest?"
She poured coffee into a ceramic cup, hoping it wouldn’t taste as vile as it usually does, when she felt the tension radiate off Barnes in waves. "Come on, I'm not that scary," she teased and Barnes was quick to concur.
"Yeah, it's not about you. We just sort of found out something about Turner, kind of surprising."
Her hand paused next to the creamer, "Oh?"
She tried to appear nonchalant, but even Barnes could see through it, "Uh, yea, he put his house up for sale." Suddenly the hot wave of realization and subsequent shame coated her cheeks. She felt the air get stuffy around her, but thanked her well-trained composure for the maintained air of disinterest.
"Oh really, that's uh, some news." She murmured, and before anyone could call her on her bullshit, she disappeared back in her office. Her body felt heavy as she dropped into her chair, coffee and apple both forgotten, as she sat staring off into space.
She felt disappointed. Not in Turner, but in herself, for doubting him.
The man she thought was pushing against her, shutting her out, was just doing the exact opposite, and she's been too self-involved and uninterested to care.
He was taking a step forward while she assumed that he was taking a step back and all of the sudden, she feels like she failed him for not pushing for an explanation and choosing to act juvenile instead.
The urge to cry overwhelmed her to the point that she had to take a deep breath, straining for clarity as much as for oxygen, trying to figure out when she lost sight of the bigger picture. This went beyond her petty insecurities or his thirst for vengeance. This was about healing, and no matter what goes on between them outside this office, she had to show him that he could count and rely on her.
She knew Turner will fight her every step of the way.
However, she's Natalie Watson and she certainly never backed down from a challenge.
Game on.