A
Sense Of Wonder
Suisan "Sue" R.
Rating:
G/PG-13
Warnings:
Loosely based on an actual experience of the author. (See notes at end of tale.) Yes, due to the story plot line being
based on Real Life, there be a Mary Sue (how quaint) of an OFC contained within
the story. Story has also turned
into something of a 'prequel' to my Nye series… (How in the hairy heck did THAT
happen?) But knowing that series is not required to understand this
story.
Feedback:
Always welcomed, but please, since I warned you of a OFC Mary Sue, don't bother
to complain about her if you read the story. <G>
Now,
on with the yarn…
A
Sense Of Wonder
The young woman,
dressed in hospital scrubs, climbed out of her beat up Ford Tempo. After standing beside the driver's side
door a few seconds, she grabbed her purse from the backseat and walked into the
building across the road from where she'd parked. To reach the sidewalk on the opposite
side of the street, she had to jump the overflowing gutter, which had flooded
from the recent downpour.
She had no sooner
reached the relatively dry sidewalk when a speeding taxi hit the flowing water,
sending a wave of dirty rainwater through the air. She managed to avoid having her clothes
doused, but her shoes weren't so lucky.
After sending some very ugly thoughts towards the unthinking driver, she
entered the main lobby of the Cascade Police Department. Pulling her purse higher on her
shoulder, she approached the information desk and waited for the uniformed
officer there to notice he had a customer.
After two minutes of
waiting patiently, she decided she was being ignored and quietly cleared her
throat.
The officer,
startled, dropped the book he was reading on the desk and looked up at her. "Sorry about that. How can I help you,
miss?"
"Where I can find
Detective Sandburg?"
"He's probably in
Major Crime. Seventh floor." He stood to point towards a bank of
elevators down a long hallway, just past a metal detector. "Take one of those to seven and you'll
come out right outside their offices.
I just need you to sign in before you go up." He handed her a
clipboard.
After filling out
the required information, the woman handed the board back to the officer.
"Thanks, give me
just a minute and I'll get you a visitor's badge."
She couldn't see
what he was doing, but the distinctive sound of fingers clattering over a
keyboard gave her a rough idea.
That, plus having worked as a dispatcher for King County right out of
High School, told her the officer was probably running her name through the
NCIC/Washington State Crime Files computer -- looking for warrants, warnings and
to see if she had a clean driver's record.
As promised, he smiled a few seconds later and handed her a laminated
visitor's pass on a plastic neck chain.
"Here you go, Ms. Radclyffe."
Slipping the ID card
over her head, she nodded and walked over to the metal detector and the officer
seated beside it. "Hiya, Doug. They got you doing scut work?" She handed her purse to the man and
walked through the machine's portal.
"Hey, Michelle! Long time. What'cha doing here?" Hefting her purse, Doug smiled at her.
"Any thing in here I should know about?"
"Just my bandage
scissors, a few batteries, my hemostats that I use when I'm smoking pot and the
AMD .45 I'm planning on using to shoot anyone who looks at me funny."
"Cute, Michelle,
real cute." He handed the purse
back to her without looking inside.
"Who you here to see?"
"Detective
Sandburg."
"Oh, Ellison's
partner. Uh, you're not in any
trouble are you?"
"No. Just touching base with an old
friend."
Doug shrugged. "Must have known him when he was at the
University."
"Yeah, I did." Seeing other visitors approaching the
metal detector, she waved at Doug and walked quickly toward the elevators,
hoping to get one before the others could join her. She was lucky. The right hand elevator opened up
immediately and proved to be empty.
Slipping inside and hitting the "7" button, she sighed in relief when the
doors closed and the car started to move upward.
*~*~*
James Ellison
finished putting the final touches on his latest "saw criminal, caught same"
report when he noticed that Blair was starting to stand up from his chair, his
eyes glued on something outside the bullpen while an odd mix of happiness and
sorrow crossed his face. "Chief,
what is it?" Jim followed his
partner's gaze and couldn't help but notice the tall, dark haired, white clad
woman walking in the door of Major Crime.
"You know her?"
"Yeah. Michelle! What brings you downtown?" Blair had slipped around his desk to
approach the woman and, surprisingly, didn't hug her.
"I need to talk with
you, Professor." Her hazel gaze
flitted around the crowded bullpen. "Somewhere private?"
The hackles on Jim's
neck stood up. Something about the
way the woman was acting, and the tone of her alto pitched voice, was
disturbingly familiar.
"Sure. Not a problem. Jim, I'll be in the break room if you
need me. Come on, Michelle."
He watched as his
guide walked the woman across the hall, his hand fluttering near, but not quite
touching, the small of her back.
Positive that what he was about to do wasn't ethical, Jim threw caution
to the winds and let his sensitive hearing track his friend as the door to the
break room closed. Blair still had
a tendency to attract trouble and something was screaming inside of his mind
that this woman might just be that.
Trouble with a capital T-R-O-U-B-L-E.
*~*~*
Blair gestured for
his visitor to seat herself at the table. "Can I get you anything to
drink?"
She placed her purse
on the floor. "No, I'm okay. I just
really need to talk to you."
"Okay." He slid into a chair across from
her. "What's going
on?"
"I remembered how
you helped me, back in school, with my… well, my freaked out senses and…"
It was clear to him,
she was nervous about something.
"Mysh, you having trouble again?"
Her only answer was
to bite her lower lip and nod her head.
"Which one? Smell, touch or hearing?" Michelle had been one of the few
students he'd studied with three heightened senses when doing his research for
his Master and Doctorate papers.
Hearing was elevated, but not to 'sentinel' levels, her sense of touch
was at the same rank. But it was
her sense of smell that had amazed him, and her, when it tested out to extremely
high magnitudes. However, she paid
a severe price for that heightened sense -- even the smallest hint of scent
could send her running for the nearest trashcan, especially if it was
particularly foul, and she'd suffered from severe headaches if bombarded for too
long of a period with certain odors.
"It's scent. I'm working at Cascade General, as a
Surgery Prep nurse, and I got a hit earlier today. It was so weird and yet so natural that
I didn't stop to think about what I said, just kinda blurted it
out."
"What
happened?" The term 'hit' was
almost a code word between them, meaning that Michelle had used one, or more, of
her senses unwittingly.
"You ever see the
inside of the OR?"
"Yeah, oh man… Don't tell me you actually smelled a
disease or something." One of her
major complaints while in Nursing School had been the times when she could smell
the decay caused by various forms of cancer or other wasting diseases and
couldn’t convince the teaching nurses or even the doctors to follow up on what
she told them.
"No, it wasn't
anything like that." Her eyes met
his as she folded her hands on the table in front of her. "I smelled the
rain."
"What?" Blair was startled. Surgery suites, like the ones at Cascade
General, were isolated from the rest of the hospital by positive air pressure
and used their own environmental plants with 'air scrubbers' to ensure that
nothing got into the rooms while an operation was in progress. It was a safety precaution -- a way to
make sure that no airborne microbes or other possible infectious matter could
make its way into the open incisions of the patients. The idea that Michelle could have
possibly picked up the rain outside the hospital while in such a closed
area…
"I know, it's really
weird. And I made the mistake of
saying it was raining in front of several witnesses, all of whom knew I hadn't
been outside since nine-thirty this morning."
Reaching into his
shirt pocket, Blair pulled out his notepad and a pen. "No, it's not weird. This is really cool. Tell me the whole incident and, if you
can, give me the names of the people who witnessed this." Michelle started talking, pausing every
now and then to spell out a name, while Blair did his best to keep up with her
verbal report.
*~*~*
Jim found himself
relaxing as he listened to Michelle Radclyffe talk to Blair. He'd learned her name when he'd called
down to the desk duty officer and asked for the information about who was
visiting his partner. The woman
wasn't trouble after all. Far from
it, she was one of the research subjects that his partner had studied and helped
long before he had met one uptight, scared-out-of-his-wits detective. Every now and then one of Sandburg's
former 'guinea pigs' would come forward, seeking his advice or assistance in
dealing with their one or two out of whack heightened senses.
The last one had
been about three months ago. A wine
taster from the Napa Valley area had sought Blair out because he felt he was
losing his ability to detect even the most minute traces of fruits that made
wines so special. Sandburg had
worked with the man for two days solid, testing with varying amounts of pure
fruit juices in the most miniscule quantities until the man was reassured that
he was just tired of wine and that his sense of taste was just as acute as it
had been.
Now this woman had
come forward, worried that she'd managed to screw up somehow and reveal herself
as something she wasn't. A few
lines of the conversation between Blair and his visitor Jim had overheard almost
made him smile.
"Doctor
Mertz didn't mean anything by it, I'm sure, but he asked if I knew you and if
*I* was the 'real sentinel' you had wrote about in your book. I assured him that I wasn't, that while
I have a pretty acute sense of smell, I'm just a normal
nurse."
"Do
you think he believed you?"
"Maybe. But, Blair, I heard a number of people
talking about the incident -- your press conference -- and they all said the
same thing. That if there *were*
such things as Sentinels, they'd be a boon to our society -- no matter what job
they held."
Pushing aside
another report, Jim looked up to see a uniformed County Deputy walk into Major
Crimes. "Hey, Joe! What are you doing down here?" Jim stood up to greet the man, an old
friend from his Academy days.
"Jim." Joe shook his hand while his worried
gaze traveled around the room. "I saw my wife's car outside and, well, got
worried. The duty officer
downstairs told me she'd come up here."
Suddenly it occurred
to Jim where he'd heard Michelle's voice before and why her last name was so
naggingly familiar. "So, you and
Michelle finally tied the knot?"
"Yeah, she let me
chase her for three years before she caught me. Is she up here?"
Jim gestured towards
the break room. "She's there, talking with my partner. You have any idea why she's here?" Joe Radclyffe nodded as he looked
pointedly at the empty chair beside Jim's desk. The detective sat back in his own chair
while the deputy settled into the free seat.
"Yeah, she's been
having some minor trouble at work and, well, if she's here talking with
Sandburg, then something really odd must have happened."
"You could say
that," He noticed how Joe's sharp brown eyes snapped up from his County-Mountie
hat, something akin to fear lurking in their dark depths. "It's nothing serious, Joe, believe
me. Sandburg's good at helping
people when they need it and Michelle sure looked like she needed it when she
came in."
Joe visibly relaxed,
the death grip he had on his hat loosening. "I hope so. I've been trying to work with her as
much as I can, but sometimes her problems are beyond my
understanding."
Sensing that the
deputy needed to change subjects, Jim ventured forth with a little small
talk. "So, have you heard anything
about these residential burglaries we've been having on the east
side?"
*~*~*
Blair had had to
make do with what he'd been able to find in the break room, but after an hour
had passed, Michelle was feeling better about her ability to control her sense
of smell and how to filter out the pungent odors that would assail her from time
to time.
"Thank you so much,
Blair. I really do wish you were
still at Rainier, then we could test my other senses and see if they've
increased in sensitivity like you think my nose has." She stood up, picking her purse up off
the floor and slinging it over her shoulder.
"No problem,
Michelle. I'm just glad I could
help you." Blair escorted her to
the door, but before she could open it, he placed a hand on her arm. "You want me to talk with your
husband? Maybe teach him how to
help you when you need it?"
"Could you? I've tried to explain to him what he
needs to do, but… I guess he still
has a hard time dealing with the idea that I'm 'gifted' in a rather odd
way."
"I understand. Here." He dug up one of his business
cards from his back pocket and handed it to her. "My numbers here at the station, as well
as my pager and cell phone number are listed on there. When you get a chance, have Joe call me
and we'll set up a time to talk."
"Thank you,
again." Michelle placed the card in
her purse then smiled at him. "By
the way, I'm changing jobs next week.
I got tired of being just another faceless nurse in the operating
room."
Blair opened the
door. "Oh? Going back to being a
dispatcher?"
"Nope. Even better. I'm going to be a paramedic with the
Cas-Gen Ambulance service. I just
hope I don't have to pick you up off the streets one day."
"Hey! That's great! I'm sure you'll make a fine medic! Any idea who you'll be partnered with
yet?" They walked towards the
bullpen, neither one noticing how they had drawn the attention of two people in
the office.
"Yes, ever hear of
Garry Metcalf?"
Blair let out a
laugh. "Heard of him? Garry's been
the one paramedic that Jim and I have come to know on a first name basis in our
long association. He's damn
good."
"I know. He helped me study for my
certificate… Ooh!" Michelle let out an uncharacteristic
squeal of joy as she bolted from Blair's side and into the bullpen. Watching through the windows of Major
Crimes, he noticed how she damn near tackled the uniformed county officer
standing next to Jim's desk wrapping herself around the man. Following his former test subject at a
more sedate pace, he heard her exclaim,
"Joe! What are you doing
here? Not that I'm not happy to see you, but aren't you supposed to be on
duty?"
The deputy smiled as
he hugged Michelle. "I took an early lunch. Everything okay now,
Mysh?"
"Just fine,
Joey. On lunch, eh? Do we have time for…"
What ever she had in
mind was lost to Blair's ears as she whispered to her husband, but judging by
the way Jim was trying to hide a bashful blush, his partner (and true sentinel)
had heard her suggestion.
"Sure, honey. Jim, it was nice talking with you. I'll look through the files at the
Sheriff's Office and see if we have anything that comes close to a match on your
cases."
"I appreciate that,
Joe. Any assistance I can get on
this case will be greatly appreciated."
Blair watched as the
nurse, soon to be active duty paramedic, and the deputy left the bullpen, arms
wrapped around each other's waists as they waited for the elevators.
"Now there goes a
very happy man, Chief."
"No kidding. I just hope Michelle never has to pick
him up off the streets."
"What makes you say
that?" Jim was reaching for his
jacket.
Blair realized it
was past time for them to have left for the day. Grabbing up his own jacket, and snagging
up his ever-present backpack -- a hold over from the old days when he'd just
been an observer -- Blair preceded his friend out of the office. "Do you remember Garry Metcalf,
Jim?"
"The
paramedic?" The sentinel pushed the
call button for the elevator, several times in rapid succession, giving Blair
the impression that Jim was anxious to get outside.
"That's him. Michelle Grenfeld -- oops, its Radclyffe
now -- anyway, she's going to be Garry's new partner." The elevator opened up and Blair let Jim
get onboard before he did.
"About time. You think she'll be able to put up with
him?"
"Oh yeah. Garry may have run off every new medic
in Cascade before now, but he's about to meet his match in Michelle. And they have something in common." Blair smiled as he noticed the puzzled
expression on Jim's face. "Two
things actually."
The elevator opened
up in the garage and as Jim stepped out, he looked over his shoulder at
Blair. "Two things, Chief? I mean, I know that Garry's married to a
fellow cop… Are you saying he's got
heightened senses?"
"You listened in,
didn’t you?"
Jim nodded, "I
wasn't sure who she was, but something about her seemed familiar. I didn't put two and two together until
Joe came in looking for her. I
remember when she used to be a dispatcher when I was in Vice. Very calm, never seemed to get rattled
and, most importantly, she never 'lost' one of our people in the field." He followed Blair over to where his blue
and white Ford pickup sat and, after getting in and reaching over to unlock the
passenger side, picked up the conversation again where it'd left off. "But you didn't answer my question,
Chief."
"Yeah, Garry's got
elevated hearing and eyesight. Not
nearly to your level or even Michelle's, but enough to give him fits on
occasion." Blair made a point of
buckling his seatbelt, knowing Jim wouldn't start the truck until he was sure
his guide was as safe as he could be.
Which was a relative thing, considering how Jim drove on occasion. "Anyway, I expect to get a call from
either Michelle or her husband for lessons in how to deal with a
pseudo-sentinel."
"Still helping
others, eh, Chief?"
"You don’t mind, do
you?" Blair was a little
anxious. He'd never asked the
question before, not since the disaster with Alex Barnes, and he was worried
that Jim's answer might not be the one he was hoping for.
"Chief, don't ever
change, will ya?"
"What do you mean,
Jim?"
"Don't ever lose
that desire to help others. Or your
sense of wonder that makes you want to find out all you can about others. It's what makes you a damn good
detective and an even better friend."
"Not planning on it,
Jim. And,
thanks."
"You're
welcome."
Blair smiled to
himself as Jim chose that moment to start the truck and began to pull out of the
parking area. He waited until his
friend had pulled onto the street before asking his next question. "You really don't mind me helping others
like Michelle?"
"Nope. Not any more. I learned my lesson, years ago, and I
listen when The Shaman Of The Great City speaks."
Sandburg's stomach
picked that moment to let out a rumble of protest and both men started to laugh
as Jim pulled the pickup to a halt at a stoplight. "Oh, man!" Blair finally managed to get out between
howls of laughter, "I couldn’t do that again if I'd planned
it!"
"You mean you
didn't?" Jim asked, in mock
amazement. "Well then, this
Sentinel knows just the cure for your rumbling tummy. Your pick, Chief -- Wonderburger
or Dragon Pearl?"
"Depends, whose turn
it is to buy?"
"Yours."
"Dragon Pearl then.
Cause I'm not going to be held responsible for clogging your arteries with all
that unhealthy grease."
*~*~* Done
*~*~*
Author's
Notes:
Okay, I work in a hospital
where many of my senses are trifled with on a daily basis and I tend to ignore
input unless it's really just too overpowering. Except, that all changed
on Wednesday 15 AUG 01...
Working, as I do, in a
"Clean Room" where the air pressure is actually designed to push air out of the
room, I tend only to notice smells that emanate off the instruments which come
down from Surgery to be sterilized by me or my coworker. Usually, these
smells are mildly annoying (such as cleanser residue from when the instruments
were washed) all the way up to really disgusting -- like when the Surgical
Technicians didn't get all the body fluids rinsed out of the Stryker Shaver.
Any way, I'm back in
the Clean Room, wrapping up some suture sets from the evening's activities in
the Emergency Room when it hits me -- rain. I actually smell the clean
fresh scent of rainfall on warm sidewalks and pavement.
I
made the mistake of mentioning this 'fact' to a coworker, who immediately called
me 'nuts' and accused me of writing too many TS Stories, so we grabbed a couple
of witnesses from another department (we're all located in the basement of the
hospital) and made our way upstairs and outside to investigate. Not only was it raining, pouring
buckets, it had -- according to a couple of witnesses in the ER, including two
paramedics, four doctors and a double handful of nurses -- started raining at
approximately the time I had made my rather 'odd' statement to my coworker.
One
of the ER Doctors looked at me funny when she realized what had happened and
point blank asked me, "Ever think of going into Nursing? Though, with a nose like that, you'd
make a great diagnostician."
Anyway, that got me to thinking and the plot bunnies hopping and the
story you've just read is the result.
Sentinels, if they really and truly exist, *would* be a great boon to
society -- no matter what job position they held.
Suisan "Sue"
R.
PS ~~ A Stryker Shaver
is an instrument used during Orthopedic surgeries that actually shaves bone and
then sucks the bone shavings up into a suction tube setup. The Surgical
Techs don't always get that hose cleaned out properly and I get hit with the
sour-sweet metallic odor of blood and burnt bone when that happens. (Gee,
I bet I just squicked someone out there. Sorry about that.)