Nightshift 46: Patient Possessions Storage

[perfectrecord]

[From here]As von Karma set foot inside this room, he clicked his flashlight back on and waved it around to see whether any dangers were present. So far, all he could see were two long shelves on either side of him, containing small, flimsy boxes in apparent alphabetical order

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[ninelivesonce]

Before looking at any of the boxes, Taura did a second scan of the spaces between. Nothing but shelves and boxes, though there was no guarantee it would stay that way. When she finished her scan, she was, apparently, in front of the Ms. March, Marsh, May, Michaels, Morales. That gave her direction and location. She stepped one long step to the left and looked again. A-ha! At the front of that row was Fuchs, Keane, which meant...there. She lifted the last box from the back of the row and set it down near von Karma before returning to the row she'd passed over.

Jackson, Katherine was exactly where it belonged. Something shifted inside as she picked it up and reread the nameplate. It wasn't like her to be indecisive, and it was just more lies, but she still hesitated to open it up.

She turned fully away from von Karma and his box -- there was something private about seeing pieces of a life laid out like this, like possessions boxed up before a funeral.

[perfectrecord]

Thump. The aging prosecutor gave a start as the abrupt sound jolted him back into full consciousness. He peered in the direction from which the noise originated and found a box at his feet. Fuchs, Karl was written upon it in large letters. This was the one, no doubt. But how had it materialized on the floor like that?

There was only one valid explanation: Ms. Taura must have found it first and set it down before him. But how had he missed seeing it? It was then that he found himself standing in front of the "L" row. He had completely overshot his target by several letters.

Damn you, Landel! I refuse to fall victim to this induced senility.Attempting to control his internal rage, von Karma looked up at Taura. Her back was turned towards him, but he could see that she had already retrieved her own box. Was she facing away from him for her own privacy -- or for his? It truly mattered little in the end. In a weary yet still dignified tone of voice, he said, "Thank you, Ms. Taura," although his gratitude was more for the respect she had

[ninelivesonce]

When he was done scowling at his "own" box, or was alerted by the rhythmic sound, the sight that would meet his eyes was an odd one. Taura had slid the top off the box, and was holding a basketball over her head. It bounced off her fingertips, grazed the ceiling in a slow arc as she rocked forwards, and met her hands only to bounce off again as she leaned back. Her brows were knitted in concentration, and the rest of the box had been briefly abandoned by her feet, her flashlight propped up inside it.

Each time it came down, she adjusted the splay of her fingers and the angle of her arms -- what started out as a stiff motion gradually relaxed, until her shoulder blades had settled back into place, and her hands met rubber like a caress.

[perfectrecord]

To ensure that he had not overlooked anything important or useful, von Karma examined "Dr. Fuchs'" belongings again. Aside from the perfect custom fit on his ring finger, the plain gold wedding band was unremarkable. The wire-framed reading glasses also fit just right, though he was loath to admit that he would ever need them in his practice. It was the fault of printers and publishers for making text such an infinitesimal size that one had to strain his eyes to read it

[ninelivesonce]

It hadn't been that loud, had it? She caught it on the rebound, and pulled it down. Not nearly as loud as the door had been -- not that much louder than his harsh breathing had been at times. Anything up here had already heard them. She glared back, her face expressionless, until it sunk in.

She could understand fear. Unarmed, untrained, deep behind enemy lines...if he wasn't scared, he was an idiot, and von Karma was no idiot. "Sorry," she whispered, her voice barely more than a puff of air. She tucked the ball back into the box. She didn't want it -- she didn't want anything that reminded her that a young woman might still be caught in limbo somewhere, waiting to go back to a home that missed her. Back to a life that seemed more alien than a hundred different worlds around a hundred different suns, but had been hersKatherine had packed it as a good-luck charm; as charms went, it was pretty unwieldy, but maybe there was something else. She could look later; right now, von Karma had a point. This wasn't the place to dawdle

[perfectrecord]

His arms folded tightly, von Karma continued to glare at Taura. Though he spoke no words, the look on his face was unmistakable; he would tolerate no more foolishness tonight. He gripped the shoulder of his left sleeve, his fingers digging through the thick fabric of his coat. Finally, the young woman apologized, her voice contrite. He nodded in response, somewhat mollified but still rather stern

[ninelivesonce]

Taura did grab her entire box -- her arms were long enough she could tuck it between elbow and hip and still have a free hand. Then she just watched as he kitted up.

No-one had seen fit to give her back her uniform; she'd have to ask him where he'd found the clothes. From the practiced way he tucked things into pockets, they had to be his own. But now was not the time; not unless she wanted a lecture on stealth and silence, delivered in tones louder than her own voice. Civilians. Hmph. She tilted her face into shadow so he wouldn't see the way the corners of her lips twitched upwards.

Once he had finished speaking, she answered only by swinging the half-shattered door open wide. They walked through in silence, broken only by the soft tap of von Karma's cane, and then she pulled it shut behind them.