His decision to move to Sacramento was based solely on fragmented memories that had been created in that place decades ago. The feeling of dewy grass underneath the bare soles of his feet. His mother's hearty laugh when she pushed him on a swing. All that wasn't much to build a future upon, but it at least reminded him of a happier time in his life.
And the city welcomed him with open arms. After a few days he was able to leave his hotel and move into a lovely little apartment downtown which had absolutely nothing in common with the house he had sold. Showcasing his talent of reading people in a well patronized diner during lunch time, he met some agents of the CBI who challenged him to find the solution for a case they just had closed. A week and several conversations with people in high places later, he earned himself a consulting position in the Major Thefts department of the CBI.
He discovered that it was fun returning stolen art objects of incalculable value to their rightful owners. No matter that some of the agents approached him with skepticism, he liked belonging somewhere again. Nevertheless, he rather kept to himself instead of going out with his co-workers for a drink after work and therefore he had still way too much time to bury himself in his grief. He felt vulnerable without his wedding ring, which had been his armor in the last couple of years but now got discarded to avoid questions he wasn't ready to answer. And all the time, hidden behind a mask of feigned calmness, lurked the fear that somebody might find out about his past.
On a Tuesday, almost four months after his arrival in Sacramento, the prospect of at least a little bit distraction presented itself to him. The day had started dull enough, with a painting being stolen for the third time since Vansh joined the CBI. Things went even more downhill when he failed to leave headquarters before the beginning of the quarterly staff meeting. He probably would have managed to shuffle out of the situation somehow, but since his supervisor already was severely pissed off after a minor hypnotism incident during an interrogation, he decided to just suffer through two mind-numbing hours of case analysis, backslapping and admonitions. Maybe he would get the chance for a little nap; he still hardly slept at night.
Half an hour into the meeting he discovered that he wasn't the only one not paying attention. His eyes fell on a dark-haired woman not far away from him who was busy dealing with something that looked like a huge stack of paperwork. Secretary? Not very likely. Judging by those he had seen here, she didn't wear enough makeup for that position. He bent sidewards to be able to look under her table. Flat, comfortable shoes. Dark jeans. He came to the conclusion that she was probably an agent, one of the few female ones he came across so far.
The way she now and then glanced at the people next to her, told him that she was their boss and could have easily delegated some of the paperwork unto them. Her refusal to do so was rather intriguing and he suspected that not only kindness was the reason, but that she also had trouble trusting other people. Vansh acknowledged to himself that watching her was more fun than he had had in years, even more so when he discovered that he was not the only one whose eyes were on her. Quickly he was able to determine that the other men in the room, leaving the indifferent ones out, were either scared of her or wanted to sleep with her.
For his part, he was too afraid to analyze any feelings he might or might not develop for her, but he still caught himself comparing her to his late wife. There had been a time when he had been able to look at people without bias, but now he was damned to search for his lost family in every woman or little girl he came across. The unknown female bore no striking resemblance to his wife, but he was still intrigued by the way she furrowed her brow. It was obvious that she, just like him, considered this gathering a waste of time. Hesitantly he admitted to himself that he was not completely averse to getting to know her better. That another human being was finally able to create positive emotions inside of him again was rather unexpected, but even though the idea scared him to death he decided not to fight this development.
The perfect opportunity to talk to her occurred two days later. Meanwhile he already knew that her name was Riddhima Mehra and that she was a Senior Agent with the Crimes Unit. All his questions had earned him teasing comments by his colleagues and the - hopefully not serious - advice to beware of Riddhima's right hook, but he could live with that. The only concern he had was that, even though Florida was far away, they might have knowledge of what happened to his family. An innocuous chat about jurisdiction in general and in particular with one of his colleagues dispelled his fears, so he was pleasantly surprised that he saw Riddhima Mehra in the CBI parking lot when he left for the day.
She looked less happy when his car stopped next to her and he rolled down the window.
"Do you need help?" He asked, pointing at her obviously non-cooperative car.
Amusement now replaced the annoyance on her face as she gave him a once-over and Vansh became aware what kind of impression his fancy car and tailored suit probably made on her. Quickly he tried to hide his sudden insecurity behind a big grin.
"No offense, but I doubt that you can repair a car." Riddhima announced her verdict.
"I can't, but..." He opened the passenger door of his car. "... I'm a very talented chauffeur."
"Thanks, but that's not necessary. I'll just take the bus."
She already turned her back on him, when a sudden downpour came to his rescue. The five minutes he needed to convince her to get into his car were enough for him to develop a serious crush on her. When she finally surrendered and allowed him to drive her home, she was pretty much drenched. He daydreamed how he'd dry her off with a big, fluffy towel and gently wipe the raindrops from her eyelashes, but then she started complaining about his driving speed and burst his bubble. All of a sudden he started feeling very uneasy in her presence. He clearly wasn't ready for a close encounter with another person; he had been a fool to believe otherwise.
Uncomfortable silence began to spread out between them. Riddhima stared out of the window while Vansh desperately tried to come up with safe conversation topics.
In the end Riddhima was the first to speak.
"So, you are that consultant, huh?"
"You have heard of me?" Vansh asked, not quite able to hide his contentment.
"Last week I overheard Mitchell from Major Thefts complaining about your maturity level."
"The same Mitchell who is still living with his mother and eats only peanut butter and jelly sandwiches she makes for him?" He asked, in the same teasing tone she had used.
The corners of her lips twitched and even though she didn't laugh or say anything, Vansh considered that a victory. In that very moment he stopped falling in love with her and instead began to genuinely like her. Suddenly it was much easier to talk to her. About work. About the town. About anything but his past.
"I'll pick you up at seven tomorrow morning." Vansh announced when they arrived at her apartment.
Of course she told him she'd take the bus. He didn't expect her to make it any easier for him. Of course he in return teased her that she was only scared that people would gossip if they'd arrive at work together. He just discovered that it was fun to rile her up.
In the end he accepted her decision, but that didn't mean he would act accordingly. Half past six the next morning he was waiting at the exact spot he had dropped her off the day before. He had the notion that she might leave home earlier, just in case he'd try to pick her up anyway, and he was indeed right about that.
"I brought donuts." He happily directed at her grumpy face when she noticed him. It turned out that the offering of baked goods was a lot more efficient than any words.
Three days later Riddhima's car was still lacking an essential spare part. Driving to work together was meanwhile almost routine, but Vansh enjoyed her company more every day and if he was not mistaken she felt the same way.
A week, a lot of persuasiveness and several donuts later, they decided to turn their car pool into a permanent arrangement, even though Riddhima's car was fully functional again. Only for the sake of the environment, she claimed, but Vansh knew that she was only being cheeky.
Five days later, Vansh didn't get off the elevator at the first floor like usually and had to confess to her that he had pulled a few strings to get assigned to the Crimes Unit. He knew all along that she would be angry at him for creating a fait accompli, but he had been too afraid she'd talk him out of joining her unit.
"I don't want to waste my skills on stolen paintings any longer." He told Riddhima during their first fight. The other reason, that he also wanted to spend more time with her, wasn't something he was able to express as easily.
"You have 24 hours to solve this case." Riddhima prompted him and drove off without him that night.
Vansh didn't want to go home anyway; he had a murderer to find. For her. For his own sanity. Losing Riddhima was not an option. The gruesome crime scene photos conjured up connotations of his blood red nightmares. The male victim turned into the tortured body of his wife. He felt dizzy. He cried silently. He laid down on a worn couch until he was able to think clearly again.
In the morning he presented Riddhima a killer on a silver platter. She was skeptical, how could she not be. But at the end of the day, after confirming Vansh's opinion, she reluctantly announced to her team that Vansh would work with them.
Riddhima was still mad at him though for playing her like that; he discovered that donuts didn't work in this case. He tried take out Chinese food instead and was surprised that she actually let him in when he showed up with it on her doorstep that night. Maybe she was just hungry; a peek into her refrigerator when he went to get himself a fork suggested as much. Either way, Riddhima seemed to be in a forgiving mood and soon they were able to return to their usual banter while Vansh took the chance to inspect Riddhima's apartment.
Shelves crammed full with books, CDs and various other stuff.
An old couch and table, where they took their meal.
Some unpacked boxes.
Very few pictures or decorations on the walls.
A handful of stones and seashells on the windowsill.
The place was more empty and messy than he had expected, but it still made sense that Riddhima lived there.
He later hardly remembered any details of that first evening he spent at Riddhima's home. What he did know though was how comfortable he had felt there with her. They talked about her reasons to join the CBI, about her brother. Riddhima drank wine while he had water to not give her the impression he planned to stay overnight due to an inability to drive. He was careful around her, but he felt himself opening up the more time he was granted with her. He teased her, all in good fun but cautiously so. He secretly assessed after each quip if he accidentally crossed an invisible line or hurt Riddhima's feelings, but she took everything he said well. In the contrary, sometimes she was even more cheeky than him.
The next morning, when he picked her up for work, Vansh felt that the evening before had strengthened their relationship. He wasn't able to explain why it suddenly felt as if they were connected by a life-long friendship, but he knew that they were both on the same page.
Dinner at Riddhima's place soon became an ingrained habit for them. Sometimes Vansh or Riddhima cooked, but often they just ordered some take-out. Many a case was solved while analyzing it in Riddhima's living room. The other members of the team were occasionally invited, but most of the time it was just the two of them swapping ideas.
But it wasn't only work they talked about. Vansh shared everything about his current life with her, but he still shielded his past from her. Even when she one night, her tongue loosened by the two bottles of wine they shared, opened up about the demons of her own past, he remained silent. The things she told about her parents and her brother were bad enough, but nothing compared to the bloody nightmare he hid from her.
They went through the inevitable phase of agents of other teams whispering behind their backs. Riddhima pretended to be indifferent to the rumours about their alleged love affair, but he knew that she - being the private person that she was - took it hard that people focused on something else but her professional success. Maybe Riddhima's policy of ignorance was the best choice though as people soon simply stopped caring.
Vansh wasn't able to let go as easily. The idea of turning his relationship with Riddhima into a more intimate one preyed on his mind, whether he liked or not. Given how emotionally damaged he was, it was absurd to even consider a new relationship. Not even with Riddhima. Especially not with her, as he really didn't want to hurt her. It was one thing to infuriate her by disobeying her orders at work now and then, but breaking her heart was out of the question. Besides, maybe there was already a man in her life. She had never mentioned one and he liked to believe she'd share something like that with him, but he really couldn't be entirely sure.
Vansh decided to just stop entertaining stupid ideas like that and to instead focus on his great, but platonic friendship with Riddhima. For a while that worked surprisingly well. They shared two to three evenings a week together and sometimes he was even able to catch some deep, dreamless sleep in the nights that followed. He hardly slept the other nights, but that was okay. His insomnia gave him more time to think about their current cases and therefore increased the unit's solving rate, which in return made Riddhima happy.
Then, one night, he fell asleep on Riddhima's couch. It was after midnight when he woke up again. For a moment he panicked because he couldn't figure out where he was, but finally his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room. A woolen blanket covered his body. Riddhima had made sure that he was warm and safe. A wave of affection washed through him. Thinking of Riddhima, sleeping in her bed with just a few thin walls between them, he wasn't able to go back to sleep. Too much time alone with himself wasn't good for him: In the wee hours of the morning he had persuaded himself that meeting a drowsy Riddhima in the morning would be awkward. He left her a note on the kitchen table and walked home, cursing his own fatuity all the way.
Two days later, he was spending the night on Riddhima's couch again. This time he only pretended to fall asleep and was apparently not very convincing.
"Next time you want to sleep over, you better bring your PJ's." Riddhima told him when she covered him with a blanket and threw a pillow at him when he wasn't able to suppress a chuckle.
The next morning he discovered a new side of Riddhima: She had a habit of humming while operating domestic appliances. Something inside of him changed. He wanted to feel that carefree again as well. But most of all, he was now absolutely unable to regard her as genderless any longer.
In the shower, in the solitude of his own apartment, he faced a dilemma. Being widowed had so far been equivalent to being nonsexual. The few times that he had felt something like lust, he had gone through the motions of relieving the tension while keeping his mind off anyone or anything. The mechanical reaction of his body was enough for him; he wasn't in need of interpersonal complications. Now this not thinking proved to be difficult.
His palm touched his stomach.
Lingered.
Didn't dare to move on.
Riddhima humming in her kitchen.
He supported himself with his other hand on the wall.
Tried to get rid of her still untainted image.
Tried to stop thinking, stop feeling.
Failed miserably.
In the end he reached for the water faucet and let the icy cold water wash away his misery.
That day he avoided Riddhima at work. He noticed her quizzical looks and he knew that he was acting unreasonable, but he felt like he lost the ability to behave like a normal human being in her presence. Turning down her invitation for the evening and pretending to have a date, he felt a sting when he noticed her hurt expression. Full of self-loathing, a condition he didn't feel as severely anymore after leaving Florida, he aimlessly roamed around the city and finally ended up in a bar.
He just wanted a drink. He surely wasn't after a one-night stand. But when that woman flirted with him, he forced himself to stop analyzing things and instead to dive into the adventure she offered him. It didn't matter that he sneaked out of her apartment right after she fell asleep and cried in the shower later, when he realized just how much he strayed from his past. After his tears dried and his racing thoughts calmed down, he finally understood that his first sex after losing his wife had to be with a total stranger. He knew he wouldn't have been able yet to bear close physical contact with someone he cared deeply about. Maybe, now that he had taken that first step into the direction of a normal life, he would eventually be able to also fully open up to someone - to Riddhima - emotionally.
It took a few days, but eventually he was able to sleep on Riddhims's couch again. He felt like he was finally really making progress. He even mentioned a few random anecdotes from his past life. They only featured his friend Aryan, but it was a start.
When Riddhima's phone rang in the wee hours of the morning, Vansh was too content to be suspicious at all.
To Be Continued.....