Chapter 4

"What a load of shit."

Sawyer just managed to hold back his eyeroll as the two of them walked out of the morgue, copies of the preliminary autopsy report in hand. Or, in this case, rolled up tight and being smacked into Kurt's palm like if he hit the papers hard enough, the words on them would change.

"So it's a homicide," Sawyer said. "We as good as knew that already."

" Suspecting it is one thing, having it confirmed by the goddamn M.E.…" Kurt shook his head. "And this is after you already dug into Upworth and found a lot of nothing, goddamn nothing. This guy was as boring as the dirt he farmed."

Sawyer shrugged. "I might have missed something."

"You haven't yet."

It was nice to get what amounted to a round of applause from his partner, but Sawyer would have preferred one from Dr. Ramin. Speaking of… Sawyer stopped and shook his head. "Damn it."

"What? "

"I forgot my phone in the morgue."

Kurt looked at him incredulously. "Forgot your…what the fuck did you have your phone out for?" His expression darkened. "You weren't taking pictures, were you? ‘Cause sharing photos of the deceased would do more than get us canned, it would get us sent to fucking jail. And get your phone seized as evidence. If you put one damn pic up on Tock Tick or whatever the hell it is, I will—"

"Kurt." Sawyer put a calming hand on the other man's shoulder and tried not to take the attack personally. He's going through a lot. That didn't mean he had to be such a dick, though. "I was just using it to check the time."

"That's what you wear a damn watch for!"

This time, Sawyer gave in to rolling his eyes as he pulled back his sleeves. "Do you see a watch on my wrists?"

Kurt sighed. "Goddamn kids these days…"

"I'm thirty-seven."

" Kids ." He shook his finger at Sawyer. "You need a watch."

"And you need another cup of coffee." Sawyer pointed him toward the lobby's coffee machine, which he'd oh-so-conveniently stopped beside as he "remembered" his lost phone. "Grab one to go and I'll be back in a minute. Less than a minute."

"You'd better be," Kurt said, but he was already turning toward the coffee pot. "We've got a metric ton of shit to shovel through today, and we're not going to get through any of it sitting around in the Corpse Café."

Honestly, it was a miracle that Detective McKay had lasted three decades in a public-facing job given how little he thought of, well, pretty much everyone and everything. Sawyer half wished he was still producing shows, just so he could have his partner written into a screenplay. "You're so rude."

"I'm old . I'm entitled to be rude." Kurt took a sip of the coffee he'd just poured and made a face. "Go, go, I'll be doctoring this into something drinkable until you get back."

Sawyer took the out he'd gone to the trouble of setting up and headed back down the hall toward the morgue where they'd left the unfortunate Mr. Upworth and the handsome Dr. Bashir Ramin.

As soon as he stepped through the morgue's double doors, the chill of the room hit Sawyer.

Dr. Ramin appeared, poking his head into the vestibule. "Was there something else, detective?"

Sawyer smiled. It was a smile he'd worked hard on, charming yet serious with a soupcon of flirtation around the edges. "I'm afraid I left my phone. Do you mind if I…"

"Of course not." Dr. Ramin stepped aside and motioned for Sawyer to come all the way into the morgue.

Sawyer walked over to the table where he'd left his phone partially hidden behind a kidney-shaped metal bowl, picked it up, then turned back to the medical examiner. "Dr. Ramin—actually, do you mind if I call you Bashir?"

"I'd prefer if you didn't. It's not very professional." Dr. Ramin leaned against a desk and crossed his arms. Oof, body language was starting to shift into something negative; it was time to take his chance before the other man was completely closed off.

"I was wondering if you'd care to get dinner with me tonight."

Sawyer was treated to the sight of Dr. Ramin's very attractive mouth dropping open. His body language went from I'm-not-inclined-to-be-patient to what-was-that?, which was an improvement. "I'm sorry? "

"I'd like to take you to dinner." Sawyer let his smile shift into something more genuine. "Tonight. If, uh, if there's enough of a lull in the action that we can both get away. Maybe at Misoni if you like fusion food?" That was the place Huerta had mentioned, and if the upward flick of the doctor's eyebrow was any indication, his interest was piqued.

"To discuss the case?" Dr. Ramin asked.

"I don't think there's much about the case that requires further discussion between us for the moment. No, I'd like to take you to dinner because I want to get to know you better."

It took another few seconds before Dr. Ramin shook his head. "Ah, then no. I'm sorry, it's not…" He looked at Sawyer for a moment, eyes lingering on his chest before shifting back up to his face. "It's not personal. I just make it a point not to date people I work with."

"We don't work together," Sawyer pointed out.

"We do right now."

"I don't think that's quite the same."

Dr. Ramin sighed. "I'll be more clear. I don't date cops."

Well, that was…disheartening. "Not ever?"

"No." Dr. Ramin's body language was closing off again. Damn it. Pushing right now would only result in escalation, which was the last thing Sawyer wanted. He wanted Dr. Ramin to be relaxed around him—to welcome his presence and to look forward to his company.

Clearly that was going to take some time, but the man's refusal to date cops notwithstanding, Sawyer was hopeful that it wasn't a completely lost cause yet. Dr. Ramin was just the third person who had ever interested him enough to make a move, and the first to catch his eye since he'd come to this city.

Patience, grasshopper.

"I understand." Sawyer ducked his chin for a second, enough to break the intense eye contact, before glancing up again. "I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable."

"Oh, I wasn't—you didn't make me uncomfortable." Dr. Ramin shook his head. "I'm just not…interested."

Sawyer wasn't willing to bet on that fact. However, he'd already lost this hand—it was better to fold now and save some of the doctor's goodwill for another day. "No, I get it. Thanks for letting me down gently." He nodded toward the door. "I'd better get out to Kurt before he decides to drive off without me."

"Right. Um, goodbye."

"Bye." Sawyer left the morgue but almost ran right into a woman he recognized as one of Dr. Ramin's associates. The short blonde bob and dark eyeliner were definitely familiar.

"Ooh, Detective Cologne!" she said with a knowing grin. "You are the cologne guy, right? The one who hit on Bash at the scene?"

Is that how he described it?

"Am I?" Sawyer asked in a monotone.

Her bubbliness popped. "I assume so, if you were cornering him in his workplace like that."

"I didn't corner him." There had been five feet between him and Dr. Ramin, and the exit was on the doctor's side.

"Look." She leaned in close. "Take this as a bit of friendly advice—don't go there. Bash already has trouble finding nice guys, and the last thing he needs is to end up with an ex at work. You guys give him enough trouble as it is."

Sawyer smiled at her. It was an different kind of smile than the one he'd given Dr. Ramin. This was a cold, distant sort of smile; a smile bearing more resemblance to the sharp glint of a knife than the muted shine of teeth. He had just been rejected by the man himself—he didn't need the message to be repeated by his techs. "Got it." He slid around her, careful not to touch, and headed for the lobby.

"No need to be a bitch about it," he heard her mutter—possibly to herself, but potentially at him. Whatever. He'd been called worse things by better people.

"Finally," Kurt groused when he saw Sawyer. He threw a nearly full cup of coffee into the closest trash can. "Let's get out of here before I do something regrettable, like drinking any more of this slop."

"Let's." Sawyer followed his partner out into the midday sunshine and loosened his tie. His neck felt itchy, his throat a little tight.

That's the joy of rejection for you.

"You okay?" Kurt asked in an uncommon show of concern as he started the car.

"Fine," Sawyer replied. "Just a little tired."

"Yeah, you and me both." That got his partner to launch into a familiar catalogue of woes that would give Sawyer approximately seven and a half minutes of peace on the ride back to the station. He wouldn't have to do more than "mm" or "huh" for at least that long, which meant he could think about how he might be able to change Dr. Ramin's mind about dating cops.

What was wrong with dating a cop? Sure, for your average person, dating someone who worked a stressful job with chaotic hours might be a negative, but Sawyer was pretty sure Dr. Ramin's hours were no better. Couple that with the challenges of finding someone to talk to when your work was handling dead bodies, and a cop seemed like the ideal partner .

They still had two minutes to go on Kurt's fuck-my-life diatribe when dispatch contacted their car. Kurt groaned, but replied, "Go ahead."

"We've got a bystander report of a drowning on Parson's Creek Road."

Sawyer froze for a moment. A drowning where ?

His partner seemed to think that was as weird as he did. "Dispatch, repeat that please."

"A bystander came across a body on Parson's Creek Road that they believe shows signs of being drowned. You're the closest car to check it out."

"How the hell could someone drown all the way up there?" Kurt barked into the radio. Parson's Creek Road, despite the name, was on top of a hill, and dry as a bone. "Did he go swimming in a damn mud puddle?"

"I don't know," the dispatcher said with exaggerated patience. "That's why you need to check it out. You'll probably be the first police on scene."

Oof, the clock was ticking to get to the body before it became seriously contaminated, then. Sawyer waited for Kurt to sign off, then said, "Think you can make it in ten minutes?"

Kurt scoffed. "Are you kiddin' me? This time of day with the sirens on?" He flipped a switch on their refurbished patrol car and it started to blare. "I can make it in five. Hold on, kid."