TFLN Overflow

[sherlockfreud]

 
 A thread for overflow when captcha rears its ugly head--

 

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[detectivepowell]

If Dani makes Malcolm a mess-- Well, it's mutual. It's been a while -- on purpose -- since anyone got under her skin like he does. There's a part of her that's just waiting for the axe to fall. Everyone disappoints you sooner or later. (Gil hasn't yet, but he's different. There's no category to hold their lieutenant.)

Dani follows Malcolm's glance over to the closet. With her eyes first. Then her feet. It's an impressive piece of furniture. About four times the size of hers. It opens with a whisper and Dani stares into the meticulously ordered depth of Malcolm's closet. Like everything else in the apartment, it's neat and precise. The absolute neatness stands in stark contrast to the near manic way he presents in person. The apartment hints at a different Malcolm, someone more put together. Or perhaps someone who tries a little too hard to be put-together. As if he can control the chaos inside if he just keeps everything on the outside neat. A tangled mess hiding beneath starched white collars and tailored suits. But, hey, she's not the profiler in the room.

"I guess if they're a killer, the shit part is pretty implied," Dani tells the contents of the closet. There's no shortage of ties in the closet, all neatly displayed right next to multiple sets of impeccable suits. She trails light fingertips over the displayed ties. The knots -- not to mention Malcolm straining against them -- are likely to ruin whichever ties she picks. Three ties for each arm, Dani decides. One to make an approximation of a cuff, and two to give it enough length to keep Malcolm's joints and shoulders from taking damage. Most men Dani's known, have a couple of shitty ties somewhere at the bottom of the closet. It's often obvious. The old school tie, the polyester blend, the bright yellow with a pink flamingo on it that seemed funny on the way back from the beach in Cancun-- There's nothing like that in Malcolm's collection. Dani's willing to bet real money that every single one of them is designer and pure silk.

Dani's fingers skip the ones she's seen him wear -- he must like those -- and the ones with hues of blue that would complement his eyes. She settles on bright reds, a burnt orange, a pale yellow-- any tie that doesn't look like him. She pulls out tie after tie, like a conjurer pulling silk scarves from a hat, until she has six. The rasp of silk is strangely centering.

"I haven't done this in a while," Dani admits as she returns to the bed, sorting through the ties and choosing the widest ones for his wrists. She sits down on the corner of the bed (it feels like one of those beds in the mattress stores, the ones that cost more than six months worth of paychecks, sort of firm and soft at the same time). Carefully, she spreads out the ties on the blanket next to her, five parallel lines. She keeps one of the bright red ones in her hands. "Stop me if you see one you like."

Normally, Dani would just tie a handcuff knot and be done with it. But Malcolm needs more range of motion, his hands can't be tied together. Any slipknots are right out of the question. No matter how much he tugs against it, the knot can't tighten and cut off his circulation. But it has to be tight enough he can't pull his hands through it on accident. It'll have to be a column tie. Dani twists on the bed to look at Malcolm. There's no way around it, she is going to have to tie it directly around his wrists. Wordlessly, she holds a hand out for one of his. Her heart stutters in her chest again and the moment seems to stretch out between them, gain more weight somehow.