Is It Casual Now?

Renee took a deep breath. It was almost silly to think that she was nervous about this. She had single-handedly negotiated hostage situations, maintained quarantine zones for deadly pathogens, and taken on men twice her size with hand-to-hand combat. This was just a bit of permanent ink. She could do this. But she had to admit it wasn't just about the tattoo; it was still largely about her continuously having to look over her shoulder everywhere she went. She shouldn't be reckless and waste the effort that Kanin had taken to get her into Witness Protection. At the same time, she felt like she had lost everything: Jack, her friends in DC — not that she had stayed in contact with them much in her final hours — and even her identity. She needed to take what she could get. More than that, she couldn't stand the reminders of who she used to be. As a Fed, she might have worn her scars with pride, but now they attracted stares, especially the one on her neck, and she wanted to change how they were perceived.

Her nerves were assuaged by the knowledge that this tattoo studio seemed to advertise itself as a safe and inviting space, predominantly catering to female clients. There was only one artist here, but her online portfolio, specifically her specialty in covering scars, had looked impressive. There hadn't been any images of the artist online — just a name: Denise Perri. But the shining reviews had ultimately convinced Renee. 

When Renee walked in, she was met with a buzzing sound and a smell that reminded her of fresh paint. A cheery young man standing at a desk greeted her. From what Renee could tell, his skin was more tattooed than bare.

"Ah, you must be Denise's eleven o'clock consultation. Natalia, is it?"

She still wasn't used to being called that, but smiled nonetheless. "Yep, that's me."

"You can take a seat here." The man pointed to a couch near the desk. "Denise is just finishing up with another client."

As Renee did so, she noticed several paintings on the walls that matched the style of tattoos she had seen online. She supposed it made sense that a tattoo artist would also have a penchant for painting. There was a folding screen up, likely for the client's privacy, but Renee could spot a mini-fridge full of snacks, a large TV, and some tablets with headphones. She also realised that she had already learned to tune out the buzzing.

There was some quiet chatter before a young woman walked out from behind one of the folding screens, eagerly admiring the fresh tattoo on her thigh. From what Renee could tell, it looked like a fox and some flowers. She walked over to the counter and got out her purse to pay. The receptionist gave her a bag, reminding her of some of the after-care instructions, and then she left the studio. Her happiness was almost infectious. Renee couldn't remember the last time she felt like that.

"Sorry about the wait. I always get caught up taking photos of my work," another voice said, and Renee turned to see a woman with dark curly hair and brown eyes holding a tablet. Denise, presumably. She was, understandably, covered in tattoos. But Renee was immediately struck with a sense of familiarity. She was sure she had never met this woman, but somehow, her gut thought otherwise. The woman laughed nervously, making Renee realise she had been staring for some time. "Is something wrong?"

She was quick to shake her head. "N-No, everything's fine. I was, uh, just admiring the painting of that wolf."

Denise craned her neck to look at the wall behind her, seemingly buying it. "I do love that one," she mused, then turned around and sat across from Renee. "So, what can I do for you?"

"Right." Renee placed her hands on her thighs. "I have a few scars I'd like to cover. Apparently, that's something you're good at."

Denise smiled, but beneath that apparent pride, there was some sympathy. "Have you gotten a tattoo before?"

She shook her head. "I'm also still not sure what I want," she admitted sheepishly. "But I know that I like your art style."

"I'm flattered that you're willing to take a chance on me, then. Where are the scars? The less bony the area, the more suitable it probably is for your first one."

"I've got one on my wrist, one on my neck, and one on my ribcage."

Denise hummed in understanding, seemingly unfazed about why she might have the scars, to her relief. "Alright, so we definitely won't start on the ribcage then. The wrist is probably best. Can you show me?"

"Sure." Renee rolled up her sleeve, not feeling the usual hesitancy she did when she looked at it, vividly remembering the way Jack had gently grazed it… Denise studied it before standing and moving over to a pinboard of various stencils. As she did this, Renee could see the edges of a large backpiece beneath her tank top. Although the colours were mesmerising, the texture of the skin beneath it didn't look very smooth, leading Renee to conclude that covering up scars was a focus of Denise's for a reason.

Denise pulled down a few stencils, all flowers or plants with long stems, before returning to her seat. "You said you weren't sure what you wanted, so these are just some flash tattoos. They're a little cheaper because I've already designed them. Any of these catch your eye?"

Renee was drawn to a stencil of a blush-coloured orchid. Larry always used to buy her orchids when she had a bad day.

"The orchid is nice."

Denise then placed it over the scar, lining up the stem as best she could. The scar was understandably jagged, but not as much as the one on her neck.

"I think this one would work really well. What do you think?"

Renee took a moment to try to imagine it. It was a little difficult to translate a piece of paper into reality, but she did love the design.

"Actually, let me give you something better to look at. Do you mind if I take a photo of the scar?"

"No, that's fine." 

Denise used the tablet to do so, then layered a transparent version of the stencil over it. "How's that?"

Renee could barely see the scar now, and it thrilled her. She was sure this newness and excitement would wear off at some stage, but for now, it felt like a change she needed.

"I like it," Renee agreed.

"Great." Denise smiled. "Well, if that's the case, let me open my calendar, and we can book you in."

She was about as nervous as she had been for the consultation, but being here for the real deal today brought a lot more excitement, too. Roy, Denise's assistant and receptionist, greeted her and gave her some paperwork before informing her where the sodas and candy were in case she felt her blood sugar drop. He also offered her some headphones and a tablet if she wanted to listen to music, but she politely refused. She was in enough of a vulnerable position here; she didn't want to be totally unaware of her surroundings. She then sat on the bed, waiting for Denise to walk over, holding what looked like a few stencils of different sizes.

"You nervous?" Denise asked, taking a seat in a nearby chair.

"A little," Renee admitted.

"You'll do fine, I'm sure," she reassured with an encouraging smile. It was so easy to relax around her. Renee wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing, given the position she was in. "I've got a few different sizes of the orchid. We can try a few and see which one you like best."

Renee tested the small and medium stencils, finding the latter to do a slightly better job at covering the scar with the stem. Denise ensured the stencil was perfectly placed on her wrist and asked Roy to come and check as well. Then, Renee lied back and listened as the buzzing sound began. 

"Ready?" 

She met Denise's eyes and immediately found herself lost in them. They were very pretty. Renee then reminded herself that many people wanted her dead and that Denise could be one of them, that she wasn't supposed to be getting close to anyone, but somehow she couldn't believe that.

"Let's do it," Renee said, biting her lip.

When the needle made contact with her skin, it wasn't quite as bad as she had expected it to be, to her relief. It definitely hurt a little, but she could list off a few things that were worse. Being shot, for one, not that she was going to share that in casual conversation. Before she knew it, she had gotten used to the pain and found it mesmerising to watch Denise work. At this proximity, she could also continue to think about why she looked so damn familiar.

"You're sitting well," Denise commented. "Most of my female clients usually do. The ones that come here to cover scars, even more so."

"How long have you been tattooing for?" Renee asked, never mind her having stalked Denise online and figured out that the studio had only been around for a few years.

"I've been doing this for almost seven years, but I've only had the studio for two," Denise answered. "I learned from the artist who did mine. She did such an amazing job of covering my scars and giving them a new meaning for me, so I wanted to be able to give other people that same experience. Scars don't fade, but if you can redefine them, then, to me, that feels empowering. If you're going to have to live with them, you may as well do it on your terms."

She hummed in understanding. It was a beautiful story. But there was a part of her that was desperate to know more. Rationally, though, she wasn't about to startle the woman currently holding a needle to her skin.

"People come to me from all walks of life. Every scar has a story. They're not obligated to share it with me if they don't want to, but if I give them a way to heal, I've done my job."

That was good to know. Denise could probably infer what the scar on her wrist was from. But the neck and chest scars had stories she didn't really want to bring up to a stranger who was totally unaware of the horrors of her past life. 

"What about you? What do you do for work?"

"Nothing right now," Renee said. "I'm, uh, just settling in town. I needed a fresh start."

"Fair enough. Sometimes, we need to get away from it all."

Renee winced a little as the rough paper towel scraped over her sensitive skin. Denise tilted her head, checking the tattoo from every perspective possible, going back two more times with the needle, apologising and muttering something about being a perfectionist. Renee just assured her it was fine. She appreciated Denise's attention to detail, even if she could hardly see a difference.

Finally, Denise pulled away, satisfied. "And we're done!"

Renee lifted her wrist so she could see the orchid better. Her skin was red and sensitive, but the colours and shape looked even more amazing than they had on the stencil. The process almost felt magical to her. She could definitely get used to this. 

"I love it. Thank you so much." 

"You're most welcome," Denise beamed. "Let me get a few photos for my website, and then we'll wrap it up for you."

Denise proceeded to position a small spotlight that best highlighted the vibrance and depth of the colouring before taking some photos. It took a few tries to get the right angle, which created some amusement.

"Sometimes the best photos come from the weirdest positions," Denise joked.

She proceeded to apply plastic wrap over the tattoo and give Renee some after-care instructions before they both came to the counter.

"Oh. I just realised something," Denise said, stopping her in her tracks as she turned from the counter. "You mentioned you were looking for work, right?"

Renee nodded.

"How good are you with computers? Roy's going off to do his apprenticeship soon. I'll need a replacement assistant while he's gone and probably when he comes back because he'll want to start practising. You'd be managing appointments, responding to emails, and helping to keep the website running."

"I think I could manage that," Renee said after a beat, admittedly thrilled by the prospect of spending more time with her.

Denise looked very relieved. "That's great. Thank you so much, Natalia. How soon can you start?"

"Whenever you want me to."

"Then I'll see you tomorrow." 

After about a month of working as Denise's assistant, Renee still hadn't solved her hunch. With every second she spent with Denise, she became more and more convinced that she knew her from somewhere. She spent every spare moment at home reviewing every case she could think of through online archives. It would help if she could still get into the FBI's system without worrying that the IP would be traced back to her. If only she could still call Janis for help. But the further into her past she looked, the less likely it seemed she would find something. Renee somehow believed her knowledge of Denise was from a recent event, but it made no sense; Denise had been tattooing almost as long as she had been an FBI agent. And if it was really recent, say one of the cases she worked on before that horrible day, it would have come to her immediately, right? She wasn't going to let this go. Her name wasn't familiar, but it seemed awfully generic enough that she could be someone in Witness Protection or otherwise protected, perhaps even undercover. If that was the case, Renee didn't want to expose her in any way and risk her life. Renee told herself that even if she did figure it out, she would leave this woman be. There was no reason to risk exposing her secret. But at the same time, Renee believed it wasn't that simple, that there was a reason she felt so inclined to learn the truth.

More pressingly, she was so happy to have a genuinely wonderful friend like Denise in her life that she couldn't bear to drive her away. They just seemed to get along so well. Renee didn't feel like she had to hide or pretend to be someone else around Denise. She could still be Renee Walker, albeit without all the gory details of her past or her real name. It was clear that Denise felt the same way. She seemed very happy to have found her, for reasons more than just filling in a job vacancy. They often ended up talking long past the studio closed. However, Renee had to wonder whether she just thought of Denise as a friend. They were awfully comfortable around each other, not that that was a bad thing. Renee had put it down to Denise being understandably unfazed by the human body due to her profession as a tattoo artist.

But right now, as Denise continued to work on the large rose that would cover the scar on Renee's neck, she had to wonder whether all that eye contact was intentional. It could just be her checking that she was doing okay since this spot was a little more painful. But Renee couldn't deny there was something deeper there. Maybe she was crazy. Maybe she just missed Jack and Larry. Still, when Denise touched her skin and pushed her hair back, there was something so gentle about her movement. She was close enough for Renee to smell her perfume, and it was almost overwhelming.

"Nearly there, just a few more minutes. You're doing well," Denise said with a smile. Despite having what Renee assumed to be a rather difficult past, Denise always seemed to be smiling at her. But lately, that smile had saddened, and Renee wasn't sure why. It was almost longing. Maybe, just maybe, Denise felt the same way as Renee and was equally afraid that if she crossed a boundary, they would lose what they had.

As promised, it didn't take too long for Denise to finish the shading on the rose, the drone of the needle soon ceasing. She held up a small mirror so Renee could see. The vibrant red was certainly eye-catching, but the shape and placement of each stroke perfectly concealed the scar. She understood why people considered tattoos addictive. It made her so happy. Not only did she have such a beautiful piece of art on her body, but now she finally felt like she had defeated the sense of dread that came every time she looked at her scars — two out of three of them, at least.

When Denise went to take the photo, she ended up having to kneel on the bed with one leg on either side of Renee's hips, asking Renee to turn her head to the side so it was under the light. Denise leaned forward, and just as she finally concluded she had the perfect shot, she slipped. Renee caught her by the shoulders, stopping her from falling.

"Thanks." Denise blew a hair out of her eye. "That wasn't the smartest idea, was it?"

Their eyes met again. Denise's shirt had shifted slightly to expose more of her chest, revealing a large tattoo Renee had never seen in full, just glimpses when Denise wore a V-neck. It looked like a floral mandala of some kind, but what grabbed Renee's attention was the thick, leathery, and discoloured texture of the skin beneath it. While the tattoo concealed it and distracted her gaze remarkably, Renee couldn't stop her mind from identifying the skin as a result of severe burns.

"What?" Denise asked, looking down and then back up again.

"N-Nothing, I wasn't staring. I…"

Denise was heaving a little, and her cheeks were flushed. Renee hadn't ever had relationships with women, but she had always questioned whether she was attracted to them. Denise had finally answered that question. She wasn't sure who leaned in first, but within seconds, Denise's lips were on hers, and Renee had a hand in her hair. Denise's hands were planted on either side of her. The kiss was soft at first, then it deepened as they became more comfortable.

When Denise eventually pulled back, her lips were a little puffy. She moved her hand to wipe away a trace of lipstick from Renee's upper lip.

"Do you make out with all your clients like that?" was the first thing that came to Renee's mind. She was admittedly still stunned, unsure if she was dreaming.

Denise grinned. "Only the really pretty ones."

They kissed again, the sensation even more electrifying. Despite the newness of it all, Renee still couldn't deny how right it felt.

At some point, though, they mutually decided to part. Denise remembered to cover the tattoo with plastic wrap and prepare Renee's after-care kit, becoming uncharacteristically skittish. For a moment, Renee wondered if it was regret, a concept that made her gut sink. But then she recognised it was fear. Fear, like as much as Denise had wanted to do that, she had soon realised that she shouldn't have. Maybe Renee had been right to assume Denise was in danger like she was. It would explain a lot. In that case, Renee had to find the truth. She wanted to assuage Denise's fears and assure Denise she could keep her safe. Caring that much for someone she hadn't known for long felt crazy, but not crazy enough to stop her.

They didn't say much to each other on the way out, other than a sheepish, See you tomorrow. Usually, on a Friday, they would go out for a bite to eat, but there was no invitation tonight. That was fine by Renee, though, because she was going to get to the bottom of this. The burn scar was a clue. Renee was willing to bet there was more where that came from. It would explain why Denise had covered what Renee guessed was her entire body in tattoos. Renee asked herself if she had ever worked on a case involving a fire. Nothing came to mind at first; the closest she could think of was the explosion that had killed a dozen FBI agents the day they had arrested Tony Almeida.

Renee decided she needed a starting point. Maybe she was focusing on the details too much. So, on a whim, she pursued results about Tony. She was immediately met with a much older news story unrelated to that day. It was the story of his arrest for treason about fifteen years ago. The fact that it came up first made sense; it had had high press coverage due to the impact of the Cordilla virus on the general population. Renee almost felt drawn to it, so she clicked further, scrolling through the photos until she stopped on one with a small gasp.

It all made sense now.

She had kissed Michelle Dessler.

Three days had passed since Renee had figured out who Denise truly was. Renee hadn't brought it up because she was falling for Denise, hard, and was terrified of losing her. But she needed to. Renee had spent every minute preparing and rehearsing her speech in her head. She didn't want to scare Michelle. However, there was no good way to tell someone that you had uncovered the identity they had tried to bury for almost a decade. And she certainly wasn't going to do it as Michelle pressed a needle to her skin, meticulously tracing the last strokes of the new phoenix on her chest. Michelle had been a little surprised by Renee's enthusiasm to get the last of her scars covered so soon. But it had been the best way to get her alone without any clients walking in.

When the tattoo was finished, Renee felt like her chest was going to explode. She sat very still while Michelle took the photos. Michelle had commented that she was tense. Renee hated that Michelle probably thought it was because she was uncomfortable from what had happened the other day, and it was a shame that that was so far from the truth. She needed to be open with her. She didn't want either of them to live in fear anymore — or, at the very least, not in fear of each other.

"I liked drawing this one up," Michelle mused as she sat at the desk, copying the photos from her camera to the computer. "The idea of rebirth is very beautiful."

She just had to say it. She couldn't keep hiding this from her.

Renee sat up, steeling her nerves. "Suppose you'd know all about that, wouldn't you, Michelle?" she said, her voice unwavering.

Michelle froze, meeting her eyes fiercely. "What did you just say?"

The back of the monitor obscured Renee's view. She didn't like that she couldn't see Michelle's hands. 

"I know who you are, who you really are."

Renee's discomfort was well-founded when Michelle drew a gun and pointed it at her.

"S-Shut the blinds and lock the door. Now."

Renee raised her hands and did as she said. She went to try to explain herself, but Michelle told her not to talk until she sat down where she could see her.

"Who sent you? Who the hell sent you?" Michelle asked, and Renee realised she had never seen her drop her facade and look this vulnerable.

"Nobody. I promise you," Renee assured gently. "I-I'm a former FBI agent in Witness Protection. I had seen your file when we looked into your husband."

Michelle squinted. "Why was the FBI looking into him? Because of the Sentox conspiracy?"

"N-No, it was–"

"Wait," Michelle said suddenly, turning to type at her computer without lowering her gun. "What's your badge number?"

"Excuse me?"

"I have a backdoor into the FBI database," Michelle clarified. "If you're telling the truth, then I'll be able to find your badge number."

She could understand that. She recited the number without hesitation, and soon saw Michelle relax a little. It seemed she had found her profile.

"Says you're deceased…" She looked her up and down. "Doesn't look that way to me." She softened her expression for a moment. "That's why you got the phoenix, isn't it? The scar on your chest is the one that killed you."

"Yeah," Renee confirmed quietly.

Michelle then furrowed her brow as she continued to read details. "Hang on." She hardened her voice. "You were undercover with a Russian gang when he was killed. That doesn't add up."

Only then did it hit Renee that she had something much more important to tell Michelle.

"Oh my God, you don't know," Renee breathed.

The tension instantly came back to Michelle's body. "Know what?"

"Tony… Tony's alive."

Michelle's mouth fell open, but she still appeared in denial.

"I-I don't understand how you don't know. You've had a backdoor this whole time, but never looked into his file?"

"I looked once," Michelle said, her voice rough with emotion and her eyes bright. "I wanted to see his autopsy photos since they put me in WitSec before I could go to his funeral. I never wanted to see them again."

Renee pressed her lips together. "Then I suggest you open his file to see what's there now."

Michelle did so, listing off the charges she saw, challenging them, asking whether anything was a mistake. It would be easier with more context, but she let Michelle continue to learn the truth on her own. What indicated that Michelle had updated herself sufficiently was her clasping a hand over her mouth and choking back a sob. The last thing on Tony's file was the date of his trial and lifetime prison sentence. Renee wanted to hug Michelle so badly, but she was already so overwhelmed and didn't want to make it worse.

"So, you can imagine I looked at your file a lot in the lead-up to that day. I-I was so desperate to understand why he was doing those things. But all it did was make me angry at how he dragged your name through the mud."

Michelle peered up at her, displaying gratitude beneath her teary eyes.

"When I walked into the studio that first day and saw you… I had a gut feeling that you were familiar. I… At first, I figured you were in a similar situation to me, so I didn't want to risk exposing you. But as I started getting closer to you, I couldn't bear to be dishonest. I had to know why I kept feeling the way I did every time I looked at you. I started searching for archived images and news reports of old cases, hoping that whichever one you were from had been declassified. Tony's treason charge — well, first, treason charge — came up since it was so public. There was a picture of you walking into court. The rest was history."

She nodded, struggling to find her words. She still looked scared, like her world had come crashing down.

"How long have you known who I am?"

"About three days now."

Michelle sighed, a sad smile on her face. "Is that why you kissed me? To help figure out your gut feeling?"

She was quick to shake her head. "No. I swear. I wasn't– That wasn't a tactic to get close to you. That was real. Look, Michelle–" Calling her by that name would take some getting used to. "I like you. A lot. I didn't think I would let myself feel that way about anyone again. I thought I was going to have to spend the rest of my life running. But I can be myself around you." Her words came out rushed, and her cheeks were flushed, but what gave her immediate relief was Michelle's face gradually lighting up. "And I can't let that go. I know it's dangerous — for both of us. But we can protect each other."

Michelle put her gun down, stood, and took a few steps forward, cupping Renee's face. "I'd like that," she said softly. "I… You scared the hell out of me, but I trust you. And I care about you, too. You make me happy. I'm not letting go of that."

Their lips met assuredly, knowing that they were being open. There would be no more secrets between them. All of those wonderful butterflies from the other day came back. 

Renee never thought she would be this happy again, not after everything that had happened. But she was so glad Michelle had proven her wrong.