Once again I’ve managed to throw the internal switches and true meltdown has been postponed. 

Magda eyes me dubiously and grunts in some sort of bemused irritation. 

I’m leaning back against the bricks with my legs stretched out and crossed at the ankle, arms crossed again over my chest.  I see her eyeball the stance and the body language and I know as well as her what it means and says about my attitude at the moment but do I give a fuck? 

Nope.

She’s left off the waving but there’s a crease between her brows as if she’s slightly puzzled.

“What?  They call in the heavy artillery?  Legaspi radio for shrink back-up?”

She snorts.   “Actually, no…  It’s just Jinny.  She’s lost Legaspi somewhere. “ 

Rather amusing how disappointed she sounds that she won’t get to witness round two of Nazi Group Therapy. 

I, on the other hand, am deliriously happy.  No Legaspi means no Weaver.  And I can handle Inspector Exstead. 

At least I think I can until I actually look up from my intense study of the sidewalk and see she has come to a stop less than three feet from us and is gazing at me, silent. 

Her face is chalk white, her eyes exhausted and tragic.   If my body language is screaming “leave me alone/I don’t want to hear it” hers is classic dejection and despair.  Every angle of her slumps and droops from her neck on down. 

“Well?” Magda asks, hands on her hips which are cocked at a jaunty angle.  Magda’s body language is saying something along the lines of a constant “fuck you”. 

“Give us a minute, would you?”

Jinny’s voice is so low and quiet I barely catch the words but Magda’s perpetual scowl deepens and she slides her eyes to meet mine and once again relays that silent but-oh-so-clear message to me. 

I salute her.  And resist the urge to make it a one-finger classic.  
“I’ll be right over here,” she tells Jinny who nods.  We both watch her strut a scant twelve feet down the wall and then nonchalantly stand there facing the street keeping both of us in her peripheral vision. 

I shake my head, half laughing. 

“What the fuck does she think I’m going to do to you?  Rip your heart out?” 

I’d meant it as sarcasm but I see at once she’s taken it on a deeper metaphorical level. 

The dark brows are drawn together and the eyes beneath them heartrendingly solemn. 

“Yeah.  Something like that, I guess.”

 I take a deep breath and hesitantly feel to make sure all the melt down switches are still toggled to off.  I can’t deal with a remorseful, regretful Jinny.  I’ll find myself wanting to comfort her and that is a place I can’t afford to go. 

She digs in her jacket pocket for a moment and then pulls my sun glasses out and extends them on her open palm. 

“Thanks.” 

 I feel much safer once they’re on.  I lean back against the wall again and shove my hands into my jean pockets and grin at her. 

“Now what?” 

“I don’t know.  I was hoping maybe you could tell me.”  

 I make a very ugly sound which would never pass as laughter.  She cringes and blinks.

 “I think you’re the one calling the shots, Exstead. “

“Cooper, please, just hear me out,” she says softly, glancing at Magda and putting herself between the two of us.   I know it’s because she doesn’t want Magda to be able to see her face. 

I shake my head emphatically. 

“No.  No way.  You don’t get to turn this into me being an asshole.  You set me up.  You let her pounce on me like a fucking Jehovah’s Witness!”

“I didn’t think it would be like that,” she says miserably. 

“Yeah? Well, neither did I.  Makes two of us that were shocked.” 

“I fucked up.”

Her voice is hoarse and ragged and for just a moment the sound of it rocks me; this matters to her.  Me being angry matters; me being disappointed with her is significant enough to make her lose control in front of Magda which I know must be excruciating.  She has her head down and her shoulders hunched as if she is the recipient of the intense scowl Magda is shooting at me just over her left shoulder.  She apparently has decided Jinny is blameless as the Madonna and I am the Anti-Christ.

I glare back at her, crossing my eyes and say to Jinny in a voice intended to carry, “If she draws down on me I’m beating the shit out of her.” 

Jinny snorts unexpected laughter and half turns to peek at Magda who rolls her eyes and disdainfully refuses to reply.   I don’t miss the bird she stabs at me the second Jinny’s back is to her though.

“So...” she begins and then looks up at me through her lashes and the heavy dark hair before dropping her eyes and kicking furiously at a piece of twisted metal erupting out of the cracked sidewalk.  “Where are we?”

I put my head to one side and stare at her. 

“Geographically we’re in San Francisco.  If you’re going off on some philosophical tangent, this is the part where I tell your partner to watch your back because you’re in some deep kaka.  And then I say, Gee, this was so fun but I’ve got work to do.”  I hesitate for a second and then add, “I had more I wanted to say but you know, I’ve just kinda had my fill of seeing my guts pulled out in public today.” 

She nods, chewing on her lower lip and giving me some intense scrutiny from  which I am relieved as hell to have my shades to hide behind. 

“Do I at least get to tell you I’m sorry?” 

 “I could probably handle some groveling,”  I say and she blinks, then laughs, startled. 

When she takes the step forward every hair on my body stands on end and I have to resist the urge to shrink back as far as possible into the wall behind me.

“You always look so scared of me…”  she says softly and glances at Magda who is scowling at me as if I’ve just slammed a brick into Jinny’s head rather than trying to inch away from her.  I freeze when her hands lift and ease my shades off again, leaving me exposed and feeling vulnerable. 

“Why?”

She’s way too close.  I need her to be back three feet and to stop looking so intently predatory and concerned.  She needs to switch back to wretched and glum.  It’s safer for both of us. 

“What?  Why what?” 

“Why do you always look so scared of me?”

“I think a better question is why you’re enjoying it so much,” I say shakily and she blinks and then laughs and takes a step back. 

“Better?” her head is to one side and she quirks her brows in question, mouth lifted at one corner in a lop-sided grin. 

“Yeah.” 

“Why are you so scared of me?” she asks, voice curious and lazy and I turn and look appealingly to Magda for help.  She lifts her brows and shakes her head and actually turns the other way having now decided to give us privacy since I’m the one in danger.

 Great. 

“Didn’t we have this conversation already?”

She smiles.  “Maybe.  But I don’t think we finished it.”

I manage to put at least another inch or so between us by sliding furtively down the wall with my back.  She snorts and immediately reclaims the space. 

“Okay…  You want to tell me what you’re doing?  Half an hour ago you were telling me how fucked in the head I am, wouldn’t listen to a goddamn thing I was trying to tell you and now you’re doing whatever this is.” 

She puts her head back and laughs and I see Magda turn to look then spin around again when she takes another step towards me. 

“I think it’s something to do with you and walls.” Her voice is low and rough and I feel my eyes widen and something greatly resembling panic bubbling up in my chest. 

“Um… help?” I call out weakly to Magda who mysteriously has now become deaf and is absorbed in reading gang tags and serenely studying primitive pornographic art on the side of the building she’s in front of. 

Jinny finds this vastly amusing.  She turns back to me grinning and immensely pleased with herself and casually puts a hand up palm down on the wall beside my head, blocking my view of Magda. 

“Why are you doing this?” I ask her, trying to not sound as flustered and breathless as I feel. 

“Because when I do this you listen.  I get this close to you and you just fall apart.  And I want you to hear what I have to say.”  She grins at me, eyes bright and adds, “Plus, I like seeing you all pink and hysterical.”

I worriedly slide my eyes to the left as the second hand comes up, penning me in. 

“I’m going to hurt her, Magda!” I yelp.  “I’m about to commit assault with a deadly weapon.”

She’s still studiously enthralled with the graffiti.  You’d think it was the Sistine Chapel’s ceiling the way she's rocked back on her heels admiring it.  I can just barely make out what looks like a grossly exaggerated penis on some little fat Buddha shaped guy.

“I’m known to be violent and any second now I’m going berserk!” 

 “Like we would notice any difference,” Magda sings out over her shoulder. 

“Give up,” Jinny tells me.  “She’s on my side.” 

“Bitch,” I mutter and she grins wider.

 “Me or Magda?”

“Both of you.” I’ve scooted myself as far back as I can, even up on my toes slightly until I realize this makes me precariously apt to fall forward. 

“You don’t have anywhere to go, Cooper,” she chuckles and I glare at her. 

“Is this some evil psychological trick Legaspi told you to use on me?”

I don’t think it’s possible for her to grin any wider.  She manages it somehow and shakes her head slightly. 

“No.  This is actually more what Kerry suggested.  I should have gone with this to begin with.” 

I’m shocked into silence. 

“You should see your face,” she laughs. 

“Jesus fucking Christ. You win. I give.  Uncle.  Insert the correct phrase here.  Just back off a little.” 

 “You’ll listen?” 

“I’ll fucking take dictation, Jinny.  Just get slightly out of my space.” 

She pulls back quite pleased and cocky with herself.  “Well, what do you know.  Dr. Weaver out shrinked the shrink.” 

“And we’re all thrilled,” Magda calls to her.  “I need to get to a secure computer Jinx.  Sometime this week would be nice.  Grovel faster.” 

Jinny crosses her eyes and then rolls them so far back in her head it looks like she’s gone comatose.  Except I think her hands would have fallen down from their positions on either side of my head.  She hasn’t backed off all that much after all. 

“God, she’s a pain,” she says, apparently to me and I would have been quite happy to agree but I suddenly go into cop mode and realize I’ve been hearing the same car engine running without moving in either direction and there’s a familiar face in the window of the silver VW Jetta I can see over Jinny’s shoulder.

“Oh look,” I say.  “There’s one of the San Francisco lesbians apparently tailing you and Magda.” 

I wonder if it’s as obvious from behind that she too has now gone into cop mode.  I have to go up slightly on tiptoe for a different reason now; as she tenses her shoulders lift and her back straightens. 

“Which one?” she asks and she’s so close I see her pupils dilate with adrenaline. 

I snort.  “Don’t panic just yet.  It’s Andrea Peyton, not Sylvie.”

“Oh fuck,” she breathes.  I frown and study her face and try to determine if this was a profane expression of relief or apprehension. 

“Mags,” her voice is no louder than previously but the tone of it’s changed and Magda half turns towards her frowning.

“Looks like we’re being observed.  Peyton.”  

“On it,” she says tersely and strides quickly in the direction of the street.

“She watching?” Jinny asks me and I look over her shoulder and peer at the silver Jetta which is now moving away from the curb as Magda approaches it at a fast walk. 

“Yep.” 

“Fuck,” she hisses and half turns to look. 

“You want to share with me what’s going on?”  I ask her and she cuts her eyes towards me and grimaces. 

“You can take your pick.  Either she’s tailing you for Massey or she’s tailing me for Massey or she’s tailing us both for Massey or all of the above and mix in some Sylvie.” 

“Yeah?  And why are you trying to keep her from seeing me?” 

She’s clever at it, moving deftly in a semi circle and listening behind her to Magda’s quick steps on the concrete and the distinct rattle of the VW as it rolls, but it’s obvious what she’s doing. 

“On the off chance she didn’t get a good look at you, I’m trying to not let her.” 

“Oh, get real.  She met me at the division and then she made me at the club leaving with you the other night, now she just happens to show up here on this street at the same time we are?”  I snort in disbelief.  And then something occurs to me. 

“Who did you tell you were meeting me here?”

I can see the same thought has already occurred to her.  She’s not particularly pleased with it either. 

“Magda and Legaspi.  That’s it.” 

“You’re positive?”

For answer she lifts one sarcastic brow. 

“And on what phone?”

“The one at my desk.”

I nod.  And grin at her.  “D’you feel that?”

She frowns at me puzzled.  “Feel what?”

“That shit that just oozed up to your neck.”

She turns to watch the silver car rolling nonchalantly down the street.  Peyton hasn’t bothered to gun it forward or attempt to pretend to be doing anything other than what she is.  She’s even turned back around grinning at Magda who isn’t pursuing it past the first intersection and has stopped, glaring no doubt, hands planted on her hips as usual.   She spins around and looks at Jinny lifting those hands in question and Jinny shakes her head and waves her back. 

“So what is this deep shit I’m in, Sgt. Finn? Other than losing my job, returning my badge and having my sex life plastered all over the Chronicle in living color and detail sometime in the near future?”


END OF TWENTY FIVE