I look at Jinny and can literally feel the blood draining from my face as I stagger back on my heels slightly. 

 “Oh shit,” I gasp, as my lungs try to remember the concept of breathing at the same time my scalp and face go icy cold.   

“Put your head down; you’re going to pass out,” Jinny murmurs and I shake her off, staring at Legaspi.   

“Here?  Why would he come here?  And how?”  

“He had the address from contacting me to see you, remember?  And he said he’d telephoned Kate and she didn’t know your whereabouts but suggested he contact me or Kerry.”  She shakes her head looking back towards the doorway and crosses her arms, gripping her wrists.  “I think he called while we were out and just decided on the spur of the moment to come over~~” 

“Sarge doesn’t do anything on the spur of the moment,” I laugh, the sound harsh.  I lean forward slightly, boosting my hands on my knees as Jinny grips one shoulder and pats it soothingly.   

“Breathe, Cooper.” 

“Oh, yeah,” I snort.  “I definitely want to be conscious for this.  Fuck!”  I look between the two of them grinning hysterically.  “This is great.  I can’t imagine a more perfect ending to this whole fiasco than my LT flying out here to fire me in Dr. CIA’s house.”   

“You don’t know that’s what he’s doing here,” Jinny says, her voice level.  “Don’t hear that until he actually says it.”   

“Oh, right, like he’s come all this way to say, ‘Gee, Coop, sorry to hear you got tossed in jail on a trumped up DUI; great job you’ve been doing otherwise.’  Get real, Jinny!  I haven’t talked to the man in days and the last time I did I basically told him to fuck off and hung up on him.  Since then I’ve what?  Wrecked a car, got charged with drunk driving and possession, assaulted a supervising officer, got tossed in jail and most of that on television.  Fuck!””   

Legaspi clears her throat and I glance up at her, miserable.   

“I can tell him you’re indisposed and you’ll contact him tomorrow morning,” she tells me and for a good half minute I’m tempted, but then I shake my head, groaning and shove myself upright.   

“Nah.  It won’t be any easier to hear tomorrow than tonight.  Might as well get it over with.  God. And I would have to be sober, huh?”       

 My laughter is more than a little out of control and I don’t miss the worried look that shoots between Jinny and Legaspi over the top of my head.   

I shove them both off gently.  “I’ll be fine.”   

I’m only slightly wobbly crossing the few feet of kitchen to the doorway where I pause,  eyes closed as I take a last few seconds to steady myself before letting go of the door frame and walking out with my head up.   

“Sarge,” I say, voice only slightly strained and relieved to see he is not in uniform.   

He looks up, still speaking politely to Weaver who nods before turning to look at me, eyes searching my face and more than a little worried.   

I put my hand out and if he notices it’s shaking he covers it well.   

“Coop,” he barks, in his typical militarily abrupt manner.  Next to him Weaver blinks and Angelo cringes back against the wall visibly.  “You look like shit.  What the hell did you do to your hair?”

 “Nice to see you too, Sarge,” I reply and don’t miss the slight squeeze he gives my hand before releasing it.  “It seemed like a good idea to change my appearance given the circumstances lately.” 

 “Well, if you’d stop attacking people on live television it’d probably be helpful,” he booms and I swallow noisily. 

 “Yes, sir.” 

 “Dr. Weaver here has volunteered the use of her study for me to talk to you.  You think you can work that in to your busy schedule of crashing cars, attacking officers and disobeying direct orders right about now?”

 He’s only in half-Marine mode; shoulders up and back, chest out, jaw squared.  And all things considering, his voice level is relatively low decibel, still I feel nauseous and when I answer him by voice breaks in the middle tremulously. 

 “Don’t go all Peter Brady on me, Sgt. Finn,” he snaps instantly, his head rearing back even further and automatically I go into Trainee brace with my feet apart and my shoulders back and hold the look he’s giving me. 

 “No, sir.”  I snap back.   

 He nods.  “Good.  Let’s get one thing straight; I’m not here in uniform, I’m not asking for an official statement for the Department but I am still your immediate superior in your chain of command.  And it would behoove you to remember that.” 

  “Behoove?” I repeat.

 “Sgt. Finn?” he bellows and I blink and snap back to attention. 

 “Yes, sir.”

 “Okay, then. That room, Dr. Weaver?” he turns back toward Weaver expectantly and she blinks a couple of times before crutching forward avidly, eyes wide as she passes between us. 

 I dare a glance at Jinny who is leaning on the door frame of the kitchen entrance, arms crossed, face white, eyes questioning.  I lift my hands and shoulders simultaneously, shaking my head as I duck in after him. 

“We’ll do the whole formal thing tomorrow,” he tells me, striding about the room to examine the various framed certificates and diplomas displayed on Weaver’s study walls.  “Right now it’s just me and you, okay?”

"Good by me,” I respond but still stand there until he glances at me. 

 “Sit down, Coop.  You look like you’re going to fall over.  And I’d have a hard time finding a head injury in that color hair.” 

 I sink down on the edge of a leather arm chair and watch as he circles the room, reading, looking unhurriedly at degrees and framed commendations and credentials. 

 “She’s not a shrink too, I gather?”

 “No.  ER.  Some kind of ER head honcho.” 

 He nods.  “And they’re what?”

 I could pretend to not know what he meant, but this is Sarge and there’s no point since he’d see through it anyway and besides, I’m too tired for head games. 

 “They’re lovers.  Girlfriend and girlfriend.  Lesbians.  Saph~~”

 He holds a hand up to stop me.  “I get it, Cooper.  Honest, I’ve been out of West Texas prior to this.” 

 I clear my throat to see if he’s going to make any noise but he’s apparently decided Weaver and Legaspi’s sexual preference either isn’t any of his business or not interesting enough to comment on. 

 “So,” he says, spinning to face me and leaning against the back of the small sofa.  “You stepped in it this time, huh?”

 “Yeah,” I sigh and stretch out so that my legs are straight.  I swing my feet back and forth on their heels, staring at them.  “Yeah, I did.” 

 “And you know the worst, most stupid thing you’ve done in all this?” he asks me and I groan, putting a hand to my nose to grip it and shake my head. 

 “C’mon.  Take a guess.” 

 I heave a hard sigh and look up at him, nose still gripped, shaking my head and shrugging. 

 “I don’t know, Sarge.  Hitting Massey?  Hitting him on television?  Losing my temper with my chain of command?  Being stupid enough to hit a building and giving a fuck wad like Van Zandt the opportunity to plant shit on me?  I don’t know.  My ways of fucking up are rich and wide and various.  Give me a clue here.  What?”

 He’s silent for a moment, regarding me before he stands and crosses the few feet and then squats in front of me, eyes very level and seriously grave as they search my face. 

 “The dumbest thing you’ve done was forget that before I was your Lieutenant, I was your friend.  You could have trusted me enough to call me up and let me know it was going to hell.” 

 “I did tell you.  And you pulled me off it.  Remember?”

 “Yeah.  I do.  But you also remember I was backed into a corner by my chain of command, right?  And eight minutes after you hung up on us I tried to call you back to let you know I’d back you on it because I know that me and you both can trust your instincts.” 

 I don’t know that I’ve ever cried in front of Sarge.  Not even after Jase’s death.  And it takes everything I’ve got to not do it now. 

 I nearly lose it completely when he briefly squeezes my knee before he shoves himself upright and crosses a safe distance away and stands with his back to me while I get myself under control. 

 “You okay to talk about it now?” he asks, voice gruff and craggy, still facing away from me. 

 I sniff and clear my throat, the noise ragged and scrub my hands down my face. 

 “Yeah.  I mean, yes, sir.” 

 “Okay.  I want you to tell me what’s happened out here that’s put you in this place and got people coming after you wanting you dead.  I want you to tell me the truth and I don’t want you to skip anything and I want you to understand that whatever I may have to be tomorrow, right now it’s just me and you in here.  No shit.” 

 He pauses, gazing at me, eyes level and unflinching. 

 “Alright?” 

 I nod. 

 “Okay, then,” he says, nodding back.  “Let’s get started so we can figure a way out of this for you.” 

END OF 62