Date: Sun, 17 Mar 1996 16:13:25 -0500 From: "Susan M. Garrett" Subject: Paternal Order (1/2) A short story, inconsequential. ****** Paternal Order (1/2) by Susan M. Garrett After a case like this, it was expected--tensions were being released in destructive ways. Raised voices ebbed and flowed from and into harsh whispers, pencils were being snapped and mauled and chewed on, and someone even had the audacity to the water cooler. Reese didn't blame them. His problem was that he could do so little. And yet even that little had to be done. Vetter was sitting in front of her computer with one hand shading her eyes, which he knew had to be closed, trying to appear like she wasn't listening to the conversation--aw, hell, it was an --going on between Lambert and Knight at the desk beside her own. For a moment, he pitied the poor kid. It looked like she was coping, though. From what he'd heard, she'd known enough about arguments growing up. Which was one reason he shouldn't let this one go on any longer than it already had. "Doctor," he called, standing in his doorway with arms folded across his chest. "Can I have a minute of your time?" Natalie Lambert looked up at him with a guilty expression. "Sure, Captain." She shot a look at Knight, who must have said something--there was a whisper back that he couldn't hear, but it sure as hell made Knight flinch. And the way Natalie Lambert walked up to his doorway, he was sure that argument was going to continue the moment she returned. If Knight was still there. Well, he could do something about that, too, maybe. "C'mon in," he said, with a heavy sigh. Reese stepped out into the hall as Natalie Lambert walked by him, then he looked straight across the room where Knight was angrily rattling his desk drawer in an attempt to get it back into the track. "Knight--I need to check with you before you head off shift. Hang for a minute, will you?" Knight looked up at him with an expression that said he'd rather be anywhere else right now, thank you and why the hell was this drawer sticking? But that flash of anger disappeared under a mask. The detective was good at that, when he thought about it . . . keeping the mask in place. That subserviant, "Okay, Captain," with just a touch of anger underneath. He was meant for better things, that one. God only knew why he'd never bothered to take the high roads out of here. Reese hesitated in the doorway, watching him. It wasn't a lack of political savy--Knight knew how to pull strings, but he hated doing it. Or a lack of ambition. The man knew how to work, knew how to dog a case. It was more like he really cared about what he was doing. Or tried to. Hell of a thing for a detective to care about the cases he handled. Men burned out faster when they cared. Especially the ones who lived for the force, the loners, like Knight. "Captain?" asked Natalie Lambert. Closing the door, Reese leaned on it for a moment, looking through the slats of the window shades--yeah, Knight was staying put. Then he walked over to his desk and picked up the envelope that had been left there at the beginning of shift. Tapping it against his hand, he said wearily, "I don't want to hold you up, Doctor. This will just take a moment of your time. You wanna have a seat?" He saw her fight the urge to check the window herself to see if Knight was still there. Although some part of him wanted to tell her it was okay, that Knight wasn't going anywhere, he didn't. He couldn't. He knew how these things worked. Natalie Lambert sat down in the chair opposite his desk, even as he pushed back the picture of his wife and kids to lean on the desk edge, sighing beneath his breath as he lifted his weight from the worn soles of his shoes. "God, my feet hurt. Worst part of this job--being on your feet all day. Gets worse when you're behind a desk, if you can believe it." "I can," said Natalie Lambert sympathetically. She clasped her hands together in her lap and looked down at them. "Captain, look, I'm sorry if Nick and I got a little loud just now, but--" "Not a problem. We're all wound up a little tight after this one." Her answering smile was wan . . . but it was a smile. Good, he didn't want her to think she was being called on the carpet. She wasn't. She was one of the best they had. And from those circles under her eyes, those lines on her face, they might not have her that much longer . . . . "How are you holding up?" "Holding up?" Natalie seemed surprised by the question, then rubbed the back of her hand across her eyes. "After a fifteen hour shift--oops, my mistake--" she glanced down at her watch, " hours--" Reese leaned forward and placed his hand on her shoulder. "Go home, Natalie. Get some sleep." She forced a another smile. "We've still got a couple of bodies in the cooler. And God knows how many they'll find by morning--" "Read my lips-- . A couple of hours won't make a difference to them, poor souls." Reese stifled a yawn with his hand and dropped the envelope to the floor, hoping his clumsiness looked natural. "Better take my own advice. And I was supposed to double-check the homework on the youngest this morning, too." She bent down to pick up the envelope and was handing it to him when he saw her recognize Nick's handwriting on the front. She released the envelope reluctantly--her hand wasn't shaking but he saw another line appear on her face, no matter how calm, cool, and collected she tried to be. Masks. They all they them, didn't they? Only way to survive. Only way to do what they did, day in and day out, and survive. "That's from Nick," she said, in a careful, even tone. "Yep." Reese held the envelope in his hand, as if balancing it. "He dropped it off at the start of shift. I think it's his resignation." She rose from the chair almost involuntarily, her eyes flickering toward the window, then back to the envelope in his hand. "His . . . resignation?" "Yes. I'm afraid it is. And I'm afraid I'm going to give it proper and due consideration." Leaning to one side of the desk, he tore the envelope in half and dropped the pieces into the wastepaper basket. Natalie's eyes widened. Stunned, she licked her lips, unable to move. "Really, Captain, don't you think--" "Why bother? It's just like all the other ones." "The . . . other ones?" Natalie cleared her throat, started to say something, then stopped again. "What? I don't--?" Reese looked past her, to the outer office. Yeah, it was time someone tumbled onto this truth. They were all under stress. That's why he'd called her in here. He met her eyes and saw the fear she was trying to hide--that bad, was it? "Let me show you something," he said, after a moment's pause. "But what you see stays in here, between us, okay?" Another flash of fear in her eyes, covered up so quickly. Damn shame such a pretty woman--and --lived behind so many masks, with so much fear. "Okay." Reese walked over to his filing cabinet and squatted down by the lowest drawer, groaning when his back gave a twinge. He had to move this stuff up higher and soon. Wasn't getting any younger, was he? "When an officer gets transferred, they send over all the requisite paperwork. I guess when Knight got shunted over here, there was some extra stuff Stonetree thought his new captain should have." He lifted the envelope box, rested it on the open drawer for a moment as he levered himself to a standing position, then bent down and picked up the box again. "Amanda Cohen added to it. And when--well, when it fell to me, I've been keeping the paperwork. Although there've been just too damn many of them lately . . . ." He handed her the box. Natalie took it like he was handing her hot coals--holding it gingerly and looking up to meet his eyes with an expression that couldn't decide between worried and confused. Good. Let the masks fall. Reese walked back behind his desk and eased into his chair. He gestured toward the box, saying, "Go ahead. Open it." She did, sitting down in the chair opposite his desk and removing the top of the box, which she dropped to the floor. He gave her a minute or two to sort through the envelopes, to understand what she had in her hands. Then she looked up at him, her expression settling into confusion. "Can I--?" "Sure. Go ahead." She picked one at random, opened it, and read. She wasn't the kind of person who read with her lips moving--probably would have chapped lips by now from the amount of stuff she had to handle in her line of work. But he watched her as she read one, then another, then another. By the fifth letter, her lips had drawn into a grim smile, but she carefully replaced each letter back in the proper envelope and the proper sequence after reading it. Meticulous. That was the word to describe her. Bet her place over at the Coroner's Office was neat, too. Had to make time to visit. Had always meant to, but since he'd come aboard under such circumstances and his street days were a half a decade past . . . . "How many times he resigned?" He didn't miss the tight quality of her smile or the chill in her voice as she looked up at him. "About thirty-something, not counting the ones I tossed. The plane crash--that one was for real. But the others--?" He shrugged and leaned back in his chair even as she picked up the box lid and set it in place. "It's the pressure. Does crazy things to some of us. We need to tell ourselves that we can walk away, that we've got somewhere else to go. That when it gets bad, we could be somewhere else. That's why Knight writes those letters. That's his out--it gives him a little mental breathing room. Drop off a letter, walk out the door, and it's over. Or that's what he tells himself." "Is it?" Natalie Lambert's voice was soft. She placed the box of envelopes on the desk. "I don't think you understand--it that easy for him. He could do it. He's . . . he's done it before." "I thought he might have." Reese nodded. That's what he'd wanted to hear. "Hell of a lot less self-destructive than drugs or booze. Me--I curl up with , a cup of coffee, and a pound of bridge mix. But the point is . . . gotta have an out. Knight can write all the letters he wants. Someday, he may drop off a letter and not show up for the next shift, but for right now if it helps, it helps." She was staring at the box. He could tell what she was thinking, trying to match letters with cases or events. They'd been together a couple of years, hadn't they, her and Knight? Good people, both of them. Odd, in their own ways. But most people on the force, particularly the night shift, were. "So, Doctor," he said, clearing his throat to shake her from whatever dreams or nightmares she was currently resurrecting and reviewing, "what about you?" Those eyes awakened, widening slightly--hazel, was that the color? "Me?" She gave a nervous laugh. "What about me?" "What do do? Like you said, you've been straight on for fifteen--no, that's hours, right? And you've been pulling a week of hell shifts, anyway." Reese leaned forward, wanting to catch her before the masks fell into place again, before she became a competent, self-effacing, 'I do my job' coroner again. "You need a day to get out of town, go shopping, fly-fishing . . . whatever?" The corner of her mouth quirked slightly. "Fly-fishing?" Good--a smile. He spread his hands. "Or whatever. You need the time, you take it. But you gotta tell me." She hesitated. There was a moment of thought . . . and the smile disappeared. The mask fell into place too quickly. "Thanks, Captain--Joe. But I'm okay. I just need a good night's sleep, that's all. And you're going to need me around tomorrow night, depending on what they dig up tonight." When she rose from her seat, he knew that he wouldn't have a second chance. With no small amount of regret, he rose as well and leaned past her to get the door. "Yeah, guess you're right. But you go home and take the phone off the hook. You get that good night's sleep. I need my people healthy here. Understood?" "Understood." But she half-turned as he opened the door and said, "Pinball." (Continued in part 2) susang@vitinc.com -- http://www.vitinc.com/~susang Visit THE essential webpage for Forever Knight info at: http://members.aol.com/CuznJamiMR/SaveForeverKnight.html Paternal Order (2/2) by Susan M. Garrett It was a gift from heaven. Reese narrowed his eyes and asked, "Pinball?" leaning on the door to keep it closed. "Uh-huh." Another smile, maybe guilty and a little embarrassed, so she looked down at the floor and scuffed the toe of her shoe. "Arcade games. You know, mindless stuff. But not nintendo or anything. The kind where you can go to the arcade and, when you don't win . . . ." "You beat the living hell out of the machine?" guessed Reese, when she didn't finish the thought. Natalie Lambert's smile was broader, less embarrassed. "Just thought you should know. In case a call ever comes in. Do we have a radio code for 'insane coroner destroying video game'?" "We'll make one up," he promised. Then he opened the door for her, adding, "Get a good night's sleep, okay?" "You too. And good luck with the homework." He merely grunted. And he waited. And he watched. Natalie Lambert looked over at Knight. He couldn't see her face, but he did see the pause--she could walk out of there, or she could walk over to him. The fact that Knight looked up at her seemed to swing the decision in his favor. Reese pretended to be busy with a paper on the bulletin board, but he caught their reflections in the glass door. A couple of words, real quiet. Natalie was was not so grim--the mask was gone, although it took a couple of seconds for Knight to lose his. She touched his arm, said something, then headed for the door. Knight picked up his keys from the desk as she walked away. Reese hurriedly moved to his office door again, barking, "Knight?" Natalie stopped, glancing back at Reese over her shoulder, but he just nodded at her. "G'night, Doctor." Then he crooked a finger, gesturing Knight forward. "You got a minute?" A little unnerved, maybe even hesitant, Knight looked toward Natalie, then walked over to Reese with measured steps. He slipped into the office and wiped his hand across his face. "Um, Captain, about that letter--" "Already taken care of." Reese leaned over, picked up the garbage can, and showed him the contents. Knight nodded somewhat sheepishly in response, then met his eyes. "Thanks." "We had a lousy case. We a lousy case," Reese corrected himself quickly. "Which means I need you and Vetter to sew up the details tomorrow night. I want the Crown Attorney to drop our paperwork in front of a judge and get an indictment in five minutes or less." "You'll have it." "I expect to." He let his hard glare soften. "But that's tomorrow. Would you do me a favor --give Dr. Lambert a ride home tonight?" Knight looked over his shoulder. Reese could see Natalie Lambert from where he was standing; she was at the front desk, talking to someone. "Her car--" "She's coming off a sixteen hour shift. The woman's exhausted." He rubbed his eyes wearily, then focused again to see Knight watching him closely. "Hell, we're exhausted. But I'd like her to get home in one piece tonight. If it's a problem, I can have a uniform drop her--" "No. No, it's okay. I'd be happy to drop her home." Knight's voice was just a little too eager in his acceptance; the averted glance afterwards sealed it. "Thanks. Tell her I'll have a uniform take her car by tomorrow if she'll leave the keys." "If she's on late shift tomorrow night, I can drive her in . . . ." This time the offer was just a shade less eager, more of that 'friendly, working cameraderie' type of thing. The mask was back. But now that he was pretty certain what was beneath it, it didn't bother Reese as much. He let his own mask fall into place, waving Knight away. "You work it out--just get her home. Me, I got two pages of multiplication tables to deal with if my kid's going to make it out of second grade." Knight's expression was part commiseration and . . . was that envy? Damn, the man had nothing to be envious about. He had time for a family yet. Plenty of time. Both of them did. Reese called again as Knight turned, halfway out the door. "Nick--?" "Captain?" "When you take Dr. Lambert home, you might wanna swing by Younge Street. There's still a couple of video arcades open, even at this god-awful hour of the morning." That got him a raised eyebrow, a look like he was crazy. "Sure, Captain." And then Knight headed out the door as if he was afraid the sudden madness might be contagious. The next shift were already settling into place. Reese watched them as they wandered in with coffee or danish or . . . God, he wished Artiz would get off this cold pizza for breakfast kick. Turned his stomach. Even as he watched the night shift give way to morning, he kept his eyes on Knight and Lambert. She knew what was going on; she was the smarter of the two. The glance Natalie gave him over her shoulder as Knight placed a hand on her back and escorted her out of the station told him that much. And maybe that she didn't mind, not really. With a sigh, he turned back to his office and picked up the box of envelopes. Had Knight seen them? He swore under his breath as he walked over to the filing cabinet, then decided that it didn't really matter. He was replacing the box in the lowest drawer of his filing cabinet when he heard Vetter behind him. "Captain? I'm just signing out. Unless you want me to finish up that report--?" "Go home, Tracy." Reese placed his hand in the small of his back and let out a groan as he rose. "Why they don't make these things higher is beyond me. Damn filing cabinets." "I can stay a little while longer. If you really want those reports." He hesitated, then turned toward her. No, she wasn't being over-eager, wasn't trying to snow him--didn't have to, not with her dad being who he was. There was almost a desperation in the look she gave him. A need to be needed. He didn't those reports. He didn't the overtime showing up on the monthly balance sheets. But he nodded and gave her his best smile. "Okay. If you can put in another hour, I'd appreciate it. It'll give us a head start on what they find today. And I need that paperwork for the Crown Attorney, ASAP." "Sure, Captain." Tracy gave him a bright smile--he wondered how the hell she managed after a shift like the one they'd had and decided that youth was wasted on the young. "I'll get right on it." But on her way out, she paused and turned back. "Captain, you look tired. Maybe should go home?" "Maybe I should. And maybe I shouldn't be taking advice from smart-mouthed, young detectives." She took it as intended, smiling back. "Good night to you, too, Captain." But she was right. Reese pulled his overcoat from the rack and threw it over his shoulder--it wasn't cold enough to bother with knowing that he was a couple of steps from the car. He echoed the half-hearted good-nights from the remains of the late-shift and the disturbingly chipper greetings from the incoming members of the new shift, consoling himself that another day was over and it was time to return home to his house, his breakfast, and his family. Correction--his family. ********** The End Questions, comments, etc. to susang@vitinc.com susang@vitinc.com -- http://www.vitinc.com/~susang Visit THE essential webpage for Forever Knight info at: http://members.aol.com/CuznJamiMR/SaveForeverKnight.html