Butterfly
AUTHOR: Lucky.
DISCLAIMER: Except for the creations of the author, all characters, characterizations, situations, and locations described in this unsolicited and not-for-profit work of fiction are the property of ABC Television, Capitol Cities, Inc., Steven Bochco Productions, the many talented people who created the world of NYPD Blue, and the actors who have made that world such a lively place. The author would also like to extend her personal gratitude to Mr. Scott Cohen for his light, his vitality, his inspiration, and for being such a compelling muse. Thank you, sir.
FEEDBACK: To Lucky
The little station wagon pulled through the falling snow in the pre- dawn dark of New York City, pumping music through the quiet.
"Follow me
Everything is all right
I'll be the one to tuck you in at night
And if you wanna leave
I can guarantee
You won't find nobody else like me..."
He followed the car with his eyes, unable to keep from smiling.
Rookies...
She popped the door open, radio still blasting Uncle Kracker into the street, and pulled at her bag, singing along. Finally, she turned off her car and he caught just a little snippet of her fluttering voice.
"You're feelin' guilty
And I'm well aware
But you don't look ashamed, and baby
I'm not scared..."
He made himself move with a start and took several long strides toward her. He stood for a second, watching her juggle the fast food bag, the extra large coffee, her shoulder bag, and her car keys. Finally, he spoke to her.
"Good morning. Need a hand?"
She jumped a little, looking up. Without a word, she dropped her car keys into his gloved hand and continued to juggle everything else. He waited in slightly amused silence, looking at her keys, then returned them to her when she reached for them.
He started again. "You must be the new detective."
"Nope," she replied lightly, turning to head into the house. "I'm an old one that Detroit-Eastpointe decided to dump too much crap on." She tossed a glance over her shoulder to make sure he was following. Then, "Posey Jackson. I'd shake your hand but yours are stuffed in your trenchcoat and mine are full."
He pulled his hand up long enough to cover his quick grin. "Quite alright. Harry Denby."
She turned again, giving him a harder look. "Quite."
He slacked his stride and let his jaw hang for a second, then snapped himself out of it. You're gonna let a woman shut your mouth? Trotting up past her on the stairs and opening the door for her, he commented, "You're clocking in early. Just kissing the required asses or is this de riguer?"
She paused in the door, regarding him thoughtfully. "I'm kind of a pre-dawn person... and so far, you've all been asses." Posey grinned brightly and brushed past him.
He slicked his tongue over his teeth, grinning after her, thinking only one thing.
Chew toy...
He had to pace pretty fast to keep up with her as she took the steps two at a time, following her up to the precinct office and watching as she dumped her stuff on Diane's old desk. She pulled off her coat and hat, revealing jeans and a plain sweatshirt under a wavy swing of carmel-blonde hair. As she pulled her laptop computer from her bag, she addressed Harry.
"So do you have a purpose here or what?"
"Are you asking me if I'm a detective or if I'm a criminal?"
She looked at him with all seriousness. "What's the difference?"
Her computer beeped as she turned it on, then she disappeared into the bathroom, leaving Harry with his jaw down again.
Marry me.
He waited for her and she came back, dropping herself into her chair and hitting keys on her computer. Then she turned to her breakfast. Bacon cheeseburger and fries. As she unwrapped the burger, she glanced up at Harry.
"Hungry?"
"No, just curious."
"You sure?" she offered to share her meal again.
"Very sure." Harry pulled Danny's chair away from his desk and turned it around, straddling it backwards and folding his arms over the back. "So you're from Detroit?"
She nodded and covered her mouth a little, speaking around a bite of burger. "Rape and murder capitol of the world."
He nodded a little and slid off his gloves, stuffing them into his coat pocket. "What brought you into my little gin joint?"
"After investigating the fifth police officer charged with homicide in as many months, I decided it was time to check out someone else's dirty laundry."
Harry nodded again. "So you're a rat."
She crossed her brow at him, picking up a few fries. "No. I'm a cop. When did you miss that?"
He put up his hands in an innocent manner. "Not at all. I'm just feeling out a rookie."
"I'm sorry... did you say 'feeling up a rookie'?" Her face was deadpan, but her eyes snapped.
I can't stop myself. I have to... "Do you believe in fate?"
She shook her head and spoke around a mouthful of fries. "No."
"Why not?"
"Because the way things get put together is just too orderly for me." She dusted her hands on her jeans and swallowed before she continued. "Just because the decisions aren't yours doesn't mean they're not decisions."
He thought about that while she messed around with her computer some more. Her laughter pulled him out of it and he tried to lean far enough over to see what she was looking at. "What's so funny?"
"Nothing," she said, shaking her head a little. "These girls are just up all night and loopy, that's all."
"For what?"
She cocked a brow at him. "Come again?"
"I'm looking for insight. What is it that can keep a whole group of women up all night on the internet?"
Posey shook her head a little, dismissing him. "Some actor. Did you ever get around to telling me why you're pestering me?"
He grinned, still playing with his new toy. "Not as yet, but I'd like to know about your little schoolgirl crush. What exactly are the requirements for getting to the heart of a Detroit homicide detective?"
She flipped her laptop shut. "Feelings."
He nodded. "The suggestion being that I don't have any."
"I'm sorry, did I get stuck in the middle of National Be A Prick Day?"
"Oh, please rest assured that I'm a prick everyday. You're just lucky enough to catch me in a sharing mood."
Posey sighed at him. "It's been really fun, Harry Denby, but I'm going to be ignoring you very shortly here."
He gave her a look of mock sorrow. "Please don't do that. I'll be heartbroken."
"You'll get over it." She flipped her laptop open and started clicking away.
He sighed dramatically. "Just another run-down random guy in a trenchcoat and dress slacks... wandering the streets of New York..."
"Better get started. It's a big city."
He heaved another sigh and stood up, pulling his gloves from his pocket. "I suppose I'll just have to accept the order here. After all, it's not my decision... is it?" He smiled as she glanced up at him.
"Mm-hm." She avoided his eyes, trying like hell to keep the smile from creeping over her face.
He took a few careful steps to stand beside her, then leaned down carefully, placing one gloved hand on the back of her chair and the other on the desk beside her computer. "Just please let me beg one question before I set off on my heartsick wanderings."
"Beg away," she replied flatly, trying to ignore the faint scent of Drakkar that came with his nearness and body heat.
"Posey?"
Her hands stilled on her keyboard, then she turned to look into his face. "Mariposa. It means..."
"Shh..." he cut her off, flashing black leather fingertips just past her mouth. "I know what it means." He took a deep breath, catching the scent of her hair, letting his eyes flow over her face for a moment. "I know."
He turned away and started walking, not even tossing a smile back at her. She sat, squirming a little, fighting a minor war inside herself. Finally, just before he left the room, she gathered a breath and blurted out her mind.
"Six thirty. I'll be here."
He didn't turn back, but his smiling voice came back to her as his footsteps faded down the stairs.
"Quite."
Continued in Part 2.
