Culpable
AUTHOR: Kate.
DISCLAIMER: NYPD Blue and its characters are Copyright Steven Bochco Productions and/or ABC. No copyright infringement is intended.
FEEDBACK: To Kate
"You told me, I'd see you rise. But it always falls. I see you come, I see you go."
Diane, mind wandering, tapped the steering wheel to the beat of the song.
"...And I say 'oh no sir, I must say you're wrong. I must disagree, oh no sir. I must say you're wrong.'Won't you listen to me? Goodbye horses, I'm flying over you..."
Humming along, Diane, never able to hit anything lower than a middle C, made the little 'oohooo' noises along with Q. Lazzarous's 'Goodbye Horses'. Her bouncy curls brushed across her shoulders, clad in red, as the song drifted into an end. The silence after it's finale was deafening, so she scrambled to turn on the radio. Satisfied with the top forty radio that greeted her in it's low-grade grandeur, she turned down the volume and shifted her seat in the car, scooting up to adjust the blanket that was thrown over the leather of the seat cover.
She had had sufficient time to think. Merrian, whoever that was, had made a swift departure, which was sure not to last long at all. The conclusion she had come to was that Diane was seriously messing with some spiritual law that would have major reprocussions unless she dealt with it, appropriately.
Diane kept arguing to herself that it was too late for that, and, in a way that she would not yet comprehend, she was right. She couldn't reverse the awful deeds that she had done, or was planning to do. Her jaded mind failed to comprehend that.
"What complete bullshit," she muttered to herself, trying to kick the ever-frustraighting habit of complete and tedious inner babble. "What a crock of shit." She grunted and tossed her head to the side, twisting the steering wheel into the precinct parking lot.
Danny and Andy, who were climbing out of their car, acknowledging her with nods. She gave a faint smile and fluttered her hand at them. Danny dragged back behind Andy, looking like he wanted to stay behind and speak with her. Diane gritted her teeth; please, please, don't do this to me. I can't handle your whining.
Oh, Diane. You've never been this hostile!
If Diane had been driving, her car would have slammed into the vehicle in front of her.
"Denby!?" She squealed, gripping her hands around the steering wheel so hard she thought her knuckles would pop out of her skin.
Yeah?
Diane whimpered and laid her head to rest on the wheel.
"Oh, this is just getting too weird."
Aw, come on Diane. It can't be that weird. After all, you have already come to the conclusion that you're crazy. This is all part-and-parcel of the whole thing.
His voice sounded as if he was holding back a chuckle. Diane's lower lip curled a little as she picked up her purse, tried to find some loose St. John's Wart that she always kept in there, and finally slamming it down when it was nowhere to be found.
"Why do you plague me, Denby?"
You didn't answer my question.
"You didn't ask a damn question." Unlike Merrian, Harry made no comment about her speaking out loud.
Do you know what the word 'imply' means, darling?
Diane snorted as she flipped the car visor up roughly.
"I'm not your darling, and I know what the word imply means. However, having been on the end of your verbal jurisdiction and maneuvering, and I'm not in any rush to be there again."
Denby laughed. Diane found it strangely comforting.
Well, I expected you to at least deny that you thought you were crazy. You always were riled when I said something that you didn't want to hear.
"Go to hell, Denby," Diane muttered under her breath. Denby pointedly ignored the remark and pressed forward.
But I still would like an answer.
"About what," she asked, flicking an imaginary piece of lint off of her shoulder.
Do you think you're crazy?
After he was silent, Diane felt the echo of his words hang in the small space of the car. The impact of his words on her hung in there too, crackling in the awkward silence. After a moment of contemplation, Diane slipped her hands back over the wheel. Still, another moment past. Then, as if something had occurred to her, she sat straight up and folded her hands neatly in her lap. When she answered him, her eyes were trained on those hands.
"I don't know. I can't...I can't answer that."
That's okay, Diane. I never expected that you would answer me, anyway.
There. With those stupidly phrased words, the passiveness in Diane vanished. Her eyes, flashing, scoured the car, as if she could spot his absent form.
"What was that supposed to mean?"
It meant whatever you take it to mean. A beat, where Diane became even more tense, and the air in the car even more hostile. No, what I wanted to say just came out wrong.
"Well that's uncommon."
Not as much as you might think.
The meaning in his words was obvious from his tone. She felt really uncomfortable then, and wished she could burst out of the car. Right by Diane's car, a bird landed. She pretended to be fascinated with it's scavenging for food.
I don't imagine your reply is on the concrete, Diane.
A thought struck her. She averted her gaze from the little bird, now happily engaged with some bread crumbs, and once again looked for Denby's form in the car.
"How can you see me?"
That question will be answered all in good time. For now, though, I want you to do me a favor.
"What do you want me to do?"
Reverse fate.
Continued in Part 4.
