Red-Shirted
part three
******************* Monday, October 13, 2:14 p.m.
"Pathology."
"Hey, Grace," the voice on the phone said. "It's John."
"Well, if it isn't the invalid. The things you do to get attention, Mr. Grant. How are you feeling?"
"I'm thirty years old and I have the chicken pox, Grace," he said. "I feel like an idiot."
"Poor kid." She couldn't help but grin at the disgust in his voice. "Did you need something?"
"Yeah, on this tox report Sam brought home you said�"
Grace smiled, knowing he couldn't see her. She found it amusing how easily he could call the firehouse "home" without realizing what he was saying. It was quite obvious to almost anyone who knew him how tightly Chloe already had him wrapped around her little finger. It took someone who knew him a little better to realize how much he adored Sam. Only someone who had known him as long as Grace had could see how desperately the young man needed somewhere to call home. It was a void in his life that Grace had discovered several years ago when she had learned that the rookie cop had absolutely no plans for Christmas. The wistful look in his eyes had nearly broken her heart even as he turned down the invitation to spend the holiday with her and Morgan. It pleased her to no end to see that Sam and her tiny family finally appeared to be getting through to him. She just hoped that Sam realized he wasn't as tough as he wanted people to believe and more easily hurt than was generally suspected.
"Aren't you supposed to be resting?" she asked.
"I'm tired of resting."
******************* Monday, 2:39 p.m.
Bailey stood in the doorway waiting for her to notice he was there. She was completely absorbed in her phone conversation and didn't look up. If the totally relaxed change in her attitude hadn't been enough to tell him who was on the other end of the line, the way she watched the monitor on her desk would have made it clear. Her laughter was bright as she talked and he smiled to hear it. She didn't laugh nearly often enough in his opinion. He was startled when it suddenly occurred to him that she wasn't talking to Chloe.
As he listened to Sam's half of the conversation and watched the light in her face he began to wonder if the delicate balance of his handpicked team wasn't starting to shift. He had known for quite a while that John was fascinated by Sam although she had done nothing to encourage him. Was it possible, however, that the young man's subtle persistence was finally paying some odd dividends? Very few people could turn chicken pox into an advantage. Could John have found a way to do it?
As she laughed again Bailey shook his head. Sam was a big girl. She could make her own choices. And her own mistakes. He just hoped that her ultimate decision wouldn't tear his VCTF apart.
******************** Monday, 2:40 p.m.
"I swear, Sam, if I have to sit through one more Disney movie your VCR is going to have a serious and possibly fatal encounter with a third story window and the law of gravity."
"It sounds like someone has been watching too much television."
"You're not kidding! I'm going crazy, Sam, and those videos aren't helping. Have you watched those things? Every one of them has the teenaged princess, mermaid, or French peasant girl getting married at the end. Except Alice� and that movie has the whole psychedelic drug thing going on. Then there's the Hunchback movie. I read that book in high school, Sam. Nobody lived happily ever after in it except the damn goat. And their version of Greek mythology is even more screwed up than that television show� And Pocahontas, Sam, I can't believe you're letting her watch that! Chloe's going to be devastated when she starts studying real history and finds out what really happened."
"John," Sam could barely choke out his name through her laughter. He was practically raving. She could tell that he was feeling much better and that his forced inactivity was making him want to climb the walls. "Take a breath. They're just movies."
"Then could I talk you into bringing me some Jackie Chan movies?"
"Who?" She had to wipe at her eyes. Since he had fixed her hot chocolate with cereal bits it had been much easier for John to make her laugh. "John, I have to go. Bailey's calling a meeting."
"Could you at least bring me some work to do? Please? I'll even do paperwork."
"Try "The Great Mouse Detective". It's pretty good."
"Sam!"
***************** Monday, 6:43 p.m.
Coop knocked on the frame of Sam's office door. "Buy you dinner?" he offered.
"Oh, Coop." She looked up at him through a cascade of blonde hair. "Actually, I was trying to leave early enough to get home before Chloe went to bed. I feel like I haven't seen her in days."
"Grant still looking after her?"
"Yes."
"He's� staying with you?" He frowned at her instant of hesitation.
"Yes." She continued shuffling papers on her desk as she answered.
"Does he really have to? Can't you just send him home when you get in?" he asked. He had finally come all the way into her office but still hadn't crossed the room.
"Coop, I can't keep dragging him out of bed at three in the morning to come back and look after her. It's the simplest way to do it."
"Why doesn't one of those agents that stays downstairs look after her?"
"Because they're paid to guard her, not baby-sit her." She looked like she was starting to get annoyed but he pushed it anyway.
"So? Grant's not getting paid to do either. Why are you letting him do this?"
"Because Chloe likes him." She paused. He had a feeling he wasn't going to like what she said next. He was right. "And I trust him. I would� I do trust him with her life. I trust him to protect her better than anyone I could hire. Who I choose to look after my daughter has nothing to do with you or our relationship."
"Don't you think it does if he's living in your house?"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing." If she didn't see it, he wasn't about to point it out to her. Not that he was worried. Grant was just a kid; way too young for Sam. But the boy had an unhealthy interest in another man's girlfriend and it was going to get him in trouble sooner or later. There was no way Coop was going to lose a wonderful woman like Sam to some wet-behind-the-ears street cop who had probably still been in grammar school when he was starting his first assignment with the ATF. He'd even heard rumors that Grant had ties to a major mob family and that Grant wasn't even his real name. No way was he going to lose Sam to a kid like that. "I just don't like him staying there."
"You don't have anything to worry about, Coop. He's just looking after Chloe, which is what I'm headed home to do." She had finished clearing her desk and picked up the folders she was taking with her. "They'll both be well soon and things will be back to normal. Then we can go out to dinner." She herded him toward the door and closed it behind them. "I'll see you tomorrow."
He frowned as she walked away. No way was he going to lose her to John whatever-his-name-really-was Grant.
***************** Monday, 7:32 p.m.
"All I could remember was Charlie Chan," Sam said as she dropped the blue box over the back of the sofa and into John's lap, "and I was pretty sure that wasn't what you'd said. So I got this instead."
He picked up the video warily but his eyes widened in surprise as he read the title. "How did you know? This is my favorite movie."
"I know you," she smiled. "You're an Eliot Ness kind-of guy."
"What did you bring me?" Chloe asked hopefully.
"Well, Uncle Bailey sent this to you." She dug a small box out of her purse.
Chloe eagerly tore the paper off the package then looked at it in puzzlement. "What is it? Blocks?"
"They're called dominoes," her mother explained.
"A polka-dotted game for a polka-dotted girl," John grinned. Sam rolled her eyes at him while Chloe merely looked baffled.
"It's a game?"
"Yes," Sam said. "Do you want me to show you how to play?"
Sam handed her file folders to John then sat down on the floor with Chloe. John settled back on the sofa to read her updated notes as Sam began teaching Chloe the rules. She thoroughly enjoyed getting to spend the evening with her daughter. Watching the delight on Chloe's face as she won a round was worth more than anything she could think of. They played until it was time for the girl to go to bed.
"Tell John he has to come tuck me in, too," Chloe said as Sam folded the blanket at the end of the bed.
Curious about the ritual that had apparently developed over the past few nights, Sam stood unobtrusively outside the doorway as John took his turn. She was astonished to hear his voice softly sing a song from the Mary Poppins movie. If she remembered correctly it was called "Stay Awake". He has been watching an awful lot of Disney movies lately, she thought. He probably has half of them memorized by now. Knowing he would be mortified to discover that Sam had heard him she quietly went back to the living room and waited for him to return.
"So, is this a good movie?" she asked when he came back.
His expression was stunned. "You've never seen it?"
"Once, I think. A long time ago."
"It's only the best movie ever made, Sam." He pushed the tape into the VCR. "How did you know? About Eliot Ness?"
"High school American history."
"You know what I mean." He tossed a sofa pillow at her. "He was a childhood hero of mine."
"It shows," she nodded. "Maybe that was it. You remind me of him. Dedicated. Determined�"
"If you say dependable you've got the channel 2 news slogan."
"I was going to say persistent, but dependable works, too."
Despite her expectations she found herself enjoying the movie. She wouldn't go so far as to say it was the best she had ever seen, but it was interesting. Occasionally she would catch herself watching John instead of the movie, though. Watching his face change in anticipation of his favorite scenes was nearly as entertaining as the scenes themselves. It was easy to see the appeal that Eliot Ness held for the son of a real mobster. She wasn't at all surprised that John had seen the Treasury Agent as something of a role model as a child. Prying anything out of him about his early years was practically impossible, but she could imagine that they hadn't been very pleasant. It must have been rather comforting to see the good guys win, even if it was just in the movies and history books.
When the movie was over John hit the rewind button and gave Sam a speculative look. "When's Angel coming back?"
"Wednesday. Wednesday night. I think Chloe will be okay to go back to school on Thursday."
He nodded slowly. "Guess I'll plan on coming back to work on Thursday then, too."
"You think you'll feel like it?"
"Yeah," his shrug was noncommittal, though. "I feel okay� but looking after Chloe has been kind of fun� like a vacation or something. I wouldn't mind a couple more days."
"I believe the term is slacker, Mr. Grant."
He laughed. "On the other hand, I feel like I've been out of the loop for a month. It would be kind of nice to get back to work, too."
"Looks like I'm not going to be able to get rid of you no matter what, am I?" She meant it as a joke and he smiled at it, but she saw a veiled sadness in his eyes. She reached toward him and pressed the back of her hand against his forehead. "Go to bed, John," she said softly. "Get some rest. It's late."
He closed his eyes briefly and nodded.
***************** Tuesday, October 14, 9:44 a.m.
"They're trying to make me crazy."
"You like having him there, don't you?" Grace asked softly.
"He's been a lifesaver and he's great with Chloe."
"That's not what I asked, Sam."
Sam looked away for a moment. There was nothing she looked forward to more than going home to her daughter at the end of the day. Her home was her refuge from the insanity of the world. It was her sanctuary, protecting everything she held dear. Somehow, over the past few days John had become part of that sanctuary and Sam realized that she was starting to look forward to going home to him as well.
"I'm getting used to having him around," she admitted quietly.
"You don't have to let him leave."
"He's not a puppy, Grace. I can't keep him just because Chloe and Denzel are attached to him."
"There are other reasons to keep him. Aren't there?"
Sam ran her hand through her hair out of habit, pulling it away from her face. She really didn't want to think about what Grace was asking. She couldn't pretend not to understand.
"It's not that simple."
"What's not simple about it?"
Instead of answering Sam stared off at a spot somewhere behind Grace. Grace turned to see a tall, dark man walking toward them.
"It's still simple, Sam," Grace said as Coop approached. "Just figure out which one of them makes you happy. You'll know." She looked at Sam curiously and grinned. "Denzel likes him, too?"
Sam laughed. "Follows him everywhere. Pathetic, isn't it? My daughter loves him. My dog loves him. I..." She stopped suddenly, realizing where she was heading. "I may have a mutiny on my hands if I don't start spending more time at home," she tried to regain a bantering tone.
"Well, you know what they say about dogs and children..." Grace said as a parting shot.
"What?"
"They're good judges of character. Trust them."
************** Tuesday, 10:42 p.m.
He had never really paid much attention when they had covered forensic psychology in any of his criminology classes in college. Or at the police academy. Or, to tell the truth, at Quantico either. It was a section of the coursework that had persistently frustrated him. It had never made much sense and he hadn't seen the point. He didn't care why criminals did things; he just wanted to stop them. Seeing Sam make it work for her, though, was beginning to change his opinions. He'd found a criminology textbook that looked like it should have been familiar and a couple of her old psychology books that were basic enough not to lose him completely and started to review. He thought he might be starting to get a better handle on what it was that she was doing when she looked at a crime scene. He was also beginning to wonder what else he might have missed by sleeping through classes he didn't like.
He looked up at the groan of the elevator and automatically glanced down the hallway toward Chloe's room. She had wanted to stay up waiting for her mother to come home but had finally let John tuck her in at about forty-five minutes ago. He doubted she was still awake. He scanned the living room and realized Sam would probably kill him. The bowls of spagetti-o's that they'd had for dinner were still on the coffee table. Chloe's schoolbooks were all over the kitchen table and Sam's textbooks were all over the sofa. He looked at her guiltily when she walked in.
"Good grief, John. What have you two done to this place?" Despite her words, she seemed more amused than annoyed. He relaxed a little.
"You don't like the redecoration?"
"Did she at least get the rest of her homework done?" she asked as she stared at the mess in the kitchen.
"Yeah." He managed to look sheepish when she picked up the dinner dishes. "I was going to get to those�"
"Of course, you were." She came back and waited while he stacked the books on the floor beside the sofa. She sat down next to him and pulled the day's reports out of her briefcase.
He was glad she kept bringing the notes home to him. He hated being left out of things and since they didn't seem much closer to catching the Mississippi killer it looked like it was a good thing Sam was keeping him up-to-date. He wouldn't be too far behind everyone else when he got back to work. They discussed the case and talked about Chloe for nearly an hour before she ordered him off to bed. He was really going to miss their late night talks when he eventually went home again.
**************
on to part four