Setting the pitcher of beer and two pint glasses down on the high top where Edie was seated, Jamie slid into the vacant barstool across from her. McMurphy's was getting crowded with the various cops pouring in after tour. While Jamie was getting settled, Edie began to serve their libations.
"Did you mean what you said earlier back at the house?" Edie inquired seemingly absently.
Despite her casual words, the hair on the back of Jamie's neck bristled. Something big was coming at him but he didn't know what.
"What you said to Gabe, about there being no laws against love," Edie clarified before taking a sip of her beer.
"That ah," Jamie paused for a sip of his own, trying to buy time to formulate a response and figure out where his partner was going with this. "That is not exactly what I said."
Edie frowned. Jamie was being evasive. "Yes, it is. I heard you."
"No, what I said was he and Liza were in love and there was no law against love that I was going to enforce," Jamie explained.
Edie scowled. Jamie knew from the look on her face that she didn't see the difference.
"There are plenty of laws against love. There are age of consent laws. There are prohibitions against doctors sleeping with patients, teachers sleeping with students . . ." Jamie elaborated.
Edie mumbled, "Partners sleeping with each other."
Jamie took a deep breath now that he understood Edie's inquiry. This was about them. He looked at her somberly before declaring, "You know it's more complicated then that."
"Do I?" Edie mocked.
It was Jamie's turn to scowl.
"It's like . . . for everybody else you . . . you wear your heart on your sleeve and you go out of your way to make sure people who care about each other can be together," Edie explained.
"We are together. Every day," Jamie assured her.
"In an RMP. That's not together. That's partners," Edie differentiated. "I'm talking about being TOGETHER, you know, really together. Outside of work," Edie emphasized.
"We're together now. This isn't work," Jamie reminded her knowing that sharing a beer was a far cry from sharing their lives and sharing a bed. It's not like he didn't want that. It is just that he loved having Edie by his side day in and day out. She's what made still being a patrol officer bearable. If they split up, he would have to deal with the reality that he was stuck as a beat cop until his father wasn't Commissioner any more.
"Stop playing dumb, Reagan," Edie admonished. "It doesn't suit you."
Jamie stared forlornly at the blonde across the table. "We've talked about this."
"And talked about it," Edie agreed.
"We risk a lot," Jamie recapped.
"It's a risk either way," Edie pointed out.
"Which is why we agreed to leave things as they are," Jamie stated.
"But . . ." Edie began but then stopped and looked away.
"Do you want to change things?" Jamie asked cautiously.
"Yes," Edie replied but immediately took it back. "No, but . . . . I just wish . . . you know . . . there was a way to have both."
Jamie shook his head. "Losing focus. That would be dangerous out on the street."
"Still . . ." Edie wished.
Jamie took a long swallow draining his glass. As he poured himself another beer, Edie finished her drink too and he refilled her glass from the pitcher in his hand. Setting the pitcher down, Jamie picked up his glass and held it toward Edie. "Partners," he offered by way of a toast.
She clicked her glass against his and half-heartedly repeated, "Partners."
Under their breath unheard by the other, both partners whispered, "for now," silently vowing that one day the nature of their relationship would change.
A/N: If you have a reaction to this story, I'd welcome feedback. But please don't use this story to tell me how much you want me to finish my unfinished piece. If I was able to write that story I would but it's not flowing. All the reminders that I failed only serve to depress me. I'd prefer if everybody stopped pointing out my shortcoming.