SHOW'S OVER!
Baltimore, Maryland
John Munch's pronouncement of "I'm too damn sober," had prompted Lennie Briscoe and Rey Curtis to follow him back inside the Waterfront Bar. An hour later, Briscoe was nursing a club soda while Curtis was on his fourth beer. Meanwhile, Munch looked to be 'well into his cups'. Plastered, snockered, smashed, three sheets to the wind…Funny how there are so many ways to say a person is just plain old drunk, Briscoe thought, looking around at his companions. I've never seen Rey get really drunk. I guess he's figured out that Deborah wouldn't approve. Not that it ever stopped me when I was married…
"Ready for another round?" Meldrick Lewis asked, interrupting his thoughts.
"Nah. I think it's time Rey and I called it a night. We've got an early train in the morning."
"Suit yourself. As soon as I close up, I'm gonna make sure the Munchkin gets home okay," Lewis told him, wiping down the bar.
"Looks like we did some more damage," Briscoe began.
"Especially your partner. Forget about it. When we end up in New York, you can buy the drinks," Lewis answered.
"Sounds fair enough to me. Ready to go, Rey?" Briscoe asked, pulling on his coat.
"Yeah.' He stood up and pulled on his own coat, showing no effects of the beers he'd consumed.
"See you later," Munch said, lifting his glass in a mock salute to the two New York City detectives.
"Next time you're in our fair city, look us up," Briscoe replied as he and Curtis headed outside.
Once they were at their car, Curtis got in the passenger side, fastening his seat belt. He handed Briscoe the keys and sat staring straight ahead, apparently lost in thought.
Briscoe silently started the car. At the late hour, traffic was light so they made good time returning to their hotel. Pulling into the garage, he glanced over at Curtis. "You all right, Rey?" he asked quietly.
Curtis looked up, startled, and then replied. "Yeah. I'm okay." He got out of the car and headed for the stairs. Stopping outside his door, he fumbled in his pocket for the keys. "Goodnight, Lennie."
Instead of taking the hint and heading for his own room, Briscoe quickly followed him inside. He'd worked with Curtis long enough that he could usually tell when something was bothering the younger man. "Want to talk about it?" he asked softly.
Curtis had draped his coat over a chair and was undoing his tie. He shook his head and then sighed, asking "If I talk, will this get you out of my room?"
"Yeah," Briscoe said, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.
Curtis moved to stare out the window. "I can't do this anymore," he said after a pause.
"Do what?" Briscoe prompted.
"Work cases that take me out of the city, down here to Baltimore. I can't leave Deborah alone so often—not with her having to take care of the girls." He was silent for a moment before continuing, "I don't mind working with other cops--I like Lewis, Shepherd, Bayliss…. Hell, I even like Munch."
"Now, I know you've had too much to drink," Briscoe joked but immediately turned serious. "How's she doing?"
"Not good, Lennie. This past year, her MS has progressed faster than anyone expected—including her doctor. She's starting to be in a lot of pain," Curtis said softly. He turned to face Briscoe.
"I'm sorry to hear that, Rey." His words felt inadequate even as he said them.
"I've made up my mind, I'm getting out of Homicide as soon as I can get a transfer," Curtis told him. "Deborah wants me on a desk job and I need to be home more for her and the girls."
"Does Van Buren know you want out?" Briscoe asked after a moment.
"LT knows. Says she can't afford to have me transfer out. But there may come a time when she's got no choice." He sat down on the edge of the bed and rested his forehead on his hand. "Lennie, it just hurts me to see Deborah like this and nothing I can do to help her." His voice was barely a whisper as he fought to retain control.
"Why don't you call her tonight? Maybe you'll feel better once you've talked." Briscoe suggested.
"I'd only wake her up," Curtis replied. He abruptly got to his feet. "I'll call in the morning. Goodnight, Lennie."
"Good night, Rey," Briscoe said. He got to his feet. "I'll see you in the morning." He genuinely liked Curtis and knew that it would only be a matter of time before he left the 2-7.