More Than One Reason For Everything
Nathan only gives Audrey one reason for not wanting to see Jess, but, like most things in life, there's more than one reason for everything.
The night that Jess left, Nathan was sorely tempted to just go home and never come out again. But before he was able to do that, he found himself in desperate need of some form of alcohol. Something that would make his night a little easier. Anything that would make the oddness of the last few days diminish, if only while his brain tried to recover. And he knew the perfect place to get it.
The Second Chance wasn't even open when the policeman arrived in the newly reborn restaurant's parking lot. However, he knew that on Thursday nights, Duke Crocker Jr. stayed late to manage the bills and whatever other business that had gone on within the building in the past week. The policeman also knew that the smuggler did the bills with a bottle of rightly aged bourbon. The saddest thing, though, was that Nathan was willing to beg.
He parked his truck far enough from the building that Duke wouldn't be able to hear the engine, but close enough that walking wouldn't be an inconvenience after the buzzing in his head began. He closed the driver's side door softly, then took a moment to rest his forehead against the cool metal of the truck's frame. After reconsidering, the promise of a drink still outweighed the thought of how Duke would use this against him one day.
Nathan didn't bother to knock on the door before entering the bar. The bell above the door that wasn't loud enough on busy nights seemed to echo throughout the room. The policeman could hear something drop onto the bar counter before the owner sighed.
"We're closed!" Duke shouted.
He sounded like he had repeated the phrase many times and was tired of it.
"Even for me?" Nathan asked, rounding the corner into Duke's line of sight.
"Nathan," Duke sighed, "It has been a long day. I do not have any information about any case you could possibly have. I have not smuggled anything illegal recently. I haven't even started the damn bills yet. What could you possibly want?"
The smuggler said all this with his back to Nathan and his forehead resting heavily on the bar.
"I was hoping you'd be willing to pour me a drink," the cop said softly.
Duke turned to look at his visitor and, with tired eyes, took in the other man's equally disheveled appearance.
"You look like something ate you then spat you back out," Duke mumbled.
"Thanks. You look like hell."
"That's what I was aiming for," Duke said, getting up from his stool, "What do you want?"
"Anything. Everything."
"Okay. Got a preference for strength?"
"Strong."
"Wow, really bad day," Duke winced, pouring an unidentified caramel brown liquid into a glass.
He set the glass in front of the policeman.
"And you came to see me after this long day? I'm touched. How's Audrey? Or was she part of the bad in your day?"
"She wasn't intentionally. She was just trying to help," he took a long pull from his glass.
Whatever the brown liquid was, it settled like a warm blanket in his stomach.
"Don't put your glass on that," Duke said, pulling an envelope out from under Nathan's glass, "So what was so bad that Miss. FBI Agent Audrey Parker gets some of the blame?"
Nathan wasn't really sure he wanted to share with the smuggler. It wasn't something he wanted brought up in the event that the smuggler was pissed at him for some reason or another.
"If it's that bad, then maybe I don't want to know," Duke said, interrupting Nathan's thoughts.
Nathan shook his head, "Jess. Did you know about-?"
He let his question drop off.
"What? Your kind-of-but-not-really romance? I think all of Haven knows."
"She left."
Duke rested his hands on the bar softly. His demeanor changed and Nathan knew that what he told Duke from then on would be kept in confidence.
"What happened," Duke asked so quietly that Nathan almost missed it.
"Audrey didn't really get that I didn't want to, um."
"Yeah. I got it."
"But she pushed so I went along."
"You didn't tell her about-?"
"Why would I? It wouldn't have stopped her."
"Why? She's your partner! You're going to have to tell her some time."
"I just-"
"Just what? The whole town knows about it, Nathan. They all walk on egg shells around you when that time of the year rolls around. You're going to have to tell her some time, or when October gets here and you're all pissy, she'll get the story worse than it really is from someone else."
Nathan downed the rest of his glass.
"It's not going to ruin her memory, Nathan. She always hated it when the focus was on her."
The policeman nodded numbly. He hadn't planned on the conversation turning to this subject.
"Maybe I'm tired of people walking on egg shells. Alyss, she wouldn't have," Nathan said quietly.
"Alyss was one hell of a woman and my best friend. She didn't walk on anything for anyone. She believed in what she believed and she never let that stop her in anything she wanted to do. And trust me, it broke my heart that it was you she wanted to do. I almost swore not go to the wedding," Duke said thoughtfully.
"Would you really not have come?" Nathan asked, almost hurt.
"No," Duke said quietly, "I probably would have snuck in the back and then surprised her at the reception. She would have thrown her bouquet at me then laughed."
"True enough. She would have been beautiful."
"She was beautiful, even at her own funeral. I kept expecting her to sit up and scare us all, like it was some kind of joke."
"But she didn't," the policeman said mournfully.
"But she didn't," Duke echoed.
There was a silence between them that only seemed to exist when the same person was involved: Alyss Queen. She was the only reason they still remained civil towards each other. But as Nathan gazed at Duke's strong hands, and his taunt arms, and his broad shoulders, he thought that maybe she wasn't the only reason anymore. Duke caught Nathan's eyes and smiled knowingly. Nathan put his glass down on the bar and laid his hand out, palm up. Duke put the glass in the sink behind him then turned back to fit his fingers into the other man's. That was the end of the conversation.