A/N: A short, post- "Untethered" scene that's been rattling in my head.
Too Late
It had been a short meeting among Ross, the Chief of D's and his right-hand man, and Bobby –a brief fact-finding interview, followed by a scathing rant by the Chief which culminated in Bobby's suspension along with orders to report for a psych evaluation. The formal Departmental Hearing would be held within the next week or two.
Great. Something to look forward to, Ross groaned to himself as he sank into the chair behind his desk.
A sudden knock at the door startled him and, before having a chance to answer, the Chief let himself into the office, dropped his hat on the corner of the desk and claimed the chair directly across from Ross.
"Look, Danny. You and I go way back. You know it's nothing personal," the Chief began to explain. "You know I have to draw the line between friendship and work. My hands are tied."
Ross nodded his understanding while a sigh of frustration escaped his lips. "What was I supposed to do?" he asked, throwing his hands in the air. "Leave him up there at Tates to be tortured to death?"
"That would've been one way to get rid of the big pain in the ass," the Chief answered sarcastically with a smirk across his lips –a lame attempt at humor. He noticed that Danny wasn't smiling.
"Look, I'm sorry," the Chief said half-heartedly, trying to placate the Captain. "I didn't know you were so fond of the nut job." The Chief grabbed his hat from the desk and stood, heading for the door.
Anger and indignation flared through Ross as he was inexplicably overcome by feeling of protectiveness towards his Detective. As the Chief's hand reached for the doorknob, Ross' voice crisply and defiantly broke the air. "You mean 'whack job', don't you?"
The Chief turned abruptly, his face a mixture of question and growing annoyance.
"Whack job," Danny repeated. "That's what you called him a few months ago. That's what you told Kevin Quinn's widow he was….a couple of days before Goren caught his killer."
The Chief's features grew stern. He took a couple of steps back towards Ross' desk, looking at the Captain with disbelief.
"You and I both know –everybody in the damn Department knows that Jimmy Deakins' star detective isn't playin' with a full deck! And he's been on a downward spiral ever since Jimmy packed it in," the Chief barked.
Ross glared back at the Chief. "The last time I looked, my name was on the door. Major Case is my squad and Goren is part of it –probably the best part. It's funny how the brass and the Mayor always wanna be standing next to him in the photos every time he solves a big case, like the murders of Officer Quinn and Officer Dutton!"
The Chief stepped closer still. He kept his voice low, controlling it, although it was terse with anger. "I know you worked your ass off to get here, Danny –and hadda' kiss a lot of asses, too. Just remember –the gold leaf on that door scrapes off pretty damn easy. Watch your back, Danny."
The Chief turned without waiting for a response and stormed out of the Captain's office.
Ross' stomach clenched. His head began to throb. Yanking open his bottom desk drawer, he spied the contents. His eyes came to rest on the flask of bourbon and the bottle of Maalox® next to it. He grabbed for the antacid.
After taking a few minutes to calm down from the confrontation with the Chief, he wondered to himself: When the hell did that happen? And even more incredulously, how had the big, brooding, brilliant Detective managed to endear himself to the Captain?
The Chief's reprimand at their earlier meeting echoed in his head. He called me an 'accomplice'…in discrediting ways that'll be duly noted on my record. Just great.
As he sat, reflecting on the events of the past few days, he realized: His rogue actions couldn't be undone. His words to the Chief couldn't be retracted. He was tainted by his affiliation with Goren, as was Eames. It was too late for him now, also.
Fin.