It's tough being a boy scout
As Edie buried her head deeper into Jamie's chest to cry, he put his arm around her in comfort and solidarity, pulling her even closer and letting her know that he was there for her, whatever she needed. Leaning back against her sofa, he simply held his beautiful partner as she cried.
Jamie knew from personal experience that taking a life, no matter how necessary, was a brutal thing to do. Yes, you were trained at the academy to shoot but those paper targets shaped like human silhouettes were a far cry from actual people. For one they didn't bleed but more importantly, even as the paper came back toward the shooting area, you didn't have to watch the life drain out of the target.
There were no words. None were necessary anyway. Edie had to get it out – all the guilt, all the fear, all the horror. Her tears were cathartic. Rubbing slow circles across her back, Jamie simply was there for her. That's what partners did, he told himself, as he tried to distract himself from how soft the material of her blouse felt under his hand or how strong the muscles of her back were. He knew he was a cad for having sexual thoughts about the beautiful women crying on his shoulder. She needed a friend. She didn't need to be the object of his fantasies. What kind of jerk was he? She said this wasn't sexual.
After a while the tears subsided and Edie's body stopped convulsing. She had slid down and was laying across the couch curled on her side, her head resting on his thigh. His hand was at her waist slight above the top of her jeans. Looking down, he smiled softly at her, then moved his hand to pull her blonde hair away from her face. He couldn't help but let the golden tresses cascade through his fingers.
Edie rolled on to her back but continued using his lap as a pillow. "Hey," she opened.
"Feel better?" Jamie asked. He hadn't stopped playing with her hair.
Swallowing and looking thoughtful she answered honestly, "A little." She turned her head and looked away before continuing, "I don't know where that came from."
Jamie stopped running his fingers through her hair and gently laid his arm across her middle in a light quasi-hug. "There's a lot of emotion in this. Even if you did it to save Andy's life, and mine and maybe your own, you still shot that guy." When Edie winced at his words, Jamie clutched her a little tighter. "It was a good shoot and you know that, but it doesn't make it easier. You just have to hang onto the fact that you did what you had to do. You had no choice."
"Another pearl of Regan family wisdom?" Edie retorted more sarcastically than she intended.
"Actually," Jamie began, looking off toward Edie's kitchen, "I had a drink with my dad and Danny after my shooting. Did you know that less than 5% of all cops fire their weapon in the line of duty?"
Edie turned back and stared up expectantly at Jamie, wordlessly responding that she did know that and silently urging him to continue.
"Of those that do, only 5% of those are involved in a fatal."
"Great. It's an elite club," Edie lamented.
Jamie agreed, "That nobody wants to join." Looking down he could see that Edie was exhausted. He suspected that she hadn't slept much since the shooting. After his he'd had nightmares for weeks. "C'mon, it's time to get you to bed."
Edie quirked her eye brow at him, wordlessly injecting an element of flirtation into the situation.
Jamie instinctively deflected. "Get your mind out of the gutter and you butt in bed," he chastised jokingly pointing to her bedroom. "You need some sleep."
Rising from the couch Edie held out her hand to her partner. "Come with me?" When Jamie didn't move or respond, Edie added, "Just to sleep."
Smiling, forlornly, Jamie declined her offer. "I don't think that's such a great idea."
"When did that ever stop you?" Edie tried to lighten the mood.
"I should go," Jamie announced as he stood up.
"It's late," Edie reminded him. "You're welcome to stay."
"Nah. Maybe another time." Not really wanting to leave, Jamie stepped forward with his arms outstretched. Edie stepped willingly into his embrace and they held each other silently. Being shorter than her partner, Edie was able to press her ear to Jamie's heart. As they clung to each other neither wanting to part but knowing they had to, they both relished the temporary closeness, toeing that line Jamie wouldn't – couldn't – cross. Still, he placed a kiss into the top of her head. "Sleep well."
Leaning back, Edie looked up at the love she saw shining in Jamie's eyes. She could be patient. A love like that gets stronger. It doesn't fade. She was also confident that she never felt as safe and as cherished as when she was in Jamie's arms.
"You too," she replied softy, wishing he would stay and hold her all night. But it was bad enough that she had broken down. Now that she had regained her composure, Edie couldn't let Jamie think she was weak. She doubted he cried like a little girl when he was dealing with the aftermath of his own fatal shooting incident
Without another word, Jamie crossed the room and let himself out of the front door. Before closing it behind him, he turned to glance at Edie one more time. She looked so vulnerable – petite, hair unkempt from where he had been playing with it and eyes red rimmed from crying – but she also looked so sweet. She could see every emotion in his face, most importantly that he didn't want to leave.
When he closed the door and locked it behind him, Edie turned toward her bedroom, whispering. "Someday, Reagan. Someday."