Eddie could tell as soon as she saw her partner that something was on his mind.
"What's up with you?" she asked with a small smile. "Your brother say something mean at Sunday dinner again?"
"No, no, nothing like that," Jamie Reagan assured her. "How are you?"
"Ready to put on my cape and make the world a better place, one drunk EDP at a time."
That finally got him to smile and give a little chuckle. "Let's hope we don't get any of those today."
"Is it Nicky? What, does she have a new boyfriend or something?"
"Is what Nicky?" Jamie looked at her, not following her train of thought. "Do you know something I don't? Is she dating another cop?"
"Huh? No. I'm just trying to figure out why you're all quiet. Are you going to make me keep playing twenty questions? Come on, Reagan, we're partners. We tell each other everything." Eddie nudged him lightly with her elbow. She paused, thinking for a moment before continuing, "Wait, this isn't still about the hockey thing, right? What, are you going to request a new partner because I'm a Flyers fan?"
"No, Eddie, it's got nothing to do with you."
"Then what does it have to do with?"
"Where do you see yourself in a couple years? A year from now, maybe two—what does your life look like?"
Eddie frowned at him, her eyebrows knitting together. "This feels like a trick question."
"It's not," Jamie said, though it suddenly occurred to him that she might have taken his question the wrong way. "I mean with the job, nothing else. Where do you see yourself within the department?"
"I don't—Jamie, what—?" she stuttered.
"We've sort of grazed the topic before, but it's been a while. Last year you were looking to move up, get your gold shield. Is that still what you want?"
"Is this about our partnership, Jamie? Are you worried I'm going to get promoted and—and not ride with you anymore?" Eddie's voice was full of concern; she hoped that Jamie knew how important their partnership was to her, though with his levelheadedness demeanor, she wasn't sure if he truly understood. She'd made that mistake before—pursuing her own career gains without giving him the dignity of at least telling him her plans. She still had goals, though, and she hoped he knew she'd tell him, warn him, if something did come up for her. She wouldn't risk their friendship in that way again.
"It's not about that. It's about me," Jamie admitted.
Eddie looked at him expectantly. When he said nothing, she griped, "You're going to have to give me more than that, sport."
Jamie held the precinct door for her as they headed out to their RMP. "I've had a couple conversations with my dad this week. Long story short, he's concerned that he's holding me back unfairly, you know, because if the PC's son gets promoted then it'll scream favoritism. But—"
"Oh, please," Eddie scoffed. "Anyone who knows you knows that wouldn't be true."
"Yeah, I know that, and I think he does too. So we talked about why I'm still walking a beat almost seven years into my career."
"Did you tell him what you tell me all the time? Your whole spiel about beat cops being the real heroes who get to make a difference in people's everyday lives?"
"My whole spiel? That's not just a spiel, it's the truth," Jamie insisted. "But yeah, that's basically what I told him."
"So what's the big deal?" Eddie asked. "Does he think you're not—doing enough? Like, you're giving him an excuse to be lazy instead of moving up the ranks?"
"No, of course he didn't say that. But he did say that I'd be a great asset in other roles in the department, too."
"You would! If it was what you wanted, you'd make a great detective. Or you could work in intelligence or legal or—the sergeant's exam! Jamie, maybe your dad's trying to give you an extra little push!"
"But a sergeant? Spending more time at the precinct, paperwork, dealing with other cops' personal issues—I think it could take the focus off what I really want to be doing out on the streets."
"You deal with other cops' personal issues all the time! You've been like my personal therapist, dating advisor, drinking buddy…" Eddie laughed.
Jamie opened his mouth again before she could continue. "I'm your partner. That's different. But having to talk sense into every clown in the house who toes the line?"
"You do that now too," Eddie reminded him. "All the bosses who think you're the Reagan golden child haven't seen you go off on someone who pissed you off. You have better self-control than your brother but you've got the same temper."
"So I'd be a good sergeant because I have lost control and almost hit a few guys?"
"No. Because people respect you and everyone knows you're a great cop."
Jamie sighed, realizing that arguing was futile, and took a different approach. "You know, Janko, if you really want a new partner so badly you could just ask for one. You don't have to push me to get promoted and be the one to leave you first."
"Maybe if you let me drive more I wouldn't have to," Eddie retorted.
Jamie's tone suddenly became more serious. "I would miss you, though, if I wasn't riding with you every day."
Eddie was quiet. Jamie glanced over the console to see her staring at her hands.
"What, three minutes into tour and you're hungry already?" he joked.
She looked up at met his eyes. "Would it really be so bad?"
"Would what be so bad?"
"Not riding together. Look, we have a good thing going here." She waved a hand back and forth between them and then gestured around the car, indicating that she meant their work partnership. "And we've both decided that we aren't going to let personal stuff get in the way of being partners, but if the decision was made for us—if we can't ride together because you get promoted—then maybe that would open up some new opportunities."
"New opportunities," Jamie repeated. "Like exploring some of the benefits that are off-limits to two police partners."
"Yes, exactly." Eddie flicked her eyebrows at him and offered a sly smile.
Jamie grinned back and thumped the heel of his hand against the steering wheel. "There is a new angle to think about this advancement thing, I guess." His sparkling eyes reflected his light tone.
"See? Silver lining. And if you get promoted then I won't have to feel bad about finding myself a rabbi and making my way to detective."
Jamie raised his eyebrows at her. "Hey, if you feel like I'm holding back your career at all—I'd never want to do something like—you have to tell me—you can't let me and my last name affect your career like that—" he stuttered, scrambling to find the right words.
"I'm kidding, Jamie," Eddie promised, a hand landing on his arm to calm him down. "For now, as a cop, I'm where I want to be. All your talk of beat cops as heroes must've rubbed off on me."
"You're the one who always talks about wearing capes," Jamie said, relieved to hear that she didn't mean what she'd said a moment ago. "And anyway, I'm not changing my mind about going for a promotion, by the way. Sure, it wouldn't be too bad to be able to see what kind of partnership we could have outside of work. And you know that your friendship is so important to me. But I'm not letting that kind of personal influence make decisions about the job."
"I knew you wouldn't," Eddie sighed. "But it was worth a shot, right? I guess we might as well get used to the idea of Jamie Reagan, the 50-year-old beat cop, huffing and puffing behind a group of kids who robbed a bodega." She grinned. "You know, there are advantages to that, too. Like when you have to go undercover as an old person—remember, like when we were trying to nail those kids that kept robbing the elderly people on that one block? You won't even have to act! It'll just be natural!"
"Okay, okay, nobody said anything about a fifty-year-old beat cop," Jamie chortled.
"Well, you're not getting any younger."
"I'm in great shape. I work out, eat healthy…you're the one who's going to have a heart attack by the time you're fifty."
"Am not," Eddie snapped. "Oh, also, you were right."
"Right about what?"
"I am starving. Coffee and bagels?"
Jamie shook his head and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Coffee and bagels. Let's go."