Stefan rattled his glass of scotch, the ice bumping up against the sides. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, he'd have to order a few more rounds when Roy Earle was picking up the tab. He'd behave himself, of course, fine establishment that the Blue Room was. Earle wouldn't have bothered allowing him to tag along, had he not been the Golden Boy's partner.
He smirked. Cole was utterly starstruck upon entry to this place, and he could only wonder as to how enamored he would be by the enchantress Roy had promised to show him. Stefan's smirk slipped, and he thumped his thumb moodily upon the napkin beneath his glass.
Work was work, and home was home, but the lines did blur on occasion, such as when he'd asked Phelps about his preferences when it came to women. It had been in good humor that day, sunlight streaming in through the car windows, and no one but the two of them privy to the conversation.
Stefan craned his neck to look back toward the front door. Roy was another story. Cole had gotten that impression of him well enough from Roy's defense of the kiddie porn marker, but that exposure of character didn't mean the Hollywood man was out of tricks; rather he was just getting started.
Stefan turned his head back around with a sigh, tilting his glass back for another drink. Truth be told, he was jealous of Cole's rapid climb past Traffic, but that wasn't his only reaction. The man was a damn good cop and friend. It was little wonder Roy took an interest in him. He knew Traffic would eventually have bored Cole after a while, if not already, but he couldn't help his lingering possessiveness. Where his now former partner was going now, he couldn't follow, falling behind.
In that car smuggling warehouse, he'd taken out a man who'd aimed for Phelps's brain. The shot would've been quick, painless. If Cole wasn't careful around Roy, it would be much more painful. Stefan winced at the idea of Phelps's idealism being stripped off of him, bit by bit.
He thumped the empty glass back decisively down upon the table. When Phelps married, he had given his heart to a woman, who could break it if she so pleased. How a man could recover from that, let alone successfully, Stefan neither knew, nor wanted to think of. But then Cole had gone a step further, splitting his heart between her, and his love for the law, throwing himself into his profession.
Stefan knew he wasn't quite the model of a detective, much less marriage material, but he supposed it was better to agree to disagree. Cole was a grown man, and knew what he was doing.
Even so, however, he felt it hard to stifle the urge to rise from his chair, and pull his friend back before he could willingly drown himself.
Length: 492 words
Prompt: Endings—In this case, the ending of Cole's time as Stefan's partner at the Traffic desk