Disclaimer: Blind Justice and all related characters and concepts belong to ABC. This fanfiction was written for enjoyment and to entertain other Blind Justice fans. No profit is being made, and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended or implied.
Spoilers: None.
Rating: PG.
Please leave feedback! It motivates me to write more…
Anne sighed heavily and rubbed a frustrated hand from forehead to chin. Refocusing her eyes, she tried again to concentrate on the report in front of her. Finally she gave up, snapping the folder closed and tossing it down onto the desk in front of her. She glanced at her watch and sighed again.
"What is with you today?" Anne looked up to meet the questioning gaze of her partner, Matt Duran, who occupied the desk next to hers.
She shrugged. "Just bored. You know me – I'd rather be out on the street any day." Pushing back her chair with a vengeance, she stood and grabbed the brown leather shoulder bag that was hanging over the back of her chair. "Listen, I'm going to take off a little early for lunch. Gonna meet up with an old friend over at the 8 and drop off that file for the lieutenant. I'll be back by 1:30."
Pushing through the heavy front door of the building, Anne closed her eyes for a moment and inhaled deeply, allowing the sunshine and early April breeze to lift her spirits and bolster her courage. Someone brushed against her roughly, and she opened her eyes to realize she was still standing in the doorway of her precinct. An officer in a blue uniform that matched her own threw an irritated glance back over his shoulder at her, but she barely noticed. Instead, she distractedly pushed back a stray lock of wispy blond hair that had slipped out of the tortoiseshell clip she wore at the nape of her neck, and set off toward her marked police cruiser halfway down the block.
As she pulled out into traffic, deliberately cutting off a speeding BMW, Anne wondered why again she had agreed to do this. Because you have this file for Lieutenant Fisk. And you want to have lunch with your friend, the one you've been studiously avoiding. And it's not like you can go the rest of your life without running into him.
After a moment, she let out a short, wry laugh. Amazing – and ironic – how she faced dangerous situations every week as a beat cop without a second thought, but the thought of coming face-to-face again with James Dunbar had her heart racing and her mouth as dry as sandpaper.
"I'm going to take Hank out. Then you wanna go grab some lunch somewhere?"
Karen looked up from the papers in front of her to find Jim standing between his and her desks, facing where he knew her to be sitting, already wearing his overcoat. "Yeah, sure…no!" she backtracked quickly.
Jim flashed her one of his crooked smiles, revealing perfect white teeth. "Is that your final answer?" His sunglasses partially masked his expression, and Karen wished for the hundredth time that he'd just leave them at home. Maybe if she could see his eyes, she wouldn't have to guess at what he was thinking and feeling, as she usually did. Though she suspected that to be the very reason for the sunglasses' presence in the first place – to keep other people from having the advantage of reading his face when he couldn't do the same. One day she was going to ask him about it.
"Karen? Something wrong?" Jim's puzzled tone of voice startled her out of her little reverie, and, realizing she'd been staring at him, she was grateful that he was unaware of it.
"Uh, no, sorry. I just…I just have plans for lunch already. Do you want me to pick you up a sandwich or something?"
Jim frowned slightly. The way she'd phrased that last question left no doubt that he wasn't invited. Of course she was allowed to eat without her partner, but in the month or so since he'd been working there, Karen had never had "plans" at lunchtime that completely excluded him.
"Nah, that's okay. I've been meaning to try that hot dog stand on the corner anyway. It always smells so good when we go by." He turned then, issuing a command to Hank, who promptly arose and trotted over the few steps to stand beside his master. Before Karen could say another word, Jim grabbed the dog's harness and the pair headed off.
Karen sighed, but barely had two seconds to worry over hurting her partner's feelings before she saw Anne Donnelly approach the squad room from the opposite direction in which Jim had gone. Anne hesitated when she reached the corner of Lieutenant Fisk's office, and Karen knew her friend wasn't only just looking for her. She was making sure Jim was nowhere around.
Lifting her hand in a wave, Karen quickly got Anne's attention, and the younger woman headed over to her. "Hi," Anne greeted her, and her breathy, slightly shaky voice gave away her nervousness. Her eyes swept over the surrounding desks, and landed on the one with the flat scanner and other electronic equipment that set it apart from the rest.
"He went to lunch," Karen said, one corner of her mouth upturned.
Anne met her gaze and a faint pink stained her cheeks as she flashed her friend a self-conscious smile. "What are you talking about?" she asked, feigning innocence. "I came to have lunch with an old friend who's been too busy lately."
"Yeah, right," Karen scoffed. "I must've left what, two messages for you and come by your squad at least once, looking for you?"
Anne shrugged, putting down her shoulder bag and propping a hip on the side of Karen's desk. "Sorry. I'm just making excuses, and you know it. I…I wasn't ready to chance running into him, and you're with him pretty much all the time now, I guess."
It was Karen's turn to shrug. "Pretty much. We're partners, you know? Not that I had a say in that decision."
Anne exhaled sharply. "Yeah – it's weird, isn't it? I spent all those nights crying on your shoulder over this guy, and now you're partnered up with him."
"It's weird," Karen agreed. "But…I don't know, I know he screwed you over, but…I think he's changed."
Anne rolled her eyes. "Yeah, he's changed, but not because he had an epiphany and realized what an ass he was. More like because now he can't check out and come on to every female in the department anymore." Some bittnerness crept into her last words, despite her resolve to keep her emotions in check. "Doesn't mean he wouldn't if he could."
Karen's face softened sympathetically. She disagreed, knowing Jim as she was beginning to, but it wasn't the time or place to try to argue with her friend. After all, who knows how she would've felt if she'd been the one who'd been deceived and strung along for two months. "Didn't you say you had something for my boss?" she asked, changing the subject.
"Oh, yeah." Anne stooped down to rummage through her shoulder bag, pulling out an accordion file filled with papers. "From Captain DiMarco at my squad. Could you make sure Fisk gets it this afternoon?"
"Sure, no problem." Karen put it on the desk. "So, how's work treating you?"
"Oh, it's good. You know Matt and I get along great. And I know you couldn't wait to be plainclothes, but I'm happy on the street."
Karen smiled impishly. "What can I say? I couldn't handle the uniform. Looks good on you, but I just looked like a eighth-grade hall monitor or something."
Their laughter carried across the squad room and down the short hallway where Jim was returning from walking Hank. He'd decided against the hot dog idea, having realized he wasn't hungry enough to go to the trouble. He was planning to just stay at his desk and go over his notes from their current case. Although the screenreader and other software allowed him to keep up with his reporting responsibilities, it still took him a lot longer than it did the other detectives.
Since Karen was leaning against her desk with her back to the squad room, Anne saw Jim first, and her eyes widened. Seeing the reaction, Karen turned and followed her gaze to see her partner approaching. Both women were silent as he let Hank go ahead and held out a hand to brush Marty's chair on his way back to his desk. He shrugged out of his coat and felt for his own chair, draping the coat over it. Then he cocked his head slightly, listening.
"Karen, you still there?" Even amid the typical noise of the squad room, he knew she was, but she usually made the effort to greet him or make some sound to alert him of her presence.
Karen cleared her throat and shifted her feet, shooting a glance at her friend for some guidance as to how to handle the situation. "Uh, yeah. Sorry. Thought you were going out for a hot dog."
Jim didn't answer right away. Puzzled, his brow furrowed as he turned in her direction, a hand still on the back of his chair. He could tell that someone other than Karen was nearby, and he knew from their combined laughter that the someone was female. Silence was often the reaction of people with no experience dealing with blind people, and that was why Karen usually piped up with an introduction right away. Why wasn't she doing that now? he wondered.
"Decided not to," he finally replied. "I thought you were going out. I thought I heard…was someone here with you a minute ago?"
Karen sighed quietly. Why couldn't he be a little less observant, just this once? She turned to Anne again, raising an eyebrow as if to ask what she wanted to do.
Anne gathered her courage and took a breath, trying to calm herself. She couldn't let Karen cover for her. The moment she'd been both dreading and working up to had arrived. "It's me, Jimmy. Anne," she said simply. She crossed her arms and steeled herself for whatever came next.
Jim was a typical cop, poker face included, so Karen was surprised to see him react visibly to her greeting. His mouth opened a little in surprise, and he let go of his chair, taking a little step backwards to bang up against the file cabinet directly behind his desk. Obviously discomfited, he adjusted his sunglasses and then removed them. The phone on his desk chose that moment to start ringing shrilly, but he ignored it, fiddling with the sunglasses with both hands.
"Anne…" he began, trying not to reveal to them the shock he felt at hearing her voice. His voice was soft, hesitant, almost apologetic. "Ahh…how are you?" Jim kept his head up, looking in their general direction. He constantly fought a natural inclination to look down or to the side, to keep an ear directed toward the conversation instead. And at that particular moment, he was also fighting a distinct desire to crawl beneath his desk alongside Hank.
"I'm good," she said tightly. "You?" Anne marveled at the inanity of exchanging such pleasantries after what both of them had been through in the past year. But she certainly wasn't prepared for or interested in having a conversation of any substance with the man, either.
Jim lifted one shoulder. "Can't complain," he replied casually. "I'm…I'm back at work, and I got lucky in getting paired up with Karen." After the words were out of his mouth, he realized that the innocent statement could, and probably would, be misinterpreted by his former girlfriend.
Karen snorted indelicately. "Yeah, whatever. So, uh, we're gonna get going. I'll be back in an hour, 'k, Jimmy?" She quickly slid into her leather jacket and slung her purse over her shoulder, catching Anne's eye and angling her head in a silent directive.
"Yeah, okay. Hey, take your time. And…" Jim faltered again, at a loss for words. He wanted to say something, anything, before he heard their retreating footsteps and he lost his chance. "Anne…good to…see you again. Take care." Not completely appropriate, but it was the best he could come up with under the circumstances.
"I will. You, too." Anne knew Karen was anxious to break the awkwardness and get out of there, but she couldn't tear her eyes away from him. It was the first time she'd seen him since he'd lost his sight; actually, the first time since she'd thrown him out of her apartment, hurt beyond belief. Unless you counted the times she'd seen his picture in the paper when he'd been fighting the city to get his badge back. He was still as handsome as ever.
Clashing emotions roiled inside her – sorrow, anger, sympathy, hurt, forgiveness, resentment. This was a man she'd loved, even after only two months. He'd done a terrible thing, but he'd been so good to her before that. And he'd been a good cop. Was still, she supposed. No matter what, he didn't deserve what had happened to him, and Anne was genuinely glad to see him reclaiming his life. She just hoped he didn't reclaim all his old ways. Especially not now that the only female in his immediate vicinity was one of her closest friends.
After a second that seemed to last an hour, Anne bent, picked up her shoulder bag, and followed Karen from the squad room. As she got further away from him, the tension she'd been carrying started slipping away. She began to breathe more easily, and her step lightened. The next time she saw him, it would be easier. Maybe she could let the hurt go—and let him go—after all.