"Wait, so is your mom Wikipedia?"
That was the first text message I received on Saturday morning.
He'd asked me to stay, but I refused. I wouldn't, I couldn't.
I've only stayed over at his place twice. Of course there was Thursday night after beer. And the other was after the most excruciating case of my short federal agent career. Not that it was really that grotesque or violent, but it was the first time I almost died.
It was the day I learned that I could trust my partner.
CGIS isn't known for taking down terrorists, but occasionally, we do. Its the same thing with undercover work. There isn't a lot, but it does happen. We're more likely to get blown up in an oil rig than get killed by some punk with a gun. But at least once a week someone is pointing a barrel at me.
I'm not perfect. I've done the training and all, but I've only been an agent for about a year. There's a big thing I'm still learning, have your partner's back, but also have your own.
And I was too busy keeping him safe that I almost got killed myself.
That bullet whooshed past my ear. I can still hear it. Had MJ not shot the guy and pushed me as hard as he could, I wouldn't be here.
And that night, I stayed.
He had beer, the kind I like even, and he had an understanding of what was going on in my head even when I wouldn't tell him. And somehow, he ended up learning that I trust him.
There were a lot of nights on his couch after that. None that were all night affairs. But plenty of movies and long, useless talks. And beer. He always has a six pack of my favorite beer.
So after a long talk, I found myself driving home at 2 am, trying to keep my emotions locked up where they belong. He fought so hard for me to stay. He tried, "it's late," and "you're tired," and even "you can take the bed, I'll sleep on the couch."
I couldn't possibly sleep in his bed. I didn't want my heart to palpitate out of my chest.
I knew I just needed to get home.
My apartment isn't glamorous, its actually quite a mess. Sammy and Max put me to shame. She's actually got quite the sense of style. Yeah, Nell's daughter alright. But they've been married for a good three years, of course they have their shit together.
I look at my brother and I look at my life and its incredibly obvious who's made the good choices. Mom and Dad did warn me about the 'perks' of this job. Not much of a life.
I am kind of bad ass though. That's nice. But in ways, it would be nice to have what my brother has. I'm can't see myself with kids anytime soon. Hell, I can't see myself even living with anyone else. Mom seems to think I'll grow out of that.
I picked my phone up to respond to MJ's message. "Yeah. She's Wikipedia."
"This is insane," he responded.
"You're telling me."
"Are you sure you don't wanna tell our dads?"
"Not yet."
"But your Mom knows."
"She won't tell him."
"You sure?"
"Positive."
"You're not doing things behind my back, are you? Partners don't keep secrets."
Is he inside my head? He's inside my head.
"What are we, kindergartners?"
"That's what we're acting like. Listen, we're adults. We don't depend on our parents anymore. We can do whatever the hell we want. Who gives a damn what our dads say?"
"You think they'll be upset?"
"I think they'll find it amazing and cool and try to meddle."
"Meddle? And do what, exactly?"
"I don't know. Make us be friends and stuff."
"We're not already... friends?"
"Of course we are. I don't want that to get lost in this."
"You're right. We're adults. We can do whatever we want. Its not up to them."
"So we're telling them."
"I didn't say that."
"We really should have figured this out last night before you left."
"Our communication needs a little work."
"Don't you mean your communication needs a little work?"
"You're an ass."
"I know."
"Do what you gotta do. I don't control you."
"I want to know what you want me to do."
"I don't know, MJ. Just, do what you gotta do."
"Callie, don't do this."
To that, I didn't reply. I didn't reply to his next three texts.
I did laundry. I watched TV. I went to the store. I took a nap. Mom called, and she didn't ask. I didn't share.
And Monday morning came way too soon.