Long chapter.

Deschaine and Bosco talk a little, Davis, Sully, and Faith make an appearance, and Deschaine travels to New York for her brother's graduation. That last couple of scenes are something of a character-study for her.And there's a surprise guest-star. Read on to find out who.


"My brother graduates from the NYPA tomorrow. We're all going down to be at the ceremony."

Bosco nodded, pulling on his gunbelt. "It's a big thing, graduating from there."

"Yeah." Deschaine folded her collar down over the clip-on tie. "You want to come with us? It'll be a good break."

"No," he replied, a little too quickly. "No, I'll take a pass. Thanks, though."

She shrugged, choosing to let the vehemence in his voice pass without comment. "Okay. He finds out what precinct he's assigned to, as well. He's hoping it's the one he wants, but who can tell?"

"Yeah."

"Let's go, folks." The duty sergeant called into the locker room.

"You all right?"

"Fine." Bosco answered as he shut his locker. "C'mon. We're gonna be late."

"Right.".

"I'm glad you felt ready to join us, Deschaine," Lieutenant Coulter said. "Now maybe we can get started."

Deschaine forced a grin and promptly tuned the lieutenant out. It was the standard pre-shift spiel. Patrol assignments were the same, there wasn't anything in particular they needed to look out for, have a nice night, get out there and do your jobs. Blah, blah, blah. She stood up with the rest of the officers and joined the line filing through the door.

"Hey, what's up?"

"You've asked me that already."

Bosco looked slightly uncertain. "You're kinda quiet so I wondered if everything was all right."

"I'm just tired," she lied, taking the radio from the cop working the cage. "There was a movie on last night that I stayed up to watch."

"Okay." He wisely left it at that as they carried out a brief cruiser inspection. Deschaine was grateful for his silence. Her headache was bad enough without the irritation of useless chatter. It figured that she would be out of aspirin, too. She'd have to stop somewhere and get a bottle. The percussion-only orchestra that was marching around her head had to be silenced as soon as possible. Her skull felt like it wanted to fall to pieces. Ugh, bad headaches sucked.

She pointed the cruiser toward Massachusetts Avenue and tried to remember where the closest pharmacy was. The constant pounding in her head was due mostly to the sudden attention that Patrick Harris was giving to her. Each night for the past three days he had been outside her apartment buildning, waiting for her. He only wanted to talk, or so he claimed. Harris wasn't much for talking if he thought he could get a free night's pleasure from someone. Didn't he understand that she could not stand him? Ever since the debriefing after her partner had fired his gun, Harris had been at pains to be civil to her, which only set off the first of several red flags. The guy usually didn't put that much effort into somebody who continually spurned his pathetic advances. This was a little different, though. She was growing more alarmed by his behaviour every time she saw him staring at her. After shift, she planned to speak to his supervisor about it. It had to stop.

"You're sure you're all right?"

"Yeah. Life's great."

Bosco caught her eye, his expression unconvinced. "You haven't said a word since we left the station."

What's there to say? "I told you I was tired."

"Anything you wanna talk about?"

"I didn't know there was anything that we should talk about."

"Hey, I only asked. No need to bite my head off."

She closed her eyes and sighed. Her irritably was a direct result of her growing exhaustion and taking out her frustration on her partner would solve nothing. "Sorry. I've just been having trouble sleeping. Hopefully it'll get better before long."

"Anything I can do to help?"

Not unless you can make an annoying detective just disappear. "No. I'll be fine. You're sure you don't want to come to New York with us?"

"Positive."

"Suit yourself." Deschaine shrugged. Whatever ghosts were dogging him had fallen down a notch or two on her priority list. If he didn't want to go back to New York, even for a visit, that was his choice. She needed to get out of the city for a day and this was the perfect chance to do it.


Davis zipped up his jacket as he stepped onto the sidewalk, half a stride ahead of Sully. A brisk wind whistled down the street, stinging his cheeks and ears. He drew in a breath and wished for a moment that it would just hurry up and be winter already. It was only early September but it sure felt like December.

"Come on, I'm not in a hurry to stand out here all night," Sully called out from the RMP.

"Just enjoying this great weather."

Sully snorted. "Great for the North Pole, maybe."

Davis only smiled and settled into the passenger's seat. His partner always got a little grumpy when it was cold. "Catch the game last night?"

"You mean when the Yanks wiped the field with the Marlins? Wouldn't have missed it." Sully replied.

"Yeah, that was a slaughter. Jeter's on fire."

"They've played a good season. I can't wait for October."

The RMP cruised along with traffic down Second Avenue. Davis thought back to the New York-Boston game from the week before. He couldn't shake the feeling it had really been Bosco standing there in the stands. But why would he be there, of all places?

"Hey, Sul, do you remember the game from last week? When New York played Boston at Fenway?"

"Yeah. A little bit. Why?"

"I think I saw Bosco there. It was only for a second but I could have sworn he was standing along the first base line, watching the game."

"Bosco at Fenway Park? What are the odds of that? Come on, Davis. I find it hard to believe he'd pack up and disappear, leaving behind a good job and career here, and head for Massachusetts. You were seein' things."

The younger officer glanced out the window before speaking. He had expected that sort of response. "Carlos said that too. I don't know, maybe I was. But the guy looked just like him."

"Maybe he did, but that doesn't mean it's really Bosco." Sully told him and changed the subject after a moment's silence. "We're getting a couple rookies in tomorrow. Fresh from the Academy."

"Cool, I guess."

"We need the people. With Yokas out on medical and Bosco gone off to God-knows-where, we're a little shorthanded."

"Is that why they pulled O'Shea back from retirement?"

Sully grinned ruefully. "Yup. He thought he was done with this job, but One PP called him up and said he had to come back. Poor guy just can't catch a break."

"That's rough."

"That's the way it goes. It's easier to recall retired cops than it is to train enough new ones. So Andrew O'Shea's back on the foot beat at forty-six years old because all the younger guys don't want to leave their nice warm RMPs."

"Is that a hint?"

"Oh, no. I'd hate to suggest you get out there on foot post and catch a cold or something."

Davis laughed. "Yeah, that would be awful."


"Can you try to wiggle your right foot for me?"

Faith closed her eyes and willed the limb to move. "It's moving, right?" She asked hopefully.

The doctor sighed quietly. "No, but that's not a surprise. It's still too soon to expect any sort of motor ability to return."

"I can't live like this."

"I understand that, Officer, but there's nothing we can do medically. As you know, the paralysis is only temporary. You should expect improvements within a few months."

"A few months? You mean I have to get pushed around in this damn chair for that long? No way."

"I'm sorry, but without even partial use of your legs, it's your only means of getting around."

Fred laid his hand on her shoulder. "How soon can she start seeing a therapist?"

"Right away, if she wants. I can give you the name and number of a very good physical therapist who contracts with the hospital if you like."

"That'd be great, thanks."

"I'll just be a moment," the doctor told them, walking quickly into the hallway.

"I don't want to be stuck in this chair. I want to get around under my own power," Faith said. "I didn't ask for this."

"I know you didn't." Fred kissed the top of her head. "You're going to get better."

The doctor re-entered the room. "Here's a card with her office number. I have to get back to my rounds but I wish you luck."

"Thank you."


His partner was stonily silent as she unloaded her gun and slid the weapon into her duffel bag. She had been like that all shift and nothing he said had done anything to open her up. It was frustrating to not know what was bothering his partner when it was glaringly obvious that something was. Something big. She looked like hell. Had she been sleeping at all? Whatever. She didn't want to tell him about it, so what did he care?

"See you on Friday, Deschaine," one of the other cops said as she headed for the door. "Tell your brother congrats for me."

"Sure thing, Billy. As soon as he gets his first day off, he's gonna come up to show off his new suit."

Bill Tessier flashed a thumbs-up. "Works for me. I still think he'd look better in one of our uniforms, but if he wants to be NYPD blue, more power to him, right?"

The officers still getting changed shared a chuckle. Deschaine grinned, pushing open the locker room door. "Right. Bye guys."

Bosco said nothing and didn't look up when he felt her gaze on his back. He had nothing at all to say to her. The door clicked shut and she was gone. Good. He hung up his uniform shirt. Time for him to go, too. Two days off, without her annoying refusal to talk about whatever was bothering her, were going to be a welcome respite.

"Bosco."

He stiffened, not even halfway out the front door. What was she still doing here? It didn't matter. He was going home. She could talk to his back all she wanted because he wasn't going to stop walking.

"Hey, hold up."

Not a chance, Deschaine. Bosco thought, sidestepping around her. Her hand shot out and grabbed his arm, jerking him to an abrupt halt.

"Stop."

For a fleeting second, he was intimidated by the anger that flashed across her face. The second was over before he could miss it. "What the hell do you want?"

"I want to apologise for how I acted during shift. I'm not usually that snappish."

"I dealt with it."

"That's not how it's supposed to work and I think you know it. I brought my personal life to work with me and I'm sorry. Usually I know better."

Bosco shrugged. "That stuff happens."

"Yeah, well, I didn't want for it to be a raincloud over my head all day."

"Is it anything you want to talk about?"

She hesitated for a long moment before replying. "When I come back, I'll be ready to, I think. I need to try to sort it out myself, first."

"Okay. Have a good time in New York, then?" He was surprised to find that his anger at her was gone. Her reasons for keeping silent about this problem were probably very good ones. "See you a couple days, Deschaine."

Deschaine actually smiled, but the gesture only deepened the shadows under her eyes.. "Good. Enjoy your days off."


"Look, there's Matthew." Her mother pointed at a brawny recruit standing with a group of class-mates near the front doors.

"He almost looks good in that rig," Deschaine said, adjusting her hat over her painstakingly braided hair. "My jacket's not wrinkled, is it? I had it dry cleaned yesterday."

"It's fine, dear."

She tugged on the hem, settling the dark blue jacket over her shoulders. "I feel like the so-called sore thumb."

"Quit worrying, Sarah. Your uniform's fine."

"Right."

"Are you finished bellyaching about your appearance?" Her father asked. "It's almost time."

"Yeah, I'm done." Deschaine sucked in a steadying breath, amused that she was so nervous. It wasn't even her graduation. "You two first."

"Matthew!"

Her brother looked around the crowd for whoever was calling for him, then saw his parents on the edge of the sidewalk. A huge grin burst onto his face and he pushed his way through the crush of the people. "About time you guys showed up. We're almost ready to start."

"You know how they are about being 'on-time'."

"Whoa! Somebody's dressed up!"

Deschaine grinned. "Can't let you be the only one with a blue suit. Would it be taboo to be seen hugging a Boston cop in uniform or are you just standing 'cause you have nothing better to do?"

"Good to see you too, Tweedle-Dee." Matt said, drawing his sister into a hug. "C'mon, the better seats go fast and I want to show you off."

"Wonderful," she followed him through the milling clusters of recruits and families. "I always enjoyed being a trophy for you, Tweedle-Dumb."

"Yo, guys, I want you to meet my sister."

"Big day, huh?"

The four recruits stared at her. Or at her uniform, to be precise. Matt shook his head and carried on the introductions.

"Jamie O'Shea, Ricky Gates, Scott Cole, Johnny Foley. This is my sister, Sarah."

None of them said anything. Deschaine straightened her back, elbowing her brother. "Talkative bunch, aren't they?"

"I think this might be the first time they've seen somebody not wearing an NYPD uniform since we came here."

"That's enough reason to forget basic manners?" She asked, hiding her amused smile. "Etiquette was the first thing drilled into us at the BPA."

One of the other recruits swallowed and seemed to come out of his daze. "Um, I'm Jamie O'Shea."

"Pleasure, Officer," she said, shaking his hand. "Sarah Deschaine."

Jamie seemed surprised to be addressed as 'Officer'. "Uh, yeah."

A hefty officer with lieutenant's bars on his shirt waddled to the front doors. "All recruits please report to the gymnasium for assembly," he wheezed.

"That's our cue. We'll see you after."

"You bet. Knock 'em dead, Tweedle-Dumb."

Matt grinned and joined the flow of recruits heading inside. Smiling herself, Deschaine headed back to where her parents were waiting.

"Time to head in. They're starting."

"You're not coming in?"

"I'll just be a minute."

"Okay," her mother said and they followed the various relatives jostling each other to get through the doors. Deschaine pushed her way out of the crowd until she reached un-clustered sidewalk. She hated being in the middle of so many people, so close together. She'd always been a little claustrophobic that way. The Boston cop blew out a relieved breath, fishing a crushed pack of gum from her pocket. Anything to get her mind off being stuck in close-quarters with that many people for who-knows-how-long.

A man came flying around the corner at the end of the block, dodging skilfully around pedestrians. He sprinted out into the street without bothering to pause to check traffic. Drivers shouted unpleasant things at him as he reached the opposite sidewalk. Deschaine saw him coming toward her and pushed herself away from the NYPA building, ready to step into his path.

"Whoa, sir, slow it down."

"I'm not too late, am I?" The man gasped, out of breath. "I ran all the way down from the Twenty-Third Street station."

"No sir. They're just starting."

"Good. Can't be late for somethin' this big."

Deschaine noted the man's uniform and gunbelt. "Are you on duty, Officer?"

"Aye, but signed outta service." The cop spat on the sidewalk and sucked in a deep gulp of air. "Gotta get in there, me son's graduating."

"Um, yeah." She stepped back as the cop pushed past her to enter the building. Might as well head inside, too. The crowd wasn't going to get any smaller.


"Matthew Connor Deschaine."

The crowd applauded as Matt accepted his certificate. Deschaine stuck two fingers between her lips to whistle. She was happy for her brother. His biggest dream had come true. He was a member of the largest police department in the world. Way to go, Tweedle-Dumb, she thought, and grinned at the old pet-name. Alice in Wonderland had been one of their favourite movies.

She folded her arms across her chest and listened to the other recruits' names get called out. This was big day for all of them. There were so many people packed together on the bleachers to witness the moment. She remembered the breathless cop who had been so afraid he would be late for the ceremony that he had run however-many blocks to get there. That's some dedication. Deschaine saw her brother looking her way as discreetly as he could and she gave him a thumbs-up. He couldn't grin in return but that was fine. There'd be time enough for smiles after the ceremony ended.

The hefty lieutenant's face crinkled into a grin. "Ladies and gentlemen, please greet the newest members of the New York City Police Department. Officers, you are now dismissed."

Cheers and whistles erupted from the families and the newly-christened officers broke ranks. Deschaine caught her brother's eye, delighted to see the pride on his face. He saluted smartly, his white-gloved hand touching the brim of his hat at exactly the right angle. She returned it with the same precision, then the need for formality was over.

"Welcome to the brotherhood, Matt," she said, weaving through the tangles of officers and their families.

"I can't believe this is happening. I finally did it." He hugged her fiercely. "I can't believe it."

"Believe it, little brother. It's a great profession."

"Hey, Matt! What precinct are you assigned to?"

Deschaine recognised the face as belonging to Jamie O'Shea. The cop who had almost run into her out on the sidewalk was standing next to him and she realised he was Jamie's father. Matt nodded.

"Somewhere in Upper Manhattan. The Fifty-Fifth."

"No kidding? Me too. I guess somebody downtown pulled a string or two."

Jamie's father grinned lopsidedly. "Don't be pointin' no fingers, I had nothin' to do with it."

"Sure, Dad."

"Do you work in that precinct too, sir?"

"All of me career. Something like twenty-five years now. Pardon me bad manners. Andrew O'Shea."

"Arthur Deschaine." Deschaine's father said, returning O'Shea's handshake. "This is my wife, Lauren, and that's Sarah in the fancy get-up."

"Pleasure, ma'am, Officer." O'Shea touched the brim of his hat respectfully. "Boston copper, huh? Good city. I've only been once but it was a good time."

"I wouldn't trade Boston for anything," Deschaine replied.

Her father eyed the hash marks on O'Shea's left sleeve. "Twenty-five years, did you say? Long time to spend in one place."

"I got a good neighbourhood beat, so it don't seem like it's been that long." O'Shea said. "Ah, crap," he added when his radio crackled.

"Five-Five Adam Foot, are you still 10-62? I'm holding three jobs in your sector."

"Excuse me for a second." He waited for an acknowledging nod and unclipped the shoulder mike from his jacket. "Standby, Central."

"Duty calls?"

"Bloody vultures. Can't a lad get half an hour to himself anymore?"

"Get goin', Dad. I'll hang a cab back."

"Not a chance. There's no reason that a new cop should have to take a cab home from the NYPA. I'll get you a real ride."

Jamie's cheeks flushed. "Aw, come on. Don't bother the shift sergeant."

"Bah, he needs to get out more anyway."

Deschaine smiled at the exchange, shaking her head. It couldn't be easy having your father be a cop. Matt stood at her left shoulder, grinning fit to burst at his friend.

"Just take the ride, Jamie. It'll probably be the only time you ever ride behind the cage."

"Good point. Sure, that'd be great, Dad."

The older O'Shea nodded. "Central, Five-Five Adam Foot. Is the Thirteenth Precinct Sergeant currently at his command?"

"Standby, Adam Foot." The dispatcher said. "Thirteen Sergeant, what's your location at this time?"

"Thirteen Sergeant, I am on the road."

"Adam Foot, Central. Request Sergeant back at his command. I have personal traffic for him."

"Ten-four, Adam Foot. Thirteen Sergeant did you copy?"

The unseen sergeant sounded amused. "I copy, Central. Returning to my command."

Deschaine's father shook his head with a smile. "That's how it's done?"

"Aye. The work of a minute. Best head outside, then. He'll be here right quick."

"Nice meeting you, Officers." Deschaine shook both men's hands. "Good luck putting up with my brother."

"We'll keep an eye on him." O'Shea promised, his shoulder mike still in his hand. "Central, Five-Five Adam Foot, I'm 98 now. Give me the most recent job."

"And that," Matt said, "is one great example of a proud family tradition."

"C'mon, Officer. Let's go have a celebratory dinner at a fancy New York restaurant. My treat." Their father said.

"Sounds good to me, since you're paying. There's a real upscale place a couple blocks from here. Nothing on the menu is priced under fifteen dollars."

"Very funny, Matthew."