Jeremy POV
"Dude, check it."
I moved over to sit next to Mulder on the couch, where he had the laptop propped on his legs.
"What are you working on?" I asked with interest, because I know that with him it's always something.
And I can just imagine that since he's with the FBI now, his electronic perusals are only going to get more fascinating.
"Death threat emails to John Strathmore," he stated without taking his eyes off the screen.
It's funny how he seems to have matured years just over the past weekend. I guess sex can do that to a guy.
Or maybe it was being arrested that had him fast-tracking the development process.
Although I guess Sunday wasn't his first time.
For being arrested, I mean. He's actually been in prison.
So maybe it is the sex.
I guess becoming a man means different things for different people because losing my virginity certainly wasn't my defining moment.
Anyway, I glanced over at the computer.
And I like to think of myself as a smart guy, but I have no idea what I'm looking at.
"Um…give me the Sparks," I said as I raised the bottle of beer to my lips.
And yeah, I probably shouldn't be drinking on a work night, but this is only my second and it's already after two in the morning, so it's not like I'm going to do much more damage. And I'm not driving or anything, so no BFD, right?
"I deciphered the ippas, right?"
"Ippas?"
"Yeah, you know. IPA. Plural," he clarified with a grin. "You know, IP address?"
"I know what an IP is. But ippas?"
"Sorry. Cilia," he explained sheepishly.
"Yeah, because you need to pick up more confusing lingo," I teased. "You had to find the one girl in the world whose vernacular is more mystifying than yours."
"IPA's. Internet Protocol Addresses. What's mystifying about that?"
"Nothing. I get it now," I laughed. "So what'd you find? Detroit?"
Even though the heated discussions at Steve-O's between John and Mary and Cutter and Jennifer had been conducted in hushed tones, I still heard it. And I hate seeing them in disagreement about anything. But I'm with Cutter and John on this one.
Going to Detroit without intel, trying to flush out the mafia…not a good idea.
"Nope. New York City."
"Seriously?"
"Uh huh."
"So…the Albanians are in the city? Or someone else? Are they all from the same location? What else can you get from them?"
"Dude, chillax, alright? I'm working it," he said as he tapped a few more keys. "Okay, so…Manhattan. Do the Albanians hang out near Times Square?"
I shrugged and took another sip of beer.
It's late, and I should be tired, and I have to be at 1PP in about five hours, but my mind is racing.
This case, the Logans' thing with Kevin Shaw, Hayes' rapist on the loose…they're all so huge and I wish there was something I could do to help them. I mean, my position as a gopher has me in the know on most everything that goes on in that place.
Well, that, and since I'm related to the chief.
But still, I care about all these people and I don't want to see any of them get hurt. Not to mention the fact that the puzzles are mesmerizing and I just want to dig in and get my hands dirty, you know?
"Didn't Mary say that the mafia members are all accounted for in the Wolverine state?"
"Uh huh," I agreed.
"So…"
"But maybe they were here, when the emails were sent. Or they figured out how to mask the IP."
"Maybe," he mused. He stared at the screen for another moment and then he sat back and reached for his beer. "Dude, can you believe I'm a fed?"
"I know," I smiled. "Sweet, right?"
"So sweet. I spent the day trolling the I's and O's of some Wall Street guy on the hook for racketeering. And I found shit, right? Like seriously damaging shit. So there's that, and then Cilia…she's…she's…"
He trailed off, letting out a long breath as he shook his head and smiled.
"Sofa king, right?" he finished. "And she's coming down on Friday. We're going to catch a bite with McClane and his ten, but maybe Saturday we can double with you and the new chica."
"Natalie?" I replied even though of course that's who he means. I don't date two women at once. Not anymore, anyway.
Although it's probably too soon to say we're dating. I mean, I just caught up with her again this past Friday. We were friends in high school, but not close friends, not the kind who keep up after leaving for college.
But on the way home from the poker game, when I saw her on the subway…I don't know.
It made me forget about my earlier hope of getting home in time to run into any one of the hot women hanging out with Liz.
"Yeah," Mulder said. "Unless she dumps you between now and then."
"Why the hell would she do that?"
"Because you got shit for game, J-man," he joked.
See what I mean? He found confidence in the span of forty-eight hours.
It's pretty cool.
Gratifying, really.
Because it tells me that it's never too late to get your life in order.
Not that I'm old or anything, but still…I worry sometimes that maybe I've already used my mulligan.
"I've got game," I said firmly. "And yeah, Saturday sounds good to me. I'll run it by her and let you know."
We stayed up and talked for about another half-hour, and then he went back to his bedroom while I stretched out on the couch.
"Want me to wake you up when I leave?" he asked me, sticking his head back into the hallway.
"What time?"
"Six-fifteen, maybe. I want to catch Mary and Jennifer before I go to work, to show them what I've got."
I sat up and looked at him, grinning as I shook my head.
"What?" he asked, when I didn't say anything.
"You're gonna chat up a couple of tens before going to work. At the federal building. Dude…" I said with envy.
"Yeah, I know," he said, smiling back at me. "Life is good, right?"
I thought about how Natalie kissed me this afternoon, and how I'll be going to work at One Police Plaza, and how my brother is graduating in five days and then he'll be living here in New York, going to NYU with me in the fall.
"Not just good, Mulder. Fucking epic."
The next morning, which in actuality was only about three hours later, Mulder chucked me with his foot on his way out the door, calling out for me to text him after work, and after taking a moment to let reality sink in, I rolled off the couch and found my shoes.
I spent a couple of minutes straightening up after myself, and then I headed for home to take a quick shower before work, and that's when I ran into Dad and Liz.
Kissing, of course.
I can't believe the amount of action my dad gets at his age.
I hope like hell that's me when I'm that old.
"I'm leaving in half an hour, if you want a ride," Dad told me after Liz said goodbye.
"Yeah, I'm in," I replied, and then I hustled up the stairs to get ready. Twenty-eight minutes later, I was back at the front door.
"Late night?" he asked me as we headed for the car.
"About three," I admitted, and at his questioning eyebrow, I added, "I only had two beers. Mulder was working on tracking the emails."
"And did he find something?"
"Yeah, a little," I answered, and then my cell phone rang before I could say anything more.
"Girlfriend?" he asked as I looked at the display.
"Not even close," I grumbled. "It's Mom."
I debated ignoring the call, but I know her. She'll just pester the shit out of me until I answer.
"Hi, Mom," I said, doing my best to sound pleasant.
And I know that sounds bad but I can't help it.
She's just not a nice person.
"What time are you going to be here Friday?" she asked, bypassing the greeting and going straight to harping.
"I'm working until noon, so I'll be there by three."
"You know the ceremony starts at seven, right?"
"Yeah, that's why I'm planning to be there at three."
"Don't be a smartass, Jeremy. I just don't want you to be like your father and have some work issue hold you up. You know how important this is to your brother."
"I know, Mom," I said through gritted teeth.
God, she gets on my nerves. She always finds a way to insult Dad.
I glanced over at him and not for the first time, I wondered how the hell I ever came into this world. Because that means he had sex. With her. I wonder if she bitched at him the whole time they were doing it.
"And please tell me that woman isn't coming with you."
"Woman?" I asked in confusion, thinking at first that she somehow knows about Natalie, but then it hit me. "You mean Liz?"
My mother snorted in derision and said, "Of course I mean her. Unless your father left her and found some other hussy to shack up with ."
For some reason, having her disparage Liz put me over the edge. I guess it's because I understand that she might have anger towards my dad, and I know she doesn't care much for me anymore, now that I've defected, but Liz has never done anything to her.
"Okay, you know what? I'm about sick to death of hearing you talk crap about Liz," I fired back, and I heard my dad say my name, maybe warning me to take it easy, but I ignored him. "She's a great person, and she treats me like I'm her real son, which is more than I can say for you."
"Jeremy," my dad said again, and at the same time my mother started shrieking her reply, but I interrupted her.
"No, you listen," I yelled. "Dad deserves to be happy after what you did to him, and Liz makes him happy, so stop being so goddamn bitter about it and get over yourself."
The silence, both in the car and on the other end of the line, was deafening, and it occurred to me that maybe I took it too far. But I don't think so.
"So yes, she's coming with us on Friday. Aaron invited her because he loves her, too, so if you can't handle that, or if you think you can't be civil when you see her, then maybe you're the one who shouldn't show up at graduation."
I hung up without waiting for a response and then I sat there for a moment, breathing heavily as I reined in my temper.
"I think this is where I should tell you not to talk to your mother like that," my dad said after another minute.
By this point we were in the parking garage at 1PP, and I had a feeling that once he found a place to park, he was going to have words for me.
"Probably," I agreed.
"But that's not what I'm going to say," he said after easing into a spot and killing the engine. "You're almost twenty years old. You're old enough to see people for who they are. Parents should be respected, but there comes a point when they stop deserving it from title alone. They also have to earn it, and offer some in return. Don't you think?"
I stared at him for a moment, amazed and pleased by his understanding remarks, and then I smiled and said, "Yes, sir, I do."
He flashed me a smile, clearly catching the meaning behind my response, and for some reason, this moment right here makes me feel more like a man than ever before.
"That being said, let's not tell Liz about that conversation, okay? I don't want her to second guess her right to be there for Aaron."
"Got it. Besides, I don't want her to know I used a curse word," I said jokingly as we headed for the elevator.
"Good point. I'd hate to see her whip your ass."
"So wait, I'm old enough to stand up to my mother, but I'm still not old enough to use strong language in front of Liz?"
"I don't know. Try it and find out," he said on a laugh.
The thing is, I would never dream of cursing at Liz. Maybe about something in front of her, but I'd never talk to her like I spoke to my mother.
It's that respect thing.
"Oh, so you were telling me what Mulder learned about the emails," Dad said.
"They were sent in Manhattan," I told him. "All of them. And Mary said the Detroit guys were all accounted for there, so…"
"Huh," he said with a nod. "Okay."
"You can't assign anyone here to work on it, though, can you? I mean, it's a federal thing?"
"Not necessarily," he mused. "But we're slammed at the moment. Maybe if we get daylight anytime soon, I can assign someone to work it with them."
The elevator stopped on the eleventh floor, so we said our goodbyes and I went to work.
Making coffee.
Pulling files.
Gathering faxes.
It's menial and I don't get paid a dime, but I love it.
"Hey, Detective Bernard," I called out as I headed for his desk. "You were waiting on something from Aveson for Senate Headquarters?"
"Um…not really," he answered after casting Lupo a questioning look. "What've you got?"
And even though I was close enough to him to hand off the fax, he didn't reach for it. Instead, he was offering for me to read it and give him the details.
I like that about him. Most of the detectives, really. They've started letting me know more about their cases as long as I don't try to finagle ride-alongs.
I glanced over the paper, looking past the from line to see what else the fax entailed.
"It looks like a copy of a hotel receipt. May 12th at the El Rancho Motel in the Bronx."
That caught both of their attention, because Lupo got up and walked around the desks as Bernard took the fax from my hand and together they looked it over.
"Anonymous tip," Lupo mumbled. "Someone's trying to tell us something?"
"Sex scandal," Bernard grinned. "I told you, Lupes. Ready to take a ride?"
Lupo rolled his eyes at his partner's cockiness, but then he nodded and went back to his desk to grab his keys. I noticed Bernard glance in the direction of Hayes' empty desk, and it reminded me about yesterday.
"Oh, hey," I said to him. "I think it's sweet and all that you left your wife a message, but not leaving your name didn't keep the desk sergeant from knowing it was you. I heard him and Sgt Jordan laughing about it, saying something about you being pussy-whipped."
I expected him to laugh at the tease, but he whirled around to face me, his expression stern.
"What message?"
"Yesterday," I answered, and now I'm thinking that maybe I shouldn't have said anything. "I was coming through the lobby and Sgt Dean had just taken the message. He asked me to put it on Hayes' desk."
"What'd it say?" he questioned, and I don't know if this is some kind of test, like maybe I shouldn't have read the message, or…I don't know what, but I'm not going to lie.
It's that respect thing again.
"Um, something like…asking if she missed you, and that you'd see her soon."
"What is it, B?" Lupo asked with concern.
"I didn't leave her a message. God damn it. It was him. And she knows it was him, and she didn't tell me about it."
My heart sank, and not just because it must have been Flowers who said he'd be seeing her soon, but also because I think I just got Hayes in trouble with her husband.
Shit.
Now she's going to be pissed at me.
"Bernard," I began as he moved towards the elevator with a full head of steam. "I…"
I trailed off, not finishing my sentence, partly because he wasn't listening anyway, but mostly because I have no idea what I was going to say.
"You did the right thing, Jeremy," Lupo assured me before hustling to catch up with his partner.
I'm not so sure about that.
I mean, yeah, Bernard needed to know about the threat, but if I'd known he didn't know, I would've just encouraged her to tell him instead of ratting her out.
And really, I think all of that's irrelevant.
Flowers said he'd see her soon.
And he obviously figured out that she's working from 1PP.
How long before he makes a move?
And who's looking for him?
The feds?
SVU?
Is it anyone who actually knows Hayes and cares about keeping her safe?
Well, now there is.
Because I've learned a few tricks from all of my new detective friends.
So I'm going to find this asshole myself.
TBC...
Next up: John