Sorry it's taken so long for the update – been working long hours and unexpected shifts. But that doesn't mean the gerbil on the wheel hasn't been going into overtime! Well, it's getting close to Valentine's Day, and poor Lionel has gone from cupid to go-between as the two star-crossed lovers try to make the first move.
Cupid
Lionel pulled open the door to the diner and looked around to make sure no one of any importance was hanging around. Once the coast was clear, he made his way to the booth located in the far end of the room.
"Good morning, Lionel," Reese greeted.
"Good morning my ass," Lionel replied and sat on the seat. "You're chipper. You shoot some bad guys in the kneecaps before breakfast?"
"No, but thanks."
"How is it that you get the crap beat out of you, and you still look great?"
Reese only shrugged in response.
"Ah. Well. But at least I got to bring down Lynch - thanks to you and our mutual friend, of course." Lionel added on as an afterthought.
"That's good."
"Except now Simmons is breathing down my neck."
"That's not so good."
"Tell me about it." Lionel yawned and checked his watch. "So, what was so all fired important that you had to call me at the butt crack of dawn to meet you here?"
"What's wrong, Lionel? Missing out on your beauty sleep?"
"Heh. Well, we all can't be tall, dark, and gorgeous like you, Wonder Boy. You could have at least ordered me a cup of coffee," he groused.
"I could have," Reese agreed without further elaboration.
"But you didn't. So, what was it? What do you need?"
"I need you to find out what kind of flower Carter likes."
"What kind of -?" Slowly the realization dawned on the detective. "Wait! You want me to find out what kind of flower Carter likes?! Why?"
"Does it matter?"
"It does," Lionel nodded, "when it might get me shot."
"What's a bullet here or there?"
"Maybe you like to wear your bullet wounds like medals, but I personally don't like getting shot." Lionel leaned in. "Tell me, what do you need it for? You gonna try and soften her up?"
"Just get me the information."
"You look different."
"Lionel..."
"You do. And is that a smile?"
"Lionel..." Reese warned cautiously.
"It is a smile! You're smiling! You like her!" A stupid grin broke across Lionel's face as the realization hit him. It was all he could do to tap down his enthusiasm.
"I'm about to take back thanking you for saving me last night," Reese warned, but his tone held no real warning.
"Okay. No need to get hostile," Lionel ribbed back. "It's just that I can't ever recall seeing you smile. It suits you; you should really consider doing it more often."
"I smile."
Lionel considered the remark. "No. Smiling after kneecapping a perp isn't the same. This is...real."
"Are you going to get me the information?" Reese asked with just a little bit of exasperation.
"It's going to cost you."
"I brought you a bad guy – three times this week," Reese pointed out matter-of-factly.
"Nah. I want something more."
"What?"
"I'll let you know."
"I'm sure you will. You have my number." Reese stood up and straightened his jacket.
Lionel looked up, surprised. "What? You're not staying for breakfast?" he wondered.
"Are you buying?"
Lionel appeared insulted. "Buying? You asked me here."
"Ah, well, then, no. Got bad guys to catch." In the blink of an eye, Reese disappeared to leave Lionel by himself.
"Thanks, pal," Lionel muttered under his breath and reached for a menu. The revelation that John Reese could be interested in Joss Carter was more than even the detective could have wished for. Yes, he told himself, it was finally coming together. Now he just had to figure out a way to get the information without spiking his partner's curiosity. But how? In response, his stomach growled loudly.
Embarrassed, Lionel looked around and felt a few eyes staring at him.
"The flowers can wait," he said and motioned for the waitress.
*******
"Thanks for the coffee," Joss said as she took the lid off the cup. Sitting in the car, she pressed her nearly frozen fingers against the cup and tried to absorb some of the heat to help thaw them.
"No problem. I figured you could use a change from the mud back at the house." Lionel expertly guided the car into traffic – keeping one eye in the mirror and the other on the road. It was another day of trying to gather information and interviewing witnesses as they tried to close a cold case involving the shooting of a young teen in Washington Heights.
"Anything is better than that stuff," Joss agreed. Sipping carefully, she savoured the delicious blend of roasted beans that had been brewed slowly.
Without music, the silence in the car was almost deafening. Shifting in the seat, Lionel took a deep breath before asking, "So, what are you doing for Valentine's Day?"
Joss raised her eyebrow. "Why?"
"Just wondering. It's only three days away," he pointed out.
"You're wondering what I'm doing for Valentine's Day? Heh." Joss focused her attention on the cup of coffee.
"I have a curious mind."
"Be curious somewhere else," she replied between sips.
"Aw, come on, Carter," Lionel pleaded, "humour me."
"No."
"Are you going out to dinner? Staying home?"
"If we can't catch this bad guy, we'll be on another stake-out, so it doesn't really matter."
"Killjoy. No, really. You have plans, right?"
"A book. A movie. Bed."
"I should check you for a pulse," Lionel quipped.
"What do you mean?" Joss asked.
"Dead people have more exciting things going on in their lives." Lionel carefully merged into the lane that would take them to Washington Heights.
"That's me. Detective Excitement," Joss replied tongue in cheek.
"Well, is Taylor doing anything?" Lionel dug for any information that could help him formulate a plan he could take back to Finch.
"He has a dance," Joss tried to keep the loneliness out of her voice, but Lionel heard it. Looking at her out of the corner of his eye, he almost felt sorry for her.
"So, you're going to sit home alone? That's no fun." Lionel braced himself and built his courage. "Why don't you call our mutual friend?"
Joss was shocked by the suggestion. "John?"
"No. Glasses," Lionel corrected sarcastically. "Of course I mean John. Ask him out."
"It's not that easy."
"Why not? He's free...you're free..." Lionel tossed the suggestion out. "So, what kind of flower do you like?"
Joss shifted her eyes. "Why do you want to know?"
"Because we're partners. We should know these things about each other."
"Uh huh. He asked you, didn't he?"
"He did," Lionel confirmed reluctantly.
"Why?"
"I guess he wants to send you flowers. I don't know."
"Send me...?"
"Yeah, flowers. So, what kind do you like?"
"You're going to tell him what kind of flowers that I like so he can send them to me?"
"Would you rather he send them to your alter ego?" Lionel considered the options before them. "Why don't you send him flowers?"
"Me send him flowers?" Joss sputtered.
Lionel shrugged. "Why not? It is, after all, the 21st century. Women can make the first move."
Joss narrowed her eyes at her partner. "What are you getting out of this?"
"Who me?" Lionel turned his head to look at her. "Nothing."
"Nothing?"
"Not a thing. Send him flowers, but don't sign the card."
"And then what? When he gets on line and tells me that someone sent him flowers, what am I supposed to tell him?" Joss countered.
"Make something up."
"Lie to him, you mean."
"You're not already? He thinks you're Maggie, the perfect woman who understands him – although you did stand him up on your first date," Lionel reminded none too gently. "I think taking the sin thing into consideration went out the window a couple of days ago."
"Thanks, Lionel," Joss murmured against the rim of the coffee cup. "That helps."
"Look, Carter, I don't know what to tell you. Send him flowers, don't send him flowers. Meet him for dinner or coffee. Or maybe hook up at the local Holiday Inn. I'm only the cupid here; I can't be expected to do everything to insure that the two of you have a happy ever after," Lionel didn't try to mask the frustration in his voice.
"Okay," Joss conceded with a sigh, "what kind of flower should I send him?"
Lionel shrugged. "I don't know. I haven't had a chance to explore his metro-sexual side," he quipped. "But a flower should reflect the personality of the receiver."
"What kind of flower do you like?"
Lionel thought for a moment. "It's small and white with what looks like little butterfly wings on the petals," he answered.
Joss' eyes widened. "Pansies?! Your favourite flower is a pansy?!"
Lionel felt his cheeks flush hot. "I don't know what it's called; it's pretty and my mom planted them a lot."
Joss tried to stifle a giggle. "Maybe someone should be sending you flowers, Lionel," she teased.
"Yeah. Right," he groused. Taking the corner slowly, he pointed toward the apartment building in the distance. "Looks like we're here," he announced.
"Dispatch to Detective Carter," said a female voice over the police radio band. Joss picked up the mic and pressed the button to talk.
"Detective Carter to Dispatch. Go ahead."
"You've been requested to return back to the house."
"Be advised that my partner and I are currently in the process of questioning a suspect in a cold case," Joss returned authoritatively.
"Roger that. A suspect connected to your cold case has been delivered to the precinct."
"A suspect has been delivered?!" Joss and Lionel exchanged questioning looks.
"That's affirmative. Over."
Joss paused before pressing the button. "How do you know he's connected to my case? Over."
"He had a note attached to him with you name on it."
Lionel chuckled. "Wonderboy strikes again."
"Dispatch be advised that I will be there in twenty minutes."
"Roger that. Dispatch out."
Joss replaced the mic. "John..." she muttered under her breath.
"Looks like the perp might need the flowers, Carter," Lionel laughed lightly.
Joss shook her head. "Let's get back to the 8th," she ordered.
Unable to contain his amusement, a huge grin broke out on Lionel's face as he turned the car around.