A/N: OpheliaBlack asked (and rightly so) why Joss and co weren't pursuing C.J.'s guilt in the matter. I wrote this for 3 reasons:
Taylor is her son, if he were in trouble she would react as a mother first and a cop second
In New York an arraignment must take place 24 hours after an arrest which gives them all a tight time window to deal with any possible charges and try to get the case dropped. Due to the time crunch I think they would focus on clearing Taylor's name
Joss works in Homocide, not Special Victims, so there is an investigation taking place she's just not a part of it
I leave no ends untied and I'm not close to finishing, so as always, enjoy x
Tuesday, 7.40am, Joss' apartment.
That night Joss couldn't check in on John, she headed back to the Precinct and collated
CCTV from outside the Footworks Dance Studio, traffic camera footage of C.J. and Heather arguing in the car, an emailed phone video of a sex act and security footage from the Foyer in Heather's apartment building in the Upper West Side. She burned several copies and drove to Tribeca to pick up the four months of ChatCloset transcripts Finch had retrieved. She got home just before sunrise and grabbed three hours of sleep before Naomi arrived at her front door to discuss Taylor's arraignment that afternoon.
"I already sent two copies to the 70th precinct by courier." Joss said, plating Naomi's breakfast.
"You always went the extra mile." Naomi commented, skimming through the transcripts and scrolling through the videos.
"Are we talking about my studies or the time I pledged under you and made your breakfast from scratch every morning?" Joss asked, giving her a bagel with cream cheese and honey and two hard boiled eggs.
"Both." She smiled and probed. "You still remember how I like my coffee over 20 years later?"
Joss rolled her eyes and brought the mug to the kitchen island. "Blue mountain coffee with a splash of goat's milk and half a teaspoon of brown sugar. Stir anticlockwise 'til it matches your complexion."
Naomi nodded with approval. "Are you sure you don't want to take the misdemeanor? I can get him an ACOD at his arraignment this afternoon. If he avoids arrest for six months it'll be wiped off his record."
Joss thought of Paul's vehement denial of the adjournment in contemplation of dismissal the night before. He saw it as admitting guilt. "No, let's stick with the plan. Talk to the District Attorney, we want the case dismissed at arraignment. All charges dropped."
"As you wish; I'll file the motion to dismiss first thing. The DA's office opens at 9.00am, I called in a favour and got the first meeting." She changed from attorney to Big Sister with a change of tone. "Sit down girl, have some cereal or something. You're spinning."
Joss grounded herself on her diner chair and sipped some tea, her stomach was churning. She sighed. "This is my baby not some beast."
"I know. I felt the same way when my son was stopped for trying to steal his own car. But we can't stop. So please eat something, drink something, get some sleep. You'll be better for Taylor when you do." Joss tried to eat some toast. "What else do you want Joss?"
"I personally want Julie's ass on a skewer the moment she touches down from Montecarlo."
Naomi laughed to herself. "Sorry Joss, I do litigation not barbecue."
"Not one word, Nay. Like her son wasn't in my house just a week ago. Like I didn't take the boys to see The Incredibles three times back then."
"When times are hard, friends are few." Naomi drove home the painful reality.
8.10am, Perennial Hotel, Manhattan
Warren folded back his collars and put on his cufflinks. A half-eaten champagne breakfast sat on the rolling table on her side of the bed. "You're a stickler for numbers like me." He said.
"What?" She called from under the duvet.
"Why else would you have insisted on the 17th floor? And the room 1701 or 1704 only? They're multiples of 3 and good things come in 3s."
"Okay..." she said, nodding along, understanding how he was bullied up to the 9th grade.
"Are you sure you won't have champagne? It kind of ruins the whole champagne breakfast thing."
Shaw drank half a glass to pacify him. "They should make a vodka breakfast. With no food." He laughed hysterically, taking her seriously. She wasn't used to a warm response to her deadpan humour. It took her off-guard, he took her off-guard; he was so unassuming she couldn't draw for her gun with the enthusiasm she used to.
He pulled a rose out of the vase on the vanity and threw it at her. "See you Sam." He picked up his laptop bag and blazer and left. He knew she wasn't a kisser.
She snapped out of whatever she was feeling and got back in her grey and black uniform. She was insistent on the room numbers because Mars' makeshift office and the adjoining sex room were in between. She slid the masterkey into the card reader in room 1703 and went through all of his files. "Morning Harry," She greeted.
"That's not my name but anyway," He replied, "Has your stay at the Perennial been fruitful?"
"I occupied Wall Street if that's what you mean." She flippantly recalled the night before as she hacked his laptop with Carter related passwords.
"It's not." He pressed the imaginary delete button on his brain. "Have you found anything in Walker's possession that's a threat to us?"
"Just this map where he's tracking our movements trying to find John. He followed Carter last night but she was at the Precinct most of it."
"We already knew about the financial records, he cannot find Mr Reese."
"You want to tell Mrs Smith she can't visit? I'll stand back and count your teeth later."
"Walker poses a more imminent problem. Operation Babyjet has been closed for over a month, why is he still here?"
"I don't know, but considering this Jones he's got for Carter I say Romeo must die."
6.00pm, Paul's House, Elmhurst
"How did you do it?" Taylor asked, taking off the suit jacket he felt like burning. He walked her to her car.
Naomi paused. "I did what I should so I did what I could." She said cryptically. "Go to Law School and find out."
"Thank you."
"You shouldn't have to thank me but you're welcome. I spoke with your Principal; you can go back to school tomorrow."
He grimaced. "I don't belong there."
She put her hand on his arm. "My father used to tell me wherever I go is where I belong. So go back to school."
"I hate it there, the way people look at me; it'll never be the same. Why do they fear me?"
"They don't see you Taylor. They see their own fears and project them onto you. You are more than someone's imagination. And we need you. Please, go back to school." Naomi left the family behind.
Thursday 11.10pm, Joss' apartment
Taylor and John were watching Anger Management in the living room. John's face swelling was gone but his wired mouth made him look like the star of an cheap 80's sci-fi movie. Taylor christened him The College Dropout and accepted her explanation that John incurred the injury out doing badass things with his friends without much questioning. Deep down she worried about Taylor, when she looked at him she could see the ordeal had taken the last of his innocence. It grew in him a fear of the police and his own mortality. She thought back to when she returned from Fallujah, injured. Taylor was seven and hyperconscious of death; equating the deaths of his Uncle Eddie and his pet clownfish Nemo. At the time, the counsellor told her it was a normal phase all children go through. 11 years later Taylor was seeing death everywhere except this time it was his own face that he was afraid of. He liked being with John because he didn't ask questions and although he could speak through gritted teeth, John preferred not talking. She went to the kitchen for a bowl of corn chowder. Her phone rang.
"Carter."
"Yonkers Police Department." Shaw stated.
"4th Precinct? What am I looking for?"
"Luke DeMario: attempted kidnapping and extortion."
"So your stint as a Real Housewife of Eastchester worked out? Those twins are adorable."
"Yeah, whatever. Did the Man in the Iron Mask make it?"
"He did and thanks for the heads up. What was that sound?"
"Uhh...what sound?" Shaw asked defensively.
"It sounded like champagne popping." The line went dead.
Friday, 8.30am, 8th Precinct
"You look happy." Fusco commented. Her sunny disposition greatly contradicted his sombre mood. She didn't notice as she was engrossed in the feed on her computer.
"Why wouldn't I be? We got those ridiculous charges thrown out of court, my son's graduating in June with his class as he should be and Mr AquaScutum is home, where he belongs. What could possibly be wrong with the world?"
His eyes fell to the floor. "They found a body on Rockaway Beach last night. White male, late 40s."
"Cause of death?" She asked, texting Taylor and John to say she'd be home late.
"Strangulation. Wherping."
She looked up from her computer screen. "A grown man got Wherped? Does this man have a name?"
"Detective Mars Walker."
"What?" She knocked the coffee mug off her desk, breaking it at the handle and spilling coffee on the floor.
"His daughter's here to identify the body. We have to give our statements." He looked at her suspiciously.
"Of course; where's Jessica?"
"At the morgue." He leaned in. "Look Carter if there's something you have to tell me, say it now. I don't want any surprises."
She looked him in the eyes. "You're hurt, that's why you're talking like this. He was our partner and our friend." For the first time in their relationship she scared him.
