Meanwhile, things weren't going so well with the re-enactment of the shooting incident. For one thing, no matter how Kasak explained it, accidently shooting off his weapon was not in line with proper procedures. In addition, the "victim" wasn't hurt; he was, however still very angry. This fact wasn't lost on sergeants Miller and Mac Donald. It was hard to miss someone who bounced around the scene complaining about his window, the cost of replacing it and the stupidity of a certain policeman.
Initially, Mr. May focused his tirade on Reed, correctly believing him to be responsible for the rookie's actions. The problem was that Jim didn't have any answers that satisfied the man. What could he say other than that he was sorry for what happened, that the captain would determine any punishment for Kasak and that the department would pay for a new window pane. Apparently, the store owner felt that tar and feathering was a more appropriate punishment for the dejected rookie.
"Why are people standing around chatting? Certainly someone needs to yell at that rookie. He could have killed Kate and me." Jim had stepped in front of Kasak when he saw Mr. May storming over. As annoyed as he was at Larry, Jim knew from his own experience that the training officer protects their trainee from all dangers; including red faced store owners demanding the rookie's head on a platter. "What idiot put you in charge of a rookie? He needs to be fired along with dead-eye over there."
"Mr. May, I understand that you are upset, but it was an accident. No one was intentionally shooting at you or your wife." Jim wisely chose not to throw Pete under the bus by blaming him for Kasak being on patrol with him. Perhaps because he remembered Pete protecting him from irate citizens; at least until they were away from the scene and he could, ocassionally, tell Jim that the citizen was right.
'An accident, is that meant to be comforting to us? He wasn't shooting at us so it's okay?" The fact that Kasak wasn't aiming at them somehow made the man more irate. "Kate or I could have been killed because of his ineptitude with a gun. Don't they train you people to be careful with your weapon anymore?"
"Mr. May, please calm down. Yelling at Officer Reed isn't going to accomplish anything except interfering with our investigation." Jim was very grateful to Mac for interceding on his behalf. "Would you please go back into your store while we do this? I promise that we'll get out of your way soon."
Soon is a relative term; in this case it meant a little over an hour before they went back to the station. MacDonald told Kasak to assume that he was on administrative leave while the incident was being considered for possible punitive action. The captain would most likely make the leave official.
O~O~O
"They're going to fire me, aren't they?" Larry threw his tie into his open locker and slammed the door shut. "I am so stupid. Two days on the job and I'm gone. The guys I graduated with are going to laugh their heads off."
"You don't know that. I don't even know that." Jim was also changing out of his uniform; albeit less violently. It had been a long shift and all he wanted to do was to go home. Instead he found himself trying to reassure his young partner. "The captain isn't going to treat you the same way he would treat a veteran officer doing the same thing. You're allowed a few mistakes."
"I locked the keys and the shotgun in the trunk. I threw up all over you at the first sight of blood and I shot a plate glass window. Two shifts and I'm going to win the pot." Larry had opened his locker again and continued to throw pieces of his uniform into it.
"The pot, I'm assuming that you don't mean marijuana, right?" Jim was almost positive that his trainee didn't mean the drug, but weirder things have happened.
"No. One guy in our class went to West Point where the cadet who graduates with the lowest class rank is called the goat. So we made our own version. Every member of our class put ten dollars in the pot and whoever gets fired first wins the two hundred ninety dollars." Larry was one of the most disturbed probationers Jim had ever seen.
"You don't know that. When Malloy was a rookie, one of the other rookies went off on his own and his TO had to rescue him by distracting the gunman. His TO took three bullets and ended up retiring on a medical pension. That rookie is still on the force." There was no reason to fill Kasak on the details of Art Macall's short lived return to duty. "When you look at it that way, shooting a window isn't that bad."
"That was what; twelve years ago? A different captain and a different chief training officer, right? " Jim nodded in agreement, but his answer was drowned out by the sound of a shoe hitting the inside of Larry's locker. "Yeah, but at the Academy they kept telling us that standards have gotten higher over the years. Would that guy have gotten away with it today?"
"I don't know, but what you did wasn't nearly as bad as what that rookie did. Relax; you're going to drive yourself nuts worrying. It's going to take a few days." Jim was ready to put his jacket on and go home, but he couldn't leave Larry when he was so upset. He couldn't help but remember all the times that Pete probably had better things to do instead of talking him through things. Pete never left him and he couldn't leave Larry.
"Can you help me? Talk to someone?" Kasak was clearly asking Jim to intervene in the process; something he wouldn't do. He seemed to be clinging to a false hope.
"I'm sure they will interview me again. I'll tell them the truth of what happened, but I can't influence their decision. That's beyond my power." Jim saw that little hope that Larry had fade as he answered the rookie.
"I know that you can't talk to the captain, but what about Malloy? He'll listen to you, right? I mean, he was your partner for a long time. He's got to listen to you." Larry was finally dressed to leave and followed as Jim started toward the door. Jim turned shaking his head.
"Malloy will do what he thinks is right, no matter what I say." Jim sighed; Larry was so desperate, but he couldn't give him false hope. "Let's go, I'll buy you a beer and we can talk."
O~O~O
Sally was surprised to find Pete asleep when she finally got to his room. True, she was later than usual; she had switched shifts with another nurse so that she could be in on the wives intervention with Jean. Still, it was only ten-thirty and Pete was notorious for fighting sleep; maybe it was because being in a hospital unnerved him. Sally knew that part of the reason that he fought tooth and nail against the staff was that it was his way of exerting control in a situation where almost nothing was in his control. For a cop, especially one used to taking command, that is a hard reality to deal with. She stood by his bedside, brushing her hand along his right shoulder; she had hoped to talk to him tonight.
"Dr. Franks had him sedated. He'll be out for a while." Carly, the night nurse had come in to check Pete's vitals when she saw Sally, who looked up confused. "After his therapy session this afternoon, he fell asleep and had another nightmare. It took two nurses to restrain him before he woke up. He wouldn't tell the doctor what it was about, so Franks ordered him sedated for his own protection. The last thing he needs is to be moving around like that." Sally took a step back to allow Carly to take Pete's temperature by sticking a thermometer under his arm. "Dr. Franks wants him to talk to someone about his shooting; hoping it will help him deal with what happened."
"That isn't what they're about. He doesn't remember anything about the shooting." Sally took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I've been through this before. The only thing to do is to wait it out. Eventually they'll stop. Don't worry, I'll stay with him." A very skeptical nurse left Sally in charge of keeping an eye on her patient. After a while, Sally fell asleep in a reclining chair the hospital provides for the families of long care patients to make watching over them a little more comfortable. Somewhere after three, Sally woke to see Pete watching her and smiling.
"What are you smiling at?" Sally rubbed her eyes, shook her head and quickly moved to fix her hair.
"Nothing, I like watching you sleep. Is that a crime?" What he said was offset by the hint of mischief in his eyes.
"Don't give me that. I can tell when you are holding back. What are you up to?" Sally stood up, stretching a little before coming to stand by his bed.
"I was thinking that you don't look much like a river." Pete shifted to the left side of the bed to make room for her; pulling the blankets back to give her a chance to get under them.
"A river, what kind of drugs are they giving you?"
"The usual ones. Will you get under the covers please? It's cold in here." Sally shook her head as she climbed into the bed and slipped under the covers. Between Pete's grin and the spark in his eyes, she knew he was teasing her.
"It's not that cold in here. Are you going to explain that river comment or do I have to request a psychiatric exam for you?" Although she had climbed in bed with him Sally didn't immediately put her head on his shoulder. Instead she rested on one elbow to meet him eye to eye.
"I'm as sane as you are. " Pete met her eyes, daring her to contradict him. ""The South Branch, yeah, that seems to fit."
"What's a south branch? You're not making any sense." Sally was seriously considering pushing the call button to summon the nurse for him.
"I talked to my dad this morning." Pete's grin widened; he was enjoying this conversation way too much to get directly to the point.
"What?" These non-sequiturs were driving Sally to wonder if they had given Pete the wrong medication. Despite that, a part of Sally was glad to see that mischievous twinkle in his eyes; it has been a long time since she last saw him like this.
"You did remind me to call my parents, didn't you?"
"Are you telling me that your father, the rational man that he is, told you that I was a river?" Sally was no dummy; she knew she was being had.
"Metaphorically, yes, you are; for me, anyway." Pete's tone of voice had gotten serious, but his smile was still there and the love he had for her filled his eyes. "Pop and I talked about me; about us. He reminded me of something my Grandfather used to say when I was having a hard time making a decision." He paused for a moment, as if gauging her reaction so far. "He'd look me up and down before asking, 'Are you going to cross the Rubicon or drown in it?'."
"I'm your Rubicon?" Sally recognized the reference enough to give her an idea what Pete might be talking about. Was he really working up to that?
"In a way, yes; you, commitment, marriage are all one and the same. Pop made me realize what I was doing…" Pete left the sentence dangling as he watched her for any kind of reaction. Apparently, he was satisfied with what he saw in her eyes and chose to continue. "You said yesterday that I shouldn't force you into proposing; I won't do that. I was wrong when I said that we needed to wait."
"Are you asking me if I'll cross the Rubicon with you?" Pete felt Sally tremble when she wrapped her arm around his chest.
"Yeah, I am. Will you?" Pete tightened his grip on her, using both arms in an attempt to still the trembling. At that moment, Pete couldn't stop thinking that he almost lost her by asking her to wait.
"Will I what? You haven't asked me anything yet, Officer Malloy." Sally gave him the biggest grin; she wasn't going to let him off the hook. She had waited her whole life to hear those four words.
"Do I have to say it?" Pete took a deep breath and semi-huffed it back out. A year or so ago, Pete had come to the conclusion that he would never ask anyone that question. Somehow Sally had wormed her way past his best defenses. She was staring him down; yes, he did.
"Fine, but can we skip the getting down on one knee part, because that isn't happening anytime soon?" He chuckled at the look Sally was giving him; she was enjoying this as much as he was.
"Hmm, I'll let you slide on that part of it." She matched the mischief that was in Pete's eyes. His father was right about Sally being someone who wouldn't let him get away with any crap; nor would Pete let her slide when she tried to get away with something.
"Sally, will you marry me?" Sally tightened her grip on him, laid her head on his shoulder and began to softly cry; the tears warm on his chest. She was nodding her head in a teary affirmative., but Pete couldn't resist one more thing.
"You haven't said yes, yet."
