The speaker next to Aiden's door buzzed. She padded over to it, barefoot, the parquet cool against her feet. She punched the button.
"Yeah?"
"Aiden? It's Mac, can I come up?"
She paused before answering, wondering why Mac would show up to her apartment at seven o'clock in the evening. "Sure," she finally said, buzzing him through. Moments later a knock sounded on the door. As she opened it, she gave him a quizzical look. "Is everything ok?"
He nodded. "I was just in the neighborhood and thought I'd stop by."
She cocked her head and raised an eyebrow. "You just happened to be in my neighborhood?" she asked.
"Sure. And I happened to stop for Chinese, too, but if you don't want it…" He started to turn away.
"Wait!" She reached out and grabbed the bag he was holding. "Come on in," she said.
He followed her into the kitchen where she opened the boxes of food and dished it out. Moments later she handed him a plate and gestured towards the tiny table in the corner, where they sat across from each other.
"So why are you really here?" she asked, licking sauce off a fingertip.
"A person can't stop and see a friend?"
"You're my boss, Mac, it's a little weird."
"Ok. I thought you could use some company."
She glanced up at him, a startled expression on her face, before she looked back down at her rice.
"Thanks," she murmured.
"Have you talked to your friend?" he asked.
She nodded, eyes still trained on her food, which she pushed around the plate with her chopsticks.
"I stopped to see her on my way home, told her we made an arrest."
"How'd she take it?"
"She was…relieved. But I really don't think it helps much in a situation like this."
"No, it probably doesn't."
They fell silent again and continued eating.
"You know, that's why I got into this job," she burst out suddenly. "I wanted to help. How is it helping if I can't give her peace of mind?" Her voice was slightly louder than normal, the barest hint of horror making it brittle. She knew she was asking for absolution, in a sense, and she also knew she was asking it of the wrong man, but Mac was there and no one else was and it only seemed right that, for a moment, she should feel connected to him in this.
"Listen to me, Aiden, you can't underestimate bringing her justice."
Of course. Justice. That's what it's all about. Because justice is blind and the evidence speaks for itself and that's all either of them should ever be concerned about, right? Aiden could tell Mac was floundering, trying to make her feel better, but she couldn't help but keep on questioning. "She still won't be able to sleep at night. How many other victims and how many other families are still scared?"
He looked at her for a moment, an emotion playing across his face that she couldn't quite comprehend. Finally, he spoke.
"There comes a point when you have to realize that you've done the most you can. You can't take on the weight of the world."
"I can try," she muttered. It didn't seem fair, and that wasn't her idea of justice at all.
He gave a short chuckle. "You're a good person, Aiden."
She smiled then, grateful for his attempt to lighten her mood. "You're not half bad yourself, Mac, staying at your office all evening, going over old cases."
Immediately she knew she had slipped. He hadn't had much of a social life since Claire had died, they all knew that and had carefully avoided mentioning it. Now here she was, shoving it in his face after he'd been nice enough to take the time to make sure she was ok. She felt her cheeks burn. Luckily, he saved her, glossing over it with another chuckle.
"I guess my advice is easier said than done," he said.
"Yeah, I guess so," she said, smiling with him.