Chapter Thirty Two:

Saved by the…

That was Milo on the phone. I'll spare you the details of the conversation – besides, as soon as I hang up it's all I can do to keep from breaking my neck trying to figure out where Beth is. (Yes, Milo and I spoke briefly on the subject Marlina Eddas's integrity, too – but the truth is that I have to trust her, I just don't have a choice. No criminal attorney in the world is going to get me off the hook if Eddas is playing me. Milo assures me that she isn't going to screw me over, insisting that she really will keep her word – but – like I said, I don't have a choice and I know it. I have to come out of this in one piece – and that means I have to trust people. It's just that I trusted Ajedrez – and I trusted Dan Collins, at least to do his fucking job – and we all saw how well that worked out…)

"I'm in here," Beth calls from the kitchen, before I have a chance to really injure myself 'looking' for her. (This whole blind thing is pretty fucking inconvenient sometimes…) She doesn't say anything more, even when I come into the room. I honestly don't know if Beth knows I'm pissed – or if she somehow heard my phone ring and just figured it out… or maybe it was just the way I came tromping down the stairs that gave me away. I reach for what I discover is my last pack of smokes in the cupboard without a word to her, despite the fact that I have to reach just over her head to get them. I'm almost afraid to say anything, I am just that angry at her.

I lean against the counter, trying very hard to just keep everything steady as I get the pack open. Smells like she's got dinner started. We're having left overs. Not that I really fucking feel like eating after that little chat Milo and I just had… After taking a couple of long drags off my cigarette (and realizing it just isn't going to help,) I turn to 'face' the object of my ire. "I just got off the phone with Milo. You do know what he told me, don't you?"

"I – wouldn't expect him to lie to you about anything," Beth's tone is almost coy. Except that coy is cute – and there is nothing cute about what she didn't tell me.

(Of course I can't accuse her of lying, because I never fucking asked…)

"What did you expect me say?" Beth demands, almost out of the blue – the coyness is gone from her tone and it sounds as if she's turned to face me fully.

"You could have told me that Culiacan had turned into a fucking war zone."

"Why? So you'd feel obligated to talk me into staying here where it's 'safe'?"

"That would be one idea, yes. Even if you weren't going to stay here, I would've never let you go back there –"

"And yet you wonder why I didn't tell you?"

"Fucking – you really would have gone back there, wouldn't you?" I don't believe her…

"I still will if you want me to," her tone is cold.

I'm just quiet for a very long moment, trying to really get a handle on that last little statement. I finish my cigarette and put it out – but I don't bother lighting another. It won't help anyway. "Do you mean that?"

"I mean that if you don't want me here, there's no reason for me to stay – but you have to want me because you really want me, not because of what happens to be going on in Mexico."

" 'Happens to be going on' – ? It's a fucking war zone down there, Beth," I'm only barely keeping my voice to a soft roar. "Where's Cicily?"

"Playing in the leaves out back – she's fine."

"Of course she's fine – this isn't fucking Mexico!"

"You're over reacting."

"And you're under reacting!"

"Sheldon – it's less than a month after a failed coup left the city in shambles. A major cartel was crippled – and you know that no vacuum is left open for long. What in Hades did you really think was going to happen? That everything was going to go back to normal – well let me tell you something, mister, normal down there is a war zone. It's drugs and drug money and everybody vying for a piece of the action because there is almost no way for anyone to make an honest living. Why should they work for a few pesos a day when they can make hundreds of thousands growing, refining and peddling that crap? It was just slightly more contained before La Dia de los Muertos – afterwards – yeah, it all went to Hades in a hand basket. Go figure." She turns away from me in what I'm pretty sure is disgust.

And I wonder how much of that disgust is aimed directly at me, because I'm the one who engineer Barillo's removal from power… I left that vacuum at the top… even if she says it's not my fault, I pretty much caused that whole fucking mess and I know it. And more than anything in the world, I wish that I could just see her – because if I could see her, maybe I could figure out if it's me she's angry at or maybe it really is just the situation. But it's pointless – I can't see her. I'll never see anything again… "I thought if it got that bad you'd leave," I say quietly.

"Just where would I go? In with my sister, who would break her fingers dialing Neal's number – or should I just cut out the middle man and go straight back to him?"

"Damn it, you know I'd never suggest that! What about that brother of yours?"

"He's still in the middle of his own mess – and he lives in a one bedroom trailer so it's not like there'd even be any room for us, anyway. Besides, I never could have come back into the country without Milo's help – or did you forget about that federal warrant?"

Milo's help. Yeah. I reach for the pack of cigarettes only to find Beth's hand on mine. "Don't," I warn. I'm in no mood to have my habit curtailed.

"I'm not trying to stop you from having a cigarette. I just – I need you to understand: I didn't have anywhere to go. Besides, Culiacan is – my home."

I heard her hesitate… "Is your home – or was your home?"

"I can't stay here with you just because you don't want me going back there. I had to know that if you said you wanted me to stay, it was because you really wanted me, not because of anything happening in Mexico."

"You still should have told me what was going on, Beth. I'm in the dark enough as it is without you adding to it." Yeah, I really do say that just as coldly as you think I do. I feel – I feel almost as if I've been betrayed somehow. (I'm not real pleased with Milo for not telling me what was going on down there sooner than right now, either – but it's hard to be angry at him when I know he got her out of there.) I'm shaking – but I manage to get my second cigarette of the conversation lit.

Beth is quiet for a few minutes before finally speaking to me again. "I just had to know you really wanted me – or didn't want me – can't you understand that?" Her voice is real quiet and it sounds kinda like she's shaking too.

"Well now you fucking know – happy?" (yep, that's a snarl, all right.)

"I'm sorry, Sheldon."

I take a deep breath – and let it out again. Then I light another cigarette and hand it over to her – Beth takes it from my hand. She really is trembling. "I'm sorry I jumped on you, but – all I could think about was what could have happened – what would have happened if you'd been there last night."

"Last night?"

"De Jesus and his goons burned your neighbourhood to the ground. There is literally nothing left." And as usual, I realize too late that I should have said what I just said a whole fuck of a lot more gently…

Beth doesn't respond – but – yeah, I don't need eyes to know she's turning further away from me – tearing up. It doesn't make me feel any better when I reach for her and she shrugs me off.

"What happened?"

"Milo thinks that maybe someone figured out I'd taken refuge in your neighbourhood somewhere – there were enough people who saw me with Hermano on the Day of the Dead – it really only was a matter of time before someone put it together. De Jesus seems to be in some kind of cahoots with Suarez – and since I surfaced here in D.C. working with the DOJ that just throws a real kink in her plans to frame me – so she got him to move in and – I don't know what the plan was. All I know is – " is how fucking close I came to loosing my two angels last night – only I can't say it out loud. My voice literally refuses to cooperate.

And the part that really ticks me off is that Milo told me how Beth talked Hermano's family into going to stay with relatives in another part of the country almost two weeks ago – but she wasn't planning on leaving until Milo talked her into coming here… (Yes, I really did ask about Hermano – I owe that kid.) "Milo said his guys managed to clear out most of your stuff before De Jesus band of goons came in. He's going to ship it to a service I use sometimes." You know, for when I need 'discrete' deliveries – although I think this will be the first time I've had household goods shipped into the country… good thing it's one of those 'don't ask/don't tell' operations, because I'd really hate to have to explain this one…

"It's not my stuff I'm upset about."

"I know," I don't even try to reach out to her – she's just too far away from me right now, the walls are just too thick and high. All I can really do is hope that this is only a temporary situation… hope that she really doesn't blame for what happened down there. No regrets, no apologizes – just walking my beat, setting them up, watching them fall, pulling the strings and cleaning out the system. Just restoring the balance. Only nothing got restored and nothing got resolved and I just don't know if I can live with Beth hating me for what happened last night – for what would have happened to her and Cicily if they'd been there.

And suddenly I realize that Beth is sobbing.

"I'm sorry, Ange," I tell her softly, still keeping my distance. My own defense mechanisms in action – if I don't touch her, she can't push me away.

"I don't hate you – and I don't blame you – I just can't believe it's all gone – " Beth turns towards me – I feel her leaning right into me. "Please just hold me – I didn't mean to push you out – or leave you in the dark. I'm sorry – I'm sorry."

I fold my arms around her, before she even gets the entire sentence out, drawing her in as close as I can. Maybe I am selfish, but I am just so fucking grateful that she doesn't hate me right now. That's all I needed to hear – all I need to know.

"I'm sorry, Sheldon," Beth continues through her tears – and I remember what she said about her father, about never being able to do anything right by him. I'll bet he held every little mistake over her head until the day he fucking croaked, which is probably why she's still apologizing…

"Shhh," I stroke her hair and kiss the top of her head, wishing I had some clue what I was really doing here. "I shouldn't have jumped on you, Ange, I'm sorry. It's just that all I could think about was – was how fucking close I came to losing you, both of you – and I guess I just freaked out a little."

"Just a little, Cowboy?" she manages to tease me – and I think I really can breathe again.

With a careful touch, I brush the tears from her face, "Just a little," I manage a bit of a smile. It feels so good to hold her like this… to realize that she turned to me… that she's holding onto me…

Beth only stirs when we both hear the back door slide open and Spencer comes bounding into the house with a cold gust of wind and a giggling child on his heels.

"I'll run interference – you should probably get a cold cloth on your face," I tell Beth quietly.

"Thanks."

"Any time – hey – have you – told her yet –"

"I wanted to give you a chance to talk to Emma first – and I wasn't sure – how that would go."

"Yeah. We'll talk about that one later," I mutter. Jim. The nudist. Christ, only Holly could have gotten involved with a guy like that… But, I head into the living room to keep Cicily occupied long enough for Beth to put herself back together… or did you really think I was such an insensitive prick that it wouldn't dawn on me she might not want to have to explain her breakdown to her kid? I'm pretty dense – but everybody has to get it right once in a while, even me.

"Do I even want to know how many leaves you guys just brought in with you?" I ask Cicily in what I hope is a conversational tone – I'm really not good with kids – but maybe I'm getting a little better. Like I said, everybody has to get it right once in a while.

"Not too many," Cicily assures me. Then in a much more subdued voice, she inquires if I've had a chance to ask her mother about going to the museum on Saturday.

Right. With everything else, I almost forgot. "Tell you what – why don't you go get cleaned up and I'll talk to her now."

"How did you know I needed to get cleaned up?" Cicily asks me – just a little bit shyly.

I smile, "I think I remember being about your age and jumping through piles of leaves." Right, sure I do. (What I think I remember is raking up big piles of leaves for Alison to run through… but it's real hard to know what happened anymore…)

"Mama made me braid my hair before going out to play – I hate braids," Cicily informs me then.

(I have no idea what it has to do with anything but…) "Why's that?"

"When I take them out, my hair's all bumpy. I don't like it bumpy."

Ok, there are just some things that men are not meant to understand… I shoo her upstairs and return to Beth, just as the clock in the hall chimes four, reminding me that I have an appointment in a few hours… and I really need to talk to Eddas, too. But first things first…

… "The Smithsonian?" Beth sounds as if I've just suggested something a lot more ludicrous than a trip to the museum. "On Saturday?"

"Why not?"

"For starters, it was barely a month ago that I dug a bullet out of your thigh and it really doesn't look like you've been taking it easy."

"Not in my vocabulary, Darlin', you know that."

"I'm serious, Sheldon."

"So am I. It's just a trip to the museum. I'll take it easy the rest of the week, I promise."

Beth just sighs; it's a very heavy she-knows-she's-beat kind of sigh. "And I suppose you and Cicily have already discussed this, haven't you?"

"Sort of."

"Uh-huh. You just have to promise me you won't use having me around as an excuse to go and get yourself shot up again."

"Well – I can at least promise I won't use having you here as an excuse," I tell her with a bit of smirk, which I'm sure she understands. I have no doubts that I'm going to end up injured again, it just won't be because I have my favourite nurse on hand to patch me up when it happens.

And I'm sure Beth is shaking her head at me, "All right. You have a date."

"Good. Now – um – speaking of dates – I kind of have one of those set up for later on tonight, too."

Silence.

Ok – I hadn't really expected this to go over well. "Her name's Paula Basil. We used to be partners. And – well – partners." Because I'm not going to start lying to Beth now. "The Company gave her the job of investigating what went down in Mexico."

"You mean she's investigating you."

"Yeah, that too. We're meeting for a drink later on tonight – I might be kinda late." Hmm… you know, I don't think that came out quite as well as it could have…

"All right."

Except her tone says 'all wrong.' "I didn't mean it like that."

"I – didn't say you did," Beth insists.

Christ. On a fucking crutch, even. "Ok, look – I'm just going to crawl out onto a limb here and tell you something straight up," I tell her, although I wish I had time for a drink first.

"Sheldon – you don't owe me anything –"

"Wrong. I owe you everything – but that's not what I have to say. So just – be quiet a minute and listen to me."

More silence. It's a stony sort of silence – probably in response my surly tone just then. I make the effort to soften up a little – I'm not angry so much as just fucking nervous. I'm not good at this shit. Like I said, I don't build bridges, I blow them up. "Just hear me out, ok?"

"I'm listening."

I'm stalling… but I started this, so here goes nothing… or everything. "I don't know if I'm ever going to believe that there's anybody else in this world who might, maybe, even consider putting up with me and my shit – least of all Paula Basil. But if there is someone out there who would want to have me around – it just doesn't matter. No matter what your gut keeps telling you about – how did you put it – someone 'over my shoulder' –?"

"I know that doesn't make sense, I'm sorry. It's just – sometimes the things I see and feel don't make any sense to anyone but me – I – I can't control that. Like I said – it's not like in the movies or on tv, I only got that really clear picture the one time – with Daniel. The rest of the time – it's just feelings and metaphor – or really weird dreams that don't even make sense to me until it actually happens."

"That's fine. I don't even believe in that stuff – but – you do, and that's fine by me. However, the point I'm trying to make is that you're missing something really fucking important here."

"And that is?" she asks – and oh yeah, her tone is real fucking defensive.

"The fact that even if you're right and there is someone out there who would actually put up with me, it just doesn't matter. I'm not interested in anybody. Anybody else," crap, I'm really doing a real piss poor job here… "I'm especially not interested in Paula." Been there, done that, didn't keep the t-shirt.

"Humour me a little – tell me about her –?"

Oh, I do not think this is going to end well…but it'll be even worse if I refuse her, and I don't have to be psychic to know that. "There's really not much to tell, Sweetheart. Me and Paula were together – and together – for a year, year and a half, about eight year ago." I reach for my cigarettes – Beth declines my offer, so I just light one up for myself. "We fucked. We also went to the theatre together a few times, had dinner, that kind of thing. But that was just partner stuff – not partner stuff. The sex was just sex, it didn't have anything to do with anything and it didn't mean anything." Which is probably not painting yours truly in a very good light… "I swear, she's the only partner I ever screwed around with," not that I think that tidbit is going to help either…

"Just out of curiosity, was she the only woman you were with at the time?"

Christ – this is going South and fast. "No."

And – just like I expected, there is an awful lot of silence coming from Beth's end of the conversation. "I know how it sounds – " I begin.

She cuts me off, "You don't owe me any kind of explanation – for anything. When I said I would never judge you, I meant it."

"I don't think you meant it like this."

"Maybe not. But I said it and I make a point of keeping my promises."

"Ouch."

"I didn't mean it like that, and you know it. I wasn't ever going to hold you to that promise you made about coming back, because I knew that even though you meant it when you said it that – that plans really do change, ok?"

"Ok." Liar. It's not ok, not with me, but that really isn't her problem, it's mine. "So how much does it really bother you – the whole thing with Paula?"

"It doesn't matter if it bothers me or not, Sheldon. It's stuff that's already happened – besides, I hope you don't think I'm some kind of virgin mother over here."

"Well no – I – really hadn't thought – yeah. Anyway." I am not blushing.

Beth chuckles softly, then, "Look, I'm not going to try to change anything about you –"

"You don't have to."

"Should I be afraid to ask exactly what that means?" And – yeah, she definitely sounds scared.

I honestly keep forgetting that Beth is just as afraid of this whole – whatever it is – as I am. "It means that I'm not interested in anybody else, period. Savvy?"

"I – think so," her voice is real damned quiet.

"Good," I want to kiss her long and hard – but I make due with a gentle kiss that I actually have some hope of pulling back from, because there's still something else I need to say… "Um – can I spring some more 'good news' on you now?"

"And that would be?" but there is a clearly audible smile in her voice.

"How upset will you be with me if I'm not here to eat dinner with you guys tonight?"

"Can I at least ask what's up?"

"I need to bring Eddas up to speed on a couple things – it could take a while." Especially since I bailed on her today… because maybe I am just a wee bit nervous about being played, so if I can give her a reason not to burn me… Christ, I hate operating this way, like some kind of God damned beggar. But right now – I guess beggars can't be fucking choosers.

"For all it's worth, I think she's on the level," Beth tells me. "But – I've been wrong before –"

"You've been right too. Milo trusts her and – wait a minute. Did you actually hear the conversation I had with Marcus earlier?"

"Um – no. I don't even know who Marcus is."

Christ on a crutch.

"Look," Beth says, "Back to the original question – I know you're in the middle of something so if you have to miss dinner, you just have to miss dinner. Just promise me you'll eat something – and then I guess I'll just let you make it up to me later for not eating with us."

Hmmmm… "I think I can live with that," I favour Beth with half a very pleased little smile before stepping out of the kitchen to make that call…

Marlina Eddas picks up in three rings.

"Hey there, Boss Lady."

"Sands. Your – friend – said you were – ill –?"

I just smirk. Friend, huh? Bet she didn't think I even had any of those… "I had a nasty case of familial bull shit, but it's better now – and no, I didn't kill anyone," I assure her. Not that I didn't want to, but… "Have you talked to Milo today?"

"No – he usually only checks in every few days, why?"

I give her the skivvie on what went down last night in Culiacan.

"I was just about to order something in – you feel up to a working dinner?" Eddas asks me.

"You paying?"

"I'm getting Chinese – what do you want?"

"Well, sweet and sour pork is my fave when it comes to Chinese – but anything with pork in it will do."

"Ryan will be there to pick you up in fifteen minutes."

"Peachy keen, I'll gussy up and be waiting by the door – over and out," I say by way of adieu. I really have to wonder what Eddas thinks of me… but more importantly, I need to figure out if she's really as trustworthy as Milo believes she is…

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Me and my partner we work on the run
The quick try to get quicker
And the creepers get hung
Now it's you that got wasted tonight on the job
One lost his liquor
And the other lost his hand

Ten sticky thumb prints on the door and the sink
But nothin' saw nothin' - just smell the stink
Five hundred mugshots and a hundred to one
Four forgotten and the rest just won't come

When you've begun to think like a gun
The rest of the year has already gone
When you've begun to think like a gun
The days of the year have suddenly gone.

Blood on the windows and blood on the walls
Blood on the ceiling and down in the halls
And the papers keep pounding on everything I burned
And the people getting restless but they'll never learn

I picked up a doctor - he's good with a knife
Says anaesthetic's a waste of his time
Works in a hurry but always worthwhile
Knows they won't be back for a long long time

Top of the staircase was ready to fall
We were still waiting downstairs in the hall
Watch out for big mama, she'll set you on fire
Or go for your neck with the chicken wire

When you've begun to think like a gun
The days of the year have suddenly gone
Once you've begun to think like a gun
The days of the year have already gone

Mother of plenty, mother of none
You've got me cornered and still on the run
I don't care nothing about you anyway
Stuck in this hole I'm on my way

Yeah when you've begun to live like a gun
The days of the year have already gone
When you've begun to think like a gun
The days of the year have suddenly gone

-Siouxsie and the Banshees-

……………………………………………………………………………….

Just a song that reminds me of Sands – and it's one of my favourite Siouxsie songs