Enmity
Chapter 5: Half Empty
Daisy and Fin sat at the bar in Mulligan in silence. Daisy took a sip of her beer and looked over at Fin. He was staring off at nothing, taking a couple small sips of his drink. Daisy kept looking at him until he finally looked back and asked, "What?"
"You're not going to ask me about my little melt down?"
"Not unless you want to talk about it."
"Cool," Daisy said, taking another sip of her beer.
After awhile, Daisy looked at her half empty glass and said, "It's half empty. It has always half empty and it will always be half empty."
"What are you talking about?" Fin asked.
"That whole is the glass half empty or half full. It's half empty."
"That's rather a pessimistic point of view," Fin retorted. "I prefer to think that it means you've still got half a glass to drink."
Daisy rolled her eyes and responded, "Life requires a pessimistic view to keep your sanity. The optimistic people are always the first ones to the funny farm."
"Aren't you just a ball of sunshine," Fin stated in a sarcastic tone.
"I sure am," she answered back with a plastered smile.
After awhile, when Daisy was down to one fourth of her glass, Fin asked, "So, how do you like New York?"
"I don't," she answered curtly.
"Why not?"
"You wouldn't like it either if you couldn't go visit your father to see how he's doing or if he's improving," Daisy responded angrily.
Fin was quiet for a moment and then stated calmly, "Tennessee is that far away, if you get a weekend off you could head back there. And then there's always the option to just move back to Tennessee."
"Don't sound so hopeful," Daisy muttered. She shook her head and said, "Those aren't options for me. I can't go home."
"Why can't you?"
Daisy didn't say anything. She stared at the floor for a long while. Finally she mumbled, "I can't talk about it."
Fin nodded understandingly, even though he had no clue what she was talking about, and asked, "So, where's your mother?"
"Died when I was almost seventeen. Actually, she was murdered along with her lover," Daisy answered with no trace of emotion in her voice. It sounded like she was describing a pair of plain, white socks.
Fin was stunned. He didn't think anyone would be that forthcoming with such disturbing information about their past. He took a swig of his drink and asked, "Did they catch the killer?"
She nodded with a sad, amused smile. "The killer, after murdering my mother and her lover, then concocted a plan to murder the Prime Minister. He would have gotten away with it, too, if he hadn't shown up covered in their blood."
"What happened to him?"
"Spending the rest of his life in a psychiatric hospital."
"They didn't kill him? That must have pissed you off."
She shook her head and finished her beer. "I asked them not to kill him. I asked them not to take away the only parent I had left."
There was another stunned silence on Fin's end. Daisy got up and put on her coat. "Thanks for the drink. I would say it helped, but that would be a lie. Good night."
As soon as Daisy was out on the street, she took out her phone and dialed a number.
"Abigail, sorry to call so early, but I have a question. If someone asks me about my parents, what do I say?"
Daisy got the answer instantly. "Say they were in a car crash? Okay, I will. … No, I haven't told anyone about them. Well, good night."
Daisy hung up quickly and let out a sigh. She hated lying, but had become so good at it.
Daisy walked into the precinct early the next morning, and her early was before the sun comes up. She had already been up for a couple hours and already had tea (at her apartment). The last thing she felt like was answering Munch's questions. Oh, she didn't like Munch, and was making that clear. He asked to many questions she didn't feel like answering.
Speaking of Munch, his winter coat was still hung on the back of his chair. Daisy circled around his desk, surveying it. It was littered with papers, files and random phone numbers where most of them were crossed out. This chaotic setting was unusual for Munch, being such an organized person normally.
She started looking around for the owner of the coat. She found him sleeping in the crib, using his suit jacket as a blanket. Daisy rolled her eyes and head back to her desk when her phone rang.
"Speak," Daisy said into the phone. "Oh, hi Abigail, listen, I've been thinking about the problem." She paused and looked to make sure no one was there before proposing, "What if I call him and explain everything?"
Munch had woken up to the sound of a phone ringing. Shortly after that he heard Daisy's voice and decided to get up. When he walked into the squad room, Daisy had her back to him and was unaware of his presence.
Suddenly, she sounded very angry and nasty saying, "He's my father, Abigail and I'm not going to let him kill himself over this. So either you let me speak to him or you are going to explain where I am and why I am there."
There was silence and then Daisy pleaded in a helpless voice, "Please, Abigail, he's the only parent I have left. I'm all he has, there's nothing for him. Please, please, tell him I am okay." There was another pause and then Daisy answered, "Yes, I am fine. Thank you, Abigail."
She hung up the phone and rested her head on the desk, not making a sound. Soon there was nothing in the precinct except silence. Munch felt like this silence was suffocating him and needed it to stop. He walked over to Daisy's desk and asked kindly, "Problems with your dad?"
Daisy jumped and caught herself on the chair just in time to stop from falling. Daisy looked up at Munch, cursing herself for letting him overhear, when she noticed his bizarre appearance. His cloths had the slept in look, and he badly need a comb. She looked directly into his eyes and asked, "Did you go home at all last night?"
"No," Munch answered her bluntly.
"Why not?"
"I was working." If she wanted to play games, he could play games.
"On what?"
"A case."
"Which case?"
"Which part of Tennessee are you from?"
Daisy dropped her eyes and didn't answer him. Munch smirked and said, "This case that I'm working on, I've nearly got it figured out."
"Really?" Daisy asked, trying not to sound distant and was failing.
"Yes, but maybe I should ask what you think about it."
"No, it's your case, I don't want to intrude." She got up quickly and started walking to the other side of the room.
"But Little Miss Daisy, I think you can be very helpful to find the answers to this case," Munch told her with an evil grin as he followed her.
Daisy stopped, feeling very much like a mouse cornered by a cat, turned to face Munch. She squared her shoulders and asked coolly, "What's the case?"
Munch continued to smile as he pulled a large folder off this desk. "This is the personal list from the one nine precinct in Knoxville, Tennessee, where you are supposedly from. This goes back thirty years and there is no Daisy May Clampett on record."
Munch looked over at Daisy and grinned broader when he saw her. True, her face was blank with no detectable emotions, but her breathing became rapid and the blood was drained from her face. He held up three other folders and said, "I called up every precinct in Tennessee, Georgia, and the Virginias. I finally got a sworn testimony from each one saying they never heard of a cop named Daisy May Clampett. It took me all night, with hundreds of hang-ups, 'screw yous' and some other obscenity that I won't repeat in front of a lady. That is if you're a lady and not a drag-queen."
"Can I see those?" Daisy asked quietly.
Munch nodded and handed them over. While she was looking through them, she kept saying, "I am a police officer, this has to be a mistake."
Munch shook his head and said, "No mistake, you don't exist. Who the hell are you?"
An idea struck Daisy. "Are these the only copies?" she asked rapidly.
Munch realized his mistake and lied. "No."
It was her turn to smirk. "Remind me to have you over for poker one night," she quipped at him.
He made a grab for the papers, but she had quicker reflexives. She pulled them out of his reach and drew her lighter. With on quick flick of the thumb a flame jumped from its holding cell and began to devour the papers in a quick orange motion. She let the warmth of the fire blanket her hand, before reluctantly dropping the folder into a metal bin.
"That won't stop me, I'm going to tell Cragen about you. He'll believe me."
"Why would he believe you? You have no evidence and you're known for making irrational theories."
"Who are you really?"
"You ask too many questions, old man," she informed him as she began to circle him like a hawk.
He shifted uneasily, feeling very much like she was going to pounce and attack him. She stopped and he looked her square in the eye. "What are you going to do now, kill me?"
"I'm considering it," she told him dryly. There was a long pause which was broken by a sad sigh and her saying, "Three months, twenty-six days, and eight hours."
Munch stared at her for a while and finally asked, "What the hell is that?"
Daisy smiled smugly at him and said in an accent, but definitely not a Tennessee accent, "You're a detective, figure it," before going back to work without another word.
