Chapter 7: Business as Usual

Le Petit Monsieur Restaurant

Tuesday, October 2018

12 noon

"I think you've single-handedly kept this place in business for the last twenty years." Tara Williams Leland grinned over her lemonade. She'd called him earlier to see if he was free for an hour.

Myles wrinkled his nose at her. "You invited me out to lunch just to abuse me, didn't you, 'Sis'?"

"Beats cleaning your clock at the gym, doesn't it?" She smiled impishly. "It's been too long. You're the best sparring partner I ever had." Picking up her menu, she glanced at it before looking up at him again. "So, you okay with this new assignment?"

He nodded, leaning back in the chair and absently spinning his iced tea on the coaster. "Mmm-hmm. Amazingly enough, I'm starting to anticipate sharing my vast experience with the younger sect."

She rolled her eyes at him with a grin, then sobered a little to watch him carefully for a moment. Even though they were in-laws, and lived less than two miles from each other, their schedules made it difficult to get together very often. Still, she could tell something was different than the last time she'd seen him.

It was never easy to get Myles to share his feelings, so she opted to start with something completely predictable. "Sam's just dying to sneak in and take your place sometime; he said something about 'teach the greenies about real FBI work.'"

Myles laughed. "Where is my irrepressible twin this week, anyway? Hong Kong? New Delhi? Heaven forbid, Monte Carlo?"

"Nowhere quite so exotic this time," she smiled in return. "He's working on setting up a foundation out in Cheyenne; something about wild horses, I think. I can hardly keep up. He'll be home tonight, though."

"Then we expect you to drop by the house tonight, of course. I want to hear 'Surf Cowboy'."

The waiter came to take their orders just then. When they'd finished ordering, the tall agent leaned back again and grinned at the thought of his twin out on a ranch, tormenting career cowboys with his surfer-dude language. More than a decade had mellowed his brother a lot, but Sam could still out-weird anyone on the planet when he put his mind to it.

"Married thirteen years, and he's still running at Warp 8." Myles shook his head. "I don't wonder you two never had kids of your own. Even your considerable charms couldn't keep him grounded long enough."

Tara blushed a bit at his teasing, but her eyes gained a sad quality. "We never told anyone, but it wasn't for lack of effort. The doctors never did find out what the exact problem was."

His face registered his dismay. "Oh, Tara, I am so sorry. I didn't—"

She raised her hand to cut him off. "It's ok, Myles. I couldn't ask for more. Sam is doing what he loves, and we're happy together. I still have the IT Staff at the Bureau, which I love. We have a wonderful time with your girls; I can spoil my nieces rotten and then send them home." Now she smiled fully. "I call it ample revenge for a 'geek squad' comment some years ago."

Myles chuckled, then toyed with his napkin a bit. "Why didn't you guys ever adopt? I mean, it's not like there's anything you couldn't offer a child, or two, or ten, for that matter."

She shrugged. "I don't really know; we just got too busy helping hundreds of kids instead, I guess. It's been a wonderful thing, going with him when I can, to see the good he does." She answered the next question before he could ask it. "But I still need to do what I'm doing. I believe too strongly in it to give it up, even for a life of philanthropy."

The waiter returned with their salads, and Tara decided it was time to find out what was really going on. "You need to do this job, too, Myles. That's why I asked earlier if you were ready for the change. You didn't sound too happy about it when you called Saturday night to tell us. Now…" She fixed a piercing gaze on him. "Did you finally make your peace with Bobby?"

Myles looked up at her so fast that he missed the fork he was reaching for, and it slipped into his lap. Retrieving it smoothly, he still stared at her for a long moment. "How did you know?" he finally asked, his voice soft.

"More like, how long have I known." She put down her fork and folded her hands together, her elbows resting on the table edge. "I was there that night, Myles. I heard the promise you made to him, and I've watched you turn yourself inside out for the past ten years to keep it. And you've never really felt that you lived up to it, have you?"

He raised a brow at her. "Have you and my wife been confabbing again?"

"I wish," Tara laughed softly. "I've been in your study and seen that team photo get hidden more deeply every year. But today, you seem to be… at peace, I guess. Like the weight of the world is off your shoulders, and this teaching assignment is a new challenge. I can think of only one thing that would accomplish so much."

Now she fixed her dark gaze on him again. "He'd slap you on the shoulder and say 'Good on ya, mate. Go teach those hoons how it's done in the real world.' Then he'd laugh while we all tried to figure out what on earth a 'hoon' was."

Myles entertained her with a smug smile. "I happen to actually know that one, my dear. A 'hoon' is a hooligan. And, having seen more than one incoming class at Quantico, I believe the term becomes more apropos every year."

:
Bullpen, Hoover Building

When Myles got back from lunch, Earl Guaraldi was waiting at his desk with a file folder in his hand. The Italian computer-tech was giving the Harvard grad a look of exasperation.

"Do you purposely go out of your way to drive me off the edge, nonno?" Earl asked, a spark of amusement in his dark eyes.

Myles grimaced. "Now what?"

The younger man held out the folder. "I have here a list of files that were on the last CD you gave me, when you cleared out your report files for archiving. There are over fifty. And none of them use the filename system that Lucy set in place six months ago. Don't tell me you and she are still at odds."

Myles rolled his eyes; it didn't matter how many years passed, some grapevine subjects never died out. He and Lucy, his original treatment of Sue, the "great office war" with Randy Pitts… Though, he thought with a smug smile, that one deserved to become the stuff of legend. Snoopy and the Red Baron, indeed. Still, some days it would be nice to be reminded more of the man he'd become, not the one he'd been.

He drew himself up straighter. "It has nothing to do with Lucy, and everything to do with the fact that I simply didn't think about it when I named the files. I'm used to doing it my own way, is all. Change takes time."

"Uh-huh." Earl slapped the folder against his teammate's chest. "Well, I don't have time to decode it. And Records would like the archiving done on time this quarter. You think you can get it back to me by the end of the day?"

"Yes, Mother."

Earl grinned as he straightened, and then tossed another file folder at Brian Rhodes, who had been watching the exchange with a smirk. "Don't look so smug, there, bambino. Yours are worse than his."

"Hey, I learned it from him," Brian quipped back. "How can it be worse?"

Just then, Jack walked in with Kendra Phillips, the newest member of the team. Every time Myles looked at her, he felt like a grandfather. Six months out of Quantico, she didn't look old enough to be out of pigtails. She was brash, opinionated, and very good at her job, for someone barely out of the Academy.

Brian grinned. "You know, every time you stare at her like that, I think she's gonna walk over here and belt you, or slap you with a harassment suit."

"Which just goes to show where your mind normally is," Myles countered smoothly. "Kendra just has a way of making me feel ancient without even trying. No one should be allowed that much energy combined with that much attitude." He sat down and began to work on his file list.

Five minutes later, a hand on his shoulder brought his head up. He turned and found himself facing dark eyes glaring down at him through gold-rimmed reading glasses perched on a slender nose.

"And where does it say that your monthly allotment of Stickies can be used for the purposes of re-naming the report files you should have named properly in the first place?"

Myles blinked; the intonation, the turn of phrase, had him stunned. Then a giggle escaped his interrogator, and he smiled, shaking his head. "Good heavens, woman, you're going to give me a heart attack. For a minute I thought Randy had actually returned."

Lucy Dotson Reynolds was laughing fully now. "Sorry, Myles. I couldn't resist. But I am going to dock your Stickies if you don't quit making Earl re-name your files every quarter."

He leaned back in his chair, gazing up at her. "In three… no, two-and-change, days, you won't have to worry about me anymore. And Earl informed me I'm to re-name my own files, which I'm doing right now."

Her dark eyes went impish. "Well, now, that's just the thing. Management Services is now going to be handling the MS out at Quantico as well. So you'll have to retire in order to escape me." She entertained him with a low, spooky laugh.

"Or you'll have to retire in order to escape me." The laugh worked much better in his low baritone.

Lucy smiled. "Seriously. You okay?"

He let his breath out in amused exasperation. "Everyone keeps asking that. Yes, I'm okay."

"Just checking. Those poor cadets have no idea what they're in for." She handed him a file folder. "Inventory form for your desk Friday. Nothing major. Darren and I will see you at the party."

"Thanks, Luce." She started to walk away, but he caught her arm. "Hey… I know I've already said this a hundred times, but I'm sorry. For all the messes over the years."

"That did it." She pulled a tissue out of her pocket. "Darn it, Myles, I told myself I could walk in here, tease you like old times and get away without crying. Then you had to go and do something, totally out-of-character ten years ago, that's perfect for you now." She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Give 'em hell down there at the Academy." Then she quickly left, dabbing at her eyes.

Myles sat back in shock; across the room, Jack Hudson was chuckling. "Man, when you and Lucy are bosom friends again, I know it's time for a change of scenery."

:
4 p.m.

"Daddy!" Rachel ran into the Bullpen, stopping just long enough to give Jack and Brian high-fives as she flew by.

Myles looked up from his reports, then stood with a smile, sweeping her up and around into a hug. "Hey, Princess. Where's your mother?"

"Mr.— I mean, Agent Helling stopped her by the elevator with a question. She said it was okay if I came in, but that I had to come back if you all were… um… talking shot, I think."

The tall agent laughed. "I think you mean talking shop." He fingerspelled it for her.

"Oh. Yeah, that."

Brian waved a hand at her to get her attention. NOT BAD, he signed. WORD CLOSE.

Rachel nodded. "My teacher says my lip-reading is getting better. I still miss a lot, though."

Her father set her down, smiling. "You're doing wonderfully. But I think it's easier when it's a phrase you already know, isn't it? How was your appointment with Dr. Billings?"

Her face fell a little. "He wants to plant me."

"He wants to what?" Myles asked as Elizabeth walked in.

Rachel's blue eyes were a bit frightened. "He said my decibel levels are at 95 in my right ear and 100 in my left. That's high enough for a coke…cokel…"

"A cochlear implant?" This time, he fingerspelled it phonetically for her, so she'd get the pronunciation. Then he glanced at his wife. "I thought they said it wouldn't work for her."

The psychologist sighed. "That's what he said; what he meant was that her decibel levels weren't enough to qualify her for one. Now they do, and he's pushing the idea. He says that it will stunt her speech and sound recognition if she doesn't have it right away. I asked him about other options, but he's not considering any."

Myles was stunned; he dropped into his chair heavily.

Kendra Phillips looked up from her report. "That's great. Now you can go back to a normal life again."

"Normal?" Brian retorted. "And what's been 'abnormal' about the last four years?"

The redhead snorted delicately. "Gee, let's see… your kid suddenly can't hear you, and you have to not only learn sign language but remember to make sure she can see you, pay for a private school and a tutor to teach her how to read lips, get her a bunch of special stuff so she knows when the doorbell rings or something, drag her to countless 'deaf events,' catering to a bunch of people who can't function in the real world… shall I go on?"

Rachel might not have caught much of what was said, but she got enough. She buried her head against her father's shoulder. Elizabeth's brows lowered darkly.

Jack Hudson was on his feet now, but Myles beat him to the reply. Drawing Rachel onto his lap, he glared at Kendra. "Excuse me, Agent Phillips. First of all, my daughter is sitting right here, so there's no need to talk about her as if she weren't here." He held the little girl close, drying the single tear that had trickled down her cheek. Then he continued. "And secondly, I don't have a single regret about the last four years, except for the fact that Rachel tells me she misses my voice."

"Well, now she doesn't have to," Kendra replied stubbornly. "And I don't believe for a second that you'd not rather have her back as she was, with her hearing intact."

"That's just it, Kendra," Jack said. "A cochlear implant doesn't restore hearing, even today. The best it can do is enhance what's left. And it's not a guarantee."

"He's right," Brian added. "Hell, they offered it to me when CIs first came out. I considered it, until they told me that once they bore the hole in my skull to put in the implant, if it doesn't work, my ear is shot completely. And I'd still need my HA for the other ear. None of which has changed in ten years. No, thank you; I'm not risking my Special Agent status on a possibility of a little more range. I'll stick with what I've got, and the culture I enjoy."

"Brian," Myles said quietly. Rachel's eyes were wide, having caught a great deal of what he was saying, and she was visibly trembling.

"Oh, sweetie, I'm sorry," the younger agent said. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"I don't really think this is a discussion for here, Myles," Elizabeth said softly, shooting a glare of her own at Kendra. "We can talk at home. Rachel just wanted to stop and say hi."

"I think you're right." He stood and swept Rachel up in his arms again. "Oh! You're getting too big to do this to, Princess. I'll see you at home later, okay?"

"Okay." Her voice was quiet, and the blue eyes were troubled. "Daddy?"

He nodded and set her down. NOT WORRY, he signed. EVERYTHING O-K. LATER WE TALK.

After they left, Myles walked over and leaned his hands on Kendra's desk. "Kendra, I'm only going to say this once." His eyes were glacial. "Don't you ever demean my daughter like that again, in her presence or in mine, or you and I will have a serious problem. Do I make myself clear?"

The redhead's eyes were wide, but she was silent until he picked up the report Jack had asked him to take to Dimitrius and stalked out of the room. Then she huffed again. "Bleeding-heart parents," she snorted. "Coddle the kid, cater to her disability, and make the rest of the world come to her. I hate to tell him this, but it's Rachel who will get left behind."

Jack had remained quiet during most of the conversation, but now he stood and leaned against his desk, surveying the newest of his team. He started to lay into her, then had a flash of another, much more experienced agent who had said almost the exact same thing almost fifteen years ago. The memory made him take an extra breath before he spoke.

"Let me explain something to you, Kendra, Myles was once of the same opinion as you; he had very little use for a new surveillance specialist I brought in. Because she was deaf, he thought she would only be a hindrance to us, that she could in fact endanger us. Mostly he just didn't want to have to adapt to her needs. He was uncompromising, unaccommodating, and downright rude."

Now Jack stepped toward her until he was in the same position Myles had been. "But he worked with her. He hated every second of it at first, but he worked with her. And he eventually came to the same conclusions the rest of us did: just because she couldn't hear, it didn't affect her ability to contribute to this team. And, by the way, that surveillance specialist now heads up an intern project that is one of the best things ever to happen in the Bureau. Oh, and she's been my wife for the past twelve years. So you might want to re-think some of your preconceptions."

:
Dimitrius Gans might be three years from retirement, and he might not see the members of his team on an hourly basis any more, but he knew when something was eating at one of them. He caught Myles as the blond agent dropped a file on his desk and swung around without a word. "Earl giving you a hard time about your file-naming system again?" he teased.

Myles swung back around, and opened his mouth to make a retort, until he remembered the current status of his once teammate and sometime confidante. "I—" He swallowed whatever he was about to say.

D smiled. "Ok, off-the-clock. Sit down. You look like you need a serious vent."

Ten minutes later, Myles sighed. "I just don't understand how anyone can be so narrow-minded. And to comment right in front of Rachel like that. If I didn't pride myself on being a gentleman, I'd have been tempted to punch her out."

The older man ran a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair, and repressed a smile. Instead, he softly and deliberately quoted a phrase he hadn't even thought of in fifteen years. "Occasionally even the deaf squirrel finds a nut."

The blond agent looked up in shock. Then a look of utter devastation swept across the aristocratic features, and his eyes dropped. "Oh, dear G—… D, is that truly what I sounded like? I was just like Kendra, wasn't I?"

"Not quite," D replied. "You had manners enough to keep most of the worst of the comments to yourself. But the attitude? Oh yeah." At the horror he saw in his friend's eyes, he sat forward. "Myles, that was fifteen years ago, and you're not the same person. Quit beating yourself up over it."

"I watch Rachel now…" The blue-grey eyes were unfocused. "The elegance of her hands as she signs… her smile, the sweetness that comes through even when she struggles to read someone… the joy in her face when I take her to the symphony and we both kick off our shoes to feel the vibrations better… and I can't imagine her any other way." Now he looked up. "My life is richer, D. A struggle at times, yes; but richer than I could have ever dreamed."

"So what are you going to do about this implant idea?" Dimitrius asked. "It's up to you and Elizabeth."

Myles stood. "No, it's not. It's up to Rachel."

:
The rest of the afternoon went by in a blur; Myles was so impatient to get home and help his daughter through a very difficult decision that he found himself doing his reports almost automatically. He handed the archive file back to Earl in record time, and actually started Lucy's inventory report. Finally, at five o'clock, Jack told him to get out and go home.

"It'll wait," the unit leader said. "You need to go talk with Rachel. You want some support staff?"

"Thank you, but I already have someone in mind, particularly after this afternoon. Can you spare 'Youngster' as well?"

Brian looked up as he heard his nickname. "Me?"

Myles nodded. "You've been there, or at least have more information on it than I currently do. You have dinner plans?"

The younger man leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his auburn hair and contemplating the ceiling for a moment. "Let's see… I have a choice between my own bachelor culinary talents, or Liz's…" He looked up and grinned. "No contest. Let's go."

On their way out, Myles noticed an aide walk in and put a folder on his desk. He almost turned around and grabbed it quick, but Brian caught his arm. "It'll wait. You'll be back here in fourteen hours anyway. If it's pressing, they'll call."

"True."

They walked out, and no one noticed the blue file folder with its sticky note attached: Released from Maryland Prison Center today: Kyle Singleton, jewelry theft and extortion. Sentence served in full.