After getting severely scolded by both Swersky and Christopher, Bosco and I were allowed to start our tour. We had made quite a scene in the locker room or at the very least, quite an impression on our fellow officers. Sully and Davis had come back in when they heard me yelling. Sully stood back and laughed and Ty came over with his hands up and very uncertainly asked me to put my foot down and let Bosco up. By that time some other officers had come into the locker room and were doubled over laughing at Bosco lying on the floor covered from head to toe in shaving cream. I was so mad that I didn't care who saw what I did. Bosco knew from my entire demeanor that I meant business but I could tell he was embarassed as hell. Served him right.

Out in the RMP Bosco sat as far away from me as he could, his body half turned towards the door just waiting for me to lash out at him or do something else totally insane. I admit that I've never done anything quite like that to him before; not that he didn't deserve it. I am usually a pretty level headed person but when my best friend goes around saying that I'm a lesbian, that just draws the line.

I glanced over at him and inwardly delighted in his obvious discomfort. He sat with his arms crossed over his chest, his hair shiny and so darn clean, with his sulky smirk that just about drove me insane. It was almost like he was five years old and I had sent him to bed without his supper. His tantrums certainly reminded me of a five year old.

He glared at me and stuck his nose up in the air when he saw me looking at him. "What?" he snapped snottily.

Instantly, my stomach knotted up. This was one shift that I could have done without. "Nothing." I snapped back, determined not to make up with him—at least for today. Tomorrow would be another story and I truthfully didn't think I could go another shift with us fighting.

"Humph." He snorted and then turned and looked out the window.

I pushed up my sunglasses on top of my head and turned to look at him. "What was that?"

"What was what?"

"That snort." I accused. "What was that for?"

He snapped around in the seat, startling me so I pulled my head back to get a better look. He pointed at me and I could feel the burn in those eyes.

"You didn't have to do what you did, ya know." He said angrily. "You know how much Christopher hates me and now, thanks to you and your shaving cream, we have to wash all of the squads this weekend on our one day off!"

My eyes widened at his obvious insanity, because he couldn't seriously think for one second that I was going to take the blame for the mess we were currently in. "You must be crazy." I mumbled as I checked my rearview mirror for traffic and finding none, pulled the car over as fast as I could and slammed on the brakes.

"Come again? I'm not the one who went wild in the locker room." He said, cupping his ear with his hand. He saw the fire burning in my eyes and closed his mouth before he said something else he knew I would not take well.

"Me? You have the audacity to blame me for this? If anything—" I started.

"You're darn right!"

"Me? You told your friend that I was a lesbian, Bosco! What did you think I was going to do? Just let it go?"

"How do you know what I said or didn't say?"

"I saw him this morning and I asked him out for coffee sometime and he just happened to casually mention it to me, you jerk! Do you know how embarrassed I was? Do you?"

"It's over now so just let it go!"

"Let it go? No...I don't think so. This is all your fault! If you..." I accused, starting to get really angry at his cavalier attitude.

"Who had to throw the broken bottle of shampoo?" He questioned, cutting me off.

"You were the one who—"

"And who had the can of shaving cream?" He continued, knowing full well that it drove me nuts to have someone constantly interrupt me when I was trying to speak.

"Bosco!"

"And who had to knock me down to the floor and—"He rambled, his face turning red, his finger pointing dangerously close to my face.

I had to suppress the urge to laugh at that one and I might have if I hadn't been so busy looking at that finger and fighting the urge to just lean over and bite it off. . "Knock you down? You must have hit your head pretty hard you moron, cause the only thing that knocked you down was your own two clumsy–ass feet!"

"Sure, Faith. You just can't let it go, can you? You are such a sticker for details!" He huffed.

I snorted. "Sticker? I think the correct word is stick—ler." I said sarcastically. "Now I know how you get all the ladies—with your grammatically correct big words."

"Shut up." He spat, his eyes narrowing. "At least I don't have pink panties with little dots all over them! What are you, ten?"

"That's it!" I yelled, pointing to the door. "Get out!"

His eyes darted to the curb which we were parked beside. "You can't be serious."

"Oh, I'm serious!" I hissed at him, pointing at the door. "I've never been so serious in my whole life! Get out!"

His face scrunched up in his famous disgusted look, the one that he got when he was really peeved about something, just like the time that we had to do traffic duty after that perp wrote 'Bosco is a dick' on the side of our RMP. "What am I supposed to do? Walk back to the house?"

"I don't care what you do! You can go jump in the Hudson for all I care! I'm not riding with you anymore today!" I yelled at him.

"Fine!" He spat at me as he opened the door. He shut it and then leaned down into the window. "Ya know, Faith, you can really wring a guys nuts sometimes." He said nastily, then abruptly turned and walked away from me.

I gave him the finger as I drove by him walking up the block. He saluted me as I passed, his face still awash in anger and if I wasn't mistaken, maybe a little hurt. And even though I wouldn't admit it to him I sure as hell was feeling a little hurt myself.

It wasn't just that he was being an ass. He's bosco. He's always an ass. Hell, I expect it and am almost to the point of taking him to see a doctor if I don't hear a racist, childish or chauvinistic remark during our shift.

What bothered me the most was that he didn't think I was good enough for one of his friends. Sean Kelly was his best friend since childhood and they still did a lot of things together. I had heard about Sean from him many times over the years and he always sounded like a real stand up guy. He worked in Manhattan at Trump Tower. From what Bosco told me, he was pretty high up there. He worked with Donald Trump doing financial stuff—whatever that entailed, I would never know, but anyway, he just sounded like a nice fella.

So when I met Sean for the first time I was really interested in talking to him. Bosco was forever telling me stories about the things the two of them did and I thought it would be fun to sit down and have a few beers with him. He was also a very good looking guy, with his dark hair and really great facial features. He also had a set of very perfect, very white teeth. He smelled so good and when he smiled at me for the first time I actually felt myself feeling a little lightheaded. But the longer I sat at the table the more hostile and annoyed Bosco became. He pretty much ignored me the entire half hour I was there and then clanked his glass down on the table, signaling for me to leave. Or at least that's the way I took it.

I sighed to myself as I drove around the blocks that we were supposed to be covering and thought that maybe I was being foolish to get separated from my partner. If we had an important call than I wouldn't have his backup and then would have to explain why I'd dumped him on the side of the road. What could I say? He was being mean to me? I started back around the way that I'd came to try and find him, all the while thinking about why he was the only person that could rile me up within an inch of losing my mind.

It was so damn hot in the car that I could feel the sweat sticking to the back of my uniform, making me feel very uncomfortable. I was beyond irritated at that point. I growled to myself when I had made a third trip around and still didn't see him. I decided to go around the block one more time and then go get some lunch at Haggerty's. I didn't dare call him on his radio for fear that the boss would find out my partner was no where to be found.

I thought about how after my divorce Bosco was the only one to really take an interest in what I was doing or how I was. Both Emily and Charlie preferred to live with Fred and there really wasn't anything I could do about it. I worked long hours. I was never home. It was probably better for them in that way to be with Fred. As long as he didn't start drinking again. One thing I could never say about Fred was that he wasn't a good father. He loved our kids and no matter how sordid or ugly our separation had been, and it was ugly, it still made me feel a tiny bit better knowing that my kids were safe and, I guess, happy.

That's when Bosco and I really started to get connected. I knew he just felt sorry for me, but he would come over sometimes with pizza and rent silly movies to make me feel better. Sometimes he would take me for Sunday drives and we'd get ice cream, and as good as it made me feel, it reminded me that I had no one and he always had someone. There were times during out outings together that I would wonder what it would be like to date him, to call him my boyfriend, but tried to dismiss those thoughts as soon as they wandered into my head.

I knew that he'd never look at me the way he looked at other women. I would have to make due with his friendship, which was better than nothing. During those moments in time I got to see another side to him. The non-whiny, not a jerk, nice guy. That guy seemed to be reserved only for me and maybe a few others but no one at work saw him the way that I did. Too bad it wasn't always that way, for the second he got to work the old Bos was back. But hey, I dealt with it.

But just because I wasn't his type did that mean that I wasn't anyone else's type either? It hurt me to know that he had made the decision to stick it to me in such a way that he thought I'd never find out. Lucky for me I had run into Sean that morning and we'd had a pretty lengthy conversation and it was pretty obvious that he was completely caught off guard when I asked him out. But what I didn't tell Bosco was that he had said yes. We were going out on Friday night, only it wasn't coffee. He suggested dinner and then a movie or a show.

Hungry and more than a little hot, I gave up my search for my partner and pulled into Haggerty's and went inside. Lo and behold, who was sitting there at the bar stool but Mr. Boscorelli himself. He smirked at me as I entered.

"Look, it's little miss hot pants." He said sarcastically, not in a forgive or forget mood.

I took a deep breath and rubbed my temples with my index fingers. It was gonna be a long night.