Chap. 5 – Meeting of the Minds

Disclaimer: Dick Wolf - you know the drill. Bobby & I had a play date.

Characters: Goren, Deakins

Reviews welcome.

Deakins strolled out of his office over to the two detectives. As he got closer, he could discern specific words in their conversation. Goren was talking about an article in Smithsonian™ magazine on Russian icons. Katayeva was giving him her full-court-press attention and responding with apparently knowledgeable comments on Russian iconography. Well, the cultural level at Major Case just jumped up several notches. If the two of them start conversing in Russian, I'm just gonna turn around, go back in my office and shut the damn door.

"Good morning, Captain Deakins," smiled Katayeva, as she extended her hand.

"Welcome to Major Case, Detective Katayeva," responded Deakins, shaking her hand, "I see you and Detective Goren have met."

"Yes, Captain. We were just discussing the Novgorod school of painting," said Goren seriously.

"Ah, right…. So, where are you guys doing lunch?" asked Deakins. Who the hell is Novgorod and what did he paint?

Goren looked at Katayeva, "What cuisine do you like?"

"Everything."

"There's a nice Burmese place on the next block, if that's OK."

"Perfect."

"Have a good lunch, guys," said Deakins. I've been to that Burmese place with Carver. They don't have any knives and forks. You have to use chopsticks or you'll be eating with your fingers. Is Goren is testing her? Hopefully Katayeva is not packing or she's got a talent with chopsticks.

Goren and Katayeva walked the two blocks to Mingala Village, continuing their discussion of the importance of iconostasis in the Russian Orthodox Church. When they arrived at the restaurant Katayeva noted that Goren held the door for her, held out her chair. They decided to share an appetizer, the Ah Kyaw Zon combination, and then ordered Pazun Ah Zut, a spicy shrimp dish, and Panthy Kow Swear with chicken. Goren didn't miss her near-perfect Burmese when she ordered.

"You speak Burmese?"

"Some, but it's quite rusty. One of my college roommates was from Myanmar. I dated her cousin for a while, so I learned to speak it then. Only use it in restaurants now."

Their food arrived. Neither one blinked at the chopsticks. Each expertly handled the wooden utensils and easily moved the food from the plate to their mouths with practiced expertise. Goren immediately noticed that Katayeva was left-handed.

"You're left-handed," said Bobby, "It's uh…unusual for two lefties to …be partnered."

Katayeva switched the chopsticks to her right hand and continued eating.

"I'm a natural righty. One of my brothers is left-handed. My parents thought the rest of us should all get a feel for how Mikhail had to deal with the world, so we all had to use the left hand for chores, brushing our teeth, cutting up food, etc. Using the non-dominant hand forces the engagement of the circuits, connections and brain areas on the opposite side of the brain. Now, I just consider it brain aerobics."

I haven't done any of that switching in ages. I am not about to drop shrimp and vegetables all over myself trying to match Katayeva. Another point to the Russian.

"Have you done that with your own children?"

"Yes," chuckled Katayeva, "Katie and Mack have both been subjected to it. If they want to play Nintendo or XBox, they have to use their non-dominant hand on the joystick or controller. Makes for a lot of practice."

"Do you have any pictures of your children?"

"No. I don't carry anything that identifies my family at all. I can't. It's too dangerous for them if anyone gets a hold of it. Same reason there are never photos on my desk. Perps walk in and out of the squad room all the time. I cannot allow them to view my personal life."

"I understand. I'm single so I have never had to worry about it. I'm, uh….curious. How does your husband feel about your job?"

"Thankfully he understands it. I got really lucky in the marriage lottery."

"What's your husband's name?"

"Jack Kennedy," grinned Katayeva .

"You're kidding?"

"John Adams Calhoun Kennedy, the fourth. Jack is the acronym."

"It just occurred to me why you don't use your husband's name…."

"My initials would be K.K.K. Not a chance!"

"You said your son is Mack?"

"Yeah. Mikhail Adams Calhoun Kennedy. I refused to stick my son with the Roman numeral five after his name. Jack's never liked being the fourth, he thinks it's pretentious. Made him sound like a child of privilege, especially with the Kennedy last name. His parents are just average people."

She and I need to get down to a more serious conversation here.

"Detective Katayeva, why…uh… did you volunteer for this assignment, if you don't mind my asking?"

"You have every right to ask. The answer is very simple. I like working with smart people. You have a reputation for many things, Detective Goren. And intelligence is definitely on the top of that list."

"Among others, I'm afraid," replied Goren, wincing slightly.

"Oh, sure, there's quirky, difficult, demanding, weird, intimidating, and so on down that list. But I would guess that 99 percent of the negatives are due to either jealousy or a small mind on the part of the person making that judgment."

"You… flatter me."

"Goren, when I flatter you, you will definitely know it. I majored in charm. I know how to flatter a man's ego up one side and down the other. I didn't sign on to this job to flatter you or to be your puppy dog. I expect to learn from you. And know that you will also learn from me. It's a two-way street."

"What….uh, what will I learn….from you?"

"If I could answer that question, Detective, I'd also be picking the winning lottery numbers," grinned Katayeva as they walked back to One P.P.