Twenty-Two

"What you need, my friend, is a detox."

"Aisha, I refuse to do that juice-cleanser-diet with you again."

"I'm not talking about that, thank you. Though you have to admit, it worked."

"It tasted like shit."

"It wasn't designed to cater to your taste buddies, Leah. Anyway, what I am referring to is a relationship-drama detox."

"Not again..."

"I should have never connected your call for him; that was my fault. The moment you heard his voice again, all of this progress went out the window. Now, you're thinking about not getting a divorce—"

"First of all, I didn't say that."

"Yeah, well, you were pretty much insinuating it. Remember, Leah, you're not the only seasoned detective around here. I can read between the lines... Have you considered going on vacation?"

"Have you forgotten we're on Team Voldemort?"

"I can't believe they named the task force, Voldemort—And so? Life goes on. From the way things are adding up, this task force isn't going to get disbanded anytime soon. Look, I'm not talking about going away for a week. How about a weekend? We can finally go to New York and roam around Times Square like you've always wanted."

"I've been to New York before."

"Yeah, but not with me."

Leah gave Aisha a genuine smile. "Nicely played, Aisha, nicely played."

"So, how about it?" Aisha asked. "No Sam. No Emily. Definitely no Operation Voldemort. Just for two days. It's only a two-hour flight, and the prices aren't that bad. You need a goddamn break. I won't take no for an answer."

"Fine."

"Three weeks from now," Aisha said. "Third weekend in July. We're going to leave right after work and return mid-Sunday. And you're gonna leave your work phone at your home."

"What if something comes up?"

"If it's an emergency, Jacob will contact you on your personal," Aisha said. "But I'll make sure to explain to him what exactly constitutes as an emergency."

"Emily called."

Leah snorted as she reached for the mashed potatoes. She considered asking about her cousin's well-being, but then she realized she shouldn't give a damn.

She ignored the curious look on Seth's face.

"She asked for you."

Of course, she had. She had been asking for her for weeks. Most likely to discuss the welfare of her baby daddy. The audacity of that girl. "I don't care," Leah declared.

Seth raised both eyebrows and silently continued to eat. He was going to remain quiet for the rest of the conversation. Smart guy, Leah thought.

"I don't get that girl," Sue took a bite of her salad. "You'd think by now she's realized that you don't want to have anything to do with her. Maybe she's simply grasping at straws..." She shrugged. "I don't know."

Leah's mind went back to a conversation she had with Jacob a couple of weeks back concerning Emily. She had been relentless with her attempts to "talk" to Leah again, and Jacob, who was starting to become more annoyed than Leah, had suggested getting a restraining order. The idea had sounded wonderful, but she couldn't do it. She didn't think it was that serious.

"It's practically stalking," Jacob said. "You know that's a crime, right?"

Leah rolled her eyes. "Don't insult my intelligence."

"I'm just saying. Don't let the growing belly fool you. A pregnant stalker is still a stalker."

Leah would only consider it if Emily had gotten out of line. Or rather, crossed the line.

"If I burn everything that belongs to Sam, will that help my nerves? My situation? My sanity?"

"Surely, you'll feel better at that moment. Destroying things can be therapeutic," Jenks said calmly, folding his hands on his office desk. "But it won't help you in the long run. He can sue you for property damages. Trust me, I've overseen enough divorce cases to know that's the truth."

Leah scoffed. "Since when were you a matrimony lawyer?"

"Back in the day. When I was young, thirty pounds lighter and not dumb enough to get involved in criminal law."

"Well, I appreciate your legal advice. I'll keep that in mind."

"It's not worth it," Jenks told Leah. "Sometimes, it's just easier for both parties to just walk away. You don't need to be an inspiration for a Jerry Springer episode. You have enough on your plate. And Leah?"

"Yeah?"

"Embry had stopped by sometime last week, asking about getting a subpoena, all normal things," Jenks said. "But he did mention, perhaps in a slip-up, that there's a little rift between you and Jacob."

Leah rolled her eyes. "That guy..."

"I don't care who started it or whatever. Make up, somehow, please. For my sanity."

Leah couldn't believe she was talking relationship—personal and professional— advice from an assistant state attorney when they were supposed to be discussing Emmett and Jessica's autopsy. But even she would have to admit that she was feeling better. "Anything for you, counselor," she said, deadpanned. "Anything for you."

"Thank you," Jenks said. "Okay, so back to the real reason why you're here. I talked to my contact in the ATF, and according to her, they're extremely grateful for your assistance. They'll keep me posted about any updates, but..." He folded his hands and leaned in. "You didn't hear this from me, but some shit is about to go down.

"I've heard."

"Details?"

"I don't have much, but apparently, we're not arresting the main suspects right now… for whatever reason."

Jenks leaned back and nodded. "Yeah, just as I suspected. And the ATF did promise to credit CPD for helping with Emmett."

Leah smiled. She was glad to hear it, and Paul would have a field day. She would tell him later to lighten his mood. "What it's looking like for him?"

"If he cooperates, he'll probably get charged for some bullshit possession. Looking at one to two years, max in Alcatraz. The place is kinda harsh, but given the man's condition, there's nowhere else to put him with endangering the other inmates. We don't need a prison-bloodbath."

"I understand," and then, "Is he cooperating?"

Jenks sighed. "Not really. Despite Miss Hale's intervention."

Just as she suspected, it was fine, though; someone was in custody. "So, how about Jessica?"

Jenks snapped his fingers. "Right." He dug into his drawer, pulled out a file, and handed it to Leah. "I know you're not exactly a fan of one Miss Lauren Mallory, and think she is foolish for not going under witness protection, but she's done some good work for us."

Leah raised an eyebrow and opened the file. Tons of court documents. "How so?"

"Her disappearance and subsequent reappearance have scared off some people. Enough to convince our lovely Justice Sorio to reconsider a previous court order."

"He's dropping the injunction?"

"He's suspended the temporary restraining order until the upcoming permanent injunction hearing two weeks from now," the prosecutor explained. "It wasn't a complete slam-dunk, but we can work with his. I've already notified the Office of the Medical Examiner, and they are making preparations. We don't need a certified copy of the autopsy, just something to submit into evidence."

"But doesn't it have to be authenticated?" Leah wondered. "An unofficial autopsy is going to work?"

"We'll worry about that when the time arrives," Jenks said with a dismissive wave. "I'm working on getting the case transferred to another judge. Because of the conflict of interest and the fact that Sorio may or may not be under federal investigation."

"Jenks, this is pretty much the biggest case of your career," Leah reminded him. It wasn't like Jenks to just relinquish a major case, especially not to the feds. He, like pretty much everyone else in this Cook Country justice system, had a love-hate relationship with the federal government. "Do you want the feds to take over?

The expression on the prosecutor's face told Leah that he didn't, but felt like he had no other choice. Jenks just sighed, removed his glasses, and put them back on. "Do you know Carolina Barba?"

Leah had heard of her. She was the US attorney for the Northern District of Illinois, a federal prosecutor. Known for quite literally having no fucks to give... much to the chagrin of the bureaucracy and criminals.

"You may be seeing more of her," Jenks said. "I know we mere state employees want to do everything ourselves, but in this case, we can't. Not with that Deal in place."

"All I want to know is if we have a chance to bring those assholes down."

"We do," Jenks promised. "If we play our cards right. I'd continue with your investigation if I were you; the Voldemort Taskforce is doing a wonderful job."

"Thank you."

"We may need to officially change that task force name before we go to trial."

"I agree."

Leah didn't do this often, but she figured, hey, why not? She didn't have to work in the morning. No one would judge her for her slight hangovers or completely-obvious sunglasses while she was inside the police station—

For the record, she wasn't drunk. She didn't get drunk. Or at least, not since college or occasionally during the academy while she was partying with other cadets. That was years ago, and she had improved significantly. There were a few hiccups, of course. The latest one being last year when Sam and his mess had compelled her to down an excessive amount of rum. After experiencing the worse hangover in history, Leah had vowed herself (and her toilet) not to go through that again.

She was a bit buzzed, perhaps tipsy— she could never figure out which came first. She had three beers. She would be fine with three beers. Three beers would allow her to, she supposed somewhat, think clearly, and be mindful of her surroundings. It was near eleven at night. She was sitting at a local bar that wasn't a dive, not too crowded, not too rowdy. The bartender was keeping an eye on her even after Leah had promised she wouldn't have another beer.

The detective couldn't remember why she had decided to come to the bar in the first place. She hadn't thought that hearing from Sam, from Emily, from everyone, would set her off. But she supposed that it had.

Divorce.

The upcoming baby that wasn't hers.

And then there was Jacob.

Leah finished off the last of her third beer and slapped down a ten on the bar before hopping off her stool. She pulled out her phone- only ten percent of battery left, shit—and quickly ordered an Uber. She froze when the prompt asked for her destination.

She could go home. She should go home. Or rather, her mother's. Or even as a last resort, Aisha's. But instead, Leah typed in a West Ridge address. Where Jacob resided.

Leah wanted to apologize for her behavior last week. It was the least she could do. She couldn't bear the thought of messing up whatever-they-have because of such a trivial thing. She wanted to start the following week on a good note. It was Friday night; they wouldn't see each other over the weekend unless there was an emergency. She wanted, no, needed, to get this done and over with, and perhaps go to bed with an empty mind.

As soon as Leah knocked on Jacob's door, she regretted her decision. But at this point, she knew there wasn't much she could do but face the music. Her Uber had driven away minutes before, and her phone didn't have any more juice.

So, she was basically stuck.

Fuck.

It was a quarter past midnight. Goodness, she felt like complete shit doing this to Jacob at this time. There wasn't an emergency that warranted this visit. She should have called in, preferably the following morning. Texted him. Hell, even email him.

Leah ended up ringing the doorbell because there was no point in hiding. She stood up tall when she heard her partner on the other side of the door, opening the door without even asking who was there. He must have known it was her. Leah was talking herself into just walking away when the door opened, revealing a very confused and slightly disorientated Jacob Black.

"Leah?"

Leah froze. She had an entire speech prepared, but as fully expected, her mind couldn't find it. It was supposed to be an apology. She finally looked up at her partner and shrugged. At this entire situation, at the fact that Jacob was standing in front of her, with an arm hanging off the top of his door (a feat accomplished because of his height), dressed in only a white, worn t-shirt and basketball shorts. It was bizarre seeing him so dressed down. It was a good look on him.

Leah finally got her act together said in a leveled voice, "I'm sorry."

Jacob's face contorted in confusion, and then in understanding, "Did you seriously come all the way here for that?"

Leah wished the carpeted hallway floor would just swallow her up. This was why she didn't do impulsive. Impulsive led to incidents like this. "I'm better at face to face apologies."

"Oh," Jacob said, stretching his arm out as he yawned. "Well, yeah, don't even worry about it. You didn't even have to apologize—"

"I should, and I did. So, I'm sorry. Again," Leah stressed, wishing Jacob would just let her be. Goodness, she wanted another beer. Or wine. She wasn't picky. "I know you were only trying to help, but of course, I—"

"Well, okay," Leah quietly replied, and this was where the true awkwardness settled in. Because she didn't have anywhere else to say. She spent twenty dollars (plus tip) just to apologize and nothing else. She needed a bed right now. "I guess I'm gonna go..."

Jacob eyed his partner from head to toe. "How did you get here?"

Leah narrowed her eyes, taken aback by the question. "Why?"

"How many drinks you had?"

"I didn't—" Leah brought a hand to her forehead and groaned. That damn migraine was coming back. "I just came from a bar. Had a few drinks. Didn't drive here, thank you. I'm not that fucking stupid. Took an Uber."

Jacob sighed in relief. "Stay until the morning," he offered, motioning his partner to come inside his apartment. He fought back another yawn. "It's getting late."

It was an enticing offer; Leah would like to lay down on something besides the back seat of a cab, but she shook her head. "I'll be fine."

"Leah."

She huffed, crossing her arms. She was fine, she was convinced, a little tired and a little woozy, but she could last for another hour. Just have the cab drop her off at her apartment— she couldn't go to her mother's. Sue would only ask too many questions.

Leah considered just ignoring her partner and walking away. She could wait for the new cab downstairs in the lobby. But Jacob, as she would forever remember, was a persistent asshole, and she knew she wouldn't hear the end of it for a while.

"Fine."

Leah passed out the moment she hit the mattress, only vaguely remembering Jacob mentioning about him sleeping in the living room because his sister's artwork took over the guest room.

Sometime later, Leah woke up to the sound of shuffling and footsteps. On reflex, she reached out for her gun on the stand. She paused when she realized just who was moving around feet away from her. "Jacob...?"

"Hey."

Leah rubbed her eyes and sat up, leaning on her elbows. She saw Jacob, dressed as if he was going to the gym, removing a shoebox from the top shelf of his closet. "Where are you going?"

"Be back in a couple of hours," Jacob whispered. He opened the box, retrieved something Leah couldn't decipher in the dark and returned the box to its rightful place.

Leah blinked. "Jacob—"

Jacob quickly pocketed the object, searching around the room as if to check that he had everything. "Going out on a run."

Leah glanced at the digital clock, sitting on the bedside stand. "Three-ten in the morning?"

"No one's up," Jacob whispered. "Hey, I'll be back in a couple. Go back to sleep."

Leah woke at seven in the morning.

For the next few minutes, she remained on the unnaturally comfortable bed, wanting nothing more but to stay in the unusually comfortable bed for the rest of the day, just sleeping off the headache and enjoying the warm sun rays coming through the half-rolled up blinds.

But then she remembered that she wasn't in her bed. Or at her apartment or her mother's. She quickly sat up and looked around. She was at Jacob's— ah, the memories were finally flooding her mind. The trip to the bar. The feelings of frustration and anger. The Uber ride. The conversation in the hallway outside of her partner's apartment…

Leah retrieved her phone and checked out her reflection through the darkened screen. Well, she didn't look too bad.

She then turned on the now fully-charged device. Two missed calls from her mother. Several texts from Aisha. One from Seth and another from Emily—none seemed too alarming. She could reach out to them, except Emily, later. When her head wasn't throbbing, and her limbs decided to function fully.

"Okay," Leah whispered to herself. She needed to get up. Tossing her phone to the side, she literally crawled out of bed. She stood up straight, stretching out her arms, letting out the last her yawns (before inconspicuously sniffing under her arms. Just in case. She was fine), and walked out the room.

She stopped in her tracks when she caught sight of Jacob, sprawled across his living room couch, literally dead to the world, hugging a random couch pillow. If she were any other person, she would have taken a photo (especially with that drool at the edge of his mouth) and send it to Embry.

But she was better than that, she told herself. After all, Jacob had done a favor for her.

Oh right.

Leah looked around with hopes of figuring out how to thank the man. Money wouldn't do it; even if she managed to sneak it into his wallet, he would do the same once they were at work. Food, she thought. That man and his food. She would make some breakfast, she decided. Breakfast made everyone happy and considered her poor excuse of a dinner (and lunch and breakfast) from yesterday, it was much needed… for her stomach and her mind.

By no means was Leah was a four-star chef, but she truly enjoyed cooking. But lately, she hadn't had the time to make anything elaborate. She couldn't remember the last time she went food shopping or even thought about making something besides pasta. She had eaten more in the past several months than she had in the past couple of years—thank goodness, Jacob being Jacob, refused to let her pay anything but tip half the time or else her funds would have truly suffered.

"You made me some breakfast?" Jacob said, between yawns, stretching out his arms. He gave Leah a lopsided grin before dropping his arms and deeply inhaling the scent of the food. "Damn, I should have you stay over more often."

Leah snorted as she poured some pancake batter into the sizzling pan. She was almost done; the entire pack of bacon was made. So were the scrambled eggs and her attempt at hash browns (she might have almost burned them) and the freshly-cut bowl of mangoes and pineapples. Once she was done with the pancakes, her job was done.

"Watch it, Black," she warned, pointing a spatula at her partner, ready to swat at him at any moment. "I'm still married."

"Don't I know it," Jacob replied with a wink, walking further into his small kitchen. "I'm glad to see you in better spirits," he said, stopping to lean over the stove. He inhaled again and glanced at his partner. "You didn't have to do this."

"I have to pay you back for your hospitality somehow, and something tells me you won't accept money."

"You know me all too well," Jacob laughed, and then, "How's your head?"

Leah sighed. It was still there, but she had managed to ignore it since getting out of her bed. And now, it was returning at full force. "Still pissing me off."

"Took the Advil?"

"What I need is some Valium."

"Damn, that bad?" Jacob headed to the fridge to pull out an unopened Gatorade. He poured some of the sports drink into a glass and handed it to his partner. It apparently did wonders for hangovers. "How many drinks did you have?"

"Three beers," Leah replied carefully, pouring some pancake batter into the sizzling pan. She didn't want her partner to think she was a drunk. She wasn't. It just had been one of those nights. "But I was also living off coffee, two Red Bulls, and a half of a bagel." She gave Jacob a pointed look, and then, "By the way, you have some twigs tangled in your hair."

"What?" He ran a hand through his short hair and seemed surprised as he pulled out some twigs. "I thought I washed them out..."

"Where did you go, anyway?"

"Huh?" Jacob asked, distracted as he pulled out another twig.

"Your three am run."

"Ah, right," Jacob said with a sheepish expression on his face. "Sag Valley."

"The Forest Preserve?" Leah asked in disbelief. Palos Sag-Valley Forest Preserve. That was located outside of Chicago; probably an hour or so ride from the city. Not a place you run to in the middle of the night. "You traveled all the way to Palos Park?"

"It's easier on four legs. Wasn't a far trip at all. Would've gotten their faster if Embry—" He picked up a handful of bacon, shoved it in his mouth, and swallowed it down. He looked so happy. "Oh god," he moaned. "Bacon. I love bacon."

Leah eyed her partner, slightly puzzled. He was being so nonchalant about everything. It was amazing. It was as if he hadn't taken the time to realize just what he was talking about. Was it really the work of an entire pack of bacon? Leah would find that unbelievable. The meat was nothing special. Just another generic brand off the shelves in Jewel.

"You go on a run every morning?" Leah asked.

"Every few days," Jacob said, reaching out for some more bacon, but Leah slapped his hand away. He literally pouted. "It depends on everyone's schedule. But always on a full moon."

"Never by yourself?"

"It's more enjoyable with the others," Jacob replied, staring at the food, all moony-eyed as if this was the first time he had seen breakfast food. "No, but seriously, can you do this for me every morning?"

"Shove it," Leah said, sticking a tongue out at Jacob, and then, "I want to apologize for last night. I don't know what came over me. I don't get drunk. At least, not often."

Jacob reached out and placed a hand on Leah's shoulder. "It was just one of those nights."

"Yeah." Leah sighed. "I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing." Jacob squeezed his partner's shoulder. "Seriously."

"I think my problem is that I don't adjust well to change," Leah said as she dug into her pancakes. They were both sitting at the small kitchen table located next to the kitchen doorway. "I've been used to being with someone, coming home to someone, being married that the thought of starting over is holding me back."

Jacob washed down his food with orange juice. "When did you come to this realization?"

Leah shoved the piece of carb-filled goodness into her mouth. (all while she was supposed to be on a diet. Supposed to). She made a satisfied noise, then answered the question, "After my second beer."

"Hey, change can be a good thing."

"I know that. My mind knows that," Leah said, aggressively cutting off another piece. She reached out for the maple syrup and poured it until her mind told her to slow the hell down. "But I have to accept that, and it fucking sucks."

"No one said it was going to be easy," Jacob said, chuckling as Leah tried to push the syrup as far away from her as possible. "You're one of the strongest people I know, Leah. You'll get through this."

"Thanks," Leah said with a genuine smile. It was nice to hear those words, and then, "Did you know Jenks used to practice in matrimony law?"

Jacob raised an eyebrow, let out a low chuckle, and asked, "Why the hell did he leave?"

"He was sick and tired of dealing with bickering sides, especially when children were involved," Leah said, feeling like was replacing Embry as the department gossiper. "Though I'm not sure switching to criminal made much of a difference."

"He's planning on retiring soon."

"Yeah, I know," Leah said, staring at her half-eaten pancakes. "It'll be like an end of an era."

"I don't think he's going to do it, though," Jacob said. "He's like Paul. Complains his head off but can't get enough of the work." He snorted. "Hah, Jenks as a divorce lawyer..."

"I'm going to talk to one," Leah said, not believing she made the decision. Apparently, spending late nights at the bar and crashing at a partner's place made one question their priorities. "Jenks gave some referrals. Claims he can give me a friends-only discount."

Jacob seemed relieved. "When are you going to start... with everything?"

"Soon," Leah said, and she was going to stick to it this time. There was no point stalling the inevitable. "I figure that it won't matter whether Sam is here or not. The proceedings are going to take forever anyway, and I highly doubt Sam's going to be MIA well into next year. One would hope... With the way things are going..."

"Hey, try to be optimistic, will you?"

"Of course," Leah said, rolling her eyes good-naturedly, and then asked, "How does it feel? To go on a run in the dead of night?"

"Free," Jacob breathed, relaxing in his chair. "Doesn't matter the temperature. There's nothing like running on all fours through the forest. Especially during the off-season when you know, there aren't going to be many campers."

Leah wasn't much of a nature-lover, but she supposed she could see the serenity of it. "This is the off-season?"

"Not really," Jacob admitted. "But we're shape-shifters, not werewolves, half-man, half-wolf— or whatever Hollywood depicts. No one would bat an eye, just thinking we're a pack of wolves."

"Which you are, technically."

Jacob gave Leah a warm smile; it reached his eyes for the first time in weeks. "Yeah, we are."