She pushes things as far as I do sometimes.
I call her on this, because I know exactly what she did,
Even though she hasn't said anything, because Liv doesn't make it so obvious,
Not like I do.
And she tells me to shut the hell up about it, which she rarely ever says to me,
So I leave it alone,
Except to tell her that I agree with her.
She gives me a sideways look, and then says under her breath that I
Shouldn't tell the captain, 'cause she'll get hell for it,
And I tell her that I won't.
What else are partners for, I ask, and she rolls her eyes before looking at her desk,
But I know she knows what I mean.
I really won't say anything, either.
Not exactly looking to lose her, too.
That would make this life equivalent to a living hell, 'cause
At the moment, she's the one holding me together,
The one that I can lean on.
And it goes both ways, and she knows it, and sometimes, she makes me wonder.
I think I'm rubbing off on her, and that's not exactly a good thing.
My temper, her patience, and everything in between.
She puts up with way more than she should.
Suppose I could cut her some slack about crossing the lines,
Seeing as I tend to do it with every case we get.
But then, it's not like she hasn't done it before, either.
I know what she was aiming for, and that's what helps, because
I'd have wanted the same thing, and I think that maybe,
Mulling over what she's done will give me a break
From thinking about my own faults.