Thursday 11:04 am

3rd Precinct Conference Room

As they left the conference room, Detective Ann Hastings looked at Beckett, and noticed her slightly smudged eye makeup. She paused on the way out of the 3rd precinct, pointing to the Ladies Room. "You might want to freshen up a bit, Detective Beckett."

Beckett nodded and entered the restroom. Hastings cooled her heels in the hallway, reflecting on the woman Captain Gates had asked her to transport 'Anywhere she wants'. Beckett had been a hero of hers since she'd joined the force; partially because of their similar histories, partially due to the way she'd been treated by Beckett during their investigation into her vigilante history. Her main reasons for admiring Beckett, though, were her bad ass reputation and her incredible success as a lead homicide detective. It had been an unvoiced dream of the newly promoted detective 3rd grade to put in her two years in narcotics, and then transfer onto Beckett's team. Of course, probably half the newly minted detectives on the force felt the same way. For her hero to go through what she'd had to endure over the past two days Hastings found appalling.

Beckett emerged from the restroom. To Hastings' surprise, Beckett hadn't fixed her eye make-up, but had washed it all off. They swung through the precinct's front doors. Adding to the glare of the bright sunlight were half a dozen Television cameras. The reporters were four and five deep surrounding the front steps, yelling questions at 'Detective Beckett' and 'Nikki Heat'. Beckett ducked her head and shielded her face as Hastings fought through the reporters to the car. They both got in and Hastings started it up and swung out into traffic.

"Where to, Detective Beckett?"

"Mount Sinai, please, Ann."

Hastings was pleased that Beckett had remembered her first name, but disappointed that their destination was only five minutes away. As she swung through the traffic and turned on Lexington Avenue, she commented, "You know, Detective Beckett, you look better with no make-up than any of the rest of us do with ours on."

Beckett gave her an indecipherable look, then returned to staring out the windshield. After a couple of minutes of silence, Beckett announced flatly, "Always is a lie."

Hastings wasn't sure she'd heard her correctly, because it made no sense to her. "Excuse me, Detective?"

Instead of repeating herself, Beckett asked, "Are you still with that reporter, Ann? What was his name? Paul Whitaker?"

Hastings was doubly pleased that Beckett wanted to talk, and had remembered her boyfriend's name. She turned on to 40th. "Yes, Paul and I are still together. We're really looking forward to getting married next month."

As soon as it came out of her mouth, Hastings realized her mistake. She was mortified. That had to be the most insensitive thing she'd ever said in her life. She could feel her blood flush her face. She probably couldn't have found anything more hurtful to say to Beckett if she'd taken a class. She glanced at Beckett out of the corner of her eye, not knowing what to expect.

Beckett was still staring straight out the windshield, nodding her head. She asked, "When do you get off work today, Detective?"

"I'm scheduled until four, ma'am, but I'm happy to work longer if I can help." Hastings pulled into a 'Tow Away Zone' fifty feet from the front doors of the hospital. "Would you like me to wait here for you?"

Beckett was still nodding, still staring straight ahead. "Alright, Ann. Here's what I want you to do. This is a direct order from a superior. I want you to go find Paul wherever he is. If he's in a meeting or press conference, pull him out. If he objects, arrest him for 'Resisting'. Once he's out, I want you to give him a great big kiss. Tell him you love him. Hug …" Beckett's breath caught, and she was quiet for a second. Two seconds. Three seconds."Hug him like there's no tomorrow."

Beckett turned to look at Hastings, and Ann gasped. Hastings had consoled family members after traffic fatalities and OD's. She'd helped victims of rape immediately after the crime. She couldn't recall ever seeing a pair of eyes filled with so much pain. The anguish appeared bottomless. The thought that she had added an ounce of agony to Beckett's soul with her thoughtless remark horrified her. Her eyes misting, she nodded her head and said, "Yes, ma'am."

Beckett opened the car door, stepped out, and then swung it shut. She bent down and looked back at Ann, resting her forearms in the open car window. She had the ghost of a smile on her face. To Hastings, it was the saddest smile she'd ever seen, the perfect companion for those tortured eyes. "Then Ann, I want you to take Paul back to your place and fuck his brains out. I'll approve the overtime." Beckett straightened up and started for the hospital doors.

A sob escaped Hastings, as sudden and unexpected as a hiccup …. and as unstoppable. She began her well rehearsed mantra when she found herself in tough emotional situations. Stop it, Ann. You're tough. You took down two meth heads single handedly last week. You were first responder to that bus accident on the FDR. Toughen up. She looked through the windshield and spied Beckett. Her idol was shuffling forward, head bent and shoulders bowed, a broken woman. A second sob escaped Hastings, followed immediately by a third. Her misting eyes overflowed, spilling tears down her cheeks. She put the car in gear and pulled blindly out into traffic, narrowly missing a cab. At the intersection, she turned left, away from the precinct and towards the newspaper offices.