ACT IV

I, Elisa Maza, had adjustment issues with this rare transition from night to day shift.

Diurnal humans aren't designed to burn the candle at both ends and stay awake much longer after sunset. Medical studies of evening workers proved they're more susceptible to diseases, sleep deprivation, social dysfunction and stress.

Apparently, I was a freak of nature. Mom said as a baby I slept full days, yet stayed awake throughout the evenings. As a teenager I read and stargazed from dusk 'til dawn. As a college student I registered for mostly evening classes. While every Academy graduate loathed the concept of night shift, as a rookie I requested it.

Even though the post-brunch hours were inundated with paperwork, I still rounded off my case load. Jason approached me at check-out to turn in our radios.

"I'm game to do this tomorrow," he said with a wry grin.

"We're still paired on the duty roster." I stood akimbo. He nodded as we parted ways. I wasn't going to forget my extended family's dusk awakening. I climbed the steep stairway into the breezy outdoors of the tower balcony.

Frozen-in-stone Angela, Broadway, Brooklyn, my favorite pooch Bronx, Goliath, Hudson, and Lexington were aligned on the parapet. The sun dove completely into the horizon. Their stony skin cracked and sectionalized. They roared, stretched their powerful bodies and burst out of the shells, awake and badass!

"I never get tired of that! Good as new, I see?" I asked Brooklyn while he removed his bandage.

"Yep, we call it 'The Concrete Cure-All.'" Brooklyn was a comedian. One time he built a cardboard piping-tin foil frame, poked through it, faked pain before changing into stone, and became Brooklyn in Carbonite. "What's up?"

"Well, my new partner and I had some excitement today," I answered while they hopped off the perch.

"New partner? Where's Matt?" Broadway sounded disappointed.

"I'll brief you after Fearless Leader and I privately converse," I assured.

The clan chattered, with Angela hoping I brought coffee. While they entered, I pulled Goliath away from their acute hearing.

The aptly named Goliath was their leader who's saved my dimpled butt from danger more times than I can count. As friends, our social interactions were challenging. However, in the secluded library next door we dined, we conversed and he recited poetry to me.

"It is my understanding Fearless Leader is a sarcastic moniker," Goliath mentioned with a quizzical expression.

"Is it? I meant you're literally a leader without fear. No offense intended," I clarified.

"None taken. I am, how is it phrased, just pulling your leg." he said through a chuckle.

"Not to spoil this merriment," I began as our laughing petered out. "I have unpleasant news you alone should relay to the clan."

I told him about A.D.A Margot Yale's belief that Goliath and I canoodled, passengers' phone videos and Matt and I possibly exposing the clan.

"Do what is for the best. We anticipated this. I assure you nothing but support." Goliath reacted.

"Goliath, you're unequivocally awesome," I complimented. "But that idiot thought you were gonna crush my skull. I wonder why she randomly commented like that. "

"I...regret that is how she saw it. I simply motioned to stroke your hair." Big Guy harrumphed and hung his head, ashamedly?

"Oh, that's so flattering and sweet." I maneuvered his fingers to comb locks above my right ear.

"Elisa, you need not…" Goliath stumbled back a skoche.

"Hush, kneel down." I let him continue while he knelt.

"Oh my, it's quite soft," he majestically analyzed. A hand that had gashed metal and stone massaged my tresses. Goliath most certainly wasn't Lennie Small.

In reciprocation, I pressed against his torso and ran my fingers thru his long, thick hair. Goliath's hand tenderly rested on my hair, his breath on my neck, his intoxicating lavender musk, his hypnotic heartbeat...

"Whoa, okay, I need...I need everyone to know what else happened today." I sprung from his light grasp, straightened my jacket and fixed my hair. While Goliath clumsily stood up, we heard a commotion.

Brooklyn: "They're coming back in!"

Broadway: "Move! Move!"

Lexington: "Watch it, ya big lummox!"

Goliath and I glanced at each other during their shuffling and crashing. Once we re-entered, Broadway and Brooklyn played Grand Theft Auto V. Hudson read Flowers for Algernon. Lex frantically tapped his iPad. Angela whistled while fumbling with macramé. Bronx chomped on a play-toy.

"Gather around, kids..." I sat at the stairway base, crossed my legs and recounted my day about Conover, our high-speed chase of robbers, how the stolen merchandise was a potent disinfectant called DI-7, and how Matt currently questioned David Xanatos. "…and that's the story. You should have seen Jason in action! This guy could shoot a fly out from between its wings."

"You seem quite impressed with your new partner," Goliath noticed.

"Well, I mean he's a good cop, that's all, and it's temporary." I slumped at that particular status.

"Of course." And then his smile disappeared with saying that. What was with him?

"These double shifts, I got to get some sleep." I stood up, massaged my shoulder, and yawned. "But I'm a little worried that whoever planned this heist might try again tonight."

"Don't worry, Elisa. We'll keep an eye on the stuff," Broadway assured me with his hand on mine.

Last year Broadway discharged my gun, accidentally striking me. I held no grudge during or after the healing process. But the soulful warrior retained emotional scars from the incident and volunteered to be my second best protector.

"Our computer says Xanatos stores DI-7 in two places: the East River warehouse the thieves hit today and a chemical plant on the Upper West Side." I listed.

"Somehow, I doubt Xanatos is a true victim in this," Goliath surmised. "But we will split up and keep watch over both locations."

"Later, guys, I've got a date with a pillow," I concluded rather pathetically. Luckily they didn't get the context.

"Come, we have work to do," Goliath said to them as they rushed back outdoors.

"Wait, Lex!" I called out, screeching him to a halt. "I need to adjust my sleep for day shift. Just text me and I'll read 'em in the morning."

"Will do, Elisa. Just call me 'Lexington, The Texting One,'" the little bald genius said. He was able to rig an iPad to get unlimited everything and without it needing a charge.

Surprisingly quiet were Angela and Hudson. Since our Avalon quest I'd become her surrogate aunt, a female confidant, rather than her pops, a dog and four more males. Hudson, a wise soldier worthy of my respect, reminded me of Grandpa whenever he told stories of ancient Scotland.

Rather than unsafely drive, I hailed a cab to nap. Except, my mind raced back to the day's events with Jason Conover, who was amiable, charming, intelligent, esoteric, anguished, and normal. I no longer crushed or lusted. I fell head over heels in love with my temporary partner.

The cabbie woke me at my building. The distance to my spacious, rent-controlled domicile seemed like a trek toward Mordor, but I made it.

"Hi, Cagney. Yes, I'm sure you're hungry," I said to my immediately underfoot cat. I dumped food into his bowl, locked up my gun and removed all of my outer clothes. My hard line phone had three voicemails.

"Haven't seen any emails from you and I got a little worried. I hope you call. Love you." That was Mom.

"Daddy's worried about you. Call or text when you have time." That was Beth.

My family was concerned for me more than ever even though I was safe more than ever.

Message three, "It's Jason Conover. My first day with you was amazing. I look forward to the rest of the week."

I was in my underwear during that playback but it wasn't awkward. A hot shower to clean up would only have kept me awake and the cold shower I needed was none the wiser option. I headed straight to the bedroom, slipped on a Mets tee, sprawled across the inviting mattress and rested on the cool, soft pillow.

Sleeping alone, not for long.

END ACT IV