I sent him a text at the hospital that lunch went well, that I was looking forward to our sailing lesson tomorrow, and nothing else. He's probably at home now, reviewing gene therapy studies for his next project. His eyes light up when he talks about the research. I could call or just show up at his apartment. No, that's the exact wrong thing to do at least for me. I know what will happen, and it can't. I stop the torture by fleeing the temptation. Works with the booze.
Oh, of course. I have guests. Tonight both Nightingale and Liberty sit at the computer. Perfect. We're still tracking down the explosives with little success. That success being the criminals in town are quaking in their boots after getting paid a visit or ass-beating from the Triumvirate. Both heroes look my way as I walk down. Since the backrub debacle Nightingale and I have been quietly working side-by-side with no mention of anything not pertaining to the work. I just adore an awkward office environment.
Liberty pivots around first, mouth open in surprise, while her companion spins back the way he was, away from me. Not a happy camper. "There you are," she says, standing. "We were worried. Are you okay?"
"Why?" I ask.
"Why do you think? We heard what happened."
Of course they did. "How?"
"We have connections," Nightingale says with a hint of anger.
"Did you really Taser a guy in the balls?" Liberty asks with a mischievous smile.
"Just the leg and shoulder."
"Too bad." She scans me like an MRI machine. "Well, you look intact. How are you feeling?"
"Fine," I say, scanning her too. Wish I could see her eyes.
"It's always a trip, huh? Getting shot at?"
"If you say so."
Liberty's mouth purses. "Fine, don't give us details." She glances at her colleague. "See what you can get out of her. I'm going on patrol." She spins on her heel and walks away.
"Ciao," I say.
"Ciao," she says before lifting off the ground and flying down the passage.
A small smile crosses my face, but I drop it before gazing at Nightingale, who is still blanking me. I sit in the spare chair next to him. "What are we working on tonight?"
"Nothing," he says. "Reviewing files."
"Any news on the explosives? We know they haven't been sold in Galilee so maybe we expand to Pacific City or--"
"We've hit a wall," he says, voice hard. "The government's on it."
"So, we're giving up? What if--"
He turns to me. "We're you even going to tell m--us about the shoot-out?"
My mouth snaps shut. "Why? I'm fine. Shit happens."
"You were shot at. You risked your life for nothing. What were you thinking?"
"That a dangerous man was getting away, and that I could stop him."
"It was idiotic," he says. "You could have been killed. Don't you care?"
"I…" I can't seem to find the right words. "I reacted. I did what I had to."
"That's the point. You don't have to. White Night had the situation well under control."
"Not from where I was sitting. In my bullet riddled car, I might add. You weren't there. The man who shot at me was getting away. I could stop him. I did. You of all people should know what that's like. So unless you're hanging up your cape: pot, kettle, black your Lordship."
This shuts him up. He sits there breathing heavily and staring. After a few seconds, he hangs his head and says, "I just don't want anything to happen to you. You're…a friend." He clears his throat and returns to Doris. "I-I assume you won't be that foolhardy again. There are too many people who depend on you. Employees, family, whatnot. You had an ordeal today. You must still be in shock. You should speak to someone."
"I'll be fine. It wasn't like the KitKat incident. I wasn't the target."
"Still. There must be someone more…suitable for you to talk to. A person you're more at ease with."
"I'm not calling anyone. There's no need. Look, stop worrying. I'm really okay. What I need right now is to work." I turn to the computer screen. "So, if they didn't sell the explosives, then we're looking for a terrorist group or possibly a villain. There are a few villains we couldn't find in the city, but maybe it wasn't one of our regulars. Or the locations of the bases were incidental. Galilee won't be the target. The base had the laxest security or an inside man."
"Everyone was cleared. We've hit a wall. We really have done all we can. It's time to move on."
"So we're just giving up?"
"We'll keep our ears to the ground and eyes open. Nothing else to do."
"I don't like giving up," I say.