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Ch. 13 – Watch Your Back


Standing as unobtrusively as possible next to the door, I try to wipe the smirk off my stubbly mug. The poor doctors have no idea how Deb is healing as quick is she is. Which is good for us but confusing as hell for them. I think they can take a bit of mystery though, God knows I’ve had enough of it in my life.

“Jimmy,” Debra calls out, “Can you grab the duffel bag in the closet?”

I nod and move towards the closet, nearly getting run over by a nurse with a tray in his hand in the process. I catch him by his arm and he smiles at me, sorta embarrassed. Moving to the side, he goes around me while I continue with my task.

“Ms. Morgan,” the doctor tries for the fifth time this afternoon, “While you have healed extensively, I can’t, in good faith, recommend a discharge so soon after such serious injuries.”

I hear Sweetcheeks sigh and a well of sympathy hits for the doctor.

In five…

Four…

Three…

Two…

One…

“Look,” Deb snaps, “I get you gotta job to do. Well, I have a fucking job to do to. I need out of this place. My brother’s still missing and sitting here on my ass while your staff annoys the shit out of me, is not helping. Just let me go.”

I turn around and jiggle the gym bag. Debra rolls her eyes at me and continues her pose, her casted arm resting across her chest while her other hand grips her hip. She and Buffy both use similar poses to look intimidating.

I’m surprised by how often it actually works. Catching my eye, I see the hatching of a plot. “How about this,” she tries a softer approach waving me over, “This is Detective McAllister. He’s in charge of watching out for me, I’ll be under his care.” Her hand clamps over my left forearm in a silent plea.

I turn my attention to the weaselly looking doctor standing in front of me. He looks up and I give him a hundred watt smile, trying for reassuring and responsible. I think it’ll work.

He sighs and looks down at his chart, scribbling his name across the bottom. “Sign here,” he says handing Deb a pen. He holds the clipboard out for her and she scrawls her name. “I’m going to ask you to come back in a week.” He returns to the clipboard, pulling out a prescription pad and begins writing things on it. “I’m also giving you Norco for the pain, some antibiotics for secondary infection prevention purposes and a salve for the cuts you have sustained.”

He rips off the prescription sheet and starts to hand it to her. Thinking better of it, he hands it me and says, “Detective, I am assured that you will make sure she follows those instructions and you will bring her in if anything happens.” His statement sounding more like a question. I don’t think this guy trusts me. I’d be offended if I really cared.

“Deb’s one of us. She’ll get what she needs,” I say, smiling.

“A nurse will be in with the discharge papers shortly,” he clucks, offering us a curt nod before turning on his heel and walking out of the room.

We’re left alone for the first time this morning and Debra drops to the bed, groaning. “I swear you’d think that I’d just had a heart attack and I’m asking them to let me go have pizza and beer.” I know her standing that long had to hurt. Girl’s got a set on her that’s for sure.

Smirking, I sit down next to her and pat her knee. “They didn’t like it too much after mine, Sweetcheeks. The doc I had was just as confused as yours.”

Her head swings around to me, her eyebrow arcs and she asks, “You, heart attack?”

I shrug. “Yeah, happened a while back. Willow, Buffy and I were tracking down this psycho. Red teleported us out. My ticker said ‘what the fuck?’ and decided to quit for a few minutes.”

“Ouch.” Her free hand squeezes mind. “You’re okay now though?”

“Yep, Will did for me what she did for you. That and Buffy made me quit smoking and work out with her twice a week.” I smooth my hand down my deflated gut. “I’m all svelte now. I work hard to keep this extra ten pounds.” I wiggle my eyebrows at her and she smacks me in the arm with her cast.

As the hit lands, she winces. “Fuck, I told you making me laugh just makes it hurt more.”

Bumping shoulders with her I smile and ask, “But it hurts less?”

“Hell yes. I can actually breathe without wanting to cry.”

“Good,” I say, looking up as a nurse walks in carrying a clipboard. They seem to do that an awful lot. I wonder if it’s part of the interview process, ‘must be able to carry clipboard and medication at the same time’.

She clicks her pen and hands it to Debra, telling her where to sign and initial. As they finish up, an aide brings in her wheelchair and I watch Deb’s eyes narrow at the sight.

The nurse notices it too so she cuts Deb off, “I’ll meet you two down in the lobby with the crutches and further instructions for you, Ms. Morgan.” Her gaze shifts to me and I lean back. “Wheel her out of here, she is not to walk. When you get her to where she’s going, don’t let her do it all alone.”

I resist the urge to salute and nod instead. I forget sometimes that regular people can be scary. After dealing with Buffy and Willow having P.M.S. at the same time, I didn’t think any other woman could set me on edge.

Nurse, I look at her I.D. badge, Bedonski does it just fine. She nods and accepts my nonverbal assurance. She helps Deb into the wheelchair and then says, “I’ll see you two in a few minutes.”

Just as quickly as she came in, she’s gone. I move behind the wheelchair as Debra sits and holds her bag, enjoying the ride. We make it to the bank of elevators and she taps the ‘down’ button. Her head arcs back and I look down at her, offering a small smirk.

“That nurse,” she says, “was she a little scary or was it just me?”

I nod. “Not just you.”

The elevator doors open and she pulls her head forward. “Good to know.”

The ride down is full of people so we keep conversation to minimum. A little girl is with us, holding the hand of her mom. The mom, I notice, looks horrible, puffy eyes, red cheeks.

This is why I hate hospitals. It’s not so much that if I’m in here it means something’s wrong and I’m showing weakness. That I could actually handle. It’s the desperation of the place. Any hospital you go to it’s all the same. Palpable desperation combined with helplessness, regret and fear.

It’s worse than driving north of a hundred-twenty-fifth in Harlem. Least I think so.

The elevator dings and we wait for the mom and her kid to get out before I push us out towards the lobby. True to her word, Nurse Bedonski is waiting for us near the door. As we approach, she asks me, “Do you have your car here?”

“Nope, we’re gonna cab it.”

“Very well.” She holds the crutches out to Debra and I take the bag from Deb’s lap. “Have you used these before dear?”

Debra nods and takes the crutches. Tucking them under her arms, she tries for one-step, but I stop her as I see the pain etched on her face.

I lay a hand on her shoulder and tip my head in the direction of the chair. She takes the hint and sits back down handing me the crutches.

“Nurse, uh, maybe we could take a wheelchair?” I ask. I should have thought this through. Even with Will’s magic-cure-thingy, Sweetcheeks still has to be in pain.

The nurse looks between my charge and me and asks, “I’m going to do this once because you both are policemen. Take the wheelchair and return it when you’re done. We won’t miss one, but make sure it gets back here and you come see me when you return it.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I agree readily. I also get the nagging feeling that she’s not above hunting us down if we don’t.

“Good. Now get out of here and take care of her, Detective McAllister.” Her face breaks into a warm, encouraging smile and all of a sudden, the woman reminds me of my Aunt Jo.

Aunt Josephine scared me too, but boy could she cook a mean lasagna.

Handing Deb back her bag, I nod once to the nurse then push us out into the cold winter weather. As we step out a cab pulls up and I open the door, letting Deb maneuver herself in.

Ducking my head in the open door, I ask, “Pop the trunk?”

The driver shakes his head and I glare, finally reaching for my wallet and flashing my badge. Grudgingly he hits the button and the trunk pops open. Asshole.

I wrangle with the wheelchair a minute trying to get it folded properly and into the back. After a pinched thumb and more cursing than a bar hears on a Friday night, I manage to stuff it in there and get the lid closed. I scramble around to the other side of the cab and hop in. Debra and I shut our doors at the same time and I direct the cabbie on where to go.

“Jimmy,” Deb asks, “where are we going?”

I beam and say, “Home. You get to stay with us until this whole thing wraps up.”

“Us?” Her face scrunches.

“Yeah. I live with Buffy and Willow. You get to spend your healing time with us.”

She pales a little and I laugh. Maybe if I were her I’d have the same reaction. For her troubles, I give her an encouraging pat on the knee.






“Dad!” Dickey’s voice calls out from the front of the house. Curious about what he wants I pick up my namesake and make my way out of the kitchen. I round the corner into the living room and see John Munch standing there talking to my son.

“John, what’s up?” I say, bouncing Eli in my arms.

“Uh,” he starts. It’s then I notice the file clutched in his hands. It’s a large brown file. “I needed to talk to you about that stuff you talked to me about.” He looks over at Dickey and then back to me. “Where’s Kathy and the rest of the kids?”

“Here,” Dickey says, motioning me to give him Eli. “We’ll be in the living room.” He hoists his little brother in his arms and spins away from us.

“Come on in,” I say, smiling. I lead him towards the kitchen and finally answer his questions, “Kathy and the girls went to the mall. Something about it being a girls day since I got out of the station early.”

I open up the fridge and grab a bottle of water. “You want something to drink?”

“Water would be good,” he says taking a seat on a barstool. I toss one at him and grab another one for myself. “I was wondering where you ran off to. Liv said that she let you cut out early until forensics comes back with something.”

I roll my eyes. “Let me, eh?” I snort and pull up a stool next to John. “She about bit my head off. Said I needed to go home, there wasn’t anything that I could do at the station.”

John nods. “She and Buffy were looking at some old cases, nothing too serious.” He opens his bottle and takes a sip, his eyes darting between me and the file that he placed on the counter. “I think they were also going to go down and see if anyone in the lab could give them something on a preliminary basis.” He smiles and shakes his head. “I’m sure Detective Summers can get some gears greased with her wife.”

He winks at me and I can’t help but laugh. “You ever see anything like that?”

“What lesbians?” he deadpans. “All the time. What I haven’t seen is someone like either of them doing the jobs that they are.” He clears his throat and rubs the back of his neck. “Elliot, I did some digging, like you asked.”

“I figured. You wouldn’t be here otherwise. What gives?” I ask. I’ve rarely seen John Munch nervous.

“There’s some things that I’m going to tell you and whether you believe me or not is one thing, but this joint case you guys are working on has me worried,” he admits.

I smirk and say, “I’m a big boy John. I can take it.”

His lips purse and dips his chin. “Fine, but when I’m done telling you, you didn’t get this from me.” He pulls out several files plus the one I left him with this morning. “I did some asking around first. With the clearance needed to access these files, I called in about every favor I had left. There won’t be any more information for a while.”

He sets the biggest in front of me and flips it open. “Around two-thousand-one, the U.S. government set up a secret military installation in the town of Sunnydale, California. I wasn’t able to get much on what went on, but from everything that was pieced together; we figure they were experimenting on college kids.”

He swallows and continues, “There’s a small part of the community that believes in… Elliot I’m telling you, you need to suspend disbelief and just be open to me on this. A small portion of us think that what they were actually doing was experimenting on demons.”

Eh?

Come again?

His hand goes up and he tries to explain more, “The small pocket that believes this also thinks that vampires, witches and werewolves exist too. I’m not one of them, but some stuff in those files can’t really be explained. There are two other files here. One on Buffy and one on Willow. Buffy’s is vastly more interesting because of the medical and training information. Buffy was brought in from the outside by Colonel Riley Finn. Finn was killed in the line of duty almost four years ago by the same guys that came after Buffy here in the city. Buffy’s training reports indicate that she took out teams of highly trained soldiers Elliot. She’s more advanced in different forms of combat than almost any soldier training available.”

My eyebrows go up and he smirks. “Yes, Elliot we are talking about the same five foot nothing detective that’s currently working with your partner. Buffy Summers is dangerous. With a capitol D.”

“What about Willow?” I need to know.

“Besides being one of the smartest girls on the west coast?” he asks nonchalantly. “Because of the source of some of this information I went and talked to a buddy. The buddy’s one of the believers in the occult, owns a few shops in Cleveland and Baltimore that trade in the stuff.”

“And…?” My arms fold across my chest, trying to hide my erratic heartbeat, the conversation I overheard with Buffy and Jimmy ringing loudly in my ears.

“Willow Rosenberg is said to be the most powerful witch in the Western Hemisphere and maybe the world,” he says this as if he’s reading it out of a file. “As my partner would say, the word on the street is this kitten’s got claws.”

“The doctor? Willow?” I ask just to get clarification.

He rubs his chin and nods. “Look, I know it’s a stretch, but if there was an inkling of truth to it, I would believe it from Luca. His family and his people, they know about a lot of stuff. The Kalderash family is one of the oldest Romani tribes.”

“Gypsies?” I roll my eyes.

“Just because it seems farfetched to you or to me doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. You’re the guy who puts his faith in a disapproving father figure that’s like Santa Claus but meaner.” He waggles his finger at me and all I can do is shake my head.

“There’s more, Luca said that before Sunnydale became that big crater, which by the way is a whole different issue that we can discuss later, Willow’s lover was killed. A girl by the name of Tara Maclay.” Looking over to me, I assume he’s checking to see how much of this I’m absorbing. Satisfied by what he sees, he continues, “Around the time that she died, there was a huge storm in the area. The storm caused a mudslide and revealed an old pagan temple. Luca says that Willow caused the storm, caused the unearthing of this temple.”

I snort. “What she’d do, try to avenge her lover by trying to destroy the world?”

“You hear this before?” he asks, a hint of a smile on his face. “That’s exactly what Luca said happened. Buffy and another guy stopped her. Was able to talk some sense into her. It lines up with her getting ferried off to England by a guy named Rupert Giles, and he’s a whole different mess that’s involved with this secret organization that trains little girls in combat…”

“The Watcher’s Council,” I supply, the pieces clicking into place. I’m not saying that I believe in the vampires and witches thing, but there are too many over lapping coincidences in what Munch has unearthed and what I’ve been able to piece together.

“You know about them?” he asks, his eyes large.

“Buffy’s sister is the C.E.O. for the group.” I shrug. “The stuff I found on this Watcher’s group pretty much just said that it deals in antiquities, scholarships and governmental consults.”

“How far back did you go for their business records?” He digs in the folder and pulls out another folder.

“Not far,” I say, the corners of my mouth turning down.

“The Council is dated back to when England first started accepting business applications. Do the math.”

“Okay, but…” I falter and mop my face with my hands. I don’t really know what to make of all this. I mean the pieces all kind of fit, but it doesn’t make any sense. At least not the sort of sense that keeps me out of the nuthouse.

“Look,” John says, “read through what I’ve brought. I’m not sure what to tell you El. The most I can say is that Buffy and her girlfriend are well, and I mean well connected. Be careful and if you can, drop it.” He stands and pats my shoulder. Retreating from the kitchen, he makes his way to the front of the house and I hear the front door open and close.

My head drops into my hands and I rub my temples.

What the hell does this all mean?






I look around the empty precinct and shake my head. It’s me and Olivia with a few Uni’s. Nice way to spend a Wednesday evening. Looking down at my phone, I reread the text message from Will, ‘At the lab running samples, be home later. Love you.’ At least I got a love you and hey, the hours for this job are far better than what she’s had for the past six months.

I sigh and prop my head up with my hand. “Olivia,” I call out. Her head pops up from the stack of reports she was working on and she looks at me with an upturned eyebrow.

“I was wondering if you want to go with me to follow up with Willow on the painting?” I ask.

Not that I don’t like Olivia, I just don’t know what info my Wiccan Wonder will have. But I need the lift. She can drive in the city. I’m lucky if Willow or Jimmy let me ride a bike.

She looks around, a little surprised. “Uh, yeah. Sure,” she says.

I smile and reach behind me for my jacket. “Sweet. You can drive.”

“That’s right, your partner’s babysitting.” She stands and reaches for her own coat and I meet her by her desk.

“He is. The good here is that Deb got released from the hospital today, so he should be at home.” I grin and add, “If he doesn’t have dinner waiting for us when we get there, he’s in trouble.”

Her head tilts to the side for a second. She shakes whatever thought she has off and we head out of the station house. “Buffy,” she starts, “Look, I know it’s none of my business, but what’s up with you, Jimmy and Willow?”

I stop on the steps and look down at her still descending form. Wanting to be clear in my understanding I ask, “More please?”

She looks back up the half flight of steps that separate us and stops. “Well, look. It’s like I love Elliot. We’re a team. I don’t live with him. Why do you live with your partner?”

Oh, okay. That I can answer without wanting to rip out her spine. It really just does piss me off that people automatically assume that two people, male and female, can’t be close without having sex. I start back down the steps and make it all the way out to the car before answering.

“Let me guess, you think it’s strange?” I raise an eyebrow at her as she unlocks the sedan and I get in. “Why can’t people be close to one another and not be…” I trail off resisting the urge to say what I really want and go with the softer, “intimate. I mean is there some rule out there that I don’t know about?”

She cranks the engine and looks at me. “I, Buffy I didn’t mean to offend you…”

“It’s just that you were curious.” I purse my lips and try to understand where she’s coming from. “Ya know, here’s the thing. I know Jimmy and I have chemistry. We’re a great team. It’s what makes good partners. You and Elliot are the same way. There’s chemistry there. You feed off one another, but you aren’t hopping in the sack with him. Are you?” I raise my eyebrows in her direction and she flushes. I smirk. “You haven’t, but you’ve thought about it?”

Her eyes go back to the road as we travel south towards the O.C.M.E. offices. “It’s the same here. Well, sort of. I’ve never really put much thought into getting pelvic with Jimmy. Hugging, we do that all the time. He’s even a good cuddler. I just don’t think of him that way.”

“So then you guys are just really close?” she ventures.

“Yeah, we are. He was the first friend I made when I came to the city. He’s the only one that I’ve kept.” I shrug. “He gets things that even Will doesn’t. He respects the way I do things without question or reservation. He’s smart, kind, funny and sweet.”

She smirks this time and says, “Sounds like a catch, but why do you guys live together?”

I grin. “It made tons more sense. Will and I wanted to be back in Manhattan.” She looks at me and I know a better explanation is needed. “We lived next door to each other in Brooklyn. We both sold our houses and bought the condo.” Her eyebrow is raised, still questioning. I wave a hand at her and try again, “Will made this chart with numbers about our finances. It boiled down to money.”

A light bulb seems to go off and she nods.

Finally!

I retort to her comment, hoping that this lies to rest my living arrangements. Which I don’t get, ‘cause it’s none of her damn business anyhow, but whatever… “He is a catch. I’m just not in love with him. I love Willow. It’s the same for her. She feels the same way I do about Jimmy. She respects our bond and doesn’t question it.”

Olivia looks at me for a second before the light we’re stopped at turns green and she nods. “I…think…I get that.”

“Good,” is all I offer as the car lapses into silence. The rest of the trek down to see Will is pretty silent and I’m happy Olivia didn’t press it.

The M.E.’s office is on the corner of first and thirtieth and as we approach, I realize that the winter weather has done nothing to make the place look even remotely fun. It’s a tall, grey brick building that’s got an outside to match the insides. The fact that Will is working where we met Nekko is just kinda weird, but she’s happy.

We’re happy with her here. We're actually talking again, too. Like really talking. She gets home at decent hours and is guaranteed two days off in a row that we can have together. It’s a vast improvement than her working at the hospital and clinic.

The other great thing is that as I walk in the receptionist smiles at me and waves me and Olivia through. They know me enough that I can just walk in. No need to deal with cranky nurses and their attitude.

I lead Olivia up three flights of stairs and down one of the monotone painted hallways to my Willow’s office. Stepping inside, I see her secretary’s packed up for the night, but her office light is on. I don’t bother knocking and peek my head in. Will looks up from her computer and her face breaks into a wide smile.

Pushing the door open, I walk in and around to her side of the desk to peck her on the cheek but she turns her head capturing my lips. I lean down and into the unexpected, but totally welcome embrace as my right hand goes to the edge of the desk for support. Willow’s tongue teases my lips apart and I allow her entrance as I lose my sense of place.

It’s only the loud cough from someone in the office that breaks up apart. I break away and pretend to be mildly ashamed. By the smirk Olivia is wearing, she isn’t buying it. A glance at my lover and I see her lips are pressed together. Her face is beat red. I give her hand a squeeze and wink. She lets out the breath she was holding and relaxes a little.

“Uh…,” Will stammers, “I…uhm…sorry?”

And hey look at that, no embarrassing babble. Wonder of wonders.

Sighing, I back away and shake my head at the half formed pout on my lover’s lips. “So, doc, how’s the day?” Olivia smirks.

My redhead shrugs and says, “Got better a few minutes ago.” Her embarrassment a moment ago forgotten as she wiggles her eyebrows at me and I flush to match the blush she was sporting a second ago. She’s in trouble when we get home.

“Find anything, Will?” I ask.

She nods. “I’m waiting on two more tests before I release any official findings but the blood is from seven different sources.” She flips through a few papers on her desk and plucks the one she’s looking for from a small stack. “Dexter’s, Debra’s, Siobhan’s and four others that I can’t place. We don’t have their information on file to bump it against anything.”

“CODIS? NCIC? VICAP?” I supply.

“We have them being run against all known databases that house genetic information,” she says, frowning.

“So then we know that the missing people in Miami are here,” Olivia says, trying to fill in the missing pieces. “We know at least one of them is alive. My intuition says that Dexter and this Siobhan are still alive. If they weren’t we would have found those bodies already.”

I sink down into the chair opposite Willow, right next to Olivia. “Yeah,” I groan. “At least we hope.”

“Buffy,” Will starts, softly, “Maybe you should have the two federal agents sweep...”

“No.” My eyes snap in her direction and I shake my head fiercely. “They aren’t going to find anything.”

“Baby,” she tries, “The body count here is way past anything we’ve dealt with in a long time.”

I know she’s trying to be helpful, but I really don’t want those slayers poking their noses in my city. “No, Will.”

She sighs and runs her hand through her hair.

“Do you have anything else?” I ask, trying to change the topic.

She shakes her head and I slump further in my chair. Shit.

“Any trace evidence that could give us a location or kind of location?” Olivia asks.

“Not enough to go on.” Willow shuffles some papers off to the side and looks between the two of us. “I think the rest of the reports should be in tomorrow.”

Well this just adds to a whole bunch of me sitting around with my thumb up my ass. I look between Olivia and Willow.

Coming to a decision, I stand and say, “Olivia come on. Will, I’ll see you at home in a while?”

My lover nods. I turn and make my way out of her office. I’m not sure how much good it’s going to do, but I may as well take Olivia to check in with some C.I.’s. See if they’ve heard anything.

It’s going to be a long night. That much I can be sure of.

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