+18 eps. 17-21 - After a hard case that takes the team to DC in order to catch a blackhat and prevent a bombing, all hell breaks loose on their return to Boston , when the ghost of the Libra killer comes back to torture Brock seven years after the m...
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They were all back at the field office in less than an hour. The rest of the staff was already gone until Monday, but Gillian noticed Cooper was still in her office. She would've liked to take a break, just five or ten minutes alone, have a coffee, get a chance to digest all the things still stirring inside her after talking to her father. Plain to see that would have to wait.
So she left the team to settle and get ready for the work they had ahead, and went to knock on Cooper's door.
"Come in, Gillian, have a seat," the other woman said.
She shook her head, flashing a tight smile, and stood near the door. "It's okay, ma'am, thanks. I just wanted to apologize about what happened with the locals"
Cooper looked up at her, arching her eyebrows as if asking what she was talking about. "No need to apologize for doing your job, Gillian."
"I... I just wouldn't want my actions to cause you any trouble. I know I went a little out of line, threatening to arrest them and all that."
"Sometimes the PD needs to be reminded of their limits, and no-one here knows it better than you." She was discreet enough not to openly speak about King Gillian, but they both knew that was what she meant.
Gillian nodded with a quick grimace. "Thanks for your support, ma'am."
"Are you and your team staying?"
"Yeah, we need to check the security feeds, and the techs will try to follow the transfer and crack the malware code."
"Okay. I'm leaving in ten, but call me if anything comes up, or if you identify whoever did this."
"Of course."
Cooper held her eyes for a moment, her face the usual hardened mask. Her voice was cold and dry as always. "Let them working and take a break, Gillian. Go have dinner with your son, or go with Coleman for a drink, whatever, and come back later. You need a quiet while."
She didn't wait for Gillian's answer and looked down back at her computer. Gillian managed a nod and walked out.
She found Aldana coming from the restrooms. "We'll have all set in ten minutes. And we already ordered Chinese."
"Fine. Listen, Al, I'm going to see Russell and call Connor. Please have Brandon or Kurt fix our phones asap."
"They're already gutting them."
"Good. I'll be right back."
"Don't worry, take your time."
Gillian forced a quick smile and went to the elevators, but didn't stop. Instead, she went on to the stairs. No point in waiting to go down only one floor.
She had hardly turned the bend of the stairs when the elevator jingled open at the fifth floor. Brock stepped out of it with a bunch of papers in his hand and headed to Cooper's office.
He'd pretended to be finishing his paperwork over the last hour, when actually he had everything already complete and filed away. But he couldn't openly admit he was waiting for Gillian and her team to come back. Not to Russell. Brock was very aware of why he'd stayed in the office, and had a handful of perfectly logical reasons to justify his concern. He wasn't sure why he was waiting for her, though. She wouldn't likely be in the mood for talking to him, the least about this coming across the person who had replaced her in the PD, and her short but harsh exchange with her father. But Brock had the feeling that just seeing her would be enough to know if she was okay.
There could be a lot of things he would never even acknowledge about Gillian, but by now, he'd come to terms a little with his caring about her. So he just wanted to see if she was fine. Because he'd been right there with her when it all came down with her father. So his concern was only natural.
...Right?
He saw the team getting ready to work, traded a nod with Hank when the biochemist came out—the only one leaving—and went to Cooper's office to give her that schedule he'd mentioned to her earlier. He could've emailed it to her. But he needed a reason to show up at the fifth floor.
On his way back to the elevators he slowed down his strides and looked at the conference room again. And he swallowed a curse. Gillian wasn't anywhere to be seen. He decided to try gambit number seven and went up to their door. The punks ceased their usual banter when they saw him.
"Hi, excuse me, is Coleman here?" he asked, flat tone and blank scowl.
"He's downstairs, at his office, sir," Aldana replied, a little surprised at his question.
"Oh, okay. Thanks."
The team watched him stride away.
"He just walked by Russell's office and he didn't see him?" said Kurt, trying to make any sense of it.
Tanya and Aldana rolled their eyes, while Ron and Fred traded an ironic glance.
Back to the fourth floor, Brock allowed himself a sigh. Well, he would still see Gillian next night, because he had to take Andrea to her place for her son's birthday. Maybe then... What, Brockner? Maybe then you guys can have a beer and some talk like the good friends you are?
He kicked his sarcasm back in place and slowed down as he approached his office. As he walked by Russell's office, Brock spotted the top of Russell's head through the inner window. He was sitting on the loveseat beneath that window, and somebody was there with him. So that was why Gillian wasn't at the fifth floor with her team.
Brock hurried to fetch his things, trying to keep his back to the glass door to Russell's office, not to make them feel observed. On his way out, he got a glimpse of Russell holding Gillian tight, while she kept her face hidden against his neck.
Brock felt a twitch inside. Oh, jealous now, Brockner? He scowled at the elevator button. Jealous of what? Gillian's and Russell's bond? He huffed at himself. However, deep inside he would've liked to expect Gillian would seek him out if she ever needed comfort about her father. He could only offer to listen to her, maybe some words that wouldn't sound like he tried to play parenting on her, but anyway... Brock snorted when his train of thought bumped at a flashing recollection from Orlando's restroom, and derailed into a massive wreck at the always-following memory of that stormy night at his apartment. Only an ear and some wise words, huh, Brockner? Really.
He realized he'd just slammed closed his car door, and huffed again as he started the engine, annoyed at himself. Then he thought that at any other time, any of this would've made him mad at Gillian, blaming her for his sulking. Well, at least you're not blaming her for everything anymore. Aren't you a real grown-up, Brockner.
