+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...
"Am I alone? Is somebody there Beyond these heavy aching feet? ...Something is calling me I feel the gravity of it all." Yoko Kanno, Gravity
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**picture: Boston sunrise
Brock thought Andrea would be disappointed when he told her they were leaving to DC the day after she got to Boston. But Andrea got up early in the best of moods, despite that Russell had brought her back home past one a.m. last night—the official excuse being that Connor's birthday was actually on Sunday, so they waited until midnight to toast to him one last time.
"You really don't mind going back home so soon?" he asked, bringing breakfast to the bar.
"Not at all! You don't get the chance to fly on a private jet every day," she replied, way more awake than he expected. "Oh, and I need your help. Connor's coming too, and he's never been to DC, so I want to show him around. Where can I take him?"
"Gillian's son?"
"Yeah, Dad, Connor."
"Oh..." He took a thoughtful bite at his toast. "I think the Smithsonian is a good place to go. And the Lincoln Memorial, of course."
Andrea huffed. "Museums and statues, Dad? Really?"
"Are you expecting me to suggest any other place for you to take him? I mean, without my direct supervision."
She giggled. "C'mon, Dad! We're only friends!"
"And I hope you stay that way."
Her giggles turned into open laughter. Brock scoffed, shaking his head to hide he was relieved. She hadn't blushed or pretended to be surprised at his suggestion. So chances were there was really nothing going on between his baby girl and Gillian's son.
On their way out, he called Russell to offer him the ride to the airport. But Russell was already on his way, with Gillian and Connor.
"See you there in a while," said Russell, and disconnected. He glanced up at his rearview. Connor had his earphones on, listening to the CD Andrea had given him, and didn't pay them attention. So he shot a peremptory look at Gillian by his side.
She sighed. She knew there was no getting away with it. So she just said it.
"Two anonymous messages with the Libra sign painted in human blood were received over the last month. One at Banks' precinct, the other by a journalist who covered the Libra's spree in town. That's it."
"That's it," he repeated, ironic.
"Yes, Russ, that's all. Taylor is on it, Banks is lending a hand, but they have nothing on the sender."
"So that's why Taylor came over last night. I thought it was weird, that you'd invited him for a family occasion."
"The journalist received the message on Thursday night, while we were arresting Singer. Not like I had a lot of spare time to meet with them since then."
"And what's your part in this, Reg?"
"My part? Nothing! But it's way too personal for Bob, so I wanna be in the loop, in case I can help."
"You're talking about Andrew Lloyd."
"Yep."
"Did you tell Brock?"
"What!? No!"
"You don't think he deserves to know somebody's messing around pretending to be his wife's killer?"
"C'mon, it's not about deserving, Russ! What good can it do to him, finding out about this?"
"So you're gonna keep it from him."
"Of course I will! And you will too, if you give a damn about him."
Russell shook his head. "That's why you were keeping it from me too."
"Yes. And now I want your word. Promise me you won't tell'im."
"You want me to lie to him?"
"I want you to protect him, dammit!"
He stopped at a red light and turned to her with a puzzled frown.
Gillian snorted, annoyed. "The Libra ruined his life, Russ! And he's hardly getting it back after years of grief and regret! Are you gonna take it away from him over two frigging finger paintings? Are you gonna make'im relive the worst time of his life because some weirdo thought this would be a smart prank? Is that your sense of friendship and care?"
Her heated words took Russell completely aback, and only the honks from the cars behind startled him back to focus on the road again.
He drove on with a mild scowl behind his sunglasses. It always took him a while, adjusting to the way Gillian stood for Brock at all times ever since she'd met him again, a year ago. Because it was so unlike her. It didn't come from her professional admiration for him, but from what little interaction they'd had. Somehow she was able to see through him like nobody else, and if Russell knew them, it was completely against Brock's will. But whatever she was able to see, made her be fiercely protective of him, in a way Russell had only seen her behave about Connor.
Even though the air was always thick between them and many times they seemed about to punch each other. Just like cold-stone Brock would go over his head at the slightest hint of danger to her, she would take a bullet for him anytime.
"So?"
Russell shot a sideways look at her. Her death glare didn't leave much room for misunderstandings. Whether he promised to keep his mouth shut, or he'd be launched from the car in motion. He reached out for her hand and took it with a warm smile, nodding.
Her voice was completely different when she muttered, "Thanks."
