You Are On My Mind

Internal Affairs Bureau

*it's a long one. My fingers wouldn't stop typing!*

Linda Reagan had only been a Reagan for nine months. The intensity, fear, and worry that came with being married to an officer never failed to surprise her. One day, she was worried sick, the next she felt as if she could take the Empire State Building down with the wrath she had. She knew she wasn't prepared for the call saying her husband had been hurt, or worse. She knew she'd never get used to those heart-stopping, breath holding calls in the middle of the night. She knew there were a lot of things she wasn't prepared for..... she just didn't know this would be one of them.
***********
As Linda put the fresh sheets on the bed, the door bell rang. She frowned, wondering who it could be. Maybe it was a new neighbor, coming to introduce themselves? Maybe a neighbor had gotten her mail instead of their own? Whatever it was, she was sure it wouldn't be that big of a deal. After all, how many people would want to visit a small studio apartment with no air conditioning on a hot summer day?
The bell rang again, and Linda hurried to the door. She peeked through the peep hole, and frowned. She didn't recognize that man. Was he here to tell her her husband was in danger? She opened the door just a crack, the chain lock preventing it from going wide. "May I help you?"
"Ma'am, my name's Mike Powell. I'm with Internal Affairs Bureau, or IAB. I'd like to ask you a few questions about your husband."
Linda opened the door, "is he okay?"
"Physically." He looked at the rumbled sheets on the sleeper couch.
"Oh.... sorry." She went to the bed, tossed the pillows away, and stuffed the bed back into the couch. "Sorry. Um... I wasn't expecting anyone. You kinda just... appeared." She shrugged as she put the cushions back. "Please, take a seat."
Mike sat as he watched her bend over, she's got a great ass. "Nice."
"Huh?" She turned around, a throw pillow in her arms.
"Uh, nice place you've got here."
"It'll do till the kids come along."
"You're pregnant?"
"Oh, no! No!" Linda laughed a little nervously. "Not yet anyways."
"But you want kids?"
"Mhmm. Can I get you anything? Water, tea, coffee?"
"I'm good."
She smiled and sat down. "What's wrong with Danny?"
"Nothing's wrong. We're just looking into something-"
"Whatever it is, I'm sure Danny did the right thing."
Mike frowned a little, "there's just some mandatory questions that I have to ask."
"Okay." Linda crossed her legs, her short shorts showcasing the leanness of her limbs. Her freckled shoulders stood out in her coral tank top. Her hair was messily pulled into a bun, "Sorry about the heat. We've got the crappiest apartment in the building." She stood up and walked to the kitchenette, "which makes no sense cause we've got a balcony!" She walked back with a glass of water. "Sure you don't want one?"
"Positive." Mike watched her sit and cross her legs again. "How did Danny seem this morning?"
"Tired."
"Tired?"
"Mhmm. But who could blame him? It was a late night." She shrugged.
"He worked late?"
"Yeah. Me, too. Poor guy. I get the day off to relax and he has to work through the weekend. I guess rookie nurses get a better deal then rookie cops?"
"He didn't seem angry or anything?"
"No."
"What did you two do this morning?"
"Uh, we woke up, fooled around a bit, took a shower, and got angry phone calls cause we used up all the hot water."
"You took shower together?" Mike clarified.
"Yeah. It's part of his water conservation theory, which, by the way, does not save water." Linda chuckled, and sipped her water.
"Uh huh. Has he, um, ever hit you?"
"No! Goodness, no! He would never do that!"
"Has he Put his hands on you?"
"Not in a mean way."
"Elaborate."
"I mean, of course he's put his hands on me! How else are we supposed to hug or kiss or make love? Unless you're a real tease, you need hands."
"So he doesn't grab you? No hitting or anything?"
"Listen, Danny treats me like I'm a glass doll. He never hits me or grabs at me or assaults me."
"If he never does any of that, how come there are finger print bruises on your upper arms?"
Linda looked down at her arms, not releasing she and Danny had gotten that rough. "Uh—"
"You look surprised. Maybe you're not telling me the truth."
"May I ask you something, Mr. Powell?"
"I-"
"Do you have a wife?"
"No."
"Girlfriend, fiancé? Significant other?"
"Significant other."
"Do you have sex with that other person?"
"I don't see how that's any of your business."
"And it's none of your business why bruises are on my arms."
"Yes, it is. We need to know if Officer Reagan is using excessive force-"
"Excessive force? The only excessive force he uses is in the bedroom! Wanna know why those bruises are there? Because we have sex. And we're just getting into uncharted territories. It got rough last night. He's probably got an equal amount of bruising, but you're not asking him. Why not? Is it because you assume that I'm getting beaten on? That cause I'm the women, I wouldn't beat him?" Linda stood and shook her head. "Listen, all you need for that damn report is that he's a complete gentleman, and we had rough sex. That's it!"
"That's not exa-"
"I'm sorry, Mr. Powell, but you really need to go. I've got work to do, and it's not getting done with you accusing my husband of domestic abuse and violence." Linda practically shoved him out the door, crossing her arms once the door shut. "How dare he accuse Danny of domestic abuse!"
***********
"I heard you got a visit from IAB," Frank told Linda during Sunday dinner.
"Those accusative, good-for-nothing, snoopy-nosed Rat bastards!" Linda muttered angrily.
Danny raised his eyebrows, along with the rest of the family.
"Linda!" Mary Reagan scolded, almost breathily.
"I'm sorry, but when they come parading into your home, unannounced, and then accuse your husband of domestic abuse and violence...."
"What?" Erin wondered.
"Yeah, yeah. Just cause he saw fingerprint bruises on my arms, he assumed Danny grabs me and hits me. Those bastards. I'm sorry," Linda apologized again, "but hasn't anybody heard of rough sex? Anytime a male coworker or any other profession sees marks on me, they automatically assume abuse! It boils my blood."
"There is no way in the universe— earth, heaven, hell, another dimension— that I'd ever hurt you." Danny vowed, talking with his fork in his hand.
"I know that, you know that, they know that, anybody who sees us together knows that!"
"Linda-"
"If you tell me to take a Midol, I'm gonna make sure you don't have any more children," Linda warned her brother in law, Jack Boyle.
"I was just going to tell you that it's procedural. They have to ask Those questions."
"They do," Erin agreed. "It's like the doc asking if you've had any medical changes and stuff like that."
"I'm just glad they found out they were wrong," Mary pipped up. "And that it's all over."
"Until they decide he's a horrible husband again," Linda mumbled, looking into her mashed potatoes.
"It's okay, babe. Those people sometimes have a beef with us cause we're Reagans." Danny shrugged.
"Yeah, Linda," Joe agreed, "and then they look more stupid then they already are when it turns out they're so wrong."
She smiled a little, "I guess so. Like Mary said, I'm glad it's over!"