Believing In You (Blue Bloods Fanfiction)

↞ Chapter Sixteen ↠

Season Three, Episode Thirteen

I have to be one hundred percent honest, I have no idea what I am doing whenever I'm off work.

Most of it's spent with Jameson, or sleeping, or both. A lot of the time I'll sit around and read, or write something not great, or call my aunt like I do once a week. But most of the time I'm not really doing anything specific.

Which is why I am always rather confused whenever I end up leaving late to go to dinner with Frank.

It's the same day every month, no matter what day of the week it falls on, and nearly every time we go to the same place. Which means that based off of psychology and stuff, I shouldn't be able to forget about it, but I did. Not that I wanted too, I really enjoyed the talks that we have and the friendliness that we share.

So when I rolled up to the One PP, I was coming in on two wheels (metaphorically speaking of course, I did not want a speeding ticket). I hopped inside, upset that I had let myself let it get so late in the day and I was worried that Frank wouldn't want to go out anymore.

Maybe some coffee then, I never did get out of the habit of drinking coffee and tea so late in the day, I even got Jameson hooked on it as well.

I strolled on through to the elevators, pushing the button for the right floor, and waiting patiently. I started to reach to pet Kenai, like I usually do when I'm standing still for a long time, only to remember she was at home with my Jameson and not with me right now.

Surprisingly Baker wasn't at her usual spot by her desk when I walked in, and as I stood there waiting (for a lot longer than I wanted to) I realized that there was a note on the desk addressed to me.

It simply said to go on in because Frank was waiting, so after second guessing it, and maybe even triple guessing, I knocked once before stepping into the officer.

"Hullo Frank, Baker's not said to come on in-" My voice faltered, and I realized that he wasn't alone in the office. "And I can most definitely wait outside if you need me too. I am so sorry."

I started to turn to step out again but Frank lifted his hand to stop me.

"No Jett. Mr. Swint was just leaving." Frank spoke firmly, and I realized that whoever it wasn't actually going to leave but that Frank wanted him too.

The man, Swint, sighed as he stood. He turned to me, and I recognized his face from somewhere.

"Curtis Swint, and you are?" He held his hand out to me and I smiled in a friendly way, trying to pick out his face from my memory.

"This is Detective Inspector Jethro Howards, my future son-in-law." Frank said it in such a way that I totally believed what he had to say. That is until I realized that I hadn't proposed and that I didn't think Jameson and I weren't ready for marriage just yet.

Swint smiled in a way that would have been charming if not for the subtle malice behind it. "I didn't realize the A.D.A was getting remarried." The word 'remarried' seemed to be an insult to Swint, and his face became just a bit clearer in his mind.

Garrett attempted to say something, to diffuse the building tension in the room, but Frank beat him to it.

"No, no Erin isn't." Frank said it with a vague smile. "But my son, Jamie Reagan is."

And suddenly Swint looked rather taken back. He seemed to pull away from me, putting a few feet of distance between the two of us. "You're one of those, homosexuals." His northwestern accent was rather strong when he said it, almost like 'hom-ie-o-sexuals' not that that took away any of the weight from the insult. "I cannot believe you brought me into this office, under the guise of friendly conversation only to berate me with this insulting attempt at a police officer-"

"That's enough." My voice was firm, and I added as an afterward. "Mr. Swint."

He seemed disgusted that I had even spoken to him, and before I could get the chance, Garrett stepped towards the door and opened it for the man. He took the hint and turned to leave, the door clicked shut behind him and the room was tense and heavy.

"Well that was a shit-show." Garrett said, though it wasn't an insult, rather an observation.

I was seething, the words barely registered with me.

I spun, looking at Frank with a sad-angry sort of look. I didn't want to be angry, I didn't want to be disappointed in Frank, but it is so much harder to not be angry than it is to get angry.

"Garrett." My voice was sharp, and I attempted to soften it when I looked at the man. "Can I have a word with Frank, alone?"

Garrett looked between the two of us, as if it was a terrible idea to leave us alone. "I'll head home. See you tomorrow boss."

I didn't turn back to Frank until the door shut firm, when I did, he was trying to diffuse the tension in the room by busying himself with grabbing things that he needed. "Dinner? I found this-"

"I didn't appreciate that." That was however putting it nicely.

"I'm sorry." Frank tried to sound genuine, and I think he meant it, but he didn't get  it.

"I understand how awful that man is. You were rising above everything, or at least attempting to." I sighed, trying to calm my anger. "Frank, you used  me. Even for just that moment. That three minute conversation, you used me."

He didn't seem to catch on, and the more I spoke, the more calm I became.

"You used me, because of my sexuality." My hands were fidgeting with the bracelets I wore on my wrist. "You wanted Swint to know that you were a friend to the, the homosexuals," I felt awful as I spoke, and I didn't want to keep talking. "You wanted him to not look at you as the Catholic Police Commissioner but rather the open-minded father with a gay son, and a future son-in-law."

And suddenly I wasn't hungry anymore.