Believing In You (Blue Bloods Fanfiction)

↞ Chapter Twenty-Nine ↠

Season Three, Episode Twenty-Three

Jameson would need to be in the hospital for at least a week, and though I wanted to be there every day, I had a case to solve, and I had to get justice for Jameson and Vinny.

I tried to not think of it as revenge, though Danny did think of it as such.

He was insistent on doing anything to catch Santana, and though I whole-heartedly agreed it needed to be done about the right way. We couldn't catch him without a warrant or without the proper reasons, no matter how much the pair of us wanted to.

It was day two of our misadventures of catching Santana, and all we had done so far was gone to a bar at nine a.m., arrested one of his cronies, Danny half-ass threatened Nona, and I had full on threatened Santana for hurting Jameson. It was a bold move, and just as dumb, but I had lost control for that second, and nearly regretted it.

Nearly being the important word.

"Right, I'm alright, I've just got an hour or so of this." I smiled lightly as I spoke to Jameson, unable to stop myself from doing such at the sound of his voice. "I'll be by after, what are you thinking for dinner, I can stop on the way?"

"Waffles?" Jameson said it like he wasn't sure, before quickly adding, "And bacon?"

"Sounds perfect my love." I nodded, mentally making a note that he wanted waffles and bacon. "I'll see you then."

He spoke before I good, and I could picture his face as he did. "I love you."

"I love you too." I hung up even though I didn't want to, and smiled across the desk at Danny, who was making a rather disgusted face. "Oh shut it Reagan."

"You kiss my brother with that mouth?" Danny spoke quickly, and I nearly missed the comment, before I snorted and he started to laugh. This was a good side of Danny, though there were plenty all the way around. 

We were looking at files, or at least I was, Danny had taken to using the computer screen, but I preferred hard copies. I bounced plenty of ideas off of him, but the issue fell on the fact that we had no grasp on Santana, we could pick up as many of his foot soldiers and those in his circle, but he's so high above it that he doesn't get his hands dirty.

"God I don't know how much longer I can do this." Danny groaned loudly, flopping backwards in his chair and pressing the palms of his hands into his eyes. I grunted in agreement, rolling my shoulders a bit and massaging the back of my neck. "Santana is a dick."

"You've got that right," I muttered, glancing back down at the file. "How's about we just trail his car? I mean, that's got to give us something."

I was grasping at straws, but that's all that we have at the moment, straws.

"Yeah alright." Danny nodded, holding his hand out to me in a way of asking for the papers from the file, I passed them over with no issue.

"He's got some fancy car, license plates in there, we can put a notification bolo out on it and get started tomorrow I think." I didn't even try to suppress my yawn as I continue. "I've need some sleep, but I'd be ready to go early tomorrow if you want."

Danny yawned, a side effect of the fact that I had yawned, before nodding and standing. "I'm going home, we can, talk, to this numb nuts tomorrow."

I just nodded, standing and pulling my coat on.

I wasn't really sure where I was going, but Kenai kept by my heels as I left through the back door of the precinct. I still had forty or so minutes until Jameson was expecting me, most of which was dedicated to the fact that I wasn't exactly sure of a good place to get waffles and bacon until I drove around for a few minutes and happened upon a little corner diner.

It was a cute place, one of those mum and pop pub sort of places that was on every corner in Wales, I had been to plenty during my time over there, but I hadn't seen any over here.

They greeted me as soon as I walked in, a bright and cheerful 'Hello!' with a smile to accompany it.

"Dining in?" The man who spoke to me was a bit of a grandfather type, and I shook my head.

"No thank you, carrying out please." He motioned for me to have a seat at the stools bar as he grabbed a menu for me to glance at while he grabbed a pen and pad.

"Where ya from?" The grandfather fellow asked as he stepped away, he was called Clifford, that's what his name tag said, and he looked friendly enough. I glanced at the menu as I spoke with a smile.

"Brooklyn originally, London in the middle, and Manhattan now. I live there with my," I paused, blinking slowly once, before continuing, "partner."

He motioned to the menu before commenting on what I had said. "What a pause," He said it with a snort, "Is it complicated?"

"I'll have three waffles, a side of bacon, and a side of hash browns please." I spoke in two parts, the first to answer what I wanted to order, and the second to answer the question he had asked. "Not at all, more like I never know how people are going to react."

"Hmm," That was all Clifford said before turning and speaking through to the kitchen. "This for that partner of yours?" He didn't turn as he spoke, instead busying himself with collecting bits and bobs for the to-go bag.

"It is," I considered what to say, this man was a stranger, but he seemed friendly enough. "He's in the hospital at the moment, and when I called and asked what he wanted me to bring for dinner he said waffles."

"Oh I'm sad to hear that." And Clifford did sound rather sad about it, as sad as a mild stranger could be. "What happened, if I can ask."

This had to be the strangest interaction I had had since coming to New York, which is really saying something. Clifford seemed nice, and I smiled as I answered the question. "He's a police officer, er, well we both are. I'm a Detective Inspector, but we both are-" I stopped myself from speaking, recognizing the fact that I was rambling and should probably stop some time soon.

"Ah, well," Clifford turned, leaning up against the counter, "Thank you for all that you both do."

I never know what to say when people say that, but I nodded. The kitchen staff passed the boxes through and as he started to pack them into a bag I pulled my wallet out. Someone started to walk out of one of the back doors and I instantly clocked him as a worker but didn't give him much attention after that.

"Right, how much I owe you?" I stood, stepping towards the register.

Clifford set the stack of boxes on the table next to me, before shaking his head and pushing it towards me. "Absolutely nothing."

"Oh, no no, I am not taking something-" I was interrupted by Clifford, who smiled as he was joined by someone else behind the counter.

"I insist." Clifford looked at the man who joined him, "From one partnership to another. This is my  partner, using your word, Tom."

And suddenly I knew what all of this meant.

I smiled in thanks, promising to come again, and stuffing a twenty in their tip jar. I took the bags in my hands, excited about the fact that I had met someone such as Clifford and Tom. I wanted to speak for a moment more, but I a group of people came in and I was quick to leave.

It was a different situation, people are quick to offer free things to police officers and detectives (though I don't take them up on it), in exchange for favors in return. But this was different, it was almost like a moment of solidarity between an older gay partnership to a younger gay partnership.

I think Jameson and I'll come around again.