Broken Blue Lines: Love. Hate. Criminal Justice.: An FBI Crime Drama / LGBT+ Love Story
Page 58
“Those are tickets to New Orleans. You, me, and Mari are going on vacation together next month.”
“You’re kidding me. Please don’t be kidding me.”
“I’m not kidding you,” assured John.
“You shouldn’t pay for this,” said Nick. “I ….might not want you to ask where it came from, but I have money. I even have legal NYPD payoff money.”
“So do we,” said John. “I earn a good salary. Mari makes even more than I do. I intend to show you that an honest living doesn’t mean you can’t afford to have fun.”
JOHN
“What is this, a sex thing?” asked a TSA agent, peering at Nick’s anklet and glancing between him and John and Mari.
Nick snorted with laughter. “No, it’s real, unfortunately.”
“So are my handcuffs,” agreed John with a mischievous gleam in his eyes as he produced his badge and the order allowing Nick out of state. “It’s an electronic monitoring anklet, and he’s in my custody.”
A TSA supervisor came over and studied the paperwork closely. “We’re gonna need you to remove the anklet and let us do an explosives residue test on it.”
“Okay,” agreed John with a shrug, leaning down and tickling Nick’s ankle for a second before pulling the thing. He handed it to the agent. “It’ll probably pop for explosives, because I recently loaded the gun you just cleared me to carry.”
“You two are exciting to travel with,” said Mari dryly.
Fifteen minutes later, a third agent approached. “In order to transport an inmate on a civilian flight, you need to register him in ahead of time for restraint and pre-boarding.”
John sighed. “He’s not flying as an inmate. That’s a civilian ticket. We’re going on a federally-approved vacation. We’re happy to pre-board, but he’s not getting restrained.”
Three very confused agents clustered, broke away, then grouped again in front of John. “The anklet popped for explosive residue.”
“I told you it would,” said John patiently. “I have federal authority to carry my loaded firearm on the aircraft. If you can’t trust me and your x-rays to tell you that anklet’s not hazardous, I don’t know what to tell you.”
“But it’s not you carrying the device, it’s a federal inmate,” said one of the agents.
Mari snatched the anklet from the agent’s hand, stooped down, fastened it around John’s ankle, and straightened. “It’s a sex thing.”
The supervisor’s jaw dropped, and all three looked at each other.
“You’re clear to board,” said the supervisor, handing back the papers with a pink tinge to his cheeks.
Nick and Mari couldn’t stop giggling on the way to the gate.
“Shut up,” muttered John.
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” said Nick evenly. “It’s just a sex thing, it’s not like you’re a felon or something.”
“Did you miss the bit where I’m still wearing my gun?” asked John. “And the part where I specified it was loaded?”
NICK
Nick set his bag down when they reached the gate, a half hour early for boarding despite the holdup at security.
John fumbled around in his pocket for the anklet key. “Give me your hand,” he ordered crisply.
“Don’t you mean my ankle?” asked Nick, a prickle of unease running up his spine. Surely John hadn’t decided to handcuff him for the journey after all.....?
“Hand,” insisted John.
Hand, singular? Nick presented his right hand uncertainly.
“Wrong one,” said John.
Nick held out his left hand, and John pulled something that turned out not to be an anklet key from his pocket.
It was a ring. A narrow, square-edged, white gold ring with a small diamond flush-set in the band.
“May I?” asked John softly.
Nick’s heart started pounding so fast, he staggered. “Yes,” he whispered.
John slipped the ring gently on his hand and squeezed it. Mari stepped into his place, holding up a matching band in yellow gold.
“May I?” she asked just as softly.
“Yes,” whispered Nick again.
The two rings, white and yellow, sat perfectly together on his finger, and Nick stared at them in awe.
“You meant it,” said Nick finally, his voice cracking. “Oh, my God, you meant it. I love you both. I love you guys so much.”
John kissed him tenderly on the lips, and Nick wrapped his arms around the agent so that he could stay on his feet.
Mari hugged him from behind, whispering, “And this is the story of how Boarding Gate Twelve A became my new favorite landmark.”
JOHN
John fought his way through the crowd in a dark, smoky restaurant in the French Quarter where he was supposed to meet Nick. Where the hell was the guy?
Nick was on stage with a band, wearing a vest and a tie, shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, hair perfectly slick and yet somehow tousled. He held a microphone with loose ease in his right hand, and his left was around the waist of an impossibly pretty girl in a yellow dress.
The girl was singing, and Nick joined in with a beautiful voice.
Islands in the stream
That is what we are
No one in between
How can we be wrong
Sail away with me
To another world
And we rely on each other, ah ha
From one lover to another, ah ha
John knew his mouth was open, and didn't care. He was witnessing a flawless performance, energy and beauty fused in a tight, confident rhythm.
Nick tilted his chin up as he took his turn in the duet, standing back to back with the female singer, the fingers of his left hand intertwined loosely with hers.
You do something to me that I can't explain
Hold me closer and I feel no pain
Every beat of my heart
We got something going on
Nick twirled, danced, sang and exulted in the performance, unreserved. Nobody would have ever guessed he'd had a care in his life, let alone been hurt so badly. The gleeful freedom in his movements belied the tracker on his ankle, every glimmer of captivity shed. He was magic, and creating magic. Every eye in the room was on the two of them, every body swaying to their beat.
He made his own reality. Not on a superhuman level. He could be beaten, and confined, and hurt. But what he could control, he shaped. With outrageous audacity and complete success, he created glamour and romance and joy.
Sail away with me
To another world --
-- And then Nick pivoted, and met John's eyes, and in that second, they understood each other more deeply than John would have imagined possible.
Sail away with me
To another world
John was still spellbound, almost dazed, when the song ended and applause drowned out every other sound. Nick and the woman yellow and the band bowed and thanked and waved, all smiles and poise.
"And in just a few minutes here, we'll have everything set up for karaoke," announced Nick, projecting just the right blend of eager anticipation and leadership. "Then, we invite you up on the stage to make the evening your own. I know I'm looking forward to enjoying the show from the audience. Good night everyone, and have fun!"
Nick walked backstage, and a few minutes later appeared like magic beside John, a beaming grin on his face, eyes alight with joy, his stance so light John almost expected him to bounce in place. The pain that had been a constant ache in John's core ever since Riker's faded away softly, replaced with simple faith and love.
Okay. I'll sail away with you, to your other world. We'll still have our office, and crime and harsh realities, and you'll still flinch when I raise my hand with something in it. But we'll create something better around us, and revel in the joy of our friendship, and make those realities step aside for fun and glamour and laughter whenever we can.
"You know we're doing karaoke together, right?" said Nick.<
br />
John groaned. "Oh, come on. I'm not singing Islands in the Stream with you."
Their eyes met again, with the same power. "Sail away with me," said Nick, almost in a whisper, overwhelmed with emotion.
"To another world," whispered John back, because his voice would crack if he tried to use it full strength.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
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Ariadne