In a whisper, Jaylynn said, "It’s going to be all right, Dez. Really."

The tall cop didn’t respond.

* * *

Morning found the two women wrapped in one another’s arms, Dez’s head against the smaller woman’s chest. She could hear Jaylynn’s heart beat, feel the slow, steady pull of her breath. She didn’t move for fear that she would awaken her.

The dark-haired cop had not slept well. As usual. She awoke remembering wisps of dreams . . . but before she could nail them down, they were gone. Then the events of the previous evening came rushing back to her: the Lieutenant’s patient, hurt face; her own feelings of panic and dismay; throwing her gear and gun into her locker and stomping out of the precinct; the surreal drive over to this house. She hardly remembered how she got from the truck, through the cold wind, and into the house. She was suddenly standing, bootless, at the top of the stairs in the doorway to Jaylynn’s room, and she felt exactly like a volcano must feel moments before it erupted. She had wanted to throw things out the window - maybe bust in a few walls.

How had Jaylynn been so calm and reasonable? She didn’t seem particularly shocked about the new revelation - just concerned about my feelings. Dez winced and closed her eyes tight. For cripesake, I was a total jerk. I would never forgive me if I were her.

She opened her eyes and stared across the room at Jaylynn’s messy desk. The entire room looked like a tornado had whirled through. Her own castoff uniform across the way on the floor didn’t help matters.

Jaylynn let out a little whimper, and the dark-haired woman looked up with a start to find a pair of hazel eyes gazing at her.

"’Morning, Jay."

"Hard to believe it could already be morning what with being kept up all night with you tossing and turning," she said in a grouchy voice. "It was the longest night of my life."

Dez scooted up and rolled onto her back next to Jaylynn, then situated the pillow under her head. "Hmm, I thought the longest night of your life was in the E.R. when I got shot."

Jaylynn let out a snort. "No, that was the most stressful night of my life. There’s a difference."

"I see."

Jaylynn turned on her side, facing the tall woman, and snuggled up next to her. She put her arm across her partner’s ribs, and Dez put her hand on top of it. She rubbed the soft forearm with the side of her thumb, feeling the silky skin. The rookie’s breathing evened out, and Dez could tell she had fallen back to sleep.

She lay there thinking about all the things she liked about their life together. She liked the sheer comfort of it, the decadence of reveling in warmth and tranquility. She liked the way this sunny woman could turn her day from dark to bright, all with just a few words. She liked to touch her, to hold her, to make love with her. She liked it all far too much.

Her stomach tightened up, and she felt a wave of tension come over her body. What will I do if she leaves? What if something happens to her?

When the lieutenant talked with her the night before, she had been thrown into a state of panic. Who would he send the rookie out with? There were few officers she trusted with such a precious charge. She wondered how she could influence his decisions or the decisions of the shift sergeant. And how long would it be before the gossip about their relationship got around? She wasn’t sure about any of this at all, and the uncertainty made her feel crazy with alarm.

"Dez?" The sleepy breath blew softly on the skin of her shoulder.

"Yeah?"

"Why are you clenching your muscles like that? It’s like sleeping with someone in rigor mortis."

"Oh - well, that sure makes me sound appealing."

The smaller woman sighed. "You are very appealing - just stop with the convulsions."

Dez let out a quiet chuckle. Obviously last night’s scene hadn’t turned Jaylynn against her. Still, she figured she had better apologize. Later, though. Much later. For now, she had one very tired blonde on her hands.

PART FIVE

Dez rode silently, her eyes systematically scanning the streets of the University “Frogtown” neighborhood. Three days had passed since Nielsen had ratted out her relationship with Jaylynn to the Lieutenant.  he wouldn’t even have known who had reported them if it weren’t for the fact that Nielsen had gone around the precinct bragging about it.

Now here she was, bored, angry, stuck in a one-man car, and wishing she could get Nielsen alone in a dark alley.

She found she despised riding alone. It was bad enough during the weeks when Jaylynn’s collarbone had been injured, but at least she had something to look forward to after the rookie healed up. But now they would never be paired again. Nielsen had made sure of that. What an asshole. I hope he fails probation!

She cruised down University Avenue, slowing to eyeball anyone walking on the sidewalk. So far, she had seen no Ladies of the Night. Of course, it was only about twelve degrees out. Not a good night for mini-skirts and fishnet stockings - although she was constantly surprised at the fortitude of the women who braved the bad weather to make a few bucks off the willing johns who cruised the area.

She came to a stop at a red light on Snelling and University, and the car idled while she thought about the situation. What had she done after Ryan died and before Jaylynn entered her life? She didn’t have much memory of the time other than the feeling of a heavy weight pressing, non-stop, on her chest. Unfortunately, in the last few days, the feeling had returned, though not to such a painful degree. Every night at roll call she held her breath, hoping Jaylynn would be assigned to a cop with integrity, one who would watch her back. So far the duty sergeant had succeeded in assigning Jaylynn to Pilcher, when Pilcher’s regular partner, Stevens, was off for the day, and to Crystal Lopez. Pilcher was okay, but Dez breathed a sigh of relief when the rookie was assigned to ride with Crystal. She knew Crystal would never let anything bad happen. She’d been friends with Crystal since she’d joined the force almost ten years ago, and Dez relied on her buddy. That didn’t stop her from worrying. She had programmed her radio to scan several extra channels so she could listen to dispatch for both of the sectors. She paid careful attention to the calls that the rookie’s squad was sent out on.

Tonight was quiet. Too quiet to help the time pass. She pulled over into the Big K parking lot near Hamline and University, angling her car toward the main street so that she could make a fast departure if Dispatch called. She clicked on the sidelight and picked up a sheaf of papers and a clipboard to start completing reports.

After thirty minutes, she was bored with the paperwork. She was grateful not to be riding a desk. She didn’t much care for filling out forms and trying to figure out how to explain things in the fewest words possible. That was one of the reasons she had never taken the sergeant’s exam. Every step up the ladder seemed to decrease street action and increase the amount of time spent poring over statements and records. She liked being on her feet, moving around. Sometimes she got into a flow where time just sped by, and her shift was over before she knew it. Some days, though, like today, nothing she did could hasten the slow hours.

She looked at her watch. Crystal and Jaylynn were scheduled for meal break at nine. Some nights they had been able to meet at a restaurant on the border of the two sectors - not that she needed to eat. After all the Thanksgiving treats she had packed away the week before, she felt she shouldn’t eat again for about a month. But she was hungry now, so she pulled out her cell phone and dialed the rookie’s pager, then started counting. She knew if it took longer than about fifteen seconds, they were likely on a call . . . but the rookie’s cell was answered right away.

The tall cop’s spirits rose when the cheery voice came loud and clear over the line. “Is it as dead over in your sector as it is in ours, Dez?”

“Yup.”

“Want to go hang out for break?”

“Yup.” In the background she could hear Crystal’s voice, though Dez couldn’t understand what she said.

“Same bat place, same bat channel?”

“Yup.”

“’Kay. ETA six minutes.”

They both hung up simultaneously. Dez turned on the ignition key and the engine roared to life. Her ETA, without speeding, would be at least six minutes. She was glad there was so little traffic out. It didn’t matter if she exceeded the speed limit.

Only seconds apart, they arrived at Danny Boy’s, a quiet Irish pub that served excellent hamburgers and sandwiches. There were two sections of the bar. One side sported open tables surrounded by huge TVs tuned in to local sports events. Little food was served in that section, but the beer ran like water from the taps. A brick wall separated tonight’s crowd of football fans from the other, darker side where there were wooden booths, cloth napkins, and menus on the tables. They were greeted warmly by the waitress who had been around long enough to know that they might get a call in the middle of dinner, but could be counted on to come back for their boxes of food, not to mention pay for it.

Crystal slid into one side of the booth, right in the center, leaving the other two cops to squeeze in next to one another on the other side - not that they minded. Dez liked the feeling of Jaylynn’s blue clad leg pressed up against her thigh. She found herself smiling, for no reason, and she pushed down the happy feeling and tried not to look so lovestruck.

Crystal gazed across at her and shook her head. “You, chica, got it bad.”

Dez raised an eyebrow and let her face take on a passive expression. “I sure have no idea what you mean.”

She felt a warm hand slide over her leg and stop at her knee to give a squeeze. Boom! Her knee came up reflexively and smacked against the underside of the table. “Ouch! Geez, Jay. Thanks for giving her fodder for her sick twisted mind.”

“You’re welcome.”

The waitress arrived with three glasses of water and a recitation of the evening’s specials. They all ordered sandwiches, which were quick and portable. Crystal ordered a diet Coke.

The tall cop shook her head. “How can you drink that stuff, Crys? It’s like battery acid.”

“Yeah, but no calories. I need to keep the weight down. Gotta run that two mile thing again here in a couple weeks, and the less I’m packin’ the better.” Jaylynn nodded. Crystal pointed her finger at the blonde. “Don’t you be nodding. You never have trouble with the qualifying run.” She turned her gaze toward Dez. “But you’ll be a bit slower, I see.”

“What?” The dark-haired woman squinted in the dim light at her pal.

“You know what I mean. Must be the honeymoon. You’re packing the poundage, too.”

Dez’s face burned.  f she could have gotten up and walked out, she might have, but she was parked on the inside of the booth. Besides, though she knew Crystal was teasing, her first response was to go across the table and choke the ever-living life out of her friend. She restrained herself.

“Hey, earth to Desiree.” Crystal snapped her fingers up in the air. Dez stared daggers at her causing the Latina to raise both hands in the air, palms facing them. “Sorry. Sorry. Didn’t know you were so sensitive. Just thought maybe you could give me a little moral support.”

The tall cop glanced to the side to find hazel green eyes peering up at her, puzzlement showing. “Dez, is it just me, or is she calling you fat!” A smiled twitched at the sides of Jaylynn’s mouth, an infectious look that made Dez relax. Jaylynn grinned and said, “Well, Officer Lopez, obviously you’ve never seen my honey naked.”

“Oh, geez, Jay!” Dez rolled her eyes, but she was gratified to see, even in the dim light, that the black-haired cop was blushing.

The rookie went on. “Just sticking up for my loved one.” She picked up her menu. “Enough of this poor body image discussion. Let’s order, preferably something good and fattening.”

The rest of the conversation was much less embarrassing to Dez, and instead of the cheeseburger she had originally planned to have, she ordered a turkey sandwich, which came piled high on wheat bread and was much better for her than the burger would have been.

After they finished their food, talk turned to station politics. They debated about who would pass probation and speculated about the new group from the Academy. The latest crew, which had signed on mid-year, had one woman, and Jaylynn’s class had had only had two. Nobody understood why so few women were joining up. They knew the classes were small because unemployment was low. Despite vigorous recruiting, not many young people were applying. They were short on patrol and in the investigation squads - with more retirements on the horizon. Several promotions had occurred, and Dez and Crystal agreed that they didn’t respect a couple of the officers promoted.

Jaylynn scooped out a last bite of coleslaw. With her mouth partly full, she said, “A lot of people are slated for retirement. I heard two of the lieutenants talking about it when I was on desk duty. They said something about having ten percent salary savings because of vacancies.”

Crystal wiped her mouth on the napkin, then folded it and set it on the table. “You’d think they’d use some of that cash to replace a couple of those caca cruisers. I’m sick of the heat going out in 223. It’s a piece of junk.”

Dez nodded.

Jaylynn said, “They’ve got the whole budget based on line items, though. You can’t take money from one line item because it’s dedicated for that purpose only. I think they have to get special permission from the City Council. So instead, they try to run quite a bit of overtime, not just to cover the job, but also to use up the money.”

“Where’d you get that idea?” Her partner looked at her out of the corner of her eye, and Jaylynn gazed back.

“Heard a lot of things when I was at the main stationhouse.”

Crystal sighed. “Somebody ought to take a stick to the City Council then. What’s the point of a budget if it isn’t flexible?”

Dez checked her watch, then reached for her wallet. “Speaking of funds, my turn to leave the tip.” Everybody ponied up cash for the meal, and the three of them wormed their way out of the booth.

Jaylynn reached her hand over and placed it flat on Dez’s stomach. “She’s not so fat, Crystal . . . it’s just the vest.”

The Latina rolled her eyes and muttered, “Yeah, sure. Otherwise we’d be able to see her six-pack right through her shirt, right?”

Dez turned and stalked out. She’d taken all the flak she could stomach. Her long legs carried her out to the car, and she unlocked it and got in. As she drove past the front of the pub, Jaylynn gave her a little wave, so she saluted, then hit the gas.

She didn’t know why Crystal’s comments irritated her so much, but they did. She headed back to the north end of her sector and to patrol the dark streets by herself. Two-plus more hours left alone.

* * *

Dez didn’t think it had been a good night at all. Saturday night’s all right for fightin’… She sighed. There had been a slight warming trend, and the late afternoon and early evening were uncommonly balmy. Only now, after dark, had the cold set in. Despite the dropping temperatures, even at seven p.m. the loonies were out, and everyone seemed to be grumbling about the sudden onset of the cold. Homeless people, drunks, vandals - seemed everyone was fighting or yelling and disturbing the peace. Dez had already been to a nightclub on Selby Avenue twice because the residences around it reported fights in the alley. The Sharks and the Jets scattered when she drove her car down the alleyway. She wondered how many more times she’d have to go back before someone got knifed or knocked unconscious.

It didn’t help that she was exhausted. She hadn’t had more than three consecutive hours of sleep for nearly a week. Didn’t matter how late she stayed up. Even when she should have been tired, she wasn’t. Lying next to the slumbering Jaylynn used to be thrilling, but had lately grown old when she couldn’t get enough rest to be anything but crabby the next day.

Seeing another unit with flashing lights in front of the Tora Tora Bar on University, Dez turned onto a side street and parked along the curb near the vacant lot on the corner. She had heard the call a while ago, but she’d been busy at the nightclub and hadn’t paid attention who had been dispatched. It was still early in the evening, but the sun had set long ago, and it was dark. She got out of the car and realized it wasn’t balmy any more. She found she was actually shivering from the cold breeze. Zipping up her jacket, she made a mental note that it was time to break out the winter coat for cold nights such as this.

She stood on the corner, with the street on her left, and looked ahead down the sidewalk. The bar was on the right, and its door led right out on to the sidewalk. Ahead of her, in front of that doorway, Arturo Alvarez stood, his back to her, his hands behind him, as he spoke to three teenage youths on bicycles that seemed too small for the kids’ large frames.

To her left, Alvarez’s Crown Victoria cruiser was parked on the street, up close to the curb. Dwayne Nielsen lounged against the right quarter panel of the squad car, his feet crossed at the ankles and hands pressed together at his chest as though he were praying. As she drew nearer, she saw him break into a wide smile and tip his head first to one side, then the other.

She looked at him, knowing that the hatred shone in her eyes, but not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he had hurt her. She knew that if she were given the opportunity, she’d deck him. Too bad that wasn’t a possibility.

His eyes darted toward the bar where Alvarez stood under the dim streetlight, speaking earnestly to the boys. Nielsen uncoiled himself and slithered toward her, his gait smooth, his face mocking. “Where’s your little gal pal, Dez honey?” he hissed.

She slowed to a halt, her hands in fists. In a soft voice, she said, “You’re making - no, you have made - a big mistake.”

He stopped four feet from her, grinning and giggling softly. “Uh huh, right. Seems like you’re the one suffering.”

The tall cop eyed the rookie officer. They stood nearly eye to eye with Dez being only perhaps an inch shorter, though he probably outweighed her by thirty pounds. She maintained eye contact, letting the hate she felt surge through her. Crossing her arms, she began counting silently, all the while staring him in the eye. By the time she got to six, he was laughing nervously. “Big, tough Reilly. You think you’re so great-”

“Little weasely Nielsen. How does it make you feel that most of the precinct is wondering why, why, why were you at a gay bar? Everybody knows about me, but they simply had no idea about you.”