It's late, so I think this'll be the last of today's catch up. Tomorrow we'll do U and V and then we'll be back where we're supposed to be.
Sometimes I have the startling realization that these things are a bad idea.
You can go back to A here.
Sometimes I have the startling realization that these things are a bad idea.
You can go back to A here.
Libby had slept straight through the next day.
Protective Custody was a tiny little apartment with taupe walls and appliances that might have been older than he was. They were probably original to the city build. There was a bedroom almost big enough for the bed, and a pullout couch which was Brody’s home for the foreseeable future took up most of the main area.
They had security, a two man team in the next apartment, and every shift rotation someone knocked on the door to check, and brought them food. Brody had done some of his own searching, and mostly just sat around and tried not to make enough noise to wake her up. Morning shift had come on and knocked on the door, this time they’d brought coffee and a box of pastries and a fruit basket. A doctor was supposed to come do a check-up in the afternoon, and Inspector Hussein thought she’d be there before the doctor was.
Brody hated safe-house work, but he was suddenly intensely understanding over every target that’d ever been a pain in the ass. It was incredibly boring and yet still sort of terrifying. If he said he’d slept well the last two nights he’d have been lying.
Todd had sent him a coded message. Found some breadcrumbs, checking for the toast. Saw what happened, hope you’re okay. Do you need a safe place to stay?
Much as around Todd felt slightly more secure than at the whims of PacIC CID—which they were, no matter how high his opinion of Dagny was—it also felt like it was likely to be much less safe for Todd’s family.
He’s sent back his own message; We’re safe, but thanks for the offer.
There was a soft scuff behind him, and he turned to see Libby cracking a giant yawn as she shuffled out of the bedroom. She walked across the tiny apartment and sat down on the couch next to him. “It’s morning.”
Brody laughed, pressing their shoulders together. “You lost a day, sunshine. How are you feeling?”
She shrugged, clearly taking stock. “I’m breathing.”
He nodded. “There’s a doc coming to check up on you, and Dagny sent a message with shift change that she’d be by this afternoon.”
Libby reached out and grabbed the sketch pad he’d been doodling on for the last day. “Is this a person?”
“The building blocks of one. I wasn’t trying to draw his face so much as remember what kind of features he had.” He wasn’t sure how useful it would prove to be, but it was the best option he had.
“How did you know it was him?”
“He has the light diffuser on his face, I caught it in the sun.” Brody sighed. “And I probably could have caught him.”
“But?”
He looked at her, and smiled sadly. “The alarm went off, and he clearly knew who I was. I couldn’t catch him and get you.”
Libby sighed, and put the pad down. “I keep thinking at some point I’ll be done needing rescued.”
He scoffed. “Well, the last one isn’t on you at all, they pumped gas into your room.”
She watched him. “The one before that?”
“The original one, or the close escape the other night?”
“The close escape the other night was you saving all our butts.” She smiled dryly. “The original one.”
“You saved yourself.” Brody squeezed her shoulder gently. “I just finished the job.”
Libby smiled dryly. “Are you saying I’m a bad damsel in distress?”
“I’m not sure ‘damsel’ is the first adjective I’d pick,” he answered. “And I don’t doubt in the slightest that in the normal run of things you’d be just fine.”
“This isn’t normal.” She sighed. “And I know that, and obviously I appreciate your help.”
“You’re allowed to feel a little off kilter. Even without the rest of it the last couple of days has been a little much.”
There was a knock at the door, and they both jumped.
“Captain Halliday?” The officer who’d done morning change-over called through the door. “Inspector Hussein wanted us to tell you there’s been a change of plans and she’s on her way now.”
“Okay. Thank you,” Brody called back.
“That was cryptic,” Libby muttered.
“She probably didn’t tell him.” He smiled sadly. “You should have some breakfast. I tried to get some food in you yesterday but you weren’t really cooperative.”
“I remember.” She rubbed her face. “Remind me to ask Inspector Hussein about whether I should try to do my check in with Matt, or if I should have her do it or something.”
She probably could do it, and it might make her feel a little more normal. If she didn’t tell him anything specific, just let him know that she was still breathing, it would probably be okay. He hadn’t said anything to Todd about where they were because…because three people could only keep a secret if two of them were dead. Half of CID knew where they were, and he absolutely didn’t like that but there wasn’t anything he could do about it.
There was a distinct difference between that and telling civilians where they were hiding.
Protective Custody was a tiny little apartment with taupe walls and appliances that might have been older than he was. They were probably original to the city build. There was a bedroom almost big enough for the bed, and a pullout couch which was Brody’s home for the foreseeable future took up most of the main area.
They had security, a two man team in the next apartment, and every shift rotation someone knocked on the door to check, and brought them food. Brody had done some of his own searching, and mostly just sat around and tried not to make enough noise to wake her up. Morning shift had come on and knocked on the door, this time they’d brought coffee and a box of pastries and a fruit basket. A doctor was supposed to come do a check-up in the afternoon, and Inspector Hussein thought she’d be there before the doctor was.
Brody hated safe-house work, but he was suddenly intensely understanding over every target that’d ever been a pain in the ass. It was incredibly boring and yet still sort of terrifying. If he said he’d slept well the last two nights he’d have been lying.
Todd had sent him a coded message. Found some breadcrumbs, checking for the toast. Saw what happened, hope you’re okay. Do you need a safe place to stay?
Much as around Todd felt slightly more secure than at the whims of PacIC CID—which they were, no matter how high his opinion of Dagny was—it also felt like it was likely to be much less safe for Todd’s family.
He’s sent back his own message; We’re safe, but thanks for the offer.
There was a soft scuff behind him, and he turned to see Libby cracking a giant yawn as she shuffled out of the bedroom. She walked across the tiny apartment and sat down on the couch next to him. “It’s morning.”
Brody laughed, pressing their shoulders together. “You lost a day, sunshine. How are you feeling?”
She shrugged, clearly taking stock. “I’m breathing.”
He nodded. “There’s a doc coming to check up on you, and Dagny sent a message with shift change that she’d be by this afternoon.”
Libby reached out and grabbed the sketch pad he’d been doodling on for the last day. “Is this a person?”
“The building blocks of one. I wasn’t trying to draw his face so much as remember what kind of features he had.” He wasn’t sure how useful it would prove to be, but it was the best option he had.
“How did you know it was him?”
“He has the light diffuser on his face, I caught it in the sun.” Brody sighed. “And I probably could have caught him.”
“But?”
He looked at her, and smiled sadly. “The alarm went off, and he clearly knew who I was. I couldn’t catch him and get you.”
Libby sighed, and put the pad down. “I keep thinking at some point I’ll be done needing rescued.”
He scoffed. “Well, the last one isn’t on you at all, they pumped gas into your room.”
She watched him. “The one before that?”
“The original one, or the close escape the other night?”
“The close escape the other night was you saving all our butts.” She smiled dryly. “The original one.”
“You saved yourself.” Brody squeezed her shoulder gently. “I just finished the job.”
Libby smiled dryly. “Are you saying I’m a bad damsel in distress?”
“I’m not sure ‘damsel’ is the first adjective I’d pick,” he answered. “And I don’t doubt in the slightest that in the normal run of things you’d be just fine.”
“This isn’t normal.” She sighed. “And I know that, and obviously I appreciate your help.”
“You’re allowed to feel a little off kilter. Even without the rest of it the last couple of days has been a little much.”
There was a knock at the door, and they both jumped.
“Captain Halliday?” The officer who’d done morning change-over called through the door. “Inspector Hussein wanted us to tell you there’s been a change of plans and she’s on her way now.”
“Okay. Thank you,” Brody called back.
“That was cryptic,” Libby muttered.
“She probably didn’t tell him.” He smiled sadly. “You should have some breakfast. I tried to get some food in you yesterday but you weren’t really cooperative.”
“I remember.” She rubbed her face. “Remind me to ask Inspector Hussein about whether I should try to do my check in with Matt, or if I should have her do it or something.”
She probably could do it, and it might make her feel a little more normal. If she didn’t tell him anything specific, just let him know that she was still breathing, it would probably be okay. He hadn’t said anything to Todd about where they were because…because three people could only keep a secret if two of them were dead. Half of CID knew where they were, and he absolutely didn’t like that but there wasn’t anything he could do about it.
There was a distinct difference between that and telling civilians where they were hiding.
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