Karen Rose - Count to Ten

Brooke somehow found her voice. "No, sir. I had no idea Detective Mitchell had spoken to anyone about me."

"We're compiling your file, Miss Adler. We'll be able to terminate you with just cause very soon. It would be better for all concerned if you resigned. Immediately."

Brooke fought back a wave of hysterical nausea. Thoughts of rent and bills and student loans charged through her mind. "I-I can't do that. Sir. I have responsibilities."

"You should have thought about that before you went on an unauthorized jaunt. I'll give you two weeks. At the end of that time I'll have enough in your file to let you go."

He leaned back in his chair, looking powerful, and something in Brooke snapped.

She surged to her feet, her face hot. "I did nothing wrong, and anything you manage to gather against me will be lies." She opened the door, then paused, her hand clenching the knob. "If you try to fire me, I'll go to the press so fast your head will swim."

His lips thinned. "Spin," he said dryly. Mockingly. "My head will spin ."

She nearly faltered, then saw his knuckles whiten as he clenched a pen. Her chin came up. "Whatever. Don't try it, Dr. Bixby, or you'll be the one who's sorry."

Slamming the door, she marched out of his office and into Devin White who stood waiting in the hall. His lips were twitching. "Make his head swim ?" he asked.

Now that it was over, tears burned her eyes. "He's going to fire me, Devin."

His amusement fled. "On what grounds?"

"He's making them up." A panicked sob welled in her throat.

Devin kneaded her shoulders restlessly. "He's just threatening you, Brooke. I know a good lawyer or two. Let's get a beer, calm you down, then we'll decide what to do."

Wednesday, November 29, 6:05 p.m.

Reed thought a half hour was enough time. It allowed Mia to reestablish her composure and allowed him to change his shoes and get them both a decent cup of coffee. He should have gone straight home, it was past six and he needed to set things straight with Beth. He thought about the way he'd dealt with his daughter the night before and the way he'd dealt with Mia Mitchell a half hour before and wondered if females ever hit an age where the men in their lives knew the right thing to do or say.

But he had done the right thing with Mia. It sounded cheesy, but it felt too right to have been wrong. Of course she'd be wary, uncertain. But he wasn't so out of practice that he didn't recognize good chemistry when he stumbled across it. A relationship with a cop would be difficult. Priorities would at times interfere. But the more he thought, the surer he became that if there was a woman who wouldn't want strings, it would be Mia.

And if she does ? The question slyly insinuated itself, rattling him. If under that rough and sarcastic exterior beat the heart of a woman who wanted a home, husband, and children? Then he'd regretfully, but respectfully, walk away. No harm, no foul.

Reed started across the bullpen, his steps slowing as he approached her empty desk. The files she'd been reading were gone and so was Mia.

"She went home," said a cop in a rumpled suit who held something skinny and orange between his lips. A carrot, Reed decided. Another, younger, man sat across from him, typing with hurried strokes, a dozen red roses in tissue paper on top of a foil-wrapped gift box at his elbow. "You must be Solliday. I'm Murphy," the rumpled one said, his tone easy although his eyes were watchful. "And this is Aidan Reagan."

Reed recognized the younger man. "We met, kind of."

Murphy looked surprised. "When?"

Reagan glanced up at his partner. "In the morgue on Monday. I told you I'd seen him there." Then he dropped his eyes back to his keyboard and Murphy's lips twitched.

"Don't be hurt by my partner's bad manners. He's a newlywed and today's his one month anniversary."

Aidan looked up, his eyes narrowed. "Actually it was yesterday, but I had to work and missed it. If I miss it tonight…" He shook his head. "I will not miss it tonight."

Murphy's chuckle was just a tad evil. "I hope not. I hate to even think about the mood you'll be in tomorrow if Tess doesn't try what's in the box tonight."

Reagan didn't even look up. "You're trying to break my concentration, but it won't work." He tapped a few more keys and hit the button on his mouse with fanfare. "There. My report's done and submitted. I'm off to have dinner with my wife."

"And dessert," Murphy said.

Reagan's eyes rolled heavenward as he pulled on his coat. "God, yes. Don't work too late, Murphy. Nice to see you, Solliday." He dashed off, the roses under one arm and the wrapped box under the other.

Murphy's sigh was lusty. "I was with him when he bought what's in the box. Almost made me want to get married again." He looked over at Reed. "You married, Solliday?"

"No." But his imagination was working overtime, envisioning what had been in the box. Envisioning it on a certain curvy little blonde. "I take it that you're not, either."

"Nope." Murphy absently crunched on his carrot stick, but his eyes had gone from watchful to sharp and Reed got the feeling that the man was annoyed with him. '

"How did Mia get home?"

"Spinnelli got her a department car."

"Oh. Well, was she all right when she left?"

"Sure. She packed her files and said she'd read them at home. Said to tell you to meet her in Spinnelli's at eight tomorrow morning. Oh, and she took a message for you." Murphy pushed a piece of paper to the edge of his desk and sat, waiting.

Reed sighed when he read the words.

Holly Wheaton called. She'll meet you for dinner at seven tonight at Leonardo's on Michigan. Wear a tie. She says their pasta is divine and it's her treat.

"Dammit. She had my cell number. Why did she call Mia?"

"I expect she wanted to rub it in Mia's face. Having her take a message like she's your secretary just sweetened it. You and Wheaton have something going?"

Reed flinched. "God, no. The woman's a viper. I made a deal with her so that she'd give us some video she'd made of one of our fire scenes. I've done it before-trade an interview for information. I just had no idea Mia would get so angry about it."

"Most of the time Mia's just like one of the guys, fairly predictable. But when Wheaton crosses her path… Stand back because the claws come out."

He'd seen a little of that last night. "Why?"

"You'll have to ask her that. It was personal. Was that coffee for her?"

"Yeah." Reed handed Murphy one of the cups. "You've known her a long time?"

"Ten years. Back before Ray Rawlston was her partner."

"What happened to him?"

"He died." Murphy looked away. "Line of duty. Mia took out the guy that did it. Took a bullet herself." He looked back, his face pained. "We almost lost her."

Reed sat on the edge of Aidan's desk, stunned. "My God." He couldn't think about her that way, almost being gone. "And then she and Abe get shot? What are the odds?"

"I don't know. I do know she's very… vulnerable right now."

It was a warning and Reed had the good sense to take it as one. "She had a shock this morning, seeing that woman in the crowd. But I think having to admit it to us might have been even harder for her."

Murphy nodded. Slowly. "She's strong, mostly. But she's got heart, and that sometimes yanks her under. Don't yank her under, Solliday."

"I won't."

"Good. Now, throw me that box of Pop-Tarts in her drawer. I'm tired of these damn carrot sticks. Kicking the habit's a bitch."

Reed tossed him the box, brows lifted. "She won't like you eating her stash."

Murphy shrugged. "I'll just blame it on you."

Wednesday, November 29, 7:15 p.m.

"That was delicious," Reed said. "You'll have to make this recipe again."