Since he didn’t know what to say, George went with, “Thank you, Daniel.”
“You’re always welcome. And you have to introduce me to Andi one of these days.”
“I’ll think about it. Take care of yourself. And Daniel?”
“Yeah?”
“If you ever need me to listen to you… you have my number.”
“Let’s just hope it never comes to that.”
“Asshole.”
“It’s my pleasure.” Daniel laughed. “Thank you, George. I may take you up on your offer. Bye.”
The line went dead before George could properly say goodbye. He stared at his phone for a long time, wondering what he should do. Then he decided to heed at least part of Daniel’s advice for once, namely to go on a run. First, though, he had to make sure Andi was sleeping well before he could start the drive home.
15. Entangled
THE NEXTmorning, Andi was woken by the delicious smell of pancakes. Knowing this was George trying to mend whatever he thought had been broken the day before, Andi got out of bed and hurried through his morning routine. The arthropods in the house were content, if a bit giddy because cooking always meant feeding, something that didn’t happen too often when it was only Andi. George, on the other hand, was a reliable source of food, not just for Andi. When Andi entered the kitchen, George looked up from the stove with a guilty expression Andi didn’t like seeing on his face. Before his partner could utter a word, Andi started.
“I’m sorry about yesterday. What I said about the victims deserving death—well, I still think they did, but I could have phrased it differently. Not made it so offensive for you.”
George’s shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have gone off like I did. I admit it’s kind of a hot topic for me, because my family has rigid views on the law. Nevertheless, that doesn’t mean I should dismiss other opinions the way I did yours.”
Andi chuckled. “Look at us all being adult and reasonable and stuff. I’d say we put it behind us. Can I have my pancakes?”
George grinned, his relief radiating off him in waves of pleasant pheromones as the moths in the ceiling and the spider in the corner attested. “Of course.” He put a plate stacked high with golden baked disks and fresh strawberries and melon in front of Andi. After he had prepared his own plate, he sat down next to Andi at the kitchen bar, throwing him a sideways glance. “Can we talk about the other thing that happened yesterday?”
“I guess it’s too much to ask for you to just forget about it?” Andi put the first fork of fluff into his mouth and chewed slowly. George shook his head, placed a strawberry slice on his pancake before eating it.
“I’m sorry I worried you.” Andi stared at his plate. He knew he needed to say more, give an explanation of some kind. The problem was, he couldn’t even remember everything he had said when the input from the arthropods had become too much. His defenses had been low because of the argument—another reason Andi hated people, interacting with them distracted him, though he couldn’t hate George, never George—and the switch from slow-boiling anger to being swamped had been too sudden for Andi to exercise any control. He was aware that his own thoughts were mixing with what he got from his surroundings more and more, and it was hard for him to decipher what he had really said, what had just been in his head, what had come from the arthropods, and what was mere memory. “Sometimes I get kind of tripped up in what I receive.”
George snorted, no amusement in his voice. “Tell me about it.” He turned in his seat, looked directly at Andi, the worry in his gaze hitting Andi hard. “I’ve seen you go deep with the crawlers before, Andi, and I’m aware how ugly it can be, but yesterday—you lost control yesterday, and none of what you said made a lot of sense. At least not to somebody who doesn’t know you. And it was me who triggered it. Your own partner.”
“To be honest, I’m glad it was you and not somebody else. Otherwise I’d be in a padded cell now.” Andi tried to sound nonchalant, though he knew very well this would be the harsh reality for him if things kept escalating at this pace.
“I don’t even want to think about it.” George took a piece of melon, chewed it thoughtfully. “What are the chances this is going to happen again?” He was now using his pragmatic tone, the one indicating he was looking for a solution. Andi was insanely grateful and, at the same time, wary. Any solution would involve George and therefore be short-term. Yet he needed his partner if he wanted to have any chance at keeping his life running smoothly—or as smoothly as he could hope for—after George was gone. Which meant he had to be honest. Suddenly the pancakes tasted like ash in Andi’s mouth.
“They’re pretty high. I told you, I’m going through a phase, and I’m trying to adapt. It’s just taking some time.”
“I wish I could help you.”
The words were so heartfelt, Andi realized his throat was constricting. “You do help me. More than you realize. Without you, I would have had to call in sick or take an extended leave of absence half a year ago.”
“Which is still a possibility.” George sounded bitter, as if Andi’s problems were his fault. He probably saw it that way.
“Yes, but just that, a possibility. Not inevitable.”
“I don’t like it.” George glared at what was left of his pancakes.
“Me neither. We’ll have to work with it, though. You think you can do that? Or will you dump my crazy ass the next time I slip?” Andi was going for teasing. The way George’s shoulders tensed, he wasn’t too successful. His partner forced a smile on his lips.
“I’m a Donovan. We don’t back down from challenges. Never. Your crazy ass is safe with me.” The mixture of pain, determination, gentleness, and despair in George’s voice summed up their situation accurately.
“Then let’s finish breakfast and get our sorry selves to the precinct. Hopefully there’s something new from either Shireen or CSI. Otherwise, I’m afraid we’re stuck at the moment.”
“Which sucks on so many levels.” George took a huge gulp of his coffee. “Why can’t we just get the perfect suspect served on a silver platter, who made one crucial mistake which allows us to arrest them?”
