It seemed they had a new case.
CHAPTER 3
HEADING OUT
“I hate packing.”
The words came out of the blue, seemingly, though not for George. He had been waiting for some kind of reaction since they’d gone back to his Escalade.
“I’m going to do it for you. Perhaps you can find us a hotel? Something decent with as few crawlers as possible.”
Andi scoffed. “You do realize the number of mites in any hotel, no matter how meticulous they are about cleaning, is enough to have me drowning in information if I don’t shield properly?”
“I do realize.” George glanced at his partner. “Is there anything we can do to make it easier for you? Perhaps chase them off somehow?”
“If you’re referring to me directing other arthropods to do my will, I’m not sure I’m ready for that level of self-dissolution yet.”
“I was more thinking along the lines of something we can spray on the bed…some herbal concoction or the likes.” George didn’t want Andi to actively try directing arthropods. They were making slow progress on him handling the passive influx of information without Andi going crazy or losing himself. Active usage of the bond was out of the question. Just like using the geschenk for a wild goose chase in Spartanburg. “If you don’t want to go to Spartanburg, just say the word. Gelman said it himself—he doesn’t think there’s a case.”
Something in his body language must have alerted Andi because his partner stared at him. It couldn’t be any arthropods, or so George hoped, because his car was usually crawler-free. For something as obvious as George’s disdain for this excursion, Andi didn’t need them anyway. Even without the extra input, his partner was scarily good at reading people and if that talent had developed to its current state because he usually got so many additional clues or if it had always been there and only been enhanced, it was like wondering which came first—the hen or the egg.
“You don’t want us to go.” It was a statement, not a question. Andi rarely asked questions anymore.
“Not really. I don’t see why we should endanger the fragile balance we have achieved by poking our noses into something that’s probably just a glitch in probabilities.”
“I can see where you’re coming from.” Andi put his hand on George’s on the middle console. It was another new development between them, and Andi was actively seeking contact. “And I share your worry. I don’t think I’m stable enough to just dive in for the heck of it.”
“But? I hear a very strong but coming.”
They both grinned. “But I see this as a chance as well. You heard Gelman. There is nothing to be lost here. No pressure to get results quickly. As cases go, it would be relaxed. Ideal for trying out things, ideal to learn.”
“And we’re jinxed.” George mock sighed.
“You don’t believe in magic.”
“I’m not sure jinxing qualifies as magic.”
“Debatable.” Andi waggled the hand that was not holding George’s.
“Fine. It could perhaps be magic.” George set the blinker to get into the driveway of Andi’s—now their—home.
After he had parked, they both got out and went into the house. George went to pack, and Andi sat down in the kitchen and booked them a hotel room. It took them the better part of an hour to get everything done, secure the house, make sure the fridge was emptied of perishable goods—Luke might think this was going to be only a two-day stint, but George decided to not be so optimistic—which they brought to one of their neighbors, Mrs. Gray, a kind elderly lady who never said no to George’s cooking or their supplies.
The drive to Spartanburg was quiet and uneventful. George knew Andi needed to prepare himself for the inevitable onslaught of arthropods he wasn’t familiar with, and he himself used the time to make plans for all the eventualities they might face. He always felt better when he knew he was ready to tackle whatever they came across. Going into another precinct was always a delicate matter that needed to be handled with care. Not stepping on toes unless it was absolutely necessary was a skill George had perfected during his time in Narcs, and he was proud of it.
The situation in Spartanburg, as Luke had described it, was definitely even more complicated than the average joint operation between precincts and would no doubt require him to walk on the proverbial tightrope. If it weren’t for his worries about Andi’s well-being, George would enjoy the challenge. As things were, he felt the pull in different directions, knowing it would increase when they had their first real case. George was still not sure what to think of this trial run. Then again, perhaps thinking wasn’t really necessary.
After he had parked in front of the Spartanburg precinct in a spot that had just been vacated by another car, George turned to his partner. The fine lines around Andi’s eyes and mouth were more prominent than during the drive, the circles under his eyes getting darker while George watched. It was never a good sign. He reached over the middle console to touch Andi’s hand. It was cooler than George would have liked. Cool hands indicated a level of stress requiring meditation, not walking into a hostile situation. He waited.
“Commotion, back, forth, up, up, too loud, adrenaline, chuff, chuff, thump, heavy, vibrating, sssrt, ktch, anger, wrath, so loud, too much!”
George took Andi’s hand, placed it on his chest, over his heart, deliberately slowing his breathing, his heartbeat, to offer Andi an anchor. For a few moments, only Andi’s ragged breathing disturbed the silence in the car. Then he inhaled, shuddering, his words merely a whisper. “Thump, thump, thump. Steady, slow, home.”
George’s gaze never left his partner, who tried for a smile. It was weak, but it was there. “Thank you, George.”
“Always, my dear.” Andi made a face at the endearment but accepted it. After he had vehemently protested the use of ‘baby’ and ‘honey’, George hadn’t dared to introduce even sweeter names like ‘sugarplum’ or ‘honeysuckle’. After an intense discussion, during which Andi had explained in great detail why he didn’t like endearments—George had already known his partner wasn’t a romantic but having perfectly innocent terms of adoration shredded by admittedly spot-on logic, had driven home the fact with a vengeance—they had compromised on ‘dear’.
George had been willing to try to forego endearments completely, but Andi had sensed how much it meant to him to be able to use them in their relationship and suggested this one since he found it less irritating than the others. George himself hadn’t been aware how important this verbal reassurance of love was to him until he had been in danger of losing the privilege to use it. Living with Andi was one epiphany after another, not all of them pleasant. He was pretty sure he could thank his parents for this one. No matter how pragmatic they were in every other aspect of their lives, they did embrace the love they had for each other wholly, including silly endearments and sometimes sickeningly sweet gestures of love—at least in the eyes of three growing boys.
