Street Rules

by and large I'm a pretty good cop, and I can do more good on the street than off. I can't help anyone if I'm not out there. I've made choices that kept me in the game, choices that I justified for the long run. Remember what they always told you when you were a kid? It's not who wins or loses, but how you play the game? Might be true in games but it's bullshit in politics.

It's all about who wins and loses, and that's all it's about. Problem is, you and I, we're still in it for the game.'

Frank swallowed some beer. She hated the anguish on Gail's face. Wished she could wipe it away. Sonny Stitt blew Sweet and Lovely from the speakers and Frank thought, yes she is.

'You'll do the right thing, Gay. Whatever that is for you.'

Gail nodded glumly.

'God! I hate this!' She ran her fingers through her hair, insisting, 'I can't do it. I'll hate myself forever if I do. Goddamn it. But what about you?'

Frank lifted a shoulder.

'I'm not going any farther in my career than I already am. Surprised I made it this far, actually. If they busted me down to a DIII that wouldn't be so bad either. I could live with that. If they busted me out of the department. . . long as I get my pension, I don't know that I really care. At least not tonight.'

'I thought you were so gung-ho. Semper fi and all that malarkey.'

'I love my job. I never said I loved who I work for.'

'I thought you worked for the people.'

'That's true,' Frank allowed. She studied the slim head on her beer and Gail said, 'So I tell him no. There. The decision's made.'

Gail snapped her fingers.

'Two brilliant careers over just like that.'

'Ain't over 'til it's over,' Frank smiled tiredly.

'Well however it turns out, thanks for listening. You're a good sounding board, you know that?'

'It's my job, ma'am.'

'Hey, did you get my message last night? About Don Giovanni?'

'Yeah. Sounds dope.'

'Dope?' Gail said wagging her head. 'You've been on the streets far too long.'

'Yeah. I need me some cult-cha.'

'I'll give you cult-cha. Can I have a sip of that?' she asked, jutting her chin at the Corona. Frank slid it to her.

'How was your day?'

'Don't ask.'

'It couldn't have been worse than mine,' Gail said smugly.

'Don't count on it,' Frank said, and Gail gradually wheedled the past forty-hours out of Frank.

'You know,' Frank decided. 'It's not even Ike so much. Yeah, that hurts, that one of my own men did this. I hate it but on some level I can even understand it. He's lost a few nuts. Something's rattling around loose in his head when it should be bolted down tight. Maybe he didn't come back from 'Nam right, I don't know. A lot of guys didn't.

'But the thing that gets me, is the institution. You know, I wanted to be a cop because my uncle was. I heard all his stories and I believed in good guys triumphing over bad guys. I believed that shit. And then when — well, some other things happened and I really believed that I had to be a cop, that I had to go out there and make a difference like my Uncle Al did. So I joined the force, swallowed the pabulum they fed us in the academy, and for a while I believed that our mission truly was 'To Protect and Serve'. Yeah, some bad things happened, but by and large I thought the LAPD was founded on good, solid values, that when push came to shove we'd do the right thing.

'Even today, until Nelson told me to let this go, I still believed they'd come through. I still believed they'd do the right thing. And that they didn't is killing me. No one gives a flying fuck about the Estrellas. They're just dopers out of the barrio. And I know it's that way, I'm not stupid. You don't spend seventeen years on the force and not know that it's all about the department. But when it comes to something like this, something really big, you always hope that someone'll do the right thing. That just this one time they'll do the right thing.

'And of course they didn't. Ike probably gets nothing worse than a boot off the force. My squad's coming apart at the seams. My own men think I'm a cheese-eater, and eight people are dead. And the fucking dog. And you know what the worst thing about all this is? As bad as all this shit is, the worst was having to go to Claudia's today and tell her there was nothing I could do. I couldn't even say how sorry I was, because she'd known all along what I couldn't — or wouldn't — believe.'

Frank waved her empty beer.

'I'm babbling, doc. Sorry.'

'No, don't be,' Gail consoled. She reached for Frank's hand. 'It's good for you. You need to talk this out. Keep talking.'

Frank studied the crow's feet around Gail's eyes, the high cheekbones, and the little ear peeking out behind the shiny, dark hair. There were some wisps of gray at her temples that Frank hadn't noticed and she wondered if the doc touched them up.

'No,' Frank said. 'I think what I need right now is for you to dance with me.'

She stepped around the counter and held her hand out to Gail.

'Would you do that?'

Gail took the offered hand, smiling, 'You bet.'

Frank held her lightly, but close. She inhaled the familiar peach shampoo, and underneath it, a dim, sexy scent that was uniquely, arousingly Gail's.

'I'm a horrible dancer,' Gail warned into Frank's shoulder.

'Me too.'

The song ended, but Frank kept leading, until Dexter's trumpet moaned into Round Midnight. Checking her watch, she joked, 'They're playing our song.'

'I didn't know we had a song.'

'We do now.'

'Meaning what, copper?'

'Meaning this.'

Frank bent her lips to Gail's, lingering over them. They kept dancing, their lips exploring the others, until Frank traced hers along Gail's jaw, under the hollow beneath, on down the smooth and creamy silk of her throat. They moved together closely, dancing until they weren't following the music anymore but rather the rhythm of their own longing. When their lips parted for a moment, Frank whispered, 'Stay.'

Gail seemed reluctant, explaining, 'This isn't how I planned it.'

'How'd you plan it?' Frank teased gently. 'Was I even in it?'

'Most definitely,' Gail shined.

'So tell me how this should go.'

Pressed together, ostensibly dancing, Gail said, 'Well, first of all it was at my place. There'd be music — which we have — and lots of candles, and wine, and I wouldn't have just been blackmailed by the mayor and coming home from work. I'd be clean and lovely and in some very sexy but unrevealing slinky thing from Victoria's Secret.'

'Hm. Well, I have candles and I have wine. And I can't do anything about the mayor, but I do have a shower and a clean T-shirt.'

Gail laughed and Frank murmured, 'Could that possibly be close enough?'

The doc pressed into Frank and didn't answer. They danced amid saxophones and tinkling pianos while Frank ached for Gail.

'I'm scared,' the doc finally admitted.

'Of what?' Frank asked, not loosening her arms. She felt Gail take in a full breath, heard her say, 'Of what