Fic: Standard Deviation, Chapter 4B
Author's Notes: When I wrote this, I didn't anticipate the chapter being this long. I chose the best place I could to break it up into two parts, but it's still a little jarring. Apologies for this - there wasn't much I could do. Onwards with the end of the story!
Disclaimer: Nope. Still not mine. Boo.
Chapter | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4A | 4B |
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“You know that whatever you hear in this room is between you, me and these four walls, correct? That I’m only doing this because you need to understand your partner and what makes him tick if I’m going to have any prayer of keeping you two from killing each other, right?” Pike asked his young officer, the questions more rhetorical than actual.
“Yeah, sure. I get it. Look, Lieu. I just want to know if I fucked up. Bones is a pretty good guy, and his shit’s in the right place. He’s a little stiff and rough around the edges, but when you get down to it, he’s pretty harmless,” Jim concluded. Aggravated, he added, “And, I wish I knew why this whole thing with him bothers me so much. It shouldn’t, but it does.”
The longtime cop couldn’t hold back the smile that spread across his face. “It’s because you care, Jim. Despite what you want people to believe, you’re concerned about the people around you. It’s another quality I saw in you that I thought would make you a good cop. Even if the majority of the public doesn’t believe it, we do like doing things that doesn’t involve tossing people in jail, and it’s important that we find officers who share that mentality,” Pike replied. “What I saw in you, I also saw that in your partner.”
Kirk barked a laugh, incredulous when he processed Pike’s words. “You’re telling me,” he started, motioning to his chest, “That Bones and I share personality traits? Come on! That’s bunk! We couldn’t be more different.”
“At first glance, you might be right. But, if you stop and think about it, you two do share a couple of common traits while being vastly different all at the same time,” Pike said.
Jim scrunched up his face in confusion and leaned back casually in his chair, practically becoming one with the inanimate object providing support for his body. “How? Enlighten me, oh great master.”
Pike responded by rolling his eyes at Jim’s cheesy, overdone, Asian accent before he steeled his face. “Let me put it to you bluntly, Jim: your impulsiveness worries me.” The lieutenant put his hand up to stop Kirk’s inevitable retort before it could get going. “Just wait. As concerning as your leap before looking attitude is, I wasn’t just bullshitting you when I said it’s also a quality I think this department needs. It gives you ingenuity and a way to think outside the box, and it keeps you fresh. But, I also know enough to distinguish the fact that it could get you into some big time trouble one day. And that is why I gave you McCoy as your training officer. His job is to keep you from killing yourself, and to whip you into a good cop along the way.”
“Okay, that’s fair,” Jim acknowledged, counting the times mentally that McCoy already saved his ass. He turned in his chair and crossed his legs. “But what does that have to do with my partner going all stony silent on me?”
Pike sighed and took another drink of his coffee. “One of the things Len learned really well was the tactical game of this job. He knows, better than just about anyone here, how to work the odds in his favor. Do you really think that he just waltzes into every situation on a wing and a prayer like you do?” Pike asked when Jim’s face knit up in confusion. “As I said, there’s a reason he’s your FTO. He’s thinking every second of every day what the odds are of someone getting hurt, weighing the risks to the public’s safety and to your safety when he tells you to do something. The fact that you don’t follow those rules, that you’re so different and that you just go - it concerns him, even more than it does me. So when you didn’t stop today when he told you to break off pursuit, I could see that it scared him.”
Kirk rolled his eyes. “So what? Why the hell would that concept scare him? It would have been my ass if I’d fallen off that building today, and if I did, I was dumb enough to have deserved it.”
“Listen to what I’m saying. It’s not. It’s not just your ass. It’s his, too, but not in the way you’re thinking,” Pike replied. He exhaled, long and hard and ran a hand through his hair. “I want to tell you a little story, Jim, so humor an old cop and just shut up and listen. About four years ago, maybe a little more, there were these two cops. They’d ridden together for a long time; one trained the other, and the chief had no intention of ever splitting them up because they were really effective as a pair. Between the two, they had the respect of their fellow officers, their superiors and the community. Even though the younger guy was smart and comparatively logical, he still worried the older one from time to time. But for years, the fears of the senior cop were unfounded.”
Jim’s eyes narrowed as he watched Pike expand on his narrative. The lieutenant leaned back in his chair, his eyes losing focus and drifting off into space as he lost himself in the story. But while Pike’s vision may have been nonspecific, the emotions rolling over his face were not. He saw the barest hint of smile flirt with Pike’s lips before it disappeared just as quickly. “But something happened,” Kirk supplied.
Taking a drink of his coffee, Pike nodded grimly. “One normal, run-of-the-mill night, they were asked to provide perimeter support to a team of narcotics officers serving a search warrant on a suspected drug stash house. The boys from Narco did their homework, and they knew that there was supposed to be a large shipment of coke at the residence that night, straight from Mexico. According to their CI, there was a small window during which the house would be occupied thinly, and that’s when the team set up their op. But when they got there, they realized that either their intel was wrong, or their CI turned on them. When they busted down the door, they discovered the house was full of people, all of whom bolted as soon as the ram hit the door. The warrant squad managed to keep most of the suspects in the house, but two males sitting closest to the back door managed to make it outside. They high tailed it away from the house and toward the perimeter the two uniformed officers were assigned to hold. Of course, they both gave chase.”
Kirk swallowed back the lump the suddenly jumped into his throat. He knew this story. Well, he knew the scuttlebutt version of it, but he’d never heard the real deal. As a rookie, he also felt like he didn’t have the right to ask either of the two people that had the first-hand knowledge: Pike and McCoy. It was visceral to hear it from one of the sources, and Jim realized that maybe he didn’t want to know what happened the night he heard McCoy was nearly killed. But, if Pike deemed it important enough to tell him something so personal, he would allow it, however hard it might actually be to hear.
“Len and I split up when the people they were chasing went separate ways. I followed the street level dealer while McCoy went after an unknown male,” Pike recalled, voice flat and clinical. It was like he was narrating a how-to on the proper way to change the bag on a vacuum cleaner, instead of talking about what was probably one of the most traumatic events of his career. So deeply engrossed in the story, he didn’t realize he’d slipped into memoir mode. “What they didn’t realize was that the guy McCoy was chasing was the supplier’s supplier, who was also wanted for three murders in two different states, along with a slew of trafficking and money laundering charges. He was a big, angry motherfucker, and he wasn’t going to go back to prison.”
Jim exhaled a shaky breath he didn’t realize he was holding in. Even with the best planning and all the information and the contingency sketches, how quickly life could go to shit was a testament to the dangers of law enforcement as a profession. It was something Kirk tried to remember daily, and as he listened to Pike tell his story, he started to realize that he was glad McCoy drilled that fact into his thick skull each and every day.
“I caught the previously ID’ed dealer fairly quickly. The warrant team was still occupied inside the house, so the only man left to catch was the guy Len was after. I cuffed my collar and was rounding the corner with him in tow when he heard a struggle coming from the yard of an adjacent house. I shoved the guy in the nearest car and ran around the side of the house in time to see the bigger suspect knee McCoy full force in the side of the head. You know how hard Len’s head is, but that knee stunned him long enough the supplier to grab onto the holster on his duty rig and rip the gun off his body. He aimed it at McCoy and managed to squeeze off four rounds, all at point blank range.”
Pike paused, biting his lip while he swallowed hard a couple of times. A set of shaky hands picked up the mug of coffee sitting on the corner of the desk. The lieutenant took a swig, grimacing at the bitter taste of the liquid as he swallowed. Setting the mug down, he continued, reserved and almost quiet. “I drew my weapon, and without conscious thought, fired eight rounds while the suspect advanced on me. Six of those were hits. One lucky shot pierced the guy’s heart, and he was dead almost before he hit the ground. It’s the only time I’ve used it in my entire career.”
“Damn good shooting,” Kirk found himself muttering almost on instinct. Pike, if he heard it, made no acknowledgement. Jim licked his lips, the million-dollar question burning in his mind. With trepidation, he asked, “And Bones?”
“McCoy’s vest caught two of the three rounds. The third grazed his face and ricocheted off the ground. The fourth missed the Kevlar and hit him right under the collarbone. It went straight through and lodged in the house behind him. Typical of your partner - he was shot and bleeding, and he tried to get up to make sure no one in the house was hurt from the gunfire.”
Kirk snorted. “And I’m the one who’s nuts? What the hell? Did he not notice the fragments of metal and new holes in his body that aren’t supposed to be there?”
“Apparently not.”
Kirk sighed. “Bones was lucky that night. Someone was watching out for him.”
“Yes he was, in more ways than one. I read the autopsy report afterwards on the guy I…shot,” the lieutenant said, hesitating as he tried to find wording that didn’t make him uncomfortable. “He was so strung out on PCP, I was surprised he could hold a gun steady, let alone fire it. It’s what saved Len’s life. Ironic, huh? The stuff we go there to clean up is what ends up saving your partner,” Pike said with a sad, regretful chuckle.
Jim felt his chest constrict painfully when saw the anguished look in Pike’s eyes. The lieutenant’s normally rock steady hands trembled nearly imperceptibly, but the chatter of the Chris’ wedding ring against the hard surface of the desk gave him away. Kirk exhaled, closing his eyes as every cop’s worst nightmare played out behind his eyelids. When he opened his eyes again, he took a deep, calming breath and forced his gaze to meet his superior’s. “You had to shoot, Lieu. That guy would have killed Bones if you would have given him another second.”
“I know that, Kirk. It doesn’t make taking someone’s life, even a lowlife piece of shit like that, any easier,” Pike answered, scrubbing one hand over his face. “It’s something I wish I didn’t have to do, but at the same time, I knew it had to be done. I’m not proud of it, despite what people think. I did it to save McCoy, and for no other reason.”
There was an empty platitude on the tip of Jim’s tongue, but he wisely held it back. Undoubtedly, Pike heard them all, and then some. Clearly, the incident still haunted the lieutenant, and Jim wasn’t foolish enough to think that he could make it better with a couple of well placed words. Instead, he settled for honesty when he said seriously, “I’m glad you did.” Smirking, he added, “I mean, if you hadn’t, you might be stuck with me right now!” Jim said in an attempt to lighten the mood.
Pike snorted in response, glad for the sudden influx of levity to an otherwise bleak story. “I think I’d have rather shot myself.”
“Oh, come on, Lieu. You recruited me, so I can’t be that bad.”
“I recruited you for someone else to train. I’ve done my civic duty by babysitting the new cops,” Pike fired right back, grinning over his coffee mug.
“Yeah, okay. I’ll spot you that.” Jim leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “But in all seriousness, why tell me this? It’s not that I don’t appreciate the information because I do, but I don’t get what this has to do with me and Bones not getting along.”
“Call it a bit of forced déjà vu, or some comeuppance for your partner. Of all the people here, McCoy is hardest on himself. That stoic, enigmatic front you see from him every day hides a lot, mainly uncertainty about how well he thinks he can do his job. He’s human, Kirk, subject to the same insecurities and fallibility as you and I. But, he’s just had more practice at hiding it,” Pike said before snapping his jaw closed. “He’s taken your training very seriously, and your safety is his paramount concern. He will do everything in his power to make sure you come home every night. If that means he has to give you the silent treatment to keep from killing you himself, he’ll do just that. Risk to you and the community versus reward, Kirk. That’s what he’s thinking about.”
Jim sat, digesting the information Pike gave him. The picture was beginning to come more into focus. “So, when I disobeyed him tonight, he’s not mad because I wouldn’t listen, he was pissed because threw another X factor into the mix?”
“Exactly.”
Kirk shook his head, trying to make sense of the information he was being given. “Lieu, don’t get me wrong - it’s awesome he thinks of me this way, but we’re cops. There’s not exactly a whole element of control we have in our jobs. We’re reactionary and what we do and how we respond is dictated by the criminals we’re chasing.”
Pike took sip of his coffee. “Yes, but when you didn’t stop, you took out the one little bit of control he had over the situation.”
“That’s what this is about. Control,” Kirk stated.
Pike nodded. “Partially, but it’s definitely not everything.”
In an instant, everything clicked in Jim’s head. All the pieces of the puzzle fell neatly into place, and with it, Kirk had the understanding of McCoy he was seeking. He looked Pike in the eye and held the older man’s gaze while he made it apparent he was crystal clear. “This was never about me, was it? It’s about him being afraid. He’s worried that I’m going to do something crazy that’s going to get me killed, and after it’s all done, he’ll spend the rest of his life wondering what he should have done differently to prevent it,” Kirk hypothesized, just cutting off the, ‘As you would have,’ that was about to tumble out of his mouth towards the man seated opposite him.
Chris chugged the remaining half of his coffee, sat back and smiled. Jim just hit every single point he was hoping to make. “I’ve got to get back to work, and you should go home. Get out of here, Kirk.”
“Yeah, that would probably be a good idea. The TiVo is calling me, and the IA Gestapo beckons you. I mean, I have to ask: do you think Spock’s human, because he’s like a machine,” Jim said, eyeing the piles of papers that were not magically shrinking. Kirk sat and contemplated for a few extra moments. But instead of rising to his feet and making his way out of the lieutenant’s hair, he reached across the desk and picked up Pike’s iPod. “Can I ask you something, Lieu?”
“You can ask. I might not answer.”
When Kirk went through Pike’s iPod, he was really surprised to see everything from Evanescence to War on in the selection. But, as he thought about it, the little pieces started to fit, even if they had shock value up front. He powered the small black MP3 player up and skipped to a miniature playlist stuck between the workout music and calming sounds. He held up the iPod, making sure the list was visible to his superior. “You know, there was one playlist in here that made no sense to me whatsoever. It had a bunch of random stuff on it, from 3 Doors Down to Johnny Cash, though I did like ‘Take This Job and Shove It.’ I thought at first that there was no rhyme or reason for it, but now I get it. These are all about him, aren’t they? About Bones, right?”
Pike’s lip curled up in exasperation. He reached across his desk and snatched his property from Kirk’s startled hands, growling when Jim held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Give me that, Jim. It’s none of your damned business anyway.” Pike scrolled through quickly to make sure all the songs were still there. He put a lot of thought into the music he felt best described his former partner, and the eclecticism of each selection was meant to reflect a piece of the multifaceted personality Len worked so hard to hide. It would be a pain in the ass to have to repopulate the thing from scratch.
“Okay, okay,” Kirk laughed. “Easy there, Killer.”
Pike pursed his lips and pointed one finger at Kirk. “I’m glad you didn’t screw with this too badly, and that nothing’s missing. I’d feel horrible for you if I my missing playlists would force me to tape the screen captures I’ve got of your most played songs to the announcement board,” he said, deadpanned. “You know, because the nearly dozen plays of ‘Dragosta Din Tei’ is so appropriate for a cop like yourself.”
Kirk threw his head back and laughed out loud, completely unruffled by his boss’ threat. Instead of sputtering or backpedaling like most macho cops, Jim slapped his hand down on the desk and said, “Do not knock Romania. That song is awesome.”
Pike sat back in his chair, twisting the end of the pen he was holding between the thumb and forefinger of each hand. “I thought your lack of shame was an urban legend. The fact you don’t know what embarrassment is actually scares me. Now get the hell out of here and go get some rest.”
“Yes, sir. I think I can do that now.” Jim stood and leap frogged his way to the door. When he reached the threshold, he turned, and tapping his fingers on the doorframe, said, “So, should I start calling him Rainman now, with all the odds predictions?”
Pike smiled slyly. “No, that doesn’t work. Believe me. I tried.”
“Duly noted, Lieutenant.” Heartfelt, Kirk added, “Thank you sir, for all of this. I think it was overdue.”
“It was Jim, but I’m glad it wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be,” Pike answered, clearly catching Jim’s double entendre. “My own experiences with McCoy aside, it wouldn’t be fair for either of you, and I’d hate to lose you guys. You’re both good cops, but don’t you dare let that go to your head. I don’t need it to be any bigger than it already is.”
“Right,” Jim replied, thinking of the thousands of ways his partnership with Bones could have gone spectacularly nuclear. He was glad their relationship wasn’t about to come to that point. Kirk grabbed his jacket from its place on the floor and took one step out the door before Pike’s voice stopped him.
“Oh, Kirk?” Pike asked, watching as Kirk halted, one foot hanging up in the air. The young cop executed an about face and looked his superior in the eye.
“Yeah?” Jim replied, spinning the top of his helmet in the palm of his right hand.
“He wouldn’t act like this unless he really liked you. Remember that.”
Jim nodded his head and strode silently out the front door of the station. The conversation with Pike gave him a lot to think about, and he needed to clear his head. Jim hopped on his bike and pulled out of the lot, heading back toward his apartment. He exited off the freeway and hit some of his favorite offbeat country roads, relishing in the sensation of the wind rushing through the vents in his helmet. While he rode, he felt all the aggravations and stress from his day start to melt away as he zipped along. Even though roads in the Midwest weren’t exactly twisty, just the fact he was zooming past the corn on a motorcycle was enough for him. Kirk let his mind go blank as he focused only the ride, dipping and weaving when he could for the maximum effect.
He wasn’t sure how long he was riding, but he knew that it wasn’t a short trip. Kirk filled up with gas on the way into the station in the afternoon, but the flashing orange warning light on the dash caught his attention. He pulled off at the nearest station and gave the thirsty machine some much needed fuel, resetting the trip odometer at the same time. One hundred and twenty six miles in a single day was a nice ride for any motorcyclist. It was especially impressive for a full-on sportbike that wasn’t as comfortable as say, a Honda Goldwing.
Kirk looked around and neatly realized where he was. If he headed west about a mile, he would be at Bones’ apartment. And after his conversation with Pike, Kirk would be lying if he weren’t at least slightly concerned about his partner. Clearly, there was a lot more to Leonard McCoy than Kirk thought, but he also could say the same about himself. He also knew that sometimes, Bones would retreat to the comfort of a bottle when he needed to escape, and Kirk sincerely hoped that tonight wasn’t one of those nights.
Since he was already out in the vicinity of McCoy’s home, Kirk figured he could just swing by and offer the olive branch of peace. If the feeling he got from Pike was true, making the first move was hard for Bones, especially when it involved matters of mortality. For Jim, it wasn’t a big deal, and if it got him a happier partner, it’d be just an extra bonus.
Jim jammed his helmet back on his head and took off in the direction of McCoy’s apartment. He pulled into the lot, for the first (and probably only) time cursing the loud, throaty growl of the exhaust on his bike. The sound was echoing off the twin buildings, and he was sure the entire neighborhood just heard him pull up. But as he searched for a place to park, Jim caught sight of a familiar Tahoe in the space next to Bones’ old winter beater pickup. As he pulled closer to the black SUV, he saw two stickers in the back window that he instantly recognized: the Iowa City PD logo and the white ‘I Am The Stig’ decal he heard Scotty gave Pike as a joke gift a few years back.
Tilting his head to the side, Jim came to a stop and flipped his visor up. He shifted the bike into neutral and stretched his back and hands, content to let the Gixxer idle between his legs. Kirk peered up at the patio style north-facing window on the third floor, knowing that he was looking at McCoy’s living room. At almost two in the morning, it was one of the few places still illuminated in the complex. The soft glowing light that spilled from behind the blinds signified that Bones and Pike were both still awake, probably playing cards and just shooting the shit. He contemplated going up, but he knew that it was probably unnecessary. His presence might have made McCoy uncomfortable anyway, so Kirk wisely decided against it. A shower and his bed were calling, and calling loudly.
With a smile on his face Jim flipped the visor to his helmet down, pulled in the clutch, popped the bike into first gear and executed a slow U-turn to get out of the lot. Kirk revved the engine and pulled on to the deserted street. It was an oddly comforting notion to Jim that Bones had people that cared about him, despite the prickly exterior designed to keep others away.
McCoy would forever be challenging, irritating, and sometimes a major buzzkill, but Jim finally understood a little more of what made the man tick. While he had no illusions that Bones was anything other than a damned good cop, he didn’t realize how deeply the sergeant’s concern for his rookie partner went. It was humbling and almost a little scary to find how seriously McCoy took his safety, and Kirk vowed that he would, someday, someday, repay the favor. He didn’t know how, but he was damned sure he was going to find a way.
In the end, that was what partners did.
It was what friends did.
--FIN--
Disclaimer: Nope. Still not mine. Boo.
Chapter | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4A | 4B |
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“You know that whatever you hear in this room is between you, me and these four walls, correct? That I’m only doing this because you need to understand your partner and what makes him tick if I’m going to have any prayer of keeping you two from killing each other, right?” Pike asked his young officer, the questions more rhetorical than actual.
“Yeah, sure. I get it. Look, Lieu. I just want to know if I fucked up. Bones is a pretty good guy, and his shit’s in the right place. He’s a little stiff and rough around the edges, but when you get down to it, he’s pretty harmless,” Jim concluded. Aggravated, he added, “And, I wish I knew why this whole thing with him bothers me so much. It shouldn’t, but it does.”
The longtime cop couldn’t hold back the smile that spread across his face. “It’s because you care, Jim. Despite what you want people to believe, you’re concerned about the people around you. It’s another quality I saw in you that I thought would make you a good cop. Even if the majority of the public doesn’t believe it, we do like doing things that doesn’t involve tossing people in jail, and it’s important that we find officers who share that mentality,” Pike replied. “What I saw in you, I also saw that in your partner.”
Kirk barked a laugh, incredulous when he processed Pike’s words. “You’re telling me,” he started, motioning to his chest, “That Bones and I share personality traits? Come on! That’s bunk! We couldn’t be more different.”
“At first glance, you might be right. But, if you stop and think about it, you two do share a couple of common traits while being vastly different all at the same time,” Pike said.
Jim scrunched up his face in confusion and leaned back casually in his chair, practically becoming one with the inanimate object providing support for his body. “How? Enlighten me, oh great master.”
Pike responded by rolling his eyes at Jim’s cheesy, overdone, Asian accent before he steeled his face. “Let me put it to you bluntly, Jim: your impulsiveness worries me.” The lieutenant put his hand up to stop Kirk’s inevitable retort before it could get going. “Just wait. As concerning as your leap before looking attitude is, I wasn’t just bullshitting you when I said it’s also a quality I think this department needs. It gives you ingenuity and a way to think outside the box, and it keeps you fresh. But, I also know enough to distinguish the fact that it could get you into some big time trouble one day. And that is why I gave you McCoy as your training officer. His job is to keep you from killing yourself, and to whip you into a good cop along the way.”
“Okay, that’s fair,” Jim acknowledged, counting the times mentally that McCoy already saved his ass. He turned in his chair and crossed his legs. “But what does that have to do with my partner going all stony silent on me?”
Pike sighed and took another drink of his coffee. “One of the things Len learned really well was the tactical game of this job. He knows, better than just about anyone here, how to work the odds in his favor. Do you really think that he just waltzes into every situation on a wing and a prayer like you do?” Pike asked when Jim’s face knit up in confusion. “As I said, there’s a reason he’s your FTO. He’s thinking every second of every day what the odds are of someone getting hurt, weighing the risks to the public’s safety and to your safety when he tells you to do something. The fact that you don’t follow those rules, that you’re so different and that you just go - it concerns him, even more than it does me. So when you didn’t stop today when he told you to break off pursuit, I could see that it scared him.”
Kirk rolled his eyes. “So what? Why the hell would that concept scare him? It would have been my ass if I’d fallen off that building today, and if I did, I was dumb enough to have deserved it.”
“Listen to what I’m saying. It’s not. It’s not just your ass. It’s his, too, but not in the way you’re thinking,” Pike replied. He exhaled, long and hard and ran a hand through his hair. “I want to tell you a little story, Jim, so humor an old cop and just shut up and listen. About four years ago, maybe a little more, there were these two cops. They’d ridden together for a long time; one trained the other, and the chief had no intention of ever splitting them up because they were really effective as a pair. Between the two, they had the respect of their fellow officers, their superiors and the community. Even though the younger guy was smart and comparatively logical, he still worried the older one from time to time. But for years, the fears of the senior cop were unfounded.”
Jim’s eyes narrowed as he watched Pike expand on his narrative. The lieutenant leaned back in his chair, his eyes losing focus and drifting off into space as he lost himself in the story. But while Pike’s vision may have been nonspecific, the emotions rolling over his face were not. He saw the barest hint of smile flirt with Pike’s lips before it disappeared just as quickly. “But something happened,” Kirk supplied.
Taking a drink of his coffee, Pike nodded grimly. “One normal, run-of-the-mill night, they were asked to provide perimeter support to a team of narcotics officers serving a search warrant on a suspected drug stash house. The boys from Narco did their homework, and they knew that there was supposed to be a large shipment of coke at the residence that night, straight from Mexico. According to their CI, there was a small window during which the house would be occupied thinly, and that’s when the team set up their op. But when they got there, they realized that either their intel was wrong, or their CI turned on them. When they busted down the door, they discovered the house was full of people, all of whom bolted as soon as the ram hit the door. The warrant squad managed to keep most of the suspects in the house, but two males sitting closest to the back door managed to make it outside. They high tailed it away from the house and toward the perimeter the two uniformed officers were assigned to hold. Of course, they both gave chase.”
Kirk swallowed back the lump the suddenly jumped into his throat. He knew this story. Well, he knew the scuttlebutt version of it, but he’d never heard the real deal. As a rookie, he also felt like he didn’t have the right to ask either of the two people that had the first-hand knowledge: Pike and McCoy. It was visceral to hear it from one of the sources, and Jim realized that maybe he didn’t want to know what happened the night he heard McCoy was nearly killed. But, if Pike deemed it important enough to tell him something so personal, he would allow it, however hard it might actually be to hear.
“Len and I split up when the people they were chasing went separate ways. I followed the street level dealer while McCoy went after an unknown male,” Pike recalled, voice flat and clinical. It was like he was narrating a how-to on the proper way to change the bag on a vacuum cleaner, instead of talking about what was probably one of the most traumatic events of his career. So deeply engrossed in the story, he didn’t realize he’d slipped into memoir mode. “What they didn’t realize was that the guy McCoy was chasing was the supplier’s supplier, who was also wanted for three murders in two different states, along with a slew of trafficking and money laundering charges. He was a big, angry motherfucker, and he wasn’t going to go back to prison.”
Jim exhaled a shaky breath he didn’t realize he was holding in. Even with the best planning and all the information and the contingency sketches, how quickly life could go to shit was a testament to the dangers of law enforcement as a profession. It was something Kirk tried to remember daily, and as he listened to Pike tell his story, he started to realize that he was glad McCoy drilled that fact into his thick skull each and every day.
“I caught the previously ID’ed dealer fairly quickly. The warrant team was still occupied inside the house, so the only man left to catch was the guy Len was after. I cuffed my collar and was rounding the corner with him in tow when he heard a struggle coming from the yard of an adjacent house. I shoved the guy in the nearest car and ran around the side of the house in time to see the bigger suspect knee McCoy full force in the side of the head. You know how hard Len’s head is, but that knee stunned him long enough the supplier to grab onto the holster on his duty rig and rip the gun off his body. He aimed it at McCoy and managed to squeeze off four rounds, all at point blank range.”
Pike paused, biting his lip while he swallowed hard a couple of times. A set of shaky hands picked up the mug of coffee sitting on the corner of the desk. The lieutenant took a swig, grimacing at the bitter taste of the liquid as he swallowed. Setting the mug down, he continued, reserved and almost quiet. “I drew my weapon, and without conscious thought, fired eight rounds while the suspect advanced on me. Six of those were hits. One lucky shot pierced the guy’s heart, and he was dead almost before he hit the ground. It’s the only time I’ve used it in my entire career.”
“Damn good shooting,” Kirk found himself muttering almost on instinct. Pike, if he heard it, made no acknowledgement. Jim licked his lips, the million-dollar question burning in his mind. With trepidation, he asked, “And Bones?”
“McCoy’s vest caught two of the three rounds. The third grazed his face and ricocheted off the ground. The fourth missed the Kevlar and hit him right under the collarbone. It went straight through and lodged in the house behind him. Typical of your partner - he was shot and bleeding, and he tried to get up to make sure no one in the house was hurt from the gunfire.”
Kirk snorted. “And I’m the one who’s nuts? What the hell? Did he not notice the fragments of metal and new holes in his body that aren’t supposed to be there?”
“Apparently not.”
Kirk sighed. “Bones was lucky that night. Someone was watching out for him.”
“Yes he was, in more ways than one. I read the autopsy report afterwards on the guy I…shot,” the lieutenant said, hesitating as he tried to find wording that didn’t make him uncomfortable. “He was so strung out on PCP, I was surprised he could hold a gun steady, let alone fire it. It’s what saved Len’s life. Ironic, huh? The stuff we go there to clean up is what ends up saving your partner,” Pike said with a sad, regretful chuckle.
Jim felt his chest constrict painfully when saw the anguished look in Pike’s eyes. The lieutenant’s normally rock steady hands trembled nearly imperceptibly, but the chatter of the Chris’ wedding ring against the hard surface of the desk gave him away. Kirk exhaled, closing his eyes as every cop’s worst nightmare played out behind his eyelids. When he opened his eyes again, he took a deep, calming breath and forced his gaze to meet his superior’s. “You had to shoot, Lieu. That guy would have killed Bones if you would have given him another second.”
“I know that, Kirk. It doesn’t make taking someone’s life, even a lowlife piece of shit like that, any easier,” Pike answered, scrubbing one hand over his face. “It’s something I wish I didn’t have to do, but at the same time, I knew it had to be done. I’m not proud of it, despite what people think. I did it to save McCoy, and for no other reason.”
There was an empty platitude on the tip of Jim’s tongue, but he wisely held it back. Undoubtedly, Pike heard them all, and then some. Clearly, the incident still haunted the lieutenant, and Jim wasn’t foolish enough to think that he could make it better with a couple of well placed words. Instead, he settled for honesty when he said seriously, “I’m glad you did.” Smirking, he added, “I mean, if you hadn’t, you might be stuck with me right now!” Jim said in an attempt to lighten the mood.
Pike snorted in response, glad for the sudden influx of levity to an otherwise bleak story. “I think I’d have rather shot myself.”
“Oh, come on, Lieu. You recruited me, so I can’t be that bad.”
“I recruited you for someone else to train. I’ve done my civic duty by babysitting the new cops,” Pike fired right back, grinning over his coffee mug.
“Yeah, okay. I’ll spot you that.” Jim leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “But in all seriousness, why tell me this? It’s not that I don’t appreciate the information because I do, but I don’t get what this has to do with me and Bones not getting along.”
“Call it a bit of forced déjà vu, or some comeuppance for your partner. Of all the people here, McCoy is hardest on himself. That stoic, enigmatic front you see from him every day hides a lot, mainly uncertainty about how well he thinks he can do his job. He’s human, Kirk, subject to the same insecurities and fallibility as you and I. But, he’s just had more practice at hiding it,” Pike said before snapping his jaw closed. “He’s taken your training very seriously, and your safety is his paramount concern. He will do everything in his power to make sure you come home every night. If that means he has to give you the silent treatment to keep from killing you himself, he’ll do just that. Risk to you and the community versus reward, Kirk. That’s what he’s thinking about.”
Jim sat, digesting the information Pike gave him. The picture was beginning to come more into focus. “So, when I disobeyed him tonight, he’s not mad because I wouldn’t listen, he was pissed because threw another X factor into the mix?”
“Exactly.”
Kirk shook his head, trying to make sense of the information he was being given. “Lieu, don’t get me wrong - it’s awesome he thinks of me this way, but we’re cops. There’s not exactly a whole element of control we have in our jobs. We’re reactionary and what we do and how we respond is dictated by the criminals we’re chasing.”
Pike took sip of his coffee. “Yes, but when you didn’t stop, you took out the one little bit of control he had over the situation.”
“That’s what this is about. Control,” Kirk stated.
Pike nodded. “Partially, but it’s definitely not everything.”
In an instant, everything clicked in Jim’s head. All the pieces of the puzzle fell neatly into place, and with it, Kirk had the understanding of McCoy he was seeking. He looked Pike in the eye and held the older man’s gaze while he made it apparent he was crystal clear. “This was never about me, was it? It’s about him being afraid. He’s worried that I’m going to do something crazy that’s going to get me killed, and after it’s all done, he’ll spend the rest of his life wondering what he should have done differently to prevent it,” Kirk hypothesized, just cutting off the, ‘As you would have,’ that was about to tumble out of his mouth towards the man seated opposite him.
Chris chugged the remaining half of his coffee, sat back and smiled. Jim just hit every single point he was hoping to make. “I’ve got to get back to work, and you should go home. Get out of here, Kirk.”
“Yeah, that would probably be a good idea. The TiVo is calling me, and the IA Gestapo beckons you. I mean, I have to ask: do you think Spock’s human, because he’s like a machine,” Jim said, eyeing the piles of papers that were not magically shrinking. Kirk sat and contemplated for a few extra moments. But instead of rising to his feet and making his way out of the lieutenant’s hair, he reached across the desk and picked up Pike’s iPod. “Can I ask you something, Lieu?”
“You can ask. I might not answer.”
When Kirk went through Pike’s iPod, he was really surprised to see everything from Evanescence to War on in the selection. But, as he thought about it, the little pieces started to fit, even if they had shock value up front. He powered the small black MP3 player up and skipped to a miniature playlist stuck between the workout music and calming sounds. He held up the iPod, making sure the list was visible to his superior. “You know, there was one playlist in here that made no sense to me whatsoever. It had a bunch of random stuff on it, from 3 Doors Down to Johnny Cash, though I did like ‘Take This Job and Shove It.’ I thought at first that there was no rhyme or reason for it, but now I get it. These are all about him, aren’t they? About Bones, right?”
Pike’s lip curled up in exasperation. He reached across his desk and snatched his property from Kirk’s startled hands, growling when Jim held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Give me that, Jim. It’s none of your damned business anyway.” Pike scrolled through quickly to make sure all the songs were still there. He put a lot of thought into the music he felt best described his former partner, and the eclecticism of each selection was meant to reflect a piece of the multifaceted personality Len worked so hard to hide. It would be a pain in the ass to have to repopulate the thing from scratch.
“Okay, okay,” Kirk laughed. “Easy there, Killer.”
Pike pursed his lips and pointed one finger at Kirk. “I’m glad you didn’t screw with this too badly, and that nothing’s missing. I’d feel horrible for you if I my missing playlists would force me to tape the screen captures I’ve got of your most played songs to the announcement board,” he said, deadpanned. “You know, because the nearly dozen plays of ‘Dragosta Din Tei’ is so appropriate for a cop like yourself.”
Kirk threw his head back and laughed out loud, completely unruffled by his boss’ threat. Instead of sputtering or backpedaling like most macho cops, Jim slapped his hand down on the desk and said, “Do not knock Romania. That song is awesome.”
Pike sat back in his chair, twisting the end of the pen he was holding between the thumb and forefinger of each hand. “I thought your lack of shame was an urban legend. The fact you don’t know what embarrassment is actually scares me. Now get the hell out of here and go get some rest.”
“Yes, sir. I think I can do that now.” Jim stood and leap frogged his way to the door. When he reached the threshold, he turned, and tapping his fingers on the doorframe, said, “So, should I start calling him Rainman now, with all the odds predictions?”
Pike smiled slyly. “No, that doesn’t work. Believe me. I tried.”
“Duly noted, Lieutenant.” Heartfelt, Kirk added, “Thank you sir, for all of this. I think it was overdue.”
“It was Jim, but I’m glad it wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be,” Pike answered, clearly catching Jim’s double entendre. “My own experiences with McCoy aside, it wouldn’t be fair for either of you, and I’d hate to lose you guys. You’re both good cops, but don’t you dare let that go to your head. I don’t need it to be any bigger than it already is.”
“Right,” Jim replied, thinking of the thousands of ways his partnership with Bones could have gone spectacularly nuclear. He was glad their relationship wasn’t about to come to that point. Kirk grabbed his jacket from its place on the floor and took one step out the door before Pike’s voice stopped him.
“Oh, Kirk?” Pike asked, watching as Kirk halted, one foot hanging up in the air. The young cop executed an about face and looked his superior in the eye.
“Yeah?” Jim replied, spinning the top of his helmet in the palm of his right hand.
“He wouldn’t act like this unless he really liked you. Remember that.”
Jim nodded his head and strode silently out the front door of the station. The conversation with Pike gave him a lot to think about, and he needed to clear his head. Jim hopped on his bike and pulled out of the lot, heading back toward his apartment. He exited off the freeway and hit some of his favorite offbeat country roads, relishing in the sensation of the wind rushing through the vents in his helmet. While he rode, he felt all the aggravations and stress from his day start to melt away as he zipped along. Even though roads in the Midwest weren’t exactly twisty, just the fact he was zooming past the corn on a motorcycle was enough for him. Kirk let his mind go blank as he focused only the ride, dipping and weaving when he could for the maximum effect.
He wasn’t sure how long he was riding, but he knew that it wasn’t a short trip. Kirk filled up with gas on the way into the station in the afternoon, but the flashing orange warning light on the dash caught his attention. He pulled off at the nearest station and gave the thirsty machine some much needed fuel, resetting the trip odometer at the same time. One hundred and twenty six miles in a single day was a nice ride for any motorcyclist. It was especially impressive for a full-on sportbike that wasn’t as comfortable as say, a Honda Goldwing.
Kirk looked around and neatly realized where he was. If he headed west about a mile, he would be at Bones’ apartment. And after his conversation with Pike, Kirk would be lying if he weren’t at least slightly concerned about his partner. Clearly, there was a lot more to Leonard McCoy than Kirk thought, but he also could say the same about himself. He also knew that sometimes, Bones would retreat to the comfort of a bottle when he needed to escape, and Kirk sincerely hoped that tonight wasn’t one of those nights.
Since he was already out in the vicinity of McCoy’s home, Kirk figured he could just swing by and offer the olive branch of peace. If the feeling he got from Pike was true, making the first move was hard for Bones, especially when it involved matters of mortality. For Jim, it wasn’t a big deal, and if it got him a happier partner, it’d be just an extra bonus.
Jim jammed his helmet back on his head and took off in the direction of McCoy’s apartment. He pulled into the lot, for the first (and probably only) time cursing the loud, throaty growl of the exhaust on his bike. The sound was echoing off the twin buildings, and he was sure the entire neighborhood just heard him pull up. But as he searched for a place to park, Jim caught sight of a familiar Tahoe in the space next to Bones’ old winter beater pickup. As he pulled closer to the black SUV, he saw two stickers in the back window that he instantly recognized: the Iowa City PD logo and the white ‘I Am The Stig’ decal he heard Scotty gave Pike as a joke gift a few years back.
Tilting his head to the side, Jim came to a stop and flipped his visor up. He shifted the bike into neutral and stretched his back and hands, content to let the Gixxer idle between his legs. Kirk peered up at the patio style north-facing window on the third floor, knowing that he was looking at McCoy’s living room. At almost two in the morning, it was one of the few places still illuminated in the complex. The soft glowing light that spilled from behind the blinds signified that Bones and Pike were both still awake, probably playing cards and just shooting the shit. He contemplated going up, but he knew that it was probably unnecessary. His presence might have made McCoy uncomfortable anyway, so Kirk wisely decided against it. A shower and his bed were calling, and calling loudly.
With a smile on his face Jim flipped the visor to his helmet down, pulled in the clutch, popped the bike into first gear and executed a slow U-turn to get out of the lot. Kirk revved the engine and pulled on to the deserted street. It was an oddly comforting notion to Jim that Bones had people that cared about him, despite the prickly exterior designed to keep others away.
McCoy would forever be challenging, irritating, and sometimes a major buzzkill, but Jim finally understood a little more of what made the man tick. While he had no illusions that Bones was anything other than a damned good cop, he didn’t realize how deeply the sergeant’s concern for his rookie partner went. It was humbling and almost a little scary to find how seriously McCoy took his safety, and Kirk vowed that he would, someday, someday, repay the favor. He didn’t know how, but he was damned sure he was going to find a way.
In the end, that was what partners did.
It was what friends did.
--FIN--