Black or White

Chapter 29 )( We Avoid Babylon, When We Have a Choice

   Marcus had indeed sent him the pysch course; it was the only thing he had sent in the month passed. To say that Dan was a bit stressed would have been appropriate – with starting a new class for the first time in years, his nerves about the police and his anxiety about his and Marcus' relationship, it was very appropriate. The attempted talk with Marcus added a crack to Dan's newfound resolve. The very real thought that he would lose a close friend because of a job, made something inside of him jittery. Dan would not lie to himself, he felt an itch to patch things up as he always did, but he had his priorities.

For most of the next month, Dan spent his time between the three police stations in the city. The east and west police stations were practically the same as the southern one, only more polished. Dan should have guessed just from appearance but it took three failed fake report fillings for it to become apparent that they dealt with higher end crimes – fitting their higher paid demographic. By the last week of April all his attention was focused on the south police department.

His days became repetitive. Mornings and some afternoons were spent in his apartment doing his course work and the rest of his time passed in front of or inside the Southern police precinct. Along with his anxiety around police and his analysis skills improving, split concentration seemed to have developed into a semi skill. People usually lingered outside the precinct, if not at the shops which surrounded it they stayed for the building itself, and Dan made a habit of making conversation with them. It would be odd to just stand and watch police all day, someone was bound to notice.

Someone might have been the officer he had spoken to on his first trip there. She noticed him once about two weeks after their first interaction, another time a week and a half later and then again at the month's end. One afternoon Dan walked to the building as he usually did and as he passed the front doors he saw her there, eyes on his trail. His skin prickled; he left soon afterward. The next time he came by too, he stood outside the precinct for a little less than 2 hours before he saw her in one of the front windows, attention on him like a main event.

Safe to say, Dan had to catch himself before he let his routine shift by avoiding the precinct altogether. Instead he took a deep breath and a filling breakfast before he dragged himself there.

Despite the unease he felt, he hoped that maybe – if he had suddenly become lucky – just maybe, she would just watch and eventually lose interest. He hoped in vain.

He was at the front of the precinct, beside the steps, eyeing a cop he had his eye on for a few days when she stuck.

"Why are you here every day?" Dan would like to say that she jumped him – so that's what she did. He turned to the officer on the steps and his mind drew a blank as he looked up at her. Then the afternoon sun glared in his eye, as if telling him not to mess this up.

"Hmm? Me? Oh I just," he licked his lip, "like the area." He covered his eyes as the glare of the sun worsened.

The officer's 'That's bull' face could not be hidden from.

"That's a lie. Why are you here?" Dan looked to his left and found the coffee shop.

"The coffee. I like the coffee." He could feel the burn of forthcoming slap across his forehead once he got home.

"I've never seen you go into that shop." 'Think, for your own sake, think Dan.'

"As yes, I – wait why are you watching me? That's creepy."

"I have every right to watch a suspicious person working outside my workplace. Please just answer the question truthfully, I have work to get back to and you are wasting my time."

She had a valid point, which is what Dan did not want. Why the hell had Dan been outside the southern police precinct every day for the past three weeks? Seeing as he spent many afternoons on edge about someone realizing what he was doing, he should have had an excuse prepared. The thing is, with all that had taken place in his life over that time – if compared, it was not much but for him it was a lot - his anxieties and stresses preceded importance over his preparations.

The officer still stared at him, he needed to give her an answer, one that made sense. It lit up in him then, the best lies have a little bit of truth to season them.

"I'm looking for someone."

Her tight expression told him she did not believe him before her lips even began to move.

"Every day for almost two weeks straight? They're not coming, so I suggest you don't come back unless you have a crime to report." Her eyes flit to the police car parked in front of the steps, then her head jerked in its direction. "Or maybe you'll be in one of those." She huffed and turned away, ready to walk but she repositions to face Dan again. Her features stay tight except they look less strained and more restrained. "Who exactly were you looking for?"

Dan's throat closed around his sigh of relief. He kept his breath steady and doubled the effort he put into thinking of another lie.

Truths in a lie were supposed to work, not get him into more trouble. He kept his head forward, fought the urge to let it spin in search of someone, even something, to pin his lie on. Someone the officer can't question, or someone to inspire the made up person he showed up looking for three weeks in a row. He kept his head straight, eyes on her, she was the only thing he could see and he could hear the sparks flying and wires snapping in his ear along with the summer wind. He could try again?

"You." The prophcied burn of his hand against his forehead stung just a little bit more. He continued regardless. "I wanted to – well to ask you if you – would you want to go out with me?" He heard a laugh in the back of his mind, if they were on better terms he assumed it would be Mara if he ever told his about this.

His parents should have taught their children the art of lieing; maybe then he would know how to stay afloat in a sea of lies instead of drowning like he was then.

The officer's face returned to what it had been before, fighting frustration and annoyance. She let out a huge sigh before she rejected him.

"So you were the one stalking me and had the audacity to judge me for it." Not immediate rejection, ok.

"Well," he cleared his throat, "I was not stalking you, I just happened to come by every day and notice you. Like you did with me out the front window."

"Don't relate us, what I did was a reaction to you being here." She crossed her arms, pushed against the cavity of her mouth to make a round in her cheek. She sighed again, much smaller than the last. "Do not let me see you here again. Leave." Then she turned and climbed her way back to the front door.

Dan exhaled, alleviating the pressure in his throat. He spun and went in a hurry away from the precinct, his intestines braiding and unbraiding themselves as he did.

Eventually, he walked through the door of his apartment; he slammed the door shut and huffed against it.

As his breaths evened out he comforted his thumping heart. It was bad, he knew, but it was not that bad. A the end of it all she had left him alone with only a warning, sure the lead up deserved the slap he would give himself once he leaned off the door but the end mattered most. The ending, which included him asking her on a date on a panicked impulse; and her, he realized, not telling him no.

He exhaled again, he did not mess things up, he had no plans to do so either if the time arose again.

His shoulders slumped. That was enoughstressful situations for one day. He turned around; that's when hesimultaneously felt his intestines braid then wrap around his throat and hiseyes widen as he saw the back of a woman with white hair sitting on his couch.