Inamorata

Chapter Thirty - As Sparrows Eagles

"I assure you I did," he said, holding his hands up as if to placate her. "Now, I'm supposed to be in here inspecting Rose for any latent flaws that might have showed up. That has happened before, you know, and the Corporation finds if very expensive to have to get rid of the flawed one and replace it free of charge-" he said, but Rose, her face pale, cut him off.

"What?" she whispered.

Nightingale reached over and rubbed Rose's shoulder soothingly, nodding at Hank to go on.

"Anyway, I'm supposed to be in here checking Rose, which doesn't take very long. That means I should be going about...now," he said, turning his wrist up to frown at his watch. Standing abruptly, he went over to the door. However, he paused.

"Something else on your mind, Hank?" asked Nightingale, letting a sneer slip onto her face. It was a dose of delicious freedom to be able to snipe at Hank, the man who had, for so many years, represented her enslavement.

"Yeah," he said, shrugging at her expression. "You know your little fan? Michael Castleman?"

Nightingale bristled to hear him addressed with such a tone. "Yes?" she growled.

"Well, he's turned out to be quite the little boy wonder. Been feeding us information. Detective Beckett said I ought to tell you that," he said. Not even allowing Nightingale to smile at him in happiness, he left the room.

So Nightingale was left to grin smugly at Rose as the pair of them sat back down and continued their lesson. It was a weight off Nightingale's already-heavy spirits to know that Michael, at least, was proving to be the good man she'd always seen.

The afternoon flew by due to the sunny moods of Nightingale and Rose. The pair of them laughed, read in French, and otherwise enjoyed themselves. When cheeks and her sides began to hurt late in the day, Nightingale at first wondered why.

And then she realized it - it was because she was smiling and laughing so much. She'd never been so lighthearted in her life before.

Of course, that idea only made her smile more.

However, her smile faded the moment she stepped into the Club. Whe Nightingale saw David waiting that night, she was not surprised at the livid expression on his face. He was making no attempt to behave as the other clients did, what with their whooping and cheering and attempts to grope her. He was simply glaring at her as though she'd done him some great, personal wrong.

Which she supposed she had.

"Why does Detective Beckett look so angry?" asked Sparkle. Nightingale, after having been quickly abandoned by Rose in favour of Clarence - upon whom the girl was fawning - was instead in the company of Glitter, Sparkle, and Emerald.

"He always looks angry," snapped Nightingale. Her good mood was entirely gone, utterly soured by David's churlishness.

Emerald smiled. "Now you look angry, Gale," she said. "Why?"

Nightingale did not respond except to grunt. "I'm going over to him," she said. Without further ado, she approached him. It was only out of pity that she did not throw herself down in his lap as she knew Bobby would have liked to see. 

"I have a letter for you," he told her bluntly. "From Robin."

Nightingale nodded. She did not hold out her hand for the letter, and he did not move to hand it to her. Both knew passing a paper like that would arouse suspicion. So they sat staring at one another for a moment.

"Come on. We might as well get going," said David.

Nightingale arched her eyebrow. Seeing Bobby watching her from where he was chatting up none other than Caroline - who, that night, had Glitter on her knee instead of Magenta - she took his hand.