ANGEL BLUE [1]

LEAD 23: strange case of dr jekyll

      I believe that I’m in denial, that if I tell myself enough that Sam’s just a cocky FBI Agent that I am not attracted too, I’ll snap out of it―but I can’t. I’m starting to notice all the little things about Sam, like how he always holds his coffee with his left hand and phone in his right or the fact that when he’s on the phone he clenches his jaw, or whenever he reads he frowns. It’s driving me crazier than Nikita’s blood and I’m completely helpless when it comes to my own emotions.

      Why? Because I’ve never crushed on anyone before, i.e. nobody has ever liked me. However this being said, more problems arise because I’m becoming paranoid thinking of the ‘what ifs’ like: what if Sam doesn’t actually like me? What if I’m just a distraction to make Amanda Jane jealous? What if this is some sort of office fling?

      I think my nose is going to bleed.

      “By your silence and the fact that you’re almost crying, I’ve drawn the conclusion that you’re in love with him,” Banks shrugs, “and that’s completely fine with me.”

      My head snaps up, “I never said the ‘l’ word would come into this conversation.”

      “Top Cop,” Banks rests back against the plush hospital pillows. “You can’t lie or hide your shit from me. I can tell from the way you look at each other that there’s something stronger than a passing fancy. Even though you guys glare at each other most of the time, you’re just so…I can’t explain it. You guys are so wrong but yet so right for each other.”

      I deflate and rest my forehead against her blanketed legs. I’ve never been in a situation like this. I can find a killer or track down crime syndicates across Manhattan, but I can’t even tell my ‘crush’, who I might add is an FBI Agent, that I like him.

      “You have to tell him,” Banks pats my head and then chuckles to herself, “but I’ve got a plan.”

      “Fantastic,” I mutter.

      “Re-dye your hair blue and see what his reaction will be because if he flips out it’s a dead giveaway that he’s interested,” Banks pokes at my short ponytail. “I know you’ve been putting it off for months, and girl, you could be the poster child for King Bleach,” I might go ahead and poor myself a King Bleach shot. “Besides, it’s your birthday at the end of the week and who knows what’ll happen within the next seventy-two hours.”

      “Aye-aye Cap’n Cop,” I salute and try to ignore my insides liquefying at the thought of Sam’s possible reactions.

      • • •

      DC Grayson is like the vulture of my precinct, and I don’t handle change well. Grayson stands on the stairs in front of his office most of the time, simply watching the Desk Squad do their work while he obviously neglects his. On several occasions I’ve tried to see what he’s trying to hide, since he protects Dad’s old office like a crypt, but have come up with nothing except ‘get on with your work Detective’.

      Prat.

      I take the Nikita case file from my desk and storm towards the side of the aisle that I slightly detest less now since Jax is dead. I push through the shutter-clad green door and slam it behind me. I’m so many emotions at once, angry because of Nikita ruining Adams’ life, nervous because I have to tell Sam how I like him, and annoyed because I’m practically jeopardising the NYPD by sitting in the same room with this megalomaniac.   

      Nikita’s wrists are shackled to the table and his nostrils flare when I toss his file on the table. I pull the metal chair back, causing the legs to scrape against the concrete of the interrogation room and sit down. His black eyes twitch slightly and I smirk, he’s on edge.