Participants:
| Scene Title | Still Your Partner |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Elisabeth pays a visit to Captain Sheridan to turn in her resignation papers as per her agreement with Kershner and stops to see her former partner. |
| Date | Jan 19, 2010 |
NYPD HQ
Tuesday morning and all is well. Well, if you don't count the violence and crime that seems to be occuring as is almost a continuous process in the city. Nash has just brought in a suspect and tossed him into the cage and now he has to do a report. Hate those fucking things. So, leaning his chin on his hand, elbow on the desk and typing something out with one finger, he looks like the poster child for everything that is boring. Tap. Pause. Tap. Pause. Tap. Pause. And so the story goes. After getting the call that Liz was unexpectedly called away so many weeks ago, Nash has stopped worrying. After she told him what happened to her at the hands of Humanis First, then she disappeared, he nearly called out the calvary. But it's been so long now. He's always hoped for the best for her, though deep down inside, he wishes he'd hear.. something. But that was long ago, ages it seems. He has a new partner and is kept busy. He's moved on.
"Well, if that's not just the most pitiful sight I've ever seen in my life." The voice behind him is gently teasing, a whisper in his ear. When he turns, Elisabeth is standing in the doorway, one shoulder leaned against the jamb with her arms crossed. A faint smile quirks her lips though her shuttered blue eyes don't reflect true amusement. Her hair's a bit longer now, clipped away from her face. She's wearing a pair of black wool pants, a heavy sweater, and boots. There are new lines of strain in her expression, though they're eased as she smiles at him. "Hey, Nash."
"I hate fucking typing reports." The retort comes. "I'll give you.." There's a moment between when she speaks and recognition registers. His eyes move from his keyboard to his screen, then he sits up and slowly turns to look at her standing there. There are emotions that run through him. The first one is relief. He slowly stands, pushing his chair away from the desk with the back of his knees and he turns towards her. "Yeah, well — you're quite the improvement from Sanchez, who has to be the ugliest dude I've ever seen." An empty Big Gulp cup is tossed over the cubicle, hitting Nash in the side of the head. "Hey watch that shit! This is a new suit." He doesn't move towards her, as he refocuses, but sits on the edge of his desk. "I'm glad to see you're alive."
Pushing herself off the wall, Elisabeth's arms drop to her sides as she moves toward him chuckling at the cup that comes over the wall. She comes to a stop just at arm's length, studying the man who was her partner. "I'm sorry if I worried you," she says simply. "Life treating you all right?"
"You're a big girl. You can take care of yourself, right?" The temptation to rise as she approaches is a strong one, but Nash remains leaning as she gets closer. Scrutiny works both ways, and he gives her the once over just to be certain she's okay. The fact is, even if it was just for a short time, they were partner and there is that connection between them. Nash shrugs non-chalantly and makes a face. "It's been… alright. Same as it ever was. How was… your trip?" He has no clue what else to call it, so that's what he calls it. Like she was on vacation or something. "I didn't get one letter. Not a postcard. They don't have email.. wherever the hell it was you were." She probably cannot talk about it, but he forces a smirk on his face to try and make the moment a little lighter.
Amusement flashes through her eyes at his insouciance and Elisabeth rocks on her heels, shoving her hands into her back pockets. "Yeah, well… I suck," she admits softly. "I got hold of my father and asked him to make sure you knew I was okay, but…. it seemed better to keep my head in the game where I was. You know those spook sorts — all hush-hush and annoying." She sucks in a deep breath, her eyes skimming around the squad room. There is a pang of sadness. She will miss this. When her eyes come back to his, she says softly, "The captain's probably going to be a bit pissy for a while. I, uhm… handed in my resignation on my way in."
Sometimes there's this moment when you want to nod to something, and get halfway through that nod when you realize what the fuck it is you're nodding to. This is that moment. Nash lifts his chin, then pauses, then drops it. "I see." Chilly all of a sudden. He pushes himself off the desk and turns towards his computer to save whatever half written report he's working on and turns off the monitor before turning back to her. "I see." And this is why you don't get attached, children. Sesame Street should teach this shit. He nods. "I guess that makes sense." There was a part of him that hoped when she got back from Mergatroid or whever the hell she went that they'd be partnered up again. He trusted her. Felt that she'd always have his back. Sanchez on the other hand…? Puh-leeze. He's no idea what she's gone through and he probably never will. She gets another nod. "What will you do?"
"C'mon,… lemme buy you a cup of coffee?" Elisabeth asks instead of giving him an answer here in the squad room where his new partner can continue to listen in. Sure, she could encase them in silence… but buying her former partner a cup of coffee seems the least she can do. And her blue eyes flicker upward to meet his gaze meaningfully. She definitely doesn't want to talk here.
Nash already has his jacket on, not having bothered to remove it when they got back from a collar. "I'll be back, Sanchez. I did have that report. You do the other half. I'll be back." Just in case he didn't hear it the first time. He walks toward her, heading for the door. "You're driving." If they're driving, though the nearest coffee shop isn't all that great being close to the precinct and cops will drink anything handy, so it doesn't have to be.
Moving her hands from her back pockets, Elisabeth shoves them into her front pockets as they walk out. "Sure," she replies. She's quiet until they get to her car, turning the engine on and pulling out of the parking spot. As she drives toward the bakery that they tend to frequent when they get the chance, she says, "So… you want the short version or the long one?" She won't tell him the classified bits, but she has every intention of telling him the truth.
"I'll take whichever one will give me the best picture in the least amount of time. Just leave out the bullshit. If there's something you can't tell me, just say you can't tell me." He was given the impression it was something rather secret, so he's not sure exactly what it is she can tell him about this all, but he'll listen. As they get to the coffee shop, get their order and get seated. "I imagine you'll want to do that," he makes a round sort of sign with his hands making the shape of a ball, "thingie you do before you start." He is adding some extra sugar to his coffee. Nash grins over at her. "Hey, you don't look too worse for the wear, so it couldn't have been all bad."
She is pretty quiet during the drive, and when they're finally settled at the bakery with their coffee, Elisabeth does enclose them in a bubble so that they can talk. "No bullshit. I don't have to anymore. I didn't have a choice in taking the assignment, Chris," she tells him quietly. She glances at him briefly. "Remember when we had that conversation about the Narrows and the intel I passed on to the commissioner? I told you then that IA was… concerned. About the fact that some of us had more information than we should have." She's pretty sure he does — it's not like it wasn't one of the first real conversations they'd had.
"I was a member of Phoenix," she tells him. "In the past year, I have helped thwart the organization known as Vanguard in my 'spare time' several times." She grimaces a little. "After Midtown, I dropped off the force for a couple of years to lay low. I wasn't thrilled about mandatory Registration. Still don't believe in it. But the Vanguard attacked the high school I was teaching at in late 2008. A bunch of my kids died. So I came back to the force to get justice for them. And in the meantime, I hooked up with some people who were ALSO trying to stop Vanguard's activities. And in the places where we as cops had our hands tied…. I went ahead and helped take action anyway. The Narrows…. was one of those incidents." She sighs. "I knew that I'd pay for what I was doing, Chris. Eventually. 'Eventually' turned out to be now. In return for what I did for them, which is highly classified and was …. very ugly and bad, I was given a full pardon for my activities. But part of the deal was my resignation for a more… 'prestigious' position." There's a rueful twist to her lips. "Turns out… when you have as many contacts in the underground as I do, they actually want you to use them."
Nash is familiar with Pheonix, though not so much for Vanguard and alot of the other stuff, though he's able to put a few pieces together to make them fit. He's slowly drinking his coffee, letting her get it all out of her system. There are moments when he arches his brow up when something strikes his attention, but for the most part he just listens. He shakes his head when she's finished. "You've lived one hell of a life, Harrison. Elisabeth. I don't judge you for what you've done or did. You know as well as anyone I don't always play by the rules. You did what you thought was best. I will say you scared the hell out of me." He leans back against the booth and shakes his head. "Just a few days after telling me some terrorist cell fired a gun at your head and almost killed you, you disappeard. I admit, I was worried. Afraid perhaps they'd actually got you this time." He nods his head. "I am glad you're alright. Hopefully wherever this takes you will be a good change for you to do something good."
Now that she's got the opportunity to talk to the man, Elisabeth's just a fountain of information. Almost like she needs to purge it. "I wanted…. to tell you. When you came on board with the PD, with me," she admits softly. "I wanted to trust you. I just… " She bites her lip. "I didn't mean to worry you. I let you know I was okay as soon as I was able." She grimaces. "I sure as hell hope it's a good move. I'm scared to death," she admits quietly. "I'm going onto FRONTLINE Squad 2."
Only the ignorant or fools haven't heard of Frontline. "Shit, Liz. You probably have a reason to be scared to death." Nash is leaning forward now. "That's.. crazy." Words suddenly leave him, as if he can't figure out what to say to that. His eyes dart about, flashed with a touch of concern. "I'm glad you told me. I always tried to respect you, and I think you know that I don't often respect a whole hell of a lot. Just be careful out there. I've heard some scary shit." Taking a deep breath, Nash offers a half smile. "But, if it's what you want, then I do wish you the best."
With a wrinkle of her nose, Liz admits, "I don't know what the hell I want. I don't know what else to do with my life right now, Nash. There's still a lot that needs doing." She sighs, leaning forward onto her elbows and wrapping her hands around the coffee mug. She looks drained. Sad. And tired. "I could walk away from it all. Take my pardon and the rest of my deal and just… go back to teaching. Go into music. I don't know." She shakes her head and looks at him with a small smile. "I just can't see myself doing anything else, honestly. I've fought so hard. I've lost too many people in this fight to back out. It would… make a mockery of the ones who died out there."
Nash uses his fingers to spin the cup around on the table as he listens. "Maybe you should go back to teaching, to music. I'm not saying you should give up or run away, but seriously? When is enough enough? Death? Will it take your death before you realize that you have used your entire life for this? Those who died out there, the ones you're afraid to mock.. do you think they'd want you to die right there with them?" Nash's face scrunches up. He's not normally this serious and it's going to put a crimp into his image if he doesn't chill. He gives her a grin, "But really, it's all about what you want to do, Liz. Not what's expected of you. Do you seriously think for one moment I'm out there doing what other people expect of me? Hardly." That most definitely includes last night's festivies with.. well, that's another story. "Before you jump into this FRONTLINE gig, you should really consider it."
For a long moment Liz thinks about what he's saying, and then she shrugs a little. "Actually, I have. I've had nothing but time on the way home." She pauses and says quietly, "I thought that I might actually consider the idea of stepping away from all of this… maybe the end of this year or next year. I was… seriously considering having a kid." Shockers! Unfortunately the person she'd have considered it with just went and died on her. "It's not going to work out like I thought it might, so… I can curl up and lay low. God knows, I've put in my time and I deserve it. Or … I can keep doing the job, Chris." She looks up at him and her blue eyes are clear, if weary. "I'll rest when we're through. I need to keep doing this job. For now." It's what she has left.
Nash's head bobs a couple times as she speaks, and he chuckles, shaking his head. "Sounds like you've considered it. To be honest, I had a feeling you'd say just what you said." As to whether or not this'll ever be done? He has his own thoughts about that. "Well, if you ever need my help, Harrison, you know where to find me. Until then, I hope you'll still consider me your partner and call on me now and again." His eyes roll as he shakes his head. "Lord, knows I'll get tired of carrying Sanchez' fat ass around all day and need someone I can actually trust to have my back now that you've left me high and dry." He smirks, shaking his head. "Thanks alot. I couldn't even get another hot partner. I go from you to fuckin' 'Dunkin' Donut' Sanchez."
Elisabeth ffts. "That was pure blackmail," she tells him in disgust. "I'm not 'suited' to be a cop, according to the IA prick who drugged my ass and kidnapped me off to Timbuktu for their little classified clusterfuck." Her tone is bitter. "You're probably better off without me, though — your career sure as hell is." She grins a little. "But since you want me to keep calling on you, I do actually have a favor to ask." She fishes in the pocket of her jacket and comes up with a set of dog tags. 'Donald Dixon.' "I need you to locate his family for me, if you can. His parents deserve more than the bullshit lies they'll get told about our run."
Nash reaches for the tags, then pulls out a notepad to jot the name and social down on it before pushing it back. "If I can find them, they'll want these. I'll let you bring it to them. Any idea on where they might live? Where was he from?" His coffee cup is empty, he only realizes it when he takes another drink only to find a couple of drops. He makes another face, lifting it up for a refill, which comes quickly. Better off without her? Well, he's not too certain about that. At least she was passionate about what she does.. did.. whatever.
There's a negative shake of her head. "No. And I'm trying to keep it on the down-low. I don't want to be given orders to mind my own fucking business that I'll have to break the first week on the job," Elisabeth admits. She slants him a bit of a grin. "You know, you could always ask for another partner. That guy Cooper or something."
There's a 'you've got to be fuckin' kidding me' glance exchanged with the blonde across from him. "That guy is like Mr. Mom with a gun." Cooper is a good guy, but if they can't go out and chase women after work, then they at least have to look good standing next to him and be of the opposite sex. Not that he ever made a pass at Liz, because he's doesn't cross that line of fucking your partner. Not since.. well. He shrugs. "We'll see. Not holding my breath or anything. Especially since Sanchez seems to be taking enough air in for the both of us." He reaches for the dog tags again. "I'll let you know when I find Dixon's kin. We'll figure out the rest later because I have no clue what they need to know."
"I don't expect you to make contact. Someone else wants to handle that. But … thanks, Chris." Elisabeth smiles faintly at him. "A lot."