When we got home, Blaze decided that for privacy on any phone and Zoom calls, she’d do her work in the kitchen and I’d keep my office door shut. She’d already checked in by phone with her local office to let them know she was working from home today and to see how they were holding up. If Viviane needed anything, she’d send a chat message.

  When Blaze talked to her after the battle and again this morning, Viviane said she’d been doing OK. They hadn’t done much to her beyond extracting information. After that, it was mostly orders to stay quiet, stay out of the way, and shoot us when we came in. Her controller had been about half the level of their Boss. Once they knew we were coming, he’d mostly forgotten about her.

  He was one of the local leaders wounded in our attack in the Odd Fellows Hall. He hadn’t been a priority to keep alive. He’d passed out from blood loss after being shot. When he came to, he’d been more than willing to release anyone he’d CHARMed, given the alternatives. Maybe he was hoping for a lighter sentence.

  I took some snacks and my coffee into the office. When Blaze was ready for a break, she’d make us something to eat. My method of not listening was headphones and music. The volume stayed low enough that I couldn’t hear her talking, but if she shouted or screamed, I’d hear it.

  It was almost half past noon when she took her first break. I was cruising, fourteen pages edited in that time. Too many run-on sentences. Thoughts that never quite ended. If it wasn’t that, it was missing punctuation. It read like he was dictating or lecturing to a class and never stopping to breathe.

  Shortly before one o’clock, the office door opened and Blaze came in with a half-full pot of coffee and a plate of sandwiches. There were sliced pickle spears on the plate, which I didn’t remember us having. It was perfect timing.

  “How’s it going?”

  “OK. Mostly typing up what happened. I’ve got a Zoom call at two. There’ll be Washington people on it.”

  “Bledsoe one of them?” I asked.

  “They didn’t tell me who. Maybe.”

  “I’m certain he wants to know how you’re doing. And how he needs to change agent training. Again.”

  We both chuckled.

  Otherwise, we talked about general things, carefully skirting around the big one. Where does our relationship go from here? It helped us relax.

  “She’s under the most stress until she gets past what the agency wants to learn,” I thought. “And tomorrow she’ll be back in the office.”

  When my computer clock ticked over to 1:30, I suggested she get ready for her call and I’d keep working. Unless we were absolutely needed in an emergency somewhere, I’d take her out to dinner. Maybe the West End. See if Shadow was working tonight.

  “Sounds good,” she said. “I wonder if anyone’s tried to rob them again?”

  “Probably not. I haven’t heard anything. Any would-be’s are likely too scared after the last group.”

  She went back to the kitchen and her computer. I checked with the dry cleaners down the street to see if they were open. They were. I told them I’d be bringing in a leather coat that needed cleaning. When I mentioned blood stains, they sounded concerned. They sounded happier when I told them I’d explain in person.

  [William of Brinsford:] [Urako Sarutobi] [Are you working tonight?]

  [Urako Sarutobi:] [William of Brinsford] [Yeah. Why?]

  [William of Brinsford:] [Urako Sarutobi] [I don’t feel like cooking and I want Blaze to rest. Thought I’d take her out tonight someplace better than MacDonalds.]

  [Urako Sarutobi:] [William of Brinsford] [Uh huh. almost believe that. I start at six.]

  [William of Brinsford:] [Urako Sarutobi] [I want her to relax. She’ll need it after her boss’s get through pumping her for info today about happened. What’s a good time to come in when it’s not too busy?]

  [Urako Sarutobi:] [William of Brinsford] [6:30 or 7 then. You got anything else planned? Ingrid say you 2 staying home today.]

  [William of Brinsford:] [Urako Sarutobi] [Just working, editing. Blaze is getting the third degree from her bosses way up the food chain. I wouldn’t be surprised if the director is part of it. She’s going to need time to destress after this.]

  [Urako Sarutobi:] [William of Brinsford] [ya. too far away to roast ‘em all. bbq time. want me to find out what she wants to eat?]

  [William of Brinsford:] [Urako Sarutobi] [I’d rather make it a bit of a surprise. Not gonna do the robes. It’s dress uptime.]

  [Urako Sarutobi:] [William of Brinsford] [just 2 people on a date. Bout time. gotta start a new pool. had ya for last Tuesday. Ya holding out on us longer than we expected. Bhaarrt’s gonna win by default.]

  I was glad Blaze couldn’t see me shaking my head. Our friends were betting on when we’d officially get together. “I wonder if there’s a bet on a marriage date?” I kept my chuckle quiet enough that she wouldn’t hear me through the door, the distance, and her earbuds.

  [William of Brinsford:] [Urako Sarutobi] [Should be there between 6:30 and 7. See ya then. Just a meal. Nothing else.]

  I gave her a few suggestions. She told me she’d do what she could. We’d talk later tonight. I said we’d dress nice for dinner. I had to cut her off when she started suggesting what might happen afterward.

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  We were having fun.

  When we finished chatting, I went back to my music and editing.

  At one point, I heard Blaze shout two or three sentences at someone. I couldn’t make out the words, but the tone came through loud and clear. She was not a happy camper. I could hear the fire in her voice. The old line popped into my head… “You go, girl.”

  I hoped it wasn’t the Director. I wanted her to keep her job. “She could probably get a police job in Eddington if she had to. And if they had an opening.” My concentration broke, and my brain wandered into pulp detective covers… Detective Blaze: Have Fire, Will Travel… or maybe Detective Blaze: Fighting Gunfire With Fire.

  As entertaining as that was, I still had work to do. Skimming ahead, it looked like the manuscript had almost reached the conclusion. Maybe it would go faster from here. The citations and bibliography were standard academic formatting. Tedious but straightforward. If I took another day or two off fighting spawns, I might finish it before Victor and his family arrived.

  “I need to contact him for his schedule,” I reminded myself. “Wonder if he’ll fly himself here. He said last year he’d bought a partial interest in a plane big enough for his family.”

  After another hour, my music hit a quiet intro and I realized the house was silent. My coffee cup had two swallows left. I finished them, saved my work, stood, and headed for the kitchen to refill.

  Blaze was sitting at the table, slumped forward with her head resting on her folded arms. “That must’ve been rough,” I thought as I moved quietly.

  I set my cup down gently, leaned beside her, and wrapped my arms around her shoulders, resting my head next to hers.

  “Tough session?” I whispered. “Tired?”

  She jerked back just like I expected. Her head bumped my shoulder, not hard. That was why my head had been alongside, not behind her.

  “Wha? Will!!!”

  “Boo,” I replied. “Tough session?”

  “Damn you. I wasn’t asleep. You startled me.”

  “Of course you weren’t,” I replied, grinning as I rubbed my right ear against her left. “Ear now, you’ll be OK.”

  I jerked my head back just as she tried to hit me with hers.

  We both burst out laughing. She was awake now, grinning. I let go and slid into the chair at the end of the table so she could turn and face me.

  “Is this what I have to look forward to?” she asked. “Is this how you treated your wife?”

  “Yep. Sho do,” I said, slipping into a soft Southern accent. “She took years tryin’ to catch up with me. Got so she was almost as good. Said she was holdin’ back to keep from harmin’ my fra-gile male ego. Uh huh. Right. Told her it was bigger n’ harder n’ Stone Mountain. Along with certain other parts of me.”

  Blaze started laughing hard.

  I let her go and slid into the chair at the end of the table.

  “She said that hunk of rock was a monument to my losin’ to her superior wit and wisdom,” I continued.

  “I told her it was a monument half the size of my sense of humor.”

  She kept laughing, and I kept mining that vein of granite until we were both nearly breathless.

  Eventually, we settled.

  “Feel better?” I asked. “More awake?”

  “Yes. Maybe I needed that. They went over every detail of yesterday. They’re not happy they’ll have to pull some undercover people because of DISPLAY STATS. Regular agents don’t have that problem.”

  “Why? If someone used a game name, it shouldn’t matter. It shows the game name, not their real name. Unless it screams law enforcement. If someone calls themselves SloMoJoe, unless their name isn’t Joe, who’s questioning it?”

  That set her off laughing again.

  That’s when I told her we were eating out tonight, and that I had reservations at a swanky place. She had to be ready by six. My treat. I’d drop off the jacket for cleaning and blood removal on the way. It wasn’t the first time they’d cleaned it.

  We still had work to do. I refilled my coffee. She went back to report writing. We planned to stop at 5:30 and get ready.

  “Real swanky,” I reminded her. “Dress appropriately.”

  I set my computer alarm for 5 p.m. That gave us an hour and a half to get ready and enough time to drop off the coat and still make it by 6:30.

  When it went off, I finished the sentence I was retyping and saved the file. Then saved the backup.

  “Hanna!” I called. “Time to clean up and get dressed. Something nice.”

  “I’m wearing a suit,” I added.

  I heard an “OK.” By the time I opened the office door, she was heading my way. I went to my bedroom. She turned into hers.

  I dug into the rarely used section of my closet and pulled out a suit and shirt I hadn’t worn since my wife’s funeral. Both were black. “What other color would I wear?”

  Looking at my ties, I chose the white tie. From the top shelf, I pulled down a plastic bag covering a black fedora with a white band. American gangster look. I’d had the hat and tie for almost thirty years, leftovers from an amateur play. Plastic pearl cufflinks waited in a box on my dresser.

  Surprisingly, it all fit reasonably well. A little tighter than back then, but good enough.

  I showered quickly, trying to remember the real name of the play, not just what we’d called it.

  I finished first, leaned against the wall outside her door, crossed my legs, tugged the brim of my hat low, and wished I had a toothpick. I don’t smoke.

  She stepped out wearing a knee-length, sleeveless, cream-colored dress I hadn’t seen before. Matching heels, low but enough to give her a couple of inches.

  A black clutch was in her right hand. It was big enough for her ID, badge holder, and the pistol she usually wore in a shoulder holster. “Once an agent, always an agent.”

  Looking her up and down, I whistled, straightened up, and offered my arm, elbow cocked.

  “Lookin’ good, doll. Just right for the place I got in mind.” It matched what I wore. Just off a couple of decades.

  She took my arm and we crossed the house. I opened the door for her, grabbed the leather coat from the rack, and locked up behind us.

  The cleaners gave me a few odd looks when I dropped off the coat and asked them to do their best with the blood stains. I told them I wasn’t in a hurry and to call when it was done.

  I held my laughter until we got back in the van. Then we both cracked up as I described their reactions.

  We took our time driving over. Not like the last time.

  There were still five minutes to spare when I pulled into a spot near the West End Restaurant.

  “Will! You said a fancy place. This is a diner.”

  “Yep. Best chef in town. She said she’d make something special for us.”

  “This is where Shadow works.”

  “Like I said,” I replied, “best chef in town. Wait, I’ll open the door for you.”

  I opened her door and helped her down. Old manners die hard.

  She hooked her right arm through my left. I escorted her inside and opened the door.

  As we entered, she blushed all the way to the back of her neck.

  There were a dozen people inside, and we got looks. A lot of looks.

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