Crews stared out the window deep in thought.
"Are you okay?" Reese asked, then immediately regretted it. He was quiet, for once, and she'd just ruined it.
He swiveled in his seat and examined her. "What an odd question?" his face was screwed up in a weird expression.
"It's not an 'odd' question," she objected immediately.
"I would have thought you're appreciate the quiet," he mused smirking.
"I do," she sighed heavily. "You just never are," she noted, "...quiet." She qualified it least he launch into a commentary on how everyone just "is" and she'd be forced to boot him from the car.
"I just was," he argued merrily, "...quiet."
"Fine," Reese pouted. "Forget I asked."
She was pissed now, so naturally he had to provoke her.
"I was thinking about something Eric Molina said to me," he focused out the window, looking out, but not at anything in particular.
She wouldn't ask him, but he continued undeterred.
"He said I was searching for something that was an illusion, something that wasn't there," he sounded far away. "Do you think that's true?"
She didn't answer. He glanced her way but couldn't divine if her lack of response was due the lack of an answer, or her ire. Just when he was certain she wouldn't answer, she did.
"You got that look," she replied. It was exactly what Eric Molina had told him.
Of course, she was there too. He wondered if she felt that way or if it was a clever verbal parry to keep from really talking to him. He decided to push her again, since it was going so well.
"Did you ever think about Quickie Mate?" he watched her intently.
She quickly glanced his way. There was no way he knew, right?
He watched her jaw tighten and lines appear at the corners of her eyes just beyond the reach of her sunglasses. "You know? On-line dating?" There was a smile in his voice as he toyed with her. A part of him was enjoying making her squirm.
"No," she relied icily, "I don't think about it."
"Hmmm," he twisted the knife. "I wonder…" he teased.
"Don't," she ordered. "Those ridiculous losers can't design a reasonable story for their whereabouts, much less a computer program that finds you the ideal woman."
"Oh," he grinned brimming with guilty but pleasant knowledge. "I already found the ideal woman," he bragged.
"And you bought her a horse," she ribbed him sarcastically. "How's that working out for you?"
"Oh….Jenn's not the ideal woman," he informed her. "Not my ideal anyway. I used to think she was, but she wasn't, she isn't. You wanna know who is?"
"No," she yelped. "I most certainly do not!"
She scrambled for something that would refocus Crews on the case. "What I remember Eric Molina saying was that he didn't kill Tim Chang, he loved him, he wanted to kill him, he tried to kill him, but he didn't kill him."
Crews considered what Molina said and how he'd said it. "What do you think that means?"
"It means….love makes you crazy," she answered crisply.
"So you don't want love?" he asked seeming so innocent, so sincere.
But she knew he was neither innocent nor was he being sincere. He was up to something. Crews never showed his cards. He was far too cagey for that. He seemed open, but he was not. She considered that little nugget of wisdom for a moment.
"Reese?" he sought to bring her back to him from wherever she'd travelled in her mind.
She tried to refocus the conversation on the case because she definitely did not want to trade lists of ideal mate characteristics with Crews. She'd already done that one time too many this week. God damned down time. Roman was right; it made her nervous, twitchy. God, I need to get laid, she thought.
She glanced at Crews and noticed him sitting open mouthed in the passenger seat.
"Please tell me I did not say that out loud," she mumbled.
From his look, she knew she had. It shocked him into silence. At least it was good for something. She'd have to remember that for the future.
Charlie stared out the passenger window in mute fantasy.
If only….. If only there was a way for him to be Donovan Lewis without her knowing, without her seeing, so he could to talk to her without her knowing it was him. Like a masked bandit from the old movies….his fantasy went sideways as she pulled to a stop outside the dojo.
"Reese," he called to her from his kneeling position in front of Eric Molina's shrine. "Come meditate with me?" He wiggled his toes in his stocking feet.
"That's okay," she replied. "I think I'll just watch."
"It'll make you happy," he teased.
"It's not gonna make me happy," she replied sing songing his offer back to him. No way she was getting down on her knees for Charlie Crews. Jesus, get your mind out of the gutter girl, she thought.
"If it doesn't make you happy, I promise not to say another word to you for the rest of the day. Where else you gonna get an offer like that?" he tempted her with that which he knew she could not refuse.
She sighed, but approached and knelt beside him. He could smell her perfume.
"All right," she sighed, "how do I do this?"
"Look straight ahead," he instructed.
He watched as she tried. He looked back at the photo in the shrine, willing her to see what he had and then looked back to her. He watched her as she saw it. Her eyes narrowed and she crawled forward. He tight ass was inches from him as she grasped the photo and rocked back on her heels.
"See? Happy?" he asked. Then she looked at him and smiled. He knew he was.