Ugly Good Bad

[Meraki]

"I suppose that's something we have to do, yeah."

It was a difficult situation to be in. Eliza had never lived an existence away from the cold and pain that existed in New York. Between Robinson and her family, she never managed to feel the find of honest contentment she felt when she was far away with Rhett. It was intoxicating, addicting even, but she knew he was right. What was waiting for them in New York wouldn't be pretty. It would be dangerous and terrible, but they had a score to settle. It wasn't a score out of revenge, it was out of an innate desire to protect others and to find answers for those left answerless by the crimes. Sylvia deserved to face prison, Robinson too, but more than that the people of New York deserved to know the underbelly they were existing in.

If they were going to head back, Eliza would need to stop babying her shoulder too much. There was no way the two of them could go back and face the hell that awaited if she was any less than one hundred percent. They both needed to be to survive.

"If that's what we're talking about, a bar and cheese curds sounds like the perfect date," she added with a warm squeeze of his hand. "I guess I'll have to check my phone too, eventually."

There was no doubt in her mind that between Robinson, the Captain and Diaz that someone managed to write her off for medical leave or unpaid personal time. If that wasn't the case, she didn't know what she would do, but she couldn't focus on that now. After breakfast when they managed a couple of warm showers, some clean clothes and a little trip to the bar – then she could worry about the contents of her texts and voicemail. After all, they had to know about the attempted kidnapping by now and it was very unlike Eliza to run from anything. Maybe they were a tough crowd sometimes, but they were the closest thing Eliza had to a family for a long time and they knew her.

Eliza was hungry, as she always was at breakfast, and worked through her pancakes with ease. "Actually, I've never had cheese curds, but I grew up in an Italian neighborhood, so cheese is kind of a staple in my diet. We can have some of those Wisconsin brews too – the whole culinary experience."

 

[Nav]

Wisconsin forever was not the answer.

Rhett would be miserable staying in Wisconsin forever and he knew, deep down, Eliza would be too. They needed the reprieve; a small retreat in the battle to regroup and configure a new plan, but the battle hadn't been lost. Hell, Rhett was beginning to worry that the true battle hadn't even really begun yet. Whatever beast was mobilizing in New York, Rhett was certain they had only barely scratched the surface and whatever did end up emerging was bound to be bigger than either of them could currently wrap their brains around… and there were not many things Rhett couldn't wrap his brain around.

For the moment though, he enjoyed his eggs, bacon, and orange juice. He ate slowly, but with deliberate enjoyment, and didn't reach for more once he had finished his first plate. Instead, he just settled back into his chair with contentment. "That's fine," he agreed, "Though I won't be able to eat again for at least another few hours," he gave his plenty full stomach a quick pat. Of course, the also meant breaking the news to his mother that he wasn't planning on staying, settling down, and having lots of children. She hadn't asked about their plans and Rhett could only assume it was because she didn't want to know.

Ever since he had moved to New York, she had always tried to convince him to come home. He was certain the discussion about him going back to New York was going to be a long one.

He loved her, but the Wolfharts never really moved. They all grew up in the same farmhouse, they all stayed and married and had kids, they all died in that house. Rhett had always been the black sheep, though his mother had always seemed so keen on doing whatever she could to paint his fleece white.

Breakfast turned into a whirlwind and as soon as it had begun, kids were being ushered out to the bus and parents were picking up the table. Rhett sprung up to help, grabbing dishes, packing leftovers away, and cleaning up messes. Between the entire family, it didn't take long to get everything done. Glancing back to Eliza, he nodded his head. "So, you good? What do you want to do now? I would say the world is your oyster, but that's not really true. There isn't much to do."

 

[Meraki]

"I could use a good, long shower," Eliza admitted with a laugh.

The two of them made their way upstairs. He was right, there wasn't much to do in Wisconsin in the winter, but Eliza was determined to at least use their time to spend together. It didn't really matter where they were – they both needed some time to breathe and process before they went gallivanting off into whatever horrors awaited them back in New York. Sylvia, Robinson, the justice system. It was so much that it made her want to throw her hands up and just crawl under the covers, but Eliza was never one to run from a fight. Maybe she had softened a bit since opening up to Rhett and she wasn't as needlessly reckless, but there would always be that innate desire in Eliza to do good and to always finish what she started.

She could not abandon New York now, not when there were people destroying the lives of its citizens and never having to answer for it. Little girls killed, explosions, kidnappings, needless murders for the sake of what? Keeping up appearances and throwing their nose from the trail. Humanity in New York was becoming disposable and while it could be a rough city, it was hers. It always would be to some extent. It raised her, molded her, and no matter where she went there would always be just a piece of that city in her heart.

Eliza managed a long, hot shower for the first time since the attempted kidnapping. The hot water seared against some of the healing cuts, but it soothed the bruising as she let the water drench her. It was so easy to shut her mind off in the shower, to just take a few moments to give everything over to senses and just feel content. Her hair seemed to spring back to life, her skin warm and clean, and she spent a good long while scrubbing each and every inch to ensure that there was not a speck of the incident left on her save for the bruising. Once she was out, she managed to dry herself off and her hair, slipped on a real pair of jeans and a white v-neck t-shirt. Their travel wardrobe was limited, but with good reason.

Stepping barefoot back into Rhett's room, she caught glimpse of herself in the small mirror and noted how human she looked now. There was still weight – New York, her attack, family, and the subtle pain in her shoulder when she moved the wrong way – but she looked like herself. Eliza had always been a bit scrappy, but they had both seemed to drag themselves kicking and screaming from the wreckage of their lives onto that plane and into Wisconsin.

"I cannot even explain to you how perfect that shower was," Eliza laughed as she flopped down onto the bed and pulled a clean pair of socks on her cold feet. She caught a glimpse of the clock on her way down, "What do you think? Maybe we can just drive around for a bit and then grab a drink somewhere when it gets closer to noon? Not that I'm opposed to a good Bloody Mary at any time of day."

 

[Nav]

While Eliza showered, Rhett explored the corners of his childhood bedroom. He couldn't decide if the memories were particularly inviting, but they were hard to ignore. There were books lining the shelves, dozens of them. He never truly understood why he felt compelled to keep books he had read. After all, he would never have to reread them… he'd never need to, because he could recite almost everything he had ever read. Still, he kept them all the same. They wore a coat of dust and he dragged his finger along their spines. Conrad, Faulkner, Rand, and research journals piled high and showed only minimal signs of wear. Most of them looked almost new, but he supposed when a book only needed to be read once, they maintained their level of novelty.

In one corner of the bottom shelves was something he very nearly had forgotten about (though not entirely) and he smiled inwardly as he pulled the thick ream of hastily bound pages free. "Nuetrality, Legitimacy, and the Supreme Court: Some intersections Between Law and Political Science, Rhett J. Wolfhart" Rhett read aloud to himself, though no one was in the room to overhear it. He flipped through some of the yellowing pages, chuckling softly at the naivety of his graduate dissertation argument. It had been a well-performed dissertation, and had earned him praise and high marks, but he reflected back on the piece with amusement. He tossed the book back onto his shelf and continued his round around the room, though nothing jumped out at him with the same ferocity as the book had.

He had very nearly finished his second lap around when Eliza joined him. Her wet feet left small, damp prints on the wooden floor as she scurried to dress herself. "That good, was it? Every five minutes in a shower uses between seventy and one-hundred fifteen litres of water. Not that you care, I'm sure, but now you know." He shrugged lamely, knowing most of his little intermittent 'fun facts' were not really that fun at all.

"That being said, sure, we can go drive around for a while. There are some nice hillsides and such to look at," he glanced back at her, resting his hands up on his sides, "It's fairly pretty, I suppose. Thankfully, there are tons of bars around to quench your thirst at all hours of the day no matter what form of alcoholic beverage you are seeking." They had agreed to sit down and discuss their action plan regarding New York, and Rhett had subsequently agreed the conversation could transpire over cheese curds and alcoholic beverages, as even he wasn't particularly looking forward to the discussion.

They were both healing. Rhett was starting to shake out of his drug-induced haze and while it still terrified him, New York was keeping his mind too busy to worry about anything else. Meanwhile, Eliza was looking stronger than she had in a long time, both mentally and physically. It was those realizations that caused the queasiness to boil in his gut, reminding him that New York was looming quickly and quietly on their collective horizon.

 

[Meraki]

"Well then, that decides it," Eliza smiled back at him and pulled her boots on. She wasn't particularly excited to sit down and talk about New York, but she was itching to do something. It was so hard knowing that she had just abandoned the guys back at the station just as the trail was getting hot. She was scared for Dawson, who knew nothing of the plot and was within Robinson's grasp, and she was scared for Diaz most. He knew too much and she was worried what her disappearance meant for the department. "I'm always seeking an alcoholic beverage. Let's do it."

The two bundled up and made their way out of the family home and into the truck. The heater kicked in and Eliza hummed along with the radio as they drove. Wisconsin was certainly more empty space than Eliza had ever seen. Not exactly empty, but more open and the roads winding through the snow. Everything was blanketed in thick white snow and it calmed her to see. She wasn't exactly sure why, but it was so quiet and clear that she couldn't help but feel a bit eased by it all. Considering the conversation they were about to have, Eliza could use as much easing as possible.

In what felt like only minutes, they pulled into a little town dive bar and Eliza felt immediately at home when they walked through the front door. There were more people there than she had anticipated, but there was a bar top table in a corner that they managed to swipe and Eliza needed a drink. With a whiskey double in front of her and her turned off cell phone sitting on the table top, she looked up at Rhett and sighed. "So," she said finally, a hand running through her hair before she brought her glass up for a long, stiff sip, "What are you thinking in that brain of yours?"

"About New York, I mean," she clarified, knowing that there was always plenty going on in Rhett's mind. Her cell phone hadn't been turned on since they left, and there was still dry blood splattered against the back of the case. Her own, of course, but it didn't make the device look any less menacing. "If we go back there without a plan, we're dead."

"And I wish I didn't mean that literally."

 

[Nav]

The drive was familiar, but oddly indifferent. Most people got so emotional thinking about their childhood home and were they had come from, but looking at the roads he used to drive as a kid didn't cause an ounce of emotion to roll through his chest. In fact, he felt almost nothing at all… he felt as close to indifferent as one could feel and spent almost the entirety of the drive calculating the number of snowflakes in a square mile of a Wisconsin farm field using an approximate depth of snow. He had calculated his answer long before they had arrived at the diner, and when they settled in and Eliza asked, he seriously doubted that's what she cared about.

Her next statement confirmed his suspicions.

"Well," he began but was interrupted by a waiter that came over to see them, depositing menus and old plastic coke cups full of water. Thanking him, Rhett turned back to Eliza. "Well, as I was saying, I've been thinking quite a lot about it, as I'm sure you have." Rhett cleared his throat to try and gather his thoughts, though for once, he had a startling few. Given a math calculation, he could have talked about it all day long, but he felt oddly empty when it came to the matter of New York and how to approach it. It was unnerving, at least to himself, that he didn't have an answer to give her properly.

"I'm not entirely sure how to approach it, if I'm being quite honest. In Go, I've familiarized myself with strategy and combat almost endlessly, but this reaches deeper than strategy. One thing I've come to realize is that we are going to be betting on chance an awful lot. I am not a man of chance; in case you haven't noticed." Probabilities and outcomes were easy for Rhett to understand, but there were no probabilities to calculate with. I'm not even entirely sure where to begin. I'm out of contacts and if I challenge Sylvia and further, I fear the backlash." He had already gone toe to toe to her on one particular occasion and while he had won the case, he didn't feel particularly keen about jumping into the lion's den a second time without being armed.

After all, he had very nearly gotten himself thrown in prison and it had really only been luck that one child had survived. Luck, and Eliza's dogged work. "I have plenty of friends in high places that I can reach out to but… my sense of trust has been damaged."

 

[Meraki]

Eliza listened intently to Rhett's words. They processed quickly, but she repeated them over and over for the sake of her own sanity. They were up shit creek without a paddle, definitely, but they couldn't just sit there and do nothing. It would be hard and they were running into a situation where they would be at a disadvantage, but they knew Sylvia's tactics now. Maybe they didn't understand her motives yet, but they would find a way. She hummed to herself in thought before taking another sip of her drink. It seemed damn near impossible.

"What I need is to get Dawson to bring you on as a consultant so we can get you a legal firearm and police clearance," Eliza mused to herself, not for a moment sugarcoating the real danger here, "but the real question is whether or not my job even still exists."

She glanced at her phone for a moment and made no move to turn it on yet. "Robinson wouldn't let me lose my job, I'm almost positive. He's the reason I'm in the force and while he's working with Sylvia, he's too unstable to get over our…whatever I was to him…am to him, I guess. He's going to be our way into this. It's not safe, not easy or smart, but we can't go after Sylvia directly. Not until we've got more on her and a better idea of what we're facing at the end of all this."

"What we need is to find out how to get our hands onto a paper trail for Sylvia, while infiltrating the one person she is using to manipulate us," Eliza admitted, "I don't know how to do that without putting both of our lives in immediate danger, but like you said – reaching out at this point seems…it's hard after everything. That and while I know Diaz and Dawson have my back, I don't know what dragging them into this will do to them. Sylvia's willing to tie up any loose ends by any means necessary."

"So I think we trust each other," she breathed out, "and we do this together. Whatever it is we decide. If the past has shown us anything, it's that we're stronger together. And when Sylvia makes a move at severing that, we have to be ready to fight, because she may not be scared of us – but she considers us a threat."

 

[Nav]

Eliza was right, of course, but it felt like the same roundabout way of thinking they had been having since the beginning. In theory, snatching up a paper trail somewhere somehow seemed like just the thing to do, but that had already proven harder than they had first imagined on a couple of occasions. "I know nothing about being a consultant or any such thing," he admitted. Thankfully, he knew his practice would be right there waiting for him when he returned. Though he was confident he'd return to a few angry phone calls from clients he had inadvertently dropped by running of to Wisconsin, he at least knew he had a job to go back to. Assuming the place hadn't burned down or been ransacked again. Sighing, he was glad when the waiter came over and took their drink orders.

For a split second, it gave him something else to think about.

"The only thing I know," Rhett began again as he waited for his veer, "Is that if we hope to gain from anything in the future, we best abandon our high-handed bid for quick concessions and settle in for a long, patient duel. We are dealing with a woman enthralled by the mystique of Go," he smiled politely and laced his fingers together across the table, "I've only been beaten in Go by two people. One was a dan, one of the best professional players in the world, that I lost to in a tournament. The other was Sylvia," he admitted with a soft chuckle that was more bitter than pleasant, "And I don't intend to lose to her again."

Perhaps they weren't on a board gambling with white and black pieces, but if he knew Sylvia in the slightest, and he liked to think he did… nothing was as simple as it would first appear. She would not only try and end them, but she would probably like to do so in a way she saw fitting. Having them bashed out in a back alley somewhere just wouldn't do. Nay, she needed the satisfaction of knowing she had outsmarted them. "The worst thing about Sylvia is I know she has left an answer for us. That's her way. She has given us an option, but we just have to find it. She takes great pleasure in knowing she is smarter than other and, truthfully, she usually is."

There had been more than one occasion when Sylvia's wit and intellect made even Rhett feel like a floundering idiot and the worst part about it was that it felt like she had no weaknesses… not when she was willing to do what she had to her very own child.

"The only thing is you say 'when' she comes for us. The problem, Eliza, is she already has. We just don't even know it yet."

 

[Meraki]

"You're right."

He always was. When it came to Sylvia, Eliza didn't stand a chance. Eliza was strong and quick, she could draw her gun and shoot a man between the eyes without so much as a flinch. She could beat a man three times her size down with her hands tied behind her back and could outsmart a group of kidnappers while injured, bound and drugged. If she ever got close enough to Sylvia, she would have no worries about reaching out and beating her within an inch of her life – but that was the thing. She had to get close enough, first, and she wasn't in any position to do so. Rhett was their only chance at outsmarting her, or at least catching up to her thoughts, and Eliza was the brawn. She saw patterns and throw punches, but quick wordplay and games of Go?

She was terrible the first time they played. She wasn't that kind of genius.

"I guess in that case," Eliza breathed out, "we should give this bad boy a listen and see what we've got going on. If she's already given us an option, then there might be a clue in my messages. Some way to tell what her next play is going to be, or at least where she wants us."

Eliza reached for her phone and held the power button until it lit back up. It took a moment, but after a few long sips of whiskey, she watched as the phone buzzed non-stop in her hand. Text after text, emails, voicemails all filling up her phone as she watched with baited breath. The first few were simple texts, "where are you?" and "what's going on?" She had sixty-three missed calls from Robinson, seven from Dawson, and one from Diaz. She went straight for her voicemail and opened the most recent voicemail from Robinson. With her phone on speaker, sound turned down just enough for them, Eliza set it down on the table and let it play.

Liz? Damn it, Liz. It's been a week.

I hope you're alright. Just – come home, please. Your job is waiting, I'm waiting. We're all waiting for you. Please, just let us know you're alive and come back. I know you're angry with me, but I'm just trying to protect you. All I've ever wanted to do is protect you.

Call me back. My phone is always on.

The message ended and immediately switched to Diaz's voice. Deeper, more confident.

Hey, it's me. Listen, I hope you and Wolfhart are safe wherever the fuck you are. I've been digging while you're gone, picked up your file from Wolfhart's place and kept it close. Robinson's had people over there all week trying to find any kind of trail towards you. He's a mess, Eliza. Muttering one minute, screaming and knocking down files off desks at the precinct. If you get this, know that there's shit brewing here. But if you're hurt, stay away. Dawson and I can hold down the fort here. But they found your blood in the alleyway, four guys beat half to death, and I don't know what shit you're in but you can't die right now, alright? Call me when you're ready, yeah?

A beep, and then one final one from Dawson.

Madison. Robinson said you're taking medical leave, but I need you to pick up your damn phone. Diaz is gone. Went out on patrol last night and no one has heard from him since. Last thing I heard him muttering about was you. If he's with you, or you know where he is, both of you get your asses back here. I don't have time to find new detectives, alright? It'd be nice to know you're alright, too, but you're stubborn as a damn mule.

With the click of the voicemail, Eliza took a moment to process in silence before bringing her glass to her lips and throwing back what was left of her whiskey. It burned hard on the way down, but she didn't so much as flinch. "Fucking Diaz," she wiped a hand over her face before pushing her hair back.

"Well," she breathed out, "I think that's our formal invitation home."

 

[Nav]

Rhett's mind wandered to Sylvia for quite a while as he considered the woman. She was brilliant, probably one of the most brilliant people he had had the pleasure (and displeasure) of coming into contact with. Even as the sound of the phone turning on, Rhett didn't seem to break for his trance. Not until she pressed play on the messages. They cycled through one by one: Robinson, Diaz, Dawson… he knew better than to believe there would be any sort of breadcrumb left behind on a recording. No, he had once shot to figure out what Sylvia was leaving behind, because she would most certainly not let it fall into a recording.

His eyes fell shut sleepily, though he was deep in thought. He couldn't help but wonder how a human being could divine so much pleasure out of something so terrible, but he was certain that Sylvia was enjoying herself. She had done many a great thing. Terrible things, but great.

The waiter returning with their beverages forced his eyes open and he looked to the man and smiled before settling his gaze back on Eliza across the table. His hand wrapped around the frothy glass and he sipped it once, enjoying the tangy taste. His mind was racing as it usually did, but he didn't show it on his face. Instead, he remained relaxed in physical appearance. He leaned back against his side of the booth for a while, still quiet.

"Yea," he finally concluded, "I suppose that is our open invite back to New York." Though he decidedly didn't call New York home because it wasn't; it never really had been. He hadn't even been following the news and he didn't really have any keen interest on doing so, though he knew he needed to get caught up on the daily events sooner rather than later. Perhaps nothing had happened in the city since their departure, perhaps something tragic had. Swallowing down a good chunk of his beer, Rhett sat back deeper against the backrest.

"I suppose nothing will change if we don't go back. At least we know you still have a job?" he offered half-heartedly, wondering in part what his own office looked like.

 

[Meraki]

"Yeah, my job is still there," Eliza nodded, sitting back for a second as the waiter brought her second whiskey, but this time it was diluted with a bit of diet coke. The last thing she needed was to get herself trashed, but the familiar burn was a welcome one. She was not prone to addictive tendencies, but drinking had always made her feel better. Just a little burn, a little clarity, and a moment to just sit back. There were a million thoughts running through her head at that moment, but one thought prevailed so much louder and buoyant than the others. If Diaz was hurt, it was her fault.

She'd never really considered the precinct family before, but she was beginning to realize through all of this that she wasn't as alone in her life as she thought. Sure, her and Diaz had hooked up a few times after particularly difficult cases or just drunken, sloppy nights – but he was her partner. He was her friend, above all, and while he never questioned Eliza or prodded into her past, and here he was being a reckless idiot throwing around his life for what? For answers that he wouldn't even understand? She shook her head.

But she opened that damn file in the first place and sometimes she wondered if her being locked back into her miserable, lonely existence would have made everyone's lives easier, happier. And that was a dangerous thought for Eliza to have mulling around in her brain.

"We need to get caught up," she said finally, "figure out what's going on. That's the only plausible first step that I can think of."

"Whatever's happening, Diaz can handle himself. He's been my partner since I got put on the force, he's a hell of a lot more resilient than I am. Or most other people, for that matter," Eliza clarified, mostly for her own sake, "He tends to go off the grid when he thinks he's onto something. Or at least, I hope that's what's going on."

She took another sip of her drink and pulled her phone back towards her, sifting through a sea of texts before getting frustrated and shoving it off to the side for a moment. There was nothing more difficult for Eliza Madison than feeling like she was giving up, and while she knew that they'd just taken a step back, she was itching to get back into it. She needed to be doing something, to be working with her hands and solving cases. She needed to feel like she was moving forward.

"I guess the real question then is when," she sighed, "when's a good time to dive back into all of this?"

 

[Nav]

As if Sylvia had been privy to their conversation, Rhett's mobile vibrated in his pocket. He hadn't turned it off, though he had ignored the increasing number of calls and texts that had been gathering. They had been almost entirely from clients asking where he had gone off to. To a few, he managed to respond and explain he was away for a family emergency but their cases had not been forgotten. That much was true, at least. He had brought a lot of his files with him and had studied them during his downtime, promising he wouldn't miss any court dates and that he'd meet with clients as soon as he was back in the city. He had intended to keep that promise, at least.

Pulling his hands unwillingly away from his beer glass, Rhett reached for his mobile and slid to answer. "Hello?" he said into the receiver, though he had already seen the contact printed across the illuminated screen.

"Mr. Wolfhart," Sylvia's silky voice eased into his ear with ease. He could practically hear her smirk.

"Sylvia, how are you? To what do I owe this pleasure?" he asked, sipping on his beer as he wanted for an answer, which only took a few moments.

"Mm, I was most disappointed to see you had left town," she murmured tenderly, "Running off to Wisconsin for a while?"

Rhett's brows arched up for a second before relaxing into a neutral expression, "How do you know I'm in Wisconsin?"

"I have my ways, Rhett," she responded, "Now listen up and clearly, because I only intend to tell you this once. You probably think I'm the evil in this and to some extent, perhaps you're right, but this is bigger than me. Things are heating up here. Get back to New York and meet me you-know-when, you-know-where. Can I count on that, Rhett?"

Rhett found himself pausing. He knew exactly when and where Sylvia was talking about and he glanced down at this watch. He had two days to get back to New York if he wanted to hear Sylvia out. That wasn't a lot of time. His lips curled and pursed into his teeth, calculating his options and their possible outcomes. "I will see you then, Sylvia," he replied after a moment and hung up the phone. She didn't deserve his goodbyes.

"Soon," he said back to Eliza, "The answer to your question is very soon."

 

[Meraki]

Eliza just sat as Rhett hummed through his conversation with Sylvia. It made her blood boil, truly, and she wondered if she would ever get over that little, quiet voice in her mind that kept repeating over and over that she'd never be like Sylvia. She would never be able to go toe to toe with Rhett, or challenge him mentally, and while she knew that there were plenty of other reasons why Rhett loved her, it still stung in the part of her heart that was always a bit insecure. Deep rooted issues like Eliza's could never be erased, but Rhett made them easier, more manageable because he loved her no matter what.

But sometimes they got the best of her, still. Every once in a while.

Eliza looked down at her whiskey glass as she held it between both of her hands. The condensation chilled her skin, but she made no move to warm her hands. This all felt like diving into the same old thing. Her going after Robinson, Sylvia and Rhett, and the world around them just suffering at the consequences of those interactions. People were dead, dying. Nothing stopped, Eliza knew it. She knew that when they returned to New York there would be more than either of them anticipated.

After Rhett hung up the phone, she shook her head. Soon.

"Are you…going to go after her alone?" Eliza asked, trying not to sound like a fearful child, but she worried. She worried about Rhett's well-being and him being around Sylvia for any extended period of time. Maybe this was their little game and she was sure that Sylvia didn't want Rhett dead, yet, but Eliza wasn't willing to take the same risks she was way back when.

"Sorry," she cleared her throat and took a deep sip of her drink, "I just mean – I understand if you have to. Whatever you need to do, just let me know. I trust what you think is best."

 

[Nav]

"I'm not sure there is any other option," Rhett clarified, noting the change in Eliza's expression. Had the circumstances been different, he might have been amused by how quickly her face had gone from strong and determined to uncomfortable and insecure. He knew well that Sylvia challenged Eliza's confidence. After all, Rhett's history with Sylvia hadn't exactly been causal and he was well-aware that Eliza didn't see herself being able to compare to the wickedly intelligent and beautifully foxy New York D.A., but all Rhett wanted was his life to be free of the woman.

Yet the more he wished for her to be gone, the deeper into the cracks of his existence she seeped. Shaking his head, he tipped back his beer and swallowed the last of his drink.

"I'm not sure she'll have anything valuable worth listening to, honestly, but it's worth a try, I guess. Worse comes to worse and I don't get anything valuable out of her. But, on the flipside, we stand to gain something from the meeting. Either way, she won't open up with you there. I think you already know that you being there wouldn't be the best way to go about it." Whether Eliza was jealous, afraid for him, or didn't trust that he wouldn't be able to conduct himself, he didn't know. Perhaps it was a small part of all three. All he could do was smile politely and shrug. He wasn't a detective perhaps, and brute strength wasn't his forte, but he also knew any fight with Sylvia wasn't going to be a physical one.

"You can bug me if you really want to," he mused with a lopsided smile, "If it'll make you feel better." Perhaps she just wanted to feel like she was participating, he decided, though she had her plate plenty full with the on goings at the precinct, he was sure. Between Robinson and Diaz's disappearance, there was sure to be more than enough to keep her attention occupied.

"In the meantime," he cleared his throat, "It may be best if we don't stay together once we return to New York, at least for a while. You know, designated survivor concept. If something happens to one of us, well, there is still a chance for the other." He cleared his throat and slid the empty beer glass to the edge of the table. He understood that whatever was going on was much bigger than either of them. Bigger than their happiness, their relationship, their life together. If they were both killed, well, happenings would keep going on—people would keep dying.

 

[Meraki]

"I don't need to bug you," Eliza admitted, "I know you'll do what you have to. It's her I don't trust."

Designated survivor concept. The whole thing made her blood run cold, but she knew he was right. They more they were together, the bigger the target they were. If they were going to have any shot at this at all, they would have to be careful and work their own leads. Eliza needed to face Robinson and more than anything she needed to find Diaz. The precinct would be overflowing when they returned and that would mean long nights and excruciatingly fast-paced, exhausting days. Part of her wondered what would happen if they just didn't go back, but she knew in her heart that wasn't an option.

Maybe the battle of the minds with Sylvia wasn't hers, but she could stop whatever that woman put on the ground or into motion.

"Yeah, I can stay at my place," Eliza agreed, though it pained her to do so. Since the explosion, it felt like the two had hardly spent any time apart save for his stint in jail. It would be difficult for her, but Eliza had to figure it out. He was right, this was bigger than the two of them. It always had been. "I just have to stop by and grab some stuff from yours."

God, she hated every fucking minute of this. She finished off her second drink and set it down. It was just the way things had to be. It shouldn't have surprised her that after everything she'd been through, that these warm and loving moments were fleeting. Nothing was guaranteed, either. Hell, they could land in New York and Eliza could have a bullet between her eyes in a split second. No one knew how this was going to play out and it was their job to make sure that the least number of people were hurt in Sylvia and Robinson's rampage through the city.

"I'll just do what I do best," she shrugged, "be a detective."

 

[Nav]

Rhett gave a solemn, single nod. It was what was best, though not what was easy. He doubted there was going to be anything easy about what they were going to be going through and while Rhett didn't share Eliza's same vigor, he knew it was time to go back.

Even through all that had gone on, he didn't truly believe Sylvia was evil. He had spent a great number of hours studying laws and ethics, and had once believed everything was like Go: black, or white. Unfortunately, the world was never so simple. Sylvia had done a great number of unspeakable things, but not every inch of her was evil. He had loved her once, or at least had loved parts of her, and he had to believe that there was some goodness in her… that he wasn't so naïve to be enticed by the devil herself. He futzed with his fingers, his eyes sort of glazing over in the way they always did whenever he was lost in his own thoughts. Whatever Sylvia had in store for him, it wasn't bound to be good, but he decided in that moment that the same approach as before wasn't going to work.

It hadn't worked before, what was to say it'd work now?

Maybe instead of trying to push her away with anger and resentment, he could attempt to appeal to those tender sides he remembered. Though they were far and few in-between, it was at least worth a shot. His eyes flickered and he blinked, coming back into attention. "Truthfully, I think I'm going to try a different tactic with Sylvia this time," he mentioned off-handedly, "Lashing out against her just landed me in prison. Perhaps if I can appeal to a different side of her, perhaps I can catch her off her guard." He shrugged.

Rhett wasn't extremely sociable, but it was worth a shot. It was at least better than going back at it with the same plan as before. "Okay, yea," he agreed with a nod, "That's fine, but I think the more time we spend apart from now on, the better we'll be." It'd be harder to hit two targets instead of just one. Not impossible, Rhett knew, but harder, and he was planning to make things as difficult for them as possible.

"You'll be fine, I'm sure," he assured her "You're a good detective and I know you'll do just fine, but if you want to take the cat you can. She always liked you better, anyways."

 

[Meraki]

This was not where she wanted the conversation to go.

It wasn't Rhett's fault, nor was it hers. This was just their circumstance. This was the wicked web they were caught in and she was essentially powerless in the mess of it all. He would have to go after Sylvia, she would have to go after Robinson, and who knew if they would ever make it back to see one another again? It seemed like a silly thought, but if there was one thing in all of this that Eliza was beginning to understand was that she was disposable. To Robinson, to Sylvia, and wherever this road led, it would lead into danger. She would be ready for it, though. She would harden herself as she had to in order to survive. As much as she didn't like the idea of Rhett going to Sylvia…

Eliza knew that Sylvia wanted Rhett. He intrigued her, if nothing else. She had never lashed out at him without being provoked. Maybe his plan was a good one after all.

"I wish," Eliza smiled gently, "but my apartment building doesn't allow pets. Considering the fact I haven't been around for a few months, I'm not sure I can push it with my landlord."

It was a strange concept, being alone again. After everything and this trip, she had finally felt what it was like to have her own family, and now what? It was heartbreaking every time, but she knew that people had to leave. It was just the way of the world. Eliza should have been prepared by then for the inevitable, but she wasn't. It took everything in her being to silence the labored, painful beating of her heart in her chest. She was ready, motivated to get to work, but she never thought at the end of this there would ever be anything for her.

Then Rhett happened and changed everything.

"Yeah, I'll be fine," she assured him with a laugh, "Just back to the same old routine. I got pretty good at it over the years, at least."

She just wanted to be done talking about this. It just wasn't processing for her. She cleared her throat, "You hungry at all? Or do you wanna just have another one and head out to figure out travel plans?"

 

[Nav]

Rhett had never been a particularly tender man, though he supposed it wasn't for lack of trying. He was just usually too busy caught up in his own thoughts to realize when someone needed his tenderness. He had always spent his life just bumbling through life not paying much attention to those around him. He liked people, naturally, and proved to be an exceptional lawyer, but he could never read peoples' emotions extremely well. He could tell you all about the chemistry behind emotions—the endorphins, the receptors, the synapses, the chemical currents, but knowing when someone needed something? Knowing what that something was? He had never been very good at it.

"I'll keep the cat then," he agreed with a nod, though his track record with cats was a poor one… the only one he had ever owned before Darwin had been burned up to a crisp in an apartment fire someone pursuing him had set. Or, if not burned, had escaped during the fire and had never been found. No matter the cat's untimely end, Rhett realized pet ownership probably wasn't his life's ambition.

The topic of the cat fell aside quickly and Rhett rose. For once in his life, he knew that there was someone who needed some tenderness in their life.

"Move over, would ya?" he nudged his hip into hers and playfully pushed her farther into the booth so he could sit next to her instead of across from her. "You want to know something? We never truly touch anything. At the molecular level, whenever we reach out to touch something, there is a miniscule distance between us and that thing because the surface electrons begin to repel each other so violently. That repelling is what gives us the sensation of touch—of texture."

"So, we never have ever really touched one another, not truly," he reached out and gently cupped the back of her head so he could nudge her closer and place a kiss on her forehead. "But if close is as best as I get to come to you, then I'm okay with that."

"And plus, it won't be the same routine. I'll still be in your life, you know," he said warmly, "Maybe I won't be right next to you all the time, but I'll always be a text away… a call away. Modern technology is pretty neat, you know."

Giving a nod, he pulled a menu towards them, "I'm pretty sure you mentioned never having a true, Wisconsin, deep-fried cheese curd."

 

[Meraki]

She never really expected it.

Between the two of them, Eliza and Rhett had their share of issues. Before meeting him, Eliza had never opened up or shown her scars with explanation. She never thought about living with someone or dwelled on futures. She was a detective first, a woman second, and often times her feelings fell in between the cracks of the hectic life she led, never to be shared with anyone. She didn't need tenderness, she thought. But after everything that happened, after breaking her life open for the sake of this case, she realized that she was afraid of tenderness. She was afraid of intimacy.

She was scared to death about the idea of someone else because she was scared of losing. She had lost so much, endured so much, but it all made sense in that moment. Her default was to deny herself what she wanted so that she could never, ever be disappointed. So that she could never, ever be hurt again the way she had been hurt in the past.

But when Rhett scooted in next to her and his lips found her forehead, she let out a breath she wasn't aware she was even holding.

"I don't know anyone who has ever made science sound so romantic," Eliza teased, but her voice was soft like she didn't want to disturb the moment. "I meant what I said, Rhett. I trust you with every fiber of my being, but this is just…difficult territory for me."

That was the understatement of the fucking year.

"It'll be fine," she breathed out finally, more of a cleansing exhale than anything. Sometimes her brain just took a bit of convincing against her heart's immediate reactionary response. "Especially," she clarified, "if this drink gets topped off and we get a nice big serving of deep fried cheese curds. Then we'll have four of my favorite things here – whiskey, cheese, fried food, and you."

 

[Nav]

"Science, my dear Detective Madison, is extremely romantic."

He felt the need to clarify. "Science is all about discovery, learning, exploring… somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be known, and what could be more romantic than that? Nature composes all of her best poetry and pieces of art for the microscope and the telescope, I find that quite delightful." He shrugged his shoulders a little and reached out, taking the straw in his water between his fingers and swirled it around. The perspiration collected along the outside of the hazy blue plastic, and the ice cubes clattered softly as he swirled them around and around.

"At the end of the day of our lives, Eliza, we are all just star matter, whatever happens to use now or later, or one of us now and one of us later, at the end, we'll just… end up back in the stars. That's not so bad, now is it?"

Rhett didn't believe in religion. He had grown up extremely religious and God and the Bible had been beaten into him mercilessly, but he didn't oppose the idea of grand creation, either. The idea that everything was and eventually returned to the cosmos appealed to him in a way. He didn't have faith in much, and certainly didn't believe he'd be anything more than a pile of rot after he died, but he would like to think his most precious possessions: those carbons, those hydrogens, those nitrogens… would continue on doing great things even long after he had gone. It amazed him how those atoms had passed through so many before coming to him, and how many more they would continue to touch and do. He was embedded into the fiber of the very universe, immortalized if only in tiny clusters of electrons, neutrons, and protons.

Another form of those clusters he thoroughly enjoyed were cheese curds and beer.

"I think we can make that happen," he agreed as he waved their waiter back over to fulfill her wishes, "Though I'm not entirely surprised I was put last on your list." Their little snack was ordered and their drinks were refilled. Despite what they were facing, Rhett found himself quite relaxed, though he supposed it wasn't too hard when one was three beers in.