Remember When

along a restrained woman who weighed in at about three hundred pounds and was flinging out an impressive array of obscenities. Since both cops had facial cuts and bruises, Eve assumed the prisoner had flung more than curses before they'd cuffed her.
    God, she loved the job.
    "Peabody, my office."
    She led the way in, closed the door, which had Peabody sending it a puzzled look. Then she programmed two cups of coffee, gestured to a chair.
    "Am I in trouble?"
    "No."
    "I know I didn't handle the briefing very well. It threw me a minute, that's all, to do the stand-up.
    I-"
    "You did fine. You want to work on focusing on the data instead of yourself. Self-conscious cops don't lead teams. Neither do cops who second-guess themselves every two minutes. You earned the shield, Peabody, now you have to use it. But that's not what this is about."
    "The clothes are..." She trailed off at Eve's stony stare. "Self-conscious again. Putting it away.
    What is this about, then?"
    "I work after shift a lot. Regularly. Go back out into the field to tug on a lead, work up various scenarios or do 'link or comp work in my home office. Bounce the case off Roarke. It's how I work. Are you going to have a problem with me not hooking you in every time I do?"
    "Well, no. Well... I guess I'm trying to find the partner rhythm. Maybe you are, too."
    "Maybe I am. It's not because I'm flipping you off. Let's get that clear. I live the job, Peabody. I breathe it and I eat it and I sleep with it. I don't recommend it."
    "It works for you."
    "Yeah, it works for me. There are reasons it works for me. My reasons. They're not yours."
    She looked down into her coffee and thought of the long line of victims, and they all led back to herself, a child, bleeding and broken in a freezing hotel room in Dallas.
    "I can't do this any other way. I won't do this any other way. I need what this gives me. You don't need the same thing. That doesn't make you less of a cop. And when I go out on my own on something, I'm not thinking you're less of a cop."
    "I can't always put it away either."
    "None of us can. And those who can't find a way to deal with that burnout, get mean, get drunk or off themselves. You've got ways to deal. You've got family and outside interests. And shit, I'll say it this once, you've got McNab."
    Peabody's lips curved. "That must've hurt."
    "Some."
    "I love him. It's weird, but I love him."
    Eve met her eyes, a brief but steady acknowledgment. "Yeah, I get that."
    "And it does make a difference. And I get what you're saying, too. I can't always put it away, but sometimes I have to. So I do. I probably won't ever be able to spin it around in my head the way you do, but that's okay. I'm probably still going to bitch some when I find out you went out without me."
    "Understood. We're all right then?"
    "We're all right."
    "Then get out of my office so I can get some work done before we see Gannon."
    ***
    She wrangled for a consult with Mira and after some heated negotiations with the doctor's admin, was given a thirty-minute during lunch break at Central's infamous Eatery. Eve couldn't figure out why anyone with Mira's class would suffer the Eatery's indignities, but she didn't argue.
    She managed, with considerable footwork, to delay her report to Commander Whitney until late that afternoon.
    Another call included threats of doubtful anatomical possibility and a bribe of box seats at a Mets game. The combination netted her the promise from the chief lab tech of a full report on both cases by fourteen hundred.
    Considering her 'link work a job well done, she grabbed her files, signaled Peabody and went into the field.
    ***
    Peabody fisted her hands on her hips. "This is returning to the scene of the crime way, way after the fact."
    "We didn't commit a crime, so technically we're not returning." Eve ignored the people who trooped or stalked around her as she stood at the corner of Fifth and Forty-seventh. "I just wanted a look at the place."
    "Got hit pretty hard in the Urban Wars," Peabody commented. "Easy target, I guess. Conspicuous consumption. The haves and have-nots. All that fancy jewelry showcased while the economy took a nosedive, illegals were sold on the street like soy dogs and guns were strapped on like fashion accessories."
    She edged closer to one of the displays. "Shiny."
    "So three guys walk in, do a little switch-and-grab with the fourth, and walk out with pockets full of diamonds. Nobody's prepared for it as the inside guy's