"I am getting married again, ratty. Mom believes this one is nicer..."
I laughed. I have never laughed as hard as I laughed when I heard his voicemail, deep in the dark night and loneliness of my simple apartment.
I have never laughed so hard where my heart forgot to beat or my skin itched or my tears leaked eyes, my throat burned and I felt stabbing pain. I laughed anyway.
I had to or I would go crazy.
I couldn't sleep and it showed when I reached my desk in the morning all grumpy and irritated. I sat and began my paperwork.
My chief didn't want me on the field yet, and I didn't understand. My arm was okay, I was at the shooting range everyday, and had a trainer to help me learn boxing to strengthen my arm muscles even. My psychiatrist had long since relieved me of my therapy sessions.
It has been a fucking year!
I couldn't just keep doing paperwork and look for clues in other reports, I wanted my mission. It's not like staying on my desk with shitload papers was doing me any good and I was honestly fed up.
The more time I had on my hands the more I was tempted to visit him and hear his voice and and and...
Angry, I stormed away from my desk, my chair toppling over and garnering eyes but I didn't care. The file in my hand accidentally knocked over one of the agent's cup but I didn't care.
I just stormed into my Chief's office- no knocking, nothing.
"I am sick and tired of this!" She was so startled, her hand slightly trembled. "I was not hired and trained for this shit paperwork. I need field work or I resign."
They can't let me go. I had two meritorious cases and shit load genius- as my trainer had said - to be easily let off.
But most of all, I had a major Spanish Mafia serving life sentence and many agents were unable to catch him before. They just can't let me go.
My poor sweet chief was only worried for me and opened her mouth again -
"No more paperwork." That was my ultimatum.
So, she took the completed file and handed me another file quite reluctantly. "You need a team?"
"I work alone until I have the best of my intel, you know that."
I stormed out of her office and the building and went straight back to my apartment. I pulled out the phone I used for official purposes and put away my personal one.
I didn't even want to switch it on anymore - it wasn't like my department couldn't reach me on the official phone or that I had a limitless number of people calling on my personal one.
I packed, stored the case files, ids and documents and locked everything and went to sleep the day away. I was too exhausted to even eat.
Next morning, I drove back to my office. I needed to deal with some shit before I left.
"I have no emergency contacts on the list. Can you stop calling people I have long lost touch with?"
She looked at me with guilt and pity, and I didn't know what to say to her, so with a soft sorry for yesterday, I just smiled awkwardly.
"Don't contact anyone for things related to me until I personally tell you to." She could only nod.
I got my badge and gun and my remaining files and laptop from my desk and left in my car.
Even if I didn't need to be on the site of crime, I was not staying here. I needed to go away, I needed to be free of him.