Page 170 of Oddly Fine

“Matthew texted me and Adeline last night.”

“Adeline?” Beckett said. He’d missed her departure while he’d been—unresponsive. He should probably call her to thank her. After all, she’d been instrumental in building the case from the ground up to make sure Mario Rosario would be tried and convicted.

“She wanted an update. He’d promised to give her one,” Hayes explained. He turned back to Gill.

“She was quite helpful. Thank you again for sending her our way,” Hayes told their boss.

“Right, yes, what he said,” Beckett agreed, pointing to Hayes.

Gill took a deep breath and pinched the top of his nose in exasperation.

“How long until you’re cleared for action?” he asked, voice gruff.

“I’m good to go,” Beckett assured him.

“Two weeks of medical leave remaining, at the minimum,” Hayes interjected, talking loudly to drown out that bald-faced lie.

Beckett growled. The little backstabber.

Gill nodded and sighed. “Good. In the meantime, you’ll have plenty of time to go over your incident report from the bank robbery case again—it’s going to trial soon, and you might need to testify.”

Beckett shrugged and sighed with resignation.

“There are a few more things I might need from you—mostly paperwork. Maybe I’ll need you for a symposium as well—I have a local college looking for ways to promote different federal agencies in connection with the degree programs they offer.”

“And you want us to go?” Beckett asked, bewildered. “I’m a terrible influence on the youth,” Beckett said, shaking his head.

“Maybe—but I’m hoping they’ll be a good influence on you,” Gill said in a jovial tone.

“Har, har—look who finally grew a funny bone,” Beckett said, which he knew was not how he should ever talk to his boss, but, as in most situations, he didn’t let that stop him. Hayes kicked him, right in the middle of the shin, too—goddammit—that fucking hurt like hell. He howled silently and rubbed at the spot, shooting an indignant, offended look at his partner.

Gill looked no more offended or annoyed than usual by Beckett’s irreverent remark. So, no harm done.

“Alright, get out before I reconsider my current agenda for you two miscreants,” Gill said and gestured towards the door.

Beckett stood up surprisingly quickly, and even managed not to wince as pain radiated from his cracked ribs and knife wounds. He was halfway out the door, right on Hayes’ heels, when Gill called out to him.

“Thérault.”

Beckett spun around, wondering why he was being called back. It was usually Hayes who Gill would try to talk sense into—having given up on him a loooonnnng time ago.

“You boys alright? I heard about the op—about—” Gill shifted uncomfortably and waved a hand in front of his face indicating blindness.

Ah. His dissociated episode.

Urgency and ego dictated that he should spit out a typical dismissive response. Pretend it was nothing at all. That he was perfectly fine and ready to rumble, but—he swallowed the words back down.

“We’re—oddly fine,” he assured their boss in a polite and reserved manner that Gill had never witnessed.

Gill scrutinized him for a moment, trying to spot a lie, but whatever he read in Beckett’s eyes seemed to satisfy him.

“Good. Now, get out of my office. I have a shit ton of paperwork to get through if I want to get home to my kids.”

“Tell them Uncle Beckett says hi!” he requested with a silly, enthusiastic wave, as he backed out of the office.

“I won’t,” Gill assured him with an amused snort.

Of course, Beckett didn’t believe him, laughing and pointing finger guns before making his great escape.