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"Tell me about the necklace, then," she said, hoping to find a chink in his armor."You're always playing with it, so it must have some significance for you."
Finn pulled the necklace out and fingered it, his gaze growing thoughtful."That's a long story," he murmured.
"We have time."
He hesitated, and for a moment Sheila thought he'd change the subject instead.To her surprise, however, he said, "It was in my survival gear back when I was a fighter pilot.That was the best time of my life, back when I was flying."A nostalgic smile crept across his lips, but it was soon shadowed by a look of pain."Worst time of my life, too."
He paused, and Sheila waited, studying him.The last thing she wanted to do was to interrupt his train of thought.
"I was going through a lot at the time," he said."My father passed away, and without him—" He shook his head."Life just wasn't the same."
Again he paused, and again Sheila remained silent, her heart aching for him.
"Anyway," he continued, "me and my buddies had this habit of getting drinks after each successful mission—you know, a way to celebrate being alive."He took a deep breath and let it out slowly."Pretty soon, though, I was drinking before my flights as well.I knew it was risky as hell, but that's what being a fighter pilot is—risky."
"What happened?"Sheila asked gently.
"One day, I took off after having several beers.I thought I was good, and maybe I would've been if everything had gone right, but I had a mechanical failure that day.Instrument panel malfunctioned."
He let go of the necklace and looked up at her."Any idea what it's like to be flying forty-five thousand feet above the ground and suddenly the system you rely on stops working?"
She shook her head."No idea."
"It's terrifying.I didn't know how much fuel I had, didn't have any instructions on what to do or how to get back.If I was sober, I wouldn't have needed the guidance system to hold my hand, but I was anything but sober.Flying that plane the old-fashioned way, without the help of the system—" He shook his head.
"And is that where the compass came in?"
He nodded, then picked the compass up again and kissed it."My dad always had one on him when he was alive.He was a navigator for the Navy.It was his good luck charm, and I guess it became mine too.It led me to safety, and without it—" He shook his head again."I would've crashed for sure, and considering how inebriated I was, there's a good chance I would've gotten myself killed."
Sheila felt a pang of sympathy for Finn.He had been through so much, and yet he wore his pain with grace.She wanted to say something comforting, but words failed her.
After a few moments of silence, Finn cleared his throat and returned the compass to his neck."Sorry, didn't mean to get all nostalgic on you."
"It's okay," Sheila said."Thanks for sharing that with me."
He paused, pursing his lips."I want you to know, even though it's still a temptation, it's been six months since I last had a drink.What I mean to say is...you can count on me, alright?Don't write me off just because I made some mistakes."
"I won't," Sheila said, feeling a surge of pride for her partner.
He tucked his necklace back into his shirt."What about you?Ever struggled with anything like that?"
"Not drinking, no, but I've had other obsessions."
"Such as?"
"Kickboxing.I know it's not the same, but being hyper-focused on your profession to the exclusion of all else can damage your life and relationships, too."
"Were you really that driven?"
"I was obsessed, spent every waking moment either training or thinking about training."Her voice held a tinge of sadness as she continued."In a way, it was destructive for me, too.I lost friendships, missed out on experiences, and when I didn't win the Olympics, it nearly broke me."
Finn looked at her with genuine curiosity, his earlier guardedness beginning to fade."How did you manage to pull yourself out of that?"
"It's a work in progress.I'm hoping law enforcement will help—give me a sense of purpose, you know, a cause higher than myself."Sheila offered him a small smile, feeling a connection forming between them.
He nodded, his gaze thoughtful."This job can be very rewarding.It can be very stressful, too, though, so just make sure you have a healthy outlet for when the shit hits the fan.It's convenient to see life in black-and-white – this person's a victim, that person's a bad guy – but there's a lot of gray in the world."
His words sparked a sudden realization."Wait a second," Sheila said, her eyes widening.
