You cock-blocked us both tonight!

I tiptoed upstairs, knowing Nan would be long asleep by now. Curry’s door was shut same as it had been when we left that morning, and I didn’t know if that meant he hadn’t come home yet, or had been home for a while already and was asleep or reading or something. I was quiet, but not silent, so that I wouldn’t wake up Nan, but so that if Curry was here and awake and wanted to know I was home, he would. Nobody intercepted me, though, so I brushed my teeth and went to my room and crawled blearily into bed.

Not long later, maybe an hour, Curry shook me gently awake. “When’d you get home? Was your night too bad?” he whispered when I opened my eyes and blinked at him in initial sleepy confusion. He grabbed a pillow from the chair by the window and tossed it on the bed, then made himself comfortable on top of the covers, facing me.

I smiled happily, anticipating how glad he would be to hear that Baggett and I had worked out our differences to such a favorable degree. “Baggett and I patched things up. Tell you about that in a sec,” I said. “But what about you? Did you have fun with—what was her name?”

He shook his head. “It was a bust. She wanted to go to some party, so I went with her and her friend. Didn’t work out in the end. What did you and Baggett get up to?”

“Smoked hash together,” I said after a moment. “I was going to find somebody to go home with, but I’m glad it worked out like it did. By the way, I asked him not to tell you about the hash, but fuck it. I think about keeping secrets from you sometimes, but in the end I never wind up wanting to.”

“Well, that’s nice, I suppose,” he said. “Are you still high now?”

“So high. We went to the boardwalk and split a joint and watched the gulls try to eat food wrappers. It was lovely. What a perfect night. There was a wig somebody lost, and a property dispute over it, amongst the gulls.”

“Right,” Curry said. “Sounds way better than sex.” This made us both laugh.

“It really was perfect, though,” I said.

Curry reached for my hand and I let him take it. “Sorry I missed it,” he said, giving me a squeeze. “Want to tell me?”

“Do you want me to wait till I’m sobered up?” I asked before walking myself into any further self-incrimination. “You were pretty annoyed that time I tried those mushrooms from the chemist shop. You were so pissy with me, for like two days after. You didn’t get over it till I bought you that expensive bottle of brandy to apologize. Is this an expensive brandy apology waiting to happen?”

He smiled. “Nah. This isn’t too different from you a few pints in. The mushrooms only pissed me off ‘cause they interacted with your suppressants. You were seeing all kinds of wild fucking shit, in addition to shades who were actually there, and talking a blue streak with a whole host of gruesome dead people. The fucking front room was packed full of them, apparently. I was just glad Nan wasn’t home for any of it. If I thought there were any limits to the unconditionality of her love for you, that night might have qualified.”

“Oh, gods, I don’t remember any of that!” I said in surprise. “I thought you were just super prissy about ****.”

Curry made a face at me. “Well, thanks a lot for giving me the benefit of a doubt, you fucking degenerate.”

“No wonder you were so annoyed about it. That’s pretty valid. Sorry.”

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t achieve any new lows tonight,” he said, then gave me a little smile and let go my hand so he could smooth back some of my hair which I hadn’t realized was standing up. “So what facilitated this unexpected transformation with Baggett?” He laid his head down on the pillow, but kept his eyes on me.

“Oh.” The question had an abruptly sobering effect. “Don’t be mad—I meant to tell you this part sooner but I got turned around. A bit after you left Baggett went to take a piss and the moment he was gone Lydell showed up and took his spot.”

Curry’s posture went rigid. “What?” he demanded, raising himself up on his elbow. “Like he’d just been waiting there?”

“I know. I know. But nothing happened in the end. Because of Baggett. Lydell said a bunch of dumb threatening shit and I was getting pretty worried because I just couldn’t seem to stop myself popping off at him, but then Baggett came back and stuck a knife up to his side.” I mimed Baggett’s jaunty demeanor holding a dagger to Lydell’s side, best as I could while lying on my side in bed. “Cool as all hell. I never saw the like. He just picked up the thread like we hadn’t been pissed off with each other all week. I was pretty sure it'd turn into a real nasty scrap but something made Lydell change his mind.”

I stopped talking, because Curry was lying there frowning anxiously at me, looking a bit ill over this story.

“Sorry I didn’t tell you quicker,” I said.

“That’s not it,” he said. “Just—fuck. I never should’ve left—I know we’ve loosened up, gotten less strict about it, but I had a funny feeling about tonight and I shoved all my good sense aside so I could think with my prick instead.” Curry looked guiltily at me. “Us going our separate ways at the local is one thing but a guard pub by the watch house—I can’t believe I put you in that position. Of course he could be there. Anything could have happened. And of course we’d be on his mind. Everybody’s talking about us right now.”

“But that’s not fair to you,” I argued. “You have every right to do stuff for just yourself! Don’t be silly. It worked out fine, because I had Baggett, and he was grand. And I don’t honestly know if things with him would have worked out so good as they did, without this run-in bringing us together.”

When Curry just looked at me unhappily, I pulled his hand over and planted a kiss on his knuckles. “Mag. You’re my favorite. And my life is so much better because of you. But it doesn’t give me an exclusive claim. ‘Course you should do stuff with other people.”

He shrugged.

“What happened with your girl tonight, anyway?” I asked, since I knew he would keep being fussy and self-deprecating, if I didn’t change the subject.

“Oh, just I talked too much about work.” He made an abortive little gesture.

“What?” I asked, indignant. “Detective work is interesting as hell, what’s not to like? You didn’t forget to tell her you’re a detective and a sergeant-constable now, did you?”

Curry shook his head, laughing a little at my outrage on his behalf.

“Well, wasn’t she impressed by that? If she wasn’t impressed she’s a snobby cow,” I declared without waiting to hear the answer to the first part. “We’re barely twenty-five. It’s very impressive to make sergeant-constable at our age, and even more impressive to make detective at the same time—how dare she not be impressed by you! You’re so impressive! Her friend was impressed!” I ran out of breath here and realized it was his turn to talk.

He shrugged again. “She asked where I lived. I said I lived with you and Nan. She wanted to know what it was like being partners with you at the watch, so I told her a bit about that and she just kind of got bored with me.”

“Oh my gods, Mag,” I whispered in disbelieving, mock-horrified, perverse near-glee, “what the fuck is wrong with you? She just wanted to know what part of town you were going home to later! Why on earth would you ever mention me, to a girl you’re trying to tumble?”

“Because you’re an important part of my life!”

“Are you crazy?” I giggled. “That girl thinks we’re fucking. You really stepped on your own dick here. This is so embarrassing for you. Plus, if she tells people—what kind of crack will I have at the best lads if they’re all afraid to piss you off! Mag! Seriously! You cock-blocked us both tonight!”

“She doesn’t think that!” he protested.

I reached over and caught up both his hands, then clasped them together in mine. “One hundred percent,” I assured him sweetly, “that poor little adorable badge bunny got scared off because she thinks we’re secretly fucking. You can’t talk about your female partner, to women you’re trying to sleep with. Not on the first night! Why would she want to get anywhere near that? She thought you were making sure she knew her to keep her expectations low. You probably ruined her whole night, just because she has some basic self-respect and doesn't want to be the bit of fun you fuck around with when your main woman’s not available!”

He sputtered a little bit, wanting to dispute this, then subsided when he realized there was no cogent argument he could produce to refute these assertions, then settled for frowning at me like a grumpy child.

I relented, squirming over enough to bonk my head affectionately against him. “You know we have a deeply weird relationship, right?” I whispered. “As far as other people’s thinking goes? It doesn’t make sense for most people, that anybody unrelated can sleep in the same bed sometimes and not be having sex.”

Curry took his hands back and shrugged again, telling me with his posture how much he didn’t like me pointing this out.

“Mag, I’m being serious. If you ever want to get married someday like you say,” I said, “you have to stop leading with anything remotely close to telling women you live with your watch guard partner who's a girl, and stop saying stuff that makes it sound like I matter to you for shit.”

Curry didn’t say anything for a moment. “So what, then, I’m supposed to keep you some kind of gross secret from anybody I meet?” he said in that almost-sulky way he got sometimes if I stepped too hard on his wrong-headed self-deceptions.

“Hey.” I reached up and tipped his face toward me. “No. Of course not. But maybe wait a little to ease into it. And don’t get into any heavy duty shit about the very-very-special-best-ever-ever friendship we have. What girl wouldn’t feel hopelessly threatened about that? Play it cool. You have to let her get comfortable with you before anything else.”

There was a long silence.

“I’m sorry neither of us got to have sex tonight,” I said finally. “Maybe we can fix things another night, show her I’m no threat. She was for sure interested. She kept leaning over and whispering to her friend about you with this goofy happy look.”

Curry didn’t reply. Another long silence ensued. “Mag?” I asked.

“Yeah?”

“Something I was thinking about a while now,” I said hesitantly. “Do you think it’s time for us to get our own places? I think your love life is going to stagnate otherwise.”

“What about your love life?” he countered.

“What love life? All I do is go home with somebody on occasion. I’m not going to get married or anything.” I wrinkled my nose at him. “Gross.”

“I guess… I thought you would want a real relationship too, one day.”

“Ew,” I disagreed. “But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t. Me not wanting something doesn’t mean you can’t want it.”

Curry shrugged again, then settled back onto his side and draped his arm over me. “I don’t feel very excited about separate places. I like how we are now.” He sounded a little depressed about it.

“Aw. Don’t be sad. And me too. But how we are now kind of can’t help keeping other people out. Right? If you want a real relationship I think you have to have some distance from me. I don’t know how you make room to have real closeness with somebody else when I sleep one room over and your first impulse when you get home after a late night is to come whisper in bed with me. Yeah?”

There was another silence while he thought this over. “I don’t actually know if I want a relationship as much as I want to not lose stuff like this,” he said finally.

I snuggled up to him. “Well, obviously hearing that makes me feel really loved. But think about it. You shouldn’t give up something you want from your life because you’re afraid for stuff to change with us. You’ll always have me. Even if it doesn’t look exactly like how we are now. Don’t be afraid of that.”

“Why should I even take your opinion seriously, when you spent the night smoking hash with our new colleague you’ve known all of a week and hated until five hours ago?” he complained, but there was no real heat to it, since we both knew I was right.

“‘Cause I love you,” I yawned. “And I want what's best for you. Like truly best. And it’s hard to picture that best thing being, hanging out with only me and not having anything with somebody who can give you more of what you want in life. Not to mention nobody should just live celibate for no good reason. I’m certainly not going to.”

Curry tucked his chin on top of my head and gave a heavy sigh. “Change of subject.”

“Go ahead,” I told him, a bit drowsily.

“I really don’t like it that Lydell instantly materialized the very second nobody was there with you,” he said in a low voice. “That makes me nervous as all fucking hell.”

“Me too,” I said after a moment. “It’s a bit worrying. And… I might have made things worse,” I confessed after a moment.

“What did you do?” Curry asked suspiciously.

I took a few seconds while I tried to think of a less irresponsible sounding way to explain my feckless belligerence. “Stubbed my cigarette out on his hand,” I admitted, after I gave up on that. “Popped off about castration.”

“I don’t know whether to laugh,” he said, “or to feel preemptively exhausted at how on-guard we’re going to need to be after this.”

“Do the first one,” I suggested. “Really I’m not even sure what I would have said or done instead, if I didn’t want to freeze up and piss myself like the last time we tangled.”

“Yeah,” Curry sighed. “I’m not mad, don’t worry," he added after a short pause. "We just have so much better shit to think about than him.”

“Oh, yeah,” I recalled with sudden resumed interest. “Baggett has some kind of history with him. It crossed my mind Baggett might actually hate Lydell more than I do. He asked me what my thing was with him, but I said him first, and he just laughed and dropped it. I think they mixed up bad at some point.”

“He didn’t hurt you, did he?” Curry asked instead of speculating on Baggett’s problems with Lydell.

“Just a bruise on the inside of my thigh where he pinched me. Probably a bruise on my knee where he was squeezing it. But nothing bad. I think he might have come out of this one worse than me. He really wasn’t expecting me to actually do anything—I think that burn I gave him might scar.”

“Great,” Curry said on another heavy sigh, “a nice memento for him to fucking see every day and remember why he has such a grudge about you.”

“Maybe it’s a memento to make him reflect on how kitty grew up and has claws now.”

Curry nodded against me. “I just worry the reason he let us stay out of his way before is that from his perspective your previous encounter ended in a draw. If he feels like he didn’t win this one I worry about what that fucking lizard brain of his will decide it takes to reinstate his twisted sense of balance. That’s all.”

I considered that. “I feel sad that your life is harder because of this thing with me and Lydell,” I said after we’d been quiet a little while. “And I feel really sorry if I made it worse by mouthing off and giving you more stuff to be worried about.”

“Don’t.” He hugged me. “That’s not what I meant. I just get scared about you when I think about him. You’re irreplaceable. And you’ve really seemed like your old self again the last couple years. It was hard passing the time it took for you to feel normal again after what happened with him before. I don’t want anything to set you back like that again.”

“Thanks for caring.” I leaned my head against his chest. “And for looking like such a goddamn meathead that shitty people stay the fuck way from me.”

I felt a gentle laugh rumble through Curry’s chest. “It’s all part of my selfish plan,” he said, replacing his chin on top of my head. “I don’t stand a fucking chance in SCD without you.”

“True,” I said, “Baggett is much more impressed with me now that he knows I’m willing to get into a knife fight with him against Markus Lydell.” He laughed again. “You can get under the covers if you want to,” I said, yawning again.

He shook his head. “Nah. Comfortable like this. And you’re keeping me plenty warm.”

“‘Cause I’m sleepy,” I said.

“If you’re sleepy go the fuck to sleep, dummy.”

“Want to hear an upside, though? To the Lydell thing?”

“What’s that?” Curry asked, in a tone that said everything about what low expectations he had concerning this alleged upside.

“If he wants to fuck up both me and Baggett, maybe he’s too stupid to settle on which one and he fucks up neither of us. Or he has one of those brain clots or something and dies.”

“I’ll ask Nan to pray to Rava for that tomorrow,” Curry said dryly, and this time instead of smoothing my hair down he intentionally messed it up.

I meant to say something else, but I was so tired that the two seconds I took deciding what that quip ought to be were all it took to fall back asleep.