Page 9 of Foxed Up

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The day finally arrived, the day I'd been looking forward to and dreading for so long now. I was finally going to meet his son. Eli, Jon, and Jon's mother had invited me over for a barbecue in their backyard. It wasn't raining, and the weather seemed pleasant. It was finally going to happen.

I hummed as I got ready for work. Perhaps today was the beginning of a new direction in life: a new trajectory for us both. Instead of running as parallel lines that occasionally tangled and intersected for work or sex, we could become tangled lines all the time. Oh, not at first, of course, we'd have to ease into it, but perhaps…maybe…this was the first step.

I hoped Eli would be able to accept me, and that Jon wouldn't give up even if the kid was a real brat about it at first.

Every time I started to resent the kid a little bit, though, I'd remember something Jon had told me about him, either the issues he struggled with or something sweet he'd done. Jon was very matter-of-fact about things, but he loved his son. My life was inconvenienced by Eli a lot of times, sometimes even interrupted during sex, but I couldn't resent him when I heard that he asked his grandmother to let him watch the evening news if Daddy was working late. He wanted to make sure Daddy wasn't on the news. Even at that age, he understood publicity about something related to the police was usually bad. He felt like if he watched closely enough, his father might be safer. I mean, how can you dislike a kid like that? I just hoped he wouldn't dislike me too much. Kids usually didn't, but then most of the kids I met didn't consider me a threat to their safety and way of life. Fortunately.

Eli's mother had had a string of bad relationships, where the attention ended up on the men instead of the kid, and sometimes the men were pretty nasty. All in all, the boy's life had been one long pattern in not being wanted, being set aside, and having his needs ignored in favor of adults.

In that context, I could understand and approve of Jon's fierce protectiveness and willingness to bend over backwards to make his son feel safe and secure. Even so, the kid still had nightmares sometimes, although Jon said he slept through the night much more often these days.

He was also doing slightly better in school, Jon had shared proudly, in one of our down times, when we had to sit in the car together, waiting for access to a crime scene (I'd had to sniff around for drugs). We were talking because we couldn't have sex: public place and on the job. Between sips of his coffee, he'd shared about Eli's new scholastic achievements.

As a book lover and self-confessed nerd, I don't think I can be blamed for equating school with learning. But Jon was sharing with me, proud as could be, that his son hadn't had as many discipline problems at school, that he was probably going to graduate to the next grade, and that he'd made a school friend. These were huge accomplishments, and Jon was proud.

When I got into work today, it was all I could do to restrain myself from smiling at Jon and walking up to give him a big hug. There was something about that man. Intellectually, I didn't always understand it. I just knew I was sold on him: sold, sold,sold.

It wasn't just the sex, although that was a huge part of it. We were so compatible! I hadn't ever had such intense feelings about anyone. I'd been in love before, but not so…somind-shatteringly. I didn't know if I wanted to be, and it made me feel very vulnerable sometimes, because I had a feeling he could change his mind a lot more easily than I could. But at least I'd finally admitted it was true — that I loved him — and he'd said he loved me, too.

Sometimes, I thought he was my mate, my one-and-only. I don't believe in fate, but I do believe in chemistry and choices. The chemistry was there, and I'd fallen into the choice in such a manner that I never wanted to fall out of it.

I loved this man. I wanted this relationship to work.

Yes, Eli took up a lot of Jon's time, attention, care, and love. But Jon wouldn't be the man I loved if he didn't care so much. If he had no son, perhaps he'd be the selfish asshole he'd always pretended to be at the precinct. For a long time, I'd had no other frame of reference for him, but now at least I knew he was, under it all, a good person and could put others ahead of his own wishes. He was far from perfect — but he really did care, and he really was trying.

I was surprised to see the captain waiting for me at my assigned desk. I didn't usually sit here unless I was filling out paperwork with Jon — one of my favorite things to do — but I still stopped by to check on things and leave my jacket there to mark my spot.

Soon it would be too warm to wear a jacket and I'd need to leave something else — a water bottle, a snack, something. I liked marking my territory, if in the mildest and least insane ways possible, especially since my assigned desk was right next to Jon; and call me crazy, but I didn't want someone horning in on it. I was protective of the spot, even though I didn't use it much.

I'd been hoping for a nice, peaceful day in the catacombs, organizing and fetching files, maybe inputting some data for a nice change of pace. I loved quiet work, and I loved the files. It was something I enjoyed, while sniffing out drugs always made me nervous.

I hadn't realized we had anything different going on today, and I gave the captain a nervous, inquiring glance. He gave me an uncomfortable smile in return.

Uh-oh.I regretfully set aside the idea of greeting Jon. "Yes, boss?" I asked.

"Got a special thing going on today," said the captain uncomfortably. "A shifter and partner team from the next county are stopping by to see how we work here."

I raised my brows dramatically. "This is sudden."

"Yes, it was. I prefer to be asked ahead rather than told at the last minute, but it's not worth making enemies over. Now, the real issue is whether you and the shifter will be comfortable talking with one another."

I leaned cautiously against the desk next to him, mirroring his posture. "Can I ask what kind of shifter he or she is? And when they'll arrive?"

"Should be after lunch. It's — she's — a groundhog." He looked at me to see if that was going to be a problem.

I shrugged. "It's really up to her. If she's not comfortable, just don't make me and her stay in close proximity. I'll be glad to talk to her or the human, if you want, if they want. But I'm not an expert."

I thought of the people I'd spoken to over the phone when I'd been thinking about taking the certification course and expanding my duties at the precinct. It had helped to hear from other perspectives, even if they weren't "experts." I wondered if that was what this was about — they had a prospective certification upcoming, and she hadn't decided yet.

I was by no means sure my experiences were standard, or would hold over to a different shifter. Even the oddest human most likely wouldn't think, "Aha! This fox will convince the groundhog to take the job." Despite the rabbit shifter debacle at the station, I thought most people had more sense than that.

"Are they already a team, working together?" I asked cautiously.

"Yes," said the captain. "They should arrive after lunch. Coordinate with your partner."

"Will do, sir." I looked at him expectantly.