#//silco (has killed spencer before) skill issue.

[gas-stxtion-a]

Amelia really, really wishes that Silco would drop the subject of the stupid nicknames. She knows logically that he has a point, but it doesn’t feel like a big enough deal to her to be making such a fuss about. After all, she’s already apologized for the slip of the tongue, and that should be the end of it. More than that, though, are the not-so-subtle jabs he’s making at her professionalism as an officer. She’s been on the receiving end of those kinds of comments for her entire professional life, even more so since transferring to the local department, but they never get any easier to stomach.

Even though she has no problem admitting to herself that Silco has a point regarding Jack being upset about the nicknames she uses for him, the clear prodding he’s doing in addition to that feels completely unnecessary, speaking to a deeper disdain on his part. No matter how close he may be with Jack, Amelia is sure that he wouldn’t be poking at her like this if he didn’t have more issues with her on a personal level. If the problem he has is with her badge, she supposes that’s understandable, all things considered. Many people, including her once upon a time, hold a deep-seated distrust and resentment towards police, and she can’t hold that against anyone.

However, Amelia has always prided herself on being one of the good ones, a good apple in the bushel looking to root out the bad ones. After all the work she’s put into stopping the corruption around her, it’s a slap in the face to see that same plain distrust on anyone’s face. Silco doesn’t know her personally, and she’s certainly made a few missteps in this conversation, but she doesn’t feel she deserves this treatment.

Still, getting upset isn’t going to help anything. So, Amelia takes a small breath and nods, keeping her expression as carefully neutral and doing her best to keep her frustration from leaking in.

“That is a good point,” she acknowledges, “but even though Jack doesn’t like being called that, he knows I’ve never meant it as an insult.” She says the words confidently, as while she and Jack aren’t exactly friends, she’s confident in her ability to read the kid. Most of the time, at least. Even when he snapped and told her to stop calling him that particular nickname, she never got the sense that he took it as a personal insult against him.

Besides, he’s been called worse.

However, Amelia knows that Silco isn’t going to like that, so she doesn’t linger on that particular conversation and quickly moves on.

“The nicknames aren’t about a lack of professionalism,” she insists. “I-“ Amelia huffs, unable to keep herself from biting her lip momentarily before she plows on ahead. “Look, like I said, it’s my job to keep them all safe. I’ve been coming by the gas station for a few months now to check on them on a regular basis—we’re not friends, but we’re also not strangers.” If anything, she would argue the nicknames are a sign of a lack of familiarity on her part. They allow her to keep a distance between herself and the employees, never really allowing the closeness of using their actual names. To her, it doesn’t feel like a lack of respect, but rather an acknowledgment of the distance between them.

Once again, though, she realizes she’s being defensive, and she can’t quite bite back the frustration this time as she speaks. “But, that’s not the point. Point is, yes, I use nicknames when I talk about them. None of them have ever said anything about it before, but, fine, yes, you’re right that he told me not to. I’ll be more careful.” For a moment, her face flickers, almost regretful, before she returns to her previous expression.

The mention of Silco having previous experience with police, enough to know that this isn’t typical behavior with most officers, does catch her attention, and she files that away for later. Now is not the time.

The subject of Spencer Middleton is a sore one with her, and she’s sure that shows on her face as Silco quirks an eyebrow at her. She rests a hand on her hip and glances away, just for a moment, before looking back up at him.

There’s not much she can say to defend herself here, because she knows the amount of times she’s failed to catch the son of a bitch is unacceptable. Even if she’s not the only cop he’s managed to evade, he’s only human. Someone should have apprehended or killed him by now. However…

“It’s not that simple,” she bites out. “He has been caught before, multiple times even—the records of those arrests are public information. It’s just-“ She stops herself before she can say anything else, though she’s sure Silco isn’t going to let that point rest, especially now that it’s clear her own prodding has worked and only irritated him further. Spencer Middleton has been caught before, yes, but he always escapes, like clockwork. There isn’t a jail cell that can hold the fucker, it seems.

Amelia doesn’t want to linger on that subject, to give Silco time to interject, so she quickly moves on. “That’s not the point,” she says again. “None of that is the point. The point is, no, I can’t just accept Jack’s version of events for what happened that night. I know he’s not intentionally lying, sure, but he’s not exactly a reliable source. There was no shapeshifter and there was no demon. What happened to Mr. Berthelot was a tragedy and I wish Jack hadn’t had to see it happen, but it was the result of a madman with a gun, not anything supernatural.” She says the words with a finality that she hopes against hope will end the conversation there.

Silco wants people to know he and Jack are together.  He is not interested in keeping his involvements secret.  When somebody belongs to him, he wants other people to know about it so that they know to keep away.  He knows that Jack is a private person, and the two of them don’t have a solid label on what they are yet, but they’re still together, and anyone who is decently close with Jack knows that by now.  Silco comes by the gas station often enough that everyone has figured it out, and if they didn’t already know it, the fact that Silco was Jack’s first call as soon as the phones started working again should have been enough of a hint.

However, he is not offended that Amelia didn’t know.  While he wants other people to know that Jack is off-limits romantically, the less a police officer knows about him, the better.  He still has his drug business and impending sedition, and because of that, he doesn’t mind being something of a ‘dark horse’ as far as the police are concerned.  It might even delight him to know that Amelia has not heard of Silco until recently because it would mean Jack isn’t friends with the woman.

“It doesn’t really matter how you mean it if it gets taken a certain way, does it?”  Jack was unhappy with the name—anyone with eyes could have seen that.  Silco doesn’t know everything, but he can imagine the way Jack bristled whenever Amelia called him Crutches before he finally got it in mind to say something about it.  There are plenty of nonverbal cues people give off to let people know when they’re lying, and Amelia ought to know about them if she’s any good at her job, which Silco doubts more by the second.

“Isn’t it unprofessional, anyway, to assign people nicknames like that?  Every officer I’ve dealt with has used people’s legal names, not some degrading nickname they arbitrarily assigned without consent from the receiving party.”  Is it suspicious to say he has dealt with multiple police officers before?  No, probably not—he comes from a rough area, so it stands to reason he would see police somewhat regularly, and he plans to use that as an excuse if she tries to call him on it.

Silco huffs, barely restraining the laugh that wants to slip out of him.  It’s obvious Amelia is trying to backpedal and save face, make up for the mistake of telling him anything in the first place.  Unfortunately for her, it’s too late to say she can’t get into all the details when she has already demonstrated enough of her professionalism—or lack thereof—for him to go on.

‘Hopalong’ is a new nickname—or at least, new to Silco, and because this is his first time hearing it, he can only assume it’s one she came up with right now.  He is sure this is a test to see how he will react to hearing it, and she cannot hide behind the excuse of it being more natural to say, as she has not said it by accident before.  Even her correcting herself back to Jack’s real name feels stilted and forced somehow, which takes all the credibility out of her claims about ‘Crutches.’  She knows his real name, which is perfectly natural for her to use—she does not want to and prefers blatantly disrespecting him.

“Yes, Jack has told me about Spencer Middleton,” Silco says, using both of their names with ease to make a point.  He clasps his hands behind his back and quirks an eyebrow.  “And you’re telling me that you have been assigned to gas station duty for as long as you have, and you have not found a single opportunity to apprehend him yet?  He comes around fairly often, as you said.  I find it unbelievable that he has gotten away from you every time.”  He is tempted to say that he has already shot Spencer in the head and that shooting him and dumping his body in a prison cell before he revives should not be that difficult, but he holds back.  Admitting to having shot someone will not help the suspicion she is already harboring for him.